#i actually dread writing him sometimes because he's supposed to be really good at talking

[neriyon]

Gotta ask for 15 and 20 for the pre-dawntrail wol questions! 😌

Pre-Dawntrail WoL questions

15. What would your wol be if they weren't the wol? What would they do as a job or career? Would they be happier?

Hawu'li would be some sort of travelling healer! Slowly going around from village to village, focusing on helping places that might not have their own resident healer. So technically not that different from now haha - just with a lot less god-killing and world saving, and more focus on individual cases.

As for how happy he would be: he'd defenitely like that and could not think of a better career, but he'd never meet even half of the people he meets now and I feel like that'd be a huge loss for him. Not to mention his separation anxiety would probably always stay around the ARR/HW levels (bad), since he might not have companions he'd slowly grow to trust to be there even when he can't see them at that exact moment.

20. What is your wol's best quality? What's the thing that they do that really gets stuff done of makes people like them? Hard mode: their own perception vs. a friend or partner's perception.

Hmm, I was first gonna say kindness, but maybe his very social nature? He's not afraid to start conversations and seems to naturally get along with people he meets. Like every time Scions arrive to a new location and start the "time to do some chores to get friends", chances are Hawu'li's already chatting up some random passerby. Leave him at it for a hour or so and he'll most likely return with 5 new friends ready to answer questions.

[ithinkabouttzu]

omg feel free to ignore but can you do BoB headcanons of having a female medic s/o with big boobs 🙏

Easy co.’s reaction to having a nurse s/o with big boobs

genre: Fluff; suggestive

warnings: Language, suggestion (sorry guys)

description: Easy company’s men reaction to you (their s/o) being their nurse and having big boobs.

a/n: Hey!! Sorry I totally didn’t see the medic part and I accidentally wrote it as nurse i’m so sorry 😭 Anywho, just a reminder that this isn’t any hate towards any itty-bitty-titty community at all! (love you guys for real!) Also, some of these might seem like they’re sexualizing the reader but please don’t take it that way, it’s all supposed to be about love!! Hope you enjoy reading <3

Taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @ronsparky @samwinchesterslostshoe @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

Dick Winters: - He tries to be the most respectful, it’s inappropriate to look at your body that way and he really respects you.

- But he also is fighting himself from blushing when he sees how your figure looks in your nurses uniform

- He finds you beautiful regardless though, no matter what your chest size is (even tho he’s had a very hard time trying not to stare)

Lewis Nixon: - his eyes get really big when he sees you in your nurse uniform, your cleavage out almost perfectly.

- His throat becomes dry, he feels the urge to drink water, lots of it from his recent thirst, but it seems the only thing he’s thirsty for is you.

- After seeing only men for the past months, and you being the first women he sees in the hospital, he almost dies flat out and he would be completely happy to do so

Carwood Lipton: - He doesn’t even notice at first, he only looks when you have to reach across his body in order to find a good vein.

- His face gets so red, one because he’s guilty for looking, another because he’s absolutely in awe of the beautiful things in front of him

- He still tries to not objectify you, but he truly finds you beautiful in general. He can’t help but get goosebumps at the thought of seeing you again

Joe Toye: - Man when he sees you in that nurses dress, after almost a year of seeing only the men around him, he gets so close to losing it

- He literally starts drooling at the mouth whenever he sees you, you’re like a dream come true, an answer to every single one of his prayers.

- When you do get close to him it’s like he can’t breathe, your body only clouds his mind with unholy thoughts and the dying urge to feel your pretty chest. He’s absolutely desperate for you and getting to know you for the rest of his stay at the hospital.

Joe Liebgott: - NOW WE ALL KNOW THIS MAN IS HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE When he sees you, he actually does lose it, a big smile rising onto his face as though the girl of his dreams is now assigned as his nurse

- He’s an absolute slut for you. Like he’s gonna try his absolute best to make you his, whatever he has to do, he’ll do it. He can’t help but flirt with you any chance he can get.

- When it’s getting close to the end of his stay, he’s dreading it. Only wishing to see you everyday. He’ll practically beg to see you again sometime, or if he can write to you. And being good friends you say yes, making him the happiest man alive.

Bill Guarnere: - He’s probably the biggest flirt you’ve had as a patient. The look on his face is the equivalence of a kid in a candy store for the first time. He’s quick to introduce himself to you, bringing out his best charm for you

- “You always walk around looking like that? It’s killin’ me, doll, and you know it” He would whisper in your ear as you take care of him. It’s hard not to give in when he’s so enticing like this, his voice sending you chills when he talks to you so romantically.

- He’d promise he’d write to you once he gets better, making sure that once the war was over, he’d find you again and take you out the right way.

George Luz: -He gets so smiley when he sees you, he doesn’t mean to stare at your chest, in his defense your chest was kinda staring at him first, your uniform was a bit tight in the upper half making you a bit more revealed, but he didn’t mind one bit.

-He was actually rather joyful, whenever he saw you, you brought his hopes up a bunch. It always made him so happy to see you. Just being around a women and getting to be taken care of by you was a dream.

- He loves every second that he has with you, I could definitely see him being quite smitten with you after you taking such good care of him.

Eugene Roe: - He gets super shy around you and finds it pretty hard to make eye contact for the longest. He never thought he’d be the one to end up hurt, especially when he was supposed to be the one to help people get better, but being around you makes things a lot better.

- Sometimes he’d like to imagine that you guys are together while you’re taking care of him and when he’s really sad. just a lovely girlfriend taking care of her sick boyfriend is what he sees in his head (even tho he knows that’s not the case)

- When you ask if he’d like for you to write letters, he almost finds it impossible that a gorgeous girl like you, would want him to be your man. He’s estatic and would say yes immediately.

Bull Randleman: - It’s love at first sight for him. “Wow” is all he can say under his breath when he sees you for the first time. It’s an amazing sight.

- In the most non-offensive way possible, you’re like a wet dream come true to him. A sweet, pretty girl, with the prettiest tits known to man, taking care of him while he’s hurt.

- It’s like a dream for the rest of his time there. He waits and counts down the hours until you take care of him again, he’s just so happy to be in your presence.

Floyd Talbert: - After everything he’s endured the past months, you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Literally a gift from God. You and your amazing top half mesmerizing him by the way you do practically anything.

- He looks forward to every-time he sees you. And when he does he’s flirting with you nonstop. “You know, when all this is over with, I would love to get to know you better.”

- He’s gotta a staring problem really bad, he tries to stop, but he can’t help it. You’re the first woman he’s laid eyes on in so long and he just can’t get enough of your body.

Skip Muck: - “Christ in heaven, you’re the best thing i’ve seen my entire life” He says when you walk to his bed, urgent for your care. “How are you today beautiful? Do I need to fight any fellas for giving you a problem?” He’s very playful with you, but there’s only truth to his words.

- He thinks you’re so pretty though, he’s like a schoolgirl crushing on her teacher, anticipating for your arrival everyday, and being a pet to you everytime you are around.

- When his stay is ending, he finally confesses his feelings to you, letting you know how much he actually enjoys spending time with you, and how he would love to see you after the war.

Don Malarkey:- He’s like a little boy around you, so cheerful and happy. When he first met you he was struck by your pretty face, and its was no surprise that your chest was perfect too.

- He tries being respectful every time you’re around, but it’s hard not to steal a glance at your pretty chest every now and then. You never fail to send butterflies down his body when you get close to him too.

-He’s extra sweet to you always, calling you ma’am respectfully, asking if he can do anything for you despite his physical condition. He’s just very happy to have a positive energy like you around him.

Babe Heffron: - “My goodness, what have I done to deserve you” He says when he sees you walk over to him, it doesn’t even matter if he’s hurt, he can’t feel it anymore. Only thing he can feel is a burning desire for you.

- You’ll catch him staring towards you a lot, he doesn’t even try to hide his staring eyes. He is truly fascinated with you.

- When his stay gets cut short, he asks you if you’d like for him to write to you, it was the sweetest you’d ever saw him. When you said yes he would grab you in a hug and swing you around with joy.

Shifty Powers: - He’s the most respectful out of all the guys. He’s well aware of how perfect your chest is, but he’s not going out of his way to make you uncomfortable at all. He’s pretty mature about it.

- But he does find you beautiful, to him, your body is obviously amazing, but you are so much more to him then just a nice nurse with pretty tits. You’re amazing girl that he would love to know more of.

- He probably would tell you how he feels later on once his time there was up, it he would be super nice and respectful about it.

Frank Perconte: - He’s like a dog to a bone, absolutely enamored with you and your smokin’ body (as he would like to call it)

- “What a dame” He’d say under his breath, suddenly in the need of water by your nice looks. He’s definitely gotta staring problem (he really can’t help it 😭)

- “When all this is over with, you wanna come home with me, pretty girl?” He would flirt with you until he physically can’t anymore

Ronald Speirs: - He doesn’t want to give you a huge reaction, but if you could read his mind, you’d be surprised about the things he’d been thinking about….

- “Doll, do you know the effect that you leave on half of the guys in this place? I can’t tell you what all they’d do just to touch you”

- In all, he’s mesmerized by your body and the way you move. Even in the most basic moments, he just can’t help but watch you do your job.

Skinny Sisk: - “You’re my nurse, wow. Is it my lucky day or somethin’?” When he sees you, he’s so happy that you’re gonna be the one taking care of him

- He’s a big simp for you, if you need anything, someone to talk to, help (if he’s physically able) then he’s more then willing to do it.

- He’s so smiley and happy around you it’s so sweet!! He tries not to stare at your amazing rack but he thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen.

Chuck Grant: - “Golly, am I in heaven?” He thinks you’re an absolute angel after all of the hell he’s seen. If good looks could kill, he’d be willing to die under your watch.

- He has to remind himself constantly than your eyes are “up there” instead of anything otherwise, but he can’t concentrate on anything when you’re in the room (for obvious reasons ofc)

- He’s well behaved on the most part though, just a sweet bby who loves your chest like it’s nothing LOL

Johnny Martin: - He actually feels so much better when he finds out you are gonna he his nurse. Christmas day came early for him (a pretty girl with nice tits was for sure on his list)

- “What are you doin’ here? Shouldn’t you be performing at some show or something, you’re too pretty to work” He doesn’t understand why you’re having to move a finger tbh, you’re too precious to him 😭

- “I had a nice time with you while I was here, if you ever wanna write to me, you can, doll” He honestly gets kinda sad when he knows he won’t be able to wake up to your pretty face (and tits) everyday.

David Webster: - Tbh you’re the real reason why he’s in the hospital for so damn long 🤣 like the moment he met you he just had to be around you at all times

- He stares a lot, and has a quite bit of dirty daydreams containing your chest and him 😭

- Honestly he didn’t even think he was a boobs guy until he met you, you really changed him for the better

Buck Compton: - He’s this emoji: 🤤, actually drooling at the mouth, you look so good to him.

- He’s never been happier to be in a hospital at the moment, your presence is enough to bring him back to full health tbh

- He’s super thankful in general that he has such a pretty and well rounded (see what I did there ) nurse taking care of him while he’s down

Thank you for your request! If you enjoyed, make sure to reblog or like! 🩷

[usmsgutterson]

Hello Can you do a Poly one with Nikolai & Zoya fic it can be fluff with prompt 6 ? Where the reader has a crush on them

Recipe Box- poly! zoyalai x gn! reader

okay, hi! First ever poly fic of any kind. I've debated writing poly fics before but I've never actually done it so this was next level nervewracking for me and I hope it's decent.

I'm sorry it took me so long to see the requests you've sent in, things get buried in my inbox really quick and this request was no exception for a bit, but dear nonnie, I hope you like this in spite of how long it took me to get this out!

The prompt you requested was fluff prompt six: “Character A wanted me to give this to you,” Character B said.

Fic type- fluff with so much yearning

Warnings- none

You found yourself laughing at Tamar and Tolyas bickering as the three of you moved through the hallways of the Grand Palace, a discussion picking up and dropping in brief moments as the end of the day drew nearer. 

The time after the war was tough, the adjustments necessary difficult ones to make and the grief for those you’d lost immense and painful. Nikolai plunged into his kingly duties after he was crowned, Zoya took up the creation and the maintenance of her garden, you took to baking and the twins to sparing to sharpen their already sharp skills. 

Tolya and Tamar became members of Nikolais guard, working for him as they’d once worked for Alina and her sun cult. You almost took up a position alongside them, one offered to you by Nikolai after the war, but you refused. Despite it, finding the twins was always easy, striking a conversation with them easier even still.

You’d taken up working in the kitchens, making the menus for the week and putting effort into baking during your off time so that Genya and Zoya could always have the sweet pastries they liked at the drop of a hat and, selfishly, because baking had always been therapeutic for you.

Baking brought you plenty more joy than being on the sea did, but in the days of the war, being on a ship crew meant easy money, and easy money was good enough for you back then, while you worked on the Volkvolny with Nikolai as the captain.

You met Zoya in those times, too, so you wouldn’t’ve counted the war as an entirely dreadful time. You’d fallen for Nikolai when you worked on the ship alongside him, fallen for Zoya as you fought at her side against the Darkling. You had crushes on them for two years, and at that rate, it never seemed like the feelings you held would quite escape you. 

So, as you approached the war room with Tamar and Tolya, you were relaxed. It'd been your day off but you'd baked throughout it even still, and you'd dropped a basket of sweet pastries at Genya and Davids door in the hour before you found yourself where you were, with Tamar and Tolya at your sides as you walked them to the war room before you would either head to your room or to the palace library, where you grab a book and spend the next few nights reading.

Nikolai caught sight of you and grinned as you entered the room.

Tamar elbowed you lightly, shooting you a grin as your gaze met one of the people you’d been in love with for what sometimes felt like a thousand days. 

“Every time,” she whispered. “Him and Zoya. Every bloody time, and still—fools. The lot of you.” 

“Hey,” Nikolai greeted Tolya as you made a point of ignoring Tamars words simply for the fact that you didn’t believe them. “Alls well on the grounds?” 

“No threats waiting to jump out and kill you,” Tamar said pointedly. “Grounds sweep was successful.” 

Nikolai looked at you again, and seemed to remember something. You watched him pause for a moment before turning, picking up a small box and walking it over to you.

“Zoya wanted me to give this to you,” Nikolai said. “You bake in the kitchens a lot. Said it was recipe boxes with stuff you’d talked about.” 

You grinned as you took the box, grin widening as you met his gaze. “Thank you,” you said, turning on your heel. “For delivering it, I suppose. I need to find her, give her my thanks.” 

Nikolai nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Tamar, Tolya and I have much to discuss. I don’t know if I’ll see you again tonight, so goodnight, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “Goodnight, Nikolai,” 

And with that, you left, heart thrumming as you walked down the halls of the Grand Palace, a huge part of you hoping to see Zoya before you retired to your room for the night. 

You ended up not seeing her, but you made a mental note to thank her for the very sweet gift when you would see her the following day, at the end of your shift in the kitchens and likely as she sat by a samovar of tea, either chatting with Genya and David or finding something to bicker about with Tolya or Nikolai. 

It was something to which you looked forward immensely. 

[javaelemental]

(Netflix) Avatar: The Last Airbender, Ep. 1

I just watched the first episode of Netflix's live action Avatar. Spoilers, folks.

Well, it was certainly pretty, I'll give it that. The FX/CGI are great. The bending looks good.

The cast looks good, too. I mean, one episode, mostly young actors, so I don't have much to say one way or the other about them yet.

I do have one thing to say and that is that I was not super impressed with any of the adult actors. It was kind of like they all got together and decided "Look, this is for kids, we're gonna need to dumb this down a lot. We better act out loud and in primary colors or the kiddies ain't gonna get it."

But also, didn't love Iroh. He was just kind of flat. I'm not very familiar with the actor, but I know he's been in a bunch of things and I know he's supposed to be good. For now I'm gonna go ahead and side eye the writing and the directing here on his behalf, because I think they're not giving him much to work with or very good direction.

I get why they decided to start with showing the Air Temple being attacked. I can totally see the writer's room being like, "Oh, neat, we can show all that, it'll be dramatic and scary and show the stakes and show off the firebenders and blahblahblah." I get it. I just don't think it works. We were a handful of episodes in before we saw that in the cartoon, and by then, we knew the characters, liked them, and were invested in them. We knew what had happened because Katara and Sokka had talked about it, but Aang didn't know yet, not really, so we knew he was gonna be upset. Like, there was a little dread and anticipation built up there. And when we finally got to it, man, it hit like a freight train, because we cared about everyone. Putting all that right up front before we give a crap about anybody involved really robbed it of it's impact.

Frankly, so did actually showing it. In the cartoon we only saw the aftermath and had to fill in the horror for ourselves. Protip for baby writers: Sometimes rubbing the audience's face in the tragedy is not the best way to tell them what happened. Sometimes you can just show them the emptiness that's left behind, and if you've done your character work right, that's going to hit harder than damn about anything else you can do.

I dunno, guys. I don't have a good feeling about the rest of this season. I'm hoping this thing just has a real bad case of pilot-itis, if that's still a thing in the streaming age.

