#of people blocking each other for misunderstandings

[leothil]

Also I gotta say that waking up later and opening tumblr right when a Discourse Of Epic Proportions was dying down gave me the biggest whiplash, because people were just fully misunderstanding each other in every direction. Christ. Hiatus couldn't come at a better time.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #28

My Beloved

Imagine dis…

You know, I like misunderstandings…

I saw a bunch of prompts that Danny is the mother of Ellie and Dan who is angry and will destroy the world in the future.

I also saw a bunch of prompts of Danny and Phantom separating themselves and acting like two individual beings but having to be in proximity or else there would be consequences.

But I didn’t see anything about combining the two things…

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

…

Daniel “Danny” Fenton knew that he had many powers, that kept on growing and appearing at the heat of the moment. He would sometimes forget how many powers he had due to his never-ending list. He has powers that he likes to use often, like levitation, flight, intangibility, his ghostly wail, and many more… But even he has a favorite, his duplication power.

Unlike Vlad who can create multiple clones of himself to do his bidding, he can only create one.

Now don’t go on and underestimate him just because he can only create one despite Vlad making multiple and who is also a halfa.

…

His clone is unique, when he first discovered this power of his he was all alone in the house full of guns to kill him when a passing thought passed his mind. Wes was getting on his nerves with how he adamantly tried to prove that he was Phantom. He knew the consequences when the people knew the truth, especially his parents, every time he closed his eyes it always showed him and his parents at the other end of the dissecting table.

He kept on saving them, poor animal ghosts who had just stumbled through the portal. He kept on stuffing his face with his pillows just to block out the screams.

He had just blinked, one moment he was all alone and all of a sudden another appeared in front of him.

He was startled at the notion while the clone looked at him with interest.

The clone was not human-HIM per se, but it was the ghostly-HIM aka Phantom but with more ghostly attributes.

Snow white hair that seems to sway, taller by a few feet, pointed ears, fanged teeth, skin so blue, and white freckles that seem to give off a faint glow.

He tried going ghost but was unable to do so, what he can do is a weaker version of flight, intangibility, and invisibility. While Phantom got most if not all of his powers whenever he went ghost.

At first, he was ecstatic with this new power of his not only he can throw people off who are looking too deeply into Phantom’s identity and put an end to Wes’s chatter but with this new power of his he can finally have some sort of normalcy.

But after a few minutes, he began to feel fatigued and nauseous, Phantom slowly moved towards Danny and merged himself with his human half causing a faint white glow all over his body that he got used to whenever he was going ghost.

It was a few minutes, Danny thought to himself, but it was enough to not only create a separation between the kid who always hides in the bathroom or disappears whenever there is a ghost attack and a ghost kid who looks the same age as he and only appears whenever he disappears.

But it was enough.

…

Everything was great, as Phantom was able to deal with the ghosts that constantly invaded his hometown but also, he is slowly bringing his grades up from where it was before the accident. He also created an alibi for himself so people will know that both Phantom and Danny and two separate people.

Both sides were able to go on separated from each other the more time they spent separated

…

After a few days, something also began to change.

Phantom would sometimes make a joke or a quip about death or even puns that made Danny laugh. Phantom would be more serious whenever they got too far from each other, small things that made both Danny and Phantom different from one another from an outside perspective.

Both made a mental connection to each other.

Not like romantically, but more of a deep platonic love for each other.

Devotion to each of their other halves. So deep that one might double-take whenever they saw the two.

Danny loves his friends and family but even they cannot understand him ever since the day of the accident. Jazz blessed his sister’s soul, who read every book in every existence known to man and tried to help him. But the thing is, those books are for humans, not ghosts, and especially not for someone like him.

He died and came back to life knowing instinctively that something was wrong with him. He stands in between life and death. He knew he died and felt every bolt of electricity that had killed him. He who had to sit still at the dinner table listening to their parents who were supposed to love them, listened in great detail to what they would do to Phantom when they had caught him. 

But Phantom, Phantom instinctively knew how he felt and heard his thoughts. When rough days came to Danny, Phantom quietly appeared behind him and offered his silent support.

Both needed each other to live, without the other one cannot survive on their own.

Phantom, when got too far and separated from his human for far too long got reckless, angry, cold, merciless, and ruthless. Nocturn got the burnt of it despite knowing that Phantom held back.

And Danny?

Got too emotional, and detached, and has that far-away look on his face. He would space out an entire war or destruction surrounding and he still would not notice.

Both are each other’s anchor and rock. And when both become one and become Phantom together then they will be unstoppable.

…

When Danny became the Ghost King it was clear they needed to separate often due to the amount of paperwork that was left pilling when Pariah Dark was in charge.

It became domestic, Danny thought as he paused for a bit when he was trying to write a book report from the Lord of the Rings courtesy of Mr. Lancer. Add the latest guests in his room he thought as he took a look at the sleeping and cuddled up Dan and Ellie who are now freshly de-aged due to some circumstances.

When Danny tried to explain to the two halves the reason why he and Phantom seemed to separate or why he was using this power of his almost every day.

Dan and Ellie seem the only two who didn’t feel weird at his new predicament. Both de-aged ghosts after a sudden bad melting episode and the start of someone’s redemption arc called human Danny is their mom while Phantom is their dad.

Danny at first surprised at the title given by the two but asked playfully to the twins why is he the mom. Phantom who was trying to cuddle the two de-aged ghosts whom he saw as his children at this point and his human counterpart mumbled about whether was it the time when he went and juggled flaming diapers or mastered the art of the 'mom stare' that could freeze a room?

Danny who is still in a bad mood from Dash’s bullying earlier snarked back at Phantom on how he got the dad title. Did he accidentally perfect the art of 'dad dancing' during ghostly gatherings? or accidentally stumble into a dad joke competition?

Sam, often would joke that if she didn’t know better, she would think the two would be lovers which would be found in Paulina’s A03 account and history.

Now that spread like wildfire, it spread faster than Wes could say Danny is Phantom. Now both GIW and his parents are out to get him for two different reasons… One Phantom mind controlled their precious son and now locked up Danny for his “own good” and two he was called a so-called “traitor” to his race as he fell in love with a creature who was not even sentient.

As things slowly went out of hand, Danny had to physically drag Phantom, who had been clawing and gripping to Danny like a lifetime ever since Danny told him to stay at the Infinite Realms for their safety, to a portal with the two children who have their eyes puffed red as they say their farewells to each other.

…

The JL is now confused, they kept seeing the same teen on the loose that appeared in various cities such as Metropolis, Central, Star City, and many more, with various government agents tailing him and trying to capture him.

At first, they thought it was another of Walker’s programs, in which they kidnap various kids who have a powerful meta ability to be part of a group that directly answers to the government.

But when it was revealed that he is another son of Bruce Wayne, it became personal.

Could it be another ploy to gain the Wayne enterprise through a much older and miniature appearance of Bruce Wayne, is it another ploy to gain Bruce Wayne’s wealth and money… They might never know.

…

Batman aka Bruce Wayne publicly announced that he had found another son who was rummaging in the trash of Gotham City, this way those mysterious agents could not publicly go after him as Danny had been publicly broadcasted and the manor is equipped with the latest security known to man.

Danny is very skittish the Batfam concluded, as if every move and twitch they made is something Danny should be wary of. Danny was too distracted to be sad, and have little to no energy to even join Dick and the rest of his siblings to bond over something.

However, that didn’t stop them from forming some sort of familial bond with Danny despite him being too guarded and too wary to get close to the family.

However, it all changed on a random day, as the entire noticed his change of mood. No longer the wariness, anxiety, and nervousness they encountered daily. Each of them began asking around within themselves if they were the one who made a change to Danny, even Alfred didn’t know who or what made him turn a 180.

Of course, when they tried to ask COUGH to interrogate COUGH Danny, he just kept quiet and smiled shyly.

..

Night comes and all the Bats are gathered at the cave to discuss what made Danny to be in a good mood before their patrol.

As they were just about to leave for their shift when Oracle notified them Danny leaving the manor.

Of course, all of them immediately followed him and followed him to a tall abandoned building with Danny sitting giddily on top of the said building. Of course, some of them have some dark thoughts about Danny sitting on top of a warehouse and seeming near the edge. One of the Bat broods is ready to interfere if Danny even makes any signs.

But all thoughts were thrown out as a crack seemed to tear through reality appeared behind Danny, Danny on the other hand looked ecstatic. As the tear/ crack opened up there they saw an underworldly being donned with a crown that is covered in various jewels, an outfit and cape fit for an emperor, and eyes that reminded them of the Lazarus pits.

Just as the moment they tried to calm their hearts down, Danny flung himself towards the unknown being and cried out beloved, the said being caught Danny and twirled him around.

Both are in their little world as they both keep laughing and hugging each other.

The Bat family who are still in the shadows kept their eyes on the two as they wanted to get Danny away from someone that made their instincts go haywire. Batman and Robin are both especially to grab Danny away from that thing.

Both the being and Danny finally settled down and began chatting to each other with little to no distance between the two. The being then summoned a basket that was full of unique and exotic food and then shared it with their new brother.

Then Danny suddenly asked about the kids, What kids!!! EVERYONE thought when suddenly two black blurs went and tackled Danny down, knocking the air out of him.

As the kids stopped hugging Danny, they all held their breaths, they looked like the perfect copy of Danny. Black hair and blue eyes, both kids exclaimed Danny as their mom while they pouted at the being and called him dad about hoarding their mom.

The reunited “family” began chatting about how they were at each other, more on the beings asking how Danny is especially doing.

Danny chatted about how the Waynes are too good for him and how he informed Batman since the Bats have a very close relationship with the Waynes. When one of the kids why mom needs to talk to Batman, Danny just casually reveals a bombshell on the Anti-Ecto laws, GIW, The Infinite realms...etc. So that both mom and dad could get together again, as mom aka Danny is trying everything to stop the war from the living world while their dad tries to stop the war from the Realms.

As they were chatting and catching up to one another, Danny looked at his wristwatch and told the kids that he had to get going or else the Waynes might notice that he snuck out. Both kids immediately cried and gripped Danny while the other being also known as dad didn’t even try to pry the kids off from Danny as he too wanted to stay with the human.

Of course, Danny gently pried off the three hands that were gripping and immediately one of the kids threw a tantrum at how Danny was not safe and might get him killed if he stayed there and Danny should just go with them. Of course, Danny shook his head and told the kid that Mommy was doing everything he could to protect both of them also he might not want to admit it in front of the Wayne but he did grow on them, like a fungus he can’t remove.

And so, the trio left the building after one last look and hug from Danny, Danny immediately lost the small life and cheerfulness that he had when he was meeting them and silently went back to the manor.

…

This made the Bat clan scramble to fix everything, all the while competing for the favorite uncle and aunt title while both Bruce and Alfred engage in their silent war for the grandpa title, when they showed their findings to the League both Booster Gold and the Flask stood up white as paper.

They claimed at the picture of Danny, that he may be the one who destroyed the future, but looked a little confused as some traits that they remembered were not on Danny which made them speculate that maybe he grew into. But when the two-time travelers explained in great detail his appearance, it matched the appearance of their nephew.

Is this the reason why Dan turned evil, humans have killed his family leaving him both angry and devastated that he let the world know of his pain?

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I posted a bit early, I got a bunch of people to do and things to see. So uhh, bye-bye!

PPPS: This one got too long for my liking...

[bamsara]

I'll ask, if it hasn't been already - regarding the tags on the fanfic poll:

What kinda things make you click out/give you the squick? I'm so curious 👀

rubs my hands together: could be a mix of things anywhere between character dynamics, personalities or even how the fic is formated

Btw for people who don't know what squicks are: 'Squicks' are just personal preferences that someone doesn't like. Nothing wrong with em it's just not your vibe. (Exp: Like how all my friends HATE tomatoes but I am tomato eater forever)

anyway long ramble list:

Can't read big blocks of text without breaks very well, and I dislike when characters (esp main characters that are talking in every chapter/scene) have bolded or italicized dialogue. I think it's fine for special reoccurring characters but it genuinely messes up with reading flow for me when it comes to taking in information if used too much

If I'm reading a fic specifically for a monogamous romantic paring, I don't care for the 'past lover interest reappears' trope or one of them currently has one, or the love triangle that results in one of them being like 'oh but i love them both i can't possibly choose!' *cough twilight cough* it just makes the relationship feel disgenuine and icky. zero stars. Any mention of a character's past relationship usually makes me just click out, just personally not here for that

-^^^ to go with this, big fan of the 'misunderstanding where someone thinks there's a love rivelry but the third person never had a chance.' Like to the main pairing there's only eyes for each other and that's all they care about, there's just some third person who's there and causing problems (either because someone in the pairing is jealous of the third person thinking they're gonna steal the other when it's not, or the third person thinks they're a love rival when in reality they're not even thought about) *cough Tyren cough*. I think there's a lotta comedy to have with this. Bonus points if it brings main pairing closer together

When characters have linear character development and recovery. I prefer my characters to realistically relapse and bit a little bit of a hypocrite as they develop from start of story to end. Failing and falling short and again makes the final result much more satisfying when they're healing

When characters use 'therapy speak' or otherwise react perfectly 'acceptable' to stressful situations. Again, I prefer realistic depictions of characters under stress, and work out becoming better under that stress rather than just One Big Thing Happen and suddenly they're never going to react negatively or lash out again because another character told them It Was Bad and To find Better Coping Mechanisms.

Unhappy endings. (Or open ended ones) Sorry for hurt/no comfort lovers but none of my fics will have unhappy endings. I like my stories to have people that go through absolute hell and still come out on the otherside

The ace in me doesn't care for fics where physical attraction is a large part of the ingredients that gets the pairing together. Not saying they can't admire each other when the sunlight hits them or wearing a nice outfit but just not a fan of reading about how 'sexy' a character is to another. Probably why I usually blast all my characters with the aspec beam

That's all I can think of off the top of my head but if someone had a more specific question I might be able to answer

[sanguineterrain]

Could we please get a drabble in which Jason and his partner have a fight and the partner walks out of the apartment to cool off and doesn't think the fight was something detrimental but Jason is actually terrified his relationship just ended?

anon?? are we sharing a mental connection?? i literally had this thought a month ago 😳 it fits him so well too :(

jason todd x gn!reader. tw fighting, jason thinks you broke up with him, misunderstandings, happy ending.

****

"You're not being fair."

You scoff, and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Fair? This is what couples do, Jason! God, I'm not saying we have to go out with other couples every week, but can't we do it at least once in a while? What's wrong with going to one wedding?"

Jason scowls from the kitchen. His arms are crossed, jaw tensed. "Why aren't you happy with just going out together? You're not in a relationship with your friends."

"Because it's good to do new things, and you're someone I want my friends to meet. And I want to meet your friends too!"

"My friends are aliens and Roy. You don't wanna meet them, trust me."

"Yes, I do, Jason. Don't tell me I don't. And I know this relationship is new for both of us, but I don't want it to be that we never go out with people, never meet each others' friends. You don't even have a good reason not to go!" you say.

"I do have a good reason," Jason says. "We don't know them."

"I work with the bride! She's not a criminal—"

"We don't need to go to someone's wedding we don't know," he continues. "Too many variables. Too many things could go wrong."

You shake your head. "That is so ridiculous, Jason. It's not spycraft, it's a wedding!"

"I said no," Jason says sharply, like he's handling a Crime Alley thug.

You take a deep breath.

"Okay." You close your eyes. "This isn't going to work. I need some air."

You grab your wallet and keys and walk out of his apartment. The train station is only a block from where you are; you'll go to the city square, have some lunch, and go back after a few hours. Jason doesn't respond well when he's pushed.

****

It's close to 5pm when you get back to Jason's apartment. He hasn't texted you, but you didn't expect him to; no contact is best for a few hours anyway.

You unlock the door. The apartment is dark.

"Jay?" You put your things down on the side table. "Jason? You here?"

Had he gone on patrol already?

There's a bump in the bedroom, then the door creaks open.

