#and secondly. we gotta point out the obvious with them

[moolthecow]

i ain't gonna sugarcoat it.

[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 1

Summary:  When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Pairings:  Frank Adler X Reader (Past), Ransom Drysdale X Reader (Present)

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, too many cowboy/bull riding innuendos, swallowing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  4.7K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Hey, watch it,” Mindy pulls you out of the way of a group of rodeo clowns that were heading to the ring.  “You always gotta have a watchful eye.  You’re okay, come on.  So we’re going to be stationed beside the fence.  This isn’t some big time rodeo, so don’t get attached.”

“What?” You asked confused, trying to keep up with the fast moving nurse that you were going to be stuck with for the evening.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she rolls her eyes looking straight ahead.  “First off, get on some birth control.  Don’t let these cowboys drag you down.  Secondly, don’t become some buckle bunny to these local boys.  You want to make it to the big time.  Travel to the big arenas; Cheyenne, Arlington, Houston, ya know?”

“I’m not following,” she stops abruptly, and turns around.  Her big doe eyes look you up and down, and she chuckles.  “This is literally my first rodeo.  I answered an ad.  And here I am.”

“Yeah, they keep hiring pretty ones,” she was talking about herself like she was hideous.  Mindy was adorable.  Tiny little thing with bright green eyes.  She lifts up her left hand, showing you her rings, “I’m taken.  They stay away from me.”

“Who is they?” Her arm goes out to her side, and she gestures towards the backsides of dozens of men in cowboy hats, tight shirts, and tighter jeans.  

“Bull riders.  They’re a dime a dozen.  They’ll talk this big game here, because they need a place to wet their dicks for the night.  If they’re lucky, dumb, and have enough they go on to the next county and find them another one.”

“Buckle bunnies?”

One cowboy happens to turn around, and it’s glaringly obvious what buckles she was referring to.  He had a giant silver buckle, bow legged, tall, and dangerously handsome, “And that one is the worst of them all.  Stay away,” she smiles at him, and gestures with her hands to shoo, “Nu-uh, Steve, we don’t want whatever it is your peddling.  We’re working,” even though she was talking to this man like he was a dog, she still opens her arms wide for a quick hug.

He extends a hand out to you with a crooked grin, and you reach yours out to him, “Well, hello darlin’, you look new here.”

“She is, and my help, go on with your boys.  I’m sure we’ll see you and Frank later.”

“Now, that’s not nice.  I’m not near as reckless as him.  I can’t help it, he can never get the points that I do.”

“And you can’t help that he’s more charming than you.  Goodbye, Steve,” she grabs your hand, pulling you over to the nurses station, and you keep your eyes ahead of you.  It was like he was a predator searching for his next prey, and you were just there for the taking.  Waiting on the sidelines for him to sink his talons into you.

“Steve is trouble.  He is one that will make you fall in love in one night, and you never hear from him again, unless he gets another itch.  The bunnies all go after him because he’s the top rider.  Bucky is the one you go after.  Sweet as southern tea.  He’s going to make a real fine husband, but Frank…he has no quittin’ sense.”

“What do you mean,” you look back towards Steve and his friends.  One seemed particularly taller than the rest.  

“He’s gonna end up dying for a buckle.  He won’t hurt you for another woman.  He’ll hurt you for another ride,” the tallest of the group gives you a big smile, and tips his hat towards you, and your head spins to look back at Mindy.  “Great.  You’ve been caught hook, line, and sinker.  Don’t let those long legs, tight ass, and smirk get you.  You are here to work.  You are not here to chase around some cowboy.”

“You never have?”

“That is beside the point.”

“Steve?”

“I ain’t never chased him.  He found me.  I’m just telling you, I’ve lost a lot of nurses because they can’t leave them be.  Cowboys can’t be trusted.  Find you someone who sponsors one.  You get the glamor of the rodeo, and get the security of money,” she tilts her head, and blows a kiss at a businessman in a booth.  “That’s my Johnny.  He’s a representative for Wrangler, and he looks even better in them.”

“So…”

“Just say no to the cowboys, ya got it?”

“Yeah.  Completely got it,” and yet you still find your way to look back to Steve and his group, and your eyes go back to the tallest one.  He definitely looked like trouble, and you hoped that he was Bucky.

“We’re up,” Mindy grabs your arm, cussing up a storm.  The both of you race to the side of the ring, pushing past the cowboys next to the chute, “Dammit, Frank,” she pushes the tall cowboy down in a chair, and he yells up at her, “Oh, don’t act like you don’t get off on this pain.”

“Well, I ain’t done it.  It’s just part of the job.  Don’t touch me,” he jerks his head out of her way, looking back in the ring, “Would somebody get my damn hat?”

“Frank, your wound needs cleaning,” Mindy groans, still trying to get to the gash in his head, but he smacks her hand out of the way.

“Yeah, and you’re rough.  I want her to do it,” she shakes her head no, but you get that enticing grin, “You can butterfly a wound up, right?” You nod your head, stepping closer to him.  “Usually Mindy here just straddles my legs to get closer to me.”

“Frank!”

“I’m just saying,” trying to prove to Mindy you weren’t some buckle chaser, you push his head back, and lean over him.  “You got a name, sweetheart?” You give him your name, while you clean the wound, “That’s a real pretty name.  You know you stick your tongue when you do that?”

“I do not.”

“Ow!  Dammit that stings.”

“Alcohol usually does.  Hold still, ya big baby.  You’re acting like this hurts worse than being thrown from that big bull.  You gotta death wish or something?”

“No,” his legs spread out even more, and he sinks down lower into the seat.  Mindy, seeing you had everything under control, walks away, watching as the next rider preps himself.  “You wanna know what the problem is?  Why Steve always looks like the big time hero?  It’s the draw of the bulls.  You know what he always gets?  Ole Blue or Kensington, the smallest ones.  You know who I always get?”

“Ole Red or Blue Bonnet?”

“She’s got jokes,” he chuckles, stilling while you butterfly his cut.  “No, his name is the Hornet.  He’s the biggest and meanest, and I still get my eight seconds, so I’m not too concerned.  It’d be nice to start winning every once in a while though.  Steve gets it easy, and the crowd loves him.  I get it hard, but I got loyal fans.”

“The ones that follow you to your hotel after a ride?”

Someone hands Frank his hat, and you remove your gloves, giving him a knowing look, “You've been talking to Mindy too much.  Trust me, I got more rides in me than on a bull.  I ride horses, too.  Used to ride sheep.  I don’t get a girl in every city.”

“Oh?  You get one and make her chase you around?”

“I’ll let you know when I find one,” before you realize what was happening, someone bumps into you, knocking you straight into Frank’s lap.  “I got cha.  You gonna need a bandage, darling?”

“No.  I’m good.”

“Gotta watch these rough riders.  They just don’t know when to pay attention to a lady in their way.”

“Are you a rough rider, Frank?”

“I caught ya, didn’t?  I’d say I’m a gentle rider, but all kinds of fun.  I’m not who you think I am.  And I’m far from what Mindy says I am,” he was definitely cute.  This must have been the charm she was talking about.  It wasn’t just those tight jeans, there was this sweetness under his shameless flirting.

“She says you’re reckless.”

“Well, that I am.  But I ain’t Steve.  I ain’t got the time or patience to deal with those,” you give him a head nod, starting to walk back to your post.  “Do I get your number or something?  I’m also clumsy.  It might be nice to have someone patch me up.  You did such a good job.  I don’t even feel it.”

“I hope you score well tonight, Frank,” you were currently walking backwards.  You didn’t want to fall for him, but you figured it was too late.  It had been too long since you even talked to a guy, much less one that looked that good in jeans, and knew how to handle a horse, in his case a bull, too.

“I’d score better if I got a number!” You bite your lip, shaking your head no.  “You going to the next county?”

“She is Frank.  Get to the chute, it’s Bucky’s turn,” Frank puts his hat on his head, giving you a quick nod, before walking off.  He was making sure you saw just how good he looked in them jeans, and Mindy made sure you knew that she saw you looking.  Giving you a whack in the back of your head, “Don’t fall in love with a cowboy.”

“You said that he…”

“I know what I said, and I stick behind it.  I’m saying that is your kryptonite.  Stay away.  You’re going on tour with me.  And I like you.  That was clean work on Frank.  You’re just easily distracted.”

“Does he always get hurt?”

“Just about every damn rodeo.  He can’t gracefully fall off the bull.  He makes sure it’s dramatic as hell.  Remember…”

“Got it,” you take a drink from your water bottle, glancing over at Frank, Steve, and Bucky.  Frank should have been helping tie Bucky’s hand off, but he kept glancing back at you, “What about having some fun with him?”

“You think you can have fun with Frank and not fall in love?  Not fall for that sweet accent, and charming smile?”

No, you didn’t.  You were already too far gone.  Already distracted by the man with blue green eyes.  A tall drink of water that you wouldn’t mind seeing after the rodeo.  Mindy knew it, too.  Knew that Frank had found him a girl that was easy to follow him around from show to show, because that’s exactly what you were going to be doing.  Steve loved the draw of a girl coming to him.  Bucky was too shy to even consider talking to a girl.  While Frank, if it wasn’t for his penchant for painful behavior to himself, would have been the one.  He didn’t break hearts, he broke bones.  

“Mhmm…already gone.”

“Shut up.”

“Here,” she gives you a quarter and starts laughing.  “Keep this in between your legs.  If it falls while you're around him, you’re in trouble,” you toss quarter at her, and try to watch Bucky.  It was your job description to watch him.  Ready to assist where you could, but you were failing.  Frank had already got your attention.

“I’m serious.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mmm,” his lips kiss up your stomach, and between the spears of your tits.  Kissing up your neck, giving your jaw a little nibble, before his body hovers over you, “Ransom, what are you doing?”

“Morning to you, too, Buns.  I was just trying to be sexy and romantic.”

“If we weren’t having dinner with your parents today it would be,” he sits up, still having his knees on either of you, but nods his head.  “Ran, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right.  We’ve had this conversation. I wished Harlan was my father, but unfortunately I got stuck with Linda and Richard.  But, I have a very important question to ask Greatnana.  And you are going to wear the pretty little dress that I bought just for the occasion,” you try and open your mouth, but he places his whole hand over it. “And, in a few weeks we’re going to Montana.”

“Why are we doing that again?”

“You miss your family.  You talk about that place nonstop.”

“I do love it here.”

“You love the estate.  Love not having anyone around.  And then my parents show up, and you get all feisty and cute, because they call you the help,” you roll your eyes, but still give him the softest smile.  “I don’t tell you enough, but I’m glad you came here.  I don’t know what I would have done had you not been here for Harlan.  You acted fast.”

“And you fell in love,” his hands go to your side, and he starts tickling you.  Making your body thrash around, and he knew how much you loathe tickling.  If it wasn’t for his sweet little face, laughing along with you, it would be much more annoying.  “You did.”

He stops abruptly, and starts sinking lower on you again, “As did you, Bunny.  If I recall you fell asleep on my shoulder.  You held my hand.  I never had anyone that comforted me.”

“You needed it.  And I couldn’t just leave Harlan.  I had to make sure those nurses knew what they were doing.  They weren’t.  I told them he was already on blood thinners, and that they had to chase his veins.”

“And I thank you for that.  Gave him round the clock care, without pay,” you glare up at him.  You most definitely did get paid.  Your rent was paid for the whole year.  “You didn’t have money in your hand.”

“I did get a date out of that stay.”

“You did.  I’m so glad you asked.  And I’m also so glad that I got to realize that I can go out to eat and not even spend a hundred dollars.  And that’s with drinks and dessert.”

“We’ve upgraded to appetizers, too,” you give him a little reminder.  He loved your morning giggles.  Was addicted to them.  His mornings with you were always so special.  A bit sexy, but mostly it was just sweet.  The two of you together, alone for the moment, before a dual shower, to save water of course, and head to the estate.  Ransom opted not to work at the office as much since you had started working there.

“Speaking of which, is there a Longhorn in Montana?”

“Yes,” you give him a little smack to his arm, and he dramatically flops over on his back.  “Come on, let’s get our shower.”

“Can we get a quickie in at lunch time?  I know just the place we haven’t tried.”

“I have to be presentable for dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale.”

“Those two ruin everything.”

“How about I give you road head on the way home?” Pulling you over top of him, he gives you a kiss to your nose, and then your lip.

“I’d love that,” he whispers in your mouth.  “And I love you.”

“And I love you, Ransom.  Come on, shower.  Harlan and I need our coffees.”

“Ransom needs his coffee, too.”

“Hey, I caught up with you,” Frank jogs up behind you, while you finally load your final bag into your car, and slam the trunk closed.  “Am I going to see you in the next county?”

“Seeing how I signed a contract, yes.  You’ll be graced with my presence for the next few months.  What are you needing, Frank?”

“You remembered my name,” ugh, it was slightly infuriating the way the man looked with his mud covered clothes, sweaty skin, and popped up cowboy hat, trying to avoid his wound that you had patched up earlier.  You start to head into your car, and he chases after you, opening the door for you, “I was wondering, I mean…the boys and I usually find us some bar to go to after rides, and there’s usually dancing.  Would you want to go?”

“You’re asking me to dance with you, and your clothes are all dirty?  You sure know how to make a woman swoon,” backing yourself into the car, you smile at him.  Needing to close your door, but he still held on.  “Frank, give me my door.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Didn’t say yes either.”

He gives you a chuckle, his eyes looking down at his worn state.  “What if I took a shower?  Got all freshened up.  The beer at these bars is usually stale, but the music is decent.  We got us a hotel room down the road from the bar.  It’s in walking distance,” you scoff, pulling at the door even harder, “That’s not what I meant.  Honestly.”

“If you want someone to chase your buckle around, I’m sure there’s plenty.”

“I done told you, I don’t want no buckle chasing bunny.  If I did, I wouldn’t be offering to buy you cheap beer, willing to dance out in public with you.  Bunnies are good for one thing.  You’re not that,” he lets your door go, closing it for you.  “It’s the Wild Horse.  Just come on by.  It’d be nice to see you in something besides scrubs.”

“Goodbye, Frank.”

“You still didn’t say no,” you didn’t.  And maybe you were crazy or a glutton for punishment, but you wanted to see him out of those chaps.  Wondered if he wore the hat out in public, too, or if he wore something different.  You had too many thoughts running in your mind, but you were curious.

“I know that look,” Mindy leans in your open window.  “Did you learn nothing?”

“No,” you pout at her.  He was cute, no he was hot.  And while it was silly, could it be so bad.  “Is he that bad of a guy?”

“No.  He’s honestly not.  Just remember, his first love is the rodeo.  If you’re wanting to tame him and have your ranch and family with him, I’d say you need to just walk away.  It would take a special woman for Frank to stop this life.”

“I just don’t want to go back to my hotel alone, and sit there watching reruns of some show that I’m not even paying attention to,” it was innocent enough and true.  You just wanted to have fun.  Do things you hadn’t done before.  That was the purpose of this job.  You wanted to see what was out there, even if it was from a rodeo.  

“Don’t get your heart set on changing the man, and you’ll be fine.”

Steve kicks at Frank’s chair, the man hadn’t stopped staring at the door.  A steady round of pitchers of beer kept his belly full.  But he was hoping you showed up.  “Let’s play pool.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Darts?  You haven’t played darts in a while.”

“Nope,” Steve looks over at Bucky who hadn’t stopped dancing with a girl he met at the bar.  She thought it was going to be more than that.  That Bucky was going to get in a heated kiss and take her to their hotel room.  He wouldn’t.  Bucky was a hopeless romantic, and one night stands never happened with him.

“You’re killing my vibe.”

Frank looks over at Steve glaring.  “Go find you someone to fuck in the bathroom.”

“Already have.  Found one that wants a threesome, and Bucky don’t…”

“No.”

“Dammit,” Steve throws his head back whining, “Why are you sitting here waiting on that damn nurse.  She didn’t seem interested.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Okay.  She was interested.  Where is she now?” Frank gets the biggest smile on his face as you walk through the door.  Your eyes move around the smoky atmosphere in search of Frank, while Steve groans.  “Have your fun.  Maybe we can talk her into some switching action.”

“No.  Go find fuck number two.  I’m going to dance,” Steve and Frank both stand up, and it isn’t long until some pink manicured hand is rubbing on Steve’s belt, but Frank sees nothing, but you.  Meeting you beside the bar.

“What’re you drinking?” He asks with a smile.

“Already ordered a double shot of Jack.”

“Ooh, she’s ballsy.  Put her on my tab,” the bartender slides your cup in front of you, acknowledging what Frank had said. “Was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

“I was beginning to think the same thing,” you nervously laugh, ready to get another drink when yours is finished, but Frank starts pulling you out to the dance floor.  “What are you doing?”

“You came to dance.  Besides, alcohol impairs your thought process.  I don’t want that.”

“Why’s that,” his hands touch your hips, bringing you closer to him, and you want more.  You hadn’t been with anyone since you started nursing school.