I didn't go into this expecting a shot-for-shot remake of the cartoon. I expected them to change a lot of things, and put their own spin on everything, and that's fine. It's a remake, you're allowed to make it your own thing. But... when you're remaking a beloved story, you can change a lot, but you have to at least bring the original's heart and soul along for the ride. And uh, I didn't see a lot of that happening in this first episode. Fingers crossed that it gets better, folks.

[petri808]

7/29/23 Fears prompt @allaboutnalu for Nalu Week 2023

Levy gently places her hand over her best friends, coaxing her to relax. “Try not to worry and have a little fun tonight Lucy, we’re celebrating your freedom.” The two women are at their favorite bar to drown their stress in alcohol, music, and maybe some eye-candy but who’s gonna snitch? It is a comfortable place that they’ve been coming to since their college years, and since they know some of the employees, they even get drinks for free sometimes.

“I can’t help it,” Lucy sighs. “Everything’s still so fresh,” she absentmindedly reaches up and touches her left cheek below her eye where it was punched a week ago. Thankfully, the bruising has gone down and it’s just tender still. This is the first time in probably a year that she’s been to this bar or really spent the night out just with her girlfriends because of her ex’s controlling behaviors. “Dan just won’t leave me alone. I’ve even seen him driving past my job or home like he’s keeping tabs.”

Lucy Heartfilia has just gotten out of an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend Dan. It started out like so many domestic abuse situations where they are perfect gentlemen, sweet talking, and romantic, but slowly and surely the psychological manipulation began. Guilt-tripping her when she wanted to hang out with her friends or visit her own family. Making excuses for why he wanted to drive her to and from work. Throwing tantrums when he didn’t get his way, verbally berating, or making rude comments about her appearance only to switch gears and be extremely apologetic. Dan would tell her he’d commit suicide if she left him, and so the guilt also kept her from leaving for fear that he might actually go through with it. Of course, it’s all a trap, to lure her back in emotionally and make her feel like things will get better.

It was always that hope of change that she hung onto as the cycle repeated itself again and again. Abuse and repentance. But there’s only so much someone can take, and thankfully for Lucy she has the support of a best friend that will not let her fall. Yeah, it’s great to be free, but there is always the sense of fear and dread when she must walk outside alone, like when she’s leaving her apartment building or office, or even shopping at the store. What if Dan makes good on his threats? She’s never been such a nervous person before that it’s sad how one bad relationship can leave a person tainted for the rest of their lives.

“Did you go to the court house to apply for the restraining order?” Levy queries.

“I did.” Lucy responds. “The process server is supposed to serve him tomorrow.”

“Good,” Levy responds with an approving nod. “Then if that bastard comes near you, the cops can throw him in jail!” She looks around to see if the server’s nearby before standing up. “I’m gonna run to the restroom, if the server comes by can you order me another drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lucy smiles. “I’ll make sure to.”

With the music an even tempo of soft alternative and pop, nothing to dance or too lively, it lulls the listeners into a pleasant mood. Lucy really misses coming to this ambient atmosphere after a hard week of pursuing and writing articles instead of going home to an unhappy relationship. If only… Her eyes narrow in towards the front entrance, widening in a flash as she sees Dan step through the threshold.

“Shit!” She grits her teeth and scoots down in the booth. “I knew it!” Lucy just knew he’d likely come looking for her since he knew this is a favorite hang out spot.

Lucy scans the room, eyes flitting around for a way to avoid being caught by him. She can’t get to the front door because it’ll take stepping into the open for him to grab her, and she rather not get trapped in the restrooms... Maybe, she keys onto the bar counter… maybe if she can get to the bartender she’ll at least have an ally to help her. Using the columns and darker areas along the walls, Lucy weaves through other patrons towards the bar counter.

“Lucy!”

Her body stiffens at the familiar angry voice and cringes when she sees Dan yelling and waving frantically while he picks up his pace. No, no, no! As he pushes through the crowd, Lucy sprints the final few feet and grabs onto the first guy sitting alone at the counter. Pink-hair, taller and fit wearing a nice buttons down business shirt and slacks like he just got here from an office. Under other circumstance she’d be ogling the guy not crashing his evening. “Hey babe!” She weaves her arm around his solid bicep. “Sorry I’m late!” Lucy leans close and whispers through a gritted smile, her eyes desperately focused and appealing. “Please play along!”

Just as Dan reaches them, the male who’s eyes at first startles from the intrusion, quickly catches the hint and pulls Lucy in, planting a kiss on her cheek, and all the while side-eyeing the other male. “It’s fine baby, I just got here too.”

“What the fuck!” Dan forcefully grabs the strangers shoulder and pushes while reaching for Lucy’s arm, but the stranger sweeps Lucy aside out of Dan’s way, further enraging him.

Placing Lucy behind him, the stranger stands up from the bar stool and holds his hand up to Dan’s chest without actually touching him. “What the fuck is right!” The pink-haired male menacingly narrows his gaze. “I suggest you back off buddy, I don’t give a damn who you are, but the lady clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you!”

“This ain’t your problem, asshole, she’s my girlfriend!” Dan spits back.

“No, I’m not!” Lucy screams as tears trickle down her cheeks. “You abusive bastard, I’ve got a restraining order on you so leave me alone! We’re done!”

Dan ignores both their statements and makes another lunge to reach for Lucy, but the stranger open palm pushes at Dan’s chest, forcing him to stagger back a foot or two. “Leave!” The stranger snaps, growling his words. “She’s my girl now, and if you keep harassing her I’ll make you sorry!”

At the strangers confirmatory words, Dan roars and lunges at the man who sidesteps and retaliates with an uppercut to his stomach, knocking the wind out of Dan who crumples to the floor coughing. Just as Dan tries to get to his knees, the bouncers are now there and grab him by his shoulders, one on each side they start pulling him away as he continues to shout profanities.

It’s over.

Lucy slumps against the bar top, leaning on it to stop from falling as the adrenaline rushing through her body begins to wane. “Thank you,” the words trickle out in a soft tone laced with held back tears. “Thank you sir, thank you so much,” Lucy repeats over and over.

“Lu!” Levy also finally manages to break through the gathered crowd and rushes to her friends side, pulling the blonde into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here!”

“It’s over, Levy,” Lucy gently sobs a mixture of elated relief. “Thanks to this nice man here.” Now that she can breathe easier, she realizes this stranger is even cuter than she originally noticed. He has gorgeous green eyes that sparkle in the disco-type lights panning the room. The man’s smile also conveys a happy lightness that pulls you in deeper and wanting for more. She feels a bit of warmth brewing over her cheeks, but could anyone blame her after such a harrowing save by this hero?

Levy turns to the stranger while still holding her friend. “I’m Levy, and this is my bestie Lucy.” Her head tips to the side and eyes flit to the front door to accentuate the who. “That guy’s been stalking my friend, so thank you so much for helping her! He might’ve kidnapped her if he got to her.”

The stranger smiles. “It’s nice to meet you both, and don’t worry, I’m happy to help out a pretty lady in need. I’ve dealt with a lot of dumbasses over the years, so I’m used to it.”

“I bet,” Levy chuckles. “It’s a nice reminder that good guys still exist.”

Here they are chatting like old friends yet they don’t even know his name. Lucy pulls away from Levy to finish wiping away the remaining tears and clean herself up. “So, what’s you name sir?” She finally smiles genuinely. “Is there anything I can do for you, perhaps buy you a drink to thank you?”

The man pulls out a card holder and hands Lucy a business card. “Detective Natsu Dragneel at your service,” he smiles and winks. “A drink is fine, but what I’d really like is your number and to take you out to dinner if you’re up for it.”

A surprised gasp lets out as Levy looks to see Lucy’s face turning cherry red. Having known each other for years, she knew exactly what her best friend is thinking. “Yes!” Levy squeals while pushing Lucy closer to the man. “She’d love to!”

“Levy!”

[fatuismooches]

SMOOOCHES!!! Hiii darling! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱ა

This isn’t a story but really just me coming on here to talk so I hope you don’t mind! I’m sorry if it’s ever a bother or disturbs you! But I finally finished with all my exploration~! Well, I actually finished on the 10th of July (aka this month) BUT I felt a little shame to just come on here and say that I had finished I was too embarrassed;; but how has everything been? I hope you’re staying fresh in this blazing summer (it’s literally like 115° every single day here it’s unbearable for me and my dog) and also making the most out of it! I’m dreading going back to school in less than a month I’m not ready!!! (Leaks mentioned: ALSO HAVE YOU HEARD OF A SUPPOSED NEW DOTTORE SOUNDTRACK? It sounds so good AND IT MAY BE A CUTSCENE kinda like Kazuha’s friend or Makoto’s in the Archon Quests! I’m really hoping we get more lore on our boo boo Dottore he’s just so interesting!!) I also just recently read a VERY lengthy character analysis on him and oh mygskkd. It really helped me get to understand Dottore as a character and how it disapproves of many misconceptions of himself. (Like being a sadist for ex.) if you ever want the link I can send it since it was on tt. And the day I’m writing this it’s Childe’s birthday, which ironically enough my mom also shared a birthday with him LMAO. (She’s only aware of this bc of how much I dawn over the chars 😭) and to answer your question from one of the recent brainrots I had made “who are you saving up for” I’m actually saving up for Zhongli cons! He’s at C0 rn but in hoping to at least get C2 or C3, but I also won’t be spending my almost 400 wishes on him since I really want a lot of the Fontaine characters, and I’m still hoping for Dottore to become playable soon 😭 (this is me trying to cope) but I hope you have a wonderful day and week!! But before I end this off, can we agree the Dottore pictured in Nahida’s cute story with Wanderer IS ADORABLE?? Like i sometimes just wanna write about the little creature because it’s so cute. Is he ugly? A little but he’s ugly in the cute way!!! I swear I would just want to hug him to sleep. (Many ideas with fragile reader come to mind now LMAO) but anyways !!! I give you so many chu chus n cuddles n a lot of love!! Make sure you’re staying healthy and drinking water in this scorching heat. I give u so many kisses your heart explodes!!! ><

- from your boo boo bear 🎐 anon!! ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

🎐 ANON!!! I MISSED YOU AHHH!!!!

It's more than okay i love talking to you!!! And OMF I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!! I know it was such a grind and probably a bit exhausting at times but I'm so proud of you 😌💖 Giving you lots of kithes and hugs!! Mwahhhh!!

115 DEGREES??? HOLY- I thought it was hot where I live 😭 I'm barely surviving like every other summer but omg I'm so sorry 😭 And you have a dog?? How cute! What type of dog do you have, if i may ask?🥰 Though i have been unproductive all summer unfortunately, the heat makes me not want to do anything haha

AND YESSSS IVE SEEN THE LEAKED OST MY EYES POPPED OPEN AT THE POSSIBLE DOTTORE APPEARANCE 👁 IM SO EXCITED I WANT HIM IN FONTAINE BADLY!! Also i think I've read the same character analysis on tiktok like you, was it called "Sadist or Scientist" and had many many slides? With the character and design analysis? If yes i too read it and it was so good! I love seeing analysis on him especially since there are not much crumbs on him. Oh and happy belated birthday to your mom! I hope you had fun with her!💖

Omg almost 400 wishes??? I havent had that much since the time I've saved for Wanderer 👏 I really hope you get lots of cons for him! I also love Zhongli sm but that man has avoided me on all three banners. First banner i didn't have enough primos and missed him, second banner i lost to Qiqi, third banner i lost to Jean lol. I forgot he is coming so i will try to get him again for the fourth time 🤣 Manifesting hard for you 💖🙏 (Dw I'm also coping on playable Dot😭😭)

AND YESSS OMG I LOVE THE LIL STRANGE DOT CREATURE SO MUCH. I need someone to make a good quality plushie of that creature so i can cuddle it 🥺 HYV was probably intending to make the creature look unsettling, but nah, i wholly think it's adorable. I would hold its little hand. (Always ready to listen to your fragile reader ideas tho 😌🤞)

Hehe I'm giving you lots of more cuddles and kisses!! 🫂 I hope you're staying hydrated as well!! We shall get through this heat together 💪 Smooch smooch !! <33

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

No Business Like Show Business | Part Three

Series Summary: you work backstage at a theatre and become close with the star of the show (who you may also have a slight crush on)

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: not proof read 🙈

A/N: ugh im sorry it takes me so long to write each part of this story, writers block is a bitch. Feel free to substitute James for any actor of your choosing. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Two | Masterlist

- - - - -

If you’d have told me five years ago that one day I’d be working in a professional west end theatre alongside some of the countries best actors and actresses, I’d have been amazed. Add on that I would get to meet James McAvoy, and actually be his friend… well my inner teenager is fan-girling HARD.

James has been spending a lot of time with me in the props room lately. He sits and learns his lines while I sit and make the props. Sometimes we talk and laugh, other times we sit comfortably in each others company as we silently get on with our jobs.

I think he’s just happy to get away from Anastasia to be honest. I know its unprofessional to speak badly about the people you work with, especially if they’re one of the ‘stars’, but she is unbearable. On the rare occasion she actually chooses to acknowledge my existence, she insists on calling me ‘props girl’ and refuses to learn my name. James always gives me an apologetic look, even though its not his fault.

I don't know what her problem is with me. I’m just going to get on with my work and stay out of her way.

— — — —

As you take the familiar route through the theatre corridors and down to the basement, you’re surprised to find the props room door already open. ‘Vera?’ you think to yourself as you slowly approach the door. ‘Finally got her’ you smirk, preparing yourself before jumping into the room.

“Caught you! Step away from the tin- oh!” You stop as you find James sat on one of the chairs, his script on the table in front of him. He holds his hands up in fake surrender.

“I’m innocent I swear”

“Sorry, I thought you were Vera. She’s been sneaking in here and stealing my biscuits.” You explain and James laughs. “You’re here early today aren’t you?”

“Yeah, we’re rehearsing a difficult scene today so I wanted to get in and study the lines before.”

“How’s that going?” You say, dumping your bag and looking over his shoulder at the pages of dialogue in front of him.

“Eh, not good. I just can’t get this scene right.” He says looking down at his script in defeat then back at you. “Hey would you mind running through the lines with me? If you're not too busy?”

“Sure, yeah I can do that.”

“Great!” he says pulling out the other chair from under the desk and gesturing for you to sit.

As you sit he riffles through his script looking for a specific page and hands it to you. You stare at it, suddenly feeling very anxious. You hated reading aloud anyway, but reading a scene with a professional actor made you feel a whole new level of dread.

What if you mess up the words?

What if you lose your place on the page and can’t find it again?

How are you supposed to read it? Just like read the words off the page or is he expecting you to actually act it out?

You've never acted before, you're probably terrible at it and he’s going to think you're pathetic.

Why did you agree to this?

He must have noticed the panic in your eyes because he suddenly reaches out to put his hand on yours.

“Don't worry, this isn't an audition or anything. I won't judge you. I just need someone to say the other characters lines so that I can practice mine. But if you really don't want to do it I completely understand.” He flashes you a smile that instantly reassures you.

“It’s fine, I can do it.” You say, more to yourself than to James.

“Thank you.” You both smile as he squeezes your hand and nods to signal that he’s about to start the scene.

It was a passionate argumentative scene between two lovers. James delivered his lines perfectly, as you expected he would. You started off a bit slow, stumbling here and there but with James acting his lines out with such realism you felt yourself getting sucked into the scene so much that before you knew it you naturally started acting out the lines too.

Throughout the scene the argument gets less angry and more passionate. By the end of the scene you and James are both out of your seats standing so close together that your faces are inches apart. His hand is cupping your face, thumb gently stroking your lips as he’s staring hungrily at them. You're heart is beating so loud in your chest you think he can probably hear it too. Then suddenly he breaks away, and you stand there trying to regulate your breathing.

“And that’s where the characters will have their kiss, which we haven’t rehearsed yet so we’ll stop there.” He takes the script back from you and smiles. “Well done Y/N, you’re a natural! You should be on that stage instead of hiding down here underneath it.” He says and you laugh “I mean it Y/N, I really feel like there’s something there. Have you done any acting before?”

“As a kid, yeah I took classes and I loved it. It was all I ever thought about for a while, being on stage. It just never worked out”

“Why not?”

“Because I grew up-”

“You don't want do that” he interrupts with a smile.

“-and I became painfully aware of other people’s opinions.”

“Now you definitely don't want to do that.”

“Yeah well I do! I know I shouldn’t care, but that’s easier said than done.”

“At some point you’ve got to stop living your life in fear of what people might think, and just start living. The truth is people will form opinions of you no matter what you do, so you may as well do the things that you want.” He pauses, studying your face. “and if anyone judges you, fuck ‘em… not literally I mean, that’s not great advice-”

“No I know what you mean” you both laugh. “Thank you James”

There’s a comfortable silence as the two of you look at each other, smiling. James glances behind you to the clock on the wall, his eyes widen.

“Shit! I need to go, I’m supposed to at rehearsal!” He heads to the door “thank you for reading with me.”

“It’s fine, anytime.”

“See you around superstar.” He winks before disappearing out the room.

You stand there for a moment, replaying what just happened in your head. He was about to kiss you, right? I definitely felt that way. You didn’t imagine that.

You shake the thoughts from your head and refocus your mind on getting your work done.

