#constantly torn between hating my town and wanting to leave and loving my town and mourning its steady downward fucking decline

[lzrdprsn]

People think that the fact that they're building $500k houses in our little village means that things are looking up here. Be fucking for real, you know? There's no where to work here except fast food places and gas stations, our schools (1 of which I attended and work at) aren't great in comparison to those around the mountain from us, and poverty and drug dependency is crazy out of control now more than its ever been. In the last 72 hours I have called an ambulance for a guy ODing face down in the gravel behind a Mexican food restaurant and paid for the groceries of the guy ahead of me because his EBT got declined. It probably seems great if you're somebody buying one of those brand new fancy McMansions they're building at the foot of the mountain, but to those of us who've been here a long time this place is falling apart.

[sunnyoldbear]

I’m no artist but all I think about is Luca so here are my headcanons for them when they’re older!

Luca:

As I said in a previous post, he gets a bit thicker as he grows since his whole family is on the thicker side and he’s very skinny.

His tail gets longer as he gets older and he’s like a little kitty with it. When he’s in the water, he sleeps on his stomach with it curled completely around him. He also wraps his tail around Alberto and Giulia at times if there’s ever a time where it’s raining or something when they’re in the surface.

He’s the shortest of the trio and he hates that with every fiber of his being. Neither of them let him forget it.

He loves space more than the movie lets on, and that’s saying something. He has read almost every book he can find on it and he rambles about it every day.

He is still pretty clumsy and his arms always have a few bruises or scrapes on them. He likes putting colorful bandaids on his cuts because he likes the colors.

He loves helping Giulia’s mom with painting! Not just modeling for her, but just painting with her or learning. It reminds him of Alberto. He’s not… good at it, but he loves it.

Oh he loves dogs. He’s still a little scared of cats after Machiavelli, but Nerone is his baby and he would do anything for that little pup.

Has a massive sweet tooth!

As expected, he loves learning about Vespas and how they work and everything. He does his research and writes letters to Alberto about the best books to read about Vespas to ensure they buy or make the very best one.

He’s always moving, just can’t sit still. He’s always bouncing his knee or kicking his legs or drumming his fingers. He just can’t help it. (He’s neurodivergent yes, but this is the 50s so…)

Still has very fishy sayings that no one but him, his family, and Alberto understand.

Can ramble for hours about the sea and how he can relate it to space. He still loves water and tends to list the names of his goatfish under his breath when he’s stressed to calm himself down. He still misses wrangling them, but he is so happy that he’s free.

Spends hours working on his handwriting because he doesn’t like how messy it is. He wants it to be perfect.

He’s very self conscious about most human things he does. The only thing he isn’t self conscious about is his swimming abilities, but he hides it pretty well. He’s most self conscious about his intelligence, or lack thereof. He’s meant to be at Giulia’s level of intelligence but since he was raised in the ocean, he knows next to nothing and so he has to work extra hard to get good grades. He stresses a lot about it and sobs if he gets a bad grade.

He’s a surprisingly good cook. It just relaxes him.

He loves flowers and learned how to make flower crowns.

He also loves collecting seashells he finds because it reminds him of home.

Like many agree, he is terrified of bugs, but he could never hurt one.

He’s very emotional, but that’s canon so.

His letters to Alberto are typically very long and full of emotions and things about his day, as well as random things. He doesn’t mind Alberto’s shorter letters, and he saves them in a box under his bed.

Every time he sees Alberto again he practically tackles him in a hug. The first time, both of them fell straight to the floor and were bruised for days.

He loves stuffed animals. Since it’s not “manly” to keep them, he gets them “for Giulia” and then puts them on his bed. (Modern day, he wouldn’t give a damn and just get them for himself)

Gets flustered super easily, as we see in canon. Be it an innocent romantic comment or a nice compliment, he goes super red and embarrassed, stumbling over his words.

Still says “silenzio Bruno” before he does anything he’s nervous to. Some kids at school are confused about it but he’s more confused at their confusion. How do they not know what a Bruno is? Isn’t it a human thing?

Loves to annotate his books. Associates certain books/book quotes with the people he loves and will give them those books or repeat the quote to them.

Though Genova is much more accepting than Portorosso, he is still bullied pretty badly when Giulia isn’t around, and sometimes even when she is. He pretends nothing happens or that it doesn’t bother him, but it does. It bothers him so, so much. Alberto can see right through him with ease and is there to remind him that everything is okay and he’s still loved. It helps, but not as much as Alberto thinks it does.

Even with the bullying, Luca loves school so, so much. That being said, he loves summer and being in Portorosso more.

Does that “look me in the eyes. You know I love you right?” thing he and his mother do to everyone he loves.

Alberto:

There is nothing he loves more than harassing Giulia. Being her brother, he loves to tease her, but will fight anyone who does the same.

Once decked Ercole. Got in trouble but Massimo secretly gave him a high five.

Cleaned up the island and erased the tallies he made for his father. He put some of Giulia’s fairy lights in there and has a few extra pillows, books in every corner and drawings all across the tower. He still has a lot of his human artifacts, but most of them are gone since he needs money for a Vespa.

His new tally board has “Reunion” scrawled at the top and its for waiting for his sister and best friend to return home.

Loves being a lifeguard.

Is super close to Machiavelli now and even adopted a stray to be his friend. Or uh… more than a friend, considering the big litter the cat soon fathered.

Alberto named all the kittens after fish.

He always draws things for Luca and eagerly waits his arrival.

Also has a massive sweet tooth, bigger than Luca’s.

Stores Luca’s letters away under his bed.

He and Massimo made Giulia’s hideout a proper treehouse and it’s now a study spot.

Has tons of books about Vespas. Massimo taught him to read and write.

He’s more self confident about his “human expertise” since he does it his own way.

One of the messiest eaters I swear to god-

Doesn’t care much about space, but he’ll listen to Luca ramble about it for hours without complaint.

Doesn’t really have anything he’s super interested in other than Vespas like how Luca likes space, but I might change my mind about that.

Loves watermelon!

His recklessness causes him to have as many bruises and scrapes as Luca’s clumsiness does, but he doesn’t care about putting bandaids on.

Alberto’s letters are pretty short but great!

Definitely bottles things up until he can’t anymore but he’s trying to get better.

Part of him feels guilty about catching and eating fish, but it’s hinted seamonsters eat fish so I’m accepting that as canon and saying he feels slightly less guilty about it. Definitely enjoys pasta more.

Loves the snow, especially when it means snowball fights. (Definitely throws them as hard as he can at Ercole. Son of a bitch deserves it.)

Oh yeah, he swears now. He’s heard a few swears around while making deliveries around the year and catches on. He makes a few of his own, too.

He just makes up words of his own as well as phrases. He doesn’t just convince Luca to say them. He convinces Massimo & Giulia as well as Luca’s fam. It’s a big, fun inside joke.

Loves turning into a sea monster and acting silly to make the kids around town smile.

Honestly he just loves being a sea monster. It’s great to be him. He feels free. It’s not as good a feeling as being on a Vespa, but it’s something.

He stares longingly at every Vespa he sees.

He probably named that girl cat Vespa or some variation of now that I think of it.

Giulia:

I see a lot of headcanons of her with glasses and I gotta say I love it! So, glasses Giulia!!!

Tallest of the three! Alberto hates her for it but she loves it.

She actually takes after her father more than she does her mother, contrary to popular belief.

Though she loves space, after her meeting with the boys, she’s thinking of marine biology. She stays up late every night researching everything aquatic. She constantly asks the boys about sea things and visits in that diver suit whenever she can.

She bullies Alberto as often as he bullies her. Their play fights look so aggressive that people think they’re actually trying to kill each other.

She’s constantly torn between chopping off all her hair or letting it grow out. She settles on leaving it medium length and tie it up.

A very yellow person! It’s everywhere. She loves it so much! The color of happiness, baby.

She’s the first to call Alberto part of the family, saying in a letter that her school wants to meet her brother. She got a letter from Massimo saying Alberto sobbed upon reading it.

Loves to paint with her mom but thinks bike riding is better. She loves that bike.

Harasses Alberto to put a sidecar on his Vespa for her. (Inspired by a drawing by aishimation on Instagram!)

Though she adore her mother, she’s a daddy’s girl and loves him so much.

Can and will punch anyone who calls her brother and her best friend a monster straight in the jaw

Hates her school uniform

Will also pour water all over Alberto just to piss him off

Summertime? I think you mean “training for the Portorosso Cup and also attack Alberto and Luca with a hose for a few months”

She loves to dance

Wants to get tattoos when she’s older

Very much a feminist and doesn’t care how much trouble she gets in for voicing what she knows is right

---

More on the way probably. These dumb gay Italian fish and their ginger friend is all I think about dhdhjdhdvdh

[greatbigbellies]

New anonymous commission story! This is another hyperpregnant slice of life piece, about a couple of boys who find out that they can conceive additional babies mid-pregnancy which will grow to catch up to the largest sibling, resulting in rapid growth for one of the husbands! Contains hyperpregnancy, tmpreg, some weight gain and lactation, mild belly worship, and allusions to sex.

Leo sat in the passenger seat of he and Marko’s sedan, his boyfriend behind the wheel. The pair sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They’d received some… rather shocking news from Leo’s most recent doctors appointment. All three babies were fine, all perfectly healthy... but that was precisely the point, all THREE were healthy. At three months in, Leo was at the tail end of his first trimester, and when he started, there was supposedly only one in his womb. Then a few weeks ago, they were suddenly expecting fraternal twins. Then finally, today, triplets, all inexplicably at the same stage of growth.

“What’s going through you mind, hon?” Marko finally asked, breaking the silence. Leo brushed a few brown, fluffy hairs out of his face with one hand, and held his tummy protectively with the other. “I’m just… I’m floored we’re having three kids! I’m just… confused I guess? Like we were set with one for a while… and then two… and now…” Leo trailed off. Marko squinted in concentration as he thought of how to word his theory. “I… think I know the pattern… I don’t think it’s a matter of the doctors just mysteriously being unable to count…” Leo could tell where this was going. “You mean…” Marko nodded. “Think about it? There was the night we conceived after the party… that’s one. Then there was minigolf night...” Marko began listing off. Leo nodded, “Yeah, Minigolf was fun, we need to do that again sometime,” Leo smiled. Marko raised an eyebrow, “Like… just the minigolf, or what came after too?” 

Leo turned to him and batted his eyelashes, “I dunno, can you get another hole in one?” Marko felt himself start to blush. He was typically the more dominant one, but Leo knew how to push his buttons. “Besides, I wanna test your theory. See if I wake up with four tomorrow,” Marko was now no longer ‘starting to blush’ and was instead outright blushing. “Are you teasing me, or are you serious? Cause our turn to go golfing comes up in two blocks,” Leo put his hand in Marko’s shoulder, leaned over, and said “put another baby in me,”

Marko smiled mischievously, eager to relive their minigolf date. “But! If I win you gotta buy me a sundae. The babies want hot fudge,” Leo teased. Marko’s grin widened. “Nah hon, I’m gonna get a hole in one, beat your ass at minigolf, buy you TWO sundaes, watch you eat them, then we’ll fuck like there ain’t no tomorrow,” he said, wearing his confident smile proudly. Now it was Leo’s turn to blush, turning away and putting his hands over his mouth and cheeks. “Fuck, I hate it when you get all assertive like that,” he said through his hands. Marko laughed. “No you don’t, you little bottom!” Leo erupted in laughter himself, his adorable, irregular laugh like music to Marko’s ears.

“I mean… in fairness, you’re too competitive to lose on purpose, but too much of a gentleman to let a pregnant guy go hungry,” the praise elicited another more subtle blush from Marko, two ran his hand through his short, black undercut. “I mean… you need lots of calcium for the babies. There’s milk in ice cream so, like… it’s good for you right now?” Marko stumbled to his point. Leo chucked and lifted the hem of his beige sweater up to his chest, exposing his tiny first trimester tummy, looking ever so slightly pudgy from being 3 months along. Marko’s blush shifted to a deeper red and he tried to focus on the road, but was a sucker for Leo’s belly. “You’re going to get so big with four babies,” he said, his voice just slightly quivering in anticipation.

“Why stop at four?” asked Leo. “Are you serious?” replied Marko. “100%. We’ve talked about this before. We both love…” he gestured to his bare tummy, “THIS. We both have decided to take on fatherhood, why not just… shoot for the moon?” he put his shirt back down. Marko pulled into “Albatross Minigolf” and put the car in park, looking very seriously at Leo. “That’s going to be really hard on your body,” “I know,” “We’ll need a bigger car,” “I know,” “We’ll need a bigger APARTMENT!” “Marko… we’ll be fine! We only get to really do this once, lets make the most of it!” said Leo reassuringly. Marko wasn’t sure if “this” meant pregnancy, parenthood, or life in general, but he didn’t care. He kissed Leo on the lips, beyond excited to watch his boyfriend grow huge with his babies.

He got out of the car and ran around to the other side to get the door for Leo. He was more than prepared to dote on the man, already deciding he’d get Leo THREE sundaes after minigolf. After all, they’d need some calories to burn.

3 months later

Now six months along, and swollen with large sextuplets, Leo was solidly what one would call ‘very, VERY pregnant’. His usual button up flannel shirts had grown tighter and tighter until they wouldn’t button. While the pair did like the belly out, unbuttoned shirt look, Leo preferred to be more modest when in public. As the temperature dropped due to the coming of autumn, Leo had switched to his larger sweatshirts to remain covered, and even those didn’t really do the job anymore. Now looking overdue with quads, he waddled through the Willowbrook Square Mall wearing that same beige sweater he wore during minigolf night, once two sizes too big, now pulled tight over his bump and only reaching just above his navel.

To cover his lower belly, he wore a supportive belly band to help redistribute the weight of his womb and provide some modesty. Unfortunately for Leo, but much to Marko’s delight, the top hem of the belly belt and bottom hem of the shirt couldn’t quite meet, resulting in a cheeky strip of exposed tummy, complete with his popped navel peeking out.

Leo’s belly swayed slowly back and forth as he waddled next to Marko, squeezing his hand. He absolutely loved being so pregnant, but he tended to get colder feet in public. He was a sight to behold, and people weren’t shy about staring at his impressive bump. “I think that lady has intentionally hopped from store to store to keep me in view,” whispered Leo meekly, “She just keeps watching me, it’s weird,” “Bet she’s jealous of how great you look,” chuckled Marko. “Marko! I’m serious!” Leo hissed, “I like being this big but I don’t like being the center of attention!”

Marko raised an eyebrow, not liking his boyfriend being nervous. “I can talk to her if you’d like?” Leo shook his head, “Nono, I don’t want confrontation, I just want�� honestly I just want a milkshake…” he said as cravings shifted his focus to his empty stomach. With each added baby to his womb, his appetite grew stronger, even as the amount of room in his smooshed digestive system grew smaller. Marko swiftly steered the pair toward the food court, knowing exactly what to get him.

Leo wasn’t much of a foodie before pregnancy, but getting knocked up had not only expanded his palette, but increased his appetite to the point Marko was constantly feeding him. He had actually become something of a good cook, and really enjoyed feeding Leo. As a result of his new caloric intake, Leo has began to physically soften with time, his thighs and ass become pillowier, and for the first time in his life, he had love handles. Marko took this as a point of pride, that his cooking was good enough to make someone a little pudgy. Of course, the constant flow of ice cream treats certainly didn’t hurt either.

“Any preferences, dear?” Marko asked as he helped Leo ease into a chair, which had to be pulled away form the table to make enough room for the belly. “Where you buying?” He asked. Marko tilted his head toward one of the chain restaurants in the court, “Sonic has the biggest shakes here, and I know you like car-” “Carmel oreo please,” grinned Leo. Marko’s heart flittered a little bit at Leo’s innocent smile, still in the honeymoon phase even after being together for so long. He nodded and made his way toward the Sonic, leaving Leo to sit and rest his aching feet.

He placed his hands on the top shelf of his belly, and scanned the food court. He was semi-used to being stared at by this point. Being visibly trans, being in a visibly gay relationship, hell, even his nose ring got glares from older folks. But this felt different, it wasn’t him they were stealing glances of, it was his belly. He felt a draft blow across the sliver of exposed skin between his sweater and belly belt, and felt a little self conscious. To make matters worse, the woman who had been stalking him made a b-line and was actually approaching him. He considered getting up and moving, but knew he’d reached the point in size and weight were he really needed Mareko’s help to do anything quickly.

“Excuse me!” she said, Leo braced for the worst. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been following you around, we’ve made eye contact like 4 times, but I really need to ask you something,” she continued. Poor Leo grimaced and prepared for the worst. What invasive question would he have to answer this time? She took a seat at his table, sitting across from him. She made eye contact and seemed very direct, something Leo wasn’t super crazy about.

“So my friend is pregnant, and she’s carrying decuplets, and she’s really starting to struggle with her size… where did you get that tummy support thing?” Leo blinked, feeling like an overhyped bandaid was just painlessly torn off. “Oh, uh, there’s a place across town that sells maternity wear, called ‘twins n’ up’, and the owner makes their own stuff. They, uh, they custom made it for me,” he answered. The lady nodded intently and made several notes on her phone.

“Is this lady bothering you, hon?” asked Marko as he returned with 32 ounces of creamy milkshake. “No, actually she was just asking me about this!” Leo pulled the hem of his supporting belt, letting it snap back against is belly. “I swear I’m not trying to harass your husband, he’s just the first person i’ve seen who is as pregnant is my friend and I wanted to know where he got his clothes. I’ll leave you guys alone now, thank you!” she said to Marko, offering her seat to him. Marko’s protective nature made him a little cautious of the woman’s intentions, but she seemed harmless enough. “Take care!” smiled Leo as she left. Marko sat across from him, and handed him the milkshake.

Marko chuckled, “I guess we look like husbands now?” Leo took a long, indulgent sip of his shake, basking in the sugaryness of it all. “I mean, we are growing our family quite a bit,” he patted his tummy, “I think it’s a fair assumption we’re married,” Marko considered the situation for a moment and realized, yeah, it WAS a fair assumption they be married, or at least engaged… maybe it was near time he brought assumption to reality…

3 more months later

Marko and Leo were currently no longer boyfriends. Rather, they were fiances! Marko popped the question privately after a very fun and successful baby shower, and Leo immediately said yes. Some tears of happiness were shed, celebratory cake was consumed, and more babies were added to Leo’s ever swelling womb later that night. Things were progressing smoothly for the expecting couple as they’d moved from their old smaller apartment to a larger, open floor house. 

Now 9 months pregnant with thirteen babies, Leo was a sight to behold. His belly was permanently bared, no wardrobe in the country able to cover his bump. Through some luck, good genes, and lots of cocoa butter, he’d managed to avoid any stretchmarks, but his navel was thoroughly popped. While he’d started the pregnancy off on the skinny side, Marko’s endless flow of food had made sure baby weight accumulated, and now everything from his legs to his chest was growing. The only part of him that didn’t seem to gain any weight was his face, which was still lithe and adorable. His fluffy brown hair had only grown fluffier and fuller with the prenatal vitamins he was taking. He had to lose his blonde highlight though, as the babies could absorb chemicals through hair exposure, strangely enough.

Marko had been hard at work unpacking their whole life into this new house, as Leo had grown too large to really do much besides be doted on, which Marko was fine with. He’d set up their bedroom, and taken the doors off their hinges and removed the doorframes to buy Leo just a few precious weeks of being able to travel through doorways. At the rate they were going, they would need every inch of their open floorplan just for Leo’s titanic tummy.

Leo’s belly now held not only tredecuplets, but enough amniotic fluid to stay full and spherical. He was clocking in at around 300 lbs, and just under half of that was belly. Through the help of Marko, Leo could still walk… but getting up and down was a challenge. Leo’s belly was beyond bigger around than he was tall, and there were substantial portions where he could no longer reach. That didn’t stop the couple from conceiving more though. Even at thirteen full and pregnant beyond words, the couple still had plans for more. Call it some kind of hedonism, but Leo loved being bred and growing ever more massive, and Marko loved to watch. 

Even now, well into January, large snowflakes lazily falling outside, the pair were together, warm and happy. Leo had basically outgrown the couch at this point, his belly more wide than the cushions were deep. Instead, they had splurged on an electric recliner which was situated facing slightly to the right of the television, so that Leo could lay back in a reclined position, but only had to turn his head to see the TV, since he couldn’t see past his own tummy straight on at this point. Strong visible kicks could be seen occasionally poking out of his tightly stretched skin, often in places out of view from Leo himself. 

He sat, laid back in his large, cushy recliner, eating some chinese takeout Marko had picked up for him. He set the styrofoam container on his chest, idly scooping noodles into his waiting mouth. A chow mein noodle fell into his cleavage, something he didn’t have 6 months ago, and he picked it out with his chop sticks, hoping Marko didn’t notice him miss his mouth.

Marko didn’t notice, too enarmored with his future husband’s massive midriff. He got to see it every day, and yet every day he somehow loved it more. His hands were almost always touching it, only off of the bump when cooking or otherwise doing housework. He knew this had to be hard for Leo, being so massive and carrying so many, so Marko worked hard to do his part. Anything Leo wanted, he got. Specific foods, foot rubs, new clothes, a bigger belly… all of it was hand delivered by Marko himself. For being the more dominant of the pairing, he’d become something of a servant as Leo grew closer to immobility.

Right now, Marko had a dining room chair pulled up next to Leo, and was working cocoa butter into the side of his tummy, working slowly to both be gentile and maximize his time spent touching it. It amazed him how no matter his size, or how many were in there, his overburdened belly still had just a little give to it. Leo smiled, watching his partner be just engrossed with his tummy. “You have such a hopeless belly kink,” he chuckled. “Hmmm? Me?” Marko said, almost missing the question cause he was staring at the belly. “Yes you! Even before I got knocked up you liked touching me there! Who’s hands were on my tummy when we made out the first time?” Marko blushed. “I mean, yeah mine... but also who was so eager he got close enough that our glasses hooked on themselves? Who was so willing he whispered how he wanted a ‘baby in him right then and there?’,” Marko teased. 

