#also i'm really sorry i lied about not doing another song fic

[hl-obsessed]

✨ FIC REC ✨ | 10-30k

•°•°•°•°•°•

Snowed In by @germericangirl

(E, 15k) Harry wants to fly back home to London after visiting his family for the holidays but a snow storm causes his flight to get cancelled. What happens if the hotel only has one room left for him and the beautiful blue eyed stranger?

✨ Running Home To You by sincewewereeighteen

(E, 18k) Harry can’t help but look at his iTunes library. What he did not expect was to see his name there: Harry Styles, and a half-played album. He has to ask.

“What’s that you were listening to?”

“Oh, it’s this guy, uh- Harry Styles?”

“Hm. Is he any good? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“He’s proper famous, isn’t he?” Louis smirks. “He’s good, believe it or not. Many people don’t give credit to teenage girls, but I don’t regret listening to him.”

“D’you have a favorite?”

“You’ve probably heard Sign of the Times, because everyone’s heard this song…” Louis checks his screen. “Don’t know. This is the best one musically speaking. But there’s something about this one,” he points at his screen, “From the Dining Table. It’s just so sad. Makes one wonder what this guy went through.”

“That tough?”

“Sad.” Louis replies. “Anyways. Don’t be prejudiced and give the pop star a listen. He’s really talented.”

OR: the one in which Harry and Louis take the same plane, and even though they're both sort of nomads, they end up finding a home in each other.

give you my fever by @thelovejandles

(E, 10k) x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night) by @fallinglikethis @all-these-larrythings

(M, 15k) Louis accepts the call without bothering to look at the caller ID. Only Zayn would be a big enough asshole to call him at two in the morning. This fucking better be important.

“This fucking better be important,” Louis greets.

On the other end of the line comes a soft giggle. “Li, you don’t usually curse. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like it.”

 Yeah, that’s not Zayn. Louis sighs, his anger melting into resignation when he realizes that it’s some poor bastard probably drunk dialing his ex or something. “Sorry, mate. Think you’ve got the wrong number."

Based on this Tumblr prompt: "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au"

sweet, where you lay by @infinitelymint

(E, 27k) Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-eight year old succesful actor living in New York. Harry Styles is a twenty year old up and coming model and coincidentally also the one who turns Louis’ world completely upside down.

or, Louis is Zachary Quinto and Harry is Miles McMillan. Falling in love was always in the cards for them.

stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) by @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 12k) Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

✨ i'm a captain on a jealous sea by @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 15k) It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.

Except.

What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.

✨ some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 25k) Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

*

Three years after their break up, Harry calls.

In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 13k) It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left.

He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile.

It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received.

Harry: Hello!

Harry: Thank you for swiping right

Harry: I have a proposition for you

Treat You Like A Gentleman by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 12k) 5 times that Harry Styles was unsatisfied by his dates, and one time Louis Tomlinson helped him find what he had been missing.

Sweet as Honey by TeamLouis

(E, 21k) Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.

✨💎 To Have Touched the Sun by @ireallysawanangel

(E, 12k) Louis has been taking suppressants ever since he first presented as an omega, and because of that, he has his heats dwindled down to just once a year. When he suddenly goes into heat in the middle of a supermarket only two months after just having one, he immediately knows something is wrong. It takes the act of a very kind stranger in that supermarket to change Louis' life forever.

Losing Focus Every Time You Speak by @causticsunshine

(E, 19k) “Harry,” he starts, his tone cautious, “what’s this I’m seeing?”

A roll of Harry’s shoulder and the thing catches the light again. “Hm? I dunno what you’re talking about, Lou,” he replies, voice suddenly strained.

Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“This,” Louis reiterates as clearly as he can—by abruptly spreading Harry’s cheeks as much as he can through the confines of his knickers, in turn causing Harry to grunt and Louis to reveal a, fuck, a small bubblegum-pink gem in the shape of a heart, rimmed by a sliver of silver, “you remember now?”

“Oh.” All faux innocence. Louis removes his hands as Harry slowly pulls himself back up, a little red-faced and with a chunky throw in hand. “That? It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Louis repeats, trying for gentle surprise.

Louis returns from an impromptu work trip and enjoys some long-awaited alone time with his favorite person. Lace knickers and a princess plug might have a role to play in things.

✨💎 Eyes on the Horizon by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 12k) Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up. His younger and extremely fit instructor Louis makes him even more nervous than the idea of jumping out of a plane, but both may be exactly what he needs to turn his life around.

Waste the Night by @wicked-archer

(E, 12k) Harry is excited to finally see his favourite band in concert and his favourite person, the guitarist of the band, Louis Tomlinson. Little does he know what the night has in store for him.

✨ Prelude to Forever by @always-aqua

(M, 13k) @StylinHarry: So I kinda fell for a boy yesterday at #ChiPride. Kissed & fireworks went off. Literally. He’s a drama teacher. Goes by “Louis” but I prefer Sunshine. Very pretty. The prettiest. Got separated & I’m a fucking idiot who forgot to get his number. Anyone know him? #helpfindsunshine

Or, Louis and Harry meet at Pride in Chicago and spend the day falling for each other before getting accidentally separated.

Be Mine? by @softfonds

(E, 11k) Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it. But a sign Zayn brings manages to turn his night around in more ways than he hoped for.

Blinded by the Colors by @fallinglikethis

(M, 20k) After a heated fight with Harry, a maudlin, inebriated Louis Tomlinson questions his presence in his boyfriend's life. In fact, maybe all of One Direction would be better off if Louis had never been put in the band to begin with.

He never expected to wake up in a world where that's exactly what happened.

Or an It's A Wonderful Life Au where Louis Tomlinson realizes just how important he really is.

✨ Keep Me Closer by @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Moonlight Minx by @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 15k) The one where an unexpected storm strands Harry on an island, Louis gets an unexpected house guest for the night, and love might just be the most unexpected thing of all.

Love On Air by @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 19k) The one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

✨ Every heart but mine by @rainblou

(E, 17k) In the years leading up to his presentation, Harry hoped that his soulmark would appear, that his soulmate would present first and Harry would have irrevocable proof that his other half was out there, waiting for him.

Years later, he's given up on waiting and with a heat coming up, his eyes are set on Louis Tomlinson to help him through it.

redamancy by @yu-taeil

(G, 10k) dystopian au.

Harry lives in a world where, at the age of 18, everyone gets paired up with a life mate, a perfectly compatible partner. When Harry gets Liam Payne as his soul mate, he thinks nothing of it. It must be true love, right?

But then he meets Louis Tomlinson, a 19 year old who is already partnered up. Harry starts to fall for Louis, and it is not unrequited, but it is against the law.

Harry had always known he’d end up breaking some rules, he just hadn’t quite imagined the magnitude of them.

Sooner or Later by orphan_account

(T, 12k) Louis suspected he might have a little crush. It was harmless enough. It wasn't as if he were any sort of threat to his sister's relationship with Harry, was it?

✨💎 I Just Wanna Give You Love by @lululawrence

(NR, 18k) Graham Norton appeared on the screen introducing his guests and out of nowhere, everything in Louis’ world was turned upside down.

Louis gasped as he intently took in the man on the screen, smiling and waving from his seat beside Sir Ian McKellen.

“Oh my God,” Louis said before it all sank in as to what it meant. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Louis William, you watch your mouth,” Jay said. “What has got into you?”

Feeling like a madman, his palms to his cheeks, Louis couldn’t help the tears of surprise, relief, and fear as he turned to his mum. “What colour are his eyes? What do you call that colour?”

“Louis, are you telling me that the man on the screen, Harry Styles, is your soulmate?”

Or the one where the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate, but Harry is world famous and Louis is...well...not.

Where Life Changed Us by ExiledQueenCatalog

(E, 22k) Omega Harry has a rare genetic disorder where he has no sense of smell. This has lots of odd effects such as him not being able to smell his own scent but most brutally, not being able to scent the way his inner omega desires. It also leaves him as a sort of odd-ball to the community, leaving him becoming touch starved as no one wants the omega who can’t scent. Until finally, he meets the right alpha.

Hint: I want to be yours by @greenblueish

(M, 11k) or, the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

We Don't Need No Piece of Paper (From the City Clerk) by @2tiedships2

(M, 26k) Harry sat on his bed and stared at the pile of luggage by the door. This was really happening. He was being shipped off to America to get married.

In a matter of months, he would be bonded to an alpha his father had chosen for him. Someone that Harry knew nothing about. Not even his name.

Party Lines by @absoloutenonsense

(E, 25k) Louis works for a phone-sex operating company, collecting credit card information and transferring calls to different operators. On a particularly busy night, everyone is booked up, and one caller has been patiently waiting for more than a few minutes. In a split second decision –one he’s probably going to regret– Louis picks up the call himself.

*

Or Louis accidentally becomes a phone sex operator.

Losing That Reactive Spark by @crazyupsetter

(E, 11k) Prompt 73: ABO fic where Louis is cursed. He can’t touch anyone without a spark of electricity going through his body, causing him to blackout. He meets Harry, the only one the curse doesn’t work on for some reason.

(Gimme a Solution and) Watch Me Run With It by @lululawrence

(NR, 21k) This second, this minute, this hour, this day... hell, this week the trend was for Harry to feel overwhelmed. He was having a hard time not drowning in all of the responsibilities he had heaped upon himself and it had exhausted him. Beyond that, really. He had gotten to the point where he didn't even remember why he used to be so focused on getting back on stage every night.

Fine. Maybe this trend had been going on for even longer than a week. It might have even been months.

Harry is getting dangerously close to his breaking point, and that is when things start to change, starting with a favorite childhood sweet a member of the touring crew leaves for him in his dressing room.

Catching a Partner by berzerkshires

(M, 25k) This documentary follows the story of two people who fell in love in the last place you'd expect. Louis is a detective at the Boston Police Department investigating a trail of recent murders. Harry is the latest victim who survived an attempted murder and is sent to live at a safe house with Detective Tomlinson as the killer is still at large.

This is their story.

No Place I'd Rather Be by @iamasphodelknox

(E, 29k) Harry's had a crush on his stepfather's friend for six years. A small crush. A tiny crush.

Honestly, if you don't look at Harry's dozens of poems about Louis Tomlinson, the crush is practically infinitesimal. They haven't even had a conversation.

But then a car wreck prompts them to finally have a conversation.

Christmas works its magic, Harry pines, Louis fonds, and they just might make it.

baby shut your mouth and turn me inside out by ballsdeepinjesus

(E, 10k) Harry and Louis meet in a mcdonalds. louis is everything harry needs.

The Joke's Always On The Joker, Baby by @greenfeelings

(M, 16k) It’s all about an anonymous one-night stand that turns Harry and Louis’ lives into a rom-com cliché, provides Liam with the perfect opportunity to finally approach the man of his dreams, and confirms Niall that he’s always right.

Hold You With My Hands Tied by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 12k) "There’s a club in town called Habit, and they’re looking for a bartender to cover evenings and weekends. No previous experience required."

Harry furrows his brows. He’s never been to Habit, but he certainly knows what type of club it is. BDSM.

It’s not the ideal position for an Omega surely, but beggars can’t be choosers he supposes. He tilts his head to the side. “And they would be ok with an Omega filling that role?”

Janet scans her eyes over the job description before nodding. “Yes, actually it says here Omegas are preferred but not required.”

Harry sighs.

“When do I start?”

(Or the one where Omega Harry loses his bakery job and is forced to take a temporary position bartending at a local BDSM club. It turns out to be not so bad. Especially when he catches the eye of the owner Louis, who also happens to be a gorgeous Alpha).

if you show up there then you know I will too by @harrybirthdaytoya

(M, 11k) Everyone in Louis' life keeps getting married, but he's almost 30 and single. (He's also grumpy about it). Harry sings in a wedding band, and Louis may have a bit of a crush.

I've Always Liked the Fireworks by QuickedWeen

(T, 12k) When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be.

The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.

Hold My Heart by Awriterwrites, phdmama

(E, 14k) Or, the one where famous Louis Tomlinson offers his hand and a lot more to his seat mate on a transatlantic flight.

Torn On The Platform by conscious-ramblings

AU where harry and louis are strangers but they always get the same train to work in the morning and one day harry falls asleep on louis’ shoulder. louis wants to be annoyed because harry just broke a least seven rules of tube conduct but he looks so soft and peaceful that he just lets him sleep and wakes him ever so carefully when it’s his stop. it happens again and again until it becomes a regular thing where louis will let harry snooze and then gently nudge him awake, hand him the cup of coffee he took from him so it wouldn’t slip and spill everywhere and send him off with a “have fun at work, love” and after the tenth time harry isn’t even embarrassed anymore.

Cue changing work schedules, missing each other for the first time in weeks, panicking because “i don’t even know his name, why didn’t i ask for his name”, dramatic waiting on platforms and finally bumping into each other again when they least expect it

✨💎 Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 23k) The day after turning eighteen, Omega Prince Harry is expected to meet with eligible Alpha suitors. It's a day he's been looking forward to all his life, desperate for romance and yearning to find his mate.

What he doesn't expect to find, however, is that he's one half of a historic soul-tied union: a phenomenon last seen over a century ago. Luckily, his future mate is everything he ever dreamed of finding.

But... that's just the problem. Louis makes Harry feel things he's never felt before and has no way to describe. He knows that once they're married, he and Louis are meant to mate, but what that actually entails is a mystery…

Who better to ask about these feelings than his mate-to-be?

AKA: A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.

The way you move for me baby (lights me up like nobody else) by @thechavier

(M, 12k) Those green eyes found him again and he struggled thinking of what to say.

"You look beautiful in that dress" It's what he landed on. (...) "You know I wrote a song back in the day called little black dress?"

He didn't imagine the little spark in his eyes, nor the pleased smirk on his lips, nor the tongue peeking out to wet them.

"Why do you think I chose it for tonight?"

or the rolling stones awards au

Talk Dirty To Me by BriaMaria

(E, 13k) Or the one where Harry is absolutely terrible at dirty talk so he asks his best friend to teach him. And the one where Louis knows it's a catastrophically bad idea but agrees anyway.

Because Sparrows Mate For Life by @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome

(E, 24k) Harry’s tattoo gets done all wrong, and he needs someone to fix it.

Bend Like a Hairpin by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 26k) Or the one where FBI agent Harry Styles screws up in a mission and he has one more chance to save his career. He’s going undercover as a stripper to investigate a strip club suspected of money laundering. There’s just 2 problems: 1) Harry can’t dance, and 2) he might be falling for the club’s owner Louis, who just happens to be the prime suspect.

Celebrity Discount by @loaded-gunn

(T, 27k) Louis fell for Prince Harry when he was ten and Harry was eight and peeked behind the Queen’s elegant gown for his first public appearance—a shy smile and a mess of curls. He fell for him when he caught Lottie putting up a magazine cover of Harry on her wall and all she had to say for herself was, “He’s such a good person, yeah?” and, yeah. He fell for him when Harry gracefully accepted his demotion. He fell for him when Harry came out and stayed out.

tonight's not over (come over and stay) by @adoredontour

(E, 17k) Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?”

Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password.

“No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?”

“Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis.

“Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?”

or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

where sirens fear to tread by @stylinsoncity

(M, 28k) in the royal line, there are only a select few sirens with the ability to transform into humans once a month. harry is one of those sirens. he mostly sticks to the rules. when he's on land, he reads his books. he buys copious amounts of ice cream. he keeps to himself. that is until he meets a lifeguard named louis working at one of the luxury resorts on St Barts. and unfortunately, harry doesn't know the rules about falling in love at all.