“I just want you to be fully aware of me,” even with a ball cap on, Frank was still attractive.  He didn’t flash a buckle around or a cowboy hat in search of someone who knew who he was or what he did, unlike Steve.  He was proud of the fact that he was a bull rider, and loved to show it off.  Frank looked like an average man.  With long legs, and the cutest ass.  He was a dream.  A sinful little dream.

Frank struggles to find his keycard with the way you were kissing all over his neck.  Pulling out his shirt, and your fingers rub over his lower abs.  “Hold on…stop…dammit, I can’t,” he finally opens the door, undoes his belt, ripping it out of the loops before placing it on the door handle, and pulls you inside.

Walking you to the bed furthest from the door, and you see that pretty white cowboy hat.  Pushing him onto the bed, you grab it up, getting a few tongue clicks from him, and you cock up your eyebrow.  “You gotta earn the hat ma’am.”

“How do I earn it?”

“You gotta….gotta ride a bull and try not to get bucked off,” pulling off the straps to your sundress, you let it sink to the floor, and Frank yips.  “That…that’s a start.”

“You gonna show me how to do an eight second ride?”

“Shit, I hope this lasts longer than eight seconds.”

“Frank, take off your clothes,” his fingers start unbuttoning his shirt, before it’s enough to pull over his head.  And he stands, tripping out of his jeans.  Boxer briefs were your favorite, and those white ones were leaving nothing to the imagination.  “All of it,” unhooking your bra, you toss it into the floor, and walk out of your panties just as Frank discards his briefs.  “Can I wear the hat now, cowboy?”

“Y-yeah.  Yeah.  You really gonna ride this bull?  Yep,” he stops talking when you sling your leg over him.  Grabbing the base of his cock you slowly start to sink over him.  “Oh, you feel better than any saddle.  Yeah,” he sighs when you sink down completely.

His hat perches on your head, while he smiles up at you.  “I could get used to this view,” he gives your ass a smack, “Okay boys.  Go on, ride your bull,” you slowly start grinding over him.  Rolling your hips, whimpering at the way he stretched you out.  He was thick, by far the biggest dick you had ever taken.  You understood now why he strutted around the arena.

He reaches up to pinch your nipples.  Pulling them until you were right at his face, and he gives you a filthy kiss.  Didn’t hesitate to push his tongue past your lips.  “I said, you gotta earn that hat.  Show me you know how to ride a bull,” he bites at your lip.  Letting his teeth softly scrape over your kiss bruised lips, and releases your nipples.  

You sit back up, and put your hands behind you.  Getting off your knees, and resting your feet beside him in a crouch.  He had the perfect view to see where the two of you connected.  Could see your walls slicking his cock up as you start bouncing on him.  Hugging his dick so perfectly.  Your walls were already fluttering over him.  The fact that he had that effect on you made him even harder, and you moan out his name.  

“Come here.  I wanna use those reigns again,” getting back to your knees, he grabs onto your tits, while you ride him like your life depended on it.  Slamming yourself over his giant cock, and making the prettiest sounds.  “Just like that.  You’re earning that fucking hat.  Just like that.”

Steve stumbles to the hotel room, and lifts up Frank’s belt.  Looking back up to the bar confused, before forgetting what was even going on.  Taking his card key out, he opens the door to see your body move over Frank’s. Sick fucker had you wearing his cowboy hat, and both of you were distracted by the pleasure.  

“Looks like you found you a buckle bunny after all,” he hiccups, as you drop your body down on Frank’s chest, and his hands move to cover your ass.  “She’s a real pretty one.  Your belt is on the door handle.”

“To tell you not to come in here.  Dammit, Steve, Get out.”

“Did you have to pay for this rodeo?” He collapses on the bed, completely passed out and snoring.

And you look up at Frank, “You’re sharing a room with him?”

“Him and Bucky.”

“You know I had my own room.  Steve just saw me naked.  Called this a fucking rodeo,” he starts moving your body over him, and you don’t wanna smile.  You don’t wanna care, but it does feel so good.  It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to finish.

“You haven’t got bucked off yet.  About the buckle bunny business…”

“I’m only your bunny, Frank.”

“Good,” he lifts your head up to give you a soft kiss, “I don’t want anyone else to be my Bunny.  You go on and finish us. He won’t remember this.”

“How many points do I get with this ride?” You playfully ask, starting to get back into fucking him.

“Oh, you’ve scored off the charts.  I bet it’ll be even higher when I finish.”

“In that case,” your hands press into his chest while you finish the ride for the both of you.  Forgetting Steve all together, he could lay there passed out and drunk for all you cared.  Frank’s fingers dig into your waist as he makes you pound over him harder before holding you still.  It just wasn’t enough.  He needed to feel just how weak you got when he fucked into you.  He pushes his hips up into you with such force you start to see stars.  Jackhammering up into your drenched cunt over and over again.

Your walls constrict around him, and you slap your hand over your mouth as you come hard over his dick.  Frank pushes you off him, and onto your back, adjusting himself to straddle your upper body, and he fists his cock.  It only takes a few pumps before he releases his load into your mouth.  Stifling his own moans as he lets every drop drip onto your greedy tongue.  

“That was beautiful.  I really wished you’d stay,” he whispers, climbing off you to put his underwear back on.  “Steve and Bucky always share a bed.  You can wear my shirt and panties.  Cuddle up real nice.”

“You won’t hate me in the morning?”

“I’m going to hate it when the morning comes because I’ll have idiots in the bed beside us.  I’d much rather fuck you in the morning.”

“Just for tonight, Frank,” he throws you his shirt and your panties as he walks to retrieve his belt.

“Can I come in yet?” Bucky asks, sitting on the floor.  “I couldn’t find Steve, so I figured he found him another one.”

“He’s passed out in here, Buck,” Frank gives you another look as you crawl under the blanket, before he lets Bucky inside.  “Don’t ask me any questions, and I won’t tell you any lies.”

“Lips are sealed.  Oh…hey, uh…”

“You can call me, Bunny.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedharleys @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10​ @patzammit​ @lavender-annd-lilac​

[magewritesstories]

[ ELI MOSKOWITZ ] UNLIKELY SOULMATES

cw. a soulmates au with hawk bc im into cobra kai rn note. i just had an idea and ran with it lmao wc. 1.4K

You and your friend sat on the bed in your dorm. Eli Moskowitz; that was the name you’d woken up to, tattooed on your wrist. For a second you’d freaked out, had you gotten somebody’s name tattooed on your wrist last night? Then your best friend reminded you that it might just be the name of your soulmate. It was very likely that Eli Moskowitz was her soulmate and it was his 18th birthday yesterday. 

“So, do you know him?” Sasha asked, breaking the silence. The two of you had been sitting on your bed, contemplating what to do next for the past 30 minutes. “No, of course I don’t,” You replied rolling your eyes, “I would’ve called him by now if I did,” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She just shrugged, “It was worth a try,” pulling out her phone, she started rapidly typing. You leaned in closer, “What’re you doing?” you asked, curiously looking at the screen. “He probably has a social media, I’m checking if I can find it,” she replied off-handedly, completely focused on her phone. 

“So, your soulmate's older than you, sexy,” Brent cooed, looking at her suggestively, you just rolled your eyes in reply, “He’s older by a few months, chill.” “Still sexy.”

The bell rang loudly, making all three of you look up, “Time for first period, looks like the search for your soulmate will have to wait,” He said, standing up. You both quickly followed after him, grabbing your respective bags as well.

Y/N Y/L/N, Eli couldn’t get his mind off of you. He had no idea who you were, and somehow you’d managed to occupy his mind for the past 4 hours. He watched the tattoo on his wrist, willing it to change, give him some hint of who you were, anything would be great at this point. 

Eli had spent the entire morning asking around about you, but it was no use, clearly you didn’t go to West Valley High. Miguel watched his friend the entire morning. “Give up, dude, she doesn’t go here, we gotta find out about her another way.” Eli tried to argue that they just needed to try harder, but he was interrupted by Johnny.

“Any problem, boys?” It was clear from his tone that he didn’t really care about what the problem was, he just wanted them to listen and participate in the lesson. “No, sensei,” they both replied in unison, straightening their backs. Johnny nodded, “Alright pair up,” he shouted, “Hawk, miss Robinson, you're both in charge,” Eli cracked his knuckles, this was going to be a fun lesson.

You and Sasha were walking down the street near the strip mall. It wasn’t a place you visited often, firstly because it was pretty far from the school and secondly because it was generally known as a bad neighbourhood. But when Brent offhandedly mentioned a new lounge that had opened up, your curiosity got the best of you and you decided to check it out. 

You dragged an unwilling Sasha behind you, “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” you whined, “Sweaty teenagers, bad music, the smell of blunts and alcohol?” Sasha said, “Sounds so fun,” she added sarcastically. You and Sahsha were always the opposites attract kinda duo, if you wanted to go out to a party at the boys dorms, then she wanted to stay in and finish a book. At the start of 2nd year you’d gotten used to it, and both of you had learned to balance it. You still had your ups and downs though, and this was one of ‘em.

You both sat down at the bar, you quickly ordered two virgin mojitos as Sasha tells you about what happened in the latest chapter of her book, “And then he carries her all the way to the ship, even though he has a limp, and tells her that he would always come for her and–” your best friend is interrupted by a loud crash. 

The sound came from the table next to them, there were two groups standing in front of each other. A boy with a red mohawk had punched a guy in a football jersey, which had caused him to fall down. Another boy shouted at him, asking what his problem was. 

Clearly, mohawk guy had walked up to them and started causing a ruckus. He replied, but it was too loud for her to hear him. A waitress walked up to them, most likely to ask them to quiet down. But it was too late, a fight had already broken out.

Somewhere in the process the waitress had gotten shoved to the ground. You quickly got up to help her. You pulled her up, and she thanked you, as you ask her if she’s okay, you nearly get hit by the boy with the mohawk. “What the hell, do you have nothing better to do?!” You shouted. If there was a kind of person you hated it was the kind that started fights out of nowhere causing innocent people to get hurt.

“No one asked you to stand in the middle of a fight, princess,” He spat, glaring at her. “Who do you think you’re calling a princess,” you ask, matching his glare. He smirked, “I don’t see anyone else here dressed like they’re ready to be crowned queen,” You rolled your eyes, what an asshole, before you could reply Brent pulled you away. Where the hell did he come from? “Come on, just leave it be,” he said, looking between you and the red-head, “Yeah, princess, listen to you little knight in shining armour,” Oh you wanted to punch that smirk off of his face so badly. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Brent exclaimed once you were outside. “Going to the lounge without me is one thing, but starting a problem with Hawk?” He said angrily.  “Who’s Hawk?” You ask confused, what kind of a name was that? “Hawk is the guy you were having that shouting match with, he’s also the ringleader of one of the biggest gangs in the valley.” 

“There are gangs in the valley?” Sasha asked, speaking up, “Ever since those karate dojos opened up they’ve been fighting each other,” He explained, “They’re constantly at each other throats, and you,” He said turning to you, “You just placed yourself in the middle of one of those fights.” Well shit.

You were laying in bed, the clock showed that it was 2 AM, but you hadn’t managed to sleep a wink.

“Hey, Y/N, I think I know who your soulmate is,” Sasha speaks up out of nowhere. You come out from under your blankets, “What, who is it?” You ask, suddenly all wishes of sleep are gone. “He’s European.” Your friend replies, matter-of-factly, “What?” “I mean think about it,” Sasha said, sitting up, “His last name is Moskowitz, that’s obviously a slavic last name,” her voice went up an octave, showing she was very proud of her theory, “So he’s probably European.” 

You flopped back onto your bed, your day just kept getting worse and worse. “Great… Just great.” ''What’s wrong?” Sasha asked, walking over to your side of the room, “Nothing, I’m just having the worst day,” You replied massaging your temples. “How so?” She asks, getting under the covers next to you. 

“Well, firstly, the new choreography teacher hates me, then I make enemies with the guy who’s apparently one of the biggest gang leaders in The Valley, and now I find out my soulmate lives on the other side of the world.” 

Sasha sighed, pulling you into a hug, “Well, maybe tomorrow, will be a better day,” You sighed as well, “Let’s hope so…”

Johnny had been watching Eli all morning, “What’s wrong, Hawk, you got a problem,” He finally asks, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. Immediately he straightens up, “No, sensei.” Miguel laughs, causing the boy to glare at him, “He’s worried about his soulmate, sensei,” Johnny grinned, “That’s right, you got your soulmate tattoo yesterday, how’s the search going?” “Horrible, we’ve asked around everywhere, no one knows a Y/N Y/L/N.”

Aisha laughed, “You mean, Y/N Y/L/N, the pianist?” All three turned towards her, “The what now?” Miguel asks, “Y/N is a pianist, she’s pretty famous regionally,” she shrugs, pulling out her phone to show them your instagram. All three lean in to get a better look at you picture.

“That’s her?!”

[mediocres-writing-blog]

MK Legends: Blood Bound

Chapter 10: Truths and lies

Our group would finally make it to the palace. The guards let them through. As they got closer, Amara would whisper to Nico. Her voice was stern. Her words were harsh, as if they were meant to be a threat.

MUCHACHA: Listen, when we get in there, I'll do the talking and you shut up.

ROBIN: How about you stay on the sidelines, doing your actual job, which is protecting those who can't themselves, in this case, the boy?

MUCHACHA: I am sorry, Robin, I truly am. But he must stand trial for what he's done.

Nico's tone shifted, from being a sarcastic asshole tone, to a genuine, concerned one. His eyebrows lowered, and his frown became more obvious. He looked back at the general, with a look of concern, and maybe even sadness.

ROBIN: What does he have to be put on trial for? He looks barely 18, and he looks like he's seen some shit.

KOUNTERFEIT: I would like a word.

MUCHACHA: Zip it, boy, unless you'd like a knife in your leg. We're talking.

ROBIN: Look, see? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You need anger management lessons.

MUCHACHA: Well, my anger management is shoving swords into bastards--

Before she could finish, Sabbia would make a wall between the two, pushing them away from each other.

SABBIA: Yeah, I am going to be the only voice of reason here and say absolutely not.

ROBIN: Oh, shut up, Jason Statham, we don't need therapy from you. The writer does that for us already.

Sabbia, not knowing what he's talking about, looks a bit confused, and turns to Amara, who is a bit confused as well.

MUCHACHA: Well, if your "author" is doing that, then why are we still arguing like idiots?

The caped crusader extended his hand out to the general with a light smile, and she looked back at him as she did the same. Then, the two shook hands. Nico looked at Sabbia, who put his hand on the two before him to do the legendary "three-way handshake".

ROBIN: Well, I suppose this could work. Now, let's take this kid to the kahn-- and he's gone.

Robin pointed his finger in front of him, to the entrance, to show the kid was not there. As Sabbia and Muchacha looked around, Nico started running out of the palace. After a few seconds, he was out in the market, standing in front of Erron Black.

ERRON: So, you gotta be this blood bender I kept hearin' 'bout. 

ROBIN: ERRON! Whatever you're gonna do now, DON'T!

The gunslinger looked up at the caped crusader. He responded with a simple chuckle.

ERRON: Well, if it ain't the flushed goldfish.

Nico, a bit pissed from the comment, responds.

ROBIN: Firstly: Rude. Secondly: Don't touch this kid. He didn't do anything... on purpose. I hope.

Erron, ignoring his plea, walked up to the boy. He was a bit shorter, so the boy had to look up. The gunslinger reached his hand for the gun that he wore. But before he could pull it out, Nico threw a rock at the gunslinger, so that the blood bender could get away for a bit. Could've used your daggers which are more versatile, but whatever. Erron, angered, took a gun out. The blood mage was cornered. Erron Black took his revolver, and pointed it at the caped crusader.

ERRON: Alright, punk. You wanna be a puddle? Be my guest.

ROBIN: Hey, captain fang-face, double team?

He turns to see Muchacha and Sabbia helping the kid get away.

MUCHACHA: Hell nah, you're on your own now, pal.

SABBIA: Sorry, bud, but you're the one that wanted a fight, so now you've got one. Let me know if you lived though.

ROBIN: You've gotta be fffu--

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, as he turned, he took a bullet to the other half of his mask. While the gunfire scared the outworlders and the bullet should have spilled Robin's brains on the floor, this time slightly denting the mask, proofing that Muchacha's cranium is mightier than the gun.

ROBIN:

ERRON:

ROBIN: 

ERRON: How.

ROBIN: Two words: Lazy. Wri--

Erron would shoot at the head, with Nico turning his head as he was yapping, the bullet once again bouncing off the mask.

ROBIN: Aight, Marty Robbins, that does it!

The crusader jumped forward and tried to punch Erron, who ducked under the blow and kicked the crusader in the stomach. He would grab him by the cape, and throw him into a building and walk away IN the direction in which the three idiots went.

ROBIN: God.. that is such lazy writing...

The crusader slowly got up, and followed Erron as fast as he could with a few shattered ribs. As the gunslinger walked into the alley, the boy was nowhere to be seen, and instead, Sabbia was sitting on a barrel, drinking some beer.