Leo was the one blushing now, thinking back to one of their first dates. Little did he know just HOW MANY babies would be put in him later in life. “Is it… bad I still want you to put a baby in me?” he said, embarrassed by his own words and avoiding eye contact. Marko set aside the cocoa butter and stood up, taking a good look at the tummy that lay before him. “No… I don’t think it’s bad… but I wonder if there’s room in that belly for any more?” he teased, pressing the tips of his fingers into Leo’s exposed tummy.

“Oh come on Mark, don’t make me beg, you said you’d take care of me?” Leo teased right back, deepening his finance’s blush. “Hmmm…” he rested the side of his head on the front end of Leo’s belly, listening to the ambient, living sounds from inside. “It SOUNDS pretty full, can one guy get any more pregnant?” Leo crossed his arms and mock-pouted. “I won’t ever find out if you keep talking...” Marko leaned over Leo, casting a shadow across his face. “So you’re ready for number 14?” he grinned. Leo wrapped his hand around the back of Marko’s head and pulled him in for a kiss before whispering, “Why stop there?”

Another 3 months later

Marko had needed to make some calls. He had a few contacts with the fabrication industry, and knew some guys always willing to help him out. Now a year pregnant, and full of 20 babies, Leo no longer fit standard furniture. He was simply too large and heavy for traditional couches and chairs. Instead, Marko’s friends had put their heads together, and fashioned him a special, form fitting lounge chair, with a sturdy metal frame and soft, satiny cushions. They even thought ahead and made certain parts of it adjustable to accommodate for his growing size. And growing he was. Now beyond overdue, the growth of his still healthy brood pushed his body to new maximums. Leo often joked about how his womb would need its own zipcode soon.

Leo buttoned his shirt back up, setting the pumping apparatus on the table next to him. He’d had to start pumping his milk, or his breasts would begin leaking on their own, and frankly, he didn't want colostrum on his plaid flannels. “Hon, could you put that in the fridge?” he asked, pointing at the bottles of milk he’d produced. Marko ran his hand along the circumference of Leo’s belly as he moved past him, slightly tickling Leo in the process. He took the bottles and placed them in the fridge before circling back. “How’re you feeling honey?” he asked. “Big. Pregnant. Massive, really,” Leo answered. “Just how you like it?” Marko replied. Leo grinned, “Yeeeaaahhh,”

Marko placed his hands firmly on the expanse of pale, pregnant skin, and started kissing. Leo squirmed on his throne of pregnancy as his husband moved slowly up his belly toward his face. Marko gave him a deep, passionate kiss on the lips, causing Leo’s breath to shake slightly. “You love me so much,” he said in his quivering voice. “I”m so massive and pregnant and huge and round and you adore me like this.” he continued, getting a little emotional. “Of course I do,” replied Marko, giving his lovely husband a side-hug. “You’re my person, and you’re carrying a lot of persons, just for me, and that’s not easy. And I appreciate it. And I want you to know that I love you, both for doing that and for just being you!” Said Marko tenderly. Leo teared up a little, reaching out for another hug. Marko obliged, Leo wiping a couple tears on Marko’s 80’s style denim button-up.

“I couldn’t do all this without you, y’know… all… THIS!” Leo gestured to his astounding belly, which nudged with movement slightly in response. “You shouldn’t ever have to, babe. That’s why we have each other,” The two shared a tender silence, Marko rocking back and forth slowly. Leo sniffed and shook his head, “Augh, sorry. Pregnancy hormones… y’know… make me all emotional.” he said. “You’re allowed to be emotional, babe,” reassured Marko. “I know…” nodded Leo. 

Leo’s tummy rumbled and Marko chuckled, “You also get emotional when you’re hungry…” he pointed out. Leo laughed his bubbly, infectious laugh. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that… lemme see… the babies want…” he paused, “Potato soup!” Marko nodded, making his way to the kitchen to cook a huge batch. “Anything for you, my love,”

[em0avacado]

Pen Pals - Ezekiel Reyes

trigger warning : none other than brief mention of removing someone’s pelvis, wearing maybe.

word count : 2068

Dear Ezekiel,

Her first letter started simple, she wasn’t sure whether to address the inmate more formerly, or of this was fine, but with lack of better knowledge on this, she settled on that. It all started when curiosity got the best of her. She had a friend who would constantly talk about her very own pen pal, she’d talk about the stories theyd tell her, how they were interesting and that they had, in reality, not much better to do with their time in lockup. At first, the young woman was rather skeptical, but after reading some of her friends letters herself, the curiosity started eating her alive from the inside out. Maybe she’d give it a try, what’s the worst that could happen? So, after a few hours of extensive reasearch, she’d picked an inmate and began writing, although, after the first two words of the letter, she was stuck. It wasn’t long until she realized how much time had passed since she’d actually written a letter to someone who wasn’t her grandmother.

With a pen gripped tightly in her hand, the black ink began to spill onto the page as her mind finally came up with things to scribble onto the soft blue lines. The nails of her right hand tapping against the finished wood of her desk, it wasn’t long until she ripped the paper out of the coiled notebook and started over again.

Dear Ezekiel,

My name’s Ophelia, I’m about twenty six years old, and my favourite colour is orange, because it reminds me of orange creamsicles on a hot summers day. Seems childish, I’m aware, but alas, my curiosity only carried me so far. It’s been years since I’ve actually written a letter, let alone made a friend. You see, I’m a very reserved person but i supposed that the only way of really making friends with a pen pal is to start off by introducing myself into a bit more depth than small talk. The friends I do have, they call me Oph, no one really calls me by my first name.

God, she sounded so utterly stupid, she thought, but what else was there to write? Who even knew if this man would write back? No one, no one did. But, can’t be for sure unless she tries, right? right.

However, she went on, writing down anything she could possibly think of that could stark some sort of interest from the man behind bars. She went from how the green on the trees in the spring brought her a specific joy in her heart because when she was younger her father would point out that the green in forests meant that the wild life was happy, healthy, to explaining what the saw was initially invented for. Once her hand began to cramp, she called it a day. Folding the papers together neatly, she shoved them in an envelope and sent it off to the right address before her hesitation stopped her. Now; it was time to wait. And she hated waiting.

Without a real timeline in her head on when she’d hear back from Ezekiel, she waited days, then weeks, at some point, the thought seemed to slip her mind. Heading to work each day, only to head home, check her mail box, head inside, prepare herself for the night and get at least a few hours of sleep before doing it all again the next day. An impossibly boring routine that was disturbed when she found an envelope, with blue in scratched into the front. Reading the name ‘Ezekiel’ within the first few lines of the actual letter, thrilled her. Quickly, she tossed her bag and keys to the side, kicking the door shut behind her, she tore into the envelope and began to read.

Dearest Ophelia

You can tell me absolutely anything you wish to, just from your first letter i can tell that your mind is a place of wonder. If you think anything like you write, I’d love to pick your brain some day, those run on sentences really get a man thinking.

A wide grin spread across her lips, her eyes flit across the pages as she read ever word scribbled onto the lines in blue ink. He told her anything that reflected topics she covered, answering all the questions that she asked, even adding in commentary here and there. He matched the amount she wrote, rambling on just as much as she did.

P.s. were chainsaws really invented to cut open and take out the pelvis of a woman who took too long giving birth?

A cackle rolled passed her lips when she read that very last sentence, and she dove into explaining the history of it once more. Every letter she wrote, would end in a fact so buzzard it was hard to believe. The two went back and forth as fast as time would allow, matching the length of letters, each and every time. Quickly, that ugly blue ink from Ezekiels pen became her favourite colour, replacing the orange colours that she once preferred over all else.

But, all good things do eventually come to an end, for years, they’d go back and forth, writing letters and knowing everything about one another. Occasionally letters were sent with tear stains wrinkling papers from when she poured her heart onto the page, she’d sent a picture of herself once too, one she never got back. Dozens of paper cuts, empty pens and notepads empty, pages torn out and sent. Then, one day, it all just stopped, her last letter never got a response, she waited weeks, but weeks turned to months quickly and she assumed he’d gotten out, it wasn’t worth contacting her anymore now that he was set free into the world once again. It hurt, it shouldn’t have, he was just a pen pal, a friend who wasn’t permanent in the slightest, she knew that, she did, but that bond she thought they developed was broken. Perhaps she got attached, but, for lack of better wording, it sucked.

It was now the middle of December, and Ophelia had planned what she usually did during the holiday season. Nothing. She didn’t have family left, her friends had their own families to attend to, besides, she had just up and moved to a town she was dangerously unfamiliar with. Although, none of that really phased her. On her way home from work, she stopped by the store, a hardcore case of the munchies leading her down chips isle. Humming to herself softly, her eyes scanned the shelves, tossing a bag or two in her basket before strolling down the isle.

A small, white sheet of something, perhaps paper? Swayed to the ground slowly, landing rignt at her feet, with a quirked brow, she leant down and picked it up. The man who dropped it, standing not too far in front of her, didn’t seem to notice that he’s lost it. A man, with a buff figure, broad shoulders, he walked like he’d been constipated for a week now, his phone in hand, which his focused had zeroed in on. She trapped the small paper, which turned out to be a photograph. Ophelia didn’t want to look at it, to respect the mans privacy, but curiosity killed the cat, right?

The photo, she immediately recognized the bright red hair, the pearly white smile, the mess on the pale skin and the beaming green eyes. That was her, the photo? it was the one she sent to Ezekiel all those years ago, when they first started talking. But why did this man have it? With confusion, she rushed forward, tapping the man on his shoulder “excuse me -“ she started, but her words caught in her throat when he turned around, it was him. he looked like he did in the pictures on the sight, the one he sent her, just slightly older, his hair had a tight trim, he had a few more stress lines than the picture did.

The basket tucked under her arm just moments ago, hit the ground with a crash. Her eyes went wide, her skin paled. Ophelia looked like she’d just seen a ghost, Ez mimicking the shock on his own features. “you- i-“ she managed to get out, forcing her mouth shut.

A nervous chuckle came from Ez, paired with a weak “O- hey.” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

She raised her fist and punched him in the bicep “what the fuck?!” she asked, her shock replaced by anger as she waved the photo in front of him. “really?! I thought we were cool, friends? even? you said I was one of the best friends you’d ever made and I don’t even get as much as a ‘oh hey Ophelia I’m getting out talk to you never!’ ?! and you just carry my picture around like a creep?” she asked, pushing it against his chest and crossing her arms over her own. “well?”

“Listen, I’m sorry.” he said, looking for ways to explain himself, why he hadn’t kept in touch, any sort of excuse but there was nothing, truth was, he had wanted to stay in contact but everything with the club, and the deal, and pops got in the way, so it kept getting pushed back. “it was a dick move and I’m sorry.” he said, looking down at her.

“yeah no fucking shit.” she spoke, her arms still crossed over her chest, her glare burrowing holes into his head. She opened her mouth, ready to add more onto what was already said to him, but in that moment someone in a kutte that nearly matched his own, rounded the corner, ready to speak to Ez until her glare shifted from him to the slightly taller man, his green flannel buttoned up, chains clanging together.

“Hey boy sco-“ he stopped mid sentence, not taking another step, he narrowed his eyes at her, looking between her, and his brother, a smile came to his lips in realization “oh shit.” he laughed “you can deal with angry fire crotch on your own, I’ll wait outside.” he laughed, heading out and leaving the two alone again.

“Angel?” she asked, he looked exactly like Ez would explain in his letters, nodding his head, she furrowed her brows slightly and leaned down, picking her basket up again, hanging it in the crease of her elbow. “Look I get it, you got out, had better things to do, I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me but come on? We spoke for years, we bonded, or so I thought? Feels ridiculous now, but, hey, I hope that your life treats you better than it has, I’ll see you around.” she said, nodding her head at him, turning to head to the till when she felt his hand on her arm, spinning her around.

“I looked for you.” he started “not nearly hard enough but they never gave away your address, nothing, which was smart but I did look for you, where I could.” he confessed “not once did I forget about you, Ophelia, I couldn’t.” he dropped his arm when she stood, looking up at him.

“I know. Duh. Your memory is like- permanent.” she said, and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“okay smart ass that’s not what I meant.” he groaned. “you’re unforgettable, even if I could forget, I couldn’t.”

“you’re much smoother on paper” she added another little side note.

“Ophelia.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyways, that picture was the only that allowed me to feel a sense of home as of lately, and would be the only thing that did until i found you. That’s why I kept it.” he told her, her gaze softening. “Now that i have, found you, i won’t let you get away again.”

“sounds kidnap - y.” she muttered, interrupting him. He dropped his hands, slapping against his thighs with a soft sight, he shot her a glare.

“Ophelia I swear to god i’m trying to confess my feelings right now could you put a pause on that for a moment?” he asked her, raising a brow.

“no.” she said simply, scratching her nose. “don’t confess your undying love for me in the middle of a grocery store, please. That old lady has been listening and eyeing you this whole time.”

[wendimydarling]

Title: Convenience  

Summary: Clark doesn’t like sleeping out in the cold. 

Pairing: Clark Kent x OFC Reader 

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: Sex. There is sex.

A/N: So all this lovely text got deleted after I shared it. This story was a beast, but worth it to power through and finish. The idea came from this NSFW gif here, which gave me the thought “what if Clark was an escort while he was a nomad looking for his parents?” which then translated to “what if he just parachuted into each town if he didn’t intend to stay?” 

Song drabble number ? for the 500 Event, sent in anonymously!

Clark wasn’t saving for much, he was just looking for a place where he could remain anonymous, a place to hide from who he was. And that required a certain amount of cash put away. But it was hard to find a job when he was constantly on the road, and he was always on the road it seemed. No jobs meant no money, and no money meant no place to sleep. 

So Clark would offer out his services. He was young, handsome, and had the stamina of... well, of Superman.

He never asked for money. His preferred payment of choice was a place to crash and a shower, and breakfast if he could swing it. Though he’d never tell them that was what he was up to. Why hurt their feelings?

This particular evening, he’d come upon a small town in the middle of nowhere, as usual. Clark went straight to the local dive bar; that was the best place to find pretty girls desperate enough to take a man home. He entered the establishment and surveyed the room, a gruff expression etched into his features. Slim pickings tonight. Still, it was early, so he went to the bar, checking his wallet to see if he had enough for dinner and the drinks that would be needed. Just enough for the drinks. Fuck.

Clark ordered a beer, making kind but vague eyes at the girls staring at him from the corner. He was hoping for something a little more appetizing but beggars can’t be choosers, and either of them would be a better choice than sleeping out in the cold. He was nearing the end of his beer and had just resigned himself to his fate when she walked in.

Target acquired.

She was all legs; a pencil skirt gracefully hugged her figure and a low cut blouse accentuated her small bust. She was clearly out of place here, which meant either she was meeting someone, or she’d had a bad day and desperately needed a drink. Long dark curls hung over one of her shoulders, and she met his gaze with large, bambi eyes. He tipped his beer toward her and went back to his phone; she would not be easy prey. 

He had to make her comfortable, make her seem as though he wasn’t interested. She was pretty enough that some lug would make a move on her soon, and then Clark would step in and defend her. That typically works. She’d be grateful, offer him a beer of thanks, and then they’d get to chatting and he’d turn on the charm. She’d be putty in his hands.

Sure enough, a big ugly brute that had downed probably three beers too many sauntered up to the woman. 

“Hey, pretty lady,” he slurred, running a finger along her thigh. The woman grabbed his hand and firmly removed it from her leg, but the brute caught her wrist, pulling her close and leaning in for a kiss.

Clark watched the exchange through his glass, seeing how she’d manage. The woman tried to fight the man off but she was clearly overpowered, and her words weren’t working. Clark decided now was the time to intervene. He stepped in and clapped a hand on the idiot’s shoulder, squeezing harder than he should. The man was taken aback by his strength but he took a swing and Clark let him, knowing it would do far more damage to the brute, and would earn him some sympathy points. He pretended to fall down while the brute was thrown out of the bar, howling in pain and clutching his hand.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” 

Her large brown eyes met his steely blue as she touched his shoulder, and Clark shook his head in mock confusion, standing up at his full height to tower over her. He could hear her heart race faster, could see the blood in her veins pumping harder at his nearness. 

Target locked. 

He pressed the heel of his palm to his eye a couple of times.

“I’m fine, are you?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“Happy to help. No one else should bother you.”

Clark turned to head back to his drink.

“Can I buy you a beer?”

There it is. 

“No it’s alright; I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Come on, it’s the least I can do to say thank you.”

Clark turned to look at her, a smile on his face.

“Well, if you insist.”

