#it was very nice to finally have an excuse to dump a few of my favorite songs to everyone 😹

[mcnanashi]

What is your favorite song in general :3

hjello !! thank you for the question :D

aughhh this is so hard,, i don’t know if i can pick a singular favorite…

but if i had to answer, i’d say undertaker by graveyardguy !! the vibes are so immaculate ;; i don’t think i’ve ever skipped this song

but, if i can drop a couple other songs i really love..

garden song by phoebe bridgers is really good !!

and the song i’m most obsessed with at the moment is the first opening from witch’s heart 🎉 since this is mainly a paralive account, i’m trying not to show it, but the witch’s heart brainrot is taking over a bit… 🙈

[mybworlds]

It's Christmas time

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: it's Christmas time and you come home. You meet your childhood friend (or rather enemy) Javier Peña.

TW: use of you, you have female features, no physical description of the female character or her age, no use of Y/N. AU and OOC!Javier. Reference to a previous relationship. Reference to Javier and main character childhood/adolescence. Using nicknames that our protagonists used as kids. Sweetness, sweetness, sweetness.

A/N: this is one of the sweetest oneshot I’ve ever written, but it’s Christmas time and so my heart needs love and sweetness too. If this is too sappy, which is likely, forgive me.

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Taglist: @harriedandharassed

Thanks @saradika-graphics for the dividers

Coming home has always been difficult for you. Especially for the Christmas holidays. The difficulty is not so much linked to the interminable lunches or dinners organized by your mother and the neighbors as to having to sit at the table for hours with the most unbearable, egocentric, vain man you've ever met, Javier Peña. Today Agent Javier Peña.

Since he has this title, he has been bragging about it all the time, talking about this or that operation, and you roll your eyes every time you hear him talking about his capture operations.

This talk about himself and how great he is happens every single Christmas, and every single Christmas since you were a little girl you have to sit across from him and listen to him mumble now about how much he had grown, now about how handsome he was, now about how good he was in school, now about his girlfriend who was the homecoming queen, now about him getting into the academy. And what's worse is that your mother, a distant aunt of yours do nothing but praise him, especially in your eyes.

This year you fear it won't be much different. They'll have you at the back near the kids and Javier in front, wow.

Your journey is intentionally very, very slow. You would have preferred to spend it in your apartment crying. Yes, crying because your long-time boyfriend dumped you after a few days before the Christmas holidays. In recent years, you had managed to avoid going back to your parents' house with the excuse of having to spend the holidays with your boyfriend, but now this excuse is no longer there.

What an asshole, you find yourself thinking for a moment. For a moment you think you would like to vent to your mother and maybe cry in her arms, but then you think that would give her the perfect excuse to try to get closer to the cocky one. You roll your eyes, it's going to be a really nice holiday!

When you arrive in front of your parents' house, the first thing you notice is the myriad of lights all around the house, the disproportionate garland on the main door and the trees all full of lights at the sides of their driveway. The second thing is the car of the vain and megalomaniac one and you find yourself gripping the steering wheel even tighter, if you could you would just say hello and go back home, but you can't.

When you knock on the door, you hear a little buzz, then footsteps, and finally the lock clicks and the door opens. You expect to see your mother or father's face and instead he appears before you.

You're almost sure it's him, after all, the eyes are his and the expression on his face is the same, but you almost struggle to reconcile the memory of that young man with the one that stands before you. His face is definitely less round than last time, his eyes are more penetrating than those he had as a boy, his physique is leaner and more athletic. Your gaze wanders over him, noticing a simple red sweater and a pair of tight, very tight black pants.

“Can I help you?” he asks you in a friendly tone and looking you up and down, obviously he didn't recognize you.

“This is my home, you snotty one.” you reply by walking past him and entering.

“Weirdo, is that you?” he asks squinting and frowning. He closes the door and looks back at your face, scrutinizing you as if to find some similarities with the girl he hadn't seen for a while.

“In the flesh.” you reply, lifting your chin up not only to look him in the eye, but also with pride because today, unlike a few years ago, you know who you are.

He smiles askance and in that moment you recognize him completely, you recognize that sly expression, that twinkle in his eyes, but if when you were little you sometimes suffered his pranks and played just as many of his own, today you are a woman and if he were to dare to make a single comment or say a single word out of place...

“I find you good, you're... different.” he tells you, placing his hands on his hips for a moment. “Do you want to give me your coat?” he asks you in an almost gallant manner and for a moment your jaw is about to hit the ground, the surprise is so great, you were expecting some idle comment, some little word and instead, apart from the use of those nicknames from when you were children, for the moment he’s treating you normally, if not more. You take off your coat and hand it to him, you're about to politely ask how he is when you're interrupted by an unmistakable, shrill voice.

“Javi, who is this?” it’s your mother coming out of the kitchen wearing her historic kitchen apron with a big reindeer sewn on and her red oven gloves, “Oh, my sweet little sugarplum!” your mother exclaims in a falsetto, making you feel suddenly uncomfortable and hugging you tightly, “I was hoping we’d meet Mark this year!” she adds, placing her hands on your forearms and looking you over. “Are you eating? You look so wasted.” here she starts with her exclamations and questions in rapid succession, “Did you see who's with us again this year? Do you remember Javier? You always played together when you were kids,” you roll your eyes, nodding almost absentmindedly “he's always spent Christmas with us, only this year he came without his... um, what was your girlfriend's name, darling?”

“Lorraine.” Javier replies, lowering his head and almost hugging your coat to himself. You can see that he's uncomfortable, but if in the past you would have smiled at seeing him like this, today it doesn't seem right.

“Um, Mom, do you mind if I go say hello to Dad too?” you say in an attempt to escape that vortex that is undoubtedly affectionate, but at times extremely suffocating.

“Javier, would you accompany her?” your mother asks in her ever-present attempt to get you two attached.

“Mom!” you call her back. “It’s my house, don’t worry.” You try to avoid further embarrassment with him.

“Relax,” he says, “I’ll put your coat down, and in the meantime why don’t you tell me what’s new in your life?” he adds.

“Oh, well… so, I'm leaving you!” your mother exclaims.

Precisely.

When you're alone, you clear your throat almost embarrassedly, “Sorry about earlier, my mom's always the same nosy one.”

He smiles with his head down, biting the inside of his cheek, “I know, but I still love her. You know, after... how many years have we known each other?”

You smile, meeting his gaze again, “All my life.” For a few moments you remain as if embarrassed by each other's presence and yet, as you just said you've known each other forever, there shouldn't be any awkwardness at all.

“So, are you engaged?” he asks.

You could tell him the truth, but you don’t know to what extent he has changed and if he can turn the truth against you and revive your mother's initial idea of setting you up with Javier.

“Yes. Yes, indeed. It's just... you know, he was busy so...” you stammer, not knowing what to say.

He nods, looking you in the eye, almost as if he sensed that you weren't telling the truth, but he doesn't want to expose you, is it a superpower he acquired by becoming an agent? Oh, what nonsense, you say to yourself, discarding this hypothesis as absurd and senseless.

Your family has always had its own traditions. In fact, since you were little, your family gets together a few days before Christmas Eve to tell each other about what you didn't experience together, you have breakfast together, you begin to prepare succulent foods and delicious drinks and then you all gather together at the table.

You and Javier spent those days as children chasing each other up and down the stairs, pulling each other's hair and sometimes even toys. In short, seeing you was never a pleasure because you always had a new wound from those holidays.

Settling into your old room for a few days and finding it exactly as you left it a few years ago has a strange effect on you.

“It must be strange to come home, but nice to find it the way you left it,” comments Javier who accompanied you carrying your suitcase even though you initially protested when you heard that his very gallant offer.

“That's it.” you simply say, looking at the pink walls and the equally pink blanket, the heart-shaped rug. “I loved Barbies,” you add when you realize that Javier is also looking around.

“Yes, I remember,” he says smiling. “I remember hiding one once.” He continues, “Barbie the Bride.” He adds, his smile becoming almost embarrassed.

“You hid it in the oven.” you say. “Too bad my aunt turned it on a couple of minutes later, resulting in me losing the doll, but then having to throw away the food and the appliance.”

“And to make me pay, you chased me to my room and beat me up.” You find yourself smiling at those memories. “We were two nightmares.”

“You were!” you point out.

“Oh, sure, you were always the girl who suffered,” he replies.

“No, I used to react, but to your constant provocations.”

There’s a moment of silence during which you’re about to ask if he wants to let you settle in, but then he adds, “It’s nice to see you again and have you back with us.”

“Yes. Maybe tomorrow you can come over for breakfast with us.” You suggest, remembering that your mother always makes her gingerbread cookies.

“Gladly. But first I have to take my old man to the doctor, you know he has a bit of arthritis.” he tells you.

“Oh, how is he? Will he be with us again this year?” you ask him.

“He has his aches and pains, you know. Unfortunately, no. You know, as he gets older he prefers to stay at home, among his things,” he explains, shrugging.

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry. Say hello to him, of course. And give him a kiss.” you tell him, “Tell him I always remember him with such affection.” you tell him smiling and making him smile.

“I will. I'm going now, so goodnight." He says goodbye with a half smile, leaving you to unpack your bags with a new, pleasant and unexpected version of Javier in your head.

The next day, you are woken up by the smell of coffee, the clatter of dishes and your father's voice. You find yourself smiling as you turn over in bed, it's nice to be back home after all!

You go downstairs still wearing your pajamas, “‘morning,” you greet your father with a kiss on the cheek and a half-hug to your mother who is busy making gingerbread cookies.

You sit at your parents’ kitchen peninsula and smile as you watch them move around the kitchen together, performing the same gestures that have been happening for almost thirty years now.

“Did you sleep well, little bird?” your dad asks you. “The coffee was just made.”

“You shouldn't have,” you tell him, as he places your little cup with a stocking and a little holly painted on it in front of you. “Anyway, yes. I slept very well. Going back to my room wasn’t as traumatic as I thought.”

“Mark, don’t you make coffee for you in the morning?” your mother asks you curiously, as she arranges her cookie man-shaped biscuits on a tray and gives you a curious look.

“Oh, well, no… let’s just say we weren’t there yet. Everyone was still sleeping at home!” you exclaim quickly, only to realize a moment later that you’ve been talking about your ex-boyfriend in the past tense.

“Was?!” your mother exclaims. “Are you hiding something from us, sugar?” your mother asks curiously.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, leave her alone! Maybe she’s just confused!” your father exclaims, reaching for the tray of cookies.

“I'm her mother, I have a sixth sense for these things. And you,” she continues, turning to your father. “Hands off. The cookies are also for Javi, his father, my sister and her two daughters who should be here any minute by the way.”

You don't have time to smile at this exchange of jokes when at that moment there's a knock at the door, “Oh, honey, open the door, please” your mother says as she fixes her hair and quickly removes a few misplaced pots.

You reach the door and open it, Javier is at your door and it's the first time in your entire life that you find him beautiful. He gives you a smile that is so warm and dazzling that something deep inside you falters and your heart starts to beat very fast in your chest.

“Hi.” You greet him, finding yourself standing there in front of the door with a dazed look on your face, blocking his passage.

“Good morning. Nice pj’s!” he exclaims.

Your eyes widen as you remember what you're wearing. What a huge embarrassment!

Javi comes in and gives you a kiss on the cheek and you remain there, speechless. As if you had never received or given a kiss until today!

Behind him appears Peña senior, his hair is now completely white and he walks a little hunched over, but his warm smile will never change. As soon as he sees you he greets you warmly as if he were greeting a daughter, “How nice to see you again, my sweet little lady!”

You smile at him, “Hi, me too.”

You remember how many times he separated you and his son from hair-raising or falling down the stairs, how many times he consoled you after Javi had bitten your hand or scratched your arm. Today, if you think back on it, it makes you smile, but back then you were really feeling bad.

You and Javier are sitting down to breakfast, he tells you about his job and how super busy he always is and how often he has to find an alternative way to get to the truth. You listen to him and for the first time you notice how passionately he talks about his work. You feel almost fascinated by the way he talks to you and at the same time by the attention he gives you when he offers you the tray with the biscuits, he pours you orange juice without you even having to say anything. Then, he asks you about your job, if you love it, what you do, the pros and cons of your job. You had a totally different memory of him and his way of speaking and addressing you, he’s pleasant.

You soon realize that your parents and his father are intentionally leaving you time together and you can't help but smile with a certain embarrassment.

“So, does this Mark even exist?” he asks you, lowering his voice.

You dart your eyes from one corner of the room to another, fearing that your mother might have heard his question.

“Does it offend you if I call him an asshole?” he continues, raising an eyebrow.

You’re about to tell him to mind his own business, but then you think better of it. “No. You’re right.”

“Do you want to talk to me about him?” he asks, looking at you with his huge brown eyes and you can't help but talk to him incessantly about him, about Mark, about your relationship, about how he made you feel unique and special, but how both you and he were so focused on yourselves and your work that in the end you didn't see each other that much, maybe — you only realize at that moment talking to him about it — that yours had become a routine rather than a love story. Yes, there had been that, but in the end neither one decided to take a decisive step towards the other.

Instead, he told you, he had arrived at a decisive moment, he believed he had found his soul mate, he believed that she was even expecting a child from him and then everything had dissolved for him like snow at the seaside. You see him, his eyes suddenly become sad and you can't help but squeeze his hand tightly and he looks up at you. You don't say anything at that moment, just let those confidences of yours be absorbed into each other soul and heart.

“You’ve changed.” You tell him with a small smile. “For the better, I mean. You’re… Less…” You’re looking for a word that isn’t offensive because at the moment all you can think of are non-positive adjectives.

He notices your hesitation so he just smiles, “I hope whatever it was doesn’t apply anymore.”

“Yes, that’s right.” You stand there looking at each other for almost several seconds then you clear your throat and cross your arms at breast level.

The rest of the day you spend walking around your hometown with Javier who was almost pushed by your mother and then lightly elbowed by his father as well. It's obvious by now, but if until yesterday at this time you’d have wanted to run away, now you're out buying some other little decorations, drinking a hot chocolate together and telling each other every little detail of your life.

You like him. He’s pleasant.

When you return, your mother invites the Peñas to dinner and, exchanging a quick, silent glance, they accept. Not that you mind, at least you spend time with someone who listens to you and with whom you can talk freely.

Every now and then you exchange a glance, a little smile and here and there your memories flash by, either of yourselves or of your parents.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks every now and then, “Are you okay?” Javier asks you placing a hand on yours and the gesture didn’t escape your mother and your aunt who coughed as if to underline what happened.

“So, goodnight.” you greet him as you open the door.

Someone behind you coughs, getting your attention, “Um, guys,” you look at your father in confusion, “do you realize where you are?” he asks you by pointing his finger upwards.

A branch of mistletoe hangs down toward you and you find your eyes locked on each other's faces. You smile awkwardly at each other.

“Do you mind if...?” he asks you uncertainly.

You shake your head feeling like your life is suddenly changing before your eyes and you wonder if in your future, a future perhaps not too distant, there really is a place for him, for your enemy now friend, Javier Peña.

[heliza24]

Being a physically disabled Dimension 20 fan breaks my heart sometimes

I’ve been thinking about this since last Wednesday’s episode when we finally got a real scene with Lydia, one of the few physically disabled characters in the entire canon of the show. It was nice, but it was really just a lore dump. An excuse for exposition. A moment for Kristen to look good by expending sympathy/pity. (I’m a little frustrated about how that interaction went down. Extending the help action was nice but patronizingly touching the neck of a full-ass adult without consent was not. It was weird and not something she would have done to a nondisabled character).