— — — —

At lunch you make your way to the wardrobe department.

“Fancy a coffee date?” You ask cheerfully as you walk through the door, looking down at your phone.

“Are you buying?” an unexpected voice replies and you look up to find an almost naked James standing on a stool in his underwear.

“Sorry!” You say, quickly covering your eyes. “I thought you were-“

“Vera?” He says at the same time as you “This keeps happening. You do know that me and Vera look nothing alike?” He jokes and you laugh awkwardly.

“Where is she?”

“She just gone to the storeroom, she should be back any minute. At least I hope she will, I’m getting cold.” He laughs. There’s a brief silence. “You can look at me you know? I don’t mind.”

Slowly you drop your hand from your eyes and tentatively look up at him. He flashes you a smile which you return. There’s another small silence as you look at each other, but the silence is interrupted when Vera returns. She looks between you and James before giving you a cheeky look that makes you have to suppress a laugh.

“Hello my lovely, what brings you to the wardrobe department?” She says as she wraps some fabric around James torso and marks various measurements.

“I was just looking for you actually. Wondered if you wanted to come to the coffee shop with me for lunch?”

“That’s a brilliant idea! Will you be joining us James?” She asks and he looks surprised.

“If thats alright with you..?” He replies, looking at you but Vera responds.

“Of course it is dear. I tell you what, why don't you get dressed and go with Y/N to get us a table while I finished up here.” She says as she hands James his clothes.

“We can wait for you-“ you begin but Vera cuts you off.

“Nonsense. You two go on ahead and I’ll join you.”

— — — —

“She’s not coming” you say as you read the text message on your phone. “She said she’s sorry but she’s suddenly got a lot of work to do and said to have a nice lunch without her.” You put your phone back in your pocket and look across the table at James.

“Guess it’s just you and me” he smiles.

There’s a silence as you both takes sips of your coffee.

“So, how did the rehearsal go?” You ask.

“Really good! Although I have to say I preferred having you as my scene partner.” He says with a wink.

“Careful, if Anastasia heard you say that she’d probably have me fired.” You say with a small laugh.

“Nah, she’s harmless really. She talks like she’s the most important person in the room but in reality she knows she’s just as replaceable as the rest of us. Just ignore her. She’s only a bitch to you because she’s jealous.”

“Jealous?!” You laugh in disbelief as you look down at your coffee “Of me? I don't think so.”

“Why wouldn’t she be? You're kind, funny…” he pauses and you look up at him “…beautiful… People like you a lot Y/N and Ana can’t stand it when there’s someone else in the room that people like more than they like her. So rather than try to make herself better, she tries to make the other person worse. The best thing you can do is just carry on being your wonderful self.”

“Thanks” you say quietly, feeling awkward from all the compliments. You find yourself looking down at your coffee again as you twirl the cup in your hands. Suddenly James reaches across the table and places his hand gently on your forearm, causing you to look up at him again. His face is closer now.

“I mean it Y/N, I’m not just saying this to make you feel good. You really are a wonderful person. I’m so glad I got this job, because it meant I got to I meet you.”

You feel cheeks getting hotter as James’ brilliant blue eyes gaze into yours.

‘Is this really happening?’  You think as James seems to be slowly getting closer to you across the table ‘Am I really about to kiss James McAvoy?’

A flash of light catches your attention and you turn to see a man stood at the coffee shop window with a camera covering his face. It flashes again and you realise he’s taking photos of the two of you. James sits back in his chair and looks at you, a mix of sadness and irritation on his face.

“I’m sorry but we’re gonna have to leave now. If he knows where we are then its only a mater of time before more paparazzi leeches turn up and if we don't get out of here before they arrive… well its just not a situation I want to put you in.”

You finish the last bit of your coffee and follow James as he heads to the door. Already there’s a few more people with cameras waiting outside and a small crowd of people who had been passing by and stopped to see what the happening.

“Stay close to me” James says as he puts his arm around you, lifting his jacket in the process to shield your face from the flashing of the cameras as you walked out of the shop.

The second you both stepped out of the cafe the cameras started flashing and excited shouts erupted from the crowd as people realised who the paps were here for.

“James over here!”

“A smile for the camera?”

“How’s the show going?”

“Is it true you're dating your co-star?"

“Who the girl James?”

“Are you cheating on Anastasia?”

You had no idea how many people were crowded around you now, though it sounded like a lot. While the jacket over your head did a good job of keeping you hidden, it also meant you couldn’t see where you were going. But you didn’t feel scared. You kept your eyes down fixed on your feet as you walked and trusted James as he lead you. The coffee shop was only around the corner from the theatre so you knew you wouldn’t have long to go.

You come to a stop and hear the sound of a door opening. You walk through and as it closes behind you, James removes his jacket off you. He looks at you with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” You ask and he just nods and sighs.

“I’m so sorry you got dragged into that.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just sorry you can’t even go for a coffee without people hassling you.”

“Downside of the job.” He shrugs and gives you a small sad smile. He reaches out and smooths your hair. “My jacket messed up your hair… you're still beautiful though.”

His hand moves down to gently stroke your face and stops on your cheek. He searches your eyes, as if looking for your permission before leaning to press his lips against yours.

 Part Four

Taglist: @halfofwhatisayismeaningless​ @internetgremlin-reads​

[twiceasfrustrating]

I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?

thank you

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried

A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.

Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.

Lucifer

He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.

He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.

There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.

Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.

It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.

He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.

Mammon

MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.

Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.

The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.

He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.

Leviathan

He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.

They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.

It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.

Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.

Satan

There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.

One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.

MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.

He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.

Asmodeus

MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.

Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.

The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.

“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”

It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.

He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.

Beelzebub

He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.

Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.

Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.

All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.

MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.

Belphegor

Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.

He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.

Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.

He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.

All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...

Diavolo

“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.

The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.

He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.

All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.

[screwthat]

Dear Barbara,     It’s been a while since I wrote to you. I think about you all the time, so sometimes I still make up letters in my head, and I guess, to me, that feels good enough. It’s not like you’ll read these; they’re diary entries, anyway. And you’re dead. But it felt like a good idea to write today. Do something tangible. I’ve been thinking about your grave, recently. I think because we got this massive surge of rain last week, and I saw this, like, sort of miniature mud slide on the side of the road when I was driving to school. And I was wondering, how heavy would that rain have to be to dig down into your grave and bring you back up. Would you float out from the cemetery, end up in a coffin-boat right outside the general store on Main?

Probably not, obviously. But it’s been on my mind, just how to take care of you. And when I’m not there, who is? Are there flowers at your grave? Has anyone stopped by lately? To make sure you aren’t lonely. Or just to say hello, even just in passing. God, you should’ve seen Jason. He was so... angry, about Chrissy. I couldn’t help but remember spotting him laughing at some dumb joke about the “chemical spill” that everyone still thinks killed you. I know he didn’t realize I saw him, or that I heard. No one ever does. For a while they were mean, like, genuinely, actually cruel. But they stopped after we held your funeral. I always thought that was funny. They stopped making jokes in front of me, stopped asking me out on fake dates and talking about that stupid marquee. But they didn’t care, not really. It was just how they were supposed to act. How they were meant to be.

I’m sorry I haven’t been by lately. With the “earthquake”, with everything... I saw something, a while ago. I haven’t really talked about it too much, because, you know, it just feels like, with everything going on, it feels sort of stupid. It didn’t happen. But I saw it, and it felt real. It was like my old nightmares, the visceral kinds, but more... real, somehow. It’s brought them back, in part, but instead of just being of you, it’s everything. It’s Mike. Mom. Holly. Jon. I almost tried praying the other night, which felt dumb, you know? I used to cry when I prayed, every night. I’d wait until the last moment to go to bed, knowing I’d see you. Knowing you wouldn’t say anything. Knowing how I’d wake up again. And you wouldn’t. 

I had this enormous sense of guilt about surviving, and I still do. But I think I’ve changed some perspective, at least in part. I take the guilt and I let it sort of just build up like some sort of tension, like mentos in soda or something. And I use it differently. That’s helpful, now. It works in crisis, you know, but not really in, like, day to day. I’ve tried to fix it, or bury it, because I mean, what’s the possibility of actually avoiding that feeling? Realistically. I still see you in everything. Everywhere. And that triggers the guilt, and that turns into something else, like, this weird... twisting, gnawing sort of feeling.

I couldn’t tell you if that was smart, or good, or better than whatever it was I used to be. But I’m not sad, anymore. I’ve stopped crying. I don’t dread seeing you in my dreams, or even in my nightmares. They’ve become kind of... easy. That’s not the right word, I guess, but I suppose I’ve just become numb to that sort of fear. That paranoia used to be overwhelming. I still have that coffee machine under my bed, I guess just as a precaution now. Might need it soon again, all things considered. But I don’t want you to freak, you know. Things changed. I used to feel powerless, like the people I loved being taken, being hurt, being killed, like that was all inevitable. But I don’t think like that anymore. 

I hate the person I am now, but I think, since I lived, since I did survive, I had to become this girl. I’m not scared, Barb. I’m not powerless. I’m not a coward. Not anymore. These days, I’m angry.

Always yours, N.R.W.

[dameronology]

it's no use, i just do {bucky barnes}

'if i just wanted someone to hold, then really anyone would do/i'd close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you, but it's no use, i just love you' - no use i just do, hayley williams

(a.k.a: the one where bucky needs a hug, but specifically from you)

eugh more bucky stuff from my drafts? yes. i think so. truth be told, I started writing this like 3 months ago (whenever flowers for vases came out) but it's been sat collecting dust. enjoy :-)

- jazz xx

p.s this is spoiler free!

The nights were always hardest for Bucky Barnes.

The dark always reminded him of the furthest corners of his mind; the ones holding his worst memories, skeletons collecting dust, rotting away until he forgot about them completely or forced them out with intensive therapy. Both were options that he was completely dreading - so he forced them down, forced them to the back and did everything within his power to ignore. It was easy enough during the day, when he was surrounded by his friends, occupied by work and the buzz of New York City.

Then the sun went away, and with the rising of the moon came the echoes and ghosts of Winter Soldier's past. Thanks to the likes of Netflix and YouTube, the modern world was filled with enough things to distract Bucky from the grips of his own mind. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.

And tonight was one of the nights where it didn't. Every time he shut his eyes - squeezed them shut and gripped onto his thin blankets like a flimsy anchor to the present - he got flashbacks. Reminders of the things he'd done and the people he'd hurt. They always had the same look in their eyes, whenever they flashed into his mind. He couldn't see it then, but now he could feel again, he knew it was fear. The same look he had in his eyes every time he was clamped into a chair and forced to have the last remaining ounce of his humanity wiped.

Bucky's hold-ups about his feelings for you seemed almost comical compared to the problems he dealt with then. But he could feel more now, which meant his brain was so hyperaware of every little thing he felt for you; love, attachment, fear. All things that were enough to send him into a spiral, even if the feeling of your arms around him and lips meshed against his was the first reminder of his humanity since nineteen-forty-fucking-five.

Distance had felt like the answer. Cutting you out completely and acting like he hadn't fallen into your bed every night for six months seeking comfort. It was kind of a dick move, but it was one you understood. Actually, no, it wasn't, because you didn't understand a single thing the man ever fucking did. That's probably why you'd let him go so easily - people came and went. Maybe he was just supposed to be the latter.

How was it going, you ask? Given that Bucky had elbowed his way into your apartment complex at 3AM and was pacing outside your front door - pretty fucking terribly. Normally, he wasn't that bad at resisting the urge to seek you out, but tonight had been hard. Too hard. His hands were still shaking, shirt still sticking to his back with sweat. The nightmares had been...visual, to say the least. He felt like a monster, and you were the only person he trusted enough to convince him otherwise.

"Hey, dumbass. I have a Ring doorbell - what the fuck are you doing out there?"

Bucky jumped at the sound of your voice. Technology: 1. Barnes: 0.

The front door swung open, revealing a tired-looking you. Your hair was pushed back off your face, large nightshirt swamping your body. He knew you got mad when your beauty sleep was interrupted, but you got even madder when he suffered in silence.

"I..." Bucky trailed off.

"Nightmares. I know." You stepped aside. "Come in."

You didn't push any further, or berate him for his radio silence over the last few weeks. He was grateful for that. You were the only person who didn't ask so many questions all the time. Bucky didn't mind talking, but recounting his entire life story to Sam Wilson whilst they drove to Walmart wasn't his idea of fun.

Your apartment still felt homier than his. The walls were covered in photos of you and your friends and family, and shitty little drawings done by your various, younger relatives. Your fridge had postcards and letters hung on it, and there was clutter all over the kitchen counter. The thousands of pillows piled high on your sofa were practically a safe haven. There was a soft scent of vanilla hanging in the air from all your little diffusers, making him smile slightly.

"You got new curtains?" Bucky helplessly pointed to your window.

"How very observant of you." You placed a hand on his arm as you brushed past him. "What's going on, Buck?"

"With my life, or just tonight?"

"I don't think we have time for the first one." You fell onto the sofa. "Sit."

He took a seat beside you; not on you, but close enough so that your knees were touching. "Every time I close my eyes, I remember."

"That wasn't you." You gently reminded him, reaching out to push his hair back. "Not then and not now."

"I still did it though." He held his hands out in front of him. "These are the hands that killed innocent people. This is the brain that felt no empathy or remorse."

"No." You firmly said. "Those are the hands that fought in Wakanda, for the good fight. This is the brain that comes up with the worst jokes I've ever heard and regularly forgets to buy toilet roll."

His blue eyes wavered from the floor, capturing your gaze. He suddenly fell back against you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. Everybody else went out their way to make him seem like a monster or a saint - but you? You just made him seem like a human. There wasn't a single perfect one of those. Steve Rogers probably came close, but he was a fucking terrible driver.

"I..." Bucky trailed off. He knew what he wanted to say. Just didn't have the courage to verbalise it. "I appreciate you."

"I know." You murmured, carding a hand through his hair.

Bucky had gone to therapy. He'd taken up exercise (and boxercise and jazzercise) and yoga. He'd tried those stupid fucking cleansing smoothies that his neighbour had sold him - at the time, he had yet been introduced to the idea of multilevel marketing schemes - and gone to meditation classes. None of it worked. Not for a single second.

Then you came in the picture, and he began to see colour etched into the edges of an otherwise black and white world. Where there had been nightmares and flashbacks, he'd found a peaceful night's sleep and pleasant dreams (normally of you, truth be told). The simplicity of it was what made it so complex - because he didn't understand it. Couldn't get his head around the fact that you actually, genuinely wanted to help him.

And he knew it wasn't just your touch or the softness of your skin against his. He'd tried it - sleeping with strangers and staying around the morning after to cuddle. Anything to find human contact with the emotion and the commitment; the very two components that were the secret ingredients to the two of you working so fucking nicely.

"Thank you." Bucky murmured.

"For what?"

"For just..." He glanced up at you, blue eyes holding an emotion you couldn't quite place, "treating me like everyone else. Like a normal person."

"You are a normal person." You softly smiled. "Maybe with a little more baggage, but to the right person, that won't matter."

"Does it matter to you?"

"That's a trap." You thinned your eyes at him. "But no, it doesn't."

He tightened his grip on you, the fear and anxiety draining from his soul. He knew now more than ever that the comfort didn't come from the way he was being held, or the way he was being spoken to. It was who was holding him, and who was speaking to him. You came out on top, every time.

That was why it worked.

It was you. And there was nothing he could do about it.

[thefanficmonster]

Unlucky

Part 2: ‘Lucky Me’

Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Corpse decides to email back a person who has sent him quite a few creepy stories. She never seems to run out of scary encounters of both sorts: paranormal and stranger-danger. He gets suspicious that the stories are all made up so she can grab his attention, but he’s in for a surprise.

U/N - username

Requested: No

Corpse’s POV

I’m looking through my most recent emails from fans. They are all of scary encounters they’ve allegedly experienced. By now, I’ve read so many, it’s easy to decipher which are real and which are just made up nonsense. Some, I must admit, give me chills. Big props to the people who write those, especially if they are made up. If you can make someone’s skin crawl with your twisted, frightening imagination, you have one, for lack of a better term and in the most positive way, fucked up mind.

My cursor lands on the familiar username I see almost every other week. U/N. They have been sending stories consistently for about three years now. They, and I’m saying they cause you can never be sure who’s hiding behind the username, are either the most unlucky person to walk the planet or the one with most twisted imagination and story telling skills. I’ll admit, sometimes I narrate a story just because it’s well written. Believability is not the only thing I go by, I also reward creativity. And this person, U/N, has had their spot in many of my videos in the last three years. I’m honestly hoping they are made up, or at least some of them, because not only are there too many of them, but none of them fail to give me that eerie paranoia after I read them or the chills while I read them.

Once again, they have submitted a downright terrifying story. It would be a shame if I didn’t narrate it.

It would be a shame if I....

If I never actually meet them.

This many run-ins with people with malicious intent, always getting away by some miracle, what if they one day don’t make it out alive to tell it.

My heart sinks a little at the thought. I feel like I know this person, like we’ve known each other for three years now. They know the things the whole internet knows about me, and I, along with my regular watchers, know their stories. That’s by no means enough, now that I think about it.