Bullseye.

~~~~~~~

Claire had just wanted a drink. She hated this town, and couldn’t wait until this weekend when she could go back home. Being assigned to this town for two months had been hell, but in her line of work, shitholes like this just came with the paycheck.

But every now and then some fun would come her way. Like the man behind her. 

The man with impressive stature and beautiful black curls. The man with soft eyes, steel blue eyes that held a haunted past and an uncertain future. Steel… it’s fitting. That’s what I’ll call him. Claire didn’t want a relationship, just a good fuck, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Why hurt his feelings?

They were back at her apartment, she jimmying her key in the fickle lock as Steel held her close, his breath tickling her ear. His hands were at her hips, hiking her skirt ever so slowly up over her ass.

“Let me,��� he whispered, and Claire’s knees nearly buckled. His voice was so low, so husky, and it shot fire straight through her. Steel’s fingers gently slipped over and between hers as he grabbed the key from her, reaching around her body to grasp the door knob. A shiver ran down Claire’s spine as he kissed the back of her neck. The door swung open in seconds.

Claire stepped into the small apartment. Steel followed, greedily grabbing at her waist as she toed off her pumps. He spun her around and cupped her face gently with his hands, the first brush of his lips slow, heated. He smelled like cedar and smoke, and tasted like whiskey and hops. There was a pleasant flavor to his tongue that she couldn’t describe, one she’d never tasted before on any man. 

“Where’s your bedroom,” he asked, whispering again, and Claire moaned against his mouth.

“End of the hallway.”

He picked Claire up with such surprising ease, and never in her life had she felt so small. It was as if she weighed nothing. She straddled his broad waist and his hands grasped her ass as he walked her down the hall, his lips never leaving hers. As they reached the bedroom, Claire felt his fingers clasp the zipper of her skirt, revealing her soft skin slowly as he continued to taste her lips. 

Every touch felt gentle and firm but calculated, as if he was restraining himself from something. So when her blouse was suddenly yanked open, Claire gasped in surprise. Quickly relieved of the torn garment, Steel hoisted her in the air again and tossed her onto the bed. A pang shot through her belly at the feeling of being so roughly handled, and the way he licked his lips as he stared at her like she was his prey left her loins singing. 

Steel undressed carefully as Claire stared at him, and she wondered briefly if he was even human. Every sinew, every muscle stood out from underneath taut skin, dark curls trailing down his abdomen to frame the largest cock she’d ever seen. He stared back, his eyes taking in her own petite form, decorated elegantly with the dark undergarments she’d been left in. 

He crawled to her slowly, hovering above her, trapping her in the cage of his body. His lips fell back onto hers, his hands tracing every line of her skin. Claire shivered at the touch; it had been awhile since she’d brought someone home, and she wondered how she’d forgotten the heavenly feeling of being pressed into a mattress by the delicious weight of a man. 

His lips were talented, dedicated, travelling the length of her neck to the valley of her breasts. His hot breath warmed her nipple through her bra, and he gently pulled the cup down to reveal the sensitive nub to his tongue. Claire arched her back and Steel took the opportunity to reach underneath her, unclasping her bra and holding her in that position to afford himself more access to her chest. She gasped as his lips returned to the beautiful center of her breast, sucking it effortlessly into a peak that he could flick with the tip of his tongue.

Claire writhed and moaned beneath him, gasping and mewling at the feel of his mouth on her flushed skin. He trailed wet kisses down her ribs to her hips, fingers running along her thighs, hands forcing her wider. He grasped her underwear in his teeth and pulled gently, his nose running along her leg until Claire joined him in his nakedness. Those teeth made their way back up her other leg, nipping at her tender flesh as she whined, her soft sounds begging him for more. 

Steel’s fingers discovered her sex, slipping easily through the slick that had coated her folds. Claire couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet, this fast, but the moment his fingers slid deep inside of her body she realized that she didn’t care. He was knuckle deep and somehow able to push so hard that Claire’s body snapped; no build up, no swell. She had been picked up and dropped over the edge, and shock rang clear on her face as she came without warning around his fingers. 

He watched her with the knowing look of a man who has done this before, a man who knew the effect he had on women. But the gleam in Steel’s eye had a dullness to it that Claire noticed, almost a sadness. It made her want to comfort him, though she didn’t know why. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek with her thumb and he wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisting her into a sitting position. 

Claire was higher than she expected and looked down to discover that Steel was holding her literally with just his hand, impaling her core with his fingers. Shocked pleasure contorted her face as she snapped her head up to look at him, confusion and arousal striking her features. A second orgasm barrelling toward her at lightning speed the moment he wiggled his fingers against her cervix, and Claire clasped her hands around Steel’s neck, her forehead falling to his shoulder as her body convulsed. He held her close, burying his face in her hair. His lips surround her collarbone, the comforting caress of soft kisses alighting on her flushed skin as she rejoins him from the clouds.

“Well fuck,” Claire exclaimed breathlessly, and Steel chuckled, brushing her clit on purpose as he removed his fingers from her wet heat. She gasps and bucks her hips, sliding off of his lap and onto the bed. He grinned at her, flipping her over effortlessly. Claire felt like a rag doll, and it made her bite her lip in anticipation.

She watched him through hooded eyes as he tore open the square foil. How had she missed his beauty when she first saw him in the bar? Long lashes brushed his cheeks every time he blinked, dark curls hung over his forehead. He had a strong jaw, and there was a smattering of freckles over his nose that were only just barely visible in the low light of the room. He looked up at her and Claire’s heart skipped a beat at the dark lust that had taken over his amiable features. 

Steel knelt on the bed and grasped her hips, yanking Claire up to meet him. She felt the tip of his length press against her folds, but for some reason he hesitated. Claire pushed against him, whining softly and urging him to continue. Faster than she thought possible he was sheathed inside of her and she cried out, the sudden fullness bursting through her abdomen. She gasped and moaned, panting heavily as her body tried to reject him, but Steel slowly eased them down so that he was lying on top of her, holding still so that Claire could grow accustomed to his size. He kissed her cheek softly, slipping a hand underneath her to tease her opening. 

Claire shifted as Steel’s fingers cupped her mound. He spread her folds, softly stroking her clit with his middle finger as she adjusted slowly. She clenched around him, filled with an unbelievable desire to be fucked raw by this astonishing person. He thrust into Claire once, testing her, and she uttered a moan, throaty and full of need. 

“Please!” Claire whispered urgently. Steel didn’t hesitate this time; he began thrusting into her in earnest, ripping her apart seam by seam. Claire cried out each time he struck deepest, her eyes closed, face skewed in the painful pleasure of sexual rapture. She could hear Steel’s voice in her ear, grunts and growls winding the coil in her belly tighter and tighter. One of his hands laced with hers for support and the other continued to play with her folds, spurring her on to another tumble over the edge. 

Unable to move, the coil sprang open, and stars burst behind Claire’s eyes as she came. She heard Steel groan as her walls milked his cock, and he sat the two of them up suddenly. His hands grasped her hips and slammed her repeatedly down onto his pulsing length, and Claire fisted her hands in the sheets, her orgasm remaining strong. Harder and stronger, stronger than she’d ever felt a man before, he snapped his hips up into her until she felt his cock swell, releasing everything he had. Claire slumped to the bed when he was finished, exhausted beyond belief. 

Panting heavily, she turned and watched through tired eyes as Steel cleaned up. He hardly seemed out of breath and Claire couldn’t believe it; she was gasping for air. He came back over to the bed and laid the blanket on top of her, and Claire grabbed his hand and pulled. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. Steel slipped under the covers and draped his arm over her still-trembling form, brushing her hair softly from her face. Her eyes soon closed and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Clark watched the woman’s chest rise and fall as she slept. Everything about her was beautiful. He closed his eyes and listened to the thump of her heart, the rush of blood sweeping through her pulse points, the sharp draft of air swelling her lungs. The gentle ambient melody of her body lulled Clark into a sense of calm, and he found that self-loathing that often accompanied his thoughts in this moment didn’t appear this time; he was peaceful for once. He snuggled into her warmth as he fell asleep with her, comforted by the soft bed and the notion of a shower tomorrow. He might also find comfort in her body again in the morning, but for now, this was enough.

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

[random-mha-thoughts]

Burden (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Anon asked: “yo so for some Todoroki angst, what about his gf breaking up with him because Endeavor had told her to because he didn't want her to get in the way of Todoroki's "purpose" (she does tell him this) which leads to a very depressed Todoroki left wondering what he did wrong and desperately trying to get her back? Could end happily if you want, up to u"

Genre: Angst to fluff

(Submission 2/3 of Todoroki angst from my post a few days ago) 

Word count: 1,993

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Legit I’m so tired I almost fell asleep in the middle of writing this, but I wanted to get this out for you guys before the night ended, so I banged it out.  It’s not as intense as Name and it ends happily so I hope you guys enjoy and are left with some fuzzy feelings at the end :3

I wrote this kind of gender neutral soooo yeah, read it as you want to!  Thanks again for the submission anon! I appreciate you!

It hurts to break Todo’s heart.  He’s baby, I just love him so much I wanna protect him :(

Also question, do you guys care if there’s a pic at the top of every post or nah?

From the moment Aizawa told me Endeavor wanted to speak to me, I knew something would go utterly wrong.

"I want you out of my son's life," he ordered bluntly.  "I have big plans for Shouto to become the top hero one day, he doesn't need to be sidetracked by high school romance."

Todoroki had warned me how pushy and controlling his father was, which is why he always kept our relationship somewhat secretive.  I don't even know where or when his father saw us together.  It's shocking, but I can't say I'm totally surprised he's saying it.

"Sir, with all due respect," I'm trying to be polite, but I want to give the man a piece of my mind after all the things Shouto's told me, "Shouto wouldn't appreciate you getting involved in his personal life.  This was a decision he made without you, and I'd say he's happy with it."

Endeavor rolls his eyes and rests his hands on his desk.  "Shouto doesn't know what's good for him.  Besides, I'm sure he only agreed to be in a relationship with you just to rebel against me.  He holds no true feelings for you."

I gape at his statement.  Is he for real?  "I don't know how you could possibly know that, I don't think Todoroki said anything to you about me or his feelings."

The man's turquoise eyes scan me uncomfortably.  "I remember your performance from the Sports Festival.  You barely even made it past the obstacle course round, and the only reason you advanced to the finals was because you happened to be on a winning team.  You even lost your first battle.  Your quirk and your abilities are nothing special."

I clench my fists, rage coursing through my blood.  "Excuse me-"

"Which is why a weakling like you wouldn't be a good match for my son," he continues.  "Think about it.  My son's power is immense, he can stand on his own in a match.  You probably need support from someone else.  He'll eventually grow tired of you and he'll toss you aside for someone on the same level as him."  Endeavor glances at the clock on his desk.  "Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting planned."  He rises from his chair and strolls out of the room.  "Give it some thought and I'm sure you'll make the right choice."

I'm left in the middle of his office, shaking and seeing red with rage.  I want to punch and scream in his face.  I don't care if he's some big-shot pro hero, he can takes his words and shove it where the Sun doesn't shine.  How can he talk that way to people so easily? Exasperated (and afraid I'll break something if I stay), I huff out of the room and back to the dorms, mumbling and cursing to myself about all the things I'd like to do to Todoroki's father.

And I hate to admit it, but what he said really gets to me.  My quirk isn't a strong, elemental type like Shouto's.  All I can do is heat things I touch until they melt or burn, including human skin.  I couldn't do much in the Sports Festival except block my opponents by melting the ground beneath them or throwing flaming objects at them.  I've always had a love-hate relationship with my quirk because it was always too destructive or too weak to be a hero's quirk, but I've always tried to use it in offensive ways to help me fight.

As I get off the train, I sigh, Endeavor's words swimming in my mind.  I hate that he might actually be right.  I'm pretty useless.  I can't help Shouto improve himself when he has to worry about constantly building me up and supporting me.  I'd just be a burden to him.

It breaks my heart to know that I'm actually considering going through with this.  Damn it, I can't believe I let Endeavor win.

I trudge into the common room of the dorms.  Everyone's watching TV, eating, or reading.  Shouto turns around from his position near the wall, just observing everyone.  As soon as he sees me, his blank face softens into a smile, making my heart sink.  I hate to break his heart, but it's for the best.

"Hey, where were you?  I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't come back before curfew."  His eyes melt right into mine, displaying nothing but warmth.

My stomach churns.  Aizawa had told me privately, so Todoroki doesn't know I just faced his father.  "My parents needed me to go grocery shopping for them.  They're both out of town, so they didn't get to go before they left."  I bite my lip, dreading what's going to come next.  "Can we...talk outside?"

The fondness stiffens into anxiety and I see his Adam's apple move as he gulps.  "Okay."

Once we're outside, it gets more difficult for me to look him in the eyes because I'm afraid I'll cry, and I have to be the strong one.  I take a deep breath to calm myself, feeling his eyes on me.  Just rip it off like a band-aid.  "I think we should break up."

At first I thought I'd said it too quickly for him to understand, but the way his face falls confirms he heard just fine.  I feel like I've just kicked the most precious puppy in the world, I want to cry in his arms and confess everything that just happened, but I can't.

The confusion and despair mixes in his eyes as he stares at he ground, his eyes flickering back and forth.  "Did I do something wrong?  Please tell me, I'll fix it."

My throat threatens to close up, but I swallow hard.  "It's nothing you did, Shouto.  I just think we might've rushed into this.  We let our feelings get in the way of why we're really here, and it wasn't to get into relationships."  I muster up the courage to stare at him with a hardened look.  "We should focus on our real priorities from now on.  I'm sorry."

Shouto's crestfallen expression kept falling with every word I said and I can't take anymore.  I calmly walk back inside the dorm and head upstairs to my room, about to explode into tears and I can't let anyone see it.  As soon as I shut the door, I break into sobs and collapse onto my knees.  The memory of his face right before I left remains behind my eyelids.  I hate possibly seeing him cry or get angry.  For both of our sake, I'm praying that he gets over it quickly.  We only dated for a few months, he should get over it fairly quickly.

.

He didn't get over it.

Even after almost a week, Shouto never failed to get through a day without boring holes in the back of my head.  He seemed so lost without me even when he's surrounded by his friends.  It got to the point where I decided to start having my lunch in an empty classroom because I would feel like breaking down whenever I meet his heartbroken stare.

There were even a few times where he would come up to me in the halls while I stopped to talk to someone and tried to talk to me, but I had to politely smile and tell him I was busy with the person I was with and then walk away.

It hurts.  It just hurts so much.

But if it means we can both benefit and get stronger without me burdening him, I have to stand my ground.  I started throwing myself into intense training alone.  I'm trying to focus my quirk on emitting heat to things so I don't have to touch them, but I'm not getting anywhere fast with it.

After a few days of frustrating myself, Shouto suddenly bangs the door open in the middle of my training.  At first I want to politely ask him to leave, but the anger burning in his eyes stops me as he marches to stand right in front of me.  I feel terribly small in his presence, I don't even want to meet his eyes.  "What-"

"Why didn't you tell me my father asked to see you?" he asks, his voice dangerously low, like a time bomb waiting to explode.

I feel my face lose all color.  How did he find out?  "Who-?"

"Uraraka told me," he answers before I can finish, fists clenching at his sides.  "I had a hunch there was something wrong.  What did he tell you?"

I'm torn between answering and keeping my mouth shut, incapable of even looking him in the eyes for fear I might fall apart right here.  "N-Nothing," I manage feebly.

"Tell me," the edge in his voice growing.  The room gets hotter and colder at the same time as Shouto's quirk starts releasing out of his control.

I scrunch my eyes shut to hold back tears.  "H-He told me you didn't actually have feelings for me and that you're only dating me to rebel against him," I sniff, "And then he said I'm too weak for you, that I'm nothing special, and you'll eventually get tired of me because I can't hold my own in a battle and you'd rather be with someone with the same ability level as you."  The hot tears finally escape my eyes and run down my face.  "And he's right, isn't he?  I'm just a burden to you.  I'm probably better suited to be someone's sidekick than a hero.  I'm nowhere near the same level as you."

I reach up to wipe my face of my stupid tears when Shouto steps closer and gently wipes them away with his thumbs.  His hands remain there, holding my head between his hands, the familiar gesture making me choke out a sob.  Anger had melted away into understanding and sympathy.  "I don't care about the strength of your quirk or how useful you are in battle.  I care about you, as the person I love.  And I'd never get tired of you."

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and I collapse into his chest, my arms wrapping around him and gripping the back of his shirt as I let everything out.  His comforting fresh scent calms me down as he pats my back.

"I'm sorry, Shouto," my sobs muffle into his clothes, "I let him get to me.  I was too weak to tell you anything and I thought you wouldn't want me anymore.  I'm sorry I put you through this."

The boy buries another kiss in my hair.  "I knew you wouldn't think of this on your own, love.  You know how much I care about you."

"I know," I sniff again separating from him and wiping my face, "I was stupid.  I made both of us suffer for no reason."

Shouto cradles my cheek with his left hand and I lean into his warm, holding onto his wrist.  "Can we get back together then?  I miss you a lot."  Those mismatched eyes hold more love in them than I can even fathom.  They choke me up so much I can only nod.

His icy hand pulls me in by my waist before sealing our lips together in a sweet reunion kiss.  We move against each other, familiar feelings burst out of us to express exactly how much we missed out on each other in the past couple weeks.

Shouto pulls away just far enough to keep our foreheads still pressed together.  "If my father ever tries to meet you again, you're taking me with you.  I'm not letting him disrespect you like that.  He needs to know his place."

"Okay. don't get so worked up," I kiss his nose, to which he blushes and I giggle.  "Now can you help me with my training now?  I need to catch up with you."

[asterekmess]

S3A - E9

The last episode took me Hours to get through with all my notes, let’s hope this one doesn’t hurt my fingers so bad.

My fingers hurt too much to come up with a clever pun so Read More:

Thoughts:

This is a dumb first bullet point, but I love Tara’s hair. It looks like it’s braided or something, then in a bun at the back? I like it.

What exactly was the reasoning for her walking into the school alone like this? Let alone going That far into it? If it’s a 911 call that she’s so nervous about she has her hand on her gun, then shouldn’t there be more than one officer??

ALSO, that seems like Very Bad routine procedure? You got a 911 call (but we get no explanation as to what it was FOR) and the first thing you say when you see someone is “Why are you here?” shouldn’t you be asking “Who made the 911 call?” And then you tell them to leave, and to tell anyone Else they see to leave. When they could easily SEE the person you’re wanting to aim a gun at and TELL them to leave because there’s a cop in the school.

So I’m torn between Julia being just that sick and wanting to terrify each of her sacrifices (which...she talks about them like she’s Genuinely sad she had to kill them, but it was necessary to save the world, so that doesn’t sit right with me?) or fear being a Necessary part of the ritual, like, that the sacrifices Couldn’t be willing?

Honestly, Lyds, that’s so smart and reasonable. “I had to have the weird blackout to get here. YOU get to go find the body.”

What was the point of the staging in the shower room if she was gonna get thrown onto the sign?? Why move her at all?

ALSO if this is supposed to be a threefold death, then didn’t she do it wrong? She killed Tara by strangulating her, but didn’t do the head bash or the throat until after she’d moved her body, for some reason??? Don’t they need to happen like..near the same time?

No to mention that there wouldn’t be much blood bc her throat was slit After death, so the blood wasn’t pumping. Even laying her down wouldn’t render a large amount. But they’re going for horror, so...i guess i’ll let it pass.

Why does it feel like Julia is going after people close to STiles specifically? First Heather, now Tara? And then his Dad? That’s a weird coincidence when she’s got the entire town to choose from.

Also, sheriff, i love you, but ‘they’re not going to get away with killing one of our own.” is a REALLY fucked up line. Police getting pissed ONLY when other Police are the ones killed is SO FUCKED UP. Logistically, police are FAR more likely to get killed than citizens are, aren’t they? They’re the ones that’re supposed to be running into danger? Like, Soldiers don’t Only get pissed when other soldiers are killed, right? It’s literally like...your job to be in potentially fatal situations? that’s not even my point! My point is that your line implies that law enforcement was Half-assing it before a cop got killed. half a dozen people have died, so Beacon Hills should be Swarming with cops, but for some reason the big guns don’t come in until a cop dies? Your phrasing sucks, Noah. Were you gonna let them get away with it if they killed everybody BUT the cops? I’m being sarcastic on that last bit, btw.

I’ll admit, it’s nice to get some actual SUNSHINE in CALIFORNIA

Is Chris letting Allison stay home because she saw a dead body? FOr as long as she wants? I’m so confused, she’s seen Much worse things, shouldn’t it like raise an alarm that she’s choosing NOW to stay home?

Your badassery is tainted by the fact that you’re wearing a dress and fishnets, Allison. If you’re gonna go hunting put on some pants. or shorts AT LEAST. that’s just not Practical.

I love how blatant a lie Stiles is telling Julia in class. “do you play?” “No, my father does” when we Know he plays, and besides if his dad plays then stiles MUSt because that’s a two person thing most of the time? But no, he doesn’t want Julia to know Shit about him.

the loyalty of Lydia not going near Aiden after learning he killed Boyd is SO refreshing. I TOLD you, if she knew Aiden was a murderer she’d never have gotten with him in the first place.

NOt Derek. CORA. MY BABE BONDS FAST. (I mean, she was locked in a bank vault with him for however long)

FIrst off, I love Stiles losing his shit. Second, the acting here is so sub-par, and it looks like a writer’s mistake. okay, so, in acting, interruption is an ART. You have to let someone say enough to get their line across, but INterrupt them before they can finish in a way that looks natural. And you have to make sure not to come in late or you get an awkward pause (this is more common with newbies bc experience actors don’t stop their line, they keep it going until you figure it out.) So like The line is ...And shove it up your freaking--” Now, Scott needs to interrupt without being late, otherwise, unless Stiles Continues the line, he’ll pause after saying ‘freaking’ and it’ll be noticeable. here, the way scott interrupts him feels So Wrong, in part because he let’s Stiles get so far into his threat.

Also, I’m fucking pissed that Scott is downplaying how angry Stiles is. “okay, we get it.” is just...a garbage way to respond to a friend who’s hurting and clearly on edge, thinking Ethan is threatening him.

Exactly How do you “Know” Ethan didn’t want to kill Boyd? You weren’t there, fuckface.

Is this set after school? They’re shouting their heads off and no one’s coming? Even Stiles was shouting about wolfsbane.

THAT IS NOT HOW ACTUAL WOLF PACKS WORK YOU FUCKER. THAT’S A GARBAGE MYTH.