I have watched almost all of D20 (still missing a couple of seasons) and as far as I know here’s where our list of canon physically disabled characters stand: Lydia Barkrock, Jan de la Vega (who feels pretty problematic to me, maybe more on that in a later post), one of the Dwarven statues in the temple in The Seven (who is not given the dignity of being brought to life like Asha), and Pete’s coworker in TUC2 who is in exactly one episode and is so unimportant I have forgotten his name. I guess you could make an argument that Gunny is disabled, but I don't feel that Lou or Brennan really talk about him or play him through that lens. So in terms of canon physically disabled PCs-- that leaves us with 0.

We do a bit better with neurodivergent characters and characters with mental health problems; Ayda (my beloved) is very well developed and Adaine is a PC. There have been some openly neurodivergent players, like Omar and Surena, whose characters also read ND to me. But that isn’t labeled or discussed in canon, so it's hard for me to know where to class that. I am going to focus the rest of this post on physical disabilities, since that is my area of lived experience. If another fan wants to write about their perspective of neurodivergence rep in the show, I would love to hear that, and will happily amplify.

There has never been a character with a sensory disability or a limb difference or a chronic illness (not a fantasy one, a real one) on Dimension 20. The only NPCs we have are nondescript, similar wheelchair users. And there has never been a physically disabled player at the table. On the flagship show of Dropout, a company founded on diversity and inclusion. It feels extremely pointed to me.

In fact as far as I can tell there has only been one (1) physically disabled performer on any of Dropout’s shows. (Shout out to Brett, you were great on Dirty Laundry.) Obviously I haven’t seen every episode of everything they have produced. If I have missed someone, please do let me know in the comments/reblogs. But it’s a problem. And Sam Reich even agreed with this criticism when I asked him directly about.

I do really hope they’re working on it, as Sam says. But why has it taken so long?

Dimension 20 has had trans and nonbinary and queer players. It has had players of many different races. I’m not saying that the diversity here is perfect; there should always be more POC in the dome, more queer people. We should keep pushing for that. (And we should also push for performers at the intersections of these identities!) But we’ve seen the ways this diversity has expanded and improved the different seasons, because diverse players create sensitively drawn, diverse player characters. They add details to their PC’s experiences that make them feel rich and alive. I’m thinking about each of Ally’s PC’s incredible capital G gender and Aabria “all my characters (even the stoats) are Black” and how excellent they all are. D20 would not be the show it is without this input.

And yet. And yet.

There are 1,000 interesting and complicated themes to explore around disability. Dealing with access. Dealing with ableism. Dealing with compassion and community care. Dealing with none of it and just being a cool fantasy or sci fi character that happens to be disabled. We don’t get any of it.

I watch my favorite show and I see myself in the ace rep and the female characters. But I don’t see all of me. I see a silent but ever present message: you aren’t quite welcome here.

I have this fantasy that I play in my brain sometimes that someday I’ll get to talk to Brennan in person, like maybe if I buy a VIP ticket and risk Covid to go to a live show or we run into each other on the street or something. I am able to look him in the eye and articulate why he NEEDS to include a physically disabled player in an upcoming season. I reference the ways he’s talked about inclusion and writing diversely on Adventuring Party. Maybe I hand him a handwritten letter, or hell, a printout of this post. And because he really cares about diversity and his shows and his fans he would listen to me, and cast a physically disabled performer in the next season.

But I think that might be giving that nondisabled man (whose work I adore, who I respect so much) too much credit. Because he’s had Jennifer Kretchmer, a physically disabled actual play performer, on adventuring academy to talk about access in gaming. He’s hired disability consultants. He knows about physically disabled people, enough to give us shoutouts as inconsequential npcs. And he still hasn’t thought to include us at the table. In over 20 seasons. None of that other stuff matters if we aren't given a seat at the story telling table, and the agency to craft our own narratives equal to other participants in the game.

When Lydia was telling her story in the last episode, I kept wishing for a prequel, where she is more than a plot delivery device and a kind but unimportant parent. I want to know about her adventures with her adventuring party. I want to see a talented, wheelchair-using actor play out the scene when she decides to put the gem in her chest. I want to hear about what happened after. I want to know how she survived. I want it so badly it hurts.

I am in the process of trying to find new indie actual plays that feature more disabled talent. I am learning how to GM myself so I can tell these kinds of stories. But it’s not the same as being a fan of something. Sometimes I don’t want to have to make my own representation. Sometimes I just want to turn on my favorite tv show, the one that I have cosplayed from and written metas about and loved whole heartedly, and see myself included.

If you’re another disabled or neurodivergent fan I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. If you’re not, I’d love for you to reblog this. I would love for the absence of physical disability in this show to be a topic of fandom conversation, at the very least.

[sorinethemastermind]

'Til i forget what i felt in the first place

In which Rayla sings a lullaby, and Soren finds it oddly familiar. Co-written and edited by the supremely talented @honeii-puff! I write the Soren POV chapters, she writes the Corvus POV chapters. Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

They didn’t stop until the sun had disappeared from the sky the following day and the moon was rising. Soren was exhausted, carrying a far heavier load than the others what with his bulky armor. He was grateful to sit down and catch his breath when Rayla finally called for them to stop. Even she couldn’t keep going forever.

But it was once they’d stopped that the divide between the two sides of their little makeshift camp began to feel noticeable. Soren had chosen a large tree to lean against, unclipping the sword from his belt and lying it beside him. Runaan had settled against a tree opposite him, a little ways off into the forest. Rayla and Callum were quick to fall into place beside him.

It made sense. Runaan was Rayla’s Dad, of course she wanted to spend some time with him. And it wasn’t like Callum was going to ditch his girlfriend to come and sit with Soren. But still, it hurt. Just a little bit.

Not all of them being over there and him being here, that he didn’t care about. Rayla and Callum could sit where they liked.

It was just that there was nobody to come and sit beside Soren. 

He waited just until his legs had stopped burning before pushing himself to his feet and clipping his sword back to his belt.

“I’m going to go and get us some firewood.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? They might be able to see the smoke.” Rayla interjected.

“It’s going to be cold tonight.” Soren pointed out. “And I don’t know about you, but I didn’t pack a blanket.”

None of them could argue with that, so they let him wander off into the steadily darkening trees. Soren gathered wood until his arms were full and twigs were spilling out with every step. Unable to fit anymore, he found little excuse not to return to camp.

He got back to find them in a similar state as before; all huddled on one side of the small clearing, chattering amongst themselves. Callum said something that made Rayla laugh, and even coaxed a small smile out of Runaan (Soren was beginning to realize that that was as good as you were going to get with him). 

“I got firewood!” he said loudly, dumping it in the middle of the clearing. They all glanced up at him as he began clearing leaves and other debris out of the way.

“Could somebody hand me those stones?” he asked, gesturing to a small pile that had collected between the roots of a nearby tree.

Runaan passed them to him without a word, one by one, and Soren used them to build a ring to contain the fire. Sitting back, he inspected his work and wiped his forehead.

“That should do nicely.”

“It looks really good, Soren.” Rayla said, scooting closer. It was already getting cold. “Now how do we light it?”

“Uhhh.” Soren glanced around the space, thoughtfully chewing his bottom lip. “We’ll just have to use good old fashioned camping know-how.��

“I’ve got it!” Callum said before Soren could begin. He leaned forward, reciting some gobbledygook in whatever-language and tracing a shape in the air. His fingers moved too fast for Soren to make it out, and then they were sparking. He threw the little bolts of lighting into the bundle of dry twigs Soren had gathered and they burst into flame.

“There we go. Fire handled.” Callum puffed out his chest like some sort of strutting bird.

“Is that a new spell?” Rayla asked, turning to him.

“Yep.” Callum said, settling back with his hands folded behind his head. He snapped his fingers, a few stray sparks flying into the air. “Pretty neat, huh?”

“Very.” Rayla said with a playful smile. “There’s no mage quite like you.”

“You could say-” Callum sat up abruptly, throwing her a questioning glance. “Are you making fun of me?”

Rayla rolled her eyes. “Of course not, my most talented mage. I’m being entirely serious.”

“You are teasing me.” Callum chuckled, draping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a quick kiss.

Soren glanced away, feeling a little awkward as the pair of them continued teasing and making eyes at each other. His gaze met Runaan’s as the other elf also looked away, and they shared a sigh. Soren smiled.

The fire burned long into the night, well after Rayla and Callum had - thankfully - reverted to their non-flirtatious selves. They could be so embarrassing, sometimes. Soren was glad he never acted like that.

He poked the fire with a stick. It was getting late, the moon already high above them. They were all on edge, waiting for someone to come barging out of the woods and… Soren didn’t know what. Arrest them? Tell them that King Ezran was disappointed in them? That would probably be worse.

The little creature (rat? monkey? lemur?) on Rayla’s shoulder chirruped, and she lifted it up, cradling it in her arms.

“Shhh, Stella. It’s okay. Go to sleep now.”

She cleared her throat, leaning back against the fall tree beside Callum and humming a soft tune under her breath. After a moment, she began to sing. “Though the sky is dark tonight, I still shine for you, my dear.”

The moon twinkled above them, and Soren settled back against his tree, feeling his own eyes growing heavy. There was something oddly familiar and comforting about the lullaby.

“The moon is more than just her light. I am near, my love is here.” Rayla crooned. 

Soren’s eyes drifted shut. 

Either the room he was in was large, or he was small. Very small. A voice came to him through the foggy echoes of memory, soft and low.

“Though you feel so much alone-” Soren was vaguely aware of a hand gently stroking the hair back from his face. “Oh, my darling, do not fear.”

He tried to place the voice - the touch - to a face. But the more he clung to the dream the more it slipped away.

“Hold to what you’ve always known. I am near, my love is here.”

Soren felt his chest grow tighter, and was suddenly aware of just how little air was in his lungs. The moment began to break apart at the edges, the pieces that remained growing in clarity as he struggled to draw in a breath.

The singer’s voice broke, but she didn’t stop. “Though my face cannot be seen, the answer in your heart is clear.”

Soren drew in a shallow, heaving breath. The hand brushed the damp, sticky strands of his hair back from his forehead.

“I am the moon, the silver queen.”

The face above him swam into focus, soft and kind. Her smile was sad, but warm. The moonlight filtering through the window above Soren’s bed reflected in her eyes, making them shine just like the little silver cuffs on her horns.  “I am near, my love is here.” Lissa told him.

[strrynigghts]

dinner is served

— könig x main cod members x fem!reader

— cw/tw: mentions of food (eating + making + serving), feeling lonely despite being in a room of people, könig and reader are friends, not proofread, lmk if I’ve missed any!

— summary: könig joins you for dinner

— an: visited my family as I finally moved closer to them, and decided to make them dinner! was excited until I was the only one at the dinner table :) I also want to apologise for going mia! I moved to a different state and I still need to get all my stuff settled! also note that I’ve never played a damn cod game in my entire life and only know who’s who by reading fics written by others or from doing research for 10 seconds, so please excuse any cod mistakes!

after a long day of training with the 141, you’ve decided that you’d make a nice meal for everyone. you enjoyed cooking for them, and it’s been a while since you’ve last been able to make them, and yourself, a decent meal.

you knew it wasn’t going to be easy—the kitchen was loaded with mres—but luckily, the chefs from last night left a couple things behind.

you found mac ‘n cheese, green beans, chicken strips, and lettuce. it was more than plenty to work with, but you were excited to cook regardless.

opening the cans of carrots and green beans, you dumped them into their respective pots, adding salt and pepper as well as butter, to them both. you placed the chicken on a tray and popped them in the oven, and chopped up the lettuce and placed it into the fridge.

after about fifteen minutes, everything was done! you were happy and smiling and very excited to feed your teammates! you knew they loved your cooking, and they were so grateful when you did cook.

you grabbed out plates and cups, putting a little bit of everything onto their plates. you knew that most of them didn’t mind their food touching, but alejandro was sorta picky and didn’t like it when his veggie juice touched other foods. adding tea or water into certain cups, you’ve backed away to admire your work. it was beautifully done and you felt so proud!

“boys! dinner!” you yelled, and much like a stampede, they all came running—except for könig? “made y’all chicken, mac ‘n cheese, salad, and some green beans with carrots to go along with it. it’s important to eat your veggies.”

“thank you lass,” ghost and a few others said. you knew that even though some didn’t say their thanks, that they were still thankful.

“thank you love,” price chimed in, after you’ve passed all plates out—except for königs and yours. they all walked over to the room next to the kitchen and flicked the tv on, three of them on the couch and two of them in the loveseats.

grabbing a plate yourself, you proceeded to add whatever you wanted onto your plate. you always served yourself last when it came to making them food. you didn’t mind, you knew very well that they required more calories due to how much more extensive their training was.

you looked at königs plate, popping it into the microwave for a minute to keep it warm at least. you knew it wasn’t far behind the others, always showing up after the others all have settled into their seats. you grabbed yours and looked at the boys: there weren’t any seats left, and you didn’t like sitting on the floor. you sighed quietly and sat at the table near the kitchen.

there was a lump in your throat, however. you were so excited to finally cook for your team, for your family, but then they go into a different room and turn the tv on. you wanted to talk them, wanted them to talk to you, share stories, all that jazz. the laughter they shared just then didn’t help the lump go down either. your elbows were hanging off the table and your fork poked at your plate. you weren’t even hungry anymore.

you were too far into your mind that you didn’t notice könig grab his plate from the microwave and sit down at the table until he reached out for your hand. you looked up at him and although you couldn’t see it, you knew his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes staring at you.

“are you okay, y/n?” he sounded so worried, removing his hand away as he sat straighter, raising his mask just to his nose before he went to take a bite.

“not really that hungry anymore.” you cleared your throat, offering him a weak smile as you stared back at him.

“pft, such nonsense maus! this is really good.”

you looked away, biting your lip as you sat in silence for a brief moment. you looked back at könig, only to see that he has his spoon up in your face, offering you a bite despite having your own plate right there. “c’mon, take a bite!” he shoved it closer to your face and you laughed softly, allowing the spoon to push past your lips.

könig pulled the spoon away and chuckled. “see? it’s good isn’t it, ja?”

you felt much better now that your best friend was eating at the table with you, making you laugh <3

image credit found here

[givemea-dam-break]

that funny feeling (locklyle)

a/n: this is my first locklyle fic please by kind lmfao. convinced to write this by the amazing @neewtmas and @waitingforthesunrise, so i hope you all enjoy this - it was inspired by the locklyle angst playlist a bunch of us have going so be warned :) this also brings holly munro into the story, but don't worry if you haven't read the books because i don't mention her too much. it isn't too long since i'm just testing the waters for my locklyle stuff lol

warnings: big sad taglist: @wellgoslowly @galactidiot

part 2

The days were beginning to melt together.

How long had he been lying here, hoping, praying, for Lucy to come back? For her to walk through the front door, bags in hand, declaring that she was coming back? That she never meant to leave? A few weeks, maybe. Or was it months? He had lost track of time.

Her absence was a tangible thing, something that he could reach out and feel so acutely that its sharp, jagged edges sliced his fingertips and cut deep into his heart. But, even still, sometimes he'd forget. He'd make her a cup of tea in the morning, just how she liked it - more milk than he or George would take, sometimes with a spoonful of honey if she wanted a little sweetness - only for it to sit atop the counter, growing cold. Neither he nor George had the heart to empty it into the sink. Holly would arrive, expecting it, and dump it out, but Lockwood knew that it pained her to do so too.

