#some of which just like the movie took a few tries to actually get anywhere

[hawksheadcanonblog]

Headcanon - There were a few timelines where Henry leaned into the Groundhogs Day-ness that is the timelines and refused to do anything until he hit the reset point. He dedicated some of those to learning new skills, including one loop where he took from the movie and learned piano. There’s also several loops where he just dedicated himself to learning as much as possible about those around him, Toppat or military or neither alike.

[rivendell-poet]

Hello! It’s the same anon who asked you about the Hobbit movies :) I was wondering if you could write (no pressure! I just mostly wanted to share an idea) funny headcanons or a scenario of a female reader (could be a non-Mirkwood elf or someone from a long-lived race) who was part of Thorin’s company and meets Legolas again 60 years later when she’s with Frodo in Rivendell? Reader remembers how Legolas wasn’t too courteous to the Company and locked them up in the dungeons which made her dislike him quite a bit. And let’s just say that she wasn’t all too… thrilled upon meeting him again in LOTR and him joining the Fellowship with her ahaha. Bonus points if she remembers Legolas calling Gimli a ‘goblin mutant’ when he looked at Gloin’s locket in the Mirkwood forest xD.

Again, please take your time with this :) I understand that you have quite a few things to write, and I only want you to write whatever you feel happy writing <3

Hi anon! Sorry it took so long for your request, but hopefully this was what you meant with scenarios. If you'd prefer a oneshot please feel free to put a new request in <3 Thanks so much for the idea by the way, it was super fun to work with. And it genuinely means so much to read the last note on your request, so seriously thank you

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 0.5k | TWs : None

✧ To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t wanted to join the Company in the first place - it was more of a collection of favours than a real desire to reclaim Erebor.

✧ Which made it so much worse when you and the Company got captured in Mirkwood.

✧ (It probably didn’t help that you’d let out a small laughed at the blond elf’s joke about Glóin’s son. In your defence it was funny.)

✧ As an elf, the guards had been cordial to you - and you’d managed to find out quite a few things about the kingdom. Such as the blond elf being Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.

✧ He tried to visit you, once, holding the idea of having a better bed and better food over you if you gave up the information.

✧  And you may not have wanted to be in the Company, but you’d be damned if you weren’t loyal to them.

✧ So you’d simply refused to speak to him.

✧ Although all that knowing his name, and your time in Mirkwood, really did was help put a name and reasons for your grudge.

✧ A grudge that hadn’t gone anywhere, until now.

✧ Because sitting across you from you at the Council of Elrond was the same elf as the one who you’d only properly seen through bars. Not that there was recognition in his face.

✧ The matters only got worse when you realised the name of the dwarf who was joining you - Gimli.

✧ For the first leg of the Fellowship you don’t bring it up, because the quest to save Middle Earth is (sadly) more important than a simple grudge.

✧ It doesn’t mean that you can’t still be slightly petty to him however.

✧ You never do anything that could endanger him, just subtle things - like waking him up a few minutes before his watch should start, or loosening his dagger from his scabbard only enough to make him confused.

✧ Gimli eventually figures out it was you, but promise not to tell. He’s the only one aside from Gandalf who actually knows of your involvement in the Fellowship, but not of the precise comments.

✧ That’s a little bit of information you want to share on a good occasion.

✧ You decide to finally share the story a little after leaving Lothlórien, because you can tell the Fellowship needs some cheering up.

✧ And when you say it you feel completely justified in waiting this long.

✧ Because you get to watch the elf almost turn pale - as pale as an elf could go - as the realisation hit him.

✧ (The rest of the Fellowship does briefly have to deal with Legolas looking horrified while you laugh and try not to keel over.)

✧ Merry and Pippin join in the laughter as soon as you explain the joke.

✧ And it does the job in cheering the Fellowship up.

✧ Legolas takes it surprisingly well, although afterwards approaches you to apologise in private - genuinely expressing remorse for his actions.

✧ It’s unexpected but welcomed, and you thank him for it.

✧ From then on it becomes an inside joke between you all (especially you and Legolas).

✧ And, when facing what you are, even a simple joke can be one of the brightest lights for the two of you. A light both of you are grateful for.

A/N : Sorry to any readers who wished for comedy, I'm afraid I'm not great when it comes to writing this. But hopefully you enjoyed it! And, honestly, I'm very open to writing more in this universe/with this premise if people want some <3

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @ferns-fics / @chewgazellechew / @recordofragnarokfan2 / @stormchaser819 / @raikan624 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[writingshushf1]

Hey you! How are you doing? I was wondering if your requests are open? I'd like to request something angsty with mick, they are bffs and in love with eachother but its kinda like a right person wrong time? like, always something happens and they cant be together.

the 1

Summary:  I have this dream you're doing cool shit. Having adventures on your own

Rating: +14

Warnings: them fighting (and ending up hurting each other with words), angst

Word count: 1.7k

Note: gathered those two request that could work together. just sadness, not my best fanfiction really - just having a small block with writing long stories

masterlist

You were so stubborn. Both of you.

Not all love stories come to a happy ever after and (un)luckly, yours didn’t. As much as you two tried, something always came in the middle of it. So much, that you two stopped trying.

Here’s the thing: it wasn’t a new thing, a sentiment you discovered throughout you were getting closer. It happened just like an earthquake, big, destroyed everything it could and more than once.

The moment they announced that Mick was the Formula 2 champion of 2020 you cried out, happy for him. You wanted to wrap him in your arms, say the sweetest things and that you were so proud of him - yet you were hundreds of miles away. That still wouldn't stop you, that night you called him, you stayed for hours talking and pretending that no one else existed in the world but the two of you.

But how could you be the perfect suitor for each other, you managed to be the opposite. You were both stubborn and liked to have the last word, so often when something seemed to develop, you ended up fighting.

“Mick, for fuck’s sake! I’ve already told you: I can’t go to Bahrain, it will be in the middle of my exams!” You crossed your arms, sitting on the balcony. “I can’t just abandon everything and go after you.���

“But you’re my best friend! You’re the only person outside my family I can trust my life with.” He put his hands on his waist, stopping pacing from side to side.

“I love you, bud, I really do. But I can’t do this. I want to graduate being the best, so in the future, I can follow you anywhere, being your engineer.”

“Fine! Then I’ll find someone to follow me through the season.” 

Even if he understood what you were saying, he couldn't leave you the last word. He wanted more from you, yet he couldn't say how.

“Fine! Find a little fuck doll that only cares about your money and your dick.”

“At least she cares.”

“Like I don’t? Are you really insinuating that, Schumacher?”

“No, but if the shoe fits…” 

“Don’t you dare.” You got up, walking close to him. “Honestly, sometimes I really wonder if you actually value my friendship or you just want some hot girl to stroll around you so you feel more confident.”

“I do.”

“Then why do you talk to me like that?”

It was a few weeks of silence after that. Mick was too proud, yet that conversation stuck in his mind. The feelings the German held were confusing, at the same time he doesn't regret putting it on the line that he feels left out because you never had any real time for him, his heart broke at the thought of him hurting you. He was completely in love with you, a deep and long standing love. Something that you felt too, yet you never had a right time for it to reveal itself.

It was early in the morning and you were watching a movie alone, until you heard the doorbell, at first you took a knife and went to the door. You opened a small crack, however you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw your best friend, almost unconscious, being carried by a girl.

"He only knew this address. He had too many drinks."

"And you are...?"

"We go out sometimes. He's good in bed. You?"

"Best friend."

"Oh. Good luck."

You dropped the knife and took him in your arms, stroking the blond strands, which were messy. You giggled as he started mumbling some things in Italian mixed with German, leaving a kiss on his forehead. 

With great difficulty, she managed to get him to sit on the sofa and drink some water. The light blue eyes followed you as you tried to find some of his clothes put away and a towel, he urgently needed a shower.

"Sorry." He slurred, ducking his head.

"For?"

"For being a jerk." Mick hugged his own body. "I get upset that you never have time for me, hence why I want to fight with you. And you like to argue too.... And I say things I don't mean."

"We have very different lives, Micki."

He didn't say anything else, just let himself be led into the bathroom, where you helped him into just his underwear - which he removed without any shame. You turned on the shower and turned on your back, expecting him to go alone, however you felt a hand on the small of your back. A few seconds later you were only in your panties and bra, stepping into the shower with him.

"But I love you. That's why I want you around." He said as he let you wash his hair.

"And I love you too."

"No, but... I love you. Beyond platonic."

"Those are drunken words, Schumi."

"No. They are not."

He pulled you into a slow kiss, letting his tongue pass against yours, holding your waist and pulling your body against his. For a few seconds you had no reaction, it felt like a dream, yet at the same time you knew it was going to be a very big fall. Fortunately for Mick, you returned the kiss, letting yourself go with the moment. The taste of beer mixed with liquor from his lips seemed to get you drunk every moment.

That night, you slept curled up in each other's arms under the duvet.

In the morning, he was more affectionate, more needy, as if he knew he had to leave soon - which wasn't a lie, he had to travel to another country in less than 72 hours.

"Next race you're going, whether you like it or not." He murmured, leaving a long kiss on your cheek and walking away.

And again, it happened during that race weekend, with no attached strings. You two were playing with fire and not being scared about it. 

Some of Schumacher’s past acquaintances were on the Paddock, which made you cringe all the way to it. How did they get there? He invited them? No, he didn’t, however they were rich girls, models, famous, of course it wasn't hard to get a pass to see the wonderful boy they stayed for a week or two. Without a doubt, you were insecure, especially that he was a sunshine, so he talked with everyone who approached him - with good or bad intentions. So you ended up alone, inside of his trailer while he did his media obligations. You were so insecure, afraid of your friendship being ruined with all of this shit. 