Jason stands in the doorway, clothes rumpled. You turn on a lamp, and he squints. His eyes are red; the skin of his lips are chewed up. He blinks at you, shoulders going to his ears.

"Are you here for your stuff?" he asks quietly.

You frown. "What?"

Jason points tightly to his room. "Your clothes and stuff."

"Why would I get my clothes?"

He takes a deep, shuddery breath, then swallows.

"'Cause we-we broke up," he says, and his eyes become glassy again.

Oh.

"Oh. Oh no, Jay. Jay, baby. No, no."

You walk to him and wrap your arms around his neck. He plants his face in your shoulder, hands going from your hips to your back and down again. He sniffles.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We can go to the wedding."

"Wait, hang on. Jason. Baby, look at me."

Jason picks up his head. His eyes are wide, his breathing is fast.

"Why do you think we broke up, Jay?"

He rubs his eye, pulling the skin so hard it turns red.

"'Cause we fought and... and when I fight with people, that means things are over."

"Things aren't over," you say gently. "We move on. We talk. We forgive."

"Don't deserve it."

"Oh, Jay." You pull him back into your arms. He bends so he can rest his head on your chest. "Sweetie, we're not going to break up over one fight. Certainly not over something like this. We can always talk things out."

He sighs. "I was stupid anyway. We should do normal couple things. You don't deserve my bullshit."

You stroke his hair. He hugs you tighter.

"Jay, being anxious about going someplace new isn't bullshit. And I don't want you to go to the wedding just because you're afraid we'll break up if we don't."

He pulls back to look at you. You're no more than a couple inches from each other.

"I don't want to go to the wedding," he says. "But... maybe we can start with something smaller? Less people? Dinner with another couple?"

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm sure. I wanna do that stuff, I just—one day at a time?"

"Yeah, Jay, of course." You kiss him. "Always."

[cowboyellies]

- Bad Habit | e.w.

were you not not too good for me, my dear?

funny you comeback to me my dear

PART TWO OF "You're Not Good enough"

pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader

warnings/themes: angst!!!, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight mention of ellie's past trauma, lots of jealousy, small amount of abby x reader (sorry abby), reader is kind of stupid (just like me fr), slight mentions of violence, small amount of smut (just a heavy make out)

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: you finally end things with ellie and months later you couldn't feel any better. ellie on the other hand is losing her mind without you. when she sees you at a club one night on a date with another girl, she's determined to get you back no matter what cost.

a/n: I didn't originally plan on making a part two but a few people asked so here it is! I hope you enjoy (below I'm tagging everyone who asked for a part 2)

 🏷 🏷 🏷: @shortcake22341 @harrysslutsstuff @robinismywifee @gizzzi

you and ellie hooked up three more times before you finally called it quits. for real this time. seriously. you blocked her on all platforms and even started avoiding spaces you knew you would see her at. 

the final straw this time for you was the fact that the third time you were hooking up she got a text from another girl during, and she answered it. once she finished sending her text back she rolled over to resume eating you out but you were already grabbing your shit and bolting for the door. that wasn’t the first time ellie williams had humiliated you but you made a promise to yourself that it would be the last. 

now it was two months later, the longest you’d gone without seeing her in about a year. you no longer thought of her, for the most part. there were times where you longed to unblock her number and go crawling back. but you didn’t. you finally felt actually single for the first time in forever and it was exhilarating. you now could do whatever you wanted, hook up with whoever you wanted without feeling the weird guilt and shame ellie left you with every time you’d walk out of her apartment. and now that your spring term had ended you were most certainly using this freedom to your advantage. 

ellie on the other hand was losing her shit. the night she fucked up again was actually a misunderstanding this time. yes, she did receive a text to hook up while you were fucking each other. and yes she did answer it. but it was only to tell the girl to fuck off. she tried to explain that to you but you had already slammed the door in her face before she could get the words out. 

she had tried everything she could think of how to get you to talk to her, even stooping so low as to show up at your door, begging for you to open up. this actually might have worked on you if she hadn’t gotten your apartment number wrong. you two spent most of your time together at her place so she ended up scaring the living shit out of your elderly neighbor mrs. flenderson when she showed up knocking on her door at one a.m. drunk.

now all she could do was sit alone with her feelings which she hated. she hated knowing she cared about you and all this time apart was just giving her more time to think about it, so much so she even began fantasizing how she would confess her feelings for you. she drafted long speeches in her head for different ways she’d make you hear her out. 

when the opportunity to actually confess arrives, things don’t go as smoothly as they do in her imagined scenarios. 

the night you two finally see each other again you happen to be on a second date. the first second date you’ve been on since you started seeing people again. you had become accustomed to your one night stands but something about this girl drew you in. abby and you had met through a mutual friend and you actually got along really well. she’s funny, kind, doesn’t seem to share the same emotional incapabilities as your exes, and she’s pretty fucking hot. 

your night starts out amazing, she brings you to a club where she happens to know the owner, getting you past the entrance right away and straight to the bar, where she showers you in free drinks and many, many compliments. you flirt and laugh and blush like you haven’t in a while and you realize what you really want to do is dance. as you’re on your way to the floor, that's when you see her.

ellie’s at the entrance of the club with her two friends you vaguely know, dina and jesse. you stare at her for a few moments, taking in the features you had tried so desperately to brush from your memory. her auburn hair is shorter and you can tell from the rolled up sleeves of her black button up that she got more detailing done on her tattoo. her head starts to turn towards your direction so you suddenly switch positions with abby, moving so if ellie looks your way she’d only see your back. 

“is everything okay?” abby asks, leaning down towards your ear so you could hear her over the loud music. you nod and try to continue dancing as if nothing is bothering you, which is hard to do considering that you suddenly feel the urge to vomit. abby doesn’t seem convinced so she pulls you off to the side of the dance floor, luckily away from where ellie had gone to sit with her friends. “are you sure you’re alright, you look a little green,”

“yeah I’m fine!!” you insist, trying not to give ellie the power to ruin your night like you’d done many times before. “I think I’m just a little lightheaded,” you say, hoping it’ll make her drop it.

“oh shit, let's go to the bar and get you some water,” she replies, frowning in concern, grabbing your hand to lead you back there.

“no!” you suddenly shout, knowing that’s where ellie’s sitting. “no um- I just really like this part of the club! do you think you could just bring some for me over here?” you ask, even though the “area of the club” you’re referencing is just a dark corner near the bathroom next to a trashcan. 

abby looks at you questionably but eventually turns and does what you ask, probably figuring you definitely need it now. once she’s gone you start plotting how you can make your escape from here without ellie seeing, hopefully not further ruining your date. you know you’re being immature and that grown ups don’t hide in corners from their exes, but you’re pretty tipsy and you never claimed to be a grown up. 

a minute after abby leaves you see dina and jesse make their way to the dance floor. before you can even think to conceal yourself, dina makes eye contact with you and you notice her eyes widen in recognition, which makes you realize ellie had definitely told her something about your breakup. while that made you go into further panic it also made you pause. when you first met dina it was when you and ellie had run into her at a coffee shop the morning after one of your sleepovers. ellie had introduced you to her as “a friend” even though you’d been hooking up for four months at that point. if ellie had gone from that to now confiding in dina about your messy break, it made you think about how much your split had actually affected her. 

as you see dina move to go and tell ellie about you lurking in the shadows, abby starts to walk back in your direction, glass of water in hand. now you’re screwed. there’s no way you can convince abby to leave before ellie comes to find you.

while you’re being overcome with sudden doom, ellie from the other side of the room feels her heartbeat pick up in a way it hasn’t in months. as soon as dina had muttered your name she jolted out of her seat. now as she makes her way over to you, confident to win you back, she notices something dina hadn’t mentioned, her.

abby stands next to you brushing a hair behind your ear, gently stroking your shoulder as you down the glass of water she brought you. ellie feels a sudden rage flow through her whole body. just when she thinks she’s getting you back she sees you with another girl. this is different than with the couch girl from the party who was just gonna be a random fuck, she can tell from your body language you’re already getting comfortable with her beyond that. she stops suddenly a few feet in front of you, causing you to choke a little on your water. 

as you’re now standing face to face with ellie you notice that familiar jealousy plastered all over her face. as much as you know you have nothing to be guilty about, you can’t help but start to sweat a little as she resembles the look of a rageful girlfriend. you realize that’s exactly what abby might think she is as you look up to see her shocked expression. just as you’re about to explain, ellie beats you to it. 

“can I talk to you?” she asks, more of a command than an actual question. 

“no!” you shout back over the music, hoping that will send her away but knowing from past experience it won’t. 

“who is thi-” abby starts before she’s cut off 

“I’m ellie. who the fuck are you?” she yells, turning her direct attention to abby for the first time.

“her date, who the fuck are you? are you two-”

“NO!” you yell, wishing you had opted for the dinner and a movie date you previously discussed. “let’s just go!” you yell, at this point you weren’t even focused on salvaging your date but instead on getting the fuck out of there. 

“I need to fucking talk to you please,” ellie begs stepping in front of you, this is different than the last time at the party, you’ve never heard her voice sound so desperate. 

“she said no, back the fuck up,” abby shouts, pushing ellie a little on her shoulder. before you can say anything, that small little push turns into ellie flinging her fist into abby’s jaw. you knew she had a temper but have never seen her actually fight someone until now. the two of them begin full on fighting and instead of doing the honorable thing and trying to pull them off of each other, you simply leave. you know doing this pretty much guarantees no third date with abby but you can’t really find it in yourself to care. you’re so over with this night and the constant shit show that is your love life so you find yourself just exiting the club. 

they don’t notice you’re gone until a few minutes after, around the same time the security begins showing up to pull the two of them apart. before they can restrain ellie she makes a break for it, bolting after you towards the door. 

she finds you a few blocks away sitting on the curb waiting for an uber. you notice her shadow looming over you and you turn your head up to face her, groaning once you see her bruised face.

“ellie you’ve done enough, can you just please leave me alone,” you plead, the weight of the night’s events finally starting to hit you, making you feel exhausted.

“i’m sorry, I can’t,” she replies, lowering her body to the curb next to you. you look at her confused for a few moments, realizing that’s the first time you’ve ever heard her use the words “I’m sorry”

“why?” your voice cracks and your eyes starting to brim with tears on impulse. you aren’t sure exactly why you’re crying but it’s making you feel small and stupid. 

“you know why,” she replies, unable to give anymore. after all this time she spent building speeches, she still found herself scared to say the actual words.

“no, I don’t ellie. I have no idea why you treat me like this,” you reply, the tears beginning to spill on your cheeks. “I don’t know why you act as if you don’t give a shit about me but still can’t let me go, you never fucking tell me why,”

her heart is racing now. she knows if she doesn’t say the right thing she’ll lose you for real. this is the last moment she can avoid her feelings or she’ll crush yours once and for all. 

“It’s because I-” she starts at barely a whisper, her eyes beginning to water. “its because I fucking care about you!” now she’s almost yelling, the words escaping her mouth like a sob. “and I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it fucking terrifies me,” you look down at her hands and notice they’re shaking. you want so badly to hold her but a part of you stays restrained, knowing after everything she’s put you through you can’t just grant her forgiveness that easily.

“you don’t think I’m terrified too? ellie it took me a long time to get over my ex and you know that. but I didn’t dump you on your fucking ass the second I started to get feelings for you. and I certainly didn’t text another girl in the middle of us fucking!” the memory of that night starts to overcome your sympathy for her, replacing it with anger instead

“I texted her back to tell her not to message me again, and I tried to explain that to you and you wouldn’t let me. I know i fucked up and had shitty timing but you have to believe that I would never hurt you like that,” she was fully pleading now. you had never seen her so much as shed a tear and now here she is baring her soul. 

“ellie, you know I want to trust that but why should I? you’ve done nothing but give me reasons to believe otherwise,” you’re sobbing now too, your face turned towards the pavement in front of you watching your tears drip on the floor. you feel her fingers gently pull your chin upwards to look at her again, you notice a complete sense of somberness in her eyes now, this could possibly be the last thing she’d ever say to you.

“I know you don’t have any reason to believe me but you have to know that I…” she pauses for a moment to collect herself. the three words on the tip of her tongue were something she hadn’t said out loud in over five years. “I love you. okay? and I know I have a shitty way of showing it but I do,” 

out of everything she could have said to you that was the last thing you were expecting. you had known for a while that ellie had rejected that feeling because of something that had happened in her childhood which she never could fully tell you about, and you weren’t sure if she was even capable of it anymore. it’s at that moment where you know for certain she’s not just saying all this to get you in her bed. 

you’re truly looking at her now, the two of you facing each other with tearfilled eyes not able to say anything. this is when ellie finally breaks out the material in her fantasy speeches. “I love how you look when you’re sleeping, you get this cute half smile on your face when you’re having a good dream. and I love how obsessed you are with pickles, even though you refuse to eat a cucumber which I have explained to you many times is what pickles are made out of-”

“they’re not the same and you know it,” you interrupt through your tears. you had always wanted a big love confession like the one she was giving you, filled with specific facts and details, you said so while watching when harry met sally after one of your first hookups, you were shocked she remembered.

“I love how you never let me finish my sentences,” she replies with a smirk, her cockiness beginning to return after the intense few minutes of vulnerability. “I love how you do that thing with your lips when you’re cum-”

“okay you’re done now,” you stop her, a blush beginning to take over your face. you were starting to forget that at the beginning of the night you hated her guts and were likely going home with another woman.

“are you sure? I have a lot more,” she teases, you know the rest are all sexual. you realize after a moment of silence you never told her you love her back, and you realize you aren’t sure if you even do. obviously you still have strong feelings for her, otherwise you’d have already stormed away from her by now. 

as you’re about to say something to break the silence the uber you’d ordered earlier appears in front of you. you look up at her and contemplate what it’ll mean to invite her in with you. is it still stupid to fuck her after one night of seeing her again? does the fact that she loves you make a difference in that? 

you aren’t really sure and you don’t care. you pull her yourself up from the curb, dragging her along with you towards the backseat of the car.

–

after a tense fifteen minute uber ride which consisted of the two of you trying your absolute best to keep your hands to yourself and spare the sweet little old man driver, you finally arrive at your apartment. you’re now the one dragging her towards the elevator, recreating the same passionate makeout against the metal walls as the time after she cornered you at the party. the only difference being the fact that now you were no longer shoving down feelings of regret and shame. 

after you exit the elevator and you’re opening your apartment door you hear her laugh at the unit behind you, mrs. flenderson’s apartment. 

“oh my god ellie, stop,” you whisper shout at her, remembering the fear in the little old lady's voice as she told you about ellie’s drunken escapade. “she has heart problems, you could have killed her!” 

you feel her arms reach over your sides, gently resting on your stomach as she begins to lean into your neck “are you jealous thinking about me confessing my feelings for another woman?” she teases, the embrace making it harder for you to open your door.

“no ellie, the thought of you trying to seduce my 78 year old neighbor does not make me jealous,” you reply with an eye roll, finally managing to open the lock. as soon as the two of you are inside she’s pushing you up against the door, her lips trailing all over your body, desperate to show you how much she meant what she said earlier. 

“you have no idea-” she says in between kisses. “how hard it was-” she’s gripping gently at your hair now, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking you in fully for the first time in months. “to see you dancing like that with someone else,” you think about what she’s saying for a moment, the memory of abby making you trail your fingers down a bruise she had left on ellie’s cheekbone. you realize then that you could find it in yourself to forgive ellie for using you, because that’s exactly what you inadvertently had done to abby.

you pull her towards you by the jaw, her ear just centimeters away from your lips as you whisper “good.” you figured if you had accidentally used someone to make her jealous there's no harm in using that to your advantage now. you see ellie’s jaw tighten a little and her lips are back on yours in seconds, this time harsher than before.

you make your way to your bedroom, her hands on you the entire time as you’re leading her there. when you reach the bottom of your bed you begin to sit but you feel her pull you up, her hungry hands clinging to the fabric of your dress around your thighs. 

