#caleb I still love you but you sure are taking your sweet time to come back

[olibabart]

*ahem* I hereby declare Hayloft by Mother Mother the Sylus national anthem

[theres-a-body-here]

Recieving a love letter

Part two

You decided that the best time to give it to them (pause) is during a trial

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Internalized Homophobia, Death, some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

Impossible... You're both men

Kazan cannot accept this

This simply wasn't acceptable during his era

He immediately smashes your head in with his Kanabo on instinct

Gay panic defense

The evil has been dealt with, Kazan lets out a deep exhale

But...his eyes wander to the letter, still within your cold, stiff grasp

Advantages come from all angles... Don't they?

Kazan takes the letter, convincing himself he'll use whatever information he finds inside against you

It smells like you... Not that he checked

(He did)

A red wax seal holds the letter closed

Kazan looks closer

You had carved his family crest into the wax

Something foreign invades his body, something other than rage

It's nervousness

He opens the letter, making sure to keep the seal intact

For no reason in particular

(He's pocketing that mofo)

Instantly, he's impressed by your penmanship

So organized, clean, and sharp

But its contents are even more eye catching

The love letter is short and sweet

But what follows is even sweeter

A haiku

Kazan feels his heart skip a beat

He checks it once, then again, and one more for good measure

Yep, no mistakes

The loud pop of a gen echoes through the trialground, snapping him out of his trance

Kazan whips his head all around, looking for witnesses

Finding none, he pockets the letter

He stares at your lifeless body, feeling something else flutter in his chest

Guilt

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

Evan stares at you as you hold your letter out for him to take

After a long, uncomfortable silence, he takes it

He brings it to his face, inspecting it through the holes of his mask

Evan has absolutely no idea what to do here

He looks back at you

"Do you...want me to fuck you?"

Romantic gestures are new territories for Evan, so he honestly thinks this is just your way of asking for dick

Whichever the case, he has a job to do

He puts you down without hesitation and hooks you up, leaving without a second glance

He's still holding the letter

Part of him wants to rip it up, and the other is curious to know what you wrote

He sloppily tears the letter open, reading it hastily as he walks to the next gen

Evan stops when he reads a bit more

You weren't asking for a ball slapping, eye watering, toe curling, deep dick fuck...

You were asking for his heart

You wanted all of him, hooks and all

Okay now he feels a bit bad

Evan reads some more

You actually drew a portrait of him within the letter, saying you learnt of his knack for art from Philip

Now he feels even worse

He lets the others save you without hiccup

In fact, he basically leaves for alone for the rest of the trial

He stops chasing and hurting the others occasionally to stare at you from afar, observing that focused look on your face as you work on gens or heal a teammate

Evan feels butterflies and he no longer has the strength to swat at them

It doesn't matter if he kills all your friends or if they opened the gates and left; Eventually, you're alone with him

He holds your letter out, watching as confusion sets on your face

"I'm dirty and sloppy... I'll ruin it"

He sounds vulnerable, waiting for you to respond

You curl your hand over his, folding the letter into his palm

"I want you to keep it," you say softly, as of talking to an apprehensive deer

He doesn't know what to say

Whatever he was going to respond with gets stuck in his throat as you lean in to kiss the cheek of his mask

He watches as you leave through the exit gate, glancing down at the letter in his hand

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Obviously you're joking... Right?

Cuz there's no way you'd be attracted to someone like him— Old, beat-up, and grumpy

You'd have to push him some more if you want him to accept the letter

Convince him you're being genuine

Eventually, he gives in and takes the letter from you

He glances around nervously, like he's expecting the other survivors to jump out and laugh at him for falling for the joke

He opens the letter, stunned when he sees there's actually things written inside

A blush creeps into his face as he reads, only deepening when he reads more

After he's done, Caleb can't even meet your gaze

After a few moments of silence, he speaks

"I can.....uhhh....keep this... right?"

Talk about awk as hell

Even after the trial, he lies awake thinking about it

Caleb rereads the letter over and over

You're gonna have to be the one to seek him out outside of trials since he's way too embarrassed now

"Yer serious 'bout this, ain'tcha?"

He decides to let his guard down just a bit to let you in

Be prepared to give him lots of reassurance

"Yer sure ya ain't mistaken?"

Caleb isn't one for words, so instead of writing you a letter, he makes you trinkets out of scrap metal

If you kiss him as thanks, he'll actually die on the spot

So please don't... unless you're evil as hell

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

Wesker makes you kneel as you give him the letter

After snatching it out of your hands, he scans it meticulously

"I see you've made eleven spelling mistakes"

He enjoys the way you tense up instantly, like a puppy waiting to be put on punishment

"How adorable"

He ALLOWS you to watch him put the letter in his inner coat pocket

He would never admit it, but this certainly boosted his ego to new heights

Albert lifts you off the ground and tosses you over his shoulder

He carries you to the basement

"Stay here while I deal with your companions"

He leaves to kill the rest of your friends

After every hook, he pats his chest to make sure the letter is still there

He'll deny he ever did that if you ask him though

Once he returns, Wesker will bombard you with questions, expecting an answer within 5 seconds or less

What took you so long? What do you like most about him? Would you choose him over your friends? How can you satisfy him?

He loves how easily you crumble under his interrogation, blushing and stammering like a fool

Once he's had his fill, he picks you up again

He carries you to hatch

Before he lets you go, he grips your chin and makes you look at him

"I suppose I ought to leave you with something"

Wesker reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of sunglasses

"I hope you can explain this to your allies," he chuckles

Before you can protest, he puts them on you and drops you into the hole

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

Freezes in place and gasps when he sees you hold out your letter

He lets out a happy squeal before dropping his hammer and chainsaw to the ground

Bubba takes the letter from you gently, treating it like glass

He immediately plops onto the ground

He tears open the envelope carefully and take out the letter

He's completely forgotten about the trial

He reads the letter, shaking with excitement

It's sappy, sweet, and everything he's ever wanted

Even when the sounds of popping generators ring through the trial grounds, Bubba doesn't take his eyes off the letter for a second

He occasionally stops reading to either make a sound of happiness or cover his face out of embarrassment

Once he's finished, Bubba will stand up and pull you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up a bit and swaying you around like a ragdoll

You're definitely leaving this trial unharmed

He grabs your hand tightly, marching over to the hatch or exit gates and lets you leave with a goofy wave

The Entity doesn't even punish him for it since his joy was so great it made up for the lack of bad emotions from the survivors

He immediately works on writing a letter for you after the trial is over

The next time you see him, expect another bear hug followed by a letter being shoved in your face

It's messy, sticky, and covered in glitter

Crudely drawn hearts cover the inside as the letters are shaky and almost intelligible

But you can tell Bubba put his whole heart into it

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Instantly smug as hell

"Oh, what's that? That for me?"

He takes it from you and immediately tears it open, tossing the envelope behind him nonchalantly

His mask moves as he visibly reads through the letter, occasionally chuckling and shaking his head

Danny finds this scenario so fucking funny— A survivor having a crush on a killer

After he's done, he looks up at you

"Do you have daddy issues or something?'

He laughs loudly when he sees a hurt expression flash across your face, walking over to wrap an arm around your shoulders

"I'm just messing with ya, cutie"

Danny marches over with his head high to one of the hooked survivors, waving the letter in their face

You stand to the side awkwardly, unable to meet your friend's bewildered look

"Your homeboy is down bad for me. Whaddya think about that?"

The survivor grits their teeth struggling to keep the Entity's claw from puncturing their chest

"I think....Gah!...they.... have daddy issues...fuck!"

"THATS WHAT I SAID!"

You're never living this down

He goes around the map showing off your love letter to the others

After he finishes gloating, Danny hooks you

What? He's the Entity's favorite! He can't his reputation be tarnished

Outside of the trial, he follows you around like a shadow

He deadass interrupts your conversations with the others to tell you he wants attention, and you'd better deliver

Your love letter was basically an invitation for him to claim you as his own, whether you regret it or not

You're his now

Like a housecat that swats at others who get too close to their owner

"That kiss factory better be open, pookie"

He says shit like this in front of any survivor or killer

[bowieandqueen11]

Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...

Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.

I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)

Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!

(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.

You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.

'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!❤️🥰 just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! 🤞❌ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! 🐻😘'

Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.

The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.

So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.

The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.

When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.

Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.

Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 

Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.

And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.

With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.

This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.

This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.

Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.

He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.

'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.

'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'

'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.

'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.

He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.

But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.

'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'

'Told you what?'

'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'

For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.

'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'

'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'

The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.

And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.

Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.

That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.

He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.

He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.

But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!

Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.

Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.

You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.

[sporadically-writing]

Did you get a request? It's headcanons of dating Mollymauk, Essek, Caleb and Fjord. Thanks!

Love me some Crit Role prompts, hope you like 'em!

Mollymauk Tealeaf

Molly is chaos incarnate regardless of whether you are in a relationship with him or not. Your life with the Nein is never dull anyway, but especially not when Molly's around.

Molly, however, is also incredibly smart for essentially being two years old. He's perceptive and picks up things about people very quickly. He is also adept at using that knowledge for his own benefit. All this to say, he picks up on your crush on him very quickly.

And uses this knowledge for evil...

...constantly.

Molly flirts with you every chance he gets with every possible idea he can think of just to see what kind of reaction he can get. He's incorrigible, but you blush all the same.

Don't worry! He also finds a nice time to chat with you when the two of you are on watch and lets you know that he has become just as fond of you. He, "just likes teasin' you, love."

Will find every opportunity to make you laugh or smile and is your biggest supporter and defender on and off the battlefield.

He's your circus man. He loves you fiercely, loudly, and sweetly as the world allows him for as a long as he can.

Essek Thelyss

Essek is a very difficult man to get to know. But, it has been scientifically proven that he can be worn down. Just keep at it.

Once you find something to bond over, Essek can be very sweet. He, despite any attempts he makes to instruct others that he does not, has a very big heart and cares an awful lot about the people he allows to really see him.

If you have a problem he will do whatever he can, within his abilities and around his busy schedule, to help you.

