#like i can't stop thinking of jobs where it's completely and utterly normal to be 'acting' the part. they require that!! it's part of it!!!

[hell0mega]

please everyone learn what code switching and style shifting is im begging you

too lazy to retype this but . insane interaction w coworker last night

[fluff-n-cookies]

Thinking about yandad Dabi and his child who's now around 9-11 years old. Your writing has absolutely captivated me <3

Dabi starts getting more possessive, more protective, and certainly more assertive. He's your dad, after all—you HAVE to listen to him, no? It's too dangerous to go outside without him keeping an eye on you, you're still so tiny and fragile. He'll be damned if his kid steps foot out of the apartment without his say so, no ifs or buts.

After a long day of setting people on fire and committing various crimes, Dabi just wants to scoop you up into a bone-crushing hug and plop down onto the couch to snuggle his baby, paying no mind to your complaints.

While he's soft and affectionate towards you, it's a completely different story when it comes to others. Dabi is ruthless and aggressive, destroying anyone and anything that may try to take you away–much less harm you. It doesn't matter how small, Dabi will turn it into ashes without remorse. If you somehow figure out about his actions and try to make a run for it? He'd be crushed, obviously–Dabi can't stand the thought of you fearing him. Rest assured, he'd track you down and bring you back home, suffering you in cuddles while scolding you. He's your dad–you need to listen to him.

(Btw sorry about how long this became didn't realize I was ranting)

omg hi???? thank you for gracing me with this masterpiece??? wtf???? (lovingly)

For those who don't know, this post is related to these

Pt 1, Pt 2

and this is all so fucking true. I plan on making a longer fic on this (sorry to say that I haven't drafted it yet, I'm working on overhaul posts)

but he's so paranoid, so utterly terrified 24/7, he dead bolts all the doors and windows at night and only lets you go outside between 11 AM and 5PM unless it's for school.

speaking of which, he hates them for giving his baby so much homework and taking away from their time together buuttt he genuinely believes you need to get your education, don't skip out on highschool like he did.

and he does this thing, this god awful thing, after dinner, after your daily shower, and after getting you all nice and snuggly for bed and into your cat pajamas. he'll do this thing where he'll hold you tight to his chest while he flicks through the news channel.

now normally this would be fine, perfectly fine, if I weren't for the fact he either goes to true crime channels where they display the horrific acts of villains (himself included) live. he tells you that the world is a horrifying place, that that's how he burned himself, how painful it was, the scorching flames. he doesn't mean to traumatize you, it's just to warn you!

either that, or he'll go to news channels covering endeavor's problems, scandals, recent missions, interviews. please don't ask who that strange man with eyes like yours is. he'll hold you tighter and say in the lightest voice possible. "he's a bad man, don't you dare go near him, he'll hurt you like he hurt me."

don't say anything else after that.

he's just tired, so tired, and you're there, right when he gets home after running "errands". you're his reminder of what he's working towards, this future with no heroes and no pain that he's trying to build. the revenge he longs for and the aftermath where you thrive. really, you're the reason he gets up in the morning these days, the reason he stopped smoking in the house, the reason why there's no more beer in the fridge, only tenderly made lunches that he makes every Sunday to prepare for the week.

you're like this stress ball, this hit of Serotonin and Dopamine and what not. every time you smile he can feel his heart clenching. when he looks at you, he sees the boy he once used to be, happy. you're so happy, so pure.

he refuses to let you go out much, his reasoning being that the world's a terrible place. when you ask what's his job, what he does at "work" every day, he only chuckles.

"Oh baby, I'm trying to makes this world a better place, my job is to try and stop all the bad things from happening. I'm a type of... Freedom fighter, really."

and he so, so, so so so so so so sweet to you. you have never known Dabi, ruthless arsonist and serial killer. you have never known Touya, a boy lost in his own insanity and deprivation of paternal love. both are vicious, people, downright insane. one's a criminal the other's incapable of ever recovering from his own madness and fury.

the only person you know is your Dad, Dad's a nice guy, he plays doll house and dress up with you and watches cartoons with you every morning before school. he lets you wear his jacket when you're cold and left yours at school in your cubby, and he takes you out for donuts or ice cream monthly. sure, he doesn't have money, he can't buy you that many toys and sometimes they turn the light off because he missed too many bills, but he loves you. that's all you need to know.

Dad is a kind person, he's not Dabi or Touya, he's definitely not a hero. he's your dad.

And Dad does the best job of gas-lighting you to hell and back. you want to go outside after 5 or before 11? welp, he's not coming with you, sorry honey, maybe tomorrow. what do you mean you'll go anyway? the boogeyman'll get you! (it's him, he's the boogeyman, he knows you won't last a second out in the real world with your loving father's help and he's going to exploit it the moment you start to show independence.)

but it's very unlikely that Dabi would ever even get the chance to do this when you're 9-11 years old, you know why? because you'll be in Endeavor's custody by then. I refuse to elaborate since then I'll be spoiling the plot of Part 3 and I don't want that.

P.S. you wanna be tagged?

[meanbossart]

Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition

Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.

We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.

And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.

[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]

It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.

Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.

Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!

For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.

You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL

And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.

Well.

Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.

HMMM, I... Don't think so.

He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.

He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL

Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.

Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO

"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"

And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.

And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:

This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.

HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.

A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.

Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.

He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.

If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.

Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.

Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.

(Thank you!!!)

[elvisabutler]

Hey, baby! Love your work!

Can I ask for a Austin x reader where he’s dating a doctor during the wrap of Elvis and she is just tending to him when he gets hospitalised?

physician heal thy boyfriend

summary: your boyfriend is austin butler, star of the hopefully soon to be smash hit elvis. your boyfriend has a habit of pushing himself too far for this role. your boyfriend finds himself in your care while being completely and utterly out of it and sick as a dog. you are- mildly not impressed, but mostly a little worried. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) pairing: austin butler x doctor! reader rating: t word count: 1952 warnings: hospital setting. talk of austin's hospitalization post elvis. talk of austin's injury to his head with the guitar. talk of medication and hallucinations. austin being sick as hell. reader is a doctor. mild implications of a panic attack. imagery of austin being very sick. brief mention of COVID as well. author's note: thank you for this request and the compliment, anon! it always delights me to have people enjoy my writing especially when i know it's not always everyone's cup of tea re: pairings or content. i didn't go super into detail re: the details of austin's hospitalization since- we don't know the exact exact details and i'm not a doctor myself. i hope you enjoy! and apologies for this taking a hot minute, i was trying to focus on kinktober stuff during october and things like this got opened and noticed and worked on- but not posted. also consider this a thanksgiving gift for all the americans who celebrate it. can't bring y'all food from my sil ( who will not let me cook for the family just yet ) but i can provide you fic food. and know that i'm super thankful for all of you.

It's not as if you didn't think this would be a possibility, you had gotten lucky the last time he injured himself- the time with the guitar that you still give him a good ribbing for- and you had been off and not at the hospital and thankfully stitches weren't necessarily your forte, you saved them for the surgeons. However, nothing in the universe, no amount of logic could have prepared you for seeing your boyfriend groaning on a gurney, looking at you with glassy eyes that mean he's not all there. He's physically there, yes, but his mind is either in a haze of a fever or completely given over to whatever pain is inflicting itself on him in the present moment. There's a part of your heart that stutters at the image, a part of your brain that is overwhelmed with sheer panic at seeing him like this. An actor is supposed to be a safe-ish profession, one where you don't have to worry about your significant other being hurt and showing up in an emergency room or at a hospital unexpectedly. Yet here you were, looking at him being struck down by an illness that came out of nowhere- at least- you're pretty sure it did.

Everyone downstairs had gotten him mostly stable from what you've heard and what you see in front of you. You try and not let your mind wander to what he looked like when he was brought in if this is stable, but the thought pops up nonetheless, making you stop in your tracks for just a moment as you took deep breaths. He was alright, you knew how to do your job, you could help him and stay with him. He could use his- he could use the fact that he has just wrapped Elvis- or something they'd make an exception for you just this once.

His current predicament was more your specialty than his guitar injury. Dealing with what would have been a normal case of appendicitis was easy even despite the now present extra complications. Austin- despite your strong suggestions that he maybe should take better care of himself- didn't take better care of himself, turning what could have been something simple into a much rougher infection and gave him lymph nodes you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. If you weren't so worried you're pretty sure you'd make a joke about how he really is trying to become Elvis with the hospital stay despite the fact that you know the movie has wrapped. After all you and him had both are gone to the wrap part at Baz's house. There's a part of you that wonders if that party and the sheer amount of people that were at that party might have been what led to this. But you have learned in your few years as a doctor that it's better to not necessarily speculate like that unless you want to drive yourself up the wall. Besides if that was the cause of Austin's predicament right now you're not a hundred percent sure you wouldn't be a bit peeved at Baz. As it stands, you do end up shooting off a text to him asking him what on Earth happened and if he knew Austin wasn't feeling well that morning when they had met up for breakfast.

A groan from Austin's bed knocks you out of your head and reminds you that you have a job to do and you get yourself into gear, making sure he's got the correct tests ordered, the right medication ordered and everything you can think of that will make sure he will be comfortable even as his body tries to fully rebel against him. It's a bit touch and go for the first two days and the few times you think Austin is coherent and realizes that you are there he mutters 'Cilla and Satnin and you try to not take it personally, instead reminding yourself that his medicine has a tendency to have a side effect of at least mild hallucinations and he did just get done pretending to be Elvis for the greater part of almost two years. After that second day and heading into the third, you realize he's seeming more normal, his eyes look a little clearer when you see them open and you chance a proper visit, one where you stay there until he wakes up just to actually check on him properly.

A proper visit where the exhaustion of taking care of all your other patients and him might end up catching up to you and has you passing out with your head in his lap in what is the- most comfortable chair you could use to sleep in- if you had used it normally and not pulled it up next to his bed. The first thing you're aware of as you wake up is a hand on your head and a very rough sounding southern drawl coming from above you.

"What- Y/N, what- why are ya in m'lap, baby?" The confusion is evident in his voice but as you groggily lift your head up and look into his eyes, you can see it written all over there as well.

It takes you a minute or so to wake up, your eyes adjusting to the light and to the movement of Austin shifting in the bed, trying to make himself more comfortable. When you finally do you blink at him and purse your lips. "What's the last thing you remember, Aus?"

You very rarely use that specific nickname with him, saving it only for occasions when you feel he needs to honestly pay attention to you. That alone causes him to sit up as straight as he can and just look at you with an intensity you know he couldn't have managed either of the previous days.

"I was with Baz and-" He pauses, biting his lower lip before wincing. "Pain. A lot of pain and feeling like I was on fire."

The description earns a grim smile from you before you exhale, shaking your head. "That is a pretty good description of what you looked like when I got called down to make sure you weren't going to die or be left permanently incapacitated. Now I know my boyfriend didn't specifically ignore my orders as his doctor girlfriend to actually take care of himself especially now that filming was winding down. And I know he didn't act like a teenager who when I wasn't around to maybe check or was too busy at work just took advantage of that and didn't take care of himself. Because he's a smart guy, isn't he?"

Austin looks like he's about to say the first thing that comes to mind, the first- you imagine- pretty idiotic thing that comes to mind before he sees the look on your face and realizes this is a battle he will not win. "I-" He stops and moves to grab your hand. "I might have continued to push myself because I'm a bit of an idiot who definitely was taking advantage of my long hours and your long hours to hide that. Is that what I need to admit? Or do I need to keep going?"

