#but god sometimes i really wish I could just fall in love like everyone else manages

[bittershins]

having a bit of a rough evening:

it's been feeling like more and more lately that I'm acting a part around most people I spend time with and I'm just feeling. verytired. Also i have so many hangups like good fucken god.

ANYWAYS farewell transmission is a beautiful song. in case anyone was wondering

[amandacanwrite]

More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition

Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole

Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87

Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.

Upon Your First Meeting

"I'm Usually better at this." "At Introductions?" "Hah...At magic."

Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.

The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.

But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS

And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.

"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."

He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.

"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"

Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit

"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends." "I may just be about to remedy that."

It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.

As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.

Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.

Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.

It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.

But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.

And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.

He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.

He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.

Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.

But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.

He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.

He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."

When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.

But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.

It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.

When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.

He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.

Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.

He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.

When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him

"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.

He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."

When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.

He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.

And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.

"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."

In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.

He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?

You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.

After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.

"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."

It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.

"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."

His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans

"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."

You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.

You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.

But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.

It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.

Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.

His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.

And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.

You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.

"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"

You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."

He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."

I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.

[crystcrm]

i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever

relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)

sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)

cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)

bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)

KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞

anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.

literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3

but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)

love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons

content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint

characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )

together with welt yang . . .

welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.

he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.

his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.

time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).

he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.

he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.

those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.

he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.

together with gepard landau . . .

gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.

you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.

bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.

gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.

it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.

never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.

dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.

gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.

[stardust-sunset]

Good morning friend I hope you’re having a good day so far! If you have any may I pls request either some Sodapop hcs or Curtis brother hurt/comfort hcs? It’s that kind of day for me 😔 I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️🎞️

aw, thanks!! I’d be more than happy to! 💛

Sodapop headcanons:

He’s absolutely terrified of bugs. He punched a hole in the wall because he saw a spider (Darry was livid)

He is not a picky eater at all. He will eat food that’s been dropped on the floor. He doesn’t give a shit.

Him and Steve steal snacks from the gas station all the time and just go into the back closet and gorge themselves

Soda is either a laughably awful singer or he has a beautiful voice. No in betweens

He walks around his house shirtless constantly like he’s gods giving gift (he kinda is but Pony and Darry get tired of it)

If you think he’s a bad cuddler when he’s awake just wait until he’s asleep. You’re not getting out of his grasp once he’s asleep. Don’t even try. You’re stuck in bed for the night.

He gets hella bloated after eating and he’s mortified by it

He’s loved the song Rockin’ Robin. I dunno why.

He loves listening to music because it helps him focus on smaller things but then he gets distracted

He hates that his eyes are brown and constantly wishes they were blue

He has ADHD

He never touches a drop of alcohol not because he’s scared or anything but because he despises the way it burns his throat

He’s undefeated in burping competitions aside from Johnny (he can be kinda gross ngl)

Sometimes in the midst of a crisis he’ll just drop an absolute pearl of wisdom and then wonders why everyone stares at him like he has two heads

He believes in ghosts and swears he saw his parents’ ghosts once

He’s a lot more affected by the death of his parents than he lets on

He has the fluffiest hair ever when it isn’t greased back. Him and Pony. Darry has courser hair

He’s a whiny bitch when he’s hungry and doesn’t shut up about how full he is when he’s eaten

He unironically says the corniest shit like “uh oh spaghettios’ and “i need to catch some z’s” and shit like that

He enjoys when Pony reads to him even though he doesn’t pay much attention which frustrates Pony a bit lmao

He prefers to cuddle with Pony over Darry because he says Darry’s chest is “too hard and muscular to be comfortable” which insulted both Pony and Darry to an extent

He is the best pillow in the world. He has the softest tummy you could ever imagine (also the loudest though unfortunately)

His insults are actually really creative and nobody expects it from him

He will put eat a steakhouse in a matter of minutes if you set him down and told him to go crazy

We all know he has a skincare routine (or he would if they could afford that shit)

Sometimes he feels like he’s the glue of the three brothers and if he takes a wrong step they’re all gonna fall apart

He gets a golden retriever when he’s moved out and definitely names it Pepsi-Cola or something

Hurt/Comfort:

You can absolutely tell when Pony is upset. He does NOT have. sooner face lmao

He prefers to be reassured by his brothers over anything else because it’s easier for him to gauge that they actually mean what they say

Boy is a stress eater-one time Darey came home and Pony had eaten an entire cake by himself and was absolutely miserable

He usually tends to gorge himself in meals but when he’s anxious it’s hella different

All three Curtis brothers are stress eaters ngl but Soda is by far the worst

Pony doesnt sleep when he’s anxious. He just sits there awake with his thoughts

He has VIOLENT panic attacks-if you try to touch him and you aren’t a member of the gang have fun with that broken nose of yours

He doesn’t mean it but he will scream at you to not touch him if you go to

Pony is a pretty crier but his panic attacks tend to get ugly

He tends to hit himself when he gets anxious too :( Darry has had to restrain him on more than one occasion because he was seriously scared Pony would hurt himself

The aftermath is a bunch of sniffles and hiccups. He doesn’t talk much before or after a panic attack and it takes effort to get him to open up bai ut what’s wrong

Absolutely will not cry in public. No matter of it’s late at night and he’s alone or not. He’s too scared someone will come by and he wants to look tuff

Darry will hold him while Soda massages his belly to ease his anxious tummy (or to help him digest the morbid amount of food he eats when stressed) and they’ll either address what’s wrong or they’ll distract Pony by talking about something they know he likes

Soda is the same way tbh but it’s because he thinks he shouldn’t be allowed to cry

You can always tell when Soda is upset because he doesn’t eat (canon in the book) and he’s also and normally quiet

He locks himself in his room when he’s upset because he doesn’t wanna burden Darry and he thinks because Pony os his little brother he isn’t allowed to be comforted by him

He had many breakdowns over Sandy and lashed out a lot after because he really loved her and he was furious with her and himself

He kind of shuts down and will just stare ahead at nothing when he’s upset and it’s more unsettling because he’s not moving. He’s not playing with his fingers or bouncing his leg. He just looks completely out of it as he sits still

He gets headaches a lot when he’s anxious and will usually turn in early and that’s even more unusual since he’s a night owl and usually restless at night

But all it takes is a hug and he breaks down completely

Darry came home from work once and literally just hugged Soda as a greeting and Soda started bawling into his chest

He mumbles a lot when he cries too, it’s kinda sad

It doesn’t take long to calm him down-a cuddle session from his brothers is all he needs before he’s satisfied again

As soon as he’s done crying he’s just like “can we have dinner now”

Darry is really stoic when he’s upset

You can always tell because his eyes get a lot colder and harder when something is bothering him

He always denies anything being wrong because he’s supposed to be strong and stable but Pony and Soda constantly asking him gets him to explode

Hes just like “YOU WANNA KNOW WHATS WRONG?!” and then goes into a rant about everything that happened

Pony and Soda just learned to listen because Darry doesn’t exactly want reassurance all the time, he just wants to vent

He paces a lot when he’s ranting too and uses his hands an awful lot to talk

If something is REALLY bad they can kinda tell he may need a good cry because his voice constantly cracks and he swallows a lot more and small thing like that

Pony and Soda work with him post book to just have a good cry every once in a while because it doesn’t mean he’s any less than, it just means he needs to let it out sometimes

Soda always gives him back rubs after because the tension from the anxiety gets to him. Pony just talks to him because Pony has a way with words

All three of them enjoy cuddling though and when one is upset, the other two are absolutely making a cuddle puddle where the anxious one is in the middle and the other two just hold onto the person in the middle

WOOF-that was longer than I meant haha/I hope these are good!

[writerscall]

i cannot be your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost. and what it cost now that we don't talk.

because pushing her away was easier than having to stomach seeing her be with someone else.

author's note/s: 1k words. this is part one of a series. close friends to sad strangers to surprise college roommates is a trope, right?

Ignoring Hazel for the rest of the year wasn’t an easy decision or any easy thing to do. You two weren’t attached at the hip but you were such good friends that even the people who didn’t really talk to either of you eventually asked if you two had a falling out. We’re both just pretty busy at this time of senior year, you’d tell them; you had no idea what Hazel’s answer was to that, and you didn’t wanna know. It hurt you to ice her out but after what happened at the game, you just couldn’t be around her. Not when it was clear that PJ was in the picture like that.

Really, you should’ve been happy for her. You were one of the first people she came out to and even though she never explicitly said it, you knew she wanted to experience one relationship, or even a sort of fling, before high school ended. But your wishful thinking that it could’ve been the two of you in the end like some cliche really was just that — wishful thinking. That kiss and the way she and PJ acted around each other after said it all.

So you blocked it all out. Joined some clubs to fill up your schedule and actually make you as busy as you said you were, focused on academics like never before, got closer to other friends (for obvious reasons but also, why the hell not? It was senior year and you might not see some of them again). Overall, there were pros to what you decided to do about your crush on Hazel Callahan. You were making the most out of a sucky situation.

What you weren’t proud of was deciding to go out with the baseball team’s captain on a whim, and then agreeing to really date him after. He was nice and was a pretty good boyfriend, but you weren’t as into him as he was into you. But that was the least of your concerns throughout that relationship that inevitably came to an end as graduation neared.

You’ll never forget the complicated look on her face the day he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek at your locker. You’ll never forget the ‘Can we talk now? Please?’ text she sent that night, her last attempt at reaching out before she took to ignoring you too.

And that was it. Hazel wasn’t part of your senior year until its end and you assumed it would be the same for the rest of your life, or at least for a long, long time.

But the universe just loved playing cruel tricks sometimes.

“Okay, you’re sure you’ve got everything? Those new notebooks, your writing materials, enough bras and pa—”

“Okay, mom!” You cut her off with a nervous laugh, silently thanking god that your roommate and whoever was helping her move in hadn’t arrived yet. “I’ve got it all, I promise. It’s okay for you to go now.”

Your mother sighs as she reaches out to give your arm a squeeze, and after a few more pointers for your first day and about five ‘you can always give us a call for anything’ reminders, you were alone. You smile to yourself as you look at your fixed up side of the dorm, jittery in a good sense. Everyone said college was different from high school in the best way and you were determined to make it so. Even though you knew how much busier and hectic life would get with university level academics.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door open. It’s only when that painfully familiar voice says your name that you snap out of it.

Hazel Callahan, practically the same as ever, standing in the doorway with her luggages and a duffel bag across her body. She manages a smile, small and hesitant. To your surprise, all you can say is, “You’re my roommate?”

Her face twitches in disappointment, smile faltering noticeably. You didn’t mean for that to come off the way it clearly did but the question escaped you before you could think. Of all the people in the world — or even just of all the people in high school, it just had to be her? You were over Hazel. You’d tried so hard and honestly haven’t thought about her much at all since graduation.

Only for all that effort to feel like it was undone within seconds. Fantastic.

“Trust me, I… I didn’t know this would be the arrangement. My mom’s got an old friend here who could probably do a room switch for one of us — I mean, for me I guess, you’ve already got your side of the room fixed up while I’m still all packed, so—”

You put a hand up to stop her. “Hazel, it’s fine. We can share this room. All that stuff from…” You let the sentence trail off and clear your throat. “I mean, it doesn’t matter anymore, it never really has.”

Though expecting her to brighten even slightly at your attempt at an olive branch, her expression stays the same. Complicated actually, like the one she had upon seeing you and your (short-lived) senior year boyfriend for the first time in school. You try not to think about it.

“Anyway, I’ve got some things to go check with the registrar’s office, so I’ll get out of your hair so you can unpack and all that.” There was nothing to check with at the registrar’s office, but you needed to find some place that wasn’t your dorm to pull yourself together. Or maybe scream.

There’s a look of understanding on her face but shakes her head at you. “You wouldn’t be in the way. We could use this time to catch up. It’s been a long while, you know?”

Well, you certainly weren’t ready for that, so you just say something about wanting to get to the office while it wasn’t too busy yet. You cast her a side glance with a smile that you really hoped didn’t look forced or fake as you watch her bring in her things, then make a beeline for the door. 

But you stop when she asks, “Hey, um, maybe we can sit with each other at the orientation tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah, sure.” And you knew that didn’t sound forced or fake with the way Hazel almost grins at you.

Yeah, you really needed to find a place to scream somewhere on campus.

[stuckysbike]

Kiss Me Once In The Moonlight

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, unrequited?feelings. Fluff.

Summary: You’ve fallen in love, but he wants someone else.

It was a cold mid October Saturday night when you realised you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

Natasha had ushered you out of your solitude and over to her private apartment on the compound. Steve was already there, along with Sam, Joaquin, Yelana, a few from the medical team and a few mechanics.

The place was decorated for spooky season, with playful ghosts and fuzzy spiders hiding in the corners. Everyone got comfortable and music played in the background whilst you snacked on nuts and candied apples and sipped beer. Halloween meets Octoberfest was the theme.

Bucky had been telling a story, his face lit up and his big hands flying everywhere as he described his mom chasing him with a broom during his teenage years after a Halloween fright. Occasionally his eyes met yours and they sparkled, but you figured he was like that with everyone.

You’d been crushing on him since you arrived in January and he was first to greet you. He seemed fascinated by your job, research and data analyst, but it was ultimately boring to almost everyone but you.

You lunched together sometimes and you swapped books every few weeks. You even got him into podcasts and you were always swapping recommendations.

But tonight he looked happy, relaxed even, and when Natasha dropped her dainty feet into his lap you felt the world skip underneath you, you wanted to put your feet in his lap. You wanted his big hands dwarfing your feet.

He rubbed her toes without thinking, and she snuggled down as the mechanics started describing the prank they’d played on Tony this week, going so far as to rope Pepper in.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” You heard Natasha murmur to Bucky during a lull in conversation. Sam was changing the music and Joaquin was setting up tequila shots.

He smiled at her but shook his head. “Nah,” his voice was thick with tiredness.

“You finally made a move on that girl?” She teased wiggling in her spot.

Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink and you dropped your eyes when you realised you were staring. You didn’t want to be caught looking like some dumb kid.

It was foolish to think that Bucky with his wonderful abilities and handsome looks would be interested in you who spent most of your time at work or alone.