ERRON: Where the hell did that little shit go?

SABBIA: Oh, he ran away with the girl. I just sat here, enjoying my drink.

Erron, not liking this answer, walks up to the serpent with malicious intent, and he walks up to the snake with a gun at his head.

ERRON: I won't ask twice. Where, the fuck, are they?

SABBIA: Oh please, Erron. You and I both know you wont kill me. I've read a handful of books in my time and in those books, I've realized that a new character never dies first.

As he's saying that, he's forming a big pile of sand right behind Erron, without him noticing. As the gunslinger's patience is running thin, he's getting angrier.

ERRON: Listen, you fucking bastard. I've got no patients for you, so tell me.

Sabbia is quick to respond with a quip that feels like it's straight out of a Jason Statham film.

SABBIA: Well, Erron, before you do pull the trigger, do you remember the three things that slip through fingers if you try to hold them?

ERRON: What the fuck are you on about?

SABBIA: I'm talking about water, blood...

Erron finally turned around, to notice a big pile of sand right above his head.

SABBIA: ...And sand.

Sabbia would drop the sand on Erron, causing him to try and dig back. Muchacha and Kounderfeit see this happen from a window and get away. Sabbia drops into the sand, escaping and returning to the group.

MUCHACHA: Nice job, Sabbia.

SABBIA: Thank you.

They all look back at Erron, who was still trying to dig out of the pile of sand.

KOUNTERFEIT: We should run?

MUCHACHA & SABBIA: We should run.

They would all run in the opposite direction, away from the gunslinger. They were all in a room. The three looked at each other, and the boy looked up at them. Muchacha took a knee, and looked the boy straight in the eyes, and sighs and looks away emediately.

MUCHACHA: What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I was just doing my job to protect the khan from a boy who can't even control his powers and now I'm protecting said boy from the only gunslinger in all of Outworld.

Erron then kicks down the door entering the room.

ERRON: And the best one there is.

Sabbia would then turn to Erron, saying two things.

SABBIA: Okay, firstly, doesn't being the only gunslinger make you the best by default? But also- HOW DID YOU GET OUT SO FAST?!

Erron then shoots Sabbia in the leg, knocking him to the ground as he groans in pain.

ERRON: I have my own ways. Now then, general, the blood mage. If you won't hand him over, then you're gonna pay.

Sabbia looked down at the bleeding wound on his leg, and then turned his head to Muchacha, nodding at her.

MUCHACHA: Well, if you want to get to him... 

She says as she draws her sword.

MUCHACHA: ...Then you're gonna have to get past me.

Muchacha then runs towards Erron, and swings her sword, which the gunslinger quickly dodges.

ERRON: Alright, missy. If you're gonna be difficult, then I guess I'll have to shoot ya down too.

She turns to him, and as she swings at random, Erron shoots his gun and on complete accident, she splits the bullet in half.

ERRON: What the hell?

As Amara runs to him, he counters by kicking her in the stomach (god, I swear, boots are her cryptonite or some shit) and knocks her back. 

ERRON: Times up, kiddo.

As the Night Rider turned to the gunslinger, and the Gunslinger removed the mask of the boy, he saw something strange... himself. He stepped back, in complete shock.

ERRON: What the...

Before the gunslinger could finish his sentence, a fist collided with his jaw. The child's face resembled his and one of another character we'll get to later. He looked around, seeing everyone knocked out, not knowing what to do, but one thing.

ERRON: Look kid, I know I might have caused you some more trauma, but you gotta come with me. The Kahn will never know, promise.

The boy, while scared, nodded and took Erron's hand and escaped through another exit, while Robin finally came back and noticed that Amara and Sabbia were on the ground, possibly dead. Outworld guardsmen then walk in, and Nico falls to the ground, as the guardsmen take them to the nearest medic. After what seemed like hours, Robin woke up in a bed, seeing Amara and Sabbia nearby. He got up, and went to the door. 

ROBIN: Oh god... well at least my ribs feel less like rubber.

As he was walking out, he bumped into Kitana Kahn. She looked at the caped crusader, and sighed, walking away. He did a double take, and ran after her.

ROBIN: Uh... hello, Kitana. I just wanted to thank you for sending your guardsmen after me.

KITANA: You know, I was certain you wouldn't mess this up, and you return with  an injured general and a Saurian that was shot in the leg.

ROBIN: Okay, listen, it was going smoothly and then it wasn't.

KITANA: Yeah, no kidding. I don't care what happens. You failed me, Nico. And now, you, the general and the saurian will report when they wake up, and get out of my sight.

She left, leaving Nico there. He looked around, seeing Sabbia and Amara wake up.

SABBIA: What a nice sleep... Wait, why are we in a room together?

MUCHACHA: The boy... Did you see where he went?

Nico sighs, knowing he can't lie.

ROBIN: No, Erron got away and now the Kahn says I gotta report and gtfo.

Muchacha sighed and walked out of the room, with the others following. He looked to the left, and the right, and sighed. they stood infront of the Kitana, Mileena and Rain, all three kneeling.

KITANA: So, what have you to say for yourself, Muchacha?

MUCHACHA: Well, your highness, the Blood bender has escaped. We tried to fight him off, but we were outnumbered.

Robin raised an eyebrow, knowing fully this isn't what happened, but not saying a word.

KITANA: Very well. Nico, Sabbia and Amara, you are excused. Leave us, and don't let me see you again.

ROBIN: Yes, your highness.

The three walk out, and Robin, knowing what's happening, consults Muchacha.

ROBIN: I know you lied, what really happened?

MUCHACHA: I'd rather not say, Nico.

She turned her head, not looking Robin in the eye. Sabbia and Robin looked at each other, and Nico grabbed her, making sure she didn't walk away.

ROBIN: Amara, tell me what happened.

Amara sighed, knowing he won't let her go until she says.

MUCHACHA: Erron happened. He took the kid, I don't know where. But right now, that's not my concern, what is, it’s getting away from you.

As she said that, a machine flew in, and Nico knew this was his ride home.

SABBIA: Well, guessin’ this is goodbye, Robin.

ROBIN: Guess so. And before I go, next time I come back, you can call me Nico. Nico Ghai.

MUCHACHA: You never told me your name.

ROBIN: Sorry, can’t talk now, got a flight to catch. Byyyyyyeeeeee–

He said as he went closer to the hovercraft, with the door closing and taking off. Sabbia would walk away, going away from the general and waving goodbye to the general, who would salute the saurian, showing her respect.

Meanwhile… At the Black Dragon base

Erron and the blood bender would arrive at the Black Dragon base, where Kano and Skarlet would stand at the door.

KANO: Erron.

ERRON: Kano.

KANO: What brings you here?

ERRON: Child.

He says, as the Night Rider walks out in front of the Aussie and Blood mage.

KANO: And why have you brought him here?

ERRON: I’m not built to be a father. You two on the other hand have experience with parenting. Why he looks like me and Red, I have no clue, don’t ask me.

Kano and Skarlet look at eachother, shrugging, and accepting the boy as if he were their own.

KANO: Alright, Erron. Thanks. Now leave. I don’t appreciate you here.

ERRON: Well I don't like your voice. Anyways, see ya never, ‘wanka’.

He said as he mounted his steed and went back the way he came from. As he rode off into the sunset, the three would walk in and welcome him to the klan. As they’re walking, Skarlet notices something on the mask that hangs off the boy's belt. A label that she knows she saw before, but she brushes it off, as probably a coincidence.and they keep on walking all the way to Billie’s room to introduce her to her so-so brother.

SIRIS: So, what you’re sayin’ is, he’s gonna be with us?

KANO: Yes. And I hope you two get along nicely.

SIRIS: Well, I’m cool with that.

SKARLET: I’ve thought of the name Tomek for him, but you always call him Tom for short.

And so, with that, they showed Tom around and introduced him to the other members, and took him to his room just in time for the sun to fully set.

[paigemathews]

if you could give prue kids (in an au where she lives), who would it be with (can be anyone dead or alive) and could you tell us a little bit about them?

Okay, so this might be a bit of a boring answer, but canonically, I think that Prue really only ever would've ended up at a place where she was comfortable having kids with Andy, if he had survived. Obviously, if she hadn't died, I think that they'd have given her another love interest, but looking at her canon love interests for more than an episode: Andy (dead), Bane (jail), Jack (...c'mon), and Justin (literally got dumped for no personality.) And while I'd love to spin up a Prue/Bane kid (not a Jack kid bc quite frankly, @phoebehalliwell has got that on lock already), I think it's gotta be Prue and Andy, assuming that they both survived.

The rest of this kind of have to go under the cut because I finished it, checked how many words it was, and went 'oooh, fuck.' In case you're wondering, the answer is over two thousand, so. I'm gonna get blocked if I just drop that on people's dashes lmao.

So, in this 'verse, I think that Prue would've actually been the first to have a child, for several reasons. Firstly, we actually do see her express a desire to have kids at a few points in the show and she doesn't seem to have as many as the same hang-ups of her sisters. Her issue seems to just be the good dad part. Secondly, she'd be the one with the longest and most stable relationship, since she and Andy have known each other for so long and were pretty much on the verge of committing to each other anyways when Andy, y'know. Got dead.

That said, I don't particularly think that it would have been an intentional pregnancy. This is kind of dependent on where we're at in the show, but I think that it'd probably end up at a point where the danger is ramping up and the Source is becoming more of a threat. I don't think that Prue would be initially willing to a) step back from the front lines of the fight b) bring a child into the consistent danger of the household and c) risk orphaning her child like she was. I can see it as a plotline where demons are constantly attacking and frazzling the sisters and we see her miss her meticulous birth control pill or something and then a few episodes later assume that it's because of stress, only to find out that, surprise! You're pregnant, and probably a bunch of dangerous stuff is happening.

But anyways, I think that Prue and Andy would go with the P tradition, because Andy seems like the type of family guy who'd be all for it and I think that Prue, having seen this kind of different continual line of her family, would be into it. (Also, I don't really see any reason why she'd be against continuing it either, tbh.)

So our firstborn daughter is Perri Christina Halliwell, and I'm now realizing the obvious connotation of that lmao. I'm just trying to look at P names that have not been taken by any of the sisters themselves or my main next gen, and Christina is actually a reference to two different female writers that my brain initially thought was the same person: Christine de Pizan, a medieval feminist writer (responsible for The Book of the City of Ladies), and Christina Rossetti, a Victorian writer whose works were often viewed through a feminist lens (at least in my class). I like the name flip thing though, so now I'm keeping it. As for the first name, I think that Perri has this almost rebellious feel to it, which fits for her.

But anyways, Perri, our firstborn witch! I think that because of the circumstances around Perri's birth, especially with Prue having lost her own mother at such a young age, she's incredibly protective over her. (God forbid if Piper or Phoebe died in this 'verse, because it'd multiple by ten.) Perri is also the first member of the next generation, so she's kind of the test child on "Training Your Magical Child 101." And the thing is, I'd genuinely argue that the sisters not being raised with their powers both endangered them as they tried to figure everything out and kept them from reaching their full potential, and I think that Prue's biggest goal is keeping Perri safe, so she goes. kinda hard on the training witch thing. And Andy kind of sides with Prue on this because he doesn't have the magic to help or protect Perri, so. It's not just Prue, but Piper and Phoebe (and Paige? idk if Paige is in this AU or not yet tbh) are also training her, so it's a little less harsh than it could be.

Perri grows up to be a powerful witch with a pretty thorough background on all of the different aspects of magic (spells, potions, powers, demons, etc.) Like her mother, she's a telekinetic witch. I think that under her mother's tutelage, her powers also actually advance relatively quickly so that she develops advanced telekinesis. Lastly, she also had this combination of levitation/limited flight in that she can lift herself and other things off the floor but can't go Superman-ing around. (Is this half because I want to imagine a scene of Perri mid-air wrecking someone's shit? Yes. I fully admit to my utilization of the Rule of Cool here.)

Beyond powers, however, she's a bit more like Phoebe or Paige than Prue as a teenager. She rebels against her parents a lot, but a lot less of the punk teenage rebel thing and more like the artsy creative checking out the art exhibit at the local rec center or whatever. She loves her parents but chafes at the protectiveness. She's very independent, vivacious, bold, etc. She's actually a lot like Prue in that tbh, very popular in high school but with a less "Student Council president, head cheerleader, straight A-student" type of vibe. She's a lot fun. I've kind of bounced between a few different job ideas for her, but I think that she'd love to work in fashion, probably as a designer. Her vibe is very much just nicely saturated colors and colorful modern art.

After Perri's birth, shit probably hits the fan at some point and we get a dark point where all seems lost, maybe a death from someone close (not Prue or Andy obviously and I hesitate to kill anyone else, so some character that they got close to in this rewrite that wasn't in canon. What do you want from me, this is about the kids not the show.) Or maybe just struggles with the Elders and trying to buck that control, especially since we'd have the Piper/Leo and Phoebe/Cole relationships at some point here. But they persevere, and there's probably been another little Halliwell kid running around this point with Perri, but this ain't about them.

Next up, we have Presley Artemisia Halliwell! Now, if you haven't seen that Tumblr post about Artemisia Gentileschi, it's metal af and I have no clue where it is, but short story: girl got a shit deal for quite awhile, including being raped then tortured to give evidence during her rapist's trial, but she was also an amazing painter that focused on women from myths, allegories, and the Bible. Okay, actually, I really gotta find that Tumblr post to explain it, gimme a second. Here it is, high key recommend reading it but trigger warnings but discussion of the previously mentioned rape and torture. Okay, but the point for the middle name: a) I think that she's a fucking cool ass painter and b) seeing as I've mentioned that something awful has happened, the element of surviving that pain and refusing to bow down, especially to a male-dominated society, for someone like Prue. And Presley is because it has this almost academic vibe about it to me, a little cold in a way. (Idk how to explain this, it's one a.m. and I've been at this for two hours, y'all.)

Now onto our second Prue/Andy daughter: Presley! At this point, they've been raising a daughter in the house, maybe even another of the sisters' kids, so there isn't as much of a strictness on her at all points. Don't get me wrong, there's still a level of protectiveness, but Peri's continuing survival has proven to Prue and Andy that magic isn't an instant death sentence. But I'd say that it's Presley's powers that shape her so fundamentally here.

Presley ends up with molecular immobilization initially, but her powers don't advance to molecular combustion. Instead, her next power is an extension of slowing down molecules to freezing them entirely (molecular inhibition, the freezing power that warlock!Piper temporarily had when the sisters were turned evil in Prue's Dark Wedding to Zile). So she ends up being able to freeze things metaphorically and literally. Over time, the molecular inhibition grows to be a bit more versatile, specifically in regards to hand gestures. I'm trying to decide if there's another logical advancement here, but I think that makes her powerful enough for now at least.

With the ability to temporarily freeze everything around her, Presley utilized it to give her time to think. She's very analytic, observant, and intelligent. Unlike her sisters, she's more quiet and introverted but has no issue interacting with people. She's just more content to observe the people around her than be as social as her sisters but is perfectly fine with other people approaching her. Like her mother, she can be a bit prideful and bossy, and Presley can sometimes assume that she knows best because of her observations and intelligent. She actually works adjacent to her dad as a forensic specialist because I knew I wanted her adjacent but not actually a cop. I'm not sure what her specialty is yet though! Her vibe is a lighter neutral Sherlock Holmes and a park on a nice day. (I know that doesn't make it sense, I am simply trying to translate the vibe in my head.)

I think that the last daughter is probably after the craziness has finally died down for the sisters so maybe after any Ultimate Battles or something. They're finally able to just live their lives how they please, with not so many demon attacks, which is when Prue has her last daughter.

Our youngest witch is Pamela Dorothea Halliwell! Dorothea is a shout-out to Prue's love of photography, specifically to Dorothea Lange. Considered one of the most influential photojournalists of the 20th century, Dorothea Lange is known for her work during the Great Depression. Pamela is actually also a shout-out to Pamela Barnes, a psychic in Supernatural! It can also be considered a shout-out to Pamela Bousquet, a Warren ancestor in one of the spinoff novels, who had telepathy.

Pamela rounds out our trio as the resident psychic. While her primary power is premonitions, she's fascinated by divination as a whole, including her powers expanding to show her the past and future, reading palms and tarot cards, and whatever else you'd count that as. Beyond just seeing the future, she also has astral projection, telepathy, empathy, and dream leaping. Her family is pretty sure that at least some of this is magic that she learned instead of naturally possessed, but neither she nor they could tell you which is her own natural power and which she gained through studying the craft. Technically, Pamela could be a threat if she was interested in fighting demons, but she's much more interested in the study of magic and her specific branch of it to wield her powers offensively. She's a threat despite not because of the way she studies.

Continuing with the psychic vibes, Pamela is best described as somewhat dreamy. She's an absolute sweetheart but can get a bit lost in her own head sometimes, which can be dangerous with her powers. Despite what you may initially think, she is voracious when it comes to learning and wants to know everything about everything. She pursues her passion with relentless abandon, which can sometimes bite her on the ass. Honestly, a lot of her dreaminess and kookiness is because of her powers, which are going to cause her some problems soon if she doesn't figure out how to not get lost in them. So of course she works in a witch shop reading palms and tarot cards, basically a more legit "The Amazing Phoebe!"