You can't help but laugh at the question, biting your lip to prevent a full fit of laughter from escaping. "I mean, you can keep going, I'm actually a little curious to see how big of a hole you can dig yourself into, by all means." Your eyes slide up to his IV bag and you frown, grabbing his remote to call a nurse, the alarm hasn't sounded that it's empty and due for a change but- you know how busy it's been lately and you're not in the mood to have Austin wait for too long.

Austin's quiet for a moment as he looks at you, noting how he swears you have some lines on your forehead that you didn't have before. He put those there- he made you worry so much you got new worry lines. It doesn't distract from your beauty, far from it, but still it sens a rush of guilt through him that has him placing his hand on your cheek. Before you realize what you're doing, you nuzzle your cheek against his hand, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Letting out tension in your shoulders that haven't left since he first was brought in. "I'm- Nothing is going to change what happened, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry baby."

A shaky sort of breath leaves your body before you grab Austin's hand and move to kiss it before you touch his cheek. "I know you are. Because you scared the shit out of me. And Baz, but he wasn't the one taking care of you, who didn't know what exactly was wrong and how you could-" You shut your eyes and rub at them. "You're not allowed to do this to me again, Mr. Butler. I started dating you because you're supposed to be the safe bet, no silly injuries or COVID or sickness like this. And look at you, a guitar to the head, this, you better not make it a trifecta."

He shakes his head, moving his hand that you still have held to brush away tears you have falling. "I wouldn't dream of it." He pauses. "How long am I in here for?"

"A week." You answer quicker than you should. "Might be overkill but you've got your antibiotics via IV and while you live with me and I can change it, I also have to be at work half the time so hospital it is."

Austin flushes and you think for a moment he's going to be sick before you see how he's looking at you- it's a look you know well, one that usually leads to things in the bedroom and you just narrow your eyes as he starts to speak. "So, you're my doctor then. And I'm your patient."

You take a moment to just look up at the ceiling and purse your lips, wondering not for the first time why you ever started dating Austin when he says dumb things like that. It shouldn't be something that's funny, and it really isn't but you've been so worried about him for the past two days that hearing that stupid joke as much as it makes you roll your eyes just makes you laugh. "I am and you are. But as your doctor I cannot in good conscience condone any shenanigans of a sexual sort just yet. Maybe in a few days."

He nods solemnly as he sees a nurse entering a room. He leans over for a moment, knowing fully well you can't stop laughing and won't just yet. "Just show up in only the your coat and we'll know if I'm feeling better. You know I can't resist your sexy doctor look."

If you have to tell the nurse about changing his IV bag through broken off bits of laughter, that's his fault. If you can't help but slap his arm lightly when he tries to grab at your butt- seriously, you really should have remembered the side effects of his medicine and his inhibitions- then that's also his fault. If later on that day you find yourself curled up against him watching some Australian soap opera? Well, despite not being on duty this particular day, you are still his doctor, and a little rest and a lot of cuddles might have been your additional recommendation for the start of an optimal recovery.

And really, who was he to argue?

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 8

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 7

Next → Part 9

Feeling a body shift beside you, you slowly began to wake from your deep, dreamless sleep. With thin rays of sunlight shining through the crack between the curtains, you let a content, sleepy smile toy at the corners of your lips as you rolled over in Keishin's arms and came face to face with his sleeping form.

It had been over a week since you had started staying with Keishin and even though waking up beside someone every morning definitely took some getting used to, you were a little surprised by just how quickly it was beginning to feel normal. Not only that, but you never slept better than you did in Keishin's bed with his warm, calming presence beside you and strong, protective arm draped over your waist.

Eyes closed and lips slightly parted, Keishin was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and at some point during the night, just like every other night, his hair—which wasn't tamed by the headband while he slept—had gotten all messed up and a few strands had fallen into his face.

Whenever you woke up before him, you would always take the chance to just look at him. While he slept, he seemed completely and utterly at peace—no longer burdened by the stress of coaching volleyball, working at the store, and no doubt whatever extra problems you had brought into his life. You thought back to the time you had watched him sleeping on the couch in the back room and sighed happily; the thought of how much things had changed in such a short period of time truly putting things into perspective.

Unable to keep your hands to yourself any longer, you reached out slowly and brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face and tucked them behind his ear—the same way you had done when you two had first had sex and the same way you had done countless times since.

Keishin could sleep through a thunderstorm or the sound of you calling out his name, but as soon as he felt your fingertips graze against his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. Upon noticing he was awake, you made your touch more prominent and caressed his face.

"Good morning," you whispered, unwilling to raise your voice any more than that and ruin the soft ambiance of the early morning.

Keishin leaned into your touch and smiled softly. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you answered as you ran your thumb along his bottom lip, internally debating if you should ambush him with kisses now or wait until he had woken up a little more first. Chuckling to yourself over your own thoughts, you caught yourself staring at his lips and directed your gaze back to his eyes. "I'm just looking at you."

Keishin scoffed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your thumb. "Why?"

"Because you look so beautiful when you're asleep," you told him matter-of-factly. "Not that you don't always look beautiful," you added quickly before he could make some sort of sarcastic comment.

Keishin rolled his eyes before pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you. "You're such a sap, you know that?"

You laughed. "First, I'm dramatic. Now I'm a sap. What's next?"

"I have no idea." Keishin shrugged the best he could while lying down. "What I do know, however," he glanced at the clock, "is that we need to get up and get ready."

Following Keishin's gaze to the time, you huffed sadly when you noticed there were only five minutes left until your alarm would go off, forcing you to get ready to open the store. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?" you asked, hoping you could convince him to stay under the covers with you.

"Not unless we want to go broke and end up living under a bridge together."

You chuckled as Keishin crawled out of bed, the temptation of slapping his ass gently when he stood up almost too much but you managed to control yourself. "Together?" You grinned. "You'd stay with me even if we were both dirt poor?"

Keishin rolled his eyes playfully at your takeaway from his statement. "Of course." He collected his clothes before making his way around to your side of the bed and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I think I like plumbing and heating too much to give them up, so let's shower and get ready."

Sitting up in bed, you cocked an eyebrow. "You want to shower together?"

Keishin flashed a devilish smirk as he headed for the bathroom. "Purely for the purpose of saving water." He disappeared into the bathroom and seconds later his boxers flew out and landed on the floor, indicating he was completely nude. "But if you hate the planet, then I guess that's on you."

Your cheeks flushed red but nevertheless, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and began removing your clothes as you approached the bathroom. "Sure," you laughed as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself and let your eyes wander over Keishin's wet, naked body as he stood under the steaming water. "If it's for the planet, how could I possibly say no?"

20 minutes of passionate kissing and soapy hands exploring every inch of each other's body later, the two of you towelled off and finished getting ready before sitting down for a quick breakfast together.

"So the volleyball team has a game today, right?" you asked Keishin as you poured milk into your bowl of cereal. Keishin nodded. "What time do you think you will be home?"

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Probably around six or seven tonight. The game is right after school so it shouldn't run too late."

"Okay." You sat down across from him at the table. "Should we get dinner after I close up the shop?"

Keishin nodded again. "Sounds like a plan."

With a few more bites of his breakfast, Keishin was setting his dishes in the sink, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, and rushing down the stairs and out of the building to start his day.

As you listened to his footsteps stomp down the stairs, followed by the sound of the back door opening and closing to indicate that he had left, you sighed to yourself and sat back in your chair. It was then that you took a minute to think about everything; your job, your boyfriend, your living arrangements, your tattered relationship with your parents. In the span of a few months, your life had completely turned upside down, but that wasn't the part that freaked you out the most.

What really got you thinking was the fact that, even though your life had done a complete 180, you had never been happier; which led to the constant internal questioning about if you had ever really been happy before you had met Keishin at all, or if this was just a different kind of happy—a happy that only a stable, supportive significant other could provide.

Before you had the chance to get lost in your thoughts, you snapped out of it, finished your breakfast, and headed downstairs to open the shop and begin your day.

As usual, you dealt with the typical morning rush of people stopping in to grab a coffee or other various food items on their way to work or school. Once the mid-morning slump hit and the customer traffic went way down, you took the time to do some routine cleaning and inventory. By now, you were like a well-oiled machine when it came to the daily task of running the store.

Around noon, as you were finishing up stocking some shelves, the front door opened and a very well-dressed man strolled into the store. "Hello," you greeted him, standing from where you were kneeling in front of the shelves and dusting off your pants.

The man gave you a once over, eyeing you from head to toe. Without so much as an acknowledging nod, he brushed past you and toward the full-length fridges at the back.

Assuming the man just wasn't in a chatty mood, you took the empty boxes to the storage room. When you exited, the man was already standing at the front counter, impatiently tapping his foot while he held two bottles of water in his hands.

"Sorry for the wait," you apologized. "Just the waters today?"

The man just nodded and let out a grunt.

Trying not to take his dismissive attitude too seriously, you rang up his purchases and gave him the total. Instead of pulling out his wallet, however, he just gave you a dirty look.

"That's a little expensive for two bottles of water, don't you think?" he retorted.

You didn't know what to say to that, so you shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't make the prices, sir," you told him. "I just work here."

Huffing loudly, the man fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out some bills before tossing them haphazardly onto the counter. "Fine. Don't forget my change."

Before you could open the cash register, the front doors opened again and a woman dressed in a beautiful dress with her hair done up elegantly walked in and stopped beside the man before you. "Have you paid yet?" she asked the man, who was either her boyfriend or husband based on the way she was hanging off of his arm. "I just realized I'm out of cigarettes."

"I'm just paying now," he told her, his face softer than you had seen it yet before he turned back to you and asked for the brand of cigarettes that his partner smoked.

Spinning around, you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the empty dispenser of cigarettes, meaning that you were out of the brand he had requested. Of course, the delivery for that day hadn't come in yet, making your job even harder right now.

Plastering the warmest smile on your face that you could muster, you turned back to the couple. "I apologize, but we are all out of that brand. Can I get you something else?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "No, everything else tastes like garbage."

"I see." You stepped back up to the cash register. "So just the waters then?"

The man nodded. "I guess so if your shitty little store doesn't even stock up on popular brands of cigarettes." He watched you intently as you opened the register and counted his change. "I knew we should have stopped somewhere other than this hole in the wall."

As much as you so desperately wanted to rip this man and his spoiled girlfriend a new one, you bit your tongue instead and grinned as you handed him back his change. "Here you are." You dropped the coins into his outstretched hand. "Have a wonderful day."

Neither one of them said anything in response as they turned on their heels and marched out of the store, noses turned up at everything around them. As you watched them get into their fancy car and speed away, you wondered if they treated everyone like that or just lowly corner store workers like yourself.

Trying to let the incident slide off of you like water off of a duck's back, you returned to the remaining tasks on your to-do list and tried to forget all about being treated like a second-class citizen.

As the day turned to late afternoon and the after-school and after-work rush hit, you had found your way back into your groove again.

An hour or so before closing time, and roughly around the time Keishin would be returning, you heard a pair of heels clacking against the tile floor and stood up front behind the counter only to come face-to-face with your mother. Dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, it was obvious she had just come from work, but your attention was more focused on the envelope she was holding out to you.

"This came for you the other day." She didn't even bother with a simple greeting even though it had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to her or your father.

"Oh, okay." You reached out and took the envelope from her. Turning it over, you felt your heart jump into your throat when you read that it was from the University of Tokyo.

You looked up at your mother expectantly but she waved you off. "Don't ask me what it says, I didn't open it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Why didn't you tell your father and me that you applied to the University of Tokyo? It's a very good school."

"Because I didn't do it for you," you said as you tucked the envelope into your back pocket. "And I certainly didn't do it to go to law school or anything you guys would approve of."

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you. "Then why did you do it?"

"To play soccer," you answered, your mind immediately going to the conversation you had had with Keishin while taking inventory together. "And because I told someone I would."

