#he just asks if she's okay and she says yes so he leaves it at that and assumes she's fine

[toxycodone]

mouthwashing characters and their icks

ship. tulpar crew x reader

content. sfwish, just annoying things about our faves, some are romantic and some are general.

Captain Curly

Wildly empathetic. Like to a point where it’s annoying. Like yes, you get it. It’s sad to see an animal on the side of the road. But this is the second dog this week and it’s bit him twice. (He also falls for like. Fake homeless scams. Omg.)

I think he had an era where he had a cat that fucking hated him and never ever left under the guest room bed and terrorized his guests but he didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. 💀

He always ends up playing devil’s advocate without trying. Like when you’re complaining about someone at work or some bitch who cut you off in traffic, Curly’s like “maybe they had a bad day!” or something.

He just…never lets you just wallow in your misery when you need to. When he starts with his “look on the bright side!” stuff it makes your eyes roll back into your skull.

Is soooooo fucking conflict avoidant he’d rather just take shit on the chin then ever speak his mind about things with you. It gets so bad bc he’s bottling all this crap up and getting kinda catty. Because he won’t just grow up and tell you what his problem is.

Comes home in his dirty ass shoes and tracks mud all over the house. I mean he’ll swiffer it up like the housewife he is but it’s annoying.

Doesn’t clean his hands before touching your phone (or his own) before eating,. U get a greasy screen.

Jimmy is an asshole to you and Curly just goes “now now, Jim…” It won’t be until Jimmy does something like. Really bad. That Curly decides to put his foot down and enforce boundaries with that man. You witness this dude literally use your man as a doormat way too often.

If you make him choose. He would probably choose Jim unless push really came to shove…..

GIRLS FLIRT WITH HIM IN PUBLIC AND HES TOO ‘AWKWARD’ TO SAY “I’m taken…” so he just flaunts in the attention. In reality he just…likes the attention but doesn’t want to admit it to himself. (He’s loyal don’t get me wrong but this is annoying)

Thinks big romantic public gestures are cute. Whether that is an ick or not is up to you.

Jimmy

GOES THROUGH YOUR PHONE WHEN YOU’RE ASLEEP OR IN THE BATHROOM. And when you catch him he’s doesn’t even bother to make a good excuses “just wanted to check something.” Okay??? What?? If you go through his phone he will legit tackle you for it back (he isn’t even cheating he’s just pathetically bitchless and friendless. His last text was to his dealer and bro didn’t even respond.)

Will leave your important messages on read. It’s like he has read receipts on just to spite you.

Aggressively questions you out of the blue on who you know and hang out with as if it isn’t the same fucking people each time.

Really horny when he’s drunk and tries to seduce you but has terrible whiskey dick.

Terrible morning breath. Rank. Disgusting. Also all his clothes have the faint scent of stale cigarette smoke. Along with his carpet. And furniture. His walls are probably off-white too.

World’s dirtiest bathroom it’s literally so gross. He leaves his stubble in/around the sink after shaving with an electric razor real fast before work.

Has probably kissed you and then asked you what you last ate with a grimace 💔

Your friends hate him. Your family hates him. Your landlord hates him. And he hates them back.

You’ve had to bail him out of jail before. The officer on duty just gives you a pitied look when he sees you walk in and say you’re bailing him of all people out.

Pretty sure he has threatened to kill himself if you leave him multiple times but lashes out at you when you’re sweet to him at the most random times.

Anya

Stealing this from @l1v1ngd3dgrrl but Anya has the DUMBEST. LAUGH. Like she has a cutesy laugh until she’s finally not thinking and she laugh so hard she snorts. So loud.

Refuses to file down her nails so she accidentally scratches you all the time.

Definitely has an ex she’s still friends with that makes you lowkey question what is going on between them bc they’re obviously still into her and she doesn’t see it.

She silently judges and you can see it on her face when she has something to say but then she goes “it’s nothing!!!” And refuses to say it. (However, this does make her the best gossiper and she can be a total mean girl and tear apart bitches you hate on secret.)

Lowkey tries to psychoanalyze you when you’re venting to her like girl. I am not your homework.

Thinks it’s her responsibility to “fix you” for some reason. Takes you being depressed, angry, etc a little too personally.

Never watches the movies or shows you recommend you have sit her down and watch it w her. And she will. Be distracted by stuff on her phone.

Avid Mitski fan. And Nora Jones. Just an air of sad girl and longing to her that goes soooo crazy.

Big fan of ugly sweaters and tacky matching outfits….but has the audacity to make comments on your style.

Daisuke

“This one’s for you!” *Misses*. In public. In front of your friends. Need I say more.

Uses your hair products in the shower and your soap and your nice shaving oil without asking. :/

This is moreso in the beginning of the relationship but. I see this persisting that he’s constantly looking to you for approval for things. Has a really difficult time making decisions on his own, too. He’s looking to you for guidance on stuff,

Unironically thinks Dutch ovening you is funny.

Your friends all think he’s mid and although he’s sweet. You’re way outta his league. You’re dating down.

Has more skin care products than he can ever use. He’s a total product junkie.

GACHA GAME WHALE. Has definitely borrowed money for a ten pull in genshin 💔

Has cried out of frustration over Fortnite before (he was in a bad place. Okay.)

Cannot keep a job for the life of him. The only solid career he lands is like. Bobarista. But goddamn he’s good at it.

Has. Forgotten your anniversary/birthday/etc. before. and probably almost threw up out of guilt.

Swansea

Does the dad cold start every morning. Hacking. Coughing. Spitting up in the sink. It’s gross.

When he takes a shit he’s stuck in the bathroom for like half an hour at least. It’s always oddly humid and gross if you go in after him.

Chews with his mouth open.

Walks around shirtless only in underwear and will proudly fart whenever he needs to and it’s loud as fuck.

His kids lowkey hate him tbh. 💀 they have a better relationship as adults but man. Rocky fucking childhood.

Nothing ever really makes him satisfied or truly happy so you’re stuck in this weird limbo on if he actually gives a shit about you or not.

Rolls his eyes at you. When you can plainly sees he has suuuuch an attitude problem it’s crazy.

Definitely has asked for a manager in your presence over something minuscule (you wanted to die)

[thatbitchery]

Random reminders because I'm in a random posting mood lately

What you engage with you tolerate. That's how you say yes- engagement. The second you respond to it you give the signal you tolerate it. Attention and engagement= yes.

You have free will. You can literally just- not. You can just - fuck this shit and go. You can leave mid dentist appointment. You can just walk out on a bad date. You can just not respond to that text literally. You have free will you can literally just not. You can just ignore it. You can just delete. You can just go for a drive at 3 am. You can just cancel. You can just jump on a plane. You can just drop that course and do what you want. You can just block. Unfollow. Disengage. Say yes. Ask them out.You have both free will and an ID. Add adult money to that equation and this world is yours.

If you are not their parent don't parent them? Why are you teaching a fully grown adult basic manners what are you doing. Why are you having relationship problems with people you are not in a relationship with what even is that. If someone has an issue with you it's THEIR job to tell you they have an issue with you and yours to choose whether or not you want to do something about it? Why are you *are you mad uwu 🥺* people if they are mad they can tell you? If not that's a them problem? At which point did you become everyone's moderator and how much are you getting paid? If it's not your child (or a child. Below 15) don't raise it?

If you're not a machine don't decode. If someone can't come at you straight that's a them problem. We respond to passive aggressiveness with literal logic. If someone wants to degrade you they have to come at you direct, not send subs ? At this big age we are still responding to sarcasm and backhanded shit. If you said you're running a bakery and uncle Andrew tries to degrade that by *oh and how much will that make* you give him actual statistics and move on. If girl *that dress is so pretty* when she means the opposite you just *I'd hope so* and move on. We don't decode underlying statements and meanings we give a literal answer and treat people like adults that mean exactly what they say. (PS, CoC has such a great video on this where they call it the child's reply method. Children don't read under they just answer. That's what we do we don't read under if someone has something to say, they say it direct).

Mind the business that pays you.

Argument is sibling and husband privilege everyone else is right and you are wrong. Stop needing people to validate your reality, trust yourself. Argument is just to feed your ego I know you know no one is changing their opinion because you *owned* them in some argument it just makes you feel like you're a big deal- get a degree it has the same effect plus credibility. Argument is sibling and husband privilege. Everyone else is right. You're wrong. You're sorry you breathed the same air as them .move on. Stop engaging your ego (and other's) and learn how to not get triggered. Your reality is real to you and you're the only person it needs to be real to. Let it go. Study if your ego needs pumping so bad. *Destroying* someone in an argument was an adolescent thing, grow up. Validate yourself and learn to trust your thoughts and feelings and interpretation of the world so you stop needing everyone to cosign to be okay. Be someone formidable so you stop needing to earn it by stepping everyone else down.

"Okay. And?" . See this statement? <- . This one right here. This, this is the one. Not even with others as much as with you. In your life. Okay he didn't text back. Okay , and? Okay you don't have enough money for it. True. And? Then what? What next ? And this is an actual question that needs a real answer not some faux bad bitch mantra. An actual answer, now what ? What then? What next?

We don't deal with problems we don't have. Here, in this house? In this house we cross that bridge when we get there, we don't anticipate there might be a bridge that we might need to cross and then we will need shoes and- stop creating problems to solve. Come back to the present. Come back to the room. Solve the problems you have now, move on. When you get there, you'll know what to do. You have adaptability and a working brain you'll be fine. You're not weak. You're not stupid. You're not a newborn. You've survived worse and there are such things a survival mechanisms that you were born with. What's the point of being stressed twice, now and then?

[the-offside-rule]

Castiel Novak (Supernatural) - Baby Winchester

Requested: yes

Prompt: Cas being like a guardian angel to Y/n and Dean's baby

Warnings: none

Y/n stirred awake to the faint sound of her daughter’s cries through the baby monitor. She squinted at the clock on the nightstand; 3:14 am. Beside her, Dean was sprawled on his stomach, snoring softly, clearly exhausted from his recent hunting trip. She sighed, her heart swelling with affection. He needed rest. Silently, she reached over, turned off the baby monitor, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Thisis for your own good, Winchester." She whispered before slipping out of bed.

Padding softly down the hall, she stopped at her daughter’s room. The dim nightlight cast a soft glow across the nursery, and her breath hitched when she noticed someone standing by the crib. "You know, peopleusually knock before they come in." She said, gently knocking on the doorframe. Castiel turned sharply, startled. "Y/n. I apologize. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave now." She stepped inside, her expression calm. "It’s okay. What are you doing here?" Castiel shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering back to the baby. "I… thought something was wrong." He said, but the lie was transparent, his usual stoicism faltering. Y/n chuckled softly. "Cas, you’re a terrible liar. What’s really going on?"

He sighed, looking at the baby. "It… has no arms." Y/n blinked before realizing what he meant. "Oh no, Cas. She’s swaddled. Here, look." She gently unwrapped the blanket, freeing her daughter’s tiny arms. "See? She’s fine." Castiel tilted his head, his intense blue eyes studying the baby. "Ah. I see. My mistake." He stepped back awkwardly. "Well, if I’m not needed-"

"Wait-" Y/n interrupted, her tone warm. "I need to feed her anyway. Would you like to hold her and feed her downstairs?" His eyes widened slightly. "You would trust me with this?" Y/n chuckled at the ever-so-serious face Cas had made so many times before. "Of course. You're a literal angel." She said, scooping her daughter up. "Come on." He hesitated, then nodded, following her downstairs.

In the living room, Castiel perched stiffly on the armchair, glancing around the cozy space as Y/n went to the kitchen to prepare a bottle. When she returned, she handed him the baby, guiding him on how to hold her properly. "Like this." She said, adjusting his hands. "Support her head." After a moment, he frowned. "No, no. Take it back. I fear I might break it." Y/n laughed softly. "Cas, you won’t break....it. Just relax." She handed him the bottle. "Now, feed her."

Castiel began feeding her, his expression softening as he watched the baby suckle. "Oh wow. Humans are remarkable." He murmured. "So fragile, yet so resilient. Especially the little ones." Y/n smiled, settling onto the couch. "You’re practically human yourself, Cas. You’re pretty remarkable too."

Before Castiel could respond, footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Dean appeared, holding a crowbar. His serious expression melted into one of surprise when he saw Castiel feeding their daughter. "What the hell’s going on?" Dean asked, setting the crowbar down. "Why’d you turn off the baby monitor? I thought something was wrong." Y/n shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I wanted you to get some sleep. You looked exhausted."

"Why’d you say that this was for my own good? I thought you were possessed or something." Dean added. "And ypu didn't stop me then and there? You figured an extra ten minutes of beauty sleep would've helped you fight a demon better?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze shifting to Castiel. "And what’s he doing here?" Y/n grinned. "Found us a babysitter." Castiel looked up. "I would be adequate for that position."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "As long as you don’t teach her any bad habits." Y/n scoffed, smirking at Dean. "I’d trust Cas to be a better influence than you." Dean smirked back, dropping onto the couch beside her. "You'd trust Cas?" She nodded. "I like Cas." Dean grabbed the remote and pulled her in closer. "You like me a lot too though, right?" She didn't answer, instead she grinned over to Cas. "Don’t give him that look. I know you two are gonna plot something against me soon enough."

"What? You don't live with Sam anymore so I can't plot anythin with him anytime soon."

[artificialbreezy]

Hi!!!

I’m here with another thought but it’s Jacky boy this time 😌😌

Best friend! Jack who is extremely possessive and doesn’t like you hanging out with other guys cause he’s actually in love with you and thinks you don’t haha the same feelings for him.

(P.S I’m gonna give myself a lil emoji so that you know it’s me 😂😂)

😈

oh my god, let’s FUCKING GO

CW: friends to lovers, Jacks pov! this is fully unedited.

it was never a thought that crossed your mind that your bestest friend in the whole world would ever look at you the way you look at him.

so you did what any person would, you push the heart eyes as far down as possible and try to move on.

one thing that Jack was big on was location sharing. the world is scary and he wants you safe, and the same peace of mind for you. especially with how often he isn’t home.

so when he’s in Toronto, he checks your location and sees you at a bar? you don’t go to bars, especially alone. it’s like pulling teeth to get you out.

“hey Flower! facetime in 15?” the text read.

when 30 minutes past and he saw no text back, he sent another.

“you okay? you’re at the bar. are you by yourself?”

“no Jack. why would i be by myself at a dive bar?”

he felt himself getting irritated. where did this attitude come from? you’re never snippy with him.

he sighs as he presses the little button, listening to the line ring.

“yes Jack?”

“go home. i’m calling you an uber. whoever you’re with will be fine. you’re going home.” he spoke, stern. leaving no room for arguing. immediately hanging up.

the only communication from him until he got home was the text your uber arrived and a “glad you’re home safe.”

the pounding on his front door pulled him away from his call with Quinn. listening to his brother ramble on his ear how he should just tell you how he feels instead of being a fucking weirdo.

“Quinn, gotta go. she’s here and she looks mad.” he spoke as he’s hanging up.

your hand was flat against his chest, pushing him into his apartment. you may be mad, but you’re not causing a scene in the hall. “you have some fucking nerves Hughes. you not only crash my date but then you full fucking ghost me? the fuck is your problem? game go sour so you take it out on me?”

he smiled at her, the red of her cheeks spreading up her neck a little. she’s hot when she’s mad.

“oh! okay! you stay silent then! i’m leaving. fuck this and fuck you.” she’s turning around, all but stomping back to my door.

“sit the fuck down, Flower. you’re not going to come into my home with all this attitude and not give me a god damn second to tell you why. so sit down, and shut up. 5 minutes is all i need.”

there she goes, huffing and puffing. at least she’s sitting down.

“i texted you. i asked to call. you never ignore me, you never say no to a facetime. i checked your location and asked if you were okay. you took a second so i texted your friend and she said you were on a date with her coworker. it was late, i know you hate bars and i wanted you home and safe. i’m sorry i went ghost. i was stuck in my head. i didn’t know how to tell you. Quinn said i was stupid. he’s right. i am. you’re my best friend and i shouldn’t feel bad about this. i just, i don’t wanna be your friend anymore.” he took a breath, seeing tears swell up in your eyes. “i want to be more.”

it felt like his world stopped. there was a silence he didn’t like. he didn’t know what you were gonna do or even say. you felt unreadable for the first time in 13 years.

“Jack,” she whispered. “what do you mean by more?”

“ideally i’m your husband but ill settle for boyfriend for a while.” he found himself playing with the back of his hair, that nervous movement he’s done forever.

“you’re not just saying this? please tell me you’re not joking.” her tears kept falling and his heart ached. why would he joke about this? why would she think he was fucking with her?

he didn’t trust his voice, knowing he’d just cry with her. he knelt down in front of her, his hands resting comfortably on her cheeks. leaning forward just enough that his lips were hovering hers. “i’m so serious, flower.”

“kiss me then.”

didn’t need to tell Jack twice.

[kaisercest]

peek !!

content warning: Fem!Reader. Hiori being sadistic (canon) and reader. Mentions bruises, small cuts, and wounds. Shibari is also mentioned. Isagi taking a peek at Hiori’s phone without consent. Nonconsensual looking at intimate photos of Hiori’s gf. Impact play was mentioned as also tools like paddles. Discussions about safeword and aftercare. The reader is implied to be into really girly stuff like lacey outfits, etc. IDK man…. I just went crazy after seeing Hiori’s fetish 'cause that shit is wild. Didn’t expect this to be 1k words LOL I got carried away.

Isagi didn’t mean to take a peek at Hiori’s phone but he can’t help it since his teammate doesn’t always leave his phone open and this seems to be a perfect chance for him to get to know himself better. He guesses that he will find many games on his phone which is proven true when he swipes through his phone screen and sees many games lined up on the screen; he sees that all his guesses are right but not when he accidentally clicks Hiori’s gallery. 