He is very hard on himself and in some instances probably should be to a degree, but you have to be there to stop him and that brilliant but treacherous brain of his from hurting his poor heart and soul.

Watch out for him please. He's battling a lot.

A relationship with Essek would be a sweet and loving one but it would also be fraught with the dangers of the lines he walks on a daily basis. The good news is, the love the two of you share is more than enough to whether it.

Caleb Widogast

Caleb, like Essek, cares very deeply for those around him. But, unfortunately also like Essek, also suffers through a lot of mental and emotional torment of his own making.

He's gotten better being with you and the Nein but you can tell that he still struggles. The kind of things he's been through are not things you can simply forget. He may need your help in the mental fight against his demons every once and a while.

Caleb would need a lot of coaxing to get him to really open up to you about his feelings for you (I mean we all saw how he got around Jester sometimes). You might have to be the one to make the first move because he will likely have plans to keep that secret to himself until the end of time.

I feel like Caleb would oddly be really good at taking care of you? Like reminding you to get the proper amount fo sleep (after all, he knows exaclty how many hours you've been awake for), and eating the proper amount as well as taking breaks. But, at the same time, he is awful at doing that for himself. Watch this one, make sure he doesn't fall asleep with his head in a spell book.

I also imagine that Caleb, once you get to a certain point of comfort in the relationship, is as cuddly as his cat. Imagine that after a particularly long day, he just flops on top of you, absolutely exhausted, curling in to you. Probably mumbling things in Zemnian that makes absolutely no sense regardless of whether you speak the language or not. He's very tired, just hold him and let him sleep.

Caleb is a very attentive person and he remembers literally everything. He constantly mazes you by the things he remembers about you and your relationship. He loves you and that love comes through in the detail he puts into every magical creation that you are included in.

Fjord Stone

Fjord, Wildmother love him, constantly finds himself in ridiculous situations. You, as much as you love him, have to find the humor in it. You are always there to help him out, but you almost have to laugh at him sometimes. 

Regardless of his occasional fumbling, Fjord is very attentive and romantic. 

He finds his own ways to fluster you, finding moments to be almost comedically romantic like someone out of Jester’s novels.

He, being a Paladin, and a new one at that, most likely feels a need to protect or like he has to prove he can protect you. He knows you are fully capable of defending and protecting yourself and he never wants to step on your toes in that field (he, like everyone else mentioned, is a respectful boi) but he loves you and sometimes assumes that he needs to prove that he is worthy of loving you, prove that he can keep you safe, prove that he himself is safe for you to be around.

He knows how to make you smile in the simplest of ways. Whether it be a flower left for you, a kind word, a reassuring hand on your shoulder, Fjord somehow always manages to know when you need something sweet like that.

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Request Rules/Character Sheet

[crazyunsexycool]

Ooh Yayy I’m so happy because you’re my favorite writer here and for you to possibly write one of my ideas I know it’s gonna be perfect!🥰

Okayy so there’s “Sun Goes Down” by Charlotte Cardin and I feel like all of the lyrics could be applied to Steve or Bucky and it would really fit well! Especially the one about how they feel like every bad thing happening in the world is their fault and how life is really hard for them because I feel like Bucky with his Winter Soldier days would blame himself for a lot of things that have nothing to do with him and Steve feels responsible for the world and wants to save everyone without thinking about himself first So I imagine Reader singing it to them either she wrote it for them or she just knows it but you could do it however you want and I know it will be amazing!❤️

Sun goes down

Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: like angsty, lil fluffy

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: let’s pretend the reader wrote this song. I loved this request I love writing song inspired fics

The small bar was full. Mostly singers and songwriters filled the room in hopes to get a spot at the open mic night. You loved to sit in the corner and listen to everyone as you built your courage to get up there and share your own music. The bartender and the manager already knew you from how many times you’d show up. Always sitting in the corner with your notebook, always writing something. This was your little safe space away from the tower. When everything got to be too much you’d just slip out and head here to listen to the others express their own sorrows and struggles or happiness and triumphs.

Your current situation involved two super soldiers and their bad habit of closing themselves off from the world. It wasn’t your fault or anyone else’s for that matter. It just so happened that they carried more guilt than they should and sometimes it got to be too much for them. Most of the time Steve and Bucky let you in. They found comfort in your presence but lately they’ve pulled away from you and you weren’t sure why. You didn’t take it personally, you just wanted to be there for them the way they had been there for you after countless nights of self doubt.

Applause pulls your attention back to the room and you join in. The manager gets up on the little stage he has set up and clears his throat.

“Thank you Caleb, for that beautiful song. Now the next singer has been coming here for a while but this is the first time she’s actually going to perform. So please remember to be welcoming and supportive. Please welcome to the stage, Y/N.”

Everyone started clapping as they looked around for someone to head to the stage. Your eyes widened when you heard him call you out. The manager waved you over and you shook your head.

“Go on,” the bartender kneeled by your side. “You can kick ass but you can’t sing that song you’ve been writing and rewriting for the past few days?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m very observant. Just get whatever it is off your chest, you’ll feel better.”

“Ok.” You said after a few seconds.

You head toward the stage and there are quiet murmurs among the crowd as they recognize you. The manager moves out of the way and starts clapping for you. You take a deep breath as you stand in front of the mic, adjusting the stand to fit your height.

“Hey guys,” you clear your throat. “Like Kieth said I’m in here all the time, you’re all amazing. This song I wrote for two very special people in my life. I love them very much and they mean so much to me. I don’t think they realize how much actually.” You turn and grab the guitar that was on the stand. “Anyways they tend to be a little too hard on themselves sometimes and this is my way to let them know they’re not alone.”

You start playing the guitar. Soft sweet strumming filters through the speakers as you sing the first verse. Thoughts of Steve run free in your mind. All the things he’s been through and how he still managed to do the right thing.

🎶 “I've been wishin' for angels

To come down here to save ya

You said that the good guy never wins

And I haven't recognized you ever since.” 🎶

~~~~~~

It was still early in the morning. Almost no one in the tower was awake, except for Tony who probably hadn’t gone to sleep. You knew the last mission had been hard on Steve. Even as he tried to help get people to safety they criticized and yelled all kinds of awful things at him. So it wouldn’t surprise you if he was already up and in the gym.

That’s exactly where you found him. A few punching bags were already ripped and on the floor. He was sweating which meant he’d been there for hours. You knew he heard the door open and close, you also knew he wanted to be alone but you just wanted to check in and then you’d go back to bed.

Steve stopped when he knew you were sitting on the bench close to him. He was breathing heavily as he wiped away the sweat from his brow and his sorrow filled eyes found yours.

“How are you holding up?”

He just scoffed and shook his head.

You patted the empty space next to you and waited until he finally made his way over to you. Taking the towel that he had laid out you pat his face dry as he gets his thoughts in order. This was how you always worked, he would get out his frustrations in some type of exercise before talking it out with you or Bucky.

“I just want to do the right thing. Why can’t people see that? Our intention is not to go somewhere to hurt people.”

“I know but by the time we get there the bad guys have already wreaked havoc and high tailed it out. We stay behind to help as many as we can. They channel their fear and anger at us.”

“Seems like the good guy never wins.”

You pulled back to really look at him this time. He looked defeated and he didn’t sound like himself either. Especially considering the things he’d been through. He’d volunteered to be the test subject for the serum, basically getting pumped full of a drug to make him stronger. Then he found love only to have to sacrifice it in order to save the countless lives of innocent people. When he woke up from the ice he came face to face with the realization that the friendships he’d had were long gone. And even when he didn’t talk about it much you knew there were many things that made him anxious.

“Sometimes I wish I could just walk away from all of this.”

“But?”

“I don’t know, I think I’d be lost without it. I wouldn’t know how to find my way out there.”

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’m right here with you.” You lay your head on his shoulder and take his hand in yours. Steve turns and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes close as you sing the chorus.

🎶 “How you holdin' up?

Want me to stay the night?

When it's all too rough

I hope you'll realize

That I can hold your hand when the sun goes down

I'm gonna hold your hand when the sun goes down” 🎶

As you open your eyes and look down at your hands as you continue to play, you begin to sing the second verse. Inspired by Bucky.

🎶 “California's burnin'

Your heavy heart is too

You know the whole world is hurtin'

And it's not because of you.”🎶

~~~~~~~~

The guilt Bucky carried weighed him down so much he could rarely look up and realize he was a victim too. The nights when he would wake up screaming from a nightmare were always difficult for him. All he saw was the face of the innocent victim hydra had him kill. They used him to shape and bend the world at their will and he felt responsible for it. As if he’d willingly gone out and done those things.

This particular night seems to be rough for him. You knock at his bedroom door after hearing the helpless cries fall from his lips. A faint come in greets you. Bucky sits in the space between the bed and the window. Blankets and pillows lay around him. You sit next to him and he won’t look at you.

“Come here.” You whisper and he lays his head on your shoulder. He sucks in a stuttered breath as he fights his need to cry. Your hand softly runs through his long hair as you comfort him. “Just let it out. I’m right here.”

Bucky cries softly. His tears fall in your shirt until he calms down. He tries to pull away, slightly embarrassed from his breakdown.

“Hey, want me to stay the night?”

“I’d like that. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never.” You get comfortable on the floor and then pull him down so that you can wrap your arms around him. Bucky takes your free hand and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

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

🎶 “Hear you, buddy

Life's always been harder for you than it is for everybody

But your lucky day will come

I hear you, buddy

Life's always been harder for you than it is for everybody

But your lucky day will come.” 🎶

A small smile plays on your lips as you imagine Steve and Bucky happy. That’s all you want for them really. They deserve peace even if they think they don’t. You take a deep breath before you continue through to the end of the song.

🎶 “How you holdin' up?

Want me to stay the night?