Hearing Cora’s little gasp as her head hit the wall hurt my heart.

Normally I’d be pissed about the girl standing back and not doing anything, but Lydia would be ripped apart and I do not blame her for shouting from the sideline.

I don’t understand what the hell is going on with the Chris stuff. Like, I guess he’s supposed to be looking into it on his own, but that still doesn’t explain where he got the information on this very specific ritual.

But I do understand Allison’s hesitance to outright ask her father what the fuck he’s doing, since last time that happened she was taken to a chained up derek in an underground tunnel system. Finding out her family are monsters is kind of her entire life, unfortunately.

Honestly, fuck yes. Cora go off. Though, I’m sad that no one is mentioning Erica, like At All. You realize she ALSO died at the hands of the ALphas, right? why does no one mention her when they talk about getting revenge?

I...am not talking about this scene.

I gotta say that I enjoy the fact that Allison called Stiles. That’s just...that’s p cool. BUT while it’s cute that her contact picture is from her conversation with Stiles in s2, it’s weird bc it’s a screenshot of the show, and we know that Stiles wasn’t taking pictures at that moment. But the effort is sweet!

I will say that it’s interesting that Cora doesn’t fight Stiles about helping him with his dad. She just finished yelling at Scott, Lydia, and presumably Stiles, and she’s clearly unhappy with literally everyone but Derek, but she’s been very humoring of Stiles. In every scene together, even when she’s snarking at him, she’s not an Asshole.

This conversation with Morrell makes...no sense. Scott literally said in the last episode that good liars wouldn’t have jumping heartbeats when they lied. Then he immediately went to ask Morrell if she was the killer and believed her (even though she’s sketchy as fuck) just because her heart didn’t jump. Wtf?

“But if I kill someone, I can’t be a True Alpha, right?” WHO SAID THAT EVER? WHO TOLD YOU THAT? SINCE WHEN? WTF?

I don’t know if it was intentional (maybe they mention it, but i haven’t gotten that far) but technically having this history teacher disappear leaves an empty class for Kira’s dad to fill when she shows up. Which is neat.

I will forever be angry that Aiden is touching Lydia here. He shouldn’t be near her. And that’s not even me being cranky! She IS PISSED AT HIM. She was avoiding him before today and even then the only reason she went near him was to act as a distraction.

Also, again, I am amazed at Cora’s PATIENCE with Stiles here. Seriously, they’ve clearly been there for a while as Stiles tries to find the words, but Cora didn’t just get pissed stand up and say “I’m a werewolf. People are dying. Help.” She continued to wait for him to talk.

When does stiles rearrange his room? I swear in the beginning of this season it was still in the previous formation with the corner bed sticking out and the desk under the window. Now the desk is facing a totally different direction and his bed’s up against the wall. It’s great, but like, when does it happen? Isn’t this literally the second time we’ve seen his room the whole season?

that’s such a weird text. “Mr Westover Missing” like I don’t know if it’s from Lydia or Scott, but you’re allowed to add some detail? Your keystrokes aren’t limited and there are no government agencies watching your texts for information.

Oh, poor Cora. I honestly wasn’t expecting to bond with her so quickly when I first saw her, but there’s something about getting to see characters being calm that really helps me vibe with them? Like, when they’re nothing but Fight Fight Fight it’s hard to actually relate in any way, but when you actually get to see them talk or relax, then you worry about that being taken away from them.

However much I hate Isaac and everyone else Constantly saying “But I want Scott here. We should ask Scott, blah blah blah” I will say that it’s getting REALLY annoying that Allison’s entire personality is “I”m going to run in with almost zero backup bc I want to be powerful and strong, but then I have to be saved bc I refused to ask for help in the first place.”

Wtf do you mean ‘i’m not that good at this yet’ Isaac? You’ve been a werewolf for literally like 5 months, only like two months less than Scott, and you were LIVING with a born werewolf for that ENTIRE time.

Chris you were shooting at nothing for like two-thirds of that time. That was an empty room. ALSO, if you’ve been there the whole time, why did you wait until he was dead to come out shooting?

Chris yells “help Him” and you go run to stand next to his body without bothering to pull him off the cord around his neck? You realize he might not be completely dead right? Or is his throat already cut?

Also, I wanna note, it was daylight when Cora passed out. Now it’s dark! He went to the ER with her and STAYED with her. I get that people say STiles is kind of callous, but he Constantly goes out of his way for near strangers, and I don’t think that should be overlooked.

No youfcking wouldn’t have Chris, you had tons of time while they were using the garrotte and you just stood there. They came in just before the kill was done, and except for Tara Julia has been leaving people’s bodies where they fall so she wouldn’t left right after. You were NOT ‘this’ close.

Yeah, yeah, and you’re both fucking guilty of being incapable of conversation. Chris you are the adult here, fucking act like it. You had a million chances to confront your daughter and you didn’t. Apparently that’s a habit she picked up from you.

What are they talking about, Scott healing himself?? He was thrown back, he wasn’t injured. I literally just went back and rewatched that scene. He falls backward and he’s completely fine. Stiles, there are so many better instances you could point to. For example, things that actually Happened.

That line is never gonna not hurt.

Stop touching Danny. Stop being near Danny. You are a literal serial killer, get your hands off him. GOD. your brother literally said he would murder danny if he saw you with him anymore, why are you putting him in danger? FUck you.

.....okay, lydia’s speech was meaningful until she fucking turned it into scott worship. Why couldn’t you have stopped at letting her say “maybe I’ll find them before it happens” Why couldn’t it be about HER for once? Why did you have to make it about how everyone thinks sunshine comes out Scott’s ass even though he’s literally not done a single thing to warrant it. He hasn’t Saved Anyone. He hasn’t done Anything to warrant all this trust. Lydia wasn’t there when he made Derek kill Gerard. SHE was the one to save Jackson. And Scott was the one who had to be saved BOTH when Allison had to stitch him up and when Stiles had to go after him in the gasoline. Jackson is the one who saved Lydia when Peter went after her. Scott Didn’t save deaton, that was Noah. He wasn’t the one who killed Peter, that was a combination of Stiles and Jackson’s molotovs and Derek’s claws. Scott wasn’t even the one to protect Lydia when Derek and the pack went after her, that was Stiles, Allison, and Jackson. SHe had no idea that Scott was even THERE until she ran out of the house. Scott didn’t stop Matt, that was Allison’s family scaring him off and then Gerard killing him. THe only possible thing that could count was him saving the two little kids while Boyd and Cora were running around in the woods, and Lydia doesn’t even KNOW about that. Scott has canonically done NOTHING worth all this faith and ‘leader’ nonsense.

were...were they hinting at a Scott/Lydia relationship before they brought Kira in? Holding hands isn’t really a friend thing...?

That....is the softest most broken little ‘hey’ that I’ve ever heard and I’m Instantly on the verge of tears, holy shit.

Derek, honey, what do you mean ‘not again’? You’ve never left Cora, unless you count moving to New York with Laura and Cora was in South America! This line would make so much more sense if they’d given us Any idea what happened to Cora after the fire.

Normally, i’d be annoyed that Melissa is just ignoring the laws about paperwork. I’d even be annoyed that she did it for the Sheriff. BUT, Melissa is in the know about the supernatural and she KNOWS that the murders are supernatural. I’m sorry but Supernatural needs trump human laws. Melissa is totally a boss for this.

EYYYY actual druid (specifically magician druids) thing they got right (though i’m not sure it was on purpose). Magician Druids were Very Well Known for their nature magic. For causing storms and droughts and high winds and fog. The building storm around the school is like, Peak magician magic.

God, it really....it really grinds my gears watching Isaac’s progression toward the most abuse he can find. You notice how, in season 2 when Derek was attacking the Betas on the regular and doing awful shit like breaking Isaac’s hands, Isaac was loyal as Fuck to him? (right up until randomly going to Scott to decide whether to leave town) Then, this season, we start off with Derek being pretty fucking gentle, there’s no indication that he’s been continuing the abuse. Isaac questions his command and Derek’s response is ‘do you trust me?’ to which Isaac easily says yes. In fact, Isaac asks Derek to be the one to hurt him for the memory seeking thing, and Derek refuses because he wants to do what’s Safer for Isaac.Then he throws the glass and Isaac bails bc it’s a direct reminder of what his dad did. Only he goes to Scott, who was incredibly violent toward him in the previous season. (And who we know will be violent toward him in the future as well) But the only time he lists away from Scott, is to go after Allison, who Tackled him to the ground and held a knife to his throat, and whose father inherently hates werewolves and is a constant danger to him. Yet he never goes in the direction of people who Haven’t hurt him. He could go to Deaton, who’d taught him the pain-drain thing and was nothing but kind to him in that short time. He could’ve gone to Boyd after Derek’s lashing out, his pack member, who would never hurt him. Hell, he hates Stiles’ guts, but he could still have gone to him. Stiles was the one to help Derek free him from Jail after all, and he’s not wanted anymore so Noah wouldn’t have anything against him. Stiles may have threatened Isaac to keep him from hurting Lydia, but he never personally laid a hand on him. But he went to Scott. Someone who’s beaten him bloody multiple times.

So, really focusing on the details here, but on Julia’s death record, her  ‘jane doe’ occupation is listed as “Child” Oh, and apparently there was Froth present on the body.

Okay, so I think I understand what they’re saying. The reason Julia lived after getting to the hospital was because the birds sacrificed themselves and their life force kept her holding on. Now, either this was a spontaneous thing, and the birds did it For her. Or she Made them, because we know she doesn’t need to Be There to control weird shit. She could’ve set it up before she left the Nemeton or passed out or whatever. My confusion is. If that’s the explanation for the bird suicides, then what the Fuck happened on the first day when all the birds came crashing through the window?? There was no reason for that to happen. She was totally fine! And doing it to frighten people doesn’t make sense because she set off the radars of everything supernatural in town. (And Stiles.)

This kind of mass mind-control is kind of insane and makes the situation with Derek just That much more awful. I am so sickened.

Now, on the subject of the chanting, I assume it’s part of the ritual since it’s present at the deaths so much. The question is, where did Julia Get it? THOUGHTS: This chant isn’t present at any of the virgin kills. It’s not there with Heather, and while we don’t see the boy at the pool’s abduction/death, Emily Also didn’t hear it during her hallucination. What if it’s part of the virgin sacrifice perk? Like, Julia could Only Use it after killing the virgins, because it’s got some kind of mind-control thing about it?

Wh--why didn’t Julia tape her arms down before she woke up? Why make the garrotte before ensuring her victim couldn’t Punch her in the face??

I thought you JUST said she wasn’t going to be a sacrifice?

Still confused. You didn’t sacrifice Lydia, so that doesn’t count as the third philo, but then the teacher who died onstage wasn’t a threefold death, or the hanging thing, they just got their throat cut and they were poisoned. So....what? Was that supposed to count as your sacrifice?

Nobody TOUCHES Noah, who managed to be the only fucking cop on tv i’ve ever seen follow sensible procedure which is to shoot them in the fucking leg when they walk toward you menacingly, rather than threatening to shoot them in the head and doing nothing.

Final Thoughts:

There was a lot in this episode that didn’t make sense. It’s very clearly an amping up for the finale thing, but it’s annoying that after all this time they’ve essentially made the Alpha pack a time waster. The whole thing with getting Derek in the pack is relatively meaningless now that there’s a Darach going after the Alphas. I dunno, feels kinda off.

Anyway, onward.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

Any thoughts on Annabeth and Percy as parents? Poseidon just changing his cap from Neptune's lucky cap to world's saltiest grandpa sjsjsns

World’s Saltiest Grandpa is the FUNNIEST fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life and it’s definitely happening jskddlsjfdkls

anyway I feel like the first one would definitely be a. uh. happy surprise™

like, they haven’t been married for a full year and are still settling into their new lives and one day Grover comes over to hang with Annabeth and he senses™ something and is like ‘hey….sweetie….why don’t we go to the drugstore’ and she starts flipping out lmao

anyway once she gets 3 positive tests she starts going into Planning mode, she’s got Grover there and she’s acting all rational and she’s talking about it to Piper and Hazel in their gc and she seems very calm and happy, and they’re coming up with cute ways to tell Percy right

like they started planning out a whole sweet little reveal thing

but then Percy gets home from work and this poor fucker isn’t even all the way in the door when she just screeches from across the room “I’M PREGNANT” and he’s like “W H A T”

so they’re screaming in excitement for most of the night after that lmao

if you think this isn’ t the biggest fucking gossip on Olympus then you’ve got another thing coming

Aphrodite has swooned 12 different times since the news drooped. Hera is screaming. Hestia is about to fucking set up camp in the Jackson’s backyard. Poseidon won’t shut the fuck up about how excited he is. Zeus is quaking. Apollo is weeping and has written multiple dramatic poems about this event. Athena is torn between fuming and excitement. Artemis has shown up to every single fucking doctor’s appointment disguised as a nurse. We’re talking 24/7 coverage on Hephaestus TV, baby

Annabeth is one of those bitches that lowkey thrives being pregnant. constantly glowing. everyone in her birthing classes hates her lmao

Percy 100% gets sympathy cravings and you KNOW it

Sally broke the world record for ‘worlds longest scream’ when she found out she’s SO excited

Piper literally will not stop buying baby stuff like every single week they get more packages of toys and clothes from her

Meanwhile Hazel and Frank won’t stop knitting baby blankets and hats and Leo built a fucking magical crib that would turn into a fucking indestructible barrier if a monster ever attacked AND includes a built in holographic light that will make the room look like it’s underwater

Percy and Annabeth are constantly just talking to the bump and not even in the cutesy way like she’ll fucking be at work and be giving out instructions and then go ‘that sounds good, doesn’t it _(baby name)_?’ or ‘Linda, ____ thinks that’s a terrible idea’ while looking down at her stomach and her coworkers think it’s hilarious

or they’ll be arguing about something and Percy’ll be like ‘Yeah, well, at least ____ agrees with me!’ lmao

She wakes up one day to find Percy put headphones on her stomach and is blasting Adele on them and she’s like ‘it’s classical music to make them smarter, Percy’ and he’s like ‘yeah but SOMEONE in this house needs to not be emotionally stunted so I’m giving them a chance’ jfsksdf

100% Nico has received a desperate phone call in the middle of the night because Annabeth’s craving shit that they can’t get anywhere near them at 3 am so he had to go on a shadow travel run to get it for her lmao

Her mood swings get so insane but like remember on Parks and Rec when Ann was pissed at Chris for just being. TOO supportive? 100% percabeth antics

Annabeth is So Determined to work through her pregnancy and not go on leave and it’s driving Percy absolutely insane

Every single morning he’s just like babe please….be a sane human… lmao

when she went into labor it was. hectic

they had been trying to plan a trip to either CHB or CJ so she could deliver with like Actual Healers who won’t get freaked out if people zapped into the room and also they’d be near family right 

and then the kid was like what if,,,,,,,,I came more than a month early. wouldn’t that be fun

lmao so cut to a scene of Percy speeding down the streets of their little town, both of them screaming their heads of, a fucking flock of owls tailing after their car,

there’s a heavy thunderstorm happening and Percy’s screaming ‘hey ZEUS! NOT THE FUCKING TIME ASSHOLE!!!!’ lmao

so they get to the hospital right. Poseidon and Athena beat them there and brought their mortal families with them lmao

Everyone’s a mess. Fredrick is about to faint and Helen and Paul are trying to get him to pull it together. Estelle is terrorizing Bobby and Matthew so those three are barely paying attention to the baby situation. Sally and Athena have already threatened five different medical professionals to get Annabeth some drugs. Poseidon is practically fucking vibrating 

While Annabeth is getting all settled in Percy starts calling all their friends to tell them and they are SO OFFENDED that they DARE to be in another state whilst Annabeth is delivering so everyone starts fucking scrambling to get there

Nico and Hazel shadow travel themselves, Frank, Reyna and Piper over. Leo, Calypso, Grover, Chiron, Rachel and Thalia physically wrangle Apollo into driving them there in his chariot. Magnus and Alex had to blackmail Sam to fucking fly them there. everyone else had to fend for themselves. everyone is screaming

just….imagine that fucking waiting room

Artemis did in fact disguise her way onto the delivery team and Percy’s just like….please don’t shoot my wife with an arrow. it’d be awesome if you refrained from doing that,

a nurse tried to tell Thalia that the delivery room was family only and she screamed and knocked her out before running into the room lmao

Grover’s hyperventilating practically the entire time and because of the empathy link Percy’s like dude YOU are freaking ME out so that’s a whole situation 

between all the chaos in the waiting room and all the yelling in the delivery room this maternity wing has literally never been so stressed out before lmao

Annabeth looses all concept of cool and is yelling at the doctor even as she’s pushing

Percy’s hand ends up fractured 

Fredrick is streaming all this on his facebook live and Annabeth is cursing him out whenever the contractions pass

but overall it was a good, safe delivery! no arrows through the chest!

Poseidon, storming into the waiting room, screaming at the top of his godly lungs: IT’S A BOY

everyone in the waiting room:

I don’t feel like coming up with names right now but the middle name IS Charles and NO I am not accepting any dissenting opinions on that

everyone’s crying while they rotate in and out to see them lol

Apollo’s trying to prophecy about how Amazing the kid will be and Percy’s got riptide out and is like ‘he is LITERALLY 3 hours old’ 

Pry This Baby Out Of Sally Jackson’s Arms, I Dare You

after a while the people that had to get there themselves start appearing and making even more of a scene. Like Clarrise just bursts through the doors holding the biggest teddy bear she could find and says absolutely nothing but scowls at everyone who looks at her while she’s holding the baby. the Stolls are fucking climbing in through the window holding a bunch of a balloons. Hedge is making mildly obnoxious jokes. all that

but anyway once they get settled back home and everything. they are the MOST paranoid first time parents lmao

every single little noise this child makes has them on edge. they tiptoe constantly. whom needs sleep

baby doctor on speed dial. “why’d he stop eating???!!?” “…maybe he’s…full?” “…oh.”

but when they’re not busying worrying they have the Cutest Fucking Baby In The World, good for them

Annabeth suddenly realizes taking leave makes sense. her and Percy are like glued to this kid. so many pictures. so many videos. 

once he gets a little older and they have to, like, have Lives again, Percy constantly brings him to the aquarium with him and it’s. CUTE.

the baby LOVES looking at all the fish and petting dolphins omg

okay I’m tired so this is getting away from me but overall I’d see them having like maybe 3 or 4 kids. 

all super cute. all smart. all get up to whacky antics.

add onto this if anyone wants to lol but….iconicly cute parents percy and annabeth thank you goodnight

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XXX

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 30

Word-count: 4k+

A/N: kinda wild that we’re on part 30 guys!! hope you enjoy!!

Everyone has it. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to go to Mexico, save Scott, and come home all in one piece. They weren’t supposed to almost kill Scott, and they sure as hell weren’t supposed to lose you in Mexico.

“Stiles, come on. You have to eat something.” He didn’t need to look up to know that Lydia was looking at him with those big, knowing eyes again. “At least drink something, okay? I’ve got Gatorade.” 

No one can lose it.

The bottle thudded against the table as Lydia set it down. She sighed and sat on the bed, and Stiles could imagine her rolling out her neck as she appraised the latest clippings pinned to the board. 

“The diner is new. What happened there?” she asked, careful to keep her voice even and not to betray how worried she was. Not careful enough, though, because the worry slipped through. 

What is it? 

Stiles didn’t realize she’d gotten up until he felt her hand on his shoulder, jolting him fully out of his memories. “I miss her too,” Lydia said. “We’ll get her back.” 

“You weren’t there, Lydia.” Stiles’ voice felt unfamiliar. It had been a while since he’d used it. “You’ve never had that thing inside you either, okay? It’s a constant battle that you are constantly losing. And I- I did that to her. She was fine to die, but I couldn’t let that happen.” 

A shadow.

“Stiles.” Her voice was gentle as she tried to pry his eyes off the boards and to her. “I wouldn’t have let her die either. We’ll get her back.” 

When? It had been weeks since anyone had seen you.

I’m your shadow, Stiles.

---

If someone asked Stiles why he had driven almost an hour across town to have dinner by himself in a suit that he hated, he wouldn’t know what to tell them. Maybe he was hoping that you’d be there, somehow making the past few weeks into nothing but a bad dream. Maybe he didn’t want to spend another night surrounded by people who insisted it wasn’t his fault. Maybe he just didn’t want to pay another cancellation fee. 

“What do you mean ‘my party’s already been seated?’” Stiles asked the hostess as she led him through the restaurant. “I am my party, and I just got here.” 

“Sir, I-” 

Either she stopped talking or his brain stopped processing everything else except for what was in front of him. Probably the latter, because Stiles was never really good at thinking when you were around. And there you were. Sitting, back to the wall, in a black dress and heels with jewelry far shinier than he’d ever seen you wear, and makeup out of a magazine. You fit in almost perfectly in this place. 

And then his brain started working overtime. Stiles cataloged every bruise and cut littered across your body; judging from the color, some had started to heal and others were newly torn open, some bruises were dime-sized and others looked like someone had choked the- 

“You clean up nicely.” Your voice wasn’t right. None of it was right. “All that snark wrapped up in a nice little suit.” 

“I-” Stiles realized the hostess was still there to get her to leave. Half sitting, half collapsing into the chair across from you, he tried to make a coherent thought. Your smile was sinisterly amused by him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you; we had a date. Remember?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Stiles said. 

He should be doing something. Calling Scott. Getting Derek. Something. He shouldn’t be talking to you. And yet ...

You tilted your head to the side, hand lifting to get a drink of water. “You invited me here, Stiles. You prayed to me, practically begged me to come back,” you said. 

“No, there is no way-” 

“And I missed you.” 

You could have stabbed him with the steak knife on the table and it still would have been less painful than that. “You missed me?”

You leaned forward in your chair and reached a hand out to him. “There were others before you, Stiles, but none of them were like you. Rhys was fine, malleable, but he lacked a certain … darkness.” Your hand was freezing where it touched him, a cruel imitation of how you’d play with his fingers when you were nervous. “And Y/N isn’t right either. It took days before I had the strength to control her, and you know what she did after we left you in Mexico?” 

Stiles didn’t trust himself to speak, but he had to. “What did she do?” 

“She tried to hang us,” you said, voice clearly unimpressed. The bruises on your neck. No one attacked you; you attacked yourself. “She’s lucky I was angry enough to save us. Do you remember when she stabbed us, Stiles? No, she’s got an iron will. It would never work like this.” 

“If it doesn’t work then why are you still here?” Stiles asked. 

“Because your friends tried to kill me, and I want to return the favor.” 

You pulled your hand back and smiled at the waiter that came to take your order. Stiles stared at you as you ordered for the both of you. It was your face, but it didn’t look like you. The nogitsune turned back to him, cold and calculating. 

“Are you jealous?” it asked in your voice. “Tell me, do you miss me, Stiles? Do you miss the power, the control?” 

“No.” 

“Never lie to a liar, Stiles.” You said in a sing-song voice before leaning forward on your elbow, like you were about to tell him a secret. “I miss the games we would play. I miss watching your friends try to decide if they should fight for you or kill us in the street. I miss the way she would protect us, even seconds after trying to kill us herself. Do you remember it, Stiles?” 

Vividly, and the worst part was that he remembered liking it. When he was dead and dying, and you’d step between him and whatever was trying to kill him- 

