#forces. so they do what they did in school when they needed an outlet for their anger and found the most vulnerable kid they could

[megapteraurelia]

wildflower — your first time stepping foot into karasuno's gymnasium.

summary | delinquent!reader having to join karasuno's volleyball club and— ugh, did she really have to? warnings | cursing, smoking, light mentions of alcohol word count | 3731. a/n | hii! this is going to be a series of one-shots about female delinquent!reader and how things probably will develop, as well as the many firsts she's gonna experience! summin' like that! yep! (any mistakes are yours to keep~) please let me know what you think! if...you think anything about it at all heh -` ♡ ´-

“Stop right there, young lady!”

You were seething underneath the silence you had to carry around as if it belonged to you; as if it wasn’t forced upon you, wasn’t stuffed down your throat with the words If you dare to butt in, I will personally make sure you regret my ignoring you until now. 

You wanted to yell, break the vases in the hallway, smash your fists into the wall repeatedly until you couldn’t focus on anything else but the cuts on your knuckles, the feeling of the blood staining your skin, leaving you with an outlet for your anger. So, really, your mother should count herself lucky that all you did was whirl around and level a glare at her. However, you did make sure to amplify your feelings with that one glance, so she knew exactly the type of words that went through your head without having to say them out loud and speak them into existence.

Your mother, Mrs. Top-Lawyer-of-her-Firm, had a lot of experience with clients trying to intimidate her, so she should not have had such a hard time schooling her face into a careful, blank mask. Except she did. With you, she always did. 

Her mouth thinned, lips pressed together until the skin around it turned white, left eye twitching slightly, her eyebrows pulled together so violently that you subconsciously noted that none of the eye creams she was going to buy were going to rid her of those wrinkles. 

Good, you thought bitterly. At least something to remember me by.

“You dare have the nerves to look at me like that?” she snarled, her heels sharp and shrill on the empty hallway that would be filled with students in approximately 13 minutes, “Do you realise how much you’ve embarrassed me? How humiliated I looked in there, staring into the face of that good-for-nothing principal, telling him that your silly little drawings on the school’s wall was just you acting up, trying to beg him for one more chance?”

You didn’t answer, only continued staring at her hard, fingernails cutting into the inside of your hand from how harshly you were balling your fist. You never asked her to do any of this for you, learned a long time ago that you couldn’t count on her the way you had wished to, the way you had needed to, so why was she pretending like she was god-sent? Like you should grovel before her with a smile on your face? Like she did you such a huge favour that all of her shortcomings over the years were forgiven? 

You would much rather be expelled than owe her anything. 

“Answer me, goddamn it.”

“I thought I was told to keep my trap shut,” you pressed out through gritted teeth, jaw aching from the continuous strain, voice as venomous as you could muster up, “though, I’m sure that only applies to when you deem it appropriate.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, movement caught your attention, and you wished that she had actually gone through with her initial reaction of wanting to hit you instead of restraining herself. At the very least then you’d have a reason to pack your bags and leave, to never look back and see where the future would take you, away from her expectations, away from her pressure, away from her not understanding you and only punishing, only ignoring.

Lies. You’re too scared.

Well, it didn’t matter anyway, you thought angrily, because your mother didn’t hit you. She only sighed; her entire form seemed to collapse in on itself, even though she physically didn’t allow her back to crook, even though her shoulders were still pushed back. 

Even though you knew her only as cold as ever, for a split second, she seemed frail and tired.

“Listen,” she sighed, her voice still holding remnants of anger but her face looking weird and you didn’t know what to think about that, so this time you did look away; down to the floor, and only focused on the aggravation you could make out dripping from her words, “I don’t really care to convince you, or try to drill it into your thick skull, because chances are that you still will not understand. This will be your last chance, and you know I don’t like repeating myself.”

Your hands opened up slightly, the pain rushing in when you finally stopped holding your flesh prisoner with your nails. You were glad she continued talking, because what the fuck were you supposed to say to all that?

“So, I will keep it simple: there will be no allowance anymore — “

Not like you cared. You’d just take money from your parent’s wallets.

“ — and until further notice, I will also stop paying for your swimming classes until you get back on track.”

Silence.

No.

“Y— You can’t do that,” you gasped, heart stuttering at what you just heard, “you can’t do that.”

“I can and I will,” her voice was hard, and you hated her. Struggling with keeping your breath quiet, you looked at her, really looked at her. She glanced away for a second before returning your gaze calmly, but her shoulders were tight and your throat was tight, your neck, your chest, your lungs, you can’t breathe, and how do I breathe? 

Wasn’t it funny? 

You had air all around you, yet there was no place you could breathe better than when you were submerged in water, all senses cut off, peaceful, no outside world, just you and your bubble. 

Now that bubble popped, threatening to take away your only reprieve in this world.

“I don’t care how much you want to destroy everything around you, or how much you think your little rebellion will get you attention, I will not have my daughter embarrass me by dropping out of high school. So. Starting tomorrow, you will attend every class, write every test, and attend an extracurricular activity to rack up at least some of those points your absences caused.”

Your breathing was shallow, fingers sandwiching your school uniform, wishing you could rip it off, wishing you could throw it into her face. You felt your nose starting to run, an uncomfortable tickle in the back of your airways, but you didn’t want to sniff, you did not want to cry. Your eyes dropped to the floor, tracing the lines, your view slowly filling up against your wishes regardless.

Your mother clicked her tongue, disapproving, then started to move past you, though stopped at the very last second. You didn’t look up so you didn’t see what expression she wore, but you felt her step closer, leaning forward. Your neck grew so taut you thought it was going to snap like violin strings under duress, but she didn’t touch you. You were glad she didn’t because what would you have done if she did? What would have possessed you?

A sniff. 

Her voice was low, but with how close she was to you, you heard her loud and clear, “Get that stink off you before you come home. You know I hate cigarettes.”

She left, and you had 9 minutes left to compose yourself.

The words stared at you as if to laugh at you, mocking and taunting.

Karasuno High Volleyball Club — Sign-in Sheet

You scoffed. 

What did you care about this stupid sport? Any type of ball game bored you to death, but this school didn’t have a swimming club that you could join, so while yes, you didn’t care exactly what club you ended up in, you couldn’t say you could muster up any excitement seeing that it was volleyball. Not that you could get joyful with anything else, since choosing an extracurricular activity wasn’t done out of your own volition. 

Your brows furrowed as you trudged up the school court to find the gymnasium, shoes kicking up the dust, not caring that you were ripping in little tears at the seam.

You knew that if you continued not taking care of your school stuff, your mother was going to have a fit. A stray thought of yours wished she would, if only to get her to speak to you again. Though, to be fair, neither did you bother to strike up a conversation, so all that wishing was in vain, anyway. And your father, on the other hand? 

You breathed out through your nose harshly. Your father was barely around to know what was happening at home, though you doubted that he would care if he was. The sheet you were holding in your hand crinkled with the force you were squeezing into it.

You didn’t want this. Not a single bit. You wanted to be off somewhere, contemplating drinking yourself to death, not playing the dutiful daughter only to have your mother end up cursing you to hell and back anyway. You doubted that anything could impress her, so it wasn’t even worth trying on that front. Doing it for yourself was also out of the question because none of the subjects in school interested you, none of the teachers understood you, nobody thought to check whether anything was going on, because why would they?

They saw a successful family; they saw money and thought you had everything you wanted.

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself and dug into your bag for a lighter. Slipping a cigarette between your lips, you only sighed in relief when you dragged a deep breath of fumes into your lungs and out into the world. Like ectoplasm, the grey clouds floated up, dissolving into tiny little particles, with no weight, no responsibility, no pressure.

As you took another pull of the white stalk of poisonous herb, you noticed the skin around your fingers red and adorned with little wounds, skin flaking off. 

It was funny. 

Smoking was supposed to be the drug, but being away from the water was giving you more withdrawal symptoms than any tobacco could. 

“Hey! Smoking is not allowed here!”

You ignored the voice and brought the cigarette to your lips again, but before any of the paper touched your mouth, it was ripped off your hands.

“Hey!” you barked, outrageous, whirling around to take the cigarette back, but where your eyes usually met other eyes of the same height, they met shoulders. 

Tall, was the first thing shooting through your mind for a split second, before you stepped closer, a threatening look already settled on your face. You reached for the stub in his hands, but the guy, with his blonde hair pushed back, stomped it out on the ground. 

Incredulous, your mouth opened, “What the fuck? That’s not your shit to take!”

“Oi, brat, I don’t care whether you smoke out on the street or whatever, hell knows I do it too, but this is a school ground and there're other kids around, so have some decency,” he grumbled; an expression settling on his face of exasperation, and he scratched his neck as if he’d rather do anything else than tell somebody off.

“Yeah? And who the fuck do you think you are?” 

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to pick a fight with the first adult you saw, but you couldn’t help it — your fingertips were brimming with nerves, anxiety settling heavy and deep in your chest, and you had needed that smoke to calm down. Except you couldn’t even finish it, and somebody was all in your face about it, so now you had no choice but be in their face, instead. 

You could tell this guy disliked it because he was staring you down like he was used to staring down unruly kids. But you weren’t an unruly kid, you hated the look of pretentiousness in his eyes as if he knew better just because he was an adult. He didn’t know anything about you so you couldn’t help yourself, jibing again, “Never seen a teacher with that ugly of a hair colour — ”

“ — God help me, I hate kids — “

“ — so I’m gonna go ahead and guess that you aren’t one and if you aren’t, then—”

“No, but I am.”

Your brows furrowed at the new voice butting in, and you threw a side glance to the entrance of the gym hall, where the squeaking of shoes and the collisions of plumply inflated balls on the floor and against hands had grown less. 

At the open gymnasium door stood the teacher; his dark hair short with glasses balanced on his nose. He was looking at you calmly, his gaze serious. Behind him, through his hands stemmed on his hips, another open pair of eyes looked through, a whiff of orange catching your eye as the middle schooler got yanked back (with somebody mutely growling in the back: “Get back here, dumbass, we’re not done with practice. I’ll kill you if you run away again when I just set the ball to you, Hinata idio—” before the voices became mumbles in the background).

“You must be the new manager of the Volleyball Club,” he said, looking at his watch, “You should have been here 45 minutes ago.”

You shrugged with your shoulders, a glare still plastered on your face because shouldn’t he be happy that you decided to turn up regardless? 

You could have just ditched the practice the way you wanted to, could have tried to intimidate the teacher into not letting it slip to the principal that you didn’t intend to keep to your word — well, not like your word was given. You were sure that somewhere in the law, being forced like that counted as coercion, and you didn’t actually have to keep to it. 

But here you were, so why was he looking at you so disapprovingly? Why was that the only expression that adults were capable of when watching you?

“Oi! Back in there, rascals! This ain’t a circus show,” the blonde adult stomped towards the door, chasing the members of the volleyball club back inside when another middle schooler, dark-haired with a curl of blonde this time, jumped to look over the teacher’s shoulders. The teacher let stupid blonde smoking guy through, and then it was only him and you. 

He held out his hand and gestured to the crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but you made no move to accommodate him. If he wanted the stupid piece of paper, he could get it himself. 

You thought that maybe he was going to order you to, the way other teachers always used to, but he only sighed and stepped closer to you, gently prying the sheet from your fingers. Smoothing it out, his eyes scanned the words that you had scrawled and you were surprised he was quick to understand the name you had reluctantly written down.

“It’s nice to meet you, manager-san. I’m Takeda, and officially the coach for this club.” He bowed slightly but didn’t seem disgruntled when he found you not reciprocating the respect at all, “Truthfully, the principal has already let me know about your situation, so I know that this isn’t where you want to be. I’m sorry you’re forced to attend. But since there isn’t really a way around it, let’s make this time worthwhile so you don’t have any regrets at the end of the school year, yes?”

You didn’t answer, and you were glad he didn’t seem like he expected one from you, which was good, because — because what are you supposed to say? I’m glad you realise how sucky this situation is? I would rather be anywhere else? I wish you would stop looking at me like there’s more I’m supposed to do?

None of this cut it, so you pressed your lips together, tried to intensify your glare to keep your confusion and fear at bay, and just stared at him. Now what?

Takeda looked like he considered saying something else, but then sighed again — you hated that sigh, you hated all the emotions he conveyed without telling you, you hated how much you read into it, you hated how much you cared about what that sigh meant — and nodded towards the gymnasium.

“Let’s go, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the bunch.”

He moved in, and you wished you had a cigarette to puff on if only to calm your nerves. Meeting other people had never been your forte, and even though it wasn’t like you really cared, you didn’t want to have to continuously be around them, feel it in their gazes that they disliked you and judged you as if they were some goody two shoes, better than you, less baggage than you. So you took a deep breath, and built brick after brick around you slowly, carefully, creating a puppet around you with an ugly mask.

Let them hate what they looked at, then at least you knew it wasn’t you.

Takeda waited at the door, and then you shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket before stepping behind him into the hall. The smell was that of rubber, of sweaty teenage boys, of varnish on the wooden floor. The noises quieted down for a second, before the blonde guy’s voice reminded them to continue practicing, so the commotion continued. 

Silently, you observed the people standing in the room, nails scratching the skin around your fingers. Standing next to the playing field was the blonde adult who had snapped at you about smoking, his hands cupped around his mouth to send some instructions to two other students. Next to him was a girl, black hair pulled back as she took notes in her notebook, and for a second you wondered if that was the original manager they had, and if so, then why the fuck did you have to join this club?

