#I will make this place better. Even if it makes people hate me.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Into the Penalty Box

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Jack has to put your son in the sin bin...

Notes: Short but I had this really fun idea for how Jack doles out consequences as a dad.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"Jack, baby...Carter just bit Ellen." You're tugging Carter along behind you by the wrist gently, he's pouting at the entire way and dragging his feet. Ellen is in your arms sniffling and crying into your shoulder because her big brother (at the tender age of 5 years old) decided that the best way to get rid of his 'annoying' baby sister (of 2) was to bite her. Hard. On the arm.

"Let me see, baby girl." Your daughter holds her arm out to her dad, who's suitably sympathetic, cooing over the teeth marks and pressing a kiss there to 'make it better'. It brings a smile to her little face, tears starting to dry up, but leaving blotchy redness behind.

Once Jack has dealt with the issue of his baby girl crying he turns to his son who you've release your grip on knowing he's unlikely to make a run for it and has typically been pretty good at accepting punishment. Mostly because he's stubborn enough that he always wants to plead his case first.

Jack folds his arms across his chest looking down at the spitting image of himself at 5 years old, light brown near blonde curls, bright blue eyes, chubby blushing cheeks and many missing teeth. Carter is Jack, rowdy, loud, full of energy and from time to time fed up with having a baby sibling who wants his attention all the time. One day he'll grow to love it, hate when his sister stops idolising him, but for now? For now apparently biting has become his new solution and Jack had always taught him that biting was not something they did in their house.

You bounce Ellen in your arms, running a hand over her hair and down her back while you watch Jack crouch down to Carter's level. Jack, despite people's belief, was a disciplinarian. Just not in the usual way...he never shouted, he didn't scream, he didn't insult the kids, none of the typical old school dad stuff, but what he did do always seemed to work.

"Bud, you can't bite your sister."

"But she was being annoying!" It's like watching a second Jack, the way Carter folds his arms across his little chest and puffs out his cheeks as he pouts. You're surprised he didn't stomp a foot on the floor, but it seems he learnt from last time that that only got him more penalty minutes.

"I don't care, it's against the rules, bud, against the code. You've got 5 minutes in the penalty box, get." Jack points to the corner of your living room where the penalty box sits. At first the penalty box had been simply a pillow in the corner, but one summer Jack, Quinn and Luke had spent some time and money making a replica penalty box that sat perfectly in your living room. At first you'd been...less than pleased, but now it was the highlight of your parenting adventures. The way Carter would slam the little door closed, how he'd pout on the bench and drink from the water bottle you always put in there for him as he'd watch the little clock. Whenever he was in hockey gear it was made even better, especially the replica Devils Jersey Luke had gotten him one Christmas. Then it really was like watching a baby Jack sitting in the sin bin.

"But you bite mom!" Carter's face practically goes bright red with his frustration, brows so furrowed they're almost in his eyes and this time he does stomp his feet.

There's a beat of silence, one in which you do your very best not to laugh because Jack's play biting apparently has come back to haunt him. All those times he's come home and pretended to take chomp out of your arm or neck, every time he placed a kiss on your neck in front of Carter only to bite you lightly to make you laugh...

Jack tries everything in his power to remain stern, to not laugh, to not give in because fuck, he's really dug himself a hole with this one, "I nibble on your mom, I don't 'bite' her and I never hurt her. You were trying and succeeded in hurting your baby sister."

"Dad!"

"Do you want another 5 for unsportsmanlike conduct?" Jack's favourite tool whenever Carter or Ellen start to argue back to him, although mostly Carter. Ellen has yet to reach the terrible period of defiance that all toddlers go through.

"No..."

"So into the penalty box, bud." You both watch as Carter slumps off towards the box, slamming the door closed behind him, the wood and plastic wobbling slightly under the force of it.

He sits on the bench, arms crossed, glaring at the clock. Jack sets a timer for 5 minutes and you watch. There's something about watching either of the kids in the box that's interesting because you can see the moment they start to cool down and realise that maybe they're in there for a reason.

With Carter it's the way he starts to look towards Ellen, face scrunched up in guilt, biting on his little lip. You know at 2 minutes and 24 seconds in the sin bin, that Carter will never bite Ellen again and you know that he understands that he hurt her, really hurt her.

It's what has you putting her down and letting her waddle towards the box nearer to the time being over and what has you opening the box a minute early.

You lean into Jack's side and watch as Carter leans down and pulls his baby sister into a hug, before reaching for her arm and placing a kiss on the boo boo where he bite her a little too hard.

"'m sorry, Ellie. I shouldn't have bit you."

"'s okay, Cay-Cay" Because she always struggled to fully say Carter so he'd become Cay-Cay to her. She pats his cheek with her little hand and you know, you know it'll be okay, that you're raising two good kids even if they have their moments.

"Sin bin works again, and you wanted to get rid of it." Jack looks smugly down at you, all dimples and stupidly attractive smirk as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You roll your eyes at him even as you lean further into him, "Yes, well, I guess you have good ideas sometimes...biter."

"Hey! You love when I bite you...just, maybe need to avoid the jokes around the kids...did not see that coming."

[00valentina-writes00]

How about sevika with a terminally sick gf. I really loved the one you wrote for vi

♡♥︎Sevika with a terminally ill girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Sevika doesn’t show much, but she’s absolutely destroyed when she finds out. There’s a crack in her usually unflappable armor, a flicker of vulnerability she tries to bury beneath her usual hard edges.

♥︎ She doesn’t talk about it much, but she starts keeping tabs on doctors, researching treatments, and trying to get her hands on any illegal or experimental cures she can afford. She won’t let you give up, even if you’re already resigned.

♥︎ Her usual harshness turns into something colder. She doesn’t waste time with anything unnecessary. If she’s going to help you, it’s going to be in the most effective way possible. No sentimental words, just straight to the point: “I’ll fix this. You’re not dying on me.”

♥︎ When you start getting weaker, she gets more demanding. She pushes you to eat, to stay awake, to fight. She’s relentless because if she doesn’t see you fight, it breaks her apart

♥︎ There are nights when she stays up late, arms crossed, staring out at the dark streets of Zaun, thinking about ways to make you better. Even the shimmer she injects into her system doesn’t offer any comfort when she watches you fade.

♥︎ She spends hours researching obscure treatments, bargaining with shady figures, doing whatever it takes to extend your life, even if it’s just a few more weeks or days. It doesn’t matter how much it costs.

♥︎ At some point, she starts finding herself hovering at your side all the time. She doesn’t want to leave. Not even to sleep. It becomes a strange routine for her, a kind of forced comfort where the silence between you is full of things neither of you are brave enough to say.

♥︎ If you’re awake enough, she’ll push your hair out of your face, but she won’t look you in the eyes. She doesn’t know how to handle the emotions you bring out in her, and it terrifies her.

♥︎ She never asks you how you’re feeling or if you want to talk about it, because she’s afraid you’ll say that you’re giving up. She can’t handle hearing it from your lips, even though she knows deep down you’re right.

♥︎ She starts to get more agitated, snapping at people who are just trying to help because nothing feels like it’s good enough. If anyone says something remotely positive about your situation, she shuts them down hard. She can’t pretend like there’s hope when there’s none.

♥︎ When you can’t leave the bed anymore, Sevika starts bringing everything to you. Food, water, medicine, books to distract you—anything to keep you from slipping further into the darkness.

♥︎ She never shows her tears, but sometimes when she thinks you’re sleeping, she finds herself staring at you, face etched with raw pain, her jaw clenched tight to hold back the wave of emotions that threatens to drown her.

♥︎ Her temper is worse than usual. She’s quick to lash out at others, mostly because she’s so incredibly fucking scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of not being able to save you. And she hates herself for not being able to fix it.

♥︎ She makes herself scarce around people when it gets worse. She’s quieter, more brooding, because the weight of her guilt and helplessness is too heavy to share. The only place she feels even a little bit in control is by your side.

♥︎ On the nights you’re too weak to speak, she holds your hand with a tightness that borders on painful. Her touch is demanding, like she’s afraid you’ll slip away in the blink of an eye.

♥︎ She doesn’t let you see her fear. Every day is a reminder of how much she’s failing you. And every time she sees that spark of hope in your eyes, it drives her mad because she knows she can’t keep it alive forever.

♥︎ As things worsen, she starts avoiding the topic of your death. It feels like a betrayal every time someone mentions it. She ignores the reality, pretending there’s a chance things will magically improve.

♥︎ When you do finally die, it feels like she’s been hit by a freight train. The finality of it leaves her in a state of shock, unable to process it. She doesn’t cry in front of you, not even when she closes your eyes for the last time.

♥︎ Sevika keeps busy after your passing. She throws herself into work, into anything that will distract her from the empty space beside her. She stops sleeping, drinking herself into oblivion, until her body can’t keep up with her broken heart.

♥︎ There are days when the memories hit her in waves. She can still hear your voice in her head, your laugh, the way you’d complain when she pushed too hard. And every time, it feels like a weight she can’t shake.

♥︎ People stop asking her how she’s doing because it’s obvious. She doesn’t need words anymore. The silence speaks for her. She’s the same outwardly—cold, distant—but internally, she’s unraveling, a mess of emotions she doesn’t know how to deal with.

♥︎ She tries to convince herself it’s better this way. You aren’t suffering anymore, and she can’t deny that you were getting worse. But she also knows she’ll never be the same again. That part of her is gone, taken by something she could never control.

♥︎ In the long run, Sevika doesn’t let anyone get close to her again. The wound you left in her will never heal, and she doesn’t think anyone could ever fill the hole you left behind. Not that she’s ready for that anyway

♥︎ But every now and then, when she’s alone, she lets herself think back to you. To the time you spent together, how you made her laugh, how you made her feel alive again. And she lets herself grieve the woman who was once hers.

[opal-owl-flight]

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

[smallestapplin]

A kiss for the road

Arthur Morgan x traveling doctor!Reader

Warnings : no TB au, fluff, talks of some minor injuries, playful banter, established relationship.

This was commissioned by @yanban-san !

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The outlaw groans as he slowly rides into town, his horse taking a leisurely pace just so their rider doesn’t get jostled too much. Entering a familiar town was just what Arthur needed, he knew the right places to avoid attention. His shoulder aches, the cut on his cheek stopped oozing blood a while back, no doubt you’re going to be upset with him over that.

But you’re better than trying to patch it up at camp by himself.

Arthur told himself he wouldn’t fall, he’s not a good man, you deserve better than an outlaw like him, you deserve someone you could show off, someone you can go shopping with. He tsks at himself, so much for that plan. Snapping from his thoughts once his horse stopped moving, he found himself in front of a familiar little shop.

A traveling doctor, going from small town to small town to help people.

You’re too good for him. His blue eyes linger over your open sign showing him you must still be in your little traveling cart. The cowboy can’t stop the small smile from appearing on his face, knowing you aren’t going to be very pleased with him getting into more trouble, especially after you told him just a week ago to take it easy.

Well, he supposes it has its upsides.

Hopping off his horse, he ties her reins to the post near your open sign before he picks up the sign and flips it to ‘closed’, and just walks right in with no knocking. He spots you on the other side of the cart back turned to the door, fiddling around with tools he doesn’t quite remember the names of.

“Sorry, just one moment please. Terribly sorry about that, how can I-“ you pause mid sentence as your eyes lock onto your favorite cowboy, taking in the bruises over his cheeks, some hidden just beneath his shirt, he looks like a mess.