“Do you remember that night in Derek’s loft when Argent tried to kill us?” Your eyes lit up at the memory. It made Stiles feel sick. “She went up against Argent, the oni, and for a second it even looked like she’d take on Derek for us. Do you think she’d kill him, Stiles? Do you think she’d kill Scott?” He didn’t answer. You leaned back in the chair and sighed. “I wonder exactly how far ‘no matter what’ goes. Don’t you?” 

“Why are you doing this?” Stiles asked. His voice was cracking. He hated it.

“Because I have a head full of new memories, Stiles. I know everything about you, and I know everything about her,” you said. “And now I want to know how much pressure I can put on this until it breaks. Until you break.” 

“If I agreed to go with you right now, would you end this? If I never went back, would you-” 

“I don’t want this version of you,” you said. Another steak knife to the chest. “When I take you back, I want you broken. You tried to kill me, Stiles, and I’m not just gonna let that go.” You stood up and looked at him. You were angry, but anyone looking over would just think you were leaning down to kiss him goodbye. Hovering just next to his ear, you whispered, “I’m going to destroy everything you’ve ever loved, using the hands of the girl you love. And it’s going to be all your fault, Stiles.”

You tapped his arm once, twice, just like you used to, and then disappeared. Probably you just walked out of the building and Stiles was just too much of a coward to follow. Maybe he just had trouble processing it. Either way, the next thing he knew a waiter was trying to set a plate of food in front of him. 

“Could I, uh- Yeah, can I get these to-go?” Stiles asked. “My girlfriend’s not feeling too good.” 

---

Stiles warned everyone that the nogitsune would be making its move soon - he even called Cora and Lahey down in God knows where doing God knows what - but the problem was that he didn’t know what that move would be. When it controlled Stiles, the plan had been to systematically destroy everything that held Beacon Hills together. From the temporary order of the game would come the complete and total disorder of chaos. 

Now he didn’t know the plan. 

Should everyone gather together for safety in numbers or would that just make them an easier target to hit? Should they split up to cover more ground or would the nogitsune pick them off one by one? Stiles didn’t know. 

They tried splitting up. 

It got Lydia hospitalized. 

There was always at least one of them with her while she recovered, but the annual summer fair was today and the nogitsune loved anything that drew a crowd. It had been using you to take out small targets until now, but Stiles could feel it in his bones. Something was going to happen today. 

Something was going to break. 

It happened at sunset. That’s when the Ferris wheel malfunctioned and Liam and Mason were stranded at the top. When the sun completely vanished, more of the games went haywire. Metal went flying, cutting people’s arms and hitting them in the eyes. Any dogs that were brought made a run for it, chasing after something that Stiles couldn’t see. 

Then the power went out and the screaming started. And then he saw you, waving him over to the woods. Stiles tried looking for Scott but he would lose you before he found him.

“This is where it all started, Stiles,” you told him, arms spread wide as you twirled around the underbrush. It would have been cute if you weren’t possessed and sirens weren’t filling the air. “This is where I keep coming back.” 

“What makes you think I care?” Stiles asked. 

You tilted your head at him, stopping any other movement. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re angry. Getting closer to the Stiles I knew with each and every day.” You took deliberate steps closer to him and he took steps back until he hit a tree. “The problem is-” your hand touched the side of his neck, fingers pressing his head into the tree “- I don’t have the patience for more days. I’m not getting any younger, Stiles, and I want to leave this place.” 

Stiles dropped his gaze to your neck. It was a sickly shade of healing bruise yellow, but it was also a reminder that you were still in there. That could take control, even for a moment. 

“Are you even listening to me? Do you even care-” 

One second you had him pressed up against a tree, and the next you were on the ground, fighting off Malia. Stiles wasn’t sure where she came from or where the others were, but he knew that if he didn’t pull her off then she would rip off your face. Even if you locked away in your own body and you might never come back, the need for Stiles to protect you was too strong. 

He was in the process of pulling Malia off when you scrambled back to your feet. You looked ready to bolt but Scott caught you before you could. He caught your arm, twisted it an angle that Stiles was gonna kick his ass for later, and sank his teeth in all in the time it took for Malia to elbow Stiles in the gut. 

Stiles didn’t remember screaming for Scott to stop, but he could hear himself yelling as he struggled back to his feet. To you. 

“Scotty?” Your voice sounded broken and your legs waivered beneath you, and then Scott’s unnatural hold on your arm was the only thing keeping you up. Blood soaked through your shirt where he’d bitten you. “Scotty, I’m sorry- I’m s-” 

You collapsed into a fit of coughing on your hands and knees. When Stiles scrambled over, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you up to look at him, he realized it wasn’t just blood. It was black blood. Black blood coating your mouth. Black blood streaming down your face. Black blood. 

“I love you, Stiles. And I’m so … I’m so sorry.” 

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” Stiles’ voice cracked on the last syllable. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? Listen to me, Y/N-” Your head lolled in his hands “-No matter what. We’ll figure this out, okay? No matter-” 

You collapsed. 

You weren’t breathing. 

The black blood was everywhere. Your hair, your teeth, your clothes. Stiles’ hands. Scott’s shirt when he carried you out of the woods. Underneath Malia’s fingernails. Everywhere. The Jeep’s backseat. Deaton’s stainless steel examining table. Your cold, limp hands. The black blood was everywhere.

---

Stiles wouldn’t let them move you. What were they gonna do - autopsy the girl that had been dead for hours but was still bleeding? Melissa was the only one that agreed with him, but that was probably because she wanted him to stop arguing. 

Turns out he was right not to let them take you to the morgue because somewhere between his 3am coffee break and spilling all over Deaton’s waiting room, you woke up. When he ambled back into the exam room, you were sitting on the table, looking haunted with your legs dangling over the side. 

He stopped dead in his tracks. 

He should call someone. He should call Scott. Deaton was with the dogs in the back. Where was Lydia? He should call Lydia. Stiles called out your name and took some very hesitant steps over. Were you real? The tears in your eyes seemed real. 

The second he touched your skin, something inside you sparked. You looked less haunted and more terrified, and then you had your arms wrapped around his neck. You pulled him close, shaky hands cradling his head. He could feel your heart beating out of your chest. You were saying something. What were you saying? It was hard to tell with all the sobbing. 

The only thing Stiles was sure of was that this was, undeniably, you. 

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Stiles said, using every ounce of willpower he had to pull away from you. You were freezing and all he wanted was to make you warm again. “It’s okay, alright? You’re okay.” 

“No, it’s not!” Your voice was raw. How long had it been since you’d had anything to drink? Stiles couldn’t concentrate. Not with your hands moving up to his face before you pulled your hands back, holding them so tightly to your stomach as you shook your head. “Stiles, I hurt you. I- I almost killed Lydia. And Noah- he- It’s not okay. It’s not okay. It’s not-” 

Stiles was so busy trying to get you to stop wringing out your hands and shaking that he didn’t notice when Deaton came back with Scott. You froze as soon as you heard Scott’s voice, looking haunted again as your eyes drifted over to him. 

“Scotty?” Your hands reached out for him and Scott looked at Deaton for a second before walking over. Your fingers traced his neck. The snap replayed in Stiles’ head as you did. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Scott said. Stiles envied his control in that moment. His calm, smooth alpha voice. “I healed, and so did you. For a second there, I thought you were gonna leave me alone with all this.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t be nice to me. I tried to kill you.” 

“No, you didn’t.” Even. Controlled. The alpha. “That wasn’t you.” 

“Scott-” 

“Could you let Deaton take a look at you? I’ll tell the others that you’re not dead and then … then we’ll go home.” 

“You don’t understand,” you said. “Scott, I- I hurt you. All of you. I can’t take any of that back. I can’t go home.” 

“You are home,” Scott said. 

Stiles noticed the strain between his eyes and suddenly he didn’t envy him anymore; being the alpha meant he couldn’t be anything else. But somehow Scott managed to get you calm enough for Deaton to take a look at you, and he went to call everyone while Stiles stayed with you. 

You didn’t seem to mind the poking and prodding, but every time Deaton set a tool down or Scott’s phone wrang, you flinched. The noise and the light bothered you more than it should, reminding Stiles of just after the three of you sacrificed yourselves for your parents. 

The nerves ate away at his stomach lining until the exam was over and everyone was filling up Deaton’s back room. 

You were sandwiched between Scott and Melissa. Liam and Mason were huddled in the corner. Malia, Derek, and Braeden were standing off to the side. Stiles’ dad stood next to him, trying to keep him from unraveling. Argent was in the doorway. Lydia and Kira were holding hands next to him. Deaton had to maneuver around the uncomfortably full room to find a place to stand. 

“So, Doc-” you said with a shaky breath. Melissa’s grip on your hand tightened but you didn’t seem to notice. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘umbra tetigit’?” Deaton asked. 

You shook your head and Deaton was ready to keep talking when Lydia spoke. Stiles couldn’t tell if she was frowning due to exhaustion or confusion. “Shadow touched?” 

“Exactly,” Deaton smiled at her before continuing. “When a person has an immense darkness around their heart, it tends to open doorways that sometimes can’t ever be closed.” As he explained, he laid out tongue depressors next to you. You stared down at them, Stiles stared at you. “Now, you’ve managed to close some of them, but the stress of being possessed-” he picked one of the tongue depressors up and snapped it “-tore some of them open again.” 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Then Scott bit me and you- you said my heart stopped?” 

“Some doorways only lead in one direction,” he said as he turned some of the tongue depressors. “Others are more fluid. So when Scott bit you, your doorways started slamming shut. Not everyone is capable of unlocking those doors to get back.” 

“But, um - and correct me if I’m wrong - I’m still alive,” you said, making it sound like a question. Maybe it was a question and Stiles just didn’t notice because he was too busy noticing how tight you were holding onto the sides of the table. 

“Technically speaking,” Deaton nodded. “Because you were undisturbed for so many hours, that time allowed you to do something special. You managed to pry open those broken doorways-” he moved the snapped depressors slightly apart to allow for a small path to trickle through “-and claw your way back through. That kind of determination is … one in a million.” 

“Kind of like the determination to become an alpha without killing anyone?” you asked, only lifting your head from the table to steal a look at Scott. 

Scott had been unusually quiet since calming you down when you woke up, but he gave you a small smile when you looked at him. 

“Exactly like that kind of determination,” Deaton said, drawing your attention back to him.

Then you looked down at your hands, and Stiles knew that you didn’t know what to do next. 

“But it’s not like she's the only shadow-touched person out there, is she?” Stiles said, trying to take the heat off you. “Like Scott’s not the only true alpha to ever walk the earth, right?”

“No,” Deaton said, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “But shadow-touched creatures come in many different forms. Werewolves, wendigos, banshees - to name a few.” He took a pause and Stiles’ eyes flicked to Lydia’s for a second. “That being said, every shadow creature is created by an event that allows their minds to be more fluid. In your case, it was a confluence of events. The sacrifice, the nogitsune, the bite.” 

“Meaning what?” you asked.

“Meaning that even if you found another shadow wolf, they wouldn’t be like you,” Deaton explained. “Not in the way that Scott is like Liam or that Meredith is like Lydia; they share the same base design - if you will - even though they have special talents.” 

“So, what, it’s like luck of the draw?” you asked, pushing yourself off the counter. The room went an eerie sort of still and Stiles wasn’t sure what to do. “You’re telling me that you only have a hazy idea of what’s going on with me, and now it comes down to how lucky I am?” 

You were almost never this angry when it wasn’t about someone you love. There was something unsettling in your voice and your eyes. 

“There are tests that we can do to find out where your strengths lie, to see how similar you might be to the werewolf base design,” Deaton explained. His resolve to stay unafraid of you only made you more mad, which only made Stiles more confused. “Like that. Scott’s eyes go red when he’s upset, Liam’s go yellow. Yours turn black.” 

You blinked a few times and leaned back into the table, seemingly out of it again. Stiles rushed forward to help you stand. Until now, you’d pushed him away almost any time he reached out for you, but this time you held onto his arms until you were steady enough to sit on the table again. 

You put a hand to your temple, trying to get yourself to focus. You took a deep breath and looked back up at him. “Thanks.”

“You have heightened sensitivities,” Deaton said. “It’s going to take some time to learn to control them.” 

“I’ve gotten pretty good with the-” you gestured vaguely around your head as you spoke. Stiles had to let go of you, but he didn’t want to. “Overloads. They’ve been happening since the sacrifice. I just need … a few seconds.” 

The seconds went past and Stiles was acutely aware of all the eyes in the room, all looking at you or sharing looks with the person next to them. He wondered if it was driving you crazy as well. 

“I’m really hungry,” you said eventually when you opened your eyes again. The room let out a collective breath, and Melissa even managed to laugh. 

“We can do something about that!” Scott said. He sounded relieved to be able to do something. “Lydia and I will make a food run. Burgers? Pizza?” 

You shook your head, still looking overwhelmed. “Whatever’s closest.” 

“Got it,” he said. He smiled at you before heading out with Lydia, Kira awkwardly following out behind them. 

Argent nodded his head to the front and your mom and Stiles’ dad followed him out. Stiles moved out of the way for you to have a moment with the Hales and Braeden, but then it was just you and Stiles. And a very heavy silence. 

“I’m sorry for … not understanding,” you said after a minute of Stiles’ head exploding. He didn’t know what to say, but luckily you started talking again so he didn’t have to. “I thought I understood what it was like for you, but all the things I said …” You shook your head. “I’m sorry you went through all that by yourself.” 

“I wasn’t by myself,” Stiles said. He started reaching for your hand but stopped, unsure. “I had you, and you’ve got me. No matter what, remember?” 

You bit your lip as you reached out your hand, stopping before you touched his hand. Then you shook your head and grabbed Stiles’ hand. “No matter what.”

I wonder how far ‘no matter what’ goes.

Part 31

[dragonsaphirareads]

Colliding Worlds

Day 15 of @tsshipmonth2020 Fluffuary

Ship: Dukexiety

AU: Siren/Sailor

Word Count: 1939

Summary: Remus had never liked staying still. He was restless, and sailing on the ocean was a decent reprieve, but sometimes it just became too much.

(Like listening to podfics? You can listen to this oneshot on my YT channel here!)

Remus stood on the bow of the ship, feeling the ocean breeze tug at his hair, salt stinging his skin. He hung from a rope with one hand, trying to get as close to the water as he could without falling in.

So close, he could almost hear the waves crashing against the side of the hull. Since he was born, Remus had been hard of hearing. Everything was garbled and muted, like his ears were constantly full of water. But being on the ocean, there was a clarity he could never get while on land.

He’d grown up in a landlocked little village with his mother and twin brother. The biggest mass of water he’d seen as a child were the puddles on the dirt road after a heavy rain. So when they traveled to a port town when Remus was fourteen, the sheer size of the ocean had simultaneously excited and terrified him.

And that night they were scheduled to go back home, Remus left a note on his pillow and ran off to join the crew of whatever ship would take him.

He had been a stowaway at first, hiding in the cargo hold and simply letting the rocking of the boat lull his heartbeat into a steady rhythm. Sometimes he was caught and put to work, often with a beating as well, but Remus didn’t care. As long as he was on the sea, he would do what he needed to do.

Remus sighed, pulling himself up with the rope to climb the mast. He was eighteen now, though time passed differently on the water. For the last two years, he’d been sailing on The Dragon Witch, a trading ship captained by a man who called himself Deceit. He was a stern captain, but he appreciated Remus’s love for the sea and his willingness to do the jobs other sailors might not.

He had a little time before his shift started, so he unofficially appointed himself as a lookout until he needed to leave. He took a seat on a beam high above the deck, watching the water sparkle below him.

Then he heard a sound carrying over the water, clearer than anything else ever was. There was only one thing that he could hear that easily, and he immediately grabbed the rope to swing down onto the main deck, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“SIREN!”

The call stopped everyone in their tracks for a moment before the call was repeated, echoed by dozens of voices as those on deck scrambled for wax to fill their ears and evade the enchantment of the siren’s song.

Remus ran along, into the cabins to warn everyone on the ship to plug their ears. Then he burst into the captain’s quarters, startling Deceit who had been pondering over a book of accounts.

“Siren, captain! Straight ahead!” Remus reported, and Deceit swore loudly, slamming his desk.

“Damn it! We’re coming up on difficult terrain, I need everyone at full capacity!”

Remus shrugged. “I’m just the messenger!”

Deceit sighed. “I know. Alright, come with me, I’ll need you at the ready.” He scooped a small amount of wax from a pot in his desk drawer, hanging a glob of it to Remus as he passed him.

The teenager followed him, splitting the wax into two pieces and rolling them between his fingers, fiddling with it for as long as he could. He hated the wax, it deafened the one sound that was so clear to him and it felt gross as well.

Not to mention, siren song didn’t actually affect him. He didn’t know why, but he knew from one of the first times he stowed away on a ship. A siren had been sighted in their path, but there was of course no wax to be found deep in the cargo hold. He’d been captivated, yes, but in the way one might admire a particularly good performer. Never once had a siren song put him under a spell, like the stories told.

If he didn’t put the wax in, the other sailors would shout at him. But he needed to be able to hear Deceit’s orders, so he might have accidently dropped the pieces of wax as he ran after the captain up to the main deck.

If Deceit noticed, he didn’t say anything. The captain moved swiftly to the railing, looking out at their path with a narrowed gaze. Remus followed closely behind, letting the siren song crash into him like the waves. There was something different about it, compared to what he remembered from years ago. The song had a different... intent behind it, that was the only way he could explain it.

“Captain, I don’t think the siren is trying to crash us--”

“Well it’s going to if it doesn’t stop!” Deceit shouted back, waving him off. Remus sneered at the back of his head, huffing angrily.

“It’s not trying to lure us in!”

Deceit spun on his heel, getting in Remus’s face. “And how do you know? Do you speak siren now?!”

“I...!” Remus bit his tongue, shutting his mouth tightly. Even though he knew the captain usually liked him, he shouldn’t push his luck. Especially in a high stakes situation like this. Even if the siren wasn’t trying to lure then, most people would be enchanted by the song regardless.

Deceit pushed past him, the crew members looking up at the figure in black as he waved a series of hand gestures, indicating the sail position he wanted to steer them through the rocky banks they were approaching.

Remus backed away quietly, behind a stack of equipment to temporarily be hidden from view. The siren was still singing, and it was louder than ever. It was awakening something in him, that feeling he’d had since before he could remember. The wanderlust that had been dormant until this moment was raging like a heavy storm, and it was all he could do to not throw himself overboard right there.

Why was the song affecting him like this? Years ago, when the song had been calling to lure in food for the creature, there had been no reaction. It hadn’t been muffled by the hull of the ship, so he knew it couldn’t be that.

But this call was different. The siren wasn’t singing to attract food, it was singing to attract a mate.

Remus shook his head harshly, hitting his temples with his palms. Where did that come from?! How could he possibly know that?! And why, if that was true, would he be reacting to it?!

The pull was only getting stronger, and Remus knew he couldn’t hold on anymore. He put his boot up on the railing, standing tall and letting the breeze rush past him.

“Remus! What are you doing?!” From a distance, he heard Deceit’s stern voice calling after him, but it was too late. Remus let himself tip forward and fall from the side of the ship, hitting the water with a huge splash.

Almost immediately he could feel a burning sensation start in his toes, spreading up his legs and into his torso until his whole body was on fire.

He tried to suck in a breath and choked as water flowed into his lungs. He tried to cough harder, but it only made the problem worse. His vision was blurred and dimming around the edges from the pain.

Until suddenly, he could breathe again. Remus blinked, gasping in gulps and holding his hand against his burning chest. The teenager looked down and forgot how to take another breath.

Where his legs had just been, there was now a dark forest green tail, long and curling around itself loosely in the water. Lifting his soaked shirt, he saw his skin had gained a hard finish, almost like armor. Reaching up to his neck, he felt gills against his fingertips, and when he ran his tongue across his teeth he could feel that they had sharpened into little knife blades.

He was... a siren... but how?

It was then that Remus remembered a story his mother had told him as a child. One about his great-grandfather, who had fallen in love with a siren and eventually married her. How they had three children - one fully human, one a siren, and one that rested somewhere in between.

And about how his mother - and by extension, him and his brother - were descendants of that in between child. Born both of land and sea, torn between two worlds.

Well, with this, Remus had chosen his side. And he found that he didn’t regret it in the slightest.

As he looked around, he realized that he could still clearly hear the song, though it sounded more nuanced than it had before. He could hear notes echoing through the water, resonating through his body in a way that they hadn’t been before.

Remus grinned, baring his teeth as he took off towards the source of the song, his tail propelling him through the water faster than the ship. In only a few moments he was approaching the rocky shore of a small island, and the siren perched on one of the boulders on the beach.

His skin was pale, a contrast to his dark purple and black tail. It was almost metallic, with how it glittered in the afternoon sun.

Remus breached the water and the song washed over him. On instinct, he opened his mouth and let his own melody join the other siren.

They sang together for several minutes, harmonizing in twisting, haunting melodies before the song faded away, and finally the other siren turned around and Remus saw he had the most piercing gray eyes he’d ever seen.

“Beautiful...” Remus breathed, and the other siren blinked.

“You’re... you’re not...”

Remus pulled himself forward slightly, grinning. “Not what? A siren? Cause I think I am! I’m not sure though, this is all pretty new to me. I mean, just ten minutes ago I thought I was still human!”

“Did you... come from that ship?” The siren asked, moving away from Remus cautiously when Remus nodded.

“Yup! I heard your singing and I warned everyone! Siren song doesn’t normally affect me but this time it did, and when I jumped in the water I turned into this!”

The other blinked, then he covered his mouth and started shaking. Remus worried he was going to run away - swim away? - until he heard him draw in a breath and realized that the siren was laughing at him!

“You’re insane! No way that’s true!”

“Why are you laughing?! I’m telling the honest truth!” Remus insisted, but that only seemed to make him laugh harder.

“Because I was singing to find a mate! That means you completely changed species and threw away your entire life because you got horny!”

Remus only took a moment to process that, flashing him a cheeky grin. “I’ve done crazier things when I’ve gotten horny!”

That just made the siren snort, and Remus joined him in laughter.

“I’m Remus, by the way!”

The other siren continued to giggle, looking up at Remus with those gorgeous gray eyes. “Virgil.”

“So, Virgil, I’m new at this... since we sang together, does that mean we’re married now?”

Virgil threw a pebble at him, hitting him square in the forehead.

“Definitely not!”

Remus pouted, snapping his fingers. “Darn. Well then, mind teaching me where I went wrong?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, moving to enter the water. “Let’s see if you can keep up first, before you start courting me.”

