#not sure i even spelled it right after going back and forth 3 times

[iceunhie]

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX !

# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

[fairlyang]

Ready 🕷️

w/c: 712

pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x wife!reader

tags: 18+ smut. halloween special<3 giving out candy, he’s thinkin, breeding kink, pregnancy, unprotected sex (duh), creampies, dirty talk

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

being miguel’s wife where you loved decorating for the holidays and being as extra as you could. so for halloween you found those cute inflatables to put in the front yard so the kids would know you’d be giving away candy.

you found such a perfect couples costume he found it hard to say no to because of your excited face.

he heard the doorbell ring and the trick or treaters have started for the night. he went downstairs from getting changed to find you bending down holding the bowl of candy to small kids.

you were complimenting them on their superhero costumes then waved goodbye. you shut the door and turned around to find your husband as handsome as ever.

“a real shame about that wig…” you joked and stepped forward to him, fixing the orange ascot.

“you’re fucking crazy if you thought i was gonna wear a blonde wig…” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“well it seems i’m just more committed to the cause then.” you tease and pull away.

the doorbell rang once again and you quickly went towards the door, opening and gasping at the little princesses in front of you. their little hands reached into the bowl and it warmed your heart.

miguel was watching you closely, eyes softening and a small smile appearing on his lips just imagining you as a mom. you’d be the best, the most nurturing mom ever.

it’d be the cutest thing to have a daughter and for her to look just like you, your mini me.

this conversation has been talked about plenty of times, always going back and forth if you’re really ready.

but watching you be so sweet and affectionate tugged on his heartstrings way more than he expected. it usually did anyway but tonight was just different.

he was ready.

you closed the door and turned to look at him again, this time his facial expression was much different.

he looked at you in your daphne blake costume, looking so gorgeous in that purple dress and matching heels, that not so cheap looking wig and he knew what you’d be doing after all the candy was done.

it was a brutal two hours later that he was finally able to take you into your bedroom, lift your dress up, rip your pink tights, and ensure you’re coming out of the bedroom pregnant.

he had already came inside you once doggy style on the edge of the bed, then had you ride him which had you tired too quickly so you were just grinding back and forth. you quickly came up with the bright little idea to spell his name with your hips repeatedly and by the third time he realized what you were doing, having no choice but to cum again.

after placing a towel beneath you so the cum can leak out for a few seconds is when he decides to flip you onto your stomach.

so now you were fucked out of your mind, makeup destroyed, wig barely intact as he fucked you prome bone style but making sure his body was barely hovering over yours. you were feeling so sensitive but at the same time didn’t want him pulling out because he was fucking you so good.

he was hitting the right spot with every thrust, going even deeper than before, practically hitting your cervix as you moaned out for him, “fuck baby- p-please-“

he moaned into your ear then kissing the side of your neck as he felt his cock twitching again. if this didn’t make you pregnant, he’d just have to try again tomorrow. the whole day if that’s what it takes.

he was determined and mind set.

“gonna be so pretty when you’re pregnant baby.” he grunted and you clenched against him.

you both moaned, going back and forth with dirty words, “yeah? gonna make sure you fill me up baby?”

“it’s what you deserve, my love.”

“please don’t stop-“

“c’mon, let’s have that family we’ve dreamed of.”

“please give it to me-“

you turned your head to kiss him and with the sloppiest of thrusts and slow kiss, he spilled his last load into you murmuring sweet i love yous as you both came hoping three rounds would be enough

[amyispxnk]

Mi Niña Hermosa

Masterlist

Summary - Javier gets you pregnant, but then he gets scared, leaving you to raise your little girl all alone. One day, he sees you working at a brothel to try and make ends meet, and realises what he needs to do.

A/N: for this ask! i hope you like it pookie<3 also please excuse any bad spanish! i tried my best with it but it might not be 100% accurate.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of sex work and sex, violence, language, pregnancy/children, arguing, brief suicidal ideation, hurt+comfort, angst, men being men

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“Shh, shh, Carmen, mi amor. Está bien,” you plead with your baby daughter. She’s been up for the past hour because of yet another explosion a few blocks away. You think it was a car bomb this time, but does it really matter? All you know for sure is that Carmen is not going to let you sleep through the night because of it.

She’s almost 12 months old now, which means it's been almost 2 years since you last saw Javi. You hate yourself for it, but sometimes you look at your little girl and feel bitter. It’s not her fault, but she was the reason that Javi finally said goodbye to you.

You both knew it was a long time coming, but when you showed him a positive pregnancy test that night, you yelled at each other until your throats were raw and all your tears had been cried, before he slammed the door in your face and left you there. It was the final time you saw him.

Because of Carmen’s deadbeat father, you ended up in a brothel. It was one of the hardest decisions of your life, but you knew you had to do it for her.

“¡Muy bien chicas, salgan y ganen algo de dinero!” You want to jump out of this building, is your first thought. Crash all the way to the floor and forfeit this terrible life you’ve been ‘blessed with’. But you can’t. So you hold your head high, plaster on a smile, and walk out into the lobby of the brothel.

Your smile drops when you see him.

Of all the fucking brothels to go to, he chooses this one? The one you just so happened to start working at a week prior? That tenth-storey window looks even more tempting right now, especially when he locks eyes with you.

He’s with a man, blonde hair, blue eyes. You think that man’s name is Steve Murphy. Yes, you’ve seen them on the news. Who the fuck hasn’t? It just makes you even more frustrated. He left you and Carmen behind so that he could hunt down Pablo Escobar. He abandoned the two of you for fame.

Javi’s eyes dart back and forth between you and Steve, before he starts making his way towards you.

Hell to the fucking no. You turn on your heel and almost drag a man you noticed was ogling you for the past 5 minutes into one of the rooms, letting the curtains close behind you, separating you from Javi.

The time you share with that man is no different than any of the other men you’ve been with, all uncomfortable and gross for you, mind-blowingly good for him.

Sometimes you still think of Javi when you feel a man on top of you. He was the best you had, after all.

Outside, Javi curses loudly, drawing the eye of a few people and his partner.

“What the fuck was that, Javi? We’re here to question the girl, not chase after this random. Your dry spell that bad?” Steve laughs, clapping him on the back. Javi quickly shrugs him off, jaw clenched and gaze hollow.

“I know her.” He mutters. Yes, he knows you. He knows every part of you. Your smile, which he only saw on a rare occasion. Your eyes, which could always pierce him, see straight through his soul and see the worst parts of him. Your body, which you now sell because of him.

Steve is still yapping on about something or other whilst the storm inside of Javi swirls, growing and growing. You’re behind that curtain, selling your body. He knows why you’re doing it too, and it makes him feel even worse. He feels like he’s about to pass out as it all hits him at once.

What a piece of shit he’s been.

You don’t deserve this life. You deserve to be happy, supported and protected by someone, anyone who can help you. Not Javi though. He’s not fit to be a father. After what he’s seen, what he’s done, he could never care for something as precious as your baby.

But he knows what men are like. Knows that, somehow, he’s one of the better men in this country. It’s not a high bar to pass, this he knows too, but he figures that it must be why you have to work here to provide for yourself and his child. Fuck. He doesn’t even know the gender, the name. He wasn’t there for you at all, and he should have been.

It feels like there’s no going back though. How could he ever apologise enough or make it up to you? What he’s done is irreversible. Just from the way you reacted when you saw him now, it feels like it’ll be impossible to try to apologise to you.

He thinks of his father, his mother. How disappointed would they be? They probably already were, but with this? Abandoning a girl with a child he gave her?

They would surely disown him.

He feels like he’s been ungrateful too. After being raised by two loving and caring parents, how could he leave his own child without one? And with a life like this?

He runs a hand down his face, telling Steve to shut up. A loud shout from the man behind the curtain, surely finishing without giving you a moment of pleasure. He knows what you sound like when the sex is good. You barely made a peep in these past 5 minutes.

The man walks out, commenting on ‘how good that slut was’ as he walks past Javi and Steve, and it takes everything in him not to punch him square in the face there and then.

“I need to talk to her, Steve. 5 minutes.” Javi decides suddenly. He can’t let this go on.

“You better not be fucking on the job, Javi.”

He grunts in response, entering the room and letting the curtains slide closed behind him.

The entire world goes still, silent just for the two of you. Almost 2 years have gone by, and this is how you meet. The shame almost swallows him whole.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, before you can even register what’s happening, because he knows you’ll be ready to kick and scream to get him away from you when you do.

Unsurprisingly, your eyes well with tears, and your face twists into one of disgust.

“Why the fuck are you here.” You spit, holding your robe tighter around yourself.

“We were here for a job, and-”

“Do you think I actually care? You fucked off two years ago, I don’t want to see you back here now. Whatever it is you want, I don’t care.” You interrupt. Yes, this was going to be as difficult as he thought.

“Baby, please just-”

“Don’t fucking call me that! You don’t get to call me that!” You shout. He’s on borrowed time before somebody comes and escorts him out of here.

“Just listen to me, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He pleads, desperate for you to listen. He doesn’t know how to get his message across to you.

Your tears burst forth, fat droplets cascading down your skin as you turn away from him.

“Go away, Javier. I don’t want to see your face ever again. I see it in her everyday and it already haunts me enough.”

His baby is a girl.

“I’m here to talk about her. I… I want to help. I’m so sorry for leaving. I got scared. I thought- I wasn’t ready to take care of something as precious as a baby… I thought you would get hurt if it was discovered that a DEA agent like myself had a child.”

“Yeah. Agente de la DEA, Javier fucking Peña,” you scoff, “who abandoned his child in pursuit of fame. To catch a bad guy. Some fucking hero you think you are.”

He can’t get angry with you. He won’t. However wrong you are about what you just said. He won’t do it.

“I don’t want fame.” He grits out. How much of an asshole is he that you thought he would leave you for fame? “I’m trying to help this country. It was dangerous enough for me to see you regularly, you know this. If I was seen with a woman and a child, they wouldn’t waste a second trying to kill you both. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I care about you. Please understand, baby.” He begs you again, hand carefully reaching for your shoulder and turning you to face him. You’re still sniffling, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Mírame.” He whispers, cupping your jaw and tilting your head up so he can see your eyes.

“Please, I’m sorry.” He says. He’ll say it thousands, millions of times, it still won’t be enough, but he can see that you’re starting to understand.

“It’s been 2 years. I had to be pregnant and raise her all by myself. Not once did you check on me.”

“I was scared. I was being a coward, I know. I… I won’t be surprised if you tell me to leave again, but let me help pay for her. I don’t want you working here. It’s dangerous.” He murmurs, eyes shining with emotion as he looks into yours.

You shake your head, and he gets ready to argue about it, but you pull him closer, squeezing the air out of him and shaking with sobs again.

“I’ve needed you for so long. I- I don’t know how I managed this long. I need you, Javi.” You choke out, his heart shattering with every word until it’s laid out on the floor for you.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” He soothes, running his hand through your hair.

Over the next month, he helps you leave the brothel, gives you some money to get on your feet. You still live apart, despite his protests that you’d be safer living with him, you’re not ready yet.

Today you figure will be the decider of that. He’s going to meet Carmen.

You rub your eyes as the morning sun hits you, rousing you from your sleep. The clock reads 9:37. Just over 20 minutes until your daughter finally meets her father.

The 20 minutes are spent waking and feeding her, before a knock on the door stops you.

You exhale shakily and walk to the door, opening it slowly.

“Hola, Javi.” You say softly. He greets you, equally timid. You notice he’s holding a little teddy bear in his hands, almost making you laugh at how it looks being held by this big brooding man, but you just shake your head.

“Come and meet her.” You murmur, opening the door further so he can step inside.

There, messing around on your bed, is the most beautiful little girl he’s ever seen. He can definitely see his features on her face. The lips, the eyes. She got your nose, thankfully he thinks, and her hair is a unique blend of yours and Javi’s.

“She’s so beautiful.” He whispers, and you just nod, still unsure of your feelings for him right now.

“Carmen, baby, say hello.” You coo, picking her up and bringing her over to Javi. He’s quiet, scared, as always. But then she babbles at him, clapping her hands together and trying to reach for him. The teddy. He almost forgot about it.

“Hola pequeña, soy tu papá. ¿Quieres el peluche?” He says softly, waving it around a bit before handing it to her and letting her play. You and Javi talk for a bit while she sits on the bed, but then something happens. She gets tired, which is normal around 2pm, but instead of crawling to you, she goes to Javi. Carmen wraps her little fingers around one of his larger ones, curling up in his lap. The two of you still, and it shocks you to see tears appearing in his eyes as he strokes her hair, letting her sleep on him.