When it's all too rough

I hope you'll realize

That I can hold your hand when the sun goes down

(Ooh yeah, I'm gonna hold your hand)

I'm gonna hold your hand when the sun goes down

(I'm gonna hold your hand)

I'm gonna hold your hand when the sun goes down

(I'm gonna hold your hand, gonna hold your hand)

I'm gonna hold your hand when the sun goes down.” 🎶

You play the last notes of the song and open your eyes. The room is dead quiet and you swallow thickly. This was your nightmare, it’s why you never had the courage to get up on stage. You quickly put the guitar back on its stands and the room erupts in cheers and applause. Heat creeps up your cheeks as you smile at the crowd. Kieth stands next to you and pats you on the back with a proud smile on his face.

“Wow, what do I have to do to get a song like that written about me?”

“Free mozzarella sticks for life.” You yell in response as people in the crowd laugh.

You head back to the table you had been at and grab your bag and notebook. Your hands were trembling from the rush. People in the bar compliment you as you pass by. As soon as you’re outside in the fresh air you take a deep breath. At least now you could say you checked something off your bucket list. Actually singing your own song in front of a crowd had always been a nerve wracking thought but it was also a rush. With a smile etched on your face you turn to head back to the tower. Maybe you could get Steve and Bucky to come out of their rooms or the gym.

“Y/N.” You heard Bucky call your name and you turned around.

He and Steve were standing in front of the bar and you hoped they hadn’t heard the song or what you said before it. But as they walked toward you, you knew they had. Bucky’s eyes were red rimmed and teary while Steve’s gaze softened the longer he looked at you.

“Hey guys,” you stood up straighter as you looked between them. “It’s good to see you out and about. What are you doing here?”

“We went to look for you and when we couldn’t find you we assumed you were here. You always say you love this place and so we thought we’d come check if you were here.” Bucky tells you.

“Oh. So um did you just get here?”

“Not exactly,” Steve gives you a bashful smile. “We were in there when you were called up. Was that about us?”

You try to think of a lie but you can’t so you just nod and look away.

“Did you mean it, what you said before the song?”

“Every word.”

“And the song?”

“That too.” You look back at them.

Bucky holds his hand out and when you place yours in his he pulls you closer. You’re chest to chest with him and he smiles at you.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your eyes widen. And you look over at Steve to find him smiling softly. He nods in Bucky’s direction.

“Ok.”

Bucky’s soft lips connect with yours. Butterflies flutter in your belly and you hope they can’t hear how your heart beat picks up. When he pulls back Steve is standing much closer and Bucky turns you in his direction only for the former to lower his lips to yours. You think you must be dreaming, there’s no way that none of this is happening. But when Steve pulls away and rests his forehead against yours and you feel Bucky pressed up against your back you know it’s real.

“We love you too.” He says. There’s a glimmer and light in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. “I think today is our lucky day, what do you think Buck?”

“I agree, only if you’ll have us of course.”

“What?”

“We both want to show you how much you mean to us. What do you say? Will you let us hold your hand when the sun goes down?” Steve smiles at you. It’s like he already knew the answer before you did.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Steve takes your hand and brings it up to his lips while Bucky kisses you cheek. When you part the latter offers you his arm and a boyish smile.

“Would you sing it for us again?” He asks as the three of you walk back to the tower.

“Of course, it is your song after all.”

“Do you have more songs?” Steve asks as he holds your other hand.

“So many.”

“About us?”

“Maybe.” You smile up at him.

“Do we get to hear them?”

“I don’t know.”

“So a room full of people get to hear our song but not us? That’s not fair, Doll.” He stops and causes you and Steve to stop too. “Please tell us we can listen to you singing. Please baby.” He pouts.

“That’s not fair.” You turn to look at Steve and he’s pouting too. “Not you too.” You say with a laugh. “Fine, I’ll play you all the songs that I’ve written about you. Does that make you happy?”

“No.” They say in unison.

“You do.”

You smile and start walking again. Steve and Bucky ask you all kinds of questions about the music you’ve written. The more you tell them the more excited they get.

Once you’re back in your room, you pull out your guitar and start playing some of the songs you’ve written. You share soft touches and kisses as you tell them which song you wrote for them. By the end of the night you’re cuddled up between them. You remind them that they deserve so many good things.

And through the good, the bad and the love you’d always hold their hands when the sun went down.

Taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@darkhairedmenrule

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Spoonful Of Sugar (This fic is canon divergent)

Caleb enters his bedroom with a metal pail filled with water and a rag floating inside.

His mother was sitting on a small wooden stool, taking care of a sick Philip in bed.

Patience was doing everything she could to bring down her youngest son's viral fever.

"Here's the water you requested," Caleb informed Patience, putting the bucket down beside her.

Thanking her oldest, she reached inside for the wet rag and started wringing the water out.

After that, she folded the cloth before placing it on top of Philip's forehead.

This would help cool down his skin and temperature a bit, thus providing him with some relief from his fever.

"Mother, is Philip going to be okay?" Caleb asked in a timid voice, gazing at his mother with troubled eyes.

The small blonde was extremely worried about his baby brother.

He wanted him to recover from his sickness.

Caleb received a small nod from Patience followed by a soft smile. "He will. I'll make certain of it," She assured him as the blonde smiled hopefully at her before leaving.

Patience returns her attention to Philip.

"Philip, would you be willing to sit up for me? I have something I want you to take."

Despite his discomfort, Philip managed to sit up and saw his mother bring a tablespoon of black syrup to his lips.

"Open wide," She gently instructed.

After taking a small sniff of the strange, syrupy liquid, Philip immediately wanted to gag.

It smelt awful!

The fact that the liquid didn't look appetizing to have inside his mouth didn't help either.

Philip shook his head.

"Mm-mm!" The brunette uttered in a pouty voice, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Now Philip," Patience began, a hint of sternness in her sweet voice, "Your sickness requires the help of this medicine. My mother would always give it to me whenever I was ill."

"But mother," Philip complained in a whiny voice, "I don't want it! It looks and smells icky."

He wasn't entirely wrong, Patience thought.

Taking medicine as a child was not a pleasant experience for her either.

The scent and taste were not enjoyable.

"How about this? I'll make sure to bring you something sweet to soothe the bitter taste of your medicine if you take it," Patience promised with a smile. "How does that sound?"

For a moment, Philip contemplated the offer.

On a day like today, something sweet seemed promising.

"Okay then." He nods in agreement, opening his mouth as Patience inserts the spoon inside.

While taking out the spoon, Patience notices that Philip is still holding the medicine in his mouth and looks as though he wants to spit it out badly.

"I understand it's unpleasant, Philip, but please swallow it all," Patience advised.

After swallowing the medicine with a silent sigh, Philip immediately makes a face.

"Blech!" He said, sticking his tongue out.

"Thank you." Patience smiled as she stood up from her stool and walked to the door. "I'll be right back."

...

Patience had a hot cup of tea in her hand when she returned to the room, taking a seat back on her stool.

She begins to blow on some of the steam that is coming from the cup before giving it to Philip.

"Here, Philip, I added a spoonful of sugar to your tea. That should make the medicine go down," she stated as Philip took the cup to his lips and started to gulp down the tea.

"Little sips, Philip," Patience advised as Philip began to take his time sipping the warm liquid.

He lowered the cup. "Thank you, Mother!" He beamed, taking another sip of the warm drink.

He was happy to get rid of the unpleasant medicine taste.

"I love this tea! It's so sweet!"

"I know that you have an affinity for sugar," she giggled.

He obtains it from her. "When you've recovered, would you be interested in dessert?"

Philip's blue eyes lit up as he quickly nodded to the idea.

"YES, I WOULD! I WANT APPLE PIE! 🍎 🥧"

"Very well then."

"WITH ROSEWATER ICE CREAM!"

Patience playfully sighed at her son's second request, still smiling at him. "You and your sweet tooth... Fine. Apple pie and rosewater ice cream once you're well."

"Can you, me, and Caleb make the pie and ice cream together?"

"Of course."

As he brought the cup of tea to his lips for the second time, Philip smiled back at his mother.

[deancodedinthewater]

Pilot Part 1

Mommy carried Deanna into Sammy’s nursery and flicked on the lights. “Come on,” she said, tapping Deanna on the nose. “Let's say goodnight to your brother.”

When Mommy set her down, Deanna climbed up the bars of Sammy’s crib so she could kiss his forehead. “'Night, Sam,” She whispered to him.

Leaning down beside her, Mommy brushed Sam’s hair aside and also kissed his forehead. “Good night, love.”

“Hey, Deanna,” said her Daddy from the doorway and Deanna threw herself at him.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, baby,” Daddy said as he scooped her up into his arms. Deanna giggled. “So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?”

“No, Daddy,” Deanna told her Daddy, sternly glaring at him.

“Course not,” Daddy said, laughing.

“You got her?” Mommy asked as she made her way out of Sammy’s nursery.

“I got her,” Daddy replied, squeezing Deanna against him. She giggled again. “Sweet dreams, Sam,” Daddy said as he flicked the lights off and made the short trip to her room.

He tucked her in and ruffled her hair. “How’s my baby girl doing?”

Deanna frowned at him. “Not a baby!” she said, crossing her arms.

“Course you aren’t. You are the biggest kid. Practically in charge,” Daddy said, laughing.

“Yeah!” Deanna agreed, nodding vigorously, her hair flying everywhere.

“Big kids still have to go to sleep though.” Daddy tucked her back in after she’d dislodged all the blankets. “You sleep well now and maybe we’ll toss around that football without Sammy.”

“Okay!”

-

"Daddy?" Deanna stumbled out of bed when she heard the yelling. Before she could really register what was going on a bundle of little brother was dropped in her arms and her daddy was yelling in a panic.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don’t look back!" He yelled. "Now Dee go!" And Deanna ran. She hugged Sammy as close to her as she could and sprinted as the house behind them exploded.

Daddy swooped them both up into his arms as Deanna started down the front steps. Against the car that was about to become their home, Deanna watched their old one burn down. She pressed herself back into Daddy’s chest as she realised she had seen her Mommy burning on the ceiling. Daddy’s arms tightened around them both.

~22 years later~

Dean had been in California a couple times since Sam left. Not often enough that it was a habit or anything but he stopped by every time he was nearby so he could check on the kid. Make sure he’s okay and all that. What kind of older brother would he be if he didn’t?