In my head, I think that Perri is about 26, Presley is about 24, and Pamela is about 21 maybe. The girls are all still in California but maybe spread out a little. Perri is probably in some more fashion-y city that I'd have to ask my sister to pick (but not tonight bc she'd kill me for waking her up at 2 a.m.) while Presley may still be in San Francisco but Pamela definitely is.

Okay, so this definitely ended up taking and being a lot longer than I thought it would be, but this was so much fun! I'm always a sucker for the next gen, and I love thinking about how it may have turned out differently with different characters, relationships, or plots. It's especially fun because there's so many possibilities in the Charmed 'verse for the kids and I'd love to spin out some of the ones that unfortunately just didn't fit for my "canon" kids. (I used to do Charmed roleplay on Tumblr and actually have a new blog that I'm probably never going to actually use, and it has the entire set up of an alternate next generation stemming from Pandora, Paige's daughter, in the Warren Witches spinoff novel. Pretty much all of Phoebe's kids were designed to utilize some of the interesting power ideas I couldn't make my canon girls get.)

But if you have any other suggestions like this, definitely drop it in my askbox! This was so much fun! (Granted, it's two a.m. and I have to be at work at 8:30 tomorrow but whatever.)

[golbrocklovely]

i'm blocking out the accounts bc i'm not about to draw more eyes to them. funny enough, i went snooping on my own and found both accounts before this ask.

also this is just a warning, i'm running on about two percent battery brain power, so if this doesn't make sense and/or sounds like i'm an asshole, that's why. i'm not trying to be rude to you anon, so please don't think that. i'm just ridiculously tired of this situation and the ppl involved in it.

imma be so forreal, i kinda have to laugh at all of this. first off, both of these accounts are run by teenagers… and it's very obvious. it reads like a jealous little girl's diary.

also i can debunk all of their shit in a heartbeat. half of it is just them saying "see ! malia is a slut who had work done" and all i gotta say to that is… do you say that about amber? shea? stas? just curious. bc they all got work done, and they all have casual sex (most likely) or at the very least have hooked up with colby. so like???? keep the misogyny even if you're gonna go full pick me.

malia had an onlyfans, yes. she did technically lie in her response to a hater who said she had one. however, no one is owed an explanation to if and why she had one. and secondly, this fandom is full of young fans. if she admitted she had one, yall would just call her a creep that's promoting sex to minors or whatever. and clearly if she actually posted anything of her nude, it would be online. bc.. like these losers pointed out, the videos she did of her modelling bikinis for some brand got put on porn sites by creepy dudes. none of them are of her nude tho. it's just her in a bikini which surprise surprise isn't porn.

she got work done but liked a comment that called her a natural beauty….. do these fans really think they ate pointing this out?? she is naturally pretty, she just got some work done. again, would you harp on shea liking a comment that says that? or amber? or stas?? or how about a woman that's wearing makeup or a push up bra??

these fans really think they have her in this gotcha moment when reality is…. all they're doing it pointing out how pathetic they look. yeah babes, you're totally right. malia is a slutty porn star who got work done… and colby STILL decided to date her. you know why? bc he doesn't care. and you do… and yet here you are… still not getting the attention from colby you think you deserve. even if you were the last person on earth colby wouldn't choose you. and for all the hate you have for malia, you basically run a fan account for her since you know so much about her. but yeah… keep calling her a whore or whatever. you're doing such a good job at it lmao

i'll go thru the other ones these bozos pointed out fast:

colby likes his alone time, she made a tiktok saying she likes when guys are obsessive…. those don't even relate, but on top of that she made that vid before she was even DATING HIM

we have no proof malia made him unfollow anyone, they are just jumping to that conclusion

the cheating thing we now know is false

she didn't steal that hair color from amber………. are yall on crack? amber hasn't ever dyed her hair that color?? she uses a wig??? and just bc she wants to dye her hair a similar color doesn't mean malia copied. how would she have even known that?? jesus christ keep the schools open these kids are DUMB

the girls went to coachella a couple years ago or whatever but claimed the one they went to with snc was their first. oH mY gOd ThEy LiEd Or PoSsIbLy FoRgOt??? call the firing squad and line them up in the town square. burn the witches at the stake!!!!

malia called herself a slut and that's proof… she's a slut. sure. yeah. whatever you say, children. yall barely have had sex ed but please inform me how she's a slut. i'd love to hear it.

the girls in general are copying kat/amber. i mean… they literally aren't. they just cut and dyed their hair, two things NEITHER KAT OR AMBER HAVE DONE in a long time/ever. i would say you're grasping at straws but that would require there to be straws.

if you think malia or katelyn are bad ppl for having subscriptions about their lives where they might post their boyfriends, boy do i have news for you about shea and stas.

anything else they said is horseshit and tbh i'm over it. call me when the girls have been found guilty of something other than being kinda annoying and attention seeking on *gasp* the internet, of all places.

[cardboardheartss]

sorry how is ayo edebiri white passing in any way? first of all she is literally black like she's Nigerian and Bajan, she does not look white AT ALL. secondly, just because a black girl is not how you perceive them to be doesn't mean that they're not 'black enough'. this is setting us back. there needs to be more representation of all black girls of all personalities.

Oh my… calm down!

When did I say shes whitepassing? You’re now putting words in my mouth, don’t you ever do that here! NOT on my watch.

As I post such about Ayo, why would i judge her for her personality when I do the EXACT same thing as her?? I have non-black friends andd my niches/interests are labeled as white??

And guess what… it’s actually crazy how I even get told I’m not black enough on a daily. So like… I don’t know why you’d view my posts for Ayo in a negative light???? Plus, I’m not the only person on this blog who notices how the way you act can set you in specific groups of people…

This is my same experience IRL, present day, away from tumblr… I know being a token is no good… but we all know how racist people are.

From my lived experiences; It’s hard for non blacks I know to jab racism at me, because i’ve set boundaries and guess what… I’m whitewashed too! Trust me, there’s a clear difference between how they treat me vs other black ppl or dark skinned non-black ppl, and how is that measured??? It’s measured through our proximity to whiteness.

This is not a flex btw, but an observation my mom and I made.

+ I’m not setting any black woman back, I am pointing out the obvious, it’s literally right in front of you!! Since you’re saying there needs to be rep of black girls of all personalities, I know there isn’t enough but come on now… the difference of support for a specific type of black woman is actually so obvious!

Look at : Ayo, Quen, Zendaya & Antonia (Ginny & Georgia) vs Marsai, Isa Rae, Storm Reid & Leah Sava.

All these women have released projects right??? Please tell me, which group of black celebrities would get more support from the general audiences?? And by general audience, I mean ALL races, not just black folks only but everyone.

Apart from all I’ve said… yes. It’s true that there needs be rep of all sorts of black girls but anon… you need to understand that society… society is very racist and picky. So if you want to make it somewhere, you gotta have some personality switch and I’m not saying it’s gonna work because white ppl could really care less about us.🤣😅

Anyways!!

Please, if there’s any pro blacks here, please don’t change or feel judged when I talk about such topics. Y’all are okay, stay in your lane and enjoy being black comfortably!🤗

[22degreehalo]

I also find that like. A lot of people (especially on reddit IME) really want to believe that they can like Shock other people into behaving Right, because The Reason They Act This Way Is They've Never Had To Face Consequences.

And. First of all in my experience, being rude to someone who's acting like a dick invariably escalates the situation and mainly just validates that person's view of themself as the victim.

But also. At some point you really just gotta let go of the idea that you can like... Fix someone. In one interaction.

You're not their psychologist!! You don't know their life story!! This isn't your job!! It's not just mean-spirited but honestly kinda vainglorious and self-centered to act like this is a role you could even take?

But do you know what you can do? Show someone how they should be acting.

In my experience - and like OP I'm currently working at a library, and have worked in much more typically hostile front-facing jobs, too - acting polite, reasonable, and sincerely conciliatory is so much more successful at cutting short hostile behaviour.

Because, first off you're not giving them anything to bounce off of. They can't feed off your anger or coldness. They say they're hard done by and you're like 'yeah that sucks :(' What do you even do then? You're not the screeching harpy they imagined. This isn't going to script. You cut down their energy and make them switch tracks.

Secondly, it makes the situation pretty dang obvious to outsiders. You argue back? Who even knows who started it? But if they're just yelling and you're acting reasonable... some of them figure out pretty quick that they're not coming off best in this situation. You're not making them realise the error in their ways, they just realise that outside people looking in are going to be thinking badly of them, and that's enough to make some of them switch up.

Thirdly, you're giving them an easy way out. If you argue back, they get defensive. They can no longer back down without some big 'I was wrong' deal. But just act like things are mostly normal? If they get embarrassed, they can just go along with it. Honestly kind of incredible how many people will be super inappropriate, but then after a brief break or something, will just suddenly be acting like none of that happened. Which, great! They're not acting badly anymore!!

Because. Yeah. Working in public service didn't make me hate humanity, and I'm fully aware that's my toxic unloveable martyr trait. Most of the people I come across who act out are also the people most at risk. People who have never known the world to be kind to them. People who don't understand what's going on around them, and are confused all the time, and my god what a scary and awful way that would be to live!!!

Tbh, the little things really do make a difference. Smiling at people in passing. Complimenting something they're wearing. Laughing amiably at their generic, dumb jokes. You shouldn't have to always do things like that and I would never expect it. But when you can, it truly can mean so much to someone who's used to only ever being treated coldly.

And, yeah: they're treated coldly because they're rude to everyone. Their situation is their own fault. So what? Are we all free of self-destructive habits? ADHD meds alone have taught me so fucking much that free will is basically a lie lmao. If we can extend a hand out to someone who is feeling shitty, I don't care who caused it. It's just good that the world is a little happier.

and last of all, OP doesn't mean that you should like... blindly trust everything other people say or do. My guiding principle is to basically talk to people like they mean their best intentions, but not to take any risks. Which sometimes means stuff like, idk, telling people 'hey sorry but this sounds kinda sketchy!! I know you probably don't mean anything haha but yeah just based on what I know here, I can't really do it, sorry!' Because if they're a reasonable person they'll be like 'hm, yeah, if I was in that position I'd think that too huh' and if they were trying to scam me or whatever. Well it didn't work. It's win/win. There's usually no reason why you can't extend a bit of kindness and understanding even if you can't do what they want. Especially then.

if i can impart any one piece of wisdom to y’all, it’s to, whenever possible, assume good intentions

assume people are trying their best, want to be good and treat others well, and that when their behavior doesn’t align with those goals, it’s because of outside factors that are pushing them to their limit

it’s hard to do, it doesn’t always come naturally, but it’s worth it

[peppersonironi]

DUKE THOMAS ISN’T THE SANE ONE! A guide by Pepper

So, I have seen so many people writing Duke incorrectly, and I wanted to do something about it. In fanon, he is described as the sane bat, who would rather stay home and safe, and absolutely never join in shenanigans. Now, I know there are a lot of things wrong with canon, but Duke is one of the better parts! He is an interesting character who is actually just as chaotic as the rest of the gotham vigilantes. And so it it is quite unfair to his character to say he is the 'Arnold from the Magic Schoolbus' of the group. He's really not.

So I decided to make a list of ten instances in the comics where he disobeys Bruce, acts reckless, or is just a bat! (also for a Batfam Group Chat I’m a part of, someone asked for these) I hope this helps people understand his character better, and maybe even inspire them to write more about him? Seriously, Tag me if you do. I'm starved for good Duke content!

Feel free to add more in the comments, these are just what I could think of off the top of my head! (Hence the kinda weird order, sry)

1. He's a vigilante

Okay, so this is a bit obvious, but I still think it needs saying. You think that a guy who dresses in bright yellow and patrols the most crime-ridden city in the world during the day is 100% sane?

2. We Are Robin

Also obvious, but still. This guy joins a group of untrained teenage robins who just want to make a difference. And they do! It's still pretty reckless, though. 

3. He tried to take on the Riddler

In case you didn't know, in the beginning of New 52 (Zero year, specifically) the Riddler essentially held Gotham Hostage. He had some spiel about someone giving him a riddle he couldn't solve, and letting the city go. You know who decided he would be that person? Duke Thomas! He trained in brain-teasers, and puzzles, tirelessly worked. He became quite the adept riddler (not the villain). The kick? He was a child! (Look at the above panels, isn't he cute?) Duke was young, yet determined. And if that's not a bat quality, I don't know what is.

4. He escaped the cops by jumping off a bridge.

Oh no! Duke is in a police car! Oh no! He's on a bridge! What's he going to do?! Why, jump out and off the bridge while proclaiming "I am Robin" of course! Seriously, look at that panel and try to argue that he is the responsible goody-two-shoes of the family.

5. He talked down an enraged Damian

Basically, Damian was manipulated into joining the court of owls. Duke, who refused to believe that Robin genuinely joined them, fought him and talked him down. Now, this is Damian we're talking about. Sure, the kid is absolutely adorable and can be incredibly caring (Fight me on this, I dare you. Also, frick you DC), but when he's on a rampage, there is little that can stop him. So of course Duke decides to take care of it!

6. He actively tries to have a relationship with Damian.

Okay, so this one is a little weak, but I wanted an excuse to share those panels. Aren't those two great?! But seriously, Duke ignores that this tiny child could kill him in more ways than he could count, and even invites him to a movie! He also isn't afraid to tease the kid, unlike other members of the family. Knowing Damian can honestly be hard sometimes.

7. Comes back to the city when Bruce told him to get out.

During the I Am Bane arc of Tom King's Batman (I'm shuddering. So sorry for invoking his name!) Bruce tells the batboys to get out of Gotham and STAY out. the others are like 'we're not gonna listen, right?' and Duke is all 'you can't ignore BATMAN!' and walks off saying he's gonna listen to Bruce. This seems like pretty damning evidence, right? He's actually sane? The others got attacked by Bane and hung, but Duke didn't. Well, then you look at the next panel! (it takes place later in the volume) There he is, disobeying Bruce, and hanging out in Gotham. Not just that, he's out in costume! No, Duke couldn't just hunker down in an apartment, he had to go out and take down crooks, and warn Jim Gordon. I think that's pretty self-explanatory

8. Goes out while Injured

Those two panels are back-to-back in The Cursed Wheel (originally printed in All-Star Batman, later put into Batman and the Signal). As you can see, Bruce tells Duke to get rest. Duke was just attacked by Zsasz, and suffered multiple injuries. He wakes up, and the thing that would make the most sense would be for him to go to sleep, right? Well, he instead gets suited up and goes out to work on a case. Pretty much every bat has done this at some point. Not quite the smartest move, right? A touch reckless, wouldn’t you say?

9. That whole thing with Green Lantern

(sry for the weird sizing, I don’t have the comic to take screenshots) 

So there are two parts to this. First of, you have Green Lantern flying into the batcave, looking around, and there’s no Batman present. So what does Duke Do? Well, he certainly doesn’t stay back and contact Bruce! Nope, instead he attacks a member of the Justice League, a member of the Green Lantern Corp. Later on, you know what he says? He thought he would be fine because his suit is bright yellow. That’s it. A bit crazy, right?

Secondly, he gets roped into exploring the cave with Hal (I thinks it’s Hal, been a bit since I read this though). The Lantern has some thing going on about stuff in the cave, but that’s not important. What’s important is that Duke went along with it. He was curious enough to ignore what Bruce would say (Call him, yet anything remotely green out of the cave), and joins in! He does’t say “this is a bad idea” or “we shouldn’t be doing this” nope!

9. When he ran off with Cass to test his powers

Oh no, Duke got shadow powers! What’s he gonna go? Why, go off and have fun experiment of course! Duke and Cass head out to test and work on Duke’s newly presented abilities, and specifically don’t tell Bruce! This is information he would like to know, of course. It’s important to know if your newest protege gets more powers. But no, they go out of their way to sneakily test the extent of his powers. They get caught, of course, and then get chewed out (They get caught in costume, but the next panel they’re in civvies. I find that outrageously funny!). And here’s the kicker: they don’t really apologize! Sure, Duke gives a half-heart apology, but he doesn’t really mean it. Not even under the full extent of the Batglare™.

10. Rescuing Bruce with practically no training

I’ll skip all the plotty stuff, so just know that Bruce was out alone and in some deep doo-doo. Duke was back at the cave, working stuff out with Alfred. He realizes that what Bruce is doing is a trap. Now, just so you know, this is back when Duke was JUST taken in by Bruce. He doesn’t even have a codename yet! Barely any training. So you know what he does? He heads out anyway, and rescues Bruce. Now, check out that music he’s playing. Later on, it’s revealed to be Duke’s fave band. You know the name of that band? “Batman’s @^$&@” I’m not even joking. (I’m not sure what bleeped out, though later on it’s referred to as “Batman’s #$%” So I assume it’s ass?). So on top of being reckless, he plays a heavy metal band with a name that’s … special to say the least. He has guts, you gotta admit (Oh, and he seemed so gleeful when he told Bruce the name of the band!).