Arthur grabs his hat, taking it off and placing it over his chest.

“Sorry darlin’, it seems I got a few new wounds. Care to treat me, doc?”

Like his words snapped you from your thoughts as you rushed to him, gently grabbing his arms and moving him to take a seat. Oh Arthur knows he should feel bad about worrying, and he’d hate to admit it, but he finds himself enjoying your fretting, how you rush around grabbing things to clean and patch him up.

“Oh my god, Arthur! How many times do I have to tell you to be careful? Heaven and stars above you’re lucky you haven’t gotten any infections.”

He hisses under his breath, feeling you press antibacterial cleaner to his cheek. But he never takes his eyes off you, taking in your focused expression as you easily patch up his cheek.

You go to scold him more after you’re finished placing the bandage on his cheek, just for him to grab your wrist, carefully pulling you closer until your face is mere inches from his. Your cheeks burn at how close he is, but you can’t help but lean into him. Your hands on his shoulders balancing yourself as your lips finally meet his chapped ones, his hands move placing one on your lower back, and the other on your hip holding you close to him.

you’re surrounded by him, his warmth, his scent, god how you’ve missed him. your mind muddled even as he pulls his lips off yours, resting his forehead to yours.

“Am I forgiven, Doc?”

you blink once, twice, then several more times as you collect yourself, finally moving away from him to properly stand.

“I…suppose, but that depends if you have any more injuries.” You give him a pointed look with your hands on your hips.

“Now, why would you think I got any more wounds?” He feigns ignorance, a playful grin on his face as he watches you narrow your eyes at him in a playful return.

“Cause this is you we are talking about, Mr.Morgan. The second I let you leave this cart, you’ll have a new injury from lord knows where.”

He raises his hands up in mock surrender before he moves around, making sure his bad shoulder was the one facing you, his back now towards you while he places his hat next to him and unbuttoning his shirt, just enough to free his shoulder to show you. You want to scold him more as you take in the new injury, looking at how bruised his flesh is around the gash.

“How the hell did you manage that?”

Arthur tenses for a moment only to relax under your gentle touch, leaning against the warmth of your hand.

“Dumbest way possible, surely.”

You chuckle at his words as you begin to ready to clean the area.

“Oh, and how's that?”

“Finished a bounty, nice reward out of it too I can treat you after this. But, on the way back to camp some crazy jumped from the tree line and spooked my horse, threw me right off and well…there was a well placed rock right there.”

He can’t even see your face but he can hear you biting back your laughter. Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up, infamous gunslinger lost a fight to a rock.”

You finally can’t hold back your snickers, trying not to laugh too hard so you can see what you’re doing. Arthur grits his teeth, feeling your gloved hands brushing across the gash, listening to you hum.

“Well, luckily for you this cut isn’t too bad, you’re free from needing stitches, but I need you to tak it easy, it won’t heal right if you lift too much or go on crazy missions, alright?”

“Oh darlin’ you worry too much.”

“Arthur, I’m serious, you could risk infection and the area getting worse.” You get some gauze, wrapping it around his shoulder to make sure it’s secure, “You’ll need to come back everyday until it’s closed so I can monitor it, okay?”

Arthur looks back to you, his eyes meeting your worried filled ones, how did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve another chance at love? He didn’t know, but he knows he’s not going to let you slip away from him.

“Sweetheart, you know I’ll always come back to you, all that worryin’ ain’t good for ya.”

“I can’t help it, I love you too much, I alway worry about you.” You rest your head on his good shoulder, hands clinging to his shirt as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“I love you too, sugar, now come ‘ere, how much do I owe ya?” He swivels around to face you while he fixes up his shirt.

“Really? Something tells me you just like getting kisses.” You chuckle, a bashful smile crossing your lips.

He’s such a gentleman for an outlaw, and ever the giving lover, how did you get so lucky?

“If it helps you stop worryin’ I’ll give you as many as you need.”

Can you blame him though? His sweetheart is his doctor, a damn good one too, all patchin’ him up and fretting over him? He’s surprised you can’t hear his heart racing with what you do to him.

[velvetvexations]

*constantly talking about how stupid and selfish "TRFs" are* *contantly implying you understand gender better than most other trans women* *contantly harassing and insulting random people making posts* oh my god thank you for all the love! this is such a kind and accepting space 🤢

I mean yeah I am constantly excessively kind and patient when people aren't just saying "fuck trans men, those stupid bitchcunt vulva-havers for thinking they don't have it easy." This is extremely consistant in all my interactions. The few times when I was snappy at someone who didn't earn it I've directly apologized without prompting.

Recently someone who really badly wanted to be my friend and kept offering to hang out on Discord because she thought I was "lonely" got really dramatically upset because I blocked her after she defended misgendering trans men, describing this as me being a "single issue voter" because we disagreed about "one thing" and honestly that was hilarious. Truly wild behavior.

Like if you aren't going out of your way to be absurdly cruel to other people, yes, this blog is a place of love, and polite, reasonable engagement. If you've not had that experience, consider asking yourself why. And again, if any TRF, even one of the mega-popular ones I've ground my teeth over, wanted to say they were sorry for the rhetoric they've encouraged and personally thrown at others, I would support them. I would throw my weight entirely behind the effort to give them full amnesty for the many, many horrible things they've done and said.

Gotta say though, I'm not sure what's wrong with the accusation I think I understand gender better than some other trans women. Presumably if you put me and whoever you favorite TRF is in a room together, you would say one of us understands gender better than the other, right? I think I have a far more reality-based view than someone who thinks every Pastor Billy Bob who hates queers secretly agrees with us being women, and I'm pretty sure that's actually the majority opinion among trans women because I have a fairly high opinion of trans women as a demographic and it would be insulting towards them to even suspect otherwise.

[pigeonentity]

i keep thinking about them in terms of for and against each other: thirteen's against, twelve's for, eleven i think would be against, ten's for, and i haven't watched anything before him (yeah ikk im getting to it soon. watched it w my parents the first time so its on them) so i can't speak beyond that. dhawan's against, missy's for, and simm's against. like they've all got at least a little of both but they have a general direction

twissy worked out because they both cared about each other. missy came to help the doctor when he thought he was going to die, the doctor... locked her up, but he did have good intentions. i dont think we can say spydoc worked out, but i think since they both hated each other it went smoother than it could have. and tensimm was fucking doomed (neither of them want the same thing. they want each other to be different people)

twelvesimm, which was overshadowed by twissy but still deserves a mention, i think is similar to tensimm but with time could have had a higher chance of success, since 12, i think, might have responded more to him rather than trying to push him into someone who wanted to be better. tbh it might depend on the doctor's mood that day, im a little uncertain about this one but at the very least its a vaguely more functional tensimm

thrissy would break me. thrissy would be the anti-tensimm. missy shows up, still an enemy but also always, willingly and knowingly, a friend, and this time it's the doctor who says no. who tells her to fuck off, less distrust than expected and more loathing. they fight until missy realises it's not their usual games, and the doctor's gone too far stopping her. i mean come on her master tried to have her and her companions killed but it's not like he actually did it-- but she turned him over to the fucking nazis before she even knew he destroyed gallifrey, and missy killed osgood just after the doctor offered to have her as a companion, how would 13 take that?

11missy (elmissy? elemissy? mileven? no.) would run similarly, but if we're going with her using her same plan that she used on 12... he would take the army. he would take the army, however little he trusted her. i can see it going a few ways-- she leaves or he kills her or he locks her up somewhere because he's the doctor and she's the master and that's what he does, she comes back and suggests conquering the universe together or something, he says no and they fight, he says yes because he excuses murder if it aligns with what he wants, or if he likes the person enough (look at who he married!!) and they murder across the universe and we have canon thoschei until a companion saves the universe from them or river gets jealous

11dhawan would be AMAZING they have VERY similar energy and it would be SO much fun but also-- parallels? you could do so many little parallels with that? we see them spin the same way at the same time and they hate each other but one comments on something walking down a hallway and the other comes by and says the same thing and ughhh who do i pay to make this happen??

12dhawan has a special place in my hearts and i cant completely say why i just need them to meet. i need to be there when the master shows the doctor the timeless child and he cant accept it. idk if he'd be able to go the "there's more of me!" way out that 13 did, but he might be able to half do it, in that he realises he can overload the system but they break out of there through spite. i need to be there when the doctor says that ofc burning gallifrey is wrong, but he sides with the master. they lied to us. they lied to both of us. i need to see the master's anger, because he's being forgiven again. but he's not forgiving him, it's more that he understands, or like what he said to clara-- do you really think i care for you so little that betraying me could make a difference?-- and the master doesn't know what to do with that. he is so close to being better. but he doesn't want to be. so he burns himself up

10missy would work BUT i think 10 might take the army and theyd be less functional than twissy

I FORGOT THE ONES AFTER 13 skipping 14 bc he blurs into 10 for me even though they're different, but 15 would be for and he and missy would both hurtle into "this is MY queer friends to enemies to whatever the fuck we are and i can be as weird and dramatic about it as i like" not only are they both for but they're both on the exact same level as to what their relationship is and they're so fucking weird about it it's brilliant. varies a bit depending on who missy kills but i think there's a lot of chaotic potential there

but also if the master starts being too dramatic he would just tell them to shut up. which would also be brilliant

ANYWAY if anybody writes about any of these versions PLEASE tag me i need to read about them. pigeonentity on here and ao3. please

to me thoschei is one of those dress up games where i get to mix and match different items of clothing (versions of the doctor and the master) to create stunning outfits (tragic relationship dynamics)

[fumifooms]

Kabushuro

Kabru can fix Shuro I think. It’s cute how surprisingly similar they are...

Okay so they're a "we have similar issues" type of duo and the key word is performance.

1) They both treat socializing as a battleground, as a scripted dance there are right and wrong ways to act in, Kabru uses words and social relations as his weapon, especially as someone who was always disempowered otherwise in his life, and Toshiro from his noble background was raised in a very strict stifling way where rules, hierarchy and the importance of social cues were drilled into him. To kabru, being liked was what got him and continues to get him shelter at the island (his landlord even cleans his room for him) and what got and continues to get people to listen to him. To Toshiro, a right conduct is what gets him approval and what upholds the honor of not only him but his entire family and household, it's not just pressure but also his way to feel loved- which never worked with his dad. Kabru's dad left his mother when Kabru was born and Toshiro's father would never take interest in his sons, nothing they could do was grand and impressive enough, preferring instead to travel and horse around despite being a man of great import and military achievements. Community & social success are very important to Kabru and duty and societal approval are very important to Toshiro. Toshiro wants to fit into the expectations placed upon him and Kabru wants to wield social approval to better turn around and change these expectations and that pressure, work towards a society with less need to conform where more people can come to and find a safe home. Toshiro almost dreads his future role, while power couldn't come to Kabru fast enough.

2) They both repress themselves. While Kabru is a malleable tool to even himself, Toshiro's identity and demeanor is rigid, it's just not his own- but something he thought he had to replicate. They both suppress their true selves and their feelings to be more pleasing to the people around them and society and leave very little time for self-care. Neither have people they can truly be themselves with, Kabru not wanting to be vulnerable with anyone even his childhood friend Rin who went through similar trauma, and Toshiro having to be the honorable heir with everyone he interacts with, even feeling like he was betrayed by his mother figure Maizuru he loved when it turned out she also bent her spine for his (in his opinion) good-for-nothing father- he's constantly shadowed by his bodyguards, constantly monitored!!