After an hour, the blonde got inside the trailer, surprised, yet happy, to find you there. But his smile vanished when he saw that you had tear stained cheeks.

“Schatz? What happened? We’re friends, you can tell me.”

“Friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.”

“What? Elaborate that for me.” He sat down next to you, holding your hand.

“Mick… I love you, you love me. That’s true, right?”

“Of course! Unless…”

“That’s the thing. Love isn’t the only thing that can hold something. You confessed to me while drunk, after weeks we had a big fight. We can’t communicate properly.”

“But we’ve been friends forever. We always vented out our feelings.”

“Not the ones we feel about each other.”

“For God’s sake. Don’t tell me you don’t want to keep going on because of some hidden feelings.”

“Calm down and listen to me.”

“Calm down? Why should I? I want to fight for this!” He got up, throwing his hands up. “Why don’t you let me?”

“Because it's not the moment, Mick!” You also got up, letting tears fall. “You’re concentrating on your career, that’s going great! While I’m trying to finish university… We can’t be together more than 2 days every month or so.”

“But it’s not that hard, I can fly every time I want to.”

“Also… I don’t think we’re ready to engage in this.” You held his shoulders. “I have loved you since we were 18, I’ve dreamt about you, but… We won’t work it out. I would give it one year till one of us does something unforgivable. And I refuse to lose you over something idiotic.”

“Me either!”

“So do you understand what I’m trying to do? We still be friends, I’m not willing to lose that, but we push this feeling until we’re at the same page in life? How about that.”

“I want it now. I want the instant happiness of having you next to me.” He turned his head away, trying to fight the tears that wanted to fall against his light skin. His defensive side was threatening to come out.

“I’m sorry… I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“Schatz… I’m not your ex.” He shooted back, looking now at you.

“That’s why. Tell me you’re not trying to fix something when you used to go out with multiple women?” You shooted at him, starting to get angry with his words.

“Fine.” He cried out, huffing. “But I’ll come back to get you. Because I refuse to have someone in my life that’s not you and honestly? I’m willing to fight for it.”

“I’m willing too.” Finally thinking he accepted the defeat, you let out a sigh.

“Which is why-” Oh, there he goes again. At the same time, a sob escaped your lips. “I want you now! Why can’t I have nice things happening all the time? There’s always something bad.”

“Mick. Stop. I’m done talking about this.” You shook your head, wiping your tears away. “I’m going. Get some rest, clear your thoughts and I will call you when I think you are better.”

“No! Don’t go like that!” He held your hand before you could step out of the trailer. “What if something happens? What if something happens and this is the last time we’re together? I know I hate you right now, but it’s only now, I can’t feel like that for too long.” His free hand caressed your cheek. “Please. A kiss.”

“Fine.”

His lips crashed against yours, a melancholy kiss of farewell, as if he was trying to bring up some point that might make you give up on not continuing that situation. When you pulled away from him, you held his hand against your face, leaving small kisses on it before squeezing and releasing it. You opened the trailer door, murmuring "see you later," at which he responded with "Ich liebe dich, Schatz.”

Right person at the wrong time always sucked.

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 12

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.4k

Chapter 11 | Masterlist

For the first week I was lost. The only reason I really got up was to feed Calypso which is what I named my new fish or to eat. I was still upset with Jake, or myself.I didn’t quite know. Part of me wants to ask him, but I couldn’t get a hold of him even if I wanted to. The other part of me is screaming that it’s not my fault he’s mad at me. He couldn’t be mad that I went to Phoenix’s. I left because of him and Kelly and I didn’t force him to lay on the couch and wait for me. But every day while I lay here I can’t help but think I did something wrong, and that’s the reason he didn’t wake me up. That I did something that pissed him off to the point he didn’t want to see me before he left for six weeks. My emotions were everywhere. One minute I was angry, the next I would cry, and sometimes I just didn’t care. If he didn’t want to see me, I don’t want to see him. There was one point for all of an hour I considered moving out but that was shot down quickly when I realized that I had no money, all of my friends were gone besides Kelly, and I probably couldn’t make it on my own if I tried. I finally dragged myself out of the bed roughly a week after they were deployed and went downstairs for lunch, seeing as I slept through breakfast. That’s another thing I realized, my sleep schedule is all out of whack. I usually get up when Jake gets back from his morning run, but without him here, I’ve been sleeping till all hours of the day. Once downstairs I opened the fridge and peered inside. I glanced through it and the freezer, finding we really only had vegetables and things for sides. No real food. 

I huffed and realized I had to go to the grocery store. So I stormed upstairs, pissed that my plans changed so suddenly. I didn’t want to go anywhere today. I wanted to stay here and finish up my last book and maybe find a movie to watch, but now I had to go to the damn store. I took what I thought was a quick shower, it was actually forty-five minutes. I was losing all sense of time. A simple shower and getting ready should only take me an hour or so, especially now that my hair is shorter. But it took me two hours to get ready. I simply blow dried my hair, put on some mascara in hopes I’d feel normal, and slipped on a light blue t-shirt dress. It was so hot outside today, I couldn’t even imagine wearing pants. I grabbed my glasses and slid them on before making my way downstairs. Jake told me a few days before he left that he was leaving me his credit card. I know he told me he was leaving it in one of the cabinets, tucked away but I couldn’t find it. I shoved my hand in every cabinet and even grabbed the step stool to look up on the top shelves. I was pretty sure Jake wouldn’t put it up that high but I had to check. 

I still hadn’t found it and I was so frustrated I could’ve screamed. I looked under the stack of mail, moved things around on the counter, wondering if it fell and after half an hour I still hadn’t found it. Rage bubbled within me. Where the hell did he fucking put it? It’s not like I could call him and ask where it was. I let out a yell of frustration and became even more angry when I saw the card and a note on the other side of the kitchen, tucked between the coffee pot and the wall. “I don’t know why the fuck he thought that was a good idea.” I sneered, slamming my hand down on the card and tucking it in my wallet before looking at the note. ‘Get whatever you want or need, darlin’. Plenty of money on it.’ I scoffed, crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash can. Darlin’ my ass. Even the nice words and the name pissed me off. I grabbed his truck keys and my purse before making my way out to his truck. I got in and shut the door, turning the ignition. The vents blasted hot air at first but then cooled down pretty quick. “Fucking mountain.” I remarked as I slowly moved the seat closer to the steering wheel. Once I was all situated I backed out of the driveway and drove out of the little neighborhood and towards the store. I was still mad, so much so I turned the radio off completely. I usually blast music but I just needed a silent drive. I was heading for the closest little market which was about fifteen minutes away. I didn’t want to be out longer than necessary. 

I leaned my elbow on the door and propped my head up as I pulled up to a red light. I sat there, waiting forever for the light to change and looked out my window. The car next to me looked slightly familiar, the silver color reflecting the sun off of it and into my eyes. But as I leaned over I caught sight of the familiar face of my mother. Thankfully, Jake’s truck sat higher than her car so as she looked out the passenger window she only saw the black exterior of the truck. I slammed back in my seat, hoping she didn’t just see me. My heart thudded in my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut as I attempted to calm myself. The honking of a horn made my eyes fly open and I slammed my foot on the gas, speeding off. Seeing my mother made me realize that I was about to go to the same grocery store as her and I quickly changed where I was heading. I drove an additional twenty minutes to the target on the north end of San Diego and felt a little better. I knew my parents never traveled farther than they had to, but I still felt uneasy. I walked into the store, opting for coffee from starbucks before I started my shopping. Although, coupled with the anxiety I just experienced it was probably a bad idea. But I didn’t care. I took my large coffee cup and grabbed a buggy before turning for the back of the store where the food sat. 

I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder occasionally, fearing one of my parents would be right behind me. I grabbed things such as ground beef, chicken, pasta, a few microwave or one pot meals. I took my time, scouring the aisles for anything I may need or want. As one person, cooking big meals was almost a waste so finding ways to cook single servings was the best way to go. With Jake I could make a full meal and he’d eat over half by himself. I left the grocery section, heading straight over to the book section and looked around every aisle. I found a few books that piqued my interest, one of them was called Twisted Love and the other, A Court Of Thorns and Roses. I was into older romance stories, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, The Princess Bride but I felt like I should try something else. So I went for a more modern romance and a fantasy. I thought back to Jake’s note, ‘Get whatever you want or need.’ Smirking, I grabbed a few others that seemed interesting and went to check out. Once I paid I loaded everything into the car and decided to stop at Five Guys for a burger, fries and a milkshake and rushed home. The closer I got to the house, the more nervous I got. Seeing my mom made me realize I didn’t go far. Bumping into them is very much a real threat and now I understand why Jake was cautious about where he took me. 

Once I was home I rushed to get everything inside and locked the door behind me. I sighed in relief, knowing I was home and there was no way I could bump into my mother. Once everything was put away I sat on the couch with my food, deciding to eat while I watched a movie. One Natasha suggested was the Princess Bride. I had read the book dozens of times but I had never seen the movie. So I sat, ate and attempted to forget my mothers face. I thought I was totally safe here, but it’s not like I ran off to another country, I basically ran down the road. But as I sit here, a full stomach and my sweet tooth curbed, I can’t help but worry that my parents really know where I am. I tried to not worry, but it seems to be something I’m good at. Halfway through the movie I decided to lay down on the couch, maybe a nap would do me good. As the movie was coming to a close I could feel the exhaustion creeping in on me.

