#but like i'm still not sure it could be anything at this point

[cryptidcasanova]

Charcoal Smudges

Robert "Bob" Reynolds/The Void x Reader

Summary: Bob thinks he's in control. At least…until you get involved. 

Warnings: Angst, cannon level violence, mutual pining. I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

Words: 5k

I've been foaming at the mouth. Someone sedate me.

The Watchtower was spacious. It was a beacon of hope where the Avengers once stood. But you felt you were drowning.

The missions weren’t going as smoothly as the team had hoped. When it came to news headlines, everybody was catching strays. Everyone was a critic.

Bob may have had a point all along. It did feel like a void.

Your myriad of thoughts was dark, expansive, and all-consuming. You were helping people, sure, but you were tired…not that you would tell anyone. You didn’t push it down the same way Yelena did, nor did you have wild outbursts like John.

But on difficult nights, you would pull out an old tobacco tin from under your bed. Your dad used to make the prettiest charcoal pictures. But you took time to try and recreate his old drawings from memory, and it kept the demons at bay. Sometimes, you kept at it until your eyes burned, until you were slumped over the old sketchbook.

You weren’t any good at it. The lines were too dark, and the pictures were smudged in the wrong places. But you kept trying. The cleaner your hands, the better the day. But some nights were real bad, and the charcoal would dig into your fingerprints and smear across your cheek. What you were trying to scrub away, you wouldn’t name.

On those nights, you could swear the shadows in your room were darker.

You made an effort to participate with the group. You joined in on late-night movies where Alexi was bound to burn the popcorn. You guided Ava through technical documents, relaying the best ways to bypass encrypted files and store copies of data without the risk of frying the system. Even Bob, who was careful and reserved, offered to help pick up the latest take-out order. You would be a monster not to accept his help.

Even with Valentina keeping the group in the spotlight, you preferred the old Buick for late-night errands. You had a hard time breaking out of keeping a low profile. Bob was still skittish. His memory teeter-tottered on a knife’s edge, and even in those uncertain times, you could rely on the careful smiles and quiet observations. Bob was sincere. He was kind.

“Drawing anything good?” he whispered from the passenger seat.

Bob’s eyes flitted to your hands before settling on the old tape player. You took a moment to look at your hand on the steering wheel as you peeled through a green light. You hadn’t had the time to think about washing up before your late-night run. A sad smile stole at your lips.

“I don’t remember,” you offered just as quietly.

And truly, you didn’t. Overwhelmed with the week as a whole, you were blindly drawing lines and sketching in dark spaces. Everyone had their nightmares. Everyone had their battles, and you tried to relax your shoulders. Little drawings couldn’t harm you. You shrugged as you pulled up to the curb.

“Just feeling it out. Maybe one day I’ll have a masterpiece to show you.”

“Oh. R-right, yeah,” Bob muttered.

But you missed the hint of something in his eye as he turned away, his hands tugging at the lap belt. And you missed it again while you handed him the box of fried rice, your fingers brushing against his.

It was a bad night. You remembered dozing off while laying on your belly and drawing on your bed. You shouldn’t have been surprised that the midnight snacks and fucked up sleep schedule gave you bad dreams.

Well, not bad dreams. Just one. One dream that made your insides ache. You were lost and in the dark, the pitch black cocooning you. There was no place for light or peace; all you had were your lonely thoughts. You could reach out and touch, but there was nothing there. Your hands were shaking as you clasped them together. There was no point in walking around, no point in calling out. You were alone. Helpless.

Maybe you were meant to be. That thought stayed with you.

You were enveloped in the darkness, fatigue tugging at you even in your dreams. And then, right when you were on the cusp of oblivion, you heard the rustling of fabric.

It was in your head. You were finally losing it. You were all alone-

Until the weight of a cloak dropped around your shoulders.

An empty feeling lingered for days.

Bad guys were busted, justice was served, and you were on autopilot. You offered to hang back on the next mission and thought it would be the perfect time for redecorating. Something to distract yourself.

“You mean, like painting?” Bob asked, stopping his pacing in the kitchen. He had been looking for a box of Wheaties you knew John threw out the night before. “We…we can do that?”

The owlish tilt of his head caught your attention. Your nose scrunched with mild amusement. You had been noticing those little mannerisms of his more and more.

“Hmm?” You hummed, the hint of a question in your tone. “Well, it’s not like anyone can stop us.”

Bob stood there for a moment, almost mumbling under his breath. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

And a lightbulb flashed.

“Do you wanna come with me?”

There was a flicker of color in his cheeks. “Oh, uh, you don’t have to. I mean -”

But your growing smile and unwavering gaze pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Bob finally pushed his hair back, taking a steadying breath.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

And that’s how you two ended up comparing paint swatches at the hardware store. Shoulder to shoulder, you debated the fundamental differences between cream and eggshell.

You noticed how Bob kept gravitating to a stormy blue. Funny. It was akin to how his eyes looked after long days of staring out the Watchtower. Not that you had noticed.

But you could see anxiety rippling through him as he looked at the tape, different primers, and finishes on the paint. You could see the compounding impact it had on him in real-time.

“I thought it’d be easier,” he whispered with a frown. “It’s - it’s too much.”

You stepped forward, letting your paint swatches scatter to the ground.

“Hey,” you urged, reaching for his shoulder. “We can just pick a color.” Bob’s shoulders were rounded in, and his head dropped slightly. He was warm, probably warmer still with a sweatshirt on. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, yeah?”

And his eyes danced from one of yours to the other. Oh. And the storm in his eyes was uncanny.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect.” He repeated at last.

You hummed out a sigh of relief.

“In fact,” you urged, “I hope it’s not perfect. Then we can come back here and try again. It’ll be fun.” You shrugged. Bob thought about it, debating with a question long enough for you to notice his fingers twitching.

“You want to come back here?” he thought. “With me?”

His eyes drifted down to the toothy smile you offered. His look was like you had unlocked some secret treasure. You didn’t hesitate to seize the moment.

“Who else would I invite? Alexi has no taste. He’s been wearing the same red suit for decades.”

Bob huffed out a hint of a laugh at that. You almost forgot about the aching, empty feeling in your chest. A moment of quiet passed between you, glancing down at the stack of swatches covering the ground and the disgruntled sales associate walking your way.

“You good?” You thought to ask.

Your hand was warm-no, he was warm. Noticing you were still holding to him, you let your hand slip down his arm before letting go. You cleared your throat. He watched the movement before taking his own tentative step back.

“Yeah,” he assured. There was a hint of color in his cheeks. “All good.”

Blue paint was speckled all over your clothes. It was on your arms. Hell, it was probably in your hair. And in the quiet, you listened to an album that Bob put on while pushing all his furniture to the middle of the room. It was a trainwreck, an absolute disaster. You should have had supervision. And you were having the best time.

And you two painted in silence, listening to the rock tunes.

“Sorry,” he mumbled at some point, but you waved it off.

“I don’t mind,” you hummed, pulling a rogue paint bristle off the wall. “I don’t mind if there’s not much to say.”

And Bob didn’t quite know how to show his appreciation. In his head, it was loud enough already.

That night, you didn’t have to reach for the sticks of charcoal under the bed. There were no demons to keep at bay. Your paint cans lie abandoned in a pile next to the door, with an unspoken promise behind who would help you paint your room.

It was inevitable that your light-night thoughts drifted back to careful eyes and brown curls.

The dream came back.

Dread didn’t tug at the corners of your mind this time. Shame didn’t grab root and drag you into despair. But the darkness was welcome, a quiet, constant companion. This time, you didn’t fear what you couldn’t see. You stood, feet on solid ground, and started walking around in the vast bleakness. At first, your strides were careful. You didn’t know what you would run into. But there was nothing. In the dark, there was nothing. There was nothing to fear.

Silent steps turned brave. Brave strides turned to running, wanting to feel the burn in your lungs. And you ran until - until you couldn’t touch the floor anymore. That, too, was gone, and walking was meaningless. There was no point, no need to waste your stamina.

Were your eyes open? Closed? Did it matter?

You were suspended in nothing. You were nothing.

And…and it was okay. It was alright. There was a tugging feeling even, and you reached out, not expecting something to reach back.

But something did. Fingers entwining with your own, grasping firmly but not too tight. Your eyes searching, but not seeing. And finally, the fall of a breath. Low, quiet even in the dark. Golden eyes peering back at you.

You woke up with your face pressed against the page of the sketchbook. A piece of charcoal was loose in your grasp, your hand darkened with markings. And you felt…well, you felt like you were missing something.

The rasp of a soft knock at your door stole your attention. After a moment, you pulled yourself up, shuffling to the door with a yawn.

“H-hey.” Bob smiled as the door swung open. And a curious expression lingered on his face as he took you in. “Did you just get up?”

“Good morning,” you replied, a sleepy grin on your cheeks. He noted it, his lazy grin threatening to reel you in.

“I was gonna see if you wanted lunch. I making sandwiches. Didn’t know if you like bologna. Uh. Do you?”

You pulled the door open wider, leaning against the frame. Bob’s eyes moved away from you, tilting his head into view of your room.

“I don’t know the last time I’ve had bologna.” You thought, rubbing your eyes. Was it already lunchtime? You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in so late. It felt like you had been hit by a truck.

“Oh, it’s awful,” Bob warned, but it was with a smile. Charming. He was charming. “But I grew up with it, so it’s something of a comfort food…And I might have already made you one.” He admitted, sheepishly pulling one hand through his hair. The other, which had been cleverly hidden behind his back, pulled forward a plate with two sandwiches. “B-but I can come back later, you know. So it’s no big -”

“I’d love one.”

It was quick, more to yourself than to him, but he heard it all the same.

You were more embarrassed to think it was because Bob liked it. He liked it, and he thought of you while making it. Was it getting warm in here? Clearing your throat, you pulled back.

“Come on in,” you offered. “I’ll clean this up,” you put your palms up to show off the crime scene before pointing your thumb toward the bathroom. “And I’ll be right out.”

You stepped away and closer to the bathroom before you could embarrass yourself further. No, no. You were fine. Everything was fine.

But everything was not fine.

Because you couldn’t see the delicate way Bob stepped into your room, his heart fluttering. You didn’t see his hands clench up or watch his eyes scan over the open sketchbook on your bed. And you didn’t see the dark reflection staring back at him, practically jumping off the page. The subtle glow of gold in his eyes wasn’t so subtle now. Something was happening.

And Bob was…well, Bob did what he did best. He panicked.

He was long gone when you turned off the sink and left the bathroom. You let the towel in your hands drop. The only things that remained were the untouched sandwiches and a sketch smeared into nothing.

Little did you know it was the start of something much bigger.

Bob avoided you. Like the plague. He kept to himself and his books. He was talking to himself again.

He ignored you until the others returned, basking in their loud, abrasive attitudes. The ache in your belly only grew as you watched him walk by you, skirting around you while you tried to say hi.

Did you have the heart to confront him? Had you done something wrong?

“Give him time,” Yelena offered one night. “He is like a wet cat now. No use trying to capture him.”

Not that it made you feel any better.

It didn’t help that you knew that everyone else knew. How could they not with your rag-tag bunch? And no one felt qualified enough to intervene.

Bob…he didn’t want to hurt you. He just didn’t know what to do. He hung around Ava and John more, handling their snarky digs and half-assed attempts at including him because it was easier than admitting he felt something he shouldn’t. He felt something he couldn’t afford.

And you were the collateral damage.

He didn’t mean for it to cause you to throw yourself back into your work. And he didn’t mean for it to get you captured.

“Bob?” Yelena yelled, bursting into his room in the middle of the night. He jumped from a dead sleep, foggy as he came to. “Bob!”

“What’s - is there a fire?” He mumbled with those doe eyes.

Why else would she be so alarmed? He could hear the commotion outside his room, hear the shuffling of gear. What time was it?

“No fire. There’s no fire.” Yelena shushed him, but he was more distraught by the different voices talking over each other in the hall. Something was thrown. “Here, shush. Listen -” She persisted, pulling herself over to him to keep him calm.

But it was too late. Bob heard your name among the ruckus. Your recon mission with Ava fell apart; Ava was the only one who checked in. Something about being outnumbered. Something about being all alone. And that’s all he could hear.

You were all alone.

And he pulled himself up, only for Yelena to push him back down again.

“Hey, hey,” she snapped. “It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna find her.” Her voice was softer.

But Bob knew a lie when he heard one.

“W-where?” He panicked. Adrenaline spiked, his blood turning to ice. “Where are they?”

“What?” Yelena asked harshly.

“Where?”

“The check-in was somewhere outside Vegas-” And her words fell short, not realizing the change in his cadence.

His eyes were...well, she wasn’t looking at Bob anymore. And in a blink, she wasn’t looking at anything anymore.

And all that was left behind was the imprint of a shadow fading into the sheets.

You didn’t think twice about pushing Ghost outside when the sirens went off. Her powers would be useless if she got too close to the noise. But it meant she was locked outside the gated campus, and you were locked inside.

You could still hear the sirens as the door closed in front of you. But Ava had the data, and dammit, you were proud that she was able to collapse their network from the inside. She really was listening to your advice.

The smuggler’s den was crude, but they were tough.  They brought in all kinds of military-grade equipment and gear from outside the states. And you could hear footsteps closing in.

You were locked in. Trapped.

Time to get going.  Leveling your gun, you scoured the hallway for another exit strategy. There were so many rooms, a puzzle of pathways and ventilation tunnels if you could just -

“We’ll smoke her out.”

“No, we need her alive. Get the lights.”

No. Shit -  you took to the closest room when the building went dark. You bashed your thigh against a table and stopped. There were no emergency lights overhead and no red exit signs. This place was definitely not up to code.

But it was familiar to you in its way.

In the dark, you had found bitter solitude and unspeakable fear. You had felt an overwhelming peace and notion of comfort. It was calming, like the strokes of charcoal against the page. Filling in the empty space with shadows.

But now, all you felt was anger. This was different. The darkness was an adversary, and you could hear the clunk of footsteps coming down the hall. In the dark, you were trapped like a mouse in a cage, waiting for the cat - heavily armed smugglers - to strike you down.

Cowards.

You were out in the open. Feeling around blindly, you scowled at the obstacles. Chairs lined a long table, and there were cabinets against the walls. Nothing big enough to climb in. Nowhere to hide. But you kept searching, feeling around. And when you felt another door at your back, you turned the handle before hearing voices at the other end of the room.

“We have a visual -”

And stumbling through the door, you made a blind run for it. And you were frustrated, bashing into more chairs and tripping over your feet.