What he didn’t expect was to be greeted by multiple albums, one of them labeled as “My Girl ⋆. 𐙚 ˚”, the latest picture is a girl with her pair of bruised legs bent to her chest and he can see the lacey pink socks adorning the ankles of the said girl. Is this his girlfriend? What kind of pictures are these? He saw that there were multiple pictures of the girl doing different poses showing off her injuries such as bruises, small cuts, and red spots adorning her body which Isagi figured as hickeys. 

Isagi’s still confused about why Hiori has a whole collection of a girl showing off her injuries in such….. a peculiar and sensual way—there’s something intimate with how she looks in every picture. He sees the bruises on her legs showing different shades ranging from blue, black, purple, and red—Hiori’s fetish….? Are girls that are hurt? What? Thoughts are forming in his head on why his friend finds that arousing. How are pictures of a girl showing her injured self hot? Is it cute? What’s the reason behind these pictures? He continued to scroll through the album and he found photos of the girl naked showing the rope marks on her body—shibari…. Alongside the pictures of her posing with her neck adorned with multiple hickeys and a bite mark on the far left side of her collarbone. Isagi felt his shorts tighten and before he could figure out his mind Hiori snatched his phone away from his hands. “Hiori! I didn’t mean t—” Isagi blurts but before he could defend himself Hiori already cut him off. “It’s okay, Isagi-kun. I know you didn’t mean it.” Hiori smiled at him and Isagi couldn’t help but feel nervous even though it was the usual smile Hiori would give him when they were talking casually. He felt something off. “

“So… Uhm.. Is that… your girlfriend?” he asks. “Yeah, ain’t she pretty?” Hiori replied. Isagi gulped when he was asked the question. What was he supposed to reply? Would he get mad if he told him ‘yes’? Would it be hypocritical of him to say ‘no’ even if he felt himself getting hard looking over the pictures? Fuck it. 

“Yeah…. Yes, your girlfriend’s really pretty. But…. why?” Isagi replied, hesitant to ask about the contents of the album.

“Why, what?” Hiori asks, confused about what Isagi meant.

“The album. Why is she always injured? Why do you have an album of her bruises… wounds… everything that shows that she’s hurt?” 

“Ah… it’s just…. hot.” Hiori replied with a smirk.

What….? He never thought that the casual peeking over Hiori’s phone would lead to a situation like this. What is he even supposed to reply with that fucking answer? Isagi swore that he didn’t expect Hiori to have a sadistic side to him as he just casually admitted that he finds injured girls hot and that he has a whole-ass album of his girlfriend posing and showing her bruises and shit. 

“She’s also into it. She does it for me since she knows I like it. She would sometimes bump into stuff so that she could have bruises but most of the time…. She just gets them since she’s kinda clumsy. It’s cute. Sometimes she asks me to do it.” Hiori explained as he saw how Isagi was confused over the whole arrangement that he and his girlfriend had.

“Ask you to do what?” He knew he shouldn’t have asked as he felt scared of what Hiori’s about to say on his question. He saw him smirk and felt like he was about to hear the most freakiest shit ever. And he knows that he’s not wrong.

“Ask me to hurt her. She likes it the most when I do it to her. She has sensitive skin so she bruises easily. I usually just slap her with my bare hands or use a paddle or the end of the brush to give marks to her. She gets marks easily, that's why I love her. She’s like a doll for me to use.” Hiori said with a slight smile, remembering the times when he gave her girlfriend marks to take a picture and store it in his album. 

Fuck. Isagi felt himself harden through his shorts. He’s sure that Hiori knows about it and is thankful that he still didn’t point out the fact that Isagi’s hard over the fact that he’s explaining his sadistic escapades with his girlfriend. 

“I know you’re confused and probably scared but of course, she gives me her consent every time. I stop if she says her safeword and I take care of her marks afterwards. It’s all consensual, Isagi-kun. I won’t do anything that would make her uncomfortable, she’s my girlfriend after all. It’s all right for us both ways, we both want it.” He adds to comfort Isagi who’s about to explode from all of the information that he’s given from Hiori.

“I know. It’s just—” Isagi starts.

“Just what? Don’t act like you didn’t get hard looking at my girlfriend’s pictures on the album. You’re probably gonna get off this later.” 

“Yeah— Fuck, yeah. I’m sorry.” he apologizes as he feels guilty feeling like this over his friend’s sexual life and girlfriend.

“It’s okay. If you want…… I’ll show you her bruises in real life. You might even get to touch her, Isagi.” Hiori replied with a smirk towards the end of his statement and walked away from the locker room where they were staying.

Just like that Isagi felt that his head had gone to heaven after hearing what Hiori said. It’s safe to say that Hiori had a good time talking to Isagi about his fetish and lover and felt euphoric texting his girlfriend during the night as they talked about what happened in the locker room. Hiori felt excited about going home and meeting her so that they could finally discuss adding lots of pictures to his album. 

bro i fucking #hate hiori (i love his ass, he's so me....)

forget the fact that idk how to write dialogues.... lmfao! im trying ok...

kindly REBLOG guys cuz i need that motivation fr... i need to write more

[b3ach-bunn7]

NONSENSE

You're horrible at technology, and find yourself fliriting with you university's IT customer service.

University!au, noquirk!au, fluff

(side note i love shinsou hitoshi)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sure your stupid shitty laptop could break world records with how useless and slow it is.

You don’t think you’re much better. You study veterinary medicine so you can name every bone in a cat's ass but it would take you ten years to figure out how to send a Word document to somebody. The only up to being so horrible at technology, is your university has an IT customer service. 

It’s weird and you don’t really understand how it works, but according to the front page, you can call anytime from 10am to 3am. With the clock ticking minutes before your submission date, and with an essay due tomorrow, you decide it will be less embarrassing to confess you have no idea how to work the university’s submission system, than not submit at all. You dial the number quickly, biting your thumbnail as it rings a couple times before it picks up. The person on the other line barely said their hellos before you started rambling.

“Okay, I know this is really stupid, but I cannot figure out how to attach my submission to this stupid fucking- I mean, this stupid system. And I have like, twenty minutes before my submission date, so I’d really appreciate any help you can give me.”

“Why would you leave your submission so last minute?” 

You frown. You’re unaware that customer support could be so sassy. And also attractive. At least his voice is. It’s smooth and soft, and you press your phone closer to your ear to hear him better. 

“Uhm. I don’t need the sass, thank you, I need the help.” You drawl, clicking at your laptop aggressively.

There’s a little chuckle of amusement on the other end of the line. “Apologies, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?”

“Would you prefer sir?”

Your face twists in annoyance. “I’d prefer you to help me.”

“Alright, alright. Okay, so enter the module the work is for, scroll to the bottom.” He pauses slightly so you can follow his instructions.

“Okay.”

“Then click the three dots on the top left. Where it says enter, click that and select your file, then submit.”

“Oh. Why doesn’t the button say submit. Instead of fucking enter.” You grumble, quickly attaching your work and handing it in.

“Not sure. I’ll let the university know.” He says, faux sympathy coating his voice.

“That’d be nice.” You glanced at your phone. You’re not sure what exactly happens now.

“So. Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

“Do I just. Hang up? Now that you’ve helped me?”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again. “Unless you wanna keep me company for the rest of my shift?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You hang up, trying to ignore the small smile on your own face as you do it. You don't have to miss him for long though, because you find yourself calling them back only a few days later after the wifi in your room refuses to work. 

You turn it off, then on. You carry your laptop all around your flat and hold it up to the ceiling knowing it won’t make a single difference. You ask your roommate and she is having no issue. It’s only when you’re about two seconds from snapping your laptop in half before you realise you’re not even connected. And after you find out your roommate is fine once more, you find yourself scrolling through your call history to find the IT number.

“UA University IT Services, how can I help?”

 You gape. “It’s you again!”

“Hey, it’s submission girl.” He grins. “You forget it’s called enter again?”

You roll your eyes. “Ha ha. I’m not calling for your horrible comedy, I'm calling because my WiFi isn’t working. You can help me with that, right?”

He groans into the phone. “Do I have to?”

“Yes you have to. It’s your job, IT guy.”

“I suppose. Since you asked me so nicely.”

You sit up in your bed. “Okay. What should I do?”

“Are you sure it’s not just the WiFi being shitty?” He asks.

You hum questionably. “No, I don’t think so. I asked my roommate and she said that hers is fine. And it’s also saying disconnected.”

You pause for a minute. “Wait, how do you know the WiFi is shitty?”

He snorts a laugh. “I’m a student too, idiot. I have to deal with shitty wifi as well.”

“Oh.”

You’re not shocked per say. He certainly doesn’t sound like a middle aged man you’d imagine working in IT. It’s nice to confirm though. And the fact that he is probably around your age means you can keep finding his voice hot.

“What, do I sound that old?”

Definitely not. “Yeah.”

“Shut up. You sound worse.” He mumbles and you tut. 

“Horrible customer service. I’m filing a complaint.”

A small laugh is heard from the other line. “I’d rather you didn’t. Rent is not cheap here.”

You lay back on your bed, dragging your laptop up on your knees. “You live in the student dorms?”

“Well, duh. I am a student, after all.” 

You roll your eyes. “What year are you?” “Second.”

“Hey, me too! How old are you?” “Should I be concerned by these questions?”

“Not if you answer.”

He replies that he’s nineteen, just like you. You wonder if you’ve seen him around before. Maybe he’s even in the same course as you. You could ask for his name, but you think that might be a little weird. That, and you sort of love the mystery around the man. Who knew being so useless at technology would lead to such great things?

Your laptop flickers off, and it’s only then you remember that you called him for a reason. You tap the keyboard and it lights back up, and your anger flares up once more. You huff, and IT guy seems to remember why you called too.

“Right, your wifi. You said it’s working for your roommate?” He asks.

“Yeah. And it’s working on my phone, it’s just my laptop.”

He hums, and you can hear the faint sound of clicking on the other line. “What building are you in?” You raise an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned by these questions?”

“Not if you answer.”

You smile. “I’m in 4A.”

He takes another few seconds, and you lean your head back on your bed as you wait for him to say something. 

“Alright. Your password should be, ‘uab4a’. You wanna try type that in?”

You groan, sitting up again. “I have, like six hundred times. But okay.” You huff, doing it once more.

Nothing. You sigh, defeated. All you want to do is watch some Netflix. 

It takes about five tries before IT guy finally starts to get stressed out with you. He tells you to click different things, turn your laptop on and off, restart it. You follow all his instructions to no avail, and you shake your head.

“You know what, maybe I’ll just watch Netflix on my phone.” You sigh, said phone now on speaker and thrown on your bedsheets.

IT guy tuts. “None of that talk. I just don’t understand. We’ve tried literally everything. The only way I-”

Suddenly the other line goes quiet. You grab your phone to check he didn’t hang up and you see that it’s now been 18 minutes of you two on the phone together. 

“Why have you gone all quiet?”

“Is your caps lock on?”

You bark a laugh. “Right. Like I’m that stupid to-”

You look down. The little light next to your capslock button is flashing, and your face heats red and IT guy starts cackling down the other line. You write the password once more, in lower case this time, and you let your face fall in your hands at the sign of four wifi bars flashing back at you.

“Oh my god.” You mumble, and IT guy just keeps laughing.

“Oh- Oh my god, you idiot.”

“Shut up! I dont- How did I not realise?” You cry, slamming your laptop shut.

IT guy takes a deep breath. “I really don’t know.”

You shake your head, putting the phone back up to your ear. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” You mumble.

“Aw, don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I think you’re the only person that calls this line, anyway.”

You decide to ignore the nickname, and the tingle it leaves in your gut, and nod. “Good, then. I’m keeping your job for you.”

“So kind. Alright, go watch your show.”

“Night, IT guy.”

“Goodnight.”

Over the next two weeks, you end up calling a handful of times. Your password needs resetting, you accidentally deleted a file. Each inane task ends up with the two of you sitting on the phone for ages afterwards. You learn that he’s an insomniac, and that’s why he always works the night shift. He also lives in building 5B, which is about a ten minute walk from your place. The fact he’s so close, that you could go see him right now, taunts you in the back of your mind everyday. The fact that he was in your university, that he could be your classmate or someone walking around campus. 

But, like all things, your horrible internet habits mellow out. After a few days of no problems, you find yourself missing him. You’ve only spoken a handful of times, but he’s funny. He’s sarcastic and a little mean, but in a good way, a way that makes you a little giddy. And of course, now that you want issues, it’s so much harder for you to find some.

Over wine poured in mugs and reruns of you confess to your roommate your situation. She’s a little skeptical of the lack of identity, but she thinks you should just call him again. It couldn’t hurt, right? Worse case scenario, you hang up and the two of you never have to speak again. But best case scenario, you can have a conversation that’s actually about something meaningful. And you can get called sweetheart again.

It takes another two days for you to build up the courage, despite your friend’s support. You wait until it’s late, remembering that he told you he works the night shift, and anxiously dial the number.

“UA University IT Services, how can I help?” His voice sounds bored, automated, but you recognise it immediately.

“Hey, IT guy.” 

You hear a shuffle on the other end. “Hey, it’s my favourite customer.”

“It’s me.” You say nervously.

“So, what is it today? WiFi on the fritz again?” He teases. 

It takes a second for the words to get out. “Uh, no, I. I actually don’t need help with anything today.”

“Okay. So what’s the call for?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Silence. Oh god. You immediately cringe, and you are never listening to your roommate again, because she’s always wrong and stupid.

“Really?” He says quietly.

You swallow. “Really really. Don’t sound too excited.” You joke and he laughs.

“Trust me, I am. I wanted to talk to you again too, but I had no way to. The numbers on our end don’t get saved after every call, so. I was waiting for you.”

You perk up at his words. “Really?” “Really really. I also couldn't ask around. I doubt you go by submission girl in your everyday.”

You walk into your room, hopping into bed. You lay down on your stomach, and place your phone in front of you, resting your face on your arms.

“No, not particularly. Wouldn’t it be weird, though? If we actually knew each other in person this whole time and we never knew?” “Nah, I doubt it. Think I’d remember a pretty voice like yours.”

Your face flushes. “Shut up. ” You say, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool you down.

He snorts a laugh. “What do you study?”

“Veterinary medicine.”

“Wait, that’s sick. Do you get to see cats?”

You grin. “Yes! I volunteered at a shelter last summer, they were so cute.” 

He hums. “I love cats. I have one, you know.”

You eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Here? On campus? Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Nobody knows about her. We won’t get caught/ She's a good girl, she isn't loud or anything. And my roommate in under sworn secrecy.” He says.

Good girl. There's no way he isn’t talking like that on purpose. You nod your head even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, and what if she came to live with me?” You ponder, and he scoffs.

“I’m not co-parenting my cat with you.”

You’re lucky enough that your room faces the setting sun and now, a soft orange glow covers your room. It’s just cold enough that you’re wearing a hoodie and your fluffiest socks, but your window is still open to freshen the air. There’s a vanilla scented candle on its last life on your bedside table, and you prop your phone up against it and lean back in your bed.

“I could report you, you know. They’ll kick you out the uni.”

IT guy pouts. “You don’t want that to happen. Then you’ll never see how beautiful I am in real life.”

You snort a laugh. “Well, what do you look like? So I know what to avoid on campus.”

He hums thoughtfully for a moment. You yourself have spent countless minutes wondering. Is he tall? Short? Blonde, or brunette, or maybe he’s bald. You have no idea. 

“Well. I’m like, 6’1.”

“Yum.”

“Shut up.” He chides, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “And I have like. Kind of long hair. And I always look sleep-deprived, 24/7.”

“Night shifts will do that to you. What colours your hair?”

“Hm. No.”

You protest. “What do you mean no?”

“It’s a dead giveaway! I want to keep some of my mystery.”

He asks you what you look like. You give him the same cryptic descriptions he gave you. 

“Wow. I can find you easily now.” He drawls and you grin.

“No matter. We’ll meet one day.” You say.

The two of you end up staying on the phone for hours. It’s unfair how easily you find things to talk about. He tells you about his course, Psychology, and you listen as he rambles in your ear about studies and experiments. As it gets later his voice gets deeper, lacing deliciously with sleep as his voice rumbles in your ears. The time wears on and your eyes start to blink heavily. You look at the time and it’s been three hours.  Unfortunately, you are not like IT guy, and not only do you have classes tomorrow, but you need sleep to function. 

You yawn heavily. “Look, I hate to be a buzzkill but I gotta sleep. I’ve got a ten am tomorrow.” 

“Boring. But fine. I’ll, uh. Talk to you later.”

You nod sleepily. “Night.”

You reach your phone over to hang up but IT guy’s voice rings out, scratchy through the speaker.

“Wait! I- Can I give you my number?”

That’s enough to wake you up.

You sit up on one elbow, rubbing at your eyes. “Your what?”

“Phone number? It’s those numbers you dial in when you wanna call me.”

“It’s too late for sarcasm.” You scowl.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s just I’d like to have a way to communicate with you. And call you. And text, or whatever.”

You smile slightly. “Okay. Yeah, of course you can.”

He reads out his number and you jot it down. He hangs up soon after and you send him a quick text.

September 17th 

01:20 am

You: goodnight IT guy 😁

IT guy: Goodnight  💜

Life gets much easier with his phone number. Now you can text him during your lectures, during the walk to and from your work. He calls you during his shifts and you keep him company for as long as you can before you fall asleep. Which you have embarrassingly done a few times.

He sends you pictures of his cat. A cute black one called Pesto. You ask for the meaning behind that and he said he was eating pesto pasta when he got her. There’s one picture where you can see his hands in the corner, fingers long and slender and you have to stop looking before your thoughts take a dangerous turn.

Theres a time, maybe a week in, that things between you shift. The playful flirting is upped, and the conversations between you become more meaningful. You start anxiously awaiting a text back, face flushing at the stuff he says sometimes. Maybe it isn’t the smartest idea to fall for a guy who you don’t really know, but you don't care.