✨💎 When The Stars Come Out by @briannamarguerite

(E, 30k) Louis was about to reassure Harry further when Gemma bounded back over to him, slipping a hand around Louis' waist. Harry’s eyes followed the movement. And then that lip gnaw again. Christ. How was he supposed to survive this weekend?

He turned his attention to Gemma as her palm came to rest right above his heart. Laying it on a bit thick, dear. Or at least that’s what he hoped he’d conveyed with the simple tilt of an eyebrow.

In response, she went up on tiptoes and laid a noisy kiss on the hollow beneath his cheekbone. Louis didn’t take his eyes off Harry, who watched the scene play out with a blank expression. Once Gemma dropped back to the ground, Harry shifted away from them, his gaze dropping to his feet.

[Or the one where Louis pretends to be Gemma's boyfriend for her horrid cousin's wedding but fate is a nasty jerk and throws Harry in his way.]

•°•°•°•°•°•

part 1 (+50k) | part 2 (30-50k)

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Get to Know Me tag

Ultimate Addition

Been tagged with multiple versions of this. Will do this all in one.

And maybe this will be the definitive version.

Thanks to: @herrmannhalsteadproduction here, @sleepywriter00 here, @mk-writes-stuff here and here, @dyrewrites here, @infinnative here, @buffythevampirelover here, and @mysticstarlightduck here.

Tagging @illarian-rambling @gottestod-writes @cowboybrunch @blind-the-winds @uninspired-platypuss @little-peril-stories @loopyhoopywrites @its-on-site @aalinaaaaaa @randomlettrrsqqssfxwcvhxnqbwriro @thepeculiarbird + anyone else

(y'all don't have to do all of these - pick one. Honestly you can do all of them but like...only if you really want to)

Version 1

Last Song - Driving the Last Spike (Genesis)

Currently Watching - Star Trek Voyager in my trek marathon, still have a little bit of Phineas and Ferb to rewatch, MythBusters, Whose Line is it Anyway, The Bad Batch as it comes out, and I keep forgetting the last bit of Hamster and Gretel is on D+ rip

Three Ships - uhhh the least controversial I feel will be Robin/Starfire (Teen Titans), Kirk/Spock (Star Trek), and Dakota/Cavendish (Milo Murphy's Law)

Favorite color - T E A L 🩵💚 it slaps. Btw this: 🩵 is not teal but it's the emoji that pops up when I type teal wtf teal is GREENER that's like cyan which also has the same emoji I'm sick of people calling light blue teal

Currently reading - beta reading Whispers by @magic-is-something-we-create and making my way through Purple Hyacinth on Webtoon

Currently consuming - uh just woke up will have my coffee in a bit

Place of birth - Earth

Currently location - pretty sure it's Earth

Last movie - True Lies (first time watching)

Version 2

Are you named after anyone? No my mom was sick of the family name she was given so revolted against peer pressure.

When was the last time you cried? Uhh couple days ago got caught in traffic due to an accident and went a separate way only to find myself on the feeder road with more traffic from another accident so I had to pull into a Jaguar parking lot before I got full a panic attack

Do you have kids? No please dear God. Future students are my kids.

What sport do you/have you played? Soccer when I was like in kindergarten.

Do you sarcasm? See next answer

What's the first thing you notice about someone? That they exist

Eye color? Brown

Scary movie or happy ending? These aren't opposites?? Scary movies have happy endings! So happy endings.

Any talents? Uh, writing, I guess. Media analysis. I can read fast. I'm Gen Z and can write in cursive. I kick ass at the puzzle match mini game on Wii Party.

Where were you born? *Double checks* yeah still Earth

Hobbies? Writing, reading, watching TV, scrolling through Tumblr, media analysis, watching YouTube, daydreaming, listening to music, useless data analysis

Any pets? Two cats

Height? 5'4

Favorite subject? ELAR (reading/writing) that's why I want to teach it

Dream job? See above

Version 3

Currently reading - answered this above

Last song - I'm doing this on a different day (sorry) and now it's Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Queen)

Currently watching - said above

Current fic - uh I'm just reading the stuff I already said

Current hyperfixation - brain recently has been toggling between Phineas and Ferb, Teen Titans (2003), Avatar The Last Airbender, Megamind, and my WIP The Secret Portal so uh pick one

Favorite color - T E A L

Sweet/spicy/savory - I guess savory but yeah depends on mood

Relationship status - happily dating ❤️

Last thing I Googled - Ming-Na Wen (wanted to know her age. She's 60)

Song stuck in my head - currently Somebody To Love (Queen - was listening to the greatest hits)

Favorite food - my dad's food, specifically his Cincinnati chili and his cake

Dream trip - New Zealand or Tokyo

Version 4

(highlight what describes you)

APPEARANCE

Dark hair* // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don't often smile// I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

*up for debate

ACTIVITIES/INTERESTS

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami* // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand

*with instructions and not well

RELATIONSHIPS

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year// I have a crush* // I have a friend I've known for ten years // my parents are together // I have dated my best friend+ // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship^ // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

*does my gf count as a crush? I still act like it lol

+am dating

^i think this is referring to romance but I do have other friends in other states

SEASONS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise* // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colours // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

*I think once could be making that up

Take your bets if I'm an outdoorsy person (nope)

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of Sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower* // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed+ // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs

*quietly

+used to

EDIT: I've decided to add onto this post whenever I get a new get to know me tag, so from here on out this was not in the original post

Version 5

I'm over 5'5 / I wear glasses or contacts (glasses) / I have blonde hair / I often wear sweatshirts (I think some of them count?) / I prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / I have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / I typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting boss face / i play sports (was in soccer in kindergarten haha) / I play an instrument (used to, violin) / i know more than one language (I know some ASL but I've forgotten most of it... ) / I can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / I have never dated anyone / I have a best friend that I have known for over five years (Cado, how has it been seven years almost????) / I am an only child

Version 6

Last song: as of answering this, technically I watched Psych so the theme song!

Favorite color: you should know this at this point in the post

Currently watching: Psych like I said, also Star Trek Voyager and a few on the side still (see above)

Sweet/spicy/savory: see Version 3

Current obsession: ...Psych but also my WIPs :)

Last thing I googled: thesaurus because I was doing the @sipofsnips and didn't have the word this morning

Favorite season: they all suck but I'll go with fall

Skill I'd like to learn: I want to draw good

Best advice: "thinking about it counts as working on it" because it's changed my outlook on how much I get done in a day, "progress is progress" for similar reasons but more general, and generally that if you burn yourself out trying to do everything nothing gets done

Woo! This was a LOT holy shit. Hope you know more about me!

Version 7

A scent you love: ooh cookies baking smells wonderful

Something you're looking forward to this week: finals finished yesterday which means more free time for me! I get to catch up on reading and writing!!

Currently reading: beta for Whispers by @magic-is-something-we-create WHICH I CAN FINALLY GET BACK TO WOOOO

Currently playing: not a video game person sorry - but I've been occasionally picking at mobile games like Animal Restaurant

Most recent movie: uh... When did I last watch a movie?? I think it was True Lies?? First time watching. Wasn't expecting it to be as chaotic as it was.

Current show: Star Trek Voyager and Psych! Partially rewatch/first time watching every episode and total rewatch respectively! I've not seen either since middle school so this is super exciting

Favorite season: autumn because it's starting to get cooler and pollen isn't everywhere

Recently learned: took a life in the universe class this semester and learned a lot about life in the universe (obviously) and while I have mixed feelings about the class MAN the content was fascinating

Water intake: currently drinking water like always :) । have to pee

[i-sveikata]

Hi Gabby!

I have another great song for VegasPete playlist!

Masterpiece by Motionless In White

"All the stupid lies and the stupid games

Left a vacancy in this picture frame

A prisoner by my own hands

'Cause if I can't have me, then no one can

I need to heal what I inflict

But I'll burn that bridge when I get to it

As I play roulette with a broken gun

I confess these sins with a sharp and spiteful tongue

So how do I apologize

And put the tears back in your eyes

When every canvas that I paint

Is a masterpiece made of my mistakes?"

I think this could be about Vegas. Putting Pete as a prisoner but also his own self too? Vegas is a prisoner of his family heritage, trauma and mafia life but Vegas puts himself in the cage where no one else can reach. He doesn't think he deserves anything, love or affection. His own thoughts are sabotaging him. He needs to heal the wound he inflicted on Pete and himself. More actually on himself. How long did he battle with emotions through physical pain to distract himself? He will burn many bridges before he gets there. And with his sharp tongue he will push Pete away to .. do what he will in the next chapter lol

This one made me think, did Vegas or Pete ever cried in your fic? We know well that series Vegas is a little pitiful meow meow cry baby. Cause I don't remember if they ever did, and if they didn't.. will they in the future?

I'm not gonna lie. I love unhinged psychopath Vegas but I also love his soft and broken side in the series too.

The scene where Vegas and Pete cried at the same time, alone, after the safehouse. It's one of my favorite scenes. And the significance of food there too!

Anyway, hope you have a nice day/night and week!

It's 35C these days here so I always wonder how people in Australia can survive this temperature. I'm literally melting in my house 🫠

hello again!! and thank you (i will add it to my to listen playlist ;) now) oh yes i totally agree vegas is very much a prisoner of his own heritage and traumas and also the circumstances hes also created for himself. he is definitely self sabotaging but the worst part is that he fully believes that he has no control over it- that him screwing things up is just inevitable. he is definitely doing his best to heal the harm that he inflicted on pete and himself tbh but yeah healing is not a straight line and he is absolutely going to screw up before he gets there!

vegas has cried in the fic (during the high tensions and angst and grief of the pool scene) but pete is a bit of a tougher nut to crack- i think he might have teared up a little when he first went home to his grandmother shellshocked from the hell he just crawled out of (but my memory is terrible i could be wrong lmao) theres no current scenes i have planned with pete crying currently- but who knows theres so many extra moments that havent come into my brain yet we might all be surprised!

oh yeaaaaah this is the moment where vegas let him go right??? and they were both really emotional! didnt really play out the same way because pete escaped in my fic but honestly who knows- their emotional confrontations are always pretty feeling heavy so we could possibly have a similar kind of emotional scene - pete might definitely be in the right headspace for it now that his house has been destroyed. i think once they're alone again (and safe) they're both going to process a lot of these things together.

im doing alright thanks hope you are too!!! oh dear thats terrible sorry to hear that youre melting in your house! its always so much harder to cool down than it is to warm up i hope the heat drops quickly for you! (yeah tbh the things you can get used to are wild- 38-40 degrees and higher are considered more intense 'hot days' here in australia- but also we're a bit better prepared for that- most houses have been built for those kind of temps an AC is a godsend- honestly we're smack bang in the middle of winter at the moment and a couple weeks ago it was 3 degrees at 7AM and i honestly couldnt get out of bed it was so cold hahahahahaha) good for snuggling up and writing though!!!

[idkanametoputhere]

MID!!!!

CONGRATS U LIL BUNDLE OF CHAOS !!! MAY MANY MORE FOLLOWERS COME YOUR WAY!!!

*balloons an streamers an confetti galore*

may I request Deuce Spade w/ Young by Vacations? surprise me u chaotic child

AHHHHH THANK U LOVE<33

tbh idk the song so I will leave space here for me to say my thoughts on it after I've listened to it:

OMG IK THIS SONG!!!!

ALSO I am SO SORRY for the delay, the wifi in my village has been out since Saturday morning and now they're trying to fix it but yeah enough with my rambling, ahem

type: angst

pronouns: they/them

character: deuce spade

song inspo: Young by Vacations

tw: cussing, me taking inspiration from real life, how I imagine delinquent deuce

this fic is part of my 100 followers event

masterlist&lt;3

if you ask anyone if they have a childhood best friend, the majority of people will say that they did

deuce spade is one of them, a guy with an oh so supportive best friend who managed to get him out of trouble while still having fun

or well, at least he had a friend like that, you know, before he pushed them away

"Another day goes by

And where was I?"

it was sad to be honest, or more specifically lonely. the friend they had supported all their life, the friend they had turned to whenever they were sad, the friend whose side they stood by through thick and thin had pushed them aside

their blue haired friend was going through a "phase" as you could call it, he wanted to be perceived as a troublemaker, a tough guy who did mischevious deeds. and being friends with someone who had the reputation of a sweetheart was not really fitting for that reputation. and so the two unspeakable friends were suddenly separated

meanwhile the friend kept coming back

"Didn't think I'd still be here

Just to make things clear"

they were a fool to put it simply. a fool attached to their childhood dream of having a close friend. and they tried so hard to stay by his side. to keep supporting him through every one of his decisions

but in every relationship, friendship or not, there needs to be mutual affection for it to work. not just one sad fool, a jester in their own castle, who clings to every pice of affection shown towards them as if they'll fall into the abyss if they let go

"What's the use?"

they considered themselves a smart person. someone who can realise when they are unwanted and yet, they couldn't seem to be able to step away from their friend. they were unable to stop themself from checking at their phone, waiting for a text that would signal them hanging out with deuce

"I'm not talking sense"

everyone was worried about them. "it's fine" they claimed. "he's just been busy, so have i" they said. how many excuses have they come up with so they could lie to the ones who cared about them? or maybe they were lying to themself, they needed those lies to be happy

imagine a flower hidden from the sun. it needs the sunlight, but it is not given to the flower. it tried to find it, but someone placed it in the shadows and therefore it can do nothing but try to get close to its beloved sunlight before it dies

except their sun was not rising just so he wouldn't give sunlight to them

"Call it a ruse

On myself"

"hi" one time, they greeted him and he just quicly and awkwardly greeted them back

"hi deuce" another time, this time they got answered with just a small wave

"hi"

"hello"

"hi"

time and time again, they were greeted back by a quick wave and a roll of the eyes, until one day he just started ignoring them, not even sparing them a glance

and all the lies they had been feeding themself to feel better suddenly disappeared and they were able to see the truth

the truth was quite simple, once they were friends, shared every moment together, sad or not, they had made plans together for the future. and now? now they were nothing more than mere strangers, just like they had started

years of friendship down the drain for the sake of being "cool". pretty funny, isn't it?

"I wanted to go"

the worst thing in all of this was probably watching him with his friends at school or outside

for so long it had been them standing by his side, only for them to be replaced?

call them dramatic but losing such a close friend of theirs affected them a lot. it was as if their whole world had crashed down around them and someone was keeping them from rebuilding it

and the years passed like that, with the well-known sweetheart avoiding one person in particular as they focused on everything but him

and then it was time for both of them to be enrolled at the same college, NRC. and -you wouldn't guess- their luck is so good that they were put in the same dorm as deuce

but speaking of deuce, what about him?

"I wanted to say

All things come to pass

With time"

deuce knew he had fucked up. he knew that what he did was horrible, and now that he had gone out of that delinquent phase of his, he wanted to do nothing more than apologise to his old friend

he missed how they took care of any injuries he had after falling, he missed them sharing their lunch cause he forgot his, he missed them listening to him talking. and most of all, he missed their presence. he missed the warm smile they gave him and their melodic laugh

he thought that enough time had passed so that they would move over what happened, forgive and forget and all that. except he hadn't considered how hurt his old friend was, and how stuck on the past they were, for a good reason that is

and so every time he tried approaching them they turned away, avoiding him like that plague

"But I want everything now

To be all mine"

was he asking for too much? he just wanted his friend back! he knew he had wronged them but they could talk it over and make up, just like that! they weren't children anymore, were they? there was no need for petty arguments!

except of course if one of the two had years of pent up anger and pain caused by the other, then petty arguments were the way to go I suppose

"You think it's all over

Get up and try again"

and so it went, argument after argument, one each day. there were countless times when they were collared by their dorm leader because they were causing a ruckus, and he was right to do that

their fights were messy. no insults were thrown at eachother, there was a time when they cared for eachother so they didn't have the heart to be mean to eachother

but there were some ugly remarks being made

"You've got to act your age, darling"

"can't you just listen to me for one second?"