When footsteps rushed in, you blindly shot out in the direction of the noise before more shots echoed through the room. And your heart ached. You couldn’t go down without a fight, not now. Not against some brutes with shipping data. Not after everything you had done.

Not when this was your idea - when you needed to get as far away from the Watchtower as possible.

Not when - a renegade shot struck your shoulder, reeling you back. You were frantic, emptying your gun into the dark. The bastards.

But even with your aim and your anger, the thugs could see with their night vision goggles. And you couldn’t. You heard it over the roar of your own breathing; one man got too close. You lunged on instinct, rolling around and landing a punch to his throat, feral for escape, before being pulled off.

“No!” One man commanded. “Alive - we need her alive.”

But the man you hit was angry. In a cowardly display, the man charged, coughing and staggering, landing a hit to your stomach. You struggled for breath, clawing back and fighting for footing.

“Alive!” The other man ordered.

There were too many of them. There were too many of them, and a fear bubbled up your throat.

This was your idea. It was your idea to throw yourself into the mission and distract yourself from...Well, there was no use in denying it now.

Your belly ached. Your heart was in ribbons. You did this to try to forget how desperately you missed Bob. You missed the scrunch of his nose and the meticulous way he ate popcorn one kernel at a time. You missed his bad jokes and the clumsy way he filled the dishwasher. You missed the smell of his mahogany shampoo and the underlying ozone that wouldn’t wash away.

Goddammit.

You couldn’t die down here.

But your spiraling thoughts had to come to a messy halt. In this case, it was in the form of the building shaking all around you, like it had been struck by a meteor shower. The men called out with fright, then screamed.

You knew this part. The lights would come on, and Ava would come barreling in at any moment. So you waited. And waited.

But it never came. The screams stopped mid-breath. The handprints digging into your arms were gone in a flash. The heavy breaths and stomping steps disappeared. Perking up with a groan, you dragged your feet forward. What was this?

And then déjà vu jolted through you.

You were dreaming. You must have fallen asleep or maybe been knocked out cold.

You were in the dark, but you weren’t alone.

“Where are you?” You called out bravely, squaring your shoulders. You knew what was lurking in the shadows. “Show yourself!”

But the emptiness stretched on. You stepped around in a circle. Your feet were still firmly planted on the ground. This was your dream. This was your attachment latching into the hooks of your subconscious. You were losing it.

“You’re reckless.”

It was a simple observation. One you dared laugh at.

“Reckless,” you mirrored with a snicker. “Hopeless. Delusional. Desperate. Isn't that why you're here? Isn't that what you feed on?”

Listing off your inner thoughts, feelings you wouldn’t admit when awake. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Engaging now wouldn’t make any difference.

“No.” It was a warning. “I feel it.”

The slow timber of words carried a weight all their own. Each syllable was intentional, pronounced. But feel it? Feel what? You turned in the dark.

“I’m not naïve to what he feels.” But this wasn’t Bob. It was the other closing in.

“Oh, Robert. He has hero dreams. Dreams of pushing me away. Thinking you could forget about me.”

His words were tormenting, chastising his counterpart.

In your dreams, this monster never spoke to you. You were used to quiet, lingering touches. You were used to watching from the rafters. And then there was a firm pause. Your fingers flexed. The reverberations of his words in your head were heavy.

“He will fail you. He can’t keep you safe.” he continued.

He was riling you up, and the proximity was not lost on you.

“Your shame is harrowing. Ongoing. Buried, deep in your subconscious.” The swish of fabric behind you was intentional. He was urging you to tilt your head. He was close now, hovering right over your shoulder. And then a whisper. “It’s precious. Don’t you want to know what it is?”

Goosebumps littered up your arms.

No.

“You do.” He coaxed.

No.

“You know. You already know why I can’t leave,” and feeling hot under the collar, uncomfortable at the bluntness, you gave in. Tilting your chin up, two pinpricks stared back. Unblinking. Unfazed.

He was frightening.

“You care for him,” he pressed. You couldn’t hide even if you wanted to. “All of him. And that means you care for -”

“Void.” Your call was a warning.

Raising your hand defensively, you turned to face him head-on. And where your hand should have caught nothing but air, it rested against the hard expanse of his abdomen. You took a sobering breath. It was too close, too human.

He closed his eyes briefly, satisfied, before finding yours again. There was no heartbeat. But there was a flex of movement, of his silhouette under your fingertips.

“And why wouldn’t you?” He tormented. “When my name is so sweet from your lips. You're reckless," he reminded. "You care.”

And shame zipped up your spine. That was it; he was your shame.

“You hurt him.” You deflected, thinking of Bob.

“We hurt each other.” Void acknowledged carefully, head tilting ever so slightly. Then, shifting closer, added, “But I am not the one who left you.”

And it felt like another jab. You were waiting for the pin to drop, for you to wake up from this dream. There was no other explanation for it. It wasn’t real.

You pulled your hand back, embarrassed and nervous, only to be stopped as his grip clasped over yours. He wasn’t warm, not like Bob. He wasn’t cold, like the ice in your veins. Your eyes looked where you could imagine his hands were before letting them drift up.

Gold light peered back. Where a face should be. Too human. And your free hand carefully reached up, grasping where you could imagine the curve of a jaw. Your breath caught in your throat when you found it. The touch was grounding.

“And he is not the one who found you.”

Silence.

“Then why are you here?” You challenged, prodding for an answer. “You could have left me in the dark.”

Pinhole eyes narrowed.

“You called for me. Not him,” The admission held a heavy weight. “You called. For me.”

Your cheeks were warm. He spoke it like it was a siren's call. And it was dangerous.

“You care.” You realized, whispering now. “You feel.”

“What I feel is irrelevant.”

But that wasn’t true. You were convinced he could see your smug expression even in the pitch-black room.

“You’re bleeding.”

Ah. Deflecting again. You knew that game but were through with the charade.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I do care. You win. I care about Bob. I care about his fucked up mind. So sure, I care about you - even if you destroy and create loathing and shame. Perhaps that’s my shame.” You admitted, pulling your hand away from his face.

It wasn’t real.

And it was time to wake up.

“This has been nice,” you admitted. “But if I’m going to die alone in the desert, I better face it.”

The Void offered no words of comfort. You weren’t expecting any. And as you stepped back and out of his hold, the cold seeped in.

Your breathing was uneasy, and the dull ache in your shoulder bloomed into hot pain. You were bleeding. The lights flickered on. The lights…

And he was still there, a dark figure in an empty room. Where there had been men, dark shadows cast along the ground. There was a tick in your jaw. You felt seasick.

And you realized then that it wasn’t a dream. Stoic and observant, the Void was still. His curled hair and the shape of his nose were too uncanny. Pinhole eyes stared back at you even then.

You hiccupped out an uneasy breath. Emotion pummeled into you. Fear. Abandonment. Solitude. Pain. Hope. No. NO.

He didn’t make a move, but observed. And then, at last, the low call of your name had you buckling at the knees.

He had been there all along, skirting around your mind. He met you in the dark, draping his cape around you and holding you in the quiet moments between sleep and wakefulness.

The Void was real. A tangible threat. Bob knew it. And then it clicked; that was why he pushed you away.

A hand reached out.

You had borne witness to the destruction and affliction it caused, and yet…

“You’re bleeding.”

And as you looked down from where his hand extended, red blossomed from the top of your shoulder down to your navel. Oh god.

“Let me,” He stopped, grounding the words. “Let me in.”

It was an offer of help, and you didn't think. You didn’t look up as you nodded. The movement was slow, slight, but deliberate. And he took action before you could blink.

A firm hand to the wound was all it took, the other wrapping around your hip to keep you planted. And in front of your eyes, inky tendrils replaced the bloodied stain. Where the Void’s touch lingered, it mimicked the charcoal smudges from your sketches.

He was your bad dreams and late nights. He was there the whole time, carving a hole for himself. And it left behind an imprint for you to remember.

He will fail you. He can’t keep you safe.

But now you could read between the lines.

“You can’t keep me safe either.” You whispered. He was no hero. No savior - he said it himself.

The grip tightened at your hip, his hair clouding your peripheral vision. He was pulling closer, the hand at your shoulder moving to hook under your chin. He was forcing your attention on him. Bob might have put up a fight, but the Void was inevitable. He wasn’t going anywhere.

And as he drew closer, you smelled it.

Mahogany and ozone. Bob was there, too. The visage changed.

In front of your eyes, the Void flickered in and out of focus. You could see all of them like frames in a set of photos.

The Void. Bob Reynolds. Sentry. Powerful blue eyes, golden eyes, and pinhole eyes locked in. They were drawing closer still until you were a breath apart. And before you were swept under the current, the three of their voices overlapped in unison.

It was not a kiss, but just on the cusp. It was a promise.

“You don’t know what I am capable of.”

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 6

Despite first impressions, Old Man Connie was a pretty okay guy. He had a devil-may-care attitude and a really dry personality. Danny just knew that he was going to get along with this man, even if he'd hated him for the first little bit.

No, buying him two churros had nothing to do with it.

"So," Old Man Connie started a while later, just as Danny finished the last of his second churro, "What's a thing like you doin' so far from home?"

Danny didn't miss a beat this time. "No idea what you're talking about, Old Man."

"I'm not old," he growled, like that would do anything, "And you can cut the shit, we're the only ones privy to this conversation."

Danny pointedly looked at the ten other people in the square.

"I have a barrier up, smar'ass. No one I don't want to hear is going to hear. Now, I'll only ask once more: What is a Realms Being doin' so far from home."

"'Realms Being'?" he huffed chuckle, "You're not disproving those 'old man' allegations, Old Man. No one calls us Realms Beings anymore."

"So you admit it, then?"

"I'm indulging the whims of my elders."

Old Man Connie smacked his head for that. He laughed.

"Be serious, brat."

"Don' wanna."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'd rather not revisit my last month in the States, thank you very much." Old man Connie blinked and Danny had a small realization. "When was the last time you check what was going on in the US?"

Old Man Connie scoffed. "That magic hellhole? I avoid it unless absolutely necessary. Why?"

"You have no idea..?" He couldn't explain why, but he started laughing. Old Man Connie had no idea. Most people outside the US and Canada had no idea because it didn't directly impact them! It wasn't their country instating new laws. It wasn't their people being dragged, kicking and screaming and fighting for their afterlives, into laboratories! Why would anyone know more than a passing word? After all, it's just another fucked up thing the US Government was doing, and Canada was going along with it!

He started crying, laughter choking his sobs in his throat. He bend over, somewhere between dry-heaving and hyperventilating.

"Jesus- kid! Are you- What's?"

No one seemed to notice them. Danny, having a panic attack on the edge of a fountain with churro wrappers at his feet. Old Man Connie faintly trying to get him to breathe, which was easier said than done. Then, two girls past.

"¿Has oído lo que están haciendo los EE.UU.?"

"¿Esos tipos? ¿No pueden callarse de una vez?"

"¿No es cierto? Pero, como, en realidad es un poco de miedo."

"¿De verdad?"

"Sí. He oído que la gente está desapareciendo, como, a gran escala."

"¡¿Qué?! ¿Qué está pasando?"

"Aparentemente una nueva ley que aprobaron fue el catalizador."

The two girls left their range of hearing, but they'd done Danny the favor of explaining while he was incapacitated.

"Fuck," Old Man Connie summed up pretty well, "Fuck, that's- Is it?"

"They called for my help," Danny whispered into his knees, the nightmares he'd had dredging themselves to the forefront of his mind, blocking his vision with flashes of the ghosts he'd fought for a year, "I was supposed to help them, but I'm a coward and I hid!"

Old Man Connie was obviously not the best at dealing with children, but he got points for doing his best. "I'll fix this."

"You can't."

"I can."

Danny pushed him away, standing up, "You can't!" He let invisibility cover him as he quickly picked up his bag and flew away for Old Man Connie.

He didn't get outside the city limits, but he was far enough away that he was sure Old Man Connie wouldn't be able to follow him. Or that he'd at least get the hint and leave him alone.

There was still no messages from Jazz or anyone, so he didn't send them any. He didn't want to burden any of them with a stupid panic attack, either. He could get over it himself. He'd done it before and he'd do it again.

A chihuahua walked up to where he was leaning against a wall and sat down, it's brown eyes boring into him.

He quickly did his best to gain control of himself again. "H-hello."

"¡Hola, amigo mío!" the chihuahua said.

Danny blinked, taken aback. "Um..."

"I heard you were upset, so I came over to check on you."

Again, Danny said, "Um..." Was this a new power? 'Cause he knew for a fact that he couldn't understand animals before.

"My name's Chico, but you can call me Chi."

"Danny. Call me Danny."

"Short for Daniel, right?" Chico stood up and trotted closer like a damn pony. "I'm in you're head, man!"

Danny shook his head. "I'm sorry, what are you?"

Chico clicked his tongue in admonishment. "You need to do your research, man. I'm like you!"

"Like...me?"

"Yeah! Well, kinda. I'm an alebrije."

Danny was fairly confident in his knowledge that alebrije were supposed to be colorful. Not... beige.

Chico bit his hand. "¡Zorra! Just 'cause I'm small don't mean I ain't strong."

"That's not at all what I was thinking!" he shouted back, shaking his hand back and forth to get Chico to let go. When he finally did, he cradled his hand close, despite the wound already closing up.

Chico licked Danny's green-flaked blood from his maw, revealing the inside of his moth to be less dog-like than his outward appearance assumed. "Don't call me beige."

Danny huffed. It was no use arguing with a dog...alebrije.

"Whatever," he said, standing back up and hoisting his duffel bag over his shoulder. He needed to get going if he wanted to meet up with Dani before she left Guatemala.

Chico trotted after him. "Where'd'ya think you're goin'?"

"To meet my sister."

"Can I come?"

Danny sighed. "Can I stop you?"

"Nope!"

"Fine."

Part 8

Translation 1 - Spanish: Did you hear what the US is doing? Translation 2 - Spanish: Ugh, those guys? Can't they just shut up about themselves for once? Translation 3 - Spanish: Right? But, like, it's actually kinda scary. Translation 4 - Spanish: Really? Translation 5 - Spanish: Yeah. I heard that people are going missing on, like, a huge scale. Translation 6 - Spanish: What?! What's going on? Translation 7 - Spanish: Apparently some new law they passed was the catalyst for it. Translation 8 - Spanish: Hello, my friend! Translation 9 - Spanish: Bitch!