Waiting was useless. There were things that needed to get done. Cases for Lockwood and Co were piling up after the antics of last November, and they were steadily gaining a reputation. He needed to focus on that. On the thing he had always wanted.

But what was it worth when the one person he wanted most wasn't there, right by his side?

Part of him hoped that Lucy would see his pictures in the newspaper. Maybe she'd miss him as much as he did her, maybe it would be the thing that made her realise that she didn't need to leave. That she could come back.

He still couldn't make sense of her sudden resignation. She was worried that she couldn't control her Talents well enough, that she'd put them all in danger. But how could she? When she was the very thing that had saved Lockwood time and time again?

So, there he lay, sprawled on the attic's bed. The bed she once lay in night after night for years now. It still smelled like her; of lavender and some nice soap he couldn't distinguish. His excuse? This room was once his, and he was feeling reminiscent. He missed looking out of the window onto the street behind Portland Row, down into the back garden where the apple trees stood tall. He missed the warmth that flooded the room during the day, and the calm, soothing cool at night.

Everyone knew better, and he knew that, too.

Sometimes he'd just lie there, thoughtless and quiet. Other times, he would talk as if Lucy was there in the room with him. He'd practice his speech, the one he'd use to finally get her back, gazing at the picture he kept on her nightstand - one of the two of them and George she'd taken on an old camera she'd found stuffed in the wardrobe. She'd run down the stairs excitedly, demanding a picture, and George was forced into it, which his half-smiling expression showed. If Lockwood looked close enough, he could see the faint green glow on the lower right side of all of their faces from Skull, who had been pulling horrid faces at them.

He loved that picture with his whole heart. Her smile, so radiant, was completely and entirely entrancing, and she just seemed so, so happy with her face pressed up against his. So what went wrong?

Heaving a sigh, he released the pillow he so often clung to desperately like a child, and sat up. There were things that needed to be done. Research for a case. Make some new salt bombs. Have a shower. Had he already had one? He couldn't very well remember.

He could hear George clattering around downstairs doing God knows what - he wasn't too fond of the idea of finding out, petrified at the thought of finding his best friend half-naked doing some sort of yoga again - and there was Holly just down the stairs, muttering something or other. She did that often now. He could never tell what it was she was saying, but he recognised the lost look in her eyes. She and Lucy may not have been on the best of terms, but she missed her. Badly.

This was always the worst part. Starting the day.

Without Lucy, the whole routine felt empty. Where was her smile, or her snarky comments directed at Skull, the same ones he often worried were actually for him? Where were those bright eyes that would look at him with such happiness when he paid her a - supposedly - mindless compliment? Or the moments where she'd put him in his place with just a few words? Oh, how he missed those dearly.

It always left a funny feeling in his chest, thinking about those times. A mixture of a strange grief, a mourning for someone who had not died but rather had left of their own volition, and of horrible loss, almost like losing a limb. Like losing a crucial part of himself. Because, really, that's what Lucy was to him. She was everything.

Even still, he dragged himself from her bed, lingering for a moment in the doorway of the bedroom like he always did, before trudging down, down, down to the kitchen.

Relieved to find George not in the midst of a horrific yoga demonstration, but rather shoving pots and pans into the cupboards, he brewed himself some tea.

He tried to ignore the way his hand hovered in front of Lucy's mug, which was stained from the tea they never seemed to be able to fully scrub away, and sat at the table, staring into the murky brown of his brew. Lucy always made it look so much more appealing.

No matter how hard he tried to disregard the little things, she seemed to be everywhere he looked. There was a sketch on the thinking cloth of Inspector Barnes as an elephant, tooting his trunk. And, there, the vase of flowers she'd set during their last meal together, a bundle of long-since-wilted lilacs she'd picked from the back garden. Over on the counter, there was a large circular ring where Skull would often reside, covered by a teatowel, and it was as if his evil had seeped from the silverglass and into the countertop, never to be removed.

Lockwood wondered if Skull, as crude as he was, was at least keeping Lucy company. He'd hate for her to be on her own.

"I don't know how Holly does this," George grumbled. He shoved another pan into the cupboard haphazardly. "It's impossible."

As if on cue, the pans toppled, crashing down around George and onto the floor. Holly appeared seconds later, scolding him as she easily slotted them in and shut the door.

Like every other day, there was a certain tension in the air that none of them seemed to be able to shake, no matter how hard they tried. Holly could bring all the almond-iced doughnuts she could carry; George could make the most absurd comments to ever have graced this earth to make them laugh; hell, Lockwood could smile and charm all he wanted, but it never amounted to anything. Not without Lucy.

He had been searching for a reason to get her back since the day he'd left her at that café, too frustrated and dejected to even try and continue the conversation. Were there any cases he could hire her for now that she was an independent agent? That seemed like the only logically sound way to get her to be with them again. To be with him. He couldn't just turn up to her new flat, so far away from Portland Row, and beg her to come home. No matter how badly he wished he could.

So, he picked up his newspaper and flicked through it, hoping to forget about her for just a moment.

But it was impossible. How could one simply forget about Lucy Carlyle? Lucy Carlyle and her jibes; Lucy Carlyle and her beautiful smile and eyes; Lucy Carlyle and the warmth she provided Lockwood with. Especially when her adverts were in the paper.

Lockwood could not forget about her for even a moment, something he had come to realise every single day since she'd left. Not after she'd allowed him to feel. To feel pure joy and humour and wonderful frustration and love.

That's perhaps what hurt the most about it all. Not her reasoning. Not the suddenness of it. Rather, the things she'd arisen inside of him, feelings he hadn't truly allowed since the deaths of his family. Letting people in was far too real, and he didn't want to permit them to the same fates as the other people he had loved and lost. But Lucy, oh, Lucy. She was supposed to be different. She was supposed to stay.

But she left, and he missed her more than should ever be possible. He knew he should've expected it, but he had allowed himself to hope. Lucy had sparked that hope inside of him, and even now it still lingered, waiting for her to return.

He was stupid for it, he knew. It was the only thing that kept him going - the notion that she may decide that she was wrong and come back to him. But it was unlikely to happen. So he had to come to terms with it, as would Holly and George.

And, so, her seat would stay vacant. Her mug would remain stained. Lockwood would creep into her room at night, falling asleep under the watchful eye of her photograph. All the while, she would sleep beneath a different roof, under the same sky, so, so far from him.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Any updates on those drabbles 😣🫣🫣

IT'S GOING WELL AHAHAHAH !! Here is one I wrote just from my own inspo bc I was listening to Drake, it's kind of silly, but Eren is totally a frat bro who listens to Drake and thinks he's the shit lmfaoooo! I was listening to girls want girls and I was like Mikasa totally HATES him for this and I couldn't get the mental imagery out of my head lol !!

“Go on Mikasa, you’ll be late and Eren won’t want to take you home.” Mikasa scowls miserably at the reminder, her lip curling up, teeth clenched together as she realizes what the next hour and a half of her life has to offer her. 

“Maybe I should get a buss pass.” “Mikasa hush,” Her mother chastises her, pushing her towards the door, her backpack in hand and a bag of chips for the road. She feels like a school girl being shooed off for her first day of kindergarten, her mom tugging at her hair fretfully, righting the small green t-shirt dress that she now regrets wearing immensely. 

When her mother is finally pleased, she steps back, one last perfunctory glance over before she nods to herself resolutely, “You look very nice.” Mikasa scowls harder and her mother makes a noise of irritation, “You’ll wrinkle, stop that!” 

She forces her face into a neutral expression just as her mother pushes her out the door with one last lingering kiss goodbye, “Have a good drive darling, be nice to Eren. He’s doing you a favour you know!” And that’s how Mikasa finds herself in the familiar situation, high school all over again as she waits at the end of her walk way, backpack in hand, and chillier than she should be in the warm spring weather. Damned green dress, she should have worn ripped jeans, the wind is too cold on her exposed thighs. And of course, Eren is fucking late. Mikasa glances down at her watch again, 6:15, he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, had texted her that he was leaving from his obnoxiously large house down the street. She could have fucking walked there and been faster. 

Her irritated thoughts are interrupted by the tell-tale sounds of Eren’s arrival, thumping base, engine so loud it shakes the street lamps. It’s a brand new Subaru, sleek black and tricked out so much she doesn’t even want to know how much money he’s dumped into it. 

She fucking hates the thing, it’s obnoxious. Yet, she also can’t deny the little flutter in her heart every time he pulls up to her house in it, what the neighbours must think of her, that she has a handsome rich boyfriend at her beck and call. She doesn’t, she has an idiotic sexist frat boy instead. 

The only thing louder than the engine of Eren’s stupid car is his music, and he pulls up, windows down, the undeniable beat of a Drake album infecting her ears. His sunglasses slip down his nose as he pulls up, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching towards her out the window, a sweet serenade… if not for the fucking lyrics. “Say that you a lesbian, girl me too.”

This is Mikasa’s final straw, her mouth parted in pure outrage as the music pours over the street. “I’m not getting in the car.” Her voice is barely audible over the engine and the base and Eren pouts as he turns it down, putting the car in park, “What?” “I’m not getting in the car.” Eren groans, “Mikasa.” Is it too late to take the bus? She glances towards the lone bus stop a few paces down the street, the bus she’s never taken because she’s always had her irritating neighbour to chauffeur her around. She vacillates for a moment, but one look at Eren’s smug face, the disgustingly expensive dior shades slipping down his nose, the tight grey t-shirt clinging to his arm.

Mikasa starts walking. “Miki,” Eren whines, and she makes it several paces away before he’s following her at a crawl, “Please my mom will kill me if you take the bus.” “I’m not getting in the car if you’re going to play that.” “It’s Drake!” Eren exclaims as if this excuses his faux pas!

“It’s sexist as hell and a little homophobic,” Mikasa bursts and Eren sighs deeply, “If I turn it off will you get in the fucking car?” 

“I’ll consider it.” He pauses it for a moment, putting the car back in park and gesturing for her to get in. 

Mikasa acquiesces, but only after an appropriate amount of glaring, she has to make him work for it. Eren opens the door for her from the inside, almost a gentleman but not quite, grabbing her backpack from her hands before chucking it into the back seat. “Why do you always have to be such a pain in the ass?” He asks without bite, his gaze honed in on her legs as she sinks into the plush leather of the passenger seat. 

She smacks his shoulder, both for the remark and for the way he’s now unabashedly staring at her thighs where her dress has slipped just a little too high. And if she wore this dress for him, for exactly this reason, who is to say? He’ll never know. 

“Ow,” His gaze finally snaps up to her face, the lips pulled into a pout, green eyes sparkling with amusement, “God you’re so mean to me Mikasa.” “Someone has to be!” He grumbles something in response and Mikasa holds her hand up threateningly, another smack to that ridiculously well-muscled arm of his. Because seriously she’d probably done more damage to her palm, who said he could be so muscle-y? 

He fiddles with his phone for a moment, hitting the shuffle button and Mikassa glances at her own phone as she waits for him to drive off. The music cues up just as Eren’s hand grabs for the shifter, his foot shifting to the break peddle as he changes gears and Mikasa’s mouth parts in a mixture of shock and horror as the infectious beat of the next song slides over them, somehow even louder than before. “Bend that ass over! Let that coochie breathe!” It’s silent between them, save for the music between them, and she watches as Eren turns towards her almost robotically as ‘Rich Baby Daddy’ flows over the speakers. “I’m going to kill you.” 

“Mikasa!” 

She smacks him again, more aggressively this time, “It’s my drake playlist I just hit shuffle I swear.” She smacks him again for good measure, “Sexist asshole!” 

He throws his hands up in surrender, trying to escape to his side of the car as he slips it back into park, “It’s not even sexy, really if you think about it, it’s women’s empowerment!” Mikasa almost assaults him in his own car, throwing herself over the console to get better access so she can finally throttle him. 

He catches her wrist in his hands just as she makes her way across the console, her dress riding up much higher than is appropriate, threatening to show off the black lacy panties she’d chosen just in case she was feeling frisky.

“It’s a good song, don’t tell me you don’t bop to this during your gym sessions, c’mon Mika.” She will never admit that it’s on her running playlist, over her dead body, never! “I don’t!” Mikasa lies through her teeth and Eren manhandles her into a more comfortable position, tugging her all the way over the console and into her lap, and fuck why does she always end up in his arms? She’s breathing hard, fuming from their fight, hair a mess and cheeks ruddier than she’d like, he’s stolen her composure once again with barely a word. 

Carefully, he reaches past her to change the song, looking at her with suspicion the entire time, letting her wrists go with the other, “Happy now?” “No,” Mikasa scowls and Eren groans, “You’re so sensitive.” “I am not!” She’s about to launch into another rant about the patriarchy and the sexism of male rappers and blatant sexualization of women in all these songs but Eren just shakes his head, “Please don’t lecture me again, I’ll let you pick the next song, I cannot do another hour and a half lecture.” She loses her steam a little, remembering the ride up from university back home for reading break, she might have gone a little overboard there. “Besides, it’s catchy, just admit it.” Mikasa pouts, “It is catchy.” “Thank you!” As she calms down she realizes she has once again found herself in Eren’s lap, in close quarters with the boy she likes to fuck on occasion, who haunts her dreams more often than should be allowed, and well, he’s definitely starting to notice too. His eyes are now locked on where her thighs bracket his own, how she’s sitting so pretty, that if they were naked he’d slip inside right now, and with how fucking wet she is it would be easy. Shit. 

She’s about to sit up, but Eren’s hands settle over her thighs, rubbing tantalizingly up and down, warming her up from the inside out in her silly little dress. “You know,” Eren starts, his eyes locked on her mouth now, the teasing edge to his voice gone, replaced with something a little darker now, raspy with lust, “It’s really not sexist, actually kind of empowering.” “How so?” She asks, sinking further into his lap, just the hint of a grind as she feels him harden beneath her and god why does she always want him, even when he’s being a colossal asshole. “Rich baby daddy, I think she’s just using him for money, so really she’s winning here.” Mikasa scoffs, “Sure.” His mouth slips down to her neck, “You know if your birth control failed, I could be your rich baby daddy Mika.” 

Eren speaks with all the confidence of a man who was inside her not two days ago and definitely came inside her without a condom, and she fucking hates that it turns her on.

He lays hot open-mouthed kisses up her neck, his teeth nibbling at her ear now, her heart in her throat, “Probably spoil you rotten to be honest, you’re too pretty to work Miki, think I’d keep you just for me.” “Fuck off,” She whispers but there’s no real heat behind it, not when his hands are skimming at the hem of her dress, teasing at the edge of her cunt. “I think you’d like it.” “I think I hate you.” “Nah,” He murmurs against her throat, “You don’t.” 

And then he’s stealing her lips in a kiss that has her seeing stars, and she’s making out with Eren fucking Yeager in their neighbourhood cul-de-sac at 5:30 on a Sunday night, in prime view of dog walkers and horrified families. 

Eventually, she forces herself off of him, glaring the whole time, and he lets her choose the music as penance, to which she chooses some Drake that’s a little more tame, not something she can get quite so up in arms about.

She pretends to pout the entire ride back to school, but she shares her all-dressed chips with him and when his hand finds her thigh ten minutes into the drive she doesn’t protest. 

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-09-16

It's Autumn

This is late because turns out there's not really a polite way to finish tapping out your Mondaypost when someone else is already in your bed.

Listening: a recommendation from the Topic Lords podcast, Ancient Sword Cult by Writhen Hilt. It's about swords!

Epic fantasy metal is a tremendously funny genre.