He knows Denki, for one. You’d mentioned the name and he’d perked up. Denki was an energetic guy you met at a house party once. And if IT guy is friends with him then that's more than enough confirmation for you that he isn’t a freak.

You tell him more about what you look like. You haven’t sent a picture, but you think he might know enough to catch you on campus. He still hasn’t told you much else, and he confesses to you one night that he’s nervous about it.

IT guy: I don’t wanna be a buzz kill but I’m scared ur gonna be disappointed

You: literlaly shut up

You: idc if u look like a troll

IT guy: right

You: or an ogre

IT guy: is this supposed to make me feel better

You: YES

You: look what im trying to say that i genuinely don’t care because i like u regardless of all that

You: ur smart and ur funny and ur mean but ina good way

You: and u hace a cute cat called pesto

IT guy: so ur using me for my cat?

You: duh..

It’s been two days since that conversation, and IT guy has been much more active ever since. You’d like to think you’ve given him a little boost of confidence, but you don’t care why it’s happening. You’re just happy that it is. 

You wish you could reply to whatever he’s sent you right now, but your boss might fire you if he catches you on your phone again.

You like the coffee shop you work at. It’s a quaint little hippy spot that’s a ten minute walk from your place. The pay is good enough, and you like your coworkers. Specifically Tokoyami. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but he lets you chatter away to him every time you’re on shift together, and he always has good music recommendations for you.

Today, it’s the both of you on shift. You’re wiping down the coffee machines in the back and you can see him talking to someone at the counter. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s rare you see him talking so animatedly. So you try to get a closer look. And wow.

You don’t know who he’s talking to but you’d like to. His hair is purple. That’s the first thing you notice. It’s a lavender and it looks so soft and fluffy you want to reach out and touch it. His eyes are a deep brown, and there’s heavy bags under them, but they somehow make him look even more beautiful. He’s got a lazy smirk on his face as he says something to Tokoyami and you’re itching to reach forward and eavesdrop. But you can’t. You’re on cleaning duty. Of course you are when a cute guy comes in.

You feel a pang of guilt suddenly, when you remember IT guy. You don’t think you should be thinking about any other guys. Even really cute ones. You get your head down and keep wiping. It’s only a moment later when you hear a crash and your head shoots up. Something happened out in the shop, and a moment later Tokoyami pops his head in the kitchen.

“Someone spilled some shit on the floor. Can you take Shinsou?” 

Shinsou. Tokoyamis told you about him before. A friend from university, or something like that.

“The purple haired guy?”

“Yep.”

“Gosh, the famous friend I’ve heard so much about. You never mentioned he’s so cute.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, sorry but. He’s got a little girlfriend texting thing going on.”

You tell him you were only joking and he just pushes you out to the front. You peek a look at Shinsou and he’s looking off into the distance. Deliciously so.

You check his order and it’s just a black coffee. Simple enough. You make quick work of the drink, humming something under your breath as the machine whirls to life. You write his name on the cup in sharpie, and fill it up, pressing the lid and slipping on a cover so he doesn’t burn his hands.

You walk up to the counter. “Hiya. You’re Shinsou? Tokoyami’s friend? He’s mentioned you before. All good things.” You smile as you slide the drink over.

And Shinsou looks back at you like you’ve got two heads. Or like you’re the most shocking thing he’s ever seen in your life. You step back a bit, slightly nervous at the shocked expression on his face.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, your smile falling a little.

“No. I mean yes! It’s-“ 

And it’s as he’s stuttering through his words you hear it. That voice. That same deep, smooth voice you’ve been flirting with over the phone. And you’re sure your face now looks like Shinsou is the most shocking thing you’ve ever seen in your life. Your face heats up and he doesn’t look shocked for much longer because that same unfairly attractive smirk graces his face.

He leans forward slightly. “Is this submission girl in the flesh?”

“Oh my god. IT guy?” 

His smirk widens into a grin. “I go by Shinsou, but. You can call me that too.” 

You roll your eyes to the side but you can’t help but keep them on him, an incredulous look on your face. “You were worried for us to meet? You’re fucking hot.” You say.

And he looks even better when the tops of his cheeks dust the slightest red. You smile, leaning forward on the counter. 

“Thank you. And you’re beautiful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Even in my gross work apron?”

“Especially in your gross apron, sweetheart.” 

You feel like giggling like you’re fourteen with a crush again. You brush a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“You’re not working tonight, right?” You ask.

He shakes his head and purple locks of hair dance around his face. Slender fingers grab the cup and take a sip. 

“Perfect. We’re going out.”

Shinsou tilts his head to the side. “Shouldn’t I be asking you out? Seems much more traditional that way.”

“We met on our uni's customer service number. I don’t think anything about this is traditional.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

guys i LAAAAUUUVVVVV shinsou and like he does not get enough attention or love or fics....... it makes me wanna scream

also this nearly took a steamy turn... with that cellular device.... but i did not because i cba

also i noticed that jason todd fics do so wel compared to my other stuff?? maybe cause hes not as popular but i will keep that in mind my people.

i hope u all enjoyed this! <3

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 21 - Sorry Go 'Round

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 10k words. OK so what now? Surly there are no more surprises right?

CW: +18 content MDNI. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, PiV sex, nightmares, alcohol, mental health, mentions of miscarriage, angst.

AN: It feels good to be back.

Previous - masterlist - next

AO3

enjoy <3

She’s alive. It almost doesn’t feel real.

She stood there though, in the garden, and she was real. Your hand goes to your braid running it through your fingers. You moved on. You had let her go but now she’s here. You should be happy but instead there's nothing. Just guilt, and anger. You're angry at yourself for the way you acted, guilty that you punished John for so long. There’s a knock on the door.

“It’s me,” John says.

“Go away!” You shout. He doesn’t though. He comes into the room, closing the door behind him. You can hear him as he sits on the bed. You stay under the covers, sniffling and letting the tears run down leaving a wet patch on the bedding.

“I thought she was dead. I mourned for her. I punished you for her death,” you say between sobs. His hand lands on your back and he rubs it through the covers.

“It’s not your fault,” he says. You scoff and crawl out from under the covers looking at him. You can smell her, and it makes you feel sick.

“When did you find out?” you ask. Maybe he’s known for days, weeks. Maybe he always knew and he lied to you all this time.

“Last night. Kate called to tell me she was on her way,” he says. You believe him. He scoots closer to you in the bed reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

“You know what’s the worst part?” you ask him as he brushes your tears away. “I broke the bond I had with her. I let her go. I don’t think I want to repair it.” Guilt fills the air. John gets up, towering above you and cupping your face in his hands.

“You don’t have to, but whatever you want, we’ll be here. We’re a pack.” You nod looking up at him. You should be happy she’s back. She’s not dead after all.

“Can we just spend some time together? That’s all I wanted to do today.” You expect him to say no. He’s going to be busy with Piper. He leans over to kiss you.

“Let me talk to Simon,” he says, breaking from the kiss and stroking your cheek. You smile back at him. He leaves the room and you lay back on the bed. The room is pretty, lit up with shades of deep orange and red. You look up at the ceiling. It would be selfish of you to not reconnect the bond. She’s not in your pack, you don’t owe her anything.

Yes you do, she gave her life for yours. You owe her your life.

John comes back quicker than you expect. He lays in the bed next to you and you hear the car start. Your head turns to the window even though you can’t see anything.

“They’re going out shopping. They’ll be back in a few hours,” he says. You smile, turning your body and wrapping your arm across his chest. You hum letting his arm squeeze you as he pulls you further up his chest.

“Why is she here now?” you ask.

“She was injured. She needed to recover before she could come,” he says.

“What happened? I want to know how it happened.” You turn your head, looking over at him. He lets out a sigh for a second.

“Okay,” he says. He explains it as you run your hand over his stomach. They found her in the basement of Hale’s mansion. They were taking her out when they found their way into the security room. They could see Hale was on the property, Shadow Company was closing in, Hale had invited investors to the property.

He was making a new lab. Piper explained the ‘contingency’ plan as John calls it. It was a perfect opportunity to deal with Hale and cover their tracks. If the mansion was destroyed there would be nothing to invest in. If Piper was dead and Hale was dead, the DOD would wipe their hands with the matter. Then 141 could be free. They could take you and go, which is what they did.

“We always planned on getting her out, but she loved you so much. She knew what she was doing and why,” he finishes.

You let out a sigh. You don’t know if this has helped or not. You’ve moved on. You’ve moved on without her but deep down you still love her.

You will always look at her like the only stable parental figure in your life. She is the mother in your life, she’s who you think of when you think of your mother. You still love her; that will never change. She has always been there for you through thick and thin. But you have a pack now. Things are different. You don’t need her as much anymore.

“I don’t regret it, letting her go,” you say after a few minutes of silence. “I regret being mad at you. It just feels like time wasted.”

“It wasn’t your fault. We all thought she was gone, you had every right to be upset with me,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Still wasn’t fair though,” you say quietly. He sighs rubbing your arm. “Promise me you won’t do anything like that. No giving your life for mine. I couldn’t live with myself if any of you did that.”

He smiles at you, his hand coming to your chin, then he leans to kiss you. Your hand presses on his stomach as you let him run over your tongue with his. He’s gentle but firm, it's the kisses you’re used to feeling from him, the ones you’ve missed.

Your hand runs further down his stomach to the waist of his pants. He hums in your mouth, his hand running down from your shoulder to the small of your back. You press your body closer to him, and his kiss becomes quicker, needy.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, breaking from the kiss and pressing your nose next to his. His breath is warm on your face. There’s an ache in your body, a need to be with him. It’s been almost a month. You’ve missed his touch, his scent, everything about him. Your fingers slip below his waistband.

“We don’t have to rush anything,” he says.

“I want to, please.” You look up in his eyes, your hand slipping further into his pants. He kisses you, his arms wrapping round you and turning you so you’re off his chest laying flat on the bed. His hand rests on your stomach. His touch is warm as he grips the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up over your breasts.

It’s like he’s testing your reaction, making sure he’s not going too fast or making you uncomfortable. You relax for him, smiling as his thumb brushes over your nipple. You moan softly. His touch sends vibrations down your spine. He leans down to kiss your stomach.

His lips are soft but his beard tickles your skin. Your hands come down to pull your top off over your head. He moves up to your chest. His tongue runs up between your breasts before moving to one of your nipples. You close your eyes, tipping your head back. One of your hands runs through his hair, massaging his scalp. He likes that, his teeth nipping at your nipples, making you rub your legs together in an attempt to quell the throb.

His free hand easily slips past the waistband of your PJ shorts and into your underwear. You spread your legs for him, his fingers imminently finding your clit. The contact is brief before he presses down between your folds, his fingers gathering some of the slick that is building up.

He pulls his mouth off your nipple as his fingers go back to rubbing your clit.

“John,” you moan, opening your eyes so you can see him. His other hand comes around your back, propping you up slightly as his fingers are gentle, slow. He’s pressing just hard enough to make your whole body relax against him. Your breathing picks up, your hands gripping the bedding. You’re rocking your hips against his hand.

“That's it, c’mon, make yourself feel good,” he says, his voice low, rumbling. It makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

He hums into your neck, his fingers moving down to your entrance. He presses two fingers into you. The stretch feels good. You forgot how thick he is, even just his fingers. You moan out gripping the bedding tighter, his fingers immediately rubbing against the spongy spot inside you. He curls his fingers as he presses kisses on your face.

You clench around him, spreading your legs as far as you can, bending your knees. The scent of vanilla fills the air, and it makes saliva build up in your mouth. You lean over and kiss him pressing your tongue against his.

His arm supports you as he speeds up, his fingers pushing you closer to the peak. He breaks from the kiss pressing his forehead against yours. You still have a hand running through his hair. You grip it tighter, panting as you cum, pulsing around his fingers. He slows down his movements, riding you through the orgasm.

His lips come back to yours. This time, he kisses you deep. He moans in your mouth like he’s drinking you up. He breaks away, letting you breathe, then his arms leave you to pull his shirt over his head. You reach out just wanting to be able to touch him. You run your hand up to his pecs.

He reaches down, picking your hand up before kissing your fingers.

“Missed your alpha, huh?” he says. You blush nodding. He smiles quickly, kissing your fingers again. He swings himself off the bed reaching down to undo his belt and pull his pants off. You do the same, still laid on the bed, shimmying your pyjama bottoms and underwear off.

You fling them off the bottom of the bed before going up to look at John scooting his way back towards you. You put your hand out to stop him. He looks confused for a second. You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I want to try something,” you say. He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he says somewhat skeptically.

“Lay down,” you say. He follows your instructions, laying back, his head resting on the pillows. You’re not really sure what you’re doing but you want to try what you learned from Johnny and Kyle. You kneel down next to him sitting back on your legs. His cock is already hard. He’s bigger than Johnny. All of the sudden you don’t know if you’ll be able to do this, but you want to try anyway.

You reach out for his cock rubbing your thumb over the swollen head. You remember what Kyle showed you yesterday, and you press your thumb on the underside, letting your hand work all the way down. He moans softly and you look over to see his head relaxed back on the pillows. Whatever it is you’re doing, you must be doing something right.

You bend over pressing your lips to the tip. Precum is spread across them before you thrust your mouth down him. He lets out a louder moan, his cock twitching in your mouth. You smile, you’re definitely doing something right. You keep going taking him as far as you can even if it’s uncomfortable. His hand cups the back of your neck, his thumb brushing his mark before his fingers lace through your hair.

You find yourself pushing your mouth further and further each time. You have to use both your hands when you pull back up to the top. You like making him feel good, that's your job as an omega, to make him feel good. The way his fingers brush your scalp, his little moans and twitches in your mouth let you know you’re doing a good job.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been doing it for when he shifts causing you to pull your mouth off him. His hand comes down from your head to rub your cheek.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask, your cheeks going red. Maybe you’re not as good as you thought you were.

“Oh no, you did perfect. Christ, where'd you learn to do that?”

You smile at him. He tips his head before sitting up to give you a kiss. You let his arms come round you, pulling you against him and he moves you to lay you on your back. He makes sure you’re comfy on the pillows before leaning over you.

“Now it’s my turn to take care of my perfect omega.” He smiles as you part your legs, his hand runs up your thigh. It makes goosebumps rise on your body as he maneuvers himself between your legs.

You wrap your hands around his neck. Your thumb brushes over the sensitive skin at the base of his skull. He looks down at you, his eyes glossy in the evening sun. It’ll be dark soon. You almost miss his cock pressing against your entrance. A second later he presses into you. It’s like an instant relief: your mind goes blank, no more Piper, no more worries about the future. It’s just you and your alpha, the way it should be.

“I missed you,” you breathe.

He smiles down at you, his face inches from yours. You can feel his breaths picking up as he picks up his speed.

“I’ve missed you too,” he hums in your ear. You tip your head up, baring your neck for him. You project your scent in the air. Vanilla and strawberries fills your nose. It feels so right, your alpha being inside you, his lips on yours. It feels safe and right being in his arms. It’s different from being with Johnny and Kyle. You pant into his neck. He holds you tight. You don’t need to do anything, just lay there and enjoy yourself.

You run your hands down his arms resting them on his chest. You can feel each muscle tense under your fingers. You close your eyes, arching your back slightly. Now it feels like he’s hitting you deeper, your moans becoming more frequent. His breathing picks up too and he speeds his thrusts up to match.

You’re reaching the peak quicker than you expected, your fingers curling the hair on his chest. He’s missed this too, you can tell by the way he’s not quite focused, his usual calm and collected exterior melts for you. His breathing picks up as he adjusts his angle, his moans becoming sweeter, more breathy and desperate.

“John—” You clench around him trying to stop the orgasm rising in your core. He smiles at you picking up speed again as you start to squirm under him.

“It’s okay, C’mon, you don’t have to wait. You deserve to feel good,” he says, his voice low in your ears making a tingle travel down your spine. It’s enough to push you over the edge. He doesn’t stop as you throb around him, your back arching, each part of your body almost shaking. It doesn’t take long for him to cum too, his thrusts slowing and becoming longer.

Eventually, he slows panting into your neck before he comes up to kiss you. You go back to running your fingers through his hair. He looks down at you. You smile at him and he smiles back. You don’t know if it's the post orgasm haze or the evening night but you think it’s the most beautiful he has ever looked.

He pulls out, shifting his body to lay down next to you. You lay there looking up at the ceiling watching the shadows of the trees on the wall. When your breathing slows you turn over to him, running your hand over his chest. He wraps his arms around you pressing his lips to your forehead. He pulls you tighter and you nuzzle your face into his chest breathing him in. You lay there in silence listening to his heartbeat.

“C’mon, let's get cleaned up,” he says after a few minutes. You groan as he pulls away from you, getting up off the bed. He holds his hand out and you take it following him into the bathroom. You run the bath while he goes around getting towels and fresh clothes.

He comes back, gripping your waist as you’re reaching into the bath to test the water. He presses kisses across your neck and back as you lean up against him. When the bath is full you turn the taps off letting him get in first. You lay back against his chest letting the water warm you. His arms wrap round you and he nuzzles his face into your neck, his beard tickling your skin. You lean back further against him, letting the water come up over your shoulders.

“John, are things going to change?” There’s silence for a few seconds as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Well, when we leave here are things going to be different?”

“Maybe, but you don’t need to worry about it.” You don’t know what to say. Of course you have to worry about it.

“Piper is back. You can get a cure. You don—” He shuffles, causing you to turn against his chest.

“Hey, we’re not going anywhere. We’re a pack remember. Whatever happens, we’ll make it work okay?”

You sigh at his words. You want to believe him.

“Do you trust Piper?”

“I trust her.”

You smile dipping your hand under the water letting it run down his thigh.

“She survived. Maybe—” you suck in a breath not wanting to say it. “Do you think maybe Professor Hale survived too?”

“No,” he says immediately. You smile. “He’s dead, Laswell confirmed it.”

You relax. You thought it would feel different, you thought you might miss him. You don’t. It feels right; he’s dead in the ground where he belongs.

