#Nightmare loves his boys but by god they are rowdy

[somegrumpynerd]

Killer and Cross getting caught fighting

Adhsgjsdjefjey I’m sorry it took me so long to answer but I really really wanted to try and draw this

Nightmare doesn’t even bother telling them to stop he’s just like “Horror and I are getting supplies, everyone is to be alive when we get back or else”

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Must be this tall to Hunt| Boba Fett (tcw age so like 13/14)

Couldnt find a good teen boba gif, so heres bosk instead

Warnings: fake blame,

Reader: female

"You are expelled from the order-"

"What!?" Y/n shouted looking up at the council, "I did nothing! Master Plo! Reason with them!"

"I am sorry little one, I-"

Y/n was heart broken, looking up at the surrounding Jedi, this couldn't be true.

"Master Obi-Wan!" Y/n pleaded.

"Your attachments grow," Windu spoke, "and with them your anger."

"My anger?! My anger?!" Y/n shouted at him.

"Little one please." Plo pleaded, "I have brought a witness."

"You!?" Y/n argued, "Master I demand an answer! Why! Why would you- You out of all People!-"

She watched Anakin walk in guilt ridden on his face, "You!? Anakin! You!?"

He kept quiet as Fives walked in, her world stopping.

"Y-Your lieing!" She shouted, "Fives?! Not you! I trust you and you do this!?"

"Arc Trooper Fives." Windu spoke, " what have you seen Padawan Y/n do?"

Fives looked at her, "I. Saw Genral Y/n with a clone trooper,"

"Im with troopers everyday!" Y/n defended.

"What was Padawan Y/n doing with this clone trooper."

"...intercourse sir." Fives responded.

"Thats Obsurded Fives! And you know it!" Y/n argued, "You're my brothers- Why in gods name would I fuck any of you!"

"Y/n! That is enough!" Plo argued.

"You believe this crap!? You're suppose to have MY back!" Y/n demanded, "I'd have your back no matter what! And you turn on me!"

"Are there any other witnesses?" Fisto spoke.

"Yes." Windu spoke, "bring them in."

Y/n watched, her brothers, the wolf pack, Commandos and even some from the Corosaunt Gaurd walk in, and they strung there string of lies and they strung them high and low, entagled the lies beyond untanglement.

"Padawan L/n is to be expelled from the Order and that is our final verdict."

The platform she was on went downward, the clone troopers who had made there testimonies were gathered at the bottom, a path for her to go through.

"Y/n-" Wolfee spoke reaching out a hand.

"Don't you dare touch me!" She shouted in anger pushing past the clones.

"It had to be done." Commander Thron spoke quietly.

The others nodded.

"Damn it!" Fives shouted running out the room and rushing down the halls, after the light echoing of Y/n's angered footsteps.

She pushed the doors open and just walking out them she stopped, hearing Five's steps behind her.

"General. It had to be done-"

"What!? The lies! The string of lies you built! Why!? Why would you do this to me?!" Y/n argued looking back at the clone.

"We wanted to protect you-"

"Bullshit Fives! Bullshit! I love all of you! All of you!" Y/n shouted, screaming so loud it was sure to be heard all the way down to the lower level.

"Y/n listen!-' he grabbed her shoulders trying to plead with her but she pushed him away ingiting one side of her double sided saber as Fives quickly backed up.

"Touch me again and I'll kill you." She spoke.

"I don't even deserve death. I know- I-" Fives tried to explained, "We wanted to protect you-"

"Then you should of had my back!"

The bright blade turned off and she turned around leaving without a second thought.

"Hey! Wake up!" Boba argued.

Y/n turned her self around as she opened her eyes, "what do you want Fett."

"Rations idiot." He spoke as Y/n sat up, the girl only a year older than Bobba.

She was thrown a rations bar by the boy as they were in a hotel room, she had been sleeping on the couch.

"How much longer we waitin?" She asked taking a crunch out of the bar.

"An hour, I told you that the how much longer last time you woke up." He argued looking through the window.

Y/n kept quiet as she ate her food, it bland and bleak in both tast and color.

Bobba took an arm chair by the window as he ate his own rations. It was silent for a long mintue.

"Did. You have that nightmare again?" He asked.

Y/n looked over at him, "when do I not?"

Boba ate a peice of his own ration bar, he never knew what the nightmare was about, but knew it was the same one, on repeat.

He had the same.

"You, uh. Wanna talk about it?"

She looked his way, then looked away quickly, only able to see the faces of her brothers.

"No." She replied coldy tossing the barely eaten ration bar on the table, her appetite gone, "I'm gonna go scope the roof, don't wait up for me."

She walked towards the door, grabbing the sniper on the way out.

"I'll come with you. Incase someone tries to get you from behind."

"I don't need someone to have my back." Y/n argued.

"Well then Im coming because I want to!"

He pushed past Y/n as she scoffed, following him close behind as they walked towards the steps, somewhere along the way Y/n hacked into a vending Machine, Boba going up the stairs himself, stealing whatever she pleased putting it in her sling bag, enough for her only.

"Sharing is what?" Y/n questioned Woflee

"An opportunity for someoen to get there arm chopped off, it's my food." Wolfee told her.

Y/n sighed, how she hated her own little life lessons to her brothers, and stole more food, enough for both Boba and her, and a little extra.

Walking up the rest of the steps she made it to the door she kicked open with the bottom of her foot.

"Could you try and be quiet?" He seethed.

"I mean. I could. But no." Y/n responded walking towards the edge where Boba sat on a near by utiliy unit.

She sat down setting her back infront of her as she laid herself on her side her back to Boba the lights of the bright city below barely reaching the top of the tall hotel they sat on.

"You want one?"

Boba looked over seeing Y/n holding up a soda.

"Where did you get that?"

"Stole it."

Rolling his eyes he walked over to her snatching the bottle and sitting himself by her head.

"Hey hey. Fives calm your tits." Y/n laughed.

Boba stayed silent as he looked at her, she too busy looking out and onward, but feeling the stare she looked besides her.

"Oh." Y/n realized, "My bad Fett."

Boba stayed silent, as Y/n took a drink of her own soda, he had realized she had become more sympathetic with her apology.

"You wanna talk about it now?" Boba questioned.

Y/n sighed, answering in silence for a mintue, "My only family betrayed me. Strung a String of lies to supposedly keep me safe. I think about it all the time. We use to find these abaonded places and sit up on the roofs like this, we'd sing, start a bonfire, get drunk."

"Your as old as me." Fett argued.

Y/n shrugged, "war does that, you only live once Fett."

"Then why are you still worrying about it?" Boba defended.

"Why do you still worry about the things you worry about?" Y/n questioned, "but I was kicked out of my group, my name stripped of me, and instead of having my back, they had me cast out. Happy Now?"

It was silent again, the hearing of honking and swearving down below could be heard.

"I lost my dad to the Jedi."

Y/n stopped mid way lifting her drink to her lips but then contuined to drink then pull away.

"They tend to do that..." Y/n responded, "they expect you to follow every rule every word, there no better than the sith."

"You know alot of jedi and sith."

Y/n looked at him once, "It was when you father died did I stop really believing in the Jedi-"

"You knew my father?! You're a jedi-"

"Shut your trap and listen before you get rowdy you damn idiot!' Y/n argued Boba gritting his teeth, "I met Jango Fett when I went on a small assignment, my first one, with Master Shakk Ti- it was basically playing paper boy. I remember delivering work to your father...alot of people were mean to me, he. He never was, always said thank you, always asked me if I had eaten. He even watched me leave on the ship back to Master Plo Koon. So when I went througy reports and found him dead I was in shock, later to find out a Jedi did it. I started to loose faith. Why kill a man lookin out for him and his child, sure capture him- but taking family...I know how that feels and no one should go through it."

Y/n took a drink finishing her bottle and tossing it over edge, "so. I fought. And I fought and I fought. If i couldnt save Jango, I'd save what was left of him- the clones- my brothers. They share the same face but are diffrent than any could imagine. I spoke, I wrote, I pleaded, I trainned. It never was enough, and it was my 'emotion' that got the better of me. Pssh. Yeah right the Jedi can piss off because if they want to see emotion? I'll give it to them."

Boba listened, he had nevee seen Y/n before hand, maybe he had and just didnt remember, he never knew someone could share his pain. Neverless with the same person.

"Windu will pay." Boba seethed, "and your a jedi! You can help me."

"I will go head to head to him, I don't plant bombs." Y/n defended.

"We can take him! Two on one!" Boba tried to persuade, "you know his fighting style! I know guns! You know sabers! We take his head and anyone else that stands in our way!"

Y/n looked at him dully.

"Come on! How many bounty hunters have you single handedly taken on! And killed! How many sith have you injured! Jedi that chase after us! Without your laser swords! We can kill him! Together!" Boba explained standing up, Y/n move to sit up, "We're the left behind! We are the strongest! Because we were left behind! We round up a few others! Bane! Sing! Bosk! And there's always someone paying for a Jedi's head!"

Y/n stood up grabbing hee sniper rifle as she did and looked at her watch.

"It can be a sniper shot! A saber battle! Whatever you want! As long as he die and Im involed I don't care how!" Bobba argued.

Y/n looked down below aiming her sniper adjusting the scope.

"My father would do the same for you-"

He was cut off by a bullet shot and soon the sounds of crying folks who see a man just drop dead on the street, the target they had been waiting for dead. She pulled away from her weapon slowly, turning her head towards him.

"I'll do it.-" Y/n agreed

"No." Boba spoke, "We'll do it. Together. For everything the jedi took from us!"

Y/n looked at the outreached hand as she took it.

"Together."

"As One Unit."

"As One Unit." Y/n responded, "well one and a half"

"Im not that short." Boba argued.

"Shorter than me." Y/n chuckled.

[one-winged-dreams]

Yo, I’m Adri, I’m 27 and I never learned how to fucking read.

I’m a demi/queer dude (he/him), and I just really like rowdy boys who like to fight (with the occasional divergence).

Here is my pronouns page.

The actual love of my life is King Varian Wrynn from World of Warcraft. He is my forever Main and my most important F/O, so I tend to prioritize him the most.

Also I’m in a long term relationship with the OTHER actual love of my life, @moon-and-stars-selfship​

I’m mentally ill (bipolar disorder, GAD, ect) and disabled (fibromyalgia, chronic pain, chronic fatigue, ect), so sometimes I run out of spoons really quickly and kind of shut up for a while. I’m totally cool with sharing f/os, and I’m more than happy to talk to people who are into the same source materials. Tbh I’m also more than happy to talk to people who’s source material I know jack shit about.

Anyway, here’s a list of my romantic f/os

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann

Viral [kiss me you animal]

BNHA

Kendo Rappa [all this violence makes a statement]

Rikiya Katsukame

Shouta Aizawa [but not as much as i do]

Kingdom Hearts

Xigbar/Braig [take out the gunman]

Bleach

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez [wild heart]

Kensei Muguruma [blow me away]

Shuhei Hisagi [tell me you’d like boys like me better]

Mass Effect

Kal'Reegar [cosmic kiss]

[Prototype]

Alex Mercer [infect me with your love]

Funamusea

Idate [you’re awful i love you]

Elder Scrolls

Odahviing

Sotha Sil [your god knows his faithful]

Neramo

Falaandial Athious [love me dead]

Lucien Lachance [killing me softly]

Transformers

Shockwave

[you’re appealing to emotions that i simply do not have]

Soundwave [rhythm of my life]

Skywarp

Sky Lynx

Fallout

Nick Valentine [valentine be mine]

Fire Force

Karim Flam [melting in your eyes]

Akitaru Obi [burning for you]

Charon [burn it down]

Soul Eater

Mifune [you’ll never be alone again]

Giriko

Pokemon

Grimsley

The Seven Deadly Sins

Ban [i want you for a lifetime]

Neopets

Kass

Tokyo Ghoul

Naki [love me mercilessly]

One Piece

Roronoa Zoro [if you are the shores i am the waves]

Smoker [worse than nicotine]

Eustass Kid [bring home the boys and scrap metal]

Killer [love is a weapon]

(pending) Charlotte Katakuri

King

Final Fantasy

Azul [kiss of a beast]

(pending) Barret Wallace

Naruto

Kakuzu

FLCL

Canti [electroheart]

Mega Man

Teisel Bonne

Lobotomy Corporation

Netzach [the angel from my nightmare]

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary

Friday the 13th

Jason Voorhees [baby’s got a thirst for blood]

Dead By Daylight

Evan MacMillan [fear and delight]

Burn The Witch

Bruno Bangnyfe [i see magic in your eyes]

World of Warcraft

Varian Wrynn [king and lionheart]

Khadgar [make just like a comet tail]

Kargath Bladefist

Rinling

Lor'themar Theron

Adrestes

Blood of Zeus

Apollo

Ares

Hellsing

Alucard [unheavenly creatures]

Digimon

Beelzemon [digital love]

Wargreymon

Mob Psycho 100

Megumu Koyama

Ryo Shimazaki

Fullmetal Alchemist

Solf J. Kimblee

Frank Archer

MCU

Heimdall

League of Legends

Thresh [paid for traded and sold]

Pyke [rolling down in the deep]

No Guns Life

Juzo Inui

Venom

Eddie Brock

Venom

Final Fantasy XIV

(pending) Urianger Augurelt [written in the stars]

Void Verse

Howl [angel wings to dust]

Samael [in love with my own sins]

[ithebookhoarder]

I've been seeing those 'favorite ship dynamics' posts and I read one that said "the ones who are so casual and comfortable able around one another that nobody realizes they're dating" and I thought of the Shelby's being shocked after realizing Tommy's been in a relationship for a while with quiet, sweet secretary (who perhaps isn't as sweet as they all thought 🧐). They just look like they wouldn't have noticed each other or been the other's type, but they actually have cute moments and everyone ships it. I don't know if that made sense & also sorry I wrote a lot loolll. Obviously it's your choice if you wanna write it! You can ignore me if you don't SKSKSKSK

Head-canons: One of the Family (Tommy Shelby x Secretary!Reader) 

A/N: It made a lot of sense, and honestly? I love the idea of just comfortable, happy, Tommy. This made me so happy so I apologise for any mistakes. I was writing it in a rush between coursework as I just couldn't wait. I hope you like it x

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, implied smut. Let me know if I missed anything.

Masterlist:

------

You and Tommy have been friends forever, which means you’ve also been an honorary Shelby for as long as anyone could remember. Sure, you were definitely closest to Tommy, but the Shelby boys considered you as one of their own, treating you as they would Ada. 

This was both a great thing and also a nightmare depending on their mood. For example, they clearly love you. It’s obvious from how they tease you, making you laugh so hard with their jokes you fall off your chair. It’s also obvious in the way they practically expect you to be at their dinner table every night, making up a plate for you without a second thought. They’re also the first to comfort you when you were sad, and threaten anyone who wished you harm. 