A loud bang woke me up and I jumped up in fear. The banging was coming from the front door, I could see it shaking from the force. I stared at it as I slowly stood from the couch, making my way over the window. I moved the curtains and the blinds only to see blackness. It was the type of black you see in underground tunnels and caves, you can’t see your hand in front of your face, the type that seeps into your bones and scares you to the core. I couldn’t even see the white railings that lined the front porch. The banging continued and I walked over,standing on my toes to look out the peephole. As I did so the banging stopped but I looked out the peephole to once again, find blackness. I sighed and lowered myself off my toes just as the wood on the door splintered and a large hand came through, grabbing the front of my dress and slamming me face first into the door before letting me go. I fell to the floor scrambling away from the door as the hand reached for the locks and turned them. The door slowly swung open to reveal my father. Everything was silent, save for my heaving breaths as I tried to breathe and fight the tears back. He simply stood there and I took the opportunity to get up and run. I went for the back door but it was gone. Why was it gone?! The garage door through the kitchen was gone as well and I panicked, rushing for the stairs. I would go into my room and lock the door before scaling down the lattice by my window. But as I started up the stairs my father was suddenly before me. His hand shot out before smacking me clear across the face and sending me head first into the banister before tumbling backwards down the stairs. 

Pain blossomed across my face as I sat up with a yell. I pulled my hand away to see blood on it and the carpet. “Oh, it was just a dream.” I sighed out. I heard my phone buzz and saw it was a facetime from Bradley. Excitement swelled within me and I immediately answered. “Hang on.” I called, standing and rushing to the bathroom with my phone. “Well hello to you too.” He remarked. “Everything okay?” He asked. “Yeah, I just had a nightmare and I’ve seemed to roll off the couch and I hit my nose on the coffee table.” I answered as I wiped the blood from my face. “Let me see?” He asked and I sighed, propping up the phone so he could see me. “Damn.” That’ll probably bruise.” He said. “I know.” It went quiet for a moment before he spoke up. “What was the nightmare about?” He asked. “My dad broke in. All the doors disappeared so I was forced up the stairs…” I trailed off. “Then he smacked me and sent me backwards down the stairs. I must’ve been moving around a lot on the couch and fell off, smacking my face on the coffee table.” I said. 

“How often do you have nightmares?” He asked. “I haven’t had them in a few weeks. But…” He raised a brow at me. “But what?” He asked. I chewed on my bottom lip. “I went to the store today and when I stopped at a red light… I saw my mom.” He was silent, his lips pursed in a line and I couldn’t quite tell his emotions. “Are you sure it was her?” He asked and I nodded. “One hundred percent positive.” “And did she see you?” He asked and I shook my head. “I don’t think so. At least, she didn’t look right at me.” I said. “Good.” He said and I walked out of the bathroom and into my room where I flopped down onto my bed. “Woah, your bed’s not made?” He asked and I shook my head. “Nope.” I was usually uptight about my bed. It had to be made or else I wouldn't sleep good. Sleeping in an already messy bed stressed me out for some reason. “Katie? How long have you been in bed?” He asked and a blush crept up my cheeks. “Don’t lie to me.” He added. “Today was the first day I really got up.” I answered. “God. Hangman is gonna lose his mind.” He said and I sat up. “You aren’t gonna say shit to him.” I said and he raised a brow. “He doesn’t get to know every little thing that’s going on with me, especially since he left without waking me, saying goodbye, nothing.” I spat. 

“I’m sensing some anger.” He said. “If you were getting deployed, and you asked someone if you should wake them up the next morning to go to the docks with you or at least say goodbye, would you do it?” He raised a brow as if that was a dumb question. “Of course I would.” He answered before he gasped. “Jake didn’t say goodbye.” I shook my head. “No, he didn’t and I can’t help but think it’s because he’s mad at me. But I didn’t force him to sleep on the couch and wait for me to come home.” I had started pacing at this point, my phone propped up on my pillow so he could see me. “Wait, what am I missing?” He asked and I realized he probably has no idea what I’m talking about. I flopped onto the bed, lying on my stomach as I looked at my phone. “The night before you guys left, I heard Jake and Kelly… having sex.” His eyebrows shot up. “That’s weird, Hangman says Kelly is always worried someone would hear and he can hardly get her to say a word in bed.” I brushed it off. “Yeah, well she didn’t seem to care that night. But I went to Natasha's for a while. I felt like I was intruding but I came back home really late and he was asleep on the couch.” Bradley hummed and nodded. “He didn��t seem mad when he got up. He asked if I wanted him to wake me up before he left and I said yes, but then I woke up and y’all were long gone.” I said, letting my head fall to my mattress. 

“Katie, I don’t think he did it out of spite.” He said and I huffed. “Then why else would he leave without saying goodbye? It makes no sense!” He shrugged. “I-I don’t know. It’s so unlike him.” He said and I heard a door open on his end. I sniffled, wiping my tears before they fell. “Aw, Katie. Don’t cry, please.” He said and I sat up, sitting cross legged in front of my phone. “Katie?” I groaned as I heard Jake’s voice on the other end. “What’s wrong? C’mon darlin’, talk to me!” He said and I scoffed, scowling and I flipped my phone face down on the comforter. “Katie?” Jake called. “What the fuck did you do to her?” I assume his question was towards Bradley. “What did I do? I think you might want to be asking yourself that, bagman.” Bradley snapped back. “Me?!” He asked, shocked. “Katie, darlin’. Talk to me please.” I knew it was childish, the way I was acting, but I knew if I even looked at him I would give in. “Katie, c’mon. You’re scaring me, I’m worried.” 

I grabbed the phone, flipping it over and glaring at him through the screen. He seemed to notice the anger in my eyes and leaned back in surprise. “Oh, you’re worried? Bless your heart.” I said before setting my phone back down. “Wha-You-” He stumbled over his words until he found the right ones. “You don’t get to insult me like that!” He called out and I rolled my eyes. “This is my call with her you know, not yours.” I grabbed my phone again. “Yeah, this is mine and Bradley’s call. So why don’t you find something else to do, without saying goodbye.” I snapped and Bradley snickered at Jake’s confusion. “What?” Bradley laughed at him. “Just leave us alone, Jake. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I said and Bradley snatched the phone. “Yeah, she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” He said, walking out of his and Jake’s room. “You know he’s going to pout all day.” He said and I rolled my eyes. “Let him. Like I care.” I spat and he just grinned at me. “You know you care.” He said and while I wouldn’t admit it, I do hate making Jake feel bad but I’m so angry with him. “Can we change the subject?” I asked and he nodded with a smile. “Wanna see something?” He asked and I nodded. He turned the phone around and I saw a beautiful view of the ocean and what seemed to be a sun rise. “Oh my god.” I gasped out. “Bradley, it’s beautiful.” I said and he turned the phone back around, a giant grin on his face. “Isn’t it?” He asked and I nodded. 

“Hey, Bradley?” I asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. "Why did you use your call on me?" I asked and he just smiled. "Truth?" I nodded. "I've never had anyone to call on deployments." My heart broke for him. I could never imagine being so far away for so long and never having anyone to call and talk to. "I knew Hangman would use his calls to talk to Kelly, so I wanted to call you. Keep you updated, and just talk to you." He said with a grin. "With an answer like that, Jake may believe you really do have romantic feelings for me." I joked and he laughed. "If it gets him to admit his own feelings then good!" I gave him a small smile. "He doesn't have feelings for me, Rooster. Besides, if he did he wouldn’t have left without at least leaving a note.” I said. “You just don’t see it.” I scoffed. “See what? The way he looks at his girlfriend?” I asked, chuckling at the end. “I’m telling you, Katie. There’s something there.” I rolled my eyes at him and we continued our conversation, without the mention of Jake. Once we were done I went upstairs and got ready for bed. My nose still hurts from my fall and I’m sure I would have a nasty bruise just like Bradley said. But thankfully, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that it is not broken. As I laid in bed that night I couldn’t help but realize some of my anger had faded away. Jake telling me he was worried, made me a little pleased. It was so easy for me to give in to him and all because of my own stupid feelings. But I couldn’t just let this go so easily, couldn’t be weak. My thoughts cast me off into sleep, one that thankfully was nightmare free. 

I spent the next few days reading and trying to think of what else to do with my time. I had my next therapy session in two weeks and I quickly remembered I told Dr. Davis I would apply to some nursing programs. So I spent a few days applying to a few programs, ones that I would have a decent chance of getting in. The thought of going back to school scared me, but I knew that I would regret not even trying. I was cleaning a few days later, about a week after Bradley called me when the doorbell rang. I froze in the middle of my mopping and looked out of the kitchen and towards the front door. I slowly stalked forwards, standing on my toes and looking out the peephole. I was relieved to see Kelly’s face, looking straight at the door so I swung it open with a large smile. “Hi!” I greeted cheerfully. She gave me a small smile and stepped inside. She hung up her purse like usual and walked into the kitchen. “Oh! Be careful! I was in the middle of mopping!” I called, following after her. She didn’t seem to notice nor care as she traipsed across the clean floors and opened the fridge. “No beer?” She asked and I shook my head. “I don’t drink it.” I said. “Well Jake does.” I nodded, a little caught off guard by her stern tone. “Well he finished the last of them before he left and I plan to get some closer to the time of him coming home.” I responded as she pulled out a water bottle.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked and she hummed. “Is Jake mad at me?” I asked. She pursed her lips, sighing. “I wouldn’t say mad. More annoyed.” My face and hopes fell. “Oh…” I said. “It’s just… you’re always around.” She said. “We keep trying for alone time and you’re just there. Like the night before he shipped out. We had to change up everything so as not to disturb you and you still left.” I bit my lip, looking down at my bare feet. “I’m sorry. If you had asked me to leave I would’ve.” I replied. “But we shouldn’t have to.” She snapped and my head hung even more if possible. “You just follow Jake around like a lost puppy and it’s even getting on my nerves.” She said and I furrowed my brows. “Does it bother Jake?” I asked. “Of course it bothers him!” She said loudly. “It bothers the both of us.” I opened my mouth to reply but didn’t know what to say. “Maybe it’s time you find somewhere else to live.” She said and I could practically feel myself go pale. “I think I'd rather talk to Jake about this.” I said, standing tall. “It is his house and he did invite me to stay… So I’ll talk to him about it.” She scoffed. “He’s going to tell you the same thing I just did. Better to leave before he gets home and avoid the awkwardness.” She grinned at me and all the anger that I’ve had pent up came to the surface. My fists clenched at my sides, my nails making crescent shapes in my palms. 