“Think I’m gonna’ take her out, yeah,” he nodded. You snuck a glance at him in time to catch him looking from you to Natasha.

Oh god, he must have noticed you staring. How embarrassing!

Tears that had no right to form stung your eyes and you stood suddenly distracting Steve who was kneeling at the coffee table next to you. Sam took the opportunity to defeat him in their thumb war game much to Steve’s annoyance.

“I’m going to head back, I’m just really tired,” you said to the room, avoiding Bucky. “Thank you for the invitation Natasha.”

There were a few comments asking you to stay but ultimately everyone wished you a good sleep. Your own room was a fifteen minute walk away in a shared block and you pulled your arms around yourself to fight the cold as you stepped outside.

“Hey Doll,” Bucky called startling you.

“Bucky, hi,” you frowned.

“Thought I’d walk you back,” he said falling into step with you. “And I wanted your advice.”

“Oh?”

“So there’s this girl I like. She’s not like the others, she’s not really - she’s different. And I really want to make a date special for her, you know?” He glanced as you, letting his arm bump yours as you walked.

“I do,” you sighed resigning yourself to your fate. You didn’t want to have this conversation but you didn’t want to not help him either. He was your friend after all.

“So I’ve had a few first date ideas, I’m thinking farmers market then making brunch together? I started this really great podcast and I was thinking we could listen together as we cook then talk about it while we eat? Then after we could go to a museum or something?” Bucky licked his lips and stopped looking at you.

You didn’t want him to share a podcast with her. That was your thing with him. You knew you were being unfair, childish even but right now you didn’t care.

“That sounds lovely,” you said. And it did, you wished you were that girl, you wished Bucky wanted to go to all that trouble for you but instead you’d have to sit home alone tomorrow whilst he woo’d someone else.

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. “I really just wanna’ hold her hand, at the market, in the museum, I just crave that feeling you know, like this,” Bucky reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, holding your joined hands up to inspect. “It’s been a long time since I held a girls hand like this.”

“I-I’m sure it has Buck,” you swallowed. He resumed walking and you could do nothing but join him, he still had your hand in his. He described his outfit for his date and wondered if you had a cosy chunky sweater.

“I do, it’s so comfortable,” you said softly. You couldn’t hide the disappointment as you slowed in front of the doors. “It’s my favourite colour too.”

“Will you wear it tomorrow?” Bucky tilted his head to the side.

“Why does it matter what I wear?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his odd request. You couldn’t though, thinking of him with someone else whilst you wore what he asked you to.

“I want to know that you’re warm tomorrow. You know, on our date?” Bucky pressed his cool left hand on your cheek as he turned to face you. His kiss was soft, just a sweet brush of the lips and then he pulled away. “I’ll see you at nine thirty?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded dumbly. He kissed you again, and you caught the faint taste of whiskey on his lips. He was warm as he pressed into you and you let your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders.

“See you tomorrow baby girl,” he pressed one last kiss to your forehead then opened the building door for you.

You walked inside in a daze, waving goodbye and drifting up the stairs like you weighed nothing.

You couldn’t remember getting changed into your pj’s, all you knew was that you were snuggled under your duvet setting an alarm for your date with Bucky in the morning.

You smiled, and suddenly your legs kicked and you let out a little squeal. You were going out with Bucky Barnes and he kissed you three times.

You feel asleep to the memory of one hot hand and one cold hand cupping your cheeks as he kissed you in the moonlight.

[peachyloveswriting]

I really enjoy how you write Knives and Vash. I enjoyed the one with the sick reader so much.

If by chance could you do something with reader who has bad anxiety and panic attacks?

Maybe for Knives the reader is already feeling down because they are not allowed outside (sorta like seasonal depression I guess) and they feel of no use to him.

For Vash maybe something about how he says he wishes the reader wouldn't follow him and the group to Wolfwood or one of the others and they over hear him. He just wants them safe of course. They feel useless even though they have been able to keep safe so far. Feeling unwanted sends them into a panic.

Lately I have been pretty down and my anxiety about the smallest things have sent me into a panic.

Much love <3

I'm really glad that you've enjoyed my work so far and I hope you feel better soon. For now let me do some comfort and fluff. I'm in the mood right now. Also I've noticed that I sometimes accidentally write in first person so if I switch up on you guys I'm sorry Lmao.

Miscommunication and Self doubt --- Vash & Knives

SUMMARY: It doesn't take a lot to make someone feel worthless, maybe people should pay more attention to what they do.

Millions Knives

Artificial light, the only light that fills every room I've been in for the past four months. When was the last time I felt the suns on my skin, I had a fresh breath of air? God I have no clue. Ever since Knives took me in I've been stuck inside this tower with no hope of ever seeing the outside again. Just to make matters worse I get to watch everyone else do something useful while I sit and hope for a day that will never come. It fills my heart with dread every time I think about it.

I have no special duty, I don't run errands, I don't do chores. I sit and I act as a wall piece all day everyday. I stand by Knives side, accompanying him wherever he wants me too. Watching him play his piano, I feel particularly let down today.

Between the solemn notes and my aching heart, I don't know which was the straw that broke the Camels back, but I fell to my knees. Tears slid down my face and ragged breaths left my mouth, I sobbed, covering my eyes with my hands. Suddenly the melodious tune stopped making its way into my head and someone grabbed my shoulders.

"Petal?" Knives shook me with worry, he's checking me over for the source of my crying, but no injury is visible. "What's wrong?" He pulls my hands away from my face and cups my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. "Speak to me." His hands are gentle as ever, it's almost hard to believe that he's actually touching me.

"What's my point?" I choke out. "What's the point of me being here when I do nothing for you?" I pull away from his touch, another wretched sob falling from my lips. His face softens as his hands fall back to his sides. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

Through my teary eyes I can see his blades slithering out from behind him, coming right for me. My heart sinks and I feel sick, he was actually taking my advice. This wasn't really the way I wanted it to happen but it was death, the sweet release. Closing my eyes, I patiently wait to feel him cut through me, to tear me apart and never wake me up again. Instead, I feel the blades carefully wrap around my back, pushing me forward.

Opening my eyes, Knives grabs my shoulders once within reach and pulls me against him in a hug. His blades slip off my back but stay close, I can't tell if he's actually debating on killing me or if he's just trying to keep me in place. Against him, I sob. It's hysterical at this point, I'm so lost. He has no reason to keep me here so why am I still here?

"Why?" I have no special purpose for him. "Why am I here?"

One of his hands rubs my back while the other holds the back on my head close to him, he's holding me so gently. I feel like he's scared of hurting me, but why? I serve no purpose to him. Even still, he lets me cry into his shoulder, and even rubs my back in an attempt to comfort me. It's almost like he really does care.

"You're here because I want you to be. I enjoy your company and... You're very interesting to me." He pulls away. "but I don't understand what makes you think I'd kill you. I clearly have a reason not to."

He moves his thumb to swipe away my tears. "I'm sorry it's just... I've been stuck in here for so long I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't... I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I don't even do anything, I want to do something. I don't want to feel useless."

He leans closer. "I can assure you that you are not useless, you offer me entertainment, company, knowledge, and more. My want is for you to be comfortable, if you are not, I have failed. If you wish to leave I will escort you out?" His offer is kind, I'm taken aback by it. Seeing the way he usually treats things, this was not at all what I expected.

I shake my head. "I do want to leave but not like that! I just want to go outside..." I lift my hand to wipe the wetness from my eyes. "I don't wish to burden you, Knives."

He sighs. "Yet again, you're not a burden." Letting me go completely, his blades retract and he stands. "Come with me." He extends a hand to me. "I shall take you outside."

Taking a deep breath I grab his hand and pull myself up. "Thank you." He doesn't say anything in return, quietly leading me towards his room. Walking through the door I'm greeted by a large bed, I was sure he had never used it. It was untouched, sheets laid without a single wrinkle at all. It was like he'd never even touched it. He pulled me forward towards the large sheath of curtains, brushing them to the side. Bright sunlight fills the room and he pulls open a sliding door, turning to the side he gently tugs me forward. I can already feel the breeze hitting my skin before I ever step out. It feels reliving to feel the wind blowing in my face again.

Stepping out onto the small balcony, I press my hands against the rail and close my eyes. Behind me I can hear the door shut and Knives approaching. The air smells clean and the sun is purifying. I could relish in this moment forever, it makes it even harder to believe I'll have to go back in, I don't want too. I'd rather stay out here where I can feel myself at peace with the world, where the wind blows all my worries away.

"Feel better?" I open my eyes to see Knives leaned on the balcony rail beside me, resting his face in his hand. The corners of his lipa twitch up into a ghostly smile, almost non-existent.

"Much." I adjust my gaze to the city below. "Good. I'll be sure to accommodate you more often. I had never thought to ask how you were doing or what you might have needed."

I take a deep breath. "Thank you, Knives."

He stands up straight. "It's good to see you smile again." At the mention I could suddenly feel the smile on my lips, I hadn't noticed it before. "That's what you'll do for me..."

I look at him confused. "If you want to feel of use to me, smile more. It looks good on you."

Vash

"I'm going to sleep. Good night." You waved everyone goodbye before you claimed into your tent. The outside was illuminated by the flickering fire, Meryl and Roberto had already gone to sleep. It was only Vash and Wolfwood left after you. For a long time it was quiet, sleep was beginning to creep in and you were comfortable. That's when you Heard it.

"Why did they have to stick around?" Vash pokes at the fire with a stick. Wolfwood looks up at him in wonder "Huh? You mean Y/n?"

"Yeah... I just wish they wouldn't stick around." You don't get to hear him finish the sentence, you cover your ears and dig your face into the pillow. Something in your chest aches deeply, the thought of leaving the group after becoming so close to everyone hurts. To think the best out of all of them wanted you gone hurt the most, you didn't do anything to make him hate you. Was it that you didn't contribute? Everyone played their part but you... You were just there.

You don't do anything but cook and help set up camp for the night, it's not much at all compared to what everyone else does. Meryl's got a job with Roberto, Wolfwood is trying to keep you all from dying, and Vash.... He was looking for his brother, trying to save the world. That's more than you could ever do for the group, you bring them down. You get in the way of everyone's objectives, you don't contribute, what's worse than dead weight?

When you uncovered your ears, it was eerily quiet outside, the fire wasn't crackling anymore and Vash and Wolfwood had grown quiet. Heart heavy in your chest, you moved your blanket off of you and climbed to the entrance of your tent. Peeling it back you stick your head outside, the fire is almost out, Vash and the others are nowhere to be seen. You assume they've gone to sleep. Crawling out, you wrap your blanket around your shoulders and walk over to the truck.

The wind nips at your exposed skin as you reach up and grab your bag from the top, it slips from your hands and falls heavily on your foot. Your mouth shoots open to call out in pain but you hiss through clenched teeth instead. After hopping about, you pick the bag up and sling it over your shoulder, stopping to look and back sure you haven't woken anyone up. The silence gives you an answer, you pad back to your tent, quickly undoing it to pack it away in your bag. It fits snugly with all your other items as you tie it back. With everything ready, you tie the blanket securely around you as a coat and begin to walk away from the camp site.

The air is cold and lonely as you venture into the desolate night, from afar strange creatures call out, sending chills through your body. While running with the group, you fared well, managing to keep out of trouble. Alone, you weren't sure you were going to make it. Looking back at the tents, you realize they're much smaller than before. It would be pointless to turn back now, it hurts to leave like this but if Vash didn't want you there you were willing to leave. Albeit bringing you to tears in the process.

For the next day into the night, you traveled alone, not a soul in sight. The heat from the suns has just worn off and the cool nights air breezes past. You haven't stopped since you started, your legs burn with intensity, and your eyes threaten to close. It would be unwise to camp in the middle of the dunes, you searched for a rock face to settle down against but there were none in sight. You realize now that your choice to leave so suddenly without thinking it through wasn't a good idea, you couldn't go back now, they'd certainly have moved on by now. You'd just have to get by until the next town.

Suddenly, from behind you begin to hear shouting. It sounds like your name from somewhere out in the distance, certainly you had to be going crazy. Then it came again, closer this time. You turn to see what's calling out for you, running up on a Thomas, Is Vash.

"Vash?" Your eyes widen in surprise as he jumps off the Thomas, throwing you into the sand, hugging you.

"I was so worried. You scared me. I followed your footsteps for two days!" He pulled back with a smile on his face. Just before he was saying he didn't want you around, now he's acting like he misses you.

"You wanted me to stop following you." His smile falls. "So I left."

His heart falls to his stomach. "What do you mean?"

You blink at him. "You said you didn't want me to follow you around anymore. I overheard when you told Wolfwood."

Vash sits up, pulling you with. "I could see why you wouldn't want me around anymore, I don't do a whole lot..." He frowns, keeping your hand in his. "That's not why I said it." He tips your head up to look at him. "I said it because I'm dangerous. If you stay around me long enough you'll get killed."

I stare at him in silence for a moment. "What bout the others?"

He nods. "Them too. But Wolfwood and Roberto know how to keep themselves alive. You and Meryl... She only has a chance because of Robertoz but you." Vash sighs. Tears start to burn your eyes as you look at him. "Me... I'm worthless." It comes out as a broken sob, one that you can't stop from escaping.

Slumping forward, your head collides with Vash's shoulder. Shaking and sputtering, you sob against him, his hands rushing to soothe your shaking body. He engulfs you in a hug, hands rubbing your back and brushing your head. "Don't say that. You do an amazing job of staying out of trouble and you're an even better addition to the team. But I'm scared you might get hurt one day." His hot breath tickles your skin as he talks. "I want to keep you safe."

White hot anger rushes over you, you raise your head. "Then do that! Don't just send me away and expect that to be even better, it's worse! If you want me to be safe then show me how to use a gun."

His eyes are wide with surprise. You've never yelled at Vash like that, it hurt seeing you so angry. "If that's what you want, I'll do it."

You nod your head. "Yes. Anything to help, please."

"Of course. Let's get back to the others though, you need to eat and get water before you pass out. Sit in front of me so you can rest for a bit too." He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. "I'm really sorry I made you feel this way." He adverts his gaze as he leads you to the Thomas. "I had no idea you could hear me, it was nothing but the best intentions, I swear."