This time though. Dean knew it was different. There were so many other people he could have gone to. Caleb, Pastor Jim, Rufus, he could have asked Bobby to come. The old man was the one requesting he get help, after all. The point is, Dean had lots of people he could ask to help him but the only one he actually wanted the help from was Sammy. And if that meant dragging him away kicking and screaming- he probably wouldn’t go that far but he would really like to.

Student accommodation at Stanford was not all it was cracked up to be, from Dean’s perspective. He had stayed in some pretty shady places in his time and he would have thought that fancy college accommodation would be a little better than some of the rent-by-months they had stayed in as kids. At least it was better than a motel.

Scanning the fire escape, Dean reckoned he could scale that pretty easily and jimmy the window into Sam’s apartment on the third floor without much trouble. And as he started climbing he gave himself a metaphorical pat on the back for remembering which floor Sam’s apartment was on. He then gave Sam a metaphorical shake when he reached his window. It was unlatched. 

Dean climbed through the window with ease. He could feel the burn of his freshly healed top surgery scars stretching but it wasn't bad, coming up the fire escape instead of scaling the walls probably helped with that. As he made his way to Sam’s kitchen he reminded himself that he wasn’t just doing this for himself. Sam would want to know that Dad was missing. Even if he didn’t want to help Dean.

Speaking of, Sam tackled him and Dean fought back. Sam had grabbed him by the shoulders. Dean knocked his arm away and aimed a punch at him.

Sam ducked. Dean grabbed his brother’s arm and spun him around, shoving him back. Sam kicked. Dean blocked. They scrambled against each other until Dean knocked Sam over and pinned him down, elbow at his neck and his other hand holding Sam’s wrist against the ground.

"Woah easy tiger," Dean said, grinning.

"Dean?" Sam asked, gasping for air, and Dean responded by laughing. "You scared the crap out of me."

"That's cause you're out of practice," Dean told his brother. Sam responded by grabbing Dean and slamming his heel into Dean's chest. Which hurt like a bitch.

Dean hit the floor with an oomph. "Or not." His scars burned more now but he wasn't going to let that show. Though when Sam tapped his chest, right where the drains were, Dean shoved him off. "Get off of me."

Sam rolled out of the way and offered Dean a hand up. Dean, begrudgingly, accepted it and surreptitiously rubbed his chest.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked when they were both upright.

"Well I was looking for a beer," Dean teased, shaking Sam by the shoulders. Sam repeated his question. "Okay, alright," Dean said, giving in. "We gotta talk."

"Uhh, the phone?"

Dean gave Sam a hard look through the darkness. "If I'd've called would you have picked up?"

Before Sam could answer the light flicked on and both brothers blinked. "Sam?" A sleepy voice said from the doorway and Sam and Dean turned in unison. In the doorway stood a girl, Sammy's age, in shorts and a smurfs crop top.

"Jess. Hey," Sam said, shoulders relaxing. Dean almost rolled his eyes. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jess." Dean gave Jess an appreciative once over. Sammy had hit the jackpot with this girl. 

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jess asked and then in a whisper, that Dean thinks he isn't supposed to hear, she added, "He doesn't look trans."

Dean stiffened and hid it behind a flirty smile. "8 years on T does that for a guy," he said. "And I've gotta say you are way out of my brother’s league. Love the smurfs though."

"I'll just go put something on," Jess said, turning to head back towards their bedroom.

"No, no, no," Dean said, stopping her in the door. "I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." Dean pointed at Sam over his shoulder. "I need to borrow your boyfriend here to talk about a private family matter."

"No," Sam said, pushing past Dean to stand with Jess. "Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Jess."

Dean schooled his expression. He very nearly laughed in Sam's face. "Okay," He said, looking Sam dead in the face. "Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam rolled his eyes. "So he's working overtime on a Miller's time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." 

Dean dropped his head. Sam very clearly hasn't told Jess anything. How to get him to pay attention without telling her? His head snapped back up. "Dad's on a hunting trip," Dean said. "And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Jess glanced up at Sam. A confused frown pinching her forehead.

"Jess, excuse us," Sam said. "We have to go outside."

-

"I mean you can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to drop everything and hit the road with you," Sam said as he followed Dean down the stairs.

Dean turned, a few steps below Sam, and looked up at his brother. And ouch, looking up at Sam. Dean would never get used to that. "You aren’t hearing me, Sammy. Dad's Missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst?" Sam asked. "Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

Dean stopped and fully turned to face his brother this time. "Not for this long," Dean said. And yeah, Sam had a point. John was gone for weeks at a time when they were kids. But John had gone missing just after Dean's surgery and the only reason Bobby even let him go after 4 weeks was because Dean had promised he would find help. "Now are you coming with me or not?"

"I'm not."

"Why not?" Dean refused to admit that that was a whine.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

Dean shook his head. "Come on," he said. "It wasn't easy but it wasn't that bad." Dean started walking again. After a moment Sam's footsteps followed.

"Yeah?" Sam said and Dean could feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. "When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45."

Dean paused with his hand on the door. "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old!" Sam protested. "He was supposed to say don't be afraid of the dark."

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me?" Dean almost laughed but he thought that might actually turn this into a fight. "Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there!"

"Yeah, I know," Sam sighed. "But still. The way we grew up, after mom was killed, and dad's obsession with finding the thing that killed her. Just look at the way he treated you when you came out." Dean bristled and refused to look at Sam. "He didn't care that you were a boy Dean. All he cared about was another soldier in his war. And we still haven't even found the thing. Just killed every other evil thing we've found."

Dean clenched his fists. Took a deep breath and released it. "We saved a lot of people doing it, too."

"Do you think mum would have wanted this for us?"

Dean slammed the door open and marched to his car. Sam caught up with him on the front steps.

“The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.”

“So what are you going to do?” Dean asked as they stopped by the Impala. “You’re just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean was angry. Even if he left the hunting life he would never get to have a normal life.

“No,” Sam said, calmer than he had been up till now. “Not normal. Safe.”

Dean scoffed and turned away. Safe was out of the cards for him too. “And that’s why you ran away.”

“I was just going to college,” Sam said, gesturing around them at the campus. “It was Dad who said that if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, well, Dad’s in real trouble now. If he’s not dead already. I can feel it.” Sam didn’t say anything and Dean looked over at him. He thought about telling him why he was here. Bobby said I could only leave if- It would be so easy. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, Sammy,” Dean snapped, turning on his brother. “I can’t. Not this time.”

Sam sighed. He dropped his head and Dean could almost see the cogs turning in his little brother’s head. “Why?”

Dean knew it was coming. That simple question. He took a deep breath. “I promised I wouldn’t,” He said, quietly. “I promised Bobby that I would get you if I was going to chase dad.”

Sam looked back up at him. He sighed again. “What was he hunting?”

Grinning, Dean spun around and popped the trunk. He lifted up the spare wheel cover and propped it on a shotgun. As he hunted through the contents he muttered to himself. “Alright, let’s see, where did I put that thing?”

Sam leant against the car beside him. “So, when Dad left, why didn’t you go with him?”

Dean glanced over at him. “I was-” he considered lying. “I’ve been out of action for 4 weeks. Bedrest in Bobby’s spare room for the first one.”

Sam jerked as if the news gave him a physical shock. “Dean,” He said. “What happened?”

“Oh don’t get your panties in a twist. I was out because of surgery. And either way I’ve been hunting on my own.” Dean pushed aside a grenade launcher and shuffled some silver knives out of the way.

“Dad, let's you go on a hunting trip on your own?”

Dean glared at him. “I’m 26, dude.”

Sam shook his head. “What was the surgery?”

“Alright, here we go,” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s question and rifling through the folder he pulled out. “So Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.” He handed Sam the printout of Jericho Herald. “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”

Dean watched Sam’s eyes track across the page as he read it. Hoped the hooks of the hunt would pull his brother in. 

“So?” Sam said and Dean felt his hopes die a little. “Maybe he was kidnapped.”

“Yeah well, here’s another one in April,” Dean said as he tossed another Jericho Herald at his brother. “And another in December ‘04, ‘03, ‘98, ‘92. Ten of them over the past 20 years.” He flipped each year’s article over as he said it and then grabbed the ones he had given Sam and shuffled them back into the folder. “All men, cis before you get any ideas. Same five mile stretch of road.”

From a bag in the trunk, Dean grabbed a tape recorder. “It started happening more and more, so Dad left me at Bobby’s and went to go dig around. That was 4 weeks ago. I hadn’t heard from him since, which is bad enough.” He shook the tape recorder. “Then I got this voicemail yesterday on my way cross country.”

Dean flicked the play button and John’s voice came out staticky and distant. “Dea- Dean-” the recording said. “Something big is starting to happen- I need to try and figure out what’s going on- It may- Be very careful, Dean. We’re all in danger.” Dean pressed the stop button.

“You know there’s EVP on that?”

“Not bad, Sammy,” Dean said, nudging Sam with his elbow. “Kinda like riding a bike, isn’t it?” Sam shook his head and Dean grinned. “Alright. I slowed the message down, ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.”

When he hit play again a woman’s voice said “I can never go home...”

“Never go home.”

Dean dropped the tape recorder and then closed the trunk, leaning his hip on it. “You know, in almost two years,” He said looking up at his little brother. “I’ve never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.”

Looking up at his apartment window, Sam sighed. He looked back at Dean. “Alright I’ll go. I’ll help you find him.” Dean nodded and went to open the driver’s door. “But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.” Sam turned back to the main doors.

Dean stopped him. “What’s first thing Monday?”

“I have this...” Sam said, half turning and stopping before starting again. “I have an interview.”

“What a job interview?” Dean dismissed, waving his hand. “Skip it.”

Sam turned fully now. “It’s a law school interview,” he said. “And it’s my whole future on a plate.”

“Law school?” Dean laughed, smirking.

“We got a deal or not?” Dean just got in the car.

As he sat and waited he rubbed at his scars through his shirt. Climbing through Sammy’s window was probably a mistake but the way Sam had reacted had been worth it. Worth the soreness to scare his little brother.