“Is that all you have to say?” I asked, the anger evident in my voice. She just grinned at me. “Did I strike a nerve?” She asked mockingly. “Yeah. You fucking did.” She seemed surprised by my honesty. “I don’t know what kind of satisfaction you’re getting from coming here and telling me these things, but you're done.” I snapped. “It’s not your house.” She said, taking a step closer. “It’s not yours either.” Her face fell. She thought she was clever. “Now please leave.” Her eyes glanced at my fists and she noticed the shaking. “I will leave you with this reminder. Jake is my boyfriend and you will never take him from me.” I scoffed in her face. “And I’ll leave you with a reminder. The world does not revolve around you and I don’t want your fucking boyfriend. You can keep him and I hope that you have the life you deserve with him.” I sneered. “Now leave.” She stood before me, her face mere inches from my own. Her breath fanned against my face and I could smell alcohol. “And brush your fucking teeth when you get home. That’s disgusting.” Her hand immediately flew to her mouth before she stormed towards the door. She grabbed her purse from the hook but it got caught and instead of lifting it, she yanked it and the force pulled the board with the hooks off the wall. “Fuck you!” I yelled as she slammed the door behind her. “Now I have to clean this shit up.” 

A few hours later I had cleaned everything up and finished the rest of the house before pouring myself a glass of wine. Before I could even take my first sip my phone started ringing and as I lifted it, Jake’s name flashed across the screen. I slammed it down on the table and stared at it. I took a sip and was going to let it continue to ring, but decided to answer at the last second. “Hey, darlin’.” He said with a big smile and I propped my phone up. “We need to talk.” My voice was stern and it shocked him. “What happened to your nose? What’s going on?” He asked. “My nose doesn’t matter. If you wanted me gone Jake, you should’ve fucking told me. What did you just want a house sitter while you were gone? Just decided to wait till you came home to tell me to find somewhere else to live?” I snapped. “What are you talking about?” He asked, brows furrowing. “Don’t play dumb. Kelly told me how I was getting on your nerves and that I need to find somewhere else to live.” His eyebrows shot up and he leaned back slightly. “Woah! Hold on!” I shook my head. “No! You should’ve told me! If you want me gone, if you’re mad that I’m interrupting your alone time with your girlfriend, you should’ve told me!” I yelled out as I stood. “I can be reasonable if you’re honest with me! But dammit, Jake! I have spent so much of my life around lies, I can’t just let that go!” “Katie. Darlin’-” “Don’t fucking call me that.” I interrupted and he nodded. “Katie. I never lied to you and I never would. I don’t know what Kelly was saying, but I sent her over there to check on you.” 

“She sure checked in! Busted up in here and told me all about how I was wrecking your relationship and that I needed to find somewhere else to live, and how you’re her boyfriend and I will never steal you from her. Newsflash, I don’t fucking want you.” I snapped. Saying that to Kelly didn’t phase me, but saying it to Jake, that hurt. “Wait what?” He asked loudly. “Yeah. So you get your wish. I won’t be here when you get home.” I said. “No! Katie? Katie please!” He yelled as I stood up. “What?” If steam could be rolling out of my ears, I'm sure it would. I was shaking. I was so mad. But also upset. I should've known better than to hold out hope that this would work out. Nobody can handle you. You run every one off. “Darlin’, please. Don’t leave.” His eyes were misty as tears filled them and a part of me felt bad. “Please. Don’t leave.” Was he… begging? “Why shouldn’t I?” I asked. “Because whatever Kelly said, it’s a lie. I didn’t lie, she is.” I furrowed my brows. “You’re calling your own girlfriend a liar?” I asked, surprised. “Yes. Because she’s lying. I don’t want you to leave. Katie, if anything I never want you to leave. I’ve grown so used to having you in the house and I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Wh-why don’t you stay there and we’ll talk when I get home.” I sat back, huffing. “Jake-” “Katie. Please.” He said sternly. “Please, just stay.” My jaw tensed. “I will be here when you get home. But we are having a talk that day, no putting it off.” He nodded. “Good. Great!” He said. “But if I want to leave, you won’t stop me.” I said and his face fell. “If I stay we have to have a serious talk about what we’re gonna do moving forward because I am so fucking tired of assuming you’re angry with me everytime I turn around.” I said, tears of my own forming. “Katie, I’ve never been remotely angry with you.” He said and I sighed. “Let’s talk when you come home. I’m exhausted.” I said and he nodded. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll see you in four weeks.” He said. “Bye, Jake.” He barely said goodbye before I hung up and chugged the entire glass of wine. This was going to be a long four weeks. I thought before getting up and grabbing the bottle. “Might as well keep this nearby.” I muttered as I strolled over to the couch, flopping down on it. 

The following week was my therapy appointment and as soon as I sat down in Dr. Davis’ office, my leg was shaking. “I’m sorry I was late. I can’t seem to get myself together lately.” I said and she shook her head. “No! It’s okay, it was one minute!” She said but I couldn’t help but feel like she was actually upset with me. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m not upset or frustrated with you if that’s what you're asking.” She said. “Do you often feel like people are upset with you?” She asked and I nodded. “Let’s talk about that.” I explained everything, from my parents constantly being upset with me, to feeling like Jake is angry with me. We had started EMDR which was a little weird at first. My eyes were closed and I was tapping my knees in a steady rhythm, “I didn’t tell him why I thought he was mad.” She hummed and immediately I felt nauseous. “Are you okay?” She asked as I opened my eyes. “No, I feel nauseous.” She nodded, jotting some stuff down. “You seem to feel everything physically. The dizziness, the nausea.” She said and I took a few deep breaths, the nausea slowly subsiding.

“How do you feel about the situation with Jake now?” She asked. “It’s an eight.” She nodded. “Good! We started at a ten and we’ve already gotten it down to an eight! Just remember you may not feel like this is resolved until you talk to him.” I nodded. “Now, let’s talk about nursing school.” She said and I practically jumped in my seat. “Yes! I applied to three programs!” She smiled. “Good, which ones?” She asked and I told her. “Those aren’t very respected schools. Their graduation rates are low.” She said. “Yeah but… I struggle in school, a lot, and I think these are the only ones that will take me.” She shook her head and started writing. “I want you to apply to these two schools.” She said and handed me the paper. “San Diego State University, University of San Diego? These are the best schools in the city.” She nodded. “I don’t think I’ll get in.” She just smiled at me. “You’ll never know until you try.” She said and I stared at the paper. Once I apply to these two I will have applied to five. “What if I don’t get into any of them?” I asked. “Then we’ll figure out what to do in the meantime and if you want, you can apply again next year.” With that my session was over and I walked out to the truck, the paper clutched in my hand. Once I got in and got the air flowing I looked down at it. “She’s crazy to think I will get in.”

I set the paper down on the table when I got home. I couldn’t think about it right now, my mind was swirling between Jake, the Kelly issue and school. I decided to get lost in a book, I decided to open up Twisted Love. Maybe a little romance will make me feel better. I laid on the couch as I read and had wine and pizza for dinner. It took me a few days to work up the courage to apply and it was Bradley who convinced me too. “So why haven’t you applied?” He asked as I sat on the couch eating a sandwich. “What if I don’t get in?” I asked. “Sounds like a dumb reason to not apply.” He said, making me frown. “You think?” I asked and he nodded. “I know. You should apply! If they say no then you can always apply again next year.” He said and I sighed. “But what will I do if I don’t get in? I can’t just sit around and wait a whole year.” He chuckled. “We’ll figure something out. Why don’t you just do it?” He asked. “I guess I really don’t have a reason not to.” He nodded. “If anything, you have every reason to do it.” He was right. “Okay, I’ll do it once we get off the phone.” I said. “Just so you know, Jake has been pouting since your call.” He said and I giggled. “You haven’t told him?” I asked and he grinned at me. “Absolutely not. I’m enjoying this way too much.” He said. “Has he asked?” He nodded. “At least once a day, and when he realized I knew why you were mad he’s taken to practically begging me to tell him.” I giggled at his words. 

“Well I guess it’s almost time for you to go to bed.” He said as I yawned and then I nodded. “Yeah, but I’m gonna send in those two applications before I go to bed.” I said. “You sure you’re not too tired?” He asked and I nodded. “I’ll sleep better if I go ahead and send them in. They’ve been stressing me out every time I think about them.” I said. “Makes sense. Well I’ll let you send those in and I’ll call you next week.” He said. “Alright. Bye, Bradley.” I said and he waved before the call ended. I took a deep breath before going upstairs and going into Jake’s room. It smelled like him and always made me feel better. I snagged his laptop that he’s been allowing me to use and went downstairs. I sat on the couch for an hour sending these two in before I got ready for bed. I put Jake’s laptop back in his room and turned to leave but I stopped in the doorway. Smelling his cologne brought me comfort and I hadn’t been sleeping the best. Maybe I could just snag one of his shirts. I made my way to his dresser and opened the drawer, it was mostly boxers and socks so I closed it and opened the one below it. 