You pull your braid out as John starts to wash you, taking his time lathering you all over with soap. You turn round in the tub kneeling between his legs to wash him. He offers to braid your hair again but you decide not to. Maybe you’ll let Piper do it again now that she’s back.

When you hear the car pull up you get out of the bath putting on fresh pajamas. John leads you downstairs, his hand on your back. When you get to the kitchen you see Johnny opening some pizza boxes.

“Thought you might need something to fill you up after all that ‘strenuous exercise’,” Johnny chuckles, nudging Kyle.

“You’re a menace,” Simon says, tapping him over the back of the head. You feel yourself blushing as you go over to sit on one of the stools.

“Try this one, no mushrooms,” Kyle says, pushing a plate with a slice on for you. You smile at him taking a bite as John comes to sit next to you. Piper is standing at the other end of the island. She’s already half way through a slice. She smiles at you too.

You look away sighing. The pizza is good but for some reason it doesn’t sit right in your stomach. You’re not really that hungry. You really want to go to bed. You push the plate away with the half eaten slice.

“I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed,” you say getting up.

“You sure?” John asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod. Maybe you’re not tired and you just want some alone time. You’re not sure. All you know is you’re not ready to talk to Piper yet, not after you’ve had such a good time with John.

When you make it upstairs you wonder where Piper is going to sleep. Maybe she’ll take your room. You don’t mind sleeping with John but you also like your own space. You go to your room cracking the door open. You don’t mind if she takes it. You head into John’s room and climb into the bed. You open one of the windows slightly so the lingering smell of vanilla will air out.

As soon as you lay down and can smell his scent on his pillows, you relax, closing your eyes and breathing it in. You’ll talk to her tomorrow, clear the air and move on. It’s what’s best for you, and what’s best for the pack.

…

You’re back in the bunker. Alarms are blaring. You can barely think. The place is dark only lit up by flashing emergency lights. You stumble out of your room. You make it into the lab and there are bodies everywhere. You can’t smell anything other than the sickly smell of fresh blood.

When you make it to the open corridor something stops you. You’ve never been far outside your room alone before. Now no one is stopping you. There are more bodies out here, you don’t recognise any of them.

A crash pulls your attention to the end of the hall. You see Piper stumbling out of a room forcing a door closed behind her. Even from this distance you can see her covered in blood, her white lab coat and blonde hair stained crimson.

She spots you and rushes towards you checking over her shoulder every now and then. You’re panicking, you can’t think, all you know is something is horribly wrong. When she reaches you, her cold hands grip your shoulders. There’s blood splashed across her face, and it’s all you can smell in the air, the smell of iron.

“Hale is coming,” she says in a panic, pressing something into your hand. You look down. It's a pistol sticky with blood. It feels heavy in your hands, and cold.

“You need to get out of here. Don’t let anyone stop you.” She’s forcing you to look at her as a bang down the hall makes you jump. The weapon feels heavy and foreign, but you don’t have time to worry about it. She grabs your arm tight, her nails digging into your skin as she drags you down the hall.

“We need to get out of here before he comes,” she says, but she’s dragging you away from the exit. You try to protest but before you get a chance to tell her, a door ahead of you crashes open. You see the Professor step out. Piper turns to look at you. He’s coming towards you. She moves out the way.

“Shoot him! You’ve got to shoot him or he’ll kill us!”

You bring the weapon up to your eye line. You’re shaking. You’re not sure what you’re doing. He steps towards you. It’s like he’s growling.

“How dare you!” he shouts, his voice ringing in your ears. Your finger moves to the trigger. You’re not even sure if you’re doing it right but you don’t care. You’re terrified and he’s coming towards you with anger in his eyes. He’s bigger than you remember, blood splashed across his face and clothes.

“Quick, if he gets to us he’ll kill us!” Piper yells in your ear. You don’t want to. Something is trying hard to stop you. A pit forms in your stomach as he speeds up his strides coming towards you. You back up but you just hit Piper. She’s screaming in your ear. You close your eyes and shoot.

…

There’s a noise louder than anything you’ve ever experienced before.

You don’t know what's happened but there’s someone pressing you hard up against a wall. It hurts and it feels like you can’t breathe. You try to cry out but you can’t. Someone is fighting with you, pulling something out of your hand.

A scream catches in your throat as you squeeze your eyes closed.

“You’re okay, hey, just breathe.” There are warm hands on your face. It’s John. You open your eyes blinking a few times looking at his face. His eyes wide; he looks worried. Whoever is holding you against the wall slowly lets you down and you stumble into his arms. He guides your body down to the floor as you bury your head in his neck. You’re not sure what happened but you’re not in the bedroom.

“What happened?” you ask, looking over his shoulder at Johnny and Kyle. Simon is the one behind you. He was the one who pinned you to the wall. You gasp seeing the pistol in Johnny's hand. Tears well up in your eyes and your stomach drops. You’ve done this before. You’ve been disoriented, shaken out of a sleep state covered in blood. Scalpel in your hand, bodies on the floor.

You break from the hug as you see Piper walking up the steps.

“Did I hurt anyone?” you ask, looking at John.

“No, you didn’t. It's okay,” he says, still holding your shoulders. Your lip quivers as you hang your head. You could have killed them. You were sleeping in the same bed as John, you could have killed him.

“I’m sorry.” You throw yourself back in his arms sobbing. He rubs your back, shushing you and telling you it’s okay. You hear footsteps, people going down the stairs. Another hand lands on your shoulder, and you assume it’s Simon. You don’t listen to what John says. Your ears are still ringing.

“C’mon, let's go back to bed,” he says after the last set of footsteps makes it downstairs. You nod, pulling your face off his chest as he helps you to your feet. He helps you into the bed then shuffles in behind you, pulling your back against his chest and locking his legs with yours.

“I could have killed you,” you say. He squeezes you tighter.

“You didn’t.”

You could have though. You could have hurt your pack.

John walks into the kitchen. Everyone is spread around, heads hung. He sighs. The air is thick with guilt. The sun is just peeking through the clouds. It took him longer than normal to get you to settle. He waited till you fell asleep, sniffling and apologising until you exhausted yourself. It was better than nothing.

“How is she?” Kyle asks.

“Sleeping,” he says. His eyes fall on Piper sitting at the dining room table.

“Should someone be with her?” Johnny asks.

“No, we need to talk. All of us,” John says, turning to Simon. He leans in and Simon tips his head towards him. “How was the trip out?”

“Interesting.”

John turns his head slightly to look over at Piper sitting at the table. He hums then looks back at Simon.

There’s something she’s not saying.

Simon moves to stand behind her next to the fireplace crossing his arms. A little bit of pressure should get her to talk.

“Have they been getting worse?” she asks as John turns to look at her.

“Better actually, this is the first time in a while,” John explains. Piper sighs looking down at her mug.

“First time she’s ever done anything this extreme,” Kyle says.

“Where did she get it from?” Johnny asks, looking at the pistol on the table.

“It was the one in the bedside table. I had no idea she even knew it was there,” John says walking over to the table where Piper is sitting.

“This has happened before in the bunker. She would sleepwalk and get into places we never thought she could get access too. She would find weapons and attack the staff,” Piper says solemnly. “It’s my fault. Sorry.”

She looks back up around the room. No one says anything. John studies her face. She was cagey during their talk, the long drive from the next town over to here. There’s something she’s holding back.

“Hale’s alive,” John says. He watches as the others take in what he just said. The only person who doesn’t react is Simon. He’s not wearing his mask right now but he might as well be.

“When did you find out?” she asks

“When Laswell called me,” John says, walking over to the table and sitting down.

“How did you manage to get out? We saw the building collapse on you,” Kyle says.

“I don’t know. Call it divine intervention if you want. I thought I was going to die.”

John hums. He doesn’t doubt that.

“How do you know Hale is alive?” Kyle asks, going to sit down at the table.

“He’s in Florida. Someone Kate knew got info for us.” She reaches down, taking a folder out of her bag. “She thought it would be better if I brought the papers in person.”

“Who was her contact?” Johnny asks.

“Keller,” John replies, opening the folder and skimming through it.

“It’s everything me and Kate managed to find on Hale and his movements,” she says. John closes the folder and puts it on the table.

“Why is he in Florida?” John asks. She presses her lips together looking round the room. That’s it. Something to do with Hale and Florida.

“Only Anderson and I knew about his house in Florida. Anderson is definitely dead,” she says. She's fidgeting. John sighs, leaning back. He keeps his eyes on her. Simon shifts standing up straight, increasing the pressure ever so slightly.

“I wasn’t completely open with you all. He’s in Florida because, that's where his daughter is buried.” She pauses to look around. John lets out a long breath. “She was the first omega. He needs omega DNA to make more of the formula. It was either dig Vanessa up or come after you.”

“Is that possible? How long has she been dead for?” Johnny asks.

“Almost 25 years,” Piper says. A somber look has fallen over her face as she grips onto the mug in her hands. “It is possible, well theoretically. Hale must have the means to do it or he would have fled the country.”

“What do you think he’s planning?” John asks. She shrugs.

“He’s still paying Shadow Company to protect him,” John says.

“They found us in Canada,” Kyle says.

“You think they could be in the UK?” Johnny asks.

“Don’t know. We have to assume the worst. Laswell is keeping an eye on things.”

“Kate had a theory. The reason Hale needs a copy of the formula is to give it to Commander Graves and the rest of Shadow Company.” Piper looks up at John to see his reaction.

“What makes her think that?”

“His assets are all tied up in real estate. He has a little bit of cash in offshore accounts but not enough to cover the cost of hiring them privately for the foreseeable future.”

“He’s building a personal army,” Kyle says. There’s a few seconds of silence.

“It would explain why he ran to Florida instead of fleeing the country. Shadow Company would have been able to get him over the border. He could have slipped under the radar. Would have taken us months to find him again,” John says. His eyes flick up to Simon.

“What if his ego is just that big he needs to have a copy of the formula? Make himself into an asset. As long as he has the formula, the US government still needs him,” Johnny says

“The US government thinks he's dead. I don’t think he cares enough about his ego to dig his daughter up. He loved her,” Piper says. There’s sadness in her voice.

“Did you know her?” John asks. She nods.

“What happened?” Kyle asked.

“The formula was unstable. Her body couldn’t handle the physical transformation. She died after a few months,” she says.

“How old was she?” John asks.

“17.” There’s silence in the room. Eventually someone sighs. Piper's head snaps up to Johnny who’s standing with his arms crossed. “That was when he disappeared for 2 years and came back with the omega.”

“And you still kept working for him?” Kyle scoffs. John can hear the spite in his voice. She just sighs, hanging her head again.

“He was trying to change the world. The formula has the potential to change the world. Do things we could only dream of seeing in our lifetime, cancer and genetic diseases eradicated, people healthy. The super soldiers were just the start. There was even research to support the potential for immortality,” Piper says, hostility in her voice. “The alpha, omega thing that’s just a side effect. That’s why he was trying to perfect the formula. It would have never been ready until he could get rid of that side effect.”

Simon scoffs, going back into the kitchen. She sighs looking back up at John.

“He wasn’t always a monster. It was after his daughter's death. Something snapped in him.”

“Sounds like you don’t disagree with him,” Kyle says.

“No. I don’t. I don’t disagree with his vision, that's why I stayed. I do disagree with his methods. What he did to the omega was wrong. She didn’t deserve everything she went through.”

This time Johnny lets out a sharp scoff.

“Okay, calm down. This isn’t helping anyone,” John says, sitting back up in his chair. “Both of you go check on her then get some rest,” he says waving Johnny and Kyle away. He hears their huffs and murmurs under their breath. He looks over at Simon, his arms crossed leaning up against the kitchen island, his eyes digging into Piper.

John sighs, leaning forward and pulling Piper's attention up to him.

“You always said you’re not one of the good guys,” he says. “I think that's the only time you’re honest with yourself.”

She keeps her gaze on him. He can see sadness in her eyes. He can smell her determination in the air.

“You don’t work for Hale anymore. What happened in the bunker is the past.”

“I know.”

“Our job is to keep the omega safe. Your job is to find a cure. We need to work together for her sake at least.”

“I won’t do anything to harm her, ever.”

“I know that.” There’s silence again, she looks down at her cup.

“I thought I was going to die. I should have died.” He can smell her guilt in the air.

“You said you had injuries that would never heal,” he says, trying to move the subject on. She nods, pulling the sleeve on her left arm up. Her whole arm is littered with uneven bumps and bright red skin. They look like burns but old ones from maybe a few months ago.

“My leg and stomach are the same. Burns can take years to heal, I don’t know how long these will take.” She pulls the sleeve back down then looks up at John pointing at her eye. “I don’t have any vision in my left eye. I don’t know if that will ever come back.”

“How about the Professor?” John asks.

“I don’t know.” John leans back in his chair.

“How much do we want to tell her? Are we going to tell her about the Professor, Vanessa?” Piper asks.

“She almost distressed at the hospital in Canada. We almost lost her,” John says, his voice low. “I don’t know what stopped her or what kept her here but I know I never want to see her like that again.”

“I understand but she will find out eventually,” Piper says. John looks up at Simon. His lips are pressed together.

“Let’s let her have some peace. It is almost Christmas after all. We can discuss it again in the new year.” He looks at Piper then over at Simon. He can tell she’s not too happy with the idea.

“Go get some rest, we’ll talk later,” John says. She nods at him and picks up her mug moving into the kitchen and putting it in the sink before heading out. Simon waits until the door is closed behind her before standing up and coming over to the table.

“What do you think?” John asks Simon as he sits down in Piper's seat.

“If Graves gets the formula, we’ve lost our advantage. Hale is preparing them to come after the omega. It could already be too late.”

“I’m not talking about that,” John sighs.

“A near death experience can change people. I don’t think she’s lying if that's what you’re asking.”

John sighs, flicking open the folder. He pulls out the top peice of paper pushing it over to Simon.

“How long do you think we’ll have before we have to move?” he asks.

John shakes his head. “Don't know. Laswell will let us know if they move.”

“She’s only one person. She could easily miss them,” Simon says. John sighs. He knows he’s right. They need to keep closer tabs on him. They need to know the second Hale or Graves make a move.

“I need to make some calls. We’re not safe here anymore.” John looks up at Simon, as he thinks of who he can ask for help. He’s going to need every contact he has. Simon reaches out, picking up the piece of paper.

“She’s right, you know. Eventually she will find out. She won’t be too happy knowing you kept it a secret.”

“I know.” He hangs his head sighing. “But I just got her back. I don’t want to lose her again.”

The next morning you decide you need to talk to Piper. Not here, though. You want to go away from the house. Away from your pack. You don’t know why, it just feels right. You walk into the living room. Everyone but Piper is in there.

“I want to go to the loch,” you say, stepping over to John. He nods, putting his mug down on the coffee table.

“Okay I’ll get changed—“

“No, I want to go alone. With Piper,” you say. Everyone looks up at you, Simon steps up next to you, his hand landing on the small of your back. You see John’s eyes flick up to him. You wait holding your breath hoping he will just let you take the time with Piper.

“Okay,” he says.

You take a step towards him. “Promise.”

“You can go,” he says. You look around the room. You’re not sure if you believe him but you have no other choice.

“Thank you,” you say, leaving the room.

…

“It’s nice here,” Piper says, as you make it around the treeline to the opening of the loch. You both walk over to the edge of the water, the snow covered stones crunching under your feet.

“I dream about this place. While you were gone I dreamt about you,” you say. She turns to look at you.

“Did you dream about me last night?” she asks. You nod, bending down to pick up a stone.

“You were trying to save me.” You throw the stone out into the water. “You handed me a gun and told me to shoot the Professor. It felt so real. They always feel so real.”

“Do you dream a lot about the bunker?” she asks, digging her toe into the stones.

“No. I dream about being a bad omega,” you say, reaching down to pick up another stone.

“Why do you think you're a bad omega?”

“Why does it matter?” you snap back at her. You’re mad. You just don’t want to talk about it. You turn the stone round in your hand.

“If you talk about it you might be able to move through some of the trauma you’re holding on to.”

“Stop analysing me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” you say, throwing the stone hard against the water. You’re frustrated and it feels like no one understands. It’s not like there’s another omega you can confide in. Piper talks like she understands but really she’s just like the Professor. She believes in the formula as much as he does.

“My job is to be bred, to have children. Satisfy my alpha and submit to him. I couldn’t even do that.”

You hear her sigh like you’ve just explained everything.

“That's what Hale wanted from you. He’s not here anymore. You get to do whatever you want to. You get to choose,” she says. You sigh, hanging your head, digging your toes into the stones. You don’t believe her. Besides, she’s the one always saying you can’t fight biology.

“I could have been a better omega,” you say, trying to hold the sob back. You haven’t spoken about what happened with anyone. You can’t talk to John; he's your alpha. You don’t want to talk to Kyle or Johnny about it. Simon well… You’re still not sure he even likes you. You failed the pack. You failed at one of the only things you need to do.

You’re not even ready to have kids. You know no one in your pack is ready to have kids, least of all with you. It’s still your job though. It’s what you were made for whether you like it or not. It’s a fundamental part of your biology, and you fucked it up.

“You weren't given a choice. What happened with you getting pregnant was out of your control. You don’t have to feel guilty about that at all.”

“I had a miscarriage. That's what they told me at the hospital.” It’s the first time you’ve said it out loud. The person you were carrying inside of you died because you were not good enough. No matter what Piper tells you, that's all you can think. That you were never good enough.

Her hand lands on your arm. “It's not your fault. Your body is not ready to carry a child to term. Professor Hale tried to force a child on you so he could have a pure omega.”

“Isn’t that my job?”

“You would have died. Your body only did what was natural. It did what it had to do to keep you alive,” she says. You look up at her. She brings her hand up to brush your tears away. Her fingers are cold, but it feels familiar, and her touch is gentle. You never thought you would see her again. You step back from her. It doesn’t feel the same. The guilt and disappointment turns to anger. You huff, balling your hands into fists.