“look at this pretty little dress,” she mumbles while running her hands up towards your breasts, the skin tight fabric clinging to you in all the right places. “you got all dressed up just for her,”

you roll your eyes at her jealousy but deep down the pool of heat in your core was growing stronger. she responds to your eye roll by yanking the dress down your arms. she then makes her way to the clasps on your bra, unhooking it and throwing it to your floor. she begins kissing you again, starting at your neck and trailing down towards your breasts, a moan escaping you as her mouth met your nipples. instinctively your hand grasp onto her hair, clinging to the roots as she laps at your skin. your grip on her hair tightens as your pleasure increases when she stops suddenly.  “could abby’s tongue make you feel that good baby?”

you’re about to reply when she breaks away from your skin, now firmly pushing you towards your mattress. as you lie back she begins to take off your dress completely, staring down at you cravingly. unable to stand the lack of her lips on you, you’re suddenly sitting up and pulling her down towards you, gripping at the fabric of her shirt as her lips are crashing down on yours. 

“somebody’s eager,” she teases, smiling in between kisses. as you’re making out you begin to feel her remove your hands from her neck and pinning them to the bed above you. you lean up towards her to continue your kissing when she pulls back, the sudden lack of contact causing you to let out a small pathetic whimper. she laughs at you and begins to take you in. her eyes linger over your mussed hair and pink lips that are wet from her kisses. “you’re so fucking beautiful,”

this comment catches you off guard. ellie had never said anything like that to you before. yes, she complimented frequently while you were together calling hot and gorgeous especially when you were on top of her, but this was different. this was more intimate. you smile brightly beneath her and use all your strength to lift yourself by your elbows to deliver one frenzied kiss onto her lips, plopping your head back down on the bed afterwards.

you realize then that the hot jealousy filled sex you two were headed towards had begun to change. all thoughts of abby, of any of your collective exes, or anyone else in the world for that matter have disappeared. this is about you and her. 

she resumes kissing you, this time gentler, and you think back to the last time you had slept together. after your breakup every time you fucked was more feverish than the last. that sex was a dirty little mistake you couldn’t stop making, and you made sure to make it as quick and emotionless as possible. now as she’s on top of you, slowly stroking your hair as she moves her lips across your neck you are overcome with a sense of closeness for her that you had been trying to repress since the night she broke your heart on her dingy old couch. 

“ellie,” you whisper, her mouth slowly detaching from your skin as she adjusts herself to look at you. 

“yeah?” she asks, moving a chunk of hair near your face behind your ear. 

“I love you too”

[g1rld1ary]

hope your requests r open! lockwood x reader where lockwood think reader likes george (but she doesnt) and reader thinks lockwood likes lucy (he doesnt). basically just a whole bunch of misunderstandings with angst and a happy ending please <3

miscommunications - anthony lockwood x fem!reader

wc: 6316

cw: swearing, angstish, series typical injuries

i am SO sorry this took so long lovie i had the biggest writers block but i loved loved loved this request so thank u for sending it in i hope i did it justice!!!! love u xoxo

Lockwood and Co was absolutely the weirdest psychical detective agency you’d ever been a part of. Not only were the actual case methods… unusual, but you were a bunch of kids. You didn’t know anything about running a company; the logistics of managing four teenagers and trying to be responsible whilst also experiencing hormones and teen dramas, all while living in the same house with no adult supervision. But it was great, most of the time at least.

However, even teen psychical detectives weren’t immune to the trap of cliques and you often ended up spending much more time with some members than others. For example, it often ended up being Lockwood and Lucy, and you and George.

It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision or something that happened because you didn’t like the other two members of the agency, it just tended to be the easiest decision. Lockwood and Lucy were undeniably in perfect sync on the field, and you and George worked better in the research department, so it only made sense that those pairs spent more time together.

The only problem? You were totally in love with Lockwood. And you were pretty sure he was basically fucking married to Lucy Carlyle. They were the dream team on and off the field, you were half convinced they could actually read each other's minds. Plus, they were both genuinely amazing people. Lucy was your best friend and roommate at Portland Row, and you loved her with all your heart. And Lockwood? Well, there were a million and one good things to say about Anthony Lockwood. So who could blame you if you spent more time with George? It hurt less than watching the love story unfolding in front of you, and George was good company anyhow.

You couldn’t avoid them though, nor did you really want to, so life was testing your limits as to how much Locklyle you could handle at once.

You and George had been cooped up in the library most of the day looking through archives and research for the agency’s next case, so you’d been glad to get home and have a long warm shower in the evening. Lockwood and Lucy were off on a smaller case together so you’d had the bathroom all to yourself while George was cooking; a small luxury when living with three other teenagers.

Your hair was still wet as you sat down at the dining table in the kitchen, droplets sinking into the paper of the thinking cloth. It was a lovely dinner with George, he’d made your favourite meal upon request, the most glorious dish of butter chicken you thought might’ve ever been made. Everything should have been perfect, except that it was just the two of you. Again. It seemed like you never had family dinners as a four anymore, you and George stuck eating across from each other amongst empty chairs and untouched plates.

“So, anything new?” You made conversation in decent humour, picking at the chicken you weren’t quite as pleased to be eating anymore.

“Anything new in the twenty minutes we’ve been apart all day?” George replied in his characteristic dry tone. You rolled your eyes, trying to stay playful.

“Just checking.”

You took the cleanup after George did all the cooking, switching on the radio as you stood in front of the sink and washing the dishes in peaceful quiet. It was past midnight when the door jingled and creaked open and you could hear Lockwood and Lucy’s tired chatter floating through the old house. Even their damn voices belonged together, making the perfect cadence. You calculated whether you could get away with running up the stairs and pretending to be asleep before they really made it inside, however, agents are known for their speed, and you could hear boots hitting the floor before you could move.

“You’re still up?” Lucy asked as a greeting, stretching out her arms with a sigh. You smiled, shrugging as you began pouring hot water into the mugs you’d prepared earlier, making you all tea how you liked it. Lucy took hers gratefully, adding in the sugar as she pleased, but you were still yet to see Lockwood, taking the initiative to prepare it for him.

He came in a few minutes later, smiling softly as he looked at you.

“You’re a godsend.” He took the mug gratefully, visibly relaxing as the heat penetrated his body. You just smiled, turning back to the dishes.

“Thanks for the tea, I’ll head up to the shower,” Lucy said, patting you gratefully on the arm as she passed. That left you and Lockwood in the kitchen in careful silence.

You talked about nothing for a while, Lockwood filling you in on the tabloids he’d read the night before, and you told him all about the music and news you’d been listening to on the radio.

“How was the research, how’s George?” Lockwood was beside you now, taking a few of the plates you’d finished drying. His tone sounded almost bitter, but you figured it was his exhaustion taking hold.

“It was fine, I think we’re pretty much good to go for this weekend. Oh, you should have seen it! George absolutely stacked it on the steps of the library earlier. He’s fine, of course, but I nearly pissed my pants laughing, it was so funny.” Lockwood managed an unenthused chuckle, turning away to put the cutlery away in the drawer. “How was the case?” Lockwood made a noise of affirmation, coming back next to you, your shoulders brushing lightly.

“As well as cases can go,” He said, smile back on his face. You listened to him tell the bloody details of the case, illustrating his own heroic moves with a full production of actions and impressions, drawing giggles from you as he fought around the room. “And of course, Luce was brilliant as always, saved my arse for the millionth time.”

Fuck. Of course Lockwood was singing Lucy’s praises again, right in front of you! You couldn’t catch a break. You finally got a moment alone with the boy you had a massive embarrassing crush on and he was talking about your best friend! You could feel your smile fading fast, jealousy bubbling in your chest as you imagined them out on a case together, all quick banter and soft touches while you were at home. With George.

You tried to stay obliging, giving him a small smile and finishing up the drying quickly.

“Well, I should be off to bed. Goodnight, Lockwood.”

“You’re not gonna read with me?” You could have sworn that Lockwood had disappeared and been replaced with a kicked puppy the way his eyes were making your insides twist with guilt. You often sat up in the library with Lockwood; he could never sleep and you often made up for the late nights in the mornings, starting your days hours after everyone else. You held eye contact for a moment, willing yourself to be strong.

It didn’t work, and you found yourself back in your familiar spot in front of the fire, digging into your novel as he flipped through a magazine. When your eyes began to strain in the low lamplight you closed it softly, chancing a glance over at Lockwood. He looked almost perfect in the moment, yellow light illuminating the highlights in his face, his eyes glinting as he found humour in the dramatised tabloids.

He looked up suddenly, his senses evidently alerting him to your staring. His head tilted almost imperceptibly, curiosity seeping from his features. You smiled softly, unable to give him any explanation, so you were glad when he returned it in a way that made his whole face light up. You looked away first, studying your hands intently as you heard Lockwood breathe a subtle laugh.

Another case later, you were going crazy. You’d hit an obstacle (of course) and the case had started going awry. A few relicmen interfering with the site threw you all off your game, the original case put aside in favour of your lives. You and Lucy had been together when the ambush happened, both fighting as a team to protect yourselves. Admittedly you weren’t as fluid as her and Lockwood, but you blamed that on the lack of opportunity. You were doing pretty well for yourselves, all things considered. Still, you were grateful for the two boys to come bursting in like heroes, rapiers at the ready. What you didn’t appreciate was the way Lockwood immediately leapt to Lucy’s side, falling into their familiar rhythm. That left George to help you, the both of you sharing the quickest of looks, your eye roll lost to the fight.

You’d all made it out alive but were severely battered and disheartened. You’d all sustained a few cuts and bruises, you knew you were bleeding from somewhere in your midsection, but the adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet so you pushed through.

You also weren’t particularly glad to see Lockwood looking at Lucy like she’d hung all the stars in the sky in the cab on the way back. He hadn’t spared you a glance.

“I know this wasn’t exactly what we planned,” He said, still not making eye contact with you, “But we’re all okay so I think that’s a win. Luce, good job on the defence and keeping the relicmen at bay. George, brilliant catch with the source, mate, you saved us all. And, uh, good work.” He looked over briefly, but you thought he was looking slightly above you still. He didn’t even care enough to look at you on the case! It was absolutely maddening.

Sometimes, like now, you wondered why you even liked him. He was obsessed with another girl, barely paid you attention and had you begging for crumbs of affection. And yet, sometimes you were sure he liked you back. The soft smiles, the time together in the dead of night, the moments he showed you such gentle care. Lockwood was a puzzle you just couldn’t solve, but you were really, really trying.

You weren’t in the best mood when you all arrived home. Your case had been compromised, you were injured, and Lockwood was basically ignoring you. The night was not looking good. And, on top of all that, George called the first shower so it was unlikely there’d be any hot water left by the time you got in. Silently, you peeled off your overcoat, hanging it on your designated hook before discarding your rapier in the umbrella bin. The cut on your side was beginning to sting, the adrenaline having worn off in the cab, but you powered through, figuring you’d take care of it when you had privacy in the bathroom. Instead, you followed Lucy into the kitchen, chatting away as she made some toast.

She’d already left when you got up from the dining table, motivating yourself to make some tea and something to eat. Your body was starting to ache though, and you really didn’t want to be moving much longer. It was all mostly fine, though uncomfortable, until you were reaching up for the sugar for the tea. It was a little out of your reach up on one of the higher cupboards which usually wasn’t so much of an issue — you were a high jumper — but raising your arm above your head was making it feel like your cut was splitting open, pulling a strangled hiss from you.

“What is that?” Lockwood’s voice made you jump, the harshness unfamiliar. You turned slowly, folding your arms across your stomach in vain.

“It’s nothing, I was gonna look after it in a bit.” It was the first time you’d made proper eye contact with Lockwood all night, and he looked pissed.

“Bullshit,” He argued, gaining proximity, “Sit down.” You weren’t typically in the habit of being bossed around by a man, but you could tell Lockwood was serious so took a seat. He stomped around the kitchen rather dramatically, tossing you an ice pack from the freezer. You placed it tentatively over the cut, groaning and throwing your head back when it stung. Your breathing was shallow, erratic as you waited for the icepack to do its job and start numbing the pain.

When you unscrewed your eyes Lockwood was standing at the kitchen bench, aggressively buttering your toast. You watched him put together the meal you’d started, all with deep furrowed eyebrows, ending with him placing it in front of you, looking at you expectantly. You smiled at him despite the pain in your side, pulling the mug of tea closer. He’d made it just as you liked it, too much sugar and a bit of honey. You sipped it pathetically, tension bubbling between you and the boy in front of you.

“What’s new?” You asked in what you hoped was a lighthearted tone. Lockwood wasn’t impressed.

“Eat,” He urged, “You’ll already be weak from blood loss, don’t let yourself get dizzy from hunger too.” You took an exaggerated bite of the toast to appease him, melting into a moan when the food hit your mouth. Somehow, it tasted better than all the millions of times you’d made your own. Lockwood had found the perfect balance of butter and bread, soft in the middle but the crusts were still crunchy and satisfying. The corner of his mouth flicked into the smallest smile seeing you enjoy the food he’d made you, but it was clear he still wasn’t happy with you.

You continued to eat as he got up from his seat, disappearing out into the hallway for a moment. He returned with the first aid kit and you groaned. This was going to suck. Lockwood, ever the gentleman, asked for your permission to start helping you, lifting your already cherry red case shirt up to tuck under your bra, out of his way as he examined the cut. It wasn’t too deep, you didn’t think you’d need stitches or anything, but it was long, wrapping halfway across your stomach.

“This is going to hurt,” He said simply, but you could have sworn there was some gentleness there. Lightly, Lockwood began to clean your wound. Initially, it wasn’t so bad as he cleaned what had already spread and dried away from the cut which lulled you into a false sense of security. You cried out as he touched the wound itself for the first time, grabbing onto Lockwood’s shoulder for stability, though you were already seated.

“It’s okay, I’ll be quick. Promise,” He hushed you, offering his hand for you to grab instead. You clutched onto it for dear life, squeezing until both your fingers were turning white. Lockwood never uttered a complaint, working away at cleaning and treating the wound one-handed until it was done, stopping every so often for breaks when he thought you needed them.

When he was done he looked up at you from his position on his knees and it suddenly felt like the world around you was quiet. Lockwood’s eyes were so pretty. You’d always thought so, but it was particularly relevant when he was only inches away from you, sparkling in the amber light of the kitchen. Neither of you spoke, staring into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure what to do, you didn’t want to end this moment between you but you didn’t know how to make it last. Well, you did, but that was highly inappropriate given Lockwood was in love with another girl.

“Thanks,” You settled on awkwardly, cringing as Lockwood seemed to realise where he was and what was happening.

“Any time,” He jumped up, backing up towards the sink and busying himself with pouring his own cup of tea.

You left the kitchen shortly after, unwilling to sit in the awkwardness any longer. The first step was to get out of the soiled clothes and clean yourself up a bit, the second was to flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of the attic.

“I’m going to die alone,” You said to the roof, catching the attention of your roommate.

“Don’t be stupid,” Lucy said simply, “You’re hot, anyone would be lucky to have you.” That pulled a smile from you, tilting your head back to look over at Lucy on her bed.

“Thanks, Luce. You know what I mean though.” Lucy rolled her eyes with a soft smile.

“If Lockwood can’t see all your brilliant, attractive qualities then he’s a prat.”

“I’m sure he sees many of my great qualities — he hired me. The issue is that he’s blinded by your brilliance.” It was a conversation you’d had countless times before; you decreeing Lockwood’s love for Lucy and Lucy being disgusted by it.

“You know that I have zero interest in Lockwood. Like, zero. Honestly, I’d sooner get with you than him.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. I have terrible taste in men,” You laughed, mostly cheered up.

Lucy flicked off the lamp, putting you to sleep with a story from before you’d joined the agency.

Lockwood had a similar conversation with George a few weeks later. It was after another case, all had gone well and the four of you were strewn about the house, tending to various chores that needed to get done. Lucy was mopping the floors, you were organising and putting away the mountain of books that had been used over the case, and Lockwood and George were both in the basement, tidying the store room and going over paperwork.