Like the thing that gives them stress and that gives them validation is sorta the same (achievements & family expectations, understanding and playing people to get to goals) and like……………. Idk

They’re like. Parrot vs parakeet… They share the same cage and Kabru parrot is singing and playing with the enrichment puzzle toys and doing little dances meanwhile Toshiro is huddled in the corner quiet in a ball. Birds are stressed smart animals lol this makes sense to me.

Sooo they're both repressed guys who approach social relationships with a facade and hold the community & world's wellbeing above their own. They do have a lot of differences as well though, like how Kabru is so much more active than passive and paves his own path, meanwhile Toshiro has a hard time leading and tries much more to stay confined in the rigid structure of his life- again being malleable and adaptable vs rigid to a fault. They're both STRESSED and they both hate OPENING UP!

We see Kabru get Toshiro out of his shell a bit :) Though pushing Toshiro to be more active is something we see a couple people do in general, like how Namari dragged him into the "Asivia is causing problems in the party" pre-canon Laios party conversation. But where does this even go from there I hear you ask.

Well thankfully for us, Kabru likes figuring out people and Toshiro does crave some connection, as seen with Falin. Toshiro meeting someone not from the East who is still familiar with eastern customs (okonomiyaki for example), not enough to criticize Toshiro for doing things wrong but enough that Toshiro can relax around him. Knowing his intents get across. It’d be relaxing for Toshiro for sure to be around someone who like, gets social cues almost effortlessly. Kabru would seem to always read him so well even when he can’t express how he’s feeling and, even though it’d also be a bit (lot) scary in a feeling naked and you can’t hide anything from him way, it’d be soothing to know that literally like, that he doesn’t have to put up a front yes (because it'd be useless, Kabru sees A L L)- but also that he doesn’t have to even really communicate verbally almost, which he finds somewhat hard to do. They do still communicate very easily together though! Toshiro is good at picking up on things so he's not oblivious to Kabru's scheming and shrewdness, which makes their relationship easier to both work and be healthy imo.

They gain a sense of complicity pretty quick in canon. Chapter 32 my beloved. I love how he implicitly answers Toshiro's "Is that all?" later with Namari. He borderline opens up more to Toshiro that he's known for a couple days at most than he has to his own party he's known for years.

They just hang out and they tune to each other’s moods and the worries of the rest of the world around them melts a bit... Eventually. When Toshiro starts to actively notice things about Kabru back is when shit gets real on his end like oh... Oh shit…….

Reciprocity is so so interesting to think about especially with Kabru, always. It’s easy when it’s kind of like a play and attending to the other's every need and want just the right way, but then they want you to be part of the equation, what they want is you and not just what you offer them and suddenly it’s…… Not safe, or easy.

Thinking again about my theory that Shuro’s nightmare is just a barely exaggerated day at his house… The dread and suffocation and exhaustion of having eyes and all the weight of honor and behavior constantly follow him wherever he goes, pick his every movement apart. Benichidori style... But like, and how kabru doesn’t need Toshiro to tell him about that nightmare in specific to pick up on his less than ideal childhood. And kabru was in kind of a similar situation of feeling trapped at home by his parent too. Bonding, slowly but surely...

Kabru pulling the same strings he did on Dia’s boyfriend until Shuro’s a tearful mess (still barely holding them back). I do think he’d be a harder challenge, he’s way more repressed, less social and open and in touch with himself, unlike Dia’s fiance who’s all fiery I bet and seemdd to know what was the real issue bothering him… I think it’d be like enrichment for Kabru. Someone to get to know and it’s a lot of back and forth and mutual effort- Kabru’s very used to just, either pushing or receiving a ton in relationships, having people load their feelings and expectations onto him, reserved Toshiro would be refreshing I think. Someone who's not particularly interested in Kabru, and someone who wants to be focused on and looked at just as little as he does. It’s not like Laios where he has important motives to crack his mystery, the stakes are low he can just chill and enjoy trying to figure him out for the sake of genuine curiosity and a lil something in the air whenever they interact. They’re intriguing.

King of staying in his lane looking like a kicked puppy in his noble suit vs king of putting his nose in everyone’s business everywhere for the greater good getting to just have this thing that’s unprofessional and has no reason to be yet feels nice.

They should have regular meetups at the ramen joint, okonomiyaki trio ftw. A mutual letting down of walls in their offwork hours <3 It helps that he's already seen Toshiro at his worst I think. Kabru could even just hit him up sitting with him with a drink for a bit at the ending feast or something and they form a lil friendship :>

In a kabushuro timeline that adheres to post-canon would Toshiro live in Merini or would they be long-distance… Courting through letters and diplomatic travels as ambassadors…… Timeline where Kabru doesn’t become advisor and instead lives as Toshiro’s husband & like second head of the family is interesting… Although Kabru cares about using his politician status for change & greater good. I also do love Toshiro giving up on the heirdom too lowkey. See though the thing is that toshiro is ALSO about greater good, what he & traditions say is anyways, and it's stated that when he becomes the new head of the family things improve in the household- he's a better, more conscientious leader. Advisor x family leader kabushuro where Toshiro pushes for good Wa-Melini relations and an alliance... Every which way is neat

I need a fic where they just self-care and have a slow day hanging out together is the thing. They need a day at the spa (Toshiro needs a day playing in the mud actually but idk they can go to camping spa). Shuro takes a mud bath and realizes he’s entertaining himself by letting the mud drip from his fingers into a little pile on the rim. Even for small habits and stim he'd be super repressed I feel but finding subtle ways to stim king... Would kabru be good at massages? He 1000% knows how to massage out a knot in shoulders, it's a good way to get into people’s good graces... Kabru "I could help you to relax :)" especially if early on and he wants info/to have Toshiro as an ally. Shuro just melts into a puddle because he *really needed* a massage from someone (outside of the family). Didn’t feel like he’d have to continue performing. He knows human anatomy real well and stuff I bet if he tried he could even do acupuncture… Toshiro prob needs to get half-naked which makes him all 😖 but he gets over it and gets comfier the longer it goes on. Kabru’s satisfied/proud when he notices Toshiro’s discomfort get worn down over the minutes until he’s fully relaxed. Thank you @/saccharineomens for the brainstorm <3 God you just know they’d be in a situation where they’re sitting next to each other, having a real heart to heart, and kabru gently puts a comforting hand on Shuro’s leg while nodding sympathetically at him, and Shuro gets a little flustered at what appears to him to be a rather forward move lol.

Kabushuro eventually having the meanest gossip like just absolutely unleashing their pettiness together, I’d love to see it. They've got it in them I know it

The planning plotters...

[kittendreaw]

Actor! Satoru x F! Reader.

Mainlist

Pt.2

Satoru was on top of the world, he was the prince of Hollywood, the new heartthrob of the big screen, sounds fantastic, doesn't it?

It was for everyone except you, his poor manager, the only reason you haven't quit is because of how ridiculously good the pay is.

"Just Please make my job easier Satoru." You couldn't help but be frustrated, Dealing with Satoru was sometimes like dealing with a spoiled brat and sometimes it was just worse.

"Well, I'll pay you for that."

"You pay me to be your manager, not your babysitter so please stay here and cooperate."

And of course he didn't because it was complicated, no matter how long he had been in the industry he was still a pain in the ass for assistants, makeup artists, directors, photographers, etc. Basically anyone who had the misfortune to work with him.

It was always the same, you should be used to it by now but it was impossible.

"What do you mean you're not going to come with me?"

"It's not that hard to understand."

He rolled his eyes while his arms crossed over his chest. No matter your size or how high your heels are, Satoru was simply giant in front of you. "Don't be a Smartass, Yn, you're my manager, you have to come with me."

"Nanami will do the job of going with you that night."

"but I don't want Nanami! "

"I'll be busy with some paperwork that night."

" Well, have Nanami do the paperwork and you come with me."

" It's not that easy."

Yes, it was that easy but you hated big events and going to the Oscars was torture for you, you had managed to get away on most occasions but Satoru was getting more and more insistent.

"Why?"

You let out a sigh, you could make up as many excuses as you could he just always kept asking.

"Satoru, look, I don't want to go."

"Why?"

"I don't know I just-" You could deal with people, that was no longer the problem but you still don't get used to all the cameras ready to capture every second.

"Why do you mean? It's not that hard, you just have to get pretty and come with me, you can do that."

"But I don't want."

"But you don't want." He repeated, clearly he was not happy and clearly not the day was not going to end without him getting what he wanted. There was a pause in which no one said anything. "I'm your boss, you can't tell me no."

"You should review workers' rights, Satoru."

"Dammit." He muttered. "Just say yes, please. I swear it won't be so terrible, besides I already bought you a dress, it would be rude of you to refuse it."

A pair of puppy eyes and a few more pleas and just as he wanted it, there you were with the pretty burgundy dress, the high black heels and gloves of the same color.

"Look at you, you are beautiful."

Satoru approached you, observing every detail of your appearance. It was true that the dress was pretty and that the makeup artist had done an excellent job, but you couldn't help but make your stomach churn every time you remembered the place you were going.

"But I know how to do it even better."

Satoru called one of the attendants who held out a box from which he pulled out a diamond necklace. It was beautiful and also damn expensive, it was the kind of thing you'd never pay for but always admire from afar. Satoru put it around your neck giving the final touch to your look that night.

"I-" It was too much for you, you couldn't accept it.

"Not a single word, tonight you have to stand out, after all you are my date." You felt your soul leave your body for a few seconds, you had planned to stay as hidden as you could but Satoru wanted you next to him posing for the cameras, this was definitely too much, much more than you were ready to do, you couldn't, Your mind was only thinking about all the negative possibilities this could bring and all the embarrassing things you could do. You wanted to throw up, was it too late to get back to the paperwork plan?

"What?"

[come-as-you-are-111]

“Left On Read”

Warnings: nothin just angst

You don’t know when it started. The silence. The slow fade of what used to be effortless. One minute, Matt was your best friend—the person who knew you better than anyone. Late-night drives, deep talks, and inside jokes that no one else would ever understand. And then, suddenly, it wasn’t.

At first, you tried not to overthink it. You told yourself he was busy. That life got in the way sometimes, but he’d come back when he could. It wasn’t until the ignored texts started piling up, until the invites were met with, Sorry, can’t tonight, that you felt the first real crack in your chest.

Then came the moment that shattered everything.

It was late—past midnight, when the weight of missing him became unbearable. You sat in bed, staring at your phone, scrolling through months of old messages. Conversations that used to be filled with excitement, warmth, and care. Messages that now felt like echoes of something long dead.

You tried to ignore the lump in your throat as you typed.

Matt, if you don’t want me in your life anymore, just say it.

I don’t know what I did, but if I hurt you, I’m sorry.

Please just tell me what’s going on.

Your thumb hovered over the send button. Maybe this was stupid. Maybe you were making a big deal out of nothing. But deep down, you already knew the truth.

You sent it. The message turned blue. The seconds ticked by.

And then—

Read 1:14 AM.

Nothing.

Your stomach twisted painfully. Maybe he fell asleep before he could answer. Maybe he needed time to think. Maybe, maybe, maybe—

You turned off your phone, rolled onto your side, and let the weight of it settle over you like a heavy, suffocating fog.

The next morning, you woke up with dry eyes and a hollow chest. You checked your phone once, heart racing despite everything. But the screen was empty. No message. No explanation. No closure.

He wasn’t going to answer.