Vash helps you climb onto the Thomas first before grabbing reigns and hoisting himself up behind you. "I know. It still hurts though."

His face softens. "It won't happen again. I swear. Just stick by my side and you'll be safe."

[shhh-secret-time]

The soulmate AU fic’s are so cute 🥹🥹 I’m so incredibly in love with your writing! The Stan fic made me giggle so much 💙💙 HE IS PERFECT

I’d love to request one for Kenny if you’re not totally sick of the soulmate stuff 😂🩷

Anon. I need you to listen to me carefully. I will never, ever, be tired of soulmate stuff.

In fact, that's it. You're getting the softest Kenny fic of your life! Maybe

Warning: Body Horror, Blood, Injury, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Anxiety, a bit of depression. Violence.

Pairing: Kenny x GN!Reader

One of your favorite lessons growing up was the time your class learned about plants. You and your fellow classmates all sat at your desk with a little pot of soil to call your own. It didn't mean much to you at first, but as the class went on and the teacher her lesson it began to sink in.

This was life.

You remember going starry eyed as she pressed the smallest little seed into the dirt and poured a little water onto it. This woman had introduced you to something so simple yet so beautiful. How a little sunlight and a little bit of water could grow into something so gorgeous. So, you dedicated the next few months to that little seed. Staying awake late at night whispering secrets to it like an old friend, making sure it was nice and watered.

Needless to say, you cried when your little plant didn't sprout as quickly as everyone else's. You didn't understand what you were doing wrong. Your teacher tried to reassure you that you were doing fine.

Your name falls from her lips as she helps you wipe the tears from your eyes. "You're not doing anything wrong. Plants can be complicated. Some take a little longer than others but there's nothing wrong with them or with what you're doing!"

At the time she was talking about the plant, but as you got older the words stuck with you. And maybe she really was just talking about the little seed, but as you got older it got harder to not apply it to people.

You watched as people took to their own colors, growing and being shaped by the world around you. Some grew thorns, others grew branches. Most planted their roots, souls intertwined with the small town of South Park.

So why did it feel like you were the only one still in the ground, barely sprouting?

You're not doing anything wrong.

God, you wish you could believe her.

But it was hard when you were so overwhelmed with comparing yourself to the others. You weren't athletic like Stan or Red. You weren't top of your class like Kyle or Wendy. You didn't have the charm of Jimmy or Nichole. No, you were just you. What was special about you?

Kenny McCormick could. The blond could write a book on all the things that made you special. Pages filled with how kind you were, how you lit up every room you walked in even if you didn't realize it. If he was a smarter man, he'd probably find a way to compare you to some sunrise. Something beautiful!

Instead, all he can come up with is a dandelion. You may not be the most exotic plant in a flowerbed, but you were beautiful. Like dandelions you were everywhere to him. Under the gentle rays of the sun, pushing through the cracks of the sidewalk; brightening up his day. He saw you on the side of the road waving to him with a gentle sway, yellow petals beckoning him over. He saw the way you stretched up and up past the others eventually changing to those puffy little white balls.

But he's not a smart man, and on top of that he had a reputation. Kenny loved people, he loved that people loved. He loved his three asshole friends; he loved them more than they deserved. He loved his sister, the best thing to ever come from his parents, and that included him. Sometimes that love came out a little too much, he just had so much of it to give. Because like you, Kenny never really felt like he was good enough.

In a world of soulmates, love was hard. If Kenny caught ink on skin that seemed to change, or paragraphs of words on people's arms, he knew that his love would just be temporary for them. He often wondered if you had anything like that. Maybe a tattoo somewhere on your body that would indicate who your soul was bound to. The thought would keep him up at night because no matter how many times he checked; Kenny never saw ink. Never saw pictures or words with someone's thoughts. Stan and Kyle always were the lucky ones.

Lucky people don't lie in a dirty alley with their sides split open. Lucky people don't have to clench their sides to try to stop their blood from slipping out of them.

How could he be so careless? He'd done this song and dance for years now, ever since he was old enough to throw a fist and really make it hurt. Some nights it felt like this was the only thing he was good at, taking a hit and getting back up. Kenny McCormick was the world's punching bag.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and God it felt so good. To just let his eyes rest for a moment, he's been running on Monday's sleep, and it was fucking Wednesday. A small part of him thought about just letting sleep take him, how would it be different than his room?

Oh, but Karen.

And those guys trying to mug that poor woman, yeah, they were still a thing.

Kenn- no Mysterion pulls himself to his feet, the long purple cape hides his shaky legs. Yeah, Kenny might be the world's punching bag, but Mysterion fucking hits back. The dark purple gloves, now stained with a dark red, press into the wound trying to staunch the flow. His vision was getting dizzy, but he wasn't seeing black yet. He still had time before he'd wake up in bed again. Just enough time to break a few bones.

Meanwhile across town you sat in the living room of your small apartment, whatever YouTube video playing in the background. A nice little book rests in your hand, it was a quiet night for you. Most of them were as your apartment was just you and your little cat, the chunky little lady rest by your feet happily purring, just content to be around you. Well, you, your cat, and your plants. Right beside you were pots filled with various plants you'd grown over the years. From seasonal flowers to three different shaped bonsai trees, to various colored succulents, and finally your favorite Orchid. The beautiful purple flower had bloomed recently, and it was your pride and joy.

Everything was perfect, no stress about having to be better than you are. No deadlines or classes that made you feel dumb. No obligation to socialize and try to entertain people you didn't exactly call friend. That is until the sharp pain in your side made you scream out. Your cat jumping away from you and cowering on the other side of the couch, she looks terrified.

Right along your side, just below your rib, felt like it was being ripped apart. Like someone was taking their nails and pulling your skin apart. You lift your shirt and stare down in horror, as bright red spider lilies sprout from your skin. Thick green stalks wrap around each other and soon the crimson petals sprout out, it would be gorgeous if it wasn't in your skin. You feel like you're about to pass out, the sudden act was enough to make your body start shaking.

"W-What the- what the hell?!" You want to scream, want to cry out but all that comes out is a hushed whisper.

Luckily the pain stopped as soon as the flower finished blooming, the pain dulled down to a low buzzing around your skin. Your hands were shaking as your fingertips traced the flowers, unable to comprehend what was really happening. You blink, and then you blink again and again. They're still there and the velvet petals under your fingers were real.

Impulsively you moved the flowers apart until you found the base of the stem, there you saw how your skin meld together perfectly with the plant. It was like they were always a part of it. With a deep breath you grab the plant by the stem and pull. The pain it shoots through your body is unlike anything you've ever felt before, but it offers no resistance as it comes out of your body.

You squeeze your eyes expecting blood or at least a wound, but you don't feel your skin rip open. Instead, it feels like something has slipped from your skin, like pulling string through a closed fist. Through heavy breathing you open your eyes, and you felt your heart start to settle, the beautiful flowers were now tightly clenched in your fist roots and all. On closer inspection they had little drops of water on the petals as if they had just been watered. It was only then you realized you had been crying.

You couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, tossing and turning as your hand kept coming up to your sides. The area was numb, it didn't hurt but you couldn't get the image out of your head. It made your skin crawl and the shiver down your spine felt sharp, sharp enough to make your back arch. As the morning sun greeted you letting you know it was time to get up and start the day, the first thing to greet you were the spider lilies sitting next to you. You don't know why you didn't just throw them away, get rid of them and never think about it again, but they really did look so beautiful.

Now they were sitting on your nightstand next to the window, dancing back and forth as the little draft that entered your apartment led them in a waltz. As you pull back the blankets and your feet hit the cold floor of your apartment, your fists clench around the blankets as you stare down in horror.

Your knuckles were covered in poppies, little sprouts pushing in between the dips of your fingers. On your right hand they were much larger blooms and more prominent on the knuckle itself. You hiss at the way it parts your skin, much less clean than the spider lilies were. The poppies wiggle a bit making room as another one pushes up and breaks your skin. This time there is a little blood, not more than a paper cut would give you but still it was alarming.

Rushing to your bathroom you run your hand under the water, the fast-running water slamming down on the little red petals. Another red flower. Another flower meaning pain or death. You're much more careful this time, gently plucking the poppies up from your skin and placing them to the side on the wet counter. They come up just like flowers last night, with ease and when you inspect your knuckles there's nothing as if it was never there.

"Guess I'll get a pot for you guys..." You mutter to the flowers, rubbing your hand over your knuckles.

There was a part of you that thought about emailing your professor as to why you wouldn't be coming to class, but what would you even say?

Good morning Professor,

I won't be able to attend class today, I am not feeling well, and I was wondering if I could get the notes for today's class from you. I sincerely apologize and hope that I will recover soon.

Good morning Professor,

I won't be attending class today as I had a family emergency come up! I hope you understand, and I will be in class when everything settles down.

Hey Professor,

I've got fucking flowers growing out of my fucking skin! You know anything about that?!

You let out a loud groan and lean forward on your desk, pushing your laptop to the side. Your sweet little roommate jumps up and meows at you in response, she nudges her head against yours and puts her paw on your cheek. A small attempt to make you feel better, she's trying. When you don't move, she meows again only louder this time, her head smacking into yours.

"Ow! Okay! I know I can't just sit here all day." She looks at you when you lean up and snap back.

She sits all prim and proper as you get up from your seat, she watches as you pace around the room and gather everything you need for the day. When she meows again you stop and look back at her, conversations with your cat weren't uncommon some days it felt like she was the only one you could really talk to. It was sad but it was better than spending nights alone talking to your plants.

"Look, I've got to go. I'm paying for the stupid classes I might as well just go. I just have to hope that whatever happened last night, doesn't happen again!" You grab your coat and throw it over your arm, giving her one last look. "Maybe I can talk to someone there? Maybe someone knows what this is, until then you're in charge of the house! No eating the plants while I'm gone!"

When she doesn't meow back at you, you narrow your eyes at her in suspicion. "I'm serious!" She jumps off your desk and walks over to the couch where she rolls on her back. Not a care in the world.

Curse that cat and her adorable behavior. You've got no choice but to trust that she'll behave. On your way out you grab your keys and make your way down the steps of your little home. Days where it was nice and sunny out made you happy you live so close to your college campus, other days it was a drag to get out of bed.

The rest of the day went by quietly, just how you like it. You couldn't help but fidget in your seat out of fear of spontaneous flower growth. What if a really large plant came out of your back while you were sitting in front of someone? If it was like the spider lilies last night, you'd most definitely scream out in pain and that would be embarrassing. Once class let out you were the first one out of your seat, practically bolting to the door.

This was getting to be too much, you had to find someone to talk to about this. The anxiety of when it would happen again was overwhelming. As you pass the little library you stop and check the inside, maybe you didn't have to talk to anyone about this. Maybe it would be in a book or at the very least you could try googling it.

As you walk into the quiet little domain you spot a few other students standing around talking to one another. Some sitting by the common tables, others tapping away on the public computers. Just as you're about to make a beeline for one of the computers tucked away in the corner, a soft voice stops you almost making you leap out of your skin.

"Hey, are you okay? Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" The voice was so gentle and soft, you turned to see Heidi Turner smiling at you.

Heidi Turner was one of the sweetest people in the school, she went through leaps and bounds to be a better person after high school. Most days she keeps herself either in the library offering to tutor other students, or volunteering around town in various ways. She was always kind to you, and you always wanted to call her a friend but something stopped you. Even though she was a sweet girl, that fear of bothering her was still there.

"Oh um...it's okay! Really, I was just uh...going to use one of the computers. Is that okay? Am I allowed?" God, you want to find a hole to crawl into and just die.

"Of course you can! I was actually coming over to see if I could help you find something, but it looks like you've got it all figured out!" She beams up at you with a little giggle.

You think for a moment, if you had to tell anyone about the situation you were in Heidi was a good person to tell. She wouldn't go around telling other people and it wasn't like you had anyone else to really confide in. So, you take a deep breath and go to stop her from walking away. "Ac-Actually Heidi, um could you help me with something? Real quick."

Heidi stops and turns back to you; she cocks her head when she sees the nervous look in your eyes. Now she looks worried, not scared you think but concerned. She walks closer to you and gestures for you to follow her towards the computer, when the two of you are far enough away from the other students she whispers.

"I had a feeling you were looking for a friend, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

A friend? She thought you guys were friends? That alone was enough to make you relax a little and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You rub your arms a little and look behind you before responding.

"I'm really freaked out Heidi and I don't know how to talk about it."

"Hey, it's okay. Take it slow, I'm right here. Is someone hurting you?"

Your eyes widen at that, and you quickly shake your head at her. "What? O-Oh no no! It's not someone it's- well it's something?" When she looks at you confused, you groan and shake your head. "I mean something happened last night and it's really freaking me out!"

You tell her the events that transpired last night, avoiding the gruesome details as to not freak her out. You expect her to call you crazy or to laugh in your face, but she doesn't.

No, instead she stands there and nods along with you. Even offering her hand to you to take when you start to tear up, the fear of it happening again came crashing down mid-story. She offers you a gentle smile, rubbing your back as you try to calm down.

"It sounds like a soulmate thing." You rub your eyes at her as she speaks, trying to get the tears spilling from your eyes out.

"A... soulmate thing? But why now, and why this?"

"It takes some people a little longer before their soulmate signs trigger. I run a support group for people who run into theirs a little late, or for people who don't have any at all." Heidi says it as if it's the most normal thing in the world to her.

You stare at her in awe for a little while, clinging on to every word with such desperation. She was like an angel, a guardian angel telling you there was nothing to worry about and that this was normal.

"As for why your trigger is this...I don't know. Triggers manifest differently for each person, there's a lot of studies on soulmates. I'm sure someone at the school is much smarter than I could tell you." She pauses for a moment and her eyes light up with excitement. "But hey! This means you've got a soulmate, I'm just sorry it's so painful for you!"

On the other side of the library Kenny was lying on one of the little bean bags chairs the school threw in for comfort. Tucked away in some corner, his plan was to take a little nap in. Somewhere where he knew his friends wouldn't come looking for him, well Kyle might but he'd never thought to find Kenny here. But when you walked in with that look of panic on your face he sat right up, like he had just gotten a full eight hours of sleep.