Dean cranked up the radio and pulled out his phone. He flipped it open and scrolled through his texts. Bobby had asked for a check in 3 hours ago. Dean didn’t want to call in case he had the conversion for Sioux Falls wrong so he dropped a text in reply ‘Got Sammy. Heading for Jericho.��

Sam came back down 4 songs in and tossed his duffle on the back seat before climbing into the passenger side. “Monday morning.”

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Dean said, as he pulled away.

-

Troy held his phone loosely in his hand as he drove down Centennial  Highway. “Amy, I can't come over tonight,” he said down the phone, eyes on the road. He paused, listening to Amy. “Because I've got work in the morning, that's why.” He listened to Amy’s response and sighed. “Yeah, okay, I miss it and my dad's gonna have my ass.”

He flinched and pulled his phone away from his ear briefly. That screech was not coming from his phone. He glanced around and spotted a woman on the side of the road, her white dress tattered and threadbare. Troy blinked when she vanished and pulled his phone back to his ear.

“Hey, ah, Amy,” he said. “Let me call you back?” Before she could answer he hung up. As he hung up the radio turned on

I got this feeling and it's deep in my bah-tay

It gives me wiggles and it makes my rump shake

I said ho!

Troy smacked it and twiddled the dial but nothing changed. The lights on his dashboard flickered.

If I should touch you

Might be electrocuted

I said ho!

Deep in your body

When he looked up, the woman was back and Troy pulled over next to her. He leant across the passenger seat and asked, “Car trouble or something?”

The woman stared at him for a moment and Troy could have sworn she flickered like a worn out video.

Finally, she spoke. “Take me home?”

Troy shrugged, and opened the passenger door. “Sure, get in.” She climbed in and shut the door behind her. “So, where do you live?”

“At the end of Breckenridge Road.”

Troy nodded.

“You coming from a Halloween party or something?” He asked, looking over at her. His eyes caught on just how low-cut her dress was. He looked away, laughing nervously. “You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here.”

She looked at him and smiled, pulling her skirt up. “I'm with you.” 

Troy averted his eyes. The woman grabbed his chin and pulled his head until he was looking at her.

“Do you think I'm pretty?” She asked. Troy nodded, eyes caught on her low-cut dress again.

“Uh...huh.”

“Will you come home with me?”

Troy’s eyes went wide and he looked up at her face. “Hell yeah,” he said, pulling away hurriedly.

-

He stopped the car in front of a house that looked like it had been abandoned longer than he had been alive. Crumbling walls and rotting wood all that’s left of what may have been a nice house once.

“Come on,” Troy said, glancing over at her and seeing the longing look in her eyes. “You don't live here.”

Rather than answering him she kept her eyes on the house. “I can never go home,” she whispered.

“What are you talking about?” Troy asked, leaning forwards to get a better look at the house. “Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?” Troy glanced over at her. Then he turned fully in the seat when he realised she wasn’t there. The back seat was empty too. 

“That's good,” he said as he climbed out of the car, nervously glancing around. “Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?” Tentatively, he stepped towards the house. “Hello? Hello?”

Cupping his hands over his eyes, Troy looked through a hole in the screen door of the old house. With how dark it was he couldn’t see much but there was a picture, covered in dust, that he could just make out of the woman and two kids. Something inside moved. Troy fell over. He scrambled to his feet and ran for it. As soon as he was in his car he floored it in reverse.

As he drove he kept glancing behind him. Nothing. He sighed in relief but glanced one last time in his rear view. The woman was in his back seat. The car smashed through something. The woman reached for him. Troy screamed.

Masterpost

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 12: We Will All Be Changed

Prev - We Will Be Changed - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3073 - Rated: T - CW: arguing, redacted slur, flashback, dissociation

Speak now don't tarry on like it's Always gonna be Hold child this expectation But don't forget to love - We Will All Be Changed, Seryn ---

Still two miles out from his exit home, Logan gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, jaw muscles twitching in his effort to stay silent in the face of Kelly's rant. “And don’t you dare lecture me about responsible parenting, Logan,” Kelly hissed, twisted in her seat and glaring, finger stabbing the air next to him, punctuating each word. “I’m not the one who left a thirteen year old alone with some strange man! I never would’ve agreed to him not coming if I’d known that’s who'd be watching him!” She scoffed, one artfully polished nail scraping against his sleeve. “No wonder you were in such a rush to leave and didn’t invite me in!”

“You arrived almost an hour later than we—”

“There was traffic!”

“Yes, and Virgil was anxious we would hit even more traffic on the way up to Bellingham.” He inhaled slowly and checked his mirrors, then his speedometer, forcing more of his attention back to his driving and ignoring the cold churn in his stomach. It would be fine. The worst she would do in a moving car was yell. “Our son is perfectly well cared for. Roman is my boss' brother-in-law. You’ve even met him before.” Hiding his relief that Kelly did not seem to remember anything about Roman, Logan signaled, checked his mirrors, then his blind spot before changing lanes for the upcoming exit back to his house. “At Seattle Law, he was an assistant teacher at the child care center that Remy and Virgil attended. He's great with kids and is a really good guy.“

Kelly sucked her teeth and turned up the radio. “Can he handle Patton's behavior problems?”

It hadn't taken long for Kelly to return to this old thread. Better this than Roman? He wasn't sure. “We’ve discussed this.” Logan gritted his teeth and breathed past the phantom ache in his fingers. He flexed his hand before saying, very quietly, “Neurodivergency is not a behavioral problem.” 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She looked around as Logan signaled again and slowly eased onto the off ramp. “Wait. This is the wrong exit. We always take 18 to get to your place.”

“Yes. My home is equidistant between this exit and the next. Unless there is road work on 124th, when traveling South, I take this exit.”

“Well, you should take the other one.” Her eyes bored into him but kept his attention on the road and his mirrors. “We always do,” she said again, the fresh emphasis telling him who she was talking about.

“So, how is Mark?” he asked weakly. His blatant desperation to change the subject, his desperation to short circuit yet another fight was just blood in the water.

“Smooth, Logan,” she sneered, but then her tone went syrupy sweet. “Mark is great. In fact tomorrow, we’re looking at houses up in Bothell. We’re looking at the schools up there, too…”

Logan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened reflexively and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She smiled back. “We wouldn’t dream of making any changes to the parenting plan without going through the proper channels, of course,” she murmured softly, like thunder in the distance. “Won’t it be nice for Patton and his new little brother to go to the same school?”

“Patton starts ninth grade in the fall,” his brow furrowed, alarm bells screaming in his head. “And…” It took a moment for the name to surface. “Caleb is a second grader.”

“Heritage is a private school for grades K through 12,” Kelly remarked. “Patton would have good influences there.”

Logan frowned. “Heritage is a religious school,” he remarked before he could stop himself. “And they’ve been taken to court at least four times this year for viola—”

“Last I checked, Logan, there was still freedom of religion in this country,” she said airily. Again, he felt her eyes on him. Stopped at a red light, he glanced over and shuddered at her little smirk. She was baiting him and he knew it. But he couldn’t hold his tongue.

“Patton is happy where he is,” Logan said carefully.

“Patton is coddled where he is,” Kelly snapped, sickly sweet tone evaporating in a snarl. “He’s going to need to get his grades up if he has any hopes of scholarships like his brothers. He needs to start taking his education seriously.”

Logan breathed slowly and again counted to five before speaking. “Kels, that is a mischaracterization of Patton’s school experience and—”

“Don’t call me that.” She fell silent for a while before shrugging. “Besides, it isn’t completely up to you anyway. Mark will be his stepfather soon and he has a say in the matter.”