—

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. The pain didn’t leave, but it changed. It became quieter, duller, slipping into the background of your life. You stopped checking your phone so much. Stopped replaying old conversations in your head, wondering what you could have done differently.

But the reminders were everywhere. Songs that used to be your songs. Places that used to be your spots. People still asking, Hey, what happened between you and Matt?

You never had an answer.

And then, one evening, it happened.

You were halfway up the steps to your front door when something caught your eye. A single envelope, tucked into your mailbox, your name written in familiar, messy handwriting.

Your stomach dropped.

No return address. No indication of who it was from. But you didn’t need one. You knew.

Your hands trembled as you ripped it open.

I know you hate me. You have every right to.

I never meant to leave you like that. I thought I was doing the right thing.

I didn’t want to hurt you, so I left before I could. But I see now that I just hurt you worse.

I miss you. More than I can explain. But I know it’s too late.

Your breath hitched. The words blurred as your eyes stung.

I hope you’re happy. Even if it’s without me.

That was it.

No explanation. No apology that actually mattered. Just a half-hearted attempt at closure that came far too late.

You stood there on your porch for a long time, gripping the letter like it might disappear.

And then, finally, you pulled out your phone. The last message you had ever sent him still sat there, unread since that night. A message that never got a response, because he had decided you didn’t deserve one.

Your fingers hovered over the screen.

You could text him now. You could say something. Anything.

But instead, you folded the letter, walked inside, and tossed it into a drawer without another glance.

This time, you were the one leaving him on read.

A/n: Hi my lil monsters!! How we likey? Just felt like writing some angst today so hope yall liked it!

Love ya, Twilight

Sturniolo taglist:

@sturns-mermaid

[hanadulsetaad]

RICH KIDS OF SK ( HYUNJIN X READER (Y/N) X BANG CHAN PART 11

chapter 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7.1 CHAPTER 7.2 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11: exposed.

TAGS: CHEATING AND BETRAYAL

summary: Y/N's world turns chaotic when her crush dates her former friend-turned-foe. In a circle of rich kids filled with fake friendships and leaked secrets, she struggles to trust anyone. As new faces complicate things, Y/N wonders where she fits in. Will she find love with her crush, or discover it in unexpected places?

Y/N once believed that Bang Chan was the one—her safe haven, her happiness finally within reach. But she was wrong.

After three months of their relationship, Y/N’s father, determined to protect the family’s reputation, hired professionals to uncover those threatening their name. The truth surfaced—Bang Chan and Seungmin’s identities were exposed. However, given their youth, barely in their early twenties, Y/N’s father chose not to take legal action.

Then came the revelation that sent shockwaves through the public. Seo Y/N was not who she seemed. She was, in fact, the daughter of Changbin and Y/N’s father’s elder sister—an infamous figure behind one of the largest financial scams in Korea, a woman who had ultimately been imprisoned. With the truth laid bare, Changbin’s father had taken Y/N in as his own, raising her away from the sins of her birth mother.

Y/N sat across from them, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. The air was thick with tension, the kind that suffocated, that made every breath feel like a struggle. Bang Chan sat rigid, his jaw tight, eyes cold and unreadable. Seungmin, on the other hand, leaned forward, his glare burning holes into her.

"My parents invested in your mother’s company," Seungmin spat, his voice sharp as a blade. "They lost everything. I lost everything because of your mother’s scam."

Y/N’s heart pounded against her ribs, but her face remained still, unreadable. She had anticipated this confrontation, but she hadn’t expected the venom in his voice to cut this deep.

"So you decided to ruin my life for someone else's mistakes?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

Seungmin scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smirk. "Your mother’s mistake, Y/N."

Y/N’s hands trembled slightly, but she clenched them tighter, digging her nails into her palms. "She is just my fucking birth mother! I have no relation to her, no connection! I am not her, Seungmin!"

"And yet you exist because of her," Seungmin shot back, his voice laced with unrelenting bitterness. "Her blood runs through your veins. You’re a part of the family that destroyed mine."

Bang Chan finally spoke, his voice eerily calm. "You lived a life of privilege while others suffered. Do you even know what it feels like to lose everything? To wake up one day and realize your entire life is gone because of someone else's greed?"

Y/N’s eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. "You think I haven’t suffered? You think I haven’t spent my whole life being reminded of who she was, of what she did? You think I haven't felt the weight of sins I never committed? I had no say in my birth, no choice in where I came from!"

Seungmin let out a cold laugh. "And yet, here you are, still standing, still breathing while my parents—while so many others—live in misery."

"And ruining me was going to fix that?!" Y/N’s voice finally cracked, her mask slipping for just a moment. "Hurting me, exposing me, humiliating me—was that your justice? Did it make you feel better? Did it bring back what you lost?!"

Seungmin faltered for a second, but his pride wouldn’t let him waver. "At least now people know the truth."

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "The truth? The truth is that you took out your anger on the wrong person. The truth is that you wanted someone to blame, and I was just convenient. The truth is that you became no better than the people you hate."

Y/N looked at Bang Chan, her vision blurred with tears, her chest tightening with unbearable pain. "I really loved you," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Why did you hurt me, Bang Chan? Why did you break me like this?"

Tears gathered in Bang Chan’s eyes, his lips quivering as he struggled to maintain his composure. He watched the love of his life shatter before him, knowing he was the reason for her agony. But before he could even try to speak, Y/N's voice cracked through the silence like lightning.

"Did you ever fucking love me, Chan? Or was it all just a lie?" Her voice was raw, pleading for a truth she already feared.

Bang Chan exhaled shakily, guilt crushing him from the inside. "Initially… I didn’t," he admitted, his voice barely holding together. "But I did end up falling in love with you. I swear, I did." He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "I can’t ask you for a second chance, Y/N. I don’t deserve one. We’ve only been together for a few months… maybe it was just an attraction, a phase we’d both move past. But still, I… I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry."

His voice broke at the end, his heart screaming for her to stay, to forgive him, to tell him it wasn’t too late.

Seungmin let out a hollow, bitter laugh as he stepped forward, his expression void of any sympathy. "If you’re done, leave."

Y/N didn’t move. She stayed rooted in place, her eyes never leaving Bang Chan’s face. The man she had trusted, the man she had given her heart to, was now standing before her, offering nothing but regret. A part of her had hoped—prayed—that he would fight for her, beg her to stay. But now, looking at him, she realized… she had been nothing more than a fleeting moment to him.

She swallowed the sob threatening to escape her throat. "I thought you would be desperate to apologize to me. That you’d fight for me. That you’d want me, even after everything. But I guess… I was the only one who truly loved in this relationship."

Her voice wavered as she reached into her bag with trembling hands. She placed a cheque on the table, her fingers brushing against the cold surface. Her chest felt hollow. "Seungmin, this is the amount your mother invested, along with compensation. Every single won. It’s yours. I’m sorry."

Then, without hesitation, she bent forward into a deep, full 360-degree bow. A bow of sorrow, of loss, of goodbye.

When she straightened up, her eyes, filled with unspoken pain, met Seungmin’s. "If you had just told me the truth… I would have apologized. I would have given you everything you lost."

Her lips quivered into a broken smile, one that barely held against the tears spilling down her cheeks. "But now, there’s nothing left to say."

She turned away, each step she took feeling heavier than the last. The door shut softly behind her, sealing the fate of everything they once had.

The room was silent. Seungmin and Bang Chan stood frozen, the weight of her words suffocating them. A dull, aching pain settled in their hearts, one neither could escape.

And for the first time, Bang Chan realized—he had let go of the one person who truly loved him, and there was no undoing it.

But it was too late. She was gone.

taglist: @lee-knows-cats@luvvvash@rockyhedgehog@chansbabygirlsstuff@nilas-posts@midsoulz@hynnnpic

SORRY FOR UPDATING AFTER SO MANY MONTHS. I WILL BE UPDATING REGULARLY FROM NOW ONE< 333

[until-the-house-shakes]

Adoption Fight

Wolfstar raising Regulus / Werewolf! Regulus

-

Remus should have known this was going to happen. It’s only been a few months of him and Sirius taking care of Regulus, and each day ended in some terrible blow out- the brothers screaming at each other, doors slamming, and hatred easily being thrown about.

Why did he think this topic would be easy sailing?

For some brilliant reason, Sirius decided to legally get Regulus’ last name changed to mirror their own and get the adoption process started as well. The name changing process was easy enough seeing as Regulus’ parents legally gave up all parental rights of the werewolf, but they still needed a few signatures from the kid himself.

Getting his signature and trying to even discuss adoption was not going as easy as they hoped.

It started off as an easy conversation, asking if Regulus enjoyed living with them, and if he wanted to make his stay more permanent.

“Won’t maman have an issue with me staying here permanently? I thought this was just for the summer?” Regulus asked, looking through the papers his brother handed him. It looked innocent enough, but he wasn’t stupid. He read the words ‘adoption’ and ‘legal guardianship’. He knew what these two men are planning.

“We already talked to her. She thinks this is a better place for you to live.” Sirius lied. Regulus knew he was lying. He was awful at it.

“You’re lying. This isn’t what she wants. She’ll get mad and punish me! You know that.” The young werewolf was now on his feet, getting louder with each passing second.

One issue the married couple have yet to get a grasp on was the younger’s temper. He easily went from the sweetest kid anyone has met to meaner than both his parents combined. Remus should have known this would happen, as it was a very common symptom many werewolves dealt with, but adding in the ‘Black Madness’? He felt woefully unprepared.

“She won’t punish you, Regulus.” Sirius started, getting closer to his brother.

“How do you know? You know nothing! You haven’t been home in ye-“

“Because she fucking abandoned you! You left you! She made me and Remus take care of you because she couldn’t be bothered. She fucking hates you, told me herself.”

The world seemed to freeze once that comment left Sirius’ mouth. It was obvious to even an outside eye that the youngest Black was no longer ‘mama’s precious boy’ but to say she hated him? That she abandoned him and gave parental rights to his brother of all people?

And for what reason?

Because he was turned? Because one of their shitty friends made him a monster? That wasn’t even his fault, so why is he getting abandoned for it!

He could do better. He could be better. He could be the perfect son his maman was raising him to be, even with his stupid furry little problem.

“She doesn’t hate me.” Regulus mumbled, running straight to the kitchen. Looking for something to destroy. Something to get his anger out.

Glass plates.

Perfect.

“Hey, Reg. Let’s not do anything cr-“ Remus tried to calm the boy down, but to no avail. Before he could finish his statement, one of their wedding plates was thrown at the wall- effectively shattering it.

“I’m not fucking crazy!” Regulus screamed, throwing yet another plate. This time aiming for his lying brother.

“Regulus please stop! Being a Lupin isn’t a bad thing! I think it’s much better than being a Black.” Sirius flinched from his spot, much too scared to get closer to his brother- not wanting to make the situation any worse.

“I’m a Black. Not a fucking Lupin.” Regulus growled, throwing yet another plate at his brother, watching as it shattered.

Hearing and seeing all the tiny pieces of glass hit the floor, was the only comfort Regulus got during this conversation.

The only peace.

His mother hated him. His dad saw him as a monster. He was stuck with his brother who left when he was four, and another monster.

Regulus didn’t know what peace was. Until he saw the plate shatter against the wall.

-

The tantrum only lasted another two minutes until Remus was able to get his wand and move the plates far away from the angry ten year old.

“Alright, I think that’s enough. Go to your room, and calm down. Once you’re willing to talk calmly to us, we can resume this conversation.” Remus pointed at Regulus’ room, up the stairs. This was not the first time he had to intervene in an argument between the two brothers, and he was starting to get very sick of it.