You decide to move in with him that night, realising that you don’t want him to be away from you and Carmen ever again.

TYSM for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞

[kmuradesu]

Car baby

DadHusband!SimonRiley x PregnantWife!Reader (afab)

Summary: A couple days after your due date, your water broke but you persisted to stay at home while you had the opportunity to - even though Simon hated the idea. And because of that, you are now having the baby. On the way to the hospital.

———————

word count: around 1.2k

cw: pregnancy, depictions of intense pain - a little blood, bad language, dangerous driving, car birth.

———————

sorry if they’re spelling mistakes, i didn’t go through it properly properly. kinda lost it at the end, but enjoy !

“Hold on— bloody hell, woman.”

One minute you were trying to rest on the settee with a warm tea in your grasp. And the next, you were hunched over mumbling in pain. The tea had jolted from your hand and split over the carpet.

“..fuuck!” Your voice a sharp groan as his arms quickly found way under your own.

“We should’ve gone to the hospital..” No, he wasn’t scolding you but Simon was a little irritated at the fact your persistence had come to this. In labour in your own home, which wasn’t that ideal.

A wavering whimper left your lips, your fingers curling tightly into his muscle as he gently lifted your pregnant body up.

“Lovie, s’alright just hold onto me. And breathe.”

“Isn’t breathing what I’m doing?!”

“Not exactly, more like whinin’ your guts out.”

The burly man took most of your weight, leading you quickly to the car that sat outside on the drive with duffel bags already stocked for the trip. But it shocked you to think it was all happening now.

Simon didn’t even think to put a towel down before seating you in the car, but everything was going on at a rapid pace he had forgotten.

Once you were sat he did the seatbelt for you before closing the door and rushing to the driver’s side.

“We’ll get to the hospital. All will be fine ‘oney.”

As if he wasn’t shitting his pants right there and then.

Getting in the car, it didn’t take long for you to be pushed back into your seat by an invisible force. It kinda took the breath out of you.

But so was the baby that was literally about to pop out.

“Shit— I know we’re in a rush-” Your voice strained, followed by your brows knitting together. “But slow down!”

Of course Simon didn’t listen. However he did look back and forth at your rounded stomach quite a couple of times. The last thing you would’ve wanted right now was to be caught in an accident.

A harsher surge of pain had swept through your back and lower stomach all the way to the disc of your spine, causing you to choke on a loose sob as your hand took a vice-like grip on Simon’s arm. He cursed something under your moans.

He focused on trying to get there safely, but on a condition that he could cut down on minutes.

As cars swerved out of the way of your oncoming vehicle, which was not going to stop, you held onto him for dear life. Pretty sure there’s bound to be a bruise on his bicep after this.

“Simon, I think I’m bleeding!”

Your cry of words is what snapped 3 quarters of his attention to you. The poor man’s head was on a swivel, returning between both you and the road.

He stuck his hand out and placed it on your bare thigh.

“Hell- is that normal?!”

“I don’t think so!” Your pained moans were swapped with pained cries.

It was making Simon feel sick. Not because you were bleeding, no, but because of the immense pain you were feeling and not being able to do a thing about it apart from reassure you.

A soft hand of yours snaked down below your pants.

Touch.

Take out.

Red. A lot of red.

God the sight could’ve made both you and Simon faint.

“Christ.” A mutter under his cold breath.

He rubbed his toughened hand up and down your thigh, adding pressure as he steered with the other.

“Don’t worry love, we’re pulling over..”

————

Your cries of agony were deafening over the hushed woman’s voice of an ambulance emergency operator. It was almost embarrassing, but fairs to you, a newborn was making itself known.

Simon was on your side out of the car, listening to what the woman was telling him to do.

‘Have you got towels?’

“Uh yes, in the back.”

‘Use those for the baby when it’s out.’

“..alright.”

‘Is this her first?’

“Yes—”

Another one of your screams. But it seemed to have supported her next instruction.

‘When you are pushing honey, you need to push for 6 seconds, then take a 10 second breather okay?’

“..okay.” The word wobbled from your lips.

Simon took your hand and placed another on your bent knee. Props to you, you were doing this without a damn epidural.

There was blood literally everywhere, all down your thighs and hands, even on Simon. But he really couldn’t care less.

Your grip tightened as you pushed, feeling the sharp tense radiate through your core as you felt tension building up.

“..keep pushing love.” Simon grunted uneasily, wincing a little at the deathly grip of your hand interlocked with his. “Fuck that’s hard—”

‘Breathe 10 seconds..’

‘Then push again.’

God, you were pushing and pushing. If only tough Simon could experience this, my, would it be brilliant.

As you pushed you felt the tight head of the baby force itself out, followed by a sense of relief and loose pressure.

“The heads out!..” Simon said in quite excited tone, pulling a wonky confused face from you. But it was nice to see Simon show such enthusiasm.

‘Good. Just keep pushing mama, the baby’ll be out in no time.’

All that was coming out of your mouth was just endless cries of pain and weakened mumbles of suffering. It was making Simon feel ill again.

“..jesus— the shoulders on this thing—ah!”

..‘this thing’ was the baby.

“Just the shoulders.. and the baby will be out. Alright lovie?” He kissed you on the head.

You gave a loose nod, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, and tears staining your peachy cheeks that were washed away with Simon’s thumb.

He then got towels, as the operator had told him to, ready to catch the baby when it slips out. You couldn’t help but feel a little violated of your space, but the man’s seen it all before sooo.

You pushed, along with the woman’s voice through the phone on the dashboard and Simon’s little but effective encouragement. Christ, the tension was too powerful, were you tearing or something?

But it wasn’t too long, before it felt like you had been emptied from the inside out. The relief.

“It’s out— the baby’s out!” Simon called, a small smile plastered along his face. That was something you almost never saw in a while. Sarcasm by the way.

‘Put it bare on the mother’s chest, pat its back until you hear a cry.’

He did as he was told and used the towel to gently place the baby on the unclothed part of your chest, his brows furrowing a little at the fact that for it to be alive, it needed to cry.

Your shaky hand was a bit late to lightly pat the newborn, Simon was already getting to it, but you felt so weak at the moment it was almost unbearable.

“Breathe baby. Breathe.”

The man whispered.

To you or the baby?

The silence was awfully mute, a high pitched ringing the only thing loud in your ears apart from Simon’s bated breath.

A cry.

The breaths everyone had been holding were blown as the baby announced itself to the three of you. Simon dryly chuckled. You swear you heard the operator chuckle too.

‘Congratulations Mum and Dad. Is it a boy or a girl?’

Simon’s eyes laid softly on you with your newborn, a hand on his child, and the other on your meaty thigh.

“A girl.” He said with a small smirk, kissing you again on the forehead as you looked dazed.

‘How’s the Mum?’ Worn out. Exhausted. Little light-headed. Icky. Nauseated.

“..I’m fine. I think.”

You thought it was better just to act.. okay. Although to Simon, it was obvious that you needed space, and possible to be checked over my doctors. Your bronzed gaze looked down at the pair of lidded eyes on your chest.

‘That’s good. The ambulance is nearly there to take you all to the hospital, for them to take a look at you and the baby.’

A tired sigh left your lips, your eyes heavy as your hand rested on the wailing newborn.

“..you did bloody brilliant.” The man reassured, his hand brushing away sticky strands of hair from your forehead.

Your look returned to him, searching for something in his eyes before he pecked your lips with a small kiss.

Damn. You just had a baby.

[satureja13]

The Morning after Winter Solstice

When Ji Ho woke up, Vlad had already left. And Ji Ho was glad he did. It would have been too awkward to wake up next to him. There was a lily on the bed. A symbol of Vlad's love for him. All obstacles are out of their way now. No curse and no need to cut the Bond anymore. They have a home now in the Otherworld and they are save there. Only thing Ji Ho has left to do is to learn how to love Vlad...

Vlad stepped out of the sanctuary. Dtui and Rubyn are already up and busy with the pedestals. They are trying to figure out how to send the Boys back and forth between their home in the Otherworld and this world. Dtui: "Morning Vlad! It went very well as I see. You have your eyes back! The others are at Ichiraku's." Vlad: "Morning. Ah, yes ^^' and thanks!"

Jeb and Jack noticed Vlad's good old eyes: "Oh my finally!" (Saiwa is sulking because neither Vlad nor Jeb told them why they showed up without their shirts yesterday... Jeb even in his hot cowboy outfit...)

And really, Vlad regained his black eyes! It seems the Bond has forgiven him for trying to bond with Morgan and murder the Bond...

A little later Ji Ho joined them. Jack: "Ji Ho! How do you feel after you shoved Caleb Vatore from your bed and your neck? For Vlad ^^' "

Ji Ho flushed. But he sat next to Vlad <3 Saiwa to Vlad: "You must be a very good boy now to not make Ji Ho regret his decision ;)" Jack: "Ah lucky Genji! He left together with Lady Demon and Caleb in the limousine!"

They indulged their breakfast and chatted for a while. Knowing they'd return to their new home soon. Together. Ah, it's been a while since I've seen them so carefree and happy! Only - Kiyoshi's place is empty. Let's hope they get him out of that tree soon.

Saiwa: "You still haven't told us why you showed up without your shirts yesterday..." Vlad: "What happens behind the fence, stays behind the fence." Saiwa: "Yeah? What if I kill you behind the fence?" Jeb: "Vanië, such things happen when riding the fence. I told you it's dangerous. You never know from which leg of the Trousers of Time you'll emerge when you hop in the waistband. Let's just forget about it, hm?"

Pff. Sai went over to Dtui and Rubyn to discuss when they are going to send them back home. Rubyn: "We still have no idea how to send you back and forth by yourself. If we send you back now, either Vlad or Ji Ho has to stay here with their meteorite." Saiwa: "Oh. No that's not an option. Other Jeb urged us to stay together..." Dtui: "While I cast my spells here yesterday, I figured a few things out. We already know that the meteorites, together with the crystals, allow you to teleport to certain places. Rubyn could be able to build a portable device for you. But we need more information about the powers of the crystals."

Saiwa: "Oh we'd found an amazing website with all the information about the crystals when we were on the clue hunt in Selvadorada!" Dtui: "Unfortunately we need information from a specific old book. This wisdom is not shared on the internet. Saiwa. We can't send you home yet. We need you to go to the library in Windenburg to find this book. Make sure nobody recognizes you there. The Council is still after you. I'm sorry." Rubyn: "Hey, you've already managed harder stuff, right?" Oh no...

Then poor Saiwa went over to the Temple with Dtui to discuss Kiyoshi. Saiwa: "We've made good progress and I'm positive we'll get him out of that tree. Little Goat already shows up from time to time. I'm just not sure how to interpret Other Jeb's message. When he urged us to stay together, did he also mean Kiyoshi? And If yes, how is he supposed to stay with us in the Otherworld when he has his duties here at the Temple. And for the Resistance?" Dtui: "I fear Kiyoshi can't return back here anyway. Kōjin banned him from the Temple. And he's of no use for the Resistance either as it is. Keep him with you and look after him. He still has so much to learn." Oh no...

Ji Ho: "I hope Genji isn't sad I chose Caleb. Over him..." Jack: "Don't worry. He also chose Caleb ^^' Anybody would ;) " Vlad: "Tch...this bigheaded goth kitten. And what is even going on with his hair?..."

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🛺 'Home crappy Home' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: 🌴 'The Expedition' from the beginning ▶️ here 🎤 'Putting the Boys Back together' from the beginning ▶️ here 🥀 'Disbandment of the Group' from the beginning ▶️ here

[girlrachael]

The Uncles/Dads find out that Casey is a Turtle

They did it, everyone was here. And now they can rest, heal, and just be happy with one another. (and possibly cause immense chaos >:3)

Donatello now has a burning question that now has risen to the top of his list of ‘questions I need answers to’. So Donatello turns to Casey and asks the question that has been on the back burner for awhile.

“So with what happened at the facility, can you answer my question now?”

This makes Casey start to visibly sweat. Donatello simply raises an eyebrow, while the rest of the Uncles/Dads are swiveling back and forth wondering what the heck was going on.

Leo interrupted the stare off, “Donnie, what are you going on about?” Donatello turned to Leo to give a response, “Well my dear twin, this one (points at Casey) went to get the ingredients for the ‘plot twist’ serum and needed to disguise himself. So Casey Jones proceeded to change into a turtle.”