Your brows furrowed further, and when your hostile gaze found the ones of a tall, big guy with hair pulled back into a bun, a scruff growing on his chin, he immediately tensed up, averting his eyes to anything but you. His ears tinged pink as he turned to the two people standing beside him.

“S—Suga…heeelp…please…” 

A silver-haired guy with a shit-eating grin clapped him on the back hard enough for the giant to stumble, and despite his size, he seemed to shrivel up into himself, “What’s the matter, Asahi? You look like she’s gonna eat you alive.”

“I don’t know, this is so...intense...did you see how she looked at me?!”

…what? 

Black short-cropped hair, a huge number 1 sprouting on his back jersey, clapped him on the back too, though much gentler in nature than whoever the Suga guy was. “Asahi, take a deep breath. Nothing happened, you can face more than just a little glare, right?”

“See? Daichi’s got your back. And just remember: you’re a big, scary guy, too,” Suga quipped, playfully nudging the bigger guy, “Show her your intimidating side, come on!”

“I don’t want…to…and hey! I’m not intimidating!! You— you’re the scary one, Suga!”

“Alright, alright, let’s calm down. No one’s scary here. Let’s just focus on the important thing — she’s here to help the team, so we should welcome her, okay? Just act the way you would with us, Azumane-san!”

Suga nodded along with Daichi's words, his tone mockingly serious, hand lifted into a thumbs up: “Right, right, it’s not gonna be…awkward the way you imagine it to be…I think…”

“You think?!”

When the #1 turned around to walk towards where you were standing, you grimaced inwardly. Great. You heard his words, thinking you were to help out, when in actuality, you had planned to just lounge around somewhere in the back of the gymnasium, determined to not talk to anyone. ‘Helping’ sure wasn’t high on your list. If it even was on your list.

You saw his hand come up first, offering it for a handshake, his voice calm and steadfast, eyes just as strong as the lines in his shoulder, “Hey, I’m Sawamura Daichi, the captain of Karasuno High’s volleyball team. It’s good to have you on board alongside Shimizu-san.”

You pointedly didn’t take his hand, eyes roving over his face, scrutinising it with hopefully double the anger than he had patience. Maybe if you were lucky, he could kick you out and you didn’t have to join some club after school anymore. For good measure, you crossed your arms, indicating to him ‘hell if I shake your hand’. 

“Tch. Whatever.”

The hand lowered, but his posture was still relaxed, feet strong on the ground, and you wondered if he would fall if you pushed against him. Your eyes narrowed. When you saw his expression morph into a smile, another small fire started burning in your stomach, and it was weird because that smile wasn’t cutting and had no underlying threat to it, and it made you uncomfortable. He wasn’t glaring back or trying to intimidate you.

He was just smiling, one hand coming up to smooth out the hair on the back of his head, “I get it. Not everyone’s into the whole handshaking thing. But we’re glad you’re here, and I hope we can work well together.”

He bowed slightly, and your knuckles turned white from how hard you were gripping your crossed arms. He can take his friendly demeanor elsewhere because it was not going to work on you. 

He turned around, and before the rest of the teammates could walk over to you to introduce themselves to you, he held them off, talking quietly. You couldn’t hear what he had to say, and even though you told yourself you didn’t care (you really didn’t!), you saw the two shortest students glance towards you, slivers of orange and blonde amongst dark brown spiked hair, and for a second, you wished you could disappear away from their vision. From the openness and the curiosity in their eyes, from the laughter that followed when one attacked the other playfully, from the concentration that overcame their faces once the blonde adult — the coach? — called to them.

But the most you hoped to disappear from was the intense stare following you from one of the students; dark hair falling into his eyes, cradling the ball like it was his child, his face a careful blank mask. 

For a second you thought that your mother could learn a trick or two from this guy.

[snekdood]

part of me still wonders how much the "trans men/mascs are bad" shit is bc of people believing my abusers version of me and then acting like thats all trans men/mascs and instead of ever actually confront me about any of the shit they accuse me of to see my side first of all which I think is important in these situations personally but also they dont want to know my side because I might prove them wrong and they might have to actually back off and then they wouldn't be able to have a scapegoat group of people of the week to hate anymore

[itsjustjackie55]

Bones | Justin Herbert x Reader

Warning: Smut ahead!!! 18+ only MDNI! If you’re uncomfortable reading please do not click continue reading beyond this point!!

A/N: The position they’re in is kind of a prone bone position but it takes place on the sofa so it’s just a little bit different. Kind of got a bit dirty lol. Spooky season is finally hereeee!!! Im sorry this took so long, school started to pick up so I’m sorry, I just finished writing it I also didn’t edit it, I just wanted to get it out to y’all!!

Laying back on the sofa you couldn’t help but love how much cooler it got in cali, football season and fall activities, it’s been a little bit of a difficult start for Justin the ankle and the losses.

Being around the house as he forced himself to get up. You couldn’t stand seeing your boyfriend being moody and annoyed because of the pain and lack of being able to move with his ankle sprain. But you were more than happy to help him with things and support him when he need it.

You loved the man so much you were willing to do just about anything for him. Even if it was just laying with him on the couch and watching scary movies. It was the best thing you loved to do with him. These little moments you spent together, but as the night went on you knew you were getting sick of the snack and couldn’t help but get a little hungry.

Deciding on ordering in pizza for tonight was a good decision. It allowed the both of you to spend more time on the couch cuddling and making out.

Him on his side behind you while you laid on your back. You loved feeling the heat from his chest and the roughness of his hand as it trailed up your hip to your jaw pulling you in deeper.

Feeling him growing hard on your upper thigh you couldn’t help but feel a little cocky about you being the reason for his boner.

Letting out a moan as your grinded on him, you couldn’t help how needy you got for him within the short time span.

You loved him and he loved you but the way he fucks you like he was angry all the time made the sex ten times better.

You loved having sex as outlet for his fustrations.

“J…”

“Angel?”

“Touch me please” you begged

“I already am,” was all he said as he started teasing you putting his hand under your shirt, trailing his way up and squeezing your boob.

“I want more… please handsome,”

“I need it”

Groaning at the way you begged him for more, he gathered himself pulling his shirt you were wearing up to reveal your lack of panties and your chest. He always got just a little lost and breathless seeing you over and over again.

“You’re so beautiful baby”

Blushing at the way he complimented how exposed you were to him, you couldn’t help but feel a slight vulnerable and yet still confident because of the giant man.

He moved on top of you to kiss you but you were ahead of him sucking on his tongue. A sign that you were getting lost in the moment.

Trailing your hands up his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly causing him to moan. He had to give you more, he just knew what he had to do, moving himself lower, leaving kisses and love bites all over your chest until he got to where you needed him most.

Making eye contact with you as he stuck his head deeper between your thighs. Flattening his tongue from your entrance and flicking your clit as he licked up your cunt. Loving the way you moaned his name and looked so exposed for him drove him crazy.

He loved seeing you pinch and tug at your nipples with one hand while the other was still in his hair pulling, and pushing down on his head as you ground you hips onto his face.

He loved the way you tasted to. So sweet like candy. He loved how wet you got for him and how easy it was to get you like this. And the way your perfume lingered, not only did you taste sweet you smelt like it too.

It drove him crazy.

Pulling away from you so he wouldn’t come in his pants was the best option for the both of you.

“Sweets…” was all you could whine.

“I know, I’m sorry gorgeous,”

“Flip over.”

Doing as you were told, Justin sat up on his right knee and planting his left foot on the ground pulling his sweats down to his mid thigh, just enough for him to spring free.

Looking behind you as you placed you legs between his your mouth watered at the sight of him, bright pink tip, cock sticking straight up and hugging his abdomen.

You couldn’t help but giggle when he called you out for staring.

“What are you looking at, my eyes are up here sweetness.”

Moving closer to your ass he couldn’t help himself but slap it, watching it jiggle and turn red when you yelped at the feeling. Moaning after he rubbed the spot he just hit.

He knew how to give you tender loving. Leaning forward, grabbing his dick and pushing it to your entrance, he noticed you tense at the feeling.

“Relax mama,”

“We’ll go slow.”

Hearing his words always made you relax, he truly was gentle and patient with you. Always catering to your needs and making sure you were always content.

Pushing himself further in slowly you both moaned loudly, you gasping for air as he tried pushing deeper, his public bone meeting the edge of your ass.

He loved this position as much as you did.

He loved seeing how your back arched. The way your ass bounced every time he pulled out and thrusted in you rough.

He loved seeing your body glisten underneath him. He loved the way you squeezed around him, he loved how you stopped speaking, too distracted and gone by the feeling. Biting down on one arm and the other pushing and pulling on his hip to keep a pace you loved. He loved taking care of his girl this way.

Getting carried away he pushed his hands to the arch of your back, only making your hips and butt lift more. He couldn’t help but keep slapping your right cheek as he kept thrusting.

You loved it the most, the feeling, the closeness, the rawness of it all, the deep level of intimacy. Twisting your body to try and get a kiss from Justin. He noticed how needy you were for him. Leaning down and pulling you by your neck to meet him halfway.

By now you didnt know how to stop yourself from cumming. You didn’t even know how to announce it to him.

He on the other hand already knew where you were. He could feel you squeezing him.

“Cum for me baby, I got ya”

“Cum in me J”

Moaning at your words, feeling him twitch inside you, he knew he couldn’t last that much longer.

“Come on baby, ladies first, you gotta cum for me first baby.”

Meeting his lips once more you couldn’t keep quiet as you came, moaning his mouth and whimpering his name and a string of cuss words.

Hearing you let go drove Justin to the edge, halting deep inside you, filling you up from behind as you both came down from your high. Collapsing onto your back tilting your head back to kiss him really sealed the deal.

Letting your highs cool down you were a mess. Panting and shaking, you knew you were in love.

Flipping to your side seeing Justin sitting on the other side of the couch, legs spread dick still out and twitching, his arms on the edge of the couch, he was already looking at you. Smiling at him with tired eyes. You both had a night. He looked good too, his cheeks pink and goofy smile plastered on his face.

The both of you giggling because of what you had done. The moment was cut short when the doorbell rang, you had finished up just in time for dinner.

[almmoon006]

Period comfort headcanons (Voldemort's wife reader)

Tw: no; he's kinda far from canon character, I just needed his care really.

• Voldemort is far from the usual understanding of comfort, after all, from early childhood he was left to himself and did not feel the care, love, or even kindness of others. He's not even sure he's capable of love himself, considering he was conceived under a love potion. But when it came to you, it seemed like everything was different.

• You were the wife of the Dark Lord, and every time the Death Eaters wondered how it happened that such a beautiful and powerful witch was bound by magical bonds with the darkest wizard of the century. They didn't know that you remembered him as Tom when he was working after Hogwarts. And even if they had, they wouldn't have believed it, after all, you looked much younger than your years because of the peculiarities of your kind.

• He wasn't sure what he loved. No, it was like a desire to possess, an obsession, which is more typical of this dark wizard. But at the same time, he could be attentive and gentle to you when his mind was not filled with a red veil, and another unforgivable curse was not trembling at the end of the wand. He had a soft spot for you, damn Merlin. But it was a strangely pleasant feeling.

• You were the only one who was able to calm his frequent seizures and you didn't seem to be repelled by his snake-like appearance.

• Therefore, he was extremely angry at such moments of weakness. He was mad at you because, damn it, you (like other women damn it) have this Muggle thing, for himself that he couldn't completely rid you of those damn days, for the whole world that was always against you and him.

• He knew very little about female physiology. Of course, they didn't talk about this at the magic school, but he often saw and heard the older girls talking about something like this when he was a little boy at the orphanage. He also often asked Narcissa for advice, with whom you had such a good relationship.

• It was unpleasant to watch you lying on your big bed and squirming from another convulsion. He felt a chill all over his skin while your face writhed in discomfort like a damn Cruciatus. And it would be better if it really was a spell. At least the dark wizard would know what to do.

• Every month, he forced Snape to brew a potion to reduce pain and a potion to restore strength. Tom saw how pale and depressed you were during your period, so he often used some artifacts to try to improve your well-being.

• Nagini has always been the main outlet. The girl really loved you very much and accepted you as an equal to her master. She seemed to understand you as a woman during your period and was always there for you. The snake wrapped around your body, pressing on all the right places to ease the pain. Her cold, scaly skin felt good against your hot one. The big body was a pleasant weight on them from your stomach, gently pressing and reducing the pain. And the soft hissing soothed and lulled you to sleep.

• You used to sit at the table in the meeting room exactly on the right side, close to the Dark Lord. During your period, you spent all your time in the bedroom, and it was terribly unnerving. If on normal days you were the only one who had at least some control over the magician's anger, then when you weren't around, all the Death Eaters felt a tight tension in the room and were afraid to say too much, so as not to attract the wrath of their master. Voldemort wouldn't admit to being bored, no. No, he's not worried. It was just that your presence made everything bearable.

• He spoiled you. Any whim of yours, as on any other day, in principle, was instantly fulfilled. Voldemort brought you various sweets and delicious dishes just to make you feel better.

• Anyone who made you cry was instantly put under severe Cruciatus. It doesn't matter if something else upset you, and Lucius or Barty just happened to be there, they shouldn't have caused his wife any discomfort.

• You were the only person whose tears made Voldemort feel bad. That's why he tried to treat you kindly and tenderly, because he knew how painful you were feeling these days. Your tears made his heart (which he still had) contract painfully. He just pulled you into his arms and gently stroked your hair, soothing you and rocking you to sleep.