Lockwood looked at George, hunched over the form he was filling in, and wondered how to broach the subject. He thought you might’ve been avoiding him lately, which wasn’t exactly wrong, and thought it might be because you were trying to make your feelings for George known. In fact, it had nothing to do with George and everything to do with Lockwood. You figured if Lockwood hadn’t noticed by now that you liked him he never would, so you’d started the mountainous task of getting over him. It was unsurprisingly extremely difficult, given you lived and worked with the man. Still, you were doing the best you could.

“So, gone on any, uh, dates recently?” The sentence was awkward and Lockwood cringed. It was so unlike him and George to talk about anything emotional, especially romance.

“What are you on about?” George didn’t even bother looking up, figuring it was just one of Lockwood’s moments that he’d move on from soon enough.

“It’s just, you’ve never really dated anyone, at least while living here, so I was just asking. Um, maybe there’s someone in the house you’d like to take out?” George looked up, turning his wheelie chair to face Lockwood, resigning himself to the conversation he knew would follow.

“Yes, Lockwood. Can’t you hear Lucy and I having loud, passionate sex every night?” Both boys rolled their eyes.

“That’s not what I meant,” Lockwood grumbled.

“Then say what you mean. You’re trying to figure out if I like her because you do and you’re too scared to say anything about it.” Lockwood was silenced, caught out with his true intentions. “Let’s face it, you’re about as subtle as a car horn; you moon over her. She’s the only one who hasn’t noticed.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Lockwood mumbled, “She likes you.” George burst out into uncharacteristic laughter, wheezing and gripping his stomach.

“God, you’re daft!” He laughed, “The two of you are perfect for each other, you’re hopeless.”

Lockwood made an excuse to leave, something about folding his laundry. George watched him go, rolling his eyes before turning back to his paperwork. If the two of you weren’t going to get his exceedingly obvious hints, you were going to have to work it out between yourselves.

Your angst was bleeding into the company. You were trying (and failing) to get over Lockwood which was not only making you generally miserable, but it was impeding your ability to be a good agent.

You were on a relatively easy case, and for some reason you’d been paired with Lockwood, a rarity. Lucy and George were on the second floor of the house scoping out where the source may be whilst you and Lockwood were on the ground floor, preparing your defences and putting on the tea kettle. It was extremely awkward. Lockwood was trying to make conversation and you were trying to keep it as short as possible. If you fell into conversation you’d be reminded of Lockwood’s many wonderful qualities, and it would just get harder to get over him.

“Did you end up finishing that book?” He asked as you pulled the chains out of their duffel bags. You perked up for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. You had finished the novel and absolutely loved it, you wanted nothing more than to talk about it. Still, you controlled yourself, shrugging off the question with a “Yeah, it was pretty good.” Lockwood hesitated, caught off guard by your answer. Usually you were keen to discuss what you’d been reading, especially if you liked it.

“Are you alright?” He asked, softness in his voice and eyes. Your heart clenched for a moment, you didn’t want to worry him.

“I’m fine, Lockwood, promise.” You busied yourself with arranging the salt bombs but you could still feel his eyes on you.

The case progressed, all four of you ending up on the second level of the house to confront the visitor, each splitting up to cover the different rooms. You were in the master bedroom when the en suite bathroom caught your eye. You could have sworn you saw movement near the shower and crept towards it, trying to stay focused and address the urgency on hand.

You were immediately distracted by the similarities between the en suite and the bathroom in Portland Row. Set out almost identically, it was almost scary how similar they were; George’s soap (fancy and way more expensive than the one the rest of you bought) was on the ledge of the shower, and Lucy’s blue hairbrush sat by the basin.

It wasn’t necessarily surprising that either of those items were there, they were both bought for cheap at a grocery store so ought to have been common, but it surprised you nonetheless. You’d been so distracted by the weird similarities that you didn’t notice the figure floating through the shower curtain until its translucent hand was beside your face. You panicked, the only thing you shouldn’t have been doing, and flailed about in the tiny room, rapier knocking bottles off shelves and creating a general racket that was not pleasing the ghost.

You stumbled on the tiles trying to get your footing and get the fuck out but slid on a slippery substance — probably conditioner from the bottle you’d sent flying to the ground. It was a comedy of errors you would have quoted as impossible in an old slapstick comedy, but there you were, and the consequences were infinitely more dire than those faced by Charlie Chaplin.

The proceeding moments vanished from your memory; a violent fall, a sickening crack and an overwhelming darkness. Three more moments of light where you caught visions of the ghost, Lockwood, and aggressive flashing lights.

You woke up in hospital. You wished it was the hazy, unsure innocence that you saw in movies, but the incessant beeping and sanitised smell had you groaning as you gained consciousness. Lockwood was slumped over in the chair next to your bed, breathing uncharacteristically calm as he slept.

You watched him sleep in the least creepy way you could manage, admiring his features when they weren’t scrunched up in worry or stress. He must’ve felt you watching him as his eyes fluttered open, doe eyes overflowing with relief as he saw you awake.

“You’re up, thank god,” He said, pulling his chair up even closer to you.

“Why am I here?” You asked, examining the various wires and machines you were plugged into.

“What aren’t you here for?” Lockwood joked and you tried for a smile. He straightened himself out and continued, “Linear skull fracture, concussion, scary-looking cut on your forehead. We think you slipped and bashed your head on the countertop.” You grimaced, the pain of the fall manifesting in your head.

“That would be right,” You agreed sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in your hospital gown, “And the hand?” Your left hand was bandaged up so thick it looked more like an oven mitt than a hand.

“Ghost touch.” Lockwood didn’t sound so happy and casual now.

“Oh.”

“What happened? It’s not like you to put yourself in danger like that; it was stupid and reckless.” You didn’t understand why Lockwood was getting so angry. Clearly, you didn’t intend to get injured, it was an unfortunate accident that you would have avoided if you could.

“As opposed to you, who never gets injured and always sticks to the plan?” You couldn’t help the venom seeping into your voice but you detested being criticised by Lockwood when he was just as bad, usually worse.

“This isn’t about me,” He said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep his cool while you were vulnerable. You were angry though and didn’t want to back down.

“Of course this is about you, Lockwood! You wouldn’t blink an eye if it was you who’d ended up here, or George or Lucy. It was an honest mistake, why are you being such a dick about it?” You were raising your voice but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, the tension that had been bubbling for weeks coming to the surface.

“Because you could have died —”

“So could any of us, that’s the job! I still see you jumping head-first into danger.”

Lockwood groaned your name, hands in his hair and pulling in frustration. “You’re misunderstanding me, I just don’t want to watch you get hurt—”

“Then close your fucking eyes, Lockwood. I fell and I got injured. It happens and I resent having you treat me differently than the others. Fuck this, I want Lucy here instead, or George.”

“Of course you want George here, why wouldn’t you?”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” If you could stand you would be shoving past him and out the door, but you were at a significant disadvantage being hooked up to so many machines, stuck in your place.

“You know what I mean, you and George are such a close pair, aren’t you? Always working together and laughing about your own inside jokes,” He spat and the burning anger only got hotter.

“Are you fucking crazy right now? Or are you forgetting that you’re the head of this company and therefore you’re the one pairing us together in every case? Or are you so fucking busy making heart eyes at Lucy that you don’t even notice that we’re actually getting work done? Forgive us for trying to make ten hours of research bearable!”

“Heart eyes at Luce? You’re the crazy one, she and I are just friends, I swear. But you and George will make a great couple, I’m sure.”

“George and I couldn’t be less interested in each other! And if you could see past your own nose for once maybe you’d see why!” You all but yelled, surely alerting the whole floor of your argument, “Leave me alone, Lockwood, I don’t want you here anymore.”

Lockwood looked as if he was going to dispute that statement as well but a nurse came to your rescue, clearly hearing the disagreement from outside. She ushered him out, claiming it wasn’t good for your vitals to be getting angry and that you could continue the fight when you were discharged in a few day's time.

Alone in the sterile hospital room, you felt yourself beginning to cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and landing on your embarrassing patterned hospital gown. In a perfect world, that conversation would have gone completely differently. In a perfect world, Lockwood’s eyes would have softened when he saw you were awake. He would have confessed how worried he was about you and how much he truly cared for you. He would have brushed his lips across your hand that he was holding, then pressed them again against your own as he admitted how he’d always been in love with you. You didn’t know that it was your own defensive nature that had stopped that from happening.

But it wasn’t a perfect world and you were alone, overwhelmed by the various noises and movements going on around you. You did eventually fall back asleep, a fitful, unsatisfying nap that had you groaning and exhausted when you woke up. You weren’t alone though, which did make you feel better. George and Lucy were sitting next to your bed, deep in a whispered conversation.

“Hey,” You said, shimmying up to a sitting position. They both stopped talking immediately, turning to face you with small smiles on both their faces.

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked, pulling her chair up to be right next to your bed.

“I’m alright now, just tired and worn down.”

“You scared us,” George added, characteristically stiff but clearly trying to be sensitive.

“I’m sorry,” You admitted, “I really didn’t mean to. And believe me, Lockwood’s already yelled at me enough for it, please just forgive me.” They looked at each other, communicating non-verbally.

“We heard,” George said, “He basically punched a hole in the wall trying to recount it.” He let out a clipped laugh before Lucy shoved him, signature glare working its magic.

“You should really apologise, he’s cut up about it.” Your mouth dropped open as you stared at Lucy. How was this your fault?

“I’m not apologising, he was the one who got angry. Right, George?” You pleaded with him, praying he wouldn’t let you down now.

“I… I don’t think it has to be right now, but you two should get over it after you’ve cooled down a bit.” Ok, it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped he’d say, but it was better than nothing. And better than the moral lesson you knew Lucy would try and impose — what a hypocrite.

“But he was so mean!” You whined, “I seriously just had an unfortunate fall, I didn’t die.”

“But you could have,” George quipped and you rolled your eyes.

“You know it’s because he really cares about you, right? He’d never forgive himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t save you.” You couldn’t tell if Lucy’s statement was making you feel better or worse.

“Yeah, really felt like it when he was yelling at me,” You grumbled, fidgeting with the hem of the scratchy blanket.

“Well, you know Lockwood is emotionally constipated,” George added and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter — what a statement to come from George.

“OK,” You agreed finally, “I’ll apologise when we get home. As long as he stops being a massive prick.”

You were discharged a few days later, healing nicely. It would have been sooner, but the head injury worried your nurses and kept you there, not trusting you would stay on bed rest. Lucy came to your rescue, posing as a very concerned caretaker who would ensure your safety.

In fact, it wasn’t Lucy who was enforcing your bedrest. It was George who was cooking every meal and Lockwood doing all the other motherly fussing. You hadn’t discussed your fight yet, both too exhausted and too awkward to broach the subject. You hoped your six-to-eight-week recovery time wouldn’t consist of the same heavy tiredness, but you figured it would improve once the concussion had faded.

The rest of the company had started doing two-man cases so that someone was always home to supervise you. It was a little stifling but you appreciated the effort. It also shook up the status quo of the company, Lockwood and Lucy’s perfect partnership being disrupted by no one wanting to be left at home each time, which was both a blessing and a curse.

In your first few days of being back home at Portland Row, Lockwood was home with you, helping wash your hair. You’d whined so much about how gross it felt, still blood-stained where you cracked your skull open that Lockwood gave up and told you he’d wash it for you. Of course, you’d protested, saying it went way beyond what you could expect of a friend or coworker, but Lockwood would not take no for an answer, justifying that it would be more dangerous to let you do it yourself since you could mess with the stitches since you couldn’t see the back of your own head.

You sat awkwardly in the bath, dressed in an old t-shirt and bikini bottoms to preserve what dignity you could. Lockwood stood outside the bath behind you, preparing the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to his side. The anticipation was destroying you, becoming fidgety and uncomfortable even in the perfectly warm water. The second Lockwood’s slender fingers threaded through your greasy hair you felt your body soften, relaxing into the feeling with no opposition. The feeling was heavenly, the careful but thorough massaging of your scalp could have sent you to sleep in three seconds if you weren’t simultaneously on edge at the proximity.

You sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head lolling back subconsciously against Lockwood’s forearms, drawing a small chuckle from him.

“I’m sorry for arguing with you the other day,” You said out of the blue, your voice cutting through the radio that was sitting next to the basin.

“It’s no worries, just forget about it,” Lockwood replied instantly, continuing his labours.

“No, I want to take this seriously. I said some terrible things I didn’t mean and I want you to know that I’m sorry for it. And, as I understand it you think I have some big crush on George which I would just like to disprove. I don’t. Like him like that, I mean.” Lockwood paused for a moment, hands going still in your hair.

“Oh,” He said after some time, “Well thank you for the apology but it is completely unnecessary. I started the argument and I was way out of line, I didn’t mean a word of it. What I meant to convey was that I was worried about you getting hurt because I… care about you. A lot.” You knew that was hard for Lockwood to say, vulnerability never coming easy to him. You turned to face him in the tub, knees pulled up to your chest as your just-rinsed hair dripped down onto your t-shirt.

“I care about you a lot too, Lockwood,” You smiled sweetly, glad you were finally getting over the weird tension that had been between you. Lockwood didn’t look as satisfied.

“No, it’s, fuck. I care about you in a different way than the others. I really like you, like, romantically.”

“Shut up,” You said quickly, not wanting to wake up from a sick dream. There was no way that Anthony Lockwood, after all these years, was telling you that he liked you. Lockwood looked lost for words. Obviously it wasn’t the impassioned reciprocation he hoped for, but it also wasn’t exactly a rejection. What was he supposed to do?

“I, uh, understand if you don’t—”

“Shut up,” You affirmed again. “I have been madly, foolishly in love with you since I started here, and you’re telling me this now? After we’ve screamed at each other and been moping around?” After a moment of him processing your statement, he began to laugh, mouth breaking into one of his light-up-the-room smiles.

“I guess so.” You joined in his laughter, admiring the way his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched as he did it.

“So what now?” You asked once your giggles had died down, leaving you two looking at each other across the edge of the bath.

“Well,” Lockwood inched closer, “We could try this?” He leant in for a soft kiss, pressing his mouth against yours lightly. You subconsciously followed his mouth as he pulled away, unwilling to open your eyes just yet.

“Mmh, maybe we could try that one again?” Lockwood laughed at your daze and happily obliged, swooping back in for a longer, deeper kiss that set your nerves on fire.

And if Lucy and George returned from their case to find the two of you still in the bath fully clothed, that was none of your business — and neither was the ten pounds that George reluctantly handed Lucy.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Courtship Confusion: Part One

You’ve been working with your siren partner for a couple years now. A consummate flirt, you’d initially been put off by his whole charming deal, somehow he's become your best friend. You’ve been wanting to see if he’s still interested in dating, but unfortunately he’s not picking up your hints. A pair of visiting cubi remind you of the cultural differences that come with interspecies dating. Maybe you’ve both been misunderstanding each other. Maybe it’s time you set the record straight.

Modern Fantasy, friends to lovers, siren/harpy, male monster x reader, Part 1 of 8

Ao3: Courtship Confusion Chapter 1

Part One

“Start blocking the exits, people. They’re making a run for it. Team Lure, you’re up,” the static-y voice says from your radio.

“Confirmed. Lure moving into position,” you answer for yourself and your partner before clipping the walkie talkie back onto your belt. You glance over to your partner who, per usual, looks far too unconcerned and cheerful for the mission of stopping a crew of smugglers. “Where do you want to set up?”

Morgan grins at you, sharp white teeth flashing even in this dim warehouse. “You know where.”

You stifle a grin of your own, knowing one of you needs to remain professional, and roll your eyes instead. “Wherever you can be the center of attention, right.”