[seokminfilm]

not alone — lee seokmin

PAIRING 𐂴 lee seokmin x reader

TAGS & WARNINGS 𐂴 non-idol au, hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety, mentions of cuts/blood (reader scratches their knuckles hard enough to draw blood ☹), kissing, physical touch, crying, soft seokmin hours are back!!, protective seokmin

SUMMARY 𐂴 nothing could go unnoticed by seokmin, especially when it came to you.

LYR'S SIDENOTES 𐂴 requested by my dear dear augustine (@hanniescookie)!! this is going to be a drabble of sorts (idk when the next long fic will be tbh...still trying to figure out some things) but i'm gonna pack as much comfort and sweetness as i can into it! love this genre of seokmin (soft seokmin ftw) and i hope you guys do too! love you all 💗

(edit: you can't really call this a drabble because it's the same length as most of my normal fics are 🧍lmao anyways)

NOW PLAYING 𐂴 ひとりじゃない (seventeen)

WORD COUNT 542 𐂴 FOR @kstrucknet

as seokmin sat on the couch next to you, he glanced down at your busy hands, frowning slightly as he saw your fingers scratch your delicate skin.

the sizzle of food and discussion from seokmin's family rang in the background of your ears, but it all sounded fuzzy to you—the anxiety building up in your head was enough to blur all of it out. you felt frozen, unable to move or do anything as you spaced out.

your fingers had a mind of their own, scratching at your knuckles without remorse as they began to turn red. you didn't think you were doing it too obviously, but seokmin knew.

he had noticed the moment you entered his parent's home; you were nervous about meeting them, and even if it didn't show on your face, it showed with how vicariously you scratched at your soft knuckles.

seokmin couldn't stand it, seeing you so nervous and worked up. it made him angry, mainly because you hurt yourself. seeing those cuts well up on your knuckles made his heart break.

seokmin couldn't sit in silence while you made yourself suffer—he wouldn't.

"please don't do that." seokmin's voice is pained, and he looks at you with worry in his eyes as he grabs both of your hands.

"do what?" you ask, hoping he hasn't caught on to your coping mechanism. sure, it hurt, but at least it was keeping you focused on something.

"baby, you're scratching at your knuckles again." seokmin points out, and your head falls in shame, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

seokmin watches you with a soft expression, hand going to your back as he guides you to stand up. "let's get some fresh air."

"mom, we're going outside for a second." seokmin leads you to the door after getting the okay from his mother, and the two of you sit on the steps of the house, letting the quietness of the neighborhood soak up all the unsaid words and anxiety.

"baby, i hate seeing you hurt yourself like that. you scratch so hard you draw blood," seokmin frowns, not because he's angry at you, but because he's angry at the anxiety eating at you.

"i'm sorry, i'm just..." you pause, wind hitting your face and nearly knocking the fleeting breath from you. "i'm really nervous."

"i know you are, and that's okay. you don't have to hurt yourself because of that, though." seokmin runs a hand through your hair, hand sliding under your jaw to cup your cheek.

smiling, tears cloud your vision, and you nod, falling into seokmin as he kisses your forehead. "i'm sorry."

"don't apologize." seokmin's voice is warm yet firm, and you stare up at him, nodding. "we're going to have fun. plus, my parents already love you anyway."

nodding again, you let seokmin cup your cheeks once more while kissing you. his lips are warm and sugary on yours as the setting sun washes over the both of you and when you pull away, you see seokmin in a whole new light.

nothing went unnoticed by him. he knew what you were feeling and how you would deal with it. you didn't have to go through it alone. seokmin was always right there.

[sempiternalmuze]

Running Through the Halls of Your Haunted Home

Jack Abbott x doctor!Reader who has some problems being loved

tags: dr. jack abbott x female!reader, hurt comfort, reader runs away for a bit (story takes place when shes back), Robby being Jacks best friend, age/jobs not really established, implied not great childhood for reader, jack loves her ohmygod??, jack would never leave her tbh, a bit more flowery than i'm used to writing so let me know, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

Five months. That was the timeframe Robby had laid out for you when you'd came to him a few days after Christmas, explaining that you needed a break, need time away from the Pitt, the city, the state. He'd been kind enough to not ask too many questions, but you knew he'd hear it sooner than later directly from Jack during one of their therapy sessions.

So three days after Christmas you packed your bag, grabbed your passport, and changed your number. From one day to the next you had gone from Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center to Portel, Brazil with Doctors Without Borders.

And you lived. You took the time you needed to find your peace again, to pick up the pieces that you had left behind in the dusty apartment Jack and you had shared.

But now it was May-- and Robbie was calling your number every few days. And today when you answered he'd sounded at about wit's end.

"Time's up kid, we need you back here." He sighed, and you could almost see his hand running over his face, tired and no doubt thinking about a fourth—fifth—coffee.

You had stayed silent for a moment, playing with the sheet of your hammock. You glanced at the tents set up by the river, kids running around in a game of tag, parents watching from the sides as they spoke to the other doctors on your crew.

"What if I told you I liked it here more? Then what?" You said, glancing back at the water.

Robby lets out a throaty laugh, one that pulls you away and forces you back to the shuffle of the Pitt. "Because if you did, you would've just said that."

It's a valid point— and true. You wouldn't be asking, wouldn't be hoping he'd tell you any different. You probably would have blocked him, sent an email to Gloria and moved on with your life.

"And I also know what you've got waiting." He whispered. And he was right. You wouldn't just leave like that and not tell Jack. The only reason you had been able to do it the first time was because you knew it was temporary, and small fold in the story you two shared.

"How is he?" The weight was heavy on your shoulders, an invisible force that only left in the depths of night and that was if you were tired enough to fall asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow. Jack was strong, and smart. He'd been through so much worse than a girl who was afraid.

"Well...he visits the roof a lot more now. The first few weeks were...well they were real bad kid." He pauses, like considering what would be too much to tell you. "I offered him to come stay with me, get away from the apartment, but he said he liked it. It gave him a reason to hold on."

Reasons to hold, how very Jack Abbott of him. To want to have hope, to find the reasons even though he wasn't sure where any of it would lead.

"He'd doing better now, I don't have to act like a hostage negotiator too much these days. He comes out to the park with us after work and he makes jokes with the new med students. But he misses you, a lot."

You nodded with a hum into the phone. The sun was so peaceful this time of day, it bounced off the water and on to your skin. You let your eyes close and let your mind drift back to those months ago, from even before the fight, to when things were still solid between the two of you.

Walks in the park after a long shift, hands intertwined as he poked fun at you for your decisions during a shift. The nights spent in bed, room slightly too cold because otherwise you'd burn up with his body heat. Even on the days when it was hard, when his active duty days caught up to him, there was still something to have, because he'd let you hold him, let himself talk and talk about the people and the days of roughing it, of the bad things he saw, of the pain of a leg that was no longer attached to his physical being.

"Kid, I gotta let Gloria know by tonight. Are you back?" Robby's voice broke through the speaker with a crack of static.

"Of course I am Robby."

Now you were running through the airport, hair a mess, sanity hardly in tact. Cassie had been kind enough to come grab you after dropping off Harrison with Chad for the weekend. Today and tomorrow would be your days to get settled, then straight back to it on Monday.

"I've missed you so much!" She squealed, arms wrapped around your center tightly. "You have no idea how much it sucks to have to take on that waiting room with myself and Javadi." She laughs.

"Oh I bet, what would you ever do without me?" You laughed. You held her tight before you both crawled into the car. She started the engine, waving off some security yelling at her and took off.

"How was it?" She asks, face covered in excitement.

"It was amazing Cassie. The people, the pace, the location, all of it was just-perfect." You sigh and throw your head back. "I think it was exactly what I needed."

"That's great." She says. Her tone tells you that there's something else, something on her mind that she isn't saying out loud.

It takes about three minutes of uncomfortable silence and a red traffic light for her to turn to you. "Have you talked to him?"

Cassie was one of about four people who definitely knew what was going on between you and Jack, one of a few who knew lengths you'd go for one another. Her tone is soft, prodding but not overstepping.

"No, Cass I...I didn't want to do anything that might...I don't know, hurt more than it already would?" You sighed. You covered your face with your hands. "I felt horrible, for taking off on him the way I did. But I just...I knew that he'd make me stay."

Cass nods along, listening. She takes your hands in hers, holding it softly over the center console. She doesn't push or try to interject her own thoughts about the whole thing into your mind. She knows you well enough to know that no decision you made came lightly, that it took hours and hours of thought and careful planning.

The light turns green and the car starts moving again. "You don't have to go back so soon. You can stay with Harrison and I if you want to." Cass offers, a small glint in her eyes.

You take a moment to consider before looking out the window. "I need to go back Cass. To my home, to my stuff. I need to go back to him. I ran once but I'm ready. I finally feel ready to face what we left behind." You smile, hands gripping the door handle a bit too tight.

Cass nods and hums. "Just know I'm there. If you need me."

And that's what the conversation is left at. Fifteen minutes later your left staring at your building. Cass offered to go upstairs with you, but you'd elected to face it all yourself.

There were two options that stood in front of you. One, Jack was home, asleep, getting ready to head to bed and face another grueling night shift. The blackout curtains would be drawn and the apartment quiet. Would the floorboards remember your steps or creak under the unfamiliar weight of your long lost body? Maybe they would, and then they'd wake him, and you'd have to explain the last five months of your life to him while he was half asleep.

The other option was simple, he wasn't home, maybe getting groceries before he inevitably came home to crash out on the couch. It had irked you so much when you first started dating. The way he'd get off a few hours before you and offer to do the shopping, just for you to come home and find him asleep in the most neck sore position possible, jacket barely off, jeans twisted too tightly across his legs. But eventually it became a comfort, the way you could rouse him and make him follow you to bed, where you'd help him take off his prosthetic, rip off his scrubs in return for a clean shirt and pj pants. Or sometimes when you were both so tired after a rough day you could snuggle yourself between his arms, him hardly waking up, but still opening his strong arms so you could press against his chest.

And you find yourself hoping it can be like those distant couch sleeps. That he'll be there, asleep on the couch, and you can just lay with him, head pressed against his chest, snuggled right below his chin as his fingers splay over the middle of your back, gripping you as to not let you disappear again.

So when you turn your key into the lock, you take a deep breath. With the click sounding, you push the door open. You roll your suitcase in first, setting it to the side. Then you pause, listening. There's silence, and for a moment you think you're safe. The buzz of the AC when it clicks on startles you, but not as much as the man standing before you.

Jack stands near the couch, hand holding on to it, like he might fall over. He wears a tight black tee, some washed jeans and his tennis shoes. When you finally meet his eyes you see something, a glint of pain? Maybe sadness, maybe shock. His hair is slightly longer along the sides, his facial hair a bit more clean shaven than the stubble you had last seen him in. He doesn't move, neither do you. Its like the saddest cowboy stand off you've ever witnessed.

The click of the door behind you finally breaks the silence. You take a step forward, placing your keys down on the entry table. You can't tear your eyes from his. You wish you could read his face, know where to start on the long list of apologies and begging of forgiveness.

"I know you probably hate me. I know you maybe wish I would have never come back. And I know when I left we were in a bad position, a position that I never wanted to be at with you." Jack opens his mouth to say something, but you're quick to silence him with a raise of your hand.

"But I'm here. I'm here because I love you. Because I never wanted to leave in the first place. And you are the first stable thing I've had in my life since med school." A sudden hiccup burst from you, followed by tears. You couldn't stop it. In an instant your face was crumpled, warm, tears spilling from your eyes.

"Sweetheart..." Jack mutters, marching towards you until his arms swaddled your frame, arms pressing tight around your ribs, fingers grasping at your hair. His face pressed deeply against the crown of your head, and his chest pressed perfectly against your ear until you could hear the thumping of his heart.

"Jack Abbott you— God you fucking took my life and put it back together in ways I didnt think possible. You showed me that I could be loved. I was worthy of love and attention."

You pulled away, Jack's arms still resting across your waist, fingers digging in, as though fully releasing you would mean you walking out the front door forever this time.

"And I ran. I ran because I was so fucking scared that you'd wake up and decide that I wasn't worthy, that you didn't need to be here. And I wouldn't be able to handle that." You glanced at him, and while your vision remained slightly blurred, you found that he was already looking back at you. For a moment you thought pity might be the thing coursing through his dark eyes, but you realized it wasn't even close. It was more like concern, fear.

"I picked that fight because I thought it was the only way to get you to leave. But you didn't. You refused to leave, to give in. And that made me mad." You laugh, wiping your face. Jack cracks a smile, followed by a small chuckle of his own.

"You made me mad because instead of doing what everyone else has done, you planted your feet. And that made me the most scared." You said, staring down at the ground. Jack gave you a moment to collect yourself, and when it seemed your breathing had finally calmed a bit, he took your hands in his, fingers intertwining with his own, his calloused palms pushing against yours.

"I planted my feet because I knew exactly what you were doing." He says, soft, speaking more into your hair than into the open space around you two.

"It was a stupid battle, and you're not stupid, so of course I knew what you were doing. Because I know you, sweetheart." he chuckles a little, the sound vibrating in his throat. "And more importantly, I planted my feet because I wanted to stay. You have never ever been anything short of the most beautiful, loving, smartest, strongest woman in my life. You are the best thing I've had in years." He sighed, his hand lefts yours as it moved up your arm, until it fell onto your jaw, guiding your eyes to his.

"And you put me back together. And I love you for that." He finishes. Neither of you two move, letting each others words swell around your embrace.

Your eyes drop to his lips, soft and kind. He doesn't hesitate, pulling you against him, letting your lips grace each others for the first time in months. You sigh, pressing your body against his. He holds you close as you two drink each other in.

Eventually he pulls away, rests his forehead against yours.

"I've missed you."

ϟ.·:¨༺ ♡ ༻¨:·.ϟ

[k-chips]

Here I am rambling about the cookie game now yeyyy

My Roman Empire in Cookie Run Kingdom is the fact that the Ancients are exactly who the Beasts needed in the past to stop their corruption and I kinda hope they'll go for something like that in the story... (This isn't just from a "ship point of view", the ships are just a plus you can like or dislike, i don't mind and I don't force anyone to see them that way, It's not important for the analysis)

Eternal Sugar couldn't accept to see the cookies she helped getting hurt over and over again, so she made her infinite paradise and made sure cookies' only refuge to pain and suffering was her home. WELL. Hollyberry literally travels all over Crispia with her SHIELD, protecting people while being FREE. She could have helped protecting these cookies, she could have shown Eternal Sugar "freedom" doesn't mean "suffering".