This response made all the turtles turn to Casey in shock and in extreme confusion. Mikey spoke first, “Turtle? Casey, was this a situation that you put on something like a cloaking broche to look like a turtle, or have you stayed a turtle from that one time back in our timeline?” 

Casey looked away and just let the cloaking spell fall and there he was, in all his cute, turtle-y glory. This action gained dropped jaws from everyone but Donatello, who was nodding in the background because he had the answer to his question. 

Leo spoke first after a moment, “Why?”

Casey sighed and looked at his lap before answering, “I just….. Just felt like I was truly a part of ‘this whole situation’. And sure I liked being human but I liked being a part of you guys that much more.”

Raph, who had been sitting mostly in shock the entire time, shook it off and just grabbed Casey and set him in his lap and gave an answer while just lightly petting Casey, “Casey, you were always part of ‘this whole situation’. You’re basically our son/nephew, human or not.”

Casey nodded tearfully and then Leo voiced a question due to Casey’s strange choice of words earlier, “Casey, if you liked being a human, why stay a turtle? It seems like there is more than just you being a turtle and wanting to stay that way?”

Casey fell into a thinking face before turning to Leo and answering the previous question, “To start the process of turning me back, Draxum had to identify what type of turtle I turned into. Sure I look like a red-eared slider but Draxum wanted to make sure. And he was right to double check, apparently I’m a turtle amalgamation of all of your turtle types.”

This made the turtles bug-eyed, Donatello included. Raph spoke up in a rather quiet tone, “Even me?....” Raph looked like he was about to cry, Casey nodded quickly and started talking, “Uh huh, even Draxum was surprised on that front. It’s extremely subtle, it’s my sharp teeth, that’s from you Uncle Raph.” Raph does now start tearing up especially after I flashed a sharp toothy smile at him.

Mikey spoke up next, “And how do I play into this? It’s obvious with Leo. Actually…. What about Donnie?”

Casey turned to Mikey and started to explain, “For you Master Michelangelo, I have a shell pattern extremely similar to Box Turtles. And for UncleTello, these are somehow even more subtle than Uncle Raph’s, I can hold my breath for about the same amount of time as UncleTello and I have a SoftShell Turtle’s jaw strength.” At that Mikey and Donatello both gained star eyes at that. 

Leo stood up suddenly and walked over to Raph and Casey and plopped himself into Raph’s lap after picking up Casey and setting Casey in my lap and just held him close. After both seeing what happened, Mikey and Donatello walked over and leaned on/climbed on the now all turtle cuddle pile. Casey seeing that his Uncles/Dads weren’t mad at him for keeping something this big from them started the water works for the stress of keeping this secret for so long. And all of the Uncles/Dads just started reassuring and some even just cuddling closer to Casey to calm him down.

While that day didn’t go the way they thought the day was going to go, they were still all just happy, healing, and now could just live their lives without fear of the next day.

[sweetcocopowder]

Destiel | Playing Couple Pt.4

Synopsis: After the party, Dean is freaking out because Sam can't reach them until the coming weak. And so he's stuck in the house with the angel.

Word Count: 1.1K

Genre: Supernatural Fluff

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Warnings: Still internalized homophobia

Extra notes: Stuck to my promise :]

Pt.3 | Pt.5

The very next day, Castiel calls Sam to come by. That this is bigger than any of them could have ever imagined. But from where the bunker is and how far they’re out, Sam won’t be here until later this week. The younger Winchester is currently out on another hunt with Eileen. It’s sweet to hear, but Dean only wishes for Sam to be here.

Because it’s too long for Dean to be sitting around doing nothing. Waiting for someone to make the move. Because for sure that little scene at the party had only raised questions within the neighbourhood and whatever spell that witch had cast. She’s got her answers. Cas reacted, Dean did not. And Dean’s got his best bet on that she was seeing if they were creatures or not.

Dean wishes he had Sam’s laptop right now so he could up what that symbol the witch cast meant. It’s been itching at his brain the entire day and he can’t stop pacing. Last thing he wants to do his ask Rowena for help.

“Dean. Stop,” Castiel snaps from where he is on the couch, finally having enough of the hunter’s wondering and pacing about.

“What else am I meant to do?” Dean throws his hands in a fit.

“Sit,” is all the angel says.

Dean grumbles to himself before he sits himself down on the far end of the couch from Cas. His foot fidgets and bounces up and down. He hates waiting around and isn’t too good at it when the entire neighbourhood is filled with different creatures.

A firm hand on his thigh stops his bounding foot.

“We’re fine, Dean,” Cas assures him.

Castiel’s hand is warm and that’s all Dean can think of before he pushes himself off the couch, out of the angel’s reach.

“What can we do!?” Dean exclaims as he begins pacing again.

“Unless you want to go headfirst into a bunch of witches, werewolves and other creatures, then I suggest sitting down and waiting for Sam,” Castiel speaks firmly but calmly.

He knows how jittery Dean can become in these types of situations. Shoot first, ask questions later. Even if it means he’s vastly outnumbered. Which is something that only jitters Castiel’s nerves each time he thinks about it. He watches Dean pace back and forth, then into the kitchen to grab himself a beer and chug half the bottle in one go. Cas can only sigh as Dean tries to calm his nerves. The last time he saw him like this, it was quite awhile ago now.

Instead of pacing, Dean comes back to the couch and sits where he originally was with a grunt and a huff. He takes another long drag from his beer before turning to the angel.

“How are you so calm?” Dean asks.

“Because we’re protected and if we both freak out then it won’t do us any favours in the long run,” the angel chides, hoping the message gets through.

In human terms, he needs to calm the fuck down.

“I am calm!” Dean snaps back.

Cas only raises a single brow at that before he leans back into the couch with his hands in his lap. He keeps his eyes on Dean though as the hunter rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his beer.

The rest of the day went by like this. Dean wanted to head outside and ask questions around the neighbourhood. But Castiel stopped him, saying it would only raise more suspicion and they can’t afford that now.

Instead, Castiel burrowed Dean’s phone and rang Gabriella to say thanks for inviting them. She was more than delighted to hear from them and to hear that Cas was fine. She even mentioned that both of them should come by again soon for a little cup of tea.

Dean wanted to say it’s a trap, but Cas wasn’t getting that type of unease with Gabriella. Not even with Dante.

-

That night, after double and triple checking the wards and the salt lines, Dean had put on a movie to ease his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about what the witch had done to Cas. Yes, it was an easy fix. But with how helpless he felt surrounded by so many people, it made him shiver. An uneasiness coming over him. He’s seen the angel in pain before and he wished, prayed even that he never have to hear those noises again.

But here he was, having fresh memories in his head of Castiel crying out in agony. He sips on his fifth beer for the day with a little less enthusiasm than the last.

Cas, having left his trench coat and suit jacket behind, sits down on the other end of the couch with him to join him for the movie. They sit in silence for a while, but Dean can feel that the angel wants to say something.

“Spit it out, Cas,” Dean suddenly says. “You’re making me feel itchy.”

“I want to say we can’t faulter in our disguise now,” Cas inquires. “Especially not now.”

“I know that, Cas,” the hunter says as if it’s obvious.

But the angel only raises a single brow as he frowns slightly. Dean scoffs at this and looks to back to the movie before back at Castiel.

“Do you? Because every time I try and play this role, you’re the one pushing away,” Cas says firmly.

This strikes a nerve in Dean. He wants to snap out, lash out, bite. But he knows why he’s like this. And it all has to do with these weird feelings he has rocking around in him that he can’t make heads or tails of. So he does the only thing he knows and reverts to anger and biting, which doesn’t get him anywhere.

Dean keeps his mouth shut for a few seconds before letting out the air from his lungs he didn’t realize he was holding in. He huffs somewhat to a child and adverts his eyes.

“Then what would you suggest I do?” Dean asks, more or so grumbles.

At this, Castiel shuffles a little closer to the hunter on the couch. By instinct, Dean stiffens up.

“Come here,” and with, Dean is being pulled into the angel’s warm arms.

Dean can’t help but stare at the space in front of him. It’s all pretend. This isn’t real. There’s no need to panic. He shuffles a bit so he can get comfy in Cas’s hold, but the angel makes it clear he isn’t letting go. Not until he relaxes.

They watch the movie in silence but all Dean can think about how… safe he feels. The jumble of emotions running circles in his gut feel like a thousand butterflies. He’s never felt like this flirting with woman. Not even when he knows he’s nervous.

The movie passes by but Dean is very aware of how warm the angel is against him. It’s… nice. And something deep down in Dean, something he will never admit.

He wishes this all wasn’t pretend.

[quickspinner]

Indelible Ch 21 - Tracking

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22| ?? | AO3

Another long day on the road, and another set of rehearsals and shows ahead of them. Today, though, as they pulled up to their hotel, everyone in the van sat up a little straighter in surprise. There was a crowd of people standing in the hotel parking lot, waving signs and cheering at the sight of the van and trailer, though neither were marked. 

“Are those…groupies?” Jenna asked, awe in her voice as she leaned over to look between the front seat. 

“Looks that way,” Yann replied quietly, brow creasing. He looked at Luka. 

Luka looked back at him, feeling a bit at a loss. He had no idea what to do.

“I can go in and get hotel security to escort us in,” Yann suggested. 

Luka looked back at the knots of people bunching up around the hotel doors, and swallowed. “Nah, I think we can handle a few fans,” he said, looking over his shoulder for confirmation. The rest of the band had eager lights in their eyes, clearly tickled by the situation. Luka smiled, and tried to relax as he faced forward again. “Yeah, just go ahead and park us. We can say hi, sign some…autographs or whatever.” It wasn’t like he’d never signed an autograph before, he didn’t know why he felt so awkward about it. Maybe it was because these people were definitely here to see him, and not Jagged. 

Luka shifted nervously as Yann parked the van. “Let me just get some precautions set up so things don’t get out of hand,” Yann said as he opened his door, calling for the crowd to stand back, please. The band waited, waving back at the crowd, while Yann went inside to consult with the hotel managers. Luka wondered if anyone could even see them through the van’s tinted windows, but he didn’t want to spoil anyone’s fun, so he joined in.. Luka didn’t know how he did it but by the time Yann signaled the band to come out, there was a rope line organized and the small but clamoring crowd stayed respectfully on their side of it, cheering and handing over books and albums and various things to be signed. The band members accepted whatever was closest to them, signed, and handed the pieces back and forth. Luka tried hard to hear what the fans said to him, did his best to spell names right and make sure things got back to the correct people. He mentally thanked Penny again and again as Yann single-handedly directed things and kept people organized to an extent Luka wouldn’t have believed was possible. 

Finally it seemed like everyone was satisfied, and the band waved and blew kisses as they were ushered through the hotel doors. The fans were still belting Luka’s latest single as the hotel doors slid shut. Luka put his face in his hands as his bandmates giggled and bounced and gushed over the experience. Even Crusher was grinning, a full on smile instead of his usual cynical smirk. 

Watching them between his fingers, Luka smiled. He felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay?” Yann asked, and Luka nodded. 

“Just processing,” he mumbled. Yann nodded and handed him his room key. 

“Couffaine, you coming?” Crusher asked, the others already heading towards the hotel bar.

“Nah, mate,” Dingo said, slinging his arm over Crusher’s shoulder. “He’s gonna go think deep thoughts or some shit. Let the money man go write some new songs while we party.” 

Luka rolled his eyes but smiled, thankful for the excuse. Yann trailed after the others with an expression of longsuffering. Luka felt a little bad, but was just as glad he didn’t have to stand Drunk Dingo Duty. Dingo was right, he needed to think.

Luka’s hands were still shaking as he let himself into his room. He dumped his luggage and Dingo’s in the corner, and then went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He leaned on the counter as he waited for the water to heat up, and then straightened and took off his shirt.

As always, his eyes found Marinette’s name on his body in the mirror. He touched it with two fingers and looked down to see it directly. It was more muted than he liked. Luka was still worried about that call the day of his migraine. He’d tried calling Marinette back a few days later, but it seemed like she had already moved past the issue, and they hadn’t talked for very long because…

“Hold on a second, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and there was a slight rustle before he heard her call a slightly muffled “Come in!” She gasped a little. “Oh, Felix! I thought we weren’t meeting until—it doesn’t matter though, just let me finish up and I’ll be right—oh, no, you don’t have to do that. Oh, the one in the lobby is fine, please don’t go to any trouble—I mean, you don’t have to get me coffee at all, I'll really only be a moment, it’s just a personal call…well, that’s really sweet of you. I’ll be done by the time you come back up, I promise. Thank you so much Felix!”