Logan did not answer, and, with more than a little relief, turned into his driveway alongside Kelly’s candy red BMW. She flung open the door and jogged up the porch steps before he could even cut the engine. Counting his breaths, Logan set the parking brake, shifted into Park, then turned the key and followed her.  

~~~

She stepped aside only long enough for Logan to unlock the door, then pushed her way through, not even waiting for him to pull the key from the lock. “Patton? Patton, honey?” she called out in her PTA mom voice. Logan’s skin crawled at the saccharine tone, her words still edged with the promise of… anger or retribution or—

“Oh, hi, Mom,” Patton’s voice echoed down the hall. Logan’s hand shook as he struggled with the key and he forced a slow breath, on old, slimy panic inching up his throat. “You’re back. Where’s—“ His voice muffled at the end, probably pulled into a hug. Logan finally retrieved the key and stepped inside. Guilt clashed with relief when he saw Kelly hugging Patton, both smiling. Patton looked up and, impossibly, his smile grew. “Dad!” he said and wiggled out her hold to grab Logan’s hand. “Look at what I did today!” he tugged Logan closer to their chore chart and the long row of happy face stickers next to his name.

“I got all my homework done, hung up all my clothes, and took out the trash,” he pointed at the chart, bouncing on his toes. “All the trash, too, and emptied the dishwasher. And Roman even helped me make dinner!”

“He didn’t need much help,” Roman’s low voice rumbled from the kitchen and he stepped out, drying his hands. He’d tied on Logan’s well-worn ‘Combine for Pie’ apron, the top tight over his broad chest. But it… suited him, the faded navy blue accenting the green in his eyes, bits of cornmeal smudged at the apron's edges only proving its worth. Roman ruffled Patton’s hair and grinned. “Pat’s quite the chef.”

“He really is,” Logan agreed, smiling back at Roman and breathing again. The savory scents of cumin and a dark chocolate mole sauce filled his lungs and his smile broadened. He gave Patton’s hand another squeeze and grinned proudly at his son. “You’ve worked hard today, Patton. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Hello, Kelly." Logan blinked, head jerking up at Roman's sudden greeting. He’d actually forgotten she was standing there. Roman smiled at her, a little stiff, maybe, but polite and warm. "The enchiladas will be done in about an hour,” He inclined his head, an almost bow. “And there’s plenty. Are you staying for dinner?”

She stared at Roman, eyes flicking over his jewelry and his eyeliner, and at Patton’s expression as he grinned up at him. She narrowed her eyes at Roman’s hand where it now rested on Patton’s shoulder. Ice filled Logan’s veins at the steel behind her fake smile.

“Logan,” she said, turning to him as though Roman no longer existed. “I can’t believe you’d let some *** babysit my son.”

“Mom!” Patton cried and moved back, closer to Roman and keeping himself between him and Kelly.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Logan hissed at her and she blinked at him, her shock at his outburst quickly replaced with anger. She scowled and opened her mouth but he cut her off. “You may not say such things to my friends, you may not say such things in my home or in front of my son!” He opened the door wider and stepped aside, joining Patton and Roman. Patton held tight to his hand, and reached behind him with the other to hold onto Roman’s arm. Logan stood close enough to feel the warmth pouring off Roman’s side but he couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. “Please leave.”

“Oh, come off it, Logan,” she rolled her eyes and stepped closer. “Take off the SJW cape for five seconds and consider—”

“Please leave, now,” he said again. His voice shook and he had to lock his knees to stop their trembling, but he didn’t stand down and he didn’t look away.

Her hands twitched at her sides as she glared back at him. After a long, breathless moment, her eyes darted over his shoulder at Roman, but he'd remained still and silent. “Fine,” she spat, stepping through the open door. She narrowed her eyes at Logan and her face twisted into a smirk. “You’re going to regret this, Logan.”

“I have a lot of regrets, Kelly,” he said, voice calmer than his shaking grip on the door should have permitted. “I’ll add it to the pile.” He didn’t wait for her response and instead closed and locked the door as soon as she was through.

Once it closed, he fell against the door, forehead pressed to the cold, smooth surface.

“Hey, Pat,” he heard Roman’s voice behind him. It was distorted and wobbly, like the periscope ‘phones’ at the park. Or tin cans connected with a string. “Why don’t you go set up a new Mario Kart tournament? I’ll be right down.” 

At some point, Logan must have released Patton’s hand. Fingers and wrist throbbing, his entire body trembled. Each breath caught in his throat, dull hooks dragging and and snagging against his flesh. Patton’s voice was too quiet to make out his words over the roaring in his ears, but he caught Roman’s soft response. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Patton said something else, a sharp edge of worry in his voice. “I’m okay, too, Pat. We’re too strong for the haters, aren't we?”

The hallway darkened and after a moment, Logan couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears. He panted, both hands pressed hard against the door. A motorcycle raced past outside, and the rumbling engine vibrated under his hands, shifting into a pounding on the door. 

“Logan? Logan, don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” BANG BANG BANG

He pushed hard against it, keeping the door sealed shut, keeping everything out.

“I—I—I need a moment, Kels, p—please. I—” BANG BANG BANG

He tested the lock. The door was bolted shut. They were safe. They were safe.

“The kids will be back with my parents any minute and we’re not done talking!” BANG BANG BANG “Open the damn door!”

He couldn't hide in here forever but if he could just collect himself, he could—

BANG BANG BANG “Logan? Logan!” BANG BANG BANG 

The door was locked. No-one could get in. They were safe. They were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe…

BANG BANG BANG “Logan!”

Roman watched Patton descend the stairs to the game room. He looked back twice, eyes big with worry for his dad. Roman smiled back, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Pat,” he said again. Finally, Patton nodded and went downstairs. He waited until he heard the door click shut before approaching Logan. "Lo?" he murmured. Logan faced the door, both hands pressed against it like he was pushing her away. He muttered under his breath and Roman stepped closer, trying to understand. “Lo? Tell me, what do you need?” he asked quietly and gripped his shoulder. “Logan?”

“No, please!” Logan cried and slid to the floor, hands covering his head.

Roman dropped his hand and leapt back. “Shit, Lo, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to startle you.” Logan was practically curled in a ball, trembling as he covered his head and his face. Not startled.

Terrified.

Roman took a deep breath, forcing calm into his body, then crouched down so he was nearly at eye level. “You're safe, Lo. I shouldn't have touched you without asking, Lo. I’m sorry. I won't do it again.” His trembling slowed. He was listening. "You're safe, Lo," Roman said again.

Still panting, Logan slowly lowered his arms and sat on the floor with his back pressed against the door. He blinked at him through watery eyes, tears dotting his lenses. “Ro—Roman?” After a long moment, his vision seemed to clear. “Roman.” He shook his head and sucked in an unsteady breath. “I… I'm sorry. I’m sorry. I…" Logan looked at the walls around them, almost confused about where he was. "I overreacted.” He shook his head, eyes fixed on the floor between them. “I… I'm sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he murmured, keeping his voice low and steady. “No…” Roman tilted his head down to meet Logan’s eyes. “No. It's okay to not want someone to touch you without your permission, Lo.”

“You didn't… I'm fine. I'm sorry.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tight, fingertips white where they dug into his calves. A shield. His eyes grew more focused and he nodded. “I’m fine, I—" Logan's eyes shot up to Roman's. "Oh, god, Roman, I can't believe she said that. I'm so sorry.”

“You’re not responsible for her,” Roman gave him a lopsided grin. “There's a reason you divorced her, right?”

“Yeah,” Logan whispered and looked away, staring at a knot in the hardwood floor. Roman watched a tic under his eye jump, and how his hands shook against his legs. He still wasn’t breathing normally, either, holding his breath for an inordinately long time, and he seemed just a few steps away from wheezing. At this angle, Logan’s crooked fingers, the scar on his jaw and the other one by his ear were all visible. Roman had seen flashes of the burn that covered his palm, the mark where his wedding ring had seared the back of his finger just the most outward sign.

Realization crashed down on him, a wave of icy cold water that stole his breath as he stared at his… his friend.

“Hey, Lo?” Roman took another deep breath and sat completely, close enough that Logan could reach him if he wanted, but he didn’t invade his personal space again. “You can tell me to fuck off if I'm overstepping…” Logan looked up, eyes wide and guarded, and it took every bit of control Roman had not to just pull him right into his lap and wrap his arms around him. “Does she… does she hurt you?”

“What?” Logan shook his head and slid back, pressed into the corner near the door. He seemed to shrink, shoulders curled and arms wrapped even more tightly around his shins. “No. No, of c—course not. We h—h—hardly see ea—each other. It—it—it's…” Logan’s voice faded and he still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Did she?” Roman’s voice was quiet and calm. Logan looked up.

“W—we…" His head wobbled, almost a nod. "We had some p—pretty hea—heated arguments.” Logan looked away and Roman's eyes fell on another scar on his chin. Up close, the one on his ear looked like it had been a tear right through his earlobe. 

Roman nodded, forcing his hands to remain still in his lap and not just reach for him. He longed to push away the shadows Logan had wrapped around him, memories of old hurts. Kiss his scars and his tears, soothe his aches. But after the way he’d reacted before… 

Logan followed his gaze and hid his scarred hand behind his leg. “P—Patton’s waiting for you downstairs.” He nodded up at the chore chart on the wall. “He's done all his chores. I don't know how you did that but…” Logan smiled. It was tight, and his bottom lip trembled, but was genuine. “He's earned some happy time.”

“You wanna come down and play with us? It's easy to add another player.” Roman slid just a bit closer. “Having his dad there would make it an actually happy time for him.”

“Um…” He swallowed, his breathing still erratic. “Yes. Yes…” Logan nodded his head rapidly, more a tremor than a sign of affirmation. “I… ah, j—just need to… maybe g—get some tea.” He swallowed again and breathed heavily through his nose, lip caught between his teeth.

Roman watched Logan’s tremor. He gave him a small smile as he reached out to touch his forearm, but pulled back at the last moment. “I can make it and you can relax—” He gestured toward the kitchen but Logan recoiled, shame filling his face even as he dodged Roman’s touch.

Biting his own lip, Roman tried again. “Would company help while you make it? Or would it be more helpful to have some alone time?”

Logan stared up at him, eyes wide, the question behind them clear. How do you always know?

“A few minutes alone might help, thank you,” he murmured. “T—to collect… collect myself. If you don't mind, I… I don't mean to—“

He met Logan’s eyes and poured his heart into his smile. “Of course I don’t mind.” He stood, then offered both hands. Logan stared at them for a long moment before gripping them, fingers cold and shaking, palms clammy. Roman squeezed gently, thumbs rubbing circles against the backs of his hands. Keeping his movements slow and steady, he helped Logan onto his feet and nodded. It was difficult to let go, and he couldn’t resist one more gentle squeeze before eventually releasing Logan’s hands. 

He started back toward the stairs but looked over his shoulder, not really ready to leave him alone but wanted to give him what he asked for. “Is it okay if I come check on you in ten minutes if we don't see you down there by then?”

Logan nodded, still not completely himself, but his eyes had lost some of their haunted look and he met his gaze. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out and fresh tears welled. Finally, he made a little shooing gesture, a stiff smile painted on his face.