“I mourned for you! For weeks I punished John because I thought he let you die,” you shout. Anger is strong in the air. She looks down at her feet for a second then back to you. It feels good, shouting at her, getting out the emotions you’ve bottled up for weeks.

“I know--”

“No! You don’t know. Fuck!” You turn away from her hugging your chest. You’re angry and upset. You should be happy she’s alive, that she’s here.

“I broke my bond with you. I let you go,” you sniffle, wiping the tears away. You hear her walking towards you. “You have no idea what it's like to do that!”

You’re sobbing now. You don’t care if she sees you cry. Her hand lands on your shoulder. You want to throw it off but you can’t bring yourself to do it. She comes around to stand in front of you.

“You promised you would never leave. You promised. I had to go through losing you twice!” Tingles raise up your arms. Your body is pumping with adrenaline. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“I thought I would never see you again. I thought I was going to die.” You can hear the sadness in her voice. You look up at her. You think you see tears in her eyes. Now you feel guilty. You should be happy she’s here, that she’s alive.

“Did it hurt?” you ask. Your dreams have been guilt-filled imagining her slowly dying, trapped under a building.

“No, I’m fine. Well mostly,” she says. She bends down so her head is level with yours. “Nothing that happened is your fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame Hale.”

“He’s dead.”

“Yes he is. Rotting in the ground where he deserves to be.”

You nod and throw yourself in her arms. He’s gone, he can't hurt you anymore and she’s alive. You are happy she’s alive. She wraps her arms around you and squeezes. Her scent fills your nose. You close your eyes, breathing her in. Lavender, it makes you relax against her chest.

“I thought it would feel different,” you say. She frowns at you. “When he died, I thought I would feel something, like sadness. It doesn't feel right.”

“You need closure,” she says as a matter of fact.

“How do I do that?”

“I’m not sure. We can figure something out though.”

You smile up at her. You turn back towards the lake and she steps to stand next to you.

“I like it here,” you say. Her hand comes up to rub the top of your back.

“Yeah, I thought you would.” She smiles. You stand there with her hand rubbing your back looking out over the lake until snow starts to fall.

“We should get back,” Piper says. You nod, turning away from the lake.

You’re excited when Johnny suggests going out to the pub for dinner. ‘Can’t come to the UK and not go out for some pub grub.’ He was giddy as soon as you got back, throwing his arm around your shoulders, dragging you into the living room

“I wouldn’t mind a pint,” Kyle says. Simon nods with him in agreement. After a few more minutes of convincing, John finally says yes. Piper decides to stay behind; she has work to do apparently. She waves you off though, stranding in the door as you leave.

When you make it to the town the lights strung up across the road are lit up as a sprinkling of snow starts to fall. You hold Kyle's hand as you walk through the street gawking at the flashy decorations. It’s early evening, but most places are still open and the street is still busy.

You stop at the bookstore looking at the books on display pointing out to Kyle which ones look interesting before he gently pulls you to catch up with the others. The pub is at the end of the street on the corner. It looks like it’s the oldest building in the town: massive curved windows, the door decorated with a mosaic of stained glass.

Johnny goes in first. The heat hits you straight away. The dim orange lights, dark walls and furniture make the whole place feel cozy. It reminds you of Johnny’s house, old, warm and inviting. The whole place smells of food, gravy, beef, other things you can smell but can’t name. It makes your stomach rumble.

“John!” a man calls coming over to you all. You watch as John hugs him. They slap each other on the back, then he looks round the group. Johnny introduces him as Archie, the landlord. The place is pretty busy. There are people chatting and laughing, and soft music is playing in the background. You smile looking up at Kyle who squeezes your hand.

“Didn’t think you were back till new years?” he asks, slapping Johnny on the shoulder.

“Got a little break, thought I should come home for once.”

“Good lad,” Archie says and leads you all over to a table in the far corner of the place. You scoot into the circle booth sitting between John and Kyle. Archie tries to pass menus round but Johnny stops him.

“Five steak and kidney pies with all the trimmings and extra gravy,” Johnny says. “And whatever you have on the tap, surprise us.”

Archie seems happy about that, smiling as he writes it down on a pad before nodding and leaving.

“So you spoke with Piper?” Kyle asks, turning to you. You nod, you’re not sure what to say.

“Yeah, I was mad at her. We talked about it, and I'm not mad at her anymore,” you say.

“That's good. I think it’s nice that she’s back.” You smile at him. You know deep down they’re just happy they can get a cure now. You look back at the table bringing your arms closer to you. You don’t want to spoil the night. Johnny at least seems pretty excited to be out here.

Someone brings a tray of drinks and places them round the table. John puts his hand on your thigh, and you smile, looking up at him. You want to lean up against him but you reach out for your drink instead.

“Cheers!” Johnny says, holding his glass up. Simon and Kyle tap their glasses against his before taking a drink. You look at them, confused. John clicks his glass with yours.

“Cheers,” he says before taking a drink. You follow him, taking a big gulp. It tastes good and you don’t mind the alcohol relaxing you. You listen to them talk. Johnny always seems so enthusiastic, talking about everything. He also seems to know almost everyone, with people coming up to the table to ask him why he’s back so early.

The place is warm and after a few sips of your drink you feel your senses dull out as you relax further into the soft booth. John’s hand stays on your thigh rubbing it or squeezing it under the table as he talks with the others. When you’re halfway through your drinks the food arrives. You sit up and your mouth waters when a plate is placed down in front of you.

There is a mini pie and the side of the plate is topped with mash and veggies smothered in a thick gravy. Your stomach rumbles as you enthusiastically dig into your plate.

“Good?” Johnny asks when you look up at him. You nod enthusiastically, your mouth still full with food. He chuckles going back to his plate. You manage to eat everything on your plate. Simon winds Johnny up, something about English vs Scottish cuisine which makes Kyle and John chuckle every now and then.

Your belly is full and the alcohol has made you feel relaxed. When you’re done you do end up leaning up against John who puts his arm around your shoulders. You’re watching the person behind the bar talking with people and pulling drinks for people. You’re not paying attention to what’s going on as John’s other hand strokes your thigh.

It’s been a good day. You’re happy Piper is back. You’re happy that they’re going to get a cure. Things feel better than they have been in a long while, in weeks. Your time in Washington feels like it was years ago, not weeks. It feels like a different world with different problems.

“Henry!” Johnny says getting up. You turn your head to the other side of the booth. It’s the same guy who you saw a few days ago, the one who greeted Johnny in the carpark.

“I’ve been looking fer ya,” he says. He's drunk but whatever it is he seems pretty insistent on talking to Johnny about it. You sit up, the hairs rising on the back of your neck.

“Some fuckin’ brass were looking, askin’ bout yous,” he slurs. You feel John tighten his grip on your thigh. “Yankies fuckin’ sticking their noses in.”

“They ain’t yankies. English, proper posh,” the bartender says as he clears the table of the empty glasses.

“What did they want?” Johnny asks the bartender.

“Wanted to know where ya place was,” he replies. Johnny turns to look at John. You can feel tension rise around the table.

“You didn’t tell them, did you?”

“Didn’t know you were in town. Thought they were renting the place and got lost.” The bartender shrugs walking away.

“Shit,” you hear Simon say under his breath. John’s hand leaves your thigh.

“I told ‘em to fuckin’ sling their hook,” Henry says, waving his hands in the air.

“‘Course ya did,” Johnny says, slapping Henry’s shoulder. He looks over at John who is sitting up. His eyes flick to Simon then back to Johnny. He shuffles his way out the booth, his hand leaving your thigh. You look over at Kyle who smiles at you.

“Go back to the car, we’ll pay and meet you out there,” Simon says, handing keys to Kyle. You’re already scooting out of the booth as soon as he finishes saying it. Kyle’s hand rests on the small of your back as he leads you through the cozy pub that seems to have got busier since you’ve been here.

When you make it outside the snow is heavier. You pull your coat around you tighter. Kyle keeps pressing you down the street to the car park. You can tell something’s wrong with the way they moved, the tension in the air.

“What’s happening?” you ask eventually.

“Nothing. It’s late, we should be getting home. John’ll pay the bill then we’ll be back home before you know it.”

You nod but you don’t believe him. Your mind turns to Piper. She's alone at the house. If people went there looking for you, they’ll find her. They could hurt her.

You feel like Kyle can smell your worry in the air as you make it to the car. He opens the door so you can get in the back. You start pulling the skin around your nails trying to keep calm. There’s no reason to be worried. Like Kyle said: it’s late, it’s dark. You watch as the snow falls on the ground melting away before it can set.

Kyle’s hand lands on yours. You look up at him and stop picking your skin. He smiles at you, and you smile back but you can feel your heart pick up, thumping in your chest. You just want to get home and see Piper. You have a gut feeling something is wrong.

You’re only waiting a few more minutes before Johnny, Simon and John pile into the car. There’s a heavy silence. No one says anything, they just share glances between each other. Simon drove the way here but now John is in the driver seat pulling out of the car park before Johnny has even got his seat belt on next to you.

The ride goes in silence. The small county roads have no lights, and all you can see is the snow hitting the window as John speeds as quickly as he dares back to the house. John stops the car further away from the house than normal.

The house is dark, no lights on inside or out. You grip Johnny's arm. John turns the car lights off. Now it’s pitch black. Goosebumps rise on the back of your neck.

“It’s quiet,” Kyle says.

“Maybe she’s asleep,” you say, trying to hide the fear building inside you. John’s eyes are still scanning the building.

“Ghost, Soap. Go round the back, through the kitchen--” John doesn’t get to finish his sentence before the front door opens and the outdoor lights come on.

“Captain Price, we’re not here to fight.”

“Not American,” Simon says. You move so you can get a better look. It’s not just one person, there are multiple people walking out. They’re all wearing suits, some with guns in their hands or bullet proof vests on.

“Where’s Piper?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Stay here,” John says. You nod leaning back to sit in the seat. Everyone else gets out, Johnny, Kyle and Simon have weapons in their hands now. You look around the car confused—where the hell do they get this stuff from?

The strangers take a few tentative steps towards John. John stops and they do too.

“Major Williams, MI6.” He holds something up. He’s young, skinny with groomed thick black hair. “Your associate Kate Laswell, she said you were busy in Urzikstan. I told her ‘Urzikstan for Christmas must be rough.’” He chuckles before clearing his throat.

“What do you want?” John asks. Williams takes another step forward, but his entourage stays behind. John holds his ground. You can only see Simon and Johnny who have weapons trained on him.

“You’ve got yourself wrapped up in a bit of a mess from what I heard. Something about an omega project? Ring any bells?”

John doesn’t say anything.

“You’re hiding one of the lead scientists out here. I thought Dr. Montgomery was dead. Don’t tell me you have Professor Hale hidden here somewhere too,” he chuckles again. He seems nervous. Your stomach sinks. Where is she?

“God, don't look so worried. She’s fine, just took a hit to the head. Thought we were a threat I guess. Look, I'm not here to take her away from you or the omega you’ve got hiding somewhere. I’m here on official business from Her Majesty’s secret service. You know the drill. We’ve had our eyes on Professor Hale’s little project for a while now. So you must understand we were delighted to find out you had two of the most important pieces hidden up here.” The man kicks the snow at his feet.

“We want the omega project. With Professor Hale gone there is no one in the US to continue the project. MI6 is willing to fund and supervise the research of the formula.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It’s never going to end.

There’s always going to be someone to take up Hale's position. There is always going to be someone after you. If it’s not the Americans, it's now the British. Who knows, next week the Russians could be after you. You just want to be free, but maybe you’ll never be free. You can’t let that eat you up now. You want to find Piper.

“We don’t work for you,” John says, pulling you out of your head.

“Technically you do. Put the weapons down, let's talk,” he says holding his hands up. “We can help you too, get General Shepherd off your case, bring in only people you trust. You run this show now. We’re just here to help.”

“Sounds like you want first dibs on the tech?” Johnny says.

“Naturally,” he says nodding.

John turns to look towards the car and everyone lowers their weapons. You open the door getting out the car. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you want to know what happened to Piper. They said she hit her head, was she injured?

Johnny and Kyle turn to look at you. You feel everyone's eyes on you. You walk over to Kyle grabbing his arm. You look down at the weapon in his hands. It sends a shiver up your spine. You look up at him and he smiles.

“Where’s Piper,” you ask, trying to be quiet but you know they can hear you.

“Dr. Montgomery?” John asks. Williams steps to the side gesturing to the house.

“Inside with an icepack on her head,” he says. John looks back at you quickly. You’re still holding onto Kyle’s arm.

John sighs and walks up to the man. Everyone else holds their ground. You can’t hear them talking. His voice is low and hushed. You try to lean forward to listen but you can’t hear anything. After a few seconds John turns around and walks over to you.

“Soap, Gaz take her in. Get Dr. Montgomery and keep them out the way,” John says. He doesn’t even acknowledge you. His fingers point at people, talking in a hushed voice. You watch him until Johnny and Kyle lead you back to the house. You look down the field past the tree line and see a helicopter parked a little down the hill.

“Great. That field’s fuckin’ runied now,” Johnny whispers under his breath, his eyes digging into the other people who came with Williams. They move out the way letting you pass. You’re still gripping onto Kyle like a vice as he leads up into the living room. You see Piper sat on the sofa holding a towel to her head. She stands up as soon as you come into the room.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything. One of them has a mean swing,” she says, pulling the towel away. Johnny goes up to inspect it. You’re still digging your nails into Kyle as you look over at your nest. They haven't touched it. You let out a breath, breaking away to go to her.

“It’ll heal quickly,” she says sitting back down as you sit next to her wrapping your arms around her arm. She puts the towel down, her hand resting on yours.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her hand squeezing you.

“Not sure yet. Seems like the UK has taken an interest in continuing Hale’s work,” Kyle says. You look back over at your nest. It’s the only place you want to be right now. You want to curl up in it and forget what's happening. It’s like a bubble where nothing can hurt you. You’re not listening to Piper and Kyle talk. You focus on the fire cracking. It’s going to need another log or it will die out.

“—I don’t think we’ll be staying here much longer,” you hear Johnny say. Your head snaps up to him.

“No,” you say. Everyone turns to look at you.

“We’ll come back. Promise,” Johnny says. It doesn’t feel right. You look back over at your nest, unlooping your arm from Piper’s. You get up going over to it, bending down and running your fingers over the blue blanket that came with you all the way from Canada.

“You okay?” you hear Johnny ask. You nod your head. You ignore what’s going on around you, pulling your shoes off before crawling under the blanket. You press your feet up against the stone wall of the fireplace letting the warmth rise up your body.

You’re facing away from the living room. You don’t want to leave. You like it here. John and Johnny said you’d come back but for some reason you don't believe them. You pull the blanket further around you and close your eyes.

…

John walks into the living room almost 2 hours later. Johnny’s the only one left. Kyle and Piper went to bed about half an hour ago. There was no way Johnny was going to leave you alone until John and Simon were done with their meeting.

John hears the front door close behind him, a cold draft wafting in. He looks over at you. You’re curled up sleeping in your nest facing out into the room. John goes over to sit on the sofa next to Johnny.

“Go get some rest. I’ll stay with her,” John says.

“Piper said to leave her be. I don’t think she’s too happy we might be moving soon,” Johnny says looking over at you. “She won’t be comfy if she sleeps in her nest all night.”

“No, but it’s where she feels safe,” John sighs. Johnny gets up heading for the door.

“When do you think we’ll be leaving?” he asks.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” John says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Johnny takes the hint, nodding and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He spent the last 2 hours navigating the finer details of this plan.

He already has a stack of paperwork to go through, NDA’s to sign, people to contact. He’d never worked with the secret service before, this would be new to him. The pay was good though and he was looking forward to getting Shepherd off his back. With the access MI6 could give them they could keep an even closer eye on Hale and Shadow Company. All he needs to do now is convince them to let Kate help.

They made a lot of promises he doesn’t think will ever happen but at least they’ll be safe. They can stay in the UK working out of a MI6 facility. John looks back over at you, your hand gripping one of the many pillows you’ve placed in your nest. It does look comfy.

He gets up going over to you. He sits down next to you leaning against the wall. His fingers brush hair behind your ear and he sighs. They’re going to have to move again but this time they’ll do it right. No rushing around, no more strangers they don’t trust. If everything goes according to plan it’s going to be their way.

“We’re going to keep you safe. I promise,” he says brushing your face. “It’s not going to be like last time. No more surprises.” He reaches down, picking up your hand and rubbing the back with his thumb. A few seconds later John hears the familiar noise of helicopter blades start up.

The noise gets louder as the helo lifts off the ground causing you to stir, gripping John's hand as you blink up at him sleepy.

“Did they leave?” you ask. He nods, smiling at you.

“Want to come to bed?” he asks. You shake your head. You want to stay in this perfect bubble. He tips his head slightly, his fingers brushing your face.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You smile up at him. Maybe he’s right. It might be different this time. You might even be able to stay here but you don’t count on it. He bends over kissing you on the top of your head and pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says getting up. You smile watching as he leaves the room, turning the standing light off as he does. The only light that comes in is the warm light from the fire. You yawn, closing your eyes and drifting back off to sleep.

Next

Beta reader and editor - rememberwren

Dividers by gild-ui & plum98

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[lost-in-fandoms]

Maxiel, turned into an animal! I just feel it would be so cute

From here. So I was like aren't the other animals I turned Max into not enough? Is it Daniel's turn now??? so i went to google and searched wheel spin animals and i got a vole. I didn't know what a vole was but then i translated it and I was like omg i love those little guys. So yeah, vole!daniel i guess!

"Daniel, Sassy will of course not eat you! She is a smart girl, she knows it's you."

Max doesn't know how Daniel manages to look annoyed where his face is currently furry and sporting whiskers, but he's very impressed by it.

That doesn't stop him from opening the door to his apartment anyway, letting Daniel cling to the collar of his jacket with his tiny paws as he squeaks in his ears something that would probably make his mom blush if she was also turned into a tiny little mouse.