And there you have it! This list is far from complete, but I think it’s a good start. Feel free to reblog with your own, or any questions/comments! I absolutely love to talk about Duke, so don’’t be afraid to message me! Also, correct me if I wrote anything incorrect here. It’s been a while since I’ve read some of these, so I may have gotten some stuff wrong.

[easily-infatuated23]

Over Protective

Request: Could do image were she dating Dustin in secret and her sibling is Steve Harrington. She sneaks out to see Dustin and then she come back to see Steve sitting on her bed then Steve spots a few hickeys on her neck and he asks her about and she denies it. Then Steve calls robin because he freaking out. He invite her over and Dustin for like a dinner then he see them on Dustin’s neck. Then start being like an over protective brother and talking to them about it. ~anonymous 

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon! it’s my first request so i hope you enjoy! i also aged up Dustin to be 16 bc i felt weird writing this with him being like 13. enjoy!

pairing: Dustin Henderson x Harrington!Reader x Steve Harrington

word count: 1.9k

summary: Steve is overly protective of his little sister and when he sees a hickey on her, he’s furious

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N hated sneaking around. When she and Dustin started dating, Dustin had suggested they keep it a secret. It’s not that he was embarrassed or wanted to hide it but they didn’t want their friends to tease them (especially Max and Lucas), but also because of Y/N’s brother. Being Steve Harrington’s younger sister meant that he was super over protective, especially when it came to dating. Steve knew what guys could be like so he made sure that he kept boys away from her. “I’m sixteen now Stevie” she began. “I am old enough to start dating. Besides, you didn’t act like this when Mike and Eleven got together” she finished, crossing her arms angrily. “Thats different!” Steve replied. “You are my baby sister and I don’t want anybody to…corrupt you!” Y/N laughed. “Corrupt me?! You are worse than dad!” “No boys until you’re thirty, and thats final!” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door after her. No matter how annoyed she was, even an argument with her brother was not going to ruin this day for her. It was her and Dustin’s two month anniversary. Although it wasn’t a super long time to be with someone, it was still a big deal for her because it was her first relationship.

“Hey I procrastinated doing my English essay for Mr. Hartman so I’m gonna be in my room trying to do it so don’t bother me” Y/N called down the stairs to her brother. “Yup got it” Steve replied, not looking up from the TV. Brilliant. With Steve distracted and her alibi set, she could sneak out to go meet Dustin. She ran back up to her room and changed into her favorite pair of jeans, t-shirt and a red sweater, and sneakers. She carefully opened her window and climbed out, standing on the sloped roof beneath her. She propped the window open with her Science textbook and climbed down. She then hopped on her bike and rode to Dustin’s house. When she was half way there she realized she had forgotten to lock her door. “No matter,” she thought. “Steve is so engrossed in his TV show he won’t check on me for at least four hours”.

Once she arrived, she hopped of her bike and climbed up to Dustin’s window. She knocked on it lightly. Moments later, the curly haired boy appeared at the window, smiling. He opened the window for her and helped her climb in. Dustin turned on the radio and the two began laughing and talking, simply enjoying each other’s company. After a while, the two began to get a bit hot and heavy and started making out. They hadn’t gone much further than this and Dustin respected her decision to wait. Besides, he was enjoying being with a girl as beautiful, smart, and funny as Y/N Harrington. “You are incredible, you know that?” he said to her as they pulled away. She smiled and shook her head. “How did I get so lucky?” The two smiled at each other for another few moments before Dustin’s face dropped. “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m sorry” he said, panic filling his voice. “What? What is is?” Y/N said, sitting up. “I left a pretty obvious mark on your neck. I swear I didn’t mean to” he said. She stood up and went over to a mirror on the other side of his room. Sure enough, a purple mark was appearing on her neck. She pulled her shirt down and counted two more, each more purple than the last. “Shit” she said. “I can hide the ones on my chest but this guy,” she said pointing to the love bite her neck, “no way”.

She turned to face the boy and started to laugh a bit. “Why are you laughing?! If Steve sees it he’ll kill you! Oh my god what if he finds out it was me?” he said, even more panicked than before. “He probably will babe, but, you aren’t exactly mark free either”. He went pale and joined her at the mirror, examining his neck. “I’ll just wear a turtle neck tomorrow or cover it with makeup. It’ll be fine” She looked at her watch. 8 o’clock. Damn. “Hey I gotta get home. I only give Steve like a four hour window of focus on that TV before he comes to check on me. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow” Dustin said, giving her a hug and kissing her sweetly. Little did Y/N know, Steves focus had worn off much sooner than she had anticipated.

At 7:30, Steve got bored of whatever dumb program had started, and decided to go check on his sister. She usually talked to herself when she did homework and it had been unusually quiet in her room. He walked up the stairs and knocked on her door. There was no reply. He knocked again. “Hey Y/N, you alright in there?”. He was puzzled. He opened her door and was shocked to find her room empty. “Are you trying to play a prank on me? Are you gonna jump out of the closet or something?” Still no response. Then he spotted it. The textbook in the window. A classic Harrington move. Steve couldn’t believe it. His little sister had really snuck out and he hadn’t noticed! He decided he would sit on her bed and wait for her to sneak back in. He waited about thirty minutes before he heard the breathless girl climbing up the side of the house.

When she reached the window and opened it, her heart dropped into her stomach. “What do you think you are doing?” Steve said, pulling his little sister back into her room. “What are you doing in my room?” she retorted. “My question first” he said. Thinking on her toes, Y/N came up with a lie to explain her disappearance. “I wanted to hang out with Max and Elle without you breathing down my neck okay!” she said. She suddenly remembered that her hickey was visible above her sweater and covered her neck with her hand as casually as possible. “Hey, hey what are you hiding?” He moved her hand and felt his face go red. “What is that?!” he boomed. She pushed him away, trying to come up with another lie. “Get off! It’s just a curling iron burn! The girls were curling their hair and when I went to try I burned myself!” That made sense right? Steve squinted at her suspiciously. He knew a hickey when he saw one. “I am gonna find out who did this and I’m gonna kill them” Steve said. “I told you it’s a burn! Now get out of my room!” She yelled, pushing her older brother out of the door. “Just tell me his name!” Steve shouted. She slammed the door in his face. Steve was fuming. They had the boyfriends argument before but this was a new level. Steve did the only thing he could think of. He called his best friend Robin.

“Hey Popeye” Robin said. “Whats going-” “No time Robin, we have an issue” Steve interrupted. “What is it Harrington?” she said. “I caught Y/N sneaking back into her room through a window and she had a hickey! What am I going to do?! I need your help to figure out who the hell did this to my baby sister!” There was a moment of silence and then laughter from Robin. “First of all, relax. It’s just a hickey. You were probably like ten when you had your first one so get some perspective” “I was twelve” he said. “Don’t interrupt me” she continued. “Secondly, why do you care? She’s sixteen now. You have to loosen up.” Steve sighed. “I guess you’re right”. “Also I know who she’s dating”. “What?!” Steve shouted. “Tell me now!” “Fine fine don’t get your panties in a twist” Robin said. “But you have to promise not to do anything drastic.” “Fine fine I promise just tell me”. He said. “Henderson” she said. Steve was silent. Henderson?! Of all people she chose Henderson! I guess it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, after all, he liked Dustin. “What are you gonna do Steve? I can hear your brain exploding” she said. She was met with more silence. “Just invite him over and talk to him or something. Just don’t make it weird.” “Right yeah thanks Robin. I’ll see you tomorrow” he said, hanging up the phone. Thats what he would do. He would invite Dustin over tomorrow and interrogate him.

The next day he called the Henderson house. “Hey Dustin it’s Steve” “Oh uh hey Steve, what’s up?” Dustin’s voice was squeaky. Got him. “I need your help with something and I need you to come over.” “Oh yeah uh sure I’ll see you in a few hours and-” “No,” Steve interrupted. “I need your help now, I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” “Okay”. Dustin’s voice was quiet and his nervousness could be felt through the phone. When Dustin finally got to the house, Steve met him at the door. “Henderson, I’m so glad you could come over” Steve said coldly. Dustin didn’t speak as he entered the house. Steve glared at him. “So what did you need my help with?” Dustin asked cautiously. “I need help understanding what the hell you are doing with my sister.” Steve said. His arms were crossed and he stood blocking the door, blocking any hope of escape for Dustin. “Hey Stevie who’s at the door?” Y/N asked, having heard the knock from her room. “Oh hey Dustin what’s up?” she said casually. “Oh no no you aren’t fooling me” Steve said. “I wanna know what’s going on here” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Did you call Robin last night? Damn I knew I shouldn’t have told her.” She finished walking down the stairs and stepped beside Dustin, clasping his hand in hers. “No no no, none of that” Steve said, trying to break them apart. “Steve relax seriously, you are way too worked up about this” Y/N said. Steve sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt” he said. She let go of Dustin’s hand and put her hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I know that but this whole over protective brother act is suffocating”. Steve nodded. “If it helps, I have no intention of breaking up with Y/N and honestly, the past two months have been some of the happiest months of my life” Dustin added. Steve looked up at him suddenly. “TWO MONTHS??” he yelled. He lunged at Dustin, Y/N stepping between them before they collided.“Woah Stevie, chill take a deep breath”. She pushed him back.

“Okay okay I can deal with this, this is fine” Steve muttered under his breath. “But, we need to make some ground rules. No closed doors and no sneaking anybody in anywhere. You come in through the front door and make your presence known!” Steve said, pointing towards the door. The two teens nodded. “Okay…” Steve ran his hand through his hair. “I think I can get behind this but I’m gonna need some time to process.” He lowered himself down onto the couch. Y/N and Dustin looked at each other with smirking expressions. “Okay Steve…you just take your time. We’ll just be upstairs.” Y/N said, slowly leading Dustin upstairs. “Yeah…okay…but I want that door open!” He yelled after them. The two teens laughed and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Steve shook his head. “Crazy kids” he said, chuckling a bit as he realized he was glad that if his sister had to date anyone, it would be Dustin Henderson.

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {9/?}

Hey lovlies ✌🏻💕 sorry this part took so long something wasn’t sitting right with me so I rewrote it like 3 time 😫 but don’t worry I figured it out.

It’s all angst from here I’m afraid crew

👁💧👄💧👁

Pleasssssse let me know what you think, im hanging by a thread here 😭💕

Word count: 5.1K

Warning(s): fluff at the start :), a whole bunch of swearing, blood, mentions of death, let me know if I missed any! <3

Masterlist

taglist (open): @makeusfreefromthisfandom​, @cece-lives-here ​, @chocolate-raspberries​, @belsandthings​, @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus​, @britty443​, @tanyaherondale​, @furiouspockettoad​, @yunsh-17 , @random-thoughts-003​, @gloomybrieyxb​​, @linkpk88 ​, @big-galaxy-chaos​ , @im-a-stranger-thing ​​, @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway ,  @what-the-hap-is-fuckening​, @awkwardnesshabitat​, @pieces-by-me , @wreny24​, @marveloucnco , @babypink224221 , @bookish-bucky @alexa-rae-dreamz , @thebookisbtr , @nxstalgicnxbxdy , @cloudy-zoey , @booknymph02 , @tairisceana let me know if you’d like to be added <3  (i had to remove some because tumblr wont let me tag them 💔)

The next morning came by all too quickly, you’d barely gotten any sleep. Yourself and Isaac spent the whole night talking, just like you used to before the tone of your lives had changed drastically.

There was so much you needed to get off your chest, and of course Isaac had a lot to say too so that’s what the pair of you did- put everything out on the table.

You did a whole lot of talking, laughed a lot, cried a little and for the first time ever during one of your and Isaac’s late night chats there was an incredible amount of shared kisses. Those little perks of being a couple were something you could definitely get used to.

Your fingers drew circles on Isaac’s chest, the boy laid there, contently looking down at you. Your head was comfortably tucked against his shoulder, turned up at an angle so that you were still face to face.

He noted how your eyes glinted in the morning sun, watery due to lack of sleep. It was crazy to him; the effect that you had. He swore he could be on fire and all it would take to put him out was one of your reassuring smiles pointed even vaguely in his direction.

Realistically, Isaac knew he should’ve been sad- heartbroken, even. His father had just been quite brutally murdered, he should be a mess, but he wasn’t.

Maybe it had something to do with the years of trauma the man had inflicted on him or maybe it was Isaac’s new supernatural status, whatever the reason for it, Isaac wasn’t mourning the death of his father.

Instead, all he could think about was how warm your body felt against his.

“It’s morning time.” He smiled at your murmur, the smile widened when you pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Isaac hummed in acknowledgment and squeezed your leg that you had thrown across his stomach. “Yeah.”

You moved your chin to rest against his chest, eyes looking into his, “We can stay here if you want. We don’t have to go to school.” You suggested but Isaac knew it was more of a plea when he saw the hopeful grin growing on your lips.

“Nah I gotta go in. I have lacrosse practice.” He spoke out, his voice low and grumbly from how tired he was.

You scoffed jokingly, pushing yourself up so your lips were hovering over his, “Lacrosse huh?”

His eyes were hooded now as he glanced down at your lips, his hands moving to grasp your waist, “Mhm.”

With a smirk you ghosted his lips with your own, you could hear his heart beating through his chest and you could feel how badly he wanted to connect his lips to yours.

“Well then I guess we better get a move on.” You whispered against his lips, pulling away abruptly and hoping out of the bed, strutting to the bathroom with a sway in your hips as you knew he was watching.

A look of disbelief was painted across his face as he shouted through the walls, “Out of all the things that have happened this week that was the most fucked up!”

*

You were going to kill Scott when you got your hands on him. Seriously could he have been anymore obvious?

“Scott! What the hell are you doing.” You whispered from the bleachers, knowing he could hear you.

The boy whispered back, determination clear in his voice, “There’s another werewolf. I need to find out who it is.”

He must’ve smelled it off him. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Scott stop, I know who it is.” You panicked, by the time the words left your mouth both Isaac and Scott had sent each other flying through the air.

As you made your way down from your spot on the bleachers to separate the commotion happening between your two baby werewolves, you noticed sheriff Stilinski and a few deputies making their way across the field.

The sheriff’s gaze was set on Isaac and you found your feet matching the older man’s pace in a silent race to get to the boy in question.

Unfortunately, since you were unable to use vamp speed, the sheriff had beaten you in the unspoken race. His hand had wrapped around Isaac’s bicep as he attempted to lead him away.

When you realised what was happening, you threw caution to the wind and began jogging, not even sparing Scott or Stiles a glance when they called out for you to stop.

Once you were close enough you reached out, successfully grabbing Isaac’s wrist and stopping him and the sheriff in their tracks. “What’s going on?” You demanded, looking between Isaac and the sheriff.

“They think I killed my dad.” Isaac told you quietly and you couldn’t stop the look of utter disbelief that appeared on your face as you moved to stand between Isaac and the sheriff.

“Are you kidding me?” The sheriff sighed with exhaustion at your shout. He knew it was going to be a long day when he saw his son and Scott marching toward the already escalating scene.

“Look, kid. He’s a suspect we have to hold him.” Sheriff Stilinski had been making arrests for a long time but he was sure the look you were giving him was the most venomous he’d ever seen.

“A suspect? Why? What’s your proof?” You shot out, eyebrows furrowed and fangs ready to spring from your gums.

Maybe it had something to do with the night of the full moon looming but you were finding it extremely difficult to keep your anger in check. After yesterday, you were almost certain if your rage got out out of hand there’d be no stopping you.

“We, uh, have reason to believe that Isaac had motive to kill his father. That’s all I can tell you.”

You scowled at him, easing up only slightly as you felt Isaac interlocking his fingers with yours from behind you. “That’s bullshit! He couldn’t have killed his dad because he was with me.” You lied smoothly.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “With you?”

“Mhm. At my place.” You continued, ignoring the squeeze of warning you were getting from Isaac.

“Look, we have an eye witness account saying that Isaac fled his home, followed by his father and your name never came up.”

Letting out a cynical laugh you all but squared up to the man, “Yeah? And where do you think he fled to?” You asked challengingly.

You would’ve said more if Stiles hadn’t shoved himself in between yourself and his father, sporting a fake smile on his face as he started to ramble, “Hey guys! How we all doing? Good? Good. That’s really great to hear. (Y/n) can I borrow you for a second?” Stiles prompted you, nodding his head rather aggressively in an attempt to get you to stand down.

“No.” You and the sheriff spoke simultaneously, shocking Stiles.

“Young lady, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of what you’re saying. Being an accomplice to murder is a serious offence.” He told you sternly, clearly wanting to give you an opportunity to back down and walk away.

“(Y/n) come on.” Scott pleaded from behind you and you could feel the anxiety seeping off of both Stiles and Isaac.

Stiles laughed nervously, also trying to give you a fighting chance of walking away, “She’s not an accomplice! You’re not an accomplice, right?”