• He bought more and more blankets, fluffy blankets and soft pillows to make you feel comfortable and calm. Plush toys, hot water bottles, small trinkets. He even considered buying you a cat, but decided against it, deciding that sweet Nagini is doing a good job of this role.

• During your period, he tried to get off work as early as possible. A quick shower so that your sensitive nose won't be bothered by the persistent smell of blood, and clean, loose clothes. He would lie down on your bed and pull you as close as possible, wrapping you in a cocoon of his own hands and blankets. Nagini curled up on the other side, gently wrapping around your waist and habitually reducing the pain in your stomach. Voldemort gently stroked your hair, allowing you to snuggle against his chest and inhale his soothing, soap-scented scent.

[tora-the-cat]

A happy ending for Sasuke is literally not even POSSIBLE for basically ALL of Naruto like it's not even funny. He really never even had a CHANCE he has of living a decent life, it's not even on the TABLE, by literally no fault of his own (because he's never done anything wrong). I'm going to scream.

0-6? Forces unbelievably outside of his control are organizing, ensuring, and executing an ethnic cleansing of his entire clan at the hands of his favoritest person in the world. Forces including the shattered psyche of said favoritest person, who tortures him until he is too terrified and traumatized to even think about anything else for years.

7-12? enrolled in Child Soilder School, completely isolated socially (not as a pariah but as a prodigy) befret of any support system, still traumatized beyond belief, and left with no outlet for any of his issues besides obsessing over the day, one day in the future, where Itachi will be dead and all this unresolved suffering and guilt and love and anger and fear and fear and FEAR will go away forever. Right? Because it has to. There has to be an end. Right?

12? Government assigned found family give him the support and love and attention and outlet and for the future that he's been craving for so long he didn't even KNOW it's what he needed. Has a soulmate and a bestie that can read his mind and a mentor who actually is willing to meet him where he's at and help him and maybe even love him and is this......Hope? That perhaps he can have a life outside of what Itachi did to- Itachi. Itach- FUCK. ITACHI IS LITERALLY HUNTING NARUTO FOR SPORT WITH ALL HIS WAR CRIMINAL FRIENDS AND SASUKE SHOULDN'T HAVE LET HIS GUARD DOWN BECAUSE IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW STRONG KAKASHI OR EVEN THE WHOLE VILLAGE IS, ITACHI WILL KILL ANYONE SASUKE IS STUPID AND SHORT SIDED AND CRUEL ENOUGH TO CARE ABOUT, HOW DID HE FORGET, HOW DARE HE FORGET, HE NEEDS TO GET STRONGER HE NEEDS TO AVENGE HIS CLAN HE NEEDS TO FUFILL HIS FRATERNAL DUTY HE NEEDS TO LEAVE BEFORE ANYONE ELSE IS MURDERED BY ASSOCIATION-

13-16? He dropped a lit match on his support system behind him him and ran into the cold shadows of obsessive anger that he only stepped out of long enough to loose the ability to ignore the gnawing want for warmth. That's bad enough, not even taking cohabitating with goddamned OROCHIMARU. No further explanation required there.

17? Kills his brother, gets NONE of the 'benefits' he spent his life convincing (begging) himself must be awaiting at the end. Instead everyhting has, in fact, gotten much worse very quickly and now all he has is a list of powerful people and systems that don't work and hurts and kills and tortures the people they've promised to protect that no one except him will oppose because it's basically suicide, and isn't he already so familiar with being on the shit side of this dynamic? Isn't it the normalest thing in the world, to fill the hole where his vengeance used to be with a hunt with near identical goals and intentions of his first vengance, the only real difference being his increasing dissalussion with ever being able to 'go back home', his almost all comsuming doubt that there's a 'home' waiting for him still, if there ever even was? So he dives into another goal before it goes as cold as the love he doesn't dare indulge, accumulating more power and rage then he knows what to do with (where can he put it down? where can he put it down?) and no reason NOT to challange corruption until it's either all gone or it kills him. Naruto, once the only person who looked at him with empathy instead of pity or expectation, thinks he should grit his teeth and bear it and go back to the village, as if that was ever an option for him. Sakura, once the only person who understood him, who followed his every thought process with ease and loved him even when he thought himself a monster, has finally given up on him and tries to kill him. What can he do but laugh as the world burns? It burned him first.

(but if that was true, then why is he still so cold?)

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

15 - Jake's Resolve

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!) Chapter rated R

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of dark and mature themes including capture, physical, psychological and pharmacological torture. Reader discretion is advised. Do Not read if you feel it may be detrimental to your mental health.

A/N: Jake might be hallucinating a little and Sam goes to chat with someone who will be instrumental in Jake's recovery...should he come home.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891

Playlist

Jake was about done with this torture bullshit. It was for the birds.

They were giving him pain meds, making him feel all sorts of good, and then they would let it fade, and let him go a day or maybe it was hours without, he still wasn’t keeping track. Jake was delirious during the time that he didn’t have the pain medication. The tingling and numbness would radiate up his arms and then settle at his wrists. His shoulder felt like it was being torn out of the socket and his collarbone and the muscles around it hurt like hell from being stretched continuously. Every once in a while, Jake would let out a loud howl of pain, when it became too unbearable, as it would come in waves when he was without pain medication, which would then prompt his captors to come in and pull him down and lay him on the cold concrete floor. It felt good, the coolness of the ground against his skin, which felt feverishly hot. He was probably going to get pneumonia or something. 

They’d let him down at one point, and he fell to his knees and vomited on the floor in front of him almost immediately. Just to add to the humiliation, the man who seemed to be the leader took Jake by his hair and wiped his face through his own puke, which only served to make Jake feel even more sick.

He stunk. His sweat was crusted on his shirt, the salt burning his skin. Bile had dried on his face. He had a gnarly beard and a metallic taste in his mouth that lingered. His whole body hurt. His skin felt dry and papery. His brain was foggy and he felt himself drift in and out of consciousness continuously. He was only wide awake when they shoved water and food down his throat. They hadn’t taken him down to go to the bathroom so he’d peed all over the front of his pants. He hadn’t shit at all because everything just came back up. 

Jake wondered if this was what dying felt like. Was this what Iceman had felt like at the end? Helpless and alone? Surely not to this degree, but mentally...maybe. Jake tried to keep his mind going back to Sam over and over but the bad part of that was when he did, he got hard. There was nothing he could do for that so he just had to suffer. He tried his best to just shut his brain off completely. 

Jake's resolve was fading.

🛩🛩🛩

Sam needed to talk to someone. Someone that understood what might happen when Jake came home. If he did.

Margie was one of Sam’s oldest friends. They’d gone to middle school together and Sam always kept in touch when she moved away and Margie stayed in San Diego, Tierrasanta to be exact. Margie met Ryker, her husband, in the military. Ryker was an Air Force pilot, who’s plane had been shot down in Afghanistan. He had been taken prisoner and tortured for several months. He survived and when he came home he needed someone to look after him and help him get around. Enter Margie. 

Margie trained military and police K9s for a living. As part of Ryker’s healing, she taught him everything he knew about it and now they have a training and breeding operation, still for military and police dogs, but also for veterans who need an outlet and even for families who want protection dogs. Margie couldn’t have children, so the dogs were always enough and Ryker, while he had wanted kids at one point, had decided that Margie and the pups were exactly what he needed. With his medical history, he didn’t feel like raising a child, even if they adopted, was a good idea. 

When Sam headed up the stairs and into the house she was first greeted by a beautiful dark brown dog with pointed black ears and black paws. She wagged her tail, knowing Sam well and remembering her.

“Hi Hanna, sweet girl.” Sam said, kneeling to allow the dog to rub against her. She scratched the dog’s neck and back and Margie appeared, her first instinct was to hug Sam tight. She had spoken to Margie on the phone and had briefly told her what was going on with Jake. Margie guided Sam into the kitchen where Ryker sat. He was a large man with a dark reddish brown beard and piercing mahogany eyes. He looked like a brick shit house, muscles bulging from everywhere. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your fiance, Sammy.” He said, his voice ocean deep. She smiled weakly and Margie offered her a seat. “How can we help?”

“I don’t know...I just know that if he comes home...” Her voice broke and Margie hugged her from behind.

“When...gotta think positive, hun.” Ryker interjected and Sam swallowed hard.

“When...when he comes home...I’m sure he won’t be the same.” She said and Ryker nodded.

“He will be angry. He will have no confidence. He will be broken. That's what can happen with this job...I'm sorry it happened to him. I went through something similar. But if he’s half the man you told Margie...he’ll want to get better for you, sweets. You have to believe in him.” Ryker explained, knowing exactly how Jake would feel, as he'd been through a similar experience.

“I know he won’t give up. I just can't lose him...” Tears had begun to well in Sam's eyes and Margie hugged her, then she headed off into another room. Ryker reached across the table and touched Sam's hand.

“Hun, he's gonna need someone to talk to and that should be you, but sometimes us dudes don't wanna talk about the nitty gritty of war with our ladies...we don't wanna hurt you with the imagery of it...so when he's ready bring him to me and I'll talk to him about the really bad shit.” Ryker said, glancing around for Margie. He clearly wondered where she’d gone. He knew what she was doing but he didn’t know why it was taking her so long.

“I want him to be able to tell me that stuff...” Sam said softly, feeling as though that sentiment meant Jake didn’t trust her, when she knew he did.

“And I'm sure he will...down the line...but he's not gonna wanna terrify you. It can be pretty gruesome, Sammy...” Ryker said, squeezing her hand.

“My dad...” She said and then Ryker interjected swiftly.

“Told you some things, but never everything.” He said and Sam nodded.

“Yeah...” She said, agreeing that there were probably plenty of things that Ice had kept from her, to protect her.

“That’s how your Jake is gonna be...he won’t want to tell you all the real bad shit. There’s still a couple missions I never told Margie about because they were too horrifying, even for me to re-live now, even though I’ve come to terms with everything that happened to me.” He affirmed, and Sam glanced at him with furrowed brows. She winced slightly, thinking of what Jake could be going through right now. In all honesty, she couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t imagine him being tortured, being beaten half to death. She couldn’t imagine him taking that kind of abuse. But then again, if he wanted to stay alive and come home, maybe it was what he had to do. 

Margie brought two puppies in from another room and placed one in Sam’s arms. The other she held and the little puppy gnawed on her fingers gently. Sam tilted her head, wondering why Margie had done this.

“I know what helped me get better...I know what’ll help Jake get better...we wanna give you these two puppies. And I know they’ll suggest he sees a therapist or talks to someone who works with veterans and POWs. He can come every week and bring the puppies. It’ll be the best outlet for him. And it’ll only be better for you because if he can get better, he’ll be back up in a plane or he’ll be teaching others to fly and you’ll want something at home that can protect you just as well as Jake when he’s deployed.” Ryker explained and Sam's eyes went wide as she hugged the squirming puppy.

“Oh my god, no, Margie, Ryker, I can’t just take them. I’ll pay you. This is part of your business.” Sam said, shaking her head and glancing down at the puppy. She was a pretty black coated pup, and dainty, but she seemed fiesty nonetheless.

“It’s no problem. We donate a few puppies a year to veterans or departments looking for dogs. We wanted to donate these two to you...and also think of them as a wedding present too.” Margie said, handing her the other puppy. He settled into Sam’s arms quietly.

“God...this is so generous...you guys are amazing. I don’t know what Jake will say, but I know he gets along with Rocco, and you know how Rocco is.” Sam said, thinking of how Rocco liked Jake from the start. That was rare for Rocco, as he didn’t trust any strangers. He barely let Nat come into the house sometimes. 

“Bring Rocco too if you want. We can teach him some fun tricks.” Ryker said with a smile.

“I absolutely will. Thank you, again. I’ll keep you updated on Jake.” Sam said and she got ready to depart, feeling a little more at ease with everything. Now she had something to focus on other than worrying about whether or not Jake was coming home. She needed to focus on work and the puppies, and maintaining a belief that Jake would come home and that he’d be okay in time. She knew he wouldn’t be okay now, but with time, he would.

Sam left with the puppies in tow. They were both black Malinois puppies, not a common color for the breed, but Ryker and Margie didn’t breed for color. Margie bred for personality, athletic ability and willingness to work. They needed to be ultimately loyal to their handler and protect the families they lived with. The puppies walked nicely by Sam’s side, one on either, and she debated taking them back to Jake and Javy’s first, or home to get Rocco, or straight to the pet store. 

She decided to get Rocco first. She didn’t want to leave him out and she figured a good place to introduce him to the puppies would be on neutral territory, even though Rocco was great with other dogs. He was mostly her dog after all even though he lived at home while she’d been at college. She had been so sad that she couldn’t take him, but happy when she came home to the little guy.

When she arrived back at the house, there was a stillness that filled the air. An emptiness that she hated. No one was home. Her mother was out with her brother and sister at after school activities, so she always left Rocco to roam the house by himself. He had the whole place to himself too, but he mostly occupied the couch and his bed by the front window or the one by the back door. That was where the sun came in. 

Entering the house, she took the puppies out to the backyard immediately and set them free so they could do their business. Rocco followed dutifully, barking a few times at them, but not throwing forth much effort to bother the pups. He was just two years old so he still had a bit of a playful attitude, but he was also a very mature dog himself. He watched them from the deck, at Sam’s feet. He wagged his tail as they came closer, wiggling his long body back and forth. Sam knelt down to run her hand over the little red dog’s back and he glanced up at her with a whine. 