"Yes, yes, I am being very mean, taking you home while we wait for someone to break the spell, letting you scratch my neck, keeping you safe," he says, rolling his eyes as he toes off his shoes, before bending down to greet Jimmy. "Hello, you."

Daniel squeaks louder, burrowing further into Max's jacket, tiny wet nose pressing against his skin.

Max ignores him for a moment, but then he realises he can actually feel Daniel's little body shake, so he stands up again, walking towards the bedroom and shutting the door, leaving a very disgruntled pair of cats outside.

"Come on, come here," he murmurs, gently grabbing Daniel and putting him down in his lap.

In Daniel's defense, he had been a full grown human just a few hours before, so Max could understand how everything looked big and scary now. But at the same time...

"Daniel, would I let you get hurt?" he asks seriously, keeping his hands cupped around him, shielding him from the world.

For a long moment Daniel doesn't react, but then he shakes his little head, whiskers tickling Max's fingers.

"I promise I won't let the kittens come close to you, and that you'll be safe here. Okay?"

It's weird to miss Daniel's voice maybe, when they've been without each other for much longer than a few hours, but having Daniel here without actually having him is making strange things happen in Max's heart.

Still, there's something very Daniel in the way he nods, little front paws fidgeting, nipping at Max's thumb.

"Come on, then," Max says, shrugging off his jacket and t-shirt to put on a hoodie. He wears it in reverse, so that the hood is hanging in front of him, and places Daniel inside it.

"You can be like the chef guy, but not in my hair," he tells him, and Daniel's squeak is almost a laugh.

[fluentmoviequoter]

All That Matters

Requested by anonymous: "Alright, could you write Luca with a younger reader (25-28 yes old). She's super sweet and bubbly, basically just a sunny disposition. People think she's too young for him/he's too old for her, like especially her family. She grew up really seeking their approval, like she has a problem trying to make other people happy even if it leaves her exhausted, sad, or uncomfortable. but she won't compromise her happiness this time for anyone because she really loves Luca. Sorry if that's too much. I really love your writing" AND a request that I lost about Luca meeting his shy/innocent girlfriend on the beach and keeping their relationship private

Pairing: Dominique Luca x younger!fem!reader

Summary: You're sweet, bubbly, and perfect for Luca. When people begin judging your relationship because of the age gap, you decide that you, Luca, and the love between you are all that matters.

Warnings: age gap, fluff, brief angst, parental judgement

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: Thanks for the kind words, anon! And sorry to the other anon whose ask I lost; I hope I remembered the gist of it. :)

“What’d you think of that one, sweetheart?”

Luca looks up from his surfboard when he hears the question. It sounds wrong like the man in the wetsuit is calling someone sweetheart when he shouldn’t be. The word is dripping in condescension, and Luca is prepared to stand up for the woman being addressed with the sarcastic and likely uninvited pet name.

“It was really good!” you reply, smiling brightly.

Immediately, Luca regrets turning his attention away from his board. He’s quickly convinced he can never get it back from you. You playfully shove the surfer, who grips his arm like he’s in incredible pain. At least she’s okay, Luca thinks as he tries to focus on prepping his board for his morning surf.

“Peters was looking at you again,” the man with you complains.

“Why?” you inquire, using your heel to trace a shape in the sand.

With a sigh, he replies, “Don’t worry about it. I’m going back in. Pay attention long enough to give me some honest feedback?”

“You’re always good,” you assure him. “But I’ll try.”

Luca stands and lifts his board while your friend runs into the surf again.

“Good morning,” you greet as he nears you.

“Morning,” Luca replies with a smile. “How’s the surf look today?”

Nodding, you look at the water and say, “Good. Offshore breeze should help, water’s glassier than it was yesterday, and the wave shapes have been nice.”

“You know your stuff.”

You look down at the sand, and Luca decides then he’d love to get to know you.

“I’m Luca,” he says, dropping the end of his board to shake your hand.

“Luca!” your friend calls as he returns from a wave you didn’t witness. “I thought I recognized that board.”

“And I should have recognized the hair,” Luca replies, fist-bumping him.

“How do you two know each other?” you inquire.

They both look pointedly at their boards, and you roll your eyes.

“Better question is, how do you two know each other?” Luca questions.

“He’s my neighbor,” you explain. “He’s trying to ‘get me out of my shell.’ His words.”

“It’s working!” he defends. “You wouldn’t have talked to a stranger on the beach six months ago.”

You lower your voice to confide in Luca, “That’s true.”

“Excuse me,” your neighbor asks, marching toward a surfer you recognize: Peters.

“He doesn’t like Peters looking at you?” Luca deduces.

“I don’t know why,” you say with a shrug. “Good luck surfing. Or have fun, whatever the right phrase is for non-competitive wave riding.”

“Either works. And between you and me, it’s because you deserve better than Peters.”

You look down again, but you’re smiling, so Luca decides to use this opportunity like a perfect wave and ride it for as long as possible.

“Would you like to get dinner with me?” he proposes.

Looking up, you answer, “I’d love to.”

That evening, Luca glances at his watch while Street and Tan argue about which restaurant makes better cheesecake. He needs to leave now, or he’ll be late to your first date, and while you seem incredibly sweet and would probably understand, that isn’t how he wants to start a relationship with you.

“Guys, I’m gonna head out!” he calls, pointing over his shoulder.

“What? Why?” Street inquires. “We’re going to your favorite place!”

“You don’t know what my favorite place is, Streeter. And the waves are going to be perfect in the morning, so I need some rest. Have fun!”

After he leaves his team, he meets you at an oceanside restaurant and takes your hand as you’re led to a table on the deck. The more you talk and open up, Luca realizes that you’re not only sweet, you’re downright bubbly, and possess a sunny disposition about everything in the world. Yes, you’re innocent and can be shy, but you open up to Luca. He knows he was right this morning, and he needs to know everything about you.

Four Months Later

“Pretty dress,” your mother compliments at family dinner.

“Thank you! Luca got it for me,” you reply, holding the skirt as you look down at the dainty details lining the top.

“You’re still with him?” your father inquires. “Sweetheart, I’m glad you’re happy but you are too young for him.”

Your mom lays her hand on his arm as she amends, “He’s quite a bit older than you.”

You swallow harshly, fighting the urge to do something that will regain their approval. You’ve been trying to make them happy your entire life, and when they continuously bring up the age difference between you and Luca, it makes you sad.

“Why don’t you go out with that neighbor of yours?” your mother suggests. “The surfer with the pretty hair?”

Because then you’d complain there’s too much sand in my house. Rather than voicing that opinion, you remind her, “He has a fiancé. And she’s one of my best friends.”

“Maybe I can set you up with a son of one of my buddies,” your father says.

You nod, picking at the appetizer on your plate with no trace of your usual smile. Being aware that you’re a people pleaser doesn’t make dealing with the emotions of disappointing someone any easier.

“I’m happy,” you say softly.

“For now,” your father grumbles.

You decide to change the topic, and as the night goes on, the heaviness in your stomach seems to weigh you down. When you return home, you’re inexplicably exhausted, sad with yourself and your parents, and uncomfortable. You never feel like this with Luca because he accepts you for who you are and doesn’t take advantage of your tendencies to do all you can and more for others. It’s one of the many reasons you love him.

As you lie awake in bed, you make a decision. Your happiness is the only thing that matters. And starting now, you will not compromise your happiness or relationship for anyone. You’ll do it for yourself and for Luca.

“How’d your dinner go?” Luca inquires, brushing a stray hair from your face.

You shrug, and Luca brushes his lips against your temple.

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” you admit. “But I don’t want to put us at risk to do that.”

“Do you care about the age gap?”

“Of course not!”

“Then that’s what’s important. Everything is up to you. I know it’s not easy to hear and even harder to put it into practice but doing what makes you happy is the only way you’ll get what you deserve. You’re sacrificing yourself for others.”

“I just don’t understand why they can’t accept that you make me happy. They don’t care that I love you.”

Luca’s brows raise as he smiles. You realize what you admitted but can’t ask if he’s okay with you saying it before Luca pulls you into a hug that makes all your worries and discomfort disappear.

Luca’s phone buzzes during a sparring match. When he remembers that you are one of the few people who can reach him while he’s at the station, he calls timeout. Ignoring Street’s protests, he lifts his phone and reads the message.

“I gotta go,” he tells his team. “Family thing.”

“You’ve been having a lot of family things,” Deacon says.

“Just tell us what’s going on, man,” Hondo invites. “You know we’re here for you. Don’t have to keep sneakin’ off if you let us help.”

“I…” Luca hesitates, then says, “I don’t know if you can help me get my future in-laws to like me.”

Deacon and Hondo’s jaws drop, and Street snatches Luca’s truck keys out of his hand.

“We’re meeting her right now,” he declares. “Wasn’t a question either, and I can beat you if you try to take these keys back.”

“She’s not feeling great right now,” Luca argues. “Next time.”

Tan pulls Luca’s phone from his hand and taps the message. Luca tries to get his phone back, but Hondo reaches it first. Lifting it to his ear, he raises his hand toward Luca and says, “It’s ringing.”

Luca stops. He’s almost sure you will hang up when you realize it isn’t him calling, but Hondo has a way of disarming people, and you already see the best in everyone you meet.

“Hi,” Hondo greets. “My name is Daniel Harrelson; I work with Luca.” He smiles and holds Luca’s gaze as he says, “Yes, I am Hondo. And Luca is fine. My team and I just wanted to ask if we can finally meet you. Luca hasn’t said a word about you.”

Hondo ends the call a moment later and returns Luca’s phone without a word.

“She said she’ll have coffee and desserts ready when we get there.”

“Watch him,” Deacon warns Luca.

“Alright,” Luca says. He chuckles and shakes his head before inviting his team to follow him to your house. He doesn’t mention that you’re young, sunny, or nearly perfect, but he’s sure they’ll realize quickly. If they disapprove of the relationship, Luca may have to make the hardest decision of his life.

Hondo, Deacon, Street, and Tan watch as you greet Luca at the door. They realize imediately that Luca is in love. Not like the love he’s claimed to be in before, but really, truly, madly in love. What makes Deacon smile is that you are, too. Three of the four men on your walkway don’t notice that you’re younger than Luca, at least not right away. The fourth notices, but only to make well-meaning jokes and take jabs at Luca while they bicker.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say after introductions. “Luca’s told me a lot about you.”

Luca cuts in before Hondo can remind you that they haven’t heard about the relationship.

“We kept the relationship private,” he explains.

“He means he decided to keep me from any possible judgement,” you explain. “I’m getting enough grief from my parents about the age gap without inviting more people to comment on it.”

“I mean I wasn’t going to say anything,” Street begins.

“Then don’t,” Deacon interjects. “He’s kidding.”

Tilting your head, you look at Street, then say, “You’re funny.”

“If you ever get tired of Luca or he throws his back out surfing or something, I’m right here.”

“And you said I’d have to worry about Hondo,” Luca murmurs to Deacon.

“What is that wonderful smell?” Hondo inquires.

“Maybe it’s both of them,” Deacon replies.

“I made some scones, chocolate chip muffins, and brownie bites this morning,” you remember excitedly. “There’s also fresh-brewed coffee. Follow me.”

Luca watches as his team gets to know you. They support the relationship - which they ensure they voice to Luca upon returning to the station - and clearly appreciate your sweet and bright personality. It’s a welcome light in their sometimes dim day-to-day lives.

“So, what are you doing about the parents?” Street inquires as he reaches for another brownie. “If you decide to cut them loose, Deacon and Annie would probably adopt you.”

You look to Deacon, smiling as you expect a deadpanned response that will make you laugh.

“Annie’s going to love you,” he begins. “So, I actually don’t have a response to that because it probably would happen.”

“I think you should just introduce Luca to your parents,” Hondo says, breaking a muffin into smaller pieces. “If we can see how happy the two of you are together, anyone can.”

You look to Luca and decide to do just that. It won’t be an overnight change, but if they see that you love him, they’ll grow to accept him. You and Luca are the only people that matter in your relationship, and you’re happy with him and him alone.

“When’s your birthday?” Tan asks. “We’ll add it to the calendar.”

“What calendar?” you ask.

“The family calendar,” Luca tells you. “I wasn’t kidding when I said if they like you you’re stuck with them.”

Smiling, you ask, “What else is on the calendar?”

“Not your parents’ birthdays!” Street exclaims from the living room, looking at your pictures.

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 12

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Next chapter switches to Explicit)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,652 of 32,210

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AO3 Link

"What happened?" he asks, pulling me to my feet. "What's wrong?"

My legs shake and I try to catch my breath, feeling my nails weakly trying to grip the tweed of his jacket. "It's the conductor," I say. "Not the same guy."

The Wizard exhales a laugh at this. "Yes," he says. "We've been changing out conductors at every stop. Did you think it was the same man shoveling coal for the past three days?"

"N-No... but-"

"Look," he says, "why don't you get some rest? You’re tired from- What were you doing? Running?” He gives me a funny look as he tries to rearrange my wind-swept hair. “We've got a ways until we get to Rouncible."

The words he's saying seem right, but there's just something I can't shake about the conductor. I don't say anything as he takes my hand. I glance back at the Frottica station passing by as he helps me up the steps and back into the living compartment.

"I know that this week has been stressful and all, but I really need you to keep it together." He wraps the woolen blanket from the first night around me and guides me to sit in one of the chairs. "The cold can do funny things to the brain. You're... uh... It's going to be alright, okay?"

I nod my head once, staring out the window as we pick up a good and decent speed. Maybe now was the time to get religious. Maybe if I prayed hard enough then this whole war would be over and I would be free to go. A divine intervention.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I snapped at you," he says.

"S'okay," I say, staring out the window. A light snow has started to fall, adding to the already heaping piles of the stuff that corridor the rail.

"We still haven't heard from Morrible, and she might be able to convince the Lord-Mayor to talk some sense into Thropp. That letter, it was only the first from days ago."

"Can you-" I stop, hesitating to ask. "Can we just sit together?"

To that, he doesn't say anything. The matching chair is dragged back over from the bedside. He sits down in it, holding my hand as I watch the snow fall, every flake a silent prayer that I would be able to see Fileah alive again.

______________________________________________

The light snow has turned to pellets of ice, giving the illusion that the roof of the train is being pelted with handfuls of rice. It’s been two, maybe three hours, and the sun has begun to paint the horizon in bruising shades of purple and indigo. The Wizard's hand is still in mine, keeping true to my request, even if I'm not really present. My gaze has been fixed on the pines that start as dark green blots of ink when they appear along the brass edge of the window, only to grow great and monstrous in size. It's the only place I can look. There was no way back, and the sooner I accepted my fate, the sooner I could plan my next move. Maybe there would be someone at the war council who pitied me enough to smuggle me back.

I've come to accept that my brain concocted the fear of the conductor as a way to stop me from leaving him. As we sit in silence, free from any pressure of time, I can see how ridiculous the idea is. The Wizard doesn't need someone to look after him. He is the Wizard of Oz, a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself, capable of governing our great land even. I don't need him, and he doesn't need me. The next time I get the chance to get away, I won't hesitate.

I watch as the trees start to curve, cutting off the white path ahead. My free hand grips the wooden chair arm as I anticipate the slowdown that will lurch me. There wasn't always a warning – when I had spent that day out in the hallway I had taken to always having a free hand on the railing, especially with my nose in my book – but when there was, it was nice to know so I could stabilize myself. I wait, watching as the trees draw closer, but the slowdown doesn't come.

"Hey," I say, shaking the Wizard's hand. He had fallen asleep with the gentle rocking of the train but still managed to keep his hand in mine. "Hey!" I shake his shoulder.

He sputters to life, looking around. "Hmm? What? What’s going on?"

I say, "Something's wrong."

"Not the conductor business again. I told you-"

"No," I cut him off, "it's not that. The train. It's going too fast."

"Well the train is going to go fast," he replies. "That's what trains do."

I push up from my seat, pointing to the window. "No... No, look at the curve." The tree cutoff is even closer now.

The Wizard blinks sleepily as he cranes himself to get a better look. "I don't-"

A panic seizes me and I can feel my heart beat through every joint in my body as I pull him from the chair. "We need to- We need to-"

He must finally see the curve coming closer and closer, feel the way the train is not halting, because his muscles become taut under my grip. "It's not slowing," he mumbles.

I pull him one last time and this time, he comes away from the chair without effort. Our bodies tangle as we head for the exit, limbs both reaching for the door. He hugs me to his side, pressing my limbs against him as he throws open the door to the hallway.

"Something was wrong," he says. "You were right... God, you were right."

I slap my hands against his chest as he's carrying me down to the hallway. "Stop! We can't just go out there with no coats."

"Doll," he interrupts, "now is not the time to be worrying about co-"

I push out of his grasp, flying back into the living compartment to grab our coats. The thick wools in hand, he yanks me back out into the hallway and drags me down to the entrance steps. He throws open the door to the outside and the howling wind becomes deafening. The ice pellets that had sounded so gentle on the roof of the car are now flying past in a blinding wall of glass, the glitter of the snow along the tracks a deadly glimmer of shards that does not slow.

"We're-" the Wizard swallows, "We're going to have to jump."

I am doing nothing more than standing, but my heart can’t tell. "On the count of three," I squeak.

"One, two." I can't finish it.

"Three," he says.

We jump from the train in a dive and my stomach drops for the brief moment that we're flying from the car. The icy ground knocks the wind from me as we roll in the snow, tumbling to a stop. Everything hurts, and I can hear the Wizard groaning in pain. I try my best to push myself up, but yelp as my right wrist recoils from the blinding agony. Quickly, I'm cradling the injury to my chest.

"We have to-" I cough, surely drowned out by the thundering of the wheels. I try again, shouting as loud as my breathless lungs will allow me, "We have to get out of here!"

The train is still careening forward. I don’t want to be around when the wrought iron time bomb derailed and exploded.

"No-" the Wizard says, clutching his woolen coat to his chest. "Just five minutes, alright?"