My next action is really out of character for me. I decide to reach out to them. My fingers fly over the buttons on my keyboard too fast for my rational side to try and stop them. Deep down, I know I’m doing the rightest wrong thing I’ve ever done. My previously sunk heart is now in its assigned spot again, beating quickly.

You don’t know what you’re doing

I maybe don’t, but knowing isn’t what’s important right now. I just wanna do it.

~ Hey, this is probably, what, your twentieth story so far. I’m just curious, how many of these are made up? By the way, your stories are amazing and I’ll probably keep narrating them even if they aren’t real. They’re just that good.

I send the email before I can talk myself out of it. I get up from my chair immediately afterwards, putting as much distance between me and the computer as possible, silently promising myself I won’t be checking my mail every five minutes.

Y/N’s POV

I anxiously refresh and refresh my email inbox, waiting for the dreaded email back from my professor. Being halfway through the college experience, I know how tough this professor’s class is and how much I suck at it. I sent him my completed assignment last night, barely making the deadline mind you, so now I’m sweating hardcore, staring my computer screen down.

After refreshing for the millionth time, I’m met with a new email which makes my heart stop for a second or two, my stomach dropping. Then I take the time to read the sender’s name, the subject and the first sentence of the email, and all the previous changes in me reverse. My heartbeat picks up speed, going faster than a galloping horse and my stomach turns, making me feel the sensation everyone calls ‘butterflies’.

Nah, man. This shit ain’t real. It can’t be.

But then again, what if it is. What if I’m about to full-on ignore my favorite youtuber because of my paranoia. Well, it’s not exactly unsupported. My life has been a shit show of unfortunate event and situations I’ve literally had to claw my way out of in order to stay alive. Now, when something of the sort happens, it’s just another weekday. However, I still wanna share these encounters. Not only because they are proof of the dangers girls have to deal with on a daily basis, but they also get narrated by one of my favorite people ever. What more can a girl ask for?

~ Listen, I’m really not looking forward to getting catfished. Please leave me alone

It’s short, not sweet, and to the point. It’s easy to understand, and it clearly states that I’m not falling for it if it’s a scam, but if it’s real....someone call 911 cause I think I’ll faint.

~ I get it, you have trust issues. But that’s understandable. From the creepy guy messaging you on all your social media. To the stalker you had from you high school, or even that teacher that turned out to not be a teacher at all and just a pedo, I see where the lack of trust is coming from. But I assure you, they only thing I wanna do is chat.

The shock and happiness overwhelm me when the reply arrives not even ten minutes later. 

Holy shit, this is him.

I start typing and then erase the typed half-sentence at least three times before receiving another email from him. From Corpse Husband. Corpse freaking Husband. How the fuck am I supposed to compose myself enough to reply to him, let alone sound cool and leave a good impression.

My hand shakes as I click the newly received email.

~ You probably don’t know what to say. Either that or you just don’t wanna talk to me. If you’re just baffled and surprised, reply with your name. If you want me to fuck off, ignore this email completely.

The smile I didn’t realize was there grows into a grin as small bursts of laughter escape me. Laughter caused by disbelief and shock. The type of laugh you let out when you score a good mark on the test you thought you completely fucked up.

~ Y/N. My name’s Y/N. 

PS: The stories are all 100% real. All happened. In the order I sent them too. And before you ask, I guess I’m just unlucky, but you are proving me wrong right now.

I don’t know where that confidence at the end came from, but I don’t care really. All that matters is that this might just actually be happening and it might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

~ Man, you’ve had it rough. Tell me, is there an easier way to access you than email. Like Insta DMs? I feel we have a lot to talk about and email is not the most convenient.

At this point, it feel so much like a fever dream that I decide to treat it as though it is. I just go with the flow.

~ Yeah, but first.....am I really not being catfished right now?

The email I receive as a reply to this message is empty of text but there’s a file attached. Not gonna lie, I am a bit hesitant to open it, but I decide that if this turns bad, I’ll just have to deal with it. In the meantime, I’ll believe it’s not a scam.

It’s an audio file: “No, Y/N, you are not being catfished.”

That voice. That god damn voice. It could convince me of anything. 

And now it’s convinced me into believing him. And finally letting out that squeal I was holding back before sending him my Instagram username.

[badfvith]

get the camera | fred weasley

Request: can i request a fred x lupin!reader where fred goes to meet remus and sirius to see that he’s a good boyfriend towards the reader and maybe remus and sirius catch fred and the reader taking a nap and cuddling? x

A/N: i am in love with a good daughter of the marauders reader so this was so fun to write 🥺also i made this take place during their 6th year but i kind of ignored the whole “sirius is dead” and “wizarding war” thing for the plot bc like ive said before, im a sucker for some fluff. anyways i hope you like it!!! 💓

warnings: none! this is teeth rotting cotton candy sunshine & rainbows style fluff

word count: 1206

“Are you nervous Freddie?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that love.” He smiled as the two of you made your way up to the door of 12 Grimmauld Place. “You’ve been talking about this night for weeks.” 

You sighed. “I know I know...I’m obviously not worried about you it’s..them. They can be quite..childish together sometimes.” 

Fred stopped walking and hopped in front of you, catching you off guard. He grabbed your gloved hands in his. “Darling you do remember who you’re dating right? I believe childish is my middle name.” He said, causing you to let out a small smile. 

“Look at me.” He continued. Your gaze shifted from the snowy ground beneath your feet to your beautiful boyfriend. His ginger hair was tucked messily underneath a hat you were sure Molly had knitted him, and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. “I’m not gonna run off when they start displaying your horrendously embarrassing baby photos.” He joked. You lightly punched him in the stomach at the comment, causing him to laugh even harder. “I’m all in with you. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” 

You gave him an emotional smile back. “Kiss me.” 

“Gladly.” He smirked as he leaned down to press a sweet but firm kiss to your lips. 

You pulled away when it actually registered that the two of you were in the middle of the sidewalk during a snowfall making out. “Alright. Let’s go.” You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the staircase.

The door was unlocked when you turned the handle, your dad and his best friend obviously awaiting your arrival. 

The long hallway was empty when you entered and the two of you began to take off your coats and many other winter layers you were sporting. “Dad?” You called out, signaling your arrival. 

A few seconds later two familiar faces popped out of the kitchen and suddenly the house was full of life. 

“There’s my girl!” Lupin smiled, pulling you in for a hug. As the two of you embraced, Fred hung up your coats. “And Mr. Weasley. Long time no see.” He continued. 

“Good to see you again Professor.” Fred smiled, referencing the fact that your dad was indeed both of your defense against the dark arts professor a few years prior, before the two of you started dating. 

“Ah come now Fred there’s no need for that. Call me Remus.” He chuckled. 

“I don’t suppose you’re going to call me Professor too?” Sirius piped up, causing you to burst out laughing. 

“Sirius the only thing you’re professional at is not cleaning up after yourself. Every time I come over I end up having to do your dishes.” Remus replied. 

“All the more reason to keep inviting him over huh?” Sirius said and all of you laughed. He finally looked over at you with open arms. “(y/n). Come here sweetheart.” You went over to hug him while Fred and Remus began making their way to the kitchen. 

“So he’s treating you right then?” Sirius asked after a moment. 

“Better than I could possibly put into words.” You beamed. 

“Good.” 

The two of you then joined your dad and boyfriend in the kitchen, where Remus was fixing dinner. You all fell into easy conversation, and of course it took the turn you were absolutely dreading when Remus pulled out a worn out album you knew you to be filled with photos of you from your childhood. 

“Oh Merlin...” You groaned and banged your head dramatically against the cabinet you were standing in front of. Fred was getting far too much enjoyment from this and you wished you had Harry’s invisibility cloak right about then. 

“Now this. This might just be the greatest photo in existence love.” Fred stated a few minutes later. Your eyes shot open when you saw him holding up a photo of you flopped over on the ground crying and looking miserable. 

“IS IT DINNER TIME YET?” You yelled over the three others in the kitchen laughing hysterically at your tantrum that was so wonderfully captured in the form of a moving image.

“Almost.” Your dad said when he finally caught his breath. “Sirius can I trust you and maybe Fred to get the dishes? I want to talk to (y/n) for a minute.” 

“Go ahead. We won’t burn the house down right Weasley?” Sirius asked. 

“Definitely not. We’re very trustworthy.” Fred laughed. You smiled at his playfulness before you followed your dad into the living room. 

“What’s up?” You asked and sat down on the couch. 

“You remember how nervous I was when you told me you both were together?”

“Of course. Though I knew you’d be nervous about anyone I ever started dating.” You laughed. 

Remus smiled and reached out to grab your hand. “Well I just want you to know that I’m not nervous anymore. He’s great.” 

A smile made its way across your entire face at his words. “Thank you.” You whispered. “I always told you he’s the best.” 

“You did.” He nodded. “Just be careful of losing him to that one though...” He nodded in the direction of the kitchen so you knew he was talking about Sirius. “Them two have the same ridiculous sense of humor.” 

You laughed at his statement. “Yeah I’ll watch out for that.” 

The two of you wrapped up your conversation and made your way to the dining room. The utensils were definitely not in the correct spots and none of the dishes matched, but no one seemed to mind at all because luckily the house was still standing. 

After dinner was over, you and Fred made your way to the couch while your dad and Sirius were cleaning up. 

He sat down on the corner cushion and you curled up next to him, summoning the blanket draped on the chair next to you onto your lap using “accio.” Your head was on Fred’s chest as he gently stroked your hair. 

“They love you.” You said quietly after a few minutes. 

“Well that’s good isn’t it? Because they also love you and given the choice I have a feeling they'd choose you over me.” 

You laughed. “Stop it! I really think Sirius might like you more than me.” 

Fred laughed this time and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. You yawned and felt your eyes begin to close the longer you stayed in this position. You’ve never felt more content than in this moment, in the arms of the best boyfriend in the world, under the roof of the best almost-dad and real dad in the world. 

~

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up slightly after hearing some shuffling around you, but it must have been late because it was completely dark outside now. The only light came from a lamp on the other side of the room. You felt the steady rise and fall of Fred’s chest underneath your head, signifying that he was sleeping as well. 

You were in and out of sleepy consciousness for the next few minutes but you were awake enough to process a few sentences. 

“Sirius! Get the camera. This one’s going in the album.” 

tags:

@tinylumpiaa​ @kashishwrites @lateautumn @asksiriusblacvk​ 

[ptergwen]

play the game

w/c: 2.2k

summary: an interview question catches you off guard

a/n: this is kinda random but i wanted to write something just fun n cute with actress!reader so this is what we got enjoy everyoneee

-

“ooh, these are always fun,” tom murmurs to you. he pushes a bucket of questions to the middle of the table. you turn it towards yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.

you’re at buzzfeed promoting the next spider-man. it’s just you and tom for this one. zendaya and jacob are doing their own interview in the room next to yours. you’re usually paired with the two of them, but tom joins your group sometimes. you find yourself much more intimidated by him than the camera whenever he does. not because he scares you. you’ve actually become close friends over filming.

it’s because you never know what he’s going to say. tom is a flirty guy by nature, and he’ll play it up even more if he has an audience. he loves to give them a good laugh. spark a few rumors maybe, only to get people talking about the movie. the idea itself isn’t half bad. the effect it has on you is what you worry about.

you’ve had a pretty big crush on him that started the same time your friendship did. in your defense, how could you get to know him and not fall? he’s one of the most genuine people on earth, he calls you cute british pet names, he makes you laugh on set during a stressful take. he’s just so charming. he charmed you, after all.

so much as a wink at you and your cheeks would be burning. the last thing you need is for the whole world to see that. it’s bad enough he would, too. you’re hoping he keeps the playfulness at minimum for your interview. with you being the only person he has to bounce off of this time, you’re not sure he will.

“i feel like the fans always ask better questions than interviewers,” tom jokes and takes a slip of paper out of the bucket. he reads it to himself with a snort. “what does it say?” you peek over his shoulder. he folds it again before you can see. a smirk pulls at his lips. “you’ll find out.” “you’re not even supposed to look at them yet,” you huff, reaching to grab the paper. tom drops it back into the bucket.

looking off to the side, he breathes a laugh out of his nose. he’s so annoying about keeping secrets. you push at his shoulder with a smug smile. “can you ever just, like, behave?” “around you? no, i can’t,” tom teases, the hint of a smirk still on his face. this is exactly what you were dreading. what’s worse is you haven’t even started the interview. thank god the cameraman gets your attention.

“all ready. you two start whenever you want.” he gives you a thumbs up from behind the camera. tom scoots closer to you in his chair. his knee is touching yours. it’s such a childish thing to care about, but your heart speeds up. “thanks, man. i think we’re good.” he glances at you to make sure. “yeah?” “yeah, we can start.” your voice is higher than usual, which only happens when you’re nervous. you clear your throat.

the little light on the camera turns red. that means you’re recording. tom beams into it, sounding cheery as ever when he introduces himself. “hey everyone, i’m tom holland.” he holds out a hand to present you. you can’t help but smile at his antics. “i’m y/n y/l/n. we’re gonna be answering some questions you guys sent in.”

“there are a few prompts in here, too,” tom adds, eyes meeting yours for a second. “we have to act them out. let’s get into it.” you raise your eyebrows at the camera. spinning the bucket in his hands, he holds it out to you. “ladies first.” “when he has manners,” you deadpan, getting a giggle out of tom. his stupid adorable laugh that gives you butterflies. holding back a smile, you pull out a paper slip.

“tell us about gwen stacy and peter’s relationship in the movie,” you read off and push the paper to the other end of the table. “i mean, it’s not a relationship. it’s a new friendship,” you explain. tom nods in agreement. “yeah. peter is still after mj in this film.” squinting into the camera, you try to think of a description that won’t spoil you being spider-gwen.

tom digs into the bucket for the next question, but keeps his eyes on you. you hold up a finger when you get it. “my gwen is with spider-man more than peter. that’s all i’m gonna say.” “nice. very smooth,” he teases and unfolds the paper. “how hard was it to do all your stunts?” you shoot him a knowing look. there were a few the two of you had to do together.

they weren’t anything major because you’re not trained like tom is. a lot of the time, you only watched him do insane flips and leaps before simply entering the scene. he’d come back to your trailer after and complain about how sore he was while laying his head on your shoulder or some other part of your body. stunt days were exhausting.

“you know, i’ll be honest. they were awful.” tom shakes his head with wide eyes. you let out a quiet laugh. “not because they were bad or anything. the stunts look amazing. but, they really hurt.” he tosses the piece of paper at the one you just answered to create a pile. “the amount of ice you had to put on your body,” you giggle to him, tom joining in your laughter. he sighs. “i raided the freezer in your trailer every day.”

grinning at the memories, you reach into the bucket for your next question. you’re still smiling when you read it. “this one’s a prompt. it says to do an impression of each other.” tom eagerly sits up in his chair. his leg brushes yours again in the process. you catch your lip between your teeth. “easy. i’ll go first.” he hasn’t started, but you roll your eyes.

“we’ll all be watching a movie and she’s like,” he switches to his american girl accent before continuing. “isn’t that guy so hot? he’s literally so hot, guys. how do you not see it?” your mouth dropped open, you bump his knee under the table. “oh my god, what?” “and it’s always the most basic looking person, too,” he goes on, pressing his lips together in shame for you. you make the same face.

“someone sounds a little jealous.” “it’s not me,” tom scoffs, still playfully making fun of you. you narrow your eyes at him. “ok, my turn.” he’s biting back a smile while you get yourself ready. “ello, love,” you start in an exaggerated british accent. he closes his eyes in defeat. “i love golf. i’m like an old man, innit? i fu-“ you put a hand over your mouth in the same way he does. “i forgot i can’t swear.” tom claps slowly for you.

“bravo, y/n. you didn’t miss a thing, love.” he emphasizes the last word. there goes one of his infamous pet names. he’s just repeating what you said, but it still makes your heart clench. your favorite is when he calls you darling. it sounds so perfect falling from his lips. that being said, you wouldn’t have been able to control your reaction if he called you it right now.

you shrug your shoulder and give him a cheesy grin. “i know i didn’t.” “right, next question.” tom grabs the bucket back from you with a pretend glare. he gasps before reading it out loud. “who’s your favorite cast mate? that’s wicked!” you move your head forward dramatically. “that’s not fair!”

tom drums his fingers on the table. “jeez, you guys are ruthless. i’ll say y/n because she’s right next to me.” you don’t miss a beat. “um, i’m saying zendaya.” you nod at the camera, tom pouting. “love you, z.” “i should change my answer to jacob, then,” he mutters childishly. exhaling, you pull out the next question. there are only two left after this.