Why did you look so terrified? What was going on? Did you need someone? You were looking around the library like you were being followed.

These thoughts began pounding at the front of his mind and just as he was about to stand up and walk over to you, Heidi beat him to it. He couldn't make out everything you were saying, but from the way you whispered to the smaller brunette it sounded serious. His lavender eyes follow you into the other corner of the library, the one right across from him.

He should look away; he should mind his own business and try to shut out your conversation. But he can't help it, he knows it's rude, but he can't get the image of your scared face out of his head. So, he closes his eyes and tries to hone in on your conversation with Heidi. It takes everything in his power not to get lost in the way you speak; your voice was so soothing. Kenny imagined it was what honey melting in tea would sound like if it had a voice.

That's when the topic of soulmates came up. He jolts up again and his eyes widen over at you as you describe the flowers sprouting from your skin. The hands resting in his orange patchy parka shuffle over to the wound on his side, or at least where it was. Like every time he died, he'd wake up with his body fully healed with no scars or signs of his life being taken from him.

However, if he didn't die his body would keep the scratches and little wounds on his body. Earlier this morning he got a little careless and split his knuckles, maybe he was putting into many hours as Mysterion here of late but if those stalkers didn't want to be punched, they shouldn't be stalking people. He nearly leaps from the bean bag when you talk about poppies growing from your knuckles this morning, telling Heidi the exact location where he had split his.

His heart was racing, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. There was no way he was that lucky, that he was that deserving that someone like you would be his soulmate. Just before he can stand up the universe reminds him just how unlucky he really is.

"Kenny! There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you dude!" Any other time he would have been happy to hear Stan's voice, happy to see the others following right behind him.

"This is so sad you guys.... Kenny is sleeping in the library now. Is your cardboard bed that uncomfortable?" Any other time Kenny would have shut Eric down with a comeback of his own, but all he could muster was a glare. "Whoa what crawled up your vagina this morning?"

"God damn it Cartman quit it and stop waving that fishing pole around! You've got fucking hooks on it!" Any other time Kenny would have ignored Kyle's yelling, the ginger looked for any excuse to yell at Eric.

"Guys! Look I'm really not in the mood to-" But before Kenny could finish, Eric swung around to face the man yelling at him.

The metal hook at the end of Eric's fishing rod that he was carrying around for god knows why, slammed into the side of Kenny's face. The sharp hook caught the side of his cheek and pierced through the flesh. Instead of screaming out in pain he bit his lower lip and muffled it, once you've been stabbed in a dark alley trying to fight off a group of people it just becomes second nature.

"Dude!"

"Oh, shit Kenny!"

"Sick! You're getting blood everywhere!"

Kenny didn't have time for this, not when you were-

Oh god you.

His eyes dart over to where you were standing with Heidi, silently praying to whatever poor god that would listen to him that you were alright. He watches as you cup the side of your face, hesitating for a moment before your fingers met the cluster of clovers growing on the side of your face.

It doesn't hurt this time. Not like the last few times, in fact it feels gentle. Fingers that aren't yours caressing the side of your face, a whisper of something more, that clumsy first kiss, all of it wrapped up in one little moment. The three leaf clovers bloom across your cheek stopping just at the edge of your lips where finally a single six leaf clover sprouts.

He doesn't wait another moment; with his gloved hands he takes the fishing line that connects the hook in his face and his friends fishing pole and snaps it. His friends watch in horror and awe how he breaks it like a dried twig, like it was nothing to him. Kenny's on his feet before they can stop him again, moving across the library floor with purpose. The pain in his face is nothing compared to what he'll feel if he lets you slip away from him again. His reputation be damned, his pain be damned, all of it damned!

The library went quiet, and any hushed whispers were stopped when Kenny made his way over to you. He didn't even seem to care that he was leaving quite the blood trail behind him, and if anyone in the library cared they quickly changed their minds from the look on his face alone. The sound of his footsteps behind you made you turn to face him, but you don't have much time as he takes your wrist and drags you away from the many eyes and ears of others.

The school grounds are quiet right now, most people either have already gone home or are in class. Kenny doesn't slow down when walking and you don't stop him from dragging you across campus. He takes you further off school grounds, back near the many hills of South Park where the grass is peeking out from under the snow. The first signs of spring being crushed under your heels as you walk. Turning to face you, he doesn't get a word out before you're already looking up at him ready to talk.

"I'm sorry." He almost doesn't pick up what you say, the way you whisper it so softly. The clovers on your face can't make it easy but he can't help but admire how you make them look so ethereal; a painting come to life. Timeless and within reach.

"Why are you sorry?" Kenny struggles to talk as blood pours from his mouth and down his chin.

You don't know why you chuckle or why you smile at him, you should be terrified. Horrified for him that he was standing there talking to you with a fishhook in his mouth like it was the most normal thing in the world. Yet, with him it did feel normal. Unlike the other times you've interacted with the blond. This time it felt right.

If this was the work of him being your soulmate at play, you didn't really care. For the first time in your life things felt peaceful, you didn't feel the pressure of others. Because there were no others, just Kenny and you on a rolling hill. Just two dandelions growing next to each other and basking in the setting sun.

"That you're stuck with...me?" Your voice breaks through the little fantasy in your head and reality comes shattering back around you.

Kenny shakes his head and grins down at you, the gap between his front teeth that he hates now, bare to your eyes. Suddenly he doesn't feel so insecure about it. "I was just about to say that to you. You're the one who's got a plant growing out of your face."

"They were spider lilies and poppies yesterday." When you laugh Kenny has to resist the urge to grab you and pull you in for a kiss.

"If I get to hear you laugh like that always, never apologize to me again." You go to laugh again and look away from him, but he takes the sides of our face and turns you to back towards him. He's so gentle with you, shaky hands being careful not to crush the clovers on your face.

'Anyone else would have.' You think.

"I'm serious. Never apologize to me for being you again. You have no idea how thrilled I am that it's you. That I finally get to have someone to call mine and it's you." Those purple eyes bare down into yours like rain in a thunderstorm. You can even feel the water rolling down your cheeks and he's brushing them away with his thumbs. Whispering soft hushes, telling you not to cry.

"Kenny..."

"Shh, it's alright. I'm only saying it because I get it. I know where you're at but... maybe...maybe this is the universe telling us it's time to love ourselves. I'm not saying we've got to figure this out now I know I've got a bit of reputation of-"

You cut him off, for the second time today Kenny's been cut off, but he doesn't care when your lips are pressed so gently against his. The taste of copper doesn't even seem to bother you either. His eyes flutter shut, and his hands drop from your face to your waist where he pulls you in like he's always wanted to.

"I don't... think you're as bad as you think you are." You whisper against his lips and Kenny feels like he's going to melt.

"I don't think you're as bad as you think you are." He throws your words back at you with a playful purr behind his tone. "Baby I could tell the world just how perfect you are."

You scoff at that and roll your eyes, but the shy smile that plays on your lips tells Kenny exactly what he wants to hear. He reaches up to wipe the blood of your face, but you stop him and take his hand pressing a kiss into the palm of his gloves. You run his fingers through the clovers and take a deep breath, taking in everything around you.

"One step at a time Ken. For now, let’s worry about getting that hook out of your face."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I kinda forgot about it."

"How?"

"Was too busy getting lost in your eyes~"

You snort and push his hand away from your face, but it doesn't go far. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and pull him towards the school. Kenny follows you down the hill with all the love in his eyes he can muster.

Kenny McCormick had so much love in his heart to give, and now it was all yours. Maybe in the days to pass you’ll fill your apartment with the various plants and each little bud and flower would remind you of just that. That you weren't alone, you were surrounded by his love. That you were enough. That too him, you were words he couldn't put together and express. Other than...

I love you.

[sourbinnie]

☆ tus gafitas.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> my attempt at fluff ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> seungmin x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> you like him, you really do and that's not gonna change. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

i looked at the sunglasses that had fallen from the seat of my car to the floor and i grabbed them like they belonged to me but they did not. late night car rides with seungmin were pretty common since the last comeback, he called me and wanted to go out, didn't care where to or if we didn't go to a place at all. he just wanted some company to listen to him and well he didn't use the sunglasses at night of course but he brought them and forgot them once more. we were gonna see each other tonight anyways so i could return them and not overthink the meaning of this.

we could spend hours talking yet the time seemed to be moving too fast, like i never had enough to savor the moments that i lived with him. maybe it was just my heart talking since i've been falling for him harder & harder every day. i just couldn't help it, could not help my feelings for the charming man that was beside me those nights. he knew what to say and what to do, every smile of his could light up the whole sky, every compliment he said my way i would blush to infinity. most of my friends tried to convince me that the feelings were reciprocated but i couldn't believe them since everyone fell for kim seungmin, i was just added to the list.

it was kinda odd how he decided to spend nights with me and not his friends, family or doing lives for his fans. but i couldn't really complain if it meant more time with him. sometimes i wish i would be the one to wake up beside him, on my free days take him to work, on my free time have lunch with him, on my lonely nights hold him tight. it was hard not to wish for those things and maybe they were closer than i thought they were. it was no secret that he wasn't the most affection driven person but with me? he always cuddled, he always put his head on my shoulder and took my hand while i was driving. 

okay maybe after thinking all of this, it was a mutual thing. 

but like i said it was impossible not to fall for him, maybe he just wanted some affectionate words and actions from someone who wasn't his band members. i looked at the sunglasses again and saved them in my bag since i wasn't really planning on driving today, he said he would take me somewhere. somewhere could be anywhere with seungmin but i was willing to take that risk for that lovely smile of his. as i walked to the dorms, i thought of the times where i would drive home and think of him, how complicated i was sometimes yet he seemed to understand me perfectly. how i told him that love for me always sucked and i did not see the point of it, how he felt the same but if he met the one, he knew all those feelings were disappear and something else would blossom. he told me how his hyungs were driven by love and their lyrics gravitated towards that but his lyrics would always tend to be sad.

and now look at me, a love driven fool for you kim seungmin. i did not believe in love but for him i chose to believe in it again. even if he didn't feel the same, i was thankful for feeling something so beautiful in my chest again. i shake my head as security lets me in since they already saw me walk in here way too many times, receiving me with a smile and a nod. i go up and take a few steps to find the door for his dorm, knocking once and then twice anxiously. i couldn't help but feel nervous all of the sudden as everything in my head was a mess and i just wanted to see him again.

he opens the door and smiles, god how deep i fell for this man. he lets me in without a word and i was wondering what was going on with him but he seemed to be looking fine from what i was noticing. the dorm looked empty, none of the other boys were here and that was odd, maybe seungmin got here earlier? or maybe they were all in the other dorm? poor chan, he would have to deal with that.

"i was waiting for you text me but i'm glad you're here." he said and embarrassingly enough i didn't even check my phone since he told me he wanted to see me at this hour. i just waited all day to come by and if i wasn't a love fool before i sure was now!

"i'm sorry, lost track of time but i'm glad to be here." i said with a little smile as i sat down and he dropped right next to me. it didn't feel weird to be so close but it was rare to be somewhere that wasn't my car and to be feeling so free about everything. usually we were both hidden under masks and bucket hats but right now i could see his features, everything about him took my breath away. "i hope you had a good day, i know it was the last promotion so i hope it went well."

"it's been good but i missed you. i don't know why, i just felt like a really big need to see you." he said and made my heart beat even faster. so i wasn't the only one anxiously waiting, the mutual feeling was there. "i hope i didn't bother you."

"it's my free day and even then you could never bother me." i said and got a tiny bit closer to him where we were touching hands. he finally decided to grab my hand and give it a squeeze as i grabbed his and squeezed back. he was making me feel so happy, so comfortable and i could not explain why. just simple actions of his drove me wild.

"i know but i don't wanna bother you ever. god i'm sounding so idiotic!" he exclaimed and hid himself behind me but i pulled him back because all i wanted to see was that beautiful face. he was blushing, crimson red like i was before and i found it endearing. "can i be honest?" he asked and i nodded.

"of course you can, about anything." i said as i looked at him and waited for him to process his words and answer back.

"i don't know why i started calling you in the night to hang out. at first it was because i missed you and we've always been friends. but now it's like i can't stop seeing you, i can't stop wanting more from you, i want your texts, for you to look my way, to be there at work whenever you can. i just want you, i need you so much." he said and i knew exactly how he felt because i was feeling the same way too. i was so afraid of falling in love but right now i felt like i was on the same page as he was and that made me feel better, like i wasn't all alone. "i think i just want you to be mine (y/n)."

"and i would love to be yours." i said simply as i looked at him and i could see the shock in his eyes. i knew it was a really sudden response but what was there to hesitate? i knew my answer since day one. since he told me that night that he would believe in love again once he found the right one, how much did i wish to be the right one at that moment.

"are you serious?" he asked still in denial and i put my hands on his cheeks as i got closer to him and met him for a sweet and short kiss. he then pulled me in and met me for another longer, beautiful and memorable one that took our breath away (literally). "i can't actually believe this." he said and couldn't stop smiling.

"well you have to, we are dating now right?" i asked and he nodded enthusiastically. getting to call him boyfriend was only a dream a few hours ago today but now it was a sweet reality that i got to live in. "did you actually kick all the boys out just so you could confess?"

"absolutely, i had to." he said and i just laughed as i imagine what they were doing right now in the other dorm. "now i can actually take you on a real date and stop pretending that i'm dating you in my imagination." he said and grabbed my hand to pull me up.

"wait, right now?" i asked and he nodded again as he took me out of the dorms and sent a quick message to his bandmates, telling them that he was going. i had no idea what the night had in store for us but i knew that i was gonna remember it forever. let's just say that his sunglasses stayed in my bag and then in my apartment for way longer than it thought they would. 

[t0ast-ghost]

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home thoughts!!!

Love me some good ol’ treks and I know this is the one with the whales (which reminds me of hitchhikers guide to the galaxy)

Warning for spoiling the whole movie (don’t cry over spoiled movie if you don’t have to! Go watch it for yourself!)

Let’s get going:

- A LEONARD NIMOY FILM ?!?

- okay Harve Bennett. I see you in the credits.