He preens as he fluffs out his feathers. You only asked once how exactly his wings can go from resting comfortably and unobtrusively on his back, hardly seeming to take up any space at all, to a full wingspan that was enough to carry him. The highly technical arcane answer he’d given had been enough to serve as a reminder that, despite his carefree attitude, he was a fully licensed arcanist and make sure you never asked again. You’re the investigator and rules side of your inspector partnership—Morgan was the technical and social side. You liked it that way.

A career as an investigator of potentially illegal arcane workings isn’t nearly as glamorous or exciting as most people think it is. Most of the time it was just about handing out fines to people dabbling in things they shouldn’t and accidentally flooding their apartments or conjuring too many hamsters. But, sometimes, like today, you end up having to bust an illegal coven.

When containment spells failed and the criminals scattered, it’s your job to pull them all back. Well, mainly Morgan’s job.

From his high quality suit to his expertly applied eyeliner, he didn’t look the least bit like an inspector. Even the other department arcanists didn’t have his flare. Lively and cheerful where most were bored and weary, he breathed life wherever he went. And he loved to show off.

As you enter the large open area of the warehouse, you quickly begin setting up the broadcasting equipment—probably not needed, but protocol—while Morgan picks his spot. Within a few seconds, your carefully managed set up, ready to unfold for fieldwork in record time, is ready to go. You’re long practiced after being partnered these last couple of years.

Looking up, you find Morgan spreading his gorgeous black and white wings to alight on a stack of old pallets the cult left in this warehouse they’d been using as their base putting him several feet above everyone else.

“Careful!” you call despite knowing it's a lost cause.

Morgan flicks his wings in a careless, shrug-like gesture. “Worrywart,” he teases. You only have to give him a look to remind him of the incident with the ice for him to pout, the dark red of his lipstick making the expression obvious even with the height and distance. “That was one time! Are you set up?”

His voice is easily audible, as always, but you have to raise yours to reply, “Yeah, ready to go.”

He looks at you expectantly.

You put your hands on your hips to communicate ‘really? Do we need to do this every time?’ and he grins in response.

“Let the show begin!” you grudgingly prompt.

He’s no longer a performer by profession, but you can’t deny that's who he is in his heart. It’s hard to begrudge him the little bow he gives. Not when his eyes glitter with simple glee as he does so. “Thank you, darling.” Morgan clears his throat and closes his eyes, thankfully keeping him from noticing the effect the endearment had on you. Regrettably, the effect of him calling you “darling” to you has only gotten stronger with time.

Before you can dwell on it, Morgan makes a sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat. He’s tried to explain to you once why all of his songs started that way, but you’ve never truly understood. Not that it really matters because it’s always followed by him opening his mouth to sing.

A beautiful wordless melody begins to flow from him.

Haunting and alluring on its own, you know his siren song must be far more potent to the criminals he’s purposely luring back here. Every member of the team was introduced to Morgan before the operation began, so Morgan was able to exempt them. His control is impeccable, but they’re still liable to get distracted. Nothing magical about that. It’s hard not to when a master like Morgan sings.

Morgan primarily sings in the siren’s language when he performs spells such as this one. He says that for spellwork there’s simply more nuance and specificity in Soprety than in any other language when it comes to the subject of things such as lures, madness, lullaby and so on.

Despite knowing very little of the language, you still understand the message the song is trying to convey: where are you going? Come back, join me, this is where true happiness lies. Such is the power of a siren’s song. It’s hard to articulate the difference between the magical pull of a compulsion and the mere auditory pull of Morgan’s smooth voice. He’s never truly tried to compel you, but each time you hear him you have to put effort into focusing, into not simply basking in his voice. That’s only gotten worse the longer you’ve known him too, the more times you’ve heard him.

You don’t think it's that his singing is better, it’s only that it had seemed in the beginning, despite it’s obvious beauty even that first time, somewhat generic. Artificially or distantly beautiful. Now, his voice is so clearly entwined with who Morgan is, you can’t fathom how you thought it generic initially. His coaxing nature, always ready to persuade you to follow his lead, is woven through the words he sings as clearly as it is when he tries to convince you to take a coffee break. His promise of something better, something more fun and entertaining, if you only would listen. Of course, in this case, the outcome will only be entertaining for him. His seductive way of complimenting those he wants so that they will make the best choice by choosing him.

The music he makes is all very compelling is the point. You huff and focus back on the messages from the team—text since they’ve all got ear plugs in and don’t want to interfere with Morgan’s spell.  You don’t need the plugs, as his partner he can exempt you easily and you’ve practice functioning while he sings. Besides it's always good to have someone who can hear him in case he does need help. You check again to confirm how many you are nabbing. Seven, natural for a coven, even a criminal one. That means the rest of the operation didn’t manage to catch a single member.

Usually illegal covens are more subtle, caught due to smaller disturbances or the wrong people stumbling upon them on the wrong night. This crew has been smuggling truly nasty ingredients for dark magical spells, bewitching or killing anyone who tried to interfere. They’d been making a big enough splash despite their travels and have caught major heat by now.

The National Investigatory Agency has been tracking them. They followed the trail of memory loss and death they left in their wake. That’s not even mentioning the longer term problems that would impact a community after they’d traded their illegal and dangerous wares—increases in love potions, poisoning, and general curses. You’d managed to catch a break locally. Someone had lost their nerve about this year’s shipment in your city and your department was coordinating with the NIA for this capture. Well, at least your team was—truthfully most of the local office was just providing backup.

Morgan, as always, had a habit of disrupting the usual with just his presence. His skills had been enough to catch the head NIA officer’s attention and your captain had vouched for your effectiveness. As such, while NIA coordinated a wide-spread tracking net, your team would try to simply pull them back. It was a common enough play you two ran and this was no different.

There was some worry a witch might have protection, but most aren’t prepared for a siren song, not given how rare sirens are and especially inland. Besides, you’d unclicked the safety on your tranquilizer gun, that’s why you were here to watch Morgan’s back. He’d be pissed if you let someone interrupt his song.

Movement on your left draws your attention. A woman stumbles out from between to shipping crates, her expression muddled but searching, urgent. You check for the signs she’s ensnared as she walks closer. You’re only supposed to handle the ones who weren’t, so you let her approach once you’re convinced. When she spots Morgan, high on his perch and singing his heart out, a look of joy and greed takes over. She hurries towards him.

You wait a second before nudging a fellow officer with your boot. A transfer from another precinct, he’s not been involved in one of these operations before. He shakes himself, tearing his eyes away from Morgan to look at you. You jerk your head at the coven member and he blushes. Hastily pulling out his handcuffs, the orc goes to secure her while you train your tranq gun on the man darting out from a different doorway. This time an NIA member snags him before he can press up against the base crate Morgan’s on, for which you’re grateful.

Technically, Morgan should have crafted his spell so that the listeners won’t be too desperate to get to him, despite how he was enticing them. People will still react differently than each other so there’s no guarantee when trying to pull in a group like this. Morgan said that the more people, the less control he had over anything more than the base aim of the spell. A lullaby could put ten people to sleep, but they would likely all end up sleeping for different amounts, whereas if it was just one or two, he could control how long they slept for.

Similar thing here. He can pull them in and do his best to keep them calm, but there’s more margin for error. And Morgan’s one of the best there is. Arcane workings are always more complicated and nuanced than most people assume. If they weren’t, you’d be out of a job making sure any mistakes or malicious workings didn’t hurt anyone.

There’s a text that the NIA agents caught a pair on their own, meaning three more to go. It’s not long for them to join the others. The officers who are familiar with these types of stings are efficient, cuffing the ensnared with practiced ease.

You wait for the confirmation, all using sign language to confirm the criminals are secured. That’s your cue to whistle, two fingers in your mouth and loud enough to cut through Morgan’s song—you’ve had to practice. The whistle lets Morgan know you had them all and he flips his hand to show he’s heard. He’d never just cut off the song—for specific arcane reasons, but also because he considers it poor etiquette from a musician’s perspective. He carefully and artfully wraps up and slows down, gentling the song until it fades out.

You can’t help but feel as enraptured as the criminals are, although you try to hide it. It's too hard not to when you’re in love with him.

[miley1442111]

Reader x Rafe. They have only been on a few dates. They do not have a claim on each other. Rafe’s cousing is visting for the weekend, unknown to her, and is a really pretty girl. Rafe posts a photo of her on his story on instagram, having dinner. Reader assumes the worst, that he is keeping his options open and dating others, and it makes her really sad when she only had eyes for him. She is aware that that they have not had a talk about dating others, and she does not have the ’’right’’ to be so sad but still is, wanting him to just feel like her, liking her so much that he does not want to see anyone else. Rafe at some point later after his family/cousin dinner is done, he texts reader at night, asking if she wants to talk on the phone ’missing her voice’ but she just scoffs sadly to herself reading it, now thinking he is just a bit of a pig, thinking she truly meant nothing to him for him to be so casual about it. Unknown to her, Rafe feels exactly the same as her, not wanting anyone but her and is walking in circles at home in panic talking to himself, wondering what he has done. He does not want to be to pushy as they have just started dating so he does not harass her with texts. A few days go by and he sees her at the bonfire with her friends, kind of approaches her like he approached Kie, very gentle and soft. She tries to just keep it short, answering his questions being polite and goes to leave after getting her drink but he is like ’’wow wow wow, wait. You’re not answering my calls. I feel like I’ve done something to upset you and it’s killing me’ and she kind of brings up the girl, not in an accusing way, more so like ’’I get it. You wanna keep your options open. I’m just not comfortable with that because I like you a lot. We had a good run but I guess that is it. Take care of yourself’’ with a sad smile but then he stops her from walking away and clears up the misunderstanding and its a sweet ending

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my promise- r.cameron

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a/n: thank you so much for requesting! sorry to everyone, i've been struggling a lot with writer's block and with college starting up everything has been super busy but I should be back on a fairly regular basis now :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! pogue! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the request

warnings: rafe is a bit of a dick without realising, reader is upset, pogues hate rafe, i think that's it?

+ this rafe is not show-accurate, this is another universe where he can express emotions and recognise how his action affect others :)

not entirely proofread

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Rafe Cameron was a pig. Three months of talking, and he finally asked you out. And now he was on a date with someone else. 

But what else were you expecting from the ‘Kook king’? Your friends were right. You shouldn’t have even bothered with Rafe. He would always be a fucking man-whore with too much money and too little empathy. Of course you were a game to him, what else would you be? You were a pogue. You were nothing in his eyes, just a fuck. You weren’t even his real girlfriend. He had no claim on you, and you had no claim on him. 

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You would’ve genuinely stabbed yourself in the eye if it meant you got to stop watching them interact. Rafe and that blonde girl. You’d never seen her on the island, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t from here. Random people spent summers here every year, a lot of people rented out their houses, especially the rich ones, just so someone would be in their mansions while they were busy in Bali, or the Hamptons, or wherever rich assholes went on holidays. 

She laughed at something he said and you rolled your eyes. “He’s not even fucking funny,” you scoffed. 

JJ rolled his eyes. “I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but-”

“Yeah yeah, you told me, I know,” you sighed. “Thought I could make a kook act like a human, that’s on me,” you held your arms up in defence. You two stood side by side as you shone the cutlery. Serving at the Country Club wasn’t bad, and the tips were good. It’s just you didn’t expect to see him on a date with someone else. 

You got off of work at 8pm, Rafe and the blonde girl were still busy chatting when you left. Jj gave you a lift on his bike and you decided to grab all of Rafe’s things and leave them on his doorstep, not even bothering to explain. You knew what you saw. You knew what he was doing. You didn’t care anymore, you were worth more than that. 

At about 2am you woke up to your phone ringing. 

“Hello?” 

Your groggy voice made Rafe smile. It had been a long night of entertaining his annoying beauty-queen cousin, and he wanted to talk to you, to see you. “Hey baby.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hi Rafe.”

“How was your day?” he asked. 

“Fine,” your answers were short and to the point. You had no interest in entertaining this anymore. “Yours?”

“Boring as fuck,” he chuckled. 

“What did you do today?” you asked, morbid curiosity getting the better of you. You wanted to see if he’d admit it. 

“Nothing much, worked out, golf, went to dinner with family, that’s it.” 

Of course he was lying. And using his family as a cover? Asshole. 

“Why did you call me?” you questioned, trying to act interested, but failing miserably. 

“I missed your voice,” he admitted shyly. 

“Ok, you heard it, night Rafe,” you sighed before hanging up. A part of you was angry. Another was just upset. How could he see other people? You two had a really good thing going, didn’t you? You thought he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. How wrong you were. It just reminded you of why you were so apprehensive to date him in the first place, to date anyone in the first place. Maybe you weren’t enough for him. Maybe you weren’t enough at all. 

You let yourself try to sleep it off, but the next few days you were down, and everyone could tell. Jj had told the others what had happened, and you could see the pitying glances from Kie and the boys, and the annoyed looks from Sarah. She hated him, genuinely, but this was the last straw. She’d told him not to break your heart. She’d warned him. 

“What about the bonfire tonight?” John B offered to the group as the sunset. “That would cheer you up,” he nudged your arm and you grimaced. 

“I don’t feel like going out,” you sighed. “You guys go ahead.”

Sarah sighed. “You can’t let this ruin your week Y/n. He’s a dick, he’ll always be a dick, and it wasn’t your fault for liking him. Every single one of my friends as a kid liked him, then he showed his true colours and he’s a dick again. His behaviour is not a benchmark for your value. He’s in the wrong, not you. Come out with us tonight, even if it’s just for 30 minutes, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, giving in. “Fine.”

----------------

You hadn’t texted him back in three days. He didn’t want to be the pushy ‘be with me all the time’  boyfriend, but he was used to texting you at least once a day. Now you’d left him without a response for 3 whole days. Thinking back, he knew you were being weird during the phone call the other night, and he couldn’t understand what he’d done. Were you losing interest? He hoped you weren’t. You were the only girl who he’d ever been really serious about.  You were the only girl he’d ever felt a real connection with. You were his girl, at least, you would be. 

He pulled up to the bonfire with one thought in mind, find you.

You pulled up to the bonfire with one thought in mind, hide from Rafe. 

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Hiding didn’t exactly last long, especially when he was directly following you around the entire beach. If you went towards the water, he’d come near you, if you went towards the house, he’d come near you, if you went up to the fire, there he just so happened to be, roasting a marshmallow with a big smile on his face. You did notice how he wasn’t carrying around his signature corona, nor was his nose full of white powder. Huh. He’d listened when you said you didn’t like him being ‘uncontrolled’ as you called it, yet he went on a date with another girl. Strange.

You sat away from your friends, by the water, nursing a can of beer. You weren’t a heavy drinker and you’d probably go home after this, since you’d already been at the party for a little while. You watched the sea come in and out. Wave after wave, softly brushing against the shore. 

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice brought you out of your trance. He sat down beside you, dirtying whatever expensive shorts he had on. 

“Hey,” you answered.

“How are you?” He asked, his tone not missing the awkwardness of this moment. He was nervous before coming up to you, but now? Having to come face to face with your cold tone was becoming unbearable pretty quickly. 

“Fine thanks, how are you?” You asked, continuing your staring at the sea. 

“Good. Better, now,” he smiled, placing a hand over yours. “You forgot to text me back.”

“Did I?” you didn’t even try to make yourself sound sincere. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You been busy? How’s work?” 

“It’s fine,” you answered. After a moment of silence, you got up. “I’m going to get another beer-”

“Wait,” he jumped up beside you. “You’re not answering my calls. You’re not talking to me normally. You’re not answering my questions. Have I done something to upset you?”

You scoffed. “I wonder.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean Y/n? You’re killing me here.”

“Look, I get it you want to keep your options open and we were just casual, it’s fine. I’m just not the kind of girl to just be casual with, alright? That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I really liked you. But if you want to go and do that, that’s fine, just don’t bring me into it,” you explained calmly. “Goodbye Rafe.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” he called after you, making you turn back. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you at the Country Club with the blonde girl, Rafe, seriously, your dating life is your own- what?” You stopped talking because Rafe had started pulling a disgusted face. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s my cousin,” he explained. “My super annoying cousin.”