Which brings us on to the negatives of being an honorary Shelby: primarily, the fact the boys are so protective it’s almost suffocating. If anyone gets rowdy or handsy at work or when you’re out for drinks, they’re the first to remove their caps.

“Down boys! I mean it - Arthur Shelby put your fucking cap back on!” 

It’s no wonder you’ve only ever been on one or two dates, and they’d been disasters.

You’re still angry whenever John brings up the way he’d threatened to castrate Samuel Riley after catching him dancing with you at one of the clubs. It had taken you weeks to work up the nerve to let him take you out and you’d even brought a new dress and everything. 

“You’re too good for him, Y/N and you know it.”

“John Shelby!” 

“John’s right, Y/N. Ain’t no scrawny bastard like that Riley kid going to get his hands on you, eh?” 

“Arthur! You’re making it worse.”

The only reason you’d let that whole affair go was that it was also the night that Tommy had finally taken you aside and confessed his feelings for you, after apologising for the way his brothers had treated the whole affair. 

“It’s my fault. I heard you talking with Ada about it and got jealous and let it slip, ok? I knew they’d help me make sure you and Sam didn’t… you know…”

“Oh, Tommy. You adorable asshole.”

Since that night the two of you had started seeing one another, even though neither of you had ever brought it up around the others. Part of you had assumed they’d already known, given how close you and Tommy were. 

I mean, you worked as his secretary, for god’s sake. You had ever since you’d been old enough to work and needed the money to support your elderly parents. 

The result of this arrangement meant you two spent every waking minute together in a routine that was as seamless as it was ordinary. 

He took your coat from you when you came through the door and you’d light his cigarette as soon as he had it between his lips. 

He pulled out chairs for you and you would ensure there were freshly baked goods on his desk every Friday as a treat for surviving the week.

He also knew exactly how you liked your tea and always seemed to know when you needed a cup. 

He also always seemed frustrated by your insistence to fetch him tea, despite that literally being your job. 

“I can do it. I’m not a blood invalid. You’re busy with those calls, it’s the least I can do.” 

“Sir, yes, sir.”

He always laughs without fail when you call him sir. He knows you do it to wind him up, and boy does it work. Especially when he notices you refuse to call the other Shelby brothers ‘sir’. 

If ‘accidentally’ lets his hand graze you as you walk past and looks like he’s seconds away from dragging you off upstairs, then it’s merely a coincidence. (You mentally note to call him sir more often)

Tommy also makes a point of staying late after work some nights, despite the others insisting he join them at the Garrison. The fact he insists he needs you to stay and help as well is merely expected. No one even blinks twice at the idea of you two alone in the offices together. After all, you’re practically siblings… right? 

All of this is probably why it took nearly a year for the others to truly realise what was going on between you. 

It was your fault. 

You’d been so busy hurrying about the place one morning, that you hadn’t remembered that the others were in the room with you as you stole a quick kiss off of Tommy - as was your habit. However you normally waited till you two were alone to wish each other a good morning. 

The second your lips touched his though, you felt him tense and knew why. 

“What the fuck? Where’s my kiss?” John choked, grinning like a smug bastard. It was only when Polly slapped him around the head he realised it wasn’t some new ritual but reserved only for you and Tommy. 

“Wait… are you two… NO!”

“She’s our sister, Tom!”

The outrage on the boys faces is enough to make you laugh even if you’re also burning with embarrassment. You could tell it physically hurt for them to imagine you as anything other than innocent, let alone with their brother of all people. 

Polly and Ada, though, just look thrilled by this development. 

“I fucking knew it! Ada, pay up.”

“Polly…”

“Come on, thank you. I told you no one looks at each other that way unless they’re head over heels in love.”

Tommy wasn’t thrilled to learn his family had been placing bets about you two, which was odd considering what his family did for a living. 

“Right, we’re leaving. No one says a word, got it?”

“Tommy,” you scolded, sniggering as he took your hand and tugged you out of the room and away from the pandemonium you’d unleashed. 

It was safe to say there would be an inquisition when you both got home, and you weren’t disappointed. Not when it ended with everyone hugging you, welcoming you ‘officially’ to their family. 

It also ended with Arthur and John warning Tommy that - brother or not - if he hurt you they wouldn’t even hesitate to kill him and side with you. Tommy was rather ok with that.

“I’d never hurt her. I love her, so fuck off, both of you, eh?” 

“You better.”

Hearing those words is enough to make you grab him by his jacket and kiss him all over again, whispering “I love you too” as you pulled away. “I really do.” 

[nicknellie]

@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

*

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

*

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

*

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

[toukenramblings]

Immortal Saniwa | Heshikiri Hasebe, Shokudaikiri Mitsutada, Yamatonokami Yasusada

Anon asked: may i have some hcs with hasebe, shoku, and yamatonokami with a technically-immortal saniwa who's cursed to life after a run in with an angry spirit? if they do the thing the spirit wants to, they'll die, but they've watched their family and friends die in front of them... so it's kinda up to them, now that they have a basically-immortal family of item spirits at their side. if this prompt is to depressing, feel free to skip it- no pressure :)

Nonnie, galaxy brain. I love you.

Warning: Mentions of death, sad sword bois, pretty short idk man im bad at this, nothing but angst, maybe hurt-comfort >:) @rexcaliburechoes​

Do allow me to set the stage, dear Saniwas.

Ah, pity thee, who is alive and alone for oh so long. Friends and family gone, aging and you never did. You held their hand as they passed, felt their pulses and hearts give out, watch as the light leaves their eyes and their spirits pass on.

How cruel it was for that spirit to curse you like this, know the pain of living on as the people you love pass. Tears gone, you had none left. Your heart almost hiding away.

Alone, and alone again. Why else did you sign up to become a saniwa. To isolate yourself away from the changing world, the mortal realm that only causes nothing but pain and sorrow. You were the first to sign up, you knew the citadel is a safe haven. Perhaps you could die this way? Throwing yourself into a fight that may seem endless? None of the less, you had a duty to do. a world to protect.

You didn’t want to make bonds, the government didn’t want you to. These are tools after all. But you are a kind soul and these men are just...wormed their damn way into your heart, unfreezing it, bringing it back to life, a garden growing in that once barren field.

And then that person showed up in your life.

Heshikiri Hasebe

He’s always had an inkling that you were...not normal. If you had gotten hurt, even if it was something minor, your wound would heal oh so rapidly. Of course, Hasebe would worry about your safety none the less but he cannot help but figure out that something is oh so terribly wrong with you. He won’t pry into your life but he will always tell you that if you want a shoulder to cry on, he is there.

Because it is because he is a tsukumogami and not human as well, he can pick up on the subtle..impurities around you. A curse. He could have Ishikirimaru purify it but it almost seems to hang around you, ingrained into your blood, weaving into your veins and tying itself to your soul. Somewhat similar to Nikkari’s aura but different all the same. They know that if they purify you, you’ll drop dead.

And then Hasebe’s feelings happen.

The fear he sees in your eyes when he confesses to you almost makes him want to shrivel away and die. He wants to take it back, run away and hide, but you almost do the same. You ask for time to think about this, and Hasebe will wait until the end of the world for you DAMN IT.

You two confess and of course you tell him about you being...pretty much immortal and Hasebe takes it surprisingly well. You are his master after all, he would say as he presses a kiss to the tip of your forehead. “It only means that we can stay together longer now, and I will forever be by your side.” it’s almost an oath at this point.

Every day you two have together is nothing short of bliss. Calm, comforting, drinking in every moment you two have. Hasebe has sworn not to die, to come back from missions and back to you. He will never perish, or let anyone else die when he is on a mission. He knows that you cannot handle such a thing, no damn way is he going to let it happen.

Oh sweet sweet Hasebe knows that he is a tool, and by the end of this long war that has span for far too long. He knows that by the end of this the government will be at your door, banging on the walls and demanding you to return the swords to the government where they belonged. He refuses to leave though. His home is at your side, come hell or high water. He will fight to the end of his breath to always be with you.

Hasebe will always be there if you want to talk, if you begin to cry, oh so gently will he wrap you up in his arms, shushing you and pressing sweetest of kisses to your head.

Those times when you have nightmares break his heart, he would rather face three thousand ootachis than to see you cry.

“I...do not know if you see it like this, beloved. But, I adore you, and as do the rest of the citadel. Please, if you allow us, will you allow us to be your new family?”

Shokudaikiri Mitsutada

Compared to Hasebe’s tiptoeing around the subject of your immortality, Micchan will kinda do the same? He will notice that you are so much more different and he knows that you are hiding something. He knows that feeling oh too well, look at himself and his scars and his eye. Gods know he is ashamed of those burns of his. He won’t push you to tell him anything and of course he will wait for you to come to him. Gods forgive anything that makes you push away from him. Of course he will give you treats, a bribe maybe? No, he just wants to let you know that he is there.

When you tell him that you are an immortal, Shokudaikiri’s first instinct is to hug you. He knows how it is to be oh so lonely and lost, seeing the lives of people disappear under the blink of an eye. The earthquake took many lives, and he knows that feeling of loneliness well. “I’m sorry.” he would whisper, a hand on your head. “I know how it feels to be lonely like that, but I am here for you, always.” was it a love confession? Perhaps. But he swears it right then and there, you will never feel lonely in this citadel ever again. Gods no, he won’t let it happen. He will rope everyone in the citadel into his shenanigans if he must.

When Micchan finds out about his feelings for you, he accepts it and waits for the right time to confess. When you return his feelings, Micchan is over the moon!!! Of course the relationship you two have is already pretty damn domestic so it’s not like anything changes much.

When you are ready to open up about your past, so will Micchan. He may take a lil bit longer because of his own issues of self worth but he is more than willing to support you all the way.

His first thought of you having a curse is for Ishikirimaru to do something about it, but since he worries that they would lose you, he won’t do it. Of course he will talk over it with you first.

With that vow of never having you feel lonely ever again, whenever he’s gone, he has someone look out for you. Be it a tantou or someone else you’re close to. 

Micchan also makes that vow to never let anyone else break while out on missions. If he has to take the brunt of attacks, damn right he will. Patch him up during this time, love, he’ll enjoy it.

Nightmares between you are a silent and almost sacred time. One of you will wake up with a scream, the other will jolt awake and hugs are soon passed between you two. Soft whispers, tears, tight embraces, and chatter of the past if you two are up for it. Micchan will hold you tight and comfort you as much as he possibly can.

Like Hasebe, Micchan knows that the end may be nigh for any of them. Be it death or taken away by the government. No way is he going to let any of this shit happen though.

“This is our family now,” he would say, while kissing your fingers. “It’s a little crazy and rowdy, but it is ours...do not forget that, love.”

Yamatonokami Yasusada

Oh Yams knows what death feels like, rusting away in the grass instead of being returned to Okita-kun’s family in the end. He knows what it’s like to see the world pass and people die, before joining them in the end. Even if he is you TouDan now, he still feels that phantom pain. So when he finds out that you’re practically immortal, Yams breathes out a heavy sigh of relief.

You won’t die from illness, bless everything in the world for that! You can be alive and don’t have to feel the pain of physically wasting away and cannot do anything about it. You cannot feel helpless as your mind slips, your eyes close, and everything shuts down. But instead the pain you feel is almost worse than what Yamatonokami felt. Yes he watched Okita-kun perish, right beside him, a slow and painful death. But you have seen it happen, over and over and over. At this point he cannot help but worry about you.

He won’t say much to alert you to this, but will always have his hand find yours and give it a soft squeeze and a gentle smile. Like Shoku and Hasebe, he will offer you a shoulder to cry on. He won’t push you of course, but will always be there for you. He’s much more verbal about it though, suddenly bringing you into a sweet hug and this sweet sweet smile.

He swore to not let anything happen to you like Okita, or worse. But when he catches damn feelings for you, oh no he panics. He begins to avoid you yes, just to sort things out. But when he confesses, it’s alone and sweet, with a bouquet of flowers and maybe with some sort of sentimental gift.

“I know it’s difficult being...immortal and all, but I never want you to feel the pain of death, physically at least. I want to be by your side for as long as I can! Will you...will you allow me to do so?”

Yams is much more outgoing than Hasebe and Shoku above, expect him and Kiyomitsu to be always around you, Kashuu because he wants your attention constantly, Yams because he’s your partner in love! Kashuu will get a weeeee bit jelly of how close you two are but as long as you two are happy, he is happy! Whenever Yams is gone, it’s always you and Kashuu to spend time together.

Yams considers everyone at the citadel his family anyway and will make sure to involve you more in their affairs. He wants you to be happy most of all!

Oh sweet sweet Yams’ nightmares are...almost soul rending. When he wakes up with a scream, he will almost claw at his skin to ensure that he isn’t rusting over, perishing into dust. He will be there if you have nightmares of the death of others and your past though, as said he never wants you to go through any sort of emotional turmoil from now on. He would rather rust away again than to let you cry like this.

The end of the fight scares Yams like no other. Like Kashuu, he does have some abandonment issues, since he was kinda left in a field to rot after all. So whenever he worries about this, he always takes your hand and promises that no matter what, he’ll be happy to spend his last days with you.

“I love you so so much! I...I don’t care what happens to us in the end, as long as I can be with you, I will be happy.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Fell in Love in Scotland Pt. 2

Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Warnings: ptsd/trauma related to war; mentions of nightmares; angst; cursing; pining; slow burn; 18+ in later parts (maybe? not sure yet)

Summary: After finding about the new Captain America, the reader goes to Louisiana to visit Sam.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: So I know this isn’t on my list of things I *should* be working on, but I had this idea today and I had to get it down! This is only going to be 2-3 parts.  (Edit: 3 parts!) This is my first time writing for Sam!

I’m taking a small break from working on my other works in progress to focus on getting out as much Sam content as a can before Sam’s (and my) bday on the 14th! Not sure how much I’ll be able to write but that is my hope!

My biggest flex at the moment is sharing a bday with Sam.

This references Civil War, Endgame and Infinity War events in flashbacks but you know, canon is a thing I like to just maneuver around so I’m sorry if there are many major inaccuracies!

This is unedited and please let me know if I missed anything that should be included as a warning.

Taglist is in my bio

The safe house in Scotland was small. A little cottage hidden away in the countryside. Absolutely beautiful, if not for the looming reminders of why you were there in the first place.

You didn’t handle laying low well. You didn’t like not doing anything. Your resolve for handling your thoughts, your problems had always been to just push them aside. Focus your energy on anything but what would pull you down. You couldn’t allow yourself to just exist. Time stopped and there was no fight to be fought, and you hated it.