“or maybe marisa,” tom keeps throwing names out. “are you done yet?” you ask like you’re his mom. he is acting like a kid, to be fair. “no.” “will you be done if i say you’re my favorite?” he perks up. “yes.” looking him in the eyes, you put your free hand on his arm. “tom, you’re my favorite cast mate.” “thank you.” his sarcastic tone matches yours. he tilts your chin up with the tips of his fingers. “my love.”

you’re quick to turn your head before you let yourself lean into his touch. you’d never recover. for one thing, you’ll think about it too much. another, it would give tom something to tease you about.

pretending to be disgusted, you unfold the paper. your expression relaxes when you look over the question. it’s kind of sweet. “what was your favorite scene to film together?” “all of them,” tom answers right away. “that’s a cheat answer,” you laugh out. he shrugs and looks down at the question. “i’m being serious. i really loved working with you.” his eyes meet yours. “every second of it.”

he’s being genuine. it’s probably to make up for tormenting you this entire interview. all you know is, the fans will definitely start talking. you find it nice either way. “aw, tom,” you coo, him nodding his head. “what was yours?” you’ve never thought about it. you shared so many special memories while making the movie. but, there is one that sticks out to you.

“our last scene. it was a really, like, emotional day because we were wrapping.” tom already knows what you’re going to say next. his lips curl into a smile. “i cried before we started shooting it, so he kept hugging me and said i’d ruin my makeup.” you rest your head on his shoulder for a few seconds, returning the smile. his arm slings around your waist.

“yeah, i felt so bad. your crying face just breaks my heart,” tom tells you with a head shake. you lift yourself off of him and wiggle your eyebrows. “that’s what every actor wants to hear.” “you’re ridiculous. do the last question.” he taps the bucket twice. he’s still holding your waist. “isn’t it your turn?” “it’s the one i read earlier. you read it now.” eyebrows knitted together, you pick out the slip. it’s a prompt.

this has to be a joke. no one in their right mind would have you do this on camera. what kind of interview would this be? blinking a few times, you hold it closer to your face. “it... it says to kiss each other.” you crumple the piece of paper up, face still scrunched in confusion. buzzfeed probably decided to mess with you two. “are we actually supposed to?”

“yep. a fan sent it in,” the cameraman interjects. you look at tom in a panic. he was all smiley about this earlier. now, he’s taking it seriously. “why would we...” you’re too flustered to finish your sentence. tom squeezes your waist. “it’s what the people want. i want it, too.” you can feel your stomach drop. “would’ve said something if i didn’t. do you?”

of course you do. for the past year or so, you’ve been craving to taste that mint chapstick he’s constantly applying. you can’t believe it’s finally going to happen in front of millions of people. technically eight people right now, but the whole world eventually. you’re afraid he’s only going through with it for the movie promotion. for a good thumbnail.

“are you only doing this for promo?” you whisper so the camera doesn’t pick it up. you need his real answer. “never. the promo just gives me an excuse.” his eyes dart from yours to your lips. he inches his face closer. you gulp. “can i kiss you?” he asks lowly. “mhm,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut.

his lips brush yours before he closes his eyes. he kisses you softly, his other arm wrapping around you. your hands go to his shoulders when you kiss back. it’s everything you’ve been needing, been dreaming of for so long now. he tastes even better than you expected. tom breaks the kiss first. a grin instantly spreads across his face. “we’ll continue this later,” he says only to you.

your lips and whole body feel tingly. you give him a goofy smile in return, looking at the camera over your shoulder. “thanks to whoever sent that one in. thank you so much.” you laugh in disbelief. tom turns and faces forward. “i think this is a good place to wrap things up,” he chuckles. “thanks for watching! we hope you enjoyed!” you wave. tom points at the camera. “see us again in theaters next week, if you did.”

the camera clicks off, and everyone else in the room starts chatting. you can’t imagine the headlines that are going to come out about you two. at the same time, you don’t care. you’re too happy. you move your arms up to wind around his neck. tom sighs in content. “i like you, too. in case you couldn’t tell.” he never stops finding ways to shock you. “how did you know i like you?” you groan.

“from one actor to another, you’re not good at hiding it.”

[thesolferino]

⤷ note: apologies for losing your request, anon, but thank you for requesting! this is my first time writing a full fic in second person, so bear with me, and i hope this is what you were looking for <3

The Great American Bake Off

pairing: corpse husband x gn!reader

word count: 3.6k

genre: fluff

summary: you’ve been jealous of rae and her closeness with your boyfriend since the dawn of time, but things change and friendships are made once she comes over for one hell of a cooking video.

Corpse, among many other things, was a man many wished to have.

It’s the truth; even if he didn’t have a YouTube channel through which millions kept up with everything from horror stories to Among Us gameplays, people would still turn heads and whisper whenever he spoke - that attention more than multiplied when he started blowing up and his social media presence grew.

With growth come numbers, and there are always people behind said numbers. Through them, Corpse makes wonderful friends - through them, you had met him, too. All the way back, during his horror narration days, you had grown to like him - really, who wouldn’t?

A DM you once sent after a few drinks, when you claimed to your friends you’d get the “deep-voiced man of your dreams” you often talked about and they, in turn, challenged you to message him, was nothing short of a joke and the idea of him responding was merely a pipe dream. What you hadn’t expected, however, was a response, which wrecked your brain at noon the next day, where your head throbbed with embarrassment, guilt, pride, happiness, a melt of hatred and gratefulness for your friends, panic and the remains of alcohol that tugged at every part of your skull.

It had turned out to be more than a great idea, though, because for the next few weeks you were constantly talking. You learned so much more than he let on in videos, and during late night calls you found out everything from his favorite clothing brand to his favorite color to his thoughts about his own mortality and then back to his favorite cereal. Audio calls and short voice messages turned into hours long FaceTimes that led you from friends to something more. And after a year or so of dating, you packed your bags and made it to sunny San Diego, ready to lay in his arms and sweat bullets.

Safe to say Corpse’s social media presence had its good sides. However, with all good things come bad things too, and you weren’t sure if the bad things were bad at all or you were simply too jealous.

Corpse made wonderful friends thanks to his YouTube channel. He met people he could confide in, meet, people he could talk to about his worst problems, people who would listen - he met people he could have fun with, with who he could forget all about the real world and his own issues, and simply laugh his heart away, play games until the late hours of the night.

If he had to name his closest ones, they would have to be Dave, Loey, maybe Mykie, possibly Jack, and Rae. And that is exactly where the root of the problem stood.

Rae is beautiful, and everyone who denies it must be either dumb or blind. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and funny, and kind, and smart, in a way that made you want to rip your hair out. You wanted to hate her so bad, because the jealousy ate away at you like a damn disease, but you couldn’t, because she was perfect Rae, and as much as you hated the fact she seemed to be perfect inside out, you just couldn’t hate her as her. It was impossible, you concluded.

You convinced yourself you weren’t jealous every time you heard him yelling or laughing at her from his office room - or at least you attempted to do so. Your lunch would turn sour and end up forgotten because you’d be way too focused on listening in on what he was doing and trying to make out what she was saying to even eat at the same pace you previously were. Jealousy ate away at you, no matter if you admitted it to yourself or not.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Corpse, of course. On one late night when you couldn’t sleep and neither could he, as per usual, you turned on a random comedy that you half-heartedly paid attention to, his fingers combing through the knots in your hair peacefully and the slow pace of the movie lulling you to sleep slowly. That is, before his phone rang and lit the mostly dark room. You managed to sneak a glance at the notification before he had, and the familiar bitterness seeped between your ribs as always upon seeing the name displayed at the top of the message, more than awake now.

You visibly stiffened when he laughed at the message and typed something back, shifting your head in his lap as some subconscious attempt at getting him to pay attention to you instead. He put his phone down and you huffed, eyes locked on the TV screen as you pretended to be extremely absorbed in the movie even though you weren’t quite sure of the difference between the protagonist and antagonist anymore. His hands didn’t return to your hair, and that somehow made you even more annoyed.

“What’s up?” Corpse quietly spoke up, barely over the volume over the already quiet movie.

“Nothing.” You said, quicker than you wanted to, and you bit your tongue in cringe when you realised it was an awful lie. Corpse seemed to think the same.

“That’s bullshit. Seriously, what’s wrong?” He asked, and was met with pure silence. In reality, you were hoping he’d simply never realise you were somewhat jealous, because you knew you were being stupid and unreasonable, but you couldn’t help wanting him all to yourself. Admitting it out loud made it so much more real, and so much more embarrassing that you would rather bury yourself alive than admit to being jealous of Rae, of all people.

After a few seconds of silence, save the laughter of characters on screen, he spoke again.

“Are you jealous?” The hint of a teasing tone in his voice made you want to rip your hair out of your skull. Was it really that damn hard to believe that yes, you were jealous of an extremely close friend of his? Was it a crime?

The clenching of your jaw seemed to give Corpse enough of a response, and his hands returned to running themselves through your hair as he giggled to himself. 

“What’s so damn funny?” You borderline spat, causing his movements to halt for a second before continuing with even louder laughter.

“I don’t know, just the idea of you being jealous of Rae is so funny. I’ve noticed the way you roll your eyes whenever I text her in front of you. You’re not exactly sneaky, you know?” His words made blood rush straight to your face, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How long has he known this for?

“Sorry. I don’t…” you exhaled and attempted to smile. “I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m so jealous nowadays. I don’t even know why.”

“There’s enough of me to share with everyone, no worries baby.” he replied, teasing tone still yet to dissipate as you slap his knee in mock offense and he starts wheezing.

“Absolutely not! Fucking excuse you, I’m not sharing with anyone!” you gaped at him as he kept laughing.

That was the end of it - or at least Corpse thought so. Needless to say, he was wrong.

Your mood would instantly turn sour whenever he’d laugh at one of her messages, and you attempted to push down every eye roll whenever he’d sit on his phone, between your legs, back turned to you so you could see everything, and open Rae’s DMs again. Sometimes you managed, sometimes you couldn’t help it, but you did your best to do it whenever he wasn’t looking. Because you truly knew you were being unreasonable, especially whenever you have to relay situations like how he had to postpone a date one time because Rae asked him to play Rust for a bit longer and you almost ripped all your hair out of your skull in frustration back to your best friend who just turned Rae and Corpse into the villains in the situation because that’s what best friends are supposed to do.

Not like he was going out of his way to talk to her a concerning amount, they mostly talked in groupchats and on streams and that was only a few times weekly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the green monster growing stronger in you every day, fed by every laugh she got out of him.

The green monster fucking loved it when Corpse excitedly announced to you that he’s finally meeting his friends for the first time, and by friends meaning Rae, Sykkuno and Karl. You, however… were far from impressed.

He paced around the room in excitement, a mix of obvious anxiety and joy evident on his face, and he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie with shaky hands as he very proudly announced that he would be the second tallest person in the room through a blinding, pearly grin, and seeing him so electrified couldn’t help but make you shut your jealous thoughts up, even if just for a little bit, and mirror his grin back to him.

What did, however, make you as anxious as him was when he announced they’d a) be coming to your shared apartment and b) making a cooking video - it sent you into a panicked mom mode as you dusted every corner of every room and vacuumed everything from the kitchen to the balcony and Corpse did nothing but record you as you anxiously rambled and laugh at you from his place on your bed.

When the dreaded Saturday finally came, and the first person to arrive, Sykkuno, rang your doorbell, you squeezed Corpse’s hand to stop him from nervously toying with his rings and opened the door, and you greeted the man like he was your own brother and not a person you’d seen probably a total of three times through the computer screen and someone who’s seen you maybe two times, from the pictures Corpse sent him, in your best attempt to make both of them more comfortable. It actually kind of worked - turns out Sykkuno is a pretty affectionate guy, too, and a conversation started as soon as he stepped in. Corpse gave you a look when you pulled away from Sykkuno’s half-hug, and you almost laughed out loud at the irony when his phone lit up with a notification from Rae announcing she was almost there at that exact moment.

She had kept true to her word; ten minutes or so later, another ring was heard and you gestured to Corpse to open it this time as you gave Sykkuno his cup of water and resisted any and every urge to roll your eyes or do something otherwise bitchy and stupid. Corpse did as told, and you watched them hug and listened to Rae squeal in excitement through the open door of the living room and decided to plaster a smile on your face for as long as you could muster before you remove yourself from the situation when they start filming.

Unfortunately for you, the first person she locked eyes with was exactly you, and they lit up an even prettier brown (if that was even possible) as she beelined to you and you barely got a greeting out before she engulfed you in a large hug, arms wrapping around your neck as she swayed both of you side to side.

“Oh my God, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Rae cheered into your ear before she finally pulled back, before shooting an infectious grin at you that you couldn’t help but return back.

“All good things, I hope.” you chuckled as she moved to greeting Sykkuno, and nodded her head with an enthusiastic giggle of her own. You eyed Corpse for a second who simply leaned against the door frame, watching the whole thing unfold with somewhat of a proud smile on his face, before Rae turned back to you and your attention was on her again.

“Of course! Corpse is very much a simp for you, you know that?” She said and both you and Corpse laughed, especially him, who nodded his head in agreement as she sat back down, still beaming at you.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that.” you respond before turning back to Corpse. “Where’s Karl at?”

“He’ll be here in half an hour or so, he only landed recently.” he said. You nodded and moved to sit on a nearby chair to leave space for the guests on the couch.

Karl ended up arriving in twenty minutes and apprised everyone of the information that “his taxi driver is a psycho that, apparently, doesn’t fear stop signs or the police” before setting up the camera in your kitchen and tried his best to attach lapel mics on everybody (admittedly, it took way longer than it should’ve, but he eventually managed and that counted as a win in his book). You reluctantly agreed to be the judge of the finished product when they’re done cooking, and Karl was there for the purposes of being a cameraman and making jokes off screen so he agreed too, albeit way more enthusiastically than you.

The two of you sat behind the camera as the three of them lined up, Corpse wearing a mask and his signature eyepatch (that he didn’t really need, but those two did their job in preserving his privacy) and introduced what they were doing. Corpse was obviously very anxious, hands fidgeting constantly and shivering like a dog after a bath despite the hoodie he was wearing in 100 degree weather because of the shower of sweat that was now drying on his body, and that was partly why you were there, supportive smiles, encouraging cheers and all.

They were making Mexican ground beef tacos, and despite knowing Corpse can barely make a sandwich without setting at least two dishes on fire, you still cheered him on proudly and repeated he was part Mexican himself roughly 5 times a minute, claiming he was going to kill it.

“Kill it? More like kill one of us- CORPSE watch what you’re doing with that fucking knife! You’re proving my point!” Rae yelled at him as he giggled in delight, watching the woman gape at him in pure horror and Sykkuno watch his movements completely entranced as he played with the knife in his hands.

“You’re just mad that he’s going to make tacos fifty times better than you.” you said to Rae, chewing down on some M&Ms that Karl and you shared (both of you decided on a genius plan - you’re going to eat the whole bag before they’re done with cooking so you can claim you’re full and therefore can’t eat the atrocity that will most likely be the tacos).

“Don’t gas me up like that, Y/N, you are well aware I’m shit at cooking. Expect absolutely nothing from me.” he replied over the sizzling of the meat on the pan, throwing a whole spoonful of chili powder into it, earning loud yelling and scolding from your side and loud laughter from Rae.

“HALF A TEASPOON! Half a teaspoon, how have you not remembered this already?! We’ve made tacos a million times now, oh my God, you’re actually stupid.” you yelled at him, arms flailing in the direction of the seasoning to emphasise your ‘half a teaspoon’ point as Rae doubled over in laughter and Sykkuno looked into the pan with a concerned and somewhat afraid look. Just as he peeked in, the overwhelming smell of chili powder started biting away at his eyes, and he jumped away with a yelp.

“Jesus, Corpse!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes with his forearm as the whole room burst into laughter and Corpse suspiciously inspected his beef.

“What were you saying about your ‘Mexican king’, Y/N?” Rae asked, pulling out a few tortillas and putting them on the table. You huffed, grabbing another handful of M&Ms.

“Giving him up to God. He’s the only one who can help, at this point.” you said. She giggled in response and Corpse let out some sort of protesting sound and waved his knife around in complaint. “I don’t know who this man is. He broke into my kitchen and now I’m here.”

“Hey, I pay half of your rent!” he said, and you were about to reply but Rae dropped her meat into a pan full of overheated oil, and a loud hiss and some sort of a scream overtook the room as a cloud of steam shot into the air and she frantically looked around for the wooden spoon so the meat wouldn’t stick to the pan. You simply sat and laughed, eating the candy like it was popcorn and you were watching a shitty cooking show - it wasn’t that far from reality, really.

“Um, I just realised I don’t make many tacos, actually.” she said as she helplessly stirred the meat, turning to you with pleading eyes. “What seasoning even goes into this? Y/N, will you help me? Let’s team up against Corpse!”

You tilted your head in thought, but before you could even speak, Corpse spoke up.

“That’s not fucking fair, that’s-that’s against the rules.” he turned to you. “You won’t betray me, right?”

You laughed at him, adjusting in your seat. “I gave up on you ever since you added, like, 3 kilos of seasoning into the meat for no reason.” then you turned to Rae. “Sure, let’s do it, babe.”

Their loud yelling immediately started mixing, Rae’s cheers contrasting Corpse’s protesting. She stuck her tongue out at him meanwhile Corpse shot her the middle finger, and she turned back to you with a grin.

“Alright, what do I put in?”

Roughly twenty unnecessary and extremely long minutes later, the tacos were done, two each for each of them. Rae’s looked the best - probably because you guided her through the whole thing - next to Sykkuno’s, whose you were genuinely intrigued to try. While Corpse was arguing with Rae, he burned roughly half of his already ruined beef, and Karl made the very nice observation that it looked like a bird shat in a tortilla, which you proclaimed as the highlight of the video.

