#if it's too vague he WILL assume he's overthinking it

[sunfollows]

i think. harper deserves to be chased after actually.

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[st4rc4t]

4eva (hasan piker x reader)

cw: depressed/bedridden!reader, entirely comfort

wc: 600+

a/n: if u think uve read this before, you have ! i originally wrote this for wilbur soot about 2 year ago but we all know how that went so . i rewrote it for hasan and its better now

When Hasan finds you, you’re curled into yourself and almost tiny. The big fluffy comforter makes it so only a small peak of your hair is in his view. If anyone had glanced, they would’ve thought the bed was empty. He knows better than that. He enters the space slowly, giving a low grumble of a greeting, making extra sure you know he’s there. He sits on the edge of the bed as delicately as he's capable. He watches your lump in the blanket rise and fall for a minute, mulling quietly over the right thing to say, and do. 

“Are you awake?” he whispered, keeping the hushed tone of the room.

A couple seconds of silence pass, and he’s almost scared he’s disturbing your incredibly needed rest. Although you shake your head in response, he can't tell if it's a yes shake or a no shake. At least he knows you’re awake, whether you want to admit it or not. Before he can begin to overthink his options, your hand snakes its way out of its blanket shell, leaving it out and open for him. He still doesn’t see your face. He shuffles his large body closer to yours, almost testing the waters.

He was so stressed when he got the text from you. A simple “I need you” has never pierced him so sharply. He was on his way immediately, assuming the worst from something so vague. He knew if you were in danger, you'd call, but he can never stop his brain once it's in panic mode. The sight of your form in the blanket wasn’t enough to fully quell the pit in his head, but it would be better soon. He would make sure of it.

Your hand moving is what brings him out of his thoughts, making little grabby motions at him. He loves when you do that, he loves feeling wanted. 

Finally, he decides to speak again, “Can I join you?” he mutters out sincerely, continuing to keep his voice low.

A whimpered, “Please,” is all he gets back.

He feels his heart squeeze at the plea, along with an involuntarily sympathetic, “awh” that escapes him. There's a slight pout on his face that, if the image had been taken out of context, would’ve looked as though he was fawning over a sad puppy. His insides are melting.

He physically can't keep you waiting any longer, or himself for that matter. He wants to squish you so hard into his chest, a piece of you stays with him forever.

He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the foot of your bed. Crawling over to lay in the space behind you, careful not to kneel on any limbs. He lays on top of your sheets, just outside the blanket cocoon. He’s still trying to give you space, while also being close. He's not sure why he’s so hesitant, worried about sending you back down whatever spiral landed you here. You turn over to face him, almost pathetically try to wrap your comforter around him. He fawns over you once again, admiring how caring you continue to be, despite the obvious aching. Gently reaching towards your face with both hands, he cradles your head in his large palms. He wiggles his too-big-for-your-bed-body into the protective layer that you've extended to him, tangling closer to you. Rubbing the apples of your cheeks, at long last seeing your pretty eyes gaze up at him. Your pupils dance around his face, looking hard, before your tears start acting up again. You practically smash your face into his chest, still pushing deeper. His warmth wraps around your figure as his arms do, your bodies melding to fit each other’s shape. He’d stay as long as you needed. Forever, preferably.

[satoruxx]

NORTHERN LIGHTS.

✧ PAIRING: kaeya alberich x fem!reader | 4.5k words

✧ SUMMARY: smut, p -> v, praise, fingering, lots of pining, angst, angsty bc it’s kaeya tbh lol, kaeya lore but it’s vague, also military themes bc sometimes we forget kaeya is a captain and i love the knights of favonius, he’s highkey got commitment issues but i think he’s valid, man is whipped tho, he's just an overthinker and traumatized, also can you tell i’m a med student?

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: first i have to apologize bc this is SO late??? i got this request back for my 200 event, asking for kaeya with the song northern lights by kennie (which is such a good song). at first i was gonna make it a short little drabble, but the more i wrote, the more i wanted to make it a full fic, which is what ended up happening. kaeya's character has so much depth and i wanted to explore it hehe. northern lights is such a fitting song for him so i just had to go all in. but i'm so sorry that i got to your request so late, hopefully you still enjoy it lovely! (even tho it’s not the main focus in this fic, this is technically my first real smut fic so take it with a grain of salt; i don't think i write it that well LMAO)

it was rare to truly know your own weaknesses, but kaeya knew his a little too well. behind his carefree, unbothered exterior he cared a little too much. he cares a little too much when klee tugs on his fur cape and whines about a scolding she’s gotten from jean, and he ends up indulging her with whatever she’d like. he cares a little too much when rosaria spills just a tad more than usual during her drunken ramblings. he cares a little too much when he sees the discomfort in the face of certain fiery bartender as they speak, and he consistently lies awake and remembers days when that discomfort between them didn’t exist.

it’s a curse, he thinks, because he always ends up feeling too attached to people he knows he shouldn’t be attached to.

even now, his weakness is acting up as he barks orders to his soldiers. they scramble around him as they enter the city, carrying their wounded brethren to safety up at the cathedral. kaeya knows he shouldn’t blame himself but as their captain he feels like he should’ve seen this coming. new recruits wouldn’t be able to handle the hordes of monsters at daduapa gorge—he miscalculated.

“take them to the sisters at the cathedral. sister barbara and the others should be able to heal them,” kaeya commands, clasping one of the men’s shoulders and helping him up to the church. he’s ignoring the now dull throbbing in his side as blood stains his clothes—his soldiers were most important right now. like he said, he cared a little too much.

the nurses had set up a medical station at the cathedral, and in between all the commotion, kaeya’s finally able to hand over the groaning soldier to a nurse, who immediately gets to work.

he then takes a few steps back to assess the damage, grateful that all of his soldiers are getting the attention they needed. he’d hate himself if there were any losses today.

he doesn’t even realize that he’s now leaning against the wall, panting shallowly as blood continues to pour from his abdomen. oh well, he’d wait his turn—only after his soldiers were taken care of.

kaeya shuts his eyes, letting his body rest for a minute.

“you’re wounded.”

his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him. he assumes you’re not one of the nuns because your clothes are entirely different. you’re young, appearing to be around his age as you eye his torso critically.

“it appears so,” he answers.

“did someone take a look at you yet?”

“i’d prefer all my soldiers be taken care of first.”

your eyes flash with recognition. “so you’re captain kaeya?”

“indeed i am.” he lets his eyes roam over your concerned features.

you give him a small smile before continuing with a sigh. “i can safely tell you that all the wounded are being treated. i’m still an apprentice so i’m only here to deal with the non fatal injuries. like yours, captain.” you crouch down in front of him, fingers reaching towards his clothing with a silent question of permission. he lets his hand slacken as he gives you a nod and you attempt to peel back as many layers as you can to asses the damage before you’re motioning him towards a tent.

a few minutes later and kaeya is letting you strip his torso bare until you have a full view of his injury. your fingers brush over the wounded skin gently, and he wonders if you even touched him at all. “it’s long, but not too deep. a few stitches and you should be alright. if you’re okay with it, i’ll get started,” you tell him.

kaeya wants to tell you that he’s no stranger to the pain of injuries, but he finds something oddly refreshing about your comforting attitude, so he just says yes and lets you begin to work.

you thread through the skin with a delicate hand and despite the sting he honestly can’t even focus on it, choosing instead to analyze your features.

he realizes that you’re awfully pretty.

kaeya makes small talk with you as you work, partly to stay awake through the pain and mostly because he can’t stop his curiosity. he finds out your name, your hobbies, your goals. you may not have the most exciting life but kaeya thinks there’s something so alluring about you it makes him a little dizzy. he's not sure what it is, but he thinks about it the whole time you tend to his wound. realization hits when you finally finish, looking up at him with a smile, and kaeya realizes that your eyes hold the stars in them.

it’s hard to explain but when kaeya watches you work, nose scrunching in the dim lighting of the tent, he thinks you remind him of home.

(kaeya has chased the stars for as long as he can remember. he remembers shouting with diluc in the grass behind the winery, the two of them reaching for celestia because the stars up there were so undeniably pretty.

"we're never gonna get them!" diluc would laugh, trying hard to balance kaeya on his little shoulders. "they're too far…"

and kaeya only grins down at him toothily, raising his fists to the sky. "no way! i'll catch them one day!"

and yet his whole childhood went by without being able to capture the stars. as he grew older he started to learn that it was impossible to steal what the sky so selfishly held on to.

but even as an adult, kaeya knows to appreciate the stars when he gets the privilege to see them in the sky.

especially after he finally seems to find them in the dim glow of a medical tent.)

he hates to admit how often his eyes seek you out after that one encounter. sometimes he’ll see you at the cat's tail, giggling with your friends as you slam tcg cards down on the table triumphantly. other times he’ll catch a glimpse of you at good hunter, chewing on a quick meal as you browse through a book. almost every time he gets caught staring you only smile and offer him a little wave that sends his brain into a frenzy.

(maybe in another life kaeya would allow himself the luxury. he’d let himself go through the motions for you. let himself stress every time you threw a glance his way. work up the courage to ask you out on saturday afternoon. finally get the chance to press his lips to yours. trace your skin with nimble fingers and have the privilege to call you his.

in another life maybe.

but for now he’ll just keep you his own little secret—a guilty pleasure he’ll indulge in because it’s hard to rid an addiction, especially if you don’t have the will to rid it in the first place.)

kaeya’s messed up this summer. he knows it in his soul that he’s made the wrong decision as he watches you babble about something as you lean against his bare chest, still basking in your own afterglow.

he knows that he should have resisted the temptation. as soon as he and the troops got back and he saw you sitting in a secluded corner at angel’s share he knew that his feelings for you hadn’t dissolved.

they say absence makes the heart grow fonder and kaeya only now knows this to be true because just the sight of you sends his mind into a frenzy. you could probably feel his gaze on you because you look up from the book you’re reading and make straight eye contact with him. for a second, he wants to turn away but then you smile at kaeya like you’ve never once forgotten him, and he’s putty. before he knows it, he’s buying you a drink and walking over to your little corner to make himself comfortable.

it’s a slow descent for him because in his head he knows he shouldn’t get too attached. he’ll leave again soon with the troops, and who knows maybe he’ll leave them behind one day too. his future has always looked so clouded to him, and he knows you belong in the sun. he’d like to leave you there in the light—avoid dragging you into his darkness.

so he tries to keep it simple, occasionally meeting you for a drink or catching up around the city. but then you’re showing him your favorite place to study near starfell lake and he’s showing you his favorite stars while laying on his back on starsnatch cliff. and he knows he can’t avoid it.

soon enough he’s giving into everything he said he wouldn’t, finally finding out what you taste like. finally knowing how his name sounds when it falls from your lips.

it's more addicting than he could've predicted, the feeling of your breath against his skin as you pant out his name. kaeya can't even bring himself to pull away from you to stop and think for a second. if he did then maybe he could slap some sense into himself and draw some distance because archons above he was digging himself deeper into this hole. but he can't, not when you're gripping his shoulders as he presses you against the wall of his bedroom, whining into his lips for all that he can give you.

and kaeya is nothing if not generous.

so he indulges both you and himself—the perfect mix of selfless and selfish as he guides you to his bed, nimble fingers loosening the ties of your clothing until you're bare in front of him. he can see the bashfulness settling into your cheeks and he almost feels like goading for just a minute, but he decides he'll be nice.

you've always deserved a nice guy anyway.

he tries to push that thought away, instead distracting himself with the heat of your body, his fingers dancing along your skin eagerly. maybe, just this one night, he can let it be about you two. he can afford to forget about all the old promises he's made—all the responsibilities and duties he devoted himself to a lifetime ago.

kaeya ignores the flush of heat crawling up his neck as he hovers over you, caging your body underneath his as you squirm in anticipation. he understands—the tightness in his pants is enough for him to feel the same. but he's not worried about that, not when his fingers part your thighs eagerly, brushing over heated skin and finding slick wetness there as he dips into your cunt. he hears the sharp intake of breath, the quiet restrained moan, and he preens. kaeya revels in the sounds he pulls from your lips as his fingers curl against your slick heat, your head lolling back against his pillows.

there's a possessive streak of something that cuts through him then—something that tells him how he aches to be the only one who gets to hear those sounds.

it makes him slightly sick.

kaeya realizes then—he's been quite stupid when it comes to you. he's kept the maelstrom of feelings brewing in his soul trapped under all his bravado, arrogant and cowardly all at once. he needs to tell you, needs to be honest because this isn't something he can trick his way out of.

but all he wants to do is run. run so far away from you because he doesn't want you to to get caught up in his own ruin. you're far too good for him, too sweet and carefree to be tainted by his sin-laden hands. he needs to run.

but he does none of that, not when he's guiding his fingers to the apex of your thighs and exploring territory he knows he shouldn't claim. because then you look at him with an expression so blissful—so thankful, relieved that he's giving you a part of himself he never wanted to—and he can't even be angry about it.

kaeya presses his lips to the swell of your chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart under your skin, and he shuts his eyes as he breathes out your name. you answer with a resounding mewl, catching his eyes even through the dark strands of his hair.

he then chooses to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt because archons do you look heavenly when your eyes roll back like that.

but it scares him, the way you leave him open and exposed and aching even when he doesn't want to be.

in his head you're perfect, all bright and glowing under him as you chant his name like he's some kind of savior. but kaeya isn't a savior—if anything he's destruction in human form, sent by the heavens to wreak havoc on those around him. he'd destroyed enough already—he doesn't think he can do it to you too.

but archons the way you're looking at him now, from under fluttering lashes and dewy eyes that shine even brighter when they're trained on him—begging, pleading, and oh so trusting of him and every thing he wants to give you. he can't even help himself.