“These are your new brother and sister. The boy is called Ballast and the girl is called Muster. And don’t worry, you’re still the favorite, buddy.” she said and Rocco whimpered and then headed down the stairs to have a run with the pups, who happily obliged.

🛩🛩🛩

They had the reconnaissance they needed. A week or so had passed, and they’d received more videos of Jake in captivity. They’d had to watch as his captors broke his ribs, as they knocked him unconscious with the butt of a rifle, and as they stripped him of his flight suit, leaving him in his boxer briefs and his nasty, no longer white t-shirt. 

“I can’t watch this shit anymore. When are we leaving?” Bradley turned to Maverick, who was assessing the last video feed. Part of their recon had to be centered on how poor Jake’s condition was. He was obviously run down, definitely dehydrated, and most likely sick or on the verge of getting sick. His body was taxed, beyond G-force and harsh conditions. They would need to be careful when transporting him. They also weren't aware of his mental state. 

They were going in with Marines and Nat, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Omaha, and Fritz would fly air support with a rescue helicopter. Maverick, Bradley, and Coyote would be in the chopper with the Marines and a medic. They were more extra hands to move Jake more than anything as they only had training with a pistol and hand-to-hand combat. Halo, Harvard, and Yale would stay on the carrier as back-up support. The medic was bringing a back board to put him on, surmising he wouldn't be able to walk. From the videos, they believed Jake had lost a significant amount of weight, and he had several broken bones, so moving him anywhere and quickly was going to be difficult. 

Everyone headed to their stations, the helicopter waiting on deck for Bradley, Javy, and Mav. As they boarded, Nat and Bob headed over to wish them luck and they did the same for them. Bradley checked his pistol quickly and he gave a look to Mav that said he meant business.

“I don't like that look, Rooster.” Mav yelled over the sound of the rotors whirring. 

“It's the only one I've got, Mav.” He yelled back and Maverick smiled wider at him and patted him on the shoulder as he also checked his pistol. 

🛩🛩🛩

Jake groaned in agony, the muscles in his shoulders aching, feeling very much like they were being ripped from the bones. He continually reassessed his injuries, trying to settle in his thoughts. Breathing was laborious with his broken ribs. Every time his lungs expanded, stabbing pain shot through his mid-section, so he tried his best to take smaller breaths. His wrists were raw from the cuffs, beginning to bleed now up by his palms. 

He hung his head, the smell of vomit, blood, and sweat thick in his nostrils. He'd become accustomed to it now. His captors had left him alone now for several days...maybe...at least Jake thought it was several days. There was very little light that came in through the place he was being held. Everything was grey and stone like, cold and unforgiving. The last time he had water was...a while ago...and the last food he'd had came back up almost as soon as it hit the top of his stomach. He was dizzy, and keeping his eyes shut was the only thing helping the massive headache he had. His head felt like it was being split in two, right down the middle. Dehydration looked fucking terrible on him. His thoughts, despite it all, continuously centered on one thing.

Sam .

You're more beautiful than an afterburner at night.

You've made me the man that I should've always been, in the short time we've been together. 

I would die for you...but...I can’t do that because I have to live for you. I need to live for you.

If you only knew this hell I'm going through, it might terrify you. God, if you only knew how much I fucking miss you. 

Maybe you do know...maybe you have this telepathic line to my thoughts and you know exactly what I'm thinking. You know exactly how much I want to be with you right now. How fucking terrible I feel. I feel like this is all my fault. 

Can't think like that, Jake. Gotta stay positive. They will come find you. They will. They will. Bradley promised. Mav promised. Nat promised. They will find you. 

God, Samantha, I miss you. 

Miss everything about you. You're beautiful smile and the way you speak, so fucking sure of yourself. Those pretty brown waves that fall over your shoulders, or across your back when you're laying in bed. Fuck...I love every damn bit of you.

I love kissing your neck. I love the way you kiss me back. I miss the way you run your fingers through my hair. Ugh it feels so good. I love how you look at me when I fuck you...God do I miss being inside you. You're the best I've ever had, baby girl. The absolute best. 

And I fucking miss you so much.

Jake felt the sting of tears and he blinked a few times, as his head pounded harder. Not only was he crying from the pain but he was crying from how badly he missed Sam. He just wished he was home with her, cuddling under the sheets, the ocean breeze coming in through the balcony door, the smell of the salty air refreshing and calming.

The feel of her soft and warm skin beneath his rough, calloused palms...

Suddenly, there was commotion somewhere beyond his location. He heard gunshots and grunting, the sounds of struggle and screaming in a foreign language. Jake's heart sped up and his jaw clenched tight as he moved his head to look at the door where his captors normally entered.

There in the doorway, stood a man, in black tactical gear, pointing a rifle into the room. Behind him, a familiar face.

“Rooster, what the fuck took you so long? I'm dyin’ here.” Jake rasped, his own voice barely recognizable through the exhaustion and dryness present in his vocal chords. The man in tactical gear radioed back to what Jake presumed was the boat. He heard more fighting and gunfire and then everything ceased. A medic appeared and with him, Maverick and Coyote to help pull Jake from his restraints.

“Area secure. Target found, alive. Bringing him home.” The man said, pushing Rooster through the door. “Better hurry, they'll know we're coming in t-minus two minutes and they'll be pretty pissed we didn't bring any uranium to exchange.”

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

November 12 - Moving Staircase & November 16 - Hospital Wing | word count: 893 | @wolfstarmicrofic

There is something inherently wrong with the scene before him. There is no reasonable explanation for it. Which means, he is imagining all of it. Because why else, would Sirius Black—who can out-magic almost everybody at this school—be lying in the hospital wing, looking like he… like he…

This should never be something Remus has to witness. He is supposed to be the one lying broken in a bed of the hospital wing. He isn’t supposed to see one of his friends with their arms twisted at awkward angles and their faces black-and-blue. So why, is he standing over the bed, looking down at Sirius who looks as though he got into a fight with a centaur and lost?

Madam Pomfrey left almost two hours ago now, with promises Sirius would wake soon, and yet there are no signs of him so much as stirring. He is certain the crescent moons on his palms will be there permanently from how long he has been clenching his fist.

Then suddenly, Sirius’ eyes flutter open and the rest of the world falls away. Remus never found himself focused on Sirius eyes—there are so many other wonderful parts of him—but right now, he clings to them like a lifeline. They are open, and though he can see a tinge of pain the crinkles around them, they are open. Sirius is awake, and everything is going to be okay.

“Moony?” He croaks, trying to shift in bed, before wincing and giving up the effort.

“Who did this to you?” He finds himself demanding without any preamble.

“Huh?”

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you, because I’m going to make sure they get what they deserve.”

“And what is that exactly?” Sirius asks, eyes hungry, almost predatory.

“They are going to get what they gave to you. Now, who did it?”

He hates this. He hates being violent, and he hates that seeing Sirius like this brings out the violence in him. But he doesn’t try to tamp it down. Not now, not when rage is flowing through him and needs some kind of outlet. Not when Sirius has his full attention on him, and doesn’t appear to be looking away any time soon.

“Well, I fear that would be counterintuitive. Bit Romeo and Juliet, yeah?”

“I—what?” Remus asks, heart stumbling at the comparison between them and lovers.

“You want to hurt the person who did this to me, so you shove me down the stairs. Then, you would be the one to hurt me so you would have to fling yourself down the stairs.”

“Sirius, what are you going on about?”

Suddenly sheepish, Sirius ducks his head, clearly trying to hide the bright red flare along his neck and cheeks.

“Sirius…”

“Ifelldownthestairs.”

“You—”

The door to the infirmary bursts open, swinging back closed from the force with which I hits the wall. Without looking, Remus knows exactly who it is. And the guilt and dread pools even heavier in his gut. Merlin, how could he have forgotten about James and Peter? Especially James. He was being too selfish and wrapped in his own head to think about the others. How can they forgive him now? He knew about their best friend being in the hospital wing unconscious, and didn’t mention it at all? What a twisted way to lose friends than betrayal?

“What happened?” James exclaims, hitting the side of Sirius’ bed so hard it skids a bit.

His voice catches in his throat. He wants to shrink. He wants to disappear. He doesn’t deserve to be here, getting between two best friends, two soulmates. He is an intruder in this friendship, and it needs to be him who takes leave.

“Fell down the stairs” Sirius says with a smirk, the embarrassment completely gone from his face. Of course, he wouldn���t be embarrassed telling his ‘other half’ what happened. How can you be embarrassed in front of the person who would do anything for you? Remus on the other hand? Remus is the embarrassment.

He stands, managing to take a few steps before Sirius’ voice lures him back. “Moony? What are you going?”

He swallows passed the lump in his throat. “Just going to get Madam Pomfrey. She needs to do some tests now that you are awake.”

Before he can make a bigger embarrassment out of himself, he keeps walking. He walks out of the infirmary, down the corridor, down several flights of stairs. He walks away. As far away as he can get. As he is walking, he catches a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye. A notebook. It’s peeking out the corner of a hidden alcove, but Remus can spot the S.O.B on the corner.

Scooping up the book, he flips through. Inside, there are hundreds of small sketches. Views of the rolling grounds, animals, some tattoo ideas, even some random nonsense shapes. But overwhelmingly, the sketchbook is filled with… him. His far too knobby hands, his crooked nose with a deep scar, his eyes, his face buried in his sweater. And on the last page, the drawing Sirius must have been working on when he fell…

A close up of his face, each detail worked on in intense detail.

Remus drops to his knees, ignoring the harsh crack against the ground, and sobs.

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud|Part 2|Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: I hope you guys liked part one, I've seen few people write a yandere All Might so I've honestly been enjoying this. A darker version of the number one hero is something I live for. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.

===============================================

"Hero name, Shade, real name unknown, the agency is some low ranked hero, and her popularity is basically non-existent. Just some debuting hero with not much to claim under her belt." Nighteye finished his presentation by meeting All Might's eyes. The Symbol of Peace had been more irritable than normal, to keep him in a good mood he had to go alone with what he asked.

"Did she go to any major schools that could make her easy to recognize?"

"None that I could found, just some basic school where they pump out a handful of heroes from time to time. Nothing special."

"Utterly unremarkable eh?"

"It would seem that way."

"Which is exactly what I need."

"Why this one? Why all of a sudden have you gone into this state again?"

"You know how I operate, find someone who's just coming out, not popular enough to be given a second thought should they vanish."

"Then why a hero, why not a civilian."

"Because I simultaneously keep down any future competition. The old pros are no match for me, but some newbie could rise up and take everything I've worked for right out from under me."

Nighteye sighs, he's tried reasoning with him before, but it was never any use. All Might was set in his ways and if it meant keeping his need for absolute domination to a semi-healthy outlet then he would support him in any way he could. The world needed its Symbol, that image had to be preserved for the good of mankind. That was his job.

"Fine. But I would appreciate it if you could at least keep the mess to a minimum if things go south."

All Might doesn't answer, he doesn't need to. Both of them know he doesn't make promises he can't keep.

==============================================

Over and over Shade had replayed the previous days events in her mind. To get to speak with the Number One hero in person was an honor most didn't get to receive, however most of the interaction felt like All Might was just being polite, clearly he didn't think she was all that impressive.

But she had to keep trying, one day her number of victories would go up, and she would gain enough of a following that even All Might would have to take her seriously. Climb to the top of the charts and then look down on all of those who thought she was just another wannabe hero, she was going to make something of herself.

So lost in thought she didn't hear the villain sneaking up behind her.

===============================================

All Might watched from a safe distance while the villain he had hired approached his soon to be damsel. The first step in his plan was to make her feel unsafe, and that fate had destined them to be together with him as her sworn guardian of all harm. She would admire him more, let her guard down, and then he'd live happily ever after. Eventually getting tired of and discarding her when he was done of course.

The villain believed that All Might would pay him handsomely and then leave him to be free to do as he wished. Little did he know that the Symbol of Peace planned to take him in like any criminal, making sure he had no proof except word of mouth for the hired job, and things would carry on just like they always had.

He was an alright villain anyway, approaching too hastily, going for the stereotypical crime of robbing a woman's purse. Honestly, he could've done better himself if he was supposed to embody peace and justice. But she was getting scared enough that was for sure, so Toshinori made his move and stepped in.

"Have no fear citizen, you are safe now." He stands tall. "Now that I am here that is."

"All Might-!? Jeez, I better get out of here!" His acting was so terrible Toshinori had to stifle a laugh. That's what he got for digging in the bottom of a barrel.

"Not so fast evil-doer! I will not allow you to get away unpunished for frightening and attacking a poor woman!"

The thug truly believed All Might was still playing along, until his fist connected with enough force to throw the man in the wall and render him unconscious.

"Glad that's over quickly, such a small villain would dare to come against a defenseless woman like that, what a diabolical fiend."

He could see the look of admiration and gratefulness in her eyes, such a small favour really had an impact on this one.

"I'd recognize that fangirl look anywhere! Ms. Shade was it?"

"You remembered...?"

"Of course I did, not too often anymore I see a newbie with that much talent! I'm glad to have saved you my dear!"

"Yes, thank you-"

"Not to worry, I always help those in need, hero or civilian alike-!" He picks up the discarded body of the villain. "Now it seems I have to take care of this one before he wakes up with a nasty headache."