And everything made a bit more sense. The family comment wasn’t a lie. Now that you think about it, they did look pretty similar.

“Oh.”

“You thought we were on a date?” 

“Well it was candle-lit,” you chuckled.

“All the tables at the club are candle-lit past 8pm!” He laughed. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me? You thought I was cheating on you?”

“Well, we haven’t technically said we were dating so… I just assumed you were keeping your options open,” you shrugged. 

Rafe cracked a smile. “You think I’d pick anyone over you?”

You shrugged. “People do.”

“People are fucking stupid,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two walked further down the beach. “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honours of officially being your boyfriend?” 

“Only if you do me the honours of being your girlfriend,” you smiled.  He turned to you and cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. “I’m all yours, promise.”

----------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[axuanmii]

the struggles of kaeluc is that its actually one hundred percent completely fucking fine (and if you read any danmei it makes a lot of sense why, like not even in a incest fetish sense just. genuine love.) but nobody will listen to you because they lack media literacy and choose to attack and block you and call you a freak for liking it instead of like, accepting that maybe the english version of genshin is not perfect and doesn't convey the complexity of some characters' relationships that well than it does in chinese.

like this reddit post sums it up better than i ever could and i go insane every day knowing that people can't publicly like kaeluc in western online spaces without being ostracized and blocked by other people in fandom. and all of it comes from a side-along misunderstanding.

now genshin's not done and they could totally either make kaeluc get married or cut it all out by straight up having them call each other brothers in the future but for now. in this liminal space. i will exist sadly.

idk, i find it very annoying to see people shit on kaeluc/luckae. tumblr is okay though i think.

[slut4celebs]

You're Not Just My Best Friend

Gracie Abrams x Reader

Word Count: 1,505 words

Trigger Warning: miscommunications, public displays of affection

Synopsis: 1) Guys, I had to turn to ChatGPT for some writing ideas because I'm head empty from midterm season soooo please request. 2) Here is the angsty fic idea it gave me. In which the pressure of tour and her feelings for the R becomes overwhelming, Gracie decides to talk to R about it. Only, the conversation leads to a misunderstanding and fallout. R still can't help but go to Gracie's show after a message from her brother and the two confront each other and their feelings.

Requests are open. < Please guys, on my knees begging.

Gracie Abrams handpicked (Y/n) (L/n) to be her friend of their first day of kindergarten. On that same day, they held a wedding on the playground and Gracie kissed (Y/n) and told her she'd love her forever. From that day on, she kept her vow to always love her, it being a sacred promise that she held to her chest. Their bond could be categorized as intense and passion, even when they tried to date other people. Truth be told, no relationship between them and anyone else could last since they were always on a collision course to this exact moment in time. Now, Gracie was standing in front of (Y/n), ready to pour her heart out and put their friendship on the line. If only she hadn't started it with "I can't be your friend anymore."

The statement sounded like glass shattering into a million people, scattering around her. It made (Y/n) afraid to move, to stand, to say anything as she processed Gracie's words. Due to Gracie's silence as she picked the words carefully in her head, not communicating them out loud, (Y/n) took this as a statement that solidified the end of their decade long friendship. She always thought that they would end up more, not just end entirely. Apparently that feeling wasn't shared, as it seemed that Gracie was just dumping her onto the curb while in a city far from home.

A million thoughts hit her simultaneously, making her spiral. Couldn't Gracie have thought of this sooner? Where was she going to stay tonight? How was she going to get home? She had, after all, quit her part-time job to be one of Gracie's social media organizers. It was really just Gracie's way to bring her on tour, putting her on her payroll. It took forever for Gracie to even convince her, and now she was just dropping her. Was there someone else? Had she done something wrong? Her head began to hurt and she grew nauseous, and she finally stood right when Gracie was finally finding her words, thoughts finally connecting together.

"So, you mean to tell me that you convinced me to come on tour with you just for you to tell me you can't be my friend anymore?" She hated the way her eyes welled up with tears, causing her to take a sharp intake of breath. (Y/n) couldn't allow herself to cry in that moment. She bit her lip to stable her wobbly lip as she cleared her throat, trying to find the right words. But there was no words, and Gracie couldn't respond quick enough. "God, Gracie, I left a stable job to come here with you. I dropped everything for you. We're in New York fucking city… I can't even look at you right now."

Gracie's eyes were wide as she watched (Y/n) make a break for her tour bus door. She quickly caught her wrist, brown eyes pleading for her to stay. Her words were caught in her throat, blocked by a sob due to (Y/n)'s retreating figure. Why couldn't she just confess her love right then and there. All she wanted to say was that she had always loved her and she will always love her. Nothing had changed from their kindergarten wedding. But, somehow, she managed to ruin it. "No, (Y/n), please. I was trying to-"

"Trying to what, Gracie?" There was her opening, the opportunity needed to get her thoughts out. But she didn't take it. (Y/n) shook her head, tears finally spilling over her tear line. Yanking her wrist from Gracie's tight hold as she silently begged her to stay, (Y/n) headed out the door into the New York streets. She, unfortunately, had the pleasure to be met head on with fans who recognized her from Gracie's lives and Instagram posts, and they attempted to ask for photos. (Y/n) had to wade through them, trying to remain polite as she made her way to a hotel, her phone battery a little too low for her liking. Thankfully, the girl at the front desk let her borrow a charger before she booked a room. Once her phone was in significantly better health, she made her way up to her room, allowing herself to finally breakdown and grieve what had just happened on the bus.

She wasn't expecting a call to wake her up in the late afternoon. Blinking away her sleepiness, her brows furrowed when she saw it was from Henry, Gracie's older brother. She let her brain process for a moment before answering. "Hey, (Y/n), sorry to call you so randomly. I.. I heard about you and Gracie, and I know this isn't my place, but you should go to her show tonight." He said solemnly, as if he just lost her, too. In a way, he had. If she wasn't friends with Gracie, there wouldn't be a real reason for her to come to the Abrams home anymore.

(Y/n) let a hand run down her face. She couldn't believe Henry was actually trying to find himself in the middle of this. Ever the diffuser, she found herself realizing this was kind of his niche. With that said, it wasn't any of his business. "You're right, Henry, this isn't your place. So, please, just fuck off." She groaned, ending the call and closing her eyes. She looked at the time and knew that Gracie was at soundcheck. She had missed over twenty phone calls from her from last night and this morning, and she had a dozen texts. Maybe Gracie regretted it. She shook her head. Gracie didn't deserve any grace from the situation. She had pulled (Y/n) all the way across the nation just to end their friendship. Still, for one final goodbye, she was going to go to this stupid show and rebreak her stupid heart.

She adorned her outfit from last night, jeans and a hoodie with 'The Secret of Us' on it. It was exclusive and made for just Gracie's team. She pulled out her pass, thankful she still had her wallet because of her other belongings were on the bus. She didn't have an actual seat, usually sitting behind stage, so she leaned on an entrance way. After Role Model's performance, Gracie came on. Admittedly, she did look a little disheveled, not that the fans would notice these little quirks that made Gracie look unlike herself. (Y/n) didn't have time to dwell on it as Gracie started speaking.

"Okay, so… I was going to sing Close To You first, but… I've changed my mind. There's this girl that I've loved since kindergarten. We got married the day we met and I kissed her. I told her I loved her, but when it mattered most, I couldn't tell her I still love her in the way I meant it when I was little. The innocent kind of love, only it's now more passionate." Gracie swallowed, looking at her deep blue converse. (Y/n) was watching with fresh tears, and when Gracie looked up, their eyes met. "Here's I miss you, I'm sorry." She announced.

(Y/n) wiped tears from her cheeks as she listened to Gracie sing, her heart racing. At the end of the song, Gracie passed her guitar to one of the people on stage before getting off the stage. Everyone's eyes were on her as she almost ran to (Y/n). As she made her way to her childhood best friend, their lips crashed. It was a movie moment, where the camera would spin around the couple and emotionally charged music would play. It was their moment as their tears mingled into the kiss, the taste of salt on their tongues. The crowd was cheering but it was drowned out. When the two finally parted, a silent message passed between them. They were going to be alright, and yeah… They couldn't be friends anymore because they weren't just friends. "(Y/n), you're not just my best friend. I love you."

(Y/n) felt her breathe hitch as she nodded softly. Her head was spinning from their intense kiss and she connected their lips again. "I love you, too," she said, looking up at Gracie. Worry was still ever-present in her eyes and she smiled softly. "We're okay. We're girlfriends now, or whatever." She said in a soft whisper, both chuckling. Then, they both remembered where they were. "Go, Abrams, I'll be right here, cheering you on." She nodded. Gracie smiled a bit, kissing her again on the lips and once more but on the forehead this time before returning on stage. Everything was different, their collision course causing their universes to come together as one. Then again, when had it ever been two separate universes. They've always been just one entity, in the long run. It was always going to be (Y/n) and Gracie together, just as they had promised the day they met.

[kidasthings]

Echoes of Eden by Kida

Noa x Mae - #theystillgotthoseskeletons

Chapter 1: Echoes of Eden by Kida – @kidasthings on Tumblr

Next Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/kidasthings/751031002718240768/echoes-of-eden-by-kida?source=share

Chapter 2

Mae found Noa outside the makeshift sky tower, the hawks still cartwheeling across the heavens like avenging angels.

“Stop!” Mae demanded, flanked by an assortment of curious apes who had crowded at the entrance to the building behind her while they held their conversation. Her face was slack with dismay. “What do you plan to do to them?”

Noa didn’t spare her a glance back. His attention was fully focused on the five captives before him, and his expression was stormy.

To their credit, the human hostages held his gaze, if a bit wavering. Finally, a dark-haired man schooled his face into some semblance of bravado and demanded, “Let us go and you’ll never see us again.”

“I know what … you are capable … of,” Noa replied in his steady, halting manner. The crease between his brow ridges deepened, and now he stole a dark look at the anxious human woman at his back in rebuke.

“Listen to him, to us,” Mae interjected, sprinting over, and swinging out in front of Noa, hands spread wide as if she could protect her own people from the worst of his. “This was a misunderstanding. He never meant to find this place.”

Lips half-parted, the hero of the Eagle Clan glowered at the young woman with the blue eyes and the side-plait in her hair. He had hoped, many times, to see her again. It had been against his best judgement of course, but there lived some small, treacherous part of his psyche that yearned for the sight of a certain duplicitous human female.

But to what end?

With a heavy heart, Noa requested that the five captives be blindfolded. They were tightly bound when they began to struggle in earnest, their eyes covered with strips of animal hide that blocked out the dimming world around them. The humans shuffled uneasily once the apes were done; their fear was palpable in the cool evening air.

An elder stepped forward, one of the few council that survived the original invasion by Sylva's raiders.

"If you will not be forthcoming ... with your purpose ... then banishment is … necessary.” The elder, an older chimpanzee wearing many colored stones, nodded to Noa. "Cast them out."

Mae flicked panicked looks between the scowling Noa and the writhing humans as they were at last secured. In desperation, she bounded forward and clung to Noa’s arm. It was like a live wire, feeling her fingers sink into his short fur. “You can’t..”

Noa felt it instantly, his entire body stiffening in response for half a heartbeat.

Short-lived, the young ape just shook her off as if she were an annoying gnat and stepped away. He did not even deign to look her in the eye. “Let’s go.”

Noa led the procession, his strides purposeful yet laden with an unspoken sorrow. The path they took was intentionally convoluted, winding through the dense undergrowth and over streams that glittered faintly under the first stars. The sounds of the forest, usually comforting, now carried a tense silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the soft thuds of footsteps.

Mae followed close behind, her heart torn. The pendant around her neck - a symbol of peace and a painful reminder of the bond she shared with Noa - felt heavier with each step. She watched Noa’s broad back, the set of his shoulders speaking of a burden she could only guess at.

She could not ascertain how long they walked. An hour? Four?

Soona and Anaya, Noa’s close friends and trusted members of the clan, traveled alongside the group. Their expressions were unreadable, their usual warmth hidden behind a mask of duty. The small group of apes from the village flanked the humans, their presence a silent warning against any thought of escape.

After what felt like forever, Noa finally halted. The group had ventured deep into the forest, far from any familiar trail. He signaled to the others, who carefully removed the blindfolds from the human captives. Blinking against the sudden influx of dim light, the humans looked around, disoriented and unable to recognize any part of the forest while the small contingent of Eagle Clan villagers began to remove the bonds from the captives. Sighing and rubbing her raw wrists in relief, the woman with the bob stepped back behind the four men with which she traveled. Each was attired in worn camouflage uniforms streaked with dirt, no doubt earned on their long, treacherous journey.

Turning to Mae, Noa’s voice was soft, conflicted. "Take them with you," he instructed, his eyes not meeting hers. "Without … their weapons. This is where we part … ways again."

Mae opened her mouth to reply, her emotions swirling, when sudden movement caught her eye. One of the human men, his expression desperate, revealed a hidden knife he had somehow kept out of sight. In a swift motion, he grabbed the closest ape within reaching distance. Unfortunately, this turned out to be the naïve Anaya. The man, the dark-haired one who had spoken up earlier, began pressing the blade against the ape’s throat.

The forest erupted into chaos. The apes growled, their bodies tensed for a fight, but Noa raised a hand, signaling them to hold. “I thought they were searched!”

Mae’s hand instinctively moved to the small pistol hidden in her belt - a secret she had kept even from Noa. "Let him go," she said firmly to Anaya’s aggressor, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Mae became hyper-aware her allegiance was being assessed right there in front of both species.

The human’s eyes were wild, his fear palpable. "We need a guarantee we’ll get out of here safely," he demanded, his voice shaking.

“Was he … not checked for weapons?” someone could hear Soona say incredulously.

Noa’s gaze finally met Mae’s, filled with a mix of betrayal and pleading. The complexity of their relationship, marked by trust and tension, hung heavily between them.

Mae took a slow, deep breath, her decision clear. "No one needs to get hurt," she addressed the other human, her tone even. She spoke to him like one would a spooked horse. "Let him go, and I’ll ensure your safety. You know I know where you’re heading."

The tall man hesitated, his grip on the knife faltering as he searched Mae's face for sincerity. After a tense moment, he simply shook his head and gritted his teeth. “His life,” the man stated chillingly, “for our guns and supplies.”

Anaya began to struggle anew when the knife was temporarily lifted. Grunting, the man returned the blade to his victim’s furry throat and the young ape stilled in fear. Had the man grabbed any other villager, he would have been quickly overpowered and brought to his knees with a fully cracked cranium. It was well known that the strength of apes was five times greater, after all. Lucky for him, Anaya was a gentle, fearful soul that did not go looking for trouble; he stood compliantly like a deer in headlights waiting for the crash.

Noa lifts his hands, palms up and out, and breathed in deeply. His nose flared, as if scenting the air. Around them, the palpable tension of the other apes increased as they hissed and growled.

The man with the knife began backing up, and the four others with him began to back up as well. The others in his group stole nervous glances amongst each other, not entirely on board with the fifth man’s spur-of-the-moment choices – sadly, they were far too late to alter them.

“Last chance. Release him,” Noa’s voice dripped darkly.

“No can do, buddy. Not until we have our stuff.” The man’s eyes flicked to Mae. “Look, I don’t know what you are doing with these animals, but maybe you can convince them it’s better to just give us our packs?”

Mae was so frustrated she could curse.

Both she and Noa’s eyes met for only a second, and one sentiment was wordlessly exchanged in that moment.

Shit.

“We don’t need the guns, really,” the only other human woman piped up, stepping carefully forward. All heads swung her way. “We just need our bags. You have something of ours we really need back.”

From just above knifepoint, Anaya’s wild eyes pleaded with Noa and Mae to do something, anything.

Noa began to chant.

Mae stiffened in surprise, her guarded expression shifting curiously.

Above, far above, the circling eagles gathered.

The mantra came to a crescendo, and the others – Soona, the other apes, even Anaya, began to join in.