Your mother eyed you for a minute more, waiting to see if you would reach for the envelope again to open it. When you made no indication of sharing your application results with her, she hummed softly. "Well, whatever that letter says, you should take some time to seriously consider what your next step is going to be." She turned to leave but stopped halfway to the door and looked at you over her shoulder. "It's not too late to make the right choice. Think carefully before you throw your life away."

With that, your mother exited the store, leaving you with a mixed slurry of emotions and no clue how to deal with any of them.

Pulling the envelope out of your back pocket, you set it down on the counter in front of you and stared at it. Whatever was printed on the single piece of paper inside would set a course for your future . . . although you were unsure if you even still wanted the future that this piece of paper could give you.

All you wanted was to be happy, and all you knew was that Keishin gave you that.

Anything more felt like asking for too much.

Anything more felt like a gamble that wasn't worth the risk.

[thejustmaiden]

So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉

Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha

I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.

For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!

Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.

[Snippet 1]

I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.

[Snippet 2]

Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.

[Snippet 3]

LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?

That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢

After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]

Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!

It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷‍♀️

I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.

You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.

This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.

So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!

Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!

We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!

Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.

I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.

At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.

Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞

[timeisacephalopod]

It really strikes me that people treat fanfic authors as if they don't know anything about writing, which is weird because even before I wrote fic I cowrote a stage play I got an award for back in high school, poetry my teachers would frequently compliment, and my own original ideas in novel format- which structurally you learn in high school it's not some fucking Devine Knowledge no one knows about? If you didn't learn what an inciting incident is and the basic structure of a novel and tropes like The Heroes Journey by eleventh grade then fine but don't project that onto a format of writing you have some weird vendetta against. After that I went to uni and wrote dozens of academic essays for my degree, some of them quite extensive in length and obviously there's technical skill involved in that writing.

Besides that after I stopped writing fic I learned how to write screenplays and wrote like 3 episodes of TV shows in film school- which by the way used other showrunners ideas because writing an episode of an existing show is how you build a portfolio. That's right fanfic hating assholes, if you want a tv writing job pull out ur fuckin fanfic out so your ability to capture the voice of another show can be judged. I also wrote a movie script in school and I highly doubt I'm some Special Snowflake among fic authors, so where the hell does this idea that fic authors are all 13 year old yaoi obsessed morons who've never even seen a book their whole life and never learned even the most basics of writing like what an adjective is come from?

I know people who hold this idea don't seem to think they're misogynists but they treat fic identical to how people treat romance and erotica outside of Fic World and I highly doubt two areas in which women are the ones doing most of the writing would get targeted with the exact same rhetoric of "that's not real writing" for completely different reasons if the arguments against the fiction are basically the same. Because obviously Real Literature doesn't have romance, sex, or women writing it.

Regardless, it's utterly asinine to assume fic authors have no idea how to write because they're writing fic- like actually no, technically speaking I'm qualified to write all kinds of shit as far as what I know, so I don't much appreciate that my writing a single form of writing somehow means I have no skills or training just because Ive written that particular format according to some people. It's deeply insulting and I really do wonder if people think people who write as a hobby should even be allowed to have that hobby if theyre this obsessed with publish or don't ever even LOOK at a word. Like not only is it insulting to suggest that my hobby is somehow some particularly god awful drivel, but apparently those people don't know what a hobby is given that zero other hobbies get treated like this. No one walks around telling people if they aren't playing professional sports they can't play them at all- we just know that normal dudes playing football probably aren't Tom Brady and aren't looking to be either.

[just-a-creep-babe]

I'm back?? Creeps with a really go with the flow, devil-may-care, Not afraid of death, Chill SO? [EX: *meets creeps* Wow, okay, this is my life now I guess. || Same stuff as always! *helps hide body* || You wanna fly into the Bermuda triangle and live to stream it? Heck yeah, she'll bring spicy sour patch kids. || Don't worry! I'm still in shock! Can't feel a thing! || '*does something stupid* we survived? Brilliant. Love it when that happens. ] Thanks!♡

~Requests are closed but commissions are open~

Masterlist: x

Slenderman

Jfc—why?

He’s already worried about litcherally everyone else in the mansion, now you too?

He is Quite Concerned™️

Lowkey more concerned for you over the others but that’s a given tbh

Honestly questions how tf you’ve manage to make it this far without dying

He makes it his personal mission to keep you safe at all costs—no matter what

So on the bright side, you sort of inherit this ancient eldritch being as a personal bodyguard!

But on the not-so bright side, said being just doesn’t let ya have any fun around here >:/

Will physically restrain you from doing something stupid so you don’t get caught up in anything dangerous

Starts considering giving you a curfew or smthg because even he can’t keep up with the stuff you get pulled into

But he respects you too much for that, ofc, so he just begrudgingly accepts that you’ll keep doing you—no matter how irresponsible or dangerous it might be :”)

Still loves you despite the heart attacks you nearly put him through every other day :)

Jeff the Killer

This 👏mans 👏will 👏love 👏you 👏forever 👏

At first, admittedly, he’s a teensy bit put off by your nonchalance because how can someone actually be that laid back all the time??

But once he adjusts to it & realizes that you aren’t, in fact, faking it for whatever reason, he’ll be completely & utterly enamored with you

Like,, he can do a bunch of stupid shit & drag you along into it & you won’t freak out??

Sign 👏him 👏up 👏

Loves not having to worry about you sanity tbh—there’s no need to hide all the dangerous crap he does because he knows you won’t worry ^^

And homeboy most definitely will take advantage of your go-with-the-flow nature

He’s got a taste for danger & doing stupid shit—how could he not bring you along with him?

If/when y’all get caught & put in trouble tho, he’ll take the blame so that you don’t suffer for something that was most likely his idea

Jeff? Doing the right thing? It may be more likely than you think 🤔

It still sometimes unnerves him just how chill you are with everything, but hey, he can’t let you outdo him in badass-ness, so he’s guaranteed to incite plenty of chaos to prove himself; it’s bound to be an exciting time uwu

BEN Drowned

Oh he is sO down

One of the perks of being dead? He probably can’t die again

So there are absolutely no limits to the insane shenanigans he’s willing to pull off

The fact that you’re just as down to clown makes thing so much better

It gets to the point where someone constantly needs to keep an eye on the both of you so you don’t accidentally end up dying

Cause BEN (and bless his soggy soul) as much as he loves you, tends to forget how fragile human beings can be

So it’s up to the others to make sure your lack of self-preservation doesn’t get you killed

But your fearlessness & nonchalance is like a breath of fresh air!

Things can get a teensy bit boring when you’re immortal, so he’s more than happy to have a badass s/o by his side who’s down for pretty much anything uwu

Y’all get into a bunch of stupid, dangerous & probably illegal shit—but he wouldn’t want it any other way 😘

Eyeless Jack

Similar to Slendaddy, this mans is Concerned™️

He will constantly check you over to see if you need to get patched up because he knows you’re a danger magnet

But at the same time, he doesn’t wanna be too overbearing

Like he definitely has this live & let live mentally (prolly in part due to his diet) so he‘ll try not to bring up too often how nervous he is about your safety & well-being

You’ve accepted him as he is, part demon and all, so he feels like he owes you the same

Even if it does scare the shit out of him because my god what have you gotten yourself into this time??

He’s kinda like a worried mom tbh—he’ll pack you up a lunch & send you off with a “be safe, don’t do anything dangerous, say no to drugs,” and stuff, even despite knowing you probably won’t listen

Homeboy just wants you to grow & experience the world for yourself :”)

Still, he’ll ask the others to keep an eye out for you & to not put you in too much danger

And he’ll totally sometimes follow you from the shadows just to make sure you’re staying safe skdjsjdlsjl

He’s a protective demon boi, what can I say? :)

Masky

He’s,,,, pretty impressed actually

Thinks your nonchalant attitude is kinda badass

Of course he still gets worried, but he’s also prone to forgetting how fragile most people are

His pain tolerance is pretty dang high, so he doesn’t always realize certain things can hurt normal people. Badly

He’ll feel super bad if you get injured with him, but at least homeboy will try to make it up by giving you plenty of sweets & cuddles uwu

He might try to give you a stern talking-to so that you’re more careful, but he knows it won’t stop you from being you

Still, overall, he thinks it’s pretty sweet that you’re down for, like, anything

Will probably wanna take you with him for jobs sometimes—just cause he can & it probably won’t traumatize you too bad :>

Just don’t tell slender

Thinks his bold little s/o is damn cool & lowkey brags abt you all the time uwu

Hoodie

He thinks it’s pretty funny lmfaoo

Is torn between being worried & wanting you safe while also desperately wanting to just be like “fuck it” and do a bunch of stupid shit with you :”)

Will probably take advantage of how you don’t worry much to tag you along in his shenanigans

But at least he’ll make your safety & comfort his utmost top priority uwu

Honestly, he admires how chill you are with shit that’s pretty traumatizing—it’s almost funny that you’re just as brave as he is, considering his line of work and all

It’s,, kinda intriguing to him; homeboy will maybe wanna psychoanalyze you a lil 👀👉👈

You’re just so interesting, he can’t help but be a smidge fascinated 👁👄👁

Really wants to be able to make some good, wild memories with you <3

He’s honestly the perfect balance of protective & adventurous at the same time

Just wants to please his little s/o and keep them safe & happy while fulfilling their need for wild shenanigans :>

Ticci Toby

Oh boy

He is the same

Together, y’all are chaotic af

The creeps know not to leave you unsupervised because shit will go down

The utmost chaotic duo in need of constant watching over & patching up ngl 😅

Seriously, the others are damn near always worried about babysitting you two because you’re both danger magnets

And it doesn’t help that Toby has no concept of danger and/or pain

He’ll try to be super sympathetic if/when you do get injured, but poor boy will be clueless af as to how to help

So more often than not, he’ll end up using himself as a human shield to protect you from danger to make up for it

Either way, y’all get into so much shit, it’s unbelievable

Kinda perfect together but like,, in the worst of ways lmfaooo

[pars-ley]

Umbra (part one)

Pairing: Demon Jimin x Angel Reader

Summary: An encounter with a mysterious demon leaves you reeling from an unexpected discovery.

Rating: 18+ (sfw) future chapters may be (nsfw)

Genre: Fantasy au / Demon Jimin au / Soulmate au / Strangers to lovers au / Angst / Fluff / Series 

Word count: 1585

Warnings: fight scene / bloody injury / mentions of loss of blood / Talk of Demons / Description of non human demon

Tag list: @jungkooksbroski​  If you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know.

A/N: This is for the @btswritersclub monthly mini project and the prompt was "magic". Also used my @btsholidaybingo sqaure "dark alleys". Keep reading line before 500 words as description of Demon.

Beta reader: @unoriginal-username15432​ thank you! You're a goddess as usual. 

Mood board: @wheresmymoniat​ Thank you Elle for making this "just for fun" and somehow having delved into my mind to make it exactly how I would have imagined, your big brain continues to astound me.

The blinding white flash lit up the night sky as you wrap your long coat around you tighter, to shield yourself from the fierce wind this evening. 

You know this isn't normal lightning and there's no storm on its way to wreak havoc, it was the work of a demon creating chaos, as they usually do. 

You quicken your pace, aiming for where the burst of brilliant light slices through the inky blanket covering the city. 

Another bright flash - closer this time - as you watch the veiny patterns it momentarily leaves behind in its path, your face being pelted with heavy rain drops as you force your eyes away from the sky. You're so close, you run, letting your coat open and flap wildly either side of you with each step you take, one foot bounding in front of the other. 