Since you and Karl claimed you were full, the three of them simply swapped tacos between each other as to be unbiased, and the two of you watched in amused suspense. You were actually quite interested to see what the end results were - you were first anxious and quite annoyed you even had to participate in the first place, because it meant losing your mind from jealousy, watching Corpse and Rae giggle and act all domestic while cooking, but jealousy simply dissipated somewhere half through the video as you watched the three argue if cheddar cheese belonged on tacos or not and Rae laugh at every stupid joke you cracked. Now, you sat, fully immersed as you stared at Sykkuno’s face; the poor guy ended up with the misfortune of having to try Corpse’s taco first.

“Zoom in, zoom in!” you whispered into Karl’s ear who complied and zoomed into Sykkuno’s face. He bit into the taco, chewing for a second before his face twisted in disgust and you began wheezing when he grabbed a tissue and spit it out, immediately grabbing his glass of water. Rae laughed at him as well, mouth full of his one, which she claimed she actually liked but it wasn’t as good as the “Y/NRae-co” as she proudly called it. Corpse silently ate Rae’s taco and refused to give a review on it because he was upset he got defeated, but the fact that he scarfed down the whole thing in a minute or so was enough of a review.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Corpse exclaimed when he saw Sykkuno’s bite in the tissue, grabbing the second taco he made and biting down on it. The whole room burst into laughter when he roughly swallowed, tears obvious in the one eye that showed, because of the overly spicy beef.

“What are you motherfuckers laughing at? It’s not that bad, I stand by tacorpse.”

“Tacorpse is actually genius. The one good thing you came up with during the entirety of this video.” Rae said and Corpse mumbled a fuck you in response.

“Well, I think we can all agree that me and Y/N’s taco was clearly the best.” she said, clasping her hands together.

“I actually think mine was better.” Sykkuno said, to which she pushed his plate out of the frame.

“Nobody asked you anything.”

“Don’t bully Sykkuno, I’ll fucking kick you out.”

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure Y/N would kick you out before they’d let you kick me!” Rae said, accusingly pointing her taco in Corpse’s direction.

“Alright, let’s wrap up the video.” Karl laughed behind the camera, and the three of them all turned to properly face it and end the video.

“Thank you all so much for watching, this has been an… interesting video, to say the least. Uh, thank you to Karl for filming this whole disaster, thank you to Corpse,” Rae gestured in his direction, “for lending us his kitchen, thank you to Sykkuno for probably getting us more views on this video, and also a big thank you to Y/N, Corpse’s better half for making this video way more interesting and helping me make probably, like, the best taco I’ve ever made.” she grinned and you shoved a peace sign in front of the camera.

“If you liked this video, check out Sykkuno and Corpse’s channels, they will be linked down below, and please click like and subscribe to support the channel! Again, thank you all for watching, see you later, bye!” she finished, and with that, Karl turned the camera off.

Silence engulfed the room. You sighed.

“Alright, who’s gonna clean this shit up?”

[softer-ua]

I was thinking about how Katsuki has never seen Deku in the hospital before and how Deku might be surprised to see him, and how that would probably hurt Katsukis feelings.

Then I decided to be self-indulgent and write the scene out. It was supposed to be short but I got super self-indulgent, because I like making Katsuki feel and making it hurt 🥰

I don’t wanna be unexpected

Deku carefully cracks open his eyes slowly taking in a dark unfamiliar ceiling and the heavy aching of his limbs, he isn’t fully cast anymore but a routine stiffness that tells him he had been.

 He’s grown used to this routine over the last year, he doesn’t even bother trying to sit up. Instead, he just scans the room the best he can from his semi-horizontal position. 

Turning his head to the left he sees an empty visiting chair and a small window letting in the city’s lights. It’s the only light the room has so it must be well into the middle of the night. 

Continuing to the right he sees a small nightstand filled with get-well cards and gifts. It brings a smile to his cracked lips, he’d most certainly cry if his body had the water to spare. 

If you told Deku a year ago that he’d get into UA he might have believed you, but never in a million years would he believe you if you told him he was on friendly terms with at least 1/3 of all of UA’s hero course students. 

Sometimes that felt like the most unbelievable part of everything. Having his idol pass his legacy to him to beat an ancient evil? Crazy but within the realm of his imagination. 

Making close friends with half his class and being at a minimum a positive acquaintance to most of his peers? It was almost unthinkable for a kid who’d spent his whole life being scorned and left out by even his teachers. 

Choked up by his feelings, Deku tries to swallow the painful lump forming in his throat. He’s worried so many people and let them down by getting hospitalized yet again. 

He’s too dehydrated to cry but he can’t help the dry cracked warble that escapes him. It takes a concentrated effort to clear his throat and not break down completely. It wouldn’t be cathartic at this moment, just painful. 

A small groan from the foot of his bed pulls his attention away from reading what he could of the cards. 

What he sees doesn’t instantly register with his groggy mind. That’s not uncommon, usually, the longer he’s out the more disoriented he is upon waking, his body might have made a full recovery but the brain takes longer to re-engage with its surroundings. 

Deku doesn’t expect to see Kacchan of all people in his hospital room at all, let alone when he first wakes up in the dead of night, but the blonde tuft of hair sticking up from a familiar orange hoodie turned makeshift pillow cradled in well-toned arms makes the figure resting over the edge of his hospital bed unmistakable 

Deku would know that pale face pinched into a grimace anywhere. 

It adds to the layer of confusion he’s grown used to as part of waking up hospitalized. It also adds a layer of dread and an equal amount of relief. Things must be pretty bad if Kacchan is here, but Kacchan is here and he looks completely whole. It’s a best worst-case scenario. 

Kacchan lets out a small grunt as he pushes his face deeper into orange cotton. Deku’s heart squeezes at the sight of the blonde's obvious discomfort. 

Kacchan should be at home sleeping in a real bed, not hunched over in a visitor chair clutching a hoodie for a pillow. 

Without thinking Deku calls out “Kacchan?”, his voice just above a whisper, a selfish part of him hopes Kacchan will stay asleep a little longer. That he’ll stay where Deku can see him and knows he’s okay. But he knows it’s selfish. So he calls again a little louder, his voice hoarse and scratchy from lack of use. 

The blonde shoots up, eyes near frantic as he looks around before red irises settle their sites on him with more concern than Deku ever remembers seeing on Kacchan. Well, at least outside a fight and directed at him.

He hopes they're not about to fight, but when it comes to Kacchans temperament… well he’d be a fool to dismiss the possibility of it. 

For a moment all Kacchan does is stare at him. It makes something cold and heavy settle in his stomach. Nothing scares Kacchan, and yet he looks completely shaken. 

“Deku? Are you really awake this time?” Katsuki tries to not make his whisper sound as desperate as he feels. There’s no point getting worked up over another dream or worse a still drug-addled Deku, but this Deku seems to recognize him for the first time, and although tired his green eyes shined with a level of coherency that’s been missing for a few days now.

Katsukis’s chest grew tight seeing it. It paled in comparison to the glimmer of brilliance that usually shone in those beautiful emeralds, but when compared to the unfocused glazed look he had been sporting the last few days? Well, Katsuki thought he just might collapse with relief. 

This is what he’d been waiting for, Deku’s been physically healed for at least 2 days now but consciously he’s been pretty touch and go. “Uh, I think so?” That’s definitely not the kinda question Deku had been expecting, but he has his own question he wants to get to before they get into that. 

Pushing through the dry burning in his throat Deku rattled off the most pressing questions. “How are you feeling? Is everyone okay? Did LOV getaway? What’s going on?” 

Annoyance flashes in Katsukis’s eyes before quieting with acceptance, of course, the nerd wants to know how everyone else is and the current status. Katsuki wanted the same when he first woke up, they were heroes in training, after all. Their own lives would always take a backseat to their self-appointed responsibilities. 

“Hold on. You sound like sh– not good.” Katsuki got up and got the nerd a cup of water and then helped him sit upright, trying to decide on what to tell him. Completely missing the way Deku flushed at his uncharacteristic gentleness. 

Katsuki decided on the bare minimum. 

“I don’t wanna talk about that sh- not good fight right now. All you need to know is that everyone is fine. You’re the only one still layed up, worrying everyone half to death. You’ve been out for almost a week, you woke up a few times but you were all loopy calling people by the wrong names.” 

Calling him by the wrong name. Deku must have said an incoherent hello to half the class only sometimes guessing who he was speaking to correctly or just talking to no one at all before immediately falling back asleep. Deku had of course asked about him more than a few times but not once did the bastard see him sitting right in front of him. 

It had taken every ounce of willpower Katsuki possessed to not throttle him, but he’d promised All Might that for the sake of Auntie Inko he wouldn’t upset the nerd. 

The pride Katsuki had just momentarily taken in thinking to get Deku water, the gentleness he took help the dweeb sit up, and managing not to swear when recounting the transgressions to boot turned ashen when he saw the way Deku shied away with guilt. 

A stubborn part of him felt righteous and believed Deku should feel guilty, a larger part felt a sense of failure in breaking his promise to All Might literally the first time he actually spoke to Deku. 

“Wait, if everyone else is okay what are you doing here?” Deku feels himself relaxing despite his guilt, contentment settling in the spaces where trepidation previously roosted, he trusted Kacchan to be honest. 

If he says everything’s fine then it is, but the lack of pressing news makes Kacchan passed out at the end of his bed even more confusing. 

The painkillers he’s on make thinking feel like everything’s ruining through Windows 95’, he can practically hear his brain's fan whirring. His mind can’t really pull up fresh thoughts, just old truths, Kacchans never visited before and he apparently has no reason to now.

Katsuki sighs as he slumps back into his chair. Deku’s still clearly confused and he isn’t sure he has the energy to repeat himself right now, then considering how he failed the first time he decides might as well try.

“Everyone is fine, everything is as fine as it can be at the moment. You’re in the hospital recovering from the fight with supercharged crusty mcdusty, but you are also apparently going to be fine” Dekus staring at him like he has two heads so he keeps talking. “The league is being dealt with, I’m not talking about the fighting until tomorrow at the earliest, neither of us is in shape for that conversation and I don’t know much myself yet”

Deku’s pinch brows and slight pout tell him he’s got questions, questions he can’t answer. Anytime he even thinks about how the fight went down he feels like he’s going to explode.

Trying to reign in every ounce of self control he possesses he slumps further in his chair rubbing his face and counts to five. Then kicks Dekus hospital bed for good measure, before speaking again.

“Deku just rest, you're clearly still out of it and I don’t wanna repeat myself a third time.” Seriously how many other ways can he say everything is, by a very loose definition, fine. How much clearer can he make it that he’s not giving anything else up?

“Uh you didn’t have to repeat yourself? I believed you the first time, Kacchan” Deku couldn’t help but feel like Kacchan was purposely misinterpreting his question, but why? It shouldn’t be a hard question, he’d really only asked to make conversation and clear up some brain cobwebs.

“Then why did you ask–“ Something ugly and broken twists in Katsuki’s gut as he slowly repeated Dekus' question in his head ‘what are you doing here’.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here if you didn’t have to be.”

Deku wasn’t, hadn’t been, asking why someone was there with him but why he, Katsuki, was there. Deku wanted to know why he was here instead of literally anyone else. Deku didn’t know that Katsuki had basically taken up permanent residence in here with him, probably couldn’t see the cot laying at the foot of his bed.

White-hot rage coursed through him in an instant, after everything they went through Deku thought he’d just ditch him to some extras in scrubs? Katsuki had a bad temper on good sleep, exhausted he was ready to put Deku back in a coma.

He struggled with the feeling of his palms heating, but the second before he felt like detonating Katsuki caught Deku’s eyes in full.

As always they show everything the nerds feeling and the familiarity soothes him in a way he can’t explain. Doesn’t ever want to explain.

It used to drive him up the wall like Deku was purposely giving him messages in a language he couldn’t read. Shoving in his face how inadequate he is in comparison.

Katsuki knows now that’s not the case and over the last few months, he’s actually been learning how to read Deku for the first time in his life.

And he’s discovering that even though it’s an advanced read for him he likes the challenge and even more he likes the victorious warmth that spreads down to his toes when he can tell just what Dekus is thinking without any words.

Right now Deku does look slightly confused and yet still so open and trusting, and his crooked shy smile proves that he is actually happy Katsukis here. His confusion is just that, confusion.

Always glad to see him, always caught off guard by his presence.

As much as the familiarity soothed the recognition hurt.

A couple of months on good terms doesn’t erase all the bad years, he knows this, he’s told himself as much a dozen-plus times.

He’s never visited Deku in the infirmary or the hospital before now.

At first just because his stubborn pride insisted that he couldn’t show weakness/care for someone else because he was above them all, that he had to constantly act like Deku was below him. Even when he recognized Deku as a rival he didn’t visit, partly because of lingering pride but mostly because he felt like he didn’t deserve to.

He was too much of a coward/slave to his pride to risk being turned away.

This time he hadn’t even considered Deku might not want him, he had just selfishly insisted he stay by his side for his own peace of mind.

To see Deku wanted him here but couldn’t understand why Katsuki would want to be here himself left his fingers feeling numb as all the adrenaline drained out of him.

Deku studied Kacchan intently, his explosive rival had turned to him and risen half out his chair looking like he was about to shout at him but when their eyes locked the words had apparently died on his tongue.

Now Kacchan was just staring at him with an unreadable expression entirely unmoving after he plopped back in his seat, never breaking eye contact. It was clear now that Kacchan hadn’t understood his question at first but now he seemed lost at how to answer.

Deku wanted to wait for Kacchan to speak but experience told him he shouldn’t hold his breath.

Besides it was late, as much as he desperately didn’t want him to go, Kacchan should be safely asleep in his own room. It’d be selfish to ask him to stay.

Kacchan probably hadn’t meant to stay as late as he did, he was just prone to falling asleep wherever he was once 9 pm rolled around. Deku knew first hand that Auntie Mitsuki had a very strict bedtime policy that had long been physically instilled into Kacchans psyche.

“Kacchan, it’s late you should head back to the dorms and get some real sleep. I feel fine.” At the sudden incredulous tweak of a blonde eyebrow, Deku rushed to elaborate, “I mean I'm of course tired, and a sore but I feel whole. This is a familiar routine for me, I’m okay.”

Katsuki thought back to what he told All Might a lifetime ago, “he never considers himself”.

Here Deku was laying in a hospital bed concerned about his sleep and knowing just what he wanted/needed to hear, that Deku was okay, straight from the source.

It’s all he’d wanted to hear for almost a week now and he had to press his lips shut into a tight line to keep the embarrassing whimper he felt clawing at his throat from escaping.

“I know that you can go to the front desk and the attendant will call for a UA shuttle, doesn’t matter the time, Todoroki has left as late as 3 am”

Oh if that didn’t have something ugly snapping its jaws and thirsty for blood inside Katsuki. At heart, he’s always been explosively petty.

As much comfort as Todoroki being almost equally worried about Deku had been over the last week anytime anyone so much as even accidentally hinted at the ways Katsuki had failed to be there for Deku before now had him seeing red.

Reminding him how others had stepped up and into the places, Katsuki felt he should have been, felt like a slap in the face. But coming from Deku the anger he felt turned inward.

Where he usually saw red, all he saw was green. Not the warm emerald hue of Deku sitting in front of him, but dark bitter jealous green.

Petulant ‘whys’ clawed at his ribs. Why did people who’d only know Deku for a year have a more prominent roles in the nerds life than he did after knowing him forever, why did Deku have to like those extras so damn much, why didn’t he realize sooner how important Deku was, why did he have to care about any of that at all, why did Deku have to bring up that goddamn candy cane, why did Deku want to send him away, why wasn’t Deku even half as desperate to stay by his side as he was, why why why?!

He voiced none of these thoughts, instead just continued staring grumpily ahead. Hoping Deku didn’t notice how heavy his breathing had gotten or how he tightened his grip on the chair's armrests.

Deku took another sip of water before continuing. “I’m happy you’re here, really, it means a lot to me.” He let a genuine full smile slip on his face, he didn’t want Kacchan thinking he wasn’t grateful for his presence.

He really was happy that Kacchan was the first person he got to see upon waking up.

Circumstantial or not the fact that Kacchan was here with him now was a deep comfort to him and a pleasant way to wake up. Usually, it was to his classmates' forced positivity or his overly fussy weeping mother and that never got easier to deal with. As confusing as the change was it was a nice one. And he told him as much.

Why did Deku always know exactly what to say to people? When he, Katsuki Bakugo, couldn’t say anything at all.

Normally the instant relief his body felt at Deku’s words just pissed him off, but tonight exhaustion took its toll.

He felt the tears he’d been fighting all week fall hot and sticky down his cheeks, embarrassment shame and guilt tinted his face a splotchy pink. When he felt the lump in his throat give way to a choked hiccup he didn’t just crack, he shattered.

Ugly sobs racked through him and he buried his face in his hands and dug his fingers into his hair.

Why was the only familiar part of this him breaking down in front of Deku? He’s known Deku his whole life. He should have been the first and last person in Deku’s hospital room every time from the very beginning if for nothing more than obligation. Any one of those times could have been the last time.