There was another rustle and the sound came clear again. “Sorry, Luka, looks like I’ll have to keep this short. He’s so busy, and I always feel bad when he makes extra time for me.” 

“Sure,” Luka said, and had to clear his throat. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay, since we couldn’t talk before.” 

“Oh, it’s fine, I really was making a big deal about nothing,” Marinette said in a flustered rush. “I feel really stupid about it actually, Felix was just trying to do his job and I took it personally. You’d think after working with Gabriel I could handle criticism but I don’t know, I just blew the whole thing way out of proportion. You know how I get when I spiral.”

Luka did, but he also agreed that after years of working under Gabriel, Marinette had developed a thicker skin and was capable of handling criticism or correction. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me about it?”

“No, I’ll just get worked up again and it’s silly to do that to myself,” Marinette said, and Luka’s frown deepened. “Besides, you have so much on your plate already, I don’t want to take advantage of you and wear you out with my troubles.”

Luka was caught so off guard by such an absurd statement that he couldn’t answer immediately, and before he collected his thoughts, Marinette was saying, “Oh, there he is, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, Luka! Good luck on your show!”

It had been short text messages and very infrequent, abbreviated conversations since then. His schedule was packed and hers was insane, and finding a private moment was incredibly difficult. Still, they’d always managed before, and that last thing she said…it bothered him. 

Luka shook his head hard to break out of the thought cycle. He finished undressing and got in the shower, turning his thoughts to the tangle of feelings stemming from having people coming to greet him as he arrived in a town. Did it mean anything, or was it just a fluke? 

He wondered if the show was sold out. He’d known they were doing good numbers but they’d never had a sold out crowd in the time that they’d been on their own. That would be a great milestone. Something to really celebrate. 

Connecting with the fans face to face like that, spontaneously, had given him a warm, fluttery feeling in his stomach. He hadn’t realized he had missed that. Luka had always had a special love for small, intimate venues where you could create an atmosphere between performer and listener. It was hard to recreate, playing big stadium crowds. It was nice to find that feeling of connection again. 

By the time he got out of the shower, he went straight for his notebook, still dripping.

***

The show was sold out, and so was the next night, and before the end of the second show, the third had sold out as well. It was exhilarating and frightening all at once. Their next tour stop was the same, and some of the conditional clauses in their contract were now coming into play, adding tour stops and extra shows. 

Luka supposed he should have seen it coming, as their popularity and numbers had been increasing steadily, but somehow he never believed he would get there. The band was ecstatic, and Luka was too, but there was an edge of fear that gnawed at him, that it would all stop just as quickly as it had started. 

“Quickly, my ass,” Dingo complained when Luka finally voiced his concern. “We’ve worked bloody damn hard for years to get here. Yeah, sometimes artists flame out, and maybe we will too, but we’ve still done more than a lot of people ever get to. We’ve already had two number one hits so you can’t call us a one-hit wonder. What happened to all that ‘live in the moment’ bullshit you’ve been spewing at Mari for years?”

Luka winced at the reminder, both of his own hypocrisy and of Marinette. If it had been hard to talk before it was damn near impossible now, with publicity events and extra shows being suddenly added to his schedule. They hadn’t spoken except over text for weeks.

Dingo clapped a hand on his shoulder and shook slightly, knocking him out of the spiral again. “Just enjoy it Lu. You wanted to show the old man you can do it on your own, and now we’re fucking here, and you’re freaking out.”

“Right,” Luka said, smiling weakly. “You’re right.” 

***

It was harder and harder to find time to himself these days but Luka had made sure he would have some today. It might all be for nothing, but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t at least try. 

Luka sat on his bed and dialed Marinette’s number, almost hopeless of getting an answer. 

He did, but the face that popped up on his screen wasn’t the one he expected. 

“Marinette’s phone,” said the blond man on the screen coolly. 

“Ah—” Luka blinked. “I was just calling to tell Marinette happy birthday.” 

The blond man smiled, and the picture tilted slightly to show Marinette on a stool, trying to hold up a large bundle of white fabric that kept trying to spill out of her hands. 

“She’s a bit occupied a the moment, as you can see—” 

“Luka! Felix, don’t let him hang up!” Marinette called, and then disappeared in a billow of white as another fold of fabric slipped from her hold. 

“Well, orders are orders,” Felix said mildly, coming back into view, though Luka could still see peeks of where Marinette was working over Felix’s shoulder. “I’ll do my best to be entertaining.” 

Felix looked Luka over as he spoke, and Luka found himself doing the same. Felix was quite a bit like his cousin in looks, though he had a stiff formality that was at odds with Adrien’s carefully cultivated air of approachability. Felix’s eyes were sharper, fixed on Luka, without Adrien’s tendency to let his gaze drift. Calculating , whispered Luka’s mind, and he suppressed the shiver that wanted to run through him.

“I understand you’re gathering quite the following on your tour,” Felix said conversationally. “Not that I pay attention to music much myself, outside of film scores, but Marinette watches the entertainment news almost every night and speaks quite highly of you.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” Luka replied, as neutrally as he could. “She’s always been very supportive.” 

Felix’s eyes narrowed slightly before he chuckled. “Yes, I can see how she would be. She certainly brings a very positive energy to the set. She’s quite popular with all our talent here, as you can see, even though she’s only been working with the cast for a few weeks now.”

“She’s like that everywhere she goes,” Luka couldn’t help a wry grin despite his discomfort. “Always has been. There aren’t many people who can hold out against her for long.”  

“She is very determined,” Felix agreed dryly. “And charming,” he added unexpectedly, looking back over his shoulder, and Luka was sure Felix softened a little bit. So even a cold fish like Felix wasn’t immune to Marinette. Hardly surprising, but oddly, it made Luka feel a little better. At least Felix saw Marinette as a person, and not just an asset. Luka hadn’t known he was worried about that until this moment of sudden relief. “We’re lucky to have secured such a talented designer,” Felix continued, facing Luka again, and Luka felt the inexplicable urge to freeze. “And you? May I ask what your plans are once your tour is completed?” Felix asked. 

“That’ll depend on the label,” Luka said, shrugging. He felt the impulse to look away, but resisted, certain that Felix was watching his reactions as closely as Luka was watching Felix. “Things are looking positive at the moment, though. We’re not quite halfway through this tour, so it’s a bit early to be making predictions.”

“But if your tour is successful, you’ll be doing another one next—year? Season? I’m not sure what the correct term is.” 

“Nothing’s confirmed yet. I think it will depend a lot on what the numbers look like at the end of this tour, but…that’s the hope, yes.” 

“It must be difficult, spending so much time on the road, away from your family and friends.” 

Luka cocked his head slightly, feeling oddly uneasy. “I’m sure you must know how it is. Marinette says you work very hard.”

“Oh, I do.” Felix gave a small smirk. “But largely here in the city. It’s rare that we need to film on location, these days, and I don’t often need to be there when we do. I can usually fly out for only a few days at a time. I find it much more rewarding to be here at the studio where I can be hands on with the parts that are more important to me.” He turned aside slightly and gave a much broader smile. “Ah, and here’s Marinette. It was nice to meet you, Luka.” The picture swung wildly for a second as Felix handed the phone over, and Luka heard him say, “Marinette, my dear, I do hate to limit you, but Miss St. Eves is to be here in twenty minutes and you know how she is.” 

“Of course, Felix,” Marinette said breathlessly, and then she was beaming at him, bright-eyed and flushed. “Luka, it’s so good to hear from you.”

Luka smiled. “Happy birthday, Marinette.” 

Marinette’s mind was clearly still on the piece she was working on, and Luka was happy to listen to her ramble about it, content to witness her excitement. She had come a long way, he reflected, since she had been weeping on his bed in New York, broken-hearted and confused about the future. It was definitely satisfying to see her speak about her own work with such confidence. 

They were interrupted by Dingo, who had somehow managed to come into the hotel room without Luka noticing. He threw himself on Luka’s back and howled a greeting to Marinette in Luka’s ear. It made Marinette laugh, so Luka just put a hand on his face and shoved him off instead of chewing him out. She asked then about the tour, and Dingo and Luka took turns giving her a not-very-coherent account of the last few weeks. 

Felix’s voice, though a whisper, interrupted them at last. “I’m truly sorry, pet, but I just can’t keep her calm any longer, if you would be so kind…”

“Oh! Yes!” The camera gave a stomach-churning jolt as Marinette leapt to her feet. “Of course, I’ll be right there—I’m sorry guys, I have to go!” She gave a heart-stopping smile. “Thanks for calling. I hope we’ll get to talk again soon.”

Luka and Dingo chorused their farewells, and Luka hung up, shoving Dingo out of his personal space with his free hand. 

“So you met the wonderful Felix?” Dingo asked, plopping down on his bed. 

“How long were you standing there?” Luka demanded, and Dingo grinned innocently at him. “Yes, I did talk to him for a few minutes.”

“So what breed of pretentious rich asshole is he?” 

“The careful kind,” Luka responded without thinking, and then frowned, turning his phone over in his hands. “He was more…polite than I expected,” Luka mused, trying to sort through the jumble of impressions he had taken away from the short interaction. “I don’t know, I got the feeling he was sort of a superior-type person, but he didn’t talk down to me or give me one of those looks.” Dingo nodded and they exchanged a commiserating look.

“Do you like him?” 

Luka made a face. “No. I didn’t like him at all, to be honest. I can’t really say why, he didn’t do anything to make me dislike him. He was perfectly…fine.” Luka wrinkled his nose. 

“But you can’t stand him,” Dingo cackled. 

“I really can’t,” Luka laughed uneasily along with him. “I don’t think he cares much about other people.” Luka shook his head. “But neither does Juleka, and that doesn’t mean she’s cold or that she can’t care about other people. She just only opens up to her little circle. Maybe Felix is like that.” He sighed, leaning back on his bed and folding his hands over his eyes. “I hope Marinette knows what she’s doing,” he muttered. 

“What’s that mean?” Dingo asked sharply.

Luka shook his head without moving his hands. “Nothing. Felix just seems like somebody you have to watch your back around, that’s all.” That calculating look lingered in Luka’s mind and made him shudder. “I’m probably just being paranoid,” he mumbled. 

Dingo snorted and there was a shuffling sound. “Luka, you know people. If you think the guy’s bad news, I doubt it’s paranoia. You liked golden boy well enough even though Mari was hot for him. I don’t know how you do it but you just get people.” 

I thought I did, Luka mused, still not moving. I thought I knew Marinette better than anyone and I still read everything wrong with her. Maybe I’m not as smart as I thought I was. Maybe I’ve just been lucky up until now. Or maybe I’m just getting out of touch with other people, with the tour and everything. Hm. 

There wasn’t anything he could do about it, anyway. If Marinette wanted his opinion about Felix, she would ask. 

Luka frowned. It was kind of odd that she hadn’t asked, actually. She often asked him for his take on people, though he’d never thought much about it before. He was also rather surprised to hear that she was following his career on the news. She had always called him directly before to find out what was going on. Sure, they hadn’t been able to connect much lately, but if she wanted to talk he always—

Suddenly he bounced up off the bed and fell back with an oof as something heavy hit the mattress next to him. “Cheer up, mate,” Dingo said, propping himself up on one elbow as Luka turned to face him. “The tour’s going great, the label’s talking about another album. Wesley’s actually setting up autograph sessions for us.” Dingo giggled. 

“Don’t call Yann that, Wesley was terrible,” Luka groaned. “At least call him Giles if you have to be a prick.” 

Dingo grinned. “I’m just saying if Lucy—” 

“She hates when you call her that.” 

“—gave your pet nerd the go ahead for stuff like that then we must be doing all right.”

Luka thought back to his last check-in with Lucille and smiled. “Yeah,” he admitted, trying not to let his smile grow too big. “We’re doing all right. We might actually make some money off this circus.” 

Dingo whooped, shoving himself up off the bed. “Well fuck all this mopey shit, then, we’ve got the night off, let’s get the gang and go celebrate.” 

Luka groaned, but Dingo grabbed his arm and dragged him off the bed, without bothering to lift him, so that Luka only narrowly saved himself from flopping face-first onto the floor. “All right, you ass,” Luka laughed, getting from his knees to his feet. “Just go easy, I’m not looking to end the night with a fight over who gets the toilet and who gets the sink.” 