"couldn't you have, you know, not pushed me aside for literally no reason?"

"grow up"

yet another screaming match between the two. not the first one, and probably not the last one either

they say that, if two people are trying to solve a problem, there needs to be proper communication between them. can you see what the two heroes of our story are lacking? just that, exactly

"I was a kid, I was dumb, I get it and I'm sorry" yelled the ravenette, desperate to have his friend back. "good thing you realised you were dumb, but I was also a kid! and I was there for you since we were babies! you pushed me aside deuce, without any reason. you looked at me as if I was a stranger! you ignored me and never even gave me a reason why!" they screamed at his face, their eyes glossy, tears threatening to spill from their anger.

"do you k own how much that hurt? I was lying to everyone -i was lying to my own self for seven's sake- saying that 'oh no we're still friends. he still cares about me'. bullshit!" they kept on yelling as tears started running down their face

and then he realised how much he had hurt them. how much his own stupid actions had fucked up his most valued friendship

"Before you fall back in"

"I'm sorry" was the inky thing he could say the feeling of guilt running through his mind, like a virus infecting a body and making it weak, only able to respond to said virus

guilt, shame, regret, despair

he realised he had opened pandora's box, and he didn't know if there was hope at the bottom of it.

a/n: okay I got a bit carried away BUT CAN U BLAME ME? ITS A GOOD SONG THAT GIVES ME GREAT INSPIRATION AND I HAD NO INTERNET

[bitbybitwrites]

WIP Wednesday - Cuffed - Klaine fan fic

I know it isn't Wednesday - but I saw I was tagged on this late last night! Thanks for the tag, @blurglesmurfklaine !

I don't think I can show anything from my current WIP for the Reverse Bang - that I'm currently working on.

However, I can share a bit of the prequel I'm working on for the first-ever Klaine fan fic I wrote: Trick or Treat.

Here's a bit of the prologue for you under the cut . Enjoy!

**********

From the outside looking in, Blaine Anderson was a pretty average 6-year-old boy.  He liked being outside - rolling around in the dirt, climbing trees, tossing the football around with his older brother Cooper (that is when Cooper would pay him any attention).  He ran around the back yard wild and unsupervised, exploring, making up adventures and stories and songs in his head and pretty much getting into whatever mischief he could.  

Lola Anghelita (Mind you, she wasn’t really his grandmother, but actually an older Filipina that his mother had hired as their nanny and housekeeper.  But she still insisted that he call her Lola) Well, Lola called him a dreamer, or rather the Tagalog equivalent: mapangarapin.  He had a hard time getting his mouth around that word but he liked the sound of it, the rhythm of it, the music of it.  

He was a sweet child.  Blaine was polite, and thoughtful – kind of an old soul in a little body with his bow ties and proper manners.  He was also very kind, and outgoing and friendly.  In all instances one would think he would have friends shuttle in and out of his home constantly.  But he was an Anderson, and the imposing, gated family home in Westerville didn’t do much enticing other young children to come knocking on the door asking if he could come out and play.

Maybe it didn’t help either that Blaine was so much younger than not only his older brother Cooper, but most of the children in his affluent neighborhood. There were many days that Blaine would watch, faced pressed against the window of his bedroom as Cooper’s friends would come to pick him up and hang out.

“Can I come, Coop?  Please?” Blaine would always beg. The sound of the laughing teenagers waiting outside in the car always made him think like he was missing out on something fun.

“Sorry, Squirt,” his brother said one day as he straightened his clothes and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “‘Fraid not, we’re doing big kid stuff.  Nothing you’d be interested in.” He winked and smiled.

Blaine’s nose wrinkled as he thought of what Cooper might be doing.  “Eww, gross.  You kissing that girl again?” he asked.  Last time they were at the country club getting tennis lessons, Blaine had caught Cooper with his face stuck to Lindsay Pierce behind the refreshment stand.  She was pretty, he guessed. She looked a lot like a princess.  He figured Coop liked something about her long blond hair and blue eyes. 

Cooper wagged his eyebrows at his brother “Maaaaaaybe.”he said, grinning slyly.

Blaine pretended to gag.  “Yuck,” he said, making a disgusted face. 

But then a thought crossed his mind.  “Will you be back soon?” he asked his brother hopefully.

Cooper shrugged. “Dunno,” he said.  “Depends on how the night goes.”  He winked at Blaine in that way that made all the girls bat their eyelashes and smile funny at his brother.  “Don’t wait up, OK ,Squirt?”  He ruffled Blaine’s hair so the curls flew about wildly. And then he was gone.

Blaine sighed as he watched Cooper jump into the car below.  He saw his brother sling his arm over the girl next to him in the back seat.  Blaine squinted to looks closer ta the car’s occupants.  He couldn’t tell if it was Lindsay or just another girl there in the back seat.  Cooper seemed to have a never ending stream of them following him around the country club, smiling and batting their eyes at him.

Blaine shuddered.  Girls were gross.  Well, maybe not all girls - just girls like that.  All flirty and giggly and kissy face -  those girls were just -  gross.

Lindsay’s little sister was ok.  She was sweet ,though a little strange.  She wore cat ears and carted around a stuffed grey striped kitten plushie she called Mephistopheles.  It was always with her whenever he saw her.  Brittany never failed to be nice to him whenever they were paired up to dance together at Country Club events. She never made fun of him and his bowties.  She didn’t try to kiss him like the other little girls his age - or pinch his cheek like the older women at the club.  Brittany somehow always had candy stashed in her pockets and would slip him some when the adults weren’t looking.

*****

“You’re sweet,” Brittany told Blaine one day after he politely thanked her for a green apple jolly rancher.  “Like a honey bee.”

Blaine looked at her with a patient smile.  “Uh, thanks?” He knew better than to explain that bees weren’t sweet, just honey.

“I’m calling you that from now on,” she informed him.

“Honey?” he asked, unsure where this conversation was going to go this time.

“No, Honey Bee.  Because you’re sweet - and your name starts with the letter B.” she stated matter-of-factly.

And with that, Brittany just walked off leaving Blaine staring blankly after her as she mumbled something to Mephistopheles that he was getting a new brother called Lord Tubbington soon.

*****

Blaine sighed.  Maybe if Lindsay came over to see Cooper she could bring Brittany with her?  At least he could have someone to talk to. 

Brittany might not understand too much of his thoughts (and sometimes the feelings were mutual), but she liked listening to his stories and never really laughed at him when he told her things.

Blaine tapped at the window pane sullenly.

Being on his own was so boring. 

And lonely.

[lordstormageddidnt]

Alfie's End of Year Rec List 2024

Out of 447,090 words and 141 total fics, this year I wrote a whole 224k and 78 fics, which is a lot more than last year. I wrote for 10 different ships this year, including 3 new ones. Yay for progress, I guess.

Anyway, to celebrate a rather productive year here at the_oncoming_stormageddon's AO3 dashboard, I've decided to compile a list of all of my favorite fics that I would reccommend :D number three will shock you!

In a shocking turn of events, I lied, sorry. This is about my graphs. It's always about my graphs. All graphs are up to date as of 12/21/2023, and there isn't even a missing word somewhere that has to be accounted for!

(Did I type all of this up, realize I had another fic to post, and then have to go back in and fix everything? ...perhaps)

Anyway. Let's start with Taylor Swift.

As always, "Other" corresponds to fics with titles from other artists, "Non-Album" refers to titles from Taylor Swift songs that aren't on an album or are unreleased, and "None" refers to titles that weren't from any lyrics. Orville Peck and Maisie Peter were the big contributors to the "other" category this year. The second graph shows the percent of the number of fics, while the first graph is the combined word count. Also, I did have 1 fic with an If This Was a Movie title, and I categorized it under "Speak Now TV" instead of Fearless TV. Yell at me about it in the comments if you really care, since it's technically incorrect.

Last year, I had a big Fearless slice because of the Hey Stephen series, and it was kind of surprising to me to see how much I slowed down in doing those, with Fearless only having 4 fics to its name. The disparity between the number and word count of the evermore was a little odd to me, until I realized that my longest fic ever (Tuesday Night at Olive Garden, a destiel murder mystery) was named after an evermore song. One thing that did not surprise me was folklore only having 1 fic, because that is my least favorite album.

So...the destiel thing...

The SPN hyperfixation took hold of me in Feb/March of this year and has not let go yet. Looking at my all-time graphs (where its about 33%/40% destiel/solangelo for word count), I didn't think it was that bad, but plugging in the numbers for just this year...uh, yeah. It's that bad. Sorry.

I had a really strong streak of posting solangelo every month until March hit. Again, destiel hyperfixation in visual form. This year, I wrote lokius (L/MMM, from the show Loki) and sterek (DH/SS, from the show Teen Wolf) for the first time. I also posted destiel (C/DW) for the first time (the bad destiel fics of middle school alfie are staying in locked docs where they belong).

As expected, I had a bit of a drop-off in the summer months, but it was surprising for me to see that it never went back up after school started again. Last year, I had a huge spike in September, October, and December, but this year stayed relatively mellow. Next year, I'd really like to see which trend I follow monthly.

Anyway, that's the end of the graphs I have prepared for you (I will spare yall from the more complicated ones). Next year, I'd really like to start finishing up some of the unresolved fics and series I have (mostly solangelo ones that got drowned in the destiel flood). I'm doing my first ever big bang (for the Professor Layton fandom), so katriana (KL/EP) will make it onto my graphs for next year, as will destiel and solangelo.

Thanks for reading & I hope you enjoyed :D congrats on making it to 2024!

[lyra-swan]

Thank you for responding nicely, you were very helpful and you actually motivated me to work more on myself. The problem here is that I'm not a native or anything, but English is so easy to me and I think its easier than my first language. However, I still have problems with how native talk and speak, describing and the likes. Anyway, forget about that. What I come here to ask was how did you write your fic "Mechanical Angel"? What inspired you or helped you to write it? If it's too much just ignore it. This work is so good and the plot is really intriguing , I can't put in words but I really loved it. Thank you for writing it.

Hey sorry for the late reply, had to do a bit of travelling!

Don't worry too much! Keep practising! A thing I like to do is rewrite something I wrote ages ago to see my progress. It's super fun and extremely motivating to see how far you've come.

As for your question, I've written and rewritten an answer so many times because I both want to go into detail and also not go into too much detail because it might be a bit much. This does get a little bit too personal, it's nothing extreme but I'll apologise anyway. Also sorry if it sounds a bit rambly, at least I didn't write too much!

I first got the idea zoning out to music on a long truck ride and I thought of Eichi taking in a newly orphaned Mika from a snowy war zone. Then Mika learns that Eichi killed his family after overhearing a convo between Eichi and Yuzuru, he becomes distant and joins the army to kill Eichi in revenge, befriends Shu, then there's the end scene on the cliff years later in winter where it's revealed that it was all a misunderstanding and that Eichi loves Mika like a son after he's shot by Mika. That was the original simple plotline that I dumped into a document to write another day.

There are so many inspirations behind this fic.... Attack on Titan... Watership Down (I wonder if anyone noticed the references peppered throughout)... Linked Horizon's songs (He Lies in a Cold Coffin, chapter title of 3, is literally She Lies in a Cold Coffin, one of my favourite Linked Horizon Songs)... Made in Abyss... the actual Mechanical Angel song by Sunday Driver where I got the title and idea for Mika becoming a living weapon, but the whole evil doctor Tatsumi thing was inspired by an actual certain doctor whose skull is now used by forensics students in Brazil.

I was doing a lot of digging into WW2 before I started, more than I usually do anyway, as well as that aforementioned certain doctor because I somehow became obsessed with it (purely research intentions, but I DO love WW2 planes, greatly, I get so excited whenever I see any WW2 plane from any country), and I was looking for inspiration knowing I'd be writing in a similar setting in a similar timeframe. So that was a major inspiration.

But what really changed the story was when I lived on my family's farm for two months after certain circumstances. I abandoned the other au I was writing back then and began writing this one some days after moving in.

'Because Mika is in a new environment, just like me, sure I understand what he's going through' is how me expressing my own personal conflicts in this fic began, it very quickly became more than just that. (E.g. Eichi getting upset at Arashi's mother).

It was the environment and hatred for my abusive family that served as a driving force. Writing it practically became a coping method. And it helped. So much. It was healing and cathartic to write and it genuinely helped me in so many ways it's not too much to say it completely rewired my brain in certain aspects. Sure there are scenes that I think are pretty juvenile (e.g. Mika and Eichi's father), but then I remember why I wrote them that way and leave it be because it was what I needed back then. Nobody needed to like it or understand, it was all for myself. (And also, it is just a fanfiction in the end so it's totally fine).

I live in New Zealand so it was late spring when I started writing. So hot too! It was practically summer already, it got hotter each day. So many cicadas, too. Summer is definitely an important season in the fic precisely because of those days when I'd get away from my family by writing in one of the paddocks in a secluded part of the farm. In ch.2 there's a ladybug because I stared at the grass while thinking of what to write and saw the cutest little ladybug myself and decided to start the next scene just like that. That's one of my most favourite memories, and also maybe getting too scared to leave the paddock when I was writing the end of ch.3 at night because there were bulls blocking the gate... I had to squish through the mud and climb over the fence instead and there were possums (I actually don't know what they were! This is just a guess! All I heard was high-pitched creature screaming!) screaming in the forest right next to me so that totally wasn't scary!

But yes, writing in the countryside, combined with me watching WW2 documentaries and Watership Down at night, my personal struggles with family, and DOGS because I LOVE dogs, served to completely change the plot that I thought would be so simple as well as add a heap of words I never expected.

Also, very important, this: "And if Eichi was right beside him in his arms, if Mika could feel his breath and hear his heartbeat, then Eichi was definitely safe" from ch.65 Screams Drowning in the Roaring Wind (inspired by lyrics for Sensen no Realism, an Ending Song for Youjo Senki, a lot of the chapter titles are inspired by lyrics from different songs), is based on this paragraph from an article called Why Does My Rottweiler Sit on Me: Understanding This Odd Behavior:

"And sometimes you will get sat on. This will probably make your Rottweiler feel better, because if they are sitting on you then you are definitely safe. But it might not have quite the same impact on you."

Rottweilers are a dream breed of mine, so I gave Eichi 2 Rotties (mentioned in ch.51 before Tori terrorises Mika). It's just a shame Mika is so scared of dogs, doesn't help he gets attacked by a dog though. Either way he would definitely sit on Eichi to make absolutely sure he is safe. He's a good guard dog.

[mhaccunoval]

I’m a Wonder...

The room was set; camera and tapes ready, suspect in custody, guards standing by. Yet something still felt off. Something felt like it was bound to go wrong the moment they walked into the interrogation room and intuition told him it was the seething physicist burning holes into the door to the room with just his eyes. For as much as he was Pentecost’s flesh and blood, Jake was nothing like his father, only able to diffuse such situations on a moment's notice, floundering otherwise. But, he was going to have to speak up now or forever hold his peace, prompting to catch Ranger Lambert’s arm as he stepped towards the door.