"i know, sweet girl," he sighs, voice strained as you buck your hips just perfect—a temptress, sent to lead him to his doom. and yet he can't stop his fingers from pushing back your hair from your sweaty skin, knowing that he should be careful because he doesn't want to destroy something as fragile as this.

"kaeya please," your breath comes out in short desperate pants, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders haphazardly.

"i know," he repeats, reaching down to heft your thigh over his waist as he slots his hips against your own, biting back a groan at the sensitive brush against his cock—throbbing, aching, needy.

"ah fuck," he's almost shy at the way his voice shakes as he lines his cock up, the heat and slickness of your cunt a teasing caress against his sensitive head. he drops his forehead against your shoulder, breathing heavily even before he's inside you because something about this makes him so incredibly nervous. a single desperate whine and the soft squeeze of your fingers into his biceps and he's stilling—breath catching, heart pounding.

for a moment, he doesn't even feel like himself. he's not anything, no one.

and then he slides in and kaeya knows that there will never be anything better—another experience that would feel this right in his life.

he pulls out a little, gaze lingering at the sweat beading at your forehead, and something in his chest stutters. "okay?" he traces your face for any hint of hesitation—of the nervousness that he feels in his gut, but all he finds is a stormy mix of desire and devotion.

"uh huh," reassurance, stability—everything he isn't. his brows pinch, eyes shutting because he doesn't want you to know.

he's pulled out of the whirlwind that is his thoughts when he feels your fingers on his cheek, brushing over his skin gently. his eyes snap open, and even through the haze he can feel himself relaxing under your touch, because the way you're looking at him is so undeniably loving and it makes his stomach flip.

"you okay?" you whisper, looking up at him carefully, and kaeya feels as though you've put him between the halves of a microscope slide to analyze him.

"i'm fine," he breathes out, not a lie but not the whole truth either. "don't worry."

his words do little to quell you, but one roll of his hips has your eyes fluttering, a choked moan escaping your throat, and the sound makes his pride sing.

there's an image then—hazy and yet so obvious as his brain registers it. the implications behind it makes his stomach churn.

quiet smiles, hazy kisses, soft goodbyes—and then the inevitable distance as he crosses over the border separating your world from his. a lone figure standing in the streets of mondstadt, always waiting for him to come back. always disappointed.

you buck your hips upward, blissfully unaware of the torrent of conflicting emotions in his head. kaeya's brain short-circuits, and then he's pushing back, a steady rhythm against your gummy walls that takes the breath out of your lungs. you savor every thrust, punctuated by the sharp grunts he lets out against your throat.

your fingers rake over his back, desperate and needy and focused on one thing only—kaeya, kaeya, kaeya.

"that's it sweetheart," he doesn't have any more control—not on his mind, his body, his mouth. they've all escaped his grasp, too spurred on by you and everything you're willing to offer him.

"'s okay…ah fuck…it's okay," kaeya groans into the column of your throat, not sure whether he's telling you or himself. the clench of your walls sends him spiraling, hips picking up the pace as he pistons his cock in and out—trying to find out just how far he can go.

then he hits one spot, and his vigilant gaze catches the way your jaw slackens, eyes glazing over even as they roll back and a shaky moan escapes your throat—surprised, unexpecting. his ego jumps.

an experimental roll of his hips against the same spot and you make a sound so unhinged that he finds himself already addicted to it. and to tease is in his nature.

"yeah? right there?" he drawls, masking his anxiousness with his bravado once again.

"right there," you whimper, nodding meekly as you grip his shoulders. he huffs out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your eyelids like he's trying to kiss away the tears that have gathered there. you preen under his ministrations—it feels a little too domestic.

he understands. it scares him, but he understands. he wonders what the point of worrying is—wonders why he's letting his paranoid brain taint this moment that he'd been waiting for. the only solution left is to ignore it. because you're here, writhing underneath him in the throes of pleasure, vulnerable and trusting and just for him. he should give you what you deserve after all.

so kaeya pushes every other thought out of his head, only focused on you and making you feel good because that's what someone like you deserves—everything you desire laid at your feet.

he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, paired with a languid roll of his hips as he quietly groans. "okay…." his voice comes out an octave lower, pushed down by the barely concealed need for you. "okay sweet girl. i've got you."

another searing kiss as he breathes through his nose, picking up the pace again as he slams his cock into the spot that makes you see stars. your moans get louder even as they remain muffled against his lips, and kaeya can't help but dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh, leaving behind finger shaped dents in the plushy skin.

a claim—possessive, desperate, selfish.

your kisses become sloppier as kaeya leads you closer to the edge, walls clenching around the length of him, tighter with every thrust he delivers. the chants of his name have become almost reverent, and kaeya thinks his name couldn't possibly sound more beautiful than in that moment. he wonders if he could be blessed to hear it for the remainder of his life, and the thought sends pure unadulterated need through him.

his hips stutter, red hot fire coursing through his chilled veins—building, climbing, overwhelming as every sense goes fuzzy with heat. his grunts become more irregular, in time with the reckless thrusts of his cock as your cunt tightens around him greedily.

his cock twitches as you suck him in eagerly, feeling every ridge and vein as he grunts and groans and tightens his hold on you—unyielding, unrelenting, selfish.

your eyes stay locked on his even as your orgasm rips through you, and kaeya sees celestia in them—brighter than ever before. your muscles spasm, clenching almost painfully as you tremble and writhe underneath him, and he follows you to the doorstep of nirvana with a throaty groan. his hips stutter, twitching and throbbing as he pants out a broken chorus of your name and every praise that doesn't do you justice.

then he drops his forehead against yours, watching your eyelids flutter—celestial stars dim. a soft brush of your lips against his.

your muscles go lax, every guard dropped just for him—trust he realizes, trust he doesn't deserve. he doesn't know how to tell you that.

because even after everything—when you're curled up against his chest, skin warm and dewy against his own, he does not think about how he adores the feeling of your hair brushing against his arm, nor does he focus on the soft tickle of your breathing washing over him. instead he thinks about how he's ruined it all, how he's dragged you into him, and how he needs to let you go before he destroys you completely.

at the end of the summer, kaeya tells you he can’t.

“what are you talking about?” you ask him, a light chuckle escaping your lips as you barely focus on his words. your nose is buried in some medical text, and kaeya thinks that the universe is punishing him now by making him repeat himself.

“us. we shouldn’t have…” he sighs, shoulders dropping. “i mean, we should stop…seeing each other.”

he can practically feel the way his words pull your attention and when he looks up he sees the way your grip on the book has slackened. there’s panic settling in your eyes, mixed with a bit of confusion. a conflicted emotion runs across your face and kaeya’s fingers itch to touch you. “w-why?”

it’s a simple question and he should have no problem answering it, but he struggles to get the words out, his throat constricting uncomfortably. “it was fine in the summer, when i was back here with the troops. but now i’ll have to leave and-“

“so what?” you question, turning in your seat to face him completely. his eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, and he feels his heart squeezing.

“so-“ he gulps, head spinning as he tries to explain himself. he doesn’t even have a proper answer—he just knows that this is his only option. because there’s no way in hell he deserves this kind of comfort, this kind of happiness. “so i cant-“

“can’t what, kaeya?” you stress, voice going slightly higher and he only then sees the real fear in your expression.

he pauses, mulling over his words and the bitter taste they’re leaving in his mouth. he can feel the sting of your pleading stare, and he swallows hard. “can’t stay,” he finally answers, and he’s shocked at how miserable he sounds.

you look at him like he’s insane, and honestly he feels like he might be. you’re confused and rightfully so, because there are so many remnants of him left in your space, so clearly evident the impact he’s left on you.

“can’t or won’t?”

kaeya’s eyes snap up to yours, because the tremor in your voice sends a jolt of fear down to his stomach, churning and roiling until it makes him sick.

he regrets looking, because he can feel himself breaking then and there.

you’re looking at him with these shining eyes and he swears that he’s glimpses them again—the brightest stars he’s ever had the privilege of seeing. for a second he thinks the light of those stars might disappear because that’s what always happens. but they remain, glowing against the backdrop of your irises and he’s captivated all over again.

his plans to leave you in tears fly out the window then and there.

he’s reaching for your cheeks in less than a second, holding them delicately as he lets his thumbs brush over your teary lashes. there’s a reasonable bit of confusion in your face at his sudden change, but when he leans down to kiss you, you don’t protest, melting into him even though he’s so undeniably cold. kaeya doesn’t even realize he’s saying he loves you, choosing to murmur it against your lips because it’s not meant for anyone else to hear—just the two of you.

he remains there, in the quiet darkness of your room for the rest of the night, because he doesn’t want to leave your side even after he told himself he would.

and yes, he dreads tomorrow. he dreads tomorrow because he knows that he will have to choose between the comfortable home he’s found in you or the dark abyss that has swallowed his past.

he’s scared that the more he allows himself to fall into you, and the more he finds that your eyes are the ones that hold the stars of celestia, then the easier his choice will become.

he’s been chasing the stars for so long after all. now that he finally has them, why in teyvat would he let them go?

[wolfprincesszola]

"Do you want a kiss?" | 707 x Reader

I couldn't think of anything else for the summary because I wanted it to be vague. Have a first kiss scene that's so cute that it makes my teeth rot every time I read it. I smiled so much when I wrote it that people in my house started to ask me if I was texting an s/o (i'm single asf). If you are one of my irl mutuals who know about my obsession with 707, no, you don't see this. Scroll away. (candy fic just in time for halloween <3) ————– Summary: You offer Saeyoung a kiss and he gladly takes the opportunity.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Food (Chocolate), Light Swearing (only one) ————–

"Do you want a kiss?"

707 choked on the water he had been drinking, quickly putting the cup down and going to grab a napkin to wipe his mouth and the remnants of the water that had gotten on his clothes. His voice cracked as he turned to you with confusion, "What?"

"Are you alright?" You asked, staring at him with concern etched on your face.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me." 707 brushed it off as he joined you on the couch, "I must've just heard you wrong."

Yeah, that was it. His lovely, innocent girlfriend wouldn't have suggested for them to share your first kiss right then and there.

"Do you want a kiss?" You blinked innocently, enunciating the words so that 707 wouldn't misunderstand you again. "What did you hear?"

Nope. He heard you correctly.

"I heard you correctly, I guess. I'm sorry, that's just such an odd question to ask when I'm drinking water."

"Why?" You raised an eyebrow, "It's something that people normally ask."

707 couldn't help but question the people you had been hanging around and debating trying to take you away from you friends without knowing the full story. Who had been asking you to kiss them and would 707 be able to take them in a fight?

"I don't know. I just never thought that you would be the one to ask me that first. I guess I also thought that it'd be in a more romantic setting than this."

You raised an eyebrow before glancing around the room, "Sitting in the living room together domestically isn't romantic enough for you? I guess I could present it down on one knee too..."

"No, no! There's no need." 707 laughed nervously, stopping you from getting down on one knee, "This is fine. This is romantic enough already."

"Besides, not everything we do has to be romantic." You hummed, smiling at 707, "What are you so nervous about? It's just me asking you if you wanted one. It's okay to say no."

Why weren't you freaking out about this? Why were you treating this like nothing? Had you done this before? Was he ready to make the move? What if he was bad? What if he was horrible and then you wanted to dump him? What if he messed things up because he had agreed to a kiss? Was he overthinking this?

Looking at your nonchalant face, he definitely was.

"It's okay to say no, Saeyoung." You repeated, "You don't have to say yes to make me happy. I don't care either way."

"You don't?" 707 raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't the earliest stage of your relationship together as the two of you had been together for more than half a year already. However, you still had yet to do many things. It took you two almost three months to start holding hands even because of the anxiety 707 held and the inability to make a move you had. You two were fine with the slow pace you were going at though. It was nice and a fresh breath of air from the constant whirling of the rollercoaster life took you two on.

"Of course I don't. Why would I?"

"Well because I just assumed that you never had one before, so this would be as big of a deal for you as it is for me." 707 admitted, "Are you telling me you have?"

You stared at 707 as if he was insane, "Everyone I knew has had one, especially in your elementary school days. Don't tell me you've never had one."

"Of course I haven't! You know me. I mean, you're my first girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow, "What does that have to do with ever having a kiss?"

707 flushed, knowing that he had greatly assumed that if you had already had your first kiss, it had to have been from your previous boyfriend. 707 did not know a single thing about your ex, but wanted to strangle him for ruining the experience of you ever sharing your first kiss with 707. Great, you had officially turned 707 into a homicidal maniac, ready to kill anyone that got in the way of his relationship. "You're right, it doesn't."

"But you're serious about that? You've never had your first kiss?" You seemed appalled by the statement.

"No!"

"Somehow I doubt that."

"What? You think I'm so likeable that people are just lining up to give me kisses?" 707 accused you.

"Well, yeah! You're the Saeyoung Choi. You're my boyfriend. If I like you, that means that there had to have been several friends of yours that have offered you them." You scoffed, "I mean, I'm not very much of a likeable person and I still had people offer them to me."

"Did you take the offers?"

"Of course I did! It was free kisses. Why wouldn't I?"

"You whore!" 707 scoffed, amusement clearly sparkling his eyes with no malicious intent to the comment.

He was surprised though. For someone who seemed very new and innocent to the relationship idea just like he was, you sure had a lot of experience if you had kissed many people. 707 felt a little jealous at the fact that he wouldn't be your first kiss, although he knew that his thinking was silly. You were his and would always be his for as long as he cherished you. He didn't have to worry about you accepting anyone's offers to kiss anyone while you two were together. There was at least that.

"What? You're telling me you've always refused it when people have offered them to you? I completely doubt that's true." You examined 707 for body signals to show that he was lying.

"They've never offered them to me." 707 admitted, "Unfortunately."