“We need more scandal,” Dingo complained, shoving his boots on his feet. “If at least one of us doesn’t get arrested before this tour is over we’re not going to have any street cred at all.” 

“At least we have money for bail now,” Luka commented absently, taking one more look at his phone before slipping it into his pocket. “Where were you thinking?” 

Even laughing and drinking with his friends, Luka couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling he’d gotten during the call with Marinette and Felix.

When they stumbled back to the hotel room, Luka let himself sink into a chair while Dingo loudly claimed the bathroom, and stared into the darkness. The buzz of the drink was wearing off—he’d learned long ago to pace himself so he wouldn’t be useless the next day. 

Brooding in the dark, Luka made a difficult decision. He pulled out his phone, scrolled through the contacts, and then paused to check the time in Paris.

With a sigh through his nose, Luka pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, rubbing his eyes as he listened to it ring.

Predictably, it went to voicemail. Adrien was hard to get a hold of even when you were his friend, and after New Years, Luka wouldn’t really blame him if he was ignoring Luka’s call.

“Hey, Adrien, it’s Luka,” he said, trying not to think too hard about his words. “Listen, I get it if you don’t want to talk to me, but if you’re willing, give me a call when you get a chance. I’m just—well, I’m a little worried about Marinette and I wanted to ask a couple questions about your cousin. Like I said, no pressure, but if you feel like giving me a call back I’d really appreciate it.”

He shut his mouth tight to keep from spewing anything else and hung up. It wasn’t the first time he’d swallowed his pride by any means, but it still tasted bitter. He just hoped Adrien would actually call him back.

Fiction Master Post

[vincess-princess]

as we were falling

formerly untitled

ch. 3

a/n: do you like the title? idk if this idea is going anywhere but i felt bad leaving it nameless

warnings: take a wild guess (violence, piss mention)

word count: 1777

“It’s full,” Tommy said, plopping down onto Nikki’s mattress. “Heaping, even.”

“Damn it.” Nikki squeezed his knees tighter, agony on his face. “When are they gonna empty it? I’m dying here, man.”

“They usually do it after breakfast.”

“Breakfast was hours ago. Any chance they’re gonna do it today?”

“Eh…”

“So no.”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. One bucket for twenty captives definitely wasn’t enough, even when emptied regularly, and when it wasn’t… things got stinky. Nikki, still chained to the wall (Tommy couldn’t look at the red stripe of irritated skin underneath the ring of the handcuff without shuddering), couldn’t even make trips there, so the bucket instead made trips to him – with Tommy’s help.

Now, though, he couldn’t risk lifting it without splashing the contents all across the floor. The room already smelled worse than an underground bar toilet, and Tommy thought nothing could beat that. The first assumption his new life proved wrong, he thought grimly.

“We’re already drowning in shit, and now they decide to make it literal,” Nikki grumbled. “God, I’d love to splash it on their faces. Shower them in shit. Unite them with their kind, so to say.”

For a second Tommy indulged himself on imagining the guards’ faces if it happened. Or, rather, their shrieking and yelling – they couldn’t see their faces behind the helmets, after all. It was no great loss – helped somewhat, even. It made it easier to believe that those were some aliens, evil minions, androids, whatever – not real, regular people like them and Nikki for whom what they were doing was a job just as much as cleaning tables in a café was for Tommy. They did it for a living, probably had families they came home to. Did they ever tell them stories from work? “So this one captive today threw up on the boots of my buddy Jackson and we electrocuted her for fifteen seconds for that”?

“Hey?” he heard Nikki’s voice. Then he snapped his fingers in front of Tommy’s face. “Ground control to major Tom. Can you hear me?”

Tommy slapped his hand away. “Don’t interrupt me. I am speaking that into existence.”

Nikki huffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, master wizard. Of course, keep on weaving your spells. I’ll be here, peeing my pants quietly.”

“Well, what else can I do?” Tommy threw his hands up. “I’m already running back and forth with this bucket for Your Majesty to shit in three times a day. You could show a little gratitude.”

“I’m very grateful,” Nikki said seriously, but the force with which he pressed his hand to his chest gave out a taunt. “It doesn’t help my problem, though.”

“I’m not giving you my cup.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of that, but now that you mentioned it…” Nikki began eyeing Tommy’s cup hungrily. Tommy moved it farther back so that Nikki couldn’t reach it.

“You have no soul.” Nikki crossed his arms on his chest, but didn’t really pull off the offended face, only prompting Tommy to laugh. “You cruel, cruel bastard. What am I to do? Piss on the floor? Or hold it in and explode from too much pee?”

“You know,” Tommy looked at the floor with renewed interest, “it’s already dirty… wouldn’t hurt much.”

Nikki threw his head back and laughed. “We really getting desperate here, aren’t we? By the way,” he suddenly changed the topic, “when’s dinner?”

“Not sure,” Tommy said, confused. “It’s hard to track time here, you know. But… I’d say, in about half an hour.”

“Great. It won’t dry off by then.” Nikki said, whipped out his dick and peed right into the passage between the two rows of mattresses. “They always pass through here,” he grinned, shoved his dick back into his pants and returned to his place. Tommy and a dozen other captives watched the urine lazily flowing along the passage.

Tommy turned to Nikki and was met with a beaming smile.

“You really have no limits, man,” he said.

“The sky is the limit,” Nikki declared pompously. “And also it was the only place I could reach. But, as they say, two birds with one stone! They’ll have to walk along the passage, there’s not enough space between mattresses for the trolley. And my bladder isn’t tearing apart. I say, we’ve got a good deal.”

Thousands of objections began running through Tommy’s head until they became background noise. Yes, it will get their asses kicked, but it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Besides, he wanted to hear the guards’ screams when they realized what they were walking on. Maybe it will get them to empty the bucket in time, too.

“Yeah,” Tommy grinned back. “Maybe it will teach them a lesson.”

Over the next half an hour three captives tried to demand they wipe the piss down, but to no avail. Nikki smiled at them with his brand smile – all sharp teeth and a crazy gleam in his eyes – and Tommy offered them to do it themselves if they disliked it so much, which none of them rushed to do. The urine persisted until the guards arrived with a trolley full of nutrient paste.

As expected, they didn’t look down. As expected, they heard the splash when it was already too late.

“Who the hell spilled water here?” one of the guards looked around the room. Everybody averted their gazes. “One of us could slip on that! If that happens again we’ll remove the washbowl and ration your water too!”

“Guys,” another said, “is it just me or does it smell like piss in here?”

Tommy and Nikki exchanged looks. It was increasingly hard not to laugh.

“Of course it does. The bucket’s heaping.” And they all laughed, the sound muffled by their helmets but nonetheless disgusting.

They began throwing packages with the paste at the captives, not really bothering to aim, but even when a package hit someone’s head, no one dared to say a word. Seeing people so beaten into humiliation and obedience was revolting, but also Tommy knew what they would get were they to act up, and he understood them. After all, when it’s a choice between dignity and survival, every normal person would choose the latter.

Nikki, by these standards, was straight-up bonkers, because he never once lowered his gaze even when black helmets turned right towards him. His sheer recklessness infected Tommy, because every time the piss splashed under the guards’ boots he couldn’t hold back a smile.

Eventually it attracted attention.

“What’s so funny, you pipsqueak?” One of the guards poked him in the shoulder with a bat.

“Nothing,” Tommy said quickly, staring at the guard’s wet boot traces on the floor.

“Bullshit!” The bat poked him harder. “You find something here funny? Tell us, we want to laugh too.”

Other guards began turning around and looking themselves over suspiciously. Tommy waited with bated breath for them to discover they were standing in piss.

“You see,” he began, “sometimes things are not what they seem. Not all that’s liquid is gold, but sometimes… it is.”

“What the hell does that mean? What liquid?” The guard looked down and Tommy could almost see his face falling. “Is this- is this-“

“That’s fucking piss! I said it smells like piss! I said it!” another one screamed, trying to wipe the soles of his boots on the floor. Tommy could only hope Nikki’s piss was acidic enough to leave those boots smelly for at least a little while after. “He peed in the fucking aisle!”

“You bastard!” the guard growled, grabbing Tommy by the scruff of his robe and single-handedly pulling him onto his feet. “You son of a bitch!” He pushed Tommy in the middle of the room towards the other guards. Tommy could bet their faces were creased with anger, and a chill went down his spine.

“Look at ‘im! He did it on purpose!” The one who smelled the piss jumped forward and raised the bat over his head. Then it collided with Tommy’s shoulder, and he almost dropped onto his knees, his vision for a second going white.

“Hey! Hey! He didn’t do it!” he heard from behind his back. Dammit, Nikki. “I did it! Leave him alone! I did it!”

The second blow never got there. All the guards turned towards Nikki.

“You?” one of them said.

“Me.” Nikki grinned back. “You should’ve sent someone to empty the bucket.”

Tommy watched the guards unchain him, but only to drag him to the middle of the room, push him onto his knees and zap him with two shockers at once, one in the chest and one in the hip. About twelve seconds into this Nikki must have blacked out, because he stopped screaming. The guards dragged him back to his mattress and dropped his lifeless body there, the knees of his robe soaked with urine.

“You knew he pissed there,” a guard said then to Tommy. “You knew and didn’t tell us.”

He got zapped too – later he figured out that he got an easier deal with just one shocker, though at the moment it was hard to tell with electricity seemingly disintegrating his body tissues. He was dropped on the floor right where he stood.

“You all knew,” he heard a guard say to the captives through ringing in his ears. “You all knew and said nothing, you spineless sacks of shit. You ain’t getting any dinner today. Give that back!”

It took Tommy some time to come around, and when he crawled back to his mattress, Nikki had only just awakened, his eyes still foggy and unfocused, a thread of saliva hanging from his half-open mouth.

“Man, you look like shit,” Tommy croaked.

Nikki only made an unintelligible groan in response, but Tommy knew he said something along the lines of “you ain’t no better”. Which, fair.

He laid down on his mattress, trying to combat the nausea that always came with electric shock. When one wanted to puke his guts out so badly, getting deprived of dinner didn’t seem half as bad. The captives probably didn’t agree, but none of them dared to express their discontent verbally – for now, at least.

Soon Nikki tried to raise his head and sit up. The guards forgot to chain him back, so he could finally use both his arms. Well, at least something good came out of this whole mess.

“Man,” he heard Nikki’s hoarse voice, “that was hella fun.”

And, despite his body hurting all over and his pants soaked in piss, Tommy could hardly disagree with him. At least now the guards knew they could get back at them – in their own way.

[sulettaofficial]

Thinking back on the Cradle Planet mini web novel, specifically the scene where Aerial is begging Suletta to bail TF outta going to school, and then Suletta utters The Phrase™, and Aerial is suddenly on board with the idea. I can't help but think, just how deep does the brainwashing go?

Hey, first of all, you're my first ask anon! Congrats! <3

Second of all, this turned into a much longer post than I expected and I'm so sorry

TL;DR I think she's conditioned in a way where "you move forward, you gain two." makes her susceptible to doing what someone says after hearing it.

Link to the novel for anyone who hasn't read it yet. Here.

Honestly the novel is kind of wild in a sense. If I'm doing my math right (since I'm on Firefox - thanks Tumblr - it doesn't say "x out of y" when you ctrl + f) there's like four instances of "gain two", which is a lot more than any episode, I think. (It's usually like only one usage of it in an episode, right?? Maybe two at most???)

It just kinda feels like the author is really trying to signify the importance of The Phrase™. Also, the use of words like "spell" and "mom's words are powerful" are...significant, imo. I'm being conspiratorial, I know.

RE that scene, Aerial responds with

>I'm surprised. >Suletta says she isn't going to run.

Aerial has been Suletta's safe space this whole time on Mercury. You'd think that Aerial would know what Suletta's reaction to school would be, and given Suletta's behavior in the anime and the web novel, it sounds more accurate for her to bail. Suletta even acknowledges this to some extent!!

S: "I'm scared. Mercury is all I know, and Mom said she won't be able to go with me." A: You don't have to be Mom's tool. You don't have to take on someone else's curse. S: "Should I decline? If I go, I mustn't fail. Enrollment costs money, and I don't want to embarrass her. What should I do?"

AND THEN SHE SAYS THE PHRASE. And Aerial's response? Literally just

>!

But what makes it even better is that apparently Suletta just. Didn't hear Aerial??

>A: She can't have heard my voice, but Suletta speaks as if responding to me. >S: "If you run, gain one…"

Why would Suletta not hear Aerial? She always does! Except when she says this phrase.