An explicitly dark alleyway has you halted in your tracks. Not just any dark. Thick, inescapable dark. You've been into this kind of darkness before and it almost cost you, but that was different, you were young and naïve. 

You'd made a mistake. 

You'd tried to face a notorious demon on your own and almost lost, you got lucky. Now you were prepared, you could do this.

You take a confident step forward into the black before you and leave your fears on the pavement.

Wandering blindly for what feels like an eternity, something's presence lurking all around you, encasing you in a sickly, choking embrace, you have to remind yourself to concentrate and look for the way out, the edge of the emptiness. The end of the cloak.

Breathe. Focus. 

You see the tiny slither of light and force your body in its direction, urgent and wild, pushing past the rim of the ebony cover. You're out and it's over, you can breathe again. 

A menacing growl beside you has you spinning sharply on your heels, reeling to find two demons fighting in the alley.

One a human form and one far from it. Recognition of this monster clicks in your mind, one of the most dangerous and wanted demons of our time, here, right in front of you, quarrelling with another similar of its kind but not the same. 

Could you face two of them and survive? 

It's too late to back out now. 

The giant monster springs, long, sharp claws out and aiming for his victim, only, at the last moment he spots you. You brace yourself as he lunges straight at you, his body slamming into yours. 

Sharp pain gouges in your side, pulling a loud cry from your lips as anger bubbles hot in your chest. Your hands clasp around his hairy arms, keeping them firmly away from you. As he fights against your vice grip, large fangs snapping his snout viciously mere centimetres away from your face.

In one swift moment his heaviness is gone and your lungs fill frantically with air, you shoot up on your feet, wincing at the resistance from your side. You don't want to look, if you ignore it then it's not there.

The human figure crouches protectively in front of you, you're perplexed but far too distracted by the grotesque creature preparing to attack once again.

"Stay behind me!" The human demon orders you.

How strange. 

You are not his ally and yet he's treating you as one. 

"I can handle him." You retort, bringing your power to the surface ready.

He laughs, the sound infuriating. "Yea sure, looks like it from the blood you're losing."

Fury blinds you for a moment, before snapping you back into the present, you have to focus your attack on one demon at a time and this man can wait.

The creature dives forward towards the two of you, using your ability to hoist him off his feet and into the air, your pale smoky vines of power suspending him and snaking around his ankles above you. 

You notice the man glance sideways at you, surprise evident in his features. 

He uses his dark, wispy tendrils of magic to wrap around the monster's limbs, binding him in mid air before you both slam him into the ground, the hairy beast disappearing into nothing, banished back into another realm.

The cloak of darkness lifts as does the rain. 

"What are you?" You demand. Curious as to why a demon would be banishing others of his kind. That's your job.

He slowly turns to you, eyes wary and narrowed. "You know what I am." 

What kind of demon could he be? You’ve  never come across one like him before. Even as he stands a distance away, you feel yourself drawn to him, drawn to his movements, to the way he stares at you, watching you behind heavy lids. 

He moves closer. "Look, if you're going to banish me, I'd rather we just get this over with." He says nonchalantly, dusting off his hands, looking at ease and quite frankly bored with the conversation already.

You frown. You should do exactly that. No talking, no hesitating, just get rid of him. However, something stops you, holds you back from doing what you know is right but something inside you is screaming that it is   wrong.

"Why did you banish him?" You fire back, needing some answers for this unexplainable feeling deep in your gut.

"You already know the answer to that too." His eyes are fixed on yours as he begins to close the distance that stretches out between you. 

You retreat until your back is met with cold hard brick. 

"He was a demon, he doesn't belong on this plane. There. Is that the answer you're really looking for?" His perfectly arched eyebrow lifts as he throws the question at you.

You watch his pillowy lips pull up into an arrogant smirk. "Come now," he leans in closer, only a breath away, his sweet scent intoxicating your senses and whispers, "what is it you really want to know?" 

You're frozen, unable to move and run like your head is telling you to, unable to cast him away or banish him. All you can do is ball your hands into fists at your sides to stop yourself from reaching out to him, from running a finger along his flawless, smooth skin. 

Angels are not affected by demon powers, they can't be charmed or willed or seduced, it's one of your perks and yet here you stand, immobile like a frightened little dormouse. But not because of this demon or his powers, this is entirely your own doing, your own cage you've built yourself. 

He studies you over curiously, you wonder if your eyes mirror the very look in his. "Why are you not banishing me?" He asks, utterly perplexed.

"Why are you not trying to kill me?" You finally find your voice, stronger and braver than you hoped for.

His dark, smoky tendrils snake their way up your legs and body, until they're forcing your arms in the air above your head. 

Your own pale vines of smoke meet his and entwine around them, halting them in their tracks.

He frowns at you, wide eyed. "What is this? What magic are you enticing me with?"

You scoff, hardly believing those words came out of his mouth and not yours. "I was going to ask you the same question."

Something clicks inside you, something deep down within your soul. Suddenly, you feel at ease, comfortable, at home. Your chest swells with a feeling you can't quite place, like being in love, only more than that. You feel complete. 

His powers release their grip and your arms are freed, but your powers are still joined, still embracing.

"What's happening?" You ask bewildered. 

He takes the one last step towards you, your bodies now touching, pressed firmly against each other. His thumb slides softly across your cheek, a caress that has you feeling dizzy and your knees weak. 

"Tell me angel, do you have a mark?" He whispers, searching your eyes as if they held the answers to life's questions.

All you can do is nod, frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Could it be, I've finally found you?" He says quietly, more to himself you think.

You question him with your eyes, pleading with him to elaborate, wondering if this is all a trick before he slaughters you right here. 

He lifts the sleeve of his dark shirt and reveals his mark, an intricate, pink little pattern, almost like a scar. We are all born with these marks, none are alike, except for your life mate, which matches yours like a puzzle piece. 

He looks at you with wildly desperate eyes.

You lift your sleeve, hands trembling. 

You don't even have to look to know it matches. The overwhelming adoration in his eyes fills your heart to the brim, fit to burst. 

"It's you. I've actually found you, and an angel at that." He lets out a small laugh. His smile is more beautiful than any scene or sunset.

Your soulmate, the one who will be bound to you in this life and the next and follow you for eternity. You've found him.

But it's not that simple, for a moment later he has disappeared, your magic clutches to thin air, nothing but emptiness fills the space around you and consumes your insides as you frantically look around. He's gone without a trace and you have no idea where to begin looking to find him again.

[hiptoff]

The beach case

Find chapter 3 on AO3.

Chapter 3.

“Anna, do you have a minute?”

That impressive blond poked his head through the office door, where we were all getting ready to leave work at the end of the day, drawing the gazes of everyone present on me.

“Uh… sure.”

I went out into the hall feeling how some looks vilely stabbed me in the back and I found his expression of indifference making it obvious how alien he was to the effect he caused on others.

“Are you done?” he asked quite naturally.

“Yes, I was already getting ready to go home, why?”

“Are you sure you are okay with me going with you?”

For goodness’ sake, yes! See him in the morning and before bed? Seeing a Kristoff that none of the women who are mentally hanging me right now can see? How could I not want to?! And, on the other hand, no! If they found out, hanging me would no longer just be in their imagination... And besides, he was my boss! How correct was that? Although he didn't seem to give it the slightest importance, it wasn't clear to me that it was allowed.

“Anna?” he asked at my, probably too long, silence.

“Sure! No problem!”

He frowned slightly as he clearly doubted the veracity of my words.

“Okay. If you say so…” he said shrugging. “Then, go ahead if you want, I know the way. I'm going to the locker to get my suitcase and see you later at your house, okay?”

“Gosh, Kristoff!!”

Was he crazy?! I didn't think twice, I hooked his arm, dragged him to the elevator where I made him enter, and pressed the button for the highest floor to give us time to talk with some privacy.

“Where is the corpse?” he asked with a sexy smirk as soon as the elevator closed.

There was no other possible way to answer, I gave him a flick on the upper arm to which he responded by rubbing himself energetically while laughing out loud. Shit, that was not the time to get hooked on his laughter, but there was something about it that made me unable to stop staring at how his Adam's apple moved with each expulsion of air.

‘Anna, focus! Take care of your job and your skin.’

“Hey, it is perfectly fine with me that you're coming: I don't want any more surprises on the beach; but you can't go around spreading it, okay?”

“What's the problem with it?”

“They’re going to kill me!”

“What?! Who?! Why does everything have to do with deaths with you?!”

The unexpected and high-pitched crack of voice that left his throat took me completely by surprise. His voice was usually warm and soft. However, he seemed to lack control over his highs. I had to hold back a little cackle. I didn't want to make him feel ridiculous. Deep down, I also liked those cute cracks. Wait, were we that close to each other just a few seconds ago?

‘Seriously, Anna, focus.’

“Don't you realize how the girls (and most of the boys) in the magazine look at you? You drive everyone crazy! If they find out that we are sharing a flat, they won't let me out of it so easily.”

“I think you are imagining things.”

“It's not my imagination! I could feel their evil aura emanating from their bodies when you called me!”

He laughed clearly amused by what he believed to be my ravings and shook his head.

“So, what? Assuming what you're saying wasn't utterly crazy…”

“Hey!”

“What do you think I should do? To live hiding so as not to bother others?”

“Err…”

Okay, I had no answer for that.

“If there was something more than companionship between you and me,” he added without removing his gaze from mine and making me shudder ridiculously. “I don't think anyone had anything to say about it. It would be our lives and our decision. Don't you think?”

I focused on breathing with absolute normality, as if everything that he had raised with absolute indifference hadn't put my heart in the open of my throat, and I answered as relaxed as possible.

“You're right. Your life is yours and the fact that our relationship meant my last hours of life shouldn't stop you.”

He laughed again, even more widely than before.

“Buuuut,” I pointed out interrupting that shocking laugh that made my body vibrate and made me aware again of how close of me his breath was in that small and closed space. “I'm not sure that Yelena's opinion was not important either. I don't know if there are any regulations regarding the extra-labor relationships of the company's workers, but I bet she wouldn't like knowing that the new boss lives in my house. I don't want them to think that there is favoritism, you know?”

“Hm… You're right. I'll ask Sam about the regulations in force.”

“Sam?”

The elevator stopped and the door opened to close immediately afterward when he leaned over me and pressed the button for our floor to direct us back down. During the second that his neck extended a few inches from my nose, my mind clouded and I could only feel the soft scent that his skin gave off. That wasn't cologne: it was him.

“Samantha, from Human Resources, “he said answering the question that I had almost forgotten that I had just asked. “She’s the friend who got me the interview.”

“Samantha? It sounds like I have heard of her, but I don't think I’ve mether.”

“She doesn't show her face up a lot; she’s a very busy schedule.”

‘Samantha, huh?’

My heart dropped from my throat straight to the pit of my stomach. Couldn't it just be placed in its place at once?

“And how are you supposed to ask her without making her suspect anything?”

“I am a single man and there are a lot of people here. It wouldn't be so strange if I met someone that I was interested in. I will tell her that I am making sure how far I can go if the opportunity arises.”

‘Single? Good to know. Wait, it is?’

“And… what if it wasn't allowed?”

“Well, I would go back to sleep on the beach until I found another place. I don't want to put your job at risk.”

After a few seconds of silence, which we both spent looking at the screen with the floor indicator number descending one by one, the elevator began to brake again and, seeing that time was running out, I plucked up my courage and made him the question that kept haunting my head.

“And… what if you fall in love with someone?”

The door opened and Kristoff calmly stepped out of it, stopped, turned to me, and smirked.

“In that case, I should assess what is most important to me and go for it with all my might.”

I swallowed hard as his eyes approached me smiling accompanied by the rest of his body entering the elevator again. He leaned toward me slightly and whispered in my ear.