He fixed you with a confused look and repeated, “Right?”

“No I’m not an accomplice because Isaac didn’t kill his father!” You rebutted angrily through gritted teeth, the boys surrounding you terrified of the look on your face in that moment.

With a hard look, sheriff Stilinski took your arm in one hand and Isaac’s in the other and pulled the pair of you towards the police car, “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take you both into holding.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” You heard Scott exclaim desperately from behind you, his voice two octaves higher than usual.

Carefully, you began to whisper quietly under your breath so that only Scott and Isaac would hear you, “Tonight’s the full moon. I’m not letting them put him in a holding cell alone. Call Derek. Come get us out.”

You didn’t glance back at Scott to check if he heard you, you simply kept walking ahead and complied with the sheriff as he placed you into the car, beside Isaac.

*

“Since we’re technically in prison and you’re technically part k9, does that mean you’re my bitch?” You wondered out loud, looking across the holding cell at Isaac who sat (moping) on the bench.

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m mad at you.” He grumbled and you pouted from your spot on the floor.

“It was a serious question.” You whined.

Isaac groaned, completely disregarding your question, “You’re insane? You know that don’t you?”

“Rude.” You complained, leaning your head back against the cold bars of the cell.

“No seriously. You shouldn’t be in here with me.” Isaac grumbled yet again.

“Ok, first of all, you shouldn’t even be in here in the first place because-“ you paused, took a deep breath and looked at the camera adjacent to yourself and Isaac on the wall outside the cell before shouting, “He didn’t fucking do anything!”

You had to force yourself into calming down as you felt your anger causing your heart rate to rise rapidly, you took one more deep breath and then continued what you had been saying.

“Secondly, and in all seriousness, the idea of you being in here on your own makes me feel physically sick, especially since it’s your first full moon and all this crap with the Argents going on… I just wanted to be with you.” You admitted sheepishly, picking at the sleeves of your jumper to avoid his gaze.

Isaac’s heart beat picked up at your words but you couldn’t say anything as yours had too, with a soft sigh he muttered, “You don’t have to protect me.”

“I know. I know you don’t need protection, you never have. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t strength in numbers right now.” Isaac was quiet for a second before speaking up again.

“Hey, babe?” You looked up at the sound of his voice, he was giving you a soft smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah?” Isaac was shaking his head in disbelief, he let out a short chuckle and made his way across the cement floor and slid down beside you.

You watched him fondly and couldn’t help the roaring laugh that left your mouth when he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I’m definitely your bitch.”

*

Before either of you knew it, night had fallen and you’d begun to feel antsy. Your chest grew heavy with each noise or set of passing footsteps. You paced the cell restlessly, wringing your hands together and doing your best to disregard the feeling of dread swelling up inside of you.

It wasn’t long before Isaac was holding his head in his hands, his knee jutting in the same restless manner that you were pacing.

Growls were rising from the back of his throat and you wouldn’t lie, it was making you more than a little nervous.

You slowly approached him, proceeding with extra caution you reached out and tugged on his sleeve, hoping the action would bring him a sense of familiarity and not startle him.

Isaac’s head whipped around, his eyes glowing amber when they landed on you. “What’s happening?” He asked in a growl.

As gently as you possibly could, you moved your hands to Isaac’s cheeks and did your best to ignore his changed features.

“It’s the full moon. How are you feeling?” You kept your voice quiet, again trying to accommodate his heightened senses.

Isaac only screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw tightly, “Like I want to rip apart everything I see within a fifty mile radius.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at the holding area door, helplessly wishing Scott would come rushing through the door.

Isaac’s face seemed, for once, not to be comfortable in your hold as he began to growl and attempt to break out of your grip.

“No, no, no. Isaac, hey. Look at me.” The wolf reluctantly stopped wiggling and fixed his gaze on yours. Your eyes were now blazing purple and you felt your own composure slipping from your grasp.

Another gutteral sound left Isaac’s throat, his clawed hands digging into your hips for some kind of leverage. “Just keep looking at me alright… God, I don’t actually know how to do this but, uhm, just think about something that’ll keep you grounded, ok?” You told him frantically, speeding through your words as you heard the approaching footsteps of someone who was definitely not Scott or Derek.

The boy in front of you nodded his head just as the door opened. No, it didn’t open, it was practically pulled off its hinges. Effectively ruining the progress you’d made with your moon crazy boyfriend.

The man who walked in was dressed like a deputy but the gushing wound and arrow sticking out of his leg gave him away as a fake. As well as that, the gun he was pointing at Isaac gave him away as a hunter.

“Oh shit.” It was your turn to growl when Isaac broke out of your grasp. He pulled the cell door clean off, and set off towards the hunter.

Immediately, you ran behind him but before you could stop the two from killing each other, something else caught your eye. And your nose. It had taken over all of your senses, actually…

The blood leaking from his leg had you frozen on the spot, your mouth watering and mind unable to focus.

By now, Isaac had tossed the hunter aside and you weren’t sure when, but at some point Stiles had entered the room and your boyfriend was now attempting to attack your main food source.

“(Y/n)! Little help here?” Stiles cried from the floor and you tried your best to pull yourself together.

It didn’t take too much strength for you to restrain Isaac, you had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other around his torso, successfully holding him against your chest.

You hadn’t noticed how hungry you were in the moment, you needed to eat before someone would need to restrain you.

Pushing the hunger away you tried your best to get through to the new wolf struggling against your grip.

“Remember the thing that keeps you grounded! What was it? Tell me about it.” You tried to prompt, however as soon as Isaac attempted to respond a resounding howl filled the room.

The sudden noise had caused Isaac to cower against you. His body shook against yours, reluctantly you released him from your hold, allowing him to curl up in fear against the nearest wall.

Derek stood at the head of the room, his aura screaming for command as he glowered down at Isaac before turning his gaze to you and Stiles.

“I’m the alpha.” The Hale stated pompously.

With a questioning laugh you motioned towards the mess of the room, Isaac in wolf form shaking and whining like a kicked puppy, a mercenary bleeding and unconscious on the tiles and a very rumpled up Stiles.

“What you are is a grade A ass. Where the hell were you?” Derek stiffened at your agitated tone.

The man in question cleared his throat, his authority slipping away in the presence of your glare, “Scott & I went to scope Isaac’s house.”

“And that took you six hours?” You scoffed, kneeling down next to Isaac and running a gentle hand through the scared boy’s hair.

He whimpered at your touch, only quieting down when you transferred as much calming energy as you could manage to conjure up onto him.

It was getting harder to ignore the blood lust you were feeling, the smell of blood and Stiles’ racing pulse were beginning to cloud your mind. It wasn’t the usual hunger, though. It felt far more violent. Almost as if you’d never be able to get enough no matter how much you consumed.

“I need to leave.” You stated, standing from your spot beside Isaac and fixing Derek with a hard look, “Take Isaac somewhere safe.”

“Wait hold on, where are you going?” Derek asked sternly.

“To find some blood before I start ripping people’s throats out.” You responded bluntly, not waiting for his reply, you used your speed to leave the sheriff's station.

You found yourself in the woods. Close to the old Hale house.

There was a certain scent, you couldn’t quite place it though. It was metallic, but unlike the blood you were used to, it smelled stale.

But still, it was captivating your senses and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You couldn’t decide what was more overpowering, your hunger or your curiosity.

Impatiently, you made your way through the darkened tree line, following the scent until it led you to the building you were oh so familiar with.

The Hale house stood before you, menacing as ever and reeking of old blood.

As you walked up the porch steps, the rotten stairs creaked with every shift of weight. When you finally placed your hand on the door you realised your mistake.

What felt like a billion bolts of electricity shot through your body the second your palm met the door knob.

All of your breath left your lungs as your body hit the floor. As your legs and arms seized and convulsed on the forest floor, having rolled down the porch steps with the force of the shock, a voice sounded from out of the shadows.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here…” The voice was old and scratchy, something like a worn out vinyl, a record that had been played so often that some of the tunes now came out as a painful drawl. “Come on, let’s get her rigged up.” The man demanded and you writhed against the many pairs of hands that began dragging you to what you assumed was some kind of van.

Your vision was blurry as you attempted to get your bearings, sitting up in the van after the doors had been forcefully slammed and you were left alone.

“Le-“ You attempted to heave out words, your attempts were fruitless though as your lungs were still devoid of any oxygen.

Frustration seemed to give you the strength you needed as you finally regained enough control over your body to yell out, a very enraged, “Let me out you bastards!”

A cynical laugh came from the head of the van, “She has a lot of spunk. You’d know she was a L/n.”

“I’m going-“ You rasped yet again, fighting against the shackles that had been placed on your wrists at some point, “To fucking rip your stupid throat out! With my teeth!”

As threatening as your words were, your wheezy, out of breath voice let you down.

“Now, now. No need for that.” He spoke, only for a voice you recognised to cut him off.

“I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.” It was Chris Argent. You forced yourself to move as close to the front of the van as your shackles would allow.

“What exactly do you plan on doing with an innocent seventeen year old, Mr.Argent?” You drawled, the electricity almost completely out of your system, your lungs finally working at their usual capacity again.

When the hunter didn’t grace you with a response, and you figured you couldn’t do much else right in the moment, you decided you’d poke the proverbial bear.

“You tried to kill my boyfriend tonight… it’d be a real shame if I had to retaliate.”

“Shut it.” Chris said, his voice unamused, bordering on nervous.

Bored, you clicked your tongue, “No, I don’t think I will. Anyway, unless you want me to go into graphic detail about how I’m going to disembowel both of you when I get out, tell me why you’re kidnapping me.”

The old man chimed in then, “Because you, little girl, are an abomination.”

“And you, old decrepit asshole, are getting on my last nerve. Give me a straight answer before I make you give me a straight answer.” You tugged violently at the chains, loosening them from the metal wall, to convey your point.

“Brute force will get you nowhere, little wolf.” Wolf? There was your opening. They didn’t have a clue about you.

Deciding you couldn’t give away your only edge, you played into their delusions, “Where was that a few hours ago when you sent a hitman to put down a seventeen year old boy who's never done anything worse than miss an assignment?”

He scoffed then, “No matter how sweet you think you are. You wolves are all the same. You’re all killers.”

A laugh left the back of your throat, “Are you senile or something? Last time I checked you hunter dickheads were the ones killing people.”

“That’s enough, we’re done talking.” Chris asserted, you couldn’t see either of the men you’d been speaking to but you could imagine their clenched jaws at your statement.

With a smirk you kept talking, “You killed, what was it? Oh yes. All of the Hale’s. Cora was only a little older than me at the time, Kate torched the house five years ago so that would have made Cora twelve years old when she was burned alive.”

You paused for a second, allowing your anger to seep off of you and onto them. “Tell me… what monstrosities could a twelve year old girl have committed?”

“This is your last warning.” Chris grumbled and you ignored him yet again.

“All of these broken morals lead me to wonder; what would precious Alison think of all of this? Maybe I’ll ask her at school on Monday.” You tormented the men, readying yourself to make a break for it as you felt the van slow down.

Quietly, or as quietly as you possibly could, you freed your wrists from their shackles. Shakily you stood up and then you waited.

When the door opened you fixed the two men who were looking at you in mild shock with a smirk, “Hi.”

“How did you… those shackles were doused in mistletoe.” At the old man's shock your smirk broadened. It was something you had found out from both Damon Salvatore and Deaton. Mistletoe only weakened wolves, not vampires.

With a coy shrug you shot them a wink, “I’d really love to stay and chat but, I have homework.” With that you began to run, but the older man caught your forearm before you got a clean break.

And normally, his amount of strength wouldn’t have been able to stop you, what was really hindering your movement was the dagger he had logged in your abdomen.

Your eyes were wide and you let out a pathetic squeal of pain when he twisted the knife in your stomach, his voice was menacing as he spoke, “You’re not going anywhere.” He spat out in your face, hand firm on the dagger.

“Yes. I. Am.” You seethed through gritted teeth, containing the blood that was filling your mouth.

Using whatever strength you could muster, you threw the man away from you and took off running, the dagger still lodged in your abdomen.

When you were sure you were far enough away, you fell to your knees.

Taking a shaky breath you looked around the street you’d landed on. You weren’t sure where you were and your phone was lying abandoned on the floor of the woods. It was times like this you wish you had a howl.

Then as if it was some incredible mirage, driving down the street was a light blue jeep. “Stiles!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, dragging yourself to the edge of the road.

“Stiles! Stiles please!” You cried out, letting out a breath of relief when the jeep stopped only a few meters from you.

Within seconds Stiles was sprinting over to you, sliding the rest of the way on his knees and cupping your face with a terrified expression, “Y/n!? What hap- hu- oh dear god!” He tried his best not to gag when he noticed that you were literally impaled.

“Ok. Ok. No what happened? Wait no. Right not important.” The boy rambled and you let him lead you as he picked you up from the dirt and placed you laying down across the back seat of his jeep.

Stiles drove like a madman to the hospital, wincing when you’d whimper and muttering apologies when you’d let out a cry.

“I think you would’ve been really proud of how I handled that situation.” You jested weakly from your spot, Stiles looked at you briefly in disbelief.

“What? By getting stabbed?” He shot back.

You offered him a faint giggle, “Nah, you shoulda heard me, Sty. I was such a snarky bitch.”

“So that’s how the stabbing thing happened. Got it.”

Only a few more minutes passed before you’d arrived at the hospital. Stiles had practically dragged you in and you couldn’t help the mewls of agony you were letting out as he passed you off to Melissa.

“What the hell happened?” She screeched and all you could offer in response was a blood filled cough, causing Melissa to nod her head in understanding, “Right. Questions later.”

*

Aimlessly you looked around for something, anything.

You were in complete darkness, but your body stood tall and seemingly healthy, no sign of any kind of wound.

A dull, yellow light shone in the distance. Cautiously, you took a step forward and it was only then that you knew where you were.

Under your feet, which were devoid of any shoes or socks, wet leaves crunched under your weight and you found yourself, yet again, standing in front of the Hale house.

It looked how it usually did, sad and decolate. However, what was unusual was that dull light shining through one of the partially melted windows.

Humming sounded from the home, hitting your ears in perfect pitch. It brought a wave of calmness over you, tranquilizing your fears as you twisted the knob that had once sent you into a horrific shock.

The rotten hardwood cooled your feet as you shuffled thoughtlessly through the house which you used to view as a home away from home.

“You put up a great fight.” A deep voice spoke from inside the lit room.

The voice was unmistakable, but you knew that there was only one explanation for why you were hearing it. For as long as you could, you wanted to hold onto your naivety.

“Who's there?” You called in response while small steps carried you closer and closer to the room.

The voice let out a chuckle, “I think you already know.”

Finally, you arrived in the room. Confronting the voice you knew all too well.

“Good to see you again, sweetheart.” You saw his face then, standing charred and battered like a fallen angel was Peter Hale.

The sob that fell from you was impossible to stop, you didn’t waste another second, you threw yourself at the man in front of you. A teary smile found your face when he welcomed you with open arms, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you cried into his shoulder.

“Quiet now, no more tears.” He said, pulling away from you, his thumb brushing under your eye gently, sweeping the falling teardrops away.

With a sniffle you looked at your surroundings before returning your gaze to Peter, “Am I dead?” You asked meekly.

Oddly enough, you felt accepting of it. Liked it, almost. It was quiet here- wherever here was.

“Temporarily.” He answered, guiding you further into the room. It had a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and two wooden chairs sat vacant underneath it. “Have a seat.”

Doing as told, you sat down on the chair opposite Peter. “Where are we?” You questioned, the silence, although peaceful, was overwhelming.

Peter gave you a small grin, gesturing to the room around you, “Purgatory.” He answered simply.

He stared at you then, a look in his eyes you recognised but, for the first time since you’d turned, you couldn’t feel it. It was something akin to sadness. It held love too, though.

“The next part is the hardest. When you wake up you won’t have a clue how you got there. You’ll be starving and all you’ll want to do is start tearing people apart.” He explained and your stomach dropped.

You were going to wake up and complete the transition, you’d be a fully fledged vampire and all because of some stupid knife wound.

“I won’t remember being dead?”

Peter shook his head, “You’ll remember this part, not the actual passing over part though.”

A tear slipped from your eye and you forced yourself to take in a shaky breath, “Passing over to where?”

Peter shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve never gotten that far; too much unfinished business.” He tried to lighten the mood, but he realised there was no use as he noticed your breathing pick up and your eyes fill with tears yet again.

“You’re strong, you’ll be perfectly fine. You are my beta, after all.” He soothed, moving his chair so it would be next to yours.

You let out a croaky laugh at that, “I haven’t been strong. I’ve been drowning ever since you bit me, I haven’t done much other than fight with myself.”

“Not true. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Keeping Derek under control is a job not everyone is up for, but you’re doing it like it’s nothing. Although, you’d be doing a lot better if I had gotten to you before Derek ripped by throat out.” He muttered the last part, obviously not happy with your trip to Mystic Falls.