He loved having Regulus live with them, but after watching this shit show and having his wedding plates- which were a family heirloom from his late ma- shattered all over his living room floor, Remus wasn’t too sure where he stood on the ‘adopting regulus’ matter.

“I fucking hate it here.” Regulus grumbled, stomping his way up the stairs and slamming his door shut.

The two men spared each other a fleeting look before starting to pick up the mess left by the youngest member of the house.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, likely a pitiful excuse on why he lost his temper, but Remus was quick to raise his hand and shake his head, “not right now. I want to hear nothing from you.” It was clear the brunette was close to tears, and it broke Sirius’ heart.

Remus always had to deal with the brother’s bullshit, and now he was the only one negatively affected by one of their regular blowouts. Sirius looked at the pile of glass that surrounded their feet, and felt even worse once he realized that no amount of magic could fix the million pieces of glass. Nothing he did could bring the plates back to how they used to be.

Nothing could make Remus not mad at him.

-

Two hours later, Sirius was hunched over a pile of glass in his office. He tried every single spell he knew and nothing brought the plates back to their former glory. In a moment of weakness, Sirius thought about apperating to Wales to buy a set identical to the broken plates, but then remembered that it was a ‘one-of-a-kind’ set that Hope had received from her mother, who received it from her mother, who received it from her mother.. and that pattern seemed to never stop. Needless to say, the plates were irreplaceable and the last thing Remus received from his mother before she passed.

And now a majority of them were broken in a pile in front of Sirius.

What was he going to do?

Sirius’ self wallowing was cut short by a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” He answered, hoping to see Remus walk in, but was instead greeted by a much smaller werewolf.

“Hey Reg, feeling any better?” Sirius asked, opening his arms for his little brother to take comfort. Yes, he was still very upset with the younger boy for reacting how he did, but he would never take away any comfort Regulus might seek out. He was not his parents, and would never act like them. No matter how mad he was. He was going to drill it in Regulus’ mind, that he was always safe and welcome in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” Regulus whispered, shoving his face in his older brother’s chest. Trying to hide from his mistakes.

“Do you really hate it here?” Sirius asked, petting the short black curls.

“I don’t. I promise. I… I was so upset. I was hurt that mom didn’t want me anymore and… it stung when you said she hated me. So I freaked out. I wanted to hurt you too. I’m sorry.”

Sirius sighed. Of course this traumatized kid was hurt and wanted to even the playing field out. It made sense. That’s exactly what Sirius used to do until he spent a few years with a mind healer and in a healthy relationship. When he was hurt he wanted others to hurt just like him or worse. Being hurt meant he was vulnerable, so if he made others vulnerable, he had nothing to worry about. It sucked that his poor baby brother had the same idea.

“I’m sorry too. I lost my temper and said things I should not have said. If it makes you feel any better, mother hates me too and disowned me long before she did you.” Sirius laughed, hoping it would make Regulus laugh as well.

It did not.

“I don’t hate you though. Neither does Remus. We love having you here, which is why we want to adopt you. We want you to legally be our kid, our family. That’s why we want you to share our last name. To really seal the deal.”

Regulus looked at his older brother with wide eyes. Was he being honest? Did he really want Regulus to be a part of his family? For the last two months, all Regulus did was cause fights, scream at Sirius, insult Remus, and make everyone’s life difficult. His own birth parents didn’t want him. So why did his brother want him?

What was so special about him?

“You promise you actually want me?” Regulus whispered. Too scared to speak any louder. Too scared to burst this bubble of safety his brother carefully created.

“I pinky promise Mon Ètoile. I want you here more than anything.”

The small promise filled Regulus with such a warm feeling. Much warmer than any feelings his maman could make him feel. It was almost too much.

Actually. It was too much.

Far too much emotion.

Like he couldn’t control it at all. He couldn’t hold it in. All his emotions had to escape. It had to leave his heart and mind and become physical.

It was terrifying, and hurt just a little bit.

But then in a flash. It was over. His emotions felt normal yet again.

Odd.

“What just happened?” Regulus asked, looking around the room as if one of the inanimate objects would answer him.

“I think you had some accidental magic happen, Reg. Nothing to worry about! You were feeling some big emotions and they had to come out. No big… no fucking way.” Sirius cut himself off, looking at some plates on the desk next to him.

Wait. Those were the plates Regulus broke. Or at least, he thought he broke them.

“Did I just fix the plates?” Regulus asked, awestruck at what he just did.

“I think you did mon ètoile. Why don’t you go grab Remus and bring him here so he can see? I’m sure he’ll be very happy.” Sirius smiled, ushering his brother out of the room to grab his other guardian.

In the few minutes he had by himself, Sirius tried to wrap his head around what just happened. He spent two hours trying to fix these plates and had no luck, but his brother managed to fix them with a rush of accidental magic?

It made no sense.

Oh well. It didn’t really matter as long as they stayed fixed.

-

Later that night, the three boys were all cuddled together on the couch, watching a muggle movie on a ‘telly’ as Remus called it. Regulus really liked all the muggle inventions Remus showed him. They were always so interesting!

“… Can I still change my name?” Regulus asked once there was a pause in the movie. The two adults haven’t said anything else about the adoption or his last name changing since he apologized for his outburst, and he was worried that they were going to take back their offer.

He didn’t want them to take away their offer. He wanted to be a Lupin. He wanted to be wanted by someone.

“Of course you can, cub. We can continue the process tomorrow, but I can’t promise it will happen anytime soon. Stuff like this tends to take a while.” Remus answered, bringing Regulus closer to his side. It warmed the older werewolf’s heart to know the kid genuinely wanted to be a part of their family, even if they fought.

“I would love nothing more than to share my last name with you again, mon ètoile.” Sirius ruffled his brother's hair, laughing as the younger complained about it.

Sirius looked over at his husband cuddling with his brother, and felt his heart swell. Sure, these past two months haven’t been an easy adjustment with Regulus living with them, but they’re making it work, and soon they’ll legally be a family of their own.

A happy little family

Hopefully.

[olderthannetfic]

oh, so looks like AI is again the hot topic of this blog?

here’s my thing: (“fuck AI disclaimer here”), I often see the sentiment of “I want AI to do my job/chores/etc, not my hobbies.” In fact, I believe there’s actually a pretty popular post about that? Can’t find it now lol but I saw that almost exact tweet used as a reaction image/post addition several times. And, sure! If there was a way to do that in an environmentally sound, completely passing the Turing test way, I’d agree!

but, um guys,… some of us DO have writing or art or whatever as our job. So by that logic, AI IS doing our job. Not in a good way of course. But I don’t know, it almost feels like people who are primarily hobbyists/fandom focused in their art or writing (which is totally fine, don’t get me wrong) are, without even realizing it, implying that writing or making art or whatever isn’t a job for some people.

Obviously I know that writers/artists/etc who do it as "just" a hobby are very aware that it's a career lol. And are indeed also often advocates for anti-Ai In the work place! Because they know it’s taking our careers away. But i just find it odd when ppl are like "i want Ai to do my LAUNDRY and my DISHES and my WORK! not my HOBBY! which is why AI ART IS BAD!" like… im not trying to be hostile because i truly will admit i am likely taking it way too personally and I KNOW that’s no one intent, but it kinda irritates me, yk?

Also, what do you mean by AI doing your job? You can’t be anti GPT in regards to fun writing, but pro GPT in regards to whatever bullshit customer service thing you have to write. Self checkout? Is AI, can’t imagine anyone is too offended by it. Those annoying, but mostly harmless, robot answering machines where you have to scream “CUSTOMER SERVICE REP” in order to get thru to anyone? AI. Chat bots that you “Talk to” during Off-hours when no one is actually available? AI. And way better AI than stupid GPT slop. Not fun, but definitely a bit more manageable.

So, yeah, there’s good AI. There’s bad AI. And for some, AI art IS ruining our hobby spaces… but for some, AI art IS indeed “replacing our jobs”. Which is not a good thing btw. also, I wanna add that I’m not vagueing or particularly pissed off at any other asker here. Mostly just venting in general. So I apologize if I come off as particularly hateful or if “making up a guy to get mad at”. It just upsets me to see people talking about “wanting AI to do their job not their hobby” when the AI they hate in question…. IS many people’s jobs. Like I said I KNOW I’m taking it way too personally and maybe even completely misinterpreting! But it just, ugh.

--

[beef-brisket]

Adam: She's pathetic. She's that caught up on you that she can't think of anything else. She's... like a like a fungus.

Lucifer: ...A fungus?

Adam: Yeah, she's like Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. She infects all the idiots around here to do her dirty work. She makes them climb to the tallest bullshit place to release spores over other idiots, then THEY climb to high, bullshit places.

Lucifer: Ophio... what?

Adam: Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. It's a zombie fungus. Don't worry about it. She's like a... germ. Yeah! This is a better analogy! She's like a germ that infects dumbasses that don't wear masks.

Lucifer: ...I... think I get what you're saying.

Adam smiled and kissed his forehead: Good, because if I see her, she's going to get a vaccine delivered by my fist.

Lucifer laughed: That's terrible.

Adam: I mean it, Lu! She's fucking pathetic! She's filled this area with her little henchmen that have nothing better to do than torment the most sweetest person. And I fucking hate more people can't see through her bullshit...

Lucifer sighed softly when Adam wrapped his arms around him, holding him closer.

Adam: I'm so sorry you've gone through this, Lu. I'm so fucking sorry... but I won't let them hurt you, I promise.

Lucifer: I-I don't want you getting hurt.

Adam: Don't worry about me, babe. Worry about the next fucker that decides to open their mouth. Actually, fuck that, don't worry at all. They don't deserve it.

Lucifer chuckled: ...I'll worry about you.

Adam: Not too much, babe. I'll be okay.

After a few minutes, Adam tucked Lucifer in on the couch and put on a movie while he got started on dinner.

When he brought it out, Adam sighed and sat next to him: Need to go shopping at some point. I'm eating all of your food.

Lucifer chuckled: I order it, Ad. You don't need to go anywhere.

Adam: Damn, you've got it all figured out, huh? Such a smart cookie you are, babe. Fucking hate the supermarket.

Lucifer: Oh?

Adam: A lady tried to steal my biscuits once. Right out of my fucking trolley! I saw her little wrickled hand reach in and try to fucking grab them! I slapped her hand so hard she yelped. Stupid old bat.

Lucifer laughed: How have you lived this long?

Adam: My mom said it's because of spite.

Lucifer: G-Good lord. You're an idiot~.

Adam smiled and leaned on Lucifer's shoulder: Yeeah, and now I'm your idiot!

-

Adam: Time to go to sleepy time Junction, my king!

Lucifer laughed when Adam picked him up from the couch and carried him to the bedroom.

Lucifer: A-Adam!

Adam: Quickly! The Eepy train is about to leave the Junction! We must hurry!

Lucifer chuckled when Adam softly dropped him on the bed before launching over him and onto the other side.

When Adam looked saddly at Lucifer, the blonde couldn't help but roll his eyes. The man has such an adorable pout that he didn't know how to handle it.

Lucifer: What's wrong?

Adam: You're getting your cast off soon... you might not like being carried around when you can walk again...

Lucifer laughed: How couldn't I like being carried by my strong knight?

Adam perked up: Knight?! Really?! That sounds so hot!

Lucifer: I uh... was wondering something.

Adam smiled and snuggled up to Lucifer: Mm? What were you wondering?