"You never bought any either?"

"Why would I? The booths are just overpriced for something I know I'll experience in time."

"Weirdly poetic for something as small as a kiss." You smirked, "Would you like to try it now?"

His heart started to pound. Was this really happening? Was he really going to kiss you for the first time?

"More than anything." He breathed out as he stared at you. "I just...what if I mess up?"

"Mess up?" You raised an eyebrow, "I doubt you can mess up at this."

"Says who?"

"Says me, who has gotten plenty of kisses in the past!" You giggled.

"Well, I've never had one before, so I don't know what to do."

You stared at your boyfriend before exhaling in amusement, "Alright, fine. I'll help you out. Move your phone, I'm going to sit on your lap."

"O-oh, okay." 707 cleared his throat as he moved his phone, trying not to show his flushed face. You straddled him, your legs in between 707's as you were facing him. 707 wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off. "How do I do this?"

"Just relax and close your eyes." You instructed.

707 did just that, feeling the darkness comforting him. He really hoped that you couldn't hear just how loud his heart was pounding.

"Open your mouth."

707 let confusion wash over his face as he emphasized every word to make sure he knew what you were saying, "Open my mouth?"

"Open your mouth." Your voice remarked as he could hear crinkling of something.

"Why would that be beneficial in any way, Y/N?" 707's voice had raised from confusion all the way to bewilderedness.

"Just do it, babe, before I force your mouth open. That's the correct way." You remarked.

"Alright, alright." 707 sighed before letting his jaw open, feeling you move yourself closer to him and his mouth. There seemed to be no more sounds of crinkling as something--your fingers--brushed against his lips. His heartbeat fastened as he was waiting for your lips to close in on his.

Then, he tasted chocolate.

Sweet, creamy, and velvety chocolate. It had the same distinct taste that Hershey's chocolate kisses had.

Oh...that's what you meant. His eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, smiling.

"How is it?"

707 burst out laughing, pulling you close so that he could bury his face into your chest in embarrassment. "Oh my universe. Y/N, you're so innocently sweet. Just like this kiss."

"What?" You laughed, pushing 707 gently off of you so that you could look at his face, "What are you talking about?"

"I thought you were talking about an actual kiss, not a Hershey's. I've had plenty of chocolate kisses before." 707 brushed a hair out of your face as he waited for the recognition to hit you.

"Huh? Oh-OH!" Your eyes widened as you burst out laughing too. "Is that why you were so flustered and nervous?"

"What else was I supposed to think when you just randomly offered me that?"

"The treat! I didn't think you would think of that!"

"Clearly not." 707 gasped for air as he finally finished the chocolate in his mouth before he could choke on it. He cupped your cheeks, "My innocent, sweet girlfriend."

"Shut up." You huffed, "So you're telling me you've had a Hershey's kiss before?"

"Yes, plenty."

"But not a kiss on the lips?"

"Nope. I've never been offered that."

"Then...do you want a kiss?"

707 stared at you, wondering if you were truly offering it this time. His voice cracked as he tried to ask you to clarify, "What?"

"Do you want a kiss?" You remarked, enunciating things the same way you had asked in the beginning of the situation. "It's okay to say no, babe."

"No, I want it." 707 gave a small smile, "How do I do this?"

"Just close your eyes and this time, close your mouth." You giggled as you cupped 707's face. Your chest was pressed against his and he could practically hear your heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. His heart was pounding almost the same speed as yours.

707 slowly closed his eyes as you leaned in, fully shutting them when he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips brushed together before finally, you gently pressed your lips against each other and then pulled away.

You tasted like Hershey's chocolate kisses and strawberries. Your lips weren't chapped, but instead waxy as only moments before you offered him a kiss, he had watched you apply your signature strawberry chapstick. He hadn't realized how much he had wanted to know what it had tasted like and how it was like to be so close to your lips until the moment he had gotten a taste of you. Maybe that was why your chapstick never seemed to last you long. It would dry out in hopes that the chapstick would once again touch your lips, becoming addicted to that sensation. Now that 707 had gotten a taste of his own, he knew that it would become an addiction of his.

"Was that okay?" You asked as 707's eyes fluttered open, staring at his girlfriend that was facing him with anxiety written all over your face.

All 707 did was pull you closer to him with his arms still wrapped around your waist before having his right hand travel to pull you face closer to his. He crashed his lips onto yours as an answer, desperately wanting another taste of your lips, of you.

You returned the energy as your hands traveled from his face into his hair. 707 could not care less about how you were messing up his hairstyle when you had your fingers in his hair while you were kissing him. Those combined together made the top ten list of his favorite things you did in that moment.

When you two separated--albeit only because you two were humans that needed to breathe--you pressed your foreheads together, whispering a feisty remark, "You never answered my question."

707 couldn't help the smile that spread onto his face, "It was more than okay."

"Good."

You two stayed in quiet silence, enjoying each other's company. Even as you shifted off of 707's lap and onto the spot next to them, you took comfort in nestling closer to one another and holding each other.

The only thing that interrupted the silence was when you held out another chocolate kiss, "Do you want a kiss?"

"I'd love one." 707 replied as he pulled you closer to him for a kiss before grabbing the chocolate and popping it in his mouth. ————– If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and it's just two clicks of a button (trust me, likes don't do anything to help me). Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see what other fandoms I like to write for! :)

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 10.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You’d been sitting on the steps of the Otto house when the militia returned. Troy had been behind the wheel of the first truck and spotted you instantly as he came to a halt. His eyes never left your face as he stepped from the vehicle, barking orders at the men inside as he did so.

You stood, wiping your slightly sweaty hands on the cut off jeans you’d been given, glancing at where Mike was sat in the passenger seat of the truck avoiding your eyes (you had a feeling Troy had had a few choice words with him after the incident in the bunk’s shower) whilst another man you couldn’t remember the name of bundled someone out of the backseat.

You frowned as Troy reached you.

“You okay?” Troy asked, examining your face.

You nodded, forcing yourself to look at him and not at the strange sight at the truck.

“Of course. Sorry I didn’t want to worry you, I was just waiting for you get back.”

Troy hmm-ed in such a way that you knew he could tell there was something on your mind, but your decision to have a heart to heart was quickly being forgotten.

“Who is that?” You asked.

Troy glanced back over his shoulder as Mike and Blake led the stranger to the medical tent.

“Not sure yet. Maybe no one,” Troy said as he took your hand.

You weren’t sure what to make of his answer but as his fingers curled between yours you quickly felt your anxiety fading. The tension in your chest was also easing. It was a feeling like sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long, cold day. For a moment your entire being buzzed with the sense of relief at having your soulmate back with you.

Troy’s men filed by without a word. You realised it was odd for Troy to behave like this. Even though he’d been by your side at every moment he could when you’d returned to the ranch he hadn’t shown any kind of affection toward you in front of anyone else.

You’d tried not to overthink it and respected his need for space. It was still a big adjustment for you both, and a shock to everyone else as you’d came to understand.

You’d overheard people whispering sometimes, looking at Troy with an almost fearful expression. You assumed in his role as head of the militia he had to have a certain aura of authority to command respect and obedience. Perhaps that was why gestures like this weren’t in his nature, he couldn’t be soft when he had so many people relying on him for for protection.

Including you.

Guilt suddenly began to eat away at you. During your time at the ranch all you’d done was eat and hide away. Troy had followed your lead patiently, it was time to start giving something back as thanks for his understanding.

“I was waiting because I think it’s time I did something for this place. Contributed.”

Troy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment.

“Did Jake say you're ready because-“

“I’m fine,” you tried to reassure him with a smile and a squeeze of his hand, “I promise to take it easy at first. But I can’t be the only freeloader in this place.”

Troy’s eyes flashed.

“Did someone say something? My father?”

You shook your head.

“Everyone has been great,” if a little intense, you thought. “I just want to feel like I belong here.”

“You do,” Troy said almost too forcefully, “you belong with me.”

Your smile this time was genuine.

Troy began to relax and you let him lead you toward the bunk house before deciding you didn’t want to spend the rest of the day closed away.

“Can’t I stay with you?” You asked.

Troy shook his head, “Not until I get more intel on our newest arrival.”

“You think he’s dangerous?”

Troy’s shoulders were tense, his loose grip on your hand a giveaway that he was trying too hard to appear relaxed.

“I don’t trust strangers,” was all he said.

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh as Troy shot you a quizzical look.

“I’d never have guessed,” you teased. Troy scowled as he thought about how you’d met, how cruel he must have seemed to have sent you running off into the wild where he could’ve lost you for good.

You gave a playful tug of his hand.

“It’s okay, you know. Everything turned out okay.”

Troy didn’t reply but his scowl eased.

“Just promise me you’ll stay in the bunk house until I’m sure you’ll be safe.”

Worry nagged at you. If Troy was really so concerned then why bring the stranger back to the ranch at all?

As you reached the familiar door Troy spun to face you, pulling from your grip as he placed both hands gently on your arms instead. His hold was loose enough that you didn’t feel threatened by him, even as he towered over you, but you could sense the tension radiating from him.

“Just a few hours and I’ll be back. I promise.”

“In time for dinner?” You said. “We could eat with the others tonight. Together?”

You could tell his smile was strained as he promised to walk you from your bunk to the canteen. Your cheeks warmed a little as you spoke quietly.

"Like a date?"

Troy paused, torn between amusement and his sense of duty as he knew his brother would be waiting with questions. And his father, no doubt. He had brought home two stragglers this week and it had not put him in good stead with Big Otto so far.

"Like a date. Although I hope you don't expect flowers," Troy shot at you as he opened your door and ushered you inside.

You pretended to be disappointed as you said your goodbyes. Troy waited until you had closed your door and he heard the bolt slide shut before hastily making his way across the campsite. You watched him leave from the window, genuinely disappointed to see him go already but feeling happier at the thought of sharing a real meal with him that night. Perhaps even getting to know some of the militia a little better, since they were who Troy spent most of his time with. You could figure out the best way to contribute to the ranch once you'd sized everyone up and knew who would be the most tolerable to spend your days with.

Heading toward the shower room you decided to clean up as best you could before dinner, even picking out the cleanest clothes you had. They were nothing special, a pair of worn jeans that weren't stained and a light blue shirt made of soft cotton. You peered at yourself in the small mirror, already seeing how much better you were beginning to look after several days rest and proper food.

For the first time in weeks you allowed yourself to feel a small spark of happiness as you picked up your brush and began working it through your hair. Perhaps it was time to start believing in this place, in Troy... in a future.

XXX

He could hear raised voices before he'd even reached the medical tent. Troy braced himself as he swept aside the fabric that made up the entrance and set his jaw as his father's gaze fell to him.

"What in the holy hell were you thinking boy?" Jeremiah sneered at him.

Jake tried to sidestep his father, to put himself between him and his little brother as he had when they were children. But they were no longer children and Troy would not accept his brother treating him as such anymore.

"I was thinking he was already close to the ranch. He'd have come across us eventually." Troy said flatly, "Better to bring him in on our terms then have him sneak inside or turn out there."

Jeremiah scoffed, "Cooper already briefed me about your scouting mission today. One sickly man or lone undead is hardly a threat to us."

Troy hid his clenched fists behind his back. Of course the only person with higher rank when it came to the militia's intel was his father, he couldn't blame Cooper for telling Jeremiah what they had come across in the wastes if Jeremiah had asked, even if having him disobey his instructions did piss him off royally.

"I made a call," Troy shrugged. "You want him gone? I can take care of him now."

Jake began to dismiss Troy's words, insisting it wasn't necessary, whilst Troy and his father stared at each other. If Otto ordered him to shoot the man dead where he lay, cuffed and unconscious on his bed - the same bed you had lain in - Troy would do it.

His father sighed.

"It's a waste of resources. The man's on death's door."

Troy nodded, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. His clenched fist moved to the gun ever present at his side.

"You can't be serious?" Jake said, mouth agape as he watched his brother flick the safety off his weapon.

"Father's orders," Troy said, hearing his own voice as if from far away.

"This is... this is murder. The man isn't bit. He could live if we helped him!"

"And if he doesn't? What if we waste our medicine on a stranger, on one of the unprepared, what then Jake?" Jeremiah said almost tiredly.

Jake shook his head.

"We have plenty of medicine-"

"For now. We don't know what's going to happen, how long we will need to survive. We should prioritise our own."

Your name was on Troy's lips as he stopped himself asking why his father had allowed you to stay but not this man. You'd both been at death's door. Troy knew how his father felt about soulmates, a sentiment Troy had shared before meeting you and having everything his father had ever told him about the phenomena turned upside down. Had Jeremiah let you stay for him? It wasn't in his heart to show such kindness, or leniency.

It was a puzzle he was still pondering on.

His father seemed to know exactly what thoughts were plaguing his youngest son.

"Don't think I've forgotten about our other newest member just because she hides away in the bunkhouse all day."

"She' recovering-" Jake interjected before his father's raised hand silenced him.

"She's freeloading-"

"She's ready to work," Troy said louder than intended, a spark in his chest threatening to ignite at the way his father spoke of you. "She said so herself before I came here. She wants to earn her place."

Jeremiah's brows nearly disappeared beneath his hat.

"Is that so?"

Troy nodded as Jake looked exasperatedly between the two men.

"Then she can help me, here in the medical tent. I'll train her, we need more people with medical knowledge."

Troy found the suggestion agreeable. If he had to leave you with anyone his brother was a good choice. He knew Jake would watch over you when he couldn't.

"She can help me treat this man," Jake continued, "It's not a waste of resources if we're using him for training."

Jeremiah waved his hands in the air as if washing the pair of his sons from them. Troy could see the twitching of his fingers that said his father was missing the feel of a bottle between them. He tried not to smile at his brother's quick thinking.