I test my other arm, and satisfied with no pain, I push myself up. He's wallowing in the snow, swooped hair laden with wetness and fresh flake, eyes screwed shut in denial. I grab hold of him with my good arm, trying to ignore how the snow was already soaking into my clothes.

"Get up," I grit. "Come on, you can't just give up and die now. Get up."

"No-" the Wizard groans. "No this isn't such a bad way to go." The sun is now fully below the horizon and I know if we don't put as much distance between us and the train as possible, if it doesn't kill us, the lack of shelter will, and that will be impossible to find in the darkness.

I drop his arm and slap him across the face. That causes him to open his eyes. "It's not just you out here, asshole," I croak. My vocal cords are fried from the attempted screaming. "I'm not going to let you fucking die. Now, come on." I fall to the side of him, tugging his arm to at least get him onto his side.

The train is at the curve now, and my eyes cannot be torn away from the horror that unfolds. The terrible iron beast is jerked easily off of the track, like it were a toy in the hands of a child, sliding on its side as it twists and tumbles and turns. BANG! The sound is deafening, cracking through my bones and making me slam my sore wrist against my ear as a hundred yards away the locomotive explodes in a terrible bubbling cloud of fire infected with black vines of smoke. Parts of the engine sail sky-high as they are shot from the wreck like fireworks. My eyes trace the trajectory of one particularly misshapen piece.

"Move!" I scream, scrambling to my feet to drag the Wizard backward. I can’t drag him more than a few feet, but it's enough for the scrap of metal to miss him by inches. His chest rises and falls as he claws at my arm, scrambling to his feet away from the burning metal.

We stand there for only a moment, watching as the great roaring fire consumes what remains of the train we had occupied together for the last three days. I don't say anything, simply heading off to where I think south-east is. There was a cabin back that way I had spotted while I stared out the window not five minutes earlier, trying to forget that I had gone back for a man who didn't need saving.

___________________________________________________

The sun has fully set by now, a high and white moon rising in its place, lending a ghostly jade glow to all of the trees. We stop every few minutes as our boots fall through the powdery mix shielded by a thin crust of ice, the cold making even the easiest task of walking utterly exhausting.

I stay beside him, not trusting him to not give up and collapse back into the snow again. If I could, I would shoulder him, but both of our arms are gripped so tight to our bodies, trying to keep what little heat remains in us as the cold sucks the warmth from our faces and causes our noses to run.

It's when I'm ready to give up and let the icy mountain air steal the last of my warmth that I spy the house. It would be generous to call it a house, the moonbeams picking out the old and weathered boards that make up the shack. It can't be more than one room. I couldn't care less, letting myself bolt for it. Anything to get some kind of warmth back into me.

The Wizard calls out to me, but I ignore him. I'm sure he's worried that I'll trip and fall. If I do, I'll just drag myself to the house with the one good hand I have left. The front door is twenty feet away when I hear the growl that turns into a half-human yell. I turn to see the wild cat, his fur a shaggy sand that blended in well enough with the snow that you might miss the black tufts on his ears or the marigold eyes that are now trained on me. He must have been watching us from the thicket of trees to the left.

"Bleeding," he growls. "So far away and bleeding." An Animal, I think.

"Please," I breathe, trying to catch my breath in the thin air. "You don't want to eat me." I slowly walk backward, hoping that I'll get to the cabin and I can then shut the door on him. My eyes, flick to the Wizard and he's too far away. There's no way he'll make it to the cabin before the wild cat gets me.

"Not much to eat up here," he growls. "You, your friend..." He's struggling to form the words and I wonder how long he's been away from humans and society. "Food... month..."

"I can get you food," I say, backing up further. The lynx steps forward with each step I take back. The Wizard is closer, but not close enough. "You could feast like a king."

"Haven't eaten in days," he says. "Better to eat now..."

My legs hit the porch and I tumble, falling onto the rickety structure. The snow is so cold that it burns my hands as I crawl backward, belly up and ripe to be ripped open. I just need to get to the door. The Animal's shoulders are thrown up now, limbs bent and ready to pounce.

"Please," I whisper, knowing that it will do nothing. Maybe it is a prayer to Lurline that my death will be quick and painless under her watchful eye.

The animal yells and leaps but the blood-curdling scream is cut off by an explosion. The lynx tumbles to the side as if a supernatural entity had smacked it away. For a moment, I think Lurline has answered my prayers, and then I see the Wizard draw closer.

He is staggering in the snow, arm outstretched to the animal. The moonlight glints off something in his palm. It's shiny and silver and there is smoke rising from it. I'm not sure what to make of it as I watch the lynx attempt to rise from the snow bank it had been flung into. A second crack of thunder echoes through the valley and the lynx slumps. Blood melts the lifeless snow around him, staining it red with life.

Puffs of steam obscure the horror and I realize just how hard I had been breathing, the wool lapels of my coat rising and falling quickly like billows. I scramble to my feet, throwing myself against the side of the cabin. I want to scream, but I don't know why; the danger is gone. Tears are already wetting my cheeks as I realize how close I was to having my guts spilled into the snow.

The Wizard finally catches up to me, climbing the snow-covered steps to the porch. He's out of breath as he cups my face in his hands. "Are you alright? It didn't get you, did it?" he asks.

"Y-You." My teeth are clacking together, the cold thoroughly ravaging me. "You saved my life."

There are tears in his eyes as he brushes a thumb against my wet cheek. "Yes," his voice breaks. "Of course..." There is nothing else to say. No words can express the sentiment as he presses his lips to my forehead. A kiss, a promise of protection.

As he pulls away I can feel all of the layers of ice I had built up against him, the ideas I had told myself over and over to try and force them to be my reality, shatter and crack. He has nothing to say about saving my life because it has always been a given, even in the ballroom when he took my hand to run and took me on the train with him.

I stand there in the silence of the snow and moonlight and kiss him.

[maypiles]

VERY TOO SCARILY SPECIFIC MESSAGE WANTING TO COME THROUGH 🥀

❗Take what resonates and leave what does not. Please don't try to force the reading this is very too specific message❗

So, today was supposed to be a cute little "pick a pile" day, you know, something simple, but nope, Spirit decided otherwise. I woke up with this weirdly specific download that hit me like a truck, and now here we are. I swear, Spirit is out here writing soap operas, and I’m just the messenger. If this post finds you, it's for you—or someone you know. Maybe it’s a sign, a wake-up call, or that nudge you’ve been ignoring for way too long. Either way, buckle up because this one’s not just a message; it’s a plot twist. Let’s get into it.

All right, buckle up, because Spirit is coming for your life today, and I’m just the messenger. First off, let me tell you, I don’t even listen to Billie Eilish, okay? except for that one TikTok trending line from "NDA": "You hit me so hard, I saw stars, you couldn’t save me, but you can’t let me go." That’s literally the anthem of this message. I woke up with that playing in my head, which means Spirit decided this needed to be channeled urgently. Whoever stumbles upon this post, it’s not just a coincidence. Spirit does not play around, and this message will either hit you right in the feels or make you think of someone who’s in this exact situation.

Let’s talk about what’s going down:

This reading is so tied to Pile 3 from my last post that it might as well be a sequel. If you picked Pile 3, or even if you didn’t but felt drawn here—hello, welcome, Spirit has entered the chat.

What Spirit is screaming at you about:

There’s a divine feminine in the spotlight here—a true Empress, possibly a Taurus (big Earth energy, though she’s got fire placements, don’t @ me). This is a woman who’s spiritual AF, the kind who probably keeps lunar moth symbolism somewhere in her Pinterest boards. Spirit is showing me snow, transformation, and the sun breaking through—a metaphorical rebirth.

This Empress is in a marriage or committed relationship with a fire sign masculine, and Sagittarius is loud here. But let me just say it: this connection is dead. D-E-A-D. It’s like a decaying fruit you keep trying to salvage but deep down, you know it’s only attracting flies. Sis, you’re not satisfied, and you’ve been suspecting him of cheating—maybe you’ve even gone full-blown FBI mode looking for proof. And guess what? You might not find anything in his phone because this isn’t just about infidelity. This is divine orchestration. (Spirit says you're manifesting him to. ArE yUo??)

About him:

(I hear spirit calling him a bitch 🙂)

Your fire-sign masculine (showing up as the King of Wands reversed) isn’t cheating out of malice. It’s not about you. He’s being karmically redirected, facing his own lessons. Spirit says this isn’t your burden to carry anymore. Let him go, let him learn, because you are being called to step up into your Empress energy. This is your moment.

And, oh, honey, let’s talk about the real tea: there’s someone else in your energy—a true Emperor (big Virgo vibes, but there’s a hint of water there too). I’m not saying this is a "right now" situation. This feels like a "right person, wrong time" scenario. You’ve been lowkey denying your feelings, but Spirit is like, "Stop lying to yourself." Dreams? Pay attention to them. That spicy one you had? Yeah, it’s not random. That’s the new person energetically knocking on your door (or could be someone you already know).

The storm before the glow-up:

You’re being asked to walk away, even though it feels like a storm. The Tower is here, loud and proud, because this divorce (or separation) will feel like a loss—but it’s actually your victory. This is your transformation, your cocoon-breaking moment. Yes, it might take time—Spirit says several months to a year and a half—but the delay is working in your favor. Why? So you can fully heal, step into your power, and reunite with your true soulmate at the right time.

Details Spirit won’t let me skip:

Uranus energy: Sudden changes, rebellion, chaos. This might feel overwhelming, but it’s the catalyst you need. Also, Uranus could be strong aspected in your chart or it could be your dominant planet or in your seventh house even. OMG IS IT 7TH HOUSE AQUARIUS?

Age gap: You might be older than your new person (the Emperor), and school or mentorship could be significant.

Health issues: Some of you might be dealing with migraines, anxiety, or even a literal broken bone. Take care of yourself.

Ancestry: Someone here might have Syrian heritage, listening to Syrian songs, travelled to Syrian, or that’s significant in some way.

Spiritual practices: You’re already intuitive AF, but Spirit is asking you to trust that. Your High Priestess energy is peaking, babe.

The cards are screaming:

The Ace of Pentacles and Empress are your starting and ending points. Spirit is giving you the tools to build something solid, something aligned with your true self. But first, you have to let go of what’s not working.

Your fire sign masculine (again, King of Wands reversed) is showing up with the Nine of Swords, Tower, and Five of Cups—he’s bringing chaos, regret, and heartbreak. Meanwhile, your Virgo Emperor (King of Pentacles) is all about stability, love, and real partnership. This is a 10/10 upgrade, sis.

But here’s the thing: Spirit isn’t just handing you this glow-up. The Hanged Man, Hermit, and High Priestess are asking you to do the inner work. Shadow work. Letting go. Closing cycles. And don’t rush the process—this transformation is meant to take time.

The Judgment, World, and Fool cards are here to say: You’ve got this. Close the old chapter, embrace the new beginning, and trust that you’re being divinely guided.

Spirit’s final mic drop:

Your outcome? Ten of Cups, Sun, Ace of Cups, and Emperor energy. You’re stepping into your divine alignment, creating the life you’ve always dreamed of. This isn’t just a glow-up—it’s a full-on cosmic upgrade.

So, sis, stop running in circles. Let go of the fear. The snow is melting, the sun is rising, and your wings are ready to spread. Transformation is here.

P.S. Don’t you dare ignore your dreams. Spirit is spilling the tea while you sleep.

EDIT: THAT BITCH OF SPIRIT ISN'T DONE YET

All right, let me just start this edit by saying Spirit is relentless and will not let me breathe. I was ready to hit post on this whole saga, but nooo, here I am dragging my oracle deck into the chaos because Spirit said, "We’re not done yet. Pick it up."

And guess what? The oracle cards came in guns blazing, like, "Hey, you forgot to mention that the Divine Feminine is basically scripting her entire life right now." Oh, you wanted closure? Nah, here’s a manifested trilogy, complete with cheating, divorce, a second marriage, and that one soulmate who’s been lurking in the shadows of your dreams like a rom-com waiting to happen. You’re welcome.

Let me spell it out for the DF here because Spirit has no chill:

1. Make the effort: That great love you want? It’s on the way, but only if you stop stalling and take the steps you’ve been guided to take.

2. Divorce: It’s not just a breakup; it’s a rite of passage for your soul’s growth.

3. Very soon: Time to get clear. What do you want? (Hint: it’s not what you’re clinging to.)

4. Calling in your soulmate: Prayers, visualizations, affirmations? You’re doing it. That soulmate? They’re clocking in.

5. True love: Spoiler alert: It’s the real deal. But you’ve gotta clear the karmic clutter first.

And can we just talk about this plot twist for a second? The Divine Feminine is over here manifesting the entire package—the cheating, the heartbreak, the rebirth, the glow-up, and the reunion with her Emperor. She’s scripting this life like it’s her magnum opus. Even Spirit’s like, “She’s got the vision, so let’s give her the drama to match.” LET HER COOK.

But don’t get it twisted. This is not just chaos for chaos’s sake. Every step is part of the Divine Master Plan™. Karmic lessons? Check. Shadow work? Oh, absolutely. And that second marriage? Let’s just say it’s not just about love—it’s about stepping into your highest self and finally getting what you deserve.

So, DF, if this reading feels like it’s dragging you, just remember: Spirit’s not being mean. Spirit’s being specific. Now go journal, light some candles, and make peace with the fact that you’re the main character in this cosmic soap opera. Stay alive, and may your karmic lessons lead you straight to your Emperor.

URGH 😩 let me just get this off my chest because I feel personally attacked by Spirit right now. Like, what do you mean "too specific"? Since when is being specific a crime? At this rate, my blog is going to turn into a full-on "channeled therapy hotline" because Spirit just keeps exposing people—and apparently me too, for reasons I do not appreciate. Let me tell you, I woke up with Billie Eilish in my head (again, Spirit, WHY), channeling your entire life story, and now it’s giving "TikTok psychic who accidentally goes viral for saying someone’s cat is named Buttons." Like, do you see how specific this is getting? Lunar moths, snow, Syrian ancestry, migraines? It’s like, Spirit, please chill before I need to call my own hotline for emotional support. At this point, I might as well start a TikTok because these pick-a-pile readings are out here turning into full-blown docuseries. Who even needs to pick a pile anymore when Spirit is like, "No, we’re just going to read you for filth directly and leave no room for ambiguity. DELIVER THE MESSAGE AND SHUT UP." And don’t get me started on the energy of this whole post. I feel like some of y’all are reading this and thinking, "Wow, this sounds like a private consultation." Like, yeah, it does, doesn’t it? Because Spirit doesn’t know how to keep things light. But fine, if this is what we’re doing now, let me just embrace my destiny as the internet’s most oddly specific tarot reader. My TikTok bio would probably say something like: "Tarot? Sure. But also your migraine, that spicy dream, and why your cat is staring at the wall—let’s unpack it." Anyway, to whoever needed this reading: I hope it hit. Because Spirit made sure it would. Now go handle your business, close those cycles, and let me go journal about why I suddenly feel exposed by my own cards. Stay alive. 💋

[hooneeyydroops]

Don’t you worry about your curly hair <3

Fred G. Weasley x reader

My first post ever here on Tumblr! Sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, english is only my second language :’)

Paring: Bsf!Fred Weasley x natural curly/wavy haired!Reader

Notes: Just Fluff. Reader is in gryffindor but you can choose the year! Also, reader and Fred are best friends who have huge crushes on each other lol. Oh and reader is insecure about her hair but Fred makes her feel better.

Summary: Hermione helped you style your natural hair. It was the first time you showed off your natural hair in Hogwarts, especially to Fred.

Word count: 1.5k

Enjoy!

“My hair is so poofy again!” you complained, as you were walking to class with your friend Hermione.

It was the month of November so it was only natural that your hair was becoming this poofy; humidity levels were extremely high in winter at Hogwarts.

“I just don’t know what to do, I can’t straighten them everyday, I don’t want to burn it!” you say, pushing your thick, coarse hair behind your ears. The only good thing was that they kept you very warm during the colder weather (but it was hell during the summer).

“Maybe you should try to stop straightening them” Hermione replied. “I know curly hair is a lot of work but it’s so worth it. Plus you can’t always keep on tying them up like you do during summer”.

You knew her hair was curly just like yours, although she was too lazy to always keep them in place, sometimes leaving them air drying or diffusing without any kind of styling done. Yet it still suited her perfectly in one way or another.

“Maybe you’re right” you say, smiling at her “Why don’t you come with me to the dorm this afternoon? I could use some help from you to do my hair” you continued, as you girls had almost reached the classroom. “Sure thing!” she replied, smiling and excited about your proposal as you two entered the classroom for your charms lesson.

You and Hermione were now in your dorm’s bathroom as you were thoroughly and vigorously washing your hair. She was sitting on the toilet as you guys chatted and laughed together.

“Okay so now that I’m done with the clarifying shampoo I have to put this hair mask on my lenghts?” you asked her as you were kneeled down near the bathtub.

“Yes, just put a generous amount on it and leave it on for five minutes” she replied, looking at you as you put a generous amount of that divine-smelling hair mask she lent you on your hair. You then put them up with a claw clip standing up from that uncomfortable position that you had kept through the whole shampoo step.

“Ow, my back!” You said in pain.

Hermione laughed. “I bet the one that will absolutely adore the most your new look is definitely going to be Fred!” She said with a teasing tone as a faint blush crept on your cheeks.

“S-sure…I’m quite nervous to be honest; He’s never seen me with my natural hair, not even once. I only wear them back at home” you replied, worrying about what he’ll say. “Aw c’mon y/n, he’s definitely going to love it. He literally loves everything about you!” she says, trying to uplift your mood a bit.

You rinsed the mask off, as you girls went on with the styling. You brushed your hair then you made sure they were soaking wet as you put on your curl cream, gel and mousse, scrunching your hair with your hands and a towel.

“Looks amazing already” Hermione said in awe, watching your hair “I’ll help you diffuse them”.