“See you later.”

Then, he pressed the button for the highest floor again and left the elevator quickly without giving me time to react before the door closed again and took me on a journey up once more.

“Kristoff!!!!”

I could hear his laugh moving away from me, or, rather, me from it, and I sat on the floor needing to collect my ideas and calm my emotions.

‘What’s going on with me?!’

Two long elevator rides and a fifteen-minute walk later, I arrived at the door of my block where my impossible boss was waiting sitting on his suitcase.

“If you hadn't done such a silliness, you wouldn't have had to wait on the street.”

“But that way it's been much more discreet, don't you think?”

I shook my head at how childish that big guy could seem and opened the door, making him walk in. He diligently followed me home and put his suitcase back in the room across from mine. Then he came out and smiled at me less teasingly and with an air of shyness.

“Thank you for hosting me again. I will try to bother you for as little time as possible.”

He scratched the back of his neck, and I was touched to see how vulnerable he looked then.

“You can stay as long as you need. You are not bothering me. In fact, today it's your turn to cook.”

I smiled mischievously, expecting protest against the new rule that I had just invented that would end up leading me to cook, or what is the same, to call a food delivery restaurant; but instead, he shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

Then he rolled up his sleeves and smiled a wide, proud grin at me.

“Ya have an apron? Tonight, you gonna lick your fingers.”

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Fourteen: Friends

A/N: This is the fourteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2779

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

To the other professors, breakfast came and went just as it did every other day. But Aria could sense the difference in tone from the students. To the other professors the students chatter was just as excitable as it always was. But Aria could tell it was more hushed and secretive. To the other professors, today was just a normal day, they would have gone about their day blissfully unaware of the situation that had occurred at the Three Broomsticks. Had it not been for the huge elephant in the room.

As he entered the hall that morning for breakfast not a soul in the room missed the swollen black and blue lump in place of where Snape's eye should be. Not a soul in the room missed the way he stormed in, in a fit of rage, knowing that the whole school would be talking about him. And not a soul missed the glares he sent their way daring them to confront him on the matter. But only Aria Dumbledore could see the hurt in his eyes, the embarrassment he was feeling and the pain he buried deep down for the way he had treated his friend last night.

Of course, she was angry at him. All of this was his fault. But the sadness she felt for him overcame her own dignity and she wanted to find out what it was all for. What hurt him so badly, that he felt the need to make her feel as low as he did. Aria knew this was yet another mystery of the great Severus Snape which would remain unanswered. The man was an enigma.

*

As expected, the potions master and his apprentice were curtly invited to Headmaster Dumbledore's office after breakfast to explain themselves. It had not taken long for the rumours to spread from the students all the way to the top, and it was clear Aria's grandfather was less than pleased to hear them.

"You will both be well aware of why I called you here this morning, I am sure." Dumbledore begun when the pair entered the Headmasters office. The two merely nodded, letting the old wizard speak.

"Firstly, I must begin by saying how utterly disappointed I am in the two of you. Not only in the events that transpired last night, but moreover the fact that neither of you were professional enough to come to speak to me about this first, before it got out of hand." The headmaster started, taking a seat behind his large oak desk.

Both Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape bowed their heads in shame, as they stood side by side awkwardly, neither of them daring to look at the other.

"Grandfather I-"

"Miss Dumbledore, in this current professional capacity, I would appreciate if you addressed me as your rightful superior."

"I'm sorry." She replied sheepishly. "Headmaster Dumbledore, I want to apologise for not informing you of what had happened at the Three Broomsticks but as you can see Sever-, Professor Snape did have some injuries that needing tending to and in the state that he was, I didn't think him fit enough to be left unattended to."

As she spoke Severus let out a grunt of disagreement in an attempt to mask his embarrassment.

"Whether that may be the case, Miss Dumbledore, if you are being harassed by another member of staff, your priority should be to inform me, not assist your harasser." Albus scorned.

Snape remained silent, waiting to be spoken too before opening his mouth. He was mortified by his actions in the Three Broomsticks, but even more so by what happened later that night.

"Now, which one of you would like to explain to me what happened, so I can distinguish the truth from some of the student's wild imaginations."

Aria turned her attention to the Potions master who continued to keep his head down, not willing to recall his cruel words.

"I think Professor Snape is best for that job, headmaster." Aria confessed, unwilling to let the man get off so easily.

"Very well. Aria, you may leave us." Dumbledore announced.

"What? But why?" She objected.

"As you so graciously volunteered Severus for the job, I no longer have a reason to keep you back from your duties as a professor." Dumbledore informed her calmly. "Speaking of which, you will be taking all of the potions classes alone for the time being. Professor Snape will be taking a short sabbatical."

Snape's face turned grey at the thought. Not only did he not want this young witch teaching his students, but the mention of a sabbatical made his stomach drop. He knew how he had acted was wrong, but never had it crossed his mind that he could possibly lose his job for what he had done.

"What!?" Aria gasped. "But you can't do that, he-"

"Relax, Aria dear." Dumbledore interrupted. "It is only until I get this business cleared up. With his eye looking as it does the excitement will never settle, you know how students like to gossip. Besides he can take some time to reflect on his actions while it heals." Dumbledore shot Snape a disapproving look.

Aria made to object once again, but this time Severus took the opportunity to shut her up.

"Go, Miss Dumbledore. Do not keep my students waiting." He commanded sourly.

Finally, Aria obeyed, leaving with an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach as she left the two men to talk.

Dumbledore clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and waited patiently for Severus to confess his wrong doings.

"I will not insult you, headmaster, by downplaying my actions from last night. I stupidly let my emotions get the better of me and I thought I could find a solution at the bottom of a bottle of Fire Whiskey, I was wrong. I said disgusting things to your granddaughter and believe me no one can judge me more than I am judging myself right now." Snape could not bring himself to meet the old wizards disappointed gaze.

"And your eye, how did that situation occur." Albus questioned, feeling slightly sorry for the professor, despite the trouble he has caused.

"It was well deserved." Snape admitted. "A 'friend' of your granddaughter's rightfully put a stop to my embarrassing display. I apologise whole heartedly for every mistake I made last night."

"That is all very good and well, Severus. But have you said this to her?"

Severus hung his head.

"I see. May I suggest that be your first port of call." Albus advised.

"Of course."

The Professors sat in dead silence. It was clear both of them were in their own heads more than the conversation.

"Is there something more I should know, Severus?" Dumbledore eyed the man skeptically.

Severus paused for a moment, debating whether to confide in his friend.

"No, sir." He lied. His voice remained void of all emotion.

"Aria could be a great friend to you, Severus. Do not throw that chance away, again. Learn from your past mistakes." The Headmaster warned.

Albus Dumbledore's words resonated with Severus all day. The old man was right. He had once lost his only friend due to a small moment of emotional vulnerability paired with the harshness of his words, he could not re-live that experience. There was only one way to avoid losing Aria from his life completely, any feelings he may have had for her now had to be buried entirely.

*

Storming into her first lesson of the day, the room fell silent upon Aria's entry. The students waited a minute or two, expecting the presence of their most feared professor, which never came.

Aria begun the lessons as Severus always did; silently writing out paragraphs of information for the students to copy. It didn't take long for the fifth years to realise Snape would not be joining them this morning and so they set about asking their more relaxed potions professor all of the questions they were just dying to know the answers to, regarding the events of the previous night.

"Professor Dumbledore, where's Professor Snape, isn't he going to teach us?" It began.

"Unfortunately, today I will be solely be teaching Professor Snape's classes." Aria answered, turning her back on the classroom of students and continued to scribble on the chalk board.

"I heard he shouted at you in front of everyone in the Three Broomsticks yesterday Miss, is that true?" One of the Ravenclaw girls dared to ask.

"You should have seen him." Another laughed. "He was absolutely wrecked, knocked back almost a full bottle of Fire Whiskey apparently."

Aria chose not to respond.

"You were there? What did he say?" A curious Gryffindor inquired, wanting to hear the full story for himself. The two started quietly conversing up the back of the class, letting some more students get their accusations in.

"Is it true you are Karkaroff were caught going at it in the potions cupboard, Miss." Another boy bravely chuckled. "Is that where Snape found you?"

"That's can't be true." Someone else defended, shaking their head in disbelief.

"It is so, didn't you see the two of them at dinner yesterday? He could barely keep his hands off of her." Another whispered.

A few gasps and giggles broke out among the students as they continued to speculate.

"I heard she's the one who punched Snape, did you see his eye today?

"To be fair I don't blame her, he is a bit of a wanker, he probably deserved it."

"Don't be so stupid. It wasn't her; it was her boyfriend, I saw it myself."

"Did Snape actually call you a Slut, Miss?"

The room went quiet anticipating their teacher's response.

"Enough!" She yelled, slamming her hand on the desk as she turned to face them. The class stared at her, stunned.

"I don't want to hear any more of this." She started, putting down her chalk. "I am well aware that some of you may have witnessed the incident that occurred in the Three Broomsticks last night and while Professor Snape's little outburst may have happened extremely publicly, this gives none of you the right to make things worse by making up these stupid stories. I am going to settle this once and for all and I want to hear no more of it, do you understand?" The class nodded silently.

"First off; no, Professor Snape has not been fired, nor would I want him to be. He will resume his position as your potion's professor in a few days' time, and I warn all of you that this nonsense better be done with by then. He will not let you off as lightly as I have done." Aria walked around her desk, resting on the edge as she spoke.

"Secondly, any rumours you have heard regarding me and Headmaster Karkaroff are completely false. Professor Snape got the wrong impression and has now been informed of his mistake. In addition to this, anything you may have heard surrounding me and any other member of staff, or indeed students..." She said through gritted teeth. "... is also false. This includes Professor Snape."

A moment of chatter bubbled among the students, before once again falling silent.

"As for the man I was with, he was nothing more than a friend. And after the way he treated Professor Snape, he is no longer even that. Violence in any form will not be tolerated, no matter the circumstances. I will personally deal with any student supporting the actions of this man or the harming of Professor Snape, regardless of anything he may or may not have said." Aria finished.

"Is all of this abundantly clear?" She asked the class, receiving a chorus of agreement in response.

Aria let the students know to spread this information throughout the school to combat the rumours surrounding her and Severus Snape's altercation, and they graciously obliged. She received very little harassment or questions for the rest of the day, although she knew it was almost impossible to put an end to all of the speculations this early on.

*

Whilst packing up her papers to return to her quarters for an early night, Aria was startled by a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in." She called, not bothering to stop what she was doing. It wasn't until he was standing right in front of her did Aria even recognise who it was. "Severus." The professor said in shock. "Knocking to get into your own class room now?"

"As it were, this appears to be your classroom for the time being, Miss Dumbledore." He droned, watching her intently as she went about her business.

"For a few days at least, it seems." She shrugged. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I came for an update on my classes' progression. While I might not be teaching them, this does not mean I am willing to relinquish all of my responsibilities quite yet. I don't imagine you have anything prepared." He sneered, continuing to analyse the desk.

"Actually, Professor Snape, I have." She retorted, handing him a small binder. "There you will find every class organised by year and then by level of difficulty; I have written a small summary of what we covered in the classes and how far we hope to progress. All students are listed individually and sorted by house, each detailing how well they coped with the lesson and what they need to work on. I shall give you another update tomorrow, and each day after until you are back. Happy?" She smirked.

"Very impressive." He hummed, unamused, snatching the binder from her and making to leave.

As Snape reached the exit, one hand holding the door ajar, he let his fingers tap on the wood indecisively. Letting out a small huff of breath Severus turned on his heel, re-entering the classroom as he remembered his promise to the headmaster.