“Nate. Sidebar.” He half whispered, pulling them out of earshot range.

“What?” Nate cocked an eyebrow, already irritated with what he was going to say.

“Should we rethink letting Gottlieb in?” Jake suggested, tilting his head in Hermann’s direction when he said his name.

Nate’s scowl grew tighter as he processed the thought. It was Jake’s idea in the first place to try to get Hermann in there once Geiszler had finally given in and agreed to give them any sort of answers, hoping some part of the old Newton would poke through if Gottlieb was there. They were mere minutes from starting their interrogation so it was baffling that Jake was suddenly going back on his idea.

“Why? It might actually get him to talk.” Nate posited, using Jake’s own words from when he proposed the concept.

“Just take a minute and look at his aura,” Jake stepped beside him, gesturing, “Really look at it.”

“Jake…” Nate huffed as he kept himself from rolling his eyes.

“Alright, I’ll cut the mystic bullshit. But seriously, he looks like he’s going to kill him the second he walks in.” Jake explained.

It was true. Hermann was standing a few feet from the interrogation room door, a white knuckled grip on the head of his cane. His jaw was visibly clenched and there was a fire in his eyes that was burning hotter than ever. Even with the distance between them, Jake and Nate equally gulped as they felt the red hot anger wafting off of him. It was strong enough to chill their blood and make them imagine the scene that would play out if they weren’t careful.

“He does look pretty pissed,” Nate conceded after a moment, “Look, I’ll cut you a deal: we let him in and if they get rowdy, we’ll put him on the bench.”

“Oh, I guarantee they’ll get rowdy. But whatever you say, your majesty.” Jake sniped, clapping his hand on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate just shook his head and took the lead in walking back towards the door, Jake matching his pace only a tick late. Noticing the rangers in his peripheral, Hermann cleared his throat and straightened out his hunched posture, trying to work himself back into a civil mindset so they could get this over with peacefully. Jake eyed him cautiously, standing close enough to hold him back if necessary, while Nate punched in the security code on the door’s keypad. As the door slid aside, everyone caught sight of Newton, looking meek but as conceited as ever, brows furrowed and biting at the split in his lip. He instantly stood up from his chairs, cuffs around his wrists jangling, and bared his teeth when he noticed Hermann, who mimicked his snarl and gripped his cane with both hands. He was only steps from being in close enough range to hit Newton when Jake and Nate caught him at the torso.

“Yup, already gone south,” Jake sighed, aiming to push Hermann back into the hallway, “Out we go.”

With one hand on Hermann’s chest, he roughly pressed in the code to close the door using his free hand. Hermann, blinded by his rage, continued to fight back, only to be seized by the lapels of his blazer and pressed against the wall, boxed in by Jake’s strong frame. He drew a shaky breath through his nose and slowly calmed as he let it back out through a deep exhale. It occurred to him as he returned to his right mind how uncouth he was becoming, the fight response likely something left over from an old drift that now felt like distant history.

“My apologies,” He choked out once he regained his voice, “I seem to have let my anger take over.”

Jake kept his hands curled for a second longer after accepting the apology and guilt settled in his stomach as he observed Hermann nervously rubbing the bruising around his throat from the last time he was in a room with Newton.

“No, I totally understand.” Jake assured, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, I’d love to let you beat him to a pulp, I really would,” He continued, trying to rectify the situation, “But if he’s finally willing to talk, we need him to spill before I let you do that, alright?”

Hermann nodded, the fire in his eyes extinguishing like molten steel being placed in water. The lines in his face perfectly exhibited how exhausted he had been, mentally and physically, these past ten years and only seemed to be growing deeper as he continued to have dark thoughts about Newton’s affliction. Jake had detected it the moment they met and still felt sympathy for him, hardly beginning to imagine the pain whirling around his head.

“Good. Go make yourself some tea, just cool down.” He advised, watching Hermann’s wake as he shuffled to the mess hall before going back into the cell.

Nate had managed to convince Newton to sit back down, it seemed, as the little weasel was leaned all the way back, hands hung in his lap as his glower remained painted on his face. He was a small man as is but something about his chair, the table, or both made him look even more minute, unsettling everyone at the thought of someone so tiny almost ending the world. Jake half expected him to smirk and make some sort of smartass comment, but Newton just scanned every corner of the room before doing the latter.

“What is this? A police interrogation? I thought the police got defunded a while back.” He jested, sporting an evil glare that went back and forth between the rangers.

“They did, but that’s beside the point. You said you had answers.” Nate countered sternly, pulling out the chair across from him.

“Correction: I said I might have answers. For a price.” Newton scoffed, beginning to trace absent circles onto the table top.

“You already know we’re not letting you walk until we get those things out of your head.” Jake responded, leaned with his back against the door and his arms folded across his chest.

“I’m not worried about that right now. What I want to know is why you tried to bring him in here.” Newton retorted.

“We thought he might talk some sense into you finally.” Nate answered, unable to keep a hint of his own sarcasm out of his tone.

“Well, you thought wrong. Again.” Newton growled, ceasing his scribbling to cross his arms.

“Clearly,” Jake sneered, suppressing the urge to smack the smugness out of him, “What was your big idea, anyway?”

“Uh, simple? The Precursors’ first plan didn’t work so they were going to try again. If it hadn’t been for you meddling kids.” Newton disclosed, one knee rhythmically bouncing.

“And used you as a vessel?” Nate questioned, more so to clarify than get new information.

“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? Guess it’s what you all get for calling me a kaiju groupie for so long.

“But, yeah. I was their middle man, let them worm their way over here. Shao didn’t suspect shit.” Newton described in a level of detail that would have to suffice.

“Anything else?” Nate and Jake asked in unison, glaring at each other after they did.

“Nope. Other than you better keep frog face out of here or I’ll fuck you both up.” Newton barked, his attempted intimidation not translating as well as he wanted it to.

“Sure, you will.” Jake heckled, already going to unlock the door.

“Would love to see you try.” Nate similarly quipped, leaving his chair where it was and following Jake out.

“I mean it!” Newton aimlessly called after them.

In the hallway, the rangers exchanged a knowing look, Nate wordlessly telling Jake to go find Hermann, acknowledging that Newton would be choleric about it but hoping it was for the best. Jake’s first instinct was to check the lab, where he found Hermann blankly focused on the center of his littered desk, tea in his hand presumably going cold. It was only when Jake stepped into his personal bubble that he blinked back into reality and met his eye.

“I don’t know how you put up with him for ten years.” Jake joked, turning to lean against the corner of the desk.

“Nor do I,” Hermann slowly shook his head, gazing into his mug as he took a sip, “He’s truly insufferable.”

“You deserve financial compensation.” Jake chuckled, once again patting his shoulder.

They sat in amiable silence for a minute before he remembered why he was there, noting, “We didn’t get anything new out of him.”

“Shocking.” Hermann sighed, setting his mug down as he felt his grip start waning.

“Do you want to try Plan A again and see if you can get him to talk?” Jake inquired, trying not to overstep a boundary.

“I severely doubt it would yield anything other than shouting and a physical altercation.” Hermann reminded him.

“Fair enough--”

“But, it appears to be our last resort.” Wobbling slightly, Hermann stood up from his chair and placed a hand on Jake’s bicep to stabilize himself before grabbing his cane.

Jake made sure he had his balance before leading them out of the dimly lit lab into the bright hall, slowing his gait so that Hermann could match it. They had already inaudibly agreed that the odds of this working were low, Hermann, of course, having actually calculated the meager probability in the back of his head. Nate was most likely still checking the security tapes, so Jake decided to join him once he let Hermann into the interrogation room. As the door opened, Newton’s eyebrows raised and lowered at the drop of a dime, apparently having expected someone else to be waltzing in.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Pentecost--”

“Have fun boys!” Jake cut him short, rapidly closing the door after Hermann stepped in and sprinting off to find Nate.

“Fucking rangers…” Newton grumbled, scooting his chair back as far as his cuffs would allow as Hermann settled into the other seat.

“Indeed.” He concurred, crossing his legs and neatly folding his hands in his lap.

“I’m not telling you dipshits anything else, if that’s what you’re about to ask.” Newton divulged as he put his feet up on the table and tipped his chair.

“And I rightly guessed so.” Hermann assured him, repressing the ancient impulse to chide him about his positioning.

“Then why come back?” This time Newton took up the interrogating side, his interest piqued.

“Honestly? I’m not quite sure.” Hermann lamented, at a loss for words and reason.

“That’s a first, Mr. Know It All-- Sorry, Dr. Know It All.” Newton ragged.

“It seems I had forgotten how appalling you are to be around…” Hermann muttered, voice caught in between audible and to himself.

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to learn it if you hadn’t been so dead set on meeting.”

The jab flipped Hermann’s stomach in several knots and his heart sank to his feet. Unfortunately, there was truth in the statement, as it had been him, breaking his stoic nature, who suggested they meet, wanting to see the brilliant, comedic man he had been writing to. What he had found was an irritating cretin who, ironically, made his heart grow fuller than it already was, even if he’d never admit it. To protect them both, he had sheltered the feelings and kept up walls for many years, only lowering them when they worked together to close the breach (or so he had thought). He never got the opportunity to confess or hand over the twin of the band resting on his figure, so instead he became somewhat of a recluse and avoided any chance that would bring his feelings back to the surface.

Noticing the way he paled and his eyes turned sorrowful, Newton smirked and dug the proverbial knife deeper, saying, “We both know it’s true. For once we can both take my side.”

“I despise you,” Hermann sniffed, refusing to let it turn into a sob, “I genuinely despise you right now.”

“Feeling’s mutual pal.” Newton backhandedly assured him.

“I can’t believe I harbored any other feelings for you…” Hermann sharply exhaled, swiftly getting up from his chair and once again resisting the itch to smack him upside the head.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep the pity party to yourself; I didn’t ask for an invite.” Newton snapped, tentatively watching his movements nonetheless.

“I hope you rot in that cell.” Hermann hexed with the purest resentment he had felt all day, harshly shoving his chair back under the table and furiously typed in the escape code, face burning hot as he turned down the hall.

“No you don’t!” Newton hollered in his wake, maliciously pleased with himself.

Hermann could feel the eyes of staff members watching him as he trudged to the lab, keeping his attention on that task and that task alone to keep the tears stinging his eyes from flowing out just yet. He nearly hurt his hand with how hard he punched in the code to lock the door, paying it no mind as he made his way to his desk chair. He was having a moment of feeling everything all at once yet nothing at all, which could have been managed had he not seen the way his ring glimmered and immediately crumpled. It was pathetic that someone like Newton could do this to him but it was his reality. He could regret it and his weak heart all he wanted but he couldn’t change that he hadn’t wanted Newton to be his forever, only to have those dreams tarnished by incompatible personalities and corrupt consciences. In a world where soulmates were real, this would have been his blown chance that he could never get back.

☽☼☾

[inspo: i’m a wonder]

[simplyparker]

Traitor

gif by @megmeg-chan

Navigation // Marvel Masterlist

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter did something and he can't take it back.

Warnings: Cursing, Cheating,

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I wanted to do something angsty. And I would just like to say I'm picturing Bryce Dallas Howard (Tobey's Gwen Stacey) for this. Also, this is something I posted for a whole different fandom back in June on Wattpad. The original title was going to be 'Liar' but then I was re-reading it and wanted to make it a 'song fic' type thing because of this sentence: Tears spilled from your eyes, as you looked into his brown guilty ones. He looked like he understood how this felt for you.

brown guilty eyes and little white lies yeah

You were watching TV while Peter was in the shower. He had been off lately, and you just assumed it was because of patrolling. You snap out of your thoughts to a ding, then another, then another. His phone kept going off. It could have been May needing help with something. But normally if she can't get ahold of Peter she calls you.

You look over at the coffee table where his phone is, and you grab it. He has his settings to where you can't see the messages unless unlocked, but you can still see the name.

i played dumb but i always knew

'Gwen'

Who the hell was Gwen? And why was she blowing up his phone? It had been about a minute since she messaged when a call came through. You hadn't even noticed Peter got out of the shower and was dressed until he snatched the phone out of your hand and declined the call.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked, anger lacing his voice.

"I just wanted to see who was blowing up your phone like it's their job," you answer in an annoyed tone, completely done with him acting like a dick. He didn't say anything, just walking into your room. You got off the couch and followed him. "Where are you going?" you ask.

"Out." He says grabbing his wallet.

"Out to see her?" you ask, he looks at you and slowly walks over to you. He takes his hand and holds your face.

"No baby, I'm gonna go hang out with Ned. Okay." He says, then kisses your lips gently. You know he was lying, but still, put a smile on your face and responded,

i kept quiet so I could keep you

"Okay," you said. And with that, he left.

◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌

It had been a few months since that happened. Peter was always "hanging out with friends". So you decided to call Ned and Harry, Peter's only friends. Ned told you that he hadn't really seen Peter, but that was because he's been in LA with his girlfriend Betty. Harry said "Sorry y/n, but I haven't seen Peter in weeks."

Even after knowing all this information, you didn't say anything to him. You played dumb when he was around. You needed to talk to someone about this so, you invited MJ over to your apartment.

She had brought some wine so you guys could unwind. And you told her everything. The calls. The texts at late hours. Always leaving earlier than he used to. Telling her how much it hurt. How it felt like you'd been losing him for months. How he wouldn't tell you 'I love you' back. And you cried in her arms. She rubbed soothing circles in your back and eventually your tears calmed down.

"Ugh. We should have let Flash beat the living shit out of him." Michelle says out of nowhere.

"Huh," you say lifting your head from her shoulder.

"Freshman year, when Flash was going to beat him up for whatever reason, but we stopped him. We should have let him." MJ says and you laugh.

Even with MJ trying to cheer you up there was still a problem at bay. Peter had texted you and told you that he could come over tomorrow to hang out. But you already decided what was going to happen tomorrow. You were going to confront him, and end things.

About an hour later MJ left, even though she said she could stay the night, you insisted go downstairs to her apartment. You tossed and turned all night. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to drink with Michelle and then send her back to her apartment.

You kept overthinking. Was he actually cheating? Or were you making it up in your head? Were you actually over-reacting? If you were wrong, you lost him. If you were right, god please don't be right, you lost him. But deep down you knew you weren't wrong.

Because here's the truth, you couldn't lie to him, even over stupid things, safe to say it wasn't the same for him. It really hurt knowing you weren't good enough for him. Knowing that while you were in love with him, he was longing after someone else. Maybe he was even fucking her too.

you said you were friends but it sure as hell doesn't look like it

◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌

Today was the day. You slept like shit but you were done with his little white lies. Well, maybe not 'little white lies' maybe more like huge gray stories.

You were sitting on the couch. Your couch. The couch helped you pick out, and carry in. The couch where so many memories were made.

It's also the couch where you discovered something you wish you hadn't. The couch that you had discovered Peter's lies. Peter's secrets. The same couch where you cried on Michelle's sweater, over a boy who didn't make you feel the same as he used to.

You had a show on Netflix playing, but you weren't paying much attention. You had texted Peter telling him to just let himself in when he got there. You didn't think you could open the door if he knocked. You probably would have locked it and told him to fuck off.

He walked in with a smile on his face. Closed the door behind him, and set his jacket on the back of the chair that was closest to the door. He came up to you to give you a kiss but you tilted your head away.

"Peter?" You say in a quieter voice. He backs up a bit and you stand up.