"O-Oh, yeah, of course, you have somewhere to be-"

The disappointment in her voice made All Might smile just a hint wider.

"Until we meet again Ms. Shade-!" He flies off, not wanting to risk the villain regaining consciousness and exposing what he had done. But he had a feeling this punk wouldn't talk even if he wanted to.

"Now let the fun begin."

[coalswriting]

calming the storm - natalie scatorccio

summary – (y/n) knows that natalie has it hard at home. after an argument with a teammate, the blonde finally breaks down (approx 1.2k words)

a/n - decided to keep this a little more on the platonic side but i could definitely do a part 2 to this with a more romantic continuation if there's demand :))

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you knew natalie never had it easy at home. she wasn’t one to talk about her feelings, but you could tell. every time you two hung out, she would never let you drop her off at the door of her trailer, instead insisting you leave her at the entrance of the caravan park. you also always noticed her longing looks towards your parents as they would show affection throughout the house. sometimes, even, natalie would show up to school with some bruising on her face. you never would question it as you could see the pleading look in her eye that screamed ‘please don’t’. so, you never did.

the rumours circulated by other students was enough for you to get a brief understanding of what natalie went through at home, and though you weren’t one to believe gossip, it checked out. she looked miserable at school, but she would look even worse when you’d drop her home. like she wanted to be anywhere but there, and damn, you wish you could help her – rescue her, make her smile a bit wider, anything.

there was one place where natalie shined, and that was on the field at soccer practice. she always went all out, assaulting her teammates with her skill. it was a great outlet for her emotional turmoil and negative pent-up feelings. during a match, natalie was a force to be reckoned with, and you could see that more than anyone else.

you always sat and watched her practice, not only because you were close to her, but because you genuinely admired her as a person and everything she did. you loved her strength; there was something inspirational about her.

you watched from the bleachers as jackie split the yellowjackets into two teams. natalie smiled, high fiving van when they were placed on the same team together. your mind wandered as you thought about your history test earlier that day; how natalie chewed the tip of the pen you had lent her for the evening. normally the action of chewing a pen disgusted you, but you didn’t mind because it was her – it was natalie. you definitely had a soft spot for her, and if chewing helped her focus, you would let her chew all your pens without question.

natalie glanced up catching your staring, causing a familiar heat to grow up the back of your neck. she looked at you, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, and you peered over to see what question she was stuck on.

nat looked like a saint, illuminated by sunlight that peeked through the windows. dust particles floated in the air around her, like snowflakes, accentuating her defined jawline and plump lips. you shook your intrusive thoughts about your friend out of your head, instead opting to whisper the answer to the question to her. it was barely audible, but she read your lips, smiling thankfully, before writing down the answer.

your heart fluttered as you thought about it, it was so impossible not to like natalie – not to love natalie.

suddenly, you were snapped out of your dream-like haze by the sound of arguing. peering over towards the team, you saw nat get shoved by another girl. jackie stepped in between the two of them, trying to break up the fighting before it could escalate to no avail. “you need to back off, whore!”, the girl growled, hostility dripping out of every word she spoke.

natalie looked shocked for a second, processing the acrid title assigned to her before yelling back, “i’m just playing the fucking game! the point is to steal the fucking ball, or did you completely miss that before signing up to the team?”

the two kept going back and forth, and you stood up to aid jackie. the rest of the girls jogged over, ready to diffuse the situation. before she could stop herself, the girl burst out a, “what is some trailer trash like you even doing playing this sport?”, with every comment, you noticed natalie freeze up more and more, “i’m not surprised that your parents don’t love a slut like you!”

suddenly, the entire team fell deathly silent; you couldn’t even feel the light spring breeze anymore. before you could react, natalie turned on foot and stormed away, jaw clenched tightly. you could only call her name as you briskly jogged after her.

 after about forty-five seconds, you caught up to your blonde friend. she leaned against a wall in a corner outside the changing rooms, limbs shaking while fat tears streamed down her face.

“hey, nat… it’s okay…”, you barely whispered as your best friend slid down the wall, not caring in that moment about how dirty her uniform would get. you sat next to her as she hugged her knees tightly, body trembling. “can i touch you?”

your friend could only nod, too caught up within her breakdown to verbalise her thoughts. you tenderly placed a hand on her upper arm, rubbing soothingly.

after a moment, natalie looked up at you, jaw shaking. she looked like a kicked puppy. you pulled her in for a hug. her quivering body was fragile against your own, and you wished you could calm the storm in her head. “nat, you don’t know how much i admire you…”, you started, “you’re one of the strongest people i know. you don’t have to tell me anything now, but i care for you so much. i’m concerned for you.”

you kept droning on and on mindlessly, talking about anything you could think of. after a few minutes, natalie’s breathing calmed down a little, causing you to smile to yourself. she melted into your hug, still completely quiet other than her slightly laboured breaths. the two of you just sat there, against the wall. after a while, you began to play with her hair, combing your fingers through it and braiding it.

finally, natalie spoke, voice calm and clear, “that was embarrassing. let’s forget it ever happened.”

“oh no, nat,” you said, placing your hands firmly on her shoulders, “don’t push things like that away.”

your friend only blinked at you as you continued, “we can leave it rest for now, but i never, ever want to see you suffer like that again. please let me know if there is anything i can ever do for you, no matter how small it is.”

natalie smiled at you, tiredly, then stood up, taking your hand in hers. you decided then and there that she was going to sleep over at your house for a while, but first, you needed to get her something to eat. her stomach grumbled with hunger, and natalie gave you an embarrassed laugh. you just stood and stared at her before wiping her smudged eyeliner from her cheeks.

“there”, you stated simply, “you’re perfect.” she looked into your eyes, lips parted in an o shape. however, before she could say anything, you walked towards the changing room.

you quickly grabbed her things from her locker before walking towards your car with her, hand in hand. you just knew that jackie was screaming the head off the girl that made your best friend cry. and god, did that bitch deserve it.

[thickenmyblood]

I love HIUH and think about it often. Today I was thinking about Laurent and his experience with his own court-mandated therapy along with some of your recent tumblr comments.

Did he want to start therapy back when he did? I assume that if it was court-mandated it was a condition of him getting custody of Nicaise. Did he want to go on medication or did he resist? What would cause Paschal to recommend it? Damen mentioned early on in the story some fighting between Laurent and Nicaise when he first started living with them, so maybe that was it and it was worse than Damen and his rose-tinted glasses remembers.

I always assumed Laurent would be very pro-therapy (for Nicaise's well being and when he learned that Damen went too) but does he think the same thing for himself -- especially since you noted that this Laurent is very self-hating and was basically ok with being a target of Damen's unintended toxic masculinity. He also seemed to take the brunt of Agnes' well-meaning advise to him about him separating his life from Nicaise's and that ended up with Damen mad at him for not noticing what was happening.

It's all so interesting and I'd love to hear more if you can/want to share. Thank you!

hi!!!!!!!! i love these questions.

Did he want to start therapy back when he did? I assume that if it was court-mandated it was a condition of him getting custody of Nicaise.

no, he didn't want to do it, but at the same time I think of laurent as a very rational person, and so it would be hard for him to objectively say "I'm fine and don't need any kind of help" when he lost his entire family and was emotionally and sexually abused for years. it's my headcanon that he went into it thinking "I'll attend the required 20-something sessions and then I'm done", but he ended up liking paschal and also realizing he really needed the outlet (let's face it, he was NOT going to be talking to damen about any of that)

Did he want to go on medication or did he resist? What would cause Paschal to recommend it? Damen mentioned early on in the story some fighting between Laurent and Nicaise when he first started living with them, so maybe that was it and it was worse than Damen and his rose-tinted glasses remembers.

there are a few mentions in the story about how negatively laurent thinks and feels about his mother. it's implied she also struggled with mental health issues and ended up needing some kind of treatment (meds, inpatient, etc.), which laurent doesn't seem very supportive of. it's my personal opinion that laurent doesn't want to end up like her, doesn't want to relate to her in that way, and he's already at a disadvantage because he was institutionalized as a teen. so . . . yes, I think he REALLY resisted going on meds.

as to why paschal recommended it . . . we don't see this in canon because the story ends in KR and that's it for them, basically, but I imagine that once things have settled, laurent abandons his hypervigilant state and in the new calm that follows is forced to deal with all the emotional things he did not have the time, space, comfort to do deal with before. which means actually FEELING your feelings. which means . . . going a bit insane. i did a lot of trimming when it comes to the flashbacks, but there was one I sort of regret taking out because it showed laurent right before going on meds. he's in and out all the time, in public and when he's alone, and damen doesn't really notice how bad it is until they're having a conversation that borders on suicidal ideation.

“Disappear,” Damen said. “Like a vacation?” Laurent stopped scrubbing his hands. “No.” “The school year doesn’t end for another three months.” “The school year?” Damen frowned then, because— “Unless you don’t want to take Nicaise?” “Nicaise,” Laurent said, like he was hearing the name for the first time. He went back to scrubbing.

it's also mentioned in the fic that laurent has trouble sleeping. so, it's a nice combo of years of pent-up shame and self-hatred, anxiety and stress over the new responsibility of raising a kid, guilt over what happened to said kid, a baseline of depression, issues with your partner because you don't know how to be vulnerable and he's a bit too oblivious sometimes . . . yeah. laurent and nicaise's arguments def pushed laurent over the edge, too, because back then nicaise was still pretty much team uncle, which in turn brought up a lot of trauma for laurent since they're mirror characters in the fic.

i loved this ask!!! thank you for reading the story and reaching out!! i hope this reply was worth your time.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Recon

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: You and Wanda meet.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for so long. Did I say I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this? Whoops. Enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff. 

When you leave the lecture hall, your mind is on the class you just finished, and when you’re going to have the chance to study for the exam that’s next week. You’re less than a year away from being done with university, and you’ve already submitted your application for veterinary school. However, as you continue to gain experience by working at a vet clinic a few times a week, and study your ass off to keep getting good grades, you realize that you are running yourself into the ground.

You’re exhausted and despite enjoying what you’re learning for the most part, physics being the exception, you need another outlet. You need something to do that’s not school or vet-related so you don’t burn yourself out. You sleep, wake up, and go to class, study between classes, and then go home and study some more. If you’re lucky, you have time to eat three meals a day and get time to decompress before going to bed. If you’re unlucky and it’s exam week, you don’t even leave the library for days except to shower and sleep.

Since you live alone and have no pets, other than a fish that you don’t pay enough attention to, you don’t have anyone to force you to relax. You promise yourself you’ll do better once this next anatomy exam is done, but all thoughts of planning a movie marathon soon leave your mind when you spot her.

You’re still moving along with the crowd of people fleeing the lecture hall when you see a beautiful brunette waiting in the lobby. You look away quickly because you don’t want to be caught staring, but you’re only about to resist for a few steps before you are looking at her again.

You’re certain that you haven’t seen her before because despite being in your own world sometimes, you tend to notice the important things. Especially, ridiculously attractive women. The first thing you notice beyond her hair because that’s always the first thing you notice, are her eyes. As she looks around for someone, probably one of your classmates, you see her bright green eyes that you’d love to get lost in. You’ve always had a weakness for them in the past. Her dark makeup only accentuates her natural beauty, and you hope as you see her gaze pass over you, that you’re not drooling.

You don’t have time to look away again before you feel someone push past you as they walk through a doorway. You; however, don’t make it and you slam into the door frame with an undignified grunt and cringe at the fact that you probably just drew a lot of attention to yourself for being so distracted.

“Fuck.”

Wanda had been on campus for over an hour already and she was getting bored. She hadn’t been around so many people close to her age before and it felt foreign to her. She’d never gone to university. After finishing high school and graduating valedictorian, she’d decided to help her parents and brother with the family business. Then they’d died and she hadn’t been given a choice about whether she wanted to keep things running. It had been a difficult time, and that was barely a year ago that she and Pietro had been orphaned. Their losses still seemed fresh on some days, but as Wanda wanders around campus looking for her target, she’s reminded of the life she could have had if her parents hadn’t chosen the paths they had.

Wanda had always loved history in school, and through tutoring a lot of her classmates, she’d realized that she loved teaching. She’d humored becoming a history teacher for a few months before her future with the mob became less of a possibility and more of an indisputable fact after her parents lost their lives in an attack. She remembers receiving the news of her parents’ deaths on her darkest nights that usually involved copious amounts of alcohol. She hadn’t been there. Ironically, she’d just been leaving her graduation party when her brother called her to tell her to come home now. She’d been confused by how frantic he was, and annoyed by the lack of information he’d offered.

 It wasn’t until she’d arrived home and seen it swarming with her parents’ employees, she’d called them minions, she’d been enlightened by her brother about what happened.

Revenge had immediately become her priority. Despite being devastated by her loss, she’d thrown herself into a role that she could barely comprehend and tried to keep the business afloat while finding those responsible. Wanda looks back on these early days of chaos and is glad to have them behind her. Well, her days are still chaotic sometimes, but in the months since she’s taken over, she’s learned to be efficient. She spends her days delegating and overseeing an empire that brings in millions of dollars a year.

Today, she’s looking for a replacement computer scientist to help run her convoluted security network. She’d just promoted the man who’s previously held the position, but he’d recommended someone that Wanda was hard-pressed to believe would be a good replacement. She had expected someone with comparable experience which in this case was nearly a decade, but here she was at a university where most people here were in elementary school that long ago.