Deku would have slipped away from him, and Katsuki would have been one of the last ones to know.

He hadn’t because he knew it’d always end up like this, him blubbering like a baby over Dekus hospital bed and he couldn’t risk it before. Too desperate to keep that little voice inside him that picks apart his every sign of weakness quiet.

It never goes away and UA had made it so much louder, he couldn’t give more feed to the fire. That’s exactly what Deku does to him.

On bad days Katsuki feels the little claws of insecurity scratching at his brain comparing him to Deku, that Deku’s surpassing him because he’s weak and he’s going to get left behind, he’s going to be forgotten.

On equally bad days he surpasses Deku completely and the voice switches gears, telling him he doesn’t deserve Dekus praises. That he’s a hopeless brat with an oversized ego and Deku’s words are empty. Katsuki hasn’t earned them, and he never will, Deku’s just placating him.

Katsuki doesn’t have good days.

Why did he even care though, Deku has seen him cry a dozen times and never once has it changed anything, hell Deku cries all the time.

But Deku’s never been debilitated by crying the way he is, Deku always keeps moving like he doesn’t even notice he’s crying. But he, Katsuki, can barely breathe around his tears.

Because he’s weak and a coward and everything Dekus not. Deku’s light years ahead of him in being a better person and by proxy a better hero and he’s never going to catch up.

Delirious with exhaustion Katsukis thoughts keep spiraling out of his control, growing more and more vicious.

He doesn’t even deserve to call himself Dekus' rival, Deku’s going to leave him behind, Deku’s going to keep taking on the world by himself because he’s not strong enough to fight alongside him, Dekus going to get himself killed and it’s all his fault. He’s hyperventilating through his sobs now.

“Wha- Kacchan, what’s wrong?” Deku suppressed a small groan at stretching stiff unused muscles as his scrambled brain had him lurch forward to grasp Kacchans wrists, he can see where blunt nails dig into his scalp. Gently as he could, Deku replaces callused hands with his crooked ones.

“Hey look at me.” He lifted Kacchans head to meet his eyes and took deep slow dramatic breaths encouraging Kacchan to match his breathing. Red eyes frantically scanned his face and clutched his wrists tightly like a lifeline, desperate that Deku doesn’t pull away.

Slowly their breathing synchronized, the tears kept flowing though, Deku was certain he was crying now too but he made no move to confirm this. He just kept watching Kacchan, keeping his own breathing steady. This wasn’t the first time he’s had Kacchan match his breathing, but it is the first time he’s been this close and this obvious about it. Then again Kacchans never looked this desperate.

In the past when he’s noticed Kacchans breathing has sped up and his gaze looks far away he’ll nonchalantly sit down next to him like he hasn’t noticed Kacchans problem at all, then he’ll practice his own breathing exercises a little louder than would be considered polite. Consciously or not Kacchan follows suit.

He’d learned the tactic when he was 7 from his mom helping one of their neighbors on the way to the store, a very nice lady he called Auntie Kay. She had some kind of disorder that gave her bad anxiety and had apparently forgotten to take meds that morning and got overwhelmed by the noise. His mom used to be an assisted living caregiver before she became, well his mom, so she had experience with this kind of thing.

Later she explained what she’d been doing. That you're someone they have a long history of trusting you don’t want to get in their space, just reaffirm to them that they’re safe and try to get them to slow their breathing, focus on breathing out.

1, because It’s hard to concentrate if you don’t feel safe. 2, the human body doesn’t know if it has enough oxygen, it knows if it’s getting enough air and if it has too much carbon dioxide in it, and you breathe out carbon dioxide.

That day his mom was like a mini hero, saving the day with a smile. It made him more aware that there’s more to being a hero than just fighting villains, it’s about saving people.

He can’t fight villains from a hospital bed, he could still be there for others. He could be there for Kacchan.

After a minute he hesitantly thumbed away the freshest tears but that seemed to just make things worse as another sob racked through Kacchan and he tightened his grip on his wrists. It wasn’t until Kacchan finally spoke and he reflexively snapped his jaw shut that Deku realized he’d been making soft shushing noises.

Katsuki tightened his grip on Deku’s wrists as he choked on one last sob thinking that Deku was finally pulling away, but when he just continued to thumb his tears away and making soft little noises he let himself believe Deku wasn’t going to dismiss him again.

Katsukis never let himself be comforted like this by anyone, not even as a child, but he was too tired to fight it, too distraught to care about how selfish he’s sure he’s being, and too certain that Deku was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

He’s confronted his own mortality a few times this year but none of it had compared to being confronted in real-time with Dekus. Living with Deku so close to death over the last week had taken its toll on everyone but Katsuki especially had been unraveling more and more each day.

The first day he’d been ready to bring the entire hospital down if he didn’t get to Deku’s side immediately. It only got worse from there.

He’d grown more cantankerous than he’d ever been, but the fire in him had been dying out. By the time Deku first woke up and didn’t recognize him the only thing he’d say to anyone was the same mumbled shut up, only sometimes accompanied by half-hearted sparks daring anyone to try to remove him from the room.

Auntie Inko was distraught too but she had let All Might take her home after that first visit and encouraged her to rest there saying something about how no mother should have to see this side of hero work or whatever.

The doctors were probably just worried about what all those tears might do to their equipment, Katsuki certainly had been even if he hadn’t said so.

Katsuki had promised Inko he’d stay by Deku’s' side, she’d looked conflicted about something but they both silently agreed that was a discussion for another day.

Katsuki doesn’t know what to say now but desperately feels like he needs to say something.

He’s terrified it’ll all come out wrong and freak Deku out, Deku who just woke up for real for the first time! He’s terrified of saying nothing and losing his chance to say anything at all because Deku just woke up for real for the first time in a week!

Deku deserves to hear him apologize for everything, but he doesn’t feel like he’s ready to be forgiven and if Deku doesn’t forgive he doesn’t know what’ll happen to him, he may very well implode.

If Deku turns him away then the kindest thing the universe could do for him would be to ignite every nitroglycerin-soaked cell in his body and just let him go. But the universe isn’t kind and will instead make him force himself out of this room and into a UA shuttle and into a life where everything green fades into bleak gray.

“Kacchan, your muttering” Deku says with the softest smile Katsuki has ever seen, and he feels like all his broken pieces have begun melting.

Deku stays silent, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. He seems content with doing nothing more than smiling at him until the sun comes up. And Katsuki feels another sob rip through him as he forces himself to speak.

“I meant it when I told you to keep your eyes on me.” The desperation in his own voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him. “I want you to know to look for me, and that I’ll be there. Even outside of heroing. I want you to expect me at every turn, forever. I don’t wanna be unexpected”

Deku leans forward and Katsuki thinks he’ll stop breathing all over again until their foreheads bump together. Deku’s looking right in his eyes, and he’s so close Katsuki's eyes can barely focus on him. They just stay like that for a small eternity while Katsuki’s heart beats wildly for entirely different reasons. One’s he’s not sure he’s ready to understand.

“Okay, Kacchan”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Laugh

Prompt: Hi!! I really love your writing and always look forward to when you update, I can’t tell if your prompts are open (please ignore this if they aren’t!) but if they are I have a prompt for your (un)wanted series; each of the fae making Virgil laugh for the first time, at first he’s insecure/scared to laugh because of experiences in the village but he slowly learns to be ok/comfortable laughing thanks to the fae; again, if your prompts aren’t open I apologize and hope you have a nice day!! - anon

so uh

hey

did you guys know that this past Friday was the one year anniversary of the first chapter of (un)wanted

'cause wow

uhhhhhh I'm not good at speeches so have fluff

Read on Ao3 (Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: none!

Pairings: DLAMPR, it’s found family nonsense

Word Count:  5419

Whether or not they agree on who made Virgil laugh first is irrelevant, the point is that they’ll find something to argue about sooner or later, and when they do, Virgil’s learned enough to curl up with Oliver and just watch. Preferably from the safety of the kraken’s head, a little bit away from the shore, where he’s close enough to hear the things they say but not close enough to be in the way.

It was Oliver’s idea to do that, actually. Virgil…hasn’t been the best at learning how to deal with anger. Other people’s anger, in particular, for completely understandable reasons.

 It had been Logan who spotted it, coming over to his side when the twins were having an argument over what side of the lake they were each taking jurisdiction for that decade and Roman’s voice had risen, Remus’s voice had multiplied, and Logan had seen Virgil curl in on himself, clutching his tunic tightly around him and trying desperately to vanish into the wall.

 Once the twins realized what was happening—namely, Virgil breathing heavily in Logan’s arms as he glared at the two of them for being so oblivious—they’d stopped right away, calming down and crouching to be smaller so that Virgil could see them, see them, not their anger, and apologize. Remus had tugged Virgil into his lap as part of his apology and Roman had ruffled his hair and promised that he’d never raise his voice around him again.

 Logan had been quiet as Virgil clung to him, only later working up the courage to ask what was wrong with him.

 “Nothing is wrong with you, little one, you’re experiencing symptoms of your trauma.” A cool hand had passed over his forehead, smoothing his hair back from his face. “Your experiences with human anger have not been good, it stands to reason that you react to it.”

 “But—it’s stupid,” Virgil had spat, “I know—I should know you guys won’t—won’t—“

 “Shh, shh, hush, now…that’s it. Come back here for a moment. There you go.” Logan’s chin had come to rest on top of Virgil’s head. “Knowing something theoretically and properly internalizing it are two different processes, little one. It’s going to take time.”

 “But I’ve given it time.”

 “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. There’s no textbook on healing from trauma.”

 “There should be.”

 Logan had chuckled. “I don’t think even with our combined lifetimes we would be able to read it.”

 But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t start trying to help Virgil work through it. It had been the twins who started taking the bigger steps; sometimes Roman or Remus would be spending time with Virgil and the other would bustle in, muttering about something or other gone wrong. A patch of kelp that kept getting infected, a herd of deer that insisted on trampling half of the garden, something. And as they talked, the other would coax Virgil into their lap, keeping him grounded. Their voices might raise, just a little, but they were very careful not to yell and the warm weight of arms around Virgil and a head on his shoulder kept him safe.

 When someone couldn’t hold him, Oliver does. The kraken made no secret of how much he liked to hold Virgil—Remus muttered something about how he wasn’t jealous of a kraken, shut up, Roman—and had no reservations about extending an arm for Virgil to step into to wrap him up and carry him to safety. The others made sure not to yell, of course, but that meant that it manifested in other ways.

 Logan’s hands turned blue.

 Roman’s magic started to tingle from his fingers.

 Remus’s tentacles came out.

 Janus started hissing.

 Patton’s chest glowed.

 And sometimes, when he’s safely in someone else’s arms and high away on top of Oliver’s head, that was fine.

 Virgil shuffles a little, careful to keep his weight squarely on top of Oliver, not shifting too much either side. Of course, that’s easy when Oliver is really fucking huge. And the kraken burbles every now and then, shifting slowly from side to side in the water, careful not to jostle him too much. He pats the spot next to him in thanks and the water thrums with Oliver’s purr.

 Onshore, about twenty feet away, he makes eye contact with Logan. Logan rolls his eyes dramatically, the sheer exasperation on his face making Virgil snort. When he looks back, Logan’s face has softened considerably into such fondness that he can feel the tips of his ears flush.

 “I don’t know why we’re still fucking arguing about this,” Remus says, drawing their attention, “I won! I got him to laugh first! So I win!”

 “You have no proof of that,” Roman says immediately, “besides, you haven’t even told us what it is, how are we supposed to trust that?”

 “Just because we’re not all Lolo with his meticulous journals and note-taking methods doesn’t mean I’m not right, you absolute—“

 “Language!”

 “Oh, I’ll show you fucking language—“

 “How is it,” Virgil mumbles at Oliver, “that they’ve been arguing for so long and Remus hasn’t said what he thinks it is yet?”

 The kraken just shrugs. Carefully, not moving Virgil, but he does shrug.

 “Well, since you’re so adamant that you’re correct,” Janus drawls, effectively cutting off Remus and Patton’s tangent about swearing—which is something they never can quite put down—“why don’t you tell us what it is?”

 “Roro and Pat were there,” Remus huffs, putting his hands on his hips, I don’t see what there is to argue about.”

 “We were—oh goodness,” Patton sighs, “are you talking about the first time Virgil met Oliver?”

 Remus beams. “Sure am!”

 “Was that when I got absolutely covered in that voracious green slime that was determined to consume me?” Roman scoffs and wipes his sleeves at the memory of it. “Absolutely dreadful.”

 Remus throws his head back and cackles.

 “It was a wonder I was able to get clean,” Roman mutters, glaring at his brother, absolutely splitting his sides.

 “Ah,” Remus sighs after a moment, wiping his eyes, “good times, good times.”

 He points victoriously at Patton.

 “See? You were there! You remember!”

 Patton sighs. “I do…but that doesn’t count.”

 “What?” Remus whirls around and gestures at Oliver, who stick up two tentacle tips and waves. “Are you discounting this magnificent, glorious beastie from our debate?”

 “Technically that would be Oliver getting Virgil to laugh, not you.”

 “Or,” Roman says, puffing his chest out, “it would be me. Since I was the one to get so egregiously wounded—“

 “You were covered in slime,” Logan points out, “calm down.”

 “—then it was me that sparked that reaction.”

 Virgil rolls his eyes and pats Oliver’s head again. “You’re not just a beastie, you know that, right?”

 Oliver rumbles under him.

 “Okay, good.”

 “Besides, that was barely a laugh.” Patton pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It was…okay, yes, it’s one of my favorite memories since Virgil has come to stay with us—“

 Remus turns and shoots Virgil a wink over his shoulder.

 “—but a laugh?” Patton looks at Logan. “What’s the definition of a laugh, Lo?”

 “Technically, it’s to express certain emotions, particularly mirth or delight, through a series of spontaneous and usually unarticulated sounds.” Logan crosses his arms. “Which means that as long as it wasn’t planned and it wasn’t articulated, anything counts as a laugh.”

 “Thank you!”

 “Alright, alright,” Patton huffs, “always with the technicalities.”

 “You were the one who asked me for the definition.”

 “So what do you think it is,” Janus asks, examining his gloves with feigned disinterest, “since you’re so insistent that you know the correct usage of the word ‘laugh?’”

 Virgil can see Patton’s grin from Oliver’s head.

 “Why, the bread day, of course!”

 As if on cue, several groans go up around the clearing.

 “Patton, none of us were there for that—“

 “You can’t just keep insisting on that one, it’s not like—“

 “You can stop rubbing it in, Pat—“

 “Of course, you need—“

 “It was wonderful,” Patton says, raising his voice just a little to speak over the others, “he looked so happy.”

 Virgil does actually remember that one too. And yes, okay, maybe he’s glad that he’s far away from the others so they can’t see the small smile spreading over his face at the memory. The warm kitchen, the smell of the bread, the soft warmth of Patton’s presence next to him…

 Yeah, that’s a good memory.

 Oliver thrums under him and he pats the kraken’s head absentmindedly. Patton sighs over on the shore as the others mutter amongst themselves. Then he claps his hands.

 “Well, I think that’s me winning, so—“

 “Hold on,” Logan says, holding up his hand, “as we said, you are the only one who was there. I would argue that a laugh where all of us were present is much more significant.”

 He glances up at Virgil and his gaze softens.

 “Considering the incredible amount of work that Virgil has done since arriving to stay with us, I’d say that marks…quite an achievement.”

 Of course, as soon as one of them starts to get all sappy, the rest quickly join in. Virgil is incredibly glad that he can use shifting on top of Oliver’s head to duck away from the blush he knows is spreading all over his face. Mostly so he doesn’t have to look at the fondness and pride on their faces. Partly because he knows Roman would immediately become insufferable.

 “So,” Roman says after a while, which means it’s safe to look up again, “what exactly did you have in mind?”

 Logan crosses his arms, using one hand to adjust his glasses on his face. “Do we all remember the first time Virgil began to experiment with his webs?”

 Virgil’s breath catches in his throat. Oh, he knows what Logan’s talking about.

 The seasons had been turning, fall creeping in through the tendrils of the forest. The leaves had begun to change, dislodging themselves from their branches and twisting down through the air to land in massive piles on the ground. Carpets of red, orange, purple, and brown had covered the paths they would walk, fruits growing heavy and ripe. Roman and Patton had spent hours out in the woods near the lake with him, plucking berries off the trees and eating them until their mouths and fingers were stained with the juice.

 The trees around the clearing had lost their leaves a little quicker than the others, leaving their limbs bare, the naked wood gleaming in the sun. The light had warmed the leaves during the day, leaving them dry and crunchy as they walked over them. Something Virgil hadn’t minded at all during the day—he had gotten into more than a few playful encounters with Remus, crashing through the leaves just to hear them crunch—but when night had rolled around…

 The thin limbs blowing in the breeze hadn’t been pleasant reminders that the seasons were changing. No, they were fingers tapping threateningly on the windows, or looming there to scratch him if he moved too much.

 Logan had noticed him hovering just outside the clearing the next day, softly placing a hand on his shoulder after alerting him to his presence and asking, gently, what the matter was.