Lucifer: Would... would you like to stay here... even after my casts off? M-Maybe I could... stay the night at your place.

Adam beamed and kissed Lucifer's face, making him laugh: I'd love that! I'd have to clean up and get the place in order... but yes! Come over! Stay! Ooh- I have board games! Wait, you need more than two people... I have video games!

Lucifer kissed him back: I look forward to it.

Adam: Me to... and we'll get you to that pond, Lu. Next time, no one will ruin it.

Lucifer: Thank you, Adam. For everything.

Trapped Heart

@beef-brisket

⚠️This deals with Agoraphobia, anxiety, depression, and mentions of domestic abuse ⚠️

-

Adam: Well that's the last of them.

He looked around his new home and smiled, this place was so much better than his last home and a third of the price too.

They were practically giving it away.

There was his lawn mower that was on the truck still.

Adam went out to put it in the garage when he noticed his neighbor, a short blonde man getting his mail from his box. He was better looking than his last neighbor.

Adam waved: Hey!

Lucifer jumped as he grasped his mail, he looked over and saw a handsome brunette standing in the driveway across the road smiling and waving.

Lucifer: O-Oh, hi!

Adam: Names Adam, I just moved in.

Lucifer: N-nice to meet you! I'm Lucifer, I hope you like it here.

He wanted to be polite and welcome his new neighbor right, but he could already feel the cold tendrils of anxiety start to slowly crawl through his skin trying to wrap around him like a vice grip.

How long has he been outside? His heart started to beat a little hard with each moment he's not back in his home. He could die! He's not safe he needs to get back!

Adam: Yeah me too.

By the looks of it he already likes what he sees.

Lucifer nodded, he could feel the tremors starting in his hands the palms getting sweaty.

He needs to go.

Lucifer: I-It was nice to meet you Adam! B-But I need to get going.

Adam: Oh okay, maybe we can hang out sometime?

Lucifer gave a tight smile: Y-yeah.

He waved again to be polite and tried not to run back to his house, his therapist said it was good for him to be out as long as he could stand it.

Pushing himself a little each day. Today him reached his limit.

Once his front door was closed and locked behind relief washed over him, he's safe now nothing can hurt him. He hugged his mail to his chest, he needed to sit down.

Lucifer went over and placed everything on the coffee table. He tried to remember his breathing exercises.

Adam seemed very nice, maybe he'll send Charlie over when she comes to give him a proper greeting.

-

Adam tilted his head as he watched his new neighbor go into his home, if he didn't know any better he would say the man was panicked. Did he do something? He knows his personality can be a little brash at times but he thought he was being polite.

A man that lived beside him came out for his mail as well.

Adam: Hi! Umm, I'm new here.

Alastor: Oh hello! I'm Alastor, I guess that makes us neighbors.

Adam chuckled: Guess so. Umm, if I may ask, is the man that lives there okay? I didn't intend to upset him.

Alastor looked over at Lucifer's home and rolled his eyes.

Alastor: Getting the mail was he? Don't worry about it that man's afraid of his own shadow. I wouldn't waste my time, he never leaves his house.

Well that sounded a little dramatic.

Adam: What?

Alastor leaned on the fence: Oh yeah, Mr. Morgenstern over there never leaves his house. Rumor has it that his wife used to beat the fuck out of him in the home but it was worse when they were in public. Apparently she'd just humiliate him and others would join in making things worse. He was never free of her but at least in the home he could be alone.

Adam was horrified to hear that: Dude, the fuck, is that true?

Alastor shrugged: Not sure. All I know that is true is she left him nearly 8 years ago and he's become some kind of hermit that never leaves the damn house. His daughter Charlie, sweet girl you'll likely meet her, comes over from time to time.

Adam looked over at Lucifer's house, that couldn't all be true right? Maybe some was and the rest is telephone gossip extras?

Him and Alastor parted ways, he had to put everything away in his house. All the while his mind kept going back to the handsome neighbor across the way.

[writerinlearning]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲. 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞.

plot: henry is always here for his best friend, but everyone reaches their breaking point eventually. but maybe, just maybe, this is for the best.

pairing: henry hart x fem!reader

show: henry danger

warnings: light mentions of blood, cuts and bruises; implied domestic violence but nothing graphic; henry swearing when he’s pissed off (listen, that boy swears a lot and you can’t convince me of the opposite). also, the part in italics is a flashback from henry's pov.

word count: 6,8k

author’s notes: english isn’t my first language, apologies for the possible mistakes. this piece is inspired by the song Hard from Why Don’t We, and i guess a little bit by the song Treat You Better from Shawn Mendes, so i suggest you listen to the songs beforehand to get the vibe of the story, or read the lyrics to know what it’s about. it takes place around season five of henry danger, to give you an idea of how old the characters are. also, it’s implied that the reader is in a bad relationship, it might be triggering for some people so read it to your own discretion. and if you ever need anyone to talk to, my dms are always open.

henry hart masterlist | main masterlist

Henry lays wide awake in his bed, looking up at the ceiling above him. His hands are flat on his stomach as he lays on his back, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He knows it’s late at night and that he’ll probably regret it in the morning, aware that he’ll have to wake up around 7 if he doesn’t want to be late for school again. He just can’t seem to get her out of his head. Every day and every night, she plagues his every thought; Y/N, his best friend since kindergarten. 

When he’s at school, she’s on his mind. When he’s at work, she’s on his mind. When he lays alone in bed at night, she’s on his mind. No matter what he’s doing, or where he is, she’s always in a corner of his mind. Always. It doesn’t help that she goes to the same school and works in the same place; he’s always catching sight of her, even when she isn’t looking. He doesn’t know how anyone hasn’t said anything to him, or how she hasn’t noticed him staring, because he isn’t the most subtle person in the world when it comes to his feelings for her. He always gets sidetracked when she enters a room, his eyes always linger on her when she walks away, his cheeks always flare up when she smiles, and when she stands close to him, he always pretends to accidentally brush his hand against hers, craving the warmth of her skin against his. Perhaps he is better at hiding his feelings than he thought he’d be; either way, he doesn’t mind. If his feelings are unacknowledged by the people around him, it makes it easier to push down those feelings, forever wondering if they’ll go away; if it’ll hurt less every time she walks away.

Henry lets out a sigh, turning on his side to check the time on his bedside clock. The bright red numbers display 12:15 in the morning, and he groans, burying his face in his pillow out of frustration. He knows he won’t get enough sleep to get himself through the day and that he’ll probably fall asleep in class at some point, and he hates it. He doesn’t really know when his sleep schedule became fucked up; if it had been when he first became Kid Danger when he was thirteen, or if it were since he first realized he had feelings for Y/N. Perhaps a little bit of both, he thinks. He did choose to become Captain Man’s sidekick, but he certainly didn’t choose to fall in love with his best friend. He hates it, but there isn’t much he can do about it; even if he tries to push his feelings away, they’ll always come back to bite him in the ass. It doesn’t help that Y/N already has a boyfriend and, granted, Henry hates the guy, but Y/N seems happy with him so Henry thinks it’s all that matters. If she is happy, then he is happy for her. At least, that’s what he told himself when she first began dating the guy; he went back on his words when he realized he loved her.

Henry closes his eyes as he sighs again, remembering the night when he admitted to himself that he was in love with Y/N. She hadn’t shown up to his birthday party that his parents had thrown, which was unlike her and it had him worried the whole night. Until she showed up, at midnight, on his front porch. 

Y/N is standing there, with tears in her eyes as she looks up at him. Her arms are wrapped around herself in a hug, as if she were trying to shield herself from the cold air of the night. Henry doesn’t know what to say, still mad that she wasn’t there for his birthday party, but his anger dissolves into nothing when his eyes drift to the red tear stains on her cheeks. He holds his breath as a sob rushes past her lips, and his arms find her waist to hold her up when her knees almost give out under her weight. He leads her inside, closing the front door behind him with the heel of his foot, and he helps her up to his room where she sits on his bed. 

Henry doesn’t have to say anything as he sits next to her and she rests her head on his shoulder, but he is smart enough to understand. He feels his chest tighten when his mind makes him think about what might have happened, that perhaps her boyfriend had laid a hand on her, and he tilts his head downward to look at her. He shivers at the thought, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. He knows it hasn’t been long since she started dating this guy from high school, about a month or two, but she seemed happy with him, and Henry frowns when he thinks about it. His hands move to hold the sides of her face as he shifts in his spot to be facing her, and his eyes flicker to the fading bruise in the corner of her left eye. His frown deepens, not remembering ever seeing a bruise on her face before, but his features soften when tears begin to roll down her cheeks the second his eyes drift back to hers, holding her gaze in his. He uses his thumbs to wipe the tears away, worry flashing in his eyes. Warmth spreads through his muscles when her hands find his wrists, and she wraps her fingers around them to ground herself. Her hands are cold, but her skin is soft against his, and his heart flutters in his chest. Another sob leaves her lips, and Henry moves his hands to wrap his arms around her shoulders to pull her close to him. 

“Wanna tell me what happened?” He whispers softly, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

Y/N shakes her head a little, further burying it into his chest as she grips the hem of his shirt, her tears forming wet patches against the cotton fabric. Her shoulders tremble with every sob that leaves her body, but Henry keeps her close to him, using his hands to draw soothing circles against her back. He closes his eyes as he begins to rock their bodies back and forth gently, until her sobs die down and he can hear the slow pace of her breath and her soft sniffles. She’s the one to pull away from him, using the palm of her hand to wipe away her runny nose, and her lips break into an embarrassed smile as she looks down in her lap. One of her hands reaches for something in the pocket of her coat, and Henry tilts his head in confusion when she hands him a small white box with a silver ribbon on it.

“Happy birthday Hen.” Y/N whispers hoarsely, looking at him with a small smile on her lips. 

He smiles then, taking the box from her and unraveling the ribbon before he carefully opens the lid. He recognizes what it is; she has the same one, and she gifted one to Jasper and Charlotte too, on their respective birthdays. It’s a permanent chain silver bracelet, one Y/N says is supposed to represent their friendship. Henry knew he would get one from her eventually, because she’d gifted one to their friends, he just didn’t think she’d gift it to him on his eighteenth birthday.

“I love it.” He tells her, smiling.

She smiles back. “C’mon, I’ll help you put it on.”

Henry can still see the sadness in her eyes, and the fading purple bruise in the corner of her eye, but he lets her take the chain bracelet and the pair of cutting pliers provided in the kit. He extends his right arm in front of him, and she puts the silver bracelet around his wrist, using the pliers to cut the chain. He observes as she concentrates herself on sealing the bracelet, making sure it’s not too tight so that it sits comfortably on his wrist. He watches her, and his heart flutters in his chest when her fingers brush against his skin, sending shivers down his spine and he can feel the heat flushing his cheeks. His eyes drift to her face, and he sees that she’s slightly poking her tongue out in concentration, licking her lips after taking a deep breath. His heart begins to race in his chest, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach when she brings the palm of her hand against his to analyze her work on the silver chain. He holds his breath when she glances up to him through her eyelashes, a soft smile on her lips. He hears her let out a small chuckle when he looks away from her, knowing his cheeks are probably as red as a tomato, but he can’t help it; she looks beautiful, wrapped in her black coat and with her hair falling on each side of her face, eyebrows turned into a focused frown as she focuses on the permanent bracelet again. She shifts positions, and her knees touch his, sending a wave of warmth through his muscles. He loves having her close to him, in the comforting silence of his room. He loves observing her, and the little things she does that only he seems to notice. He loves the way her hand feels against his when her palm is pressed against his, and he has to fight the urge to intertwine their fingers together. His eyes drift from their hands to her face again, lingering on her lips a little too long, and he thinks about how it would feel like to taste them; to have his lips against hers, to be kissing her. 