I found a burnt orange longhorn shirt and it smelled strongly of Jake. Is it weird for me to wear his shirt? “It’ll be washed and back in his drawer before he ever gets home.” I took the shirt into my room and slipped it on. I looked in my mirror and honestly, I looked good in his shirt and white thong. If Kelly ever found out she’d lose it, but who gives a fuck what she thinks anymore. I crawled into bed and grabbed my book again. I was about halfway through the book and was growing tired until I read the words, ‘On your knees.’ My face burned and I closed the book. “Did I just read that?” I had never read smut before and part of me felt embarrassed. The other part of me had to continue. So I opened the book back up and read on. My entire body was burning as I read and with the smell coming from the shirt I had on, I could only think of Jake and I. Specifically, Jake and I in this situation. An entire weekend hidden away to do nothing but explore each other’s bodies. “Oh my god.” I said, slamming the book shut. “I did not just think that.” I said before setting the book down and rolling over in bed. “I just have to put it out of my mind.” I muttered but it took forever to fall asleep, the ache between my legs was strong but finally I drifted off. But of course Jake was an ever present figure in my dream.

After that I couldn’t pick the book back up, so I started A Court of Thorns and Roses instead. But at this point I also couldn’t fall asleep without wearing Jake’s shirt, so all night his scent wafted around me and he was constantly in my dreams. It was about three days after I sent in the applications that I started receiving emails about the nursing programs. So far I was asked to come in and interview for two and as I prepared dinner, my phone dinged again with another email. I wiped my hands clean and picked up my phone. I opened the email and smiled, ‘Miss Blair, congratulations on moving on to the next stage of the application process. We would love to have you in for a panel interview next week to see if you would be a good candidate for our program.’ I squealed as I looked at the logo for San Diego State University. Between them, United States University and the University of San Diego, I had to get into one, right? I immediately sent an email to Bradley and Natasha in my excitement, but I asked them to keep it quiet. I wanted to email Jake so badly, but I was still so mad at him. I needed these few weeks to hurry by so I could get everything sorted out, but with all the dreams I’ve been having I don’t even know if I could look him in the eye anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @wkndwlff @alltimereverie @cherrycola27 @daisydaisygoose @rosiahills22 @deanoheartspie @cornishkat @high-speed-r @fogle97 @mygyn @ohgodnotagainn @emma8895eb @senjoritanana @kmc1989 @sandaltoesocks @mayhemmanaged @dempy @itsdesiree86 @sunderland-6 @jstarr86 @brooke-stinson @rachkon @topguncultleader @bethbunnyy @topgun-imagines @clancycucumber230 @seitmai @kkrenae @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @eugene-emt-roe @hisredheadedgoddess28 @littlewhiterose @formulapierre @wade-wilsons-chew-toy @bethabear12 @halstead-severide-fan @gg-trini @memeorydotcom @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker @inthestars-underthesun @praline357 @fanboyluvr @greaser9902

[fabuloustrash05]

TMNT 87 RaMona Headcanons

Cause I keep talking about 2012 RaMona so why not give some attention to the ship that started it all?

Raph - Fell first, Mona Lisa - Fell harder

Jokester Jock x Spunky Nerd

Raph's love languages are quality time and words of affirmation. Mona's love language is acts of service and psychical touch.

Mona and Raph are actually the same age, with Mona only being a few months older. The being in college thing is because she's a science prodigy so she got into college early at a young age because of how smart she is.

Raph likes to brag about how smart she is to everyone.

When they argue, Mona usually wins cause she makes fully detailed and witty/logical arguments that just confuse Raph.

Raph was the first person (or mutant) to tell Mona she is beautiful after her mutation. This is what sparked Mona's feelings for him.

Mona likes pineapple on pizza, this horrifies Raph.

Raph sometimes struggles to figure out if Mona is flirting with him or is just teasing him with her overly flirtatious compliments. (The answer is both)

For the longest time these two were just really good friends with some romantic chemistry between them occasionally. Everyone would tell them they'd make a cute couple or assume they're already dating but they'd shut it down and laugh it off (though deep down they both kinda wanted it to be true)

Raph always had a little crush on Mona ever since he first met her, but never had the full courage to tell her how he feels. One time he tried confessing his feelings and ask her out but he ended up messing it up and just telling her a bad knock knock joke instead.

Plot twist: Mona knew he was trying to confess so knowing this "will they won’t they" won’t go anywhere unless one of them makes the first move, Mona took the first step by asking him out, which REALLY caught Raph off guard.

Their first date was at the movies, they saw a romantic comedy, then later got some pizza for dinner and relaxed on a rooftop together watching the stars.

Mona is usually the one who initiates their kisses. Raph is always too shy or stubborn to kiss her, but when he does it catches her off.

Though they are an official couple, the two like to mess with everyone and confuse them by telling their friends that they're still just friends after just making out.

Raph will say a pun and then proceeds to eagerly look at his girlfriend, wanting her approval of whether or not the pun was good.

They would be the first 87 couple to get married.

Raph proposed to Mona immediately after hearing her say a clever pun. She just said it and he quickly dropped down on one knee, no ring, and just asked her to marry him right then and there. She of course said yes.

They'd end up having a daughter named Marie (naming her after Marie Curie, famous physicist and Mona's idol)

[starlightsearches]

I have a request for Eddie x Reader where the reader is his best friend. They’ve been best friends for years, and are extremely close, sharing everything with each other. While hanging out and teasing one another the reader admits to Eddie that she’s worried she’s not good at giving head, (maybe an ex made a comment or something.) Eddie laughs at first, thinking she’s joking, but when he realizes she’s seriously upset about it he tries to comfort her. She ends up asking him if she can blow him to see if she’s bad at it and he’s reluctant, because he’s secretly been in love with her for a while, but eventually let’s her. She’s in love with him too, which is partially why she’s wanting to blow him. After or during the blow job she finally admits to him she’s loved him for a while. (Bonus points for praise kink/princess or good girl used)

Feel free to change anything to make it work for you! Thanks in advance.

What Are Friends For?

This was such a fun idea, bestie! I'm sorry it took me so fucking long!

Eddie Munson x F! Reader / 4.4k words

18+ only, best friends to lovers, pornos, oral (m recieving), fingering (f receiving) praise, nicknames for reader (princess, sweetheart, babe), language.

When Eddie asked you to run some errands with him, this wasn't what you had in mind.

You'd never been in the back room of Family Video—the bold, red 18+ only sign had kept you far away even after the warning stopped applying to you. But Eddie breezed past the curtain like he fucking lived there, so of course you had to follow. 

It's really not that exciting. Just a bunch of shelves—the same ones they have in the rest of the store—and if you don't look anywhere for too long, it's like you're watching him browse for a regular movie. 

Kind of.

"Hey, look at this," Eddie laughs, flashing one of the covers in front of you. It's a picture of a girl—half-naked but wearing a wide-eyed expression—a cheap replica of the Freddy Krueger glove reaching towards her tits, covered demurely with the palms of her hands.

"Ew, Eddie! Tell me you're not actually watching shit like . . . Wet Dream on Elm Street?"

You'd only been back in Hawkins a day or two—finally home from your first semester of college—but you're glad to see that things with Eddie are the same as always. After the shit storm the last few weeks had been, you needed this to be normal . . . or at least, as normal as it can be when you're shopping for porn together.

Eddie scoffs, but he places the tape back in the same empty space on the shelves. "Jesus, when did you turn into such a prude, princess? I thought going to college was supposed to fix that."

Ouch. Eddie may know you better than anyone, but that doesn't make him a mind reader. You shrug the comment off, despite the sting. "Guess it didn't work on me."

Leaving Eddie where he is, you sneak off to a new aisle, one where you can feel a little more comfortable letting your eyes brush over the lewd pictures to satisfy your curiosity, if nothing else. It's actually kind of . . . fun, in a weird way—comparing the sex appeal of all the bare-chested men stretched out on silk sheets, laughing at the cheesy titles. 

Until you catch Brian's eyes staring back at you from the front of one of the video tapes. 

Then there's his shining, wet smile, the feeling of his hands slipping against your skin in the darkness of somebody else's bedroom, heavy breaths and muffled music and is this okay?

"Blowjobs, huh?"

You flinch, heart stuttering when you turn towards the voice, feeling stupid for getting so worked up. It's just Eddie.

"What?"

He points to the same video that shoved you into the spiral. On second glance, the man doesn't really look like Brian—older, for sure, with a little less boyish charm . . . and a much bigger dick bulging against his underwear.

There's a girl on her knees in front of him, dainty hands planted on his thighs, and you wonder if you'd looked like that when it happened—all coquettish and doe-eyed, pink tongue hanging out of your wide-open mouth. 

Maybe then he would have called you back. 

"Oh, no, I was just—" you swallow hard, skin itching where it grows warm across your chest. You don’t get the chance to think through what you say next. "What does it feel like?"

There's a little crease between Eddie's knitted brows.  "What does what feel like?"

"Um, getting your dick sucked?" You're all hot with shame, but Eddie's hardly phased. 

"It feels awesome. Why?"

You could brush it off. He'd take your words at face value if you hit him with a just curious, but you're tired carrying this secret, and the longer it sits inside of you the more it feels like you're lying.