"He's got until sundown tomorrow to show some sign of improving. If not, Troy will take care of him."

With that Jeremiah pushed past his children and exited the tent, leaving the brother's to stare at each in silence. Jake looked tiredly at the gun still in Troy's hand.

"You don't have to follow every order you know," he said almost bitterly.

Troy didn't respond. How easy it was for his big brother to judge him. They'd both suffered as children at their father's hands but Jake had always been the golden child. It was Troy who'd usually be the target of his father and mother's ire, no matter how hard he tried to please them.

He turned to leave as Jake called after him to send you to the tent in the morning. Troy would walk you before meeting with the militia to organise the next scouting mission at the border. He'd feel better knowing you'd be with Jake and not alone in the bunkhouse until he returned.

He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, feeling the knots mingled with dried blood. He still had time to clean up before dinner and turned to walk toward the main house. It was as his eyes fell on the set of steps you'd been sitting on when he'd returned earlier that he remembered the look on your face moments before your eyes had met his. You'd look deep in thought, as if preparing yourself for something and it had left a sense of dread in his gut as he'd stepped from the truck.

Troy was good at reading people. A skill he'd developed as a child to know where and when the next danger would come from. A blow to the face from his father in a drunken rage or words that cut as sharp as any knife from his mother as she ran out of drink and was forced to go through the tremors and sickness caused by the sobriety she rarely allowed herself to fall into.

He'd been too distracted by the dying man to question you further about your unusual venture from the bunkhouse, but he would be sure to get to the truth after he took some time to shower and rest.

[theflyindutchwoman]

Hello,

I can see lucy having a big undercover mission now that end up with her getting the golden ticket and that's how she will be able to be detective. I have nolan vibe from when he wanted to be TO. If anything this ep confirm for me lucy will be detective.

From what I've seen in the past 24 hours, you're not the only one who thinks that - or should I say, hope for this outcome. I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit on the fence with the Golden Ticket scenario. And this isn't a criticism towards you, Anon, or anyone who likes this idea by the way. It's just that, like you said, this is exactly what the writers did with Nolan so rehashing the same storyline with the same outcome feels kind of lazy to me. I also can't help but feel like she should already have gotten one by now if that were to happen. If taking down two major drug cartels on your first solo UC op, despite being mostly untrained, didn't warrant one, then how is she supposed to top that? She took down another major drug cartel and some very dangerous criminals on her second UC op and that still wasn't enough.

And even if she were to get one, I don't know if that would really solve the problem. We know that Nolan still had to take the TO exam first… So does that mean Lucy would have to retake the detective exam? Or since she technically passed, can she skip that part and directly get a spot? Cos in the first case, she would still have to face Primm… and somehow I doubt he would be any less vindictive. The second outcome sounds much better but if Primm administered the oral exam, I'm assuming that means he supervises that department, right? If that's the case, knowing that one of your superior has it for you isn't exactly an enviable working environment. She could win him over, of course. Or he could also disappear like the Union president who was after Nolan. Or I could completely be overthinking this! To be clear, I'm not entirely opposed to this idea either. If that means we get more Lucy as a badass, I'm in. Maybe she will be instrumental in apprehending the bad guy in the next episode (I'm trying to be vague here so I don't spoil too much) or the mastermind behind the attacks from the finale/premiere. I just wish that the Golden Ticket hadn't already been used in a similar fashion.

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 10

Chapter 10: Splitting Up

The hunt for Merasmus begins, with Scout and Spy left to hold down the base. They’ll be fine… right?

TW: Heavy angst. Spy is not in fact okay.

Ms Pauling briefed the team on a Merasmus lead. She said he mighta been training up in the Appalachian mountains to ruin Soldier and Zhanna’s wedding. She told Scout and Spy to stay at base, so someone could guard it while the others went after him.

Jeremy was glad that Soldier and Pyro weren’t staying at base; he’da been left to baby sit them alone, with Spy not feeling right and being new. Then again, this was a real threat to Soldier, so he wouldn’t have stayed put at base anyway. It looked like he was really taking this seriously, as far as Scout could tell.

Spy looked stiff for the whole briefing. Angry even. But Scout figured he was just on edge because of last night’s nightmare.

—————————

Heavy was glad that Pauling didn't waste any time. Zhanna was new to America and the most naive of his sisters. He could only hope that her training was real and useful to her.

He didn’t like her marrying Solider, but had to respect the man for wanting to protect her. And for trusting in her strength as well. Soldier was impatient to start the mission one he heard the briefing.

Heavy also wanted to avenge Spy, not just his sister. If that curse had not hit Spy, he may have already fixed things with Scout. At the least, the team boy would not have been so sleepless and ill with bottled tears.

It was time for answers. They packed up swiftly and got ready for one last stop on the way.

—————————

Spy and Scout were in no condition to go on this hunt, even if they could’a known the truth. Engineer couldn’t bear to leave Pyro in their care with everything goin on. He knew that if Pyro had to withhold fire, he’d be a much bigger threat to Merasmus when he was finally found. And Soldier was already ruthlessly ready.

The plan was to look for Merasmus and take any help or clues from the other magic users. Once they found their evil old wizard, they’d trap him for Pauling so she could question him.

They had Soldier call up Zhanna and the Holy Wizards to assist. Bein Merasmus’ Halloween playthings, they needed all the magical assistance they could get.

—————————-

Demoman and Sniper talked to Pauling in the ship. Sniper had also noticed Spy acting strange around her, and wondered if it was connected to that terrible nightmare. “The lad looked fierce the first time, but I was the only one who saw. Thought it was the scrumpy playin tricks on me eye.”

“He was like that at today’s briefing too. Not sure if theah’s something he hated Helen for, or if it’s just the nightmare problem.” They had to be vague with Soldier, Pyro, and Zhanna in the ship.

“I thought he sounded off, but you know how much I overthink. I just assumed it was me overthinking last time.” Pauling said. “The sooner we get Merasmus locked eway, the better. So we can puzzle out what to do.” “I agree. You guys have a battle put on hold until you get back, but after that we should investigate.”

——————————-

Medic kept a wide expanse between himself and the wizards. He wasn’t sure if they could sense his dealings with the Devil, but the way they were talking about the dark arts, he didn’t need them finding out. They focused on healing and growth spells, like planting new forests and healing herbs.

It was a bit surprising that they got along with Soldier so well, but nobody was complaining. They said that the Appalachians were enchanted to allow wizards to train and experiment without interruption. The practice was put into place during an uneasy peace between holy and dark magic users.

It was better to bring them along and risk his deal getting screwed up, than to get cursed or lost in the enchanted mountains. Soldier’s strange habit of attracting magic was coming in handy for once.

————————-

Heavy was surprised that the white wizards trusted Soldier to wander in the woods; when they got out of the ship, none of the magic users took issue with Soldier’s erratic behavior. Here he seemed to move with unexpected smoothness, as if he knew the land well.

Zhanna had been training under these men, so perhaps Soldier had learned how to act through her. Though Heavy didn’t notice too much difference in how the man was acting now. Pyro was being closely watched now that it was established he was not permitted to set the forest ablaze. Doktor was acting strange, like he was uncomfortable with the wizards being there.

The magic allowed them to travel undisturbed through wizard trails, hidden from that one BLU Scout and the other local people. Strange plants and animals were all around them, many of them being pleasant smelling and beautiful. Zhanna said she had been growing some of these flowers and vines for the wedding, and the wizards were making new hybrid plants for the desert.

The wizard with two points in his beard explained that the dark faction was very likely to kill unsuspecting locals for venturing too close to their lairs. The hidden trail magic and enchanted eerie feeling in this place was created by the light faction, to remove any excuse for such murders. It was accepted by the evil wizards for providing them privacy when they didn’t want to see non-magicians.

It also meant that they must be careful not to attack random creatures, in case they belonged to someone bloodthirsty. Only if they were attacked first, and the wizard magic failed them. Heavy was worried that Soldier would not follow that rule, but he was surprisingly unbothered by the magic birds and little creatures. He didn’t lash out to attack like anyone thought he would.

————————

Soldier jumped back as something huge ran across the path, growling. It was a giant raccoon, the size of an elephant. It looked like it was going to attack, but stopped. Doe swore he’d seen this one before. No, that didn’t-

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the newly-weds.” Merasmus. Merasmus could bring things back to life. But Lieutenant bites and the other raccoons didn’t leave behind bodies, how could he have done this?

“Thought it was a shame to waste these savage little animals after you dodged my magic.” The wizard smirked. “Attack if you wish, it’ll only hurt them and you.” *******! He was using Soldier’s friends as a meat-shield! Doe couldn’t fight his raccoons like the other monsters, and they would not attack him. He didn’t know how to get back at Merasmus this time.

He stared out at the other wizards, looking bored and annoyed. “Stay out of this, goody-goodies. This man killed my innocent roommate and destroyed my lair many times. You’re on the wrong side.”

Soldier knew the other mercenaries weren't really on his side right now, but they cared about Zhanna. Everyone knew he was dumb, they just assumed he was too dumb to see how they looked at him. It had always been like that, with other kids, and teachers, and orphanage people. He didn’t know what the white wizards would do if they agreed with Merasmus. For once, he didn’t yell anything.

“Did you ever explain your rules?” Spice wizard asked. Merasmus looked annoyed. “What was there to explain? We were in a lair with normal human furniture, it’s not like I asked him to do magic. Any person should have had common sense-“ The white wizards launched magic at the raccoons that turned them back to normal. Lieutenant Bites jumped on Doe and bit him, his way of saying hello.

“I missed you too, Bites.” He choked out. The other raccoons abandoned Merasmus too, sitting next to the wizards and mercenaries without trouble. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Do you know what he’s like?!”

“Yes”. Said the tea wizard with the two tailed beard. “And I also know he’s a feral child Merasmus. And you know that common sense is not the same to them.” Zhanna stepped forward. “Did he kill Tom Jones before you threatened to kill everyone he loves?” Merasmus grumbled. “No..” Zhanna shrugged. “Then it vas returning favor, I think.”

“I forgot about that!” Demoman said. Soldier turned to look, and the whole team seemed just as surprised as Demo. “Come to think of it, yeah! Ye the one who be cursin us all each Halloween. Been doin that fer far longer than ye lived with Jones.”

It was times like this that Doe remembered Zhanna really understood him. Sometimes he worried that she would get fed up with him like everyone else, but right now he knew she wouldn’t. And the wizards didn’t get fed up with him, and the other men were trying to understand. Things were not so bad.

“Merasmus.” The old wizard general growled. “Did you target this man’s team over a death, or over property damage?”

————————

The necromancer started to stutter, sensing that the Holy wizards had turned against him. Medic knew they had to be stronger than him, in numbers alone. They joined hands with each other and Heavy’s sister, and started chanting.

The oldest wizard with the longest beard continued to talk. “Merasmus. By order of the Holy Herbologists, thou art sealed in these mountains forever! No more will you torment non-wizards in this or any other place with thy magic.” Some kind of glowing lock appeared on the necromancer, before disappearing.

“What?! What is the meaning of this, high master?” The wizard with the goatee and the sass piped up. “Well, since you decided to live in the desert amongst non-magicians, you caused conflict with this Soldier and his friends. This place is free to both Holy and Evil wizards to separate from the normal folk of this world, but you didn’t use it. It stands to reason that your travel privileges should be taken.”

Another wizard turned to everyone. “Even if he goes into the local towns, he’s blocked from using magic on the people there. So don’t worry, the civilians are safe too.”

—————————-

“Will he be able to wander very far?” Engineer asked. They would need to come back to get more answers if he wasn’t mistaken. “No, he’s locked into a certain acreage so we can monitor things. Why, is something else going on?”

Engineer whispered an explanation, apologizing for the secrecy before. They couldn’t tell all of the teammates.

“A dark de-aging spell and cruel nightmare… I’ve heard of this spell. In animals, it is not so difficult to undo, but when a human is cursed, only going through their life’s memories in order can reverse it. Your teammate needs to look through his old things, pictures, letters, anything like that.” Engineer frowned, and so did Heavy, who was listening too.

”Zhis Spy on our team, he is very private. And some of that is our fault for teasing him.” Engineer wasn’t surprised that Heavy regretted that camera prank. He wouldn’t be surprised if Medic did too. “Ve do not know vhere his things are, to help him.”

Soldier and Zhanna were chatting with each other romantically and noticed them all huddled to speak privately. “What’s going on?” “Wedding surprises.” They said in unison. That was enough to send the lovebirds on their merry way, thankfully. “I’m sorry, without something to remind him of his life in order, there’s no way to undo this curse. Many have looked for another cure, but it doesn’t exist.”

————————

Back in the ship on the way home, Soldier, Zhanna and Pyro had fallen asleep. Pyro had been allowed to burn something to calm his nerves of course. Heavy asked the wizards what a feral child was.

The answer surprised him. Apparently through Soldier and Zhanna, the wizards had learned that he was raised by feral raccoons. They said that he was not permitted to join the American military because of this feral nature.

“Some of these lost children are unable to adjust to civilization. They were taught the common sense of wild creatures in nature, human common sense doesn’t pair well with it.” The elder wizard explained. “But in any case, Holy wizards often meet this children, at a higher rate than normal humans. Merasmus is more than aware of the signs that someone is a feral child, but in all these years he did not report it. He chose revenge instead.”

Heavy was glad to know this, before he became even more disapproving of the marriage. They had all wondered why the soldier was so strange, and now they knew. They could get help from these wizards to make the base understandable to him, and Zhanna thankfully already knew. Things were finally starting to look up.

——————————

Scout really needed to talk to the other teammates in private. He wished they were back, Spy needed their help bad.