"There is one more thing, Miss Dumbledore." The potions master announced, bringing her back to his attention.

"Mmhmm." Aria hummed, continued to flick through her papers, making sure she had what she needed.

"If you could actually pay attention, Miss Dumbledore, I would be able to get out of your hair much faster." Severus hissed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"What do you want, Severus." His apprentice huffed. "I do have things to be getting on with. Spit it out."

Snape clenched his jaw and pursed his lips, trying his damn best not to insult the girl.

Couldn't she just listen for five seconds when he was actually trying to be nice to her? He thought.

"I... I want you to know." Snape stuttered, coughing to clear his throat. "I need you to know. Everything I said last night, I didn't mean any of it. I was drunk, and sometimes emotions that we would all like to keep hidden show themselves, do you understand?"

"I get it, Severus. I know you wouldn't have said those things under normal circumstances. You were stressed." Aria accepted, immediately going back to her piles of parchment.

"Look at me." Snape snapped. "You do not understand. I am apologising for my actions in the Three Broomsticks, of course I am. But the point I would most like to stress is... Can we just forget yesterday never happened? All of it."

Aria stared deep into the Professor's eyes knowing he was desperate for her attention. Ignoring the fact he was battered and bruised, she could see the pain in his eyes. The desperateness for her to agree with him, to forget that anything ever happened between them, or rather could have happened.

"Don't worry about it, Severus. Nothing happened as far as I am concerned." She reached out to him, resting a hand on his bicep and flashing a comforting smile.

A hint of a smile threatened on Severus' lips. But as soon as it came it was gone once again. Snape stepped away from the woman, letting her get on with her work.

"Can we agree on one thing, Severus?" Aria asked, keeping her attention on him finally. Snape nodded, allowing her to continue. "The students are having a field day with all of this. I think it would be in everyone's interest for us to try and get along. Hopefully it will dull down a lot of the rumours if they see us acting civil. What do you think? Friends?" She proposed.

Snape let out a small huff of amusement, letting the sides of his lips curl up, contently.

"Friends." He agreed, stepping out of the room quietly.

Taglist: 

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

[savrenim]

hi hi hi. so I just got into the Hamilton fandom, I swear I am four years late where did everybody go, and, well. I am apparently a hamburr shipper. bcs that is my life now. anyway I saw your fic ifmlam and I swear it is my favourite of all the fics I've ever read (and trust me I've read literally thousands). I love it so so much, how do you write fics like that??? I cried about four times during the whole thing, I stayed up till 4am reading it even when I had to wake up at 7 because it is just. that. good. I could not stop thinking about it for days afterwards and ifmlam has just ruined me. I can't think of listen to Hamilton without thinking of ifmlam anymore.

on to my qursttion: is it abandoned? of course it's perfectly FINE if it is. don't let anyone tell u differently, your fic is YOURS and u are amazing.

but pls I really need closure from ur fic, it has been haunting me if its abandoned or ongoing and I've read ur other fics and they are just chefskiss and thank you so much for writing them all. thank you thank you thank you, I will never be able to thank you enough for writing this fic and for everything it's done for me. I am probably thousands of miles away but I am sending you virtual jugs through a co.puter screen right now.

(don't feel pressured to reply to this or update it flam, I know how overwhelming it can get with so many messages and after a while u get desensitized to it. u can literally reply "thx. itfmlam is abandoned" and I would still be amazingly star struck. anyway has gotten way too long and I need to sleep and I'm sorry u probably won't see this so I'm just talking to myself right now but bye!!)

and thank you so so much for writing itfmlam.

aaaah hello anon!

thank you so so much???? I am so??? honored??? that ifmlam rates so highly to you, and also that you've read my other fics??????

the answer to the "is ifmlam abandoned" question is probably the worst possible one, which is pretty much "I do want to finish it, both for the folks that still want closure as well as it bothers to me have abandoned projects that are in the public eye/ already partially published, but also, it is last on my current writing projects list"

my current actually active writing projects list, kind of in order of priority, is

I'm literally three chapters away from being Actually Fully Done with the not-quite-first-not-quite-second let's call it 1.5th draft of an actual?? full?? original?? novel?? Opus which of course then goes out to beta readers and then gets who-knows-how-much edited and then maybe beta readers again if a lot does change and then a copyeditor my mom, my copyeditor is my mom, and maybe my little brother he's one of the betas but is very good at catching typos and then I!!! get to publish it!!!! which is the single thing I am most excited for!!!!!!!!! this should be closed up in the next week or two, and then take a while for people to actually read the draft and get back to me.

I really desperately want to finish my open-but-like-90%-written fic, which means we raise it up, the final chapter of to the bottom of the river bc I realized that it was kind of incomplete, and the second chapter of a buried and a burning flame because any more work there will need to wait until the author publishes the next book in the series. this should be closed up in the next month or two.

Speedwrite the draft of the second book of the Opus series so that hopefully by the time book 1 edits are happening, I have an almost complete draft of the second book. this is mostly me side-eyeing myself about taking nearly four years to write the first book, but that is solidly in part because I had so many other open projects which point 2 is about clearing that docket. this should be done in the next year.

And then just have my major projects be, at least until books 1-5 are written and published, books 1-5 of that because that is arguably the first major 'plot arc' of the series, so if I'm looking for a pause point on writing, that's probably where to stop.

There are two or three other short side projects (a weird fun second person short story tentatively titled witch-queen, a collection of four short stories Memoirs about a not-so-evil necromancer and the shenanigans he gets up to trying to rule a kingdom, working title Perfectly Normal Recipe Blog which is a collaborative project about a perfectly normal recipe blog that definitely doesn't include anything out of the normal) that will happen when they happen

There are other projects that are on the backburner -- The Numanok Files, a series of probably 12-15 short novellas about a mercenary/ bounty hunter esque person in space whose specialty is dealing with hauntings, but, like, 80% of their jobs is actually "you are effectively a space home inspector pointing out faulty wiring reacting to solar flares/ there's a weird alien fungus/ it's carbon monoxide okay change your atmosphere filters" and 20% of it is punching ghosts; there's a post-post apocalypse novel that I want to write that I know characters and general pacing and half the setting but need to work out the other half and figure out how much aesthetic I want to commit to; there's Strangeside7 aka spacerace book that is my reaction to how much I love how Redline the anime movie commits itself to "no we are about a race, like 60% of the screentime is just fully going to be an utterly ridiculous sci fi space race"; there's even a ridiculous YA trilogy that I would have to completely transplant the setting but might end up writing because the interplay between angel-physics and physics-physics was one of my favorite things in the world. and I guess the weird ridiculous technically a sequel series to ifmlam that was going to be published as original books that was basically me having fun with 'okay I fucking love star wars prequels old rotting space bureaucracy galactic republic style' except with seers and that also still might happen because it does have some of the coolest sci fi concepts and honestly I thiiiink that's all?

but the tl;dr of that timeline is I'm trying to finish a punch of projects Right Now, so that I can write books 2-5 of Opus, and then when I'm done that (which honestly, my average fiction-writing output is close to 100k a year. if I'm concentrating purely on one project, and writing books that are about 100k, we are talking four years. although my job situation is super up in the air in that period and writing might get put solidly on the backburner as I try to make it in academia, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I will re-evaluate which projects go next, and that's when ifmlam is likely to come up for review.

I do not have any expectations that I will make it as an original author. I'm planning on posting all of my stuff online for free, but, like. it is incredibly difficult to convince people to try out even a piece of free and easily accessibly original work even if one has a huge following, I am a very small fanfiction author, and from what I can tell the majority of the people who are interested in my work are mostly interested in me finishing ifmlam. writing is a hobby for me, and while I'm writing mostly for me--and hence the for me bit at least for the next five years is pretty solidly going to be this series that I am deeply excited about and have sunk my heart and soul into every single aspect of--I'm human, and I don't really like shouting into the void, and I expect if I spend five years publishing to absolutely no response I will either stop writing for a while and do other things gods know my life is busy enough, return to fandom in general to write some other fanfic about whatever I get deeply into, or return to a work that I actually get response to. so ifmlam will probably start getting worked on a bit at that point one way or another. unless, of course, we are in the incredibly rare timeline in which I do make it as an original author, there are people who are deeply hyped for my original works and an actual demand for them, in which case as you may have noticed there are enough ideas there to keep me busy for a decade or two, and they will just get my full attention instead of fanfiction*. in this timeline, I will do what I was considering doing a few years ago, which is officially declare ifmlam otherwise abandoned and make one more giant chapter update which is a full and cleaned up outline of what I was going to write, interspersed with the scenes already written, and have ifmlam be given at least that closure.

*I want to make it clear that I very much love fanfiction and am proud to have been a fanfiction author and in my heart of hearts would keep writing it forever, I just also have a lot of ideas for characters and settings and magic systems and Aesthetics and I have been biting at the bit to write something that is //mine// and all mine and only mine for a while, I don't see original work as superior so much as there are a dozen fandoms that I am currently in and bursting to make content about except oops these fandoms currently only exist in my head, and I want to correct that

of course given how much as writing is my vent activity and I write what I'm in the mood for, there's a chance I'll feel ifmlam cravings before then, just... expect it to take a couple of years for an update, but also for there to be an update one way of another in a couple of years? but as for right now, I'm turning to original writing, because that is what brings me joy.

but I am really deeply honored that it brought you so much joy!!! and while I will never publish spoilers in a public place, if you message me off anon I am perfectly happy to give a run-down of my current plans for the ending, bc I know "wait a couple years and see" is not the most satisfactory of answers! and hey maybe you'll be like me and once you've given Opus a try you'll decide you like it better too, it does have Seers although they are deeply different Seers than in ifmlam but imo it's very gay and fun and at least politics on one side

[annaofthenorthernlights]

The beach case

fanfic frozen modern AU

collaborated writing project with @hiptoff

Find the fic on AO3

Chapter 3 / 26

by @hiptoff

“Anna, do you have a minute?”

That impressive blond poked his head through the office door, where we were all getting ready to leave work at the end of the day, drawing the gazes of everyone present on me.

“Uh… sure.”

I went out into the hall feeling how some looks vilely stabbed me in the back and I found his expression of indifference making it obvious how alien he was to the effect he caused on others.

“Are you done?” he asked quite naturally.

“Yes, I was already getting ready to go home, why?”

“Are you sure you are okay with me going with you?”

For goodness’ sake, yes! See him in the morning and before bed? Seeing a Kristoff that none of the women who are mentally hanging me right now can see? How could I not want to?! And, on the other hand, no! If they found out, hanging me would no longer just be in their imagination... And besides, he was my boss! How correct was that? Although he didn't seem to give it the slightest importance, it wasn't clear to me that it was allowed.

“Anna?” he asked at my, probably too long, silence.

“Sure! No problem!”

He frowned slightly as he clearly doubted the veracity of my words.

“Okay. If you say so…” he said shrugging. “Then, go ahead if you want, I know the way. I'm going to the locker to get my suitcase and see you later at your house, okay?”

“Gosh, Kristoff!!”

Was he crazy?! I didn't think twice, I hooked his arm, dragged him to the elevator where I made him enter, and pressed the button for the highest floor to give us time to talk with some privacy.

“Where is the corpse?” he asked with a sexy smirk as soon as the elevator closed.

There was no other possible way to answer, I gave him a flick on the upper arm to which he responded by rubbing himself energetically while laughing out loud. Shit, that was not the time to get hooked on his laughter, but there was something about it that made me unable to stop staring at how his Adam's apple moved with each expulsion of air.

‘Anna, focus! Take care of your job and your skin.’