- I like the Saratoga crew. Too bad they’re probably gonna die immediately

- HIII SAREK!!! God he’s hot I hate him so much

- “Personal bias! His son was saved by Kirk.” His son is also married to Kirk so…

- McCoy got to choose the name of the ship :))

- Kirk’s wearing the same shirt.. oh wait they all are nvm

- Spock on a rock

- Hi Amanda!

- “Spock, the retraining of your mind has been in the Vulcan way so you may not understand feelings, but as my son, you have them.”

- Amanda trying to tell Spock that his friends care about him so much that they go against what is logical and it mirrors how in journey to babel Spock was not willing to sacrifice the good of the many (the ship) for the good of the one (his father) so I’m wondering if they will have an arc for him realizing that sometimes you want the one and not the many

- I like the problems they keep having with projectors/videos. Or not exactly problems but in the beginning they had to ask multiple times for the video to stop playing and here they are just talking over the transmission in the background. It adds a sense of confusion and havoc that I think makes it delightfully more realistic

- The Bird of Prey is such a beautiful design

- “I did not wish to be shot down on the way to our own funeral.” lol nice Chekov

- Nooo Spock and Saavik don’t have the mentor/mentee vibes anymore :(((

- Kirk really wants Spock to call him Jim… he misses his husband :(

- Bones is right. And then he leaves Kirk with the “That’s what I thought.” And the entire bridge crew is just like ‘don’t engage, look away, the husbands are fighting but just don’t look.’

- The copy pasted Saavik and Amanda

- “Hi. Busy?” McCoy sliding over to Spock

- McCoy just say you’re happy he’s back. He misses his verbal sparring buddy omg

- “Forgive me, Doctor, I’m receiving a number of distress calls.” McCoy is SHOCKED like, ‘did he just purposely reject me???’ I’m crying

- sad! Your husband died and now he doesn’t want to fight with you!!

- hi bitch! (It’s Sarek)

- THEY PUT EYELINER ON CHEKOV!

- THE PROBE SOUNDS LIKE WHALES ???

- so the transmission is for whales. That’s cool.

- Uhura would make a sick DJ. She’s remixing the whale sounds

- “Bones, you stay here.” “No way. Somebody’s got to keep an eye on him.” He’s trying to look out for his husbands

- love sci fi that is like ‘sea creatures interacting with space hmmm yess I think it will’ cause if you think about it, there’s a lot of sea that is unexplored just like space (yeah I’m talking about HGttG again)

- SPOCK SAYS SAVE THE FUCKING WHALES

- McCoy DOES NOT want them to travel back in time

- HII CHAPEL HIIII

- The chaos in the control room with someone on the screen talking over everyone else in the room… perfection

- Sometimes Kirk sounds like Seth Macfarlane

- “You really gonna try time travel in this rust bucket?” “We’ve done it before.” “Sure. Slingshot around the sun, pick up enough speed and you’re in time warp. If you don’t, you’re fried.” “You prefer to do nothing?” “I prefer a dose of common sense. You’re proposing that we go backwards in time, find humpback whales, then bring them froward in time, drop them off, and hope to hell they tell this probe what to go do with itself.” “That’s the general idea.” “Well, that’s crazy.” “You have a better idea? Now’s the time.” Yep. That summarizes it better than I could ever. How McCoy stays married to this man is a mystery

- The command base hears that Kirk is going to time travel and PANICS

- “May fortune favour the foolish.” Good Kirk line

- The ship is actively falling apart

- They’re back in time!

- Sulu lore! he was born in sanfransico or however you spell it

- McCoy trying not to laugh at Spock’s little bandana. Kirk smiles for a second and then remembers himself

- THEYRE IN THE WILD! SET LOSE! Who let them roam free?!

- Winchell’s Donut House. Wonder if that’s still open. Or real. Damn, I want donuts.

- Kirk almost getting run over “Well a double dumbass on you!” And then he throws up his hands omg I love him

- They’re all slaying

- “The rest of you, break up. You look like a cadet review.” They’re all kinda lost tho

- Spock in the pawn shop is looking like, ‘those were a birthday present from our husband. Why would you give them away :(‘

- Kirk and his powerful skills of deduction. He won’t let Spock just infodump :(

- They’re all really good looking.

- UHURA AND CHEKOV TEAM UP! Something I didn’t know I needed (I need it)

- NO LITTLE RUSSIAN BOY! Don’t ask for directions from a cop to a nuclear weapons base in the 1980s!

- SPOCK NERVE PINCHING THE PUNK ON THE BUS LOL

- “No one pays attention to you unless you swear every other word.” WELL. Okay. I’m not offended. At all.

- Spock frowning at the whales dying on the screen

- “To hunt a species to extinction is not logical.” There’s a lot of times you think ‘Vulcans can be emotionless which could equal cruelty’ but looking at this, humans with emotions turn out more cruel because that is an emotion. We want and are greedy. It’s surprising that Vulcans are friends with humans because of just how much illogical carnage we have wrought. Anyway.

- Hey Jim. Where’s Spock?

- Kirk becoming more and more worried that he can’t find Spock. And then he turns around AND HES IN THE TANK.. this is why McCoy wants to come along. Jim cannot watch him well enough

- Spock’s ass can’t believe he went in there to mind meld with the whales

- Sopping wet Spock

- “The hell they did.” SPOCK SWEAR OMG

- “Can’t you remember?” “The hell I can’t.” I love him so much, he’s being a little shit, this is on purpose. I think writers should let him say hell and other expletives more often

- “Oh come on, Bob! I don’t know about you, but my compassion for someone is not limited to my estimate of their intelligence.” DID YALL IN THE BACK HEAR THIS???

- Uhura and Chekov on the beach with the seagulls

- Gillian’s got a “I ❤️ whales” sticker on her truck. I love her.

- “I think he did a little to much LDS.” I think Kirk meant to say Spock does LSD? I’m assuming?

- This lady just picked up two husbands trying to save the whales.. that’s very lucky for her

- “Are you sure it isn’t time for a colourful metaphor.” LET SPOCK SAY FUCK

- “You guys like Italian?” Spock and Kirk proceeding to fight by saying no and yes repeatedly is my favourite

- They’re just letting Scotty and McCoy roam around???

- I love McCoy and Scotty improvising together, and Scotty going off and getting upset

- “May my assistant join us?” “Don’t bury yourself in the part.”

- Sulu just gets to nerd out about helicopters

- McCoy sitting on any and all surfaces like it’s a chair. Scotty joining him.

- McCoy handing Scotty the mouse like he’s so proud of himself

- McCoy’s got his ✨dazzling✨ eyes on rn

- “We’d be altering the future.” “Well, how do you know he didn’t invent the thing.” Scotty. That’s not how time travel works.

- So basically McCoy gets Jim and Spock out of trouble but gets into trouble when he’s with Scotty

- THEYRE JUST LEAVING SPOCK IN THE PARK oh wait he’s going to the ship

- Get yourself a partner who would cry over whales

- “I’m from Iowa, I only work in outer space.” This man smh

- Oh no. Get Chekov out of there. Holy shit.

- “Must be the radiation.” He proceeds to throw the phaser at the guy and then runs out the door

- Gillian not afraid to slap Bob over whales

- Did- did Sulu steal a helicopter? Yes. Yes he did.

- Gillian sees Spock with his ears and eyebrows and she’s like ‘yeah makes sense’

- “Admiral, may I suggest that Dr. McCoy is correct?” Spock agrees with McCoy. 208 dead, 15 injured

- Gillian is surrounded by the polycule. She just wants her whales to be safe.

- McCoy is literally the best. He saw this person suffering and then immediately helped

- “Uh, excuse me, we’ll take that.” They steal the gurney and Gillian immediately hops onto it. I love her.

- “This woman has immediate postprandial upper abdominal distension.” “What did you say she’s got?” “Cramps” McCoy saw the security and went ‘Yep they’re stupid’ he didn’t even bother with a proper lie

- In an argument between a 20th century doctor and McCoy, I would bet McCoy any and every time

- I love when McCoy is just.. appalled at old medicine

- Chekov slowly regaining awareness and he lifts his head only for Kirk to push his face down with a, ‘not now, Pavel.’

- I like how the crew right now have been using Chekov’s first name and are protective of him.

- Sulu immediately being there to help Chekov get back on the ship 🥺🥺🥺

- This woman is so into whales that she would time travel for them

- Is McCoy sitting on the console and leaning over it to talk to talk to Spock? Yes, yes he is.

- “Well, then you’re just gonna have to take your best shot.” “Best shot?” “Guess, Spock.” “Guessing is not in my nature, Doctor.” “Well, nobody’s perfect.” He lets that last line drawl and then stares at Spock for a little too long. That’s flirting.

- That was the most intense countdown. I felt like something might happen to the whales within those ten seconds and I was worried

- “So I will make a… guess.” McCoy is rubbing off on Spock

- “No, Spock. He [Kirk] means that he feels safer about your guesses than most other people’s facts.” Hehe

- She was so happy just staring at her whales but then Kirk goes and interrupts that

- “I belong here, I am a whale biologist.” They are so lucky that they ran into someone THIS interested in whales

- McCoy resists the urge to just look at Spock when they’re travelling back to their time

- I like how there’s a hatch leading outside on the bridge… of a spaceship.

- forgot how hot Kirk’s poofy sleeves are

- They have a scene where everyone just gets absolutely drenched

- I’m so glad they didn’t have subtitles for the whales and probes. It’s more realistic for the universe. Starfleet doesn’t know what they’re saying, the crew doesn’t know what they’re saying, we shouldn’t know what they’re saying. It’s not how the universe works.

- They’re cheering for whales. I love when people cheer for things

- They’re all playing in the water omg this is adorable

- hi bitch (Sarek)

- Jim walks in with McCoy right behind him and Spock goes to join them from where he’s sitting

- I love Scotty’s little moustache it’s so :<

- McCoy is NOT listening, he’s got like nyan cat theme playing in his head

- THEY GAVE HIM COMMAND OF A STARSHIP FOR DISOBEYING ORDERS?!?

- I think McCoy should run up to Spock and Kirk and get them to kiss here

- Scott and Sulu arguing over which ship they think they’ll get <3

- McCoy is leaning so sluttily on the new bridge

The credits just showing pictures of each of the cast is adorable

See ya on the flip flop

Masterpost

[chnt-confessions]

i think i'm the only person in the entire fandom that has any genuine empathy for elijah, and i'm stuck thinking there's something deeply wrong with me for that. i feel like quite a lot of people split black on him (and joshua) and then split white on jedidiah, and sydney. the ONLY two options are to dehumanize or objectify him. no hate to jedidiah-likers, but jedidiah is not a victim. he doesn't act entirely the way he does because of trauma, he acts that way because he implicitly looks down on sydney. what kind of man jeopardizes the entire world for a man that he let gravely sick in the first place, only to gaslight and neglect him?? all this because of mommy and daddy issues that, like, 70% of the population has?? i had to headcanon extra issues and trauma for him to just to keep myself sane. i don't mean to invalidate his trauma, but he has lived such a privileged life and can easily go to therapy and yet. i'm sorry but it's bojack-horseman levels of "how tf do you expect me to feel bad for you? lmao." like, i need him to get better because people will likely die if he gets any worse, but other than i couldn't care less about this guy. i'm way more sympathetic to sydney because he's trying his best but he seems to have an empathy deficiency of some kind (it's not his fault but it is painfully obvious sometimes and i wish i could fix him but i have to fix myself first because i also deal with this); i also relate to the "feeling unlovable" aspect of things.

we have only seen elijah at his worst. the elephant man is elijah "mental breakdown, 2 years and counting psychotic episode" core; did everyone just assume he was born like that? and if he was, that would also make me sad tbh. he had a similar upbringing to jedidiah and yet he does not show it at all and i'm wondering what tf was different. he also generally sucks at being a villain sometimes (i.e. telling sydney his weakness, letting sydney go back to jedidiah, reacting way better than most people would when sydney told him that he couldn't get the journals). when jedidiah says "sydney, you're always fine." vs when elijah says it; jedidiah said it to gaslight sydney and because he feels bitter about the fact he's working so hard to keep sydney alive and can't use it to manipulate him (i'm joking but i'm also not joking), while elijah was just being a little acolyte and also he's symbolically the earth, so when he says the earth will catch him when he falls, he is fr. idk what snapped in him with the murder-suicide thing but considering that he is the earth, and unfortunately due to sydney's weird little mind and jedidiah's horribleness, the earth is, like, post-apocalyptic now so it probably has something to do with that (idk why he switched from stabbing to burning alive; probably cuz of the theatrics/j). anyway, he does suck and he needs to go back to russia and never come back for everyone's good, but i really do think he would be better than jedidiah could ever be (yes, even with therapy; i'm literally speaking facts/hj) if "everyday [wasn't] a living fucking nightmare." and i'm constantly like "._." whenever i remember that jedidiah is the reason "everyday is a living fucking nightmare." also i really wanna see someone do elijah/the elephant man analysis/interpretation that doesn't reek of disgust and hatred (or lust; do whatever you want, but i'm judging you rn), just for variety tbh. here is his official playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/389N5sUULTXFC63I3CSn7c?si=756dacaa18cd491c some of the songs in here are, like, "???" and i want to see someone's else's take on them (even elijah haters tbh) sorry for the essay, that's all i wanted to say :)

also im so happy that i can say this anonymously, thank you chnt-confessions for doing god's work, i love you platonically <3

(ABOUT THE LAST PART) no need to apologize and I'm really glad to make you happy!!

[tinta420]

Rehabilitating the saints

Lucifer x reader x alastor

Chapter 1

Reader pov

It works, it really works sinners have a chance. While reading the text from Emily while at a coffee shop this is how I find out. When Emily brought it up I will admit I had my doubts, did I want it to happen, yes we have always shared ideas but I never had too much hope it was always more of a throw away idea due to my job when I was alive was prison rehabilitation, but now that I see that this works with sinners this opens so many more opportunities. Heaven has become boring, I only died a few years back so now the holyness of heaven has just worn off and I am just bored, it's always a "perfect" day and when every day is perfect it means every day is boring, except for Emily, she was always different. Maybe this can bring me an opportunity, I did love my job when I was alive maybe this is why I was put here in the first place. I shook my head and looked around me and watched as people would drink coffee and talk about latest fashion or what they were doing for the day as if it wasn't what they did every single damn day. I stood up maybe it's time for a change.