Hermione was finally done diffusing your hair. “Now here, give me your hand” she says.

You do as she told and found yourself with some drops of hair oil on your hand.

“Massage it through your hands and slide them through your hair. You can also scrunch a bit”.

You do so.

Then you lifted your head up.

You couldn’t belive your eyes.

Your hair came out so good. Your locks were almost all frizz-free and they framed your face perfectly.

“No way, you look so good with your natural hair! They suit you way more if I have to say!” Hermione said excited as she was looking at you two through the mirror where you were staring at your reflection.

Yet you couldn’t help but think about what Fred’s reaction would be. Sure you looked great, but will he like your new look? What if he thought curly hair were hideous or messy?

Hermione noticed your worried expression. “He’ll love them, I’m sure” she says, a small smile forming on your lips.

“Thanks Hermione”.

“Now come one, put your robe back on, it’s almost dinner time!” she said, helping you out. You watched yourself through the mirror one last time before exiting the dorm, heading towards the great hall were dinner was waiting you two.

You guys entered the great hall taking place near Ron and Harry who had already started eating. You two greeted them but you soon noticed Harry and Ron staring at you. You give them a puzzled look which earned a quick answer from them.

“We’ve just never seen you with your hair like that” Ron started “yeah, they look great” Harry continued. You thanked them as the conversation topic switched to that dreaded potion’s essay you guys had to hand in in three days.

But you just couldn’t focus on the conversation, eyes searching for that tall, ginger prankster who had stolen your heart and that for some reason hasn’t arrived yet.

“You okay y/n?” Harry asked.

“Y-yeah sure” you replied, trying to keep your focus on the conversation.

“Yeah she’s just thinking about her red haired prince charming” Hermione chimed in with a small smirk on her lips. You felt your blood rush to your cheeks as you stayed silent, rolling your eyes.

The ginger twins entered the great hall, sitting down next to you so quickly that you hadn’t even realised they arrived.

Hi guys-“ George said, lips slightly parted and eyes widened as you turned around. “WOAH Y/N, YOUR HAIR” he said, catching Fred’s attention who looked at you with wide eyes and a small blush on his cheeks “I-is there something wrong with it?” You muttered worryingly. “No no no, it’s actually amazing, we just never saw you like this, right Fred?” He said, eyeing his twin with a smirk as the guy was still staring, lost in his thoughts. “Uhh yeah yeah, he’s right” he said quickly, shaking his head “you look beautiful like this, you know?” he said with a smirk as you felt your cheeks redden. Everybody looked at you two, eyes rolling jokingly as they were all thinking about when you’ll both confess your feelings to each other.

The conversation topic switched again from your hair to this mad prank the twins were pulling on Snape before coming to dinner.

You were now focused, lively as always, although you felt Fred’s eyes glued on you the whole time as you ate dinner and talked with your friends.

Dinner ended and, as you guys were all walking to the gryffindor common room, you felt an arm wrapping around your neck. You looked up, seeing Fred’s face smirking at you again as you looked away.

“So, new look uh?” He said. You guys were now walking behind the others.

“Yeah. It is too humid to use a straightener, my hair becomes poofy five minutes after straightening them” you started “so today Hermione helped me with styling them following their natural pattern” you say as you looked up again just to see that Fred’s eyes had widened “so these are your natural hair?” he asked.

You felt worry wash over you.

“Y-yeah…these are my natural hair.” you say, looking forward.

“Woah” he muttered “but why have I never seen them? I mean, you look bloody gorgeous with your hair like this, why won’t you wear them natural more often?” He asked, his cheeks slightly red as he looked at you with his signature smirk, although his eyes were softer now.

“It’s easier to wear it straightened sometimes” you replied, looking at him “plus, I think curly hair makes me look so messy. They just don’t suit me like they suit Hermione.” You said as your expression saddened. You felt Fred’s arm squeezing you making the butterflies in your stomach swarm like crazy. Since your crush started you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks getting warmer or butterflies in your stomach at every little touch. Even if it was accidental.

“I don’t think they make you look messy. They suit you so much” he said, twirling a curl around one of his fingers, focusing on his own motions “you know, I’ve always loved curly hair” he said, his gaze back on your face “I’ve always found them beautiful, especially on gorgeous girls like you~” he said, winking, his smirk back on his face. “Oh shut up!” You said in between giggles as you felt your cheeks redden as he squeezed you more.

“Never, sunshine~” he says with a playful tone, giving a small peck to your already warm cheek.

You thought he had definitely noticed that your whole face was now on fire, as he started laughing hard while his arm was still around your neck, his hand touching your soft, beautiful curls.

You now knew you had noting to worry about them.

[tab00-1nce51]

Vacation at the hotel with Aunt

Veronica : - Well, the nephew. How are you doing? Everything okay? Maybe you need something?

Veronica : - You know. Your Aunt Veronica is all for you. I'll do everything.

Nephew : - oh Aunt Veronica, thank you. I like everything, I'm happy with everything.

I am very glad that I am resting here with you. In this hotel. My vacation with you is my dream.

But there is one thing bothers me.

Veronica : - Which one, honey?

Nephew : - You said you'd do anything for me.

Veronica : - Yes. Tell me dear, what's bothering you?

Nephew : - I'm embarrassed to say this, but...

Veronica : - Go ahead, tell me.

Nephew : - I'm worried about your breasts.

Its so big. Beautiful, alluring.

I Can’t look anywhere elese.

I want to see her. 👀

Veronica : - Baby, this...

Nephew : - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that. I will go.

Veronica : - No, honey stay.

Veronica : - I wanted to say. I don't mind at all. If you want to see my breasts. I could help you with that.

Like i said. I will do everything to make my nephew happy.

Nephew : - Oh.. Wow Aunt Veronica are you serious?

Veronica : - Yes, baby. Do you want to see my breasts?

Nephew : - Yeah. Yeah..

Veronica : - Okay, you know what? I have an idea.

Sit in the chair and relax.

Nephew : - What are you doing?

Veronica : - I 'll show you now.

Nephew : - Oh, Aunt Veronica 💞

Veronica : - Just like that. You wanted my tits? You'll get them.

Yeah baby. Fuck my tits. I love it. ❤️

Veronica : - Yes, just like that. Oh. Do you want to f.. ck me in the mouth? Oh. Baby.

Slup.. Suck.. Mhm.. Whoa..

Nephew : - Yes, Aunt, take it in your mouth, oh yes. I f.. ck you between your boobs and you suck me. F.. ck Yeah.. 💦

Some time later..

Veronica : - Well.. You've finished all over my face, nephew.

Nephew : - I'm sorry for that. You're so hot. Sexual.

Veronica :- How do you like my idea, with my breasts? Did you like it?

Nephew : - oh,yes Aunt. You're just reading my mind. You're a sex bomb.

Veronica : - Thanks baby I liked it too. Ready for the second round?

Nephew : - Aunt Veronica, I can't believe it's happening. It's like a dream come true. Yes, I'm ready.

Veronica winked at her nephew, her face glistening with the evidence of his pleasure. She stood up from the bed, her voluptuous body moving with a seductive grace that seemed almost predatory. Walking over to the chair, she straddled him, her legs wrapping around his waist. With a knowing smile, she reached back and unclipped her bra, letting her ample breasts fall free. They were more than a handful, and her nipples were hard and pointed from the excitement of their little show.

Nephew stared up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust. He reached out and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. He squeezed gently, watching as Veronica's eyes closed and she let out a soft moan. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric as they moved closer together.

Nephew leaned in and began to kiss her neck, his hands roaming over her soft skin. Veronica tilted her head back, giving him better access. His kisses grew more insistent, turning into nibbles and gentle bites that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh and she knew that he was more than ready for round two.

With a seductive whisper, she leaned back and began to grind against him, her breasts bouncing with each movement. "I want you to fuck me, baby," she murmured into his ear. "Do you want to fuck me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before the nephew nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. Veronica slid down off the chair and onto her knees, her breasts still out and her hands reaching for the zipper of his pants. She pulled out his erect cock and began to stroke it, her eyes never leaving his. "You want this?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

The nephew nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Veronica took him in her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft in a way that was both practiced and enthusiastic. She sucked hard, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock, and he couldn't help but groan. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with mischief as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing out.

Their eyes locked as she continued to suck him, her hands playing with his balls. He could feel the tension building in his body, his orgasm approaching like a freight train. He reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her movements slightly.

With a final, deep moan, the nephew came in her mouth, and Veronica swallowed every drop, looking up at him with a satisfied smile. She stood up and took his hand, leading him back to the bed. "Let's not waste any more time," she said, pulling him down onto the mattress with her.

Their bodies tangled together, their kisses deepening as they explored each other's bodies. Veronica straddled him again, this time sliding down onto his cock with a gasp. She began to ride him, her breasts bouncing with each downward thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, and they both knew that this was just the beginning of their taboo rendezvous.

[suguwu]

the new moon is a dark eye in the sky. around it, the stars shine unfettered. you tilt your head to watch them glitter; they disappear when the porch light flickers on.

sae steps out onto the porch a moment later.

"the light was off for a reason," you say.

"you get too melancholy when you stargaze," he says flatly.

you let out a little breath. you hadn't realized he remembered that.

"so?"

he shrugs.

"is she asleep?"

"yeah."

"how many stories did it take?"

"less than yesterday."

you glance at sae. he's pretty even under the harsh florescence of the porch light; it plays over his face like a lover.

"why did you come out?" you ask.

"i'm leaving."

"oh."

he raises a brow.

"it's late," you say. your voice wavers, just a hint, a leaf trembling in the breeze. "you should stay."

"you said you didn't want me staying over."

"i know," you say. "just for tonight, though."

sae watches you for a moment. in the dim of the night, his teal eyes are darkened to the color of the winter sea, a deep, bleak blue. you shift under his gaze; it's an autopsy cut.

"no," he says. "i want more than just tonight."

"sae—"

"i want to be here," he says.

you pull your lower lip between your teeth, worrying at the flesh. sae tracks the movement, his eyes darkening even more.

"i'm not ready," you say.

he tilts his head. "yes," he says. "you are."

"i'm not."

"the school called me."

you blink, thrown by the non-sequitur. "okay?"

"they were confirming my number for her emergency contact."

your cheeks go hot. "i didn't realize they'd do that."

"you're ready," he says. "you're just scared of the fact that you're ready."

"don't say it like you know it for a fact, sae. you're not me."

he steps closer. the scent of him drifts around you, strengthened by the humid summer air. you breathe it in.

"let me in," he says, an echo of the past. he slips a hand to your jaw and makes you look at him. his eyes are blazing, st. elmo's fire.

"sae—"

he leans in; his breath puffs against your lips. you don't pull away.

he kisses you. his hand slips to the back of your neck; he uses it to cradle you closer. it's possessive. it makes a shiver slip down your spine, winter come early.

when you part, you smack him on the chest.

"ow," he says, deadpan.

"you can't kiss me compliant," you tell him.

he shrugs, unrepentant.

"tonight and tomorrow," you say, the words pulled from somewhere deep inside you. "and then we'll see."

he sighs. "fine," he says. "but i'll convince you."

you already know he will.

[miwiheroes]

Hey! Miwiheroes

I saw you succesfully converting a mileven into a byler, and can you do the same to me plz? I don't like mileven community, they often are really close minded and I don't wanna be a part of it anymore. I open the debate and please try to justify this things that make me believe in mileven endgame:

1- Mike has insecurities since s1 about feeling needed and having somebody to lean on, I do believe Mike's family lacks love and is cold, and maybe that is why he has those insecurities. Where am I going with this? Well, when El disappeared, Mike got super upset and, in my opinion, he overprotected Will so he could FEEL like somebody needed him, I think Finn and the Duffers mention it in an interview a while ago. So maybe that is the cause he couldn't say "I love you" to Eleven, he even says it, he believes she will leave him eventually, like everybody does. That is probs the cause he is obsessed with El in s3, because he really loves her and is too scared of losing her.

I just can't see why byler is supposed to be the endgame. I think in s5 Mike will motivate El to fight and they eventually will come together at the end, having their happy ending.

+ Maybe he was sad in the snowball because he thought El would just leave him there

Those insecurities are not healthy for a relationship, but they show he really loves her

I would love to see this things from a byler perspective if you can

Tyyy

Hiya!! Glad you came to me it's such an honour tbh

Yes, Mike definitely has insecurities surrounding being needed. The thing is: character arcs being set up in season 4 suggest that El no longer needs him/ should no longer need love from a man who treats her badly, makes her feel insecure. The change from the beginning of season 4 to the end clearly shows this:

El thinks she needs Mike's love to know that she is not a monster.

El goes to the lab and figures out by herself without Mike's love that she is not a monster.

Mike says 'I love you' to her. He calls her a 'superhero'. It does not work and does not save Hawkins because she no longer needs that.

They are not on the best terms afterwards because El has a very different perspective on things.

So now we've established that it's pretty clear that she no longer needs him. I think she's realised by the end, that their relationship won't work. This is why they won't be endgame for me, it makes no sense for her storyline in S5 to be Mike 'motivating her'.

She does not need a man to motivate her, cmon. Come on now. A point in season 4's lab storyline is that she can do all this shit by herself, drawing on her mother's love. She was able to gain back her powers through love, but at that point she had no clue Mike loved her or not. And yet she still got them back. She did not need Papa either, and he was constantly paralleled to MIKE in season 4.

Okay back to the beginning of your ask.

Mike's always been protective of Will, and we can see how their relationship is very different compared to their other friends throughout season one. An example of him being protective is when he does stuff like:

"I'm the only one acting normal here. I'm the only one that cares about Will."

"So this is all Will's fault?!"

*Literally pushes his bully over onto the ground and is willing to fight him after he says homophobic things about him*

*Constantly urges Lucas that Will is alive when the rest of them don't think so*

Like, bro literally instigates all his friends to go out looking for him in the rain, because he believes that would be what Will would do for them ("he put himself in danger to help the party").

So in your point of view, Mike projected his protective feelings about someone needing him onto Will because he's upset about El being gone. Couldn't the EXACT same thing be said but the opposite way around then? Mike likes to be needed. And it just happens to be that these two people need him in that moment. However, THE DIFFERENCE is this:

When Will goes missing? Mike never gives up. He constantly urges his friends to do whatever it takes to find Will. The reason he keeps El around (before he makes friends with her) is because bad people are after her and because she recognises Will in a photo. He says that El is a weapon and that "we can't find Will if we're dead". Even when they all believe him to be dead, he says that Will isn't because of something he heard on the radio, just like how Joyce heard him on the phone.

When El goes missing? Mike gives up. To be honest, it's been a year. Maybe if Will went missing for a year, he would have given up then too. But, we can see in a flashback scene from the VERY DAY that El goes missing, Mike literally sees her and doesn't go after her. The government does, but he just squints at her and doesn't do anything. Mike calls her on the walkie, and on halloween, he stops, prioritising Will and later figuring out that meeting him was the best thing he's ever done, and it seems conclusive. He has no hope of her being alive because he says to Max, "But she's gone, just like Bob." (Bobs literally just died so hes saying shes dead). Mike never uses Will as a vessel to find El, even though he easily could, being that he's connected to the upside down.

So where am I going with this? No. Mike does not project his feelings onto Will from his feelings about El. The behaviours he exhibits are continuous from his feelings before El went missing, and he doesn't treat him in the same way.

Some other points you brought up were:

Mike is afraid to lose El and that is why he can't say I love you. Of course he is afraid to lose her. He cares about her, he's said that truthfully. He's afraid to lose Dustin, he's afraid to lose Will, he's afraid to lose Lucas, he's afraid to lose anyone. He feels that survivors' guilt from season one especially though, which is all the more upsetting about why he says I love you in the end. Will tells Mike that El needs him and always will. Mike gets the belief that El needs him to say I love you to her, and gets reminded by Will before he says it. AND SO that is why he says it to her in the end. In reality of course, it is Will that needs him. SOOOO the thing that makes him 'love' El is that fact that she needs him, but he's going to get a real shock when he realises he loved the version of El that's really Will and what he feels.

Mike lives in a loveless and cold family. No he's not in a completely loveless family. Karen loves both her kids and expresses it regularly, and we even see this in season 4 when Karen hugs Mike at the reunion scene. I guess what you might be talking about is Ted and Karen. Here's the fucking thing. Mike knows his parents are not in love. He thinks that's what relationships are supposed to look LIKE. He internalises his family's issues. So, he gets into a relationship like his parents', a loveless one. In season 3 we see him trying to act on logic not emotion, seeing that getting into a relationship like this is just the logical course of action and just part of growing up. That's exactly what NANCY DOES WITH STEVE and yet I don't see people going 'oH shE lOveS hiM sHe jUst nEvEr sEen hEr pAreNts sAy iT!!!!'. We can all agree that she just tried to emulate her parents, but she doesn't actually love him. (SHE EVEN SAID I LOVE YOU OUT LOUD but still can't mean it truthfully). But how about we break this cycle? Breaking cycles of loveless relationships is one of the themes in stranger things so it makes sense for this to happen again.

Maybe he's sad in the Snowball scene because he thinks maybe El will leave him there. He only seemed upset when Will went with someone else and the camera shots literally makes it clear? I have a whole post on this if you want to read it: Snowball Scene Analysis. When El comes in, he doesn't say anything like 'Oh I had no idea you'd be here'. I believe that he knew she was coming, and sitting on that chair, he was conflicted given everything that went on with him that season, the promises he's made to El vs. the way he feels about Will now. The one shot of him looking at her also doesn't make him seem happy, but yeah, take that scene and do what you want with it tbh.

OOF okay thankyou so much for your ask!! This was quite the challenge but it really actually gave me a whole new perspective on things and I really love these asks because it gives me a chance to better understand the show itself <3 Let me know if you're swayed or smth haha or if you have a counterpoint :)

Also thanks for not being toxic. If anyone wants to come and debate with me, do it in this way, because there is no space for negativity and toxicity on my page thankyou very much.