“You’re on!”

[mychemicalficrecs]

long fics with gerard/frank and mikey/ray?

Try these!

Frank/Gerard and Ray/Mikey Longfics

Catching Pieces of a Fallen Sky by snarkydame, 21k, Mature. Ray and Frank are the only survivors of the Jersey Queen, an independent freighter hit by (space!) pirates. In the chaos, the doomed ship took a blind jump through the hyperways, leaving them stranded in a dark and lonely quadrant of space. Mikey and Gerard are the last remaining crew of a legendary "ghost" ship, the Ravenkroft, which has been lost for the fifty years since the War that Broke the Stations. They've been avoiding inhabited space due to emotional scarring from the loss of their crew, and a feeling of isolation due to the fact that they are in fact cyborgs. They pick up Ray and Frank's escape pod, and promise to help them. In the process, old feeling of guilt are assuaged, new emotional ties are wrought, and the legendary ship comes home.

Unholyverse by Bexless, 187k, Mature, Explicit. Religion! Horror! Exorcisms! Piercings! And Gerard is a priest.

Time Travel 'verse by ladyfoxxx, 79k, Explicit. In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

L For Lucky (M for Mine) by orphan_account, 42k, Explicit. “Yeah, look.” Mikey turns his head to peer at the crowd over his shoulder. “This is going to seem weird, but.” He stares behind him and seems, for a moment, at a loss for words. “Well, there’s no tasteful way to say it.” Mikey looks Ray in the eye and just shrugs. “This is a highly organized sexual gathering for very specifically kinky people.” Ray feels a bit of spittle lodge in his throat and tries his best not to sputter when he disagrees, “That’s actually a pretty tasteful description of an orgy.”

Pizza 'verse by ladyfoxxx, 29k, Explicit. The AU where they all work at Brian's pizza store.

Should we kill him? by rarepairqueen, 56k, Explicit. Gerard, Mikey, Ray and Bob have been thrown into the lives of hitmen. Killing people for profit at the hands of a higher power. With no way out of contract killings, what'll happen when they have to kill a misunderstood school boy by the name of Frank?

The Fall and Rise of The Black Parade by wordslinging, 53k, Mature. “I used to think this was Hell. I mean, I always figured that’s where I was headed, if there was any afterlife. And then when I got here…there were no lakes of fire, or anything, but I was stuck on my own in a place where nothing grows or changes, so I figured, okay, Hell’s just a little different than I always thought it would be. But then, after a while…it wasn’t so bad. I found a place where I could kind of belong, and I met Toro and Brian and Bob and Mikey…and you. And I figure…if I was in Hell, falling in love shouldn’t really be in the cards, should it? So after that, I started thinking—okay, maybe this place isn’t anything I ever heard about in school or church. But then again, maybe it is. Maybe this is Purgatory. And I always had the idea that Purgatory was kind of like prison, y’know, you gotta serve your sentence and the only thing that’s gonna get you out quicker is good behavior or having friends in high places. But maybe—maybe you don’t have to just sit around waiting for someone to tell you your sentence is up. Maybe Purgatory ends when you get yourself out of it.”

Tattered And Torn by partyghoul, 131k, Explicit. Known as the scapegoat to the majority of the school, Gerard was always the loner. He was the kid who never got invited to parties, the one no one ever talked to, the one who was never given the chance to socialize. Between sneering peers and a malicious teacher, he learned to blend into the background and accept his fate as an outsider. He had given up hope on ever finding a friend... until Frank came along, changing both their lives, forever.

Across The Lines by iamdali, 67k, Mature. A summer to change everything. Frank Iero is just trying to get out of high school alive when a boy from across the lines makes him question himself, his beliefs and test just how far he’s willing to go in order to be who he wants to be. Gerard Way is home for the most important summer of his life. He’s going to build bridges with his younger brother, help out an elderly neighbour and meet a boy from across the lines.

Pan Verse by Roxy_palace, 42k, Explicit. "Second street on the left, and straight on till Mornington Crescent. Tell them Pete sent you."

Desecrated Kids by wellthisisprettyrisque (collettephinz), 144k, Explicit. Everyone moves into a new town and thinks it's strange. Stepping out of the car with a weird feeling tingling down the back of your neck isn't actually that unheard of, but finding that unmarked grave in the woods behind your house is. Frank Iero wonders if his mother moved him here so he'd disappear off the face of the planet, or if she actually wants the body to be found. All he knows is that this town has some horrible things happening to it, and no one seems to care enough to lift their heads and actually see. He has no idea what's going on, and is one of the few people that wants to find out. Luckily, Gerard is a few steps ahead of him.

We Are Literally the Kids From Yesterday by romanticizingchemicals, 21k, Mature. Frank Iero's the new kid at school, and basically, we have some pretty awesome relationships going on. You want Rikey? You got Rikey. You want Peterick? You go for it, you animal.

When Both Our Cars Collide by SeraphStarshine, 95k, Mature. Gerard is barely surviving until a new neighbor moves in next door, and for the first time in ages, Gerard finds himself with a friend that isn't his little brother. Gerard never imagined that one beautiful boy could change everything for him, but he can't ignore the way Frank makes him feel, or the improvements he has seen in himself. Gerard is aware that he is falling in love with Frank even though he knows it is wrong...he is seventeen while Frank is only thirteen. But he can't deny his feelings no matter the consequences.

As Fun as Homework Can Be by gerardwaytops, 62k, Explicit. Gerard is fresh out of university and is plunged straight into the world of work as a teacher at his brother's high school. He loves his job, but can he resist the temptation of the hot student that he sees most days?

You’re The Only Hope For Me by rc0ncan, 40k, Mature. "You can't imprint on a human!" "Watch me" In Frank's simple world, things like werewolves and vampires only existed in high budget Hollywood films using overpaid actors. Living in the small Jersey town of Belleville, Frank lived a comfortable life. He manages the small diner left to him from his grandparents and attends church every Sunday. He is constantly dodging set up attempts from the little old ladies that frequent his diner or in his congregation. Frank thought the craziest thing he would ever see in this sleepy town was Mrs. Yamaguchi throwing her husbands clothes out the second story window when she caught him cheating. But that would all change when he meets the gorgeous and mysterious Gerard Way.

I didn't want this... until I met you. by Nixy_x, 90k, Explicit. Gerard hated being the most wanted Omega at school, he was fed up with it all. There was nothing special about him he just wanted the Alphas to leave him alone. He didn't want this... But when a new Alpha starts school and turns his whole world upside down he starts thinking that maybe he does want it after all...

A Series Of Hauntings by Anonymous, 89k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard lives in a lighthouse by Dead Man's Point. He spends his time talking to the seagulls, and painting his prophetic visions. He's seen his fair share of strange things, but when Frank Iero jumps off the cliff's edge, Gerard will do anything just to bring him back. Anything.

The Lights You Make by Honestmouse, 172k, Teen And Up Audiences. It's been a year since Ghoul literally stumbled onto Kobra and Party's door step. The trio have become close in that time though just recently having begun to call themselves a crew. Ghoul and Party are helplessly attracted to each other, though for some reason denying it. And Kobra? Well he's just himself. A little lonely but soon he has something, or someone, to take his mind off of it. That person however is not exactly in the best uh shape to help Kobra as he watches his brother and best friend ignore their feelings towards each other. Also: who the hell decided it’d be a good idea to give them a baby?

[completeotometrash]

Matchup

@i-sleep-like-napoleon

I'm a female on the libra-scorpio cusp and a Slytherin, I'm kind of a mix of ENFP and INFP. Appearance-wise, I'm 5'2, i've brown eyes and caramel brown hair. I also wear glasses and I'm also quite tanned from being out in the sun all the time. Personality-wise: - I can be really enthusiastic about stuff I'm really interested in, such as history (especially world war history), sciences (but physics is trash to me) and anime (I'm a closet nerd hehe) . - I can be really ambitious and competitive, and I would sometimes place unrealistic expectations on myself, leaving me mentally exhausted and stressed, but like i place these unrealistic measures on myself to strive to be the best - I do try to chill and take it slow, but you know, sometimes i just can't 😅 - I'm quite an open book to all my close friends - I also tend to be really possessive, like I dont like people purposely trying to steal my friends (it happened a lot of times before) and i hate it when someone randomly butts into a conversation i'm having with anyone, especially if it's a deep conversation - I can be really awkward around people i don't click with, but around people i click with, i can be pretty wild and will be able to hold conversations with. - I tend to procrastinate a lot, and people say i look intimidating but i don't feel like I'm intimidating. - I can be really sensitive to other's emotions and i tend to put others before me, so like my close friend always told me that i'm too much of a giver, like I try to please everyone else and ignore myself - My love languages are physical touch and quality time - I can't stand people who are attention seekers or just aim to be public nuisances as i feel that they're just really irritating and it gets on my nerves, especially those people who are just doing stupid things to be popular (which is lowkey why i think tiktoks dances are dumb, like seriously i dont get the hype, but i do like tiktok meme videos tho) - I listen to a lot of different genres of music, but i especially love classics (mozart and chopin are my favourites) and pop. - I can really insecure at times, because i always feel that every other girl out there is better than me and i'm just a plain and ugly, and partially because i got bullied when i was younger about my appearance - I like dressing up and putting on makeup occassionally, but i do act like a tomboy most of the time (ie. I hate skirts, like i really dont like them and i have no idea why, but jeans are supreme). - I also love playing the piano and singing as well, even though i'm not that good at it :D - People tell me that I'm very curious and persistent, constantly pushing until i get answers, but i do know my limits. - I'm also very passionate about things I love, and i would do anything to protect people that i care and love. - I'm also very affectionate and supportive towards my close friends and people i love. - I do have trust issues and I often feel like i do not deserve love and that I hate people who betray my trust. - I'm ok with pda, but not anything overly affectionate, like hand-holding and kissing is ok, but not making out 😳😖 - I also tend to be pretty forgettful, and i'll not eat for hours to get my work on hand done (whoop pretty unhealthy but :0) - I'm also really sarcastic when i want to be, and i can't hold a poker face to save my life (i swear i always start laughing like 2 seconds in) and I tend to sass people a lot, especially if I've had a bad day - I'm also pretty fiesty and I hate people stereotyping me for my gender (i.e like when someone says that "oh you're pretty good for a girl") like what does my gender have to do with my ability? Like there is zero correlation - My sense of humour is kind of twisted at times but i really love memes and i tend to crack inappropriate jokes sometimes - I've been told that i come across as really flirty to some guys but it's because i can be really touchy feely to my friends - I'm also quick to anger, especially if i have a bad day, i hate people who nag and i hate people who put down others- I'm kind of touch-starved, so i really like hugs and cuddles, but I'm also ticklish so my friends tend to tickle me when hugging me - I can be a daydreamer at times, like I would get stuck in my own fantasy world when i shouldn't 😂😂 - I'm also a drama queen around my friends, I dont have a lot of them in real life because of some rumours that others spread, so i only have a close circle of friends i really treasure and would do anything for them - I also tend to bottle up all my anger and negative thoughts, and would sometimes like explode on others even though I don't mean to - Sometimes I don't really think before I say or act, which is why sometimes I can come off as a bit rude or unfeeling but it's just me and my impulsiveness 🤪 Fun Facts: - i really love food, especially sweets (dark chocolate and dango is my life) - i really hate horror movies (I'm usually pretty brave, but horror movies just get to me so much ergh) but i love chick flicks and adventure flims - I'm also a hopeless romantic, which is why even little romantic gestures can make my heart flutter - My hobbies are reading, writing and shooting (only air-rifle though) - I used to be pretty athletic, I still am, but to a lesser extend now, because i injured my left knee playing volleyball in the past. It's on it's road to recovery, but it still hurts quite badly when i overexert myself. - I love artic foxes and cats, dogs are too energetic for me 😅 - I'm also a sneaker hoarder and I love collecting and wearing sneakers hehe, heels are like torture devices for the feet i dont care even if they make me taller - Coffee over tea anyday, no offense to peoples who like tea, but a fresh cup of brewed coffee is one of the best things in the world 😚 - I'm really terrible at drawing, I'm not gonna kid you. When i was younger, my art teacher threatened to fail me because im really terrible at drawing. 😂 - I'm also very injury-prone and a bit clumsy, which caused me to have bruises occasionally - I'm kinda bad and math and physics, but like if you take your time to explain to me then I'll understand a bit more lol, my best subject is like chemistry

...........

Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy.

Although I was deeply torn between another character, I believe the suitor you’d be best with is: Sasuke Sarutobi!

I honestly feel like a relationship between you two would be like an, “opposites attract,” type of deal. But despite this, you two still would share a lot of common interests! Unlike all of the other guys, he understands you. He was born and raised in the same time period as you! He knows everything a normal person would from the 2000′s, he’s watched movies, listened to similar music, enjoyed memes, and understands references! Sasuke has made it very clear that he too, is quite the history guru. His former job in modern times was being a scientist. (Although it was never mentioned, I strongly feel like he enjoyed anime before he was sent back in time.) And he loves to not only learn, but teach what he knows! You two have a relationship unlike any other, which is a truly special thing. If there would ever be a time where you want to rant or discuss anything about the future, he would gladly listen!

Sasuke is not very good with his emotions, and is very stoic and self-kept. Seeing you and your expressions and how different you two are is pretty refreshing to him. He doesn’t find you intimidating whatsoever! (More adorable than anything). If you were ever frustrated at him or the world, he knows how to take it without making things worse, (most of the time). Always stays calm and has no problem being the first to apologize. He listens to how you feel and gives his best advice. Rare of you to ever get mad at him, he’s a pretty chill person that doesn’t seek attention or act like they’re better than anyone. He’s not too sure how to help you with your insecurities. Shows his love through actions rather than words, but still gives the nice occasional compliment on how you look or on your personality. (He truly does love you, thinks of you as being better than perfect.) He doesn’t mind that you’re the same way. Also isn’t bothered by you being possessive at all. (Doesn’t really talk to girls other than you unless he has to.)

Loves going and doing things with you. Whether if it’s walking around town or playing games in the castle! (Thinks you being competitive is adorable!) Understands if you just want to stay home and relax. He’s very introverted and doesn’t really understand social ques, so just being alone with you is something he would take any day.

Although he doesn’t show it, he loves pampering you! Enjoys cuddles as well. (Everyone seems to discuss on how he and his s/o would recreate the upside-down Spiderman kiss.) Will just randomly pull up romantic movie or TV show lines, and vines. A secret softy! (But only for you).

Overall, I think this would be a really healthy relationship! Only problem being how bad he is at expressing himself. (Which can be fixed over time.)

Other Possible matches: Masamune Date (almost picked this one tbh), Mitsunari Ishida, and Kennyo.. (Fuck I can’t remember his last name. Someone please educate me.)

[cela-astral-projection]

I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

18+ under the cut, I guess. Nothing really happens. An abundance of caution. 

Muriel pushed the door open from the bedroom, still exhausted. It was evening, and he'd been in and out of sleep most of the day. Demanding solitude.

He would do this from time to time. Asra and Celeste took turns, being close at hand, but allowing him his space. This had been a particularly rough patch. They were patient with him. They didn't demand anything. They were simply available to him, willing to cater to his every whim. He just wouldn't ask for anything, buried deep in himself.

Generally, these spells would last a few days. But this was going on far longer than usual, and it had taken a turn towards the frightening. He looked gaunt. Paler. Sickly. On such a big man, it was very striking. He barely ate, and when he did, it was simply fistfuls of the candies and sweets he managed to grab and hide in the darkened bedroom, leaving a rat's nest of jewel-toned wrapping wadded up on the bedside table.

Asra had dealings in town that he simply could not put off another day, so she had been left in charge. It was a simple enough task if emotionally taxing, seeing the one they loved in such pain.

She kept herself busy, cleaning, cooking, keeping Inanna occupied so she didn't tear the bedroom door apart trying to get to him. Feeding the chickens. Hell, she'd even chopped wood, which was a task that usually sent Asra and Muriel running from the house after her, not entirely confident in her abilities to wield a giant ax, to her annoyance. She had managed to get away unscathed, she was proud to say.

The Muriel situation had come to a point where simply letting him be was untenable. She had to try something, but it had to be subtle enough to not spook him. Like coaxing a stray cat with cream.

She sat at the dinner table, alone, reading. She knew how to build one hell of a fire, that was for certain. She hadn't quite figured out moderation when it came to that. The room was much too warm, so she had opened a window, cool air pouring in to even out the intense heat from the fireplace.

At Muriel's seat, there was a large bowl, steaming. A thick piece of bread on a plate at its side.  In the center of the table, a beautiful golden pie, with deep red juices seeping out from cracks in the flaky crust. His stomach growled.

She looked up at him over the top of her book, smiling.

"It's hot." He said, low, eyes fixed on the pie. He was salivating.

"I know. Sorry. It's better over here by the window." She replied, quiet. "Come sit with me. I'm lonely."

He sighed, torn. He just wanted to go back to bed. But he was so, very hungry. "I'm...just tired." He did start across the room. Short, cautious steps.

"I know you are," she said, with a nod. Her eyes were soft, as was her tone.  She closed her book and laid it down. "I made dinner for you."

It smelled incredible. Everything. The yeasty, sweet-smelling fresh bread. The rich, garlicky, herbaceous broth in the bowl. The scents were overwhelming. He hadn't felt such hunger pangs since he was small.

But, his attention was fully on the dessert. He was a sucker for anything sweet. She knew some of it was that the sugar gave him temporary relief. Comfort. But it didn't last. It wasn't sustainable. He would ride the high for an hour or so, especially now that he wasn't eating normally, then crash.

"I'll...just take a slice of that and go back to bed." He said, short, moving to the cupboard to grab a plate.

"Oh...no, sorry. It's still cooling. I got started on it late. It's still too hot. I want it to cut well." she replied, standing. Apologetic. "Please, you can have as much as you want once it's good and cool. You'll like it better, I promise. I spent all that time pitting the cherries...I just want it to be right."

He pulled a face. "How long?"

"It's hard to say. It's really warm in here. If I move it to the windowsill, maybe an hour or so? Can you wait that long?" She leaned across the table to collect the pie plate. She was wearing a sheer, loose tunic. When she bent, he could see straight down her shirt. Heavy breasts hanging. She looked up at him, biting her lip.

"I'll...wait." he nodded, swallowing hard. He was starving. Absolutely famished. In more ways than one.

She collected the plate and righted herself, crossing to the window and making sure the plate was seated securely. Her bargaining chip. It seemed to be working.

He sat heavily in his chair, hands folded between his knees, not looking at her. She watched him for a long moment. Come on. Eat it. Her mind pleaded, trying to reach him. But, he didn’t move. 

She sighed, and grabbed her chair, pulling it around to his side of the table, sitting in front of him. He straightened and turned, startling. She caught his wrist. "You're tired. Let me take care of you, okay?" she pleaded, staring straight in his eyes. Not a suggestion. A requirement.

He tensed. "I don't need you to take care of me," he said, pressing his lips into a line.

"I need to take care of you. It's my problem...Indulge me." she countered, squeezing his wrist affectionately before releasing it, the corner of her mouth turning up.

He huffed. "Celeste..." he whispered, frustrated, exhausted. Too tired to argue.

She turned to the table and picked up a spoon, dipping it into the soup. She had taken care that it would be nourishing, but not too rich. She wasn't sure if he could handle anything too heavy at this point. More flavor than substance. She brought the spoon to her lips and blew cool breath across the surface, and then to his mouth.

He didn't open his lips. An eyebrow raised, annoyed. She mirrored his face, not relenting. He rolled his eyes and allowed her to proceed, and she pushed the spoon in.

His eyes fluttered closed, and he relaxed. It was warm, smooth. Coating his tongue.  Bone broth, butter, vegetables, garlic, herbs. It was creamy, fatty, but still thin. It flowed down his throat.

"Is it okay?" she asked, studying his face.

He made a quiet noise of approval. "Everything you make is good," he said after a moment.

She took another spoonful and repeated the process. He took it, a bit more eager. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you like it."

They sat like that for a long while, until the bowl was mostly drained. They went slow, her constantly checking in. Making sure that it wasn't too much, too soon.

She broke the bread in her hands and raked it through the liquid that clung to the bowl, bringing small bites to his lips. She ran one hand over his stomach, soothing circles.

When the food was gone, he opened his eyes. Celeste, smiling up at him.

"Is there more?" He said, looking over at the empty bowl.

"If you want it, of course." She said, sweet.

"What about you?" he asked. Another of his hangups. Scarcity. The illusion that there wasn't enough. From years of there not being enough. For making sure that Asra was taken care of before himself. The days when his stomach felt like it was eating itself. Stolen food. Threats on all sides. Food as payment for services rendered.

"There is enough. There will always be enough," She said, raising her hand to cup his cheek in her hand, running her thumb back and forth, looking in his eyes. "Asra is coming home with more food in the morning. Take whatever you need. There will always be more."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Celeste's, breathing deeply.

She ran her hand into his hair. It was lank, greasy. Too long. She had always liked long hair on him, but as Asra had once told her, equally disappointed, "He looks like the Scourge of the South. He doesn't like letting his hair get that long anymore. Too bad for us...It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?"

He smelled musty. Like old sweat. It was a smell that came often on her impoverished patients. Those suffering from mental illnesses. Unwashed. Stale. She hated it on him. But, her face didn't betray her. Years of training had hardened her against that. There was no excuse to make someone feel less than, or unclean.

She kissed him. Soft, sweet. Unafraid. He pressed his lip against hers. Still weak. Still tired.

He wanted her. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to eat.

After a while of sitting quietly, she moved to stand, preparing him another bowl. She sat it on the table, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Eat this for me. I need to boil some water and change the bed."

He nodded, turning towards his meal, eating in silence. She set to her task, putting on a pot to boil, then going to the bedroom, looking over her shoulder when she got to the door, biting her lip. He still worried her, but at least it was some progress.

She made quick work of the bedroom, stripping the bed, throwing a couple clean blankets down. She cast a spell to dispel the gloom and grime that clung to every surface. She cleared away the discarded trash that he left on the bedside tables and gave everything a once over. She looked around. This felt better. Cleaner.  Good enough. She could do more, later. She grabbed the washbasin from the dresser, and a soft cloth and fragrant, luxurious soap. A gift from Nadia.

When she returned, the water was steaming on the stove. Muriel was still eating. Taking slow bites.

She ladled water into the washbasin. She dipped her elbow into the water. It was quite hot, but he ran hot, and she was nearly immune to the heat herself, having had to scrub with it so often in medical practice.  She lifted the basin, and made to place it on the table, in arms reach, but out of Muriel's way. She ran her finger along the rim, enchanting it to stay warm.