It started out weird but harmless enough. Spy looked off at nothing, wandering the halls and staring out windows for no reason. Jeremy wasn’t good at talkin about feelings, and he didn’t know what to say about Spy’s nightmare from the night before. But after a whole day of Spy acting really weird, he decided to check up on him.

Nobody was here to make fun of him for being weak, and nobody would have anyway. He was starting to wonder how much his brothers had ****ed up his brain, for him to be hesitatin in the empty base.

He visited new Spy in the smoking room that night. He was just sitting there, looking into the fire. His revolver was on the side table, but the barrel was open and clearly emptied of bullets. Spy was smoking a cigarette and holding a glass of wine. When he heard the door and Scout’s footsteps, he lifted the glass and looked in the reflection on it.

“Oh, hello. I was not expecting you.” Spy said, turning suddenly. This was wrong. Nobody else was there, he shouldn’t have been checking visitors with a wine glass either way. “Heh. Whaddya mean? We’re the only ones here right now…” There was something wrong in Spy’s eyes, but he couldn’t place it. Jeremy was getting another nasty gut feelin.

“You are a nice person, desert Scout.” He nodded once, still feeling uneasy. “Please close the door.” Jeremy did and looked around. “What’s wrong? Did a BLU Spy get in?” “No. Not BLU. Something worse, but I cannot say.”

“Spy, what’s goin on?” Jeremy asked. Spy went real quiet for a minute, too quiet. When he did look at him, he didn’t look right. “I’m going to die soon. That helicopter, it was no accident.” The room was warm from the fire, but Scout froze and felt a chill run down his spine. He hurried and sat down in a chair across from Spy.

“Someone’s after you? Who?” New Spy shook his head. “I cannot tell you.” “Well, I can’t sit back and ignore this. Who?” Spy stared into his drink, chugged it, and tried to shrug. “I had a false identity in Canada. Secret agent, their CIA. I came to RED when they got close to finding me out, to tracking me.” He stared at the fire.

“It seems they’ve found me.” Scout wasn’t the smartest, but that explanation was too simple, and too fast. Spy didn’t hesitate like when he talked about his kid. There had to be more to it than that. “What can I do to help?” “Let it happen. Don’t get involved, or you’ll be in danger too.”

“Hell no! Listen Spy- nobody in their right mind would cross Admin like that, and the others..” The others weren’t there. Spy thought he was getting silenced tonight. Jeremy didn’t know much about Canada, but he sure hadn’t heard of a Mob up there. He didn’t like this one bit.

“Admin… would prefer not to get involved. No use losing good mercenaries like you over me. So please…” Spy looked at him. “You must not try to stop it. This is why I did not want to say, I knew you’d want to.”

“I can’t do nothing, Spy. Listen, why don’t we just go to the camera room with some food and lock the door? Bring our guns, keep watch on the base… We can wait this out until the others get back and it’s too hard to target you again.” Spy didn’t look hopeful at all.

“When I.. When I die.” He pulled out a sealed envelope. “Give this to the Administrator. But don’t read it yourself, she wouldn’t like that.” Scout thankfully had two words to try to read in the fire-light. Divorce Papers.

“My ex… I want her to get my money when I’m gone. And I want Admin know that she was uninvolved in this matter, so she can tell the Canadians to stop at me.” He put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Remember, whatever happens, my ex didn’t know anything.”

Scout stayed posted outside the smoking room all night. He didn’t know whether Spy was having another episode, or if this was real. And he wasn’t gonna take chances. The others had to know when they got back, the minute he could pull them aside and explain. This wasn’t right whether it was real or not.

Spy had been hesitant to talk about his kid. His ex had a two year old. They were in danger, and Jeremy was smart enough to know it. He didn’t believe that Canada story, Spy musta gotten in trouble with the mob or somethin. Somebody who was actually bloodthirsty, either way.

Scout had never heard of the mob infiltrating the Gravel War. The old Admin was too scary even for them. But Pauling was in charge now… they might have gotten the idea that it would fly with her in charge. Maybe Spy was a basket case, but somehow, Jeremy doubted it.

All he knew was that something was wrong, and the others needed to get back already.

[lemurzsquad]

Music to Owl Ears (Ch 1)

Ch 1: Jogging Laps

Pairing: Bokuto x musician fem!reader

Summary: After being knocked over, your morning is hijacked by the pair of students responsible, and your mind is jogging laps trying to figure out one question: What in the world just happened?

A/N: I have once again been dragged along by my own story, I have no control of what happens lol

In all seriousness tho, I was not expecting some of this stuff to happen right off the bat, but we're going with it. Also, this is NOT going to be a love triangle---Akaashi is a very important character, but I am not adding him to the romance problems TvT he just got a surprising amount of attention this chapter

I hope you enjoy!! And please read the prologue if you haven't! (It's essentially the actual Ch 1 lol)

Word count: 1510

cw: overthinking, some jealousy, rambling

"Bold for English"

"Not bold for Japanese"

- Masterlist -

< Prologue | Ch 1: Jogging Laps | Ch 2: Lunch Break >

Your first day of school turned out… interesting, to say the least. Chaotic may have been a better word—maybe hectic. Or perhaps unexpected and eventful were more accurate. Confusing? Not quite, save for the lingering question of how you got to this point in the back of your mind.

You found yourself at your assigned desk, running through English synonyms for your experiences that day and trying to think of Japanese synonyms in the process. Your teacher was running through class expectations for the year that you only vaguely listened to but never fully locked your attention on. It wasn't intentional; your mind was simply jogging laps to process what had happened that morning.

You recalled the course of events once more, attempting to grasp some sort of understanding of the question that ran through your head over and over: What in the world just happened?

After you had been pulled to your feet, eyes wide and taken aback, you finally got a good look at the person who you assumed had knocked you over—and you could immediately tell how that happened. He towered over you, still holding on and moving you around slightly to inspect for any signs of injury. From the way he had picked you up with such ease, you gathered he was pretty well built under his partially disheveled uniform. His hair was two-toned in black and silver and slicked back into what you would describe as spiky owl ears—the thought almost made you chuckle, but you kept it to yourself.

You glanced over to the left in the direction of his friend. His stature was not quite as tall or nearly as visibly brawny, and he was much more put together. He gave you a very brief look of sympathy and apology that you barely caught before your eyes turned back.

The one still holding you by the shoulders finally spoke a coherent, complete sentence that wasn't some broken variation of “Are you okay? I'm so sorry!” When he deduced you had not sustained any wounds due to his carelessness, he said, “I'm so stupid, I'm sorry. Glad you're not hurt, though!” He gave you a grin, one that was somewhere between sheepish, apologetic, and lighthearted.

“I told you, you should have been paying attention,” his black-haired friend interjected dryly. “You might want to let her go, though.”

Something seemed to click beneath his owl ears that reminded him he was still clinging to you. He pulled his hands back finally, chuckling as he scratched the back of his head. You smiled and sniffled whatever remains of your previous tears were left.

“It's no worries,” you reassured. “I should have been paying attention, too, but I didn't know where I was going.”

“Oh, are you new? A transfer student, maybe?” The shorter of the two asked while his companion went to pick up your bag and hand it back to you.

“Was it that obvious?” You joked, brushing off the remaining dust, pebbles, and strays bits of grass from your uniform. You tried your best to straighten out your outfit—the first uniform you'd ever had to wear to school before—before slinging your bag back over your shoulder and across your body.

The one to the left tilted his head slightly, replying, “Well, you were speaking English earlier, so I just took a guess.”

“And you have a strong accent,” his friend interrupted. He grinned brightly and held out his hand, unexpectedly blurting out, “I'm Bokuto Koutarou, by the way!”

You probably would have shook his hand if you didn't get distracted by your own thoughts. “Bokuto's your… surname, right? Last name, first name, I think. Sorry, I haven't met many people since I got here even though it's been a couple weeks,” you rambled. “Also, sorry if I get anything wrong, I'm kind of new to this whole ‘being in Japan’ thing.” You gesture with your hands as you speak, using your fingers as quotation marks near the end.

Bokuto laughed lightheartedly, and his friend almost joined him. “Don't worry, you are doing okay,” he said—to your surprise—in English. It was a bit stiff, but you could understand it just fine—it was about as good as your Japanese. You turned to him, the faucet of your thoughts running out of your mouth quickly closed, and your jaw hung open. “My name is Akaashi Keiji. You can just call me Akaashi,” he added.

For some reason, his words seemed to hit you right in the chest. Maybe it was because he went through the effort to say them in your own language, or maybe it was because you were still emotional and unsure of how living in Japan would go. A couple of subtle deep breaths were enough to stop the tears threatening to well.

“My name is Y/n– I mean, L/n Y/n,” you replied, making sure to correct yourself. “Please just call me Y/n, I'd feel weird being called by my last name.” You held out your hand with a hopeful smile, shaking their hands in turn. I have no idea why I just did that, you thought in reference to the handshake. That felt way too formal.

You shook your head softly at your own thoughts before continuing, “It's nice to meet you, Akaashi and… Bokuto.” You took a guess in calling him that, not entirely sure which name to use. You were already uncertain if you were being impolite, but the wide grin you got in return told you it was fine.

The whole situation went by in a blur to the point you almost had to ignore your own awkwardness, finding yourself just trying to form sentences. It somehow made you both anxious and relieved by having to focus solely on the conversation. There was no time to think about how or why the conversation was happening in the first place.

You briefly pulled out your phone, and your heart leapt in your chest when you saw the time. School would be starting in seven minutes. “Oh no, I have no idea how to get to class—” You looked between Bokuto and Akaashi, the panic of unfamiliarity rising in you once again.

When you asked if they knew the way when you mentioned your class, Bokuto piped up, “That's on the way to my class! You should totally come with me, I can show you where it is!” Before you could give any sort of answer, grabbed you by the arm and started to almost race into the building.

You had just enough time to wave at Akaashi and for him to see the flustered, stunned look on your face. He shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets and heading to class at a much more leisurely pace—he didn't bother trying to catch up. He had the sneaking suspicion that this year was about to be a very entertaining one.

Bokuto had dragged you a good while before you had managed to get him to slow down, saying you couldn't tell where you were going and needed to commit it to memory. Eventually, you had made it to your class. You found it odd that the classroom was just open with no teacher inside. You had glanced around, confused, but didn't bother asking about it.

In the time it took to get to where you needed to go, it was evident that Bokuto was fairly popular. He had loudly greeted people along the way with a shining smile and enthusiastic waves.

A feeling started to eat away at you—a guilty emotion that brewed of envy, discomfort, and something else you couldn't quite place. You were grateful that he had shown you around, but a nagging in your mind told you it was just to make up for his first impression. And seeing him so carefree and able to talk to people so casually made you infinitely more aware of your standing. The realization that he may have been that comfortable due to years of enrollment at the school didn't make you feel any better.

You now sat at the back of the class, running through the busy morning once more. You wondered mindlessly if you would ever run into Akaashi and Bokuto again as you listened to your teacher. You hadn't greeted anyone or introduced yourself; you knew you should have if you wanted to make friends, but the thought alone made you start to feel nervous.

It was too early to be coming to the conclusion that, in reality, you knew you weren't going to go out of your way to make friends, but you couldn't help it.

The bell that signaled lunch rang just out of your current sphere of focus.

And just as you started to get fully immersed into your spiraling reasoning and excuses, jogging laps in your mind with an ever-increasing speed, a voice pierced through your protective, self-destructive bubble, loud and clear.

“HEY, HEY, HEY!! Y/N!”

It would seem that you didn't have a choice on that friendship front.

Thank you for reading!! <333

- Masterlist -

< Prologue | Ch 1: Jogging Laps | Ch 2: Lunch Break >

Do not copy and/or repost!! Any likes, comments, or reblogs are appreciated, though! (c) 2024 LemurzSquad

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part three) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1, 2

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: internet stalking, innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), vague mention of one night stands, low self-worth, a little angst, loneliness, imposter syndrome, cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Enjoy :))]]

Richie was not delusional. Stupid, yeah. But delusional? If anything, he was oblivious.

If someone was into him, he knew fuck all about it.

That being said, what he was doing now was not delusional. It was stupid. And Richie knew that just to clarify.

He was up too late again, and he'd say he was bored. But he was mostly kind of curious.

Sometimes he stayed up scrolling through his Instagram feed, usually sort of wistfully. He scrolled through a lot of the couples tags, mostly because he hated himself. And then he had a thought, a spare thought.

of course you are fuckface

Right. That happened.

He shouldn't be as affected by it as he is, but he guesses he can't control that. And so maybe he had the thought: are you handsome, Eds?

You know, it feels better when it's from someone fucking hot, right? So, he got curious. And Richie did stupid shit when he got curious.

With unsteady hands he went to his page, a public one (although, if he dug, he was pretty sure he'd find an old one), and simply clicked on his followers. That was the thing about Instagram, you could search through your followers. Which in retrospect, felt a little creepy.

And conveniently, he had his username. Or well, he wasn't so sure of the last name but he remembers the 'ka'. Or maybe that wasn't his last name-

"Beep, beep, Richie," he muttered to himself, before clicking the bar and typing.

'Eddie'

Naturally, there were a lot of Eddies that followed him. He wasn't exactly unpopular on Instagram, although, he was a lot more popular on Twitch.

Social media kind of went hand-in-hand, Richie learned. If somebody followed you on Twitch, they might want to follow you on Instagram, if they follow you on Instagram, they might want to subscribe to you on Youtube-

Focus, Richie, he cleared his mind and started typing again.

'Eddie Ka'

eddie.bellie || ✨️fairy dust✨️ Bell

eddie.kal || Kalee is here

e.kaspbrak || Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie blinked, That one. I recognize that name. Before he could think about it too much, he clicked through to the profile.

Eddie Kaspbrak (he/him)

I like cars 🚘 and know what I'm talking about so you better fucking listen NY 21

Follow back || Message || +👤

Richie's eyes moved ahead of his judgment, as he spotted a photo of him. Or what he could guess to be, it was kind of small but Richie could see it was a guy.

Before he could overthink it, he pressed the post.

His heart halted in his chest.

What the fuck, his brain chanted, he's beautiful what the fuck-

Eddie (or what he assumed to be Eddie) was grinning, the kind that crinkled at his eyes and shriveled up his nose. Richie wondered if he always smiled like that, or if this was special. His eyes slid across the bridge of his nose, spotting fucking freckles of all things, freckles-

He felt a little like he might spontaneously combust. Maybe in a fiery flame.

He thought I was handsome? Him? Holy shit-

Richie paused, flickering through the comments, and eyes landing on one in particular. Two, actually.

mike.me.up✔️: so good to see you happy man ❤️

benny.boy.official✔️: just remember you deserve everything good !!!

What the fuck? He thought to himself, How old is this post?

Checking the date, he recognized it to be about a year ago. In doing so, though, his eyes caught on the caption and he faltered slightly.

"To all those people who said I couldn't do it," he read, carefully, "-fuck you. Look at me now."

Richie bit at his lip, his finger swiped to the next one on the post. It was him again, carefully holding what looked to be a milkshake; if Richie looked closely enough, he thought he might be at a diner. He wasn't smiling as big this time, but more preoccupied with something else -entranced. Richie felt a little like he was floating then. Had he ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life?

Speaking of, when had he ever called someone fucking beautiful? God, he was so fucked.

Before he could stop it, he was scrolling through his entire feed. He'd gotten off mostly without a hitch, just until he was looking at the most recent one.

It was Eddie again, but he was working on a car. Smudges of oil slipped across his face (he really looked like he hated it), and in those cute jumpsuits that mechanics wore, Richie felt a little confused about whether it was hot or cute. He was thinking maybe both.

He's not entirely sure how it happened, but he thinks he thought the newest post might be a carousel. (Where there is more than one picture.) Well, it decidedly was not. And when he tried to flick through them, his phone decided to register it as a double tap.

Richie blinked, once and then twice. Pink heart filling his thoughts while the entirety of his brain flatlined.

"Shit," he suddenly chimed, pushing himself off the bed slightly in panic, "-shit, shit, shit. I just have to-"

He clicked the heart again, and the like promptly disappeared. Richie let out a heavy sigh of relief and threw himself back on the bed. Fucking stupid.

It was probably quick enough Eddie wouldn't even notice it. There's nothing to worry about, yeah. (At least that's what he'll tell himself.)

It was, what, 6 am in New York right now? What self-respecting human being would be up at 6 am-

One message request from e.kaspbrak

Shit.

Richie stared at it for a few seconds.

Maybe like he'd blink and it would go away. He could totally be hallucinating, absolutely. Doesn't lack of sleep do that to you? Or maybe he could just be a dick and not look? There's a lot of message requests that he has, half from bots and half from fans (some weirder than others, let's be honest). He could just say he missed it? Maybe? He didn't owe it to Eddie to respond.

Something was crawling up his throat though, that picture running through his mind. And that message. God, he was just a subscriber, why the fuck was he like this? He'd definitely have to tell this to Steve (his therapist)-

Fluidly, Richie went to his messages. He skimmed some new ones in his primary (mostly friends sending him memes or his mods checking in). And then, with a breath, he clicked on requests.

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

He laughed, mostly because it seemed really in character for what he knew of Eddie. Which, in retrospect, was not much. Enough to apparently make him curious though. Something swirled in him that the man messaging him was the same in the picture -fucking beautiful. Of all ways to describe someone, that's what his brain settled on. God, he really was gay-

Richie debated a few answers for a moment. His mind spiraling, anxiety twisting his stomach so violently that he might throw up. Will probably throw up, actually, he did that a lot when he was nervous-

e.kaspbrak

Aren't you in California?

What are you doing up at 3 am?

Okay, that was not the thing he expected him to comment on first. But, turns out, Eddie was full of surprises.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what are u doing up at 6 am spaghetti

no one wakes up that early

e.kaspbrak

All types of people get up at 6 am dipshit.

You ever heard of a job?

He laughed again and realized he was really fucked up for thinking someone berating him was funny. But then, he got kind of curious. Eddie knew stuff about him. And he kinda... wanted to know things about Eddie. Pathetically.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u have a job eds ??? r u a chef?

bc spaghetti, u get it?

e.kaspbrak

Are you seriously sticking to that one? Fucking spaghetti?

You're a dumbass.

And yeah of course I pay to watch your dumbass, don't I?

He pursed his lips a second, did he not want to tell him? Even still, he waited a second, watching the bubble for a moment.

e.kaspbrak

I'm a barista.

I fucking hate it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe eds in a cute lil apron

i used to work customer service it was hell

And then he paused, thinking. Richie carefully added to the message something more genuine like he was testing the waters. Seeing what he could get away with, without seeming like a creep.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what do u wanna be ?

if u could choose

There was a pause, and suddenly Richie felt incredibly stupid. What the fuck was he doing? Texting someone in chat? Because they called him handsome? Well, he was funny. So, he probably added that to the motivation too.

He had no idea why he was even here, doing this. It just felt... He felt fucking pulled in, and he got curious. But maybe he really was just being stupid-

e.kaspbrak

A mechanic.

And the apron isn't cute, it's nasty as shit after every shift.

His fingers moved before he could stop them. He really was never good at controlling himself, ever.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

who said it was the apron spaghetti ? 😉

Richie stared at the sent message for too long. Maybe hating himself a little bit more, because he was too much. And he couldn't always reel himself back-

e.kaspbrak

You did dipshit. Do you have the memory of a fucking goldfish?

That would actually explain a lot in your streams.

Richie paused -waiting for the other shoe to drop.

e.kaspbrak

And thanks.

You would make a good Eric. Even if you think you wouldn't, fuckwad.

Okay, he thought to himself -maybe grinning a little, not too much. Something unfurling in his chest that felt put away a long fucking time ago. (Maybe a few years, but that was nearly as dramatic enough for Richie Tozier.)

He smiled, maybe a little cheesily bright but that was between him and his apartment walls.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

thanks eds

and i do

it's called adhd

And then he paused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

and i think you would make a good mechanic

e.kaspbrak

How? You probably don't even know shit about cars.

Do you even remember to change your oil?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u are supposed to change that ?

Richie watched as the bubble started up, almost immediately. It made him laugh a little.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just kidding spaghetti

relax

e.kaspbrak

You're such a shithead.

And don't call me that.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

yeah uh no

that's sticking sorry eds

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you dickweed.

And Richie laughed again. Alone, in his apartment, at 3 am. He laughed at a guy in his Instagram DMs.

God, he was so fucked.

e.kaspbrak

It's almost 4 am in California right now.

You need to go to fucking sleep.

Do you know how much not sleeping fucks you up?

It can literally fuck up your brain function and you can't fucking afford that. Yours barely functions as is.

Richie laughed again, and he was kind of thankful nobody lived with him for once. How was he supposed to explain himself? He had no fucking clue.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe spaghetti cares about me 🥺

and my brain 🥺

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you.

Go to sleep.

There was a pause, and he thought for a second he might leave it there.

e.kaspbrak

See you at your stream when you wake up.

Something in him softened, and maybe for once he was excited to sleep. His brain felt a little quieter, more manageable.

He wasn't too much for Eddie. At least for now.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah okay eds

see ya then

And if he slept the best he had in awhile that night, that was only for him to know.

They kept texting for about a week, and just like he said, Eddie was a substantial (he should note) part of his next few streams. Today was his break day though, and he would be lying if he wasn't staring at his phone on the charger. Waiting for it to ding.

Which was a little pathetic, but Richie was okay with it somehow.

And then, it dinged.

Richie almost tripped himself to grab his phone off the charger. And he was glad in that moment that no one was there to see it.

e.kaspbrak

I'm working with my least favorite coworker. I wish I was fucking dead.

I hate her more than I hate you, and that's saying something.

Richie laughed a little, and let himself ruminate. Or maybe he just didn't want to look desperate. It was all kind of the same, anyway.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u want me to come and tell her she makes shit coffee ?

pull my famous card ???

and what did she do ?

e.kaspbrak

You're such a dick.

Richie hoped he was laughing. Sometimes he thought he might be.

e.kaspbrak

She just won't leave me the fuck alone.

If she puts her hands on my arm one more time, I'm going to bite her head off.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

pretty sure that's called workplace harassment eds

u should go to ur manager

And something in Richie made him type more, even though, he really could have left it there. And he probably should have. But he was fucking curious.

Fuck his brain.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

and just call up ur gf

tell her that u need saving

eds the damsel in distress ✨️🧚‍♀️

He gnawed at his lip, fingers dancing along his sheet. He almost threw his phone back onto his chest, or maybe against the wall-

e.kaspbrak

boyfriend*

And I'm single dipshit. Why would I be texting you if I wasn't?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

oh

Richie felt something in his chest flutter. Like a fucking schoolgirl watching her crush play in a football game. If he had a little less dignity (and it wasn't fucking insane in the mornings), he would twirl his hair and kick his feet.

Fucking focus, trashmouth.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

welcome to the club eds

e.kaspbrak

You're single?

Richie pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah ?

have u ever seen a bf on my streams ?

e.kaspbrak

I just thought you had one off camera.

Or something.

He paused a second. That text somehow read as embarrassed or maybe... awkward. Richie wasn't sure how to read it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

well i don't

e.kaspbrak

Well, me neither.

Richie's heart halted in his chest for a second.

e.kaspbrak

Obviously, because she won't stop bothering me.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just tell her u do

or tell her ur gay

e.kaspbrak

How is that her business?

And I can't just lie dipshit.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

it's not fair point

and why not ?

e.kaspbrak

She'll ask me questions.

And I'm shit at lying.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

let me do it for u

i did it for 18 years baby it's foolproof

e.kaspbrak

How the fuck are you going to do that?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just spit out a person for u

i will give u all the details and u can just recite them

no thoughts needed spaghetti

e.kaspbrak

You can just make up a person?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

uh yeah

i used to do skits when i was like 12

by myself

e.kaspbrak

I would pay fucking good money to see some of those.

But okay. Give me your weird fake person.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

jamie porter

in tech school for IT shit

only child

really introverted bc constantly studying

likes jazz and the color blue

u go on classical concert dates sometimes

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

That's not my type at all.

He honestly debated asking exactly what that was but he held back. Because, technically, Eddie knew his type. Which was exactly him. That... shit, he never thought about that.

He cleared his throat.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why would it be ?

he's not real eds

it's just for a lie

e.kaspbrak

Can I just tell you my type fuckface?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why

e.kaspbrak

Because I want to dipshit.

And I already know yours, it's only fair.

Richie felt a little stupid. And a little confused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

okay spaghetti whatever u say

e.kaspbrak

Tall idiots. Very tall, and very fucking stupid.

[downtoncoquetteroach]

Summary: Reader and Fred are confused about last night, reader is a little bit too sensitive but she encounters the right person to hang out with. Neville deserves a personality so I gave him one, hope you like it.

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Fem reader

Fred Weasley x Fem reader

Notes:

This ended up being way longer than what I thought, sorry but I love slow burn. No smut this time just fluff and angst.

Also no Fred, just a lazy autumn Sunday.

TW: self harm, anxiety, self deprecating reader. Also not encouraging marihuana use. They wore ugly sweaters the hole time.

Words account: 2,302

Chapter One

You can also find this work on AO3 ✨

Chapter Two:

Secrets under the covers 🌼🪄

Y/n woke up at 5am not knowing what had happened, why was she half dressed half naked? A random blanket covering her, bed messy...HOLY FUCK DID SHE? Godric's beard, she did, didn't she? The muscular pain she was feeling confirmed everything.

She dressed herself before pulling the curtains and with a lot of effort, managed to get in the loo without waking up her dormates. She looked at herself in the mirror through the darkness. She saw herself confused, a mess, in and out. What happened after...? Did she just fall asleep?. Obviously Fred couldn't stay so, no reason to freak out about it, he wasn't there and that was not a bad thing, just a normal reaction to her falling asleep after giving him her virginity. Y/n decided to clean her tears and wash herself a little before coming back to bed, where she revolved, overthinking until the sun was up.

It was a Sunday so it was a relief that she didn't have to go to classes and face him in front of everyone in the great hall, that would have been a bit to fucking much given the fact that she didn't knew the state of their now relationship (?) She obviously expected him to make the first move, her dignity didn't allow her to do anything else. So she waited in her dorm for him to come and say good morning or check on her, but it was almost noon and her stomach was the only thing demanding attention. Now y/n wasn't only hurt, but starving.

Fred was awfully quiet the whole morning, internally suffering some blockage, ignoring everything and everyone around and only reacting vaguely to Lee and George. They assumed it was just a hangover but after breakfast they confronted him.

Did someone nicked your wand brother? You are acting like Hagrid's slugs after a class with Malfoy.

No, I dunno, I reckon I did something awfully stupid last night

What was it? You said no more sneaking into Snape's den by yourself

No! It's not that, it's just-

Fred's heart stopped, Y/n was coming out of the great hall, walking without any direction, slowly, lost in her own thoughts, getting dreadfully close to their spot on the grass. George followed his twin gaze and immediately knew.

No you didn't

Shut Up

You knob head! What did you do to her? She's literally an angel and you knew she was in love with you, you said you weren't ready

Shut it George!

Fred was literally screaming in whispers and that caught y/n's attention, their eyes locked for some seconds but then she turned away visibly pissed.

George hit Fred on the head.

You, me, quidditch pitch NOW!

Y/N was swallowing her tears, she couldn't let anyone seeing her like this, they would know she was a fool. An easy one. She was feeling extremely self conscious, she was ugly and naive and boring and stupid. Fred's expression was tattooed on her brain, the feeling that she wasn't wanted, ugh. Loud evil thoughts screaming all of her flaws, everyone's eyes were on her, she was painfully digging her nails on her hand to prevent public crying when she ran into on Neville.

Oh h- hi Y/n, how's your day?

She looked at his eyes, not knowing what to say, and started crying.

Blimey, y/n did I hurt you? Wanna go to Madame Pomfrey? I can carry you if you need me to! Please don't cry I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!

Neville was freaking out, his tender words making her cry even harder, all of the things she wanted Fred to say were coming out from Neville's mouth as if he knew exactly what she needed. It was ridiculous. This whole situation was rubbish.

Nev, no! It's not you, I'm sorry, its fine. I'm fine.

Y-you don't look fine. Sorry I mean

yeah I know, it's just complicated.

They stood in silence for a moment, finally Neville got an idea.

C-come with me, I'll show you something.

Y/n was cleaning her tears with her sleeve. Considering Neville's proposition. She didn't wanted to be alone on the dorm again or worse, at the common room, so she agreed.

Neville guided her to the most predictable of all places at Hogwarts: the greenhouse. She hided a smile, it was such a Neville move to assume some plants would make her feel better. She appreciated the gesture tho, he could have just ignore her or mock and leave. But she knew Neville was not that kind of guy. However, she was wrong about him, he hadn't just took her to see some weird plants moving, they were in a hidden corner of the greenhouse, looking at a blanket behind a table full of dirt and seeds.

What are we supposed to...

Shhh

Neville crouched and removed the blanket with great care and 3 small kitties appeared inside a box.

Y/n died of tenderness, to Neville's satisfaction she looked so much better than before, her energy totally shifted while she carefully tried to got closer to the sleeping creatures. They had been born 2 weeks earlier in the greenhouse, their mom sadly didn't make it through so Professor Sprout and him had been looking out for the baby's.

He sat on the ground and made a space for y/n, she followed and beamed on the little fellows.

She looked like a totally different person now, it was one of his favorite things to see. People could change so much according to their emotions, they could be totally different persons through the day, so he always had to check on them before interacting. Something inside him told him that he could trust her so, he took out his tiny can and started to roll up.

Y/n was mesmerized, she loved cats so much and had always wanted one of her own but her mother was totally against it. It took her a few minutes to look away and noticed what Neville was doing. She was shocked.

I- if it makes you feel uncomfortable I can save it for later.

She couldn't say a word. Neville was about to put his stash away when she forced herself to speak

N-No! Uhm, it's ok it's just, I never thought you-

Its just a plant, I look it up! Compared to some day use potions it's harmless you know.

I know, I've tried some back home with my childhood friends, it's just that it's kinda illegal for muggles, and very rebellious of you.

Neville laughed, he was way more confident than ever, y/n couldn't believe it, he seemed like a whole different guy. "It's always the quiet ones" her grandma has said. She watched him concentrated in the task, effortlessly rolling a joint with his long delicate fingers, such a beautiful hands made her think of Fred. Damn, remembering so suddenly only made things worst, his face while he looked at her half hour ago made her stomach turn in the worst way. Well not the worst at least it wasn't diarrhea...

Neville noticed her vibe changing, her face holding a weird expression.

Do you want to talk about it?

She stared at him, pulling her out of her dumb thoughts. How did he knew?

Are you some sort of legilimency master or something?

He just smiled

Neville Longbottom was a year younger than y/n. They were very cordial on each other, not precisely friends because he wasn't at any of her classes but, she had always had a soft spot for him, because of his family tragedy and the struggle's he had at school. He often forgot about the password to get in the common room so she was always checking on him so he wouldn't be out for too long. She hated people bullying him.

He stopped smiling and rolling, locked his gaze on her and said something that felt like a dash of cold water

You know, I saw what happened last night.

Y/n couldn't hide her disturbance, her lips parted a little bit while he carefully continued

I mean, I saw Fred following you after you left the couch, did he did something to you?

Y/n was still trying to process the sudden revelation, she felt so embarrassed, of course someone watched, probably everyone knew by now, she was feeling hot, shame crawling over her skin, about to dig her nails on her skin to prevent crying again when he put his hand on her's

I- It's ok, I didn't mean to intrude, it's just... even if I like Fred, even if he is someone I look up for, If he hurt you or anything I'll

No! He didn't, don't worry, Im fine, really.

Uhm, ok, you sure?

Yeah, sure Neville, who would have guessed you'll be such a knight on a horse, look at you, hiding all of these personality traits.

Y/n was used to mask her emotions quite well, at least most of the time and even if he make her feel safe, she didn't wanted to spoil the moment by ranting about Fred's horrid actions. She wanted to have some fun, and a spliff with Longbottom was something to tell the kids.

He observed her for a moment and carried on, getting the shit done once and for all.

After some smokes away from the kitties they got back to their sits besides them. Neville had turned on the old record player and after some minutes, a whimsical song started playing with a female voice filling the air. The greenhouse felt like it was coming more alive, the golden light of the autumn sun falling through the glass. Neville was smiling, y/n had her eyes full of sweet dreamy light, the sun hitting perfectly on them while she saw all of the things he loved revealing themselves for her for the first time.

He had always thought that there was some sort of unnamed magic on sharing the things that you loved with someone else.

You know y/n, I'm sure that one of the reasons we are alive is to be understood.

Y/n turned her head away from him and started shaking violently, hands on her face, not a sound coming out.

Hey what's wrong!

Neville was trying to pull her hands out of her face to see if she was choking or something but then she finally managed to laugh out loud and roll on the floor

Ugh, though you were dying or something

She laughed harder

"You can go on your own way" as he said, Neville exclaimed.

Y/n was still trying to recover but put some attention to the song

I don't want to shaking up you know, I wanted him to be my boyfriend, not just fucked him

Neville's face went full red

So, I'm truly the last virgin on Hogwarts? Cheers.

Oh no Neville don't say that, there are first years that haven't -

Neville laughed

Shut it you damn creep

They fall in silent again, and some fierce song filled the room.

Damn Neville that's good, what is it?

Fleetwood Mac, it's American.

I had never ever heard of them, are they new?

Nah

How did you came to have such a gourmet taste in music?

Ahm, this is my mother's, she kinda lent it to me.

Y/n felt silent, the weight of Neville's words falling over her, she knew what had happened to Neville's parents, she found out one day from professor McGonagall talking to Madam Rosmerta on the Three broomstick s. Y/n had felt so much sorrow for it all.

Neville felt the need to fill the silent

L-last nights record was mine too you know, Andromeda Black send it to my mother as a gift some years ago.

Oh wow, really?

Yeah, she's like a muggle record dealer for wizards with strange interests.

Y/n was lying on the floor looking at the clouds through the ceiling windows. Neville was such a bad ass behind the scenes, he was probably the coolest kid in the whole school

How can you be so cool? You are not even trying, it's so not fair Longbottom.

He felt a twist inside his stomach, cheeks wildly blushing. One of the things he liked the most from y/n was that she always said the things she thought about people to their faces, specially compliments, must of the people would be embarrassed to say such nice things to others, scared of what they could interpret, but not y/n. She was brave and sweet at the same time.

It started to get dark, they were really hungry, exhausted from all the laughter.

Ugh I'm so hungry but I don't want to go and have dinner with all of the Gryffindor's. I'm usually with them and everyone will notice me not talking to them.

Neville had an idea.

Why don't you go to my room and wait, I'll bring us dinner.

Really? Would you do that?

Sure

Neville stood and helped Y/n who had sleeping legs, he made her run and the laughed all the way up to the castle.

They had a great dinner, never shutting up about their favorite desserts, records and bands, the fact that Neville didn't knew that much about muggle concerts or y/n didn't knew about the wizard's society because she was a muggle born.

They pulled the curtains and made a silence spell to avoid Ron and the others, prolonging their now sleepover.

They were awfully comfortable, a weird feeling of belonging pulling them. They felt like they had known each other all their lives. They fell asleep while they shared secrets under the covers.

[zarvasace]

Attention

Disability AU, Four&Hyrule, some emotional hurt/comfort but it's all good in the end! About 1.2k. AO3 link here.

---

Though Hyrule didn't ever see much more than vague shadows, even he could tell that everything was very, very bright today. He sat in a cool patch of the beach, feet pointed toward the water, ears primed to hear anything approaching from the jungle behind. His fingers dug into the sand, finding a cool, damp layer underneath the top one. Out in the crashing waves, most of the others yelled and splashed. Hyrule's hair dried with salt in it. 

He felt calm, though not quite content. Something deep and empty stirred in his heart, unwilling to be filled with words of his own. 

Next to him, Four moved about, humming a little to himself in fits and bursts. They'd been sitting together for a while now, without much conversation. Hyrule was usually okay with that, but he'd been mentally rehearsing his opening line for a few minutes, now. 

"Do you ever…" Hyrule began, his voice faltering. He paused and tried again. Four went still to listen. "Do you ever feel… left out?"

Hyrule knew what would happen if he asked someone else that question. Sky or Twilight would immediately ask if he ever felt that way and try to fix it. Wild would go quiet. Wind might not understand, yet. Hyrule still had trouble communicating with Warriors at all, despite the signs he'd learned to identify by touch. Legend and Time might give him a real answer or might deflect. Four, though… Four was nothing if not honest, sometimes to his detriment. 

It took a moment to get an answer. Sand rustled. 

"Of course," Four said eventually. Hyrule frowned, not expecting that. Four explained. "I mean, you're really asking that now? I'm not much of a beach-goer, but of course I feel left out when people are enjoying something I can't participate in." 

Out in the distance, Legend shouted a few rapid-fire curses and got Twilight to yell at him for swearing again. Hyrule couldn't hear what, exactly, they were saying. 

"I… I didn't think you'd say it like that. I mean, feeling lonely isn't usual, is it? I wouldn't know. I don't really talk to people much. Or, well. I didn't." Hyrule had battled with the emotion for years, and usually won, but it had gotten harder after getting attached to the other Heroes. 

Four took a breath and rearranged himself, probably leaning against the heavy treasure chest Wild had unearthed from the sand. It had held a single rupee, which started off the current water fight. 

"I think that it depends," Four said. "As Hylians, we crave relationships. We want people to like us. It's a well-documented phenomenon, with plenty of studies and evidence, though I'll spare you all the boring details. But suffice it to say that to the deepest parts of our brains, attention—in the form of compliments, time, gifts, even hugs—and love are often the same thing. So when people don't pay attention to us, our brains worry that we're unloved, which makes us feel very alone and unsupported. People do crazy things when they crave that attention and love." His voice lowered as he spoke, becoming softer and more personal.  

"Oh."

The water rushed against itself, sounding like the wind in a storm, but somehow much calmer. Hyrule wiggled his toes in the sunshine and listened to Wind's screaming laughter get cut off as he got dunked in the ocean. He still felt a little empty, but understanding the feeling more helped. A little.

Four continued. "And I can only assume that the feeling is worse for most of us due to our different disabilities. It is for me. I can't go everywhere I want to as easily or quickly as other people anymore, so I get left behind. Even when I choose to get left behind, I still feel… left out, sometimes."

"I feel like that too, sometimes," Hyrule said before he could overthink it. "I miss a lot. I know that. I can't see Warriors's signing, and I don't see facial expressions or gestures. Sometimes I feel like I miss half the conversation."

"Nonverbal communication is, in fact, almost more important than verbal, sometimes."

"Exactly. And I can't do it."

"Actually, you do," Four said, turning to him. "You make faces and gestures, and we can tell what you think. You participate in conversations with more than just speaking, even if it's more difficult for you to pick up on the cues others put out."

It wasn't really a cure for loneliness, but Hyrule supposed that there wasn't one. He felt better, though. Four had actually paid attention to him. Perhaps there was something to that. 

Hyrule smiled a little. "Well, I guess if everyone feels that way sometimes, then I can try a bit harder to help them feel it less. I love everyone. I don't want them to feel like I don't." 

"I think everyone knows you care for them," Four assured him. "You prove it every time you yell at us over preventable injuries." Hyrule laughed. "But it can't hurt to say it again."

Wild's feet ran up to them, skidding to a stop in front of them. He panted, but sounded happy. "You guys look hot out here. Come on, we're retreating into the trees a bit for the night."

"Need any help with tea or dinner?" Hyrule asked, jumping on the immediate chance to prove he loved the others by paying them attention. Wild gave them special tea or food when he noticed that they needed it, from sleeping draughts to comforting recipes. That was how he paid attention and proved his love. Hyrule climbed to his feet and reached his hand toward Four. 

Four's small, tough hand took Hyrule's, and his wooden crutches creaked a little as he leaned on them. He muttered a thank you as Wild stammered. 

"Uh, well, not with the tea—the tea's fine. Probably not dinner either, I have it handled, it's perfectly all right. It's roasting right now, actually, so there's nothing to do!" 

Well, cooking wasn't Hyrule's strong suit, anyway. He smiled. "That's okay, I just like to help where I can."

"I know, and you're good at it—"

A group of the others came ambling up the beach, though Hyrule couldn't immediately tell who. It sounded like everyone, maybe. Their voices competed in the cooling air. 

"Hyrule! Put on shoes, for heaven's sake!" Sky said above the others, and Hyrule smiled again. "You never know what you'll step into."

"This sand is pretty soft, though. He's fine." That was Wind, sidling up close. Hyrule raised his eyebrows and took a step away, wary of pranks. 

Everyone paused, and Hyrule recognized the sound of this silence, the one that existed for Warriors to speak with his hands. As usual, Sky spoke up for him so Hyrule could hear. "Warriors says that we'd all feel better if you put some shoes on before we head into the jungle, and I have to say I agree. At least it looks like you avoided sunburn." 

"We did spend most of the day in the shade," Four says, sounding snappish but pleased. "We might have avoided sunburn, but it looks like our dear vet got a little crispy out there."

"I have a gel for that!" Wild called out. 

With everyone chattering around him, Hyrule wondered how he'd ever felt lonely with these people nearby. He cared about them, and he knew they cared about him. They just all showed it in different ways: Sky fussed. Time kept watch. Wild cooked. Warriors gave little gifts. Twilight hugged or poked. Wind prodded for stories to listen to. Four repaired. Legend lent his things out. 

"Time to clean up, all of you," Time said. "We need to get that sand out of your hair, Twilight."

"Oh, I don't know, it looks kind of dashing," Legend argued, sounding sarcastic. 

"Well, I can't see myself, but I always assume that Legend wants to see me make a fool of myself, so I'll go with Time here." Twilight tried very hard to keep his laughter inside. 

"I mean, I can't see you, either," Hyrule said brightly. Legend actually laughed, so he counted that as a win. 

[wyntereyez]

This is gonna be my last bit of screaming into the void. I can't decide if it's been cathartic, but it's definitely made me angry. This time, I'm gonna talk a bit about myself. I'm not gonna talk about my flaws, because I KNOW I have them, and I don't want to keep putting myself down, because I do that too much already. Instead, I'm gonna talk about something I've been slowly coming aware of, and if anyone has any advice, I'd welcome it.

I'm pretty sure I have ADHD. I've suspected it for awhile, but initially dismissed it because I assumed I completely lack the 'Hyperactive' aspect of it. Physically, anyway. Outwardly, I'm quiet. An introvert. Low energy. I've always assumed I'm just lazy - despite having the responsibilities of an adult since I was too young. You'd think I'd realize something was off, but considering how I have a mother who never did anything for us, I grew up with this horror that I'm like her.

I know now I'm not.

And now I'm starting to think I was hyperactive, but circumstances forced me to permanently mask it.

Something Neil Newbon said at a convention recently really resonated with me. He was talking about how he was always busy, because he was afraid that if he stopped, he'd be lazy.

And I'm starting to think that I was stopped long ago, and never allowed to start again.

I know it runs in my family. My youngest sibling, my half-brother, babbles along a mile a minute, and he just kinda ping pongs around different subjects, and I've never had any problems following along. It made sense to me.

According to my mom's side of the family, who knew me best when I was very young, I used to be loud, and never stopped talking. An aunt once joked that she knew I wasn't on the school bus one day because it was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. I even have vague memories of dictating a long-winded story about a winged unicorn to a little tape recorder.

And even now, there are moments where I stop overthinking things, where I'm not thinking at all, where I'll joke around, and there won't be any sort of anxiety, it'll just be natural. It's like a different person takes over my body. I'll say whatever the hell is on my mind, and it's very freeing.

So, what the hell happened?

It probably started as a child, when I first started school. I rode two different buses; sometimes I'd go to my grandmother's house, so there would be relatives on the bus with me, and sometimes I'd go home, and I was alone on that ride. Defenseless.

I have this vague memory of two teenage girls who didn't like how loud I was. So they hit me. This isn't something I've ever told anyone, because I was so very young, and couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Add in everything else that happened in my life, where I was constantly being forced into roles I wasn't suited for, expected to behave certain ways and criticized when I didn't perform... I just feel very Wrong. But I don't know how to fix it. I don't want to be stopped anymore. But I don't know how to start again.

[meraki24601]

Hello! I saw your advice on your previous reblog and it's very helpful to know that there's other ways of writing and you could break a couple of rules. I am a very bad storyteller so it truly helps, thank you for sharing! I just want to ask for advice about dialogue, I take days thinking what the character should say in this part of the story that I am not moving forward. I don't think that's normal for one line to take that much time?? How long should thinking for a dialogue normally take for it to sound natural? I think it should be quick because everyday conversation isn't planned but then I read somewhere that dialogue in stories are different from everyday conversation and that they should move the plot. But I don't want to sound like a Hallmark movie. I am also not very fond of the monologues that happened inside of the characters head, so I completely remove that in my story. I like when writers leave clues in conversations, even if the story is vague, it's like a puzzle piece! I think it's fun when they do that so I try to copy it but I end up just spending so much time with dialogues just thinking about revealing not too much information. I kind of 'overbake' everything. It doesn't sound natural anymore. I have taken a break and everything, tried to reset the story. Only to get stuck on a dialogues again.

Oh my god this is so long I am so sorry I just want general advice on dialogues! I am new at this so I'm making a lot of assumptions.

Hello Friend! Thanks for asking!

You have some really good questions in there. If you're asking questions and trying to learn, you're never a bad storyteller; you're just inexperienced and learning. It takes time to figure it out, and even professional writers struggle to make their stories "good." That's why alpha and beta readers, as well as editors, are so important. Anyway, in most cases, rules are there so you can learn how to break them. That definitely applies to writing dialogue.

One rule that I always hear is that you need to write quickly. Completing a draft should only take this long, and you should be able to put down so many words in an hour. While that might be true in part for most professional authors, that is mainly for people who need to chug out 5 or 6 books per year. Unless you have a contract that says you have to have a completed book in a month, take as long as you need. Take a day or more to chew on a line if it's important enough to warrant the attention. That writer friend I mentioned in my last post? They tend to average 20-30+ words per hour. I, on the other hand, average more like 8-15. Even so, I've written complete drafts of 5 novels and released a children's book, and he's only written one. Each person is different. Speed does tend to come with experience, but it's not required to be a good writer.

Yes, story dialogue generally differs from what you might hear when listening to someone chatting at the next table in a restaurant. That mainly comes from removing filler words and unnecessary verbal delays. Can filler words be used? Yes. However, they need to be used sparingly. Some verbal delays can be hinted at outside of the spoken words through actions and the listener's reactions.

Personally, when I'm really struggling with figuring out what a character would say, it's usually an issue with understanding the characters themselves. Would your character react to what's happening? What part of the recent events would they be reacting to? How would this particular person respond to what has been said to them? Are they the kind of person who would overthink and work out what this or that means in their head, or would they talk out their thoughts? How would their background influence the specific words they use?

For example, if a character were to ask another, "Hey, could you get her some more coke?" There are a few things this would tell you about them. First, I might assume they were from the southern US since they used the word coke instead of soda or pop. The request also suggests they're familiar with the person they're asking or the other person is in a waiter position. The person who needs the drink might be a child, an anxious adult, a significant other, or some other relation to the person asking, and this character has taken charge of the situation and asked so the other doesn't have to. If your character isn't a Southerner who wouldn't actively take charge of another person's minor needs, then they probably wouldn't say the line as it is, and you would likely need to adjust it to fit. Even though it seems like a simple, sweet thing to do, if they're making the request to avoid answering a question they had been asked, it changes how the reader and other characters would feel about it.

It sounds like you're trying to find the perfect dialogue right away. Remember that your first draft is supposed to be awful. Let yourself intentionally write bad dialogue. Get those Hallmark, cheesy, "I love you. No, I love you more."s down on the page and then make it less vomit-inducing later. Once you know who your characters are, how they act, and what your readers actually need to know, then you can make them say those meaningful lines that will have people screaming about how they didn't see things before they happened. If you need to, write the action first. Avoid writing a single spoken word until you know where everyone is and what's happening in the chapter. You can even use asterisks and plug in things like *so-and-so says something cool here that reminds the reader of their dead brother* to make a note of where you need to come back to and help yourself get past a troublesome spot.

Keep going! Writing is never easy, but it does get easier as you learn. Practice, and when you're ready, let other people read what you've written and give constructive feedback.

[matrixxsystem]

Terrapin Soup Part 6 (2/2)

"Leo.." Usagi looked around, a bit unsure, "Id this what you meant when you mentioned your portals being a bit.. Unstable?" "Hm? Oh, no, I did this one on purpose. I uhm.. I thought it'd be nice to sit up here with you, maybe.. Watch the sun set? Since it's like the one thing the hidden city doesn't have." Usagi smiled seeing Leo try to hide his blushing, he'd gotten pretty fond of Leo in the short time they actually knew each other.. "I've never seen the sunset from a view like this.. How kind of you." He carefully walked closer to the edge of the building, waiting for Leo to join him before sitting down. "I wanted to give my brothers a bit more time to get the kitchen together since I'm sure it's a mess by now." They both laughed at that, knowing full how it was more then likely true. Leo glanced over, trying to play it cool as he reached his hand over taking Usagi's into his. "It's been a while since I did this, but it's a lot nicer sharing it with someone. I mean, I'm not really a big nature and 'look at the stars' kinda guy but I thought you'd probably like it so.." "I think it looks amazing, it's not often I'm able to do something like this. Thank you for sharing this with me Leo." "..C-Can I share something else with you?" "Yes, anything Leo." "You.. You have to close your eyes first though.. Okay?"  Usagi nodded and closed his eyes as Leo requested, giving his hand a little squeeze and their fingers interlocked. Despite being on the edge of a building that stood over one thousand feet tall, Usagi had no trouble trusting him. Leo had been overthinking it earlier, that he'd be far too shy to return Usagi's gesture later tonight when he was on his way home, he figured it'd be easier to do it here while they had privacy. And April told him a few times to "put his big boy shell on and make the first move for once" so there was that too. He took a deep breath leaned in, his free hand coming up to gently cup Usagi's face to hold it in place. Closing his own eyes like an idiot as he killed the distance between them till they met in a kiss, though he pulled back pretty quick after, in disbelief that he actually just did that.  Usagi's expression didn't shift as much as Leos would've if he'd been on that end, but when he opened his eyes again Leo felt his heart skip a beat, fuck his eyes were pretty.. He gave Leo's hand another squeeze, silent for a moment probably processing. "I like when you share things with me." He said after a moment. Oh frick he was cute.. And his smile and those big eyes and soft fur and his hand fits in mine so well and... I wanna kiss him again.. I really wanna kiss him again- "I-I like sharing things with you.. Uh- We should.. I'm sure the foods done by now so we should.." Usagi nodded and waited for Leo to let go of his hand before he stood up, watching from a few feet back as Leo made another portal, gesturing for Usagi to go ahead. And once they were on the other side Leo proceeded with his partly rehearsed tour of the lair, only going off script to introduce him to April and Splinter. It all seemed to go really well, even when Splinter tried to act tough or while Mikey barged in to give him another hug. Or when a mini food fight broke out during dinner because Donnie insisted on calling salt 'sodium chloride' when he asked for it to be passed to him. But at the end of the night everyone seemed to have a good time, they asked Usagi about his life, where he grew up, what plans he had if any for the future, what he thought of Leo. Which of course they were all met with vague honestly. Things like;

"I've lived in the hidden city my whole life. My teacher had been tracking a small band of killers, he found them at the end of a trail that ended with the lives of my parents. He took me in seeing I had no one else."

"I'm not sure yet, I assume I'd take over my teachers role, doing the jobs I do now just on a bigger scale."

"I think Leo is.. Unique. He's kind, and brave.. And despite hardships still strives to make people smile and laugh. I'm lucky to have met him the way I did."

Needless to say that last response earned a wide array of coos from the family, no further questions needed of course. Though.. What Raph had said not long after their first meeting still stuck in Mikey's head. He wondered why he felt uncomfortable that time, and if that feeling went away yet or if it was just his older brother instincts to be that way? Usagi seemed pretty genuine, and Leo did too, he'd never seem him more happy and 'at home' maybe ever? But no one else seemed to feel that way, even April who was an older sister to them or Splinter who as a dad should be more guarded then Raph right? It didn't make sense..

Part 7

Part 1

TS Master Post

[kfruityouth]

alright alright okay so

this line kind of implies that sydney's rejection (to put it lightly. sydneys near-murder of him.) is enough reason for him to return to his home country. i wonder whats waiting for him there? maybe hes just got no where else to go now?

this line here...

...tells us that he emigrated to america, presumably with his family..? but then why would he go back to russia, if his family is all here? just to run away from everything that happened? does he know he's Fucked Up™

adding in at the last minute as i re-read this........... the use of the pet name "doll" feels very... well, what do you think of when you think of the words "russian" and "doll" in the same sentence? matryoshka dolls represent the cycle of life typically... eeee.... the cycle of life and death... see the tie back to sydney? and his 'death'? and rebirth? because you can stack and un-stack the dolls as much as you like? aghhhhhhhhhh!!!! am i overthinking this? probably. but the fact that you can even point out these little details in chnt just to me shows the level of effort put into the podcast in the first place

and lmao. 'wealthy family'. do all nepo babies in the chnt universe just choose to become little freaks? i mean, soren, jeddie to an extent, elijah...

("yeah i like shepherding sheep. but also the taste of their young.")

also too...

...assuming the salamander was actually elijah, which of course could just be a throwaway line to describe him, but also considering the vagueness in this whole spiel in which the main characters are presented as metaphorical or in a really vague and mystical sort of way... ???

(he likes collecting salamanders and also tearing their limbs off... see shepherding comparison above... hmmm...)

i also think its interesting that the agents are following the people classified as entities

hmmm... chthonic abilities being something traceable? something something fervour effect being the residual of this... idk...

also, dont even get me started on how elijahs (apparent) home province, arkhangelsk, literally translates to "archangel"... i guess if i were to get all poetic and pretentious about it, he's returning to... 'heaven'..? or he's descended from 'heaven' as an 'archangel' for syd or whatever... hmmm...

but idk. i just think its funny to imagine elijah on a plane. like this dirty blood stained weirdo freak in scrubs and a purple wizard cloak sitting at the window seat watching the clouds