"Yes?" He asks.

"Who have you been out with?" You ask.

"Just Ned and Harry, y/n." He sighed.

"Just stop lying. I know you haven't been with them. Harry says he hasn't seen you in weeks, and Ned," You laugh, " Ned is in fucking LA" you say.

"Baby," he says and reaches out to touch your shoulder.

"Don't! Don't fucking babe me right now. You've been seeing another girl behind my back." You raised your voice.

He just looked at you with his guilty eyes.

"Do you love her? Does she love you? Does she know about your little secret identity? Was she there for you when Tony died? Or- or when you were in such a dark fucking place you were doing shit that would kill you?" You let a tear slip.

you talked to her when we were together loved you at your worst

He just stood there, saying nothing, with teary eyes.

"I ASKED YOU! I ASKED you who she was. I saw the notifications on your phone. I heard the phone ring at late times in the night. Did you sleep with her? While you were sleeping with me?" tears were rolling down your cheeks, and it was starting to get hard to breathe.

"We never slept together, y/n, but," He says with a sigh

"But? But what?" You ask, aggressively wiping the tears from your face.

"We only kissed a few times." He tilts his head down and stares at the floor. And you laugh, a sad, tearful, broken, laugh.

"Fuck off." You told him.

"Y/n... I never meant to hurt you." He spoke softly.

"What's the point, Peter? I'm in love with yet another guy who ends up cheating on me. Is it me? Is there something wrong with me? I mean there has to be right?"

"Y/n there's nothing wrong with you-" He starts, but you physically can't hear the excuses so you cut him off.

"Just get your stuff and get out." and he did what you said. While he walked to your bedroom to get his clothes you grabbed a bottle of rum out of your freezer and just drank. Eventually, he left and you fully broke down.

The next day, MJ came to check on you. Luckily she had a spare key because there was no way you were leaving that couch. She brought some food for both of you to eat for dinner.

"He cheated. Or should I say "We only kissed a few times"?" You say as she sits down next to you.

"Are you fucking serious?" she rolls her eyes. "At least you know now. Even if the truth makes me want to murder him." She says. "Could be worst." You nod your head.

"Yeah," you laugh, "I could be pregnant." You say, and Michelle looks over at you like she's seen a ghost.

"But you're not... right?" She asks.

"No, thank god. I got my period on schedule today." You say, taking a slice of pizza out of the box.

"Holy shit y/n. Don't do that again. Thought we were about to have to raise a baby today." She laughs making you laugh. A few minutes of quiet, the only sound coming from the movie playing on your TV.

"I have to go get me shit from his place." You say.

"What shit do you have there?" She asks.

"Some clothes, phone charger, a small jewelry box," you reply

"Whats in the jewelry box?"Michelle asks, grabbing another slice of pizza.

"Just a few rings like 3 or 4, and a necklace my mom gave me." You say taking another bite.

"I'll go with you, to pick up your shit."

"Okay, thanks. But I don't wanna go today, maybe give it a week to two to cool down on my part. If I see him I might cry on sight." you say, and she nods.

◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌

A week and a half later you and Michelle drove over to Peter's apartment. Apartment 12A. MJ knocks on the door for you and someone that's not Peter answers. She's tall and has long platinum blonde hair.

"Can I help you?" she asks, and it must have clicked in both your, and Michelle's head at the same time. This is Gwen. MJ pusses her way past Gwen and pulls you along with her.

ain't it funny remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

"Hey! You can't just walk in like this" She yells, but MJ ignores her. MJ leads you to the room that toy and Peter used to share when you were over at his place. He shares it with her now. You couldn't believe he just ran to her the second you broke up. He probably fucked her for support or something like that the same night too. You and MJ got inside the bedroom and saw Peter standing there.

"Hey?" He says in a confused tone.

"We came to pick up her stuff dipshit." Michelle answers.

"Oh yeah, sure go ahead." He says awkwardly.

"Babe they just barged in." Gwen stomps her foot.

"It's okay Gwen. That's Y/n and her friend Michelle, they're just gonna pick up the last of her stuff." Peter says.

"Oh, Y/n?" She looks at you, talking about you, not to you." I was right when I said she wasn't good enough for you. Who dresses like that anyways?" You roll your eyes and actually look at her. She's wearing a white tennis skirt and a familiar purple hoodie that has a small white heart on the chest.

"Don't start shit," Peter says to her.

“That’s my hoodie.” you look at her neck and see a necklace your mom gave you. “And that's my necklace.” you look over at Peter “You gave her my necklace? You know my mom gave me that before she died. What the fuck Peter,” you say.

“I didn’t give her shit. She must have found it in your jewelry box.”

“Sorry I didn’t know.” Gwen scoffs, taking off the necklace and giving it to you.

“No, you didn't know. You don’t know anything about me, or him. You don’t know half the shit we’ve been through. You just had to come along and wreck the ONE stable thing that I’ve ever had. And then you want to take my shit and judge me? I'm wearing black fucking sweatpants and a plain blue shirt. Sorry, I'm not wearing Ralph fucking Lauren to my ex-boyfriend's house to pick up all the shit I had here, because he said forever and didn't mean it."

god i wish that you had thought this through before i went and fell in love with you

Gwen just looked at you, and she kind of looked guilty. And Peter, Peter looked like shit.

"Can you just do me one favor? Just answer one question." You say, and Gwen nods her head hesitantly. "Where you guys fucking before we broke up?" you ask, and your voice cracks a little. Gwen looks down at the ground and Peter jerks his head over to her.

"Yes." She says. Michelle scoffs and grabs one of the bookbags you guys stuffed your things into. You look over at Peter.

"But just kissing right?" You shake your head, and Peter reaches out to touch you and explain himself.

"y/n-" but you cut him off.

"You know what, save it." He nods and you crack a smile. "What's that one thing that Lizzo says? "So you can tell your friends: Shoot your shot when you see 'em It's OK," I would tell you to tell Harry that but, he's already in my DMs" you wink and MJ laughs and Peters dropped jew. You pick up the other book bag and walk out of the apartment with Michelle.

When you get to the car you pop the trunk and MJ is the first to speak,

"So, Harry's in your DMs?" She asks.

"When he found out I ended thing with Peter, he texted me and asked if I wanted him to be his rebound. I almost took him up on it. I mean, he kinda looks like James Franco." you say and close the trunk. She laughs and both of you get in the car and drive back to your apartment.

Maybe you will take Harry up on his offer...

[tinyyoungblood]

okay amazing here goes...so SOUR has been on repeat and your one-shot based on the album was super cute and just EVERYTHING 🥺 but also i was listening to 'traitor' the other day and the first line goes "brown guilty eyes and little white lies" and i just. the entire song puts me in the feels over a boyfriend i never had but anyway i was thinking what if...angst with peter parker!! maybe he's been more distant lately and lying about where he's been at nights or something? i'm not sure the world is your oyster!! thank you in advance💘 hehe

strangers with memories | peter parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: pure angst

a/n: “the world is your oyster” lol you’re so sweet <3 we don’t claim the peter parker in this fic because he knows better than this. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was nights like these that made you feel like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. The window was opened, leaving outside noise from the street to breeze in and blend in with the lo-fi beats playing quietly from Peter’s laptop.

Your legs were tangled under a soft blanket as Peter showed you outfit pictures from his Pinterest board, asking for your opinion. It simply made sense. The world felt at peace.

“No, I don’t think you understand. Orange and teal look really good together, see.” Peter turned his phone around to show you his screen. You squinted at the brightness, but once your eyes adjusted, you burst out laughing.

“Sure, if you want look like Perry the Platypus. Get that away from me.” You shoved his hand away and Peter grinned. He swiped to another picture with the same colours combination, and you shrieked. “Not the brown beanie! Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have a field day with this.”

Peter chuckled. He rose to his feet and tossed his phone next to you on the mattress. “I’m going to the bathroom”, he declared with an air of casualness that made you crack a smile. He was halfway through the doorway when he popped his head back in and asked, “You want anything?”

“From the bathroom?” You looked up from your phone.

Peter shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Uh-huh.”

You suppressed your smile. “I’m good, thanks.” He gave you another shrug and left the bathroom, whistling a tune you didn’t know.

Not a second later, Peter’s phone gave off a subtle ping. It wasn’t your intention to look, but reflexes made you glance at it from the corner of your eyes. You regretted it instantly. Your shoulders tensed. It was just a text message—nothing scandalous, but the contact name made your stomach drop.

MJ.

Her name popped up on Peter’s phone screen more often than not. You really didn’t want to be bothered. You knew they were only friends, but you could already see the broad smile edging his face as he read the message. You hated where your thoughts had taken you.

Peter trusted you and you wanted to trust him as well, desperately. You demanded yourself to take the high ground. It still felt stupid and your chest caved in just at the thought of Peter grinning at his phone. He barely even answered your texts anymore.

You could already hear the white lies he was going to feed you. But you felt yourself wanting to keep the white lies. At least, that meant getting to keep Peter. All you could do was swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath. The world still blurred around you.

“May asked if you’re in the mood for Thai food.” Your gaze shot to Peter’s. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the same calm expression as before. Don’t ruin this. Keep the peace.

You forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t like Thai food.”

Peter frowned at that. “Since when? You’ve always liked it.” He appeared almost affronted before realisation crossed his face. “Oh wait, my bad, MJ liked it. We actually just had Thai food together the other night with Ned.” A private smile curled around his lips at the memory.

“Sounds nice,” you replied weakly. It was all you could say.

Peter didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself off and strolled over, picking up his phone to see the texts he had just received. He chuckled softly at whatever he had been sent and punched in a reply.

You simply sat there, fiddling with the blanket that suddenly felt too hot. Say something, the voice inside your head demanded. Be exciting. Don’t make him lose interest. Your hands curled into a fist. You felt ridiculous.

“So about Friday night,” you began awkwardly, feeling suddenly very out of place although there was nobody else in the room. Peter’s eyes were bright with delight as he typed away on his phone.

“Hm?” He said, and you had a feeling it wasn’t because he wanted to you to go on. He just wasn’t sure if you had spoken at all.

Your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile. “Are you going to pick me up or should we just meet there?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased. “Meet you where?”

“At the movies,” you said curtly. “We wanted to watch that movie, remember? It was your idea.” The bite in your tone finally made Peter look up. It was like watching a slow car crash.

“Was it?” Peter mused, and you nodded stiffly.

“Oh.”

From somewhere on the street, you heard people arguing. Their sharp voices cut into the room and drilled themselves into your chest. Don’t let this be us. That isn’t us. We’re better than that. You fixed your eyes on the curve of Peter’s neck, concentrating on his breathing to feel like he wasn’t drifting away. In reality, you knew that the ship was already leaving the harbour and there was nothing you could do.

“Sorry,” Peter finally said, lips pursed. “I kind of already made plans with MJ. Her uncle has this cool train collection that she wanted to show me. She told me about it at lunch today and I’m really excited. It’s pretty awesome.”

Your face dropped and he had the good sense to add, “But we can always catch the movie on Monday night if you want.”

“Why not on the weekend?” A part of you dreaded to hear the answer.

Peter didn’t hesitate as he waved you off. “Ned and I wanted to get started on that new Lego set I told you about.” You had no recollection of that. Peter’s eyes flickered to you before another text message came in, demanding his full attention. The sound made you feel nauseous. The ship was a dot now, fading into the horizon while you were still stranded.

“You can join us if you want,” Peter offered with eyes glued to his phone. “MJ is going to bring Thai food, I think.”

You didn’t bother to reply. You felt claustrophobic. Pushing yourself off his bed, you headed for the window. It was already opened by a crack, but you needed fresh air. It was almost overwhelming when you stepped over the window sill and let yourself out onto the fire escape. The stairs screeched but you didn’t care for the noise. What you needed was proof that there was more out there.

The railing was cold as you wrapped your hands around them. Each window across the street was alit in numerous colours. Silhouettes moved in those colours—people with their own lives and sorrows. The world continued to live.

You settled on one of the stairs and stared up at the night sky. No stars, nothing. You were really stuck at the harbour. Peter’s room was glowing in purple thanks to the LED strips you had set up together a few weeks ago. He had bought old vinyl records and you spent the entire night rating them until sunlight pooled in through the curtains. It all felt like a pipe dream now.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting outside by yourself. All you knew were the colour blocks of windows, shifting in and out of blurriness. You had been too busy watching the ship sail away that you only now realised how much you had starved yourself. One good night wasn’t going to change that. Your mind was just really good at leaving out the bad parts.

“Here you are.” Peter’s voice caught you off guard. You turned away, wiping your tearstained cheeks hastily as he watched you with knitted brows. “I just came to tell you that I invited Ned and MJ over. I hope that’s fine.”

When you didn’t reply, Peter stepped out and sat on the window sill. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Well,” he said, “You’ve been acting weird all week, so…I’m not sure”

“I have been acting weird?” You echoed.

Peter hesitated but lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, but you’re always smiling, so I just assume you’re all right.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said bitterly, tucking your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. “Just look what we’ve become. You can’t even tell anymore if I’m putting on a fake smile.”

“What are you talking about?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, you know.” You waved your hand at nothing. “Air pollution, climate change, everything and nothing these days. But you wouldn’t know, would you.”

“Y/N,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

You hadn’t realised that you had started pacing until his question made you halt and whip around. There was acid in your tone as you snapped, “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“What?” Peter looked stumped. “We see each other every day at school. You’re literally standing in front of me right now.”

You scoffed and sat back down on the stairs. “Love really does make people blind,” you murmured and stared at the sky. Maybe it was going to rain.

Peter exhaled sharply and knelt before you, lowering your chin to look you in the eye. He thought he could find an answer in them, but you knew that if he’d been blind to it all this time, he wasn’t going to see it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, and your chest ached.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I want you. That’s all I wanted.”

“Wanted? You have me.” Peter pressed his lips together. “You have me right now, Y/N.”

“I don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “MJ has you. She’s had you for a while now, and I’m just here watching you both from afar.”

Peter opened his mouth, most likely wanting to deny it, but no sounds came out. He simply stared and stared and stared. Your heart was racing. There was no way back, so you went on, “I don’t care if you’re just friends. I really don’t care, because it hurts just as much knowing that I still let you treat me like that. I miss you and you’re sitting right in front of me. And you know what the worst part is?”

Memories flooded your mind, bricking you like thorns. You devoured them, hungrily, because you were used to living on crumbs. Peter holding you in his arms. Peter looking tenderly after your wounds and kissing your tears. Peter turning sorrow into bliss until you were drunk on laughter and the sky was dusted in stars.

A sad smile hung to your lips. “I still think the world of you. All those nights when I had prayed for someone like you. Someone who could be my safe person and I could be theirs—I thought I had that with you.”

“You do,” Peter hissed, and at once you wondered where he found the strength to believe his own lies. He sighed. “I promise you, you did. It’s just…” Your throat went dry as he bit his tongue. “It’s not something you can control, okay? Maybe you’re just not my only safe person anymore. It’s…it’s not a big deal.” Peter’s gaze dropped as your breath caught.

You were glad you were sitting. There was no doubt that your knees would’ve given out otherwise. His confession felt like a punch to the gut. That small, pathetic voice inside your head screamed and trashed, denying everything he’d just said. A part of you was always so hopeful—Peter used to love that about you.

Remember, it tried to reason, he promised he would never hurt you. Remember how it felt to have his arms around you. It couldn’t have been a lie. None of it could’ve been a lie. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re not actually sorry,” you heard yourself say. “You’re just saying that to feel good about yourself. If you were sorry, you would’ve never made all those promises—” You didn’t have it in yourself to continue. No words would’ve done you justice anyway. “If you’re just going to keep hurting me, then leave me alone.”