A dark, darting shape dropped like a missile from the sky and daggered its way towards the face of the man holding the blade. He screamed, dropped the weapon, and a quicksilver wink of light fell to the grass.

Another bird plummeted from the sky, followed by yet another. They each found a suitable target in each human, ominously sparing Mae.

“Noa!” Mae cried in alarm, unable to watch birds of prey ravage the humans in front of her. She scrambled forward, knees hitting the ground, and reached back for the pistol from the seaside bunker on her belt. It was still conveniently concealed beneath a blue jacket, thankfully remaining out of sight from Noa’s people. The sting of tears pricked her eyes as she became wracked with indecision.

Humans, immune like her, being disfigured by birds. How was this even possible?

Despite her inner turmoil, self-preservation stayed her hand.

Noa nodded at Mae, a silent acknowledgment mingled with sadness. Perhaps it was to mollify her, perhaps not, but a marked change began. His tribal songs ceased, fading away with the night wind.

"Why is it so hard?" he murmured, more to himself than to her.

The five humans fell to the ground, clutching their faces. Red rivulets streamed down the back of their hands through the spaces in their fingers.

Anaya broke away once released, huffing heavily as he shot over to the group of apes beyond Mae.

Thank you, he signed to Noa, who grabbed him by the forearms and checked him for injuries just as Soona met them halfway. A suspicious stare was leveled Mae’s way by the female ape, almost accusatory, but she did not have much time before she began to fuss over Anaya. “Are you … okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Fine,” he puffed, exhaling deeply.

Noa released Anaya just as the Fort Wayne group scuttled backwards, their faces unrecognizable after being ravaged by talons. “Traitor!” one shot out at Mae, voice laced with pain.

Mae flinched, struck back by the accusation.

“Bitch,” another cursed. They stood up, scuttled backwards. The dark-haired man that had held Anaya hostage groped the grass before him, searching for something before abandoning the effort.

“Go, while you still can,” Noa intoned chillingly.

A bunch of hoots and howls from the assembled apes backed him up on that threat, and the injured humans wasted no time in scrambling and falling backwards, half running, half limping away.

Soon they were nothing but crackling twigs, grunts, and whispering foliage in the distance.

Mae watched them go, unable to react to what she just witnessed. Far above her, a hawk shrieked in rage.

Noa reached out, his hand brushing against hers for a brief, electric moment.

Breaking her stasis, she glanced down for a march of moments between them. Noa closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and flared his nostrils before turning away from her burning stare.

A pregnant pause followed.

With a final, lingering look, Mae took a step in the direction of the other humans but couldn’t find the strength to go. As the night grew deeper, the sounds of the forest resumed their nocturnal chorus.

Mae clenched her fists tightly at her side, molars grating against each other. An enraged expression stole across her features for a moment, the continual strain of restraint etched there.

The young woman then recalled something interesting mentioned by the sole woman in the group during the confrontation.

“We just need our bags. You have something of ours we really need back.”

No, she couldn’t mean –

Mae whirled on the spot. With her back straight but her spirit burdened, she shifted back towards Noa decisively.

It came all too late to Mae that she was suddenly following a group of apes back to their village like an odd wraith. The taste was bitter on the back of her tongue, but the thought of leaving behind something critically important would taste far worse.

I need to reach their supplies.

For the sake of all that was good and holy, she needed to do this – after all, the very future of humanity depended on it.

[olderthannetfic]

Okay, I need advice: I'm in a very tiny fandom (like less than two dozen active people and everyone knows each other) and one of the women in it is kind of freaking me out.

We became mutuals because we had some good discussions on some of the characters we liked, but I soon became sort of uncomfortable with a lot of her online behavior whereas simultaneously she's DM-ing me more and more.

She's one of those people who's a hardliner on the issues she cares about (mostly feminism- and SA-related) while talking over people when it comes to issues she doesn't care about (mostly racism and related things). And I see a lot of her trying to intrusively police how other people talk/act, derailing people's posts, arguing with people online over the most stupid shit (where not even her own opinions come off as overly coherent - this week she'll argue something along the lines of "men are evil" and the next she'll argue that people are "demonizing masculinity" - I'll add for clarification that she's not a TERF and supports trans rights but boy... Does she sound like one sometimes) and then digging through people's profiles to find and publicize minor transgressions and bad takes, passive-aggressive vagueposting, and going into mental breakdowns over the most innocuous of online interactions.

TBH she scares me. As someone who suffered through toxic people getting overly attached to me, I genuinely sometimes get a physical reaction when I see her lashing out on the dash.

And she keeps initiating conversations! And sometimes I don't reply or bring the conversation to a natural closure and she keeps at it, or sends me random fics of hers to read that I don't have the heart to tell her don't interest me or whatever. And recently when she disagrees with something I reblogged she direct messages me to rant about it - with a lot of sort of indirect language because she doesn't want to offend me but I can see the intent. The last couple of times I replied politely because I cared about clearing misunderstandings on the topic but next time I'm just gonna tell her I dislike it when she does that.

I really want this person to stop interacting with me, to be honest, and all my polite hints to the effect go unnoticed. But the fandom is so small I feel awkward and uncomfortable about unfollowing or blocking her. I don't think she's too bad of a person, she just comes off as very... Mentally ill, I guess? And since I've tried to be polite so far I feel like it might come out of left field for her?

TBH I feel like something about her behavior also triggers some kind of freeze/fawn reaction inside of me that I don't often get and consequently don't know how to deal with.

So I need impartial advice because I don't see the situation clearly myself

--

To summarize, a person who is a walking red flag wants to be friends, and you can't easily ghost her because the fandom is small.

I think you have to accept that there is no low-conflict way out of this.

That's what's holding you back, right? You don't want more drama and you know it's coming. I think you already know in your heart of hearts that you need to get away from her even if it's a pain in the ass.

Step one is to stop responding to her DMs. That will probably make her reach out more, but you should keep not responding. If she escalates and attacks you over it, block her.

The more you offer reasons or try to gently hint, the more that will encourage her. I don't think that's true of everyone, but I do think it's the case here. This is both because it doesn't sound like she's good at perceiving or respecting boundaries and because she inspires a bad lack of ability to assert boundaries in you.

I agree that it's unfortunate that you can't stand up for yourself or tell her plainly when she's out of line, but since you can't and that probably won't change any time soon, you'll need to protect yourself a different way. Sometimes, we just have to avoid people who are bad for us even when it's an us problem. (And here, whoaaaa red flags, so I don't think it's just a you problem anyway.)

There are many sad, lonely, needy people in the world. Some of them are officially mentally ill in some way with a diagnosis. Some just need things they aren't currently getting. That sucks...

But it's also not your job to fix.

[isaadleer]

misunderstanding

Sumary: Young Arthur and you are good friends until you catch feelings for him, maybe was a good idea to forget him with another man, or not. Warning!¡:, fluff¿. nothing’ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader, Jealous Arthur.

It's been some time since you've been going to the town, but this time not for camp supplies, but to meet your new interest, Jerry Clinton, who works at the town’s post office. His skin is tanned with some freckles on his face, his eyes as green as grass, and his hair is brown like yours. To your surprise, Clinton doesn’t mind your social status or your company, meaning the grim outlaws you hang out with. However, his colleagues are quite the opposite; their looks say more than repulsive words.

The only people you've ever loved were Michael, a cute boy you had a crush on as a child and your first kiss. And certainly, Arthur. How much you love him, or loved him, how much you wished for something you couldn’t have or perhaps gave up on something that made you happy.

Your friendship with Arthur has always been very important to you, and to him too; it varied from deep conversations around the campfire to silly jokes and teasing between you two. Maybe it was the age, 18 and 20, or because you made each other happy. And so it continues, the only difference being that he doesn’t know you love him. Loved.

On a sunny morning, with birds singing in tune with your thoughts, you decide to go to town to see Jerry, but you are unfortunately or fortunately interrupted by Arthur on your way.

"Hey! Where are you going?" he questioned, blocking your way to your horse.

"To town, why?" you questioned him back, looking deeply into his eyes, impatient

Arthur was wearing a blue shirt, his typical black bandana, and the hat he’s worn since you met him, the one you like a lot.

“I bet you’re hiding something from me, always having a reason to go to town,” he said, suspicious of your trips.

“Maybe because it’s none of your business!” you exclaimed, continuing to walk and ignoring his presence.

You’ve fantasized so much about what your life would be like with Arthur, loved so much, talked so much, that sometimes you easily get annoyed by his complaints.

All that dirt dirtying your boots, your hair blowing in the wind, your skirt too tight, but of course, what’s really bothering you isn’t that, it’s Arthur trying to meddle in your life. You wanted him to meddle in your life, oh how you wanted it, but not this way.

"Why did you stay out so late yesterday?" he persisted, now walking alongside you.

“I was- was at the general store, buying some stuff…” you quickly replied, trying to explain.

“I know when you’re lying, stop it, tell the truth!” he said harshly, blocking your way, preventing you from getting on the horse.

“Let me get on the horse, Arthur,” you said in a low tone, already losing patience with his questions.

“No, until you tell me why you’re going to town, I won’t let you go anywhere,” he said, looking straight into your eyes.

Arthur was sometimes hard to understand, why does he care so much about this now? Only now?

Ignoring the fact that he’s an outlaw, a murderer, and much taller than you, “You don’t have to let anything; I’ll do what I please.”

Arthur continued to look at you in silence, and after a few seconds, you realized you wouldn’t go anywhere unless you said something.

"I'm just going to talk to a friend, that’s all." You said, lowering the tone that was high before, with a bit of shame.

He noticed your cheeks, which were pale before, turning pink in the blink of an eye.

“What do you need to talk to him?” He frowned and crossed his arms defensively.

“Really, Arthur? You need to know what I’m going to talk to him about?” you teased him, mocking his questions.

“I don’t care…” he suddenly changed his mind, which was unexpected. “Person… Person needs supplies for the camp.” He changed the subject.

“And?” You asked, in a hurry to get to town, not understanding what this had to do with you.

“We should go now; you need to help the camp, you know that, right sweetheart?” he said sarcastically.

“Don’t call me that, and, I do help with the camp, Arthur.” Chills ran through your whole body when he called you that, wanting to deny it, but deep down, you wanted it to be true.

“Let’s go then,” he said, guiding you to the wagon. “Or maybe you enjoy his company more than mine,” He offered a hand to help you onto the wagon.

“Don’t make me say it,” you replied, laughing, accepting his help.

The journey was calm despite all the recent confusion; you talked normally as good friends do.

But your mind is on only one thing, how would you talk to Jerry in the presence of dear Arthur? Maybe you should lose Arthur, or maybe lose Jerry and enjoy Arthur’s company. Lost in your thoughts, you are awakened by the noise of the town, people talking, working, horses walking, wagons moving, construction, all that, even though you often come to town, you don’t really like.

“Why do you need to dress up? Are you trying to impress someone else?” Arthur suddenly said after a short silence. With eyes narrowing with a sharp, intense stare.

“What-” your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “I’m not…” you touched your warm cheeks.

“You’re looking like tomato sauce now,” He said, giving a fake laugh, looking at you, trying to lighten the mood.

“Stop it, Arthur!” you shouted at him.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” He parked the wagon. “We’ve arrived.”

“Thank god!” you said, getting out of the wooden wagon, feeling your butt almost turn square from sitting for so long.

“Let’s go to the general store, after that, you’re free,” he said.

So you both entered the store, immediately smelling the scent of fresh fruits like apples and pears, which are your favorites.

“Smells so good…” you said softly to yourself. But Arthur looked at you smiling; he probably heard you.

Person’s list was huge, taking quite a while to box all the supplies. To carry to the wagon, you picked up one of the boxes, lifting it to shoulder height. The box was heavier than you thought, causing you to let out a small sound of surprise.

“Let me carry that for you,” Arthur said after watching your struggle, placing his hands around the box.

Your faces were so close to each other that you could feel Arthur’s breath, his eyes penetrating yours. Your heart started to beat faster than usual, and that feeling you tried so hard to hide came back for a few moments. Arthur’s beautiful blue eyes so close to you, you could clearly see his eyeball. The scar on his chin, you still remember when he returned to camp with his chin bleeding, and you remember even more when you helped clean it and bandage it. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, for some reason you thought. But you thought many things over the years, and none were true but daydreams.

“I can carry it alone,” You said in a tense, clipped tone.

Even trying to remove Arthur’s hands from the box, he was stronger, and continued holding the box. His mouth opened for a second, trying to say something, but he didn’t… why didn’t he?

Instead, he sighed deeply and took the box from your hands, “Don’t be stupid,”

So Arthur and the shopkeeper loaded all the boxes onto the wagon, not letting you help in any way. You weren’t weak, it was just unexpected, a box that was heavier than you expected. But with that act, Arthur didn’t let you even touch them anymore.

He closed the back of the wagon once he finished organizing everything,

“I need to go to the post office to deliver a letter Person asked for,” Arthur informed.

Your heart stopped, Arthur and Jerry together in the same place? Not even your worst nightmare was that bad.

“Oh,” You exclaimed, with a face like you had seen a ghost in front of you.

“What?” He found your sudden reaction strange.

“Nothing. Let’s go.” You said, trying to hide your nervousness, guiding him to start walking.

Entering the post office, the familiar yellow walls came into view, and the first thing you looked for was Jerry.

Without waiting for you, Arthur went to the clerk to deliver Person’s letter. But to your unfortunate luck, something, or rather someone, touched your shoulder.

“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you here,” A sarcastic voice echoed through the post office. You turned to see who it was, and yes, you know who it was.

“Hey!” You turned around, changing your worried expression to a light and happy one, hugging Jerry, greeting him.

“How are you? Need to post a letter?” He said jokingly.

“Yeah -“ You were interrupted.

“Yes, we already did actually,” Arthur said seriously, placing a hand on your shoulder, with a slightly heavier touch than usual.

You found the boy’s physical contact strange, which wasn’t common, but then you understood what he was trying to do.

Ruin things between you and Jerry.

Even though he’s very young, this act was the height of selfishness and idiocy. When you realized what was happening, you felt like a knife was in your heart, breaking it into pieces. So disappointing, so disappointed you were.

Jerry looked at Arthur’s hand, at your face, and then at Arthur’s face. And his expression that was happy before, was now of complete unhappiness.

"I didn’t know you had company," Jerry said, looking deep into your eyes, ignoring Arthur’s presence, feeling betrayed.

"I don’t—" you tried to say but were interrupted by Arthur once again.

"Yes, I proposed to her a week ago, isn’t it incredible?" Arthur lied, drumming his fingers impatiently on your shoulder—a lie only you knew was false.

"Congrats. If you’ll excuse me, sir, miss," Jerry said briefly, and he left without even trying to understand or talk to you, visibly upset by Arthur’s words. Upset because he thought you had lied, but it wasn’t you—it was Arthur.

Watching Jerry walk away, you tore Arthur’s hand off your shoulder and rushed out of the post office. Your heart pounded in your throat, as if you were going to vomit at any moment—vomit all those feelings. The shame and anger you felt were indescribable, and the urge to kill Arthur at that exact moment was inevitable.

Arthur followed you out of the building after just a few seconds.

Standing with your back to the post office entrance, you turned and started yelling at him, "What is wrong with you? Why did you do that to me? Why did you lie?" Arthur seemed irritated with you somehow, and upset for some reason. "You ruined everything, Arthur! Why did you do that? He really liked me!" you said, almost crying in front of him.

You weren’t just talking—you were shouting, ignoring the fact that you were in the busiest street in town.

"And you liked him? I saw how you looked at him. You don’t like him!" he shouted back, causing everyone around to stare.

"Then why did you do that?" A tear escaped down your cheek.

"Because i love you! Not him!" Arthur said quickly, as if he had lifted a weight off his shoulders that he had been carrying for a long time.

All this time that you hid your feelings, all this time that you tried to replace him with someone else—he had liked you too. You felt like an idiot, stupid for not having said anything before. But even with Arthur’s confession, you were feeling anger towards him, because Jerry was a boy you cared for, even if you didn’t love him.