"I'm going to clean you up a bit if that's okay? You can take a bath later if you want. I think this will help you feel a little better in the meantime."

He stopped for a moment, contemplating. He really didn't want to be fussed over, but...he knew she wasn't wrong. He nodded, silent.

She dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out. She put the bar of soap into the bundle of cloth, massaging it until it frothed. Cedar. Sweet Citrus. Eucalyptus.  Good job, Nadia.  

Celeste moved behind him, brushing his hair over his shoulder. The cloth was brushed lightly over the back of his neck, his shoulders. Gentle pressure. He moaned a bit. It felt incredible. Warmth pricking at his skin, followed by a cool breeze across the damp trails left behind. He was hunched over his bowl. Never one for excellent posture on his best day. It made for easier work tonight. She worked diligently.

Even now, like this, he was magnificent. Powerful.

She remembered the first time she recalled...running into him, outside the shop. With his curse, it was a hazy memory at best, but she did remember something. Him, all mystery and darkness, delivering an ominous warning. She remembered not really giving much of a damn about the warning, strange as it was. Everything then was strange, so that wasn't exactly new news.

All she knew at that moment was that she was going to climb that big tree some fine day. He was the first man, since waking up in Asra's arms three years prior, that had stirred something that voracious in her. He inspired a Volta-Esque hunger in her. She liked to blame Asra for that, teasing. Giving her half a heart that already belonged to some tall, dark, handsome stranger. She never stood a chance.

Once she had finished his back, she peered over his shoulder. His bowl was empty again, and he just sat, enjoying her ministrations. Quiet.

"Will you take off your pants? I want to get your front, too. If you want me to?" she inquired.

He took a shaky breath, color flooding his cheeks. He turned to look up at her, unsure.

She gave a quiet chuckle. "Oh, please. It's nothing I haven't seen a thousand times before. Let me do this."

He sighed and stood up, shaking his head, hands at the waist of the drawstring, soft trousers. He unknotted the tie, sliding them slowly over his hips. "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, trust me. I want to. Give me an excuse to get my hands on you. I'll take it." she teased gently, watching him.

The garment fell away, leaving him exposed, and he kicked it roughly aside, going back to sit, turning the chair away from the table. He couldn't quite meet her eyes, still blushing.

She refreshed the cloth and moved to kneel in front of him. She started at his collarbone and moved down. She focused on her task, though it was...difficult. She was used to being in the position in front of him. Usually, her job was a bit different. But, until he was clean, that particular prospect was a bridge too far. Though, he did seem to be stirring a bit under her touch. She bit the inside of her mouth, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to keep her sober.

Her hand moved to his abdomen. Each defined abdominal muscle. A line of dark hair, all trailing to his cock. Gods. This was going to be a problem. It had been a while since he’d let her get this close. She cleared her throat, her own cheeks flushing, heat pooling in her stomach. "I...think I should let you handle that. I'm going to get your dessert. It should be ready." she said, patting his thigh, then placing the cloth in his hand, pushing herself up, moving to grab a crepe spade and plate from the cabinets.

He watched her as she moved away. He could feel himself smile involuntarily. He had always had trouble accepting that she found him handsome, but after this long, he knew she did. The fact that he could be this low and still elicit that reaction from her did cheer him a bit. He turned to refresh the cloth with soap and water. He would be thorough. He didn't know what he would be able to manage. But, he promised himself, he would have her tonight, in some capacity or another.

She moved the pie to the countertop and cut in. It had cooled and the juices had set. The flaking crust crunched and splintered as she moved the wedge through. She breathed a purely Epicurean sigh. It sliced cleanly. No gapping between the crust and fruit. The sweet fluid did drip, viscous. Exactly what she wanted. She said a silent prayer of thanks. They didn't always turn out this perfect.

She plated the slice and took a moment to admire it, before picking it up, grabbing a fork, and moving to the sitting area. She took a seat on the pile of furs on the far side of the room. Muriel's preferred place.

He watched her as she went, finishing his task. He tossed the rag in the bowl of water and stood, following after her. He stood over her, glistening in the firelight. "That's mine, right?" He said, jerking his chin towards the plate in her hand.

She smiled up at him, tilting her head to the place beside her. "I think you've earned it."

He climbed onto the pile, lounging at her side. He made to take the plate from her, but she pulled back. He furrowed his brow, confused. She sliced through the pie with the fork and brought it to his lips. He huffed a bit. "Really?" he said, incredulous.

"Mmm-hmm. Grant me this one last indulgence. Then, I'll stop infantilizing you and treat you like the man you are. Promise." She winked.

He opened his mouth, and she placed the bite on his tongue. His eyes closed and his head lolled back, groaning. The crust was delicate, airy, with a crackle. It nearly melted in his mouth. He could taste the butter. The filling rode the line of being almost cloying, honeyed, but that was cut through by the tart freshness of the cherries and a hint of orange. He chewed, slow. When he swallowed, he swore. "Oh, fuck me."

"I will, but you have to tell me what you think of the pie first."

[opulentcherries]

hey there, eddie [reddie au] 1/3

pairings: reddie, stenbrough,

warnings: fuckton of cursing, angst, lots of sad shit, underage drinking,

words: 1.7k

extra: this is a playlist fic. each part is based on a different song, and the fic as a whole is based on the song hey there delilah by the plain white t's.

song of the chapter: no idea by all time low

synopsis: the losers are off to college and richie is inexplicably upset that he’s staying in derry. with his best friend and secret love of his life moving to new york, richie can’t help but dwell on the fact that his life is not at all moving in the right direction. so richie does the only thing he knows how, he writes it all down and picks up his guitar.

please don’t hesitate to send me an ask or leave some feedback in the comments <3 it motivates me to write and makes me feel like i’m not totally terrible so enjoy!

richie felt alone.

it was unusual for him to feel like this while he was with the others, but the heavy feeling in his heart was too strong to ignore.

the losers all sat in their typical hangout of the quarry, hair wet from swimming, voices hoarse from screaming. they sat on logs around a campfire, roasting marshmallows and telling stories of old adventures, smiles littering their faces.

richie sat on a lone log, watching all the others with hooded eyes. he coasted over them sadly, knowing that soon, none of this would be here.

graduation was in a measly three weeks and within a month they'd all be scattered about the map; bill and stan in boston, mike in new jersey, bev in philadelphia, ben traveling a ways away to toronto, eddie in new york and richie, well richie was gonna be stuck in derry.

the thought rested heavily in richie's mind as he twirled the marshmallow clad stick lazily in the fire, eyes set on his group. it had been the seven of them always, ever since they banded together in the seventh grade. best friends forever and ever is what they promised, but richie knew better. he knew that people never stay.

as this particular thought weighed in his mind, richie's dark eyes settled on his favorite loser, who was lost in a story that beverly and mike were reciting animately.

eddie kaspbrak, the boy that managed to steal his heart with a single look. the boy he annoyed constantly with the crude comments falling off his chapped lips. the boy who meant more to him than anyone in the entire world.

richie heaved a sigh, knowing that he'd never be able to tell eddie how he really felt. in four weeks time eddie would be in a big city with so many different people that eddie would soon forget about his old best friend in his childhood town.

you see, richie tozier knew he wasn't special. he knew he wasn't smart, and he knew that he would be stuck in derry for the rest of his life, in a dead end job that he hated. he wasn't nearly good enough for eddie kaspbrak, no, not even close. this richie knew.

eddie was someone so special, so extraordinary. he knew that the small, snarky boy would grow up to do great things, and if richie was truly the best friend eddie believed he was, he couldn't bring himself to hold him back.

richie wasn't sure what hurt more, knowing that he wasn't good enough for the boy he was so desperately in love with or knowing that in order to let him be the happy he deserved, he had to let him go.

"richie!" the lanky boy's thoughts were interrupted by the very boy always clouding them. "are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"what?"

bev looked him over in suspicion and confusion. "your marshmallow is completely fried, rich. the stick is nearly blazing.”

richie looked down at the charred marshmellow and shook the fire out. "oh. sorry."

the group stilled at the feeble apology, looking at their friend with confused eyes. this wasn't the richie they knew. no, their richie made the most disgusting comments at the worst possible times. their richie never shut his mouth, and their richie made them laugh like no other ever could.

this version of richie looked down at his shoes like they were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. he was quiet and sad, and it didn't sit right with any of them.

stan cleared his throat, "richie? what's wrong? find out your iq is the same as your age again?"

richie knew it was a joke, and he knew that stan was baiting him so they could have their usual snippy banter, but all richie could think of was how far away he'd be from them all because he wasn't smart enough to go anywhere else.

they'll forget you in no time, his subconscious reminded him cruelly. you're nothing compared to them.

when it seemed like his sad expression only deepened, mike spoke. "you know you can always talk to us, rich. we're here for you, always."

always.

richie shook his head and plastered a much too fake smile on his lips. "I'm fine, really you losers. jeez, you'd think I died or something the way you all look."

from across the small fire, eddie kaspbrak glanced over his best friend with worried eyes. this wasn't his richie, the boy that annoyed him at all times. he didn't like that richie was quiet and seemingly sullen, it was unnatural.

he also knew, that there was way more to richie's feelings than he was letting on. he was lying, and eddie knew he'd never let his guard down in front of the others. for this reason alone eddie waited for richie to look up, because no matter how much the troubled boy his feelings from the group, he could never hide them from eddie.

like expected, richie looked up when feeling eyes on him, and fell into the trap of eddie's chocolate colored eyes. eddie raised an eyebrow, question in his eyes. richie only shook his slightly in response, and eddie stared harder, almost daring him to lie.

beverly had been watching the encounter between eddie and richie, and she noticed how he was keeping his feelings from not only the group, but even eddie. it was unusual, because no one in the world was closer than eddie and richie.

she realized there must have been way more to the story than she knew, so she decided to jump in and save him.

"hey rich," the dark eyes slid from eddie to her. "you have your guitar right? why don't you play us something?"

richie breathed a laugh, "oh god no,” he says. “i'll probably fuck up your ears.”

ben snorted, "richie tozier being modest? never thought i'd see the day."

richie rolled his eyes. "i'm not being modest, I'm just not that good.”

eddie rolled his eyes then. "you're the best that i know, rich."

richie's heart could have melted right then and there, and all of a sudden, the overwhelming need to get his feelings out seemed to take him over. he nodded, and bev clapped, bill, stan, ben and mike smiling. eddie let his lips turn up slightly, but just simply watched as richie reached behind him and grabbed the guitar case.

"um..." richie paused, wondering what to play. he wanted something that would make him feel better, but he didn't want to give anything away. he couldn't afford for someone to catch onto his feelings. "okay."

richie lined up his fingers up to the correct chords and let his fingers do the rest, his voice coming out soft and small.

I was dreaming we were running

from a city burning down,

down, down, down

eddie felt his heart flutter at richie's deep, calming voice singing the familiar song, and he instantly sat up straighter in his seat.

richie continued to sing, letting his emotions pour into the lyrics, voice growing stronger.

now there's a piece of me

tells me I shouldn't leave

everytime I see your face

as if he was being compelled to do so, richie looked up at eddie, only to find the other boy already looking at him. their eyes connected and while richie knew the smile on eddie's face was purely platonic, his heart began to pound anyway.

because everytime

you come around

love, you take my breath away and i just wanna breathe until,

i take you in

i never want you to leave until

i take you in

but the truth is,

richie felt like his heart was being torn in two as he sang, the words hitting far too close to home. when he felt the tears start to build he looked down, hand still strumming away to the song.

she has no idea, no idea

that I'm even here

she has no idea, no idea

that I'm even here

that I'm even here

the remaining losers somehow felt, looking between eddie and richie that they were intruding on an intimate moment. regardless of how much richie buried his feelings, his love for eddie was too strong. they all knew how deeply richie felt for the other, and they hated that he did nothing.

some of them weren't sure if eddie felt the same and the others were convinced that he did, but either way, richie had the potential to be happy and he was denying himself the opportunity because he didn't feel like he deserved it.

she's so close when i'm so far away

when i'm so far away

let me dream

let me stay

she's so close when i'm so far away

when i'm so far away

i can sleep

i can dream

i can change

richie slowed his movements as he neared the end of the song, his voice slurring slightly as he placed more emphasis on each lyric. he looked up at eddie once more as he sang.

she has no idea, no idea

that i'm even here

that i'm even here

she has no idea, no idea

that i'm even here

that i'm even here

she has no idea, no idea

that i'm even here

that i'm even here

he has no idea

that i'm even here...

then suddenly it was quiet. richie could feel his heart pound in his ears and no one said anything. he fucked up, god, he fucked up. he had changed the pronoun without even realizing, while singing to eddie.

eddie felt his face warm as the word dropped from richie's mouth. he. was it supposed to mean eddie? was richie trying to tell him something?

his mind spun with questions and he wanted so badly to talk to richie, but the boy was already up and moving.

"richie-" bill tried to stop him, but richie rushed away, mumbling a half assed excuse of needing to get home, not sparing even the slightest glance to any of them.

especially eddie.

[charmingturkeysandwich]

I Could Use a Love Song Ch. 3: don’t need no reason or happy hour

Chapter 3 of my Country Singer!Emma AU is here. I added a tag on AO3 for alcohol abuse, because while I don’t think we have true alcoholism here... Emma’s coping mechanisms are shit and the heavy drinking isn’t the healthiest. I wanted to make sure that I added that warning here as well. Please don’t use alcohol like Emma does here. I know from experience it’s hella bad news. Find a therapist! This is actual advice, not a joke. For reals. Emma should have just gone to a counselor instead of making appointments with Jose Cuervo and Jack Daniels. If anyone has treated you the way this iteration of Neal treated Emma, talk to someone. If you can’t afford a therapist, talk to me. Seriously, no lie, no joke, I’m only alive today because I eventually adopted a dog and sought counseling to cope with life’s many traumas.

Mmmmkkay enough babbling. 

Also on AO3

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Their next few gigs were some of the best in Emma’s (admittedly tequila-hazed) memory, and for once that glimmer of hope for that future of fame and fortune… well, it felt like a hell of a lot more than a glimmer.

The crowds had been rowdy, raucous, and ready to sing along to every song on their whole set. A few people even more some of the merch Killian had started selling at the door, nothing fancy of course, but it made her heart burst with pride nonetheless.

It had all gotten so real, so achievable, so close to everything she’s been dreaming about before she ever really knew that dreams were a thing that could come true.

So of course something was about to bring back the quasi-comfort of her life always reverting to being a waking nightmare.

That was a deeply melodramatic way of putting it – it’s not like she was being beaten or shamed or any of the daily torments her tiny town had ensured were burned into her brain. But that was the problem with the past, wasn’t it? It wasn’t over, even when it was. Those days were past but they would always somehow be present, replaying in her brain and aching in her heart no matter how far from Pennsylvania their little van puttered.

(Whoever said you can’t go home again neglected to mention how hard it was to leave it, even after you’d physically gone.)

It had been a Tuesday. In some chain grocery store outside Virginia Beach, the sun glowing through the big front windows and the icy chill of the air conditioning raising goosebumps on her bare arms. Emma had only echoes of a hangover, so Ruby’s constantly chatting wasn’t nearly as grating as it could be. They moved slowly through the aisles, tossing various food and supplies in their cart, more than fulfilling the list Graham and Mary Margaret had given them.

They were still struggling artists but some weeks the struggle was… less. This was one of them and if they decided to celebrate with Patron instead of Jose Cuervo and fresh, organic honeycrisp apples instead of Great Value brand dried apple chips, well, it’s because they damn well deserved it.

They couldn’t have been more than a few feet away from the checkout when the radio (a constant calming presence, most days, being the object of their ambition and all) caused her heart to drop to the deepest pits of her gut, twisting her insides until she was nearly dry-heaving to get the gross sensation of feelings out of her body and in the sewer system where it belonged.

They say scent is tied to memory, and it surely is, but there’s something, too, in sound. Music had a distinct way of tying itself to a moment, to a feeling. For some people that feeling was joy, was love, could be better than the best drug to intoxicate them with no risk of hangover. But for Emma, for this song in particular, it was all hangover, no high.

I’m set on cruise control

I’m slowly losing hold of everything I got

You’re looking so damn hot

The lyrics were innocuous enough. Sweet. Loving. There was certainly some couple out there – many, probably – who smiled fondly at each other when it came on. But for her, it was just a reminder of how pathetic she’d been, once upon a time, how deeply manipulated she’d been. And oh, the consequences she’d suffered for falling for a sweet voice and a pretty face and a moment that had felt like a country song.

And I don’t know what road we’re on

Or where we’ve been, from starin at you, girl

All I know is I don’t want this night to end

It had been a song she’d listened to in Neal’s truck, on a back road, the moon high and the stars bright and her heart hammering in her chest before he leaned over the center counsel parked in his daddy’s field and kissed her like she was precious, like she was, like he could love her through this life and the next.

And even today, half-hungover in a Piggly Wiggly or whatever the fuck this place was, she still felt the whisper of butterflies in her. She still remembered how much she’d believed the lies and even hoped the bad stuff wasn’t actually real, holding on to nights like that first one, her and Neal seemingly the only two people on Earth and all she’d ever need to feel whole again.

Emma Swan was a fighter, a survivor, a strong, badass woman that no man would ever hurt again.

But one Luke Bryan song on a clear Tuesday afternoon had her so torn up in shame, she almost forgot her best friend was standing beside her, her little “family” of a band and crew waiting for her back at the block of hotel rooms down the road.

She wasn’t in Pennsylvania. Neal wasn’t anywhere near her. But she could practically smell his cologne and the exhaust of his truck and the fact that there was a tiny part of her that truly still wished it had all worked out, that he’d been the happily ever after she’d wanted, and she wanted to slap herself silly for how stupid one smart girl could be.

“I think we can afford some Reese’s mix, right?” Ruby asked, already tossing two bags in the cart as they entered the self-checkout line.

“Yeah,” was all Emma could respond, her traitor brain still wavering between wishing for an alternate ending to her stupid, sad tale and coming totally clean to Ruby about what horrors she’d suffered and hitting the road with her on a revenge-fueled quest to keep that fucker from ever hurting another sweet, could-be-innocent girl ever again.

“Emma, you with me?” Ruby’s voice was hesitant, her eyes wide as she took in Emma’s likely ghost-pale complexion and battle-ready stance.

(She was always fighting those internal ghosts and damn could those things travel.)

But she didn’t want to think about Neal or the bruises long-healed or how she wishes she could time travel back and prevent the most painful part of what that monster had done to her, the part where for a pretty little minute she truly thought she’d loved him.

No. The past might be doing its damnedest to creep into today but she was not going to let it.

Fuck you, Luke Bryan, and all your pelvic sorcery.

“God, I hate this song,” Emma finally croaked out. “I think we should celebrate today.”

“Celebrate how much you hate a song that I’m fairly sure David would kill you for hating?”

“No, Rubes. Celebrate this,” Emma motioned all around them, somewhat erratically, only serving to further confuse Ruby. At least for a moment. “We’re really getting somewhere, aren’t we? I mean, three hotel rooms. That’s, like, a record. We’re getting somewhere. You and I, we came from some shit, right? And now we’re headed toward something good and I think we should celebrate.”

“And how exactly do you propose we celebrate this? Because if it’s by having a four-way with Graham and Killian I’m absolutely in, with just a couple ground rules – “

Emma cut off her teasing before her brain had enough time to make any visuals of that: “Ew. God, no. Why does your brain even go there? No. I just meant, you know, hitting some bars or the beach or something. Day drinking. It’s the ultimate in enjoyment and not giving a fuck.”

“So you’re suggesting we celebrate the good the same way we drown our sorrows in the bad?” Ruby mocked, tossing the groceries on the conveyor belt and a packet of mints at Emma’s head.

“No, you drink your sorrows in the dark. You drink your celebrations when the sun’s out,” Emma said like it was the most normal, accepted thing in the world, like she was reciting it from a code of conduct instead of having made it up on the spot to cover for the fact that she very much, one hundred percent was drowning her sorrows but just didn’t have the patience to wait for the sun to set.

“Sure, Ems. Let’s go with that.” Ruby clearly wasn’t buying her bullshit – she always did have an excellent bullshit detector – but she went along with it all the same.

Emma paid for the groceries and hefted as many bags to the car as she could possibly carry, the burn in her arms like the warmth of the sun as she flip-flopped her way to the awaiting van, a great day of drinking and forgettingahead of her.

The usual six of them turned into seven that day, Killian’s old buddy from the service having been stationed at the naval base in Norfolk and here for a visit. Will, that was his name, and he was a pain in the ass in the very best way. He had been matching her shot-for-shot in the hotel room before they hopped the Uber to The Cove, a beachside bar favored by locals and tourists alike. He would tease her and taunt her and buy her drinks, but with absolutely the energy of a brother and not a I’m looking to get into your pants kind of way.

David saw her as a sister, sure, but he tended toward the serious, the protective. He cared so much and knew too much, and it kept him from being totally lighthearted or even downright rude. And Graham, well he never paid Emma quite that much attention, always on his own quests and whatnot. She couldn’t blame the guy, and truly she didn’t usually want attention, but there was something about today, something about the casual nature of her exchanges with Will that allowed her to just be free.

Killian wasn’t quite on board, though. Ever since she and Ruby had floated the idea of some casual no-show-tonight fun, he’d been weirdly quiet. Mary Margaret and David were notably excited, seeming to view it as an opportunity for date night, even with the five other tagalongs. And Ruby was pretty much always up for a party.

But Killian seemed to be cranky at her and she couldn’t figure out why.

“Let loose, why don’t you, Jones!” Emma shouted across the bar, Killian nursing a rum and coke while Ruby, Will, and Emma had joined another group of probable-tourists in a limbo competition.

“Eh, let him sulk,” Will had suggested, stumbling a little after returning to the upright position. He was suspiciously good at the limbo. Maybe he’d been a gymnast in another life?

“I’ll get him, Em,” Ruby promised, having fallen flat on her ass after the last round (the responding ooooohhhhhhshaving more to do with her skirt riding up to her waist as she fell than it was about the fall itself).

Ruby had spent the next hour or so in the corner with Killian, both steadily drinking but never really coming to re-join the party. So Emma and Will kept socializing with strangers while Graham flirted hard with a pretty girl and Mary Margaret and David found another grossly into each other couple to apparently double date with, because of course they did.