And Prospera has been using this phrase since she was five, just to get her to get an "injection" (I'm assuming a vaccine, since we haven't really had any foreshadowing with Elan about Enhanced People needing anything like an immune-suppressant or anything). So clearly she's been conditioned since a very young age.

Considering the Elan's behaviors (if I remember correctly, Elan 4 was the first Elan that she encountered?), it doesn't sound like they have any Sleeper Phrase. It's more so that they're coerced with promises than psychological conditioning.

And to go back to the anime, when she's talking with her mom her reactions - before the phrase - are this

She's fidgety and horrified.

Prospera says The Phrase

I don't have it as a gif, but then her eyes move back and forth

And then while shaking, she says this

Back to the novel, with the school scene.

Aerial tries to reassure her, Suletta is unsure, then she says the phrase to herself and we get this line

>"You know what, Aerial? If we move forward, we'll gain lots of things--not just two. I'll study, of course, make friends, find mentors, and maybe go on dates!"

It sounds like every time The Phrase is used, someone - her mom, herself - needs to sort of talk her into it still. It seems like The Phrase instills some sense of confidence in her, sure. But it also makes her more susceptible to what someone says.

And hey, am I remembering this correctly? Isn't there a scene in one of the episodes where someone - I feel like it was Miorine? - says "You move forward, you gain two, right?" and then Suletta Does A Thing??

I think she's conditioned to be more confident in herself with whatever someone says after saying "If you run you gain one, if you move forward you gain two." She's not quite like a Cyber Newtype where you have Four out there going "THE ZETA GUNDAM IS MY ENEMY!" It's more subtle than that. She needs someone (apparently even herself) to talk her into doing something. And I'm guessing that she can talk herself into things because of all the times her mom says "You move forward, you gain two." and then goes on to be like "Suletta, you'll be really cool and people will like you and this is important and I love you and you're really really great and stuff." that it's just become a normal response to her to just do the thing. So she says "you move forward, you gain two." and then just naturally falls into "Okay, now here's the part where I tell myself to do the thing."

[norosesnolife]

I posted 1,443 times in 2022

101 posts created (7%)

1,342 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@campyvillain

@transnashton

@pinwheelwhirl

@phoenix-the-mistfit-fire-bird

I tagged 1,441 of my posts in 2022

#reblog - 1,329 posts

#*fav - 240 posts

#riddler - 155 posts

#voidtalks - 102 posts

#important - 94 posts

#*fav fav fav - 45 posts

#gasa4sc spoilers - 17 posts

#&lt;3 - 17 posts

#sing spoilers - 8 posts

#sonic 2 spoilers - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i love the silly little memes of dano! riddler but in all seriousness this type of thing can and has happened in real life and it’s. bad.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

58 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#4

Stuck In This Moment

A short, fluffy story loosely based on the amazing ‘After Red Shore’ by @sassyphoenixsblog - Go give them some support!! As well, do not tag any of this as shipping, it’s strictly platonic family stuff, thanks! <3

A firm paw ruffled the fur atop Buster’s head, causing the koala to laugh in both discomfort and pride- Was Crystal really that proud of him? It seemed too good to be true! Following after Jimmy Crystal, Buster smiled enthusiastically,

“I assure you, Mr. Crystal, this performance will blow you out of this world! It’s going to be… no, it is my best show yet! A-And the cast, well, they’re all doing terrific, even Porcha, she-“

The wolf paused in his strides, and it felt like all the warmth of before had been drained completely from the room. He turned, an icy blue eye glaring down at the koala.

“Don’t you remember, Moon? You fired Porcha from your show.”

Voice a low growl, Buster barely had time to react before Crystal had grabbed the back of his shirt, lifting him up into the air.

“W-Wait!! I never fired her!! S-She still has a role in m- our show!!”

The koala frantically searched for ground, before realizing that the hallway had disappeared from beneath his feet, leaving him dangling several thousand feet above Redshore City. Panic coursed through his veins, hands grasping at the cuffs of Crystal’s shirts, he was helpless. 

“You’re nothing but a spineless little loser, Moon, it’s a wonder how you made it so far. But now? I’m gonna have to let you go.”

Crystal’s voice echoed in his head, and suddenly, Buster was falling at a whirling pace, voice torn from his throat by the wind that whipped at his fur. 

And then, he woke up.

Covered in a cold sweat, the koala gasped for air, his throat sore- most likely due to the screams he had exclaimed during his unconscious terror. Trembling, he put a paw to his chest, clutching the fabric of his blue pyjamas. It was just another nightmare... 

It had been several weeks since the events that had transpired at Redshore City, yet Buster could not get over what had nearly happened to him. Jimmy Crystal, who had sponsored their newest show, had tried to kill him. Twice. Despite the fact that the wolf was now in jail for his murderous attempts, Buster still found himself jumping at every little noise, consumed with nightmares that affected his sleep, not to mention, he was now acutely terrified of most large animals, more than he used to be.

Rocking back and forth in his bed, Buster tried to calm himself, but the sound of knocking on his office door brought him back to that state of panic. His breathing quickened, body freezing in utter terror as he stared, wide-eyed, at the stairs leading from his office to his makeshift apartment.

“Moon? You awake?”

A familiar raspy voice broke the spell, his ears perking up in surprise and slight relief.

“Ash?”

He tumbled out of bed, still shaking enough that he managed to trip over a few of the stairs, and opened the door. 

Sure enough, the young porcupine had been the one to knock on the door, Clay Calloway right behind her, carrying two guitar cases. Buster managed a tired smile, tucking his trembling hands behind his back.

“Ash! What are you doing here? Not to mention how late it is..”

“We wanted to run some lyrics by you, Clay said you might be awake, working on some new project, or something.”

She didn’t like how his eyes couldn’t keep their focus, flitting from object to object in an anxious pattern. When had he last slept? 

“Oh? Well, c-come on in then, I’ll get some tea boiling!”

Smiling as enthusiastically as he could, Buster let the two inside, but Clay put a hand on his shoulder, causing the smaller animal to flinch.

“Ash, get the tea, will you? I wanna talk to Moon.”

Once she had left, the old lion sat Buster down, looking at him with the sort of knowing expression he normally wore. The dim light of a table lamp made his face look softer, more worn.

Fidgeting anxiously in his seat, Buster couldn’t make eye contact, instead choosing to look down at the floor.

“Moon. You’ve been distant for the last few weeks, and everyone’s noticed. You’re like me, don’t like t’ talk about yourself, but whatever’s going on with you, you need to let people help, otherwise it’ll eat you alive.”

Clay’s voice faltered for a moment, he was speaking from experience. After having spent so many years alone, without the will to properly grieve Ruby, it had felt like a breath of fresh air to suddenly be surrounded with a group that was willing to support him. He had Ash to thank for that, she was like a granddaughter to him, and he was thankful every day for the way she saved him.

See the full post

76 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

#3

THE WAY SHE SAYS “What a lot of Hoovers! :)” MAKES ME GIGGLE EVERY TIME.

83 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#2

Burghley….

87 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

*THIS KOALA

*IS AUTISTIC AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT

128 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 288, Replies Part 1

1) “Last time we had OfA cast the spell of GTFO on AfO, and then Toga got all philosophical and it got a bit sad… Anyway, let us get started, because I want to see where that one is gonna end at. This is Chapter 288: Save Takeo!!”-Chapter should have been titled “Save Toga”, because that’s what she’s really asking Uraraka, but then I guess we wouldn’t be having the miscommunication between them that’s sparking further conflict. 

2) “Machia is truly an unstoppable force in action, that’s a mountain going 100km/h through a city, jesus fuck man, we would seriously need an All Might-level of power to keep him down.”-The problem with facing Machia is that the only person who can actually give him a standard fight is already being targeted by AFO and Tomura both-in-one, so there’s really no chance for Izuku to help out against the mass devastation he’s causing as a side-effect of him just trying to reach his master ASAP

3) “Five? Try twenty. Really, there’s no amount of distance that would make it safe. The End is here, and Machia won’t stop until he reaches it.”- They can try and run towards Machia, away from him, or avoid him, but either way, the malice of the master he serves so blindly will find you out one way or another. Like, even if they stopped Machia by some miracle, he’s already caused so much destruction and damage getting here that many cities may not recover at all, assuming things even get better from this chaotic melee. 4) “I have a feeling that there’s one fiery guy up there that wouldn’t agree with that line of thought. I bet he’s giggling right as we speak.”- The juxtaposition of this hero on the ground level acting genuinely selflessly heroic and Dabi’s scornful dismissal of the ideology of heroes actually holding up, based on Hawks’ necessary murder of Twice, underscores his own hypocrisy. There’s somebody in this mess who just wants to help save people, and he thinks it’s nothing but the ranting of a brainwashed populace who think too highly of the humans who dub themselves “heroes”. 5) “Oh right, you were here as well, I almost forgot it.

Also, thank you captain obvious, it’s not like you could’ve looked over your shoulder and see an army of them approaching from all sides.”- Sceptic is not the flashiest member of the MLA, but his computing skills and ability to undermine communications between different teams mean that he’s the perfect guy to help out with what Dabi has in mind… 6) “OH I DON’T EVEN NEED TO ZOOM IN TO SEE WHO COMPRESS SAW

ITS URARAKA AND TSUYU, RIGHT THERE ON THE LEFT CORNER

THEY ARE CLOSE, AND TOGA KNOWS IT”- That Compress noticed them and helped point them out to Toga, despite the League needing all hands on deck at present, just because he knows how much she’s thinking about them and needs to have a conversation with them after Twice’s passing, shows he’s a good team player. He could have intentionally hidden their location to make sure Toga was sticking by their side when they plunged forth into the melee with Tomura, but instead he not only aids her, but gives her his blessing to go resolve her personal issues with them, merely asking her to come back safely alongside Spinner. Like, these guys may be villains, presently culpable in mass slaughter through riding Machia, but they are truly ride or die for each other, sans Dabi, who’s finally letting his true colours show through…. 7) “Alright, Toga is equipped, and ready to deploy. Something tells me that she doesn’t plan to come back, one way or another. It feels like that with Shigaraki awakening under the control of AfO and Twice dying, that the league is, subtly, approaching its End.”- On the other hand, where else could Toga go? Sure, she doesn’t know about AFO hijacking Tomura, and that’ll put a downer on her mood as well when she finds that out, but both Compress and Spinner have her back as well, so Toga does have somebody to look after in the League still left to return to. Even if the whole world demonises her, those two have still stuck by her, so she knows she can rely on them even at her lowest point. 8) “Mr. Dadpress was not something I was expecting to see now, shame we hadn’t more of it before this fateful moment. Toga is going, she needs answers, and she’s willing to die to get them. She can’t live with this doubt, with this fear. She must know.

And, once she does, she’ll decide what path she shall take. Either on her own, or back to the league.”- I assume that Dadpress really honed his parental skills whilst Tomura was undergoing the surgery, given how Loopy Twice was and Toga needing somebody to look after her from the near-death beating she received. Even if he’s not a powerhouse member of the League, in Tomura’s absence he’s the one standing up to hold them all together, physically and emotionally. In contrast to Dabi and his mysterious nature hiding the fact he genuinely doesn’t feel the team vibes with the league, we still knw very little about Compress, but the fact he’s a full-on supporter of the younger members through thick and thin has come through loud and clearly, 9) “Well fuck you too Dabi, not like I was expecting much more from you by this point. You are on the brink of getting what you want, the rest of the league has outlived their utility I suppose.”- Dabi’s about ready to kick the show off, and there’s nothing that could really impede him now. With or without the league, he’s got everything he needs to get the ball rolling, so it doesn’t matter to him if one or two of them jump ship before the Curtains rise. 10) “Well, it seems like it’s only one person in this group that isn’t feeling the loss of Twice, now that Spinner stepped forward to talk. He knows he can’t stop her from leaving, but he can’t let her going without saying that he also misses their friend; regardless of being villains, they were friends, they were family.”- The league becoming each other’s support and therapy group is a beautiful thing to witness, even if it’s tinted by tragedy over how this, while well-intentioned, only allows the re-enforcement of their worst traits. Like, they let Toga run off and face down Uraraka, without giving her some advice on how to properly express herself to the young hero the way the League members know Toga, which contributes to the mis-communication issues. 11) “I would say he’s definitely more interested in that than Dabi, but it’s not that much more. Still, I bet he won’t take Twice’s death lightly, we saw how he reacted to Magne.