Fortunately, you were with people who understood. Sam and Steve especially. It didn’t take long for Sam to work his way in. He understood you, and he related to you. Neither one of you really needed to acknowledge it. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you which made it all feel so seamless.

You were restless, and nights were always the worst. You’d spend several hours tossing in turning on your mattress, unable to get comfortable. You’d bring your pillow and sheet with you onto the floor of your room, and if you were lucky enough to fall asleep, you’d wake up after only a few hours. Sometimes you’d remember the nightmares vividly, other times it was just the feelings that lingered.

Most nights, you’d wait it out in your room watching the clock until it was early enough to “get out of bed.” So, you’d wait until the red numbers on the screen turned to 4am and then you’d sneak your way downstairs to the kitchen or the living room, so you didn’t need to face the idea of sleep.

After a few weeks, Sam caught on to your routine. He would join you in the mornings, help you make coffee and talk about nothing. Just helping you keep your mind off the things that bothered you. He looked as tired as you, and you would insist on him getting more sleep. But Sam never made you go through any of the hard days on your own.

“You get used to it,” he’d say, understanding what you were going through better than anybody.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit, curled up in a ball on the sofa, the warm mug of coffee Sam made cradled tightly in your hands. The curtains are pulled open, and you stare out the window to your right, watching the sun slowly coming up.

“You should try sleeping in your bed again,” he suggests. You’d recently promoted yourself from sleeping on the floor to the couch. Baby steps. You nod, knowing he’s right.

You get a rental car the next morning and you drive to the address Sam texted you. You’re greeted immediately by two rowdy young boys, asking you if you’re an Avenger like their Uncle Sam. He’s literally Uncle Sam. How could he think he didn’t deserve the shield? Well, you know why. But the coincidence is too funny not to bring up to him once all of this is resolved.

Each of them grabbed you by an arm and drag you to the backyard. You chuckle, following their lead as they ask you a million questions. They call out to Sam when he is in view and he smiles when he sees you. Your heart flips.

“They bothering you?” he asks and you shake your head.

“No, they’re great,” you beam watching them run off.

“You look good,” he compliments you, and you feel like jelly. “You’re sleeping?” Oh.

“Yeah, I mean, for the most part,” you reply, “So do you.” You can’t miss the smile on his face. “So, uh, have you heard from Bucky?”

“I text him all the time, trying to check in, but no nothing. You?”

You shake your head. “I stopped trying,” you admit, “but I can’t blame him. He really doesn’t know me.”

“He’ll come around,” he reasons, trying to be optimistic. “So, I want to show you the boat?”

“You have a boat?” you chuckle, and he grins, nodding like a little kid.

“35-foot yacht,” he teases.

“Of course,” you smile.

It was only just noon when you both arrived at the docks. The air felt crisper, and the sun felt phenomenal on your shoulders. It wasn’t until you were outside in weather like this that you realized how often you opted to stay hidden away in your apartment. The atmosphere just felt more alive, and the air in your lungs felt almost cleansing.

You sat across from Sam on the bow of the boat, your legs dangling over the side. You were sitting close enough to him that your thighs touched, and you were trying your hardest to ignore the feeling. You just felt warm, and you felt more relaxed than you had been since you’d last seen him.

“I just need to ask,” Sam asks, cutting through both of your laughter. You really had spent the day so far just reminiscing, talking about nothing really. “Did you and Cap- were you guys…?”

“Oh god no,” you choke quickly, you stifle another laugh, “Steve was just a really great friend. No nothing like that. I would go to the end of the earth and back for Steve… but no, I didn’t have feelings for him that way.”

“I had thought maybe at one point something was going on there,” he shrugs. Is he serious?

“Never,” you reiterate.  

Sleeping in a bed became easier, but the nightmares were something that you just couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. Many times, it would be late in the night and you’d be gently shaken awake. Sam would be kneeling next to your bed, trying to wake you up.

“Please stay,” you’d ask, eyes glossed over and your skin stained with tears. He could never say no. You’d scoot over and he’d climb in and settle next to you. It wasn’t even anything romantic. You didn’t cuddle or invade his space. You just needed to feel him next to you, and you’d be able to sleep. The cycle continued for a long while until you were able to sleep through the night without the haunting dreams.

But you missed waking up with him there.

“You need to tell him,” Steve would insist, and you’d shut down the idea every single time.

“No, I can’t,” you’d insist. The only person who knew how you felt was Steve. You hadn’t even told him; he just knew you too well.

“You’re making yourself miserable,” he’d elaborate, “you deserve a little happiness- Sam deserves happiness. He wants you too.”

“Happiness? With me?” you snort, “Steve, think about me, my past- everything I carry around with me. You know as well as I do, I can’t infect him with that when he has his own issues. We’re all too broken- he deserves better.”

“You don’t to be the one to decide that for him,” he counters. “What Sam deserves is the truth.”

“I know, I know!” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself and you can’t look at Steve. “Telling him how I feel complicates things to much. I can’t risk it.”

“Even if he feels the same way?”

“Especially if he feels the same way.”

You rest back on your palms, close your eyes and tilt your head up towards the direction of the sun. Your mind wanders to Steve, and how much you miss him. You were oftentimes too thick headed to take any of his advice but it was something you hadn’t realized you needed.

You decide to just throw out all your apprehension. And just take the advice from Steve you should’ve taken years ago. The timing is perfect. The universe is screaming at you to just tell him.

“I gave up the shield because I didn’t think anyone could follow Steve,” he admits, “I didn’t think I could fill the role- no one can, or maybe no one should.”

“You’re the only person who can, Sam,” you say, looking back over to him.

“When I gave it up, I didn’t think it would be given to someone else. I donated it- to keep it with the rest of what we have left of him. God- if I had known…”

“I watched on television when you donated it, Sam,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Symbols are nothing without the men and women that give them meaning… I wish you saw yourself the way Steve did- the way I do…”

“That’s not fair…”

“You said we need new heroes for the times we’re in. Sam- the world needs a new Captain America. And you know as well as I do, that man on TV they pushed out there isn’t it.”

“It’s not me, either,” he says, looking down at the water, the reflection of the two of you rippled and distorted.

“I wish you could see how much that isn’t true,” you admit, “I also- I also wish I was more like you… You’re so good at talking to me… people like us and Steve. You show people their value and their worth, and you’re just so fiercely loyal it’s almost annoying. And I suck at that, I’m a terrible communicator, and I can’t vocalize how much you’re worth, and how much you deserve the shield. Feelings are just too overwhelming and I can’t focus them into anything coherent. And you right now need what you give others just so freely, and you’re stuck with me… I know I’m not Steve, and I as much as I try to convince you the decision is yours, but you need to know that you are the only person who can be our new Captain… Steve wasn’t wrong about you, and I just… I’m in your corner.”

“(Y/N) …”

It was safe in Scotland. Quiet, secluded. Time wasn’t looming over you. There was nothing there that was any imminent threat except your own demons that you carried with you. You had a lot of regrets, past mistakes that haunted you whenever you slowed down. It’s why when you left the air force, you joined SHIELD. You were like Steve, kindred spirits plagued by the after effects of war and both of you resolved to fighting rather than be left to your own devises.

Not like Sam. Sam put his focus into helping others. Selfless, and understanding, he was always there. He was thoughtful with what he chose to fight for, which is something you greatly admired. He was morals and loyalty, and everything that made a great man. He was a friend first, and a fighter second.

Which is such a rare quality that you wished you could tell him you noticed.

Steve got very into crossword puzzles. He found a box up in the attic tucked away of old books from whoever used to live here. He’d sit on the armchair in the living room, pencil in hand and try his best to fill in what he knew. He ended up heavily relying on you and Sam to fill in the references he didn’t know.

You and Sam would be on the couch, you tucked into his side, watching television or sometimes you’d both read, old magazines or anything you could find for entertainment. One night you both sat on the floor on opposite sides of the coffee table with an incomplete deck of cards playing Double Solitaire, and Steve would occasionally vocalize a clue he was stuck on.

“Drummer of Duran Duran. Blank Taylor. Five letters,” Steve said, not looking up from the flimsy book.

“Roger Taylor,” Sam answered aimlessly, tapping the card in his hand to his chin as his eyes scanned the columns of cards.

A few minutes of silence follow before Steve speaks again.

“1996 Looney Toons film starring Michael Jordan. Eight letters.”

“Space Jam,” you smirk, and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh. You want to ask him what the theme is for the puzzle he’s working on but you decide against it. You don’t want to embarrass him.

It felt really silly. The three of you, all ex-military crime fighters on the run, couped up together in this tiny living room, playing cards and helping Captain America with a pop culture crossword. Maybe it just felt weird because it was so normal.

You’re sweating. You didn’t realize it until just now. The dampness of the underarms of your t-shirt was all you could focus on. Why were you so nervous? Because again, the universe if giving you every single sign to just tell him. Yell it out so loud it echoes back to you across the water. Tell him. Tell him everything.

Every harbored fantasy of being with him. Tell him how much he means to you and how sorry you are that your fears drive you away from him. He feels so strong, and stoic next to you, it’s making your head spin and you feel like your brain is leaving your body behind. He’s so understanding and patient, and here you are, again, leaving him on another cliff hanger.

“Sam, I need to tell you something.”

No going back now.

Taglist:

@greeneyedblondie44 @witchybarb @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @sassy-kassaay @aynanasstuff @claudiaatje @lieswithoutfairytales @ttalisa​ @januarystears 

[faustonastring]

can you write the main 6 with a musician mc, like mc is always singing and playing instruments. maybe even writes songs for them (bonus if mc's magic is somehow connected to music) thank you and i love your writing!!! ps please excuse my crappy english

*very sharp inhale* being that these are all very very similar, for my sanity I’m going to combine all four of them together, so this headcanon will include: Mc, being musically talented in general, then spefically with the violin, then them singing, and your the main six will react yadaddadadada, (I’m writing the belly dancing headcanon in like a week or two, don’t worry baby I gotcha,)

Tagging: @aka-baka-shiki , @mushroom-fucker and @rapidseapizza (I don’t think those last two worked, so I’ll reply to your asks if it still doesn’t work when I post it!) also thanks to all of you for requesting!

Main six with a musically inclined Mc

Asra

He’s head over heels all over again the second you bring out the ‘instrument of the day’ he can sit there for hours on end listening to you play and if you can sing too? He’s swooning. Swooning. And if you use your magick to help you play, or play multiple instruments at once? “Is it getting hot in here?” And if it’s a song about him? He might faint, oh my god how did he get so lucky?

(For the sake of this headcanon let’s just say your best with the violin) when he sees you break out your violin, he gets all giddy and excited, and he will stop what ever he’s doing to watch you play, he loves it, he also picks you up little trinkets and new instruments and violins when he goes on his travels, so everything sounds pretty, but never the same. And it’s so beautiful.

He can listen to your voice for hours and hours. His faveroite past time is laying against you or in your lap, as you play with his hair, and sing him songs, and don’t stop even when he’s asleep, because he will wake up and demand more. And if the song is about him, he stares at you with adoration In his eyes, even when your finished, unsure of what to say.

He also isn’t great with music in general, and he’s not the nest singer, but he will find ways to help you practice and support you, and he will help you enchant your instruments and he will find ways that you can use your magick to your advantage, and he will go to every one of your shows no matter the place, and he will be one of the loudest ones there.

Nadia

Every one in her family can play atleast one instrument, so she has a pretty good understanding of how they work and what they sound like, and what parts they need, which she uses to her advantage of course, but don’t think she’s tired of hearing these instruments get played, oh no no no, it’s quite the opposite.

She will tinker with one of your many many many violins often, she’ll tune them, replace a couple parts, etc etc, she does this with all your instruments honestly especially the ones that sound funky, but she does not mess around when it comes to your violin. How are you supposed to play it for her if it’s not in top notch shape.

Also she loves it when you sing and play your violin, the talent, the beauty, it’s all so....perfect, so....elegant. She can listen to your voice all day, and she loves it especially in the bath, but when you accompany it with your violin *chefs kiss* and if it’s a violin that she had just finished tinkering with, she’ll ask you a million questions about how it’s preformance was and if she needs to make any more improvements

Congratulations because you are now an honorary member of the satrinava family band, everytime Nadia’s sisters come to visit, they’re practically badgering you to play with them some more, and Nadia has to pull you away....only for her to ask for you to play an instrument for her....just for a little bit....

Julian

You two make a dynamic duo indeed. He loves your voice, the fact that you can match your tune to what ever instrument your playing. He thinks that it’s so pretty, and crazy talented of you. But if you write a song about him? He’s stammering and blushing, trying to figure out what to say but words are....just so difficult at a time like this, don’t you agree.

if you write a song about him, you migh have to spefically say it’s about him, or not he spends the rest of the day wondering if your cheating on him, or who that song was for, and if it’s really lovey dovey song, he will ask you, and when you say it’s for/about him, well good thing he’s a doctor because he almost died on the spot.

You two make an extremely dynamic duo for many reasons, but the main reason is, that you can play a violin, and Julian can play the viola. Now I’m no music expert, but they look fairly similar, so when I say you two make some killer melodies together, I mean it. Also playing his viola with you, no matter what instrument you play to match his, is one of his favorite past times.

He books you shows, weekly at the rowdy raven, and he is the loudest one there, and hypes up the whole place, and gets people to start dancing on tables, spilling drinks, the whole shabang. And if your nervous, don’t be! And if your still nervous after that very emotional speech he gave you, he buys you a couple drinks so you can drown out your sorrows.

Portia

It’s so overlooked that she can indeed play an instrument. She can play the acoustic gutair. (Via old ask the arcana) so if you happen to know how to play the acoustic guitar then the two of you trade tips and secrets, of not, she’ll be more than happy to teach you. And she gets so excited that she’s the one teaching you something for once.

She’ll ask you to teach her how to enchant her instruments, or use magick to hell her play, ya’know.....like you do. She’ll also like it if you teach her to play a new instrument, like the ukulele, or piano, and please for the love of god when your teaching her sit behind her and out your hands over her, she blushes like crazy.

She constantly teases you for being good at the violin, and how she feels like she’s “dating her brother” when ever you bring it out, but none of it’s true. The only thing that annoys her about your violin is when you and Julian get into ‘arguments’ about which is better, the viola or violin, especially if one of you some how rope her into it.

But please sing to her. Please. Like imagine cooking or baking with Portia and you sing to/with her to make the time go by faster, or singing to/with her when you clean or bathe together? Or if she’s having a bad day or a rough night. And if you write a song about her, she blushes like crazy then a day later write one about you too.

Muriel

When ever you play an instrument or sing, his heat beats ten times faster than it normally would, he just feels all weird and giddy inside, all excited with joy, that some one as talented and as special as you, chose him. You chose him. And he gets to hear your pretty voice sing, and your pretty instruments all day long. He isn’t one for pretty things, but your an exception.