"You remember that guy I told you about, right?" 

Eddie frowns. "What guy?"

"You know . . . Brian. The one from my Creative Writing class?"

"You never said anything about a guy," he says, and the tone of his voice is hard as he doubles down. 

Damn him. Eddie had been paying more attention than you'd given him credit for in those weekly phone calls. You had to keep most of the conversation PG anyways—since there was always somebody waiting for their chance to snatch up the hall phone the second you'd set it back on the receiver—but you could have told Eddie about the whole thing without mentioning any of the nitty gritty. 

If you had wanted to. 

"Maybe I forgot." You shrug, pretending to browse, like Eddie wouldn't see through that act in half a minute. "Anyways, we went out a couple of times right before finals, and kind of . . . hooked up at a party and I went down on him. I dunno, I thought he might've liked me, but he stopped calling me back."

Eddie lets out a sharp sigh. "Christ. What an asshole." 

"You don't know that," you snap, feeling oddly defensive, "maybe it was bad." Maybe I was bad, you think. 

But that just makes him laugh in his distinctly Eddie way. "Unlikely, babe."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, it means that getting your dick sucked is pretty much always great," —he shrugs one shoulder, eyes tracing along the shelves again without seeing anything— “besides, you’re good at everything.”

You've developed a sudden, irresistible interest in ceiling tiles. "Whatever."

The silence between you is uncomfortable, and loaded like a gun, neither able to look at each other but both too flustered to look anywhere else.

"Well," Eddie cuts the tension in a voice that rides the line between serious and ironic, "there is one way to improve your technique."

He's got the not-Brian video again, waggling it in front of your face. 

Your first instinct is to slap it out of his hand, but you manage to keep your arms down, turning away from him instead. 

"Gross, Eds," you mumble, but just thinking about it still makes you warm between your thighs.

The more Eddie waits, though, the more he's convincing himself of it. He leans up against the shelf with his idea face on. The one that always comes before trouble.

"You wanna learn, right? Then you gotta learn from the best."

He holds the video out to you, but this time you can tell he's serious.

"I can't, I- my parents would see."

"Okay. I'll check it out for you." He adds it to his stack with the other video he’s grabbed before tucking it under his arm. You lunge for the tape, eyes wide, boxing him out with your shoulder when he reaches for it. Eddie doesn’t hold back, leaning all his weight against you until you’re pushed against the shelves, the hard slats digging into your chest and thighs.

You’re a little too old for play-fighting, but that’s not what’s got you all embarrassed. Eddie’s body smothers yours, warm and soft and so much fucking better than you’d imagined it, and he’s making these little grunting noises in your ear, trying to get a hold of the tape.

Oh fuck. 

You let him take it. Not the best option, but it’s more mature than throwing the fucking thing across the room, and that’s not a conversation you’re willing to have with the guy at the front desk. Eddie’s distracted enough by his success that you can finally slip past him, into the open air. He adds the tape triumphantly back under his arm, wearing a cheeky grin. 

The victory’s gone to his head, clearly. “Should we go, or do you want to find another one while we’re here?”

"I don’t have anywhere to watch it, Eds." You’re still breathing hard, and the heat in your cheeks won’t dissipate. 

“Watch it at the trailer, dummy."

"Okay,” you laugh, “what are you gonna do while I'm watching porn?"

He shrugs, looking down at his hands, picking some dirt out from under a nail. "We needed something for movie night, anyways.”

Jesus. That stuns the laughter right out of you. "This is different, Eddie."

He’s got this smile on when he gets in your face, your favorite little cheeky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart flop around in your chest. 

"Why? You worried you're gonna go all crazy with lust, baby? You afraid you're gonna fall in love with me?" He bats his big eyes at you, just joking again. 

Like you needed a reminder of what got you in this mess in the first place. Fuck somebody else to get over Eddie Munson sounded like a way easier thing in your head.

Still, it's not the worst idea ever. You mull it over, chewing on the thought like a tough piece of meat. Watching a porno with your best friend would be all kinds of awkward, but it also might be the least embarrassing way to get the answers you need.

Which says a lot about how dire your situation is. 

Eddie misreads your silence, slipping the tape back from underneath his arm, holding it out to you, a peace offering. “Listen—we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

You keep your hands at your sides, eyes flashing between Eddie’s soft brown ones and not-Brian’s on the box. 

"Do you think- do you think it would actually help?"

Eddie makes a sound like I don't know, shrugging his shoulders. "There's one way to find out." 

He’s right about that. You dig your nails into your palms and let out a heavy breath.

"Okay . . . but let's find a different video." 

The couch cushions are squishy beneath your palms, and you rock back and forth, eyes anywhere but the TV or Eddie. He’s on one knee in front of the wobbly little stand, bent in half and fiddling with the controls, pretty cavalier about the whole thing as he tosses the case on the floor. He flops down beside you once he reaches the couch, grabbing a pillow off the floor and tossing it in his lap.

"Comfortable?" 

Eddie leans over, sticking his fingers in your side until you squirm and let out a few little high-pitched giggles that sound nothing like your usual laugh. 

"I'm good, Eds."

He hums a sound, making it clear he doesn’t believe you. You hope the whirr of the tape will cover how heavy you're breathing. 

It doesn’t start out so bad. The screen lights up with the little blonde girl from the cover lying spread out on the red sheets. She shifts around for a few seconds, posing seductively while the guy—who looks nothing like Brian, this time—kisses at her pink lips, big and barrel chested, swallowing her body under his as he crawls on the bed. Just kissing and moaning, with loud wet mouths. 

You know, like any other movie. 

Eddie shifts beside you, just settling into the couch cushions, and you try to stay relaxed, gripping at your knees tight enough to feel the bones moving underneath. 

The man pets a big hand down over the woman’s hip as he adjusts for the camera, slipping it between her thighs and pressing tight against the lace of her underwear while she moans, writhing against the sheets.  

It’s getting harder to breathe. Brian hadn’t really touched you the night it happened—just second base—cupping your tits over your clothes while he kissed you all sloppy and wet. You’ve thought about hands under your skirt before, late at night in your dorm—imagining thick, long fingers and heavy rings.

But that part doesn’t last long enough for you to dwell on it. She’s getting on her knees.

The air in the room grows tighter, like saran wrap across your face, and you think Eddie is watching you, the burn of his eyes warm against your cheek. Maybe he is, but you don’t dare check, glued to the screen while the girl slips the man’s cock from under the band of his boxers. 

Jesus. It’s not like you’ve seen that many dicks—just the one—but there’s got to be something wrong with this guy. They’re definitely not supposed to be that big. It looks like a monster from a sci-fi movie, like the chest-burster from Alien, red and throbbing.  The girl can barely wrap her hands around him, trying to unhinge her jaw just to get his cock part way in her mouth.

“You okay, sailor?”

Eddie’s nudging you with his foot, graying sock planted against your clenched thigh. You let your eyes fall closed, counting back from ten. 

“I’m fine,” you tell him, but your voice is tight.

It feels like you’re gonna crack a tooth the way you can’t get your jaw to release, watching on the TV as the big man takes that poor girl’s head in his hands, shoving her down farther and farther over his angry, red, monster dick until she’s gagging, shining tears in her eyes. The retching sounds pour out of the tinny speakers, rattling your whole brain.

“Okay,”—you’re off the couch before you can really think about where you’re headed, fumbling for the power button on the front of the TV, pressing a bunch of others in your haste, stopping when you hear the heavy click. The screen buzzes out with a hum, and you fall on your ass to the carpet. 

You can see Eddie on the couch in the screen’s distorted gray reflection, eyes so big they’re taking up half his face.

“You okay?” he asks, quiet.

It’s hard to know for sure. Your body buzzes with the static of conflicting feelings, like you’re only half-way here.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. That was just, you know . . . a lot.” 

Eddie clears his throat, and maybe you should turn around and face him, but you’re not sure what he’d see when he looked at you—if all your emotions are just sitting there on the surface of your skin, waiting for him to pick them apart.

 “Yeah,” Eddie hums, “they’re not all that intense, though. We could always go find another one.”

“I think the one was enough.” 

You try to laugh, to show him that it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t handle it. Maybe that’s why Brian had left you in the dust. He was probably looking for a girl to give him something like that. Maybe all guys were. And that’s got you feeling really small. 

Eddie crawls from the couch, moving to sit beside you, one hand still bunched in the pillow to keep it tight against his lap. 

“It’s no big deal, sweetheart. We could always—”

Whatever he’s about to say next though, you’re not even thinking about it—too busy putting the pieces together for an entirely different puzzle.  

“Are you hard?” you blurt the question out.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Eddie flushes, and that’s answer enough.

Your mouth floods wet and hot, and you curl your fingers into the carpet, trying to swallow it all back down. Now is not the time to think about Eddie’s cock in your mouth. There is no good time to think about your best friend’s cock in your mouth. Thinking about his rings catching in your hair, the way his head would fall back as you tasted him, his deep voice full of whimpered moans and praise while you sucked the soul out of him. 

“I mean— we were just watching porn, so it would be normal, you know, if you were.”

“I, uh, yeah. I can’t help it.”

He laughs, maybe to make you feel more comfortable, but it’s got you wishing the floor would raise up and swallow you. You should have kept your fucking mouth shut. 

“Oh.”

A few beats of silence pass, and you wonder if you’re ever gonna be able to come back from this, or if you’re gonna spend the rest of your life wishing you could drive into oncoming traffic. 

“Why’d you wanna know?” He nudges you on the shoulder, and your hands find their way to your cheeks, pressing in until it hurts, trying to hide from him and to stop the sting of tears at the back of your throat.