Watching: Watched Saloum with @thosearentcrimes because we heard it on Kill James Bond and both went "that sounds cool as hell" and it was!

Another great addition to the group of films where guys turn to the camera and go "Hey does anyone else feel doomed."

This is a really tense and well put together crime drama, some top-tier monologues and characters who are going all out. Very much worth watching without looking up too much about it I think.

Reading: Started A Desolation Called Peace a few days ago. Three Seagrass! She's so clueless! Man my girlfriend is so cool it's a shame she's not a complete person.

Having read Memory, then all of The Masquerade, and now Desolation, I think this gives me an interesting look at what I like and don't like about each series. Teixcalaan doesn't spend so much time obsessing over little world details, instead building a culture and atmosphere of empire that I really enjoy. The Masquerade is more on the ground which has benefits, but it's somewhat artificial feeling. It's at its best in the very personal moments around Baru and the other cryptarchs.

Still getting through Desolation though.

Playing: Mine Craft. I've been fiddling with some mods like Distant Horizons which does low-res renders of the world out way further than the stock game. I always get back into Minecraft for like three weeks and then put it down for another year. I have a whole lot of thinking done on how the game design of Minecraft is very cleverly pushing on different kinds of players

Making: Printing again for the first time in a while, more home objects. Finally have an excuse to get dozens of tiny neodymium magnets!

Tools and Equipment: I got a new-ish oscilloscope! Proper digital one too, Hantek DSO2D10. It has one feature I consider a nice-to-have and one feature I consider essential for cramped home lab use.

The essential feature is a built-in signal generator. Sure, it can only do a couple dozen MHz cleanly and "cleanly" is being generous there, but for like a $50 premium over a similar non-generator scope you get a single channel generator with arbitrary waveform capabilities, very handy. Saves a lot of space and makes you more likely to actually use the damn thing.

The nice-to-have is built-in logic analyzer features. Yes, a digital logic analyzer will do this better and cheaper, and yes, you could even just dump the waveform and analyze it on a computer, but being able to poke around on a board and just hit "tell me what I'm looking at here" on a random bitstream is tremendously valuable for speed and comfort.

The DSO series is pretty cheap, they're no Tektronix or Keysight, but they're a damn side better than pure analogue, having used pure analogue for a long time. Just skip it, storage and maths functions are so worth it.

[sergeantsporks]

I think your still taking these so, writing request:

Hunter just casually truma dumping, thinking his experience is normal, and the adults are horrified.

CW: Referenced child abuse

“Hey, Hunter!”

Hunter looked up from his checklist at Camila’s call. “Oh. Hi. Enjoying the party?”

Camila chuckled, squeezing between two demons to get to him. “Excuse me—pardon. You look great, I love the eyeball hat.” She stopped next to him. “My first demon realm party! I think they’re finally getting used to having another human around!”

“I made the guest list.”

“Oh.”

“Not that they don’t want you here!” Hunter followed up quickly, “I mean. Helped save the isles and all that. Local hero.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” Camila puffed a strand of hair out of her face. “You did a great job planning, sweetheart. Everyone looks like they’re having fun! I’d say this ‘yay we rebuilt Hexside’ opening party is a success.”

Hunter flushed, looking down at his checklist. “Thanks. I did a lot of research, and Darius helped with a few of the details. But I still have to make sure everything runs smoothly. Party’s not over yet, and a lot of things could go wrong!”

“Ah, relax, kid.” Eda came around from behind him and handed Camila a cup of punch. “Enjoy your own party! Take a break, you did the hard part, and now it’s time to kick back! Here.” She held out another cup of punch, and Hunter fumbled with his clipboard, shifting it and his pen to one hand.

“Uh—thaaaaaaanksssssss…” Hunter sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, okay, nice try. You’re not going to get me that easy, Eda.”

“Get you what now?”

Hunter pushed the cup back towards her. “Very funny. Give it up.”

“Give what up?”

“I know it’s poison. Good joke, good try, but I have a party to run, and I’m not going to fall for it.”

“What? I’m not trying to poison you, I’m trying to hydrate you, nerd.”

Hunter chuckled. “Okay, sure. You drink it, then.”

Eda rolled her eyes, downed the punch, then ate the cup. “There. No punch for you.”

“Eda,” Camila scolded.

“What? The owl beast likes eating weird things!”

“Birds can’t eat plastic!”

“Most birds don’t have teeth inside their stomach, either.”

Hunter eyed Eda. “Your commitment is admirable. Please get an antidote soon.”

“For the—okay, maybe I’m tempted now, but why would I want to poison you?!”

“Geeze, you don’t get out much, huh? When was the last time you went to a party?”

“I—” Eda sputtered, “What?!”

Bump glided over. “What’s the problem, here?”

“Eda drank poison and is still denying it,” Hunter told him, “When she collapses, please take her to the healing homeroom.

“WHAT?!”

Hunter tapped his pen against his lips. “Don’t worry, the party will go on as normal, I planned for a poisoning.”

“You did what?!”

Hunter chuckled. “This isn’t my first party. Although I’m usually the one who ends up poisoned somehow. This is a nice change.”

“Hunter?” Camila asked in a strangled whisper, “What do you mean?”

Hunter waved a hand. “Oh, you know the saying! It’s not a party ‘til someone gets poisoned!” He looked up at the adults, who were all just staring at him, facial expressions ranging from pity to downright horror. “What? Lilith used to say it all the time. Usually right after someone, usually me, got poisoned. Sure, it was probably meant for one of the coven heads and not me at the time, but I was probably the only one with any poison resistance training anyway, so that was for the best.” Hunter clicked his pen back and forth a couple of times. “Eda, I don’t know how much poison… resistance… you’ve…”

Click, click, click, click.

“Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Click, click, click, click, clickclickclickclickclick.

“Hunter,” Camila started gently.

Clickclickclickclickclickclick.

“’s not normal, is it.”

“Well, I’ve heard a similar saying!” Bump tried, “Granted, it was about crying, not poisoning, but…”

Hunter tossed the pen against the clipboard. “Of course it’s not normal. Of course not. Why can’t one thing be normal, why can’t I have ever done one normal thing in my life? Why is everything about my life wrong to everyone?!”

“Hey—” Eda held her hands up. “Hunter—”

“I get it, okay? I get that—that Belos—I got it, the hot and cold treatment wasn’t normal, getting told I was special but replaceable wasn’t normal, getting…” Hunter’s breath hitched in his chest, and he clutched at his head. “…getting hurt by him wasn’t normal,” he whispered, “I got all that. But why can’t any one thing I say ever be normal?!”

He looked up at the adults who were all just looking, they were all just staring at him, and it wasn’t just Bump, and Camila, and Eda, it was everyone. They’d all stopped dancing, or talking, or eating just to stare.

Hunter’s heart thudded in his chest, and he walked towards the door as quickly as he could without running, pushing past the people who kept staring at him, their eyes burning into his back.

The instant he made it to the hallway, he ran, bolting through the hallways and away from the gym. He pushed through a set of doors and hopped up onto a stage, stomping over to the wings, behind the curtain, where it was dark and quiet. Hunter slid down the wall, landing with a whump on the ground.

Why can’t something just be normal?

Why can’t you just be normal?

Why do you always make everyone uncomfortable?!

“Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut,” he whispered into the darkness, “Maybe Belos was right about that.”

Footsteps echoed down the hallway—the clicks of Eda’s heels, the tap of Camila’s flats, and a heavier thump.

“This seems… more your kind of situation,” Camila’s voice murmured.

Hunter heard the sound of a clap. “Yeah, stuff from the coven we don’t understand is your wheelhouse.”

The door to the auditorium creaked open—apparently no one had oiled the hinges in all of the repairs—and those heavy thumps came towards the stage.

“Go away!” Hunter called, “Eda said it, the party will be fine, even if I’m not there.”

“Who cares about the party?” Darius snorted, leaning against the wall next to Hunter, “Well. You do. But I’m not here for the party.”

“You should go anyway. Just leave me here, I did all that work for it and then I was the one who nearly ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it. Even if you did, what’s the point of throwing a party if you don’t get to dramatically ruin it?” Darius waved a hand. “I’ve had a couple of parties… but that’s beside the point.”

Hunter curled his knees to his chest. “I didn’t do anything normal. Ever. And it’s not even just like—like I just missed out on experiences, it’s like I did the opposite of things that are normal.”

“Mmm. That’s not true. You had a teenage rebellion. That’s normal.”

“I mean before. Before I went to the human realm, before I met Luz, nothing I did was normal. Nothing at all. Even the parties, parties are normal things, but the ones I went to… what was normal at those gatherings aren’t normal party things.”

Darius let out a long sigh. “Poisonings at those parties wasn’t normal, either.”

“What?”

“They weren’t normal.”

“But Lilith always said—”

“Lilith didn’t say that because it was normal, Lilith said that so she could appear calm and in control. Lilith said that to keep the party from going sour and tarnishing her reputation. Lilith investigated each case thoroughly and obsessively afterwards, and she always found the culprit.”

“But they were normal to me, Darius!” Hunter stood, grabbing Darius’ arms, as if that would make him understand. “They were normal to me, and that’s the problem! It was normal to me to get poisoned on the regular, it was normal to not have any friends, it was normal to get up at five in the morning, it was normal, all of it was normal! It was normal for Belos to lash out, it was normal for Belos to hit me, it was normal!” He let go of Darius’ arms, sinking back down to the floor and hugging himself. “And now it’s not.”

Darius let out a long sigh, then finally dropped down next to Hunter, one knee up, and his arm resting on that knee. “I had a normal childhood.”

“Good for you?”

“Thanks. I had a normal childhood. And then from the moment I met your predecessor, nothing else was normal. It’s not normal for your mentor to disappear mysteriously. It’s not normal to become a coven head at age twenty. It’s not normal to find out that your emperor is planning on exterminating his entire realm, or at least I don’t think it is. It wasn’t normal for some kid to be running around the coven in a high rank position. It isn’t normal for me to ignore that. It’s not normal for a god-child to burst out of nowhere and turn the isles into his playplace. None of my adulthood has been normal.” Darius waved a hand at the air in front of him. “Camila’s child disappeared to another dimension, and then she traveled to another realm herself to fight a dictator and a god child! That’s not normal! And Eda—actually, I don’t think Eda’s had a single normal day in her entire life.”

Darius settled back again. “My point is, the isles haven’t exactly been ‘normal.’ Not for a while. No one’s had a perfectly normal life. Not you. Not me. Not anyone.”

“Then why does everyone act like it’s the worst thing to happen?!”

Darius drew a hand over his face with a long sigh. “It’s not because it’s not normal, Hunter, it’s… it’s because you got hurt, and you don’t seem to think that you did. And they—we—get worried that you’ll be hurt again, and that you won’t realize it, because you think it’s just normal. And that’s why they look at you like that. We want to make sure you know it wasn’t normal, because we don’t want it to happen to you again. Does that make sense?”

Hunter sighed. “I guess.”

“We’re not leaving this auditorium until you’re sure.”

“It’s because they care,” Hunter grumbled, “I know. I know it’s because they care.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it. If they make you uncomfortable when they do that, you just have to tell them. They’ll understand, they won’t be angry.”

“Mhm.”

Darius got up, dusting his cape off. “I see that I have my exhausted my ‘get in touch with your feelings’ limit for the day, and you’re just agreeing so that you can leave this conversation, so I suppose that means said conversation is over.”

“It’s not you, it’s…”

“You know it in your head, but you don’t really feel it, of course, of course.” Darius snapped his fingers, and Hunter’s clipboard appeared in a bubble of abomination. “I will take over making sure the party runs smoothly. You go enjoy it. Titan knows you should get some fun out of it after all that planning and stressing. Really. I swear you are like one of those human sharks, if you stop moving you die.”

Hunter scrambled to his feet. “Are you sure?”

Darius waved a hand. “Yes, yes, yes. I just walk around and check things off this list? Excellent. Now go. Oh, and Hunter?”

“Yes?”

“No one will get poisoned on my watch.”

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - ch 7

Who wants a lot of fluff with Rowan playing dad? This chapter is nothing but Rowan enjoying some great time with his daughter

When Friday eventually arrived Rowan was elated and could not contain his excitement. The day he would finally get Maya for an entire weekend had arrived and he was just counting down the hours. He had spent the week preparing the room for her, bought a nice duvet with a space theme, some basic furniture and toys as well. But he stopped his spending frenzy when he realised he still knew very little about her. Priority number one had been the car seat and the of course baby proof the house. She was five but his research online had told him it was safe because toddlers loved exploring where they were not meant to. And of course food. He had a list of possible recipes and foods that she might like and stocked up fridge and pantry. Eventually Aelin called him and told him that the bags were ready at the shop for him to collect.

Rowan indulged in leaving the office a little earlier, with the excuse that he had to go to the school and was still not used to the whole picking up a child from school. 

He took his work pickup and smiled at seeing the car seat in the back. That was just for that trip, he was going to move it back on his car. Now he was at the school and he was nervous.

Aelin had given him instruction were to park and where to go. Dutifully he left his pickup and ignored all the eyes turning to the fire department vehicle.

He joined the other parents outside the gates and noticed a few women staring at him.

“You must be new,” asked one “Which one is yours?”

“Oh I am just doing a favour to a friend.” 

“You are a firefighter?” Asked another one getting closer.

“Yes.” He hoped school finished soon so he could escape as quickly as possible.

Fate had pity on him and the bell rang, allowing the parents in . Rowan followed the instruction Aelin gave him and found Maya’s class.

“Whitethorn, I am here for Maya Galathynius.”

The teacher nodded “Aelin told us.” She weaved a hand “Maya darling, time to go home.”

A moment later a small tornado crashed again his legs “Rowan!!”

He crouched down “Hi you, ready to go?”

“Yes.” He grabbed her backpack and together they left the premises under the stare of almost all the mothers. He would have to give Aelin a head’s up of possible gossip coming.

When they reached his vehicle Maya was beaming “Is this yours?”

“Yes, it’s my work pickup. I am a firefighter.”

Maya gave him the most stunning smile “Let me help you in.”

Carefully he fastened her in and went at the front “Did you have a nice day?”

“Yes, we have learned more letters,” she replied happily “Can I write your name?”

“Of course, but at home.”

Next stop was the shop and he had to park near the river and walk hand in hand with Maya. The feeling was incredible and his daughters loved to tell him stories about some of the places and he listened.

“Hi Elide,” she screamed as they got inside the shop.

“Hi muffin,” the woman crouched down and squeezed hard “Ready for your weekend of fun with Rowan?”

Maya hugged his legs tenderly “so much.”

“Go and choose three books while I get your clothes from auntie Elide.”

Maya squealed and ran away.

Elide stared at Rowan admiring his daughter “You are already in love with her, aren’t you?”

“How could I not?” He added softly.

“This was a big step for Aelin.”

“I know and I am extremely grateful. I have been counting down the hours to this.”

Elide laughed and passed him the bags “Aelin packed a lot of her stuff, since you have no clothes for her. I think she dumped a lot of spares because you know… toddlers.”

“Yes, I have bought some too. They were so cute and I just could not resist.”

“Rowan, look, I have three.” Maya walked to him with her trophies.

Rowan crouched down and laughed”These are four but it’s fine. You can have all the books you want.”

Elide rang the items through the till and passed a bag to Maya “Go and have fun you two.”

They waved goodbye and went back to the car with Rowan carrying three duffels bags.

The drive home took a bit longer as the path to his house was snowier than usual and he was very careful at the presence he had with him “You live in the woods.”

“I do, do you like the woods?”