"You had no right to do that to me, you idiot!" you shouted, frustrated with everything that was happening.

The fact that Arthur upset Jerry, that you upset Jerry, the fact that Arthur loves you, the fact that you loved him—or still love him. You no longer knew if this was just a nightmare or a dream, or the cruel reality.

Arthur went quiet—quieter than he had ever been in his entire life.

"I loved you, goddamn bastard! But that doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want or hurt others." Your tears had already spread across your face, making you wipe them away with your trembling hands. "When you went out with that waitress, I didn’t stop you, even though it hurt me so much! I didn’t go there and pretend to be your fiancé!"

Arthur's eyes were studying your movements, trying to understand everything you were saying—so confusing for both him and you.

"I’m sorry, okay?" he said, feeling a burning sensation in his chest.

"No! You’re not sorry! I’m done with you, Arthur—done with your selfish behavior, done with you."

Without looking back, you walked over to the wagon, untied one of the horses, and mounted it.

Leaving Arthur there, perplexed, lost, completely directionless.

You could no longer bear the weight you felt in your heart. Your tears fell non-stop, your hair flying in the wind as you rode away.

You didn’t know where you were going, but you didn’t want to see Arthur’s face again.

————————————————————————

[officialspec]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

[boiohboii]

Our wedding menu (Lando Norris x reader)

When your friend leaves you to entertain yourself you decide to try something really new.

or

in which you wanted to have fun and a really handsome, curly haired british boy is your victim.

N.B: just a silly little drabble inspired by this video, hope you guys like it! WARNINGS: not proof read, spelling mistakes maybe? Also, don't do that in public, this is just for fun really. Let me know what you guys think!

masterlist

When people are bored they watch a movie, read a book or maybe go outside and look around. But you weren't feeling like doing any of those things, your friend has left you to go on a date and honestly you can't blame her, the guy was extremely handsome and so so polite, which is why you are currently sitting in a cafe doing what you do best- people watching.

There was an old couple sharing their lunch and smiling (they are what anyone dreams of, in Monaco with each other after however many years of marriages), there was an employee on the phone behind the counter probably arguing with someone by the movements in her hands and the chewing of her own lips, and there was a group of guys (fuck off, why are they so handsome) who you are pretty sure are famous- if the guys, girls and old rich people coming up every few minutes asking for photos and autographs weren't enough of a sign the billboards you've seen scattered around Monaco in your short visit of 4 out of these 9 guys (that's a big ass friend group) were confirmation of them being models at least (which adds up to these looks).

Now you weren't much of a jokester in front of strange people, especially not a group of 9 handsome guys, but hey life is all about trying new things which is why you decided it'd be fun to try and see what their reactions would be.

Standing up you rushed out of the cafe, was it a good idea? No. Did you have enough social energy to pull this off? No. Do you have enough confidence to talk to one handsome dude who is in the middle of his handsome friends? Also no. But none of that stopped you from going to the burger truck a few blocks down asking for 2 double cheeseburgers and 2 chocolate frosties. After taking your receipt you stood in line, waiting for your order.

"I love their variety so much! Everything is available"

"Yes! I am so happy that they have no meat options"

Oh shit. What if he's vegan!

Leaving your place in the line you went back to the cashier and ordered the most appealing name from their non meat menu.

After finally having your food in hand you went back the same way stopping in front of a flower shop, what flowers should you get? would he even accept the flowers? What if he's allergic to flowers?

Opening up Google you searched for the flowers that don't cause allergies, seeing roses on top of the list you decided to get a small bouquet of 4 roses before placing it carefully in your bag (in another zipper away from the food).

Entering the cafe for the 2nd time today you took a look around, extremely happy that the barista kept her word and made sure that all of the tables are taken and the only chair empty is besides the curly haired boy laughing at something his friends have said.

"Hi, I'm sorry to interupt but can I sit here?"

You asked as you looked around the table, upon seeing all of them looking at each other you explained further "it's just that there's no other chairs available, as soon as there is one I'll be gone, promise"

"Oh yes, of course, you can stay as long as you want"

The guy with green? or is it blue? eyes replied, while everyone else gestured for you to take a seat.

"Thank you," as you placed your bag you asked the one question that would decide if you should move on with whatever it was you were going to do "oh, sorry, do you have a girlfriend? I don't want to overstep or make any misunderstandings" you asked the victim of your plan, upon shaking his head you took a seat.

Sitting down you decided to start your plan, fishing the necklace out of the small zipper you turned to the boy sitting beside you holding the necklace between both of you

"Can you please do this for me? I can't reach"

All chatter around the table stopped, you can feel 9 pairs of eyes on you as you gave the boy a small, apologetic smile.

"Oh, uhh- yeah of course," ohhh, he's british, damn you might actually fall in love "let me just figure out how it works."

As he clasped the necklace together you thanked him, moving onto your next step which consisted of you bending down to get your mirror and your lipstick out of the bag, staying in your position you moved the bag a bit to the right before adjusting yourself a bit so that what you're doing would be noticed. Not bringing your mirror onto the table but still visible enough for the 9 guys to see you applying a new layer of lipstick, you can hear them questioning what you are doing and it just made you want to get up and run back to your hotel room.

You already started, no going back now.

Being satisfied with how the lipstick looked you placed it back in the bag before sitting properly, smiling at the blue eyed guy in front of you.

Waiting a bit so that the guy besides you isn't speaking to someone before you move onto the main plan.

Upon seeing him get his phone out you decided to go ahead, it's now or never

"We had a date, no?" you whispered to him as to not get the attention of his friends, at least not this soon.

The man blinked at you before looking around him, wanting to make sure you are talking to him "I'm sorry?"

Before he could even question you any further he saw roses within his eyesight

"These are for you," you pushed the bouquet into his frozen hands "hope it smells as good as you"

Red started covering his face, looking around at his friends, who quietened down as soon as they saw the red roses, searching for an explanation.

When you kept looking at him with that smile he let out a small thanks before smelling the flowers.

Okay, nice, so far so good, why is he so flustered oh my god, he's the cutest.

"Oh, I also bought burgers"

"I'm sorry, what is this about?"

"I also bought drinks, one is oreo and one is hershey, well it was supposed to be hershey kisses but they ran out so let me just," leaning over to him, you kissed his cheek "there you go, now you can take the hershey one"

The other 8 boys howled in laughter at the wide eyed, red faced boy staring at the drink in front of him on the table. He bite his lips, trying to prevent a smile from breaking out onto his face.

You decided to get your phone out and wait a bit before you moved on further with the plan, the group going back to their conversations while the brit besides you kept taking glances at you, thinking you wouldn't notice, but you did and you also noticed that he is not touching his burger, only drinking the frosty.

Dipping your hand into your bag you got out the other burger "that's a non meat burger, bought it just in case."

"Oh," he took the food from your hands, nodding his head in thanks "you didn't have to."

Giving him a full smile you went back to your phone, waiting for him to eat a bit of his sandwhich so you could make the next move. The way he gets flustered and shy makes you want to ask him out on an actual date, he is so fucking pretty.

"Do you like it?"

Nodding, he smiled at you as he gave you a thumbs up as he can't answer while chewing.

"I'm really glad, I was thinking about adding it to our wedding menu," the dark haired man sitting on the other side of the british boy choked onto his drink, looking at their group of friends wanting to make sure that he heard correctly "not as a main dish, more like a snack really."

The boy besides you shrugged, thinking about how a burger truck would look in a wedding.

"Mate, you better not forget my invite if you're gonna have burgers at your wedding."

[viburnt]

Divorcing Izuku Midoriya Headcanons

I'm on a creative rush, and this may make zero sense because I'm tired lmao. Anyways, have some angst <3

Tagging the babes: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @trickster-kat @angelshimaa (babe, you've missed some very angsty posts) @xhieru @mimisxs @dabislittlemouse

Content Warning: Divorce, emotional abuse and manipulation, mention of baby-trapping, alcohol.

• As I said in my last post, divorcing Izuku is a nightmare. Think about the most energy-draining and mental health deteriorating process, and multiply it for a minimum of 6 months. Izuku won't make things easy for you at all, trying to drag and prolong the whole ordeal just to keep you close. I've divided this set of headcanons by key moments/topics to keep some order. I hope you enjoy them, I'm pouring my heart on these (also pay attention to detail because I'm working on something hehe).

Denial and confusion: the first days after you serve him papers

• Izuku genuinely doesn't understand why you want to leave, refusing to accept the fact that you're not happy being by his side. He's given you all there is to give: a comfortable house, nice clothes, expensive cars, etc. So when you serve him papers, Izuku's first reaction is confusion followed by fear. In that head of his, he's made everything a good husband has to do! So why? Why would you not be happy?

• If you were smart enough and planned your movements with care, you should be able to go through your divorce without depending financially on Izuku or having to live in the same place. You'd have to deal with his incessant calls and texts, often having to block unknown numbers to avoid hearing his whines, but it'd be less difficult. If you weren't thoughtful about the situation and proceeded without the right steps, oh, you're in for a treat: there's nowhere you can go besides the house you shared with him, no place where you can be at peace. You're at Izuku's mercy, like it or not, but that's another story.

• In addition to his denial, Izuku starts to (unconsciously) guilt trip you. Phrases like "Sorry for not being enough," and "I know I'm very pathetic" become frequent. It pains your heart to hear those things because you know Izuku loves you, you are just not compatible at all. You try to let him see it's not about being enough, it's more about effort; with much patience, you set things clear to avoid any misunderstandings, but Izuku just doesn't get it.

• "Haven't I done this or that for you? Didn't I buy you all these things? Am I not enough?" "Izuku, I didn't ask you for any of this, all I wanted was my husband..." Conversations like this occur during this phase, and they can only be held through the phone (when he is sober and not yelling/hollering how much of a mistake a divorce would be). He tries to gauge sympathy from you, telling you that his job is important but that he loves you so much!

• He becomes an empty shell of the bright ray of sunshine the public knew. It goes unnoticed by many, but the people who work around him can tell. It is then when he starts telling others about his marital situation, and you end up seeing faces you've met once or twice during galas or hero events. You "accidentally" stumble across your husband's colleagues, like Ochako, who try to convince you to give him a second chance. "I- I know we don't know each other a lot but please, consider it. Izuku is a great guy a-and I'm sure you guys could fix any problem!" It is embarrassing for you because no one wants people to know their issues.

• What's so ironic about the moment when you serve him papers is that he receives them at his office, the very root of all the problems in your marriage. It was the place where he had spent anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's... those four walls witnessed the beginning and the end of your relationship. Izuku has a mental breakdown when he finally reads the documents but, hey, he was still pro-hero Deku, right?

Negotiations and lawyers: The first weeks and months

• If having to deal with Izuku's colleagues trying to change your mind wasn't enough, be ready for your soon-to-be ex trying to negotiate. Midoriya suggests couple's therapy to talk this through, and for a split of second, it almost sounds like a good idea! But then you remember all those times when Izuku had promised you he'd be there for you and failed. It didn't seem plausible after that... Besides, all things considered, it'd be hard to find a therapist who could see your side of the story. Who would dare to tell someone as charming and popular as Izuku that he failed as a husband?

• Once therapy is off the table, Izuku brings up children. It may be considered a low blow, especially if one of your dreams was to form a family with him, so his offer felt cruel. "W-we can have kids! Wouldn't you want that? We can be a big family, with one- No, two babies!" "Ouch, it takes a divorce for you to even think about it, huh? That's uh, slightly concerning. Besides, a kid needs a father too... I'm not planning on being a single mom in this marriage" Now, Izuku strikes me as the kind that would try to . to stay. I'm sorry if it sounds terrible, but considering how sometimes he acts on impulse, he really could try it.

• Izuku also tries to be at home more often; he "cooks" (it's takeout disguised as home meals), brings you coffee to the bed, and calls you all kinds of sappy nicknames... It saddens you, why couldn't he care like that before? Of course, this point only applies if you still live with him during this whole process. If you don't, he starts frequenting the places where he guessed could find you: cafeterias, plazas, shops...

• Finding a lawyer for you was a hard task, especially because everyone sees you as a "dumb" woman who is trying to divorce Japan's number one hero. Not to mention they were very expensive, and Izuku was certainly not giving you money for that. You tell Izuku that mediations need to happen to progress with the divorce, but he never shows up to the meetings. There's always an excuse for that man! No matter how much you plea, he refuses to sign the paper. Izuku also becomes very mean towards you, outright berating you for not understanding him. It's gruesome to see him turn into such a monster during these months.

• As an additional point for this part, Izuku hires a private investigator to follow you around. He feels bad for thinking of it, but the idea that you could be seeing someone else while you're trying to divorce him eats him alive.

Last resort: Mediatic battle

• The media is very quick to pick up your marriage's fall down. Time after time you visited your lawyer's office for them to put two and two together, and Izuku takes that to his advantage. Sensationalist articles had already been happening, a lot of them being cruel and demeaning towards you. Titles like "Is she a cheater?" "No amount of success gives you the girl!" And "Pro-hero Deku will be looking for a new wife soon" started popping up. You have to take down any social platform to avoid being targeted.

• It is when Izuku gives a public declaration that things get worse. "I'm sorry, my wife is just not happy with me anymore. Please respect her wish! Don't harass her, I failed as a husband." It may seem like a hearty and sorrowful declaration from the outside, but Izuku picked word by word to gain sympathy and pressure you into changing your mind. People in the street call you "heartless", and the stress simply keeps growing for you.

• To put it in simple words, you were David against Goliath, except Goliath was a glorified person who had all the resources and support of the people. You were nothing but a tiny mouse squeaking to be set free of a relationship that was suffocating you.

The aftermath: Supposing you haven't given up and he signed the divorce papers

• If you somehow manage to divorce him after all these problems, congratulations. You survived 5% of the drama that awaits you! Now you won't be able to date someone without people snapping photos for entertainment news or judging you for leaving "such a great man". Izuku will still try to convince you to go back to him, playing his "sad lover" role in front of the cameras so well! He'll try to send expensive gifts and tell you to keep the house, he'll call you drunk in the middle of the night, and if you're not careful enough, he may try to gaslight you into thinking nothing wrong was happening in your marriage.

• One particular thing I must mention is that Izuku only signed the papers after you yelled at him at one of the legal mediations, hot embarrassment tears falling from your tired eyes as you begged him to let you go.

• Anyways, the list could go on, but those are the main points of divorcing Izuku :')

"Please, just sign the papers..." You said through the phone, your voice tired of pleading to someone who simply refused to hear you. "I will, I will! I'm just a little under the snow with work. Can you reschedule?" Izuku said, apologizing for not being there for you. Excusing himself for failing you, but refusing to let go. "You know how many articles I've seen with my face saying how much of bitch I am for visiting my lawyer's office?"

Izuku's silence was deafening, you could only hear him sigh slightly, perhaps feeling bad for putting you in such a position. "I don't want this divorce."

"But I do, so don't make things more difficult for me, please." He heard you say, biting his lip to hold back the tears. Izuku was glad you couldn't see him, sitting alone in his office with a half-empty bottle of wine you'd gifted him for his birthday. "Do you remember what day is today?" He asked.

"I don't know, Monday? I haven't slept lately." You answered unamused. "It's our anniversary... we married 5 years ago, on this very day." His words came out as a slow slur, his breath hitching as he crumbled through the phone. "I miss you a lot, please-"

"I'll see you on Wednesday, if you're not there I swear to God..."

...

"Mr. Midoriya?" Your lawyer called, her voice bringing your anxious husband back to reality. "Ah, sorry, it's me. Is... is she in there?" He asked, pointing at her office. She just looked at him with little sympathy and nodded. "On time, as always. Maybe you should avoid keeping her waiting, that's the least you could considering how many times we've had these conversations."

"There's no way I can fix this, is there?" Izuku asked as if the lawyer cared. "Wanna do something nice for her? Divorce her."