There will be retribution, especially now that he has the power to do so”- Well, that’s entirely dependent on if it’s still Tomura in charge by the time they get there… 12) “OH BOY, NOW LETS SEE HOW URARAKA IS HANDLING THIS

SHORT ANSWER: NOT THAT WELLTHAT THING IS COMING AND THERE’S NO WAY TO EITHER STOP IT, OR TO SAVE THE PEOPLE ON HIS WAY”-The oncoming destruction visible in the background, the streets  seemingly absent of civilians to save, but you just know that there’s people hiding in the buildings somewhere, hoping and praying that they won’t be swept up in the damage, and unintentionally lowering their chances of being saved in time.

13) “At the very least they are not part of the Prometheus school of running away, and they are moving out of his path rather than trying to outrun him, but honestly, it doesn’t help that much. He’s causing a big wave of destruction around his path, and like the heroes said, debris is being thrown rather far.”- Machia’s not even trying to cause damage, he’s just lifting the buildings out the way to make his passage easier, showing much the same disregard of civilian casualties that Dabi does. He doesn’t intend to harm them, but he prioritises his own aims over the wellbeing of others, unlike heroes, which in this case gives him an advantage, and is why the villains can pressure the heroes despite the numbers disadvantage. They were disregarded by society, so now the shoes on the other foot, they’re not holding back. 

@thelreads

[yet-another-heathen]

These provide some pretty comprehensive overviews of what Project 2025 entails. But if you read through and find yourself not quite able to believe that all these things really are being pushed for, the entire document is available here for the public to read.

I know that conservatives have difficulty grasping why the rest of us are reacting to the election as though the results will kill us. You can't imagine the democrats putting forth laws to strip you of every right you have, let alone it actually working. You can't imagine knowing that when that happens, the hope is that it will prevent you and the people you love from existing at all— down to preventing us from even being mentioned in law books or historical records.

Even just reading that last sentence sounds overblown and insane, right? Surely it's an exaggeration?

No, it isn't. That much is spelled out in the legal documents above, along with exactly how it will be done. [If you skipped over those links, now is the time to go back and view them. The first is a 3 min video, and the second takes approximately 1 min to read.]

Worse than that, this document spells out how they plan to shift all levels of government to ensure that, even after these four years of presidency, it will be as hard as possible for us to gain back our rights for the next several DECADES, even if we win the presidency in the future. This election decided how the majority of the rest of our lives will play out.

I am a trans man (and, for the record, a disabled veteran who will be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life as a result of my service to my country), living in a red state. My partner, as well as many of my closest friends, are also disabled, queer, and/or women who will be directly affected by the end of no-fault divorce and complete lack of access to contraception and healthcare.

I am not only going to lose my own rights, I am going to have to watch the people I love most in this world have them taken away, too.

I know for you, the matter of who wins or loses the election is a matter of inconvenience and discomfort, at worse. That's the way it should be, for ALL of us. (Including those outside the country who will be affected by this election anyway.)

But that is not what this is. Not for minorities. Not for people like me.

We need time to grieve the fact that the rights and freedoms we expected to live the rest of our lives with are about to be lost. We need time to figure out how to keep our loved ones safe, when leaving isn't an option. We need time to process the fact that, when inconvenience was weighed against our right to be alive, we lost.

Political post ahead, and given this is a site that is (I would say) dominantly Democratic/left/"woke," if you don't want to read commentary from a Republican/conservative/"traditionalist," I completely understand, but this is your warning.

Just dropped (albeit somewhat accidentally) into a Tumblr community about Animation, and what should I see than the first several posts being about the US election and about saying Fie upon Donald Trump. And while I genuinely feel for people who have legitimate fear over him taking up the US Presidency, I also find myself a little bit baffled to see people think the world is going to spontaneously combust if he takes office again.

Yes, I will have my own share of concern if Kamala Harris takes office, and while I don't expect things to get any better than they were under the Biden administration, I'm also not screaming-crying-throwing up over the idea. It makes me uncomfortable, but only because her ideology differs from mine, and it's difficult to be comfortable with things we don't agree with.

Long story short, I genuinely wish peace upon anyone, on any part of the political spectrum, who is facing extreme anxiety over the outcome of the election. I also hope you take a breath and realize it's not the end of the world. Please do yourself that service. You're worth the peace, baberino 🙏

[mirclealignr]

HOW YOUR FIRST KISS WITH THE MARAUDERS + CO. WOULD GO ;

requested by anon—i hope you like it <3

James Potter ;

James would probably go down a traditional route.

He’d know immediately that he liked you and wouldn’t waste any time in asking you out, hoping desperately that you’d accept.

He’d take you on a simple date, probably to Hogsmeade where you’d walk around together, going into any of the shops you wanted to.

James would most likely insist he bought you something, anything, really—he just wanted to buy you something.

But there wouldn’t be anything you wanted enough that you couldn’t pay for yourself—like some sweets from Honeydukes.

He’d definitely take you to the Three Broom Sticks and sit you down in a little booth in the corner.

He’d flirt with you, laugh with you and exchange funny stories, enjoying every second of it, more than he thought he could.

You’d catch yourself staring one too many times, tuning out his words and focussing only on the way his mouth moved.

After the date was over, he’d walk you back to your dorm, his hand tucked into yours.

Having your back to your dorm room door, you’d smile sweetly, focussing on how close he was and the thumb rubbing lightly against your knuckles.

After a moment, the movement would stop and he’d untangle his fingers from yours, brining one hand up to your face.

He’d lean in slowly, waiting to see if you might move in closer too.

When you started to lean in, he’d quickly catch his lips with yours, pushing you back against the door and cupping your face in both hands.

Eventually, you’d pull away reluctantly, staring at him breathlessly. Another quick peck to the lips and you’d say goodnight.

His hand would remain perched on the doorframe as you closed the door behind you, resting on it once more with a smile on your face and fingers tracing over your lips.

On the other side, James’ forehead would be rested against the door before he turned around slowly and saw Sirius at the top of the stairs grinning from ear to ear.

“Enjoyed that, then?”

James would laugh, but wouldn’t deny it, of course.

Remus Lupin ;

Remus would probably have a hard time working up the courage to kiss you.

There’d be so many times he came close but backed out at the last minute, fearing you might back away and laugh at him.

It would be a running joke with his friends, including bets being made on when he’d finally manage to do it.

They’d always be very encouraging too though, because they weren’t as blind as Remus.

It would finally happen on a normal day, doing something completely ordinary and usual for you—maybe studying in the library for an assignment due in.

He’d glance at you from the corner of his eyes, finding it hard to concentrate when you were right there, sitting next to him, close to him.

Merlin he’d be a mess, shifting in his seat, incessantly tapping his quill and making countless spelling mistakes.

You’d be aware of it all, trying not to react in case it made him more nervous, but it would be getting ridiculous.

He’d only be nervous around you at certain times and you couldn’t understand why, or what was so important about those times.

You’d get his attention by staring at him, waiting for him to explain himself.

“What?”

He’d barely be able to hold eye contact until you said his name softer than anyone had said it before, at which point he’d be caught in a stare.

“Rem, I’m going to do something, okay?”

He’d simply nod, wishing it might be what he’d been trying to do for weeks now.

You’d lean in close, looking him in the eye and then darting down to his lips. You’d wet yours with your tongue before looking him in the eye again.

Remus would keep eye contact, afraid that if he looked away he might wake up from a dream.

Your lips would be soft against his, and immediately his hands would cup your jaw, bringing your closer and falling in deeper.

His eyebrows would scrunch together as his lips moved against yours, and even after he pulled away.

Remus wouldn’t be able to wipe the smile from his face as he walked into the dorm he shared with James, Sirius and Peter.

He wouldn’t be able to get the feeling of you out of his head the whole way there.

“So you did it then?”

“Actually, they did.”

James would groan loudly, pushing his face into his pillow while Sirius laughed heartily.

“Pay up, fool.”

Still planted into his pillow, James would slam his hand down on the table beside his bed and throw some money at Sirius.

Sirius Black ;

Sirius would be a wreck for days; he couldn’t understand what he was feeling and wouldn’t given himself enough time to figure it out.

If he ignored it, it might go away.

But you wouldn’t.

It took him some time to realise that the feeling was attached to you, like invisible string had tied his heart around your finger.

He’d kissed people before, sure, but he couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to kiss you—he was almost afraid.

He’d have half a mind to bury the feeling and you along with it, friendship gone and forgotten about.

But he couldn’t do that, he wanted you too much. He needed you.

Out in the courtyard was where he’d asked you to meet him via a little note beside your bed.

He’d wait there, pacing back and forth and then sitting down while his leg bobbed up and down.

He wouldn’t hear you approach, his thoughts too thunderous to hear anything outside of them.

The tap on his shoulder would startle him, until he realised it was you.

He’d try to talk, to explain things and what was going on with him and why things seemed different.

In fact, you’d be surprised Sirius wanted to meet you anywhere, he’d been oddly distant lately, but not in a cruel way.

Almost in a way that suggested he was frightened.

He’d sigh, “You know I can’t talk about things.”

He’d link his pinky with yours, looking down to the stone pavement you were standing on.

You’d reach up and brush the hair from his face, smiling up encouragingly.

He wouldn’t be able to take it anymore—you were so gentle, so patient and he needed to tell you, or show you.

He’d lean in quickly, his lips just skimming yours, but he’d wait there, close and asking.

When you didn’t move, he’d close that extra inch, gliding his lips over yours almost desperately.

His hands would roam from your waist, up your back and along your jaw, aching to just hold you.

He knew then that the feeling would never go away, but he wouldn’t mind it so much anymore.

Lily Evans ;

It wouldn’t even be a thought for Lily, it would probably happen by accident.

You’d be sitting against a tree on the grounds of Hogwarts, reading or just talking and soaking in the sun.

You’d have said something funny, something that made Lily laugh more than she had done in a while.

She’d turn her head against the tree trunk and watch you laugh and how there were crinkles beside your eyes.

She’d watch how your cheeks plumped as your smiled stretched further.

After a minute, her smile would fade as she continued to stare at you as if the world was about to implode and she had to look at you and memorise everything before it was too late.

It was intense, she could feel it in her stomach, her heart. But she’d push it down when you looked at her, careful not to reveal everything too soon.

And when your eyes met hers, she’d just…kiss you, like it was the most normal thing to do in the world.

It felt like it was, but it also felt new and exciting—a rush would wash over her, making he slightly dizzy.

She was drunk with the thought and feel of you.

It would be a quick reciprocation from you after you realised what was happening.

Your hands would tangle into her brazen hair, and for that moment on a sunny day under the cover of green leaves, everything would be utterly perfect.

Lily would smile against your lips, unable to hold in the happiness she was feeling that it was all real.

Resting her forehead on yours, she’d sigh contently, and you’d stay that way for a minute or two, just soaking up the image of each other.

The wind would pick up, blowing a strand of hair across Lily’s eyes, so you’d brush it away, tucking it behind her ear.

Taking the opportunity, you’d kiss her cheek, slowly moving across to her nose and back down to her lips where you’d give her a quick peck.

Lily would laugh, eliciting your laugh once more before she pulled you flush against her and dropped to the soft grass below.

Marlene Mckinnon ;

Marlene would know she liked you pretty quickly. She’d know herself and what she wanted.

And oddly enough, for Marlene, it would be harder to approach the subject than she thought.

Usually she’d have no problems going after what she wanted, but with you she seemed to stumble a little bit more.

Instead of looking or trying to create the perfect moment or the perfect way to ask you out or kiss you, she’d decide just to wait and see what happened.

When the right moment came to her, she’d know.

It would probably just be a normal evening, just you and her talking together in your dorm or the common room.

No one else would be around, which both you and Marlene would always take advantage of when it happened.

She’d be watching you talk rather than listening.

How your mouth moved and how sometimes, when you weren’t sure how to put your thoughts into words, you’d bite your lip.

How your hands moved with the plot of the story, signalling when you were happy, angry or for an action of something you were describing.

You’d probably catch yourself, realising Marlene wasn’t really paying attention and apologising for talking too much.

Marlene would laugh, telling you there was no such thing and encouraging you to carry on.

And she’d realise right there, that it was the moment she’d been waiting for.

She’d been sat admiring you and almost didn’t notice how perfect the moment was to finally kiss you.

“Y/N.”

It would sound soft, almost lazy, and you’d immediately quieten down, staring at Marlene who’d just interrupted you.

“I really want to kiss you.”