She has everything she needs to know about this kid, he’s a year younger than she is, but she gets a little sidetracked before she can find him. He’s supposedly in the building she’s standing outside of now, but she’s not sure what the best way to approach him would be. She could say who she was, but that usually freaked people out pretty quickly, so maybe she’d just mention Frank first.

Wanda checks her watch to see that the class that he’s in should have just gotten out and she sighs before heading toward the doors. She still feels out of her element as she walks into the building with her old high school backpack slung over her shoulder. She just needs to find who she came for, and then she can get back to familiar territory.

The class lets out a few minutes late, and Wanda can see on the faces of several students that this is a common occurrence. She scans the sudden swarm of students that start to flow through the sets of double doors leading out of the lecture hall and into the lobby where she waits. She figures she could have been slightly less conspicuous if she’d sat down at one of the available tables and pretended to study, but she didn’t have the patience to do much to keep up her ruse. She’d had an exhausting week and was mostly doing this as a favor to her brother. She’d asked him to do this, but he’d gotten home late from a deal last night and was still hungover.

Wanda’s thinking of how to get her brother to repay her when she sees you walk out with a distracted look. You’re not who she’s looking for at all, but you’ve caught her attention immediately, and she briefly forgets what she’s here for when she catches your gaze. You’re beautiful and clearly stressed as you probably mull over the lecture you just left. You’re frowning and as you walk closer, Wanda can see you show characteristic signs of an overworked student. There are dark circles under your eyes that aren’t as bright as Wanda expects they usually are, from hours of studying or listening to lecturers drone on and on.

She watches as you stifle a yawn before running a hand through your slightly unkempt hair. She’ll learn later that this is a nervous tick of yours, something you tend to do as you stress about anything and everything. Wanda only has a couple of seconds to wonder what your name is when someone bumps into you and sends you falling into the door. She cringes at the loud sound and the clearly pained look on your face as you smash your arm against the metal door frame not two feet from her.

“Fuck.”

Wanda frowns despite wanting to smile at the sound of your voice. It’s rough from pain or fatigue but Wanda can’t help but imagine other scenarios in which it might sound lower than usual as she speaks without her brain’s permission.

“Are you okay?”

You’re a little thrown off by a ridiculously attractive, total stranger talking to you, but you offer her a smile before nodding in answer. You’re fine honestly, just a little miffed and embarrassed by your inattentiveness. You take a moment to admire the brunette in front of you now that you’re actually allowed to look at her, and you have to remind yourself not to be weird.

You haven’t dated in a long time. If you can count going on two first dates as ‘dating’. You’ve used being busy with school and work as an excuse to not doing a better job of trying to meet women. You know that if you really wanted to, you would put in a little more effort, but you are too worried about being distracted from school to give it much of a shot.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Just distracted.”

You offer a smile and Wanda just smiles back before glancing over your shoulder briefly for someone. You don’t get a chance to ask before she speaks up and you almost groan in response. Fucking physics.

“Class was that boring?”

You start to drift toward Wanda mostly to get out of the way of traffic, but as you find yourself standing across from her you realize you should have just risked getting sideswiped again. She’s even prettier up close and you try to ignore how good she smells as you blush slightly.

“Oh physics is my least favorite, but it’s a necessary evil unfortunately.”

Wanda has given up looking for Frank’s protégé at this point, and she leans against the wall behind her. She’d rather talk to you than try to persuade someone who she doesn’t quite need yet to work for her. She has a feeling you’re much more interesting than a conversation about firewalls and VPNs.

“Necessary for…?”

Wanda can’t help but smile a little wider as she watches you fidget nervously with your backpack straps with a nervous chuckle. You’re always reluctant to tell people about your plans to go to vet school because given the school you’re at, and the state you’re in, it’s almost as if everyone’s trying to do it. You’re just one of hundreds who have the same goal.

“Vet school applications.”

Wanda smiles at the thought of this before she considers what type of vet you want to be. She figures the best way to find out is to ask, but she can’t help but imagine you wrangling pigs or cows in addition to the cats or dogs she figures most people are more interested in.

"That’s impressive.”

Wanda revels in the darker blush she sees on your cheeks as you shake your head in disagreement. She is quickly realizing that you don’t accept praise or compliments well, you’re too modest or perhaps something else to just smile and let yourself bask in them. She wonders which it is as she watches you practically wave her off with a vaguely uncomfortable look.

“Maybe once I get in, but right now I feel like I’m just doing the same as everyone else.”

Wanda’s not sure how to respond to this immediately, but you don’t give her a chance as you turn the attention on her. You can’t help but wonder what she studies. More specifically why this is the first time you’ve seen her here.

“What about you?”

Wanda freezes and you notice her stiffen imperceptibly as she considers her answer. You take the prolonged moment of silence to study the brunette a little more carefully. You can’t really guess what she studies just by looking at her. If not for the fact that she’s in a building where multiple disciplines are taught, you don’t see much of anything in or on her backpack. You at least have a dog and cat button on yours.

“Um, history. World history.”

You take a second to think about this and realize that it doesn’t make a lot of sense. History is not taught in this building, but then again, she could just be visiting for another reason. You don’t say this or even ask because it’s not your business. Instead, you smile and nod in understanding as you think about your lack of luck in all of your history classes.

“That is impressive. I could never follow anything in history class.”

Wanda’s still reeling from her Freudian slip when your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. She frowns slightly when she watches you take it out and look at it with a sigh. She has a feeling that you’re going to leave soon, and she can’t help but want to keep talking to you.

She honestly hasn’t had a conversation with someone her age, about normal things like school in a very long time. She realizes this might be the true reason for why she feels her mood drop precipitously as you leave a few seconds later, but she doesn’t allow herself to think about it for long.

“Ugh, I need to go to my next class. It was nice meeting you…”

You trail off purposely and Wanda smiles as she tells you her name that you can’t help but smile at.

“Wanda.”

You nod before offering your own name as you silence your phone for a second time.

“Wanda. I’m Y/n. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

It’s not a question but Wanda nods without thinking. She doesn’t think she will see you again, but she can’t bring herself to say that. You wonder if you will as you leave to your next class that you’re going to have to run to in order to be on time. You can’t bring yourself to care though as you smile stupidly all the way there.

Maybe you will see her again.

Two weeks later

Pietro Maximoff was at a loss. He couldn’t figure out what was going on with his sister. She was never home, which honestly in itself wasn’t odd, but she had been going MIA more these past two weeks than she had since taking over things here. Wanda always did a good job of keeping in touch with him during the day, at the very least once a day to check in. Since their parents had died, they’d realized how important it was to stay in touch and watch each other’s backs.

This was for both of their safety, and despite the bodyguard that he was still trying to get his sister to allow follow her around, it never hurt to let someone know where she were. Steve had been running around a lot trying to follow Wanda who seemed to disappear early in the morning and not return until late at night.

He has no idea where she’s going and despite her saying that she was just busy with work, he was suspicious. His twin instincts were telling him something was wrong, and he planned to track her down today and try to figure out what was going on.

He had a few things to wrap up first, but as soon as he was done, he was going to find Wanda.

World History.

Wanda was still beating herself up over her stupid answer two weeks later. She couldn’t have managed to narrow it down at all in the moment, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. As soon as she’d managed to recruit her technician, she left campus and immediately started looking into you. She figured out your full name, where you’d grown up and a little about your family, but she hadn’t wanted to look any further. Sure, she could have easily figured out where you lived, but she’d already crossed a line by being too curious for her own good.

The next day she’d tried to focus back on work and forget about her run in with you. It had worked for about 48 hours before she’d cracked and found herself back at the university. Wanda had ignored her usual routine for a day and camped out for a chance to spot you again. She’d worked outside the building where she’d met you since it was a nice day and she only had to make phone calls and check in on people.

As she laid out in the grass, she ignored her brother’s texts asking where she was, but she had a feeling she could only do this for so long. She’d managed to go back every day and still not see you for the rest of the week, and she was frustrated. She returned to the compound around 8pm and was on her way to the kitchen to get something to eat when someone practically shouts at her.

“Wanda! Long time no see.”

Wanda turns around to see her brother rounding the corner and hurrying over to her. She offers him a sheepish look before she just nods and continues on her way, just a bit slower so her brother can follow.

“Hey, Piet. How’s it going?”

Wanda is thinking about what to eat for dinner when her brother shoots her a look that she misses. He frowns before deciding to just get right to it. He’d taken a lot of time to figure out how to approach his sister about her uncharacteristic behavior. Steve had told him that he’d finally been able to follow her today, and she’d just gone to the nearby university to sit outside and supposedly work all day. He was still very confused and hoped that Wanda could offer an explanation.

“The usual mostly, just without you. Where’ve you been recently?”

Because she knew her brother well, she had prepared an answer to this question that he’d hopefully buy. That said, she hadn’t counted on him sending anyone to follow her. She’d be annoyed about that once she got over the embarrassment at being found out.

“I’ve been trying to get out of the compound during the day. Needed a change of scenery.”

Wanda notices as she opens the fridge that her brother is shooting her a look that she doesn’t like at all. She grabs some leftovers from a dinner she’d made a couple of nights ago, and pretends to be too focused on it to notice her brother’s suspicion. She almost drops the dish in response to his question, and she curses under her breath before shaking her head vehemently.

“Steve says you’ve been going to the same place on campus this week.”

This was a lie, but he mostly wanted to see how Wanda reacted, and she didn’t disappoint. She disagrees unconvincingly before glaring at him for his next question.

“I’m just trying to get out, Pietro. You don’t need to send Steve to stalk me.”

She realizes that she sounds a little hypocritical calling someone else a stalker, but she disregards this quickly at her brother’s accusation.

“Are you seeing someone there? Is that why you’ve been MIA?”

Wanda shakes her head with a frown because she honestly wishes she could say she’d seen you since. She was going to give it one more day, but she couldn’t keep hanging around campus with nothing to show for it. She also had to get back to work at some point. She hoped to see you again, but if she didn’t catch sight of you on Monday, she was just going to have to let this go.

 “No, Piet. I’m just getting out some, okay?”

He isn’t convinced, but Wanda is fine with this for now given that she doesn’t have anything to hide. Nothing’s happened, and despite secretly hoping that this will change, she isn’t going to get him worked up over nothing.

Although Wanda is very different from her brother, they are both known for their paranoia. It’s hard not to be paranoid given their experiences and their lifestyle, but the twins are always overly cautious and when making any potentially risky decisions, they typically consult each other.

This included trusting anyone who wasn’t directly involved with their work, and given how her last short-lived relationship ended, she didn’t want to have a similar conversation with Pietro anytime soon.

So she decided to visit one last time Monday to see if she caught sight of you. If not, things would go back to the way they were, and Wanda would stick to one night stands that scratched that itch, but did very little else for her at this point.

Once she leaves her brother after they’ve finished eating and catching up, Wanda returns to her room to sleep. It’s been a long week despite not being as busy as usual. She knows she has some things to catch up on this weekend, but she’ll worry about that later. She lies down before turning on a show that she ends up ignoring. She falls asleep by the middle of the episode, and she can’t help as her mind wanders to your beautiful smile and adorable blush.

You’re almost certain that you failed that exam just now. You’d spent the last week, and especially this weekend, studying for your physics exam during any free moment. Physics was not your strong suit, and you honestly were just trying to pass this class with a C or higher at this point. Given that you’d failed the first test spectacularly, you needed to do much better on this and the last one to pass the class.

Leaving the lecture hall though, you’re not convinced that you will accomplish this. You scowl on your way out of the building and can’t help but be annoyed with yourself. You just don’t know how to study for this class, and the damn assignments don’t seem to help you. You’re frustrated, but unfortunately there’s nothing you can do about it now. You just need to forget it and just do better next time.

You’re hurrying down the stairs when you spot her again. You’d thought about your run-in with Wanda for a couple of days until you got too distracted by your test. You’d concluded that Wanda was probably not a student, but you’d never been able to figure out why she was on campus that day. You figured that it was useless to overthink it because you weren’t going to see her again.

That said, as she looks up just as you’re walking down the stairs you hope that she happens to remember you too. She’s sitting on a brick wall not directly in your path to your next class, but you have no qualms against making a detour. Hell, you’ll be late for you next class, something that’s never happened, if it meant being able to talk to Wanda again.

“Hey.”

Wanda’s standing up as you walk closer to her and she smiles at your poorly concealed glee. She doesn’t dare let herself be too hopeful and consider that you actually wanted to see her again too.

“Hey…”

You slow to a stop beside her, not minding the people walking by you as you focus solely on Wanda. She’s not carrying a backpack today and you briefly wonder if she’s here just for you before disregarding that unlikelihood.

“Wanda.”

You smile wider at her before offering her a nod. You decide that it wouldn’t hurt to be upfront with the brunette, and you laugh as you nod in the direction of your next class.

“Wanda, I know. I was just surprised to see you here again. Walk with me?”

Wanda nods before following your lead with a smile. She’s grateful that she finally caught sight of you, and she was determined to not let this opportunity go to waste. She’s not sure where they’re headed, but she doesn’t worry about this as she responds.

“Surprised? Why’s that?”

Wanda has a feeling that she wasn’t as subtle as she’d wanted to be last time you met. She just isn’t sure if you’d picked up on it, and if so, how much you’d been able to gleam from your short interaction. When she sees you smile widely and shoot her a knowing look out of the corner of her eye, she realizes you were smarter than she expected. You also weren’t afraid to speak your mind which she admired given how most of the company she kept on a daily basis held back out of fear of angering her.