He’ll never ask you to play him anything, that’s not like him, but he will drop little hints, like by complimenting how well you play x instrument, or how pretty your voice sounds. He’s still getting used to asking for things, so just be paitent with him, he’ll get there eventually, but I’m the mean time, sing him a song why don’t ya

He loves taking you too new spots in the forest for you to try out your instruments, especially your violin, and he falls head over heels if he catches you practicing your violin in one of those spots, or even better, in the hut while he’s not home. He’ll also make you new parts for each of your instruments of things get broken or bent out of shape, your violin is the one he pays the most attention too.

He loves the way your voice sounds. Your the only person who he can listen too talk for hours on end and not get a headache. So he absolutely loves it when you sing to him. He also loves to hear your voice singing to him after he’s had a nightmare or a bad dream, and if you write a song for him, he’ll cry.

Lucio

Ooh? Please teach him your ways oh musically inclined one. He wants to be just as talented and as cool as you. Speaking of cool, he thinks the fact that you can play multiple instruments, and sing, and use your magick to help you is the coolest shit in the world. Now he just admires you even more than he already did.

He isn’t the most paitent, so your lucky if he even gets the basics down for whatever instrument you want to try to teach him, but hey he’s trying! Plus it’s bonding! The thing with lucio is; he gets really agitated when he doesn’t get something right, right away, so when he figures out it takes time and paitence to be a master musician, he uhhh. Starts to lose interest.

But when you bring out your violin, ohhh boy does he have your attention. He loved the way it sounds, and how you get so into it, the fact that you look so focused and beautiful while you make beautiful music with such a boring instrument amazes him. And he asks you too play it all his parties, but not too much. He gets jealous.

He likes the idea of knowing your playing for him, and only him. And if you write a song about him or for him, he gets a little self conscious, but tries to play it off and act all cool, but he’s a little self conscious. Just a little. But don’t worry. He’ll repay the favor by writing a song for you too. And he’ll serande you from the palace gardens while you watch from your balcony.

Thanks for reading! I put a lot of effort into this so I hope you liked it! And if you want to read more of my garbage my masterlist is located here!

Next headcanon: Mc with social anxiety!

Request are open!

[avversiera-writes]

‘till death do us part - chapter 4 [tobirama senju/you]

Chapter 4 - Look to the Horizon

Summary: It starts with a bad dream. And then everything going wrong. 

Words: 4.1k

A/N: Idk about you guys, but the way I wrote this chapter makes me laugh. Also, ptsd nightmare at the beginning. 

this work is also on AO3. 

<< Chapter 1 - Allegiances // Chapter 2 - Union // Chapter 3 - Love Like you 

“It has been a while since we’ve seriously sparred,” you comment as you sidestep out of the way of Tobirama’s bokken.

Swiftly, you turn, and you meet his wooden sword, making a cross between the two of you. In the gaps, your eyes meet each other. You give his sword a nudge, and Tobirama gives in a little, and the space between the two of you rapidly decreases. 

 Tobirama smirks, looking very pleased as you two dance around each other, the golden light rays of the sunset smiling upon the two of you with warmth. The light hits his face just right, and you can see his red eyes clearly, seeing flecks of black and white in his irises. Tobirama watches you with eyes wide in wonder, and he lets you counter by effectively dismantling his sword from his hand with a twist of your blade. 

 The bokken clatters to the ground, and Tobirama bends down to pick it up. 

 “No fair,” you tell him. “That was too easy.” 

Tobirama hides a smile and he shakes his head. “What if it was a trick?” 

 “Huh?”

 Tobirama wastes no time as he strikes from above and you counter at the last minute. Your arms shake from the sheer force, but you are trained in speed and precision, not brute strength and so you kick back at his knees to get him off. 

Tobirama draws back, and in the last second, he slaps his hiraishin seal on to your blade. You widen your eyes, and Tobirama is suddenly right in front of you, zeroing in for the kill. 

 Tobirama cannot stop, it is like his body is being controlled by a divine force. No matter how much he screams in his mind, he is going, and going even faster. The look in your eyes does not even make him stop, and somehow, the wooden sword has turned into a real one, and he hears the metal sing for blood. 

“Tobirama!” You screamed, your face completely changing to horror. 

 Sickeningly, he feels the blade go through flesh, and his ears ring from your raw screams.

Tobirama wakes with a start, and cold sweat soaks his body and through his sleep yukata. His chest heaves with the effort to get air into his lungs, but he can hear himself breathe shallowly. His mind feels light, and his hands are cold and numb, and the feeling travels up his arms and then his chest, paralyzing him for a moment. Spots dance in his vision and he closes his eyes to will them away. 

 Finally, he is able to sit up and his body shakes as if his organs are jolting and crashing against each other like an earthquake intent on rupturing the ground, and blood pumps through his arteries like the rush of a flood, making his pale skin red. He lets out a shaky breath and he takes his trembling hands and presses his palms against his eyes. 

  What was that? He thinks.

He glances at your sleeping form, and another cold, numbing wave rushes through him, and this time, it feels like a thousand needles pricking every microscopic opening of his skin. It is on his eyes, his cheeks, his whole body, each pinprick so painful that he is tempted to tear his skin off until his nails crack and blood is finally released to offer him some relief.

 All was well. He was with you, alone and as his wife. He was learning to get along with another person besides himself and his family. He was learning to express his love and discard his fears and his worries. He was learning to accept all the good things that were withheld from him as a child. 

 Why must all good things come with a price? 

 And to him, you are too good. 

He knows that he is being irrational, that it is probably nothing, but his nightmare sits on his chest and the more it replays in his mind, the more it upsets him. He will never hurt you, so why is he doing that in his dreams? 

 His paranoia is getting to him. Maybe he is looking for a fight, or something his hands can busy themselves with. 

Tobirama sighs heavily, and recalls that his dream is eerily similar to the way he had killed Uchiha Izuna. 

 He moves away from you, unable to bear the contact of another body against his own. He takes out his things, and he starts to rearrange everything until he deems it perfect. Then, he takes to his journals and his scrolls, catching up on his reading and writing his ideas down. 

 Occasionally, he glances at you, and he tries to swallow and kill the feeling of dread. 

//

Your husband is too quiet for your liking. He is also avoiding you like a plague, and he does not look at you when speaking. You figure that he is having one of his moods, so you let him be, only addressing him when needed and asking simple yes or no questions. Currently, the two of you are heading to your next destination, which is a little farther from Konoha, but it is also known for its vast hunting grounds, mountain ranges and booming towns. 

 The two of you did not have a set itinerary for your travels, which was surprising–since Tobirama is a huge planner–but you both have the common goal to travel to other places in the country without the strings of a mission. Sometimes, you miss out on huge details when you are not there to take your time and enjoy the sights. 

You glance at Tobirama, who is scowling at the air in front of him. 

 Ahead, you hear angry shouts and horses whining, followed by the whipping sounds of a lash. 

Tobirama snaps alert, and his eyes narrow to focus. With a nod, the two of you take to the trees and land silently on the branches to view what is happening. You conceal yourselves behind the thick trunks of the trees and peer downwards to a rough passage cutting through two tall hills, one of which you and Tobirama are situated on.

 You watch the procession of children, young adults, women and men that are able bodied toil through the rocky terrain, their wrists shackled by train of chains to ensure that no one breaks line. Some of them are missing shoes, or have discarded them along the way. 

Supervising these were ruffians, carrying a variety of weapons, and they are shouting and whipping at those who are lagging behind. 

You narrow your eyes, your intuition telling you that something is very wrong. 

"What do you think?" You mouth towards Tobirama when your gazes meet simultaneously. 

 Your husband points down, and the two of you quietly descend to the ground. 

"You've seen this before?" You query, watching his wary gaze. 

 "Slaves to be sold, probably," Tobirama replies grimly. "Most are kidnapped."

 "We can't just turn a blind eye on this," you say as you take another look. “They are just children.”

Tobirama says nothing.

You narrow your eyes, and you see, at the end of the line, three familiar faces, who look too clean and too conspicuous. They do not look as dead tired as the others. 

"Oh gods," you murmur under your breath. 

 "What is it?"

 "What was your brother thinking?" You hiss. 

 Tobirama follows your line of sight and he frowns. “They are Chuunins now. They need the experience. Stop coddling them.”

 “Tell me that again without being perturbed,” you snap in a low voice. 

Tobirama looks pissed, but you know it is not directed towards you. His jaw tightens, as he watches one of the watchers whip a child. Then, he meets your gaze again. 

 “We have to do something with those face tattoos of yours,” you suggest. You ignore your feeling when he seems to flinch when you make a move to touch his face, and drop your hand. 

//

The day fades into the night when the string of kidnapped people have arrived into their final destination. It is a booming town, with streets alive with the early hours of the night life–rowdy men who are already drunk from day drinking and women in full make-up outside of the love hotels they work for, eager to welcome in any customers. No one takes notice of the procession, which makes you think that this is the norm for this town, or that everyone is afraid to voice their objections because this group of people are a part of something bigger and more powerful than them.

 You glance at Tobirama, who looks way younger with his face tattoos covered. Up ahead, the motley crew flood into what seems like an amphitheater, and the two of you blend in with the prisoners after they got released from their chains. 

 The women you are with are shaking with fear, and some are staring at the ground with a blank expression. You try to talk with them, but they refuse to do so, only glancing at the guards with fear. 

 You find Tobirama talking to a few kids, and it seems like he is reassuring them. Your heart softens at the sight, but your attention is taken away when the screaming starts. You try to find your students in the mayhem, but you still cannot find them. 

 It is not exactly dark, since there are pyres of fire lighting up the whole amphitheater, but the screaming is not of fear–it is of excitement and instigation. 

First, you watch as stick thin women are lined up in the center of the audience. They are half-naked for men to ogle at, and then, somebody comes up to auction them off, calling for bets and announcing who is sold to whom. 

 Then, after the women are sold off, various weapons are pulled into the arena. They line the walls, ranging from spears, to swords, to knives and an assembly of mismatched armors that will never work unless one is trained to wear them in battle. One would be a fool to try them on now. You watch as the crowd roars, impatient for entertainment. Money is being collected by teenage boys from the aisles, while you and the people who were brought in are pushed nearer to the ring. 

 You have no doubt that you and your husband can fight and win, but that is not your objective. The two of you are supposed to collect intel and infiltrate and somehow rescue your students, but their faces are still nowhere to be found. 

You meet Tobirama’s eyes and he gives you a small, imperceptible nod, meaning that your students are alive and nearby. 

 It isn’t hard to comprehend what is going on here. Either the daimyos of this part of the country are profiting from this, or this town is run by a strong gang who make their money by providing these kinds of services–pitting children against each other and selling slaves. 

 You suppose that this is what shinobis still do, but the difference is, it is legalized and approved by everybody. 

 Then, cheers erupt again, louder this time, as three figures are thrown into the ground. 

“Everyone, we have some special guests!” An announcer shouts. “Three Konohagakure shinobis!” 

Your heart drops to your stomach, but you keep to yourself, lest you give yourself or Tobirama away. 

Damn it , you curse at the gods, anyone, really. 

 You regret not giving your students opportunities to infiltrate properly, or being distracted by your other duties as a shinobi and not spending enough time to drill them. You understand that being a shinobi means dying on the mission, but it is not like that anymore, but you are naive to think that just because the village you live in has acquired some peace, does not mean that the rest of the world is also at peace. 

 Outside of your life, children still die because there is no one to fight for them. They are rounded up like this, and they learn how to fight to live another day. 

You observe, looking for some opening. You put your hopes in your students that they have enough wits to gather and keep themselves alive. 

“They will fight against our champion,” the announcer continues. 

 A man wearing a demon mask appears, carrying a naginata with a blade that curves wickedly. You know that this blade is no ordinary blade by the way the air around it seems to hum. However, a man is only as good as the blade he wields. You hope that your students are better, and can make up for lack of strength with their brains. You know that they are more of a tactical team than an offensive one, but they do well when they work together. 

 “If they are Konohagakure, one should be enough to defeat him!” Someone aggressively shouts from the crowd. 

 A cold shiver runs through your spine and you hope that they do not pick Mieko. When she became part of your genin team, you refused profusely to the Hokage that she should not be a shinobi as she was not inclined to battle at all. Her instincts are all over the place, and her skills are quite clumsy. However, you know that her mind is sharp, and with training, she greatly improved. 

 Still. You are very hesitant. 

 Some people start to express their disapproval, and you see Tobirama signal you to be ready. 

“The girl!” 

 The rest follow suit, their voices growing ever stronger. They are not individuals anymore. Shrouded with the loud volume and the anonymity the night offers, they become one body. They will prey at the small and weak. Like children. 

 There are no such thing as scary beasts. The real monsters are the people. 

The crowd cheers as the Kai and Taiyo are dragged off, blindfolded and tied. 

 Well, it looks like the plan for flooding the arena is off the table. 

Tobirama begins to move, and you make yours as well. 

“The people have spoken!” 

The match begins, and you spectate with the crowd. Tobirama disappears to follow the boys, and you focus your attention to Mieko. 

 The masked man swings at Mieko, and you feel a surge of pride as she ducks and goes forward to attack. The man is taller than Mieko, and with her size and speed, she can make up for it. She goes for the vital spots and slices at the back of the knees, and you begin to make your way closer, despite garnering looks. Tobirama is probably done already, and you need to make this quicker. 

 The two of you can report back to Hashirama and send another team to save the people here later on. 

The crowd boos, and you see Mieko get hit with the blunt end of the naginata. Disoriented, she distances herself. 

 Despite the bleeding on the back of the man’s knees, he is still able to stand upright. He makes his way towards Mieko and draws the crowd with him. 

 You lunge out and grab at a sword nearby, and parry the oncoming strike away. 

“Sensei?!” Mieko exclaims. “What are you doing here?!” 

 You grin, as the crowd boos again. “Long story, kid. Don’t worry, the boys are alright. But we need to go.” 

You frown at the sword, hating how unbalanced it feels. It seems like anyone who gets pitted against this man is already at disadvantage. 

The arena immediately floods with men, their swords out and glinting under the orange glow of the fire. 

“Watch my back,” you tell your student, and give them a reassuring smile. “We have to fight our way out.”

 “But sensei–”

 “I trust you,” you cut her off, deciding to dispense your doubts against her from before. “I know you know what you are doing. You just lack experience, that’s all. Now, chin up.”

You charge at the masked man, keeping low and close so that his long weapon is at disadvantage. You aim upwards, and you manage to hack at the mask, splitting it in half. Then, you go after him as he backs away. 

 The rest of the theater is thrown into chaos, with the prisoners running around to get away. Since most of the men are on your back, there is no one guarding them. 

 The naginata swings and you back away, and it almost cuts away at your neck. 