“We’ll see you in a bit. Ten minutes,” Roman emphasized with another smile. “And you know Patton, once he hears you’re playing, too, he won’t let you get out of it.”

---

Taglist: @crossiantgay Ask to be added :)

[smiletimeisrunningout]

"You can't honestly be one of those women who's oblivious to her beauty..."

"No, I do think I'm pretty," she responded with a wide grin, although despite everything she felt her cheeks heat up, "I didn't know you thought I was lovely, there is a difference!" She didn't bring up most men she knew would sleep with just about anybody as long as she was willing because at the moment all she could think of was that Ben had thought she was lovely and that he felt smitten with her.

"but in our land, even Caleb can take some getting used to."

"Yes, surviving Grace and not shooting her may be the hardest thing you'll ever do, if you ever choose to spend time in my kingdom, but she saved my life, so at the very least you can... give her a pass for being the sole reason I'm with you today?" she offered amusedly, but felt a pang in her chest at the thought of Grace and how much she missed her - and to how she may have done something insane the day after Arian left her, had she not met Grace herself. It had been too much pain for her, but Grace had been the perfect distraction. "We are both considered weird by our people, to be fair."

He was surprised to hear Arian was alive, and she wasn't sure of why he had expected any different; but then, even if they had gotten fairly close in the last year, he hadn't seen her deal with tragedies and difficult times, he wouldn't know her policy on sparing people.

"Even if he was cruel to you, but is loving to another, that doesn't mean you deserved it...that doesn't mean that you are the defective one here. We can never allow ourselves to be defined by the ones who break us -- or in your case, try to. The woman I know is far stronger than that."

A pained smiled was all she could give him, grateful he couldn't hear her panicked heartbeats, because of course she was the defective one. Not because he had hurt her, women weren't at fault for bad men, but for letting him despite having all the chances to do better, to escape. She had kept giving him her everything, and he wasn't even evil, still he hadn't been able to muster a crumble of love. She just didn't have what it took to be loved. And she had allowed him to define her, still did. How could Ben not see it yet? But she couldn't tell him she wasn't the woman he thought, because he thought she was lovely just now, and even if selfish she wanted to keep that a little longer.

"Oh, my father would have killed him on the spot," she murmured, "And my mother would have done the same, and then everyone would have known. Much better this way. My heart couldn't have taken that." It was the only truth she could give him, so she chose to give him nothing else, but now she knew he thought too highly of her, and some day soon she was going to disappoint.

"Kiss me now, no more talking of any other man," Emma whispered, wanting to run from that as well.

--

It was extremely important to Emma that she'd organize her vanity better, and her clothing, and clean her many weapons, so that she wouldn't start destroying her entire quarters. Or so that she wouldn't succumb to the terror she felt threatening her very existence that afternoon, when she had come so close to crying after being questioned by her friends: yes, what sort of man would ever trick someone who wanted to marry him? She couldn't tell her story and she couldn't protect Mary from risking a similar outcome, but her warnings had been in vain.

When Ben arrived she stiffened and already knew she'd have a hard time keeping her tone from becoming a constant snapping. If she couldn't cry, then she needed to be mad, but not at him. Never at him. But then she saw the daisies, innocently left on her desk, and put down the rug to go pick them up and smell them, eyes swelling with tears. "You brought me flowers again..." she smiled weakly, holding them to her heart. Of course he had, he was so sweet, and why couldn't she just feel things for a sweet man like Mary would, and be normal? She gave a small shrug, "I had a really... really trying day too..." she answered in a choked voice, a tear slipping down her cheek, "It's good to see you..."

"And... you are you, and I care about you and it was your first, so even if I wanted to compare, no one could measure up."

Despite the prior pall in the air, Benjamin laughed, his eyes shining with fond amusement. "No one could measure up? Now I know you must want something..."

"It may not have been my first, but it was my first with you and that matters," Emma continued. "Oh, look, I finally said a girly thing."

Despite her almost teasing, off-hand delivery, Benjamin's pulse fluttered and his face grew warm, a lopsided smile lifting his lips as he lowered his eyes. "It was special to me too," he promised. "Even if we never actually got to do any true book discussions...though your impromptu lesson was equally appreciated."

Emma was quick to reassure that August was akin to a brother, and then her eyes were shining as she asked for clarification -- if he truly found her lovely -- and incredulous, he scrunched his nose at her and agreed, "Yes, of course I do. If I thought you were a troll, I think I would've been a little less amenable towards our dalliance." Nudging her to show his jest, he chuckled. "You can't honestly be one of those women who's oblivious to her beauty..."

Caleb, but without any self-control?

Oh. Now that he wasn't so sure he liked... Nevertheless, Benjamin grinned, not quite sure he could envision such a woman. "Is it your people's custom to be as flippant and vexing as possible?" he teased. "Not that I mind it, of course -- I've grown accustomed -- but in our land, even Caleb can take some getting used to."

The topic once more shifted back to Arian, and Benjamin felt Emma stiffen alongside him. Despite the smile she wore, there was a clear tension while she spoke.

Shocked by her revelation, he asked, "He's alive? And in Mysthaven, no less? Emma..." Curling his hand over hers, Benjamin searched her eyes for signs of distress. "Even if he was cruel to you, but is loving to another, that doesn't mean you deserved it...that doesn't mean that you are the defective one here. We can never allow ourselves to be defined by the ones who break us -- or in your case, try to. The woman I know is far stronger than that."

Emma laughed it off, waving a hand and affirming that yes, she would be a little "off" for the next few days, but that she would otherwise return back to normal, if given the proper amount of distance and healing.

Benjamin frowned. "I suppose this is why your parents don't know," he murmured. "If David were aware..." Trailing off, he pressed his lips together. Emma had to know her father would've already gone on a murderous rampage, had the truth been revealed, so for the sake of the kingdom, he could finally understand why she'd kept silent. In many ways she was like a martyr, refusing to let anyone shoulder her burdens but herself.

"I've got two hands," Benjamin gently reminded her. "You don't have to carry this weight alone." Offering a lopsided smile, he teased, "I could also use my two hands to strangle the bastard, but that's your call."

--

As Emma requested, Benjamin afforded her the space she required, yet he also checked in during the evenings -- usually to offer her a chance to speak or read, should she require the distraction -- and her friend, August, had also become an invaluable resource into better understanding her sudden mood adjustments. Although Benjamin understood the source, he didn't always know how to make things better, or when to predict their arrival.

Mercifully, James appeared to be on his side in this, because the other man had come to him with concern, detailing the events that had occurred between Emma and a group of women.

Deciding to visit (but not without making it seem unplanned), Benjamin found a handful of daisies upon the path, and stuffed them into his pocket -- he didn't wish to risk his men ridiculing him -- and entered Emma's quarters later that afternoon. "Hi," he greeted, flashing what he prayed to be an appeasing smile. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything..." Here, he unearthed the daisies from under his coat and shyly placed them upon her desk. "I saw these and thought of you. Though maybe, possibly, I also wanted to see you after a trying day of combative arseholes." His smile softened, and almost apprehensively. "How've you been?"

[simthorium]

Caleb was finally feeling like his life was taking shape. He had a sweet apartment, a great job, a beautiful fiancé, an adorable daughter, and had finally made up with his father after years of not speaking. Things had been rough for years, but it was finally looking up. He kissed Cammie on the forehead before standing up to leave for work that morning. “See you two tonight,” he said with a wave. “Give Alana a kiss for me.”

Later that afternoon, Joel and Cammie sat down to eat lunch, after a long morning of dealing with a very fussy baby. “You’re a natural at being a mother, you know,” said Joel with a smile. “Thank you,” said Cammie. “It’s not always easy.” “Sure, yeah,” Joel said. “Never is. You make it look easy, though. And very sexy.” He winked at Cammie and blew her a kiss.

Cammie rolled her eyes, but still pretended to catch the kiss. “Oh, stop,” she said. “You’re such a flatterer.” “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” Joel said with a shrug. “You’ve got everything going for you, Cam. You’re beautiful, you have a great kid. You really are a catch.” Cammie smiled, a bit confused now. 

Caleb got home that evening and immediately changed into his pajamas. Working construction was hard on his body and left him exhausted. But, he still wanted to spend some time with his family. “Come here, baby,” he said, calling out to Alana, who had barely started to walk. Cammie and Joel sat on the couch, engrossed in their own conversation. Alana wobbled slowly on her feet then resorted to crawling. Caleb sighed and looked up at his fiancé and father, still deep in conversation. He was glad they were getting along so well, but often felt like they didn’t include him.

“I’m gonna put her down for the night,” Caleb said, scooping Alana up. “You coming to bed, babe?” Cammie looked up, unsure of what Caleb just said. “Oh, I have that women in business dinner in a bit, so I’ll be home late,” she said, hopping up. “Don’t wait up.” Caleb nodded and headed to Alana’s room to put her down. Joel smiled at Cammie. “I’ll wait up,” he said.

Hours later, Cammie returned to find Joel relaxing out on the patio out back. He waved her down and she sat in the recliner next to him. “How was your dinner?” he asked. “Fine, I guess,” Cammie muttered. “Just like you then, huh?” Joel said with a laugh.

“Joel,” Cammie said, standing up almost as fast as she’d sat down. “We can’t do this. I’m engaged to your son! I love him.” “Cammie, come on,” Joel said, leaning into her as she pulled away. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel this too. There’s something here. We’re both adults, we can do what we want. You’re allowed to have what you want.”

Cammie looked him up and down, feelings swirling and unsure. Joel reached out and gingerly took her hand, then planted a soft kiss on her fingers. Cammie felt herself melt. It was totally different than when she was with Caleb. And it was so wrong! But for some reason, it just felt right.

[cruelsummerhrry]

OK I accept I'm being greedy but if you're still interested as like a small continuation to that angst blurb you can maybe have H come across his lady love with some other guy and lo and behold he assumes the worst in it all when all she was doing was asking the guy maybe how she should call back H and say sorry!?

Wow I'm invested in them :))

Pt.1

Masterlist

It's y/n's sister's birthday party. The house is full of people she has know for years and others she doesn't know at all. Even though she is surrounded by people, Y/n has never felt this lonely. It's all because she is missing her love, Harry.

She just been trying to distract herself with small talk with some of the guest, when Harry walks in. Alone.

Both the Mr. And Mrs. Styles are friends with Y/n's sister, but Harry has always been closer to Gia. It's not surprise to most there that Harry showed up, that most does not include Y/n. She genuinely thought he wouldn't come.

She tries to talk to her brother-in-laws friend, Caleb, acting like she didn't just see the man she walked out on.