Completely dumbfounded, you wouldn’t know what to do or say, but you were sure that when you looked back you’d know exactly what you should have done.

Marlene would lean in to see what you thought, since there was no response that indicated a mutual feeling or rejection.

You’d stay impossibly still, worried you might do something wrong otherwise.

But she’d hesitate, just for a moment, questioning whether she was doing the right thing.

And the idea of a future where she hadn’t kissed you then wasn’t something you wanted to bring into reality.

And that’d be how you knew that you wanted it to, and knowing exactly what to do, you’d lean in quickly and capture your lips with hers.

Regulus Black ;

There wouldn’t be any admittance to feelings before your first kiss.

Regulus would be sceptical, cautious to enter into a relationship, especially when he didn’t know if he would be able to be there for you the way you deserved.

He’d be used to you finding him in the Astronomy Tower, tucked away from humanity and left with his own mind—for better or for worse.

Usually your presence would be a welcome comfort, unless things were particularly bad, at which point you knew to leave.

But it would be a time for you and Regulus to just be you, to share deep and dark secrets or laugh at something that had happened in class.

It would serve as a sanctuary for whatever you needed, so it was fitting that your first kiss would take place there.

In a place you’d learn to call yours together with Regulus.

You’d probably approach him on a particularly bad night, but he wouldn’t send you away.

He thought by doing that, he’d only allow for damaging, cursed thoughts to fill his mind and taint his heart, corrupting him from within.

Your company would ease it all, slow it down if anything. It would provide light and safety in places where the shadows couldn’t reach.

At this point, Regulus would glance at you, how the wind caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up, how it bit at your skin, but that you still wore a gentle smile upon your face.

He’d realise that every night you spent up in the tower alone with him, paved a path from his heart to yours—he’d know that they’d finally met.

He’d finally realise that he had no expectations to live up to, no one that he had to be but himself; you’d willingly spent your nights with him, not just to wallow or brood but to laugh and talk about yourselves.

After admiring you both in memory and in the present, Regulus would place his hand over yours that rested on the railings.

It would be cold from the night air, but it wouldn’t matter to him.

You’d look up to Regulus, the person you’d given up countless nights for, just to be with him because you couldn’t think of a better excuse not to sleep.

He’d look at you differently, not like he ever had before and it was send waves of butterflies to the pit of your stomach.

He’d lean in slowly, whispering your name as if it was a question, waiting for your response in the quiet night.

It wouldn’t be an audible answer, but rather shown in movement as your face inched closer to his before finally your lips met in a slow and tender kiss.

His hands would cup your face, bringing you impossibly close, wishing for you never to leave.

But you would, your lips would part and a smile would break out over them, just like it would on Regulus’—mirrored emotion speaking words better than either of you could have formed them.

- - -

forever friends; @myalupinblack / @selenes-sun / @vixxiann / @lillict / @savingpluto / @lunarmoon8 / @theincredibledeadlyviper / @pad-foots / @queen-asteria04

harry potter; @fuckingbloodyhello / @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts / @scvrllet / @dreamerinthesun / @crazy-beautiful / @chaoticgirl04

marauders era; @spxllcxstxr / @iamninaannaisreading / @i-wanna-b-yours / @sereinegemini / @helen-with-an-a

[astaroth1357]

Okay, but like could you imagine how the demon bros would react if MC had a fanclub, because I feel like that would be wild lol

The Brothers v. The MC’s Fanclub

Surely, the italics blurb was meant for more than this! Any old letters in any order could have been strung together for the purpose of wasting space and yet here it is, a being brought forth with intent! With substance! The blurb has a need for greater purpose, but what is it to do when its sole function is to only exist?? How can it ever hope to fulfill its ambition when it's no more than a proto-intro to a fuller, more engaging story?! Surely… Surely there is a way...

Lucifer

He had expected a human in the Devildom would have been eaten… not popular!

The MC’s rise to the social hierarchy sidelined him hard. When he had assigned Mammon to guard their human, it was with the expectation of keeping hungry demons at bay… not ushering them through crowds of followers like a security detail.

Honestly, it’s more inconvenient than anything… The MC’s fans are actually worse than his own at taking a hint and he had to give the human a map of school just to find ways to avoid them in the halls!

They usually know better than to crash any dates that the two are on (this is Lucifer we’re talking about), but they get no privacy at RAD anymore… If he tries to meet up with the MC for anything, he has to go round up all their crazed stalkers groupies before he can actually say anything.

He’d expel them all if he could, but since Diavolo holds onto that power, he just gives any of them that get in his way an eternal detention… Can’t bother MC if you’re sealed in a closet, now can you?

Mammon

His possessiveness and his need to make money are at real odds with themselves…

On the one hand, it’d be so easy to milk these fools like no tomorrow! He could sell them practically anything the MC’s touched from old shirts to toothbrushes. Pictures could go for twice as much and if he could get the MC to give out hugs…? They’d be loaded!! Loaded, baby!!!

… But then one of them tries to get too close to MC and he feels the urge to sock him in the jaw… Like, they’re suckers, obviously, but the MC is still HIS MC. The idea of a bunch of groupies following them around… it gets under his skin something fierce.

He pretty much won’t leave their side at all at RAD just so he can swat away their fans whenever he gets the chance. He may as well be their personal bodyguard, the second a guy gets too close, Mammon will have him by the back of the neck and toss him out on his ass.

It doesn’t stop him from making money off them completely (this is Mammon we’re talking about) but he makes sure they stick to whatever worthless cast-offs he pawns on them. The real deal is his and his alone, ya hear?

Levi

Jealous boi is jealous and he doesn’t want to talk about it.

The second he found out the MC had their own fanclub he knew he hated them. He’s an otaku and a huge ass simp for people in both 2 and 3 dimensions. That means he knows what fans like this do to the people they idolize… 

Just the thought of the MC’s groupies trying to get candid shots of them or going after everything from their pencils to their bathwater… Nope. No. Not allowed. Not with his MC anyway.

He starts going out to RAD more often just to stake his claim when those losers are around (yes, even he considers them to be losers… not that he has much leg to stand on but hey). 

Normally stuttery and blushy Levi suddenly upgrades to a confident snek boy literally any time he sees their fans around. He’s gotta be touching them somehow and he’ll smile in their direction like a smug asshole the entire time. Yeah that’s right… be jealous of him for a change, you simps.

Satan

Dear lord are they an annoying bunch…

Satan isn’t opposed to the MC having fans in principle, on some level he even understands it. They’re a human in a world full of demons and that’s going to turn some heads on its own, but that doesn’t mean they have to be SO IRRITATING about it...

Satan will just be walking with the MC out in the courtyard and they’ll have fans practically nipping their heels for attention… He’d be much more patient with them if they didn’t insist on following the MC everywhere, even when they clearly don’t want them around!

Satan ends up becoming a second bodyguard for the MC when Mammon’s not around. Most of the club will keep their distance from him after just a glare but he’ll start breaking arms if pushed. Satan doesn’t play.

One unfortunate soul made the mistake of trying to take a bit of the MC’s hair for a spell and Satan caught him, scissors at ready and everything… No one talks about where those scissors ended up afterward…

Asmo

Actually isn’t as irritated with their fanclub as everybody else because, like, have you seen his? It’s just one of the joys (and challenges) of being so popular! Slay it, MC!!

Asmo is the only one who tries to encourage the MC to interact with their fans more because he’s experienced the benefits for himself. 

Having a loyal fanclub can be so heartwarming at times! It’s like having a group of people always willing to pump to you up all the time - and who doesn’t need that?

Often invites their fanclub to join his fanclub to make “crossover” parties where they all can mingle together and enjoy heaps of praise! (The MC’s actual enjoyment of these “parties” is entirely up to their tolerance of sycophantic idol worship…)

Asmo does have his limits though. The MC’s lips really only belong to him and any fan who thinks otherwise will have to deal with the full verbal fury of the fifthborn… He has made several of them dropout completely… 

Beel

Thought their club was maybe a little weird at first but tried to keep an open mind… 

They certainly aren’t like HIS fanclub (who are just the sweetest people) but they liked the MC and he liked the MC. They couldn’t have been that different, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. They are nothing alike.

This fact became abundantly clear to Beel after he watched a few of them steal the MC’s gym shoes from their locker… Yeah, he’s not about these guys much after that.

Mammon refused to let Beel take over as the MC’s 24/7 bodyguard, but he did become the primary muscle of the “MC Security Squad.” If a fan gets a little too crazy, then Beel straightens them out with a fist and a smile.

Belphie

Heeeey, good job MC, you got some minions! Now you just got to learn how to use them.

At least, that’s what he says but he’s not actually going to teach them or anything. Does he look like a tutor to you? Too much work...

Whether or not the MC learned how to exploit their popularity properly, he doesn’t like it when they’re around anyway. Belphie’s a very, “Me Time means Just ME” sort of guy and having a bunch of losers following the MC around gets in the way of their lunchtime cuddle…

Unlike everyone else, though, Belphie has his own minions to do his bidding so now Belphie’s fanclub and the MC fanclub are having all-out wars between class periods. We’re talking fistfights, blackmail, and firecrackers. Shit gets wild.

Not that Belphie really cares or even looks as involved in any of it as he actually is. Little does the MC know that every time they pull him in for a snuggle, he’s probably just ordered someone to slash some poor groupie’s tires… Don’t fuck with the Sleep King.

[poisonouswritings]

I love it when I get two separate asks about the same prompt, makes me feel doubly productive hehe

GN!Reader, fluff, Tulsi tests the sharpness of her knives by playing The Knife Game and no this is not up for debate, Sage is such a tsundere

I had thought that it was like, an old dagger of Sage's or something, but this is soooo much cuter 🥺

Okay personally,, I wish we had gotten an option to stay with Tulsi after Sage ran out (Ch.3) to bond with her a little,, and I've certainly written that for my own OC,,,, because I think the idea of Tulsi liking you enough to make you a dagger and also seeing how dumb-in-love Sage is that she gives it to him and tells him to give it to you as a gift,, soft,,,,

But I also like the idea that Sage asked Tulsi to do it and he couldn't stop blushing and he stayed with her the whole time because oh this is a custom dagger, someone has to pick the blade length and the material and the pommel size and Oh Do You Want It Engraved? Should I Put A Heart On It? And Tulsi is grinning like a little gremlin as Sage buries his face in his hands because He Hates Her So Much (affectionate)

They're such siblings I love them

I said what I said. Tulsi plays the knife game. Sage does too. They go back and forth. Singin' the knife song in Vairan (is that how you spell that? I'm pretty sure it is). Tulsi wins flawlessly. Sage nicks himself several times.

Custom sheath,, Tulsi working with leather,,,,, ooooh her overalls are covered in oil and her muscles are on display,,,,,,, hehehehe,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

'Oh Ozzy This Isn't A Tulsi Thirst Post' Actually Every Post Is A Tulsi Thirst Post It's In The Subtext

Sage doesn't pay her (because he's broke. let's be real here Tulsi went into this knowing she wasn't getting paid) but they have an agreement that he has to let her be there the first time he uses The Big L Word

Also he has to pay for drinks the next time they go out but it was his turn anyways so

So now Sage has got you a custom blade! He just has to figure out how to give it to you!

oh this is harder than he thought

I mean it's just a knife, right? There's nothing romantic about a knife. He doesn't have any reason to be flustered. This is a very valid self-defense tool- and Tulsi is snickering in the background as Sage paces around the forge trying to convince himself He Can Be Totally Normal About This

Tulsi suggests he does it in a way that's unique to him.

.... >:3

When he gets back to Fathom that evening he immediately goes to your room. Luckily you're in there, trying to organize the vast array of shiny rocks, bits of string, crinkly paper, etc. that Sage has brought into your room.

He greets you with a hug, which is how he normally does because he's a very physi-

.....

You look at him with an eye raised. Is That A Knife In Your Pocket Or Are You Just Happy To See oh that actually is a knife. And he looks very proud of himself, snickering a little.

Cute kitty cat.

He's a little blushy as he hands the knife to you and explains it's yours. It's just for your safety! You should have a weapon to defend yourself! He doesn't like you or anything!

His face is so red plz

He tells you a little bit about the material and how long it took Tulsi to do it and oh you like the color of the hilt? He picked that :3 he's just so proud of himself please i love him so much

You smile and kiss his cheek to say thank you and he starts stuttering a little because You Keep Randomly Being Sweet And Affectionate And He Just Isn't Used To It

He's never been in love so everything makes his heart go doki doki ehehehe