Something dark flared in his brown eyes. “Leave you alone?” asked Peter incredulously. “This is stupid and you know it. All of this, just because I’m friends with MJ. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous? We’re just friends. There’s no reason for you to get paranoid.”

“I’m being paranoid now?” Your eyes narrowed.

“That’s what I would call it, yes.”

“Then tell me this.” You jumped to your feet. “Last week, when Mr. Harrison took points off my assignment because I supposedly handed it in too late, why didn’t you speak up for me? You were there, you knew I handed it in time. All I needed was for you to tell him the truth, but you didn’t say a damn thing. Now I’m failing that class, and you know why this is the first time you’re hearing about this?”

Peter remained silent, but his eyes flickered, and the crease between his brows was evidence enough.

“Because you were too distracted giggling with MJ in the back. You didn’t even notice when I stormed out of that room, so don’t lie to yourself, Peter. You haven’t been by my side in a while now.”

You shook your head when Peter averted his gaze. Of course, he had nothing to say. Both of you knew it wasn’t just about that class. It was about the missed calls, the empty words, and all the times he had stood you up and let you down. At least he respected you enough to not deny it. No more white lies.

“See, this is the thing,” you began, swinging your leg over the window sill to step inside the room. You faced Peter and waited until his gaze drifted to yours. “You gave me your word and I was stupid enough to believe you. I trusted you. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, but you sat back and watched it beat me down because you were too busy falling in love with somebody else.”

Peter’s expression shifted and you turned your back to him. Seeing his frustration replaced by realisation was something you knew you couldn’t stomach.

So you made to leave. It was only when you were halfway through the room that you recognised the feeling simmering in your gut as something a bit different than resentment. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows lowered, and struggled to find your voice.

“Peter?”

It was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He tore his gaze from the floor and looked at you. Wild storms were trapped in his eyes, an ocean rising. It was devasting to look at.

But it was then that you realised, that although Peter had never cheated on you, his brown guilty eyes still made him a traitor. You took a deep breath.

“Just don’t treat her how you treated me,” was all you said. And with that, you were gone.

* * *

i’d really appreciate if you left some feedback since i barely ever write angst and want to know what you think:) stay hydrated guys

[mstrchu]

Ok so do you know the White Horse the Tang Sanzang ride on from Journey to the West? He's exactly called The White Dragon Horse (hope I got that right). Why is there the word "Dragon" in the title?

Well that's because his true title and real name are the West Sea Third Prince Ao Lie, yes he's Ao Bing's Cousin,yes he's a dragon prince of the sea royal family and he can transform into a horse apparently

This is uncertain due to many versions but yeah that's the gist of it

Also Ao Lie is literally the White Horse Prince OMG-

I wonder if we would see him in New Gods Nezha Reborn though

Another thing: Wonder how the rest of the sea dragon family in the last three directions thought about East Sea Dragon King being this evil CEO guy lol. That man has many versions and in Nezha Reborn, he's the worst I've seen so far

pre-emptive apologies for this rambling ☠️ i sincerely hope i dont come off as like. utterly insufferable

i know of ao lie! honestly props to him for being so cool about being a horse 95% of the time because if i went from being a dragon to being an animal that couldn't lie on its side for more than like 45 minutes without suffocating i would not have handled it as graciously as he did. also if we had a nickel for every time a dragon king's third prince that's commonly depicted as a white/silver dragon befell some disaster or disgrace we would have 2 nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice..

i'm also not sure if the dragon kings are brothers in the regular sense or just brothers in the way that they all sort of belong to the same.. clan (? for a lack of a better word) but it is funny to think of ao lie and ao bing as cousins svdsjkndv especially since ao bing would have died before the events of jttw but in more recent adaptations if ao bing survived (a la 2019) or came back (a la 2021) i think it would open a door of very funny possibilities.. i think i've read a few nzr fics where it's kind of a touchy subject for ao bing bc ao run will not stop bragging about his son at family gatherings ☠️

unless he pulled a sun wukong, i don't think we'll be seeing ao lie in new gods :( but i would love to be wrong..

(on a side note, if they're going to be featuring more people from fsyy, i would love to see their take on huang tianhua, leizhen zi, ji fa, and jiang ziya ;-;)

based on ao guang's menacing monologue to ao bing (lol) the dragon kings seem to have a somewhat tense relationship with a lot of past baggage, but it's not so bad that they didn't put it aside to help ao guang get revenge on nezha 3000 years ago ovo i've also been assuming that the other 3 families mentioned in nezha reborn (li/shun/song) belong to the other 3 dragon kings, and if so then ao bing and the yecha's comments about them when they first appear makes it sound like they've all got a really intense rivalry going on about control over their cities which makes me think the other 3 ALSO have CEO mob boss vibes?! but they don't have the same resources or the iron-grip control that ao guang has, and so ao guang is still the Big Boss in the family.. so i guess i would say that their thoughts are that they wish they could do it like him!!

what i would also love to know is what ao jia and ao yi and/or other siblings have been doing this whole time or at least what the public thinks they've been doing?? ao bing is publicly acknowledged in "modern day" donghai as the san gongzi so.. there has to be at least 2 other older gongzis out there... maybe kasha knows what the goss is..

also ur so right. 1979 ao guang may have been eating children but 2021 ao guang invented capitalism which is way worse 😔

holy shit sorry circling back to ao lie again he's kind of funky isn't he!! i don't know jttw as well, only from like cultural/childhood stuff, but iirc he did turn back into his human and dragon forms a few times when he felt like he needed to, which kind of makes it seem like he could have done that at any time and he was just. choosing to be a horse. which is dalfkdnvlknva because i feel there were quite a few times in jttw where it would have been helpful for him to be a dragon and/or person instead of a horse. also the song about him slaps.

[cryptiql]

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

[sonnetthebard]

This is kind of a crack idea, but I don't really care and I'm throwing it out anyway

Curt and Owen have to go undercover in a show for a mission(keeping an eye on one of the members of the cast maybe?). The show? Either Spies are Forever or a Hatchetfield show, take your pick -S

S anon... you have been waiting a while for this, and I apologize. With Headless, I needed a moment to recharge. So this is going to be a Modern! SAF fic. And as a treat, we're going original cast in an AU. That's right folks. Extra meta content. You asked for crack, you're gonna get crack. Please note: Most of the stories pertaining to the real people involved in this oneshot are made up based on what facts I know about them/ what I’m able to pick up on personalities. I don’t know any of these people personally, though. This is going to be such a ride, so buckle up.

Genre: Comedy/ Action/ Fluff

Words: 5639

TL;DR: Curt and Owen take the stage in order to monitor Chimera and one of their operatives. The thing is, they only have a vague clue as to who they're going after: he was one of the writers.

TW: Swearing, Guns, Fighting- But not much, this is mostly just gonna be a joke.

_________________________________________________

"Next we have... Curt Mega?" The longer-haired one read off, looking at Curt. "Cool name! We might have to use that- if, of course, that's okay with you."

"Oh... yeah, that's fine." Curt chuckled softly.

What, precisely, was Curt doing? Only the thing he'd vowed to Owen that he would never do (other than, of course, leave him): auditioning for a musical. Owen was a total theatre kid, and he'd done his share of musicals. Curt was always in the audience, but he'd jokingly told Owen that he would never be joining him up there. But... here he was. In an audition room. Curt never broke promises, not even joke ones. But these were... extenuating circumstances. In other words, this was for a mission and he had no doubt that Cynthia would actually kill him if he didn't follow through with his orders. Owen gave him a sly, triumphant smirk from across the room, where he was waiting for his audition. Curt got up, following the guy back further into the studio where they were holding auditions.

This mission was an odd one. It was monitoring a potential operative with Chimera Worldwide. Sure, they had the world by storm now- but A.S.S. was getting intel telling them that they might be breaching the privacy rights of people all over the world. In fact, Chimera may be a lot more criminal than they would seem to the naked eye. There was evidence coming to light of plots that could very well end in world domination. The worst part: apparently they were pretty plausible. One world government, puppeted by Chimera. That's why MI6 had sent Owen, and A.S.S. had sent Curt. They were their best agents, and a duo that had proven to work well together.

What did all of that have to do with a musical? To the average joe, nothing. Oh, Chimera had done well. They'd even declined to offer these guys a production grant so as to not seem shady. But... the A.S.S. had reason to believe that one of the writers and producers for the show that they were about to audition for was an operative for Chimera. Now, this play in and of itself may be an independent project. It may have nothing to do with Chimera. But... it was looking like the easiest way to monitor this operative, and so here Curt and Owen were. Owen was thrilled! He loved doing shows. He usually had to slot them into his schedule carefully, though. He couldn't do them during missions. So a mission where he was doing theatre was basically a dream come true for him.

Curt and Owen had chosen roles according to their experience with theatre. Curt had chosen to keep his name as his theatrical stage name, and Owen already did keep his name as a stage name. It was risky, but it also provided their names with a solid cover in the world outside of espionage. Owen had a legitimate resume built. That was why he was going for the lead, currently named 'JB' for 'James Bond' (subject to change). Curt, on the other hand, had stolen his resume from another actor named Curt Mega (who had fully agreed to that and signed an NDA and luckily enough happened to look like Curt). He had literally no acting experience, so he was going for a smaller role: The Informant and Ensemble. Both would likely have eyes on different parts of the production process and the cast. Hopefully they'd get a good idea of what was going on and who their target was. Maybe they'd even get to eliminate the threat! That was Curt's favourite part of missions.

"So, Curt... you did Glee?" The guy who had initially called him asked as they walked.

"Yep!" Curt lied.

"I recognize you! You were one of the Warblers- nice job on that solo in Uptown Girl, by the way." The man chuckled. Oh good. He was passable as the other Curt Mega. "I did Glee too. I was only there for, like, an episode though. But my buddy Darren... well, you probably know him."

"Yeah. He did a phenomenal job as Blaine." Curt smirked. Darren was also on an NDA. The government was being extremely careful.

"I'm Joey Richter. Me and my friends Brian and Corey wrote this show." The man introduced himself, extending his hand. Curt took it, giving him a firm shake. Joey smirked. "Damn... you've got a good shake."

"Thanks." Curt chuckled. He liked this guy. It was hard to imagine right now that he could be talking to an agent for one of the greatest evils known to man since... probably the Nazis. "I'm Curt... I mean, you know that, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Joey chuckled along with him. They walked into a room. Inside there were four other men. Two sat behind a table, Curt's supposed 'resume' and headshots laid out in front of them, a stack of papers on the side. Two other men shared a piano bench stationed by a keyboard. None of them were dressed particularly formally. Actually, they were all dressed pretty similarly to Curt. Short-sleeved patterned button-ups were about as formal as it got. So Curt and his black, white and gold striped short-sleeved button-up were in good company. "Hey, guys! This is Curt!"

"Hey! Welcome to the auditions for Spies are Forever!" One of the men behind the table smiled brightly. God, all of these men looked... so innocent. Curt couldn't see any of them being traitors to their country, much less mankind.

"Okay, so that's Brian. The guy beside him is Corey." Joey introduced. Corey waved. "The two guys at the piano bench are Clark and Pierce, our composers and band."

"Hey, Curt." Clark smirked.

"You brought your sixteen bars?" Pierce checked.

"Yep." Curt nodded, popping his 'p' and passing him the binder with his sheet music in it.

He'd brought Being Alive from Company, which Owen said was "such a cliche" and "a terrible choice for a comic show", but it was the song Curt felt most comfortable singing. So he was singing it anyways. Owen was very adamant that Curt had to be careful to actually be cast in the show, but Curt held that that song was his best chance. Curt had always thought he was an okay singer. He had his range that he shined in, and he used that. He never performed though. He wasn't that good. That's why he was going for a mostly non-singing role. He went over his cut with Clark, who was actually the one who would be playing for him. Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and gave it the old college try.

The odd thing, Curt thought, was that they seemed very into it. Either they were being very nice to him or they were genuinely enjoying the performance. Curt was a bit surprised by that. Owen was the performer among the two of them. Curt supposed it could just be the song. But then... something else unexpected happened. They asked Curt to do his cold read as 'JB'... and change the name to his own. 'Agent Curt Mega'. It was all getting a bit real for Curt. They liked him. And they liked his cold read. They were laughing during his cold read- and at all the right times! Curt was very confused. This wasn't where he was supposed to shine. He walked out of the audition room, and Owen was called in.

Owen really could not have come out sooner. Curt was anxious. What had he just done? He had given it his best because he thought that the best that could get him was ensemble. Was it going to get him more? Was he ready for more? He was past the point of no return, but... God, what had he just done? Owen came out of his audition, smug and content with himself. Apparently they'd asked him to read multiple sides. Curt hadn't the heart to tell him they'd asked him to read for the lead. A few days passed. Curt almost forgot that he'd even auditioned. That it had been so successful. Basking in the California sun could do that to you. But three days later, it all came back to him all too vividly.

"Curt, I got the email!" Owen announced from where he was lazing on the couch across from Curt in their hotel room. He sat up quickly, eager.

"What does it say?" Curt asked eagerly, sitting up with him. Owen scrolled down on his phone.

"Well... I'm in the show..." Owen furrowed his brows. "But... not in the role I thought. I got Deadliest Man Alive."

"Oh." Curt frowned. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted the lead."

"It seemed like a juicy part." Owen hummed, still a bit dazed by the rejection. "I was looking forward to it."

"I know, babe." Curt sighed, getting up and wrapping his partner in a hug. "Maybe this one will be even juicier!"

"Maybe..." Owen nodded. "Thank you, love. For trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, no problem!" Curt smiled softly.

"Did you get your email?" Owen asked.

"I... haven't checked." Curt admitted.

"Well go on, then! Sit! We'll check together!" Owen urged him. Curt sighed, sitting beside him and opening his email. Owen peered over his shoulder. The email from the Tin Can Bros was the first one that popped up right at the top. "Open it, Curt!"

"Okay..." Curt chuckled nervously, pressing the email to open it. He scrolled down, sighing in relief. "I got in, O."

"Congratulations!" Owen cheered, grinning. he was genuinely happy for Curt, and excited to be in the same show. "What role?"

"Let me scroll down..." Curt chuckled, before his heart stopped. Naturally, his laughter stopped with it, and his face fell.

"Love, what is it?" Owen furrowed his brows, concerned by the sudden mood shift. Immediately, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. "Curt, is there anything in there indicating that we might be compromised?"

"No..." Curt shook his head, staring at the role.

"Then... darling, what's wrong?" Owen blinked, before looking over his shoulder. His face fell to a state of shock almost equal to Curt's when he read the words, bolded on the screen: We would like to offer you the role of 'JB', renamed Agent Curt Mega. "Oh..."

_________________________________________________

Rehearsals for Spies Are Forever were potentially one of the best times Curt had ever had. Everyone loved him! Apparently, his voice was much better than he'd given himself credit for, as was his acting. Even Owen admitted it. It turned out Curt was perfect for the role. The songs fit right for him, the personality was spot on... the spy was even gay! It was as though it was written specifically for him to perform. Curt truly was having the time of his life. And Owen was loving the role of Deadliest Man Alive. It turned out it was a significantly juicier role than Curt's- funny, dark. And he even had a minor side comedic role to take on, Dick Big. So he could flex his chops in different area. There was a bit of a minor complication with the characters, though.