I rushed over to Emily and Sera's office. I loved Emily's company ever since I met her when I first died, Sera's... That is another story but sadly they share an office so I would have to deal with her. I have a knock and waited. It took a few seconds but Emily ended up parking her head through and then sliding out the crack in the door in order to not let me inside, she had the biggest smile on her face. "Y/N CHARLIE WAS RIGHT SHE DID IT I knew she had to I knew God would not abandon her, no one else agrees I don't understand why" Emily pushed out is rushed excited whispers. "So it is true? I rushed over here as soon as I read the news, is the person in there now?" She nods then peaks in "Sera does not want many people to know, she does not even know what to think or do about the situation, she's trying to tip toe around what we see, I am not naive I know she's trying to handle this in a way that won't make either of us fall, but as I told her how can we fall if it is clearly God's will? God allowed this to happen how can we fall now if we talk about it or now try and figure out more about it?". I can tell.shes been mulling this over for a while, she always questioned and it always ended with worries from all the other seraphim, everyone loves her and it would be a shame if she suffered the same fate as Lucifer. She looked deep in thought, sometimes I wish I was able to think the way she did and had more questions I just have gotten too comfortable just not knowing. "Hmmm I meaaaan this is news youuu should know about it's pretty handy that I know a person who wooorked as a rehabilitation counselor and down there, there really is no trained people, there's Charlie and she has her activities but I am unsure if she knows what she's doing, I know when we first brought this up there was no proof but now we have proof that this can work Sera cannot deny it. How would you feel about getting back into your old job? I know it is different but it's kind of the same" Emily rushed, I was always glad that when I did have ideas she was always on the same.wage length, made it easier to not have to explain, maybe as a seraphim they just have a power like that, it always just seemed like an Emily thing though. "I was thinking the same thing when I first read your text saying it worked, could we maybe talk to Sera?" She looked between me and the crack in the door "noon tomorrow come back and knock 7 times, I will work on her to get you an in" she said determined already, I smiled and nodded "thank you I will see you then and I promise I will not let you down" Emily have me the biggest hug and we said our goodbyes and she snuck back in. I have a whole day to prepare at least, maybe I should look into getting more formal wear for tomorrow.

As noon approaches I watch the clock. I try to brush off my button up for the umpteenth time. I used to hate wearing formal clothes for work but after not for a long time I've grown to miss it. I used to wish I could wear normal clothes as it helped create another connection between me and the clients however I do feel as if they wouldn't have taken me seriously if I had followed through.

[fullstcp]

"emails i can't send: fwd" by Sabrina Carpenter Sentence Starters

emails i can't send

"It's times like these, wish I had a time machine."

"Were you really asleep?"

"Were you lying to me and the family?"

"There's no 'us' in us when I'm lacking trust."

"You disgust me."

"Don't say sorry now."

"Thanks to you, I can't love right."

"I blame you for every worst that I assume."

"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."

"Please fucking fix this."

"You were all I looked up to."

"Now I can't even look at you."

VICIOUS

"You're lucky I'm a private person."

"I've quietly carried your burden."

"Everyone thinks you're an angel, but, shit, I would probably use different wording."

"Why you gotta be so vicious?"

"You just run to whoever is winning."

"Said that it was me and you for life."

"Now you're kinda acting like I died."

"You don't think you hurt me if you wish me the best."

"I loved you, but I wish I didn't."

READ YOUR MIND

"I can't read your mind."

"You say you need to be alone, but night and day, want me at your beck and call."

"You're not my friend and you never were."

"Why the fuss if you say you just wanna be mine?"

"Double checking, did I get the message in the way you intended?"

TORNADO WARNINGS

"Don't understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step."

"I want you there sometimes."

"I'm lying to my therapist."

because i liked a boy

"Who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless?"

"It was all so innocent."

"I'm not catastrophizing, everything's derailing."

"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."

"And all of this for what?"

"When everything went down we'd already broken up."

ALREADY OVER

"We'd probably be better off as friends."

"Make me fall where I stand, only like you can."

"I say I'm done, but I'm still confused."

"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need closure?"

"I change my mind, but it's still on you."

"How am I supposed to leave you now that you're already over?"

"Selfishly don't wanna give you time to be on someone else's lips."

"I'll take three short hours over three long weeks pretending like we don't exist."

"I know you'll be coming back."

"I like my bed, but it likes you too."

how many things

"There's no hiding from the thought of us."

"I've got ways to find you anywhere."

"I consider you, I'm not trying to."

"Your corner in my mind is well-established."

"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."

"I feel myself falling further down your priorities."

I still make excuses for you constantly."

"Remember when you left once?"

"Am I not even a second thought?"

bet u wanna

"It's cold out there, let me know what you found."

"Bet you wanna love me now."

"When you don't have control of who I'm holding, is it feeding all your fears?"

"If you're satisfied, touché."

"Your so-called friends are gone."

"I bet you hate the way that you said goodbye."

"I hate the way that you left me dry."

NONSENSE

"Think I only want one number in my phone."

"I might change your contact to 'don't leave me alone'."

"Treat me like a queen, now you got me feeling thrown."

"I can't help myself when you get close to me."

"I don't want no one else."

"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."

"I can't find my chill, I must've lost it."

"You gotta keep up with me."

"I caught that L-O-V-E."

"How do you do this to me?"

"I don't even know anymore."

FAST TIMES

"Ahead of myself's an understatement."

"What the fuck is patience?"

"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."

skinny dipping

"We've been swimming on the edge of a cliff."

"I'm resistant, but going down with the ship."

"It'd be so nice if we could take it all off and just exist."

"Won't that be too nostalgic?"

"We won't bring up the past, we'll keep it bureaucratic."

BAD FOR BUSINESS

"All of my friends think I've gone crazy."

"They don't know me like my baby."

"We look good in photographs."

"Now you're taking up my nights."

"I've never been so glad to be so tired."

"I'm mad for you."

"It's sad but true and I know it."

"You're on my mind."

"You stole my life and it's showing."

"You had to go and break into my head."

"I'd make all the same mistakes again."

"I know everyone sees that you'll be the death of me."

"You're good for my heart, but you're bad for business."

decode

"You're good at the falling, not the staying there."

"You're good at the giving too much, then getting scared."

"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."

"You had me for a minute there."

"Where else can we go?"

"There's nothing left here to decode."

"I'm done looking for signs in the gaps and the silence."

"There's a weight off my shoulders now that I don't chase you."

"I'm learning from you that I can walk away too."

opposite

"Oh, so you do have a type and it's not me."

"Oh, so you can reply, just to not me."

"You knew I would see that."

"You knew I would notice."

"Should I be trying to take it as a compliment?"

"Why do you look so happy?"

"Now I think I get the cause of it."

"You were holding out to find the opposite."

"When you said I'm beautiful, was I being lied to?"

FEATHER

"I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind."

"Your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch."

"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."

"I got you blocked, excited to never talk."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"You miss me? No duh."

LONESOME

"If I fall in love with all my problems, will they leave me too?"

"Maybe I believed in all your lies cause I believed in you."

"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"

"I know you know it keeps me up."

"Did you even give a fuck?"

"There's no hope in misery."

"I can't escape your history."

"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."

things i wish you said

"Sorry I left you in the dark."

"Everything reminds me of you."

"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."

"When I saw you cry, I didn't handle it well."

"Without you here, I don't know what to do with myself."

"I saw you met somebody and I'm jealous as hell."

"I can't even fathom loving somebody else."

[amelee23]

Special | Lee Know Fluff

Pairing: Lee Know x Gender neutral reader

Genre: Romance, poetic prose, first person

Word count: 1k

Warnings: this is disgustingly romantic, reader is worshiping their love for lino basically, talks about mythology and gods

A/n: Please let me know if you liked this, since I do know this is a kind of writing that isn't really done around here (?) but I am a hopeless romantic so here goes nothing lmao

Synopsis: One day, you began to wonder: what makes your love story with Minho so special? As you struggle to find an answer, you only find more love.

Millions of people fall in love every single day, but what makes my story special?

My story, by all normal means, is not in any way special. I'm sure history has heard of stories like mine countless of times.

What could I say to make it sound special? That it was love at first sight?

Well, it was. But that's also cliche. I don't believe it to be as rare as it sounds.

That he thawed my cold heart and made it beat again? Even though he did - my ex made me feel oh so special, and when he walked out of my life, every wall he had knocked down were built right back up.

But then I met another boy, and he spoke to me with a sparkle in his eye, with hidden kindness and sensitivity beyond every word. And I fell in love hopelessly, on the spot.

What else could I say -? That he has a heart of gold? He does, this boy of mine has helped countless animals find shelter, fed starving children across the world and offered every little ounce of him towards the happiness of those around him. But does that make our story special enough?

He's not a king of ancient kingdoms, although secretly, when he sits down at his desk I imagine he could be. A heavy crown on his head, the garments of nobility, an aura around him that demands respect. Plus, he's never taken a selfish decision in his life, he's always looked after me and stirred me in the right direction.

He's not a knight in shining armor, although when we're together I feel so powerful - that we could indeed be slaying dragons! Both of us, clad in armor, standing back to back with wide swords ready to charge into battle, the background forgotten in a mist of smoke and ashes. There is no foe that could stand in our way.

Perhaps you could say, this story is special because he is special. But he would kill me if he heard me say that, that he's special and I'm not.

Because if you ask him, I've got it all backwards. He's just Minho, and I'm the star.

The star of his world.

He swears I must be famous, because although I don't see it (or refuse to admit it) everyone around me adores me. Or so he says. He always says I'm loved, oh so loved, and not just by him. He's merely my biggest fan, and sometimes-! Sometimes he acts like my manager. Marketing me to others, telling stories of how great I am. How cute.

But let's get back to talking about him. Since he's my favorite topic to talk about.

So he's not a king, nor a knight. Perhaps he's a seer, since he does seem to posses the ability to foresee the future! He always talks about such distant destinies, the names of our children, the color of our shared bedroom, the furniture of our kitchen, all these memories we're yet to have... Hmm, maybe he can predict the future. I doubt it's all wishful thinking!

Or maybe he's a magician? A healer, a witch, a mage - he must be able to perform some sort of healing magic, because once, when I had a headache, he kissed my forehead and the pain went away. That couldn't have been a coincidence-!

What else could I compare him to, to make this seem more magical? An Egyptian deity...? No, let's not do that, it sounds somewhat blasphemous to compare a mere mortal to an ancient God... although he should definitely try dressing as one for Halloween! Gold would look great on his honey-like skin, surrounded by his tightly protected kittens... From what I have read he'd fit Anubis the most, for he's such a good listener, so supportive, it's like he has the ability to bring people back to life, breathe motivation back into them when they feel they're at the end of their road - just like Anubis used to help in the process of reincarnation. It doesn't even have to be Egyptian, I could say he reminds me of Prometheus, the man who stole fire from the gods, to give it to humanity in an absolute tragic and noble sacrifice... (I did compare him to gods even though I said I wouldn't, right?)

Maybe he's a forest fairy? No, this one I am a certain about. He blends into nature, it's the place where he most belongs. What else could he be, other than a magical sprite of nature? Animals adore him, I'm sure he can communicate with them in languages only they can understand. And whenever we go camping, and he lies down on the grass, on our old and stained picnic blanket, it seems as though the grass grows; flowers sprout around his body and the sun seeps into his skin, making him glow. And then he smiles and beckons me over, to share with him of his fruit, and I'm sure it's actually ambrosia.

Yes, this should be the one. Being a human, being my lover, it's all just a cover for something so deeply mysterious, ancient and magical, living inside of him, running through his veins... I hope he doesn't lose his magic by settling for someone as simple as me, who could only admire, but barely comprehend the history of his existence...

If he were to read this, he would think I'm very funny. And probably check my temperature for a fever. But one thing's for sure - we could be anything if we tried to be, a supernatural story, a Greek tragedy, a new York besteller... But we don't need to. Because what we have is enough.

There's a million people who fall in love every single day. But there's a million reasons why my lover is made out of pure magic - and while this might not be the most special love story of all time, it is the most special story of my life.

A/n: Just a thousand words my game weak this time around I am sTRugGLINg

If you like my work, consider donating so I can continue writing!

©amelee23 do not copy or repost

[dino-cattivo]

Pray for me, cos I won't pray for you

My fic for the @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang!

The amazing art for this fic was done by @jeniidrawsshit and oh my god I love it so so much. It is just so amazing.

LINK TO THE ART!!! GO CHECK IT OUT!!

Pairing: Hob/Dream

Rating: mature

Word Count: 40,657

Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, gore like the dinner episode, The Corinthian is His Own Warning (The Sandman), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Alternate Universe - Mob, Organized Crime, Hob joins the mafia, Self Confidence Issues, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, POV Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Needs A Hug, Misunderstandings

Summery: After their fight in 1889 Hob falls in with a bad crowd thanks to a boy that reminds him of Robyn. He tries to stop his descent into crime not wanting to be reduced to being nothing more than a murderer again. But eh fails. Compared to all the live he ends helping to guard a basement is tame. If only Corinthian, the right hand man of his employer, would stop flirting with him despite being turned down multiple times already.

Chapter 1 under the cut. Will repost the next chapters as reblog because of word limit.

~1889~

“You knew Lady Johanna. You know, Lushing Lou. You know everyone, don't you?” Hob asked in wonder. He may not know who or rather what his stranger was, but he could never help but be amazed by everything he could do. Sometimes when he laid awake, unable to catch sleep, he came up with the wildest theories about the man. He imagines him being a vampire, a fae, and even considered an old god from Greece. But he would never know, as his stranger never revealed anything about himself, not even his name. 

It felt unfair in a way. Him knowing everything about Hob, while Hob got nothing. It had crossed his mind to be petty, to keep things to himself, go against their deal in a way. But Hob couldn’t stop himself from telling the man whatever he could when they saw each other, eager to be able to share.  

“I saw her again, you know.”