Burning Spice got bored of his eternal life. He got bored of every beings around him inevitably dying, walking the same exact path every times but Golden Cheese was the only one who could entertain him in the present. Not only because of the fighting but because Golden Cheese learns in her own chapter to accept the change, she learned to let go of the past and move on, to make something NEW. Exactly what Burning Spice needed. He needed someone to show him there is more than that infinite cycle.

Pure Vanilla made it very clear Shadow Milk's problem was loneliness. A lonely knowledgeable soul, always looking for the truth, in the middle of weak minds always accepting the easiest answers. Pure Vanilla could have been there with him, searching for the truth with him and would have helped Shadow Milk bear the weight of all that knowladge.

And then the most simple one but also my personal favorite:

Dark Cacao is a warrior, a knight, he watches over a wall that protects his people and kingdom. He could have been there for Mystic Flour, he could have protected her with his blade. He could have prevented these greedy and selfish cookies to attack her cocoon. She would not have come to the conclusion that no matter how hard she tries, how many times she tries, there is no solution to these problems that made these cookies attack her.

We still don't know anything about Silent Salt and White Lily is already dealing with her own problems but if Silent Salt was the virtue of Solidarity we can kinda see that trait in Dark Enchantress Cookie, who's literally trying to stop the Witches, to save the cookies. It can be seen as an act of solidarity, even if the way she's doing that it's terrible and maybe that's what happened to Silent Salt. He wanted to help but found the worst way possible to achieve that.

Anyway, I'm writing this while my head hurts and I'm sleepy so maybe it doesn't make sense, but still. I've been thinking about this for DAYS and now that I finally finished every Beast Yeast chapters I can finally try to put my thoughts in a semi coherent essay lol

I just love how literal SOULMATES (Because of the soul jams, yk) these cookies are.

[rexhya]

You the reader have built a successful career as a jujitsu sorcerer. The pay is great, but the hours are long and stressful. After completing an extra grueling mission, the reader decide to reward herself by taking a few days off for a much needed stay home vacation. That means no missions, no meetings, and no emergency calls! The only thing the reader has to concern herself with is how she is going to enjoy the warm spring weather.  The night before the reader’s vacation, she is met with a call from Nanami. No one is sure how, but Gojo has been hit by a curse! Is he okay? Sort of... He has not been physically harmed but our beloved white-haired sorcerer has been turned into a cat! Since the reader has the next few days off, it has been decided that she will be the one to care for the feline. Any concerns from the reader are brush aside and she is assured that the curse will (hopefully) wear off after a few days. So tell me my dear Rexhya, how does the rest of the reader’s vacation pan out with cat Gojo?

days spent w/ catoru — ✦ ✦

warn — not proofread!

incl — catoru

You stretched your back wildly, todays missions were grueling as usual. One special grade was enough to make you wanna take a break for ages. Luckily you didn't have to wish, today was your last work day before a week long vacation full of irresponsible spending and vegging out. Someone had to spend that sorcerer money.

You sighed again, trying to settle into your nightmare routine when your phone began ringing. It was from Nanami, and you automatically let out a breath of desperation. You and Nanami were close but both agreed to not call each other outside of work unless it was work related. This would be bad

"Hey, this still counts as my day off, no takebacks." you groaned, phone to your ear.

"And I apologize for that however this has nothing to do with your time off I'm afraid."

"It doesn't?"

"No."

"Explain, you're making me nervous..."

And he does, you almost want to hang up because of how rediculus it sounds.

"Gojo's been hit with a curse...and now he's a cat?"

"Correct."

"And you've deemed me responsible for taking care of him."

"Also correct."

"On my days off."

Nanami, sighed. "Once again, I apologize, this is secondhand information for me as well. A decision not made by me, they say it'll wear off in a couple of days."

You sigh again, soaking into your bath, "Well in that case I suppose it's fine. Send him over or do whatever it is you need to do, so just as long as I can continue my own life." Nanami grunted and hung up the phone, this probably wouldn't be to hard. You've known Gojo for a long time now, his personality was already something similar of a feline anyways.

How hard could this be?

"Meow."

You stare at the soft whites of the cat in front of you. His vivid blue eyes piercing yours.

You cocked your head sideways, Gojo cheekily doing the same.

You furrowed your brows, "Copy Cat." but he only meowed softly, nuzzling your fingers as if he were a real cat.

"You know I'm not going to spoil you or anything like that, you're probably going to be gone in a week so don't get your hopes up or anything." Gojo made a rather halarious gesture with his jaw, flicking his tail in mock irritation. After he'd been hit by this quirk things had been going in circles, but he knew one thing and that was in this cat form, you would have full advantage of him and he would make you pay attention to him if it was the last thing he did.

It was only the first day of you vacation, you didn't have any plans besides catching up on shows and lazing around all day, even with your new companion that wouldn't stop you. You slumped into the couch tiredly, practically ignore Satoru in a his fluffy whiteness.

"Mreowww." the cat had whined, pawing at your leg insistently.

You ignored him, this behavior wasn't much different from the regular Gojo anyways.

"MERRWWWW," he was practically hissing at this point. You rolled your eyes and paused your show, "What."

"Meow?" he cocked his head sideways, you didn't buy into the innocent act but decided to entertain him anyway. He continued pawing at you untill you leaned over so that your head was facing his directly.

"What, was is it Satoru, I'm trying to watch my show here." Satoru said nothing as he climbed his way up your legs and onto your lap, nuzzling your hands affectionately.

"Are you seriously asking me to pet you?" you said incredulously.

"Merw." and presented himself before you.

"You're not a real cat you know, this is only temporary so don't get used to it." but you began stroking the feline anyways, scratching under his chin and running fingers through his long fur. A very loud and prominent purring sound could be heard coming from him, although knowing Gojo, most of it was probably exaggerated.

Not long after this a simple routine between the two of you developed. You go, he goes. You stay, he stays. It was aroundmid week when your pretty little kitty became a slight problem.

"GOJO NO, LET GO OF HIM YOU TYRANT." but the cat just wasn't budging, his teeth and cawls fully gripped on the store employee who was helping you buy items for Gojos stay.

You hadn't even known what went wrong, one moment you were talking to the guy, joking in fact, the next Satoru's claws were wrapped around the poor mans neck, practically trying to kill him. And for what reason you had no clue, could Gojo seriously be turning to an animal?

"Get, off of him sicko." you finally were able to pry him off, but the guy was already a bloody mess. Gojo only hissed as he cradled his neck, was there some sort of cursed energy you couldnt detect or something? You doubted it. Even if you weren't the strongest sorcerer you were no doubt an extremely powerful ome. A curse during this time wouldn't have gotten past you.

"God, I am so sorry. Are you okay?" the man nodded and temderly nodded.

"Y-yeah, fistey little cat you got there." you smiled, at least he wasn't mad, though he had total right to be. People shouldn't bring there pets into stores if they can't handle them.

"Yeah, he's been very irritating these days." Satoru shrunk back into his cage, and for a second he almost looked scared.

You offered to help the worker but he insisted he was fine, thankfully. You immediately put Satoru in timeout, ignoring his insistent calls for you, he was so loud you almosost gave in.

You stood your ground howeverx you wouldn't let anyone be hurt by him under your care anymorre.

Gojo didn't seem to mind though, after all you wlats returned to him.

+ bonus !!

satoru: lying in you bed like its his, it's you last day of vacation

you: lying there as well

you: welp, time for bed i guess

overnight: you arise to a very tall and veryy lanky, 6 foot blue eyed non feline in your bed

you: you have GOT to be kidding me

satoru: merw?

[nejiverse]

‘FLYING OBJECTS’ AND THEIR BIG MOUTHS..

Kinich, Ifa

In which Ajaw and Cacucu reveal all their partners’ hidden feelings. Fem! Reader

cw: kissing, hope they arent ooc🥹

1104 words

Y/n was walking a good few steps ahead of Kinich and Ajaw, humming a tune Kinich couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he would soon find out that was the least of his worries.

Ajaw, who was always looking for something to pester Kinich about, noticed how the male threw multiple side glances at Y/n's retreating figure.

At this, a sly grin spread across his face.

"Oho what's this?", Ajaw echoed suddenly, loud enough to make a few qucusauri frantically scatter.

"Is our proud warrior tripping over his own feet just watching her walk?!".

Kinich rolled his eyes and swatted ajaw away but to no surprise he came right back.

What he said wasnt completely off the mark, but it wasnt just her walk. It was her posture, the way she carried herself, and most especially the way she would quickly glance back to make sure they werent too far behind, accompanied with that small smile that if interpreted into words would say 'im glad youre still there'.

Kinich would find himself counting down the minutes until she would give him another quick glance.

"I'm not, now stop annoying me", he scoffed.

"You so are! I'm telling Y/n~", he sang as he made his way to her side before Kinich could even attempt to grab him.

Kinich swore to himself that after today, Ajaw would never see the light of day again as he hurried to catch up to the two, now only a few steps behind the girl.

"I will end you", he mouthed as to not attract Y/n's attention but Ajaw was unfazed.

Being by Y/n's side gave Ajaw confidence to say whatever he wanted. After all, Kinich would never do anything rash in front of her.

"Honestly, it's adorable", the dragon lord mocked. "If you write Y/n a poem i'm absolutely reading that out loud!", he snickered.

Y/n laughed at Ajaw's antics. "A poem you say?", Y/n turned around now walking backwards. "If you write me one I expect a dramatic delivery! Bonus points if you pathetically cry halfway through", she teased.

Kinich folded his arms. "If I were to write a poem it’d be about someone who steals my food and calls it bonding".

He didnt miss a step, but inwardly he was pleading ajaw wouldnt take it further than he already had.

"See? he hates me!", Y/n frowned. “And it’s not stealing...its tactical aquiring..".

"Actually, lover boy over here has a huuuuge crush on you!".

"Quit it ajaw—", after he saw Kinich's hand coming out to grab him, he swiftly manoeuvred to Y/n's other shoulder.

"Like a trip-over-your-own-feet, cant-look-her-in-the-eye, i-hope-she-doesnt-think-im-being-too-cold kind of crush!".

Y/n stopped in her tracks and closed what little distance was between them, her eyes meeting his own. "Really?".

Kinich was quick to avert his gaze.

"You know how Ajaw can be—"

He was cut off when her hand combed back the hair at his ears, a red tint now coating them.

They two had known each other for a long time, she knew all his tells.

He grunted in embarrassment, eyebrow twitching involuntarily.

Y/n placed her hands at either side of his face ultimately forcing them to make eye contact.

"Is it true Kinich? Your answer will determine what I do next".

What should he do? Just say no and play it off as ajaw being a nuisance? Or maybe not answer at all? Or—

"..yes", he said at last, gritted and honest. "It’s true".

And without another word, she placed a kiss on his lips.

Ajaw huffed. "Bleh. so much for light teasing and tragic denial".

Y/n was helping out Ifa with the saurians when Cacucu blurted. "Yo, bro Ifa has a crush".

Ifa nearly choked on air, internally cursing Citlali.

It was only yesterday, after Citlali had figured him out that he went home muttering to himself and had no idea Cacucu could hear him. "I have a crush on Y/n? How could she even know that?”.

He noted to himself to keep his schizophrenia in his head.

Ifa ran a hand through his hair. "That was supposed to stay between me and the cold side of the clinic tent Cacucu..". And also Citlali but that part was against his will.

Y/n perked up like a tepetlisaurus. "Wait—hold on. Hold on. You have a crush? On who? I wanna know!".

Ifa pointed a finger at Cacucu. "Just so you know, you’re banned from talking until moulting season".

"Ifa has a crush on Y/n!". Why cacucu kept going was beyond Ifa, he felt simply betrayed.

"Cool, love that for me", he muttered with a dry voice.

"Wait..me?", she pointed at herself in disbelief.

Ifa had a lopsided grin. "Yeah its you. Obviously. I mean, you’re out here tending to saurians with me, laughing at my awful jokes, making the hatchlings fall asleep with your voice, and im just supposed to not feel something?".

The pair's conversation was cut short when Ororon bursted into the clinic blabbering about how he messed up and how Citlali was gonna kill him.

So a short while later when the noise had settled down and Ifa and Y/n had finished up for the day, the two sat down against a tree, the last stretch of Natlan’s sunlight making its final appearance.

"Sorry about earlier", Ifa rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just so used to fixing things, not feeling them", he admitted.

Y/n gave him a reassuring smile. "Well you're doing okay so far", she nodded. "And besides, it adds to your boyish charm", she teased.

Ifa chuckled softly. "Yeah?".

"Yeah".

There's a pause — soft, steady. The kind of silence that feels like it's holding its breath.

Ifa studied her face like he's still not sure he's allowed to want this. His fingers brushed up along her wrist, feather-light, as he leaned in just a little closer.

"...Can I?", he said with a low voice, almost unsure.

He raised up his hand, careful, fingers curling just under her chin to tilt her face up. His gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips.

"You're really asking? After all that?".

She laughed softly, and the sound is so gentle it tugs something loose in his chest. Her hand moved to cover his, holding it in place under her chin. "You better."

And that's all he needs.

If only she knew how long he had been waiting to do that.

masterlist :)

[bunnypeew]

One glass of wine too much - Alastor x Fem!reader

oke hi emmm its been a while since i've written something but I'm alive I promise!! here is a one shot i just had in mind of you and Alostor making out after you are both a bit woozy enjoyyy!!!

it was late at night, everyone was in the lobby after a party and they were mostly cleaning up after it,, you tho, were sitting down on a couch and were drinking a glass of red wine while you watched something on your phone.

Suddenly you hear a static noise coming near you and when you look down at the ground you see a shadow appear in front of your feet, you sighed and putting down your phone and looking up at the Radio Demon staring at you with a big smile as always

''What are you doing here all alone mon chere?,,

you were now twirling your wine glass in one hand while the other was holding up your head, your elbow being propped up on the couch arm. You seemed sad and... bored partially, he noticed that right away and he wasn't the type to care about stuff like this, but somehow he had gotten accustomed to you.

''It's nothing really,, just not enjoying myself at these parties recently,,

you sighed and took a sip of your glass, it was probably the third one you had but honestly you weren't sure at this point. He sat down next to you and spawned a glass of, some type of liquor you suppose. He started drinking along side you and you were both silent for a while, but as you kept drinking you kept on getting woozy and less worried about your sadness. Al didn't notice this at first because you were pretty tame, it was when you started saying random stuff about your life that he did, and let me tell you he was feeling amused by your behavior, he thought you were appealing.