It turned out Curt's was not the only name that they'd liked. The Tin Can Bros had thought Owen's name was absolutely perfect... for Curt's partner turned villain. Romantic partner turned villain, to boot. They liked the ship name Curtwen. Ironically, both Owen and Joey were playing versions of Agent Owen Carvour- Owen playing him when he was in disguise as Deadliest Man Alive, Joey playing him out of disguise. Owen didn't make a fuss- he couldn't in the position he was in. But he didn't like being portrayed that way, or his name being used that way. The truth was, Owen had used to be morally grey. He'd had a phase where he'd almost betrayed his country and Curt. He'd very nearly done some terrible things. He wouldn't way who for, but Owen had implied it might have been Chimera. But he and Curt had worked through that, and he saw the error of his ways. It hurt seeing his name associated with villainy again. But for the sake of the mission, he literally could not complain.

As for the mission, they weren't really getting too far yet- and that wasn’t for lack of effort. As hard as finding a balance between rehearsal and espionage was, they’d managed to find a routine and stick to it. The work they were doing really should have been productive for them. They'd bugged all three writers and the two composers, but HQ (who was monitoring those so that the boys could focus on rehearsing so that they didn’t become too suspicious) was saying that they'd not gotten any suspicious activity from those except for Joey constantly being with an unidentified girl. But it seemed like that was his girlfriend and not another operative. So either this operative was smart and onto them or taking a hiatus from their work. Background checks were pretty clean. They were going purely off their interactions with these writers, which wasn’t really helping. All five of them were lovely. All five of them were also extremely smart. And all five of them had acting experience. Right now, though... Joey, Clark and Pierce weren't their main suspects. Joey was just too genuine to be bad, as were Pierce and Clark. Plus, if we're looking at technicalities (as Owen tended to), Clark and Pierce were composers, not writers. It was between Brian and Corey- unless something changed. Truly, it was anyone's game.

Owen and Curt were on break. It had been a hard day of rehearsal so far. Curt had just had to rehearse his pseudo-love-song with Mary Kate (who was lovely, but he was a bit jealous of- Owen had called her 'gorgeous' on multiple occasions now), and though it wasn't physically or musically demanding it was hard not to just start laughing. Especially with Curt, a gay man who had experienced this before. And Lauren played his meddling mother during the song, which only made it harder not to laugh. His own mother had no idea what he did or who he was seeing, and it was better that way. She just thought he was a single banker. He liked Lauren’s version of his mom better. She was way funnier. It had taken a bit of time just to get a run in where Curt wasn't giggling the entire time. The song was just so well written! He knew it was so unprofessional (and Owen had certainly reminded him of that) but he couldn't help it! And the Bros were laughing with him, so it was all good. He was glad to be on break, because his sides were killing him. He scrolled through his phone, checking for anything from HQ, before he felt a hand on his back.

"You know, Curt, I don't know if I've told you this lately but you're really, really great!" Joey told him.

"Thanks, man." Curt chuckled. "Thanks for the opportunity!"

"Thank you for coming out for our show!" Joey smirked. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Listen... you and Owen are dating, right?”

"Yeah..." Curt furrowed his brows. He and Owen had chosen to be open about that. They were all pretty supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. The actor playing Susan and The Informant had even confessed to him that they thought they might be nonbinary- maybe even female leaning. 

"Okay, so for the whole anniversary thing..." Joey fidgeted a bit nervously. "I mean... I've got an anniversary coming up, and, like, it's not my first, but... I think I’ve used every trick in the dating book at this point, and-"

"Wait, you're dating?" Curt blinked.

"Oh! Right, you're new!" Joey started to laugh. "Um... yeah! It's me and Lo."

"You and Lauren?" Curt smirked. He chuckled. "I knew it!"

"We're not public about the relationship yet, though, so... keep it quiet?" Joey pleaded.

"Oh yeah, you're safe." Curt assured him.

"So... any ideas?" Joey asked. “I really want this to be special for her.”

"Have you guys done the beach yet?" Curt offered. "Like, just a picnic- something you both love to eat- out on the beach."

"Yeah, did that two years ago." Joey sighed.

"Alright... how about a museum?" Curt offered. "It can be any museum that has something the two of you could bond over. But... I mean, Owen is super into experiencing art together."

"That we haven't done... not by ourselves on a date." Joey considered. "It doesn't even really have to be art, does it?"

"Nah, that's the beauty of museums! There are museums out there for everything." Curt smirked. “Maybe you two could go to a movie museum.”

"That’s probably more our speed.” Joey chuckled. “Thanks, man!”

"No problem.” Curt winked playfully. Then, he got an idea. He trusted Joey, so hopefully this worked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

"I mean, I kinda owe you one." Joey chuckled. “Ask away!”

"Have you noticed anyone... acting a bit weird? Like... different from the way they usually do." Curt whispered.

"I... think I know who you mean." Joey nodded. "With Mary Kate... I think she honestly just misses Sean, you know? The rehearsals are a long time for her to be away from him. Those two are so close."

"Yeah... yeah, that must be hard on her." Curt hummed sympathetically. That... wasn't what he'd been going for.

"But I don't know what's going on with Brian." Joey confided in him. "I mean, it's not like he's been acting weird, per se, but... I mean, he always used to be down to just hang after work. But recently, he's been too busy to do that? I honestly thought it was just me who was picking up on that, but like... you're noticing it too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Curt lied, all the sympathy he could muster in his tone. Bingo. He'd just gotten some really, really good intel there. If there was anyone who would be able to know when one of the writers was acting shady, it was Joey. They were his best friends. And Curt tended to agree with Joey anyways. Corey just didn’t give off villain vibes. Neither did Brian, but out of the two of them, Brian gave off more. “Glad it’s not just me.”

"What's he saying about me?" Brian rolled his eyes playfully, approaching his bag from behind them to grab something. Shit. He must have heard his name. 

"Uh..." Joey blushed.

"Oh, he was just telling me about how you two met." Curt lied. Joey gave him a questioning look. But Curt remembered him mentioning it in another one of his longwinded vents. "U of Michigan, Freshmen year. You two got into a lot of trouble."

"He's not telling you any of the bad stuff, is he?" Brian teased.

"Nah, man- I respect the bro code!" Joey scoffed playfully. Curt gave Joey a wink, and Joey gave him a grateful look in return. The wink hadn't gone unnoticed by Brian though.

"Oh god, he is telling you the bad stuff, isn't he?" Brian groaned playfully. "Listen, if Lauren asks, none of it was us."

"Oh don't worry... I'm great with secrets." Curt chuckled. He kinda wanted context now. Knowing those two, it was nothing serious- Joey had a heart of gold. He wouldn't be involved in anything bad. Especially not with his soon-to-be-girlfriend. So probably pranks, or other such shenanigans.

"Guys... I already knew it was you." Lauren rolled her eyes. None of them had noticed her by her own rehearsal bag picking up her water bottle. "It was so obvious... I may have believed you when you blamed Holden like... once? Twice? But you literally signed off half of the time."

"We did?" Joey blinked, looking at Brian.

"Okay, look, some of the time... I was pretty proud of our work." Brian defended himself.

"Dude!" Joey started to snicker. "And here I was keeping secrets from my girlfriend for you!"

"Sorry, Joey." Brian winced. 

“Eh, I guess I have to forgive you.” Joey rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re my best friend.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Lauren asked, noticing a pink piece of paper sticking out of Curt’s rehearsal bag. Curt blushed profusely. That was the letter Owen had written to pick him up. he took it everywhere with him in case he panicked so that he could read it, remember those days and calm down. It helped. He’d meant to keep it hidden. 

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Curt lied. 

“It’s not nothing, is it?” Lauren smirked. She gave him a genuine look. “Is it personal?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” Owen chuckled. Curt blushed further, feeling Owen wrap his arms around his waist. When had he gotten there?”

“What’s going on over here?” Corey asked, joining them. It seemed they had formed a rather large clump. 

“I think Lauren might be about to read the first letter I ever wrote to Curtis.” Owen smirked triumphantly, clearly not embarrassed by that prospect. 

“Ooooo romantic!” Tessa teased Curt. When had she shown up? God, for a spy, Curt was not very observant. He took a brief look at his surroundings. Ah. Everyone was there. Fantastic. 

“Oh hell yeah I am!” Lauren smirked. She plucked the paper out of Curt’s bag. 

“Oh god...” Curt groaned. 

“You okay with this?” Corey checked with Curt. Curt nodded reluctantly. 

“I mean, as long as O is.” Curt sighed, relenting.

With that, Lauren used the rest of their break to overdramatically read out Owen’s letter. Curt was a blushing mess, and Owen was grinning like an idiot. Evidently he was proud of himself- as he should have been. It was a good letter. At least Curt and Owen now had an idea of who to look into: Brian Rosenthal. It was a bit odd to think that Brosenthal might be a Chimera operative. He was a funny, quirky... he didn’t seem ruthless enough. Maybe they were wrong. But this was literally all the intel they could get at the moment. Mind you, they needed concrete evidence before they could actually do anything, but... at least they had a lead. Even if it was a weird one. The thing about espionage was that leads were usually weird. So they... well, they managed to bug all of the writers’ houses a bit more to give HQ more to work with, but especially Brian’s. That way the minute they had solid evidence, they could act. Well... not the minute. More like within about twenty minutes. But same difference. There was nothing else they could do. 

________________________________________________

Nothing happened through the rest of the rehearsal process. Literally nothing. No one did anything suspicious. Honestly, Curt and Owen were starting to think that their superiors were wrong. They were performing their shows- with excellent reception, might they add. People were loving Curt. The real Curt Mega was getting huge acclaim on Curt’s behalf. And the fans... well they were going mad. It was looking like the show would be a huge success- which meant two things. One, Curt was going to have to do more theatre. Cleary he was good at it. Two, his life as a spy was about to get more... complicated. IT turned out these guys had a bit of a cult following because they had been involved with a theatre group called Team Starkid? Curt knew about them from his mission briefing, but honestly he’d never thought that they were that big of a deal. When he’d confessed that to Owen he’d gotten a long lecture. Apparently Owen was also a fan, and that was half of why he was so excited to be doing this show. But that was a topic for another time. 

It was about the third show in when they finally got the evidence they had been looking for. It... was not when they’d planned to find anything. Actually, it was at the least convenient time. Between acts. It was also in the least expected way. Curt had to get his props for the top of Act Two. Owen decided to go with him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t a total and utter child. Honestly, they just meant to get their props before places. They were the only ones in that area backstage- the stagehands were resetting the stage and helping with costume changes/ tech issues. Well, they thought they were the only ones backstage. They should have been. But it turns out that someone else had anticipated the lack of people, and was using that to his advantage. At first, all Curt and Owen could hear were murmurs- not distinguishable in the slightest. Bey both gave each other a look before pulling out their real guns (which they hid on their costumes just in case) and following the sound. And that was when they saw him. The culprit behind all of this: Bri- Corey Lubowich? They lowered their guns a bit, staying dead quiet. That wasn’t what they’d been expecting. {erhaps this was a false alarm. 

“I am in the middle of a- no, I get that my work with you is important! Believe me, I know!” Corey hissed. “I just... tonight is one of my shows! I’m going on as the Prince! I- well can it wait half an hour? I mean I’d prefer two hours, but if I have to whip out my laptop backstage, I- well I’m kinda insisting on- come on, you guys know my theatre is important to me!”

“Okay... so we were wrong...” Owen whispered. 

“We don’t know that...” Curt reasoned. “It could be his family.”

“Of course I’m loyal! When have I not done what you said? I have sacrificed so much for you!” Corey fumed quietly. “Chimera is my life now! Not theatre, not my family or friends. Chimera! Do you know how fucking weird that is for someone my age?! I’m too young for all this corporate shit! No! No, of course that’s not what I’m saying just- can I have my night? Come on, this is really important.”

“Okay, I take that back.” Curt blinked, stunned. He was just a bit too loud. Corey’s head snapped in their direction, and both men raised their guns. Corey’s eyes fumbled, and he pulled out a gun of his own, haphazardly aiming it at them. 

“Okay... shit, guys, I’m going to have to call you back... we’ve got a situation.” Corey muttered. His face fell and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “No, not a theatre situation. An us situation. I’ll fill you in- look, they have guns. Just- I really don’t have the time for this anymore- NOT MY JOB WITH YOU! This conversation! Jesus, I’ve got two guns pointed at me! Let me go! Okay, fine! Bye!”

“You...” Curt spat, glaring at Corey. 

“You guys finally figured it out...” Corey sighed, raising his gun fully at them. 

“You know who we are?” Curt blinked. 

“How?” Owen asked him coldly. 

“Chimera has eyes and ears everywhere.” Corey rolled his eyes. “Just like in the show. I knew you were coming, and I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t think you’d actually find me.”

“Are you insulting our intelligence?” Owen scoffed. 

“No. I just thought I set up Brian pretty well.” Corey admitted. “It was pretty easy, too... all I had to do was point out to Joey that Brian wasn’t coming to as many of our hangouts as he used to. You trusted Joey. Joey relayed that to you. Threw you completely off my scent.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just the friend of the year.” Curt rolled his eyes. “You threw your bro under the bus.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get a false tip-off and eliminate him.” Owen hummed in agreement. “You’ve no clue the kinds of things that could set our superiors off.”

“Well... It’s Brian. The chances of him doing anything sketchy are slim to none.” Corey reasoned. 

“Corey, I’m going to need you to put that gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Curt sighed. 

“Alright, guys, places!” Joey called out to them. Everyone was backstage- except, oddly, Lauren (who was usually pretty punctual on cues). Shit. Their timing was awful. “You can play with the... are those our prop guns?”

“No... those are too modern.” Brian furrowed his brows, approaching them to get a closer look. He blinked before stumbling back. “Holy shit, guys... are those real guns?”

“Yes, they are... and you’re going to need to stay back.” Curt told them levelly. “Lubowich, gun down, hands behind your head.”

“We outgun and outman you.” Owen reminded him. The fact that Corey was so reluctant was astounding. “And we have a license to kill if you don’t cooperate.”

“Okay, guys, what the fuck?!” Joey exclaimed. 

“Can we just... put the guns down and talk this out?” Tessa pleaded. 

“No... we can’t.” Curt shook his head. “My name is Agent Curt Mega, American Secret Service. My partner is Owen Carvour, MI6.”

“Our credentials...” Owen muttered, pulling them out with one hand and holding them out to Brian, who was closest. He hesitantly took them. Corey shot Owen while he wasn’t in peak position to shoot him. Curt shot Corey back with no hesitation. Neither shot was fatal, Corey’s hitting Owen in the arm and Curt’s hitting Corey in the shoulder. The impact was enough to make both men stumble back. Owen stayed on his feet, but Corey fell. Curt kept his gun trained on Corey. 

“Holy shit, they’re not lying...” Brian mumbled. 

“Okay, Corey... what the actual fuck, man?!” Joey fumed, definitely feeling a bit betrayed. 

“Corey... why are you fighting the secret service?” Mary Kate asked coolly, trying to be the level-headed one. 

“He works for Chimera.” Curt told them, knowing they might not get a clear response from Corey for a bit. 

“The assholes who wouldn’t fund us?” Brian groaned. Corey grunted in admittance. “Come on, man! This just keeps getting worse and worse!”

“Okay, guys, I’m here. Sorry I took so-” Lauren started, rushing out. She saw the scene playing out and blinked. “Holy fuck! What’s going on?!”