“Damon told me you used to drink together.” You recalled with a smile, distracting yourself from the future of impending darkness.

Peter laughed at the memory but didn’t speak.

The dense silence returned, not for long though, distantly you heard shouts. They were more like pleads really. Or were they screams?

“Y/n! Can you hear me? Y/n! Y/n!”

Softly, you turned your head towards the doorway, the hallway light was turned on now too, “Someone’s calling me.”

Peter stood up, a heavy grief filled sigh falling from him as he offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet when you took it. “It’s almost time. But not just yet, there's one last thing you need to do.”

“What is it?” You asked, not sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Peter pulled you close, placed a kiss to the top of your head then began guiding you, arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder.

He answered you solemnly, blue eyes sparkling with unwanted wisdom, “You have to say goodbye.”

[majorbaby]

i woke up with additional thoughts on what this means for engaging with fanwork and my discomfort with 'this is for fun' being used to dismiss things.

firstly because i don't think that gives proper weight to fun, joy and play all of which i think are wrongly cast as being frivolous which is in no small part thanks to grind culture and capitalism valuing production over anything else.

and secondly because some things cannot be fun (except when you find some kind of fun angle to approach them with sorry i can't shake off postmodernism lol) and honest at the same time. you gotta make things bad and awful sometimes not as a choice, but because that's what they are. you take away the awfulness and it's no longer the thing that it was.

like if you can't talk about bad or ambiguous endings or character eing messed up for no obvious reason or flashback to whatever singular event in their life which has traumatized them, then you really cannot address racialized experiences or queer experiences (and the intersection of both) in a varied way. and that's what good representation is - a varied representation of experiences. instead we have now "there's a queer character" and "there's a black woman in this"

this is linked to the 'proship' vs 'anti' debate and the weaponization of the term 'safe space' and the assignment of every last behaviour to some kind of moral standard. this really hurts racialized people. the ritegud podcast used the example of people likening bernie sanders to an 'angry abusive father' for being angry about, idk, the broad state of human rights in america, for cussing about it, for getting riled up during his speeches. setting down the fact that i'd say it's a righteous anger, the podcasters pointed out that he's just a new yorker. to be more specific, he's a jewish man from new york, which i'm sure had some influence upon the way his non-jewish critics on the left attacked his character - but it also has to do with an increased value of the 'kickass' the 'that's the good shit' - which may not appear to demand respectability and order, but as soon as its lacking, your wrist is slapped hard or you're characterized as being a degenerate.

'bad kinks' - you know what they are, 'untouchable' or 'proship' content etc is actually a more sanitized opponent than the antis claim to be fighting against. all stories that are too dark to be told are relatives of that type of 'bad content' by virtue of their creators having been told at some point 'you can't tell this story' and sometimes audiences being told 'you can't listen to this story'

lots of stories about people on the fringes of society contain examples of degeneracy because it's thrust upon us by the ruling class. naturally these experiences aren't fun, so why would stories about them be fun except to pander to people who otherwise won't consume those stories?

LRB raquel and i have had our differences (parasocial) but in her conversation she talks about the "squeedom" movement in literature, which is adjacent to fandom and relies on the online-ity of readers. she approached it from her experience with science fiction and fantasy but much of what she said resonated with me and how i feel, how ive often felt, engaging with fanfiction and fandom.

one part in particular - if you take a racialized character and pop them into a standard sci-fi story, that will do pretty well and the story is praised for its diversity. it's in vogue right now to do that. but readers and publishers are much less amicable to stories that are about a black or latinx or asian narratives, which is hard to explain without naming a specific piece but like - stories which get labelled as being "post colonial" for example, even tho they may belong to a genre such as fantasy, romance, sci fi etc.

and that's in part because escapism is much harder to come by in those kinds of stories, which are often bleak or horrifying or contain sexual taboos that people arent ready for or arent ready for if it isnt white bodies partaking.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 3: I See Fire

part 2

Part 3

Viren: Well how do you suggest we get him out?

Claudia: *grins, brandishes marshmallow on toasting fork* Unharmed is just another kind of harmed

Viren: Claudia no

Claudia: Claudia YES

I See Fire

Angst rating: 9/10

Viren is clever enough not to take the Silvergrove on alone, no matter how badly he wants Ethari to make him a magic key. Aaravos could be cooking in that pod for a while longer, but Viren still has a trustworthy and badass ally at his side.

Oh yeah, it's Claudia Time again!

Claudia is a powerful and imaginative dark mage, and she has the tainted Sun staff. So, you're the magefam, and you've made it to Xadia, to the edges of the Moonshadow Forest. And all you need to do to get the power of your dreams is to threaten one soft craftsman. But how do you find one specific Moonshadow elf in a hidden Moonshadow village somewhere in the middle of a giant spooky magical forest?

You burn him out.

Credit once again to@random-fandom-ramble for reminding me of this forest fire headcanon, because it fits so well. and so I don't get all the blame for this one, lol

Because see, that's not ordinary fire. Oh, no. That's dark magic fire. We've seen that before. It leaves permanent scars. Remember Sol Regem's eyes?

That's going to be the landscape when Claudia's fire gets through with the Moonshadow elves' home. Where I live on the US West Coast, they name forest fires, and if they combine, they get called complexes. So maybe we can name this fire the Dark Tragedy Complex? Because I do have to wonder... you could start a dark magic forest fire easily with a tainted Sun staff, but how do you put it out?

Two things are going to happen if these events should unfold. One is angsty. The other is also angsty but then amazing.

Firstly, Viren is going to get what he wants. He'll find Ethari, whose tree burned down :(. He'll show him the coins, and he'll offer a trade. Build what he wants and make it work, and Ethari can have his family back, uncoined and free.

And Ethari will say yes.

He'll say yes no matter what anyone else tries to persuade him to do, and I hope they do try, because see: Ethari has to make it look good. He has to make it look like he's all in on Viren's plan, to Viren. Even if that means turning his back on his people in their time of greatest need.

Secondly, the Moonshadow elves are going to be collectively homeless and bereft, hungry, injured, terrified, angry. They will have nowhere to go. They will be a people without a home. And no one else in Xadia will help them. Maybe they're too terrified to hide Ethari's people in case doing so brings Viren down on them, too. We've seen how ordinary elves flee in terror from dark magic. Maybe they're all fighting other issues, too. Viren knows all about stretching resources too far during times of crisis. Whatever the case, there will be no welcome anywhere in Xadia for the Moonshadow elves of the Moonshadow Forest.

But here's where it gets amazing. Because one hand will reach out. One small hand, from across the border. Good King Ezran will stand up on the seat of his throne and say, "You can stay here. I have forests. You're tired, you're hungry. You need medicine. Let me help."

And I'm gonna cry like a little baby.

How many cycles does this break, how many circles does it complete? Moonshadow elves used to live in Katolis before the border was created. When humans were under threat of total annihilation, the Moonshadow leader's daughter spoke up and asked for mercy. That mercy came in the form of land reassignment, and the Moonshadow elves had to give up their ancestral home, their Nexus, and travel east across the new Border. But that mercy got paired with justice, and the life-loving Moon Druids probably had to swear some kind of blood promise to keep an eye on the humans forevermore, and to kill any individuals who got out of hand, as if their sins were the Moonshadows' responsibility now.

That's got to breed a little resentment, a little superiority. "Look what we sacrificed for you, and this is how you act. Ungrateful." And maybe that was partially Luna Tenebris's goal: to hold to her vision of justice, she had to make the elves who shared her arcanum feel a little resentment. Moonshadows love life, but we can't have them being too soft to keep Xadia safe from dark mages, now, can we? I will never stop cackling over dragon politics okay, never

But the Moonshadow elves never figured on King Ezran. A soft boy who refused to let his father's assassination harden his heart, because every life is genuinely important to him. I've seen headcanons for Ezran getting the Sun, Earth, Ocean, and Stars arcanum. How about Moon, too? Because this is very Ethari of him, and if these stories of Viren's plan and the Moonshadow elves' displacement were actually to happen in tandem, the contrast between Ezran's soft choice and Ethari's hard one would be mindblowing.

Ezran completes the circle by inviting the Moonshadow elves to return to Katolis, to their ancestral home. They left long ago, paying the price for an act of mercy, but they were welcomed back by the mercy of humans, repaid after a thousand years, repaid in the face of tragedy. Tragedy on all sides. Tragedy Ezran wants to stop from happening, by being brave and caring and soft, and by being the first to break this thousand-year cycle between Katolis and the Moonshadow elves.

Rayla is his friend. And these are her people. It won't matter what they've done, only that they need help in a time of great desperation. And of course he'll help them. He's Ezran, and he's Katolis's greatest treasure.

Oh, what's that you say? Inviting the Moonshadow elves to settle in Katolis again would make it easier for Rayla to live with Callum in the future? Oh gosh, how about that? What a deal. *smug matchmaker noises*

And once the Moonshadow elves understand that they're safe and begin to trust Ezran--which could happen very quickly, because saving a Moonshadow elf's life when you didn't need to is a really fast way to prove you're trustworthy--maybe Ezran will be encouraged to take the next step toward peace, and eventually other elves and dragons will come to meet together to talk it over. And Ez will offer them jelly tarts, which they will love.

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem. What if we are gifted with Iron Man Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost- almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone: Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would know that Ethari would have to stay close to Viren of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. And making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Runaan and Ethari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future, or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What beating Viren looks like, I can't guess yet. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in thwarting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

part 4

[asknarashikari]

Minific: A super sentai water fight, with all powers allowed, who would win?

Isn’t it obvious who will win though

“I don’t know about this... I’m not really a water-themed hero, after all, I might just be a burden to you guys...”

“Okay, first off, stop talking about yourself like that, Yayoi-chan. You’re not a burden to anyone, much less us,” Nanami sternly told the violet heroine. “Secondly, you’re the Oceanic Hero, aren’t you? That definitely qualifies you as one of us, even if you can’t directly control water like we do.”

“But...”

“And your partner believes in you too, right?” cheered Urara.  Yayoi nodded as she heard the faint, but distinct croon of Plezuon in her heart. “So believe in yourself too!”

“Don’t worry, alright? We’re here to back you up,” said Ryuunosuke. “Us water users gotta stick together, after all. Even if it means going up against my own lord once in a while.”

“You know it’s serious if Ryuunosuke is actually going against Takeru,” Hyde said with a chuckle. “Don’t you want to give them a little trouble, for thinking that they can beat us at our own element?” he asked.

“Well... they can use their own elements as well...” Yayoi said thoughtfully. “We’d be especially vulnerable to the likes of Utchy-san and Tsubasa-san... And there are ways to block our attacks with the other elements, as well.”

“True, so, we need to step up our game.” Ryuunosuke stated. “I know for certain that my attacks and Hyde’s can fuse to make each other stronger. Nanami-san’s ninja abilities and Urara-san’s other magic spells can help us, as well. And you also have access to other powers through those batteries you use, yes?”

“Yes. Actually, most of the ones I have right now are my friends’... they’re usually used to activate alternate forms for Plezuon, but... I should be able to use them as well.”

“That’s good. They probably won’t see you using their own powers against them,” Nanami pointed out. 

“Sounds like we have a game plan.” Urara smirked. “Let’s go put those guys in their place...”

“And then, we can make them drink their own words.” Hyde said, and the rest groaned. “What? Was it that bad?”

(Hyde’s terrible pun turned out to be entirely accurate, and everyone else went home that day soaked to the bone from their combined forces.) 

[gallavictorious]

Once again the fandom coming together to daydream about Mickey helping Ian out and seeing him back on track to become an emt again but why is that on Mickey? Why does he always have to do things to make Ian happy when Ian's usually nothing but annoyed by Mickey and does nothing to make Mickey happy? Truly shows which character y'all care about more.

This got absurdly long, because I am who I am and did take the opportunity to go off on a tangent about valid conclusions and what not, so I put it under a cut. Read at your own risk! Oh, and I also do address the actual question about whether or not Ian's career is on Mickey, and whether or not Ian never does anything to make Mickey happy. ;)

For the sake of clarity, I got this ask in response to this post.

And I gotta say, nonnie, getting this ask perplexed me to the point of running off to Trusted Fandom Friends, demanding to know how my undying love and loyalty for Mickey could ever be doubted. Had to laugh at myself a little, actually, and the strenght of my befuddlement. It reminded me of the time I went on a trip with people from the 501st (cosplayers dedicated to the bad guys in Star Wars) and Rebel Legion (cosplayers dedicated to the good guys in Star Wars) and a lot of people assumed I was a Rebel sympathizer simply because I had friends in that group and those were the people who had invited me. Excuse me, I didn't yell, I have like 30 Darth Vaders in my damned home, how dare you question my allegiance? I was so used to always being known as a diehard Vaderkin fangirl that the mer fact of strangers failing to recognize me as such genuinely fucked a little with my sense of identity. My love of Mickey isn't anywhere near as deeply ingrained into my sense of self, since he's only been an occasional presence in my life since 2016 while Darth Vader's been my main man since 1994, but it was still a little jarring to suddenly find myself (mis)identified as an Ian stan.

Being a fangirl is strange.

And I want to make it clear that I do love Ian. He's a fascinating character and, to me, he's a character that's often much harder to understand than Mickey. He rewards careful analysis and discussion, though, so I guess I tend to talk a lot about him? I don't need to spend as much time considering Mickey's feelings and motivations because they are (almost) always pretty obvious; I don't need to tease them out. But at the end of the day, Mickey is my favourite. (Though I'll always love Ian and Mickey together more than I love either of them on their own. It's like fresh cilantro and mint – each perfectly lovely in their own right, but the combination of them creates a flavour that's just out of this world.)

Now, you might argue that you don't follow me and so have no idea who I am and what I like to post about, and that going only by that single post (which, in fairness, was tagged with 'i just want ian to be happy okay?') I give off the general impression of an Ian stan. And that's fair enough; I'm an obscure blog in a decently big fandom and you're not required to keep track of anyone. However, if you want to throw around passive aggressive accusations of caring more about one character than the other, I will ask you to do your research first. Reacting to one single piece of data without considering the context is a common but highly unfortunate practice that needlessly complicates meaningful conversations, and we'd all do well to abstain from it.

Oh, you don't want to spend a lot of time and energy on consdering every single thing a specific Tumblr blog has ever said on a specific topic just so you can draw a valid conclusion about their stance? That's perfectly understandable, nonnie, and easily sorted: refrain from making unsubstantiated claims about what other people think or don't think and you won't have to. Ask them, if you wonder. If you see a tendency in fandom to put the responsibility for Ian's wellbeing and career or Mickey's shoulders and want to discuss that, that's totally cool! I am game (and will address that question below)! But it's very possible to do that without somewhat rudely ascribing perferences and opinions to other people, and you'll get better answers for it (for instance, you won't have to wade through me rambling on about valid conclusions and my memories from other fandoms... ).

It seems to me, though, that this touches upon a long-held frustration of yours. If I interpret your ask correctly, you think the show gives us an Ian who is mostly annoyed with Mickey and doesn't do anything to make him happy, and you think that the fandom responds to this by relegating Mickey to the role of Ian's caretaker, whose sole purpose is to serve Ian's needs without any regard for what might Mickey himself happy. Have I got that right?

If so, it should be noted that I don't agree with either of these takes: I don't think that's the Ian the show gives us (a point I will return to below), and I don't think that fandom at large only cares about Ian's happiness, and I particularly don't think that my post can be used a evidence of the latter.

For instance, when you sent me this ask the post in question had all of 40 notes. As I write this, it has just over 70. ”The fandom coming together” seems to be slightly overstating the case, don't you think? There are certainly fans who care more about Ian and only see Mickey as valuable as long as he contributes to Ian's happiness, just as there are fans who care more about Mickey and only see Ian as valuable as long as he contributes to Mickey's happiness - but this single post with less than a hundred notes does not support that either of these stances would be predominant within the fandom. (And, while on the topic, I'd like to state that I don't actually see a problem with either of those stances; these are fictional characters that exists for our entertainment and we don't have any moral obligations to treat them equally and fairly. Don't ruin other fans' fun by dumping on either of them in the character or shipping tags or on character and shipping posts and this is not a problem. It might be a somewhat unpopular opinion, but I don't think you have to love or even like all characters in a ship to ship it: I refuse to drink plain tea because it's nasty but put a splash of milk in it and its my favourite thing ever. You can love a combination without loving all the seperate pieces on their own. And yeah, I do revert to food metaphors a lot. I like food.)

Secondly, whether or not the post can be said to represent the feeling of the fandom at large (it cannot), I think that reading a post specifically about ”Mickey helping Ian out and seeing him back on track to become an emt again” and then extrapolating from that that Mickey ”always have to do things to make Ian happy” is a little wild. The very first thing I wrote for this fandom was a vision of Ian offering Mickey comfort, goddammit. (Ian giving Mickey a hug is so high on my list of desires, you can't even imagine)

As for your actual question (and, ah, imagine how much shorter this post would be if you had just left it at that) – of course that's not on Mickey. That much, incidentally, I've actually explicitly stated in another post. Ian might have his issues but he's still an adult and responsible for himself. That being said, I don't see it as particularly strange that someone would go out of their way to help their partner when they see them struggling? If I realize that someone I care about is unhappy and there's a way for me to help, I would want to help because I love them and want them to be happy, even if it's – ethically speaking – not my responsibility to do so. Pretty sure Mickey, who is action-oriented and so very protective of the people he loves, feels the same way.