“Well, you’re clearly not a student here, and I can’t imagine why anyone would come spend time here of their own free will. Unless of course she has ulterior motive.”

Wanda can’t help but blush slightly at the fact that she’s caught. She’s honestly surprised that she’d spent the past 2 weeks hanging out on campus just for a chance to see you again. She doesn’t say this because that would undoubtedly sound creepy, so she settles on asking another question.

“What ulterior motive is that?”

You don’t respond immediately as you walk up the steps towards the lecture hall that you have to spend the next 75 minutes in. You stop short of walking in and you turn to Wanda with a pensive look. You’re not sure what she wants from you so you just say this in hopes of her clarifying her intentions.

“I’m not really sure, but either way I’m glad to see you again.”

Wanda can’t stop herself from smiling at this and she nods to herself before taking a moment to find her courage. It’s now or never, or rather, now or just at a later, more awkward time. Wanda leans back against the railing behind her with a sigh before meeting your curious gaze.

“You too, Y/n. I actually wanted to see if you’d be interested in going out sometime? We could go out for  drinks.”

You beam in response and Wanda feels her heart start to race in anticipation. Then you shake your head.

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

Wanda’s face falls and she silently berates herself for a few seconds before you speak up again.

“But I love food, if that’s something you’d be interested in?”

Wanda smiles again as she immediately nods in response. You take this as your cue to grab your phone and you fiddle with it for a few seconds before handing it to her.

“Great. Well, I need to go to class now, but if you put your number in there, we can figure out the details soon.”

Wanda’s already thinking about the places she could take you for dinner as she takes your phone from you. She texts herself before handing it back to you with a relieved smile. She feels like the weight she’s been carrying around since she met you has been lifted from her shoulders.

“Can’t wait.”

Masterlist

[beardedmrbean]

So I recently heard about a law in Oklahoma being passed that required the Bible being taught in school? And that it had to have the US constitution in it to be acceptable at schools. And the only bibles out there that fit the requirement is Bible's Trump is selling. Is there any truth to that?

This is the first I'm hearing of it so I had to poke round and find something that didn't look biased, which is not easy when it comes to something like this.

This one is from July so nothing about the Bibles in there, other than can it be taught, which yes it can under certain circumstances.

I don't know this publication but they've linked everything for their fact check to other sources and it's not all the same one, they seem to be pretty even handed on everything.

TL:DR; is it's complicated, but the one bit I'm going to post from the check is going to be the thing that most other outlets will likely leave out.

We researched state and federal laws and court rulings to fact-check claims Walters has made about what state law allows him to do and who has the legal authority to make decisions on classroom curriculum. 

Claim: The Oklahoma state superintendent has the authority to require specific content be taught in public schools.  Source: Walters told NBC News he has the legal authority to require the Bible in classroom instruction and that teachers who don’t comply could lose their teaching licenses.  Fact check: Mostly false

The Oklahoma Attorney General’s office has said that Walters has no legal authority to require certain content be taught by sending a memo to school districts. 

State law gives local school districts the exclusive power to determine “the instruction, curriculum, reading lists and instructional materials and textbooks.” 

The Oklahoma Board of Education, which Walters chairs, is responsible for adopting academic standards. The standards set a basic framework for what students should know by the end of each school year, according to state law. The Board of Education also has the power to revoke teaching certifications for willful violations of state or federal rules.

The Oklahoma State Department of Education did not respond to The Frontier’s questions about the legal grounds for Walters’ authority to require schools to include the Bible in classroom lessons. -Brianna Bailey ____________________

State Superintendent can't force compliance, school districts get to make that choice.

I would like to point out this is a good thing and one more reason why the federal department of education needs to be shut down, they shouldn't be determining curriculum either, keep that local.

I hope this answers your questions though

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hey Cas, Outlet anon here with another vent. I want your advice, but there isn't really a question, just... what you think about the whole thing.

I think this might be religious trauma, but it doesn't really feel like trauma to me. More a couple bad things that happened to me and affected my life significantly (the literal definition of trauma is "...an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident, crime, or natural disaster. It can also refer to the lasting emotional response resulting from living through a distressing event, which can include psychological symptoms such as depression, anxiety, flashbacks, and recurring nightmares." But it doesn't Feel significant enough to be trauma.).

Anyway. I was raised christian in a christian household with very christian relatives, and, unfortunately, that comes with heaps and heaps of homophobia (I know some christians are differen't, but those people aren't part of this story). I, on the other hand, am very, very queer, and I look the part (stereotypically, anyway. I have a bunch of piercings, a shaved head, weird outfits, etc etc. The whole nine yards.)

In my last ask, I mentioned 'Al' (my sibling's dad). To add some more icing to the cake of amazing thingsTM (/sarcasm) about him, he's one of the Very Homophobic christians.

Growing up, 'weird' (LGBTQIA+) people never bothered me. I'm not sure why, but it might be because I was bullied (for how I dressed and what shoes I wore, stuff like that, but thinking back now, it probably had something to do with my weight & very obvious autism that nobod every told me about, but that's a different story for a different time.), though I've also never really cared about that sort of thing. Like, it didn't change anything if someone wanted to be called something else or if they liked someone of the same identity. It just... never crossed my mind to care. I guess that's one plus of Al hating and ignoring me; his views never rubbed off.

When I got old enough to understad gender and sexuality and whatnot, some things about me slid right into place. It took a year or so (barely any time at all, compared to other people) for me to get stuff right and figure out which labels did and didn't fit, but when I finally got it right, I was happy & content. Go back a year or so to my *first* label: lesbian. My mother found out because I was young and dumb and didn't know about search history, but she just asked me about it and told me that telling Al wasn't a good idea.

I listened for a couple months and kept my head down; however, this was back when I still desperately wanted a dad and was still trying my best to make Al love me, so telling him about my identity felt important. Well, I did. Needless to say, he wasn't happy and he became more passive agressive (this was after he stopped interacting with me really at all, so he didn't hurt me or do anything physically except restrict my already restricted internet). His negative response is what got me to finally stop trying with him and to just say "fuck it, I don't need a dad".

I was still calling myself a christian, but I'd started to question a lot of stuff that nobody wanted me to question. Fast forward a year and I'd taken up witchcraft and my questions still hadn't been answered. I was told "god loves the real you" and then forced to be someone else. Naturally, that didn't sit right.

I kept going to church to keep up pretenses and keep Al content. At one point, they did a sermon about LGBTQIA+ people, and the end message was "we don't have to accept you to respect you". Which. Just. What a fucking fantastic thing to say to a bunch of queer people, one of which had started thinking of youth group as a safe space with safe people where I could be myself. That was like a slap in the face, and suddenly the people I thought were safe weren't anymore.

I started to really resent Al and became more reclusive at home and more flamboyant at school. Now that I'm typing it out, this sounds pretty insignificant, but this shit hit me deep and hard. I was just a kid who wanted to be wanted. Instead, I was hated for something that wasn't my choice.

I have an uncle (Al's brother, but he's earned the 'Uncle' title in my eyes) who came out as gay then moved to Germany to get away from everyone. It took him like 20 years to talk to his parents again.

I'm happier now, with a collection of deities who are kinder to me, a community that's happy to have me around, and a friend who I can share my religion with. Which, honestly, is more than I could ever ask for.

Anyway. That's all I can think of. I hope your day is magical, I give my regards to you and your wife. Thank you for listening <3

You: I think this might be religious trauma, but it doesn't really feel like trauma to me. More a couple bad things that happened to me and affected my life significantly Also you: But it doesn't Feel significant enough to be trauma.

I mean, I'm not a professional, but...that feels like trauma to me? Something that has to do with religion that negatively affected your life in a significant way?

I think a lot of people don't want to label their trauma as trauma because they've heard other people have "had it worse" and like...just because you weren't send to a conversion therapist doesn't mean what you went through wasn't trauma. (did I say that right? there were a lot of negatives in there).

You're allowed to recognize your experiences as horrible and upsetting and life-altering. It doesn't negate other people's experiences, I promise <3 (and I mean this in a kind way, not a rude way)

You're always allowed to vent to me, and I'm so glad you're happier now. But yeah, it sounds like you went through some awful shit, and I'm giving you tons of hugs.

[neonscandal]

So, fanfic ideas.... If JJK and BNHA characters were in No Power world, what would their job be if not become Jujutsu Sorcerer or Hero (in your opinion)? Why? Please pick your top 5 fav characters from each...

Ooooh la la, another fun one. High key, I love this question. If you end up writing anything, I'd love for you to PM me so I can read it (you can also share anonymously, whatever's clever)! Thanks for the ask, let me know your thoughts below 👇🏾

This is literally me perking up any time I get a new ask. 🥰

JUJUTSU KAISEN AU

Quite literally, all of these characters would be alive and thriving anywhere else.

Nobara Kugisaki - IG Model, easy. After not getting scouted in Tokyo like she'd always imagined, she decides to do it her mf'ing self. Her results... are lackluster. At first. But as frustration wins, she inadvertently starts letting the real her shine through (complete with bouts of scathing badassery during a live complaining about her lack of fame). People begin to find her incredibly relatable and she becomes like the Jennifer Lawrence of influencers. Never once do her travels take her close to Shibuya station.

Why: That "I-Know-I'm-The-Shit-Even-If-You-Don't" attitude has nothing to do with jujutsu. Nobara has an unwavering confidence and is delulu enough to make it happen, whatever It is for her.

Yuji Itadori - As a card carrying member of the occult club in high school, Yuji starts considering his prospects for higher education (Sasaki and Iguchi will continue to need someone to hide behind as they investigate the "supernatural"). Subsequently, he finally gives into coach's insistence to join a sports team provided it doesn't take time away from his club commitments and, of course, goes All Star in whatever sport he decides to take on. Subsequently, he gets a full ride + stipends to attend university as a college baseball player after chasing his passing interest in going to the "Summer Koshien". He happens to follow Kugisaki on Insta.

Why: Yuji's need to be needed would, in part, guide his steps. I think he'd want to be something cinema related, like a reviewer! But he'd always want to coddle the cowering forms of his peers even if they weren't particularly close. Sports is a means to an end, maybe he'll study cinematography or film theory in uni! But ultimately, he's still a kid who wants to help people.

Megumi Fushiguro - Sweet baby Megs has always had a penchant with animals. They find their way to him at parties, otherwise well behaved dogs pull against their leash to flock to him... even wild animals tend to be way too comfortable getting close. This charm he has over animals amuses him though he'd never admit it aloud (he's still just as sullen as ever). Subsequently, while he doesn't need the money, he helps out as a veterinarian technician while in high school and volunteers to walk dogs at the local humane society. He doesn't have social media but he occasionally gets posted with the animals on their SM pages when they have adoption events (which tend to be really well attended afterwards). He's posted exactly one video to YouTube to an account with no profile picture that urges idiots to stop giving baseballs to dogs and leaving them unattended as aggressive chewers may end up ingesting the innards which cause obstructions in their intestines. Yuji was the idiot in question that prompted the post. He did see the video.

Why: Megumi is gentle but more specifically to life forms that deserve it. I still think he'd break the face of anyone who breaks the golden rule of "don't hurt me [or anyone I love] and I won't hurt you [or anyone you love]" but that soft spot for vulnerable beings is still there.

Nanami Kento - Nanami Kento is still a salaryman but, without the outlet that being a sorcerer allowed him when he felt dispirited, he's forced to white knuckle it like the rest of us. That is, until he finds a cause that he can dedicate some of his time to. It starts when Haibara joins a community outreach program wherein he encourages Nanami to be a volunteer mentor. It starts out rather stiffly but, eventually, things kind of click together for him. He realizes the kid he's mentoring isn't a total delinquent and the kid realizes he's not being infantilized when Nanami just cares for his wellbeing. With this understanding, Nanami really feels like his impact is meaningful and he commits to taking on more responsibilities within the program both in a leadership role and in taking on more mentees. Ino was his first mentee, Yuji was his second (mandatory after being caught underage in a pachinko casino). He couldn't get rid of either of them after the fact.

Why: Nanami isn't so bored with being an office worker that jujutsu is the only alternative. He just wants to feel like his incredibly valuable time makes a difference. He needs a cause and Papamin deserves someone to look after (quite to his dismay).

Satoru Gojo - Satoru Gojo wants for not in any universe. Subsequently, he is just an eccentric rich guy who, in a very intentionally Jay Gatsby manner, frequently throws extremely lavish parties that are the talk of the town. They are as garrish as he is outlandish but men and women flock to them for a chance at getting a peak at the Gojo clan heir. In his youth, he'd gone to a small, private religious high school and still sends individual invitations to each of his old schoolmates with the hope that one of them in particular will come. Shoko attends every party with Utahime begrudgingly at her side. Nanami curtly replies with a written "decline" to every single invitation though Haibara is sometimes able to drag him out. Geto attends occasionally but he is quite blissfully unaware that these opulent parties are solely meant to captivate his attention. He's under the impression that whatever they had in high school is long gone. Nobara has, on occasion, tried to crash these parties but security usually bounces her because she's underage.

Why: In every universe, in every life, Satoru Gojo is a simp. Especially for the lone person he considers to be his equal. For all his money, for all his power, he is always left wanting [Suguru Geto].

My Hero Academia AU

Honestly, this gave me more of a hard time. Like, the kids are the same age as JJK but, they just seem... like kids. I can't tell if it's the depth of JJK's character development or their semi-obvious cursed techniques as they relates to employment but here's what I came up with.