"So, what do you do for work?" His question brings her to present day, and she stops reliving the last time she saw Harry.

"I'm realtor!" She starts going into her job and how much she enjoys it, until someone interrupts her.

"I'm sorry to intrude but can I borrow Y/n for a bit?" She turns to see Harry standing there with a charming smile on his face.

"Sure man. I'll see you around, yeah?" She gives a simple nod.

Once he is gone, Harry is the first to speak up, "Before you tell me to leave, let me explain. I was a bad partner, I know and understand that. I needed a break to figure out what I want." She is worried about what he was going to say next. "I want you, but I need time to talk to some lawyers about what would happen if I hot divorce. You might not want to take me back because of how much I hurt you, I just wanted to tell you I'm leaving her. I will be divorced, I just don't know when." He is finally done and is terrified of her response.

"Harry, I don't think I can live without you. Can we go somewhere private to talk though?"

~♡~

"Back to what I was saying, I love you. I didn't know what to do. You where so distant and that made me feel like shit. If this is going to work, you need to give it your all. I will love through the good and bad, just need to let me know when it's about to get bad so I can help you." She gives him a sweet kiss, missing his lips on hers.

A/n: taylor swift is crazy guys. Like and REBLOG, reblogging really helps my account. Make sure to follow and I'm accepting request

[elliesgaymachete]

I really love how different everyone’s characters are from the previous campaign

Liam spent both c1 and c2 as an angsty boi but now he’s just a guy! I love Orym! He’s sweet, he just wants to help, he loves his friends. Both Caleb and Vax could get very in their heads about their own trauma, afraid to hurt those around them. Orym knows he can protect those around him and will constantly risk himself to do so

Sam spent c2 as someone who was traumatized and torn from her family and turned into her worst fear. She was distrusting of others and never shared and had sticky fingers and probably needed therapy. Now FCG is the team’s therapist! They have trauma of their own and it’ll probably come up at some point how he’s handling it, but he really just wants to help, and wants everyone to share so he can give them a supporting robotic shoulder to cry on

Beau was also very closed off and abrasive, people didn’t like her much and she had to learn how to be nice. While Laudna is similar in that people don’t really like her, she’s just so nice! She finds joy in everything! She just wants to have friends after so many years of being lonely and as soon as she finds friends, she is SO enthusiastic and caring about it, joking with them and looking out for them

Laura made Jester to really let her id run wild. No impulse control, no filter, but somehow always saying exactly what everyone needed to hear. She makes people feel welcome even if she can be a bit intrusive. She wants to spread joy and chaos! She just wants to see the world. Imogen is almost the polar opposite. So far, she has been the most reserved and closed off of these new characters. She doesn’t share anything about herself, not willingly at least, not until it’s pried out of her. She’s a bit distrusting, and has very little patience when she’s crossed. She’s looking for answers and will do what she has to to get them. It’s so delightful to see Laura take on a character with a bit of a dark side like this because Jester was so different!

People have said that Ashton is similar to Mollymauk and Taliesin is leaning into a character that he didn’t get a chance to play much, and I kind of see it, but he’s also different. Caduceus was quiet, stoic, a bit judgmental, but also there for a higher purpose and to help his friends. We’re not really sure what Ashton is looking for, besides work and money, but I really just think they want somewhere to fit. And sure, he likes money, he gets into scrapes, he sometimes pisses off the wrong person but I think most importantly they are kind and can be selfless for those he deems worthy. They look out for FCG above all else, they got breakfast sandwiches for the rest of the group. He doesn’t like people who are unkind (IE their grudge against bertrand, saying it’s a dick move to steal copper from someone, etc.) The thing about Molly is that even though he could be nice he was a bit of a selfish asshole and he knew it, so I do think Ashton is different in that sense. I think Ashton knows they can be an asshole but still tries to bring good into the world

And Fearne. Oh, Fearne.....Ashley going from quiet, reserved, but sweet Yasha to this absolutely unhinged Faun. She really said please can I never fail a wisdom save ever again by going druid. Fearne is SO intuitive. She knows exactly what to say to cheer people up, she knows when they need cheering up. She also knows exactly what to say to unsettle people. They are similar, but Yasha’s intimidation came from her strength and blatant threats, while Fearne’s comes from her unhinged ability to make people unsure if she really likes you or if she’s going to try to kill you in your sleep, and I think that’s beautiful. Yasha was very thoughtful, only speaking when she was comfortable and when she had something to say. Fearne has zero impulse control and always says or does the first thing she wants to at any given time and leans into whatever happens next.

I cannot wait to meet Travis’s real new character and I hope it’s something none of us are expecting

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[emperor-palpaminty]

Hey 👋 how are you?

I'm not sure if your still taking prompt requests but I was wondering if you were would I be able to request forehead touches with crosshair? Like hes not sure how to show affection so he does it mando style and then tech explains it to the reader?

Thank you!

Also I'm loving all your clone stuff it's just *chefs kiss*

(Me forcing my serial likes/reblogs in your notifications 😂)

AAAH BUT I LOVE SERIAL LIKES AND REBLOGS! :D I'm so glad you like my clone stuff! It makes me so happy to write this stuff!

I actually had to do research on forehead touches in mando culture. My fav thing is they have a specific word for head-butting (kov'nyn) and it can be both a gentle embrace and an aggressive WWE move.

__

The first time Crosshair kissed you, it wasn't an actual... well, it wasn't a traditional kiss. Traditional for mandalorians, traditional maybe for clones, but not for you.

You had tucked your lightsaber into your belt and turned to the boys, grinning brightly. “Alright, lads!” You yelled over the roar of the gunship. “Let’s get going!”

You had watched each of the men jump- Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, all diving out of the ship. Crosshair had hesitated on jumping, hurrying to you and taking your face in his hands, softly leaning his head down and pressing his helmeted head to your forehead before running and jumping.

The suddenness of the gesture shocked you, but you shook it off and ran for the edge, diving out as well. The adrenaline you felt pumping in your veins could be blamed on the jump, the dizzying height, how you tumbled and the air whipped around you. Not on the touch earlier, the small contact with him that he had initiated.

The second time it happened, it had led to a real, deep kiss. You had been sitting next to him, after a hard day of hiking, and Crosshair had done it, gently, helmet still on. You reached up and pressed your fingers to the sides of his helmet as you rested your forehead on his, gently, pulling it back only to remove his helmet. You had smiled, wordlessly at him, sensing the palpitations in his heart as he looked you over- so close but not close enough for him.

Crosshair had leaned in, forehead grazing yours, as he tilted his head, hands still resting on his knees, lips hesitating. You'd met them, the warmth of the impact making him inhale and wrap his arm around your waist.

There were little moments where he initiated specifically the forehead touches; it had simply become an embrace between you two. After nights of battle, passion, or peace, he would touch his forehead to your own, allowing you to relax or catch your breath.

The third moment you remembered was a forehead bump you had initiated alone. The snow on the planet was thick, heavy, and you were talking at the back of the group with Tech.

"I hope you realize how much we all care for you- especially Crossbair." Tech nodded ahead at his brother, who was chatting with Hunter and the padawan.

You grinned and watched the lanky soldier. "He's sweet. Sometimes."

"I mean the embraces. The forehead touches." Tech had reached up and tapped on the plastoid crown of his armor, running to follow the padawan in the direction of his master. "It's a Mandalorian Kiss."

You had hesitated for a moment, then smiled to yourself- a kiss! Your heart fluttered as you slid down the hill, saber igniting. Where you went, Cross would follow, and he would have your heart.

The forehead touch was initiated by you after the battle, when you and Caleb were running with the Batch. You had grabbed Caleb as his master was gunned down, then glanced at the Batch.

Crosshair's gun raised, and you didn't know what else to do. You set down Caleb and told him to run- you would catch him in a moment. You raised a hand, gently, approaching him. "Cross-"

A shot rang out, singing through the air. You startled, staring at it, eyes suddenly blearing.

You heard them- more clones. Coming to hunt you, coming for Caleb.

You looked at Crosshair and tilted your head, softly, forehead unmet for the first time, and you turned to flee in the snowy woods, eyes burning as you sprinted away from the man you loved.

[hes-writer]

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Time To Go

(This story is canon divergent... and sad.🥲)

Little Caleb stood attentively by his mother's deathbed, tears of sadness streaming down his face at her sickly state.

The twelve-year-old has been taking care of Patience ever since she caught the dangerous disease that's been going around the town of Gravesfield.

Months have passed, and she has yet to recover. In fact, her condition seemed to be worsening, which frightened Caleb to no end.

He didn't want to lose her like he did his father.

She was the only caretaker he and Pip had left.

"Please be okay, mother," The blonde quietly began with a sniffle, brushing away tears that continued to pour from his eyes. "Please? I love you."

Patience gave her oldest a feeble smile, weakly reaching a hand to rest on his soft cheek. She felt her pale skin growing cold, her lids heavy-weight. She knew her time of living was nearing its end. The widow wished she got to spend it more with her boys.

But, she was eternally grateful for the moments they did have together. Hearing Caleb call her 'mother' for the first time, watching Philip take his first steps.

Memories like those and many more are things that she'll treasure forever.

Even in death.

"I love you too, Caleb," she whispers in a weak, motherly voice. Despite her faint tone, she still manages to sound sweet and genuine. "Promise me you'll take good care of your brother."

The elder nods with a whimper at her words.

"I promise..."

Still smiling, Patience lowers her hand from his face before slowly slipping into a state of eternal slumber.

"Mother?" Caleb frets, hoping his mother would open her eyes. He begins to shake her shoulder. "Mother? Mother? Mother! Mother!" He frantically calls out, only to receive silence.

She was gone.

Dead.

Realizing this, Caleb starts to sob into his hands, his small shoulders trembling.

...

"I'm home!" An enthusiastic Pip enters the house with a brown sack filled with apples.

The brunette had returned from the marketplace.

Being that he was eight, he was old enough to go by himself.

While there, he bought a bunch of apples.

He knew how much his mother loved apple pie and wanted to use them to bake one for her. With Caleb's help of course.

Speaking of Caleb, Philip heard crying coming from inside the kitchen that sounded like his.

When he goes there, he sees the blonde crying with his head down at the table.

"Caleb?" He calls out in concern. Caleb lifts his head up at the familial voice.

Seeing Pip, he rushes to his little brother and immediately gives him a hug as he cries in his arms.

The sudden contact causes Philip to drop the sack as all of the apples roll out.

The younger wasn't sure why his big brother was crying, but he returned the hug, hoping it would help him feel better.

Caleb knew he'd have to break the news about their mother to Pip, but right now, he needed to hug him.

He was all he had left.

They were now officially orphans.