Maya nodded energetically “Mama and I walk a lot.”

At the house he heard his daughter gasp “your house is big.”

Rowan chuckled and went to free her.

“Let’s go in, it’s cold.”

In the lobby he removed her coat and her shoes and gave her slippers he had bought for her.

Once inside Maya was stunned “pretty.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Come, we are going upstairs and get changed.”

Slowly Maya climbed the stairs while Rowan followed behind keeping a tight an eye on her.

“Ready for your room?”

He opened the door and Maya ran inside and then he had to help her climb on the bed “It’s so big.”

He did not have a single bed so he had kept the double one.

While Maya explored the room and the few belongings he had placed, Rowan unpacked her clothes and took out her pyjama. He chose the elf one and called Maya “Come here so I can change your clothes.”

She walked to him hugging the elf toy he had bought her and that he had placed on the bed “Do you like that?”

“Yes, is it for me?”

“Of course.”

She hugged him “thank you.”

“Now pj on and then we can have dinner.”

Rowan helped Maya undress and then wear the night clothes. She looked adorable in the elf pyjama.

Once done, he lifted her in his arms and walked back downstairs.  

“Food?”

“Yeeeess!” She roared.

In the kitchen he sat her on a chair “Do you like mac and cheese?”

“Yes, nana makes it a lot. Mama loves it too.”

“Good,” he added, while getting all the ingredients ready “do you want to go and see hockey with me tomorrow?”

Maya’s face lit up, her green eyes shining in utter joy “The Stags?”

Rowan crouched and pushed away a rebel hair from her face “Yes. Do you like them too?”

“Yes, mama says they are the only team to like.”

Rowan laughed and stood again “your mum is absolutely right. They are the best team.”

“I want to play hockey too.”

He smiled “your mum told me, she is looking for a team for young kids.”

“I am not young. I am six in January.” She pouted.

Rowan bowed deeply “I am sorry m’lady, you are a big girl.” And at that she seemed to regain her cheerfulness pretty quickly.

When food was ready he sat at her side. He had even bought plates and cutlery for kids because they were lighter and easier to hold with smaller hands.

They were chatting away when Rowan’s phone rang and he saw it was Aelin. “Want to say hi to mum?”

He activated the video call and placed the phone against the jug of water.

“Mama.”

“Hello my love, are you having fun at Rowan’s?”

Maya eat a spoonful of her food “Yes. He made mac and cheese.”

“Oh you like that.”

“Yes and it’s really good.” She added “and I have a big room like a big girl. He bought me four books and an elf.” She lifted the toy so Aelin could see it.

“Mama misses you a lot.”

“I miss you too but I am having fun as well. Rowan has a big house in the woods. It’s so pretty.”

Aelin laughed on the other line “Good, promise me you will be good.”

“Yes, tomorrow we are going to the hockey.”

Aelin gasped “Now I am jealous. Make sure you wear your jersey, it’s in your bag. And take a lot of photos for me.”

Maya nodded and went back to her food “can I speak to your d— Rowan?”

He picked up the phone and switched off the camera and leaned against the counter while keeping an eye on Maya.

“It sounds like she is having a great time.”

Rowan chuckled “she is not the only one,” he whispered “I love so much having her here. I went on a shopping spree. Thank you for this.”

“She is very low maintenance, keep her interested and you are sorted.”

“How’s Rifthold?”

“Far too warm for November. I miss the snow.”

Another deep laugh “it’s snowing heavily again, so my morning will be spent shovelling the driveway.”

“That’s what you get to live in the woods.”

He chuckled “I would not change it for anything in the world.”

“Rowan, I finished.” Screamed Maya lifting the plate on her head to show him she had eaten all of her food.

“Can I just wish her goodnight before I go?”

Rowan passed the phone to Maya and mother and daughter said their goodbyes, then he took it back “Call me tomorrow evening again, and I will make sure I will send you a lot of photos.”

“Thank you. Good night Rowan.”

He closed the call and went back to his daughter “would you like strawberries?”

“Yes, I like them.”

Dinner went smoothly and Rowan was pleased to see that Maya ate all he offered. He loved cooking and enjoyed the chance to cook once for another person.

“Maya, I need to wash the dishes and clean, you can sit on the table and draw or colour or you can go and play in the living room, just stay nearby.”

She remained on the chair “Can I stay with you?”

“Of course, tell me what you would like to do while you are here.”

She placed her index finger and looked up in a pensive position and he saw so much of Aelin mannerism in his daughter “The aquarium.”

Rowan turned lightly “Do you want to go?”

Maya nodded enthusiastically.

“Ok, Maya we have a plan, we are going to the hockey tomorrow and on Sunday to the aquarium.”

“Rowan?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have milk chocolate?”

Rowan cursed deeply. “No Maya, we can go and buy it tomorrow?” He paused “What if I make you my special hot chocolate?”

Maya got off the chair interested.

Rowan moved her chair near the stove “Kneel here and watch?”

He grabbed the milk and the bar of dark chocolate that he had bought in case Maya wanted it. He grabbed a pan and started breaking the bar in it. Once the heat was on he poured milk and began stirring.

“It’s melting,” exclaimed Maya.

“Yes, and it’s really good.”

It was ten minutes later when he filled two cups “Let’s go in the living room.”

Together they walked to the living room and Maya climbed on the sofa with her toy.

“We ned to wait a bit because the chocolate it’s hot.”

Rowan gave her the blanket and covered her legs “Do you want to watch something?”

“Mama and I don’t watch a lot of tv.”

He smiled “I know but I have a super movie,” he took out the dvd case of My Neighbour Totoro “This is really good, is one of me favourite movies.”

Maya looked at the case “I love him, can I have him?”

Rowan placed the DVD in the player and sat back down. Maya shifted closer to him and he hugged her  closer.

Maya remained silent and attentive until Totoro appeared “he is cute.”

“He is a forest spirit,” explained Rowan happily.

“Can we go in the forest and find him?”

He nodded solemnly “once the snow is gone we can try and spot him.”

Maya grinned and climbed on Rowan’s lap allowing him to fully enclose her in his arms. Rowan gently caressed her hair, feeling his chest bursting with the deep desire to hear the word dad coming out of her lips. He wanted to shout to everyone that he was a dad, but for now he just enjoyed every moment he could with her.

Chocolate over, Maya started to doze off so Rowan scooped her up and climbed to the upper floor.

Gently he tucked her in and took a quick photo to send Aelin. He then sat at her side, brushing her back and making sure that she was fully asleep. 

“Good night, baby.” He whispered with love “You just entered my life but I already love you so much,” another gentle brush of her hair “I am your dad and I am looking forward to the moment I can tell you.” His lips pressed a gentle kiss on her silver hair, then watched her sleep until he was positive she was not waking up. Eventually he made his way to his bedroom and climbed in bed with a book. Aelin texted him back and they chatted until she left for bed.

Rowan grabbed his book again and a smile was etched on his face.

He fell asleep with the thought of the little girl, his little girl, sleeping on the other side of the corridor.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[eryingsfate]

ICHIBY HELL PT 2

This is a part 2 to my amnesia au! I thought i'd focus around how I think Ichiby would officially get together and handle raising a child! Thought i'd throw out some fluff before i fixate on the drama ;)

After the incident of the previous day with Ichiji regaining his memories, the next morning is very awkward to say the least. Koby is up making pancakes for Miriam and Ichiji and preparing to go for a run on the beach, Miriam wakes up and is being very sweet, having sensed the tense atmosphere. When Ichiji enters the kitchen he sits down at the island and thanks Koby before digging in. While they eat Koby leaves for his jog. Ichiji remains in the house with Miriam, who just looks at him.

"You love him."

Ichiji chokes on his food and looks at Miriam in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"I said what I said."

Ichiji shakes his head at her and affectionately ruffles her hair. They continue their meal in silence. Afterwards Ichiji gets a school book and some supplies before handing them off to Miriam so she can stay up to date with school work while her custody issues are worked out.

"'Chiji, what was your mommy like?"

The red haired man is immediately caught off guard. He feels a pang of longing go though his at that moment.

"I don't remember..."

"Oh, well I don't like my mommy very much. She isn't very nice... She always said that she didn't want me 'cause i ruin relationships."

Ichiji frowned at this. He read and saw incidents revolving around relationships being strained by the addition of a child. Looking at Miriam, it was obvious she wasn't upset by the words, but just said it as if it was a simple fact of life.

"I think she was wrong, if you look at it, you certainly brought me and Koby closer together."

"I wish you and Koby could be my parents."

Ichiji nodded at that and thought about bringing it up to Koby. Ichiji could always travel with Miriam and they could meet Koby in various towns as he travels with the marines. He shook his head and made sure Miriam was doing her school work before heading into the living room to finish his book from the previous day.

Koby was walking through the market after his run and decided to pick up a few ingredients for cookies. He talked to the people working in the stalls as went on. Dodging kids, petting various stray animals, and checking in with some of the elderly people. As he's carrying the bags home, he sees a small black kitten cowering in the bushes and after drawing it out, decides to take it home with him. As he walks in the house, Ichiji raises a curled eyebrow at Koby and he shrinks a little. Ichiji takes the kitten to go clean it while Koby goes to set out the ingredients. Miriam helps Koby and squeals as Ichiji comes out with a clean kitten. Miriam plays with the newly dubbed 'Smokey' as Koby and Ichiji get the needed materials. As they start making cookies from scratch, Ichiji can't help but wonder why he ever felt angry at Sanji for cooking. The act in itself was soothing and wasn't all that different from Germa's labs. Ichiji felt angry at himself for hurting his little brother the ways he did all those years ago. Koby took notice of Ichiji's souring mood and grabbed a small handful of flour and threw it at him. Ichiji was stunned for a second, but quickly retaliated by throwing some back. The kitchen turned into a fully blown flour fight. As they chased each other around the kitchen, Miriam was laughing, clutching her ribs as she did so, Smokey was more white than black, and Ichiji was trying to catch Koby. The room was filled with giggles, and Ichiji finally caught Koby. He held Koby against him by the waist and grabbed the bowl of flour and dumped it on the marines head. Koby squeaked as he closed his eyes and tried to back further into Ichiji so he wouldn't get flour in his eyes. Koby threw his head back onto Ichiji's shoulder to glare and him and only got a smile in response. Both men flushed and couldn't move for a moment.

"You two should kiss already."

They jumped apart with a couple mumbles. Ichiji put the cookies in the oven while Koby took Smokey to go wash up and shower. Ichiji side eyed Miriam who just smiled back.

By the time Koby was back, the cookies were done and they ate dinner. When it came time for cookies and the small family sat down together on the couch. Ichiji read a book, Miriam cuddled Smokey while drawing on a notepad, and Koby was going over few files. In the other room the sound of a transponder snail sounded and Koby quickly got up to go answer it. While he did that, Ichiji went ahead and tucked Miriam and Smokey into bed. He went back out into the living room to wait on Koby, who entered after another couple minutes.

"Looks like i'll be here for another month."

"Why? You're a powerful marine, as much as i... enjoy having you around, I'm sure they need you."

Koby groaned, "I think it's another one of Helmeppo's forced vacation ploys. This island has been a repeat victim of pirate attacks, but that was months ago and already dealt with. I like it here, but there are people who need help and 'Meppo thinks I overwork myself most of the time."

Koby sat down and Ichiji hummed. Ichiji decided to bring up the issue of Miriam's custody and what she said earlier that day. Koby was immediately upset and quickly started to try and think up alternatives for Miriam. Ichiji told Koby about how he could get custody and take care of her and Koby promised to think it over. They sat in silence for a while longer.

"I'm actually really happy he sent me here, you know?"

"Why?"

"Because I got to meet you and Miriam."

Ichiji looked over at Koby, who was looking down with a gentle smile and flush on his face. Ichiji felt himself melt at the sight.

"Koby..."

"Yes?"

"Can we talk about last night? Before Miriam came out that is."

"O-of course!"

"I think I'm in love with you. You showed me what life with emotions was like and gave me a second chance. My mom, I vaguely remember her telling me that one day I'd find someone who'd show me unconditional kindness and would make my whole being feel light. I never understood what that meant until now. Hell I never thought I'd feel it and just brushed it off."

"I think I feel the same way. When I first saw you on that beach I first felt anxious and once I found out you didn't remember anything, I wanted nothing more than to help you. My intention wasn't to fall in love, but that's what happened. I don't think you understand what is was like to watch you learn how to care and I saw you become someone worthy of that second chance."

Ichiji gently cradled Koby's face with cold, hard hands, and looked into his eyes. Koby gently nodded and they moved in, pressing their lips together in a sweet, inexperienced kiss. It was the first of many

-The Next Morning-

Koby was putting bacon on the stove and Ichiji was draped over his back, having clearly just woken up. Miriam walked into the kitchen with Smokey and stopped dead in her tracks.

"FINALLY! YOU FINALLY KISSED"

The two men jumped and turned to look at Miriam who was beaming. The just looked at Miriam, who seemed to be doing the equivalent of a victory dance.

-Later that Day-

"I FORGOT ABOUT THE OTHER MARINES! HOLY SHIT WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO SAY!?"

Ichiji instantly stiffened and thought back to the papers involving Garp. He felt dread and anxiety fill him.

-----

All Done! What do we think about receiving some Ichiby+Miriam art y'all?

THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE AS WELL????

[saroko-still-draws]

Oh, one PL fan who gave me the excuse to info dump, let me share my vision for a Descole-Janet spinoff game/story.

(Spoilers for Azran Legacy below)

The story would take place roughly after Unwound Future. Maybe even during NWOS. Descole has sort of remade himself into a Robin Hood-esque anti-hero targeting people illegally selling or collecting ancient artifacts, some of whom are even dangerous. One day, he hears about the stories' McGuffin is going to go on display as part of a massive event being hosted by some rich bastard. This guy isn't too important to the story past this, but for now let's just call him 'Strater V. Illian.'

Cue Janet. After the events of Diva she's continued her career as a famous singer and was invited by Mr. Illian at the event in question. But in the middle of the performance, the McGuffin is stolen.

But not by Descole.

It turns out, a third party had their eye on the McGuffin and swooped in before Desole had the chance. I sadly don't have a brilliant name or design for them, but they're basically the most over exagerated phantom thief you could imagine. He doesn't even know what the McGuffin's significance is; just that stealing it will give them fame and fortune.

Both Descole and Janice chase after them, but only manage to each get a part of the artifact while the thief makes off with the third. And here in lies how Des and Janice are forced to work together. See, the McGuffin is actually part of a three piece set: two act as a pair of magical (or sufficiently advanced scientific) handcuffs and the last is the key. And guess which part the thief got away with~~~

Yeah, I went the whole 'handcuffed together' plot, but there was no other way I could think of that would get Janice to work with Descole. She would have the cops on his ass if she so much as caught him working in the local Tesco. So, handcuff plot.

It is, thankfully, more forgiving than most. They work out that the 'cuffs' have a pretty long 'chain' of about two miles, so they don't need to be glued to the hip all the time. Because I'm a very nice, forgiving person.

Hah. No, I'm a bastard. The two miles gives them both some false hope, but it quickly turns out to be much tougher to navigate through than if they were actually handcuffed. Yes, they can work apart, but they still need to coordinate where they're going and what they're looking for to avoid accidents which requires much more foresight in my opinion. If they get too far, they start yanking each other around, and for a pair of globe trotters who treat the planet itself like their own backyard that leads to a lot of problems.