Katsuki Bakugo - Katsuki Bakugo is effortlessly good at a lot of things in and out of the MHA universe. While he has a keen intellect fit for many professions, I think his obsessive-bordering-on-psychopathic dedication to be the strongest, the best is reminiscent of a dude bro bullying you into buying whey protein and lifting more. He would for sure be a personal trainer who would, begrudgingly, have a social media presence where he commodifies his otherwise flippant attitude and "beats people into being a less shitty version of themselves". He would also have a private, no face cooking account on tik tok for his curated but delicious meal planning. Midoriya, unknowingly, follows both online personalities. This does not escape Bakugo’s attention.

Why: Don't get me wrong, kid is will one day be the CEO of whatever company he wants (a lot of CEO's are also psychopathic) but, considering his age and current hobbies, he was born to call his followers extras while condescending to them about a proper workout and nutrition plan.

Izuku Midoriya - Izuku and his penchant for hyper informed rants about his special interest would see surprising success as a tiktoker. Bullies would always find something to pick on him for whether that be his absent dad, his socioeconomic background, his pitiful disposition… but even they’d be clued into and following along for his long form verbal essays on pop culture (only thing I could think of in lieu of hero culture, maybe sports would be better?). He’d cultivate a community of adoring fans turned friends and collaborate with other similarly obsessed fanatics. Bakugo would be hyperaware of his channel but act really passive when any of their old middle school classmates bring it up to talk about it.

Why: I feel like tiktok is absolutely the perfect environment where people can connect over their interests and, as an aficionado in whatever seems apropos for the AU, Midoriya’s innate charm over others would shine through and garner a following. Especially because we know he knows what he’s talking about. I’d be tuned in.

Shoto Todoroki - if Enji is still in the mix, he’s likely still going to be waging war against his own weakness (in whatever capacity) and, subsequently will be both insanely successful by other peoples’ standards and still incredibly toxic toward his children in this mission. Shoto will still bear the brunt of it but will temper it with willful rebellion. Oh, you want Shoto to take over the family investment portfolio? It’ll cost you. He will be somewhat mindful of his actions so people aren’t losing their livelihoods but he will be sinking tons of Enji’s personal money into stocks or company’s with unfavorable odds. A family owned cement company that was about to go under, paying to keep a radio station operable 24/7 with semi-hourly disparaging blind items about Enji Todoroki.. these are just a few of his dalliances. Shoto is an undercover day trader using his fathers slush fund as capital. He was absolutely a big part of what saved GameStop’s stock inexplicably. Turned him a pretty profit but he refuses to give Enji the satisfaction of knowing that he may have been right in steering him to stocks in the first place. Midoriya absolutely talked at length about the phenomenon that rejuvenated his favorite game store from his youth he used to frequent with an unnamed childhood friend. Bakugo saw the segment and, while secretly giddy, did not reach out. Did thank whatever invisible hand drove the nerd to mention it though.

Why: His nepo baby status will get him in to places where he actually wants to be, career wise, but Enji is still stonewalling him into his idea of Shoto’s life. Further, he would never want his unique legacy to be tainted with whatever grace his father’s name gives him. He has time and the means to figure out what he wants to do though. And access to so much therapy.

Shouta Aizawa - I honestly cannot see Aizawa as anything not expressly kid related. The care he has when he gets on their eye level to talk to them is top tier. TBH he rounds out the trifecta of mentors who unilaterally put kids above themselves with Nanami and, arguably, Gojo. If not a teacher, I’d say a loose cannon social worker. Earnestly, this man is willing to be in the shit of it if only to spare children who lack guidance, resources, proper decision making skills, etc. as a UA teacher. He wouldn’t be of the “quick to expel and dash dreams” type of loose cannon that his teacher persona allows. He’d be more like a Benson from Law & Order SVU type loose cannon where he’s probably bending some protocols to be a bit more domineering than he needs to be so adults know that any vulnerable kids under his charge are cared for because he’s super invested in his work and their wellbeing. Plus, the man can be a little deranged so he’s not afraid to make his subtle point more clear ✨ for people who don’t appear to be getting the message when it comes to his young stewards.

Why: If there is a society that unjustly does not protect children, then Shouta Aizawa will. I think my hope is that Shirakumo Oboro isn't a lesson in every universe.

Toshinori Yagi - This man is a politician. He runs on idyllic principles which are infectious across every demographic. He appears earnest and forthright and truly got into it for all the right reasons but the reality of politics is very different from the idea of them. He still thrives but feels more and more like he's failing his constituents, losing out to other politicians who are more corrupt, who curry favor from less than savory organizations to sway policies in their favor. He's disheartened but still believes in a future with peace and looks to the youth, his biggest support base, to take steps toward progress together which includes bolstering social programs. Aizawa thinks he's a bit of a sham until money starts hitting the programs that matter. Midoriya talks about Yagi's bold commitment to partnering with the youth on his channel frequently.

Why: It was this or a Gilderoy Lockhart-esque facade for a self-help book author. I see both as equally plausible. Selling a dream while falling apart internally? Same.

[bekkachaos]

Hiiii Bekka 💕💕💕💕

I am so intrigued by all your wips!

Please tell me all about (or maybe even share a snippet of 🥰):

-soulmate AU

-Truman show AU

-addict Buck/spiraling Eddie AU

-❤️🪐

Hi darling!! Thank you so much for asking, I love talking about my wips (instead of writing them 😅 teehee).

Here's a bit of info about these wips and a snippet from one 🥰

Soulmate AU

You can't lie to your soulmate, so from a very young age Eddie decides that he's just never going to lie, because he doesn't want to know. He thinks the odds are against finding your soulmate in the millions of people in the world anyway, so why ruin a chance to be happy with someone else?

Buck on the other hand, has always dreamed about finding his soulmate, he's kind of a romantic like that. Such a romantic that he practically lies to every woman he meets, and every time he does he gets that pang of disappointment when it works so easily.

Truman Show AU

This is way more of a vibe than an on track fic just yet! But I had the idea that Buck was given up as a baby to a reality show set to follow a boy in every moment of his life from infancy through adulthood, and baby Buck soon becomes the heart of everyone's home, from the TV. The Evan Show is the most popular tv program ever, with peak audiences for his milestone events like his first day of school, his first kiss, even the day he tragically lost his father in a freak tsunami.

Now, Buck is nearly 30, with a beautiful redheaded fiance (😏) and a perfectly routine life. Only, it's too routine, too perfect. Things are starting to feel weird...

And then there's Eddie, who moves to LA with his son and gets a job as an extra in "The Dome" playing some part out of the way just filling up the world and making it seem real, he never even has to interact with Buck, at least not until he comes running panicked and looking for a place to hide as he questions the world around him. Eddie feels just as panicked, but somehow manages to talk him down and gets him to go home.

The next day Buck comes to visit Eddie and thanks him for what he did, asks him if he would let him buy him a beer to thank him. Eddie says he has to think about it, but that night after work Eddie gets called in with the director who said that his exchange with Buck the day before sent the ratings up, and they want to promote him, want to add him into Buck's friend circle. Eddie gets the impression it's either say yes or he's immediately out of a job, so he agrees.

What he didn't expect was to start falling for the most talked about man in America, and the more he falls, the worse he feels about the life Buck's forced to live, and he wonders if there's anything he could ever do to get him out.

Addict Buck / Spiralling Eddie AU

(this is one I've been thinking thinking about a lot and have so many ideas for, it was supposed to be smaller and for last year's angstfest buuut the idea got away from me and I didn't want to rush it!)

Eddie is at his lowest. His parents took him to court to take Chris away, and won. So they forced him back to Texas with them, leaving Eddie alone in LA. They won't even let Eddie talk to Christopher, telling him that he needs to let him adjust first so he doesn't confuse him. Eddie starts getting angry, so Lena (from his firehouse at the 136) suggests taking out his anger constructively by fighting. It's too good an outlet for Eddie, and he quickly ends up fighting in an illegal underground ring for money, leading to him getting suspended from his job at the fire department. The fighting ring starts to feel like the only thing Eddie has left, even though he knows how destructive it is, he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything.

That thought is weighing on his mind when he's walking to the edge of a bridge and staring out over the river by some abandoned workshops, wondering what the hell the point is anymore when he can't even talk to his son.

That's when he bumps into a stranger in the dark, clearly high on something. They have a tense exchange and Eddie leaves, but for some reason he revisits that spot again a few days later and the stranger, Buck, is still hanging around.

They build up a kind of friendship, and it soon becomes clear that they are exactly what the other needs to pick themselves up out of their low spots (even if they're a little reluctant to do it).

here's a snip x

He closed his eyes and sucked the biting air into his lungs, filling him with cold, fanning the fiery anger that consumed him and escaping back through his split lips in a heavy cloud. "You know most people think your breath doesn't do that until below freezing." Eddie flinched, turning back to see a tall man approaching slowly from behind, hands shoved into his front pockets and eyeing him with a tilt of his head. "Excuse me?" was all he managed in reply. "When you can see your breath in the air, doesn't have to be freezing, hell, only needs to get to about 45," he said, making an 'o' with his lips until his condensated breath came out in a long thin line.  Eddie eyed him warily. He hadn't seen him when he arrived at the bridge, there's not much around save for a few derelict buildings and a foot path leading towards the overpass. On top of that, he could see the way his pupils were dilated, he was high on something, or maybe coming down.  "I'd say sorry, that I didn't mean to interrupt, but I guess I did," he said, keeping his distance from Eddie but not taking his eyes or his curious gaze from him. Eddie just grunted back at him, not sure that he should turn his back on him. He could probably take him in a fight, as long as he doesn't have a knife, but he doesn't really want things to come to that. His knuckles were still cut and bruised from his fight earlier and his brow throbbed from the left hook he'd been too slow to dodge. "Want to tell me what you're doing out here?" the stranger asked, and this time Eddie really didn't care what happened next, so he turned his attention back to the black over the bridge. "Could ask you the same thing. You always sneak up on people? Start conversations about the air, how cold it is?" he said roughly. "Only when they're holding as tightly to the bridge rail as you are."

[morocosmos]

Writer Interview Game

Tagged by @arcaneoddity, tyyyy 💜

When did you start writing?

I noodled at an unfinished story or two when i was a kid (i drew comics a lot more tbh), the first fanfic i wrote was when i was 13 (it is consigned to ff.net, never to be perceived again). i started developing my writing during secondary school, we had to for english class but i genuinely enjoyed those assignments so much that it didn't feel like schoolwork lmao, it was smth of an outlet. i did write a couple of fics for other fandoms between 2016 and mid 2020, but in late 2020 FFXIV revived my desire to create, while @stellarfatalism and @lemoncakedesign's fics inspired me to actually start writing.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read a much wider variety of smut than what i could be convinced to write. other than that i think they mostly overlap.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

@haillenarte, @rabbitprint and @sezja's fics have stuck with me the most in terms of "god i want to be able to write characters like this"....i've never been compared to another writer before, never even considered it and idk how i'd feel.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I was writing on openoffice at first, but their software has a tendency to crash when you press two keys too fast, for example when you. try to save your work. moved to gdocs to avoid that and so that i could continue working on fic on my phone, but i also use the notes app on there, mainly to get down ideas that i don't want running away or to write more freely. it's easier to be experimental and loose when i'm writing in notes, idk, whereas i prefer sitting at the desk and working on my computer when it's a longer fic or a more """important""" piece.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I've let it happen when it happens, for the most part. i was forcing myself to power through job around the time i really grew into writing, so i needed it to be a space where i wouldn't do it if i didn't want to. my feelings about that are more mixed now, because i'm a slow writer to begin with, and i can't help but wonder if more people would read my stuff if i updated more consistently. but i digress - the only time i've had to bring the muse in myself was for to sail your seas, and that was because there was accountability and a deadline. so i guess my most effective tricks are ADHD hacks and brainworms.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Until recently i didn't approach fic writing with themes in mind, when i get an idea it's usually about throwing a character at something and seeing what happens. that something tends to be another character, sometimes it's more existential like touch starvation. that said, i do have a WIP where i sat down and thought about what i want the themes to be before i know how it's going to pan out, but it's baby's first attempt so i don't have an answer to this question yet, really.

What is your reason for writing?

Processing things i know and exploring things i don't. when i got back into writing in 2020 it was extremely cathartic, i've burnt out on several creative pursuits over the years and having that spark come alive was, and is still very precious to me. i spent two years writing simply because i had ideas and a vice-grip compulsion to write them out. now that that's slowed down, i've started to think more about craft, and how i might try to hone that when i'm lowkey afraid of this stage of learning, and there's no formal institution to kick my ass into it. but in some ways, i think i write because i can't afford not to.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I've been told by a friend that i'm good at continuity, which is nice considering it lines up with the obsessive approach i take towards trying to tie plot/character threads together lol. personally, i still consider descriptive writing to be my greatest strength. it's what i keep going back to, maybe because it was the first thing i discovered i was good at that wasn't influenced by someone else's decision.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I miss the honeymoon period when i thought my writing was the hottest shit LOL. that tapered off towards the end of 2022, but it's not like i think my writing is bad now, just that over time i became more aware of my shortcomings, and how much knowledge and experience i lack. i did have to fight a little to keep my relationship with writing from souring last year, but in hindsight it was more about frustration that i didn't have the energy to write (work burnout wooo) than a problem with writing itself. after a year plus of stalling and big fic projects i just want to have fun again, be a bit silly.