“It’s stupid,” you whisper.

Eddie takes both your wrists in his gentle, calloused hands, tugging until he can look you in the eyes.

“Now you gotta tell me, princess.”

His thumb traces little shapes on the inside of your wrist, and there has to be some kind of magic he’s hiding from you, because you’re actually thinking about telling him the truth.

“It’s really dumb, okay? I just thought . . . if I’m gonna learn . . .”

What you don’t say is that he’s the only person you trust enough for something like this. You don’t tell him that it feels like your only hope. You don’t tell Eddie how badly you want it to be him. 

His thumb stops right against your thrumming pulse.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, sorry, it was fucking stupid and I should just go—” You’re almost to your feet when he grabs at you again, pulling you to a stop. 

“It’s not stupid.” 

Eddie lets the pillow drop from his lap, and your eyes trace over him—down the Metallica logo on his shirt and his belt buckle and the bulge in his jeans.

The weight of the moment slows your movements, has you straining to meet his eyes before you ask, “are you sure, Eds?”

“Yeah, of course I’m sure,”—he swallows— “if it’ll help you out, yeah.” 

You didn’t expect that. Didn’t think he’d give you a yes, and now you’ve got to ask yourself if it would be better to see Eddie Munson fall apart for you just once in your life, or never at all.

“Should we just-” you gesture back to the couch, and Eddie takes a couple steps in that direction until his knees buckle against the cushions. You slip to the ground with a little help, steadying yourself on the arm rest.

It’s fucking weird, finding your balance with your hands at his thighs, feeling the denim beneath your palms and the soft give of his skin beneath that. Eddie’s taking heavy breaths through his parted lips when you look at him, looking almost as scared as you feel.

“You’re still gonna be friends with me, right? Even if this sucks?”

That makes him laugh, and he nods. One of your hands snakes towards his belt.

“Wait,”—Eddie catches your fingers between his, tugging a little— “do you think we should kiss first?”

“What?”

“I mean,” his cheeks go pink, and he won’t look you in the eye, staring at the hand that’s caught yours while he fiddles with one of his rings, “you’re about to have my dick in your mouth. I just thought, maybe that would be weird, so . . .”

“You think kissing first would make this less weird?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eddie says, but the dejected look on his face talks louder, “I’m just being stupid—”

You catch his jaw in your hand, pressing your lips to his before you can talk yourself out of it.

Eddie’s kiss is warm and soft after he gets over the shock of it, relaxing into you with a gentle sigh that sends a jolt through you, whole body electrified. Something about him tastes familiar—like he’s been stealing all your chapstick from your bag again—but there’s nothing greasy left on your skin when he shifts, catching your bottom lip between his own. He just tastes like Eddie. 

And you can’t get enough of it. Even when you know that you should pull away—when you recognize that this is more than a friendly pre-blowjob peck—you don’t want to. You press forward instead, just letting your tongue brush the seam of his lips. Eddie smiles against you.

Then he jumps back with a little huh, almost like a moan. You’re surprised to see that your hand had slipped from his belt buckle, tracing the shape of his cock through his jeans.

“Oh,” your cheeks go flush, and you pull your hand back just a little, “sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Eddie tells you, “did you wanna . . .?”

He glances back down at his bulge. 

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

You slip the strap of his belt through the loops before fiddling around with the buckle. The metal clinks when you push it to the side, jingling a little as Eddie shifts. There’s the soft pop of the button, and the metallic rumble of his zipper, uncovering more and more of Eddie’s blue boxers, and it’s all got you on pins and needles, shaking with anticipation. You keep your eyes on his when you reach inside the fabric, finding him by touch instead of sight.

Oh. Eddie’s cock is warm in your palm as you slip it from the gap in his boxers. He’s a little bigger than Brian was, but not enough to scare you, deep blue veins tracing paths from the patch of dark hair at the base up to the pink flushed head. 

This one only brings the total number of dicks you’ve seen up to three, but Eddie’s is definitely the prettiest.

His thighs are tense under your arms as you explore him with your fist, bouncing your hand just slightly, your thumb tracing one of his veins. Eddie’s trying to keep it together for you—lips pressed tight so you won’t hear the little sounds he’s making, or the pink flush climbing up his neck, but you know, and you see it, and you want more. 

 You lean in just close enough for your lips to hover over the tip, stopping before your lips brush against him. 

“Let me know what feels good?” you ask.

Eddie nods, voice tight. “Just . . . start slow.”

Easy enough. You let some spit collect at the front of your mouth, coat the tip of your tongue with it before parting your lips against his burning skin, just wide enough that you can take the head inside, sealing your lips under the seam. 

“Yeah, shit, just- just like that.” 

You’ve hardly done anything—just circled your tongue around him, pressing at the slit a little, but Eddie’s acting like you’ve fucking put a man on the moon, curling one hand in your hair, the other in a white-knuckle grip against the couch cushions. You take a little more of him, and the stretch isn’t so bad when you glance up through your lashes. 

Eddie’s got his head thrown back, jaw taut and chest heaving, and it’s got you wondering if he was right earlier. 

Maybe you are good at everything. 

The praise goes straight to your head, of course, confidence doubled knowing that Eddie likes the way your mouth feels around him, and wasn’t that what all of this was for? 

“Fuck, princess, that’s so fucking good. Fucking perfect.” 

The hand in your hair guides you, but gently, as you bounce up and down on his cock, tugging a little at your roots until you whine. There’s a swell of pleasure in your belly, one that travels straight to your cunt when he groans, and you know you’ll be thinking about this moment for a long time, every night you’re alone. 

You’re getting far enough down that you can feel the head of his dick nudging at your soft palate, eliciting a soft gag each time your head dips to kiss the edge of your fingers. Some spit leaks down from the seal of your lips, and you spread it with your palm, coating all the spaces you’re not going to be able to reach.

And Eddie’s so fucking loud—just the way you want him—whining and babbling as his hips shift and his dick twitches and you’re sure you’re gonna make him cum some place besides your dreams.

“Jesus, princess,” Eddie pants, and he can’t get a whole word out between his heavy breaths, “knew you’d be good at this. Never could stop thinking about you on your knees for me.”

What?

Maybe he forgot you were here. Maybe he’s thinking about somebody else to get through this, imagining their lips and their hands, but you don’t think so, even if it’s always seemed impossible. With the way he’s cupping the back of your head so gently, how you can feel his muscles shift under the palm of your hand, you know Eddie’s too far gone to lie to you. 

And maybe that makes you a little crazy, doubling your efforts as you hollow your cheeks around him, letting your tongue lave over his sticky tip, tracing the shape of him until he can’t help himself.

“Jesus, fuck, baby—” he’s trying to pull you off him, maybe embarrassed about how easy it was for you to get him so close, maybe worried that you don’t want a mouthful of his cum. 

But that’s exactly what you want. You hear his deep groan, feel it shaking in your chest as it drips down your throat, and you swallow every drop of it.

“Jesus H. Christ.”

That’s all Eddie has for you when you finally pull off him, eyes blown wide and expression slack. For the first time, you let yourself think about how pretty he is without the accompanying guilt. 

When he gets a hold of himself, he can’t meet your eyes, too busy tucking his spit-coated dick back into his pants to look at you.

You crawl up on the couch beside him, just watching, smiling too wide. It makes your jaw ache, but you can’t help it. Eddie’s all embarrassed when he finally meets your eyes. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, scooting a little closer, pressing chest to chest. It’s your turn now to be a tease, after all the shit he’s given you. “I’m just wondering how long you’ve had your little crush on me.”

“Okay,” Eddie blanches, looking for some kind of escape route, but you’re not giving him an inch, “it’s not that big of a deal . . .”

“Yes it is, Eddie. Because, if we’re being honest with each other now, I want you, too.” 

Eddie’s hand shakes when you take it in your own, trembling against your thighs when you press it up your skirt, holding against the soaked fabric between your thighs. He lets out a little surprised breath, eyes searching. He looks scared to death of you. 

“Oh, fuck. Really?”

You hum, pressing his fingers tighter against your core until one slips between your lips, right up against your dripping hole. 

“Since I made one of your fantasies come true, why don’t you return the favor?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, like he still can’t believe his luck, “okay.”

[teecupangel]

man I know you've got a million what ifs and I don't expect you to spin this anywhere but I was just looking at some Yusuf fanart and wondering how Desmond would feel if he was reborn as Yusuf

It would be such a weird intersection of Ezio and Altaïr memories for him

and the twin pulls to go to Ezio and help him however he can, and the rancid bile that is Templars making their home in Masyaf

and of course the Petruccio problem, that Desmond feels like he took someone else's life, someone he knew enough to know he's not him, that he's an identity thief.

(And also the continued tragedy of Desmond being born in Ezio's era, but too late to help him in his youth.)

We can keep Desmond from going ‘fuck it’ and either joining Ezio or doing something about the Templars’ occupation in Masyaf thanks to Yusuf’s backstory of having no father and only having his mother raised him. His mother would be the only reason why Desmond continued to stay in Constantinople. Honestly, what we know of Yusuf’s life is from the novelization of the movie where his descendant relived his early years. From that though, we can get Desmond into accidentally creating a Brotherhood made up of street urchins. They’re more on the side of thieves than actual Assassins because Desmond focused on keeping everyone alive and healthy.

So when the Brotherhood heard of an organized Thieves Guild, Ishak Pasha is the one to look into it.

There, he meets up with Desmond (who goes by Desmond with only his mother being the one to call him ‘Yusuf’) and Ishak mistakes Desmond as one of the leaders’ main messengers.