Mieko screams, and you turn and ward off the man who just managed to wound her arm. 

 “It’s okay,” you tell her, keeping your eye at the man. 

There are three Tobiramas clearing an opening efficiently, and you push Mieko towards it. 

 “Just in time,” you murmur amusedly. 

You cut and hack, not minding the warm spray of blood on your face. 

The man follows, but there is too much going on. 

 “Almost there,” you urge. 

Suddenly, Tobirama shouts your name at the same time the sharp piercing of a blade embeds itself into your side. It comes out to your front, and you feel yourself pale and grow light-headed. The naginata was pushed into you, and you stare at the tip of the blade, in disbelief that a part of it is now inside you. 

Mieko drags you, and you attempt to take it out. You rather bleed than slow down the escape. 

 The situation has turned ridiculous, and maybe you are dying, because you find it hilarious that you are dragging a long weapon using the sheer will of your probably eviscerated organs. 

The naginata lightens as you hear something break, and suddenly, the real Tobirama is placing your arm around his neck, and the three of you leave behind chaos. You are aware of the loud gushing of water behind you and men drowning, and Tobirama’s harsh breathing as he curtails you out and into safety. 

//

“Stay with me,” Tobirama commanded, his voice hard and taut. 

 You feel hands all over you, trying to do damage control by controlling the bleeding and stabilizing the blade that is stabbed through you. 

 You feel the warm, blazing feeling of basic medical ninjutsu being used, and you keep still, focusing on being conscious. 

You reach for Tobirama’s hand, which is sticky with your blood, and you give it a squeeze, proving to him that you will be alright.

“What in the gods’ names, are you three doing here?” Tobirama demands. “This is too far out from the village for newly Chuunins to venture to.”

 Mieko replies calmly as her ninjutsu covers your wound. “Lord Hokage approved of this mission for us. He thinks it is suitable for us young Chuunins. It was just supposed to be recon.”

 Tobirama’s jaw visibly hardens. “How long until the bleeding stops?” 

 “I am almost done,” Mieko says. “But the blade–”

“Take. It. Out,” you say through gritted teeth.

 “Are you out of your mind?!” Tobirama barks. “You will die.” 

 “I won’t,” you reason. “I’m...in good hands.”

Mieko swallows nervously. “Maybe if we do it slowly...but we have to be in a cleaner place.” 

“Your lack of concern over your disposition is shocking,” Tobirama deadpans sarcastically. 

 “It is my lack of concern over my disposition that got us out,” you try to laugh, but the piercing pain travels upwards your torso. 

 “Be quiet,” Tobirama scolds. “Your life is not a joke.” He sighs. “And mind you, I got us all out.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, dismissal. “Genius inventor and savior of the universe, Senju Tobirama–”

 “If this injury does not kill you, I will snuff you out in your sleep,” Tobirama threatens. 

 You roll your eyes, even though every movement hurts. However, bantering with your husband is a comfort and a welcoming distraction. “The bar is so low for good husbands.” 

Tobirama rolls his eyes as well, and he crosses his arms together. You can tell that beneath his annoyance, he is frantic. “Stop being dramatic.” 

 “Take your own advice,” you bite back for the sake of having the last word. 

Kai and Taiyo glance at each other uneasily. It is not strange for the two of you to argue relentlessly in front of people, but it does become quite a chore for everyone to hear. 

 “I stopped the bleeding,” Mieko sighs with relief.

You give her a smile. “You sound like you weren’t sure and I’d die bleeding out on some random forest floor.”

 “If you can talk so incessantly, I think you’re better off putting that energy into walking,” Tobirama interrupts, his tone not exactly irritated. You can sense his concern under his sassy comments. 

He helps you stand to your feet, and you wince. 

 “I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him slowly. 

 “Like I would let you,” Tobirama snaps, already putting your arm around his shoulder. He is fuming, and though that is probably enough to make others run, you find it adorable. 

 He glances at you with a scowl, realizing that you actually said adorable out loud.

Maybe you are slowly dying.

//

After the kids booked a room, you all set to the task of removing the blade. 

 You know you cannot scream out loud, so there is a towel in between your teeth to muffle your screams. Tobirama is scolding your ear off, and you suppose it has its perks. His voice distracts from the pain, and little by little, your student pulls off a field surgery that can put an experienced Chuunin to shame. It is not perfect, but it will do until you can get to the hospital.

Tobirama does the bandaging and he dismisses the kids to go fetch supplies. Weak and still in pain for the lack of anaesthetics, you feel heavy and groggy. It is like you are about to tear apart any second, but your senses are fried and you are unaware of the scope of damage. 

 “You shouldn’t try to move,” Tobirama says, his fingers quickly tying the bandage. 

 You stare at him, and give him a wan smile. “Sorry.”

 “For what?” Tobirama deadpans. “Not watching your own back? Not being alert and anticipating any kinds of attacks?”

 “Right, right,” you let out a small chuckle. “Lecture me some more. I could die from infection tomorrow.”

 Tobirama stops and he turns rigid. He collects his hands resting on your stomach. “Do you have a death wish?” 

You slowly reach for his hand, and coax it to hold yours. “You were worried for me.”

 Tobirama scoffs. “As you said, the bar is so low for good husbands.” 

“I love you,” you whisper. 

 Tobirama stares at you, caught off-guard. Then, he lets out a small breath that sounds like he is more amused than angry. “You say the worst things.”

 You roll your eyes. “You said it first.” 

 “You should sleep,” Tobirama suggests, and he takes your hand to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Tomorrow, we’ll get you home.” 

The suggestion of sleep weighs on your eyelids, but another thought enters your mind. 

“What will you and your brother talk about?” You ask, your words disconnecting from your mind and the syllables rolling off lazily. “This whole situation is a misjudgement of his, not that I’m questioning his ability to rule...He is a good man.” 

 Tobirama smooths your forehead with his palm, and you close your eyes. 

 “We’ll see.” 

//

Midnight comes, and Tobirama stares at the night sky in the engawa of the room they have settled in. His heart is heavy, and even more so with your unexpected injury. He cannot help but think that he may have a hand in this, but that is simply irrational. Dreams are just dreams, and they will stay dreams if they are not spoken of and put to action. 

 Dreams are not his forte, after all. It was his brother who had a vision, and he was the one who lay out the groundwork for it to happen. 

 If his dreams are to come true, then he is selfish and afraid, qualities that a shinobi should never have. 

He squints at the night sky, and finds a hawk circling in. 

 The heavy feeling in his heart does not abate. 

Tobirama holds out his hand, hoping that it is delivering good news, but that is unlikely. He knows Konoha can hold its own for a few days without him. 

 This must be something worse. 

 The hawk lands, and Tobirama uncovers the scroll attached to its leg. He sends the hawk away, and he rolls the tiny message out. 

 It spells a sentence that makes Tobirama flare in rage. He recognizes his sister-in-law’s elegant hand-writing.

Madara has returned to destroy the village. 

To be continued...

Chapter 5 - Return >>

[peaky-whore]

What Happens to the Heart • J. Shelby [Part One]

Pairing: John Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,656

Warning: None

Summary: You’re the best of friends with John.

A/n: This is in your point of view. Also, I’m sorry is this doesn’t make sense, it will eventually. And there is a memory in here, so that’ll be the italics. Overall, this is just the beginning!

To say John and I were the best of friends would be an understatement, the two of us were inseparable from the day we met; wherever he was, there was no doubt I’d be right by him. Dangerous, or not.

Most of the time, though, folks thought we were in a relationship, something along those lines. Other times, we’d get ourselves into trouble, Polly - my mom also - wouldn’t be pleased to talk us out of jail. To make it short, we’d get smacked in the back of the head by our guardians whilst on the way to Watery Lane, along with lectures on how to behave, I was even told that my actions are not ladylike. They still loved us, I know that much.

Our closeness brought me unexpected feelings for the Shelby boy, and though we told each other everything - from my first kiss to his first fuck - I would never admit how I felt towards him. Especially since he found a girl he fancies. There was no way I was going to break them up, I loved him too much to do something destructive as that.

So there I sit, awaiting his arrival at the Garrison. I couldn’t even order a damn drink without him. But as minutes turned into a half hour, and that an hour, I gave up. He wasn’t coming, Martha probably needed him more than I, but as a good friend, I’m okay with that; as a secret admirer, however, I felt jealous - I just despised the thought of it - upset that he’d ditch me here.

Just as I was going to walk out, here came the handsome, blue eyed man himself. He looked to be panting.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but Martha kept me. Sit. I have something to tell you.” He explained, hooking his arm with mine and pulling me to a secluded table. The smile he wore was one I have never seen before, so I couldn’t help but follow along and sit across from him.

The news must have been too important for drinks.

He looked at me, a smile still plastered on his flawless face, one that will most definitely be stuck in my mind for days on end. John looked like a little boy, happy that he was told he had good manners and behaviour in school, whilst really, he was quite the opposite. Except the manners, he had those covered.

I rested my arms on the table and leaned forward, impatiently waiting for him to speak. “Oh, get on with it John.” There is no way I’m playing the guessing game tonight.

“Martha, she’s with child. My child. Y/n, I’m gonna be a father.” It felt as if he’d spoken a foreign language, one I couldn’t understand but still heard. I’m sure my expression is surprised, since he waited for me to talk. I simply couldn’t.

Before he started to ask questions, I cleared my throat and threw on a forced smile. “Congratulations, John-boy. You’re a man now, I hope you know.” He let out a playful scoff and an eye roll, making us laugh.

“I’ve always been a man.” He replied, giving a smug smirk at the end. His eyes met mine for a brief moment before looking towards the shelves of liquor behind me. “I think this deserves a drink, eh?” Before I could answer him, he got up, lifted me by the arm and drug me across the nearly empty pub, and ordered us whiskey - an entire bottle to be precise.

This happened until the war broke out, boys across Europe were being sent to fight for their people, or enlisting, including John, and his two elder brothers, Arthur and Thomas. By then, Martha was pregnant with their fourth child, meaning she’d be alone for the birth of their baby girl, or boy. And she was, but Polly, Ada, Finn, and I were present, keeping her company before and after she went into labour.

It’s been four years since the boys left, leaving families behind, I know some won’t be returning, and it breaks my heart just thinking about it. There will be so many mothers, sisters, aunts, and wives without their men. And the ones that do return are going to be stuck with those God awful memories, nightmares.

Since they left, I’ve been the opposite of trouble, I’d actually gone to church with Polly and her little clan, along with Martha and her children. I prayed for the boy’s safety, that included my two elder brothers and the many cousins I have. They all meant the world to me, each of them taught me something valuable, and I couldn’t let the thought of them not coming home get the better of me, so I turned to God. Polly turned me to God.

And because so many unspeakable events happened in these long, devastating four years, all I wanted was my brothers home, and John. How I longed for him.

It must be pathetic to be falling this hard for your best friend - your now best friend’s husband - I hated how much I wanted him for myself. He’s got a beautiful wife, smart and rowdy children, there’s no way I could be that selfish. John has what he always wanted, a family of his own.

What kind of monster would try to take him away from those he cared for and loved? The question was branded into my brain and was beyond hard to ignore.

Tragedy struck when Martha fell ill, her sickness was beyond the doctors, and she was put on bed rest until it was her time to go. I couldn’t face not having her around, she and I became rather close - practically sisters - in the last few years. As time went on, she died peacefully in her and John’s shared home. Their children were heartbroken, they were young but old enough to know what death is.

Since her funeral, Polly put me on nanny duty, knowing she didn’t have time for them and the betting shop, I agreed. During the first few weeks, the children were a mess, throwing tantrums for their mother, refusing any food I cooked and bedtime. They soon got comfortable with me around more, until Polly announced she heard Germany had surrendered and all countries agreed to stop fighting until their negotiation was set.

Although I was still mourning the loss of Martha, I couldn’t be anymore happy that our boys will be coming home to us. The kids were beyond the moon that their dad was returning, and so it was the same thing all over again; they were acting up again, asking for their daddy.

I promised them soon.

Which brought us here, Birmingham train station, with loads of women and children, along with relatives of the men’s families. I held Daniel at my hip, glancing up from him telling me about his day every once in a while to see if the train was near, surely I would hear it if it were nearby.

This morning, early this morning, I would pinch myself to see if this were a cruel dream, or if it were real.

“I hear it!” Exclaimed Ada, her arms draped around Finn’s shoulders, keeping him in place so he doesn’t wander off. She gave a big smile and as if on queue, I heard the horn from a distance.

My heart rapidly pounded against my chest. It’ll be the first time in four years that I’ve seen my brothers. What scares me most is that they’ll be mad at me for not writing and telling any of them about our mother, but she made me promise not too until they got home, so I kept my word.

The train took another five minutes before it stopped in front of us, all our men were soon off once the doors opened. I searched from where I was standing for the two goofs that were my brothers, of course, not like I didn’t expect it, they stepped off with blank expressions; no look of happiness to be home.

I couldn’t help but let my tears flow. They’re not the same boys I grew up with, but men who’ve experienced more than they should whilst on the battlefield. The boys who used to be carefree and adventurous were not the men standing mere feet away from me. I secured Daniel before squeezing through the crowded train station, almost face to face with my older brothers. They looked different but I still recognized their faces.

Their cold gazes met my figure and softened. Immediately, I was embraced by both of them, sobbing onto their uniforms in no time.

“Is . . . is this real?” I asked frantically, not wanting them to disappear if I were to let go of them. They let out light chuckles and nodded.

“I’m afraid so, little sister, you can’t rid us that easy.” Mason jokes, trying to lighten up the mood, I could see his eyes searching for someone. Our mum. How am I going to tell them? It’ll be more difficult than I thought now that they’re here.

Andrew looked down at Daniel, his eyes lighting up. “Got yourself a bloke I see. Hope he’s treated you well whilst we were away.” He started to make silly faces at the boy in my arms, causing him to giggle. I shook my head, tightening my hold on him so he wouldn’t accidentally fall.

“He’s a sweetheart, but if you look closely, the boy resembles a Shelby. I’ve taken on the care of Martha and John’s lovely children since she died.” They looked at me like I sprouted two heads. “Yeah. Almost a year ago. Pestilence.”

But before another word was spoken, I was being embraced by someone else. Someone oddly familiar. Nonetheless, I wrapped my arms around them, feeling a sudden warmth, one I’d been missing more and more as the years went on.

“John.”

•••

If you enjoyed reading this, please leave a like, reblog, or comment! Feedback is welcome!

[palettepainter]

Since you reblog he’s wanderingchocolateeclair’s headcannons on PL’s mum can I ask for some family headcannons with your version of PL’s parents? Maybe what PL’s childhood was like with four other siblings?