“Who? Lady Johanna?” Worry flared up. He knew his stranger was fine, sitting across the table from him. He also knew the man was strong enough to protect himself. But he couldn’t help wanting to be there, to protect, to keep his stranger safe, even at the cost of his own freedom.

“She undertook a task for me and succeeded admirably, I might add.”

Jealousy, burning hot, filling his veins. He tried to tamper it down, to net let it get to him, but he couldn’t help himself. All the time he had wanted nothing more than to get close to his stranger, to prove his worth, and now he had offered that chance to someone else. He had chosen someone who had hunted them down and tried to do harm instead of someone he shared centuries of friendship with.

It hurt. 

Although, could he hold it against his stranger? The man knew Hob for so long, knew what he has done, knew all his failures during his long life. So it was no wonder he didn’t trust Hob enough to ask him for a favor. His voice was filled with self-loathing as he spoke. “That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years. People are almost always better than you think they are. Not me, though. Still the same as ever.”

“I think perhaps you've changed.” Hob’s heart started beating faster at the other’s words. Did he really think so? Hob wished it was true. He wants to change, to be good, worthy of his stranger.

“Well, I may have learned a bit from my mistakes. But, uh… doesn't seem to stop me from making them. I think it's you that's changed.”

“How so?”

Hob should shut up now and be content with what he had, seeing the man he had fallen for every hundred years. He should not press the issue, no matter how desperate he was to be acknowledged by the other. But Hob had never been smart when it came to things he desired.

“I think I know why we still meet here, century after century. It's not because you want to see whether or not I'm ready to seek death. I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now, you know that about me. So, I think you're here for something else.”

“And what might that be?” His stranger looked curious at that. Hob liked the look as it meant he had done something to surprise the man.

“Friendship. I think you're lonely.” And in true Hob fashion, he managed to put his foot in his mouth. He knew the moment he had spoken, he had made a mistake. It was the truth, but the wording was just unfortunate and way too blunt. And not at all how he had planned to breach the topic.

“You dare…”

“No, look, I'm not saying–,” Hob tried to backpedal, but it was too late. “You… dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Maybe despite Hob’s foolish approach, there was a chance all of this still had a good outcome, and they would get closer. “Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong.” Or maybe not. Hob sprang up from his chair and chased after his stranger as the man strode out of the tavern. The man couldn’t do this. If he wanted or not, they were friends. You didn’t just storm off and leave your friends behind.

“I'll tell you what, I'll be here in 100 years' time. If you're here then, too, it'll be because we're friends. No other reason, right?” He was met by silence as his stranger didn’t seem fit to answer and just disappeared. 

“Fսck.” 

~1897~

He was pissed, absolutely livid. Who did he think he was? He had no right to speak to Hob like this, no matter how powerful he was. That was not how things worked. You couldn’t be an asshole like that and expect people to stick around. Hob didn’t need him. They saw each other only every hundredth years, and even then the stranger often didn’t have time for Hob and fucked off with someone else. So what if Shakespeare was famous now? Hob would still have been better company back then. No, he didn’t need the man. He would make new friends. Better ones.

~1936~

Okay, so maybe mistakes had been made and Hob should have chosen his words more carefully. That was on him. His stranger still shouldn’t have exploded like this and should rather have tried to talk things out like a grown up, but still – Hob hadn’t been entirely blameless in the situation.

When they saw each other the next time he would have to apologize and maybe then they could laugh together about the stupid fight. Or well, Hob had never seen his stranger laugh, couldn’t even imagine it. He would settle for a smirk then.

~1983~

Anxiety was settled deep in his chest. What if his stranger proved him wrong. What if he didn’t show, determined to not give in. Hob had no way of finding him. He didn’t even know who he was looking for. What would Hob even do? Nothing besides showing up in the White Horse every hundred years and praying at some point his stranger would forgive him and come for him. 

Once more, he felt powerless in their relationship. It was the whole reason why he had even started the fight, wanting to know more, anything about his stranger. He didn’t want to be on equal footing, knowing it would never be, but he wanted something that was his. He didn’t want to be just another amusement the man had, but to mean at least something to the other. 

Tears sprung to his eyes as he hit his desk in frustration. It was unfair. The stranger meant too much to him, was such a big part of his life, and Hob didn’t even know if he was the only immortal he kept. Maybe Shakespeare was out there under a new name, living his best life and meeting his stranger more often than every hundredth years. And there was nothing Hob could do about it, no way for him to even find out.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any more work, he gathered his documents and put them in a briefcase before leaving the empty office and making his way through the dark street. They were in the progress of having the gas street-lamps replaced by electrical once, but it was slow progress. And during it many streets stayed dark, since repairing gaslights when they were about to be replaced was a waste of resources according to the major. Hob didn’t care too much, he didn’t fear the dark.

He should have.

A dark figure stepped in front of him, barely noticeable in the moonlight. Turning around to run, he saw another figure blocking the other exit of the street and walking towards Hob. A flash of metal in the dark, a weapon. Hob swallowed, not because he was scared, he had survived much worse, but because it spelled trouble, and he couldn’t risk anyone finding out he was immortal. Not with times changing and hiding who he was becoming more and more difficult.

“Your money or your life,” Hob had to suppress a snort at the nasal voice. Ah, criminals, always the same no matter how many centuries passed. He remembered the time well, when he was in the other's position, stopping the carriages of rich folks and demanding the valuables. He had used the exact same words. Although, he guessed there was no much need for flair when it came to such simple matters.

“Alright, I will give you what I have. Please don’t hurt me,” Hob held up his hands, talking calm and trying not to provoke them. He couldn’t die, sure, but being stabbed hurt like a freaking bitch. Hob would rather part with some cash he had on hand and his watch. Nothing holding real value to him, and easy enough to replace. 

So very slowly and telegraphing his movement clearly, he reached inside his coat and pulled out his wallet, holding it out until it was snatched from his fingers. Next was his watch that got the same treatment. And still Hob was well-behaved, not struggling, calm and cooperating. He gave no reason for the situation to escalate, giving his robbers all chances to just leave now with their loot.

Which was why Hob was so surprised when pain exploded at the side of his head. He stumbled, his knee hitting the pavement, his palm getting scratched as he caught himself. Blinking, he tried to lift the haze from his thoughts as he looked up at the two shapes hovering above him. 

It was only instincts, honed through centuries with conflicts, that saved him, his head ducking automatically as he heard the swish of metal through the air. But just because the knife didn't slash his face didn't mean he was safe, as he was not as fortunate in avoiding the kick to his side. He cried out as pain exploded in his ribs. Every fiber of his being wanted him to curl up and protect his soft belly, but he forced down this instinct with gritted teeth. 

No, if you wanted to survive, you had to fight with everything you got. Using the momentum of the kick, he stumbled back to his feet, and got some distance between himself and the attackers. Despite the throbbing in his head, he now could see them more clearly, that was not the face of someone just messing around. No, they wore big smiles, and were enjoying his pain. They wouldn't stop. At least not on their own. 

One of them, heavy dark coat, spindly frame, soon ran towards Hob, knife in hand. Amateur movements. Hob stepped forward, getting close, deflected the blade by smacking the other's arm. His knee meets the other's stomach, sending him down. Before he could make sure he stayed down the other man, this one smaller but wider, jumped on him, and they tumbled to the ground.

That was fine. Hob knew how to wrestle and had the other in a chokehold in seconds. Still two against one, but he kicked out the legs of the man running towards him to tear him off his friend.

The body was suddenly in free-fall, arms whirling trying to get back balance. 

Then a sickening crunch and Hob froze.  

He had heard it often during his lifetime. He had sworn he would no longer be the cause of it. 

Looking over, he didn't need to see the neck bend in an awkward position to know the man was gone. 

Hob had killed him. He hadn't meant to, it had been an accident. But he had killed someone. 

After all the lifetime he had lead and all the killing and dying he had done, he had wanted to be done with it. He just wanted to live in peace and do let others do the same. But now he had ripped someone else out of their life. How could he live with himself knowing what he had just done. 

“Chris,” the man, Hob was still entangled on the ground with, cried out and struggled to free himself. Hob helped him as best as he could now that he was no longer in danger of being attacked. 

Getting up himself, he saw the man kneeling next to the body crying, shaking it and begging for Chris to open his eyes. The man didn’t. They never did. Once someone was gone, there was nothing you can do, no matter how you cried out to your stranger to spare them. 

Suddenly the man got up, swinging at Hob, but in his grief it had become uncoordinated and Hob easily stopped the punch. 

“You murderer! You killed him!”

He hadn’t meant to. And it wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t attacked him. But pointing that out wouldn’t help, as the man would not listen to reason. He wanted someone to be angry at, to blame, to lessen his own guilt. And Hob was the perfect target. Hob stopped the other punch and just held on as the man cried. It was the least Hob could do.

There was the sound of footsteps in the distance, spooking the man, and he ripped himself free and started stumbling away. Hob didn’t stop him, just sitting down on the ground next to the cooling body and waited. He should probably call the police, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, so he just waited. How long he didn’t know, but at some point steps came closer and when he looked up Hob could see men in uniform entering the alley. The police has arrived. 

Hob didn’t resist when he was dragged up and cold iron snapped around his wrist. Neither when he was pulled away. Everything was a blur. He didn’t remember how they made it to the station, just that he found himself in a chair, an officer sitting on the other side of the desk staring him down.

He was asked questions he can’t answer, the full name of the victim, their relationship and most of all why he did it. All Hob can say is, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, they attacked me first, I just tried to defend myself, then he fell. Over and over, he repeats it like a mantra. Something to hang on when everyone wants to make him believe he did it on purpose. When their words make him question himself. 

I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I was just defending myself.

He didn’t know how much time has passed, there was no clock in the room nor window. His voice was rough and black spots dance on the edge of his vision, they hadn’t bothered giving him a glass of water. The blood in his hair from the first swing he took was dry and flaking off every time he shakes his head in denial. His ribs throb with every breath.

He was about to just nod, accept whatever they said if it meant he will be thrown into a cell where he could lay down and close his eyes. It would ruin his life, but wouldn’t that be right after what he had done? A few years of suffering was the least he deserved. Especially since he unlike others had the option to start anew after faking his death.

His downward spiral was stopped by a man bargain in, under loud protests of some officers. The man’s briefcase hit the desk hard, and Hob flinched back at the loud noise.

“Don’t say anything,” sharp blue eyes drilled into Hob’s making him cower at the imposing figure in front of him. The man commanded respect, not because of the nice suit he was wearing or the expensive jewelry or because he was even taller than Hob, but in the way he held himself, his presence filling the whole room. 

So Hob shut his mouth. It was not like anyone was really listening to what he had to say anyway. And not speaking would be good for the scratching in his throat. His fate now would be decided if the new person was a friend or someone wanting to drag him down. Hob didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

“You,” the man whirled on the officer, making him duck on instinct, only to puff up and try to make himself more imposing when he noticed. “Tell me how it comes that you had him in here for 8 hours and couldn’t even be bothered to give him a glass of water nor give him medical attention? Where are we? At the witch trials,” Hob flinched hard at the words, remembering the trials only too well. Back then he had broken as well, admitting to anything as long as it meant the pain would end. 

To his surprise, the stranger pushed his briefcase further on the desk, blocking Hob’s slumped form from view and gave him at least a bit of privacy as he fought with his demons.

“He killed a man! What do you expect? A fluffed up pillow and a three-course meal?”

“Human decency!” The officer was now absolutely cowering under the pressure, despite his best efforts. “Or are you that desperate you couldn’t take the 10 minutes to have him checked over? Maybe because you know you don’t have a case?”

“Bullshit! I know you love to put your nose where it doesn’t belong, Mr. Henderson. He killed the guy. We found him next to the corpse, and he admitted it was him who made the deceased fall.”

“And wasn’t he also quite persistence that the deceased and another man were the once attacking him, and he was just defending himself? Or are you just going to ignore that? So I suggest instead of harassing the victim, you should rather be out there looking for the second attacker.”

And the officer, despite his complaints and grumbling, got up and left the room. There was no way to know if he was really searching for the other attacker, and if there was even a chance to find the man with how little information Hob had been able to give, but getting a breather was enough for Hob.

His head laid on the desk, the cold helping against his headache, and he just rested his eyes for a moment. He heard movement but ignored Mr. Henderson for now. Or at least he tried to, but the man kneeled down next to Hob’s chair and his hand laid on Hob’s knee. 

Blinking his eyes back open was an effort, but Hob managed and looked down at the concerned eyes looking up at him.

“Mr. Gadling, I wish could say it will be alright, but your situation doesn’t look good. But rest assured, I will do anything in my power to get you out of this.”

“I don’t think I have the money to pay your commission,” Hob was not poor. But the last years after he had fought with his friend, he had let himself go. Gambling, and throwing money at unnecessary luxuries just because he could. When he had pulled his head out of his ass, he had already spent most of his fortune and was now living like the middle class. Not bad, but not enough to pay a man wearing jewelry that could feed a family for at least a year.

“Don’t worry about money. Just focus on getting through this.”

Hob snorted, so either once he was out the man would make demands to be paid back another way, forcing Hob into his servitude, or he was just plain stupid. Saying that straight to the man’s face was not the best idea, but the man just laughed.

“Personally, I see myself as someone just trying to do the right thing, reforming the misdeeds in the justice system.”

So, delusional. But Hob could work with that. And having a delusional lawyer was better than not having one at all, so accepting the help would be best.

“The biggest problem is all we have to confirm your story is your word. Even if the police showed an ounce of competence and finds the other robber, he will tell his own story.” Hob knew all that. He didn’t know why the other even bothered, since there was no way he would get out of here. Not with everyone in the station being hellbent on making sure he went to prison. But at least he got to go to a holding cell for now and take a nap until Mr. Henderson would return the next day. 

And return he did with a big smile on his face. The police had not found the other robber, but they had found a woman hanging around the alleyway, and with a bit of pressure she had admitted to seeing the whole thing backing up Hob’s story. The officers complained and tried to poke holes in his defense, but in the end they had no other option but to accept that his actions had been to defend his own life. 

Things dragged on, Hob being pushed from one cell to the other as people discussed his fate. Mr. Henderson, please call me Edward, was there every step of the way and the only reason why Hob didn’t fell apart. 