They also work out that they can't go the cops even if Des didn't have a criminal record. If they did, their pieces would likely be locked away never to see the light again, and there was no chance of the key being used to free them. Plus, I'm tempted to add a fourth group who are also after the McGuffin. (I'm a little tempted to make it a Targent holdover group led by Bloom, but I don't know what his final fate was beyond getting arrested.)

So, they work together, desperately trying to catch up to the Phantom Thief, mostly trying to work out his targets and elaborate plans in order to head him off and get the key back. Sometimes even keeping him alive when the Targent wannabes get a little trigger happy.

But the real adventure is watching the two not kill themselves. Janice has every right in the world to be mad at Des, and Descole is very Regretscole but makes no effort to ask for forgiveness. So for the first few chapters Janice would investigate by herself while Descole did the same in disguies. Leading to some rather hilarious bits.

But, Janice does eventually learn about Descole, his motivations, his past, his relation to her old professor. And both of his sacrifices back at the Azran Temple. She still doesn't forgive him for ED but it's a very sobering moment to realize that the person you once considered 'soulless' has more soul than most decent people you know.

(And when she learns more about Targent and what happened to Des' family. Suddenly realizing that the man who put you and others through a Squid Game and went on a temper tantrum with a giant mecha was actually the lesser evil you could've dealt with must be terrifying.)

Descole, for his part, gets a pretty fair share of grief from Janice, but having her along actually helps him put his actions into perspective. He's just running from himself and his past at this point. He was already under a mental strain prior to story, but Janice is a physical representation of his actions come back to haunt him. It's slow and under slight duress at first (her confronting him over small things that triggered him and make him act off), but he does trusting her as his assistant. When they start working together for real, he even decides to go out under his true identity.

It doesn't start so well, but it's something.

I will cap off by admitting that I don't think this story would end with the two becoming friends, and Layton would not be making an appearance aside from passing comments. I just think there's too much bad blood between Janice and Descole for the two to develop a good friendship at this point, but mutual respect is attainable. As for Layton, he'd steal the spotlight too easily, and as much as I want to see the Bronev bros reconcile, Des needs to get his shit together first.

That's pretty much all I've got for this idea. Anyone is free to make suggestions.

[joanofsnarrrk]

Fic: it's weird, but it's ours (Being Human US) - Chapter 1

SUMMARY: A ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire walk into a house, and—have you heard this one before? They walk into a house—well, no, technically, they walk into a very close, very enabling, borderline co-dependent, group dynamic. Otherwise known as a family. But you know what they say about family: can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em because there aren't any readily accessible iron pokers, silver bullets, or wooden stakes on hand. Which is a good thing because the last thing they need on their hands is suspicion of murder when the neighbors already think the werewolf and the vampire are a couple. But the werewolf and the ghost? They're not sure what their dynamic is. They just know that it absolutely, 100% does not involve Feelings of any kind. ... Probably.

In typical fashion, I finally got around to watching Being Human (US) only a decade-ish after it aired and loved it. My toxic trait, though, is that if a dynamic is contentious, with even a hint of perceivable flirt-to-roast ratio, I will ship it. Which is how this Josh/Sally monstrosity came to be. I am nothing if not Fake Dating/Enemies to Lovers/Found Family trope trash.

Can also be found on AO3.

—————

It only takes about a week after they've moved into their house (Sally's house? They really haven't landed on that one yet) before the full neighborhood welcoming committee arrives on their stoop.

Josh isn't actually home to witness this. No, he finds out when he walks in the door after pulling two doubles and sees their living room filled with people. He barely has a moment to stash his backpack, let alone change out of his scrubs, before an older woman with a perm and a bad dye job corners him and starts talking his ear off.

The extra guests come bearing food, which is the only reason Josh doesn't kill (stake?) Aidan for not texting him a heads up. He uses his height to his advantage to scan the room until he finds Aidan... talking with two attractive girls (because of course he is). Josh tries to subtly signal to him, but Aidan either doesn't see him or is straight up ignoring him—honestly, either option seems in character at this point.

"You know," Perm/Bad Dye Job says to him, her voice filled with pride, "my grandson is gay."

"Uh-huh." Josh, admittedly, isn't listening. He's too busy trying to figure out how to get past the throng of people blocking him from where all the food is. Subsisting on NutriGrain bars and Red Bulls for the last few days has him ravenously hungry.

He politely excuses himself and fights his way over to the table. Just as he finishes piling a plate high with buffalo chicken dip and some kind of vegan chocolate chip cookies (among other things), the older woman is back at his side.

"He's Jewish, too," she tells him. Off his confused look, she adds, "My grandson."

"Ah." Josh isn't really sure what to do with this information, so he shovels some food into his mouth.

"He brought home a nice boy for Seder last year," she continues, oblivious. "He's a third-year law student at BU. And so handsome!"

She winks at him after this proclamation, and now Josh really has no clue what to do with this incredibly weird info dump. Like, good for him—Josh is obviously supportive—but he (Josh, not the grandson) doesn't know why he's being looped in on any of it.

He settles for giving Perm/Bad Dye Job what he hopes is a normal smile (but is likely the one Emily has said makes him look completely unhinged) and a nervous laugh.

Thankfully, he's saved from further embarrassment when Aidan (finally) approaches them, a young but otherwise unremarkable man and woman in tow. He glances at Josh briefly before directing his attention (and full charm offensive) to Perm/Bad Dye Job. "Excuse me, Mrs. Rosenberg—"

She tsks at him playfully. "Now, Aidan, what did I tell you?"

Aidan looks at the ground bashfully, then flashes her a bright (not completely unhinged) smile. "Aw, gee. You're right," he says. Like, he actually says 'gee,' as if he's straight out of an episode of Lassie. "Martha. Sorry. I'll get it next time. Promise."

Perm/Bad Dye Job—sorry, Martha—giggles. Giggles. Josh thinks it demonstrates phenomenal self-restraint that he doesn't roll his eyes (so hard they fall out of his head) at both of them.

"Now, if you'll excuse me a moment, Martha—" He makes a point of emphasizing her name, which she predictably eats right up before he turns back to Josh. Aidan slings an arm around his shoulders, which is... well, it's a little out of left field because Aidan's not a super touchy guy to begin with.

Josh idly wonders if he's drunk—he once had a roommate in college who got kind of handsy with everyone when he drank too much—before it occurs to him that he doesn't actually know if Aidan can get drunk. He's seen him drink, but... has he ever been drunk? Can vampires get drunk?

"Josh," Aidan's decidedly not drunk voice pulls him back to the present, "I want you to meet the Hendersons. This is Nate and his wife, Amanda. They're in the brownstone at the end of the block."

They exchange greetings and make small talk. Josh learns that they're both originally from Pennsylvania, but met at BC (her sophomore, his junior year) before moving to Boston permanently just after their wedding.

After some time, Nate shakes Josh's hand. "It's nice meeting you, Josh. And good seeing you, Martha. So sorry to interrupt."

"Oh, you didn't," Josh insists at the same time Martha informs them, "I was just telling him about Elijah."

Elijah? It takes Josh a minute to realize Elijah must be her gay, Jewish grandson.

"Uh, yeah," he stutters, desperate to somehow convey he wants no part in getting roped into talking with her, "but we—"

"Oh, right!" Amanda reaches out and touches his arm in a familiar, almost intimate way. Panicked, Josh eyes Nate, but Nate doesn't seem to think anything is out of line. "I think you both will like it here. The neighborhood is very accepting. Of everyone."

Josh is about to—who knows? Puff his chest out, establish his dominance? Something to prove to Nate that he's definitely—well, n-not an actual, but at least a potential—romantic threat. Except that Aidan pulls him closer to his side and resolutely refuses to meet his gaze.

"Aidan, what—?"

"Plus, it's great having another young couple on the block," Nate adds, to enthusiastic nods from Amanda.

Josh freezes. Suddenly, everything clicks: Martha's grandson info dump, the neighborhood being "accepting," Aidan's arm around his shoulder.

"Will you—will you excuse us?" Josh blurts, contorting out from under Aidan's grasp. "I have to talk to my roo... my, uh—Aidan. I have to talk to Aidan. Alone. In the kitchen."

Aidan's smile falters only slightly. "Greg, Amanda. Martha. Nice talking with y—"

"Aidan."

The moment the three of them disperse to mingle elsewhere, Josh wastes no time making his escape, Aidan close on his (metaphorical) tail.

"Listen, Josh—"

Josh turns on him as soon as they both step into the kitchen. "Why do—" He stops short, aware of a few guests standing too close for comfort. He grabs Aidan's arm and yanks him over to the corner, near the microwave. "Why do they think we're a couple?"

For some reason, Aidan looks visibly relieved by Josh's reaction rather than literally any other emotion that should be there. "I didn't say anything. Everyone just... assumed? Danny must have talked to a few of 'em."

"And you didn't think to correct them?"

"I was going to," Aidan concedes, "but listen—Listen! This could be a good thing."

Josh wants to scream. "Good for who?" He pauses, angrily considering. "Whom—? Never mind, I don't give a shit—good for who exactly, Aidan?"

"Good for us," he insists. Off Josh's incredulous look, he presses, "Think about—Josh, just think about it for a second. Two straight, single guys who live together, spend a lot of time together? That begs a lotta questions. But if we're a couple? No one bats an eye."

Josh opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it. Aidan's... not wrong. God, he hates that Aidan's not wrong. Still— "You... have a point. But why not just tell them we're brothers?"

Sally materializes right next to them, making herself comfortable on what little counter space they have. Josh jumps, still not used to her living (dying-then-residing-in-another-plane-of-existence... ing?) in the house yet.

She snorts. "Please." She gestures at Aidan, Vanna White-ing him. "Look at him! His face is all chiseled, like Mount Rushmore, or... or Handsome Squidward—"

Aidan frowns. "Handsome... what?"

"—No one's gonna believe he's related to you."

You meaning Josh, who apparently is so hideously deformed, he couldn't possibly live up to the god-like, Edward Cullen plane of physical beauty on which Aidan exists. (Though he will—grudgingly— give her points for Handsome Squidward because... now he can't unsee it).

He fixes what he hopes is his most pissed off look at Sally. "Oh, but they'll believe we're dating?"

She shrugs. "Sure. People date down all the time."

Josh can feel his face flush, equal parts humiliated and angry. Aidan cuts him off before he can say anything and comes to stand between both of them. "Hey, c'mon now."

The same two attractive girls from earlier are glancing curiously in their direction. Aidan takes hold of his (Josh's) hand and waves with his other one. For good measure, he flashes the girls the kind of smile Josh is sure belongs to someone who never had a two-year sex drought in over two centuries.

"If-If anything, I would be dating up," Aidan assures Sally, absent any sarcasm but still tonally a mix between hostage negotiator and children's TV show host. "I mean, Josh is a doctor—"

"Didn't go to med school." Why is Josh correcting him?

"—Right, uh, Josh could have been a doctor—"

From over Aidan's shoulder, Josh sees the attractive girls exchange an 'awww!' before they waggle their fingers and head back into the living room.

"—He's great with his sister, he... owns more than one sweater vest, and—And!" Aidan continues, clearly scrambling toward the end. "He's seen every episode of Nova."

"Yeah, okay—" When the coast is clear, Josh wrenches his hand out of Aidan's. "Stop patronizing me. Let's say we do this. What happens when I want to bring a girl back to the house—" Even in his periphery, he can see Sally grin, a retort clearly at the ready. He jabs a finger in her direction. "Don't. Aidan, what happens when one of us wants to bring a girl back, huh? What then?"

Aidan thinks about that for a moment... then shrugs. Josh groans. "I—Look, I don't know. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Aidan assures him. He looks over at Sally, who nods in agreement even though she's definitely not a part of this whole thing.

Josh takes a moment to think about it, to imagine any outlying repercussions they're not considering. Or, at least, to decide if the symptoms are worth taking the prescribed medication (so to speak). When he comes up blank, he blurts, "Fine. But I'm—we're not kissing."

"I—" Aidan breaks off, starts laughing. "I wasn't planning on it. Figured we'd stick to holding hands, or—Wait, were you?"

"No!" This is truly the weirdest conversation Josh has ever had. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, if anyone asks—"

"Eww," Sally contributes, completely ignoring him. "Why would they? Do you normally ask couples why they're not all over each other in public?"

"—If anyone gets suspicious," Josh amends, "we'll just..."

"Tell 'em we're not big into PDA," Aidan finishes.

Josh snaps his fingers. "Yes, exactly—that we, uh... we like to keep our private life private. At home."

"Hot." Sally fans herself. "Aidan and Josh sitting in a tree, keeping their private life private. K-I—"

"—L-L-I-N-G Sally again if she doesn't stop talking," Josh says through gritted teeth.

"Dude," Aidan bites out reproachfully at the same time Sally lets out a surprised gasp. 

Josh feels his neck grow warm, like he's ten-years-old, back in Ithaca at JDS, and the instructor just caught him copying somebody else's work. Only, a lot worse.

"Yup, heard it as soon as I said it. Sally, I'm sorry." To his surprise, he actually means it. Even more surprising, when she gives him a small nod in acknowledgment, he feels... relieved. 

Aidan considers both of them before looking out at the rest of the party. They've attracted a greater number of curious bystanders, none of whom are being very subtle."So," Aidan directs to Josh somewhat urgently, "what d'ya think? Are you in?"

"Yeah, seriously. You guys have been over here so long, everyone's going to think you're being super rude," Sally admonishes. She considers. "Or that you left to go hook up."

Josh can't take it anymore. He may regret this, but— "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes. I'm in."

Aidan claps him on the back and grins. He's a really good friend, Josh thinks. He's hard pressed to think of any other friend who would agree to move in with him and then fake date him in order to keep his werewolf transformations a secret. Before he can continue that train of thought, something occurs to him.

"Wait a minute," he protests as Aidan guides him back into the fray of the party. "Can we go back to the part where, apparently, one of my only three endearing qualities is that I own two sweater vests?"

Sally cackles behind them.

—

Three days exactly after Tony the sleazy 80s glam rock ghost—the one who taught Sally how to move from room to room just by thinking about it? Yeah, three days exactly after that guy (ghost?) walks through his door and disappears forever, there's an... incident.

Or, at least, that's what Aidan is calling it. But whatever. He wasn't there at the time of the... incident (ughhh), so he really shouldn't get to have a say. In Josh's completely unbiased opinion.

Anyway, it happens like this:

After three back-to-back Ripley's Believe It or Not reruns, Sally calls it. She's officially bored. Bored! With a capital "B."

Unwittingly, her thoughts drift to Danny (as they always do), and she feels—well, not really feels, since she can't feel anything anymore—the familiar ache in her chest. The one that spurs on desolate thoughts of what they had, what they could have been, and how her death was an unfairly finite end to all of it.

So, she tries (really, she does) to focus on something—literally anything—else. It works for a little while. She recalls almost turning the page in one of Aidan's massive, dusty books yesterday. (It was literally filled with old Red Sox rosters and various batting lineup statistics from the 1920s, as well as an excruciatingly dull analysis of how those were affected in 1912 when the team moved from the Huntington Avenue Grounds to Fenway).

Anyway, she knows for a fact that the book page fluttered. But maybe... she realizes it was probably the breeze coming in from the kitchen window. The one Josh forgot to close earlier.

Thinking about all of this reminds her that not only is she dead, but also that she's kind of sucking at this whole ghost thing. Two incredibly depressing thoughts to have, honestly. So, she switches gears and tries to recall how Tony taught her to move from room to room. It was supposed to work just like apparating in Harry Potter, right? Just visualize where you want to go, and poof, you're there?