Desmond didn’t bother to correct his misconception and lets Ishak watch them in action with Desmond talking to himself in 3rd Person much to the amusement of his fellow ‘thieves’. Ishak learns they call their leader ‘mentor’ and realized that a lot of them move like Assassins.

When he sees Desmond’s Hidden Blade which he had received from his mother a few years back, Ishak finally realizes that Desmond is the mentor.

After this, we can go either:

Desmond and his Brotherhood of ‘street rats’ are taken in by the Brotherhood for formal training or

Desmond and his Brotherhood remain to be a separate organization that are closely allied with the Brotherhood but do not bow to any mentor.

I feel like Desmond would pick to remain independent for various reasons but mostly, he decides to be independent because he doesn’t see himself as an Ottoman Assassin, clinging to his Levantine roots. Ishak might even think that Desmond was truly a descendant of a Levantine Assassin of old, maybe of even the great Al-

No.

Probably not.

With Desmond’s Brotherhood being an independent organization, he gets to train people he trust to keep his mother safe. Once he’s sure they’d be fine by their own, years have passed and Desmond…

Desmond knows Ezio would be making his way to Masyaf this year.

So…

He goes to Masyaf as well.

.

.

Okay, so we know that Desmond would searched for the Masyaf Keys as soon as he could and we can give him maybe most of them… except one. The key that seemed to have disappeared, most probably in Templar hands that Desmond is still searching for.

This way, we have an excuse for Ezio to go to Constantinople with Desmond after they cleaned up Masyaf.

Ezio tries to reason that even if they kill every single Templar in Masyaf, they’d just bring in more and finds Desmond’s insistence to clean up Masyaf as a fool’s errand. At the same time, he’s jealousy of the passion Desmond has for the Creed but worries of how Desmond seems to be stuck in the past as well.

Desmond would be a bit cagey of who he is but he’d tell Ezio that his name is Desmond. Ezio would be surprised but he wouldn’t believe Desmond is the same Desmond that Minerva talked about because, as far as he knew, Desmond was meant to be alive centuries from now. Desmond didn’t bother to tell him the truth. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe after they have said their goodbyes to Altaïr…

Maybe.

.

The Petruccio problem will definitely rear its ugly head every time his mother would call him ‘Yusuf’, the first time Ezio would learn his real name is ‘Yusuf’ and whenever he sees the Brotherhood have a different mentor instead of… the real Yusuf Tazim. 

That was also a reason why he decided that his Brotherhood (maybe we’ll name it the Brotherhood of Shadows? It would be funny if Desmond goes “we’re the Hidden Ones” without having any ideas that that was the original name of the Brotherhood) would work independently. He’s trying to step away from Yusuf Tazim’s footsteps, like an exact opposite of the initial plans of the Desmond Miles who became Petruccio Auditore. 

He wants to carve his own path because he believes he’d only be sullying Yusuf’s memories if he pretended to be him.

.

……… Wanna fuck with Desmond some more?

Of course you do XD

So…

How about Suleiman and Desmond actually meet and they sorta-kinda grow close in a ‘I think of you as a friend’ way for Suleiman and in a ‘I know you’re gonna be sultan later so I’m being nice to you’ way for Desmond.

But the more Desmond talk to Suleiman, the more he notices…

Suleiman sounds a lot like Malik.

And his memories of Malik make Desmond feel… a kinship with Suleiman that may or may not even be there. And Desmond is now worried.

That Suleiman would become the Lorenzo to his Giovanni and compromise them all.

(And yes, I did think of this because Suleiman and Malik have the same voice actor!)

[th3sp4rr0w]

(Originally I put the summary under the cut, but now it's just the chapter for Tumblr-only users)

Prompts for Day One; Drugging/Sick/Poisoned

Alt. Prompt for Day One; Bloody Knuckles

Prompts Used; Sick, Bloody Knuckles

Tw; Blood, Injury, Homophobia, Slurs, Dental Trauma, Vomiting Mention

Life had changed a lot since attempting to steal the bat-mobile’s tires. 

Before, he’d just been Jason Todd. Poor little Jason Todd, who’d found his mom dead, whose father was doing who-knows-what at this point. Homeless Jason Todd, who’d run away from any foster home they’d ever stuck him in, who sold stolen tires just to try and somewhat survive. Then, he’d made the stupidest, best decision of his life. 

He thought he was going to die there in that street, facing the man that had even the bravest goons running to try and receive mercy. He did what he thought he could and hit him with a tire-iron to try and escape. Then, the furry had kidnapped him. He’d just tried to steal from The Batman, then he’d actually managed a hit on him with a make-shift weapon- he hadn’t wanted to think about what was next then. 

Batman didn’t end his life and hide his body where nobody would find it. He’d asked if he was okay, gave him food, offered his home. Introduced him to his butler because, wow, Batman trusted him with his secret identity? Batman was Bruce Wayne? Multi-billionaire Bruce Wayne?? The guy that was on the news last week for getting drunk and falling into Gotham harbor during some fancy rich-people-boat party? 

Bruce was surprisingly... nice. When he found out Jason’s mom had died and his dad was apparently locked up, he took Jason in. He and Alfred put up with all of his shitty behavior over the first few weeks, introducing him to his older brother Dick (seriously, who wants to be called that?) and even making him Robin. Sure, the beginning months were rough but in a couple weeks, Dick promised to take him to see a movie he was excited for. For the first time since his mom died, he felt like he had someone who cared about him. Which, yeah, it was nice to have people that wanted to know about his day and were coherent enough to respond to him, and he’ll forever feel grateful for the people in his life that hadn’t just turned away from the sight of him, but it was especially good to have people who cared about him because- 

Jason sneezed, coughing directly after. There was neon green snot on his arm as he pulled back, a string connecting it to the septum of his nose, making it impossible to know which nostril had decided to betray him. He could feel the gunk in his lungs trying to escape before settling down without much more fuss. 

Gross. 

Immensely glad he had decided to change into a short sleeve after sweating through Dick’s hoodie during a hot flash, he carefully followed the string until it reached his arm and broke it with a short wipe. He peeled back the covers enough to blindly reach over to his nightstand, intensely focused on the snot to make *certain* that it didn’t smear anywhere, he wasn’t cleaning that up right now. His hand bumped his alarm clock, then his water bottle (thank God for Alfred), his tea thermos (once again, thank you, Alfred), and finally hit something soft. He pulled at the tissue box, pulling it up in the air until the tissue released from its prison, coming over to wipe at his nose before finally cleaning his arm. 

Yes, he was sick. He had been eating breakfast before school the other morning, excited to read his essay for English class that afternoon and chatting happily with Bruce about it before he’d stopped mid-sentence, causing said man to lean over and ask if he was alright. That had turned out to be a mistake, as what had once been a delicious pancake spewed out of him along with whatever had been for dinner the night before. It tasted like stomach acid mixed with syrup. 

Jason... probably won’t be eating his pancakes with syrup for a while. 

He coughed again, barely covering his mouth before another glob of mucus made its debut, flying out onto the tissue. He stared at it in disgusted fascination. 

He heard feet from the hallway before Dick lightly kicked open his door, a tray of soup in his hands and what sounded like a bottle of meds rattling in his pocket. Bruce had left earlier that morning for a mandatory meeting, Alfred had left for his weekly grocery run (which took twice as long as any grocery trip should’ve reasonably taken with Bruce and Alfred’s particularity for certain brands/quality, often resulting in hunting through several grocery stores before finding what they needed), and Dick had taken off work just to look after Jason. They knew he probably could’ve managed, but he was glad he wasn’t alone.  

Dick looked at Jason, the look on his face making it clear he had just heard the boy cough up his left lung. 

“You okay, Jay-bird?,” he asked, setting the tray in front of him. 

Instead of replying, he showed Dick the tissue in all its neon green, saliva-ridden glory. Dick whistled before pulling an exaggerated face. “That came out of you?”  

Jason leveled him with an unimpressed look, “No, Dickface, I found someone else’s used tissue and decided to bring it back here to save it for an occasion like this,” he deadpanned. 

The older teen threw his head back and laughed, “Glad to know you’re feeling better.” 

Jason ‘hmphed’ before slumping back down into his pillows, tossing the tissue at his older brother’s face. “Still can’t focus, though,” he said as Dick tried to dodge the makeshift projectile. 

Dick stared at the tissue, now on the floor, before responding. “Why don’t you pull up something to watch on your laptop?” 

“Headache. The sound makes it feel like someone’s putting nails into my head.” 

He winced in sympathy, pulling the rattling bottle of meds out of his pocket before tossing it next to the tray. “What about reading?” 

Jason groaned, “I just told you; I can’t focus for shi-, iii, choo!” 

He sneezed again into his elbow, his leg jolting a bit and spilling some of the soup onto the tray. Dick handed him another tissue and looked at him with that stupid expression on his face. 

“Man, you’re having it rough right now, huh?” 

“You think?” he said miserably. “I can’t watch anything, I can’t read my book, and the neighbor kid’s dad is home, so he hasn’t been responding to my texts!” 

Dick frowned. He only knew of one “neighbor” around, but he was a bit young, wasn’t he? He’d press it, but Jason looked so miserable...  

He’d save the interrogation for a different day. 

“I think Bruce has some old case files if you want to take a look? They’re already solved so no pressure to focus and you can get some practice.” 

Jason thought for a second. That... did sound more enjoyable than sitting here, bored out of his mind and miserable. He quirked his eyebrow, “Sure, but if he gets upset I’m telling him it was your idea, Dickface.” 

Dick laughed lightly. “Deal. Eat your soup