You most definitely can! Powerloader’s mum does have a name but for the sake of not confusing people I’ll just call her PL’s mum

- PL’s mum at first only wanted one kid. She had been an only child to her parents so had never grown up with siblings. Higari wasn’t planned but was a welcome surprise, and the two later down the line planned to give Higari a sibling (Hono) and then leave it at that. Jokes on her she ended up with three more kids, loves them all dearly but god where they a handful as kids. Higari and Hono the most. You know that thing where kids grab their parents leg while they’re still walking? They did that CONSTANTLY with her whenever they wanted something and she said no, would often end up giving up and giving them what it was they wanted in the end, but now days she’s a hard women to bargain with. More often then not Higari and Hono would crawl their way into bed with her and their father and she’d wake up with the two little snots clinging to her or their father, she found it honestly rather cute and would let the boys all sleep in while she got off to work, their mother is an early riser by nature

-Though Higari and Hono as adults do not get along, as kids they where a trouble duo. They where constantly play fighting, dragging mud and garden snakes into the house (scaring the life out of their poor mother), climbing trees, rolling down hills, swimming in lakes, playing with pots and pans, drawing on the walls, and for sure broke the occasional vase every now and then, which they then totally blamed on the family dog. Their father was a fun loving guy so tended to encourage Higari’s and Hono’s chaotic ways, insisting the boys where just having fun, which left their mother in charge of telling them off and punishments. PL’s mum over the years has gained saint like patience but has a low bullshit tolerance, she can be blunt and to the point when needed - when you have two rowdy little boys running round the house you had to be. One effective strategy that always proved efficient with Higari and Hono when they where little was the count down to three method. Whenever their mother pulled the ‘I’m going to count to three and you had better be sitting at this dinner table or else’ card, that’s when Higari and Hono got their crap together because ma wasn’t messing around anymore

-She was actually really happy when Higari showed interest in playing outside as a kid rather then sit infront of a TV. With how the universe of MHA is set years in the future with a bunch of advanced technology living out in the country and playing outside in the dirt is an extinct past time for kids, so knowing Higari liked playing outside was a relief for her. Past her rugged ways she was very soft and caring towards her kids, and when Higari, Hono and the twins where little spent many afternoons outside playing with them. They built a tone of dens in their back yard, and one of her fondest memories is firefly catching.

-Bath time for the kids was a nightmare. Higari would one minute be clean, she’d turn her back for just a moment, turn around again, and Higari’s somehow covered in dirt. PL’s mum doesn’t mind this, as long as the kids clean up after they’re finished playing, cuz she’ll de dammed if she’s letting her kids anywhere near the furniture with all that muck and dirt on them. Go figure but Higari as a kid hated bath time, it was the bane of his childhood and did everything within his power to avoid it. Hono, being his young impressionable brother, also grew to hate bath times, so NOW she had two kids to try and catch to take a bath. With both her and her husband they where able to catch Higari and Hono fairly quickly, but when the twins came into the mix it got even more interesting, because NOW they had to catch Higari, Hono, Taiho and Chikara to take a bath. PL’s mum and dad would always end up winning the battle and the kids would eventually get a bath in the end, after much chasing, and then all be put in a time out by their mum for causing all that hassle.

-PL’s mum may not understand all the fancy city stuff but she respects Ectoplasm and that he keeps Higari happy. Their mother may be old but she can and will fight someone if you make her babies sad, she don’t care how old her kids are they’re still her babies. Same goes for Ectoplasm and their kids, she considers him family, make Ecto, Haiya or Riley cry she’ll stomp you into non-existence. Whenever Higari comes down to visit she always makes him wear a shirt, she doesn’t care if he’s an adult dress properly damn you - also fusses he’ll catch his death of cold walking around half dressed.

[yikesharringrove]

I love your trans Stevie au so much! I was wondering were Stevie and billy already together when she came out or did they get together after?

I’m gonna write the big fic I have planned for mtf stevie, so I decided to explore something different than what my plan is for that one

modern

Under the cut for some very brief transphobia and a mention of self harm/vague intonations of suicide, Billy talks about his dad (nothing is graphic, but still thought I’d warn)

-

Billy figured he would be the talk of the damn town he stomped out the Camaro and into the school like he owned the place.

He thought everyone would stare at the vintage muscle car, thought girls would whisper behind their hands as he walked down the hall.

And as he looked across the parking lot, he got a taste of what he wanted, saw a few curious glances to his California plates.

But then a sleek black BMW pulled into the space next to his, a beautiful brunette girl getting out of the driver’s seat.

It was like a hush fell over the lot.

Everyone stared at her as she walked into the school, head held high, shoulders back.

Billy followed her into the school, watching her closely.

Her hands trembled as she opened her locker, carefully placing textbooks inside.

He wanted to know what her deal was.

He leaned against her locker.

“You new here, too?” She looked over at him, smiling weakly.

“In a way.” He held out his hand.

“Billy Hargrove.”

“Stevie Harrington.” He took her hand in his, made sure to smirk just so.

“You think you could help me find my first period? I just moved here, and didn’t manage to get a tour before the first day.” She flushed a little.

“Um, can I see your schedule?” She scanned over it.

“Oh man, you’ve got Andrews for English. She was a nightmare. I had her two years ago.” Billy furrowed his brows.

“I thought you were new-”

“Harrington’s a fucking tranny!” Stevie’s reaction was immediate.

The second the shout came from down the hall, she slammed her locker shut, shoving Billy’s schedule at him.

“Have a good first day.” She practically ran down the hall.

Billy looked back at the group of rowdy guys, all laughing as Stevie darted down the hall.

“Hey! What the fuck?” Billy stomped up to them, shoving the one that yelled against the lockers. “Don’t fucking say that!”

“Dude, that’s fucking Alex Harrington. He like, disappeared last year. He’s a fucking tra-”

Billy didn’t let him finish the sentence.

Punched him square in the nose.

“Don’t ever fucking using that word. You’re fucking disgusting.” He glared at each of the guys in turn. “If I fucking see, or hear, or get any kinda wind of y’all fucking with her, I’m gonna break all ‘a your noses.”

He smirked as they fucking cowered.

Yeah. Bow to your new fucking King.

-

He found Stevie back at her locker a few minutes into the lunch period.

He leaned on the lockers next to hers again.

“This place fucking sucks.” She gave him an odd look. “Apparently y’all have to eat in the cafeteria. At my old school, I used to eat out on the football field.”

“Yeah, we don’t really have a football field.” She closed her locker quietly. She was fidgeting with her hands.

“You don’t got a lucnh?”

“I, uh, I usually buy it. But I don’t really wanna, wanna face everyone in there.” Her voice was small, and she was avoiding eye contact.

“I could bring you something. Or stand in line with you, or something.” She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Is this a joke?”

“No?”

“Or like, like a prank?”

“No. I’m really offering.” He tried to keep his face open, wanted her to trust him.

“Um, I guess it would be okay if you stood with me.” They set off down the hall. “But you don’t have to sit with me, or anything.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She huffed a laugh.

“Did you hear what Tommy yelled this morning?”

“Yeah, I did. Punched him out for it.” Stevie stopped in her tracks, whirling around to look incredulously at Billy.

“You what?”

“He shouldn’t’ve said that.”

“Billy, he wasn’t lying-”

“That’s not what I meant. He shouldn’t have used that specific word, and he shouldn’t’ve fucking outed you. It’s your choice if you want to be out or not.” Her eyes were even fucking bigger than usual as she looked at him.

“I mean, I don’t really have a choice in a town this size. Especially because, because everyone knew me before.”

“Still, it was fucked up. And that wasn’t okay.” They began walking again.

“Um, thank you, Billy. I was wondering who busted Tommy’s face. He’s gotta big mouth. Gets punched a lot.” Billy laughed, and was delighted to see Stevie give him a little half smile. 

The smile was gone when they reached the cafeteria.

But Billy stayed in line next to Stevie. She insisted on buying him a cookie, but he split it in half when they found a table in the back corner of the cafeteria, nudging part of it over to her.

She was tense all through lunch, waiting for something to happen.

Billy reached across the table, taking her hand.

“You’re really brave. You know that, right?” She bit her lip.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“I know you are. And honestly, it makes sense you’re scared. But I’m here for you, and if anyone gets fresh, they can fucking catch these hands.” She laughed softly.

“Thank you. I really don’t think I could’ve made it today without you.” She took a shaky breath. “You know, I came out to my parents a few years ago. They were, it was bad. And I had to, you know stay in the closet. And at the end of last year, in like, Novemner I, I went through some stuff, and I just, I snapped. I tried to hurt myself. And I think it really opened my mom’s eyes that, that I wasn’t faking. So she talked my dad into letting me transition.” She was playing with her napkin.

“Thank you for telling me.” Billy squeezed her hand. “We moved here because my dad got arrested. And he wanted to come start fresh.”

“Do you, can I ask why he got arrested?”

“He broke my collarbone. Pushed me down the porch stairs. Our neighbors saw.”

“Billy, oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not really, but I just wanted you to know. I get the shitty parent thing.” She smiled at him.

“Would you, would you want to come over? After school?” Her cheeks were a little flushed.

“I’d love to.”

-

Stevie had neglected to tell him that she lived in a fucking mansion.

Billy stared at it as he parked behind her.

“When the fuck were you gonna tell me you were loaded?” She blushed.

“Um, I kinda forget you’re not from here. That you don’t already know all my business.”

She led him upstairs to her bedroom. It was immaculately clean, but so very plain.

“My mom was real serious about designing our whole house. She’s in the process of redoing my room right now. I mean, I didn’t really mind, but I think she’s trying to make amends, really show me she accepts me.” Billy sat down at her desk as she made a home for herself on the bed.

“That’s pretty cool of her.”

“Yeah. She’s trying. My dad still calls me Alex most days, though.”

“Do you mind if I ask you why you picked Stevie?”

“Um, Stevie Nicks, actually. I just really respect her and I always liked the name.”

“God, my mom loved Fleetwood Mac. She had all their albums on vinyl, and we’d listen to Tusk, and just like, scream it.”

“Your mom sounds nice.” Billy smiled tightly at her.

“She was.” Stevie’s eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry.” Billy shrugged.

“My stepmom’s not too bad. And my little sister’s a hoot. She’s such a little spitfire, you two would so get along.” He sat back in the desk chair, looking at the things on her desk.

There was a jar she had written on with gold sharpie. It had a few bills and was about half full of change. Curling handwriting spelled Pussy Fund. Billy snorted when he saw it. He held it up to her.

“Pussy Fund?” She laughed.

“I was gonna call it the Coochie Collection but that felt a little crass.”

“That felt crass?” She laughed again.

“My dad’s insurance covers hormones, but nothing else, really, so I’m saving up for confirmation surgery.” Billy dug through his pocket, found three wadded bills, slapping them through the little opening in the top of the jar. “Billy, wait, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, come on. It’s three bucks. You’re my only friend in this damn town. Gonna support the garbage outta you.” She beamed at him.

He phone chimed.

“Oh, hell yeah. It’s hormone o’clock.” She pulled a black bag out of her backpack. She rifled through it, loading a syringe. “Okay, I’ll be back.” She closed the bathroom door softly behind her.

He peaked at the contents of the back. She had a few pills, needles in sterile packaging, antiseptic wipes, sanitizer and latex gloves. Billy stood up to look at the little bottle of clear liquid, estrogen.

She smiled brightly when she came out of the bathroom.

“How long have you been on hormones?” She cleaned up her little bag.

“Um, since January 6th. So just about nine months now. I was just on blockers for a while, and then they introduced the estrogen. And I though giving myself shots was gonna be a big nightmare, but I actually kinda like it.”

“I think that makes sense. It’s helping you.”

“Well, and I feel like everything changed so fast, like looking at pictures from before, I look so different. It’s like my body was just waiting to catch up to my brain.”

“I think it was. Just needed a push in the right direction.”

“Plus, I was always kind of a pretty boy. Like, once I figured out how to do my makeup, how to soften some of the edges, it was pretty easy to really feminize my face.” She stood in front of him, showing her a picture on her phone. “That was from like, last October.”

It was a nice selfie, and she looked quite similar. In the image, Stevie’s hair was shorter, but still closer to her shoulders.

But Billy thinks there was a huge difference between the Stevie in the picture, and the Stevie right in front of him.

Her cheeks were fuller now, her eyes brighter. Her hair was long, bu it was also way thicker.

She just looked so much fucking happier.

“You look a lot happier, now.”

“I am. A lot happier.” She was quiet, swiping through a few more old photos.

“I’m happy for you.” Billy reached out for her, touching her waist softly. “Would you, would you want to go on a date sometime?”

She took a step back.

“Look, you can say no, and I’ll still happily be your friend, I just, I like you a lot, Stevie.

“I um, I don’t know.” She sat heavily on her bed. “Last year, I was dating this girl. We had been together for like, a few months, and I really, I really loved her. So I came out to her, and she, she called me a freak, and disgusting, and stuff.” She was hugging herself, looking the floor.

“Is that one of the things that made you snap?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to date, that’s okay, Stevie. Focus on yourself. I’m still your friend.”

“I think, I think I do want to date you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I mean, you already know all my baggage. And I’ve known you for like, ten hours.”

“Don’t pressure yourself into something if you’re not ready to date.”

“It’s been almost a year, Billy. And I’ve spent a lot of time in therapy in that year.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Yeah, I wanna go on a date with you.”

And then she did the cutest little wiggle, moving her hips like she couldn’t contain her excitement.

“Friday night? Pick you up at eight?”

“Better make it seven. Things close early around here.”

“You honestly might be the only good thing about this fucking town.”

[soldrawss]

Ares kids giving percy shit and then they just see... luke... standing in the background... staring at them... and they suddenly decide to leave percy alone, because they 'just FEEL LIKE IT, oKAY???' jhgfgdhfdhggfjghg

Despite what everyone else thinks, Luke is always angry. He just also happens to be really good at hiding it. He probably had his dad to thank for that, being able to redirect and reassure others with a flash of a smile and a wave of his hand to disarm anyone who’d think otherwise. He hardly ever lets his temper get the best of him anymore. He’s too old for that. Too tired to let the little things get under his skin and leave bruises that the world could see. He can’t afford to wear his anger out like tattooed sleeves, the same way Silena Beauregard wore compassion on hers.

And it would be too easy. Too easy to just let his anger for the world and for the gods fuel and feed the hurt bleeding into his rationality and blaming all his problems on everything other than himself. It would be way too fucking easy to go about his days in a blinding rage that left nothing but empty holes in the places that should have held love and forgiveness and all the good he tries so desperately to instill in the younger campers. It wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t help the hurt and it wouldn’t end the suffering. Luke knew this. Luke knew the world didn’t need one more angry, unwanted kid adding that kind of gasoline into the fire. Kronos was wrong, even if his tempted whispers late at night tried so hard to convince him otherwise.