''do tell me more, dear,,

''and like, I've never even felt anything for that guy, he was just being too much!! that seems like a shitty thing to say tho, am I being shitty?? I don't think I'm shitty I'm just being honest!!... eheheh, I like you tho Alastor, ah- maybe I shouldn't had said that either ah? oh well sometimes things just have to leave their place-,,

you kept on talking and talking, and he was giggling to himself, it wasn't until he put one of his hands on the small of your back, that made you almost jolt out the seat, he ignored tho and kept on sipping his liquor, he did noticed you stopped talking to, he tilted his head looking at you and spoke

'' why did you stop speaking my dear? I was quite enjoying your ramblings!,,

you were red as a tomato, or well even as red as his suit! Even tho you were woozy you could still feel embarrassment, you touched your cheeks and felt them being hot, then you went to your lips, feeling them a bit puffier then usual. Alastor was watching your every move and as soon as you touched your lips, his ears and tail twitched, something snapped into him and he couldn't tell if it was the liquor or just how beautiful you looked under the dim light of the lobby. He reached out to grab your hand slowly and then took your finger to his mouth, kissing them ever so softly, this made you gasp a little bit but your eyes were now locked onto his lips, he noticed and looked around himself before looking back at you and leaning in to lock your lips together.

At first it was a soft gentle kiss, you both reciprocated, but after a few seconds it became more deep, with his hand leaving your arm and went to your waist with the other one, he grabbed it, squishing it with his claws but not enough to hurt you. Your hands were on his chest at first but when you tilted your head a little to deepen the kiss even more your hands went to his cheeks, then in his hair pulling slightly at it. His ear twitched at that new feeling of your hands in his hair, his hands digging deeper in your waist, almost raising your shirt too, you let out a tiny sound as he did that. That almost made him go feral, also making him push his tongue to yours, making them dance and giving him the chance to taste you better, tasting mostly of the red wine you were sipping prior but also mint and strawberries, as for him you couldn't put a finger on it, it was a lovely flavor, from him and his lips. This went on for more minutes, it wasn't until you both heard an 'ahem' coming from near you that you, only you, turned around to see who it was. It was Charlie, she was displaying a big smile on her face and was waving to you, you stopped the kiss and looked at her with a guilty smile, your lipstick was all smudged and was all over Alastor's lips, he didn't care for the princess watching you so he started kissing your neck next but you stopped him by jolting up from the couch making him almost tumble off of it.

''SORRY CHARLIE WE ARE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LOBBY AREN'T WE OH MY GOD-,,

Alastor scoffed and sat back properly on the couch, fixing his bowtie, he wasn't upset or anything but his static was getting a bit louder. You weren't done for tonight it was all you gathered from that.

YEEEEES RAAAAH OMFG THERE IT IS MUAH MUAH MUAAAAH anyway hope you enjoyed reading cuz I deff did by writing <3

[lagooneah]

I wrote this in the car *throws it at you*

Relationship headcanons for my sweetie patootie pie P!!! I need this dlc before I'm put into a straight jacket 🫶🫶🫶💝💝💝💝🥰🥰🥰😍😍

P is the type to not understand how much you LOVE little bits and features about him. His freckles, his hair... He doesn't get why you're obsessed with that, but he lets you do whatever you want with it.

He totally lets you braid his hair when it's grown out long.

He loves it.

Im deadass- he will literally go a MONTH with the same braid you put in his hair- no matter how messy and loose it is now.

You kissed the freckles on his forehead once, and now he's almost ASKING FOR IT. Constantly.

And by asking, I mean, he stands there after approaching you, quietly tugs on your sleeve, and points to his face.

He asks with words SOMETIMES, but let's be real- this boy is often nonverbal because of him literally being unable to articulate tone and words correctly for the first stages of his "life".

He asks for a lot with cute, quiet gestures.

He wants your warmth? He gets REALL close to your back, placing his chin on your shoulder and staring at you with those adorable baby blues until you give in.

He wants to hold your hand? He'll brush his knuckles against yours, silently standing beside you until you notice him and interlink your hands.

I'd imagine that along the lines of touch, he's actually a little afraid to touch you with his legion arm.

He's killed countless puppets, infected, and all sorts of lives with it. And he's scared that you'll hate it. His arm. Him.

He doesn't get scared often, but this is certainly a fear.

He's comforted, though, when instead of ostracizing it, you'll gently oil the mechanisms within, taking care of this part of him.

Why?

What he doesn't understand is that you take care of his legion because it's part of him. And you love him, you truly do.

He only lets you hold onto his legion when its certain arms- his original rusted limb the most lenient.

For fire, sometimes, electricity? Maybe. NEVER the acid or the shield- those are what he perceives as the most dangerous because they're the most unpredictable.

But you could convince him to do anything, if it's for you.

He totally follows you around like a puppy sometimes, just wanting to be around you, do whatever you may be unable to do yourself, be your little puppet that serves and caters to your every need.

Maybe that's the only thing the grand covenant could latch onto him- the desire to please.

And he'll do ANYTHING for your approval. He's addicted to the rush that every gear and mechanism within his body receives whenever he's done something good, done something human.

And you make him feel more human than anyone else- while also loving and accepting the puppet parts of him.

I feel like along those lines- his love languages would grow to be acts of service, quality time- and secretly- physical touch.

(Its not a secret, everyone knows)

He loves your warmth, your natural warmth- nothing like the fire hes used to sitting beside or emitting from his legion.

You create warmth effortlessly. Just existing is warmth to you- and he's fascinated by that.

So naturally, he finds himself enjoying being incredibly close to you- his arms wrapped around you, his chest against your back, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

The cold puppet still can't produce heat on his own the way that you do- so he gets his warmth from you.

Sure, he could always warm himself with the fireplace in the Hotel, or use his legion when he's out and about, and a chill is in the air.

The difference between that and now is that then he was doing it to keep his gears and body in good condition, to keep any rust or creaking from manifesting. To keep himself in top battle condition.

Now? It's purely for his own enjoyment.

He doesn't need it, no, not when hes within the walls of the temperature safe hotel.

He just wants it. He wants you and what you do to him. And that warmth is a vital part of you.

"Love" is a complex thing to him. Something he's still yet to fully grasp.

"Love" was supposedly what his father felt for him, but only if he did what he wanted of him.

"Love" was something he could only see in his Ergo, the Ergo Sophia revived him with.

Love killed, while also bringing life.

He wanted it, yes, to understand it, to use it, to receive it- and yet he didn't know the first thing of its "good" because he only felt its bad.

Then there's you, you who seems to love so easily, you who seems to give love to everyone you meet.

Including him.

Your affection was something to get used to, your constant worry over his state, your small but constant actions that took care of his needs...

He didn't know what love was, but he knew that what he felt for you was different than everything else his metal heart had ever felt.

He likes seeing you, just watching you do what you do. Reading, painting, inventing - it didn't matter what you were doing. He'd be enraptured by you.

That and, well, he wants to protect you. You're so very important to him. You're what keeps his humanity high and lively. You move his gears in mysterious ways, and you cause his metal heartbeat to increase.

You change him in ways he loves changing to.

He is a lover boy, that's for certain. He loves listening, loves being around you, he LOVES when he's with you. His mortality is especially clear with you around. You make him weak, you make him tender, you make him more than a human or a puppet, you make him him.

I probably have more... But my brain always has more, and this post was getting long, and I was tired of seeing it in my drafts, so TAKE IT- TAKE MY LIFES WORK-

Please enjoy and I love you all very much 🫶🫶🫶

[anghraine]

kjfd;jkadj my last two posts collided in my mind—the one I just posted, about Kirk and Uhura not only caring intensely about each other behind their professional personas, but also handling said personas in essentially similar, synergistic ways as communications and commanding officer + the ramble last night about how I haven't yet found a fic that takes up the concept of Kirk making a fantastic psychologist (I've only seen direct role-reversals with him and Spock thus far) that's mentioned all the way back in S1 of TOS.

The psychologist!Kirk post basically split into two scenarios which I babbled more about in tags: one where Spock is captain, most likely of an all-Vulcan Starfleet vessel like the Intrepid until Kirk is transferred to that ship as part of some human-Vulcan collaborative effort going on, and another where they're still on the Enterprise, with Spock remaining chief science officer and Kirk as head of the psychologists and counselors on board. The TOS psychologists are always science division, so in that version, it's Dr. Kirk answering to Spock (likely his direct superior would be McCoy but ~mysteriously he ends up working more directly with Spock).

But I did think idly, "I wonder who the captain would be if it's neither Kirk or Spock, the next in the canonical command chain is Scotty, but I don't see that at all, certainly not McCoy, I'm not sure Sulu is all that suited to it at this point—"

BUT UHURA. CAPTAIN UHURA. Her age is never mentioned in TOS and I don't care about anything else for these purposes, but iirc Nichelle Nichols was actually close in age to Nimoy and Shatner, so it doesn't beggar belief that she could have gotten so far, so fast. And her professional accord with Kirk makes her a less plot-disruptive choice than someone really dissimilar like, idk, Pike or whomever.

SO. In this scenario, Spock is Captain Uhura's unflappable chief science officer/XO, Kirk is essentially her Troi (still virtually psi-null—just an incredibly incisive and adaptable judge of people and perfectly ready to share his observations with Uhura), Scotty is still living his best life communing with the warp drive, and McCoy is basically unchanged.

Kirk's notoriously demanding class at the Academy (implied to be a philosophy one in TOS) was an ethics course informed by his specialization. Elizabeth Dehner worked directly with him before, well, events, and he's along on the attempt to stop Mitchell and Dehner. The "Dagger of the Mind" mission is an Uhura-Kirk field trip. Uhura defies Starfleet to get Spock to Vulcan without even knowing why—Spock won't explain and Kirk won't break his confidence, but she knows whose judgment she values most and her trusted chief counselor >>>> some asshole admiral. Uhura also goes on a bunch of planetary exploration missions as captain, still in her mini-skirt and boots and winged eyeliner (though her clothes don't get torn quite as much as Kirk's), and is a natural diplomat who is not above a) lies or b) fighting if necessary. Something like "The Corbomite Maneuver" is resolved largely the same way, for instance.

Spock and Kirk still play chess games that Spock more often loses, but this regularly happens in the science labs. McCoy and Kirk are still old friends and regularly talk shop with some mildly illegal beverages involved. Uhura is split into Good Uhura and Evil Uhura that one time but is also still the one to bring the tribbles onboard.

I'm going back to outlining my f/f K/S AU but. do you see the vision

[writingdevil]

May I ask for some contrahero, mayhaps?

(Yes you may! I'm actually surprised that this is the first contrahero request, I thought there'd be more. Either way, I love them, and how cute and silly they are, so enjoy!)

Hero and Contrarian have a little game that they like to play, called the 'I love you' game.

It was quite simple. They would each take turns saying I love you, but they would have to add something to the end of it.

Such as-'I love you so much that I want to vomit.'

'Well, I love you so much that I feel like I can jump and touch the sun.'

The point of the game was to keep adding more and more ridiculous things after the 'I love you' until one of them couldn't think of anything to top that.

Hero never won.

Contrarian was just too creative for his own good. He would come up with lines that would have Hero simultaneously burst out laughing and his face heating up in embarrassment.

It wasn't as if it was a bad thing. There wasn't even technically a proper winner to the game, or even a prize to win, if you excluded the amount of kisses they traded after the game.

It's just that sometimes, Hero would like to win, just once. Just to prove that his love for Contrarian was as passionate and as colourful as Contrarian's was for him.

Like he said, it wasn't a bad thing to lose-but Hero would sure like to see what Contrarian looked like when he lost for once.

-

They were cuddling on the couch one time, Contrarian laying flat on his back while Hero snuggled into his chest, and Contrarian was peppering kisses to the top of his head, when he mumbled into his feathers, "I love you."

Hero smiled playfully, hearing the beginnings of their game again. "I love you more," Hero muttered, before lifting his head to meet Contrarian's playful eyes.

Contrarian giggled, and then said, "I love you so much that I could swallow a whole watermelon."

Hero burst out laughing at how ridiculous they were already starting, but he quickly responded with, "I love you so much that I could walk through fire without getting hurt."

Hero felt Contrarian squeeze him tighter, a competitive spark in his eyes. He stared at Hero for a few seconds, narrowing his eyes in thought, and then he smiled cheekily and said, "Well, I love you so much that I could turn into a shadow, so that I could follow you around and prank people."

Hero opened his mouth to reply, but the image of Contrarian bouncing around as a dark shadow and messing around, and then slinking back to the darkness to escape blame was really funny to him-and he burst out laughing.

He shoved his face into Contrarian's chest, who cheered and exclaimed, "I'll take that as a win!"

"It's just-" Hero tried to say, "-just the image of you as a shadow, doing like, cartwheels or something is so silly to me."

"I'm nothing if not silly in everything I do-that's one thing you can count on me for."

"Yeah, I see that." Hero relaxed back against Contrarian's body, his ear right over Contrarian's heartbeat with a sigh. "Fine. You win-again."

Contrarian waved an arm in the air gleefully and said, "Another victory for me."

They quickly fell back into their relaxed cuddling, but Hero couldn't stop thinking about how he had lost the game-again.

He wanted to beat Contrarian. It was dumb, but Hero wanted to prove that he loved Contrarian enough to win at this little game.

He knew they weren't going to break up over this, but Hero still felt like it was important to be able to convey his love properly. Or maybe he's just been hanging out with Smitten too much.

Still, Hero started to think of how he could beat Contrarian, if only to see his partner's reaction at Hero usurping him.

How did Contrarian always win? Well, he always made Hero laugh until he surrendered, so maybe Hero could try that? But then again, Hero's not particularly funny.

What kind of reactions were Hero able to get out of Contrarian? He thought about it for a few minutes, and his brain merely reminded him of all the times that Contrarian complimented him, calling him too sweet and kind for his own good, and that his teeth would fall out at the sweetness.

Wait- maybe Hero could use that.

Hero smiled, cuddling into Contrarian's chest, knowing exactly how he was going to win the game this time.

-

That night, as they were settling down for bed, Hero dragged Contrarian as close as he could, pressing a kiss to his forehead, making Contrarian giggle.

He felt Contrarian relax and melt into Hero's arms and mumbled, "Night, love you."

Hero smirked, and muttered back, "Love you more."

Everything was silent for a few seconds, before Contrarian snorted, and lifted his head to peer up at Hero in giddy surprise. "Really? You wanna do this again?" Hero just grinned down at him. Contrarian sighed and said, "Okay, but it's your funeral."

Contrarian scooted up to be at eye level with Hero, and Hero could see the determination in the other's eyes, even in the dark, as Contrarian began, "I love you so much that I feel like I could juggle five whole cabins at once."