 “The…the trees,” Virgil had muttered, balling his fists up in shame, “I, um…they…”

 Logan had taken one look at the way the shadows fell around the clearing and nodded firmly. “I understand, little one.”

 He’d tucked Virgil up in his arms when Virgil asked, rubbing his back gently.

 “Would you like to talk about it, or be distracted from it?”

 “Distraction, please.”

 Logan had smiled. “Have you had a chance to practice with your webs yet?”

 “No.”

 “Would you like to try now?”

 “Uh, sure. What do we do?”

 Logan had started to walk them toward the center of the clearing, explaining how spiders use their webs as a part of their consciousness.

 “Wait, they what?”

 Logan had nodded. “There is a theory of mind known as ‘extended cognition.’ It states that whilst humans—and most sentient beings—use their minds as a great deal of their processing of thought and feeling, we rely on a lot of external structures outside of our minds to help us think. Sometimes outside of our own bodies as well.”

 “Whoa…” Virgil had looked down at his hands. “What do you mean?”

 “Think of the way you organize your room.” Logan had gestured to Virgil’s door. “It’s laid out in a way that helps you think, helps you process information. It informs your decision-making sometimes, does it not?”

 At Virgil’s nod, Logan had asked softly for his hand, beginning to make small circles in the air as Virgil started to let his webs slip.

 “The same is true of a spider’s web. Picture the web as something of a hub.”

 “A hub?”

 “Yes. Do you remember talking about how spiders use their webs?”

 “Yeah, as like a sensory extension. They can feel the vibrations of different strands in order to track their food or sense what’s coming for them.”

 Logan had smiled. “Very good memory, Virgil, that’s excellent. Yes, they can tell the difference between different types of vibrations too, from different types of prey to debris to predators.”

 A small web starts to form between the gaps in Virgil’s fingers.

 “But what else they do is fascinating.” He tugs very gently on one of the strands. “The spider isn’t idle when it sits in the middle of its web. Rather, it’s constantly moving, checking each individual strand. Pulling this one a little tighter, tugging that one.”

 Virgil watches as the light gleams off of the strands. He moves his fingers a little to watch them. “What for?”

 “Pulling a strand tighter makes it more sensitive to vibrations.” He reaches up to Virgil’s head. “Like cupping your hand around your ear to hear things more clearly.”

 “Whoa, that’s cool.”

 “Mm. An external way of filtering what information the spider receives in order to better process it.”

 Virgil had looked up at Logan. Logan had smiled softly and stepped back, letting Virgil spin the web between his own hands.

 “…you think this will help me too?”

 “I think that my research has shown that taking a spider’s web away from them severely impairs their ability to function,” had come the quiet reply, “and that you haven’t had much of a chance to spin freely.”

 Virgil had looked down at his hands. The web had looked so small, too small. He had looked back up at Logan, chewing on his lip.

 “Can I…?”

 Logan had smiled and folded his hands behind his back.

 Virgil had closed his eyes and reached.

 There was something strange, he had realized, about being in your body without being in your body. Something like a wall, sometimes thick, sometimes only static, between you and whatever you sense. Hiding somewhere in a corner of your mind where you were in the world, but not really with the world. As if you were existing but just…slightly to the left.

 His body didn’t need to do anything spectacular, it just needed to exist. He was a shape. Just a shape. Nothing more, nothing less.

 And that was okay.

 Without even realizing it, his four legs had lifted him up, suspending him a few inches off the ground as his hands continued to spin. He had felt them taking the web produced and moving it from place to place, but he wasn’t thinking about it.

 He had just…done it.

 He had been the slight crack in his left finger as he wrapped his hands around and around the threads of the web.

 He had been the very tip of his upper left leg as it took the web and tossed it into place.

 He had been the last strand that decided to stick to somewhere and make that its home.

 When he had opened his eyes, an unknown amount of time later, his mouth had dropped open in awe.

 The clearing, previously empty save for the bare-limbed trees and scattered leaves, was draped and covered in spiderwebs.

 Logan, who must’ve been standing there quietly, had looked up and around him, eyes wide with wonder. He had turned slowly, spotting Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus, all staring around with wide eyes at the mass of webs that clung with gossamer elegance to the fabric of the world.

 Virgil had hung there, suspended amidst the web, spinning slowly as he felt the world breathe.

 Dusk had fallen, bathing the clearing in a soft light that reached gentle fingers out to paint thin blue shadows along the ground. The cool air had been weightless, blowing effortlessly through each strand and setting it to tingle. Everywhere a strand vibrated, a single drop of dew had formed, a single crystal in the half-dark.

 A glittering hub.

 And for the first time, Virgil had looked at something he’d made not with fear, not with anger, but with wonder.

 And he’d laughed.

 Giddy, child-like, bemused entirely by his creation and the way his body molded to the soft chimes of the web, spinning, spinning, unspun in the comfort of the mist.

 Virgil’s legs twitch behind him at the memory of the first web, and as he looks down, he realizes he’s been idly toying with a web on top of Oliver. The kraken, of course, is more than delighted to realize he’s received a present, burbling happily as Logan finishes his quiet recounting of that evening. A lull hangs over the shore for a moment before Logan adjusts his tie.

 “I believe I win.”

 “Hold on,” Roman says, “let’s not be too hasty, here.”

 “I do remember that,” Patton murmurs, glancing over at Virgil, “that web was so pretty.”

 “Pretty enough for Logan to win?”

 “Maybe not that pretty.” He sends a wink at Virgil.

 Rude.

 “Well,” Logan huffs, turning to Roman, “if you’re so certain, Roman, what on earth do you think it is?”

 Virgil can hear the fucking smirk on his face from here.

 “Have you all forgotten so quickly?” He spreads his arms. “Has the image of our sleepy little spider left your minds so soon after it happened?”

 Oh.

 Oh, no.

 Virgil knows exactly what Roman’s talking about.

 Okay, in his defense—who is he kidding, he knows damn well he set himself up for this. But it had been such a long day! He’d been working with Logan, trying to get the garden set up properly and that was hard, okay? Trying to manage the three different notebooks, the planters, the pots, the tools, it was a lot, and he still wasn’t used to using his new legs so he kept bumping into things and it was a lot. Then he had to help Patton with clearing out another section of the kitchen to make room for all the new baking pans and they were so loud and hard to manage and get the things in all the right places took so long and ugh. And then to top it all off Janus had promised to go with him on a walk and—listen, okay, the day was long.

 And Roman is really, really warm.

 He’d been walking back from the portal, drained from the effort of keeping his magic under control on the other side of the garden, panting slightly as he rounded the corner. He’d looked up just in time to see Roman shutting his red door behind him.

 “Ah,” he’d said, coming over with a smile, “there you are, little honeybee, I’ve been looking for you.”

 He’d taken one look at Virgil’s demeanor, however, and quickly softened his voice, coming a little closer, hands at the ready to ensure he was alright.

 “What’s happened, little honeybee, are you alright? Do you need anything?”

 “I’m fine, Roman, I just—oh—“

 “Shh, easy, hey, come here…” Roman had leaned Virgil gently against the side of the house. “Too much?”

 Virgil had nodded wearily. “Think I just…pushed it a little too hard today.”

 “It happens.” He’d run his hand gently through Virgil’s hair. “Magic-wise or just existence-wise?”

 “Bit of both?”

 “My poor little honeybee, you must be exhausted.” Virgil’s eyes had slipped closed for a moment as Roman had carded his hand through his hair again. “Do you want to be left alone, or can I take care of you?”

 Virgil had leaned into Roman’s touch and mumbled something. Roman had chuckled.

 “Those aren’t words, little honeybee.”

 “Mm.” Virgil had managed to crack one eye open. “C’n I come with you?”

 “Of course, Virgil, let’s get you somewhere warmer.”

 Roman had guided him carefully through the red door, sitting him down and producing cloth and bottle out of seemingly nowhere. He had shushed any protests gently, saying that it didn’t matter that Virgil hadn’t been crying, he can still let Roman clean his face off. He’d cupped Virgil’s head and asked him quietly to look at him.

 “I don’t want you to fall asleep here, little honeybee,” he’d murmured, “so try and stay awake until we can get you somewhere comfortable, alright?”

 “I’m not that tired,” he’d protested, “I’ll be fine.”

 Roman had just smiled.

 And Virgil really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him be so tired that he’d tried really hard to keep his eyes open. Even when Roman’s hand under his chin had been so warm, so confident in holding his head right where it needed to be. Even when the soothing repetitive motions of the cloth had coaxed his gaze not to Roman’s face but to the way the fabric moved in and out of his vision. Even when Roman had to pause and rewet the cloth and he’d let his eyes drift shut for a moment, just a moment.

 Only to realize later that Roman had stopped completely, and was watching him with a quietly smug smile.

 “Stay awake for me, little honeybee,” he’d whispered, “I’m almost done.”

 “‘M trying.”

 “I know, I know,” Roman had soothed, finishing cleaning his face, “and you’re doing a wonderful job for me.”

 Then, of course, everything had gone wrong.

 Because just that one little word of praise had been enough for the very tips of Virgil’s ears to go read, and of course, Roman had spotted it.

 “Little honeybee,” he’d murmured, tilting Virgil’s chin up just a little higher, “what’s got you so flustered?”

 “Nothing.”

 “Hmm, nothing? Are you sure? Your ears look awful red.”

 “It’s fine.”

 “Oh, I’m sure,” Roman had said lowly, still cleaning off Virgil’s face with gentle swipes of the cloth, “I’m sure it’s fine, little honeybee, I trust you completely, I’m simply worried. If I’m doing something wrong, then I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”

 He says, as he’d looked directly into Virgil’s eyes.

 “Why,” Virgil had whined out as Roman had chuckled, watching him cover his face, “are you so mean?”

 “Sorry, little honeybee,” Roman had murmured, not sounding very sorry at all as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, “I couldn’t resist, you’re too cute.”

 “I am not!”

 “Oh, little honeybee—“

 “No,” Virgil had said—said, definitely, not pouted, “don’t respond to that.”

 “If you insist.” Roman had given him another moment before reminding him that he still needs to finish. “I’m really almost done, I promise. It won’t take much longer.”

 Of course, having someone hold your face when you were already flustered is not easy, and it was Roman, so…

 “What happened,” he had asked as though he didn’t know damn well what had happened, “why aren’t you so sleepy anymore, little honeybee?”

 Virgil had been quite impressed with the glare he’d managed to give Roman through the remaining blush on his cheeks. Roman had simply laughed.

 “Alright, I deserve that.” He’d stroked a thumb carefully over Virgil’s clean cheek and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the other. “You did wonderfully, little honeybee, thank you. I’m all done now.”

 Roman had turned away, putting the cloth and the bottle back into whatever aether he’d pulled them out of and offering his hand to Virgil.

 “Come on, do you want to change into something else?”

 The sleepy haze had returned by the time he’d managed to get into the softer clothes Roman had offered, all but stumbling into Roman’s arms as they retreated to the large mess of cushions and pillows. Roman had laid down first, Virgil on top of him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other scratching lightly at the center of his four legs.

 “Shh, shh,” he’d coaxed when Virgil had started to whine, “none of that now, little honeybee, just relax.”

 A soft knock on the door.

 “Yes?”

 “Roman, have you seen…” Logan had trailed off the instant he spotted them. “Ah. Nevermind.”

 “Have I seen our little spider?” Roman had lightly knuckled Virgil’s jaw. “Yes, I believe I have. Did you need something?”

 “Only to join you, if you’d allow me.” He’d glanced behind up. “Or rather, allow us.”

 Virgil hadn’t been able to fully recognize the others coming in to join them around the mass of pillows, but he had registered the soft weight of Patton asking if he could dust him off a little and the soft gurgle of Remus as he settled in above them on the wall.

 “My, my,” a voice had drawled, Virgil too tired to look over at Janus, “what a sleepy little spider.”

 “Mm.” Virgil had felt Roman’s chest warm as the hand on his back continued to scratch gently. “Precious little spider.”

 “Are you two just going to fuss at him until he falls asleep?”

 “Why shouldn’t we?”

 “Well, if you fluster him too badly he might not be able to sleep.”

 “Why, Logan, I’m hurt. Surely you know we would never.”

 Virgil still isn’t sure what it was, whether it was the drawl of Janus’s voice, Logan’s disbelieving scoff, or the very real memory of Roman enjoying driving him out of his mind a few minutes ago, but whatever it was, it bubbled up in the pit of his stomach and he started to giggle.

 The room had gone quiet, just listening to Virgil lying on Roman’s chest, absolutely stunned.

 “You’re so giggly, little spider,” Roman had teased, “so giggly, so adorable, I’ve never heard you giggle before. It’s so cute!”

 “Giggle spider, is that a thing, Logan?”

 “Well, it certainly is now.”

 Roman had rubbed his back soothingly, still teasing, trying to lull Virgil back to sleep. Janus had reached over and tucked a blanket over the two of them, leaning down to kiss Virgil’s hair and murmur something about getting it out, little spider, it would be alright.

 Virgil isn’t sure if that was the first time he’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face, but it wasn’t the last.

 “…yes, alright,” Logan concedes, “that was adorable.”

 Roman throws his hands up in triumph. “See? Everyone’s favorite is our giggle spider.”

 Yeah, Virgil’s really glad he’s not standing next to Roman right now, and that he’s far enough away that they can’t see his blush if he ducks his head. He still gets all giggly when he remembers it, no use in reminding everyone of that now.

 “Janus? Are you going to try and compete, or…” Roman strikes a dramatic pose. “Shall we commence with my victory already?”

 Janus is quiet for a minute. Then he raises his hand and lets a little bit of the golden glow of the Claim flicker up around his hand.

 “Virgil,” he says softly—oh, he’s using it so he doesn’t have to raise his voice, that’s clever— “would you come over here, please?”

 “Uh, sure.” He pats Oliver’s head and the kraken burbles, wrapping an arm tightly around Virgil’s waist to set him on the shore near Remus. Remus reaches out to steady him, make sure he’s alright. “I’m good, thanks. I’m here now.”

 “Yes, thank you, little mouse.” Janus tilts his head. “Do you have a favorite?”

 “…favorite?”

 “A time you laughed,” comes the soft voice, “do you have one? It’s alright if you don’t.”

 Virgil glances around the circle, expecting to see scoffs or playful challenges or maybe—just maybe—someone will whisper that he knows theirs is the correct choice. But he doesn’t.

 All he sees are curious expressions, even a few encouraging smiles.

 “Wait, really?”

 Janus nods. “Anything? It doesn’t have to be much.”

 Virgil thinks. Does he? He remembers meeting Oliver for the first time, remembers making bread with Patton, remembers spinning in the clearing, remembers falling asleep on Roman’s chest.

 Something else…something else…

 “I remember,” he starts nervously, “it was one of the first times I went for a walk at night by myself.”

 He looks around, maybe he wasn’t supposed to do that, but no judgment meets his gaze. He swallows.

 “It was dark outside but the moon was really bright. I could see perfectly, even with the trees, all the way to the lake.”

 He glances behind him, at Oliver, playing in the reeds.

 “Oliver was asleep. He—I think it was after you guys spent the day cleaning out the underbelly of the caverns down there, he was really tired. So the lake was, like, super flat.”

 He remembers little ripples, just the barest touch of the breeze to the surface of the water.

 “And I, um, I realized that I’d never actually seen anything be that…” He struggles for a moment for the right word. “…still before.”

 He shifts a little.

 “Everything was always moving. Even when it was quieter, the water was never completely flat. There were waves, there were—there was always something.”

 But not that night. No, that night it felt like the lake was breathing, not like the wind was blowing across it. If he sat still enough, it was almost as if he could watch it inhale and exhale, at peace in the moonlight.

 “And I…I dunno, I really liked the way the moon looked.” He looks down at his hands. “It, uh, reminded me of what the Claim looks like.”

 He’d sat there for a while, just staring at his hands, wondering how the gold of the Claim would look bathed in silvery light. He’d rubbed them together, trying to see if he could feel it, only for something else to emerge entirely.

 He hears the gasps of Roman and Patton as a purple orb begins to form in his hands.

 “I, uh…made this for the first time that night,” he murmurs, watching it spin and dance in his hands, suspended there, floating like some great bubble, “and it looked…like me.”

 He remembers staring into it and not seeing anything but energy. About looking at it the way he used to watch the moon, the stars, anything he could never understand but wanted to, so desperately.

 Only to realize that he already understood it.

 Gone were the gauntlets, gone were the strings, gone were the threats of torture and hurt and pain.

 All that was left was this.

 And feeling that relief, seeing this orb as a manifestation of the fact that it was free…

 In that release, he’d laughed.

 “It was…the first time I think I realized I was me.”

 Virgil looks up at them. The orb fades back into nothingness, leaving his hands empty. After a pause, Janus reaches forward and gently draws him in.

 “That,” he says softly, “that is my favorite.”

 “You fucking sap.”

 “He has gone soft.”

 “Oh, like you haven’t?”

 And just like that, the petty bickering is back, but filled with fondness and barely concealed amusement and it’s so perfect, it’s so right, that Virgil can’t help himself.

 Virgil can’t help it, he laughs.

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