He blinks, reminding himself that she already has a boyfriend, that he cannot be in love with her, and he is pulled away from his thoughts when she clears her throat. He looks up to her, and he sees her put a strand of hair back behind her ear when she sits straighter, letting the cutting pliers fall between her crossed legs on his bed. He glances down at the silver chain on his wrist as she brings her right arm close to his, revealing the matching permanent bracelet on hers. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here today.” She says, her eyes flickering to his.

“Why are you here now?” Henry asks her, his voice barely a whisper.

He knows she’s picked up on the worry in his voice, because her eyes drift back to their wrists, and he can feel her tears falling on his skin as she looks down. 

“Did he hurt you?”

Henry doesn’t know why his voice comes out with a crack; perhaps because he is afraid of what her answer might be. He doesn’t know why he asked her either, but he wants to know. Because she is his best friend, and he cares about her. 

His blood freezes in his veins and his face pales when he sees her nod her head, more tears rolling down her cheeks as sobs leave her lips. His chest hurts as his heart constricts inside, and his breathing becomes shallow. He has to keep himself together because, as she falls apart in front of him, he knows she needs him. He shifts around on his mattress, opening his arms. Y/N takes refuge in them, wrapping her own around his midsection and she buries her face in his chest. He lets out a low sigh, feeling her tears through the fabric of his shirt, and he begins to draw circles on her back in a soothing way. He lays his head atop hers, his cheek pressed against the crown of her head as he gently rocks their bodies back and forth until her cries die down. She deserves so much better than her boyfriend, Henry thinks as he holds her close, wondering what else has been going on that he doesn’t know about.

Henry groans, running a hand over his face as he tries to forget that night, pushing the memory to the far back of his mind. The moon casts its light in his room through the window, and he can see it reflecting on the chain bracelet on his wrist. Four months. It had been four months since then, and Henry still couldn’t understand how Y/N went back to her boyfriend. She says it’s because she loves him, because he’ll never lay a hand on her again, but Henry has been observing her since that night. Because he worries about her, and because he loves her. He would notice the way she’d pull her sleeves down or wear scarves in class when she never wore one in her life before. He would take note of the makeup she wears, when she’d never been one to cover herself with makeup in the first place. He would see how she’d flinch when someone would accidentally hit a locker, or if a door was slammed too hard. He would catch sight of her trying to make herself small in the Man Cave whenever one of them would get angry and raise their voice. He knows that what she wants everyone to believe isn’t true because he sees her. And because he notices the little things no one else seems to pick up on. 

Henry turns on his back again, eyes up to the ceiling. Just as sleep is about to pull him in, he hears the familiar creaking noise of his window being lifted open. He sits up on his bed, back against the wall behind him as he searches for the lightswitch of the lamp on his bedside table. Henry blinks, adjusting his eyes to the dim light in his room. He runs a hand across his face as he looks up, a frown creasing lines on his forehead when he sees Y/N tumbling into his room through the window, falling onto his couch to her right. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of her, and he pulls the bedcovers away from his body as he makes his way to the loft area in his room, climbing the couple of stairs before sitting next to her on the couch, his body turned a little so that he can face her. She doesn’t look at him, but he sees the phone in her hand and he hears the soft sniffles that leave her. His arms find home around her shoulders as he pulls her in closer, and his heart flutters when she rests her head against his shoulder. Her phone falls onto her lap, and he can see the blocked symbol next to her boyfriend’s name on her screen. His chest heaves up as a sigh leaves him, and he mentally curses himself. He doesn’t know why he was expecting anything else, but it does not surprise him that she’s come to him. Again. 

It’s a repetitive circle, ever since she started dating Gareth, her boyfriend. He’d pull her away from her friends, then they’d have a fight, and Henry would be there to pick up the pieces when she’d come to him and break down in his arms. Days later, Y/N would run back to Gareth as if nothing happened, and Henry would be left with another piece of his heart gone with her. He knows it’s not right, that he should put distance between him and Y/N, but then his mind reminds him of how she’s always been there for him after he broke up with his first girlfriend, how she comforted him and helped him change his mind after Chloe and then Bianca left to do a television show in the woods. She’s always been there for him; it’s only right if he’s there for her. Even if his heart breaks a little more each time she walks away. Because even if she’ll never be his, he’ll always be hers.

Y/N is the one to pull away from him, using one hand to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, and her sniffles pull him out of his thoughts. Her eyes drift up to his, and she cracks a thin-lipped smile. Henry tilts his head, sighing. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N whispers, looking down when she hears him sigh. “I– I should have called…”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Henry tells her, taking her hand in his. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Y/N chuckles under her breath, looking down at their hands together. The warmth of his skin spreads through hers, and she feels her heart flutter in her chest. She clears her throat, pulling her hand away from his and she looks away from him. 

“He said he needed distance, and I had nowhere to go…” She whispers, scratching the back of her neck. 

Henry knows what she means; his parents are never really here for him, but hers are never there. They’re always traveling abroad for work, only showing up in Swellview twice a year; one time for her birthday, and a second time for Christmas. So Y/N always spends most of her time at work, at his house, or at her boyfriend’s place. 

Henry shakes his head and he scoots closer to her, pulling her hand in his own again. His eyes scan over her features, and a frown creases lines on his forehead when he notices a new bruise on her cheek, and the small cut on her upper lip. He grinds his teeth, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep his anger simmering beneath the surface. A low sigh leaves his lips instead, and he closes his eyes briefly. 

“You know you’re always welcome here.” He says eventually, looking at her. “Besides, I still have the clothes you forgot the last time you slept here.”

Y/N chuckles at that, and Henry swears it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. It’s been a while since he’s heard too; he can’t really remember when was the last time he did, but he knows he’s missed it. His heart flutters when she looks him in the eyes with a genuine smile on her lips, and it’s like the anger in him has never existed. His body relaxes, and he finds himself smiling at her.

“I’ll take the couch,” he tells her. “You can take my bed. Make yourself at home.”

Her smile widens. “Thank you Hen.”

She lifts her free hand, pressing her palm against his left cheek and she tilts her head, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his right one. Henry feels the heat rush to his cheeks as his breath gets caught up in his throat, and he watches as she gets down the couple stairs of the loft area in his room, heading for the bathroom in the hallway after taking her clothes from his closet like she owned the place. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. What is he doing?

When she returns after a few minutes, Henry notices that she has inadvertently taken a shirt of his out of the closet instead of hers. His breath hitches, and his eyes travel up and down her frame to fully take in the sight of her in his clothes. It’s just his shirt, he knows that, but because he’s always been taller than her, it looks like a dress that stops at her thighs when she wears it, and the short sleeves slide off of her shoulders a little. He can see the edge of her collarbone because she has tied her hair in a messy bun to the back of her head, and Henry blinks, his eyes drifting to anywhere but her. She already has a boyfriend, he tries to remind himself. But that selfish side of him thinks it’s not fair; that he should be the one who gets to see her like this every night. He should be the one who gets to take her out for dinner. He should be the one who gets to give her flowers for no particular reason. He should be the one who gets to tell her he loves her. Not that stupid boyfriend of hers; but him. 

Henry shakes his head, letting out a low, frustrated sigh. From the corner of his eyes he watches as Y/N slips under his bed covers, leaving her locked phone onto his nightstand before she glances his way with a soft smile curling her lips upwards and carving dimples in the curves of her cheeks.

“You’re gonna be okay?” Henry finds himself asking, settling himself onto his couch with a pillow behind his back.

“You’re giving me your bed for the night,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“N– no, I mean… about Gareth. Are you gonna be alright?”

She sighs, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “Y– yeah, I think. I mean, I miss him… but he needs space. I– I know he’s trying to be better, but we both needed some air tonight. I needed some air. And he needs the distance, even if only for tonight. But I miss him…”

Henry nods, only half-listening to what she’s saying. He doesn’t understand how she can think about going back to Gareth, when all he does is break her heart every time. He doesn’t understand how she stays with her boyfriend when he keeps hurting her, leaving bruises on her skin. And Henry can see the way her shoulders tense when she mentions Gareth, even without saying his name, and how she keeps fumbling with her fingers, picking at her nails. Y/N always does it when she’s anxious, Henry notices. He always notices the little things no one else seems to pick up on; because he cares. But he doesn’t say anything, because she is his best friend and he doesn’t want to lose her.

“Good night, Hen.” Y/N whispers, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He licks his lips and glances towards her. “G’night Y/N.”

As she turns off the lights in his room, Henry takes one last glance at the clock on his bedside table. 2:05 in the morning. Now he’ll definitely fall asleep in class.

—

The last time Henry spoke to Y/N was two weeks earlier, when she’d showed up into his room in the middle of the night after another fight with her boyfriend. He hadn’t talked to her since, and he’d only seen her at school. She’s stopped coming to work as well, but when he tried talking to her at school, she’d look down on the ground and avoid conversation at all cost. She was ignoring him and Henry was pretty sure her boyfriend was the one making her do it.

“Alright Kid.” Ray’s voice catches Henry’s attention. “You’ve been sulking for the last two weeks. What’s going on?”

“It’s Y/N.” Charlotte says bluntly, and Henry glares at her.

“Oh come on, Char!”

“What?” She crosses her arms, holding his gaze. “You’ve been in a mood since Y/N began ignoring you. And, she stopped coming to work.”

“Oh, so you think it’s my fault she’s not coming to work?”

“I didn’t say I did.” Charlotte shrugs.

“What happened with Y/N?” Ray asks before Henry could reply to Charlotte. 

“I don’t know.” Henry sighs, running a hand over his face. “She hasn’t talked to me in two weeks. She’s been avoiding me.”

“Did you do something wrong?”

“Wh– what? No! She came to my place because she’d gotten into a fight with her boyfr–”

Henry stops himself, eyes widening slightly when realization dwells upon him. Of course. He should have known; he should have figured it out sooner. Now that he thinks about it, she hadn’t returned that shirt of his she accidentally borrowed when she came by, and he swears she had been wearing it the next day. At school, where her boyfriend was. Henry groans, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“Stupid Gareth…” Henry mutters under his breath.

Charlotte frowns, having caught on. “What about Gareth?”

“He’s a fucking asshole, that’s what he is.”

“Who’s Gareth?” Ray asks, frowning.

Charlotte begins to answer, but she barely gets a word out as the emergency alarm begins to echo across the Man Cave. Henry jumps on his feet, walking over to the supercomputer. An emergency is what he needs to keep his mind off of everything else. He presses one of the larger buttons on the control panel, his muscle memory guiding his movements. After five years of working as Captain Man’s sidekick, you do pick up on a few things around here. The Man Cave sort of became his second home. 

“Captain Man’s emergency line, how may we punch your problem?”

Henry speaks up, taking sight of Charlotte sitting on the chair to his right with her hands roaming over the control panel to try and pinpoint the location of the call, and he feels Ray standing behind him, probably with his hands on his hips as he looks to the screen. 

Henry frowns when no one answers, but he can hear them breathing through the phone line. It’s ragged, coming out in hiccups, and faintly in the distance he can discern the sound of objects clattering onto the ground. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, frowning.