Hero tightened his grip on Contrarian, smiling at him warmly as he whispered, "I love you so much that even the flowers would be able to feel our love."

Contrarian's face flashed with surprise, before he quickly recovered, but Hero could still see a hint of Contrarian being taken aback by his words.

Contrarian shot him a confident look and said, "I love you so much that I feel like I could ride a mountain like a horse."

Hero smiled sweetly at him, leaning down closer to Contrarian's face as he said, "I love you so much, that I would make the sun shine on all the amazing living things on this land, for a chance for us to build a home there."

This time, Contrarian chuckled nervously, staring at Hero in uncertainty, and Hero could feel the way Contrarian was studying his face and trying to understand him.

Hero thought that this would be the moment that Contrarian admitted defeat, but then he felt Contrarian tighten his grip around his neck and quietly said, as if unsure and even afraid of what was about about happen, "W-Well I love you so much that I feel like I could bounce on a cloud."

Hero could tell that Contrarian wasn't focusing as well as he usually was for this game, and he decided to go in for the kill.

He cupped Contrarian's cheek with one hand, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his lips, and when they parted only a few seconds later, he whispered to Contrarian, "I love you so much, that my devotion to you would carry on even if we were nothing more but feathers in the wind."

Contrarian froze, staring up at Hero with wide eyes, and Hero felt the way he shivered in his hold and his feathers stood on end. Contrarian didn't have a response for the next few seconds, and Hero smiled knowingly, and they both knew in that moment that he had won.

Contrarian chuckled nervously, glancing around the bedroom as he went, "Wow-didn't expect you to-um-go that route."

Hero giggled, rubbing a hand up and down Contrarian's back. "Does that mean I won?"

"Yeah," Contrarian said, still sounding as if he hadn't moved on from what just happened, "you've won, because what was-" he cut himself off with a shake of his head, and Hero struggled not to laugh louder and accidentally wake someone up- he's just never seen Contrarian this caught off guard before.

Contrarian blew out a breath. "You are brutal, you know that?" Hero smiled and pressed another kiss to his lovely partner who he had finally beaten at the 'I love you' game.

"Well," Hero said, feeling Contrarian settle back down within his arms. "I was just trying a different approach, the honest strategy."

Contrarian shoved his face into Hero's chest, and Hero could tell that he was flustering the other a lot with this teasing, and he decided that he was going to do whatever it takes to win from now on if it got this reaction out of Contrarian.

"Shut up and take your victory," Contrarian mumbled. "Just know that I'm coming back with a vengeance."

Hero kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes. "I'll be ready for you."

[ladygelfling]

Manfred Finds a Baby - The Fic

This is the fan fic continuation of the comic I made of Manfred finding a baby in the Necropolis.

(I don't know if Thedas has a baby formula equivalent but let's just pretend they do!)

Emmrich had just finished making notations on his students' research papers when he heard what sounded like a baby crying in the distance outside of his apartment in the Necropolis.

He shook his head at the the preposterous thought. He glanced up at the portrait of him and Tessora on their wedding day and smiled. He always missed her while she was off at sea, but knew she was due to be back in a few days time. Emmrich still sometimes couldn't believe that he had found such love.

He heard the crying sound again as he made his way to the kitchen to make some tea. Where was Manfred? The sound seemed closer now. Emmrich stepped outside just as Manfred was hurrying up to him. He was carrying something wrapped in brown in his bony arms.

"Manfred! What have you got there?"

"Dunno!"

Before he could, once again, import the proper manner of speaking, Emmrich looked down at the bundle and gasped.

"Oh my word, look at you." He whispered, voice soft and full of wonder. A baby with cherub cheeks and blue eyes peered up at him. "Where did you come from?" He asked as he took the child from Manfred.

"Found in box." Said Manfred, pointing in the direction he had come from.

"Found? Oh dear."

Emmrich took the baby inside and set it down to inspect for any injuries. The baby boy seemed slightly underweight but otherwise looked healthy. He wrapped him back up in the blanket.

"Manfred? Show me where you found him."

After finding nothing of note inside the box, Emmrich took the baby to Myrna and Vorgoth.

"A child? Abandoned in the tombs? We must contact one of the orphanages in the city. It may take a few days to place the child." Mryna said. She noticed how Emmrich unconsciously clutched the baby closer. "Unless you think the baby should remain with us?"

"ANOTHER VOLKARIN" boomed Vorgoth.

Emmrich gazed down at his little face and realized the baby had fallen asleep in his arms. The mention of an orphanage brought Tess to mind. Granted the ones here in Nevarra City were much better than the one she grew up in.

Could they adopt this child? He had always thought about becoming a father but he knew Tessora had reservations. They had briefly discussed the possibility of children after they got engaged but nothing was ever set in stone.

"I will look after him while you contact the orphanages. I cannot make such a decision without Tessora though."

"Very well."

Emmrich left them and immediately set out to procure the needed supplies to care for an infant, Manfred in tow. He knew of one Mourn Watcher couple that had a child in the last year and made his way to their quarters to see if they could assist with anything.

"Professor Volkarin! What a surprise!" The woman tried to compose herself at finding her former teacher and much respected Senior Necromancer on her doorstep. And with a baby at that.

"Watcher Reinmenkortz, I apologize for calling unannounced. Might I enquire if you have any baby items that your own little one has outgrown? I will happily compensate you for anything you are willing to part with."

"I might have a few things. Please come in. I had heard you were recently married, Professor, but I didn't know you'd welcomed a baby as well! Congratulations!"

Emmrich couldn't help but smile. "Well, this one was found abandoned in the tombs. Manfred here found him. I'm going to be taking care of him until we can settle on what to do with him."

"Abandoned? The poor dear. I'm sure you and your wife will take excellent care of him, Professor." She excused herself to gather some things for him.

Emmrich looked down at his charge and saw that he was still asleep. What is your story, little one? Watcher Reinmenkortz returned with a box of things for him.

"Manfred, if you please! Thank you, again."

Once back at home, the baby woke up and required feeding and changing. Emmrich had never actually changed a diaper before but he was a quick study. He spent the rest of the evening reading to him until he fell asleep again. Emmrich put him in a makeshift crib he made from a box and settled into his own bed and he found himself once again missing Tessora.

Three days had past and he, Manfred, and the baby had developed a routine of sorts. Manfred was so curious about him and eager to help.

"Baby!" He now shouted every time he saw him.

Emmrich had taken the baby on walks about the gardens, introducing him to his parents even. They visited Myrna and Vorgoth as well.

"You have taken quite a shine to him, Professor." Myrna said.

"I admit I have."

"How will Rook react?" She asked.

"Im not sure, truthfully. But she's due back today so we shall know soon enough."

~~~~

Emmrich was more nervous than he was when he proposed to Tess. The baby was napping in their room and he was trying to write a report on spirit activity in the Necropolis, but all he could think of was what her reaction was going to be. An hour later he gave up entirely on the report and made some tea instead. Emmrich heard the turn of a key in the door and Tessora walked in smelling like sea air and sunshine.

"Darling, you're home!" He said making his way to her.

"I missed you, Emmrich. " Tess replied, wrapping her arms around his neck and greeting him with her lips on his.

He couldn't help but wrap his own around her, deepening the kiss. He missed her too.

She had just started to thread her fingers into his hair when the cry of a baby in the next room stopped her in her tracks.

Tessora looked at him with wide eyes. "What was that?"

"Darling, I…"

The baby let out another cry and she went to the door of their room and opened it, pausing in the doorway. "Emmrich? Why is there a baby in our room??"

"Well, you see, Manfred found him." He started to explain.

"Found him?"

"In the tombs, " He continued. "He appears to have been abandoned." Tessora's attention snapped to his face the moment he said the word.

"Abandoned?" She said much softer.

"Yes." Emmrich moved past her to pick up the baby. "I've been taking care of him for the past few days while we wait for someone from one of the orphanages in the city comes to collect him."

He had come to know enough of her face that he knew she was tensing her jaw at the mention of the orphanage. He knew she wouldn't be keen.

"I promise you that our orphanages are nothing like the one you grew up in, dearest."

Her eyes followed him as he took the baby into the kitchen to make him a bottle. Manfred walked in and clapped when he saw Tessora.

"Tess!!! Baby!!"

"Manfred, could you hold him while I make up a bottle, please?"

~~~~~~

Whatever homecoming Tessora was expecting nothing could have prepared her for this. She was a bundle of emotions. It was plain to see that Emmrich was already attached to this child.

They had discussed children when they got engaged but while she had never said no exactly, she also didn't say yes. Tess had no reservation that Emmrich would make, and already is, a wonderful father. She sees it with Manfred. She's seen it with Taash, Bellara, and Jacobus. She sees it in the domestic scene before her. The problem was her. What did she know about being a mother? Absolutely nothing. Her own mother didn't want her. The woman who ran the orphanage certainly didn't act like a mother, at least Tess didn't think that was what mothers were supposed to be like.

She watched Manfred hold the baby while Emmrich moved about the kitchen with efficiency. "Baby!" Manfred shouted proudly.

Tess couldn't help but smile. "Was there a note or anything found with him?" She asked.

"Nothing at all. We searched the area immediately and found no trace of who left him. No reports of an abduction either. He was simply…left." Emmrich took the baby and sat down at the table to give him his bottle.

"Where did you get all these baby things?"

"Oh, I know a former student who recently had a baby and she was very helpful in getting me started."

Watching Emmrich with this baby was making her feel things that she didn't know what to do with. She didn't know she'd find him just as attractive with a baby as she does when he's casting spells or teaching a class.

"You said the orphanage was coming to get him? When exactly?"

"I believe someone should be here tomorrow. So he will only be our guest for one more night it seems." Tessora could hear the sadness in his voice. Yeah, he was definitely attached.

"Oh." Somehow that revelation made her sad.

"Darling, I…"

"You want us to keep him. To raise him as our child, don't you?"

Emmrich looked at her and then back down at the baby. "The thought has crossed my mind…several times. I know you have said that you didn't want to be a mother and I respect your wishes."

"Emmrich, it's because I'm afraid." She confessed. "I've always been afraid that whatever caused my mother to take one look at me and throw me away, made it's way into me. I never felt that, what do they call it, maternal instinct. So I just assumed that since my mother didn't feel it, that I didn't either."

"But Darling, you don't know if your mother was forced to leave you or if something happened to her. She may not have wanted to give you up."

"I know but these feelings have always been there. Then I met Taash and just started feeling protective of them. Same thing with Bellara and with Jacobus. Then I fell in love with a necromancer and started feeling protective of his skeleton son. Isabela told me it was because I was feeling maternal. I told her she was crazy but turns out maybe she was right?" "Tessora, when Taash calls us the "mom and dad of the group" they aren't fully joking, you know. They have come to look to you as a mother figure." He reached over to squeeze her hand.

"I am no replacement for Shathann." Tess countered.

"No, but you have been mothering Taash more than you realize. And Manfred here."

Manfred clapped upon hearing his name. "Tess!!" He said enthusiastically. "Baby!"

"I see you are not the only one already attached." Tess couldn't help but chuckle as Manfred started a game of peekaboo with the baby.

"Manfred has taken quite an interest in him. Only natural for a spirit of curiosity."

Tess was starting to feel overwhelmed and anxious. "I know I just got home, but I need to think. I'm going to go for a walk." She kissed Emmrich on her way out and touched the baby's hair. He really was an adorable baby and he looked perfectly content in Emmrich's arms. Tessora knew that feeling.

She left their apartment and made her way to the memorial gardens. She was sitting on one of the benches near Emmrich's parents when she noticed Vorgoth making his way up the path towards her. Tess didn't usual see him in the garden and the last time she did, he was scolding her and Emmrich for doing something they probably shouldn't have been doing in the gardens.

"YOU HAVE RETURNED."

"Just got back today actually." She explained.

"YET YOU SEEM TROUBLED." How Vorgoth managed to convey concern with such a deep booming voice and no face, she wasn't sure.

"I, um, didn't expect to come home to such a surprise. I like the gardens so I came here to think."

"YOU SPEAK OF THE CHILD. IT WOULD THRIVE UNDER THE GUIDANCE OF THE VOLKARINS."

It took Tessora a moment to realize that he was including her when he spoke of "The Volkarins". They had been married only a short time and she was still getting used to it.

"You really think so?" She asked genuinely.

"THE PROFESSOR IS ONE OF OUR BEST AND YOU LED THE FIGHT AGAINST GODS AND WON. ANY YOU TAKE UNDER YOUR WING WOULD BE MADE BETTER FOR IT."

Tess stared at the shadowy spirit for several unblinking seconds. "Vorgoth that is one of the nicest compliments I've ever heard. I could hug you."

"PLEASE RESTRAIN YOURSELF."

Tessora burst out laughing. "Thank you for making me feel better and giving me food for thought."

"THERE IS ANOTHER HAUNTING IN THE NECROPOLIS I MUST SEE TO. GOOD DAY, ROOK."

Before returning home, Tess, stopped by the graves of Emmrich's parents to say hello. She wonders if Emmrich knows that she talks to them when he isn't with her. Tess ran her fingers over the names engraved on the headstones. "I suppose a few more Volkarins in the world isn't a bad thing?"

Emmrich had dinner laid out for them when she got back to their apartment. Or rather the Necropolis chefs had delivered it. Neither of them were good cooks, as Lucanis will never let them forget.

"Dearest, I really am sorry to have blindsided you with this. I did not have a way of reaching you at sea. It was not my intent - "

Tessora held up her hand. "Emmrich, it's okay. I know you didn't do this on purpose. We should see if Archon Pavus can make us sending crystals like he and the Inquisitor have. Honestly, I would have told you to take care of the baby while you waited for the orphanage anyway."

Manfred was keeping the baby entertained while they ate. Tessora kept looking over at them and couldn't keep herself from smiling. That warm feeling she always gets around Emmrich and her found family was intensifying.

"Dorian is keeping their creation rather close to his chest. Let us talk of your latest adventure though. How fared your voyage?" Emmrich asked with interest.

She spent the rest of dinner telling him about her latest job for the Lords and he filled her in on his classes and the gossip around the Necropolis. The baby was content in Emmrich's arms and seemed to listen to him just as intently as she was. Tessora hadn't asked to hold him herself and Emmrich hadn't asked her either. Things were getting clearer in her mind but Tess was still a little afraid. She loved Domneth's kids and never had any issues beind around them, so why was this different? She ignored her inner voice, that always sounded like Isabela, saying "You know why." __

Tess woke up just as the baby started to fuss. She glanced over at Emmrich who was fast asleep. She got out of bed and went over to the makeshift crib. Tessora reached down and picked him up taking him into their sitting room. He was a light and squirmy thing. She changed him and wrapped him a blanket. Tessora sat down with him in Emmrich's favorite chair and he stared up at her with his brilliant blue eyes.