So he hides his anger. Buries it under daily counselor chores and making sure the Stoll brothers don’t get too rowdy during their free time and just keeps busy enough to ignore the pounding tremor in the back of his chest. It works for the most part. It’s easier to smile nowadays, he barely even has to force it anymore, and when he laughs along to campfire stories and songs, it’s something lighthearted and genuine.

But his anger is always right there, like it’s something second hand and lingering. There without him having to reach for it. 

And when he notices Percy get dragged behind the armory by the scruff of his neck by some older kids, he lets that all too familiar anger consume him in seconds. He pushes away from the handful of campers he was monitoring by the amphitheater, ‘Activity’s over. You have free break until lunch’, he calls over his shoulder, and doesn’t wait for a response as he marches his way in the direction of the armory with a speed Hermes would probably be proud of if he ever cared enough to check-in.

Luke doesn’t have special skills or powers like other Demigods. He can’t build things like Beckendorf and he can’t charm speak like Silena and he certainly can’t summon lightning from the heavens like Thalia could. But he was respected and feared in equal measure all the same, and no one could deny that he worked hard to earn the title of the best swordsman in camp. 

His was still a presence that demanded attention and authority. Even if he lets the seven-year-old from the Haphestus cabin ride on his shoulders after breakfast most mornings, or moves over on his already tiny bunk in the dead of night so that little unclaimed Lily Anderson can sleep with him after a bad nightmare.

He was a self-designated older brother to pretty much anyone who needed one, and Luke took a quiet sort of pride to that so many people liked and needed him.

But he was still a threat when he wanted to be.So when he saw Percy on the ground, with a nose bleed that stained the front of his shirt an awful rusty color, all Luke had to do was growl a low, ‘walk away. Now’, and the three boys took off at a sprint. He only vaguely recognized two of them from the Ares cabin and one from Aphrodite, but he didn’t care enough to do more with the information at the moment because Percy was staring up at him with green eyes electric and burning. 

And Luke recognizes those kinds of eyes. They’re the same as his. There's a light like dying stars in them. Angry and terrified and burning with something terrible and so full of single-minded devotion that it has to hurt. And it leaves something aching and red hot in Luke’s stomach when he takes a step forward only for Percy to flinch away out of reflex.

“I’m fine,” Percy said like a knee jerk reaction before Luke could even ask, barking it in a mean and biting way that Luke didn’t take any offense to because he remembers what if felt like to be twelve and have your pride hurt. So Luke doesn’t question it, because Percy is scrappier and stronger than anyone probably ever gave him credit for, and offers a silent hand and the gentlest smile he can muster. Luke does his best to ignore the thumping jolt of anger that vibrates through him when Percy takes it almost immediately and so desperately, like it’s his only lifeline in the world, and wonders what kind of people were in Percy’s life before camp that made him so hungry for a positive human connection. 

Percy apologizes a second later with a horrified expression, jumping out of reach when he notices he got blood on Luke’s hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Let's just get you to the Apollo cabin. Lee keeps a first aid kit and a jar of ambrosia superglued to him at all times after Cecil Markowitz’s third greek fire burn.” The comment was supposed to lighten the mood somewhat, but Percy’s face darkens as he takes a step back from Luke.

“Um, no thanks,” Percy says in almost a pained whisper, hugging his middle and trying to wipe the continuous flow of blood from running down his chin by holding his head back. “It smells too much like the infirmary in there. And I hate the way ambrosia burns down my throat. I’m good, Luke, really.”

And that should have tipped Luke off to some bigger problem, but he can’t concentrate on it because he’s already closing the distance between them faster than Percy could object, and softly pushing the back of Percy’s head down towards the ground. “Pinch here, just above your nostrils, and lean forward unless you want the blood to go down your throat.” He instructs, guiding Percy’s bloodied hand to his nose.

Luke can’t rightly blame Percy for his hesitance. The kid’s first moments of conscious grief since his new life as a half-blood began was spent in the camp infirmary, nursing the pain of losing his mom while also nursing actual physical wounds with acidic nectar and ambrosia that even Luke can attest to growing disgust for after the first few battle wounds of his own. Anyone would have some kind of underlying trauma from that, and Percy didn’t have to outwardly admit how uncomfortable he was at the idea for Luke to understand.

Being a 12-year-old without a mom was hard enough. The problems of a half-blood added on top of that was almost a cruel joke that Luke bitterly couldn’t believe was a reality for most the kids at camp.

“Annabeth used to get into a lot of fights too, I’ve gotten pretty used to fixing noses the old fashioned way. Come on, I have a spare medkit in the combat arena,” Luke says, pressing a hand to Percy’s back, not giving him a chance to escape because dammit, someone had to care for this kid. And Percy doesn’t smile, but something in those sharp green eyes turn leaf like and muted as he lets himself get led from out from behind the armory.

No one really bats an eye towards Percy as they walked, and Luke could only assume it’s because he looks like he’s about to kill anyone that tried with a stone-cold glare that could rival Medusa’s. 

No one was is in the arena when they get there, and Luke instructs Percy to keep the cold washcloth Luke had snagged for him on his nose for about ten minutes, keeping upright to help stop the bleeding. They don’t say anything after that, they just sit on the arena steps and watch the campers from the Demeter cabin try to flip the canoes of some Aphrodite kids with little success, while they wait. 

Luke doesn’t ask any questions on what happened or why, he feels like the answer wouldn’t matter anyway, but Percy eventually softens in the silence between them. Luke pretends he doesn’t notice Percy’s eyes get red and wet as he rubs at them angrily with the palm of his hand.

After about fifteen minutes, and a fresh camp shirt that Luke had given him to replace Percy’s stained one, Percy looked no worse for wear, at least.

“Thanks,” he says softly, like he was thanking Luke for a million things at once, and Luke was all too aware of the crack in his voice and the angry hunch of his shoulders that made him look whole years to young to be angry at the world.

“Don’t thank me just yet, I need your help with something,” Luke decides as he stands up and walks back into arena, not looking back to see if Percy is following him because he knows he is.

“Alright,” he says once they make it to the middle of the dusty pit, holding his hands out in front of his chest and adjusting his stance as Percy looks at him with a doe-eyed curiosity and confusion. “Come at me with all you got.”

Percy frowns, and sniffs once before rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “What? Dude I already got my butt handed to me, I don’t need another nose bleed on top of a few broken bones.”

Luke can’t help but smile at that. “Come on, humor me. I have a few unchecked microaggressions I need to work out and you owe me. I promise I won’t aim for your nose.”

Percy frown deepens, but he sighs like the whole world is weighted on in and gets into a fighting stance of his own, keeping his fists close to his chest.

Now it was Luke’s turn to frown. “Aww dude, you’re breaking my heart here.”

He relaxes his stance and walks over to where Percy stood, dodging the lame attempt of a punch and catching Percy’s fist in the palm of his hand, readjusting Percy’s fingers. “Thumb goes here unless you want to break it. And you wanna keep your fists closer to bottom of your chin.”

Luke uses his own foot to shift Percy’s into a more stable stance. “Feet this far apart and bend your knees, or you’re gonna get knocked down no matter what happens. Try to punch me again.”

Frowning more out of concentration then confusion, Percy took another swing that Luke caught easily and without letting go, pulled it back towards Percy’s shoulder and used his other hand to straighten Percy’s back. “Use these muscles here and punch straight out. You keep swinging too wide and putting all your force behind it, leaving you open.”

He guided Percy’s hand with his own, twisting it slowly in the form of a punch. “You’re gonna feel the bones in your arm want to move this way. Let them and you’ll get more force out of it.”

Percy hummed something like acknowledgment, so Luke let go and retook his stance in front of Percy, mimicking his same posture from before. “Try it again.”

Luke still caught Percy’s fist in his own, but a smile broke his face in two when he, not unkindly, pushed Percy back aways. “A couple more hits like that, and my hand may actually start to hurt, Jackson.”

And the grin that crept upon the twelve-year-olds face was something bright and delighted and outshining the stars as easy as breathing, and Luke soaked in every inch as they continued for the better half of the morning sparing till the lunch horn sounded.

Percy was so much like a younger Luke that is actually scared him, but moments like this, where he knew practical methods of defense would help Percy better than any reassurance that bullies would eventually leave him alone ever could. And Luke knew that Percy wouldn’t be ok with anyone fighting his battles for him, even if it would have been so easy for Luke to channel some of that unchecked rage into beating the ever-living snot out of anyone who looked sideways at Percy again. Just like he knew that Percy wouldn’t ask for help if it wasn’t already freely giving, or that trust was a hard thing to earn when your whole life was built around people burning that bridge before you could ever extend it.

But Luke was prepared for the challenge, and with Percy chatting happily away from underneath where Luke rested his arm across his shoulders as they made their way to the dining Pavillion, Luke could feel the edges of his anger slowly quiet into something barely there. And it’s a feeling that carries him throughout the rest of the day. A feeling that he wants to bottle up and keep on a shelf whenever he wants to forget what hating the world feels like.

Because if it feels like it’s worth it just to keep kids like Percy smiling for the rest of forever, well then, Luke could handle forgiving some of his anger, and letting his heart rest on his sleeves just a little bit more.

[one-winged-dreams]

Yo, I’m Adri, I’m 27 and I never learned how to fucking read.

I’m a demi/queer dude (he/him), and I just really like rowdy boys who like to fight (with the occasional divergence).

Here is my pronouns page.

The actual love of my life is King Varian Wrynn from World of Warcraft. He is my forever Main and my most important F/O, so I tend to prioritize him the most.

Also I’m in a long term relationship with the OTHER actual love of my life, @self-ship-manifest​.

I’m mentally ill (bipolar disorder, GAD, ect) and disabled (fibromyalgia, chronic pain, chronic fatigue, ect), so sometimes I run out of spoons really quickly and kind of shut up for a while. I’m totally cool with sharing f/os, and I’m more than happy to talk to people who are into the same source materials. Tbh I’m also more than happy to talk to people who’s source material I know jack shit about.

Anyway, here’s a list of my romantic f/os

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann

 Viral [kiss me you animal]

BNHA

Kendo Rappa [all this violence makes a statement]

Rikiya Katsukame

Shouta Aizawa [but not as much as i do]

Kingdom Hearts

Xigbar/Braig [take out the gunman]

Bleach

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez [wild heart]

Kensei Muguruma [blow me away]

Shuhei Hisagi [tell me you’d like boys like me better]

Mass Effect

Kal'Reegar [cosmic kiss]

[Prototype]

Alex Mercer [infect me with your love]

Funamusea

Idate [you’re awful i love you]

Elder Scrolls

Odahviing

Sotha Sil [your god knows his faithful]

Neramo

Falaandial Athious [love me dead]

Lucien Lachance [killing me softly]

Transformers

Shockwave [you’re appealing to emotions that i simply do not have]

Soundwave [rhythm of my life]

Skywarp

Sky Lynx

Fallout

Nick Valentine [valentine be mine]

Fire Force

Karim Flam [melting in your eyes]

Akitaru Obi [burning for you]

Charon [burn it down]

Soul Eater

Mifune [you’ll never be alone again]

Giriko

Pokemon

Grimsley

The Seven Deadly Sins

Ban [i want you for a lifetime]

Neopets

Kass

Tokyo Ghoul

Naki [love me mercilessly]

One Piece

Roronoa Zoro [if you are the shores i am the waves]

Smoker [worse than nicotine]

Eustass Kid [bring home the boys and scrap metal]

Killer [love is a weapon]

(pending) Charlotte Katakuri

King

Final Fantasy

Azul [kiss of a beast]

(pending) Barret Wallace

Naruto

Kakuzu

FLCL

Canti [electroheart]

Mega Man

Teisel Bonne

Lobotomy Corporation

Netzach [the angel from my nightmare]

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary

Friday the 13th

Jason Voorhees  [baby’s got a thirst for blood]

Dead By Daylight

Evan MacMillan [fear and delight]

Burn The Witch

Bruno Bangnyfe [i see magic in your eyes]

World of Warcraft

Varian Wrynn [king and lionheart]

Khadgar

Kargath Bladefist

Rinling

Lor'themar Theron

Blood of Zeus

Apollo

Ares

Hellsing

Alucard [unheavenly creatures]

Digimon

Beelzemon [digital love]

Mob Psycho 100

Megumu Koyama

Ryo Shimazaki

Fullmetal Alchemist

Solf J. Kimblee

Frank Archer

MCU

Heimdall

League of Legends

Thresh [paid for traded and sold]

Pyke [rolling down in the deep]

Void Verse

Howl [angel wings to dust]

Samael [in love with my own sins]

OCxCanon Ships

Bleach

 Aquileo Calderón x Aaroniero Arruruerie [electric love]

BNHA

 Ayumu Ungaikyo x Shouta Aizawa [but not as much as i do]

 Kokan Kenzen x Rikiya Katsukame

The Seven Deadly Sins

 Adoel x Galand

The Elder Scrolls

Falaandial Athious x Fennorian

[marginal-notes]

TLOK Episode One a.k.a. Korra immediately goes on a rampage

So, as mentioned, I’m finally getting around to watching The Legend of Korra with all of my terrible tastes and general thoughts. 

Don’t give me spoilers, my indignation will be funnier without them. 

What I Know About Korra Going In:

If the show can have all of Aang’s bending teachers still around for the audience’s nostalgic pleasure, Suki better be alive and kicking too or I am going to throw a fit

Technology progressed pretty intensely in ways that I will want to pick apart later

Listen, what the fuck is Republic City. Why. Why does this exist. Show you better answer me fast with why this exist for a legitimate in world reason that isn’t just: “The audience is a bunch of American kids and teenagers and we want to uphold the liberal ideals of democracy because of course that’s the motives of the victors after a global war of probably unprecedented scope despite like, Zero (0) indication that the idea of democracy was rattling around anyone’s heads in ATLA.” 

If this is the reason, I’m going to quit watching. Disgraceful. Disgusting.

Something involving anti-bender sentiment.

Something involving something called the Red Lotus which I am side-eyeing the shit out of 

Bloodbending?????

Spirit World shenanigans and Avatar backstory that’s on thin ice with me. 

Love triangles. UGH. TERRIBLE. WHY DOES MEDIA DO THIS. WHO FINDS THIS INTERESTING. PLEASE RAISE YOUR HAND SO YOU CAN EXPLAIN TO ME. 

Alright, here we go. 

WELL, 30 SECONDS IN AND I GOT MY WISH FOR AN EXPLAINATION ABOUT REPUBLIC CITY.

Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko transformed the Fire Nation colonies into the United Republic of Nations, a society where benders and nonbenders from all over the world could live and thrive together in peace and harmony.