Of course, if it's a one-sided thing – if one partner is always the one to do stuff for the other and never receives any support in return – that's not a healthy relationship, and I assume that this is what you're seeing in the show and taking exception to?

Only... I can't help but wonder who this Ian is, this uncaring, selfish version you see – because I don't quite get how it can be the Ian who emptied his bank account for Mickey, or the Ian who was ready to throw his parole and stay in prison for Mickey even when they were in the middle of a fight specifically because Mickey said it would make him happy, or the one who kept trying to talk to Mickey and win him back after Mickey punched him in the face, accidentally broke his leg, and took off with a new lover (I'm not taking sides in this one, btw – I have a lot of sympathy and understanding for both of them and their actions throughout this whole sorry affair), or the Ian who immediately wanted to marry Mickey protect him from the consequences of a murder Ian thought he had actually comitted, or the Ian who went along with arranging a real wedding even though he initially didn't at all understand why this was important to Mickey and who had someone come serenade him once he did, or the Ian who chose At last for Mickey to walk up to the aisle to, or the Ian who keeps trying to reach out to Mickey and to touch him and discuss their issues in a mature way even when he's (justifiably) upset about Mickey using all their wedding money without telling Ian. (Though Ian deciding for both of them that they're saving the money isn't great either.)

I mean, Ian's absolutely done shitty things, as has Mickey. They're human, and they're the products of a chaotic and often hostile enviroment. They do mess up a lot; they've hurt each other rather badly over the years. Depending on your perspective and preferences, you may think one or the other have behaved worse, but as far as I can see, the claim that Ian never does anything to make Mickey happy is simply not supported.

Ian has seemed unusually annoyed with Mickey this season, I'll give you that, but while that's not always the most fun thing to watch and I strongly sympathize with the wish to just see Ian look at Mickey with that fond look again, I don't find him being frustrated right now all that weird, given the circumstances. I'd argue it has less to do with Mickey and more to do with a general frustration over thwarted ambitions and not being able to hold on even to a really shitty job, though Mickey's attitude doesn’t exactly help (which is not to say that I think that Ian's the one in the right here, becasue Ian's way of handling things hasn't always been been stellar either). However, I do have faith in them sorting this out – because even though they fight and bicker and get annoyed with each other, there's never any indication that they're not both committed to making this marriage thing work. They certainly stumble, they misunderstand each other and lash out, but they calm down and go to sleep in the same bed and compromise and keep trying. Every day, they – both of them – choose each other.

I'd like to finish this off by noting, even though it's not entirely relevant to my argument, that that the number one thing that does make Mickey happy is being together with Ian, and even when Ian is pissed at Mickey and withholding sex (which was very ill-advised but says a lot of interesting things about his character, I think!) no one's sleeping on the couch, there are no nights away from the house and each other, and even in the middle of an argument they sit and stand next to each other. I think that's pretty telling of Ian's dedication, especially given his propensity for running away from his problems.

Phew. Okay, nonnie – though we don't agree and I doubt you'll find this answer satisfactory, I hope you see that I have done my best to understand your point of view and treat your arguments fairly and give you a thoughtful response. If you'd like to get back to me and elaborate on your stance, I'd ask that you show me the same courtesy. :)

[secretshinigami]

routine and soft eyes

Author: @hazblogs For: @beyondplusultra Pairings/Characters: nearmellomatt, mention of lawlight Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of Mello’s scar  Prompt: Wammy House kids sleepover (A, B, L can be included, can be AU) Author’s notes: I had so much fun with this !!! soft bois…. thank you to anyone who reads it !!

Mello is positively fuming. Someone (who shall not be named, though if you want to know it starts with “N” and ends with “-ate River”) just got on top of Forensic Science and Investigative Skills and History of Crime and the Justice System. Those are Mello’s topics. They’re the best at these and they always have been (in the two years they’ve studied here. But that’s long enough, right ?), so the fact that Mister Nobody just came in and stole their turf… That’s infuriating. To top it all off, the dean did them dirty and assigned someone to the second bed in their room, knowing full well that they need that second bed for Matt. This week is just a pile of flaming shit.

As they swing the door open they are greeted by the beeping sounds usually coming from Matt’s bed, a comforting electronic melody. Matt doesn’t even turn around to raise his middle finger to protest against how loud Mello is, but that’s also common practice around here, so no worries. 

“Heard you got your ass beat,” Matt says a while later, Mello’s hand carding through his strawberry-green hair. “By the newbie no less. How’re you taking it ?”

“Matt, my hand is dangerously close to your eyes and you need those to play on that stupid console. Better not risk it.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me,” Matt grumbles, and the certainty with which he speaks makes their heart pulse just a little faster. Mello is hopelessly in love, aren’t they ?

The rest of the evening is quiet save for that same musical background, a welcome white noise as Mello finishes their essay for Writing Comedy. The teacher seems to have some trouble with their rather macabre humour so they try to tone it down for once - rather unsuccessfully.

“Also heard you’ll have a roommate,” Matt continues a few hours later as they prepare for bed - gotta put some moisturiser on that scar like a damsel doing her skincare routine, the doctor said, “or you’ll experience how actually painful it can be”. Talk about being threatening…

“I heard. I can kick them out.” Mello would do it. Without remorse, even.

“I can sleep in your bed too,” Matt offers. “But only if you promise not to kick me out from under the covers every single night.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off, and secondly, why the hell would I want someone else to room with me ? You’re already here. You’ve always been here.”

“And I always will be, Mels. Just… I think it’s time you get out of your shell a little bit, you know ? You can’t keep pretending that talking to me twice every day and ignoring Linda a couple times a week is enough friendly interaction for the little pea inside your coconut.” Mello turns away from the mirror, moisturiser in hand, and sends a glare to Matt who sighs and raises his hands in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t try ! Think about it, okay, Mello ?”

They do think about it. The whole night. They don’t sleep - it’s not because Matt snores but that’s the excuse they’ll use. Ever since the accident and the scar, people have usually been too impressed - or scared - by them to even consider starting a casual conversation. Matt was there even before, and he probably always will be, Linda is a weirdo who wants to draw them with a ponytail, and… Well, that’s it. Mello lives for schoolwork, to be the best and hope to right some of the wrongs in this world.

“Yo, Mihael,” the dean says when he sees them in front of his office the following morning. Lawliet is a TA at their university, still haunting the dorms. He has a creepy smile under his stupid raccoon eyes and he keeps using Mello’s birthname, like it makes any more sense to call them with that than to call them “xXx_sexy_blondie_xXx”, or however you pronounce that out loud.

“Lawliet. I saw you assigned me a roommate.”

“I did,” he smiles still, like there’s a joke Mello doesn’t get.

“Why ?” Mello would actually like to know - Lawliet never does anything at random.

“You’ll see when he arrives later today,” is the cryptic answer, and Mello sneers at their stupid fucking dean as they leave for their 8am lecture.

Because yes, multiple things are out to get their skin - though they won’t be deterred.

The day goes by in a flash, Screenwriting and Poetry being two of their most interesting classes, and by the time they’ve finished their Crime Prevision and Prevention homework at the library, the sun is well on its way down. Mello walks slowly to the dorms, enjoying the warm air - it’s still only September and winter hasn’t come yet. The music blasting from their headphones is a perfect background to the chill atmosphere, a few bird silhouettes dark against the wonderfully peach clouds. In a few minutes they’ll kiss Matt and they’ll eat a bite, and they’ll sleep knowing they’re safe now.

When they arrive in front of their room, a few cardboard boxes occupy the entrance. Shit fuck hell, they’d forgotten the roommate arrived today. All they can see from where they’re blocked from entering is a white blob of hair on top of baggy clothes, perched on the desk and looking at whatever Matt is playing.

“Uh, I’m supposed to be able to enter my own room,” Mello kind of yells. Only kind of. “Would you please not be a giant stupid bother before I even get your name ?”

“Sorry,” the snowball says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Nate River.”

“But you can call him Near ! He plays retro games, which isn’t… let’s say it’s not my strong point, but I’m sure it’ll go well, we’re three whole weirdos with weirdo nicknames !”

Mello blinks. Near is still here. They blink again. Near is still here, looking a little like a frog with his lopsided smile, a hand playing with one of his curls. Mello blinks a third time and doesn’t expect Near to have packed his things and go, but that was a close call.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” they mutter. “Lawliet is gonna get killed.”

“You actually know enough about criminology to not be caught, so go you.” Near is smirking. Mello wants to cry. “But I would advise against it, because he’s dating that twink Light Yagami, the alumni who came last week to give the presentation about the War on Drugs and its consequences. He’s a police lieutenant now.”

“Called it !” Matt raises a fist in victory, taking five years from Mello’s lifespan. “Anyway, now that you’re here, please do help us with the last boxes. We’ve been setting up Near’s compy and it’s revoltingly difficult.”

“I will not- how can you ask me to- I’m gonna commit arson and this time I promise I’ll succeed !”

“Dramatic bitch,” Matt says jovially. “Just come in and drop your stuff, apparently someone from the ADA thing comes tomorrow to make sure the room is accessible with a crutch and to help Near settle in.”

Mello just now notices that Near isn’t fully standing up - he’s propped on the desk, a mechanical knee peeking through the bottom of his shorts. This changes nothing - though Mello feels the both grim and hopeful sense of community that disabled people get when they meet. Their ear still works wonky and their eye ? Not the sharpest either. Without talking about all the skin damage, the phantom pain, the- hell no, they won’t get into “reflective mode” without having eaten dinner first.

Reluctantly, Mello spends the rest of the evening avoiding Near as Matt and them help him settle in, surprised by the small amount of belongings he actually has - most of the boxes he brought are board games and hundreds of little kapla sticks. Is Near planning to recreate the Golden Bridge ? He looks like a nerd, maybe it’ll be the Death Star.

Routines are a persistent thing, and before they know it, Near has managed to get a small space - small, they insist - in Mello’s well-oiled machinery. He eats breakfast with Matt, a meal that Mello forgoes entirely, and he goes on unfortunate walks to his PT appointments, because he’s out of money from whatever government organism gives benefits to disabled people and can’t afford a cab. Mello thinks they should get into it a little more, maybe call their case worker, because ramen tastes worse and worse when you have it for every meal of the week. And then Near and Matt start talking about something or another, especially topics that annoy Mello, or Near gets a little too close to them while they both work on their assignments at their desk, his elbow barely brushing Mello’s side. It makes them shiver, but they will ignore that, thank you very much.

Another routine - bedtime - has gotten a little different. One single bed is enough for “one person and a half”, according to Matt, so the obvious solution to them being three in a two single beds room is to push the beds together.

“And now you have a perfect three people beddery !” Matt triumphantly declared. “Mello, you sleep in the middle.”

“Why am I in the middle ?” they protested. “It’s the least comfortable !”

“Oh well, we can take turns,” Near had snarked, knowing full well that the first one of them to sleep in the middle would have to accept defeat.

Mello does end up in the middle, Matt cuddled against their left side where the burn is, and Near an ever-closer presence against their right arm. It’s not as uncomfortable as they expected. Near doesn’t snore and he smells like minty toothpaste, a strangely comforting scent that lulls Mello to sleep way more easily than the five thousand melatonin pills they take before going to bed.

Oh well, maybe Lawliet can live a little longer. His boyfriend - Matt saw them kissing through the peephole, it’s official now - won’t have any (more) reasons to put Mello behind bars.

Near gets on top of International Law and keeps wearing strangely baggy clothes everywhere - or well, everywhere but in the dorms. Mello has time to get used to that mechanical knee, even asking a few questions about phantom pains on the days Matt is away and the itching gets unmanageable. Near is quiet like snow but they’re nothing alike in warmth, grey eyes like molten metal setting on Mello’s face and crinkling in a smile.

And it works wonders. One time they get a bad mark (for their standards) and they even study with Near for extra credit, a presentation about the death penalty that lasts about three quarters of the two hours class. The teacher gives them both full marks and Matt celebrates by crushing them both against his chest, the smell of motor oil and mint so comforting that Mello closes his eyes, just for a little while.

It’s winter before they have time to think about it, and finals go by in a blur of “no sleep, no food, no distractions”. They even manage to end up at the nurse’s office when they faint during the Criminology Theory exam, forced to drink sugar water until the world stops exploding in a million tiny stars when they move their head.

Mello thinks that surviving their last winter exam session ever - they should be able to find a job with a double Master’s degree in Criminology and Creative writing, right ? - deserves a celebratory nap and they sprawl on the bed as soon as they’re back from the last stupid oral presentation they have to do about stupid Foundations of Criminal Justice. Near is not in the room - which is weird, because he finished five minutes and thirty six seconds before them - and Matt is away for the day to try and get his internship at the garage, so they have the full three-person bed, and they fully intend to enjoy the luxury.

They enjoy it so much that they fall asleep, only noticing that time has passed because before they blinked, it was day, and it is now very much nighttime. Light giggles fill the room along with the muted light from Near’s bedside lamp, and Mello takes the time to relish in the quiet atmosphere. Hushed conversation rises from near the desk, giggles and the smell of hot chocolate both making Mello sit up at last.

“Lookit you ! Sleeping beauty arises. Though I haven’t kissed you yet,” Matt smiles, and he climbs on the bed to press his lips against Mello’s. “Love you,” he whispers as he pulls away and goes back to slump on Near’s shoulder.

At first, Near felt like an intruder each time Matt kissed them, but he’s become so embedded in their life that Mello doesn’t feel any awkwardness anymore - to the point where not including him has become the cause of their inner turmoil.

Because yeah, uh, there’s that. Near in a tank top and booty shorts, prosthetic being painted on by a very enthusiastic Matt, has become the new image they conjure up each time the need to strangle someone arises. And poof, instant peace. Discreet touches, Near sleeping fully cuddled against their right side now, Matt nosing through Near’s hair just after he’s washed it because his strawberry shampoo smells divine, Mello even going as far as ruffling Near’s hair without warning, just to see his little nose scrunch up… All that has become routine too, and suddenly the change is too big to go by unmentioned. 

They’ve managed to hold on to their feelings until then but as Matt starts talking again, Near’s smile is a little too tight - though his eyes sparkle, it’s like… something’s missing. 

“Emergency mee-ee-ting,” they yawn, the skin around their left eye crinkling up painfully. Near notices and doesn’t even ask before grabbing the petroleum jelly tube and throwing it rather inaccurately at their face. See, that’s what they were talking about, Near has just become… there, in the way Matt is there even when he’s asleep in another part of the universe where Mello can only hope to ever go to. “We gotta talk shit out.”

“Are you over your gay crisis yet ?” Matt asks, eyes calm and open, sipping hot chocolate with noisy slurps that Mello doesn’t bother mentioning anymore. His green hair looks more and more red as time passes, which is a strange feat of hair dye conspiracy. “Can we go back to playing ?”

“I haven’t even talked !” Mello protests. “I just really think it’s necessary to mention that…”

They don’t know how to continue that sentence. Near is looking at them with something strangely akin to hope, and Matt still has that infuriating openness about him like he just knows Mello so well he doesn’t need to be told what they feel. 

Near doesn’t, though, and he matters enough to Mello now for them to want to include him in the little bubble as well.

“I just think it’d be cool if we shared the secret chocolate stash with Near,” is what comes out of their mouth.

Well done caporal, please die of shame now.

“Mels, wow, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said !” Matt’s voice drips with amusement - devoid of any mean spirit, they should add, because Matt is the one thing Mello knows is good in this world. And well, maybe there’s a second one they’ve stumbled on, and they want Near to know that he means a lot to them too.

“I mean it !” Mello whines. “He’s one of us now. I think we can share.”

“Mello. Please realise that I’ve been flirting with you this entire time,” comes Near’s deadpan answer. “The time I told you I wanted to braid your hair ? The time I made you sleep and finished the presentation alone because you’d gotten the flu and I hate being sneezed on ? The fact that Matt literally sits in my lap half the time, and only half because the other is spent on your lap ?”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off with me getting the flu.”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Near looks stubborn, and it’s a good look on him.

When did Mello start to think Near looks good ? “I, uh. I may be slightly romantically obtuse. Has Matt told you the time when-”

“-he kissed you and you thought he wanted to practice smooches for his secret best friend, because of course you wouldn’t be his best friend ?”

Utterly mortified, Mello can feel their cheeks become bright red. “Well, uh. Enough mushiness for tonight. Just pass me the chocolate, Matt, I’m starving.”

Matt giggles and throws a Kinder Egg at their face. Near munches on the leftover shell while Mello assembles the toy, and it’s peaceful - and happy, too, so when Mello raises a hand to their scar they smile still, in spite of their involuntary shiver.