"I was abandoned too, you know." She spoke softly. "I grew up in a horrible place. Wondering why my mother left me there. Why she didn't want me. After a while, I stopped thinking about her and just hoped a new family would come and adopt me. They never came though."

The baby reached up a hand to her face and she tilted her chin down so he could touch it. She felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"I know that the orphanages here are different…better. But will you also grow up waiting for a family that might not come? I found a family with Emmrich and Manfred, maybe you can too, little one? Emmrich already is a wonderful father, but I don't know if I'd be a good mother. I had no good example. But…I'd make sure you had the things I didn't. You wouldn't have to fight for more food. You'd have clothes that are clean and fit you. You wouldn't have to sleep on a dirty floor."

He cooed and she couldn't help but melt at his sweet face. "And you'd learn how to sail a ship." She whispered conspiratorially. He yawned and she bundled him a little tighter in the blanket and quietly starting singing a shanty.

~~~~

Emmrich woke up to find his wife missing and the baby not in his crib. He immediately got up to search for them but was not prepared for the sight that greeted him in the sitting room: Tessora holding the baby in her arms and singing softly to him.

It made his heart swell to see it. He recognized the tune she was singing, it was the same one she sang for him when he had woken in the middle of the night seized by his dreadful fear while they still lived at the Lighthouse. They had only just started to explore their feelings at that point. She had heard him shouting and burst into his room, holding him until his shaking subsided and sat with him in front the fireplace with his head in her lap, softly stroking his hair. Then she sang to him. Soft and low, but beautiful. It calmed him so much that he thought perhaps she did have magic in her. But it was just Tessora.

She looked up as he entered the room and gave a crooked smile. The baby was asleep in her arms. "Darling, you should have woken me." He said quietly.

"You looked so peaceful. Besides I do know how to change a nappy." He must have looked surprised because she added, "Domneth has 5 kids. No one sets foot in their house without pitching in. His wife, Illia, showed me how."

Emmrich moved to kneel in front of her. "You know, Tess, for someone who thinks they aren't maternal, you certainly look like a natural right now."

Even in the low light, he could tell a blush was forming.

"When I was a kid, I waited and waited for a family to come take me away. To be wanted…to belong. No one ever came. We could keep him from all that. Be his family, I mean. Maybe?"

"What are you saying, darling?"

"We should adopt him." She said softly.

Emmrich couldn't help the tears that were forming in his eyes as he looked at her and the baby. "Darling, are you sure?"

She glanced down at the sleeping bundle in her arms. "Yeah, I am. Are you ready for a new kind of adventure, Professor?"

"Dearest, with you by my side, I am always ready."

[comesatimecomesashadow]

frayed synapses *ೃ༄

ׂ╰┈➤ . . . you're reading part iv.

cw *ೃ༄ mentions of injuries/scars + insecurity about them, descriptions of poor mental health/social anxiety

summary *ೃ༄ with the burden of job-related stress weighing on your back, you decide to unwind at a local pub. yet instead of relaxation, you find out that your neighbor is none other than Simon RIley, a member of the military. after making the decision to clumsily ask him to have tea with you after an embarrassing first impression, you find that underneath Simon Riley's hardened, stone-cold façade, is a man who desperately seeks an end to the turmoil that plagues him.

note *ೃ༄ sorry for the late update, i was fighting demons (crippling depression), enjoy !

masterlist | series masterlist | prev . . next

“I didn’t think i’d being seein’ you after..” 

“I know.” your eyes were trained on the client’s face in front of you, a calm look washed over your visage as you faced the same person that gave you the scar on your forearm. “Did you hope you wouldn’t see me again? I understand our last conversation was distressing for you.” You spoke with a welcoming tone. It made you anxious to even be in the room with them, but they were someone in need. A person with anger issues was still a person underneath. 

“I.. yeah. I guess you could say that I just.. What you said made me feel like..” She mulled it over in her mind as if she was trying to find the right words to say to you. It was clear she felt remorse for her actions which was a good thing. “-like.. I don’t know, it just hurt, it made me angry that you pointed shit like that out, like it's supposed to be obvious.” 

You heard her words and gazed into her guilt-ridden blue eyes. What came next made them wide, as if she’d just witnessed something completely other-worldly. “I’m sorry.” you said. With the most sincere voice you possessed, you apologized to her. 

“Why are you apologizing? ..I’m the one who did that to you..!” She gestured to your forearm and a glossy layer of water covered her eyes. All you did was hand her a tissue as if her crying didn’t bother you at all — because it didn’t. It was normal, in fact, it was healthy. “I should be apologizing to you…” she muttered as she wiped her tears. 

“I’m apologizing to you because I hurt you,” you said simply, “You deserve to be treated like a person, with respect and without judgement.” 

“It was wrong, what I did.” She was sure of her statement but used it as more of a weapon to refute your statement than an acknowledgement. 

“It was and I'm proud of you for admitting that. It's a hard thing to apologize when you’ve done something wrong- It requires a type of vulnerability that you’ve mentioned you’re not used to.” you explained her feelings to her with a soothing tone, encouraging her to keep going on in her journey. “My only job is to help you get better and I understand that confronting these types of feelings is never easy, but I want you to keep trying, alright?” 

She only nodded, a few more tears slipping out. 

“You’ve come a long way from where you were at a year ago. Healing is never linear and you may go back to old patterns every now and then, but it will never erase the amount of progress you’ve achieved as long as you keep trying.” She nodded again at your reassuring words but with a smile on her face this time. 

“Yeah, I.. Thank you.” She clutched the used tissue and tucked it into her pocket. 

You looked at the time on your watch and offered a small smile. “Our time’s up unfortunately, but I'll see you again this time next week. Alright?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She got up and smiled at you before leaving the room. Once the door closed you were left standing in the cold room. With a heavy sigh, you collected your things and headed out of the old building. The prison you worked at wasn’t new, it had been around for decades but the atmosphere was anything but dreary, in fact it was quite lively. Most of the inmates knew who you were and didn’t really bother to pay much mind to you, which was perfect given how much of a recluse you were outside of your job. They never said much more than a greeting or a farewell and it was rare that they started conversations with you. You interacted more with the staff since you worked alongside them in a sense but the interactions weren’t anything special. 

Needless to say, your work life was pretty mundane. 

Much like your personal life — but it wasn't as if you were actively searching for something to change. You’d spent your life looking for stability and now that you had it, you were satisfied, at least that’s what you wanted to convince yourself of. Sure it got a little lonely every now and then but that was normal. You didn’t need anything else — or anyone else for that matter. 

Yet when you climbed up those familiar crimson carpet stairs and were greeted by the sight of a very familiar man standing in front of the door to the flat next to yours, it made an unknown warm feeling settle in your chest. You debated on whether or not to say something to your neighbor — To Simon — but you decided against it. What if he didn’t want to speak to you? He was probably tired from work anyway. You walked up to your door and juggled the keys in your hands looking for the right one. Just as you found your house key, a gruff voice — belonging to Simon —  grabbed your attention. 

“Afternoon.” he greeted awkwardly. 

You turned your head towards him slowly, not expecting a man — who was evidently closed off —  to start a conversation with you. Sure you got to know more about him and vice versa during the time the two of you spent at the coffee shop, but nothing had changed — he was still only your neighbor, just as you were to him. Even if your heart yearned for human connection, your brain kept denying you of it. A defense mechanism at its finest, as if it was infused within you like the blood in your veins. “Afternoon.” you hastily took off your earphones to give him your full attention. Gazing upon him for a moment, you noticed the way his dark-blonde hair relentlessly shined in the dim light of the hallway. Simon’s visage carried remnants of the eyeblack he presumably used for his job, it made him look dirty and tired — but you still smiled. “Did you just get back?” 

“Yeah, work n’ that.” he vaguely explained, “Sorry for leavin’ so abruptly.” 

You gingerly shook your head, “S’fine, wasn’t anything too important to be apologizing about anyway.” Your eyes remained locked on his as the two of you stood in the hallway. The both of you taking in the fact that you were in front of one another once again as if it was an other-worldly experience. 

“Guess so,” Simon said simply as he turned to you fully. “How’s the arm?” His eyes broke away from yours momentarily to glance at your still bandaged arm. Was he concerned about it? About you?

“Better than the last time we met,” you chuckled, “Finally got the stitches out, hurt a bit though.” Your comment made him chuckle. As a soldier, he was used to the feeling of removing stitches all too well. It took you a while to register that this was the first time you’ve seen him without his black surgical mask on. Simon’s face wasn’t littered with scars, but many of them were present — not uncommon for someone in his line of work. 

“When are you gettin’ the bandages off?” he asked you, an interested lilt to his voice as he did. 

“Friday this week at three. Why do you ask?” Your fingers ghosted over the bandages absentmindedly. The injury didn’t hurt much anymore but you did wonder if it would leave a scar. Simon’s eyes drifted from yours as if he was considering something but words failed to leave him. 

“No reason, just askin’.” 

“Alright then,” there was something off about his answer but you didn’t push. Clutching your folder closer to your chest as you inserted your key into the door and pushed it open you bid him a quiet, “Have a good afternoon, Simon.” The tall blond only nodded without a word as he watched you disappear into the comfort of your flat once more. He could burn holes into your door with the way he was intently staring at your close door with regret. Regret that despite his years, he still couldn’t form normal human connection outside of work. 

The key felt cold in his hand as he pushed it into the lock, his flat felt foreign — empty. There was barely any furnishings in it except for what was absolutely necessary: a couch in the living room, a widescreen television on the wall in front of it, his bed which sat lonely in his bedroom next to a nightstand that rarely held anything in it, stools that sat bare in front of the kitchen island. . .  He didn’t feel the need to decorate since he was always gone, but the bare walls and the popcorn ceiling of his apartment made him wonder about yours. 

What did yours look like? 

Did you have pictures on the walls? Were you the type to take care of plants? You did smell of lavender sometimes.. Was your living room lively? Was your room a silent reflection of you and your interests? There were so many questions that swirled in his mind as he left his keys hanging on the backside of the door and got settled. Questions that he hoped he’d get the answers to. 

If only he had the guts to try and get to know you. 

.

.

.

Work once again began to consume your life and you couldn’t be happier. 

It wasn’t too hard to fall back into the rhythm of things after the incident. Offering tissues to clients, helping them work through their deep-seated issues, talking about their daily lives, what their lives were like before imprisonment; It was all good work. The week passed by like a flash thankfully and soon enough came the time when the bandages would come off. When your doctor had first tended to your wound she notified you that it was likely to leave a scar — Shanks made from scratch in a jail cell weren’t exactly the best thing to be cut with. At the time, you could care less as long as you were alive. Now that the familiar white strips of bandage were gone, the lighter patch of skin shone through. 

You didn’t know what to think of it, to say the least. 

Your eyes spent a great deal of time just gazing upon the scar on your arm after your appointment. Though the TV was on in front of you playing a random sitcom, your mind was elsewhere. The lifted patch of skin on your arm bothered you. It was like a living reminder of your stupidity — it almost taunted you with the way it stood out. A frustrated sigh made its way from your throat as you got up from the couch and threw on a comfortable hoodie. 

Maybe a walk would clear your head. 

You grabbed your box of toothpicks and slipped the black stick in between your lips, stuffing the box in the back pocket of your jeans as you made your way out of your flat. When you pulled the warm key from the lock and turned to walk out, you almost jumped out of your skin upon seeing your neighbor next to you. He was lucky you didn’t shriek from the surprise of it. 

“Simon!” you whisper-yelled. Your hand flew over your chest as you leaned against your door to regain your composure. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Goin’ for a run.” he said simply as if he didn’t almost cause you a heart attack. “Didn’t mean t’scare ya. Sorry.” A sliver of a smile made its way onto his face. Simon was used to being intimidating because of his height and the fact that he was a high-ranking soldier. Usually, he wasn’t fazed by shocked reactions but seeing you genuinely startled by him was a little funny — considering you’d proved yourself to be extremely observant. 

A deep breath settled into your lungs while you straightened up. “Is that a habit of yours?? You almost gave me a heart attack..!” Granted, you were still a little shaken but at least it took your mind off things, specifically the scar that seemed to itch endlessly. 

Simon only peered down at you, a calmer look upon his face. “You ok?” his voice was as gruff as always. 

“Yeah, I’m fine- you said you were going out for a run? At this hour?” Somehow, you knew how to make a conversation feel as natural as breathing which made it easier for Simon to ease into your presence. It was something he could do mindlessly with you, he noticed. 

“Yeah. What are you doin’ out this late? S’pretty dangerous to be out.” The dingy light in the hallway flickered and the air was stale but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Being here, with him — talking to him — felt like a much needed release. It was astonishing how a simple exchange of words with him was akin to a taste of the finest water. You wondered how long you could preserve the stream this time. 

“Guess so,” you shrugged, biting on the toothpick mindlessly with your molars, “I just needed a distraction I guess.” You adjusted yourself to lean against the wall, your vision torn away from Simon’s visage. He guessed it was something you didn’t feel like talking about. 

So he didn’t ask; He only leaned up against the wall beside you. “. . .D’you wanna go on a walk?” His dusty auburn irises could see the ghost of a smile on your lips, a genuine one. 

“Are you asking me to join you?” 

“D’you see anyone else ‘ere?” 

You chuckled, “You’ve got jokes.” 

“I’ll tell ya some more if it’ll get that frown off you.” Simon snickered when he said it but you felt his words to be genuine, just masked under a joking tone. Maybe Simon had the capacity to worry for you after all, no matter how much sense it didn’t make to you. After all, you were just his neighbor. 

Nothing more. 

You pushed yourself off the wall and Simon followed after you. “Wasn’t frowning.” 

“Was too.” 

You wondered then, as you walked down the carpeted stairs beside him, if you could preserve this endless flow of natural, unfiltered, dialogue. In the comfortable silence that settled between the pair of you, the thought of keeping this night close to your heart seemed more enticing by the minute. 

taglist *ೃ༄ . . . @dwkfan . . @savannahsomething . . @thatghostlykid . .

© 2025 comesatimecomesashadow

[stvrkeysgal]

Hii!! I have a request for Drew x actress!reader, where they’re together and reader gets really sick on set where they work together, but she’s really stubborn and doesn’t say anything about it.

Just as they start acting on one of the scenes she gets dizzy, shivers and all that. Obviously everyone notices and Drew gets really concerned and like „why didn’t you say anything?”