Okay. I’m.... I’m going to withhold judgement for now until I watch like, literally more than 30 seconds to fully form my thoughts about this move. I THINK IT’S A DUMB MOVE AND IF THIS IS WHY PEOPLE KEEP HAVING FIRE NATION DEMOCRACY FICS I QUIT.

So. We get a panning shot into this city. Very urban city that’s the product of the industrialization and like whatever the hell that propaganda voice over is talking about. 

As a method of setting the scene and immediately letting the viewers feel and know the passage of time between ATLA and TLOK, I love this shot. There’s no mistaking this for being immediately after ATLA. We’re listening to one of Aang’s kids. There are skyscrapers. The Fire Nation palace in ATLA probably counted towards the architectural development towards urban skyscrapers, but that architecture is fully formed by TLOK. Brilliant. 

I'm the Avatar! You gotta deal with it!

What a cute brat. Her poor parents, oh my god. 

Also, is she supposed to be a prodigy. 

Again with immediately setting contrasts against ATLA. Very cool demonstration, extremely effective distinction between Aang’s journey around the world trying to find teachers and learning how to bend in the middle of a war vs. Korra at peacetime with a whole entire facility dedicated to her. 

Not sure about how I feel regarding the White Lotus’s presence. 

IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE KATARA????

That's your grandmother, Meelo.

Does he not visit his parents. It can’t be that hard to swing by for like. Yearly festivals if the Water Tribe has those. I don’t see why not. Maybe something for when the winter night ends, I can see that being festive. 

Tenzin do you like. Not call? Not write?? Sir???

Oh my god, Pema. I hope she really likes kids, despite how rowdy they are. 

Wait. How old is Tenzin. Thirties to forties? 

How old is Katara. 

Is this going to be a repeat of the Fire Nation royal miracle babies. 

I get that, but I don't think keeping me locked up in this compound like a prisoner is what he had in mind.

Going by the episode title, I bet we know what Korra has in mind. Speaking of this compound, where’s the Southern Tribe? The aerial shots look like it’s in the middle of nowhere. Is she so far removed that she doesn’t even spend time with the tribe she was born into? Cause that sure as hell wasn’t how Aang was raised. 

Honestly fascinating as these contrasts keep coming. The bizarre presence of the White Lotus. The way her teachers come to her instead of her seeking her teachers the way Aang and Roku did. 

The Avatar must have always been a special political figure, without any good contemporaries to our world, to be honest. Back in ATLA, we see that Roku isn’t beholden to Fire Nation citizenship - he seems to transcend that. And it honestly seems important that Roku and Aang went out to the world, experienced the other nations and their ways of life. I think Aang does have a line regarding this. 

Because Korra’s situation? Can easily turn into a nightmare, given the realities of what being the Avatar could easily mean. 

OKAY THIS SHIP. Very cool looking, very neat, I continue to love every visual manifestation of the passage of time between ATLA and TLOK. One small question. What’s with the rigging poles. 

(source)

To be fair, this is a battleship from the British navy, but aesthetically I think we can say this is a fair inspiration. From what I remember while researching the coal fic, the rigging and poles there serve no function. It’s aesthetical. At best, there’s a limited function, but it’s predominantly for aesthetics in the transition into the ships like the Titanic with no rigging at all. 

Which raises my question about WHY ON EARTH?? The Fire Nation navy in ATLA??? Were clearly way past this stage in design? Literally during Sozin’s time too??? Almost two hundred years before this current shot in TLOK? Why would the ship design regress like this??? The Water Tribe ships probably wouldn’t evolve into the designs that Europe used? Earth Kingdom ships would probably be more inspired by East Asian designs which also wouldn’t end up with this system for sails? 

Where does this aesthetic come from. 

IS THAT A CAR. 

....

.......

..........

I am not qualified at all for dissecting the potential social and cultural explanation for the western influenced aesthetics appearing. I am but an ignorant banana, I don’t know shit. 

.......

oooooooh this is going to slowly annoy me isn’t it.......... 

That will be twenty yuans.

[Jaws theme]

The city's huge. I bet we could find a place to rustle up something to eat.

You know, I’ve seen plenty of weird shit in Central Park and around NYC before. Korra, you are so unprepared.  

Are you tired of living under the tyranny of benders? Then join the Equalists!

Oh boy. Let’s.... let’s put a pin in this thought. I’ll come back to it once I know more about what’s going on. Because. This will either be fun. Or I’m going to have to create a second spite fic folder. Please, show, don’t give me reason to create a second spite fic folder. 

On a different note though, I really do love the choices so far for setting up this show’s forward path. There’s no way to mistake this as a rerun of ATLA. This is it’s own separate story and I love that. I really do respect that. The way the different threads are emerging feel really smooth: 1) the impact of Korra’s isolation towards her culture shock in the giant city - which must smell and sound REALLY weird to her; 2) her prodigious talent in the physical, exciting parts of bending meshing with her teenage nature and also clashing with the spiritual parts of being the World Bridge; 3) the absolute hot bed of chaos every part of Republic City must be. 

Kinda funny that people would still have sideburns in the same style as from like. Seventy years ago. Vintage. 

Mr. Chung, please tell me that you have my money, or else I can't guarantee I can protect your fine establishment.

My terrible taste in interests rears its head again. Listen, you cannot imply something like the mafia or the triads exist in universe and not have me immediately ALL OVER THAT. Republic City, you are such a mess. Like, for this alone, I might write a single fic for TLOK that’s just about trash collection and disposal. And corruption. And- 

I am fascinated by the genetics and molecular/cellular biology behind the yellow and white eyes in this universe. 

Police! Freeze where you are!

Bitch what the fuck. How many of these rigid airships are part of the police. Are all of them for the police? Are the police literally patrolling people from the sky? 

Also, that better be helium in those ships instead of hydrogen by this point in time. I’ve already made my post about the fleet of hydrogen ships in Sozin’s Comet. 

How much property damage is being inflicted thanks to these couple minutes. The police just. Stab the brick work. There have got to be so many bitchy lawsuits about that. 

This poor girl’s culture shock. 

HEY I HOPE THAT POLICE OFFICER SWUNG THEMSELF ON A CLOTHLINE, NOT AN ELECTRIC LINE LIKE I FIRST THOUGHT. 

HEY YOU CAN RIP SOMEONE’S SCALP OFF LIKE THAT. 

HEY WHAT IS WITH THIS WHOLE SCENE. 

HOW ARE THEY JUST RIDING ON THOSE WIRES, HOW MUCH TENSION IS IN THAT STUFF. 

HOW DOES THAT ZEPPLIN MOVE THAT FAST AND LIKE. AGILE. 

YALL. 

WHY DOES THE POLICE STATION LOOK LIKE THAT

Well then, why are you treating me like a criminal? Avatar Aang and your mother were friends. They saved the world together.

Oh this bit is fascinating, I love it. It’s only been 18 minutes, but the level of sheer propaganda everywhere trailing after Aang is really cool. There’s so much I want to know now about how Aang got from the end of ATLA, where he probably wasn’t thinking AT ALL about this kind of cult legacy forming around him, to this. 

Lin Beifong’s shut down of Korra’s attempt to use her status as Avatar is great. Just because Korra’s born into this elite role and then locked up and probably pampered in her compound, where everyone is well aware of her status and what it means, it doesn’t mean she gets to strut around with no idea how stuff works or the context behind what she’s seeing and then doing whatever she wants. 

Contrasts, love ‘em. 

On a different note, the design of this room. 

As far as I can tell, it’s a dim, doorless room, which is honestly. Really terrible design. And it says something about the way the Republic City police functions and how that reflects on the chaos of the city itself. 

Putting someone dragged into the police station in a dim room without any door as a sign of a possible escape is just a terrible idea. The only thing you’re going to succeed in is making the person tenser and more belligerent. Your suspect or witness gets more nervous, gets more combative, gets more unreliable in this kind of environment. In turn, the police probably starts feeling more and more entitled to harsher retaliation. Conflict resolution? De-escalation? That really doesn’t look like its in the core of the city police. They’re wearing armor for god’s sake. 

Everything so far in this first impression of the police is really damning about their attitude and Lin Beifong’s leadership. Rather than using a rappel line down from the airships, they damage buildings. In chasing Korra, they further damage property. The armor, this freaking room. The fact that so much about the active police shown so far depends on metalbending, which implies that very few people can join the field police. The fact that for the gang to be so blatantly in the open about their presence and territory, there must be dirty cops on their payroll. 

There has to be so much Lin Beifong hate in this city. 

I have done my best to guide Republic City toward the dream my father had for it, but you're right. It has fallen out of balance since he passed.

If anyone tries convincing me Republic City was ever in “balance” they’re a punk ass liar. I don’t think the city could have ever been in balance, whatever that is. The way it was created, the speed it expanded, the life that must be lived there - balance? Don’t kid me with that propaganda. 

Tenzin could be trying to find a balance alright. I just wonder how many people vehemently disagree with his idea of balance. 

Hello? I'm Korra, your new Avatar.

Well, TLOK is definitely in the era of mass distribution of news and the idea of public sentiment at a level never seen before. This is going to be very interesting for its populist implications, along with other developments regarding politics. 

Oh Korra. Did no one try rehearsing this with you? This is a terrible first impression for you to give to people. 

Also, what is this building. Is this like a city hall? Why is the roof on the building to the side slanted like that. That’s an angle I’d expect from like. Snow concerns. In northern Europe. 

Love that Avatar Aang propaganda. Starting to feel like we’re going to see a lot of it going forward. 

Oh my god, everything about this press briefing (?) is highly concerning. This rampaging teenager suddenly appearing without any warning or announcement. The clear lack of script or practice. The open location just to anyone instead of to a select set of journalists who would be sympathetic/under government control. Lin fucking Beifong and Tenzin being the only people accompanying Korra on the stage. 

What a disaster. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

You know, I’m enjoying this more than I expected to. The general writing is great, the use of visuals and other small details to set the time and place is excellent, the worldbuilding implications are rich in potential. I’m looking forward to exploring where the plot threads introduced so far will lead towards!

[p1nkwitch]

For the writing asks: 3, 5, 6, and 14?

3- What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Oh this- listen i have an entire universe for this whole thing with several branching timelines.

Its originally planned with an oc that i have that i ship with Elias and Peter. But im not going to put her here, cause that implies writing the entire thing with her in it and-

Well its a lot. Like its seriously a lot.

So to simplify the whole thing I'm going to omit her.

Anyways this universe in particular-

I love this verse.

Jon is having an existential crisis.

Which for him its not new, but this is taking the cake perhaps for all the wrong reasons he can think of.

His day started normal, then it got bad when Martin was gone with Peter Lukas. He had been about to confront them, talking with Elias first-

But the next thing he knew is that they were no longer there.

Elias, Peter, Martin and himself were all sprawled out in some backyard.

The noise seemed to attract attention from someone inside the house, he was about to try and defend himself saying he didn't mean to break in-

When the person that opens the door is no one else than Elias himself. A few more grey hairs along, but still absolutely him. He checks with the one next to him to confirm that yes it is a double. And not the stranger. He doesn't have-

He-

Jon would admit that he panicked, because where beholding should be, there was nothing.

Twenty minutes later has the five of them in the living room. His-

God he doesn't want to call him his Elias. So he would go for Elias and the other is just other Elias.

Is giving the older looking one an impressive glare.

“So…. When are you from exactly?” This was building up to be a nightmare.

Elias and Martin start to ask questions and the man winces before shushing them.

“Not so loud, you will wake him” That makes everyone look confusedly at him.

“Wake who?”

“My-” Steps can be heard from the stairs.

“Dad?”

Jon is really losing it.

A boy, couldn't be more than… 5? Is looking at them holding a seal plushie. There is something very familiar about him.

Black hair, pale skin, light blue eyes and freckles-

Jon slowly turns around to look at Peter and has another startling revelation.

“Its ok Simon, i have visitors and they got rowdy” The boy looks at them and seems to become smaller and smaller, he darts to the older Elias and starts to make hand signs, that he seems to get.

“I- ok, ok, yes, no. He will be back in a little bit with your sisters-”

Sisters??!!

Elias, the one he came with is looking more and more perturbed and lost. So its not only him.

“Ok, let me take you up, if you gentleman can wait without destroying the place…” He raises an eyebrow like a disappointed parent and despite being 30 years old and knowing he is a piece of shit, Jon can't help but slide back on his seat and nod.

His life is a bloody nightmare.

Other Elias picks up his-

His son

And goes up while talking to him. The child clings to his neck and hides his face there.

Other scene.

“What do you mean the powers are gone???”

“Mm, i mean that they are gone, i tried my ritual and my version of Jon just- did something and especially it cut off every last single avatar from the entities. The leading theory is that new avatars can be made, but those from before? We just cant use them anymore. Its the main reason why Peter’s family is convinced that Simon can help them bring back the lonely. The amount of times we had to keep them from kidnapping him its impressive”

“My- excuse me what???” Peter looks scandalized, his family would not-

“Peter… Do you think they would just take your kid if they thought that it would help them along with forsaken?” The other Elias gives him a tired and somewhat rueful look.

It sets something off in him so he looks to his Elias. He nods lightly and it makes him-

Angry? Being here is throwing him off.

The lonely… he can’t feel it, it's not muffling his feelings and its making him feels off.

5- What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

I would say... Peter? I was rather lonely as a child and preteen until i met my best friend. Too weird and my siblings and i got along, but we have a 10 year age gap difference so they had their own stuff to do. That made me be on my own a lot and explore around the house. His statement just hits right with me and i love to write him because of it.

I am also very anxious with people. If i know you i will have no issue, but alone and with strangers? I would rather disappear in a cloud of smoke. Peter is cheerful despite the lonely or maybe because of it. So i get being lonely too and identify with him.

Also when i do write him? Tim. Happy and cares a lot about a small group of people that he is close with? Loves his friend but can be mean?

I adore him.

Elias or Jon because i crave knowing stuff and deal with impostor syndrome about my achievements a lot so yeah!

Still its mainly the lonely sailor.

6- What character do you have the most fun writing?

Elias, but because i get to explore a lot of things and play around with him. He is fun to put in situations that are out of his control, or perhaps make him deal with feelings that he has repressed a long time.

He is my stress ball for writing.

Also i love his reactions to some of the things i put him though, making horny Elias always cracks me up.

Peter has a similar effect when I want to deal with some family dynamics and what it means to be lonely as i said before.

Mm also i want to write some Gerry but i need to wait a little bit longer for that ;)

14-At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

Except for like 4 fics?

Its the last thing i put, i literally have to come up with one just as im about to post the story on ao3. And its usually whatever I can scrounge up from the story or a lyric line that i like and feel that fits.

I suck at naming stuff and giving summaries.

Everything i do name, is a reference to something else usually so titles are the pain of my existence.