“This is Kid Danger speaking, how may I help you?” He tries again, worriedly glancing at Charlotte.

He doesn’t want to say anything, but his heart leaps in his chest, his heartbeat quickening with every second that passes by. He still doesn’t know where the phone call comes from, but judging by the person’s silence his mind plays him all the worst scenarios he can imagine. Y/N still occupies the corner of his mind, and this phone call is one that is way too familiar for Henry’s liking. A week after his birthday, she’d given him a call, and the beginning had been just like this one.

“Oh, shit… Henry?”

He hears Charlotte whisper next to him, and he turns to look at her when she nudges his side. She points a finger at one of the five monitors of the supercomputer, and Henry follows her finger to the green letters displayed on the screen. He squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. He takes a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. Y/N’s home address is blinking in green letters on one of the computer’s monitors, and Henry feels a shiver down his spine. Why did he have to be right about this?

“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out, ignoring Ray’s confused look. “I– I’m right here, okay? I’m still on the phone with you. Can you– can you leave the house?”

His stomach drops when he hears her whimper through the phone, and he clenches his fists at his sides. Chills run down his spine when he hears more clattering on the other side of the line, followed by Y/N’s quiet sobs. Then he hears footsteps, and something like a window being open and a soft thud as if someone had fallen on the ground. He swallows back the lump in his throat, his heartbeat quickening beneath his chest. There’s a hand on his shoulder, Henry can feel it and when he glances to his left, Ray is there with a worried look in his eyes. He may not show it in the right way because he acts like a man-child more often than not, but Henry knows Ray cares for the kids he works with, including Y/N. 

“I– I’m… out…”

Y/N’s voice brings Henry back to look helplessly at the screens. Through the phone, he can hear she’s panting, her footsteps clacking against the ground. She’s running, he tells himself. He lets out a relieved sigh; at least she’s getting away from her boyfriend. 

“Can you make it to Junk’N’Stuff?” He asks her, worried. “Or do you need me to pick you up somewhere?”

“I can– Junk’N’Stuff– is fine…”

“O– okay, I’ll– I’ll go up to the store and wait for you, alright? And Ray and Charlotte are gonna stay on the phone with you, okay?”

She doesn’t answer him, but he knows she’s heard him. Ray clasps his shoulder, and Henry takes it as his queue to leave the Man Cave. He knows Jasper has closed the junk store around half an hour earlier, so no one is up there. Henry prefers it that way, because then he’ll have the time alone with Y/N. No one but him actually knows just how bad it’s gotten between her and Gareth, because she always hid her bruises with makeup and for some reason, not even Charlotte had noticed. And his brain keeps picturing the worst-case scenarios, making his heart beat faster as he steps inside the elevator and presses on the store’s up button. 

When he’s up in the store, he waits by the front door, eyes darting to the outdoors for any sign of her until he sees her, catching her breath as she leans under a lamppost. He opens the door, and he sees her lift her head when she hears the bells jingling. He notices the look of relief on her face when she spots him, hanging up her phone and shoving it in the back pocket of her pants before she rushes toward him. She stumbles on her feet, exhausted, but Henry is there to catch her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her on her feet. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Henry mutters in a reassuring way as he leads her inside.

He can hear her muffled cries against his chest as he closes the shop’s front door with the heel of his foot, and her body trembles in his arms.

“I’m right here.” He whispers as he moves his hands to hold the sides of her face. “You’re safe now; he can’t hurt you.”

At first he can’t see her features, but when he brushes her hair away from her face that’s when he spots her busted lip, and the darkening bruise around her left eye. There is a large bleeding cut across her right eyebrow arch, and a few smaller ones all over the right side of her face, as if something sharp had been thrown in her face. Her cheeks are reddened by the tears that escape her eyes, her lips trembling with every sharp breath she takes. 

Henry’s face pales when he takes in the sight of her, his heart dropping. He knows that no matter what he says, or does, she will run back to her boyfriend after a day or two. Like she always does. But the selfish side of him knows that he cannot let her go back to Gareth; he cannot risk her being hurt again. Yesterday it was a few bruises, tonight it’s a few cuts and a black eye, but tomorrow? Tomorrow still isn’t set in stone, but he can’t let her risk her life again; no matter how much she claims to love her boyfriend. 

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he sneaks an arm under her kneecaps and the other around her shoulder blades, picking her up bridal style. He feels her wrap her arms around his shoulders for support, and he feels her bury her face in the crook of his neck. He makes his way around the shop with her in his arms, going towards the elevator in the back shop. With agility, he steps inside the elevator and presses down onto the Man Cave button. He can feel her slow breath against his skin; it sends shivers down his spine, and when he looks down at her, he sees she’s somehow fallen asleep in his arms. He smiles a little, sighing when the elevator dings open, and he sees Ray and Charlotte sitting on the round couch in the middle of the Man Cave, with worried looks on their faces. He shakes his head when they glance up to him, and he dips his chin toward Y/N. Charlotte nods in understanding, but Ray frowns, taking note of the dried blood he spots on the girl’s shirt. 

Henry ignores Ray’s questioning gaze as he makes his way to the sprocket, disappearing in the hallway that leads to the few bedrooms the Man Cave has to offer. He walks past the one with a big “DO NOT ENTER” sign hung on the door, well-aware that it is Ray’s room and he will not make the mistake of stepping inside a second time. Then, there is Schwoz’s guest bedroom, and the one his sister Winnie uses when she comes to visit. Henry keeps on walking until he makes it to the end of the hallway, using his foot to push open the door to the last guest bedroom.  

Y/N stirs up in his arms just as he puts her down on the mattress, and he sits beside her, smiling when she opens her eyes. The blood on her face is now dry and sticks to her skin, and Henry frowns, standing up without a word to look for a first-aid kit in one of the drawers in the room’s closet. When he returns to the bed with the red case in his hand, Y/N is sitting up on the mattress, leaning against the backrest behind her, and she watches as he pulls out some cotton pads and the antiseptic spray from the kit. 

“It might sting a little.” Henry whispers as he brings a cotton to her face.

She nods, allowing him to clean the cuts on her cheeks and across her eyebrow arch, wincing in pain and gritting her teeth. But she keeps her eyes on her best friend, watching as his wrinkled brows carve a line on his forehead, and how his nose scrunches up whenever she lets out a wince. She sees the worry in his chocolate irises when he leans back, his eyes drifting across her features to make sure he’s cleaned every bit of dried blood off of her face.

“Thank you.” She whispers, reaching for his hand. 

“You can’t keep going back to him, Y/N.” Henry blurts out all of the sudden, pulling his hand away from hers.

Y/N frowns. “He’s my boyfriend, Hen. And I love him.”

“I know you do, I just– I’m not sure he loves you, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seriously, Y/N?”

Henry’s frowns deepens as he stands up, and Y/N’s smile falters, her lips pressed into a thin line as she watches him pace back and forth in front of her, frustratedly tugging at his hair. She shakes her head, heaving out a sigh. Henry stops pacing, hands on his hips as he turns to her.

“Do you know how hard it is?” He begins, scowling. “To be the one to fix you, wh– when all you do is run back to the one who breaks your heart?” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been with him for six months, and every time something happens between the two of you, who do you run to? Me! I’m always here to pick up the pieces of your broken heart, and every fucking time you go back to that piece of shit as if nothing happened! I know we’re best friends Y/N, and I know you’ve always been there for me when I had girl problems but, fuck, you’re making this too hard…” He inhales sharply, running a hand over his face.

Henry doesn’t dare to look at her, at first, and he isn’t sure that he wants to. He probably has ruined their friendship but at this point, he doesn’t care. He needed to tell her everything; he needed to tell her how he feels about her, and damn the consequences.

“I can’t keep on pretending that this isn’t hurting me, too.” He sighs, resuming his pacing. “I can’t keep on pretending that watching you getting hurt by the man who claims to love you doesn’t break my heart every fucking time, because it does. It does break my heart to see you hurt.” He stops pacing then, finally looking at her. “I can’t stand to see you getting hurt by him every single time, and I can’t keep on having my heart broken every time you run back to him. So if you want to go back to him, I’m not holding you back, but I won’t be there to pick up the pieces when he breaks your heart again.”

His eyes sting as he blinks back the tears in his tear ducts. He won’t let her see him cry. He inhales sharply, his gaze drifting away to look anywhere but her. The silence in the room is suffocating, and Henry feels his chest tightens with each passing second. He’s too afraid to move, his feet anchored to the ground, and he’s scared of what she might say. He hears her shift on the mattress, wincing a little when she moves around, and then he can feel her standing close to him. Y/N brings one hand up, and he feels the warmth of her palm against his skin, her touch soft on his right cheek. With a soft pressure, she turns his face to hers, and Henry is forced to look at her. Her gentle smile lightens her features, reaching her glossy and bright eyes. Her head is slightly tilted to the side as her eyes roam over his features, her thumb delicately brushing over his flushed cheekbone. 

“I can’t keep on being hurt by you, Y/N…” Henry whispers, his voice wavering as he takes a sharp breath.

“I don’t want to be the one hurting you, Hen.” Her voice is soft when she speaks up, and a single tear runs down her cheek. “And I am sorry for ever hurting you. I just–”

“I know…” Henry sighs, defeated. “You’re in love with him.”

“It’s not– it’s not that simple…” Y/N sighs. “I can’t– I can’t just leave him.”

She drops her hand back to her side, sitting back on the mattress’ edge, and she begins to anxiously fiddle with her fingers in her lap. Henry frowns when he no longer feels her touch, and he sits next to her. His hands find hers, and he takes them in his to stop her from torturing her fingers. 

“You don’t– you don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He tells her, his tone gentle. “If you want to leave him, I’m right here with you, I promise.”

“I– I’m scared of what he’ll do if– if I leave him…”

“Y/N…” He lets go of her hands to hold her face in his, making her look his way. “You know he’s not right for you. He keeps hurting you, physically. Emotionally too, I bet, because it’s the first time in two weeks that we’re talking. You deserve so much better than that piece of shit.” He smiles when she laughs at that. “You deserve a gentleman that will treat you right, take you out for dinner and give you flowers for no specific reason. I’ve known you my whole life Y/N; you’re one of a kind, and you deserve someone who’ll love you with all their heart. Not someone like Gareth…”

“But, someone… like you?”

Henry falls silent next to her, because as much as he loves her, he didn’t think she’d catch on to what he was trying to tell her. Does he want her to be his girlfriend? Yes. Does he want to be her boyfriend? Also, yes. But he knows the things she’s been through with Gareth, and as much as he loves her, he’s smart enough to know that if she leaves her boyfriend, she will need time to heal from that relationship. He’s willing to wait; for her, he’d wait a lifetime, because he wants nothing more than to see her happy.

“One day. Maybe.” He whispers, brushing his thumb over the cuts on her cheek. “But you’re not alone, Y/N. You have me. And Charlotte, and Jasper. Even Piper, or Ray and Schwoz. I know you, and I know you have the strength to leave him, even if you think you can’t. You’re the strongest person I know, and you deserve to be happy.”

“Okay.” She breathes out, smiling.

“O– okay?”

She hums softly, chuckling when he lets out a relieved sigh. Maybe he was right to tell her how he felt. Maybe he was right to tell her what he thought of her relationship with her boyfriend. Because maybe, just maybe, it opened the possibility of something more. Because maybe, just maybe, one day he would get to call her his.

ⓒ writerinlearning – 2025

[pigaletta]

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[nebuladreamz]

The voices are loud and I am WEAK