Still, Hob couldn’t believe it when the judge finally spoke the words not guilty, and he was stepping into the sun. Till the last moment he had waited for the second shoe to drop, for someone to jump out and present new evidence sending him to jail.

Turning to Edward standing beside him, smiling brightly, he couldn’t help himself, but pulling the man into his arms and thanking him under tears. The man had been there for him, like a true friend, and if he ever needed it, Hob would be there for him in return.

He had lost his stranger, but he was not alone. There were good people out there, just waiting for him. All Hobs had to do was open his heart and accept them. 

With this being over, Hob could move on with his life. Things finally looked up. Or they did until he found out he had no longer a job because of his long absence and his old boss was unwilling to hire a killer despite Hob being proclaimed not guilty. Hob didn’t understand it, but he was unwilling to start a fight. He could find someplace else. Only words of his case had spread through the whole city, and no one was willing to hire him. And without a job there was no money which meant he would be unable to pay his upcoming rent.

But nothing he tried worked. The only positions willing to hire him wouldn’t even make a dent in his rent, even if he had three jobs. And with the housing shortage, there was no place else he could live that would be cheaper. He could move, somewhere no one knew him. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave London. This was his home, where his only friend lived. And he had to be here in a few years to be at the White Horse in case his stranger returned. 

He could ask Edward for help, but he didn’t want it to seem he was just after the other's money. Especially with Edwards business taking a major hit after a person he was defending was proven guilty. Hob tried to help as best as he could behind closed doors but knew he couldn’t do more since it wouldn’t look good on Edward if he was seen with Hob. 

It was a major point of friction. Edward didn’t care about his reputation and had no trouble inviting Hob out for dinner or even hiring him. But Hob refusing frustrated him, especially when Hob even declined his money, despite Edward knowing how much Hob was struggling. He just wanted to support his best friend and being unable to do so and just having to watch how he made himself smaller and smaller, shrinking under all negative attention focused on him angered him.

Their love for each other made them want the best for each other. And it tore their friendship apart. They were unable to spend time together without a disagreement, and then their friendship ended in a big fight. 

And it was Hob fault. He always said the wrong thing, turning away the people he cared about. First his stranger now Edward. Maybe he was meant to be alone.

But the world didn’t stop for his emotional turmoil. The rent needed to be paid, now especially since there was no longer a friend who would have a place on their sofa for Hob to sleep on. And Hob really needed to keep a roof over his head. 

He was terrified of ending back on the street. He did it once, and it was the worst time of his life. Just a nightmare of pain, suffering, anger, blood, and a desperate fight for survival. He knew getting back up once you were so far down was almost impossible. He couldn’t let it get this far. Not if there was something he could do. Even if it means he had to let go of his pride.

The first time wasn’t planed. Was just walking, trying to clear his head and finding a way out. The window was open, everything else dark, and no car in the driveway. He knew it was wrong, he should be better than this. 

He climbed the fence and slipped through the window, heart beating fast as he listened for any sign of life inside the house. Nothing. Sneaking around, he grabbed anything of value. 

Ten minutes later he was out, pockets heavy, and on his way to the pawnshop. It was not enough to pay the rent but enough to satisfy his landlord getting another week before he would be kicked out. 

It made him think about how easy it had been. And how little effort had taken to get the money. And it was not as if he hadn’t tried other options. It was them, society, not giving him a choice. If they had just given him a job, he wouldn’t be in this position. It was their fault, not his. 

And it was not as if he had hurt anyone. A few valuables were gone. And? They could replace it, their house had been nice enough they could afford a small loss like that.

Yes. It was the least all of them deserved for letting him down like this. He would just take what he needed to survive. And it was only temporary until he was back on his feet. They all thought he was a murderer, a bit of stealing was nothing in comparison.

It became a routine, going on nightly strolls and returning with his pocket full. He was good at it. Always knew when someone was home or not, avoided being seen when he made his way inside, and didn’t spend a second longer inside than he had to.

No one had to know what Hob did. Well except, the pawnshop owner, but he didn’t say anything and just gave Hob a price much under the actual value of the items. Hob was fine with that. Paying hush money was better than being ratted out to the police. Especially since the police so far had no idea he even existed. There was always breaking and entering, and he chose his targets so far apart there was no connection. The cops had better things to do than chasing a criminal that didn’t cause real harm. And Hob liked things that way. He had managed to avoid prison once, he didn’t want to risk it, especially since this time there would be no Edward bailing him out.

His rent was paid, he had food in his belly and a new coat. Life was good. Or it should be. There was still the guilt nagging at him that all of this wasn’t his. That he had stolen it and it was wrong. But with every failed attempt to find another source of income, he fell deeper into his ways. It was just too easy. Until weeks passed by without him searching for a legitimate job. 

~1989~

He started hating the man he was becoming. Or rather, he was returning to. He had thought he had become better, had changed. But now he was back at square one. Just a lowlife surviving by harming others. He didn’t want to be like this.

But there was still hope. One last chance to turn things around. Hob may not have the best moral compass – if he had any at all- but his stranger always knew right from wrong. Even before society or law. It had taken him to tell Hob for Hob to realize slavery was wrong. Today it was unthinkable, but back then it has just been how things were. And even then his stranger had known it was wrong. Hob just had to tell him, and his stranger would set him right and correct Hob’s course for the next 100 years.

Yes, all Hob had to do was meet his friend and things would be okay. So he drove to the White Horse in a car he had stolen, full of excitement in the prospect of the weight leaving his chest. He would do better, become good. To get his stranger approval.

But the longer he sat there, alone, the worse he felt. It looked like this was his stranger's answer. They were never and never would be friends. Hob was alone, on his own. There was no one who cared. No one who had any expectations, everyone had given up on him. Why should he even try? If there was no one to judge him, why not make things easy for himself?

Things escalate from there, as there is nothing holding Hob back. So what if the houses he breaks into now are not from some rich fucks but middle class as well? They had shunned him just as well. And their security was a lot laxer. Also, less to steal, but it was enough. And then there was someone home, but the house was way too good to pass up on. But it was okay, he would just be quiet. 

A good plan if not for the man of the house stepping out of his bed to get a glass of water just as Hob was clearing out their silver drawer. They looked at each other frozen, and Hob was glad for the hat and the scarf hiding most of his face. 

Before the other could too much than let out a shocked shout, Hob had jumped over the counter and tackled him to the ground, choking him until he lost conscious. When the wife appeared in the doorway, he was prepared, knocking her unconscious.

He used things found around the house to bind them to two chairs and gag them, before taking his time emptying their whole house. They would call the police anyway, Hob could at least make it worth it. And worth it, it was. He left the pawnshop with a big bundle of cash.

And if he spotted some rich folks taking a shortcut through a dark allay, well then it was their own fault, since they had begged for it. You couldn’t blame Hob for standing there with a knife demanding their valuables in a sick play on the situation that had started this whole thing. But other than his attackers back then, he was just after the money. Once he had what he wanted, he let his victims go unharmed. 

He didn’t kill. That was a line he would never cross again. And if he had to attack someone or render them unconscious, he did it with causing as little harm as possible. It was something which baffled the police and press alike, as they couldn’t decide if he was a monster or a gentleman thief. It was kinda amusing reading about people losing their mind trying to figure him out. Especially since it was that easy. He was just someone no longer following societies rules and just living by his own codex, doing whatever he pleased.

Even if this codex was completely screwed. Like right now, still blood on his knuckles from having to knock someone out who resisted, but being offended by a bunch of teens ganging up on a gangly little thing. It just strokes him wrong, seeing something like this. 

But it is not his problem. There is no need to get involved.

Or at least it wasn’t until the boy rose his head and looked straight at Hob. Dark brown eyes, with hair of the same color. But that was not what stopped Hob in his tracks. He looked just like Robyn. Well, not exactly, it was more the vibes he was giving up. But Hob couldn’t stop seeing his son laying there on the ground beaten and bloody, his tormentors surrounding him.

He moved before he really thought about it. 

His fist connected with the nose of the guy to the left. The bone crunched under the impact and the guy stumbled back, shouting in pain. That got the attention of the rest of his group, who instantly stepped in to avenge their friend. With no option to back out of this anymore, Hob just went with the flow and beat everyone getting into punching distance. They had the numbers, but they were untrained and rather stood in each other's way than taken advantage and overpowering Hob. Which leads to Hob standing between fallen bodies, breathing heavy and blood on his shirt but mostly unharmed beside a few bruises. 

Walking over to the fallen boy, he saw him flinch. Hob hadn’t meant to scare him, although the display of violence must have been frightening. But he didn’t feel comfortable leaving him sitting on the ground with unknown injuries, especially since his attackers would get up soon. 

He wanted to gain the boy's trust, but Hob had forgotten how to be comforting and soft. Hadn’t had need for it in years. Even for Edward, he had not managed to bring back that part of himself. Which was just as well because Edward liked his brash and direct way.

But now he tried, crouching down, holding out his hands and speaking softly. “It's okay. I took care of them,” well, he tried. He failed miserably, sounding more threatening than reassuring, but he had tried. How had he managed to deal with Robyn without frightening the child? He couldn’t remember. And wasn’t that sad? Not remembering this everyday life with his son, only holding some special memories close to his heart while the rest faded?

Knowing that his presence would only distress the boy more, he got up and turned to leave. He would just call the police to check things out, once he was far enough away. Only there was a tug on his pant leg and turning he saw the boy grasping the fabric with shaking fingers. The big teary eyes looking up at Hob broke his heart, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down again and pulling the boy into his arms. Crying and wailing filled the alley, but the boy clung to Hob desperately. 

Carrying him into his arm and towards Hob’s apartment, reminded Hob of the times Robyn had been unable to sleep and Hob had walked through the whole house with the child in his arm to keep him calm, while Elenore watched them with a smile. He had forgotten it until his actions pulled the memory back up.

Entering his building, he sat the boy on his sofa and retrieved his extensive med-kit. Being unable to die meant treating injuries yourself that would bring up questions, going to the hospital. He didn’t need much of it to treat the boy. The injuries had looked worse than they actually were. A bloody nose, bruising, scratched hands and knees, a gash close to his hairline that luckily didn’t need stitches, and a cracked wrist. 

Once the task was done, Hob looked at the boy awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“You want tea?” You could never go wrong with tea. The boy nodded and Hob set to work, returning with two mugs of tea.

“Thank you,” the voice was shy and soft. But at least the shaking had stopped as the kid started to relax.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hob meant it. Neither the tea nor stepping in had been much trouble, and Hob had done it for his own piece of mind. There was no need t thank him.

Hob swirled the tea in his mug, not knowing what to say. Should he give the kid money for a taxi? Take him home? Offer him the sofa for tonight? Hob didn’t know. 

Luckily for him, the boy was not as incapable of social interaction as he was.

“My name is Georgie Baldwin. What about you.”

“Hob,” he didn’t give a last name. The less the boy knew, the better it was for him with the life Hob lived.

“Thank you for saving me, Hob,” the boy put down his empty mug, hugged Hob and then left the apartment before Hob could compose himself. He looked at the closed door not understanding what exactly had happened, but then he just shrugged. Another weird day in his weird life. No need to think deeper about it. It was not as if hew would see the boy ever again.

After cleaning up the medical equipment, he laid in bed, unable to sleep. 

The encounter had brought up memories of a happier time. It made him realize just how lonely he felt. There was a gnawing emptiness in his chest, where his heart once was. He wanted someone to be there for him, to greet him when he got home, to care if he made it home. He didn’t want t be alone anymore. But every time he tried he messed up and ended up back alone. It was better to not try, and be disappointed rather than to suffer.

But knowing that didn’t fill the emptiness in his chest and no matter how much he tried he didn’t find any rest. Which left him cranky and short temperate when he stomped to the door, mug with extra strong coffee in hand, to tell whoever was on the other side to fuck off. Throwing the door open, he came face to face with the kid from yesterday.

The door banged close, as Hob didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever bullshit this was. Instead, he took a big swing of his coffee, cursed as it burned his tongue, and debated if a nice fluffy omelet was worth the effort of actually making it. 

His doorbell chimed again.

Hadn’t he been clear enough in his dismissal? But no, when he opened the door, the boy was still standing there smiling at him. What a prick. But not stupid, as he held out a bag that smelled heavenly of backed goods as bribery. 

With his stomach grumbling, Hob admitted defeat and took the bag, leaving the door open as he stepped inside. The boy had already been here, it wouldn’t do any harm to let him in. But Hob was not in the mood to play good host right now and didn’t offer any tea or coffee. Ripping open the bag, he found muffins and chocolate croissants. All things considered, it was a good bribe.

Humming happily, he dug in as the boy sat down watching him carefully. 

“So what so you want kid?” 

“It’s Georgie,” the way the kid pouted was kinda cute. He must have old ladies want to feed him all over town. “I want you to teach me how to fight.” Hob choked on the bit of croissant. He couldn’t say if it was his immortality or Georgie slapping his back that prevented him from entering the sunless lands. Whipping tears out of his eyes, he looked at the kid as if he had lost his mind.

“Are you completely crazy? Why would you ask me?”

 “The way you fought was amazing. Please, I want to be able to do it too.”

“Hard pass. Why the heck should I teach a brat?”

“I can pay you,” the kid dove for his pocket and placed a stack of bills on the table. It was no small amount. So, a rich brat. Well, it was not as Hob really needed money with how well his business was going. And he would rather not involve the kid by accident. If he went down for his actions it was one thing but dragging a kid down with him was completely different. And if he gave in now, he just knew the kid would one day rob houses side by side with him.

“Pass. Go home kid. You are young and have a bright life ahead of you. There is no need to get involved with the likes of me.”

“But what if they come back?! I need to be able to defend myself,” Hob just groaned as this was just playing unfair. Especially since it was a fair point. The bullies had found him once, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t do worse when Hob was not close by to step in. It was just unfair. Hob was not responsible for the kid, could barely remember his name. But he had made it his responsibility when he stepped in. The least he could do was see things through now.

“Okay fine. I will teach you self-defense. Nothing more. And you will stay out of my business.”

“Deal,” the kid smiled brightly as he held out his hand for Hob to shake. Knowing that one day he would regret this Hob took the offered hand.