“Hey, it is perfectly fine with me that you're coming: I don't want any more surprises on the beach; but you can't go around spreading it, okay?”

“What's the problem with it?”

“They’re going to kill me!”

“What?! Who?! Why does everything have to do with deaths with you?!”

The unexpected and high-pitched crack of voice that left his throat took me completely by surprise. His voice was usually warm and soft. However, he seemed to lack control over his highs. I had to hold back a little cackle. I didn't want to make him feel ridiculous. Deep down, I also liked those cute cracks. Wait, were we that close to each other just a few seconds ago?

‘Seriously, Anna, focus.’

“Don't you realize how the girls (and most of the boys) in the magazine look at you? You drive everyone crazy! If they find out that we are sharing a flat, they won't let me out of it so easily.”

“I think you are imagining things.”

“It's not my imagination! I could feel their evil aura emanating from their bodies when you called me!”

He laughed clearly amused by what he believed to be my ravings and shook his head.

“So, what? Assuming what you're saying wasn't utterly crazy…”

“Hey!”

“What do you think I should do? To live hiding so as not to bother others?”

“Err…”

Okay, I had no answer for that.

“If there was something more than companionship between you and me,” he added without removing his gaze from mine and making me shudder ridiculously. “I don't think anyone had anything to say about it. It would be our lives and our decision. Don't you think?”

I focused on breathing with absolute normality, as if everything that he had raised with absolute indifference hadn't put my heart in the open of my throat, and I answered as relaxed as possible.

“You're right. Your life is yours and the fact that our relationship meant my last hours of life shouldn't stop you.”

He laughed again, even more widely than before.

“Buuuut,” I pointed out interrupting that shocking laugh that made my body vibrate and made me aware again of how close of me his breath was in that small and closed space. “I'm not sure that Yelena's opinion was not important either. I don't know if there are any regulations regarding the extra-labor relationships of the company's workers, but I bet she wouldn't like knowing that the new boss lives in my house. I don't want them to think that there is favoritism, you know?”

“Hm… You're right. I'll ask Sam about the regulations in force.”

“Sam?”

The elevator stopped and the door opened to close immediately afterward when he leaned over me and pressed the button for our floor to direct us back down. During the second that his neck extended a few inches from my nose, my mind clouded and I could only feel the soft scent that his skin gave off. That wasn't cologne: it was him.

“Samantha, from Human Resources, “he said answering the question that I had almost forgotten that I had just asked. “She’s the friend who got me the interview.”

“Samantha? It sounds like I have heard of her, but I don't think I’ve met her.”

“She doesn't show her face up a lot; she’s a very busy schedule.”

‘Samantha, huh?’

My heart dropped from my throat straight to the pit of my stomach. Couldn't it just be placed in its place at once?

“And how are you supposed to ask her without making her suspect anything?”

“I am a single man and there are a lot of people here. It wouldn't be so strange if I met someone that I was interested in. I will tell her that I am making sure how far I can go if the opportunity arises.”

‘Single? Good to know. Wait, it is?’

“And… what if it wasn't allowed?”

“Well, I would go back to sleep on the beach until I found another place. I don't want to put your job at risk.”

After a few seconds of silence, which we both spent looking at the screen with the floor indicator number descending one by one, the elevator began to brake again and, seeing that time was running out, I plucked up my courage and made him the question that kept haunting my head.

“And… what if you fall in love with someone?”

The door opened and Kristoff calmly stepped out of it, stopped, turned to me, and smirked.

“In that case, I should assess what is most important to me and go for it with all my might.”

I swallowed hard as his eyes approached me smiling accompanied by the rest of his body entering the elevator again. He leaned toward me slightly and whispered in my ear.

“See you later.”

Then, he pressed the button for the highest floor again and left the elevator quickly without giving me time to react before the door closed again and took me on a journey up once more.

“Kristoff!!!!”

I could hear his laugh moving away from me, or, rather, me from it, and I sat on the floor needing to collect my ideas and calm my emotions.

‘What’s going on with me?!’

Two long elevator rides and a fifteen-minute walk later, I arrived at the door of my block where my impossible boss was waiting sitting on his suitcase.

“If you hadn't done such a silliness, you wouldn't have had to wait on the street.”

“But that way it's been much more discreet, don't you think?”

I shook my head at how childish that big guy could seem and opened the door, making him walk in. He diligently followed me home and put his suitcase back in the room across from mine. Then he came out and smiled at me less teasingly and with an air of shyness.

“Thank you for hosting me again. I will try to bother you for as little time as possible.”

He scratched the back of his neck, and I was touched to see how vulnerable he looked then.

“You can stay as long as you need. You are not bothering me. In fact, today it's your turn to cook.”

I smiled mischievously, expecting protest against the new rule that I had just invented that would end up leading me to cook, or what is the same, to call a food delivery restaurant; but instead, he shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

Then he rolled up his sleeves and smiled a wide, proud grin at me.

“Ya have an apron? Tonight, you gonna lick your fingers.”

Next chapter will be posted tomorrow night... :)

[whifferdills]

Whifferdills, have you yet done a Twelvedole in which Twelve can't avoid doing some maintenance on Nardole anymore? (If you think that has ever happened, that is.)

i have not, and it has happened, and it’s so tasty thanks for this prompt

Twelve/Nardole, Teen-rated for Tentative Touches, frustrated yearning, ~1.5k words

Everything was very much fine. Nardole’s body was rapidly dissolving into its component parts, but it was fine. He couldn’t walk great, and he fell down a bunch, but it was okay. Deal-with-able.

“You’re fucked,” the Doctor said. Sunglasses on, guitar slung around their waist. “You need seeing to. You need - knock ‘em down for me.”

“I need a doctor,” Nardole said dutifully.

“And the Doctor - ” The Doctor played a riff and let the feedback squawk. “Is in.”

Har har. “No. Not you.” He felt the rush of that statement building an angry blush up his neck.

The feedback petered out awkwardly. The Doctor flipped their sunglasses up, blinking at him. “Sorry?

Nardole with his Big Boy hat on, his Standing Up For Himself accessories. “It’s just that…”

“Spit it out.” The Doctor ditched their guitar entirely and pushed their sunglasses up further up into the broad nest of their hair.

“You were a bit rough, sir.” Bold move, Cotton.

The Doctor’s face scrunched up, in a ‘flipping through the mental Rolodex of ways they might have messed up’ sort of way. “Did I forget to turn off your sensors?”

“No, that’s not - it’s more the principle of the thing. Sir. Which is to say, uh. I mean, you - ”

“Have a terrible bedside manner,” they said, pleased at having solved the word puzzle. Sunglasses off and tucked carefully into their pocket.

Nardole nodded fervently. Not the right answer, but an answer, and an out. “The worst.”

“And here I thought I was providing a needed service. Fair enough.” For all they utterly, gleefully failed at nuanced social interaction, they did bristle quite a lot at having that pointed out.

Which is to say: the pout and storm-cloud eyebrows were out in full force. Nardole stood his ground. “I’d like a second opinion,” he said politely.

The Doctor drifted away, stepping behind their desk. “You do realize this leaves you in something of a conundrum,” they said, sitting down and kicking their legs up onto the cushioning pile of unread essays.

Right. That part. “No one on Earth this year can fix a cyborg.”

“Few in all of time and space are qualified to maintain your, uh.”

Nonsense. Complete fuckery. Cack-handed DIY repair job. The sentient version of the car from that one Johnny Cash song.

“Unique attributes,” the Doctor finished weakly. “So not only would we need to abandon the Vault, and our Oath, we would need to go gallivanting off in search of someone with all of my knowledge but who also, most importantly, is kind, gentle, and reassuring in a way I evidently am not.” ‘Gallivanting off’ accompanied by hand gestures sketching out how’d they go, just go, movement on the syllable.

That was a hell of a sentence to unpack; Nardole did his best. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“I’m using your own logic and tediously frequent guilt trip against you. Huge difference.” The Doctor leaned dangerously far back in their chair, clearly very pleased with themself.

Nardole’s right leg took this opportunity to release a series of washers and bolts that rolled away from him with a cavalier, defiant air. “Touche.”

“So make a choice,” the Doctor said. They swung awkwardly forward, front legs of the chair slamming back down on the ground. “Both choices are bad. You still have to choose.”

Nardole again regretted, for the millionth time, the very long chain of bad decisions that had brought him to this point.

He couldn’t leave the vault. He certainly wouldn’t ask the Doctor to leave the vault. So: they stayed here. Also: this was happening.

Where would be best? the Doctor had asked. Here was fine, he supposed, in the office. The Doctor grumbled and disappeared into the TARDIS for an hour, reappearing with a box filled with truly terrifying implements and two packets of prawn-flavored crisps and a large, unwieldy, unsettlingly-shaped pillow.

Would you like to listen to music, or perhaps watch a film? the Doctor had asked. Maybe some jazz, yeah, sure. Mingus Ah Um on the record player, the needle dropped. Nardole laid down on the sofa and tried to figure out how he was supposed to fit around the pillow, and whether he was getting it wrong or if he was just the wrong shape.

Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable or unpleasant or wrong, the Doctor said.

“The fact that you’re trying so hard is almost making it worse,” Nardole replied, snapping back into the here-and-now.

The Doctor looked up from behind their desk, still rearranging their torture devices/DIY carpentry tools into some inexplicable order. “What is it that you want from me, Nardole.”

Oh, what a loaded question. Said in an altogether too husky voice. Nardole swallowed hard and clutched at the pillow. “Just get it over with.”

“Goodbye Pork Pie Hat” started playing. The Doctor approached, hands empty. Nardole thought about, what if: a black hole came by somehow and swallowed him up.

“Okay,” the Doctor said softly. “Yeah. Right. I’m gonna - you’ll need less trousers for this.”

Nardole waved at his panic from a safe distance and screwed his eyes shut and shimmied out of his trousers, or at least as far out he could considering he still had his shoes on. This was incredibly undignified. This was - other things, also, maybe.

“All sensors off? Or just pain receptors.”

‘All’ would be the sensible choice, the ‘this is just a normal routine thing and not anything weird’ response. So he squirmed and stammered out ‘Just the, uh. Just the - the p-. The pain. Thanks.“ He listened to the sonic screwdriver whirr. “Boogie Stop Shuffle” started playing. All these bad decisions in a row.

The Doctor’s hand light on his thigh, squeezing slightly. They retreated, came back with a rattling, half-dropped handful of Things. Nardole clenched harder at the pillow. “Self-Portrait in Three Colors”, now. (This had been one of his favorite human musical works, and now it was ruined.)

“Okay?” the Doctor asked, while doing something unthinkable with the skin-bits and the padding and then the inner workings of Nardole.

Next track. “Turn it off, please. Sir.”

A break, a pause, where Nardole refused to relax in favor of sweating profusely, and the needle scratched off the record. So. Silence, now. Just his own poorly-regulated breathing and the rustle of the Doctor returning.

“This is the worst possible time to ask this, which I’ve found generally is the best time to get an honest answer. Was it really just my brusqueness that bothered you?”

“As opposed to what,” Nardole ground out. The Doctor was fairly deep inside him now, tugging out wires and soldering them back.

“I’m dumb, I’m not that dumb. I’ve seen how you look at me.”

“Like what,” Nardole said. Mindless repetition was the best-case scenario here.

The Doctor gently but firmly tugged something home. “Don’t make me say it,” they replied.

Like it was something shameful and wrong, something barely thinkable, embarrassing. Funny old Nardole with a funny old crush, ha ha. Inappropriate reactions to any intimacy after half a century as a celibate cyborg, ha ha ha ha. He curled harder around the pillow.

“Just tying you back up now,” the Doctor said flatly. Which they did, presumably, going by the noises and the odd tugging feelings.