OH MY GOD I LOVE U FOR THIS. anyway should i make drew x actress!reader a thing now?

taglist: @jadastarkey @tillysslife @hrtsforstrkysblog @hoefordrewstarkey @ladyatwalmart @drewssgirl

filming should've stopped at the first signs of your performance declining. with the way your words seemed weak enough, or your emotions being a little too dull for the scenes, everyone took notice of how you were feeling at the moment.

as much as possible, you tried to divert everyone's attention to something else, in order not to make them notice about your current state. but somewhat, not all of them bought your words or the way you acted.

you managed to get through some scenes, but not without the crew getting concerned and bothered about your state. "just take some time to rest, y/n. it's not good for you," one of the cameramen says.

you, being the stubborn girl you were, politely declined. "i can do it," you say through a weak smile. "just don't tell drew i feel sick."

you thought drew wouldn't notice at all, but it seemed to you that everything about you doesn't go unnoticed by him.

he doesn't say anything for the first few scenes, thinking you might've just caught a bug or eaten something bad. or was just feeling cold from the place's weather. one of the crew asked if you were alright, in front of drew—of course you just had to say you were, or you would've been a hindrance to filming. at least, it's what you think.

however, drew was keeping a close eye on you. watching your every move and your face, focusing on where you were starting to falter, and catching the differences between your usual self up to now.

he made sure to hold you a little bit tighter for some of the scenes, being extra careful as well, as if to keep you from falling.

but sure enough, everything gets to a point.

you started to feel dizzy, exhausted and every part of your body felt like they were about to give up. if your shivering from earlier wasn't too obvious, it was now.

so during mid-scene, while you stood in front of drew and your sickness starts to kick in, your legs give up, making you fall from where you stood. as if on cue, the filming stops and drew immediately rushes to you, catching you before your knees even hit the floor.

everything starts to fade by then—the lights, your hearing, your sight of everything. but you could make out some words drew was speaking. rushed and panicked words of "are you okay?" or "come on, stay awake for me" leaves his lips.

—

the next thing you remembered was waking up not in your trailer, but drew's.

he was sitting on the couch near his bed, head laid back on it while he rested. a smile formed on your lips, but the moment was killed when you realized why you were here in the first place. "drew?" you called out softly, voice still a little bit weak.

he immediately shoots up from his position, eyes finding you while he walked towards you. "are you crazy?" his statement seemed puzzling enough to you, but you understood where he came from. unfortunately. "i'm sorry," you said. "i—”

"what the hell were you thinking, huh?" he asks, grabbing your hands gently. "you are to rest the moment you feel something's wrong. you chose to film hrough it instead." your head falls down slightly, eyes meeting your intertwined fingers from below you. "i'm sorry, drew."

"why didn't you say anything? i asked the staff when you fainted. fainted! guess what they told me? you asked them not to say anything to me. why?"

"i didn't want them to cut the filming just because i was sick, and i didn't want you to worry about me." drew sighs at that, holding your hands tighter while his heart aches for you. "i don't want this to happen again. got it? next time you feel sick, you tell me. or the staff. i don't care. you just rest. okay?"

he leans in to hug you, while burying his face in your hair. you hug him back, wrapping your weak arms around his body. "thank you, drew. i appreciate it."

oh my god idk what this is but i thank u anon for sending me this request !! loved this sm 🥹 anyway i can't seem to finish anything else lately so pls bear w me while i finish my other works RAAAAHHHHH

> masterlist

[jyndor2]

I don't think anyone is saying Cassian should ONLY dutifully follow orders to a T and never think for himself. Even the extended materials for Rogue One say that Draven trusted Cassian to do some independent thinking on the fly - but that is because Draven trusted that Cassian was committed to the cause and also that he would GET the work done even if the way he went about it was different than what HE imagined (cough).

This is the titular character of a prequel to the story where Cassian is clearly, obviously so beaten down and burnt out because of a longtime commitment to building a revolution during a cold war period, a commitment that has pushed him to kill at least one ally but surely more than that. I don't need Cassian to never question his leaders. He would - that is normal and understandable.

But to ONLY see Cassian going rogue after getting a late start to becoming a rebel spy is a real flaw. Because sorry Cassian IS burnt out in Rogue One, and Jyn and the others help renew his revolutionary optimism. And this is so powerful and such a fundamental part of revolutionary organizing, for your comrades to help pick your spirits up when you are beaten down by being right but wayyy too early.

On Eadu, Cassian disobeys DIRECT orders. He doesn't just think for himself and get to the orders in a roundabout way. He chooses not to assassinate Galen Erso because he knows that not only is it morally fucked lol (and that is even arguable but whatever) but also it is strategically dogshit to kill the guy who knows exactly where the flaw in the Death Star COULD be before the rebels have a chance to even see if he is credible or if it's a ratfuck.

Yes, I love the part in the novel where Cassian looks at Galen Erso and sees Jyn in his eyes but lbr there are several cool and valuable interpretations of why Cassian puts his rifle down (like anything else). But there's also like Motifs In Visual Media 101 where rain in particular is indicative of renewal, transformation, rebirth and change - and CLEARLY Cassian is experiencing a moment of radical transformation into someone who actually WILL disobey a direct order in that scene.

Well, that doesn't work as a transformative moment if a week ago he's yapping off to Draven and getting confined to quarters for GOING ROGUE LOL

This is why I have said that in order to make Andor!Cassian's story work best, the show probably should have aged him DOWN instead of up. Start Kassa at 6 (Kerri even younger obviously), have the teen!Kassa actor (I'm sorry I'm blanking on his name) to play Ferrix!Cassian in S1 and then do most of S2 as him at like 19 or 20. And frankly cut the most of the first arc, most of the second, have Cassian witness the Ghorman genocide and tie it in to his own experiences AS a genocide survivor, give us Kay and Cassian earlier, even if the budget requires less Kay still give us a bit of his presence earlier, etc. And then do the lead up to Rogue One PROPERLY - and as much as I love Kleya and Luthen, it isn't their show. It isn't. Kleya's backstory is very similar to what Cassian's could have been - and should have been - and they could have EASILY done something along those lines with Kassa in order to show his commitment to the cause EARLY.

This doesn't mean he can't bitch and moan about the bad shit, or disagree with his orders, or be a shithead teen dirtbag, etc. Who doesn't start off as an anarchist on their road to a more pragmatic and realistic framework for revolutionary politics?

(lmfao omg im sorry anarchists not yall catching strays my bad. you guys do great work.)

But... also that is supposed to be a big point of contention for Jyn and Cassian - leftist infighting simulator from the start lmfao.

Anyway I just wanted to correct some of the framing of the critique of Cassian's revolutionary arc. Because no just because people are critiquing the show does not mean we don't get the point Tony Gilroy is going for. It just means we disagree with the premise.

[taylormarieee]

~you fell in love sweetheart~

A dean winchester drabble

Summary: you didn't expect to fall in love with your bestfriend, but it just kinda happened. no turning back now, you fell in love sweetheart.

word count: 1.6k

pairing: dean winchester x fem!bestfriend!reader

Warnings: some arguing, dean being a tease, reader being a bit tough, kissing, reader gets put in danger, some backstory on reader, and anything else im missing!

A/N: heyyyyy!!!! I'm backkkkkk! I HOPE I'M BACK TO STAY FOR A WHILE! such bad brain farts! I COULD NOT for the life of me come up with fic ideas. I know i still have some inboxes from a while ago so hopefully I can get back to those and my unfinished series! LOVE YOU GUYS! so glad I'm back on your screens!

you wouldn't say you're in love with dean winchester.

but to say the least, you were falling in love with dean winchester.

it scared you a lot, considering all that was on your mind was breaking his heart or worse, getting rejected and losing the best friendship you've ever had.

you were very reserved at times, before you even worked with the winchesters, you worked with your dad.

your dad trusted you and after your mom and dad split, you chose to stay with him.

you always researched and he would go out and find the damn thing(s) that were terrorizing innocent people.

you were like sam to your father. you were resourceful, helpful. you think about the times you helped your dad alot.

it motivates you to do the same for the winchesters. maybe more heavily for dean if you know what i mean.

today as always was just a normal day, or whatever hunters call a normal day.

you all stopped by bobby's place to get insight on a shapeshifter that was terrorizing young women by killing their partners and then killing the women.

you and sam are debriefing with bobby and dean about the case, well... more like arguing.

"dean thats stupid." sam says aggressively with his hands on his hips. you standing next to the younger brother with the same look of disbelieve on your face.

"so what your telling me is you want to use me as bait for our little woman killer." you say death glaring at dean.

"well it's not my best idea-" he starts off.

you interrupt saying, "you think!?" with an incredulous look on your face.

"as i was saying... it's not my best idea but it could work. there are billions of people in the world. who knows where this shapeshifter is hiding?" he says

"yeah and only a population of 200 in this town. I'm sure we can easily narrow this down to a certain village of people and track the damn thing down." sam informs.

"but he moves from town to town. there are similar repots in Michigan, Texas, Colorado, and others matching his description. reports that date back months, years even." bobby says scattering a bunch of newspaper reports on the desk.

"look, as much as i don't want to put you in danger cupcake, your are only solution at stoping this son of a bitch." dean says staring at you.

bobby and sam join in looking at you to see what your final answer is.

your too worried about the nickname he just gave you to process anything else.

so distracted the words slipped right out of your mouth before you could think.

"sure thing handsome." as the words leave your mouth, everyone in the room had a different reaction.

sam jerked his head and squinted his eyes in confusion, bobby shook his head and put his head down, and dean had the biggest smirk on his face.

you internally face palm. "uhm i mean yea i totally got this, but you all owe me a beer later." you say clearing your throat, the awkward tension clearly growing in the room.

"i'm uh, gonna take a walk." you say pointing towards the door before grabbing your leather jacket and walking out.

bobby and sam give dean a 'go after her' look and he stutters before rushing out after you.

"hey wait!" he yells out closing bobby's door. "wait for me, i wanna come too." he says.

you turn around and stop walking, eyes squinted in this South Dakota heat.

soon he catches up to you and you both give each other a tight-lipped smile before walking again.

"so, your really up for this huh?" he asks as you guys sit in his car.

"yea i guess can't stand the feeling of hearing about another dead girl and her spouse. it just sickens me you know? like sometimes i think about my mom and dad. what would i have done if i was in that situation? watching or reading in a newspaper about how my mom was killed and my dad? i would be angry."

you take a deep breath in and close your eyes for a few seconds, a technique your dad taught you to control your emotions.

"you okay?" dean asks. "yea i'll be okay, just trying to put myself in these women's shoes." you sigh.

"quick question. what did you mean by that back there. the nickname?" you ask, fidgeting with deans cassette tapes.

"oh cupcake? i don 't know, it just kind of slipped out. guess it was something to reassure you since you were shooting daggers my way." he says with a chuckle.

you giggle with him, "i guess your right, thanks." you say urning to face towards him.

"uh yea no problem." he responds. there's this silence between you two. not an awkward silence but a comfortable silence. one that's been shared many times before.

"so are we going anywhere or are we just going to sit here until i'm used as bait later tonight?" you ask kicking your feet up on his dashboard.

"I don't know? did you want to go somewhere?" he asks.

"well i did just say something didn't I?" you bark back.

"oookay so someones feeling a little bit sassy, did you put a stick up your ass?" he said chuckling as he starts the engine.

"no, but it'll be up your ass in a second if you don't start driving." you respond with your hands crossed over your chest.

"hey, this is my car. i'll drive when i want to." he says putting his foot to the gas and driving out the parking lot.

you guys finally make your way to a food joint and of course dean orders fries, a burger, and some pie.

you decided to order fries, a milkshake and a cheeseburger. you roll your eyes at dean, his obsession with pie grinding your gears but you don't say anything.

"god, whoever invented pie, needs some serious sex handed to them." he says munching on his pie.

"then why don't you go find the person who invented pie and fuck em yourself?"

"seriously whats your-" he trails off before proceeding to laugh his ass off.

"what's funny winchester?" you question. he continues to bawl and in the process, he almost drops his pie.

"i know what's got your panties in a bunch." he says.

"oh yea and whats that winchester?" you question with your deathly glare.

"you need some. like badly." he says smirking.

"I need some what? that nasty ass pie? I'm good thank you."

"no no no, not the pie, well maybe some cream pie but what i'm trying to say is you need to get fucked. your ass is all riled up and your just taking your anger out on me dummy. when was the last time you had sex huh virgin?" he chuckles at that last part.

you stare at him and then punch him in his nose. "you wanna know whens the last time a man fucked me winchester? well it was your brother 3 days ago, so suck on that asshole."

"what?" he says sternly holding his nose.

"you heard me." you say.

"god you really are a bitch aren't you?" he says before getting out the car to go throw away the leftover trash in the car.

you sit there and think about what you said quietly scolding yourself for what you just said.

god why couldn't you just tell him. tell him that he is all you want. he's your type, he's the one you pray to be with, he's the one you've fallen madly in love with. not his brother.

the car door opens again and the car shakes a bit from deans force to sitting in the drivers seat.

"look dean, about what I said- i'm sorry. I didn't mean it. me and your brother have never slept together because he's not the winchester I want." you take a deep breath and stare out your window.

"I like you dean. I know i'm pretty shitty at showing it but i've been your best friend for years. I never would have expected myself to fall this deeply for you or even fall in love with you at all, but these last couple of weeks have changed for me. I've started to notice how handsome you really are and notice that I really have liked you for so long I've just suppressed the feelings. I hope this doesn't scare you off but I think I'm in love with you dean winchester." you look down at your fingers as your eyes close at hearing the words come out of your mouth.

"wow cupcake, never thought i'd hear you say the words." he says with a chuckle.

he guides his hand to your chin and lifts your head up to look at him.

"you fell in love sweetheart, and so have I." he says before looking down at your lips and smashing his together with yours.

warm lips touching your slightly cold ones. his warm hand sending electric sparks to your body.

his tongue slightly slipping past and mingling with your own. the feeling is euphoric and it's loving.

you break off and stare at him, "so you like me too?" you ask.

"duh, I've liked you for a while actually, surprised you haven't noticed."

"oh your such an ass, guys make the first moves not girls!" you say covering your face in embarressment.

he chuckles and grabs your hands before placing one more kiss on your lips.

"eh, didn't have the balls just yet." he says and you laugh as he starts the car again and you both drive back off to bobby's.

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