She closes her eyes and pictures the kitchen, with the table and the sink full of dishes (seriously, only one of them eats—how are there so many?) and one of Aidan's used blood bags—wait, now she's just making a cleaning-to-do list. She starts at the beginning, clearing her mind, only thinking about Tony's instructions.

Let's see, he first appeared in their shower, and—ugh, she remembers thinking about how majestically gross his mullet was. Plus, with the way the light reflected off the porcelain tub, it looked like he had a halo, and—

"Oh, my God—Sally?!"

She startles, eyes flashing open, only to find herself practically face to face with Josh, who's standing under a torrent of shower spray, and, oh yeah—is completely naked.

"What are you doing in here?" he demands, horrified.

Sally is frozen to the spot. She tries to jam her eyes shut, just as he abruptly covers himself, but it's too late. She's literally seen too much. "I wasn't—I didn't come in here on purpose!"

"Well, could you get out of here on purpose?"

"Yeah. I-I mean, yes, I'm trying, but it's not—" She keeps trying to picture the wide, open space of the living room, but all she can think on repeat is Josh is naked, Josh is in the shower, and he is naked. So, naturally, she starts rambling. "—it's not an exact science! But, hey! On the plus side, I barely saw anything. I-I can't even fully verify that you're circumcised—"

"Oh, my God," Josh says again, accompanied by some kind of strangled noise. "Get. Out."

He reaches through her and shuts off the water. Or, so she assumes. Her eyes are still jammed shut. But when she hears the shower rings grate against the rod and the curtain whoosh, her suspicions are confirmed.

"Okay, but this—" She peeps to see if the coast is clear but is met by Josh's backside instead. He hastily wraps a towel around his waist just as she jams her eyes shut again. "It could be so much worse, Josh—"

"How?" he demands, voice cracking. He clears his throat. "How could this possibly be worse?"

She's not prepared for his response, especially because her efforts to physically remove herself from the room keep getting derailed by the thought that he's kind of shredded for a super nerd. So, naturally, she's absolutely not thinking when she blurts, "Well, that shower is not big, so good thing I'm transparent. 'Cuz otherwise... awkward—"

"ROOMMATE MEETING. NOW!" he bellows before she hears him storm down the hall.

—————

The living room is still blissfully empty when Sally arrives (the normal way, not telepathically because of course it wouldn't work on command when she really, really needed it to). She takes a moment to prepare herself, or to brace for whatever Josh will say to—well, let's be real here, yell at—them at this meeting.

Aidan comes down the stairs, yawning. He's mid-stomach scratch when she looks over at him, but her eyes are drawn to the sliver of skin above the waistband of his scrubs, now visible thanks to the whole scratching thing.

"Hey," he says when he sees her. He takes a seat on the couch next to her. "Any idea what this is about?"

Up close, she can see his scrubs are rumpled and his hair is sticking up at a lot of weird angles, like he just woke up from a nap. Which he probably did (she overheard him and Josh last week talking about there being a staff shortage at the hospital, probably because of all the vampire turnings, but whatever—they didn't ask her). Rather than looking disheveled, though, Aidan just looks hot... ter.

Before Danny came into the picture (she'll remember to feel guilty later for even considering such a scenario later), this would have been the ideal scenario: living with two hot guys—well, one hot guy and one passably good-looking guy—going out to bars, having parties, etc. But rather than being able to enjoy any of the possible benefits that could come from such an arrangement, here she was, stuck being dead.

Aidan is looking at her strangely until she realizes he's waiting for her to respond.

"Oh," she says, trying to shake off that line of thought (because she should absolutely clarify that in this scenario, she's not talking about benefits benefits, especially—God, no, especially not with Josh). "Uh—"

"I'll tell you what this is about," Josh says suddenly, almost as if she summoned him (she didn't... oh, God, did she?). He thunders down the stairs, two at a time, before coming to stand in front of both of them.

He's still not wearing anything—actually, super important correction: he still has his towel wrapped around his waist, he's just not wearing any clothing. But he's definitely avoiding looking at her directly. Which is fine with her because, honestly? Same.

"I believe it was John Locke who first coined the term 'social contract,'" Josh begins.

"Actually," Aidan chimes in, "it was Rousseau. I met the guy once. Such a pompous windbag, but—"

"Whatever. My point is that whenever people—individuals—agree to come together and form a society, they sacrifice certain... entitlements in order to coexist peacefully," Josh further explains. "This—our house—is a type of society. And we live under a social contract that entails respecting each other. Primarily, respecting each other's personal boundaries."

Aidan looks lost. "Um... Okay. Sure." He tries to hide a smirk. "You, uh, you think respecting boundaries might involve wearing pants in the common areas, bud?"

The light coming in from the bay window highlights some interesting contours on Josh's person, including the admittedly decent musculature on his otherwise lean frame. Once again, Sally finds herself involuntarily impressed.

(Seriously, though, she's witnessed him watch a TNG marathon on SyFy for fourteen episodes straight without getting up off the couch once. On multiple occasions. Sooo... how? Was it a werewolf thing? Like, was his metabolism just supernaturally fast? Or did he have a membership to a CrossFit gym that she and Aidan were just totally oblivious to?).

"Josh." Aidan's voice pulls her back to the present. "What the hell is—?"

"I accidentally transported into the shower while Josh was using it," Sally confesses at the same time Josh blurts, "Sally walked in on me while I was in the shower."

She rolls her eyes at him. "I did not walk in on you."

"No, you just materialized in on me," he insists. "Oh, thank—thank you, Sally! That distinction really helps with all—" He frantically gestures in a circle. "—this."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she demands because honestly? He's being such a drama queen. "I didn't do it on purpose!"

If he wasn't awake before, Aidan is now. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut before he leans forward and looks at Sally. "Wait, you did it?" he asks her, grinning in a way that makes him look much younger. "You traveled to another room?"

"Not the takeaway!" Josh fumes.

She ignores him and says to Aidan, "I'm still trying to figure it out fully—I couldn't materialize away from the bathroom—but yeah." His enthusiasm is infectious because she can feel a huge smile break out on her face. "I really did it."

"Sally, that's amazing!"

"No. Nuh-uh. Not amazing!"

She turns on Josh. "You're unbelievable! Wasn't the whole point of this—the whole reason you guys brought that sleemo over here—was so I could learn how to leave the house—?"

"—Aidan, this is not amazing!"

"God," Sally says, drawing out the syllable to three, "you are such a killjoy, Josh!"

"W-Wait—Hold on a second." Aidan hops off the couch and comes to stand between both of them. He faces her. "Didn't you tell me Tony said you had to focus on your destination—like really think about it—in order to make it work?"

All three of them fall silent, and it's only then that Sally realizes how close she's standing to Josh. She must have gravitated toward him while they were arguing. But they sure aren't arguing now. No, siree. They're just sort of... standing there, close enough that she swears she can feel his body heat (even though, she can't emphasize this enough: she can't actually feel anything), and looking at each other. But, like, in an intense, sort of charged kind of way? The really cheesy, mostly poorly written romance books Bridgette always swore she never read (but totally did) would have described it as heated. But that right there is exactly the problem.

They both seem to realize what's happening at the same time (more so the implication of Aidan's comment than the whole heated look thing, thank God) because Sally jumps back just as Josh shoves an accusatory finger in her direction.

"You were thinking about me in the shower?"

"What? No! I was thinking about the bathroom—"

"—which I was occupying—!"

"Yeah, but I wasn't—I didn't know you were in there." Then, because it suddenly feels important to defend herself beyond any reasonable doubt, she adds, "Obviously!"

From the corner of her eye, she can see Aidan's mouth gape uselessly as he pieces everything together. She does a double take—yes, an actual double take—when he tries to (poorly) cover the How the Grinch Stole Christmas-level, shit-eating grin that's regrettably taking up residence on his dumb, attractive face.

"Aidan, no."

He throws his hands up. "I didn't say anything," he insists innocently. "But... 'personal boundaries?' Y'know it—well, this all makes sense now."

"No, it doesn't!" Josh tears his gaze from Sally to look at Aidan pleadingly. "Aidan, this should make no sense. I think we should just throw a line of salt—as a precaution—at the entrance to the bathroom—"

Sally throws her hands on her hips. "Oh, real nice, Josh. Let's just imprison the ghost in her own home! Which it is, by the way. This is my home—"

"Was," he says, not exactly in a kind tone. "This was your home, Sally. But now it's ours." He gestures between Aidan and himself. "And we really need you to not be some, some... Peeping Tom, or—"

"Wow, okay, so—'Peeping Tom.' Really? I'm not some deviant! But even if I was—"

"If?"

"Yeah, if, Josh. Even if I was, why would I waste my time trying to catch a glimpse of you hanging dong, or whatever—"

"I—that's not—"

"Okay, okay!" Aidan once again steps in between them. "Look, we're all mature, rational adults—"

He's doing a terrible job of trying not to laugh, though, which is why Josh gives an exasperated, "Dude!" and proceeds to ball tap him. Aidan wheezes, suddenly hunching over against any additional attacks.

Sally rolls her eyes. "Way to be neither of those things, Josh."

"Sally, so help me—"

Aidan holds up his hand against Josh. "New plan," he croaks, voice cracking. Tentatively, he stands to full height, then clears his throat. "If we announce when we're about to take a shower—"

Josh frowns. "So, what? Just yell into the void 'I'm about to get in the shower, so please don't walk in on me—sorry, materialize—in on me?"

"I'd... probably fine tune that one, but yeah, that's the general idea," Aidan says before Sally can snap back at Josh. He addresses her directly when he asks, "If we give you some kind of heads up, can you promise to give the bathroom a wide berth?"

Sally sinks back onto the couch and huffs. "Yes—"

"See?" Aidan nudges Josh. "Look at that, problem solved."

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Josh grumbles. "Or, I guess don't see Sally—"

"—But I would like the record to show that I did not materialize into the shower while Josh was using it on purpose," Sally makes sure to add. "Somehow, I don't think that point is getting across as clearly as I would like."

"Oh, no," Aidan smirks. He yawns and purposefully makes his way around the couch and up the stairs. "It's very clear. I just... well, I just wonder how the neighbors would react to Josh showering with someone who is definitely not his loyal boyfriend of... two and a half months?"

"Aidan!"

Josh hurdles over the couch, losing his towel in the process, but Aidan is already at the top of the steps. Sally rushes to cover her eyes, but once again does so far too late.

"Oh, my God!" she screeches at the same time Aidan hollers, "Now, I've got a shift in a few hours. Next person who wakes me up, I will not hesitate to bleed dry."

His door resolutely slams shut, leaving Josh and her in its suddenly way too quiet wake. This time, Sally doesn't risk opening her eyes.

[walesfootball]

Dogs and Cats - Alexia Putellas x Reader

Y/N has a fear of dogs, Alexia wants her to meet Nala.

Drawing from personal experience, I'm not a dog person. I wasn't attacked by a dog like in the story, don't worry, but cats are my thing.

You are part of a very small majority of people. People look at you weird when you admit this, or when it comes up in conversation. But you hate dogs. Now, hate is a strong word. But you really do hate them. You were attacked by a big dog a few years ago. Even now you can remember the rough teeth ripping into your skin, the blood dripping down your face and arms and legs, and the ugly noises that came out of the dog. Your breath quickens just thinking about it.

You’d been walking around the park when you saw a big St. Bernard approaching you slowly. You didn’t think anything of it, you’d always thought they were nice dogs. You’d seen the ‘Beethoven’ films, clearly they are all like him. Right? He ran up to you, and the last thing you saw before crouching your head down trying to protect every part of you were these big dripping teeth. You came out with purple and black bruises everywhere, bite marks, and deep cuts which needed stitches. It took a few weeks for you to physically recover, but you still hadn’t recovered mentally.

Every time you saw a dog now, you’d cross the street or would get as far as you could away from them. Your friends who had dogs would assure you that their dog didn’t bite and were the kindest animals ever, but you had believed that once and weren’t going to be tricked into thinking that again.

Alexia had a dog. Nala. Granted, she was a small dog, but she still scared you. You had been dating Alexia a little over five weeks. The two of you started out as very good friends since you’d joined Barcelona and had become inseparable ever since. The only problem was that not only did she have a dog, whom she loved very much, but also, she had no idea that you harboured such a deep fear of dogs. She would 100% dump you if she found out! That you were sure of.

Over the last five weeks, and beforehand, you would make your excuses to avoid her home at all costs, not wanting to see the dog. You would invite her over to yours instead where your cat, Benny, resided. Cats were perfect for you. Benny was perfect for you. He didn’t bite or scratch, he just liked to cuddle, sleep, and eat. A bit like yourself. Alexia had met Benny, and loved him. He was a white cat, with a few black spots scattered around his small body. She loved the pictures you’d take of him, some closer to his face than need be and others would be a selfie of the both of you. She loved having these photos and saved them to her phone.

Alexia would send you pictures of Nala, too. She wouldn’t get the same reaction from you, but didn’t think anything of it. You would send a meaningless emoji back or a short text saying ‘cute’ or ‘she’s lovely’. You didn’t mean any of it. And you hated being so horrible about a dog that was a part of her family, someone who she cared so deeply about. But this fear at the back of your mind, and that St. Bernard dog, was stopping you from loving Nala as much as Alexia.

If the relationship was going to work with Alexia, you’d have to accept Nala.

——

You felt arms snake around your waist as you were waiting for training to begin. A gentle kiss placed behind your right ear brought you out of your thoughts and into the present. You leaned back into the body behind you, letting your head rest on her left shoulder as you placed your arms around hers.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come to mine tonight?”

Your eyes went wide. You knew Alexia felt you tense up in how she pulled you back a little to see the look on your face.

“Um… would you prefer to come to mine instead? It’s closer.”

“Amor, you haven’t been to mine yet. And you can meet Nala. Finally.”

“Yeah…” You forced a smile out, knowing it was weak. You had to tell her, you had to tell her now, “Look, I just don’t really like-“

“Groups of two! Partner up with someone who plays in the same position as you!” Jonatan screamed for everyone to hear him.

“We’ll talk later.” Alexia ran off to partner with Patri.

You stood there, cringing at whatever would happen after training.

——

You had changed out of your training kit and grabbed your bag as quick as you could. If you just walked out of the training facility and just pretend you forgot you’d made plans with Alexia, you’re almost sure she wouldn’t take it personally.

As you walked down the corridor, passing the toilets to your right, and then passing the small gym to your left. You could see the exit. The big double doors lighting up the closer you got to them, almost like the pearly gates of heaven. You began to smile and your feet moving faster.

“Y/N! Wait!”

Shit. Alexia.

You turned around to see her half-dressed, still with her training shorts on and putting her shirt on with her right hand, with her left hand dragging her bag as quickly as she could to catch up with you. You felt awful and could only wait for her to make it to you. You gave her a small smile as she looked into your eyes, winded.

“I thought you were coming to mine. I’ve never seen you get ready so fast.” Alexia laughed, not noticing the devastation on your face as she got dressed in the reception area of the building.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to cringe or smile, “I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I’ve got things to do, ya know. Had to leave quickly.”

“What things?”

“You know… things.”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to be clearer.”

“I’ve just got to go home.”

“Oh,” Alexia’s face dropped but nodded anyway, “that’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

Your heart broke for her. You didn’t want to come off as mean or ungrateful, but you couldn’t see that dog. What if she bit you? What if she attacked you? What if you needed stitches and a cast again? You couldn’t go through that trauma again, so you pushed Alexia away. You walked away from Alexia without saying a word, she watched your every step until you walked around the corner towards the car park. You drove home quietly to find Benny sleeping on the sofa, looking up when he’d heard the door close and made his way towards his food bowls.