After a few drinking games, a few messy dances, and definitely too much liquor for before 5pm, Emma finally took a break, she and Will sidling up to the bar and ordering some nachos.

“Y’know, you’re not nearly as pretty as Killian described you,” Will said after a few minutes of nacho-focused silence.

“Hey! I think you’re insulting me and I don’t appreciate it,” Emma responded, cheese dripping down the corner of her mouth.

“Way he talks, you’d think you were a bleeding fallen angel or something. I definitely didn’t expect a hot mess who talked with her mouth full.”

“Hah! You said hot. I still got it,” she joked, chomping down on another cheese and chili covered chip.

Emma had become pretty good at reading people – people tended to adapt after you suffering the consequences of falling for it – and Will definitely wasn’t flirting with her. At least not with actual intent. So why on earth had he brought up her looks?

She was happy to play along with whatever game he had going, was even feeling a little bolder and more confident than usual with his carefree attitude and his backward compliments.

But his next comment was the proverbial bucket of ice on any of those feelings.

“He’s a good man, Emma. I hope you don’t toy with him.”

“Excuse me?” What exactly was this fucker accusing her of? She hadn’t even talked to Killian since they’d been at the hotel and she certainly hadn’t been mean. No, even at her most prickly, she was never all-out mean to him. He was a good guy, the type to hold your hair when you puked and nearly the opposite of her initial assumptions about him. Of course she’d never ���toy with him.’ The fucking nerve of this dude.

“I don’t think you know me enough to continue those thoughts, Scarlet,” she warned, shoving the nachos away and downing her fruity drink.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like you, Emma. You’d make a good mate. But I’m more like you than you realize, and I know how many people I hurt before I got myself straight. Just … keep that in mind, won’t ya?”

And then the bastard just… left.

He didn’t say goodbye to anyone – not even to Killian – and left Emma pissed as all hell and sitting alone at a tourist trap in the worst city in all of Virginia.

So much for that attempt at celebration.

But before her thoughts (and actions) could turn to the dark side, Graham and David were approaching her for a friendly tournament of darts and after a couple bulls eyes and a little light taunting, her carefree spirit had returned, just in time to kick Mary Margaret’s ass and move onto the championship game between her and Killian.

“So, that friend of yours is something,” Emma observed, tossing her first set of darts and landing them with soft thunks into the felt.

“Will? Aye. He’s… he’s been a friend for quite a long time. There for me for some pain. So I choose to keep his pain-in-the-ass existence around.” His tone was light and his words sincere, but there was a weight to his expression that Emma didn’t quite understand.

He took his turn, little glints in his eye and mini-fist pumps when he hit his intended target. It was adorable, to be honest. But there was definitely something wrong and despite Will’s seeming accusations about her and her abilities to be a good friend, she wanted nothing more than to take away whatever pain he was reliving at the moment.

So she lost – yes, intentionally – and dragged him to the bar, ordering him some straight whiskey to loosen him up and hopefully to help him forget like she already was.

“Why, Swan, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk,” he practically purred, breaking the flirty tone with a gentle boop to her nose. “Which is usually my tactic.”

“Easy, Captain,” she joked with him, fiddling with the prosthetic ‘hook’ contraption he wore when they went out (it’s a perfect beer holder, he’d said, to which she’d responded yeah, right, you just want to play pirate).

Despite the fog of the liquor, a few facts clicked into place. He’d suffered some bad shit in his past, shit Will apparently witnessed. Killian had also lost his hand, probably in the Navy. And this town, it wasn’t far from a navy base. Could that have been his navy base? Had they inadvertently brought Killian to the scene of the crime, so to speak?

The way she never wanted to go back to her ‘hometown,’ the place she’d lived the longest and suffered the most… what if that’s how he felt here? What if she’d suggested they celebrate over the grave of whatever and whoever he lost?

God, she was a hot mess and she was dangerous, the way she sank into her pain without looking into anyone else’s.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she wanted to apologize. Or something. “I’m sorry about this. Or, I guess, about whatever led to this. Or accompanied it. I’m just… I’m just sorry?”

“For the ungodly amount of liquor you’re pressuring me into drinking? Don’t worry, love, I’m a big boy.”

Ugh, the deflection. She knew that tactic well. “No, I mean this,” she said, gripping the elbow of his damaged arm. “I don’t know what happened and I’m not asking, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry. Not in the fault kind of way. Just the way where I wish it hadn’t happened and I know there’s pain and you didn’t deserve it. Or don’t. Currently. You know what I mean.”

“I think you’re drunk off your ass, darling.”

“Call me darling one more time and you’ll be the one on your ass.”

“So defensive, jeez,” he quipped, finishing another drink and slamming the glass back down on the table, his face melting into something a little more serious, if only for a moment. “Thank you, Swan,” he said finally, cupping her cheek with his right hand.

Her heart about stopped as his eyes bored into hers. It was much too much, the closeness, the feel of his hand, the heat of his body, the truth in his eyes, and all she wanted was to go back to teasing and laughing and strangers who didn’t have feelings or at least didn’t share them with her and why did she even bring it up, anyway? Just because Will had made her feel bad? Why shouldn’t they drink away their pain if it quieted the demons for one blessed day? Why should we have to suffer the same memories over and over when instead we could just fucking let go.

She should have just stuck to letting go.

But his intense sincerity washed away in a blink, his flirty near-pirate persona back with a vengeance. “Now, Swan, what game shall I best you at next?” His gentle caress on her cheek turned into a full grip, his fingers scrunching her face almost comically.

“Name it, Jones. You’re on.”

Turns out their little crew had signed them all up for a cornhole tournament out on the sand and Graham had called dibs on Emma as a partner, for which she was thankful. He was pretty boss at all bar games, and she had a competitive streak even without her BAC being higher than her high school GPA.

But get her drunk and she’d pretty much lie, cheat, and steal her way to bragging rights on whatever silly game they were playing.

So of course she and Graham had made it to the finals, their opponents two bikini-clad college girls who could trash talk like no other.

Which is why Emma was totally fine with the little plot she had brewing in her head.

“Graham, we need distractions here.”

“What do you mean, like have Mary Margaret set something on fire again?”

“Oh, come on. Pretty girls. Fun, happy, drunk, pretty girls. I saw them ogling you earlier so they’re probably straight. Take your shirt off. Now!”

“I always said I’d reject your advances when you inevitably tried to get me naked, Swan, but you drive a hard bargain.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but Graham did as instructed, stretching lazily and pantomiming sweat before pulling at the neck of his t-shirt and whisking it over his head.

The girls missed their next shots, and Graham had the chance to win it with this last toss and Emma was ready to bust out her victory dance just a tad prematurely.

Until the brunette untied her bikini top and let the fabric fall to her waist just as Graham was taking his shot.

He missed, of course.

Damn, these girls were good.

“Can I be of assistance?” a husky voice offered, his breath ticking her ear lobe.

Killian, of course.

“What exactly can you offer, Jones?” Graham swooped in to ask, clearly annoyed that his bare chest hadn’t yet won them the game.

“Well, Graham, Emma here assures me that you’re one ‘fine specimen of man’ but sadly to those girls you’re all talk and no action, across the beach from them, separated by this very game. I think they need something a little more… tactile.”

Killian was over-confident when he was drinking, but it’s not as if he were wrong. If she were one of those girls and Killian came up to her, with his sultry accent and his maddening smirk and the way he’d run his fingers through her long hair…

Yeah, it would work. Definitely. Yup.

“Go for it, Jones, but don’t come crying to us if they don’t take to your charms the way you want them to,” Emma warned, rolling her eyes and banishing all inappropriate thoughts of Killian Jones to the dark recesses of her mind with her knowledge of calculus and the memory of that time she walked in on Mary Margaret sucking David off in their shared kitchen back in Pittsburgh.

Killians voice alone proved distracting enough for the blonde girl to miss her shot and Graham, his ego now challenged, sank his with ease.

Emma cheered far too loud and leaped into Graham’s arms, her legs around his waist, Ruby rushing up to high five them and pass along a few more shots to keep the day rolling.

By the time the sun sank behind the bar, the ocean in front of them streaked with the deep blues and purples of twilight, Emma was well past drunk and definitely no longer thinking of any painful backstories or traumas or anything, really, but the cinnamon burn of the Fireball and the feel of Killian’s arm around her as they walked down a set of stairs to a fire pit so much like those that she’d built on the banks of the Allegheny and yet so different, the smell of the salt of the ocean and the leather of Killian’s jacket keeping her brain from connecting the present to the past.

“Jones, haven’t you ever heard you’re supposed to keep your hands to yourself in the presence of a lady?” she teased, wiggling her shoulders where he was grasping her.

“Aye, but I see no ladies here!” He chuckled and she elbowed him and he bowed his head to her ear as they stepped down the last stair. “Besides, love, what if you’d fallen and no one was there to save you?”

She rolled her eyes again, shrugging off his support now that there was no excuse for it, solid ground beneath their feet. “Oh, I’m a loud screamer. Someone would have come for me.”

“Oh, how I’d like to experience both of those things for myself…” Killian groaned, his mind of course solidly in the gutter.

Emma just laughed it off and stumbled toward the fire, joining Mary Margaret and David on a log clearly only meant for two.

Tomorrow was going to be hell, definitely more than just the echo of a hangover. But they had hotel rooms and each other and now and really those things alone made every minute of tomorrow’s inevitable headache more worth it than she could ever have fathomed in any stage of her life before this one.

[franstastic-ideas]

The Citizens of Ebott Town

I thought it was about time I elaborated on my AU Wraithtale beyond just Frisk, Chara, Sans, Gaster and Papyrus, even though they'll be featured here as well. I'll be writing a one-shot featuring Wraithtale sometime in the near future, so consider this a preview of sorts along with finally fleshing out this universe.

Since this is about Ebott Town and its citizens, Chara and Frisk will be detailed in another post. Please feel free to ask me anything about Wraithtale if you're interested in the AU!

Ebott Town - It's a dead end town at the base of the mountain. Even though the town itself stretches all around the mountain's base, the population is small; just about everyone knows each other and news spreads fast among the community. There's plenty of houses, of course, a school, a hospital, some stores, a handful of restaurants spread around, and there's even some public transportation like buses, but there's also a whole lot of nature. The mountain is huge. Residents that have been there all their lives still haven't seen everything to see around there, probably because even without the myths of shadow monsters lurking in the dark forests scattered there, the mountain has plenty of other ways to keep people from wanting to climb it.

Steep cliffs, rivers, bears. You know, usual mountain-y stuff.

But about the myths of shadow monsters: for generations, the people who live at the mountain's base have caught glimpses of human-like figures moving between the thick expanse of trees of the mountain's forests. However, on closer inspection, it becomes apparently obvious that these figures are anything but human. Legends say that if you allow one to get too close, the wraith will steal your body and face. Or eat you from the inside out. Legends also say that many centuries ago, a group of fearful humans carved a series of stone totems  that harnessed the power of the sun and spread them around the mountain's base to keep the wraiths trapped on the mountain.

These totems are still standing at the story's beginning and become important later in the AU - some time after Frisk and Chara's existence is revealed to Sans and Papyrus, one of the totems is destroyed by a construction crew, allowing Frisk and Chara an opening to get off the mountain and into Ebott Town.

 The Citizens of Ebott:

 Toriel: She's a teacher at Ebott's school; Ebott technically has more than one school, but it's a series of buildings all located on one property. She's also a volunteer at Ebott's hospital and has had to bandage up Papyrus on many more than one occasion. Asriel is just in his first year of middle school, but Toriel already calls herself an old lady even though many have told her she still looks good for her age. She and Asgore are still married, and happily so; they're that couple that's still lovey dovey after years of marriage and they embarrass Asriel to no end. Many of Ebott Town's citizens want to leave their lives here for something greater, but Toriel is one of the few entirely happy where they are.

Sans and Papyrus lost their mother at a young and tender age, so she became the maternal figure in their life. She's deeply saddened by the current rift between Sans and Gaster, but she tends to side with the former even though Toriel hates for there to be any conflict at all. She believes that Gaster continuously placing pressure on Sans to succeed, while he meant well in doing so, only succeeded in robbing Sans of a bright future and ultimately lost his oldest son as a result.

Sans: Prior to the main story, Sans was a college student aiming for a major in science while simultaneously aiding his father in his experiments. He and Gaster got along for the most part; arguments were sometimes a thing, but they weren't usually serious or extreme. However, one fateful day, this would change; one of Gaster's experiments went haywire. Gaster's creations going haywire wasn't unordinary, but this one involved a dangerous chemical compound. This compound ate right through Sans's lab coat sleeves and burned his arms, permanently scarring them. When Gaster still wanted to continue his research with the compound, Sans began questioning whether his father loved him or his work more. And with this thought along with the increasingly added pressure to succeed, his grades began rapidly slipping, and with that, Gaster grew more upset with him - eventually it culminated in Sans having a nervous breakdown on campus. He was swiftly expelled afterward for his 'tantrum' and sent home, back to Ebott Town and never to return.

He gets into a heated argument with Gaster, which leads to a second nervous breakdown and Sans finally unloading every one of his recent negative thoughts on his father and accuses him of not loving him. Sans wasn't satisfied with Gaster's attempts to explain himself and wanted to move out and take his brother with him, but Papyrus refused to leave. So the three live under one roof, a broken family. Sans began using his time working odd jobs alongside Papyrus and exploring the mountainous region that had been around him all of his life. He deflects any questions asked about why he isn't in college anymore by the residents of Ebott and he always keeps his arms covered, wearing long sleeves even in the summer to hide his burns.

Papyrus: Unlike his brother, Papyrus never got the chance to leave town and go to college. He doesn't let it bother him though and finds plenty of opportunities to learn in his own community - life itself will be his educator!

Papyrus never decided what he wanted to do after graduation. There's so much that he wants to do; he's largely indecisive and he doesn't want to leave Ebott Town to pursue a career, so currently he completes odd jobs alongside his brother around Ebott to get a feel for what career might be best for him. However, he can't stop that little glimmer of hope in his heart of wanting to make it big, but unlike everyone else, he wants to make it big right where he is. Adults have tried to reason with him into giving up on that dream, that it's a lost cause and a waste of his time, but he staunchly refuses this possibility and continues trying his best, certain that everything will eventually work out.

He's currently the glue that's holding the pieces of this shattered family together. If it weren't for him, Sans would have left town the night he came home. Sans won't leave without his brother and Papyrus knows this, so he's got Sans at a stalemate. He knows that if Sans ever left town, then he may never speak to Gaster again and then they may never reconcile. And he also knows that deep down, Sans doesn't want to leave Ebott Town either. But ever since he met Frisk, Papyrus thinks he at least doesn't have to worry about that happening anymore...

Undyne: Undyne wanted to become a police officer after she graduated high school, but instead, she's been relegated to the position of 'mountain patrol'. In other words, Gerson took pity on her and used his own position in the force to give Undyne some involvement in the career path she chose but was denied. The higher ups in the police force rejected Undyne because, no matter how strongly she upholds justice and how passionate she is, they still see her as a problem child and won't give her a chance. Gerson, however, sees Undyne's potential and gives her the task of 'mountain patrol' out of sympathy and because he believes that eventually she'll prove herself worthy to the rest of the police force.

Which is why initially, when she learns of the wraiths' confirmed existence and the police sent out a notice requesting their capture, she wants to apprehend Frisk and Chara and secure her place in the force. It took a lot of convincing from Sans and Papyrus to stand down, and Chara constantly announcing her intentions for the town and the rest of humanity didn't help in the slightest, but eventually they reason with her and Undyne befriends Frisk and later Chara. Even though it costed her promotion, she keeps the two shadow monsters safe from the hands of the law, since now she feels having the two apprehended would be unjust and against her morals. That, and she loves a good star-crossed lovers forbidden romance as much as the next gal.

Alphys: Alphys is currently taking college classes online while also working as Gaster's assistant. After Sans's nervous breakdown, she feels guilty for essentially 'stealing his future', getting a college education when he couldn't, and working alongside Gaster even while knowing how he hurt Sans. Sans doesn't hold anything against her for it, telling her that everything that happened between the two of them was his and Gaster's business. Even so, she sometimes can't help but feel like what she's doing is unfair to him and wrong.

Alphys once dreamed that she, Gaster, and Sans would revitalize the town together, but since the latter two's falling out that dream seems impossible to her. Even so, she loves the town and has no desire to leave, feeling that the rest of the world is too big for her and this is where she belongs. Along with Sans, she was the one in their group who was most often bullied in school; she was mistreated for her chubby body like Sans was, but unlike him, she almost always had Undyne to defend her and her side of the story was usually believed over her tormentor's. She had low self esteem until Gaster saw potential in her and took her as his assistant. He built up her self esteem along with Sans and the rest of her friends, so Sans's descent thereafter makes her feel torn between the two even though both assure her she has no reason to feel that way.

Muffet: Muffet works in her mother's bakery and writes independent gothic literature on the side. Unknown to most of the town, several of her stories have already been published anonymously and she's receiving moderate to substantial success. When she and Sans were still in high school, Gaster had set the two up on a date once. Sans had never expressed any interest in having a romantic relationship, and Gaster thought he needed assistance in acquiring a girlfriend, so he selected Muffet as a romantic candidate for Sans. What followed was an extremely embarrassing night for Sans and an amusing one for Muffet. Despite her still teasing him about it, she agrees that the date didn't count since she believes real dates should be mutually consenting from both parties, and Gaster didn't ask either of them before shoving them into an awkward position. The two did become friends, so Muffet became included among Sans's and Papyrus's circle of friends afterwards.

She's one of the few happy to stay in Ebott Town, if only because of her family's bakery and living so close to the mountain where the shadow people roam. She's been sneaking off to the mountain since she learned to walk to try and get glimpses of the monsters supposedly living there and grows excited over any paranormal activity reported to happen near the town. She thinks Sans's relationship with Frisk and Papyrus's with Chara is 'dreamy' and wants her new story she's writing to be a Lovecraftian romance with them as her inspiration.

Grillby: Grillby graduated high school when Sans was entering the 10th grade. He left Ebott Town to go to culinary school but came back just a year later and settled for working as a waiter and assistant chef in Muffet's family's bakery before opening his own restaurant in town. He isn't particularly upset over having to return but he doesn't like the endless stream of gossip that surrounds a person whenever they leave and eventually come back to Ebott. Grillby has an unbelievable amount of patience, but one of the fastest ways to make it wear thin is to question Sans on his own return in his presence. He's one of the few that knows the entire truth about Sans's situation and is quick to dismiss the busybodies from looking for more gossip fodder.

Sometimes after Sans and Gaster have an argument, Grillby will open up his home to Sans and allow him to stay until he's cooled enough. He makes sure Sans eats properly during those times and lends an understanding ear. When he was younger, he was frequently picked on for his large round glasses he had to wear and his overall nerdy appearance. Now that he's older and considered handsome by most that see him, he feels uncomfortable about accepting compliments related to his appearance.

Mettaton: He dreams of one day leaving Ebott Town and becoming a star. Together with his cousin Blooky, his neighbor Shyren, and a bored fast food employee with nothing better to do who wants to leave this town as much as the next guy, he formed a band. Mettaton performs lead vocals, Blooky is the composer, Shyren is backing vocals, and Burgerpants is their lyricist. The problem is, Burgerpants has trouble becoming inspired and gets writer's block often. So until Burgerpants can come up with something original and groundbreaking, Mettaton and the band are stuck making cover of various songs and uploading them on the internet. Even so, he refuses to give up on the band.

His name isn't actually Mettaton - it's his stage name. He got it from the angel Metatron and thought it was something unique and 'fabulous enough for him', but he misread it. Even after learning of his typo he won't correct it. He loves his stage name so much, he had his name legally changed to Mettaton and only responds to this name - if called his old name, he'll pretend he can't hear you. Since Sans came back to Ebott, Mettaton has tried persistently to get him to join his band, but Sans hasn't become that desperate yet.

Asgore: He runs a gardening and flower store in the town, but he's also the town's mayor. It's fortunate Ebott Town was already named when he entered office, otherwise he may have bestowed the town with an even more uncreative name. He's widely beloved by the citizens of the town to the point that many say he's one of the only bright sides to being stuck there. Like his wife, he loves Ebott Town and while he can't blame or place fault in the ones that want to leave, it does deeply sadden him to hear how much someone wants to leave town or watch someone leave.

Being Gaster's close friend and confidant, he knows about his family troubles. Like Toriel, he doesn't like that there's any conflict between them at all, but he's more sympathetic towards Gaster and his various attempts to reconcile with Sans than his wife is. After an argument has occurred, sometimes it's Asgore that Gaster goes to for comfort and reassurance that he isn't a bad father, and yet at the same time, Gaster will vehemently argue with Asgore whenever he attempts to assuage his fears as a parent.

W.D. Gaster: Gaster was a wealthy man with a loving wife and two sons who lived in a city far away from Ebott Town. After losing his wife, he decided to move to escape the pain. He decides to move to Ebott Town after receiving a letter from his old friend Asgore and continue his work there. He heard Ebott was a dead end town and nearly everyone wants to leave for somewhere greater, but he wanted to make the place more populated through his scientific work and later his oldest son's. He made many successes in bringing Ebott more up to date with the modern world, having solar panels installed on every house along with several other widespread achievements, but no matter how hard he worked, people still wanted to leave.

He's still presently working on improving the town with science alongside Alphys, but since the rift in his relationship with Sans formed, he has lost most of his passion. He's loved science since he was a boy, but he discovers that he loved it more when Sans was having fun with science with him. Only, Gaster is poor with words, and he can't properly express his feelings of emptiness and guilt to Sans. Sans still feels bitter and does everything to avoid and spite him in his hurt, which leads to more tension between the two. He wonders if his relationship with his oldest son is beyond repair now. He wants to make amends, but he doesn't know how or if it's even possible anymore.