“They’re actual fucking spies, Lo.” Joey hissed. “All three of them.”

“Pretty sure Curt and Owen are the good guys.” Brian added in a whisper. 

“Oh yeah, Curt and Owen are definitely the good guys.” Tessa gulped. 

“Corey is an agent for Chimera.” Curt explained. 

“Please tell me this is an elaborate prank.” Lauren chuckled nervously. 

“No, Lo... this time it’s real.” Joey sighed. 

“Okay, but... Chimera’s just a huge global corporation, right?” Mary Kate reasoned. 

“Not really.” Corey croaked out. 

“They’re plotting world domination.” Owen grunted. 

“Corey...” Joey breathed. 

“World domination makes it sound bad.” Corey grimaced. “We more just want control over every world government... and then maybe to take all of them out and form one Chimera government.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better.” Tessa winced. 

“Why?” Brian asked Corey, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly, I just needed a bit of extra money in college.” Corey muttered, trying and failing to find his footing. Clearly he wasn’t a field agent too often. 

“So you turned to espionage?!” Lauren scoffed incredulously. 

“Honestly I started as a delivery boy and then I found out some shit I should never have known...” Corey sighed. “It escalated really quickly.”

“God, this is a mess.” Joey groaned. 

“Curt, love, can you give our superiors a ring?” Owen prompted him. “I’ll deal with our former friend here.”

“On it.” Curt nodded, pulling out his phone. 

“So... do we stop the show?” Brian asked Owen as he pulled out a zip-tie- another essential item Owen always kept on him, even in costumes.

“Oh no... the A.S.S. is the epitome of discretion. Believe me, you’ll have no clue what’s going on. Just see if you can find a friend in the audience to go on for The Prince.” Owen told them, tying up Corey and forcing him onto his feet. “Owen will take him outside and... he should honestly be ready to go on after We Love The Prince.”

“Holy shit... okay...” Lauren sighed. 

“I’ll make an announcement that we’re having technical difficulties...” Joey planned. “Let’s, um... just take a moment to breathe and get back into the right headspace.”

“We’ll be back in a moment.” Curt told them as he and Owen took Corey outside. 

“Rot in hell, you asshole!” Brian called after him, sniffing. Was he... crying? You know what, it was completely fair. That was one hell of a betrayal. 

So Curt and Owen passed Corey onto their superiors, and Spies Are Forever was able to go on. They got Nick Lang to play The Prince, which only made the fans more excited. Curt and Owen were allowed the opportunity to finish their run with the show- which Curt was so, so grateful for. He loved theatre. he never thought he would, but he loved it. And Owen loved that he loved it. Spies are Forever was the first of many shows for Curt. He got into the habit, like Owen, of doing shows between missions. In fact, he actually got to make Owen a little jealous later on- he got into a Starkid show. Mind you, they knew who he was. Fully this time. They even supported him- helped him build a public backstory. The real Curt Mega’s wife even played wife to him publicly when she needed to. It was a new start in Curt’s life and one that he hadn’t even known he needed. Finally, everything seemed like it was okay.

[liquid-luck-00]

Queen Marinette

Queen Marinette

Here is a ~2000 word song fic that I wrote in place of working on my ongoing fics hope you guys like it.

I saw a post a while ago where Damian would call Mari Queen/Your Majesty as she was a princess, but i cant find the post anymore but the idea stuck so here we are.

~~~~~~~~~~

The League of Assassins also known as the League of Shadows is one of the Earth's best kept secret society second to Themiscyra home of the Amazons and Atlantis of the Atlantans. However there is one that only a handful know and whispers of their existence are mythical in the cosmos. Only known to the head families, or rulers, of Themiscyra, Atlantis, and the League of Assassins.

That would be the Kingdom at Miraculi.

Marinette is anything but a normal girl. She is the crowned princess of Miraculi as well as being the reincarnation of the goddess Tikki. She is creation herself, but on top of that she was blessed by the other gods as well, meaning she is able to wield their gifts as well. She is Princess Marinette Dawntreader of Miraculi.

But right now she wants to be anywhere but the palace. At the age of eight she just met her betrothed and let's just say he did not make a good first impression.

In front of her stood Damian Al Ghul the heir of Demons and next head of the league of shadows. The league is the guard of Miraculi, ensuring that the existence of the Kingdom remains peaceful and in turn the Kingdom of Miraculi supplies the magic of the Lazarus Pit. The concealment of Themiscyra and Atlantans able to survive under water are other blessings provided by Miraculi. But back to the pain on hand, Damian Al Ghul.

"Tt. you really do look the part of a princess" she was in a long flowing dress with long sleeves as she had finished her classes for the day. "Fragile and helpless."

"Yes and you appear as a demon" she shot back. "self-absorbed and arrogant" she turned on her heel "keep up little Prince" she called over her shoulder.

They got to know each other better but he was always so cold and distant. But they grew to love each other. Damian left to be with his father when they were 10, but they still stayed in contact. Then when they were 13 she got news that broke her heart, Damian was dead.

She couldn't stay in the Kingdom without remembering him. She needed distance and new scenery wouldn’t hurt. So she brought it up to her parents, and they were reluctant, but Diana Princess of Themiscyra brought up the solution Marinette would be staying with Sabine Cheng, an Amazon who was granted leave of Themiscyra , and her husband Tom Dupain.

That was how she found herself in Paris as an 8th year introducing herself as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

That was how she also met Adrien Agreste. He was kind and sweet. He was new to school life just as she was new to life outside of Miraculi.

But not long afterwards did Lila Rossi enroll at Du Ponte.

With a quick search on google revealed most of her tales to be just that, fiction.

Adrien and Mari dated for two years before he ended the relationship. It was because she

wouldn't stop trying to reveal Lila's lies. That it was hurting his image that he was seen with her. That if only they knew the truth it would be enough. Well, fine, goodbye Adrien was her only thought. Her head held high.

Cross my heart and hope to die

I don't need another guy

To fight my battles, to overshadow me

Don't ya know I'm dangerous?

Fire burnin' in my blood

I got this handled, I don't need rescuin'

Unfortunately for him she didn't stop trying to get her class to see the truth.

A side effect of the liar's influence was that she was ostracized from the rest of the class.

But that wasn't a priority. Miraculi was going to become public. So she had a revealing ceremony to prepare for.

But before that she was asked to join as a joint member of the Teen Titians and Young Justice.

She was to meet with the two teams at Mt. Justice so she was looking for Kaldur, Aqualad, as she exited the building.

She was making her way towards him when she heard it.

"Princess" Adrien called and pulled her to look at him.

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

"Can I do something for you Agreste?" she asked as calmly as she could. "Because if not I am meeting a friend I haven't seen in ages."

"Just make up with Lila" he started "she isn't hurting anyone. And when you do everyone will be your friend again."

She smiled and noticed Kaldur closer than before. "Kaldur good to see you again how was your flight?" Adrien turned to see who she was talking to, and Kaldur after a second of shock responded.

"Uneventful, is everything set?" he asked giving her a way out.

"Yes" Mari answered "Sorry Adrien, another time"

"B- 02 Aqualad, B- 34 Omni"

She was in a black formfitting sleeveless top that rose to form a mask covering her face to her nose. Dark red combat boots that were tucked into black motorbike pants. A red belt with a forest green sash that faintly resembled a skirt just under it. Her gloves and arm guards were black and grey, and all over were golden accents. Her hair was cut short and was pitch black and her eyes were a golden color with flecks of green. (Outfit)

After quick introductions she noticed him, Robin of the Teen Titians, was standoffish but was familiar oh so familiar. Then she saw his hand twitch towards his sword and tapped the butt of the hilt twice before dropping his hand.

That was all the confirmation she needed. As everything fell into place.

That little jerk.

Batman asked for her to spar, to assess her combat skills. As she predicted Robin stepped in to be her partner.

She pulled two red batons from the small of her back and they began. Yes they were evenly matched but then she decided to mess with him. She turned back time to feign a right but ducked and swept his legs from under him. With him distracted she created a Mirage of herself and another to make herself invisible. She snuck up behind him used venom to freeze him and flip his cape over his head while her Mirage took his sword.

"Tt. unfreeze me" he practically growled she noticed almost everyone flinch and took a step back.

"You sure that's what you want, while I have your sword?" she taunted. She noticed a few shot her looks of sympathy. Odd. As Robin stayed quiet. "Fine" she dropped venom and he charged "Have it your way little Prince."

She jumped and he seemed to freeze mid charge but she didn't. She created a shell-ter around him.

Which he crashed into. He stood up and was gaping at her.

She dropped shell-ter and was making a few final decisions with Batman, while Robin still hadn't moved 30 minutes later and his mouth still agape. By this time Nightwing had come over.

"I think you broke little wing" he chuckled.

"You think so." she responded with a slight question. "Close your mouth your going to catch flies Al Ghul."

"Yes, Your Majesty" he finally snapped out of his stupor.

She saw Nightwing and Batman share a look and then look between the two of them.

I'ma show you

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

So treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

They explained the role of Miraculi in the world. How they had met and knew one another. Their engagement and finally the reopening of the Kingdom to the world. By now she dropped her transformation, meaning her eyes were back to bluebell and her hair was a midnight blue, and the bats had taken off their masks.

Then an idea hit.

"Your plotting something" Damian snapped her out of her planning.

"Plotting makes it seem malicious" she paused "I'm planning."

"I'll bite, what are you planning?" Nightwing, Dick as he introduced, asked.

"How would you like to come to my coronation and be some of the first outsiders in Miraculi?" she responded.

Eyes on me like I'm a prize

But you better recognize

I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

As she guessed the news of Miraculi opening up was all the news was covering. The hidden Kingdom known only by the Amazons and Atlantans, officially, was all everyone was talking about.

The fact that the opening was set for the coronation of the princess added to the suspense.

About a month before our teacher had news. "Due to a special invitation our class has been invited to attend the Princess’ coronation in Miraculi" that was when the class erupted.

In a week Lila convinced everyone she personally asked the Princess to invite the class as a favor to her. That she grew up in the castle with her and was made a lady in waiting. Two weeks until the coronation, she asked Damian to tweet that 'he can't wait to see his best friend again in Miraculi.’ Which caused a small discourse with a boy called Jon Kent of how he was Damian's best friend. Where he answered with 'female best friend. Better Kent' That Lila used to say it was her, and that he only used best friend instead of girlfriend.

I'ma show you

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

So treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

The week before they left to Miraculi, in order to show them around. Before landing Mari changed into an emerald green dress with a mandarin collar. A jacket and belt with a duster in a dark silver trimmed with gold and matching gloves. Her hair was in a side braid and a thin golden circlet on her brow. A few of her classmates glared at her but she didn't pay them any attention. (Outfit)

She was the last out of the airport and you could feel the tension in the air. Lila was spouting some nonsense to the guards that were sent to retrieve them. Then they noticed her, every guard formed a straight line to the captain as they dropped onto one knee and bowed their heads. As she passed them they stood up.

"Captain Chase it is good to see you again” she smiled as he also rose.

"The honor is mine Princess" he bowed again.

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want,

She turned back to face the class. "Welcome to Miraculi, I am Princess Marinette Dawntreader. I hope you enjoy your stay. The guards will escort you in these carriages to the castle for your stay." she mounted Yin (Silver), who Captain Chase brought for her. "I will ride ahead, as they are in capable hands." She smiled and rode off towards home.

The next week was amazing. Between tours of the Kingdom her classmates were part of an honorary court, to glimpse into the Royal life.

Damian almost cut off Lila's head the first time they met. Most of the class realized that if Lila lied about knowing Marinette, well the Princess but Lila hated Mari, and dating Damian, what else had she lied about. Turns out they can use google and Mari received several apologies and offers to be friends. She accepted the apologies but not their offers.

"Why?" was a consensus of the group.

"You realize that you were deceived, but that does not excuse your actions. As I am also assuming you wish to be friends because of my status." That seemed to force them to think, thank Kwami.

I'ma show you

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

So treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty?"

But the best part of this week was after the apologies was hearing them all, Lila included, only address her with 'Your Majesty’.

[ficsforeren]

First of all, hiiiiii! How are you doing? I missed you! I hope you’re well and your baby is doing well too. So I’m not really big on zombie apocalypse settings because I’m a wimp and I get scared easily. But is there a happy ending there where… you know like Eren or the reader don’t die and end up happy together. Or because it’s based off of that Will Smith movie then Eren is going to die and then they find out there’s actually a larger community of human beings than expected and at least Eren dies knowing Y/N is safe

And so I have a theory about The Lies We Told. You said no happy ending right? It’s mentioned that Y/N’s great great grandfather wiped out Eren’s family. And now all of a sudden Eren ends up near the castle with his memory wiped and he’s badly injured? So what if the original plan was to send Eren to infiltrate the castle or I don’t know he was supposed to kill off the royal family. Now all of a sudden he gets injured and he lost his memory. So the original plan is out the window because Eren is now in love with Princess Y/N. Aside from the whole love triangle thing with Armin, what’s gonna happen if or when Eren gets his memory back? Are there more Jaegers or enemies of the royal family plotting to wipe them out? Oh my god, does Y/N end up dying in Eren’s arms? Cause Eren did request from King Erwin that all he wanted was to be with his daughter…

The last song broke me and in the original ending Eren died so for your knight!Eren series would Y/N die this time? Or would that be too predictable. Or would you pull something similar to the manga where Eren dies at the hands of the one he loved the most and wow I can just go on and on.

Let me just end off with thanking you for the last song spin off. I really needed that happy ending where Eren doesn’t die and gets to see his kids grow up and be with the love of his life. And most of all, I get to imagine where Eren is in love with me and we have a stable home life

I’ve noticed you’ve been popping out fics left and right. I hope you’re prioritizing your health and getting plenty of rest. Do you also have any tips for writer’s block? I‘ve been struggling with it for months and it’s just been a road block.

Anyway, sorry for the spiel. But bottomline I hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself!

HELLO THERE, DARLING!!!! I'm so so so so sooooo sorry for the late reply omg I keep answering my new asks instead of my older ones I'm so stupid forgive me 😭😭😭

let me start by saying THANK YOU FOR THE LONG MESSAGE AAAHHHHHH I LOVE THIS I LOVE YOU YOU ARE SO PRECIOUS

I've been well, thank you for asking! I hope you are too ❤️

omg you don't have to read it if zombie au isn't your cup of tea, darling, I can understand why it would be scary! I tried my best to not make it scary though. I've been focusing more on the fluffy, slice-of-life parts where they get to be besties and fall in love and everything. as for the ending, I can't say anything yet because I don't want to spoil it to my readers but if you're expecting a happy ending... well, remember that I'm kanayama. I'm allergic to happy endings, apparently 💀

your theory for the lies we told? close, but not quite. I wish I could tell you the whole thing but I have to keep my lips shut for now. Thank you for sharing your theories though! It's very interesting to see my readers coming up with theories for my fics lmaoooo

you're very welcome, darling! I'm glad you liked In Another Life! I hope I could post another chapter soon. I'm trying to finish Never Let Me Go atm but after that, maybe I can go back to rockstar eren hehe

tips for writer's block? umm well every time I have one i just close my macbook and watch movies/tv shows instead. it can take my mind off things and i can get some inspirations from there so i'll feel motivated to write again. just remember not to force yourself to write. writing, for me especially, is supposed to be a way for you to escape reality. it's a stress-relief so what's the point of writing if it will only make you feel even more stressed? just do it when you feel like it ❤️

[mochikeiji]

Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."