And then it was done. And their hand was still on his thigh.

“Not so bad, was it now,” the Doctor said. Squeezing gently.

Nardole thought about what if: he could ascend to the astral plane and leave this universe entirely. “No,” he squeaked.

The Doctor’s hand slid up a fraction of an inch, towards where Nardole was plainly and unfortunately clad in a well-worn pair of pants. “I’ve been here before. And I can - if you want. D'you want?”

Well, yes, but.

“No,” Nardole squeaked again, more firmly this time. Yes, but no. Not like this. It’s complicated.

The Doctor withdrew their hand, and then the rest of themself. They spun the record and set the needle back down, in the middle of “Fables of Faubus”. Put all the bits back in the box, and opened the two bags of crisps; they handed one to Nardole, and poured theirs down their throat. “Just let me know,” they said, mouth full and spewing crumbs.

Nardole detached himself from the pillow, pulled himself to standing. Things seemed okay, down there. The relevant things. The standing-up things. “Thanks,” he said.

“Seriously, though. If you want, yanno. I’m not - ”

“Please stop there,” Nardole snapped. He tugged his trousers back on, once again cursing the general lack of foresight in re: his android body and both it not quite fitting his clothing and, considering all of time and space, his clothing not quite fitting his android body. If he had to be half a robot, surely the upshot should be not having to suck in to get his trousers buttoned.

“But thanks,” he amended. Coulda been worse. Coulda been better, but coulda been worse.

The Doctor wriggled their eyebrows in an unfortunately suggestive fashion. Nardole sighed, testing out his newly-functional limb. No screws loose. “Pussy Cat Dues”, now. He grinned convincingly to the no one looking as the Doctor packed up their tools and crisp wrappers and the baffling pillow-thing into the box.

And the Doctor left, back into the TARDIS, with a loaded glance and silent for once. Like what and where and how?

A whole raft of bad decisions; up to him, apparently, to choose which if any. He followed the Doctor into the TARDIS.

[kingsofchaos]

So i had an Idea but I can't think of anything past the concept (+ yr writing for this kinda thing is like 200% better than mine) but what if the Lads founded the Fake AH crew and recruited the gents?

Oohthat’s fun – i’ve seen versions where they were two little gangswho combined into the FAHC but the idea of the actual Fake’s startingas the Lads is definitely interesting.Therewere a lot of names tossed around at the start; it’s the part offorming a crew no one really talks about, the vaguely embarrassingperiod of building an image, choosing a name, defining yourselves.Like band names there is a lot of bad before the good. Like bandnames ‘good’ is wildly subjective, particularly when determined by apack of teenage boys. The humour behind ‘Fake Crew’ isn’tparticularly high brow and not a single soul outside the originalfour Lads, including and especially their future members, have anyidea at all what the AH could possibly stand for. Most think itsmysterious, assume something clever or at least meaningful, but theshifty looks the boys shoot each other when pressed tell a differentstory.Still,they’ve made something of a name for themselves in Los Santos – theFAHC, who pull off unbelievable stunts, who lack any semblance ofrespect, dangerous in the way of feral animals, of wildfire. In thefoolhardy way of children, who care far more about making sure youhurt than they do about protecting themselves. It’s enough to keepother gangs wary, to buy themselves a little breathing room withreckless gestures and bared teeth, but not exactly the glory they arelooking for. Not quite the trembling respect they’ve dreamed of.Forthat, it seems, they’re going to have to think bigger, smarter. Beclever not just in the tricks they play and jobs they pull but in theway they twist their image, they way they recruit, build their crew.Just being more won’t do it, added thugs for the sake of numbers; itwould take an astonishing amount to really match the size of some oftheir rivals and the Lads don’t exactly play nice with strangers. No,they have to be strategic, have to select a few choice additions whocan help them rise, and after much discussion they settle on threenames they’d like to pull in; Ramsey, Patillo and the Vagabond. Loftygoals to be sure, but then, delusions of grandeur or not, the Fake’shave always considered themselves to be rather magnificent.Everyonewho’s anyone knows about the Vagabond; none of them will admit it(Ray will admit it, Ray doesn’t give a fuck) but the Lads all havehearts in their eyes every time the Vagabond slinks around, allfollow every rumour, gossip over every job. Something between heroworship and healthy respect, without any of the fear normalself-respecting individuals feel, is the perfect cocktail to have thefour of them plotting outlandish ways to pull in the mercenary.Patillo has an incredibly solid reputation for someone with no realties, invariably thought to be smart, dependable, one of the bestdrivers in the country and definitely not a woman to be trifled with.That she and Ramsey seem to have some kind of relationship, workedtogether back in the day and while going their separate ways don’tappear to have had any kind of blow up, will hopefully work in theLads favour. Last, but certainly not least, there’s Geoff Ramsey; therouge Rooster who’s been traversing the country, constantly on themove and pulling all kinds of jobs from hilariously wacky to darklyperverse. Maybe the Lads are looking a bit outside their paid gradebut with Ramsey reportedly looking to build his own crew they can’tnot try, not after realising that their crew is unfortunately in needof a proper leader.Becausenone of the Lads are leaders, not really, especially not back then.They aren’t incapable, are clearly wildly talented and loyal enoughto one another to defer a certain kind of leadership to whomever hasthe best idea or the most experience with whatever task they’refacing, but no one individual is capable of being the permanent boss.No one individual actually wants that role, not really, they’re alltoo young, too impulsive, too eager to abandon necessary goals at thedrop of a hat.  Ray,who has arguably the least interest in being the boss of all, is lessleader than lone wolf; when he’s taking point a lot of his orderstend to involve stealth, hanging back while he picks off targets,only charging in when long-distance is no longer an option. Necessaryfor particular jobs, and it’s certainly not an easy task keeping theother three in line until it’s their turn to burst into action, butit’s not a method that works for every task.Michaelmakes a magnificent leader, fierce and fearless and unwaveringlyloyal, protective of his crew until the bitter end. He is,unfortunately, utterly devoid of tact, of the patience to put up withany kind of shenanigans from anyone he doesn’t personally like, theability to create and maintain necessary relations with anyoneoutside his crew. Michael himself knows he makes a far betterLieutenant, busy with duties he actually cares about, walking theline between following orders with absolute obedience andunapologetically calling out anything he disagrees with, reliable andrelentless in equal measure.Jeremyis meticulous, when he’s in charge he plots and plans and doublechecks, the very image of the perfect boss except for one flaw; moreoften than not he’s easily swayed. Will put together the perfectstealth plan only to agree when Michael makes a convincing argumentfor the importance of rocket launchers, conduct an ideal heist untilGavin begs to go after something shiny or Ray inquires aboutabandoning the sensible get away car for hilarious motorisedscooters.WhenGavin is on his game he is fucking glorious, a flashbang of recklesslaughter and terrible ideas none of them can resist, the promise thatcome hell or hand-grenades they will all be going home with a story.When Gavin plays leader he needs a lot of faith, needs the others totrust in things that don’t seem remotely feasible, but the payoff isalways worth it. Except for the days when his words are too sharp,his eyes too cold, when he wants nothing more than to pick a fightwith the most dangerous crook in the room, to swagger around theLSPD’s station unmasked, jump from a plane without checking hisparachute; dancing with death just to see if he can. Ifthey’re not careful on those days, if they missed the clues, the restof the Lads would follow him down, unable discern between Gavin’susual absurd genius and those streaks of genuinely aimless apathyuntil they’re all careening towards destruction.So,as grating as it seems, there is an undeniable argument for apermanent leader, someone to keep them all on course, to take theresponsibilities they don’t want, someone who can captain their shipwithout trying to push them all overboard. Still, you can’t just walkup to one of these infamous criminals and hand them an invitation;selling yourself – your dream, your crew, your city – takes time,takes planning, so in the end the FAHC’s first recruitment isn’t evenone of those big three.It’spure luck when Michael meets Lindsay; finds her twirling anail-studded bat in the wreckage of a bar, sipping a cocktail likeshe hadn’t just caved a man’s head in, and really nothing on earthcould have stopped Michael from offering her a place in the crew.From talking them up in a way he’d never really bother with normally,because honestly how could he not. It doesn’t take much to get theother three onboard, Lindsay was a perfect fit, a seamless addition,and with her the FAHC is unquestionably more efficient.Strangelythe Vagabond is actually far easier to get on board than any hadanticipated. After they start actively seeking his attention Ryancan’t help but watch the Lads. Not because their jobs are impressive(they are, actually, but Ryan’s in high demand, so very many crewsout there are impressive enough) but because they are endearingeager; nothing like the pathetic begging of so many others, noattempt to convince Ryan he should be desperate to work withthem, just genuine enthusiasm to prove themselves worthy ofhis time. They’re funny, something akin to a pack of recklesspuppies; certainly capable of outrageous damage but equally likely totrip over their own oversized paws in their excitement, and in thisbusiness Ryan really shouldn’t find it as charming as he does. Theytake to leaving him all kinds of gifts; generally intriguing , oftenamusing and near always utterly gruesome, and after a month or so ofhanging around the city toying with them they manage to get a formerRooster onside to run the show and Ryan’s run out of reasons tosay no.Gavin’sthe one they sent after Geoff, when the Lads decide they’re ready totry to bring the notoriously creative, fortuitouslycrew-seeking man into the FAHC. Gavin’s first approach, full ofdeferential respect playing to Ramsey’s ego, is a complete bust; Geoffthought he was sweet, called him kid, laughed in his face andsent him out the door with a crack about coming back when he was oldenough to drive. The second approach involves pulling a full blownjob on Ramsey, one that starts with the man unknowingly buying Gavina supercar and ends with the priceless tailored suit he’s wearingbeing pinned to the wall with a nail gun, Gavin grinning away like aparticularly bloodthirsty shark, and all of a sudden Geoff can’t sayhe isn’t tempted. Deigns to finally listen to the recruitment spiel,as though he’s got any other choice right now, and despite himself isquickly sold on the whole crew.Jeremygoes out one day and comes back with a handful of people, some they’dbeen discussing as a group, some the others hadn’t heard of, but allperfectly capable of holding their own agains the Lad’s disgruntleddissent. Steffie, who takes a look at their set up, rolls her eyes,then pulls out her phone and starts making a list, talking dealersand bases and possible new hires. Trevor who immediately sets tosoothing ruffled feathers, sidling up to Gavin and gushing about someridiculous theft, questioning Michael about his preference in heavyweaponry, ignoring the way Ray is skulking around behind him. Mattthey’d all agreed on, welcoming the chance to push off allcomputering nonsense onto someone else, and Mica assures them allthat she’s got no interest in sticking around, will work contracts asrequested but isn’t about the stationary crew life. In the end noblood is spilt, no tempers flare too badly, and Jeremy is reasonablysure he isn’t going to wake up with a gun to his temple, so all inall it goes pretty well.The last missing piece, Jack, is actually tracked down by Ray in the end; he wanders off one day andcomes back with a very amused woman in tow, decked out in a hideousHawaiian shirt and driving an obscenely nice Lamborghini. Apparentlyafter finding her, not particularly difficult considering she wasn’ttrying to hide, Ray simply told Jack all about Geoff’s fumblingattempts to simultaneously familiarise himself with the mess that isLos Santos, integrate himself into, and begin to take control of, analready close-knit, functioning crew, and do it all while pretendinghe’s not at all rattled by the Lad’s unwavering fascination with thehorrifically notorious assassin who insists on sticking a strawthrough his mask to pound down a truly irresponsible number of dietcokes. It took a while for her utterly joyous, completelyuncontrollable laughter to die down, but when she finally calmed Jackimmediately started packing.