You’d given him a pouch of cat food, and sat down on the sofa. Your bag sitting next to you as you looked up at the ceiling. You’d ruined a relationship that had barely started because of this stupid fear of yours. You sat back up and watched Benny eating his food. The only thing on your mind was the heartbroken look on Alexia’s face when you shook her off like she was nothing. You looked at your right hand, the part of your body that had gotten the brunt of the attack as you tried pushing the dog away with your dominant hand. The scar still as clear as ever. You stroked the scar with your index finger with your other hand. You remembered that day too well, now it might be time to let it go, or at least work through it.

In the time you’ve known Alexia, you knew she would never put you in harms way. You could see a future with this girl, and you were throwing it away because of this fear. A completely rational fear, but an obstacle in your life that stopped you from pursuing things further. Other couples go through countless other obstacles like cheating, family troubles, or a fear of being loved. But your fear was of dogs. You have to laugh because when you put it in that perspective it makes no sense.

You should be over with Alexia now. At her house. Having dinner with her, possibly watching a film, and going to sleep side by side. Not stuck in your flat on your own, listening to Benny lap up his food.

Come on, you can do this, you told yourself over and over again.

You got up from the sofa, taking your overnight bag with you that you always leave by your door. You said goodbye to Benny, earning a meow back, and walked over to Alexia’s home.

As soon as you got to her door, you stopped. There’s a dog in there. A small dog at that, but still a dog. Your rational and irrational thoughts were fighting against each other.

She could bite me. She’s a small dog, what harm could she possibly do?

She could rip my arm off or eat me. That’s not possible. And Alexia wouldn’t let that happen!

That dog is the devil itself. Get a grip, just knock the door.

Before you could even turn around or overthink yourself into oblivion, your fist tapped the door. This is it.

Alexia opens the door fairly quickly. She had changed into a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms, and an old white t-shirt that belonged to you. She looked beautiful. She looked surprised to see you, not knowing whether to smile or berate you.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay I came over. I’m sorry for before.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t understand.”

You hear a bark coming from inside the house. Your jaw clenched and your hands started to sweat.

“Do you want to come in?” Alexia opened her door, inviting you in.

You gulped and took a nervous step in, “Nice place.”

“You could’ve seen it earlier if you wanted to.”

“I am sorry. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“How could you disappoint me, amor?” She chuckled, not understanding the nervousness.

You kept looking around her home, expecting Nala to jump out like a clown. To attack you.

“You okay? You look like you’re going to be ill.” Alexia held your arms, taking a better look at you.

“Who? Me? No.”

“You’re acting weird. Sit down.”

She grabbed your hand and lead you to the living room. That’s when you saw her. Nala. You gulped again. You kept reminding yourself how stupid this was.

“I’ll get you some water.” Alexia left you in the room alone with Nala. Both of you looking at each other. Her big black eyes looked evil to you, her small tail wagging erratically, and her tongue panting. You didn’t take your eyes off of her, terrified that if you did she would make her move.

Alexia came back and placed the glass of water in your hands, “Ahh, you’ve finally met Nala.”

At the sound of her name, Nala got up and made her way towards Alexia to sit on her lap who had now sat by your side on the other side of the sofa. You’d sat as far as you could.

You got up quickly. Alexia looking up at you as Nala arrived in her arms.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Alexia looked so confused.

“This.”

“I knew it. You’re breaking up with me.” Alexia’s eyes were getting cloudy as the look of disappointment covered her face.

“What? No!” You panicked.

“I don’t understand. I thought we were good together. You’ve been acting weird all day with me as soon as I mentioned you coming over.” She picked up Nala and put her to the side on the sofa. She stood up to look right in your eyes.

“I don’t want to break up with you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Then what is it?!” She snapped, getting frustrated.

“It’s… it’s really stupid.” You looked down at your feet.

Alexia held your chin gently, forcing you to look up at her, “It’s not stupid. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. Just please tell me.”

You took a deep breath, “I’m really scared of dogs.”

It was silent for a minute. Alexia snorted.

“It’s not funny!”

“No it isn’t! But… is that what this is about? Is this why you’ve never come over to mine before?” She gave you a cute smile, now holding your cheek in her right hand.

“I told you it was stupid.”

“It isn’t stupid. I thought you wanted to break up with me. The last thing on my mind was that you’re scared of dogs. It kinda makes me happy that that’s all it is.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it can be a little embarrassing. And I’m sure Nala is lovely, but I can’t… it’s hard.” It was difficult for you to admit this to Alexia. You’d never admitted this to anyone. Your family and close friends knew, but no one else. Dogs were seen as these cute animals of a friendly nature. You felt the complete opposite about them.

“Why are you so scared of dogs?” Alexia took you over to the dining table, not wanting to scare you being too close to Nala.

“A few years ago I was attacked by a St. Bernard in a local park. This dog was massive. And he ran up to me, grabbed me, and left with with a lot of injuries. I felt like a rag doll in his mouth, Ale. I’ve been scared of them ever since.”

“I’m sorry.” Alexia reached out to touch your hands which were lying on the table. Her thumbs rubbing calming circles.

“No I’m sorry. I’ve probably made it really awkward for you.”

“You haven’t. I want to help. You deserve to experience a kind dog. You’ve probably heard that before, but I think you and Nala will get on.” She smiled hopefully.

You took a shaky breath and nodded, “Okay. I trust you.”

“Good. We’ll start off slowly. You’ll be best friends in no time.”

You laughed with her as you buried your head in your hands, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Alexia kissed your cheek proudly before leaving the room to get your overnight bag.

——

Over the next few months, Alexia tried helping you with your fear of dogs by using Nala as a sort of exposure therapy. You started saving pictures of Nala on your phone and watching videos of dogs online, you would go out with Alexia as she took Nala out on a walk guided by a leash, and you started sitting next to Nala.

Petting and playing with Nala was extremely difficult. You could see her spiked teeth gripping the toy when Alexia would play with her. You were scared she’d turn and attack you if you tried petting her.

None of this would be possible if you didn’t have Alexia by your side throughout it all. Anytime you lost hope, she was there to restore it. Anytime you almost gave up because of how stupid you thought it was, she would be there to counteract every bad thought you had, willing you to carry on.

——

You sat next to Nala on the sofa. This must’ve been the hundredth time you’d done so. She’d never bitten you, scratched you, or killed you. Your worst fears had never been backed up by Alexia’s dog. You felt kind of safe. Not completely. But safe enough. 

Alexia was in the kitchen, watching from afar. The three of you had reached a point now where you could be left alone with Nala, but you still wanted to feel Alexia’s presence. She would start off on the other side of the room, and then would venture off into the kitchen. A small window overlooked the living room from the kitchen so she had a perfect view of you and Nala.

Your hand reached out towards Nala’s face. Her tail wagging excitedly, waiting for you to touch her. You took a deep breath. Your hand moving closer and closer, shaking every step of the way. As soon as your hand settled on Nala, you smiled widely. Your hand stayed there, unmoving, as you looked excitedly towards Alexia who was also smiling widely towards the both of you on the sofa.

“If you’d have told me a year ago that I would be petting a dog… no way would I have believed you.”

“I’m so proud of you, mi amor.” Alexia moved back into the living room, sitting in front of you and Nala on the coffee table. She leaned forward to kiss your lips, only stopping when you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I still prefer cats though.” You laughed when you saw Alexia’s face dropping sarcastically.

You still weren’t keen on dogs, but Nala you could handle. In small doses.

[rosiesramblings]

Realizations

Fandom: Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Per request of anon, sequel to this fic. I hope you enjoy! I'm not super confident writing Eddie yet, so please excuse me if he's a bit OOC. Also sorry if this one is a bit plotless, my brain is fried today.

The realization came in the middle of Eddie’s daring attempt at escape. Because despite the burn in his lungs, the ache in his legs, and the hair in his eyes, he couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

“Get back here, Munson!” Steve called from behind him, far too close for comfort.

“Eat a bag of dicks!” Eddie fired back joyfully, an involuntary smile stretching across his face.

They circled Steve’s pool for a few moments, panting from the sudden exertion, Eddie’s brain working overtime as he tried to figure a way out of the situation. Nancy had gotten Robin a glass of water, and the two girls sat on a lawn chair, far away from the danger zone. They would be no help, Eddie knew.

“You can’t run forever,” Steve teased, wiggling his fingers at Eddie, who shivered. “Promise to go easy on you if you let it happen.”

“Fucking liar,” Eddie grinned, arms hugging his own rib cage of their own accord.

Steve shrugged, “Too late to find out now.” He darted to one side and Eddie made a break for the patio door. If he could make it inside he could find a place to hide -

Unfortunately, the universe and the door had other plans.

Eddie tugged at the handle, but the door didn’t budge. He threw a glance backward, towards Steve, who was grinning evilly as he closed the distance between them. Eddie yelped, pulling harder at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck you, piece of shit - fuck!” Eddie yelled as he was suddenly swept up into a bridal carry. It took his brain a moment to adjust as the world suddenly turned sideways, but Eddie was very aware that Steve had just picked him up like he weighed nothing, holy shit that was so hot and so unfair.

“Mmm, forgot to warn you,” Steve said. “The door tends to stick in the summer.”

“Steve, buddy, sweetheart, light of my life - woah!” Eddie’s babbling was cut off as Steve dumped him unceremoniously onto a lawn chair and straddled him, pinning Eddie’s arms underneath his knees. 

Eddie definitely did not blush, thank you very much, it was just… rather hot outside.

“Now what was it I did to Robin that you said was mean?” Steve asked, pretending to think. 

“Nothing, nothing, Steve wait I just - ohoho gohohohod,” Eddie started giggling immediately as Steve wiggled his fingers just above the ridges of his ribcage, not touching down.

“Seriously? This gets you?” Steve laughed.

“Shuhuhut up,” Eddie whined. “I cahahan’t hehelp it.”

“Aw, poor baby,”  Steve said with mock sympathy.

“Juhuhust - just gehehet it over wihihith,” Eddie said, squirming as much as he could in Steve’s hold.

“Well, if you insist, sweetheart,” Steve said, finally letting his fingers scribble over Eddie’s poor ribs.

Eddie screeched before descending into hysterical giggles. “Fuhuhuhuck you, Kihihing Steve.”

“How many goddamn times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Steve asked, digging into the grooves of his ribs and making Eddie’s laughter get even louder.

Incorrigible, Eddie managed to get out, “At lehehast one mohohore tihihime, Kihihihing Steve.”

“Oh my god, ok, I was going to be nice, but now I’m not stopping until I find your worst spot,” Steve threatened, noticing Eddie’s face get a few shades redder. Steve moved his hands up and spidered into the hollows of Eddie’s underarms.

“Shihihihihihihihit!” Eddie laughed as he tried to squeeze his arms to his sides.

“Hmm. Good, but I think we can do better,” Steve mused. He cocked his head down where tears gathered in Eddie’s eyes. “How are you doing? Need a break?” He stilled his fingers for a moment to give Eddie time to answer.

“You can take your break and shove it up your aHAHAHAHAHASS, SHIT,” Eddie would rather die of laughter than admit that he needed a break - not that he was minding the current situation all that much.

“There’s no need to be rude, asshole,” Steve said, squeezing his way back down Eddie’s ribs to his sides. Eddie’s giggles went all breathy (and cute, Steve’s mind supplied unhelpfully) and Steve snorted. “Alright, now, you remember why you’re currently being turned into ticklish goo, Munson?”

“Nohohohohohot really,” Eddie snickered truthfully.

“The bet you and Robin made,” Steve supplied. “I’m not actually mad about the bet. I am, however, deeply offended,” he emphasized his words by vibrating his hand in the center of Eddie’s tummy, “That you assumed that I only care about my friends if they are under fifteen.”

“FuhuhuhuhuCK, OH gohohohoOD,” Eddie threw his head back at the unbearable sensation. He was vaguely aware of Steve continuing his lecture, but his brain was preoccupied with the ticklish sparks coming from Steve’s cruel hands.

Steve moved his hands lower, towards Eddie’s hips, and for the first time he felt a flicker of panic. “WAIT! Wahahahit, Stevie, you cahahan be done, I��ve - I’ve lehehearned my lesson.”

“What? Eddie the Great can’t stand a little tickling?” Steve teased, resting his hands ever so lightly on Eddie’s hip bones, not moving yet.

“Nohohohot THEHEHERE, he cahahahn’t,” Eddie admitted, squirming as much as he possibly could, giving Steve his best puppy eyes.

“Hmmm. Well, unfortunately for you, I promised I wouldn’t stop until I found your worst spot. Any last words, Munson?” Steve asked.

He took a deep breath, “Robin, I bequeath thee my rehehecord collection. Nancy, tell my uncle I loHOOHOHOVED HIM JEHEHEHEHESUS H CHRIHIST,” Eddie collapsed into loud belly laughter when Steve finally squeezed, bucking his hips so violently that Steve almost lost his balance.

“Oh my god, Munson, are you actually being murdered?” Robin snarked, parroting what Eddie had said to her earlier.

“FUHUHUHUHUCK, STEHEHEHEHEHEVE,” Eddie pleaded.

“I don’t know Eddie, you’re awfully cute when you’re laughing,” Steve smiled and drew circles with his thumbs.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE,” Eddie begged, desperate.

Steve loved Eddie’s laugh, but he wasn’t a sadist. With one final scrape of his fingernails on Eddie’s hips, he stopped tickling.

It took Eddie a minute to realize his hands were free, but as soon as he did his hands went straight to his hips, trying to get rid of the ghost tickles.

“You survived!” Steve cheered, ruffling his hair. Eddie leaned in to the touch.

“Hehehey, Robin gohohot a hug when you were through wihihith her,” Eddie complained.

Steve cocked his head to the side, considering. Slowly, he leaned forward, eyes locked on Eddie’s, until they flicked down to his lips. “I’ll do you one better,” he said. “If you want.”

Shocked by the sudden change in Steve’s demeanor, Eddie lost his words. All he could do was nod, a little frantically, which he would later blame on the adrenaline.

Steve’s lips met Eddie’s. And Eddie had his second realization of the day.

He would go through that ordeal a thousand times over if it meant Steve would keep kissing him.

A wolf whistle from Robin shattered the moment, and Steve pulled back, breathless and red faced. His eyes searched Eddie’s face, anxiously looking for any hint that he did something wrong. Eddie knew he didn’t have the words to reassure him.

So, Eddie did the first thing that came to mind. He tipped his head up and captured Steve’s lips again, closed his eyes, and gave Robin the most emphatic middle finger he could muster.

[seita]

— better than (m.)

pairing : iwaizumi/reader

wordcount : 3.087

genre : fluff, smut, pwp

cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi

tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3

+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.

When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.

You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.

The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.

The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.

“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”

The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.

There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.

You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.

For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.

It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.

You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.

You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.

That's when it occurred to you.

You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.

When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.

You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.

Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.

Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.

Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.

You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.

You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.

His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”

You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?

He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”

You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.

You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.

“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”

“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”

“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”

You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”

“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.

“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.

“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”

Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.

As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.

“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”

Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”

“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”

He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.

You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.

“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”

You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.

You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”

“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”

As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.

“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”

He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.

“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”

Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.

“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”

“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”

Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”

You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.

But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.

“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.

“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”

He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”

His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.

“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”

Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.

He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.

“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”

You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”

You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.

The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.

Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.

“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.

“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”

“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.

“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.

Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.

He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”

You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.

He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.

He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.

“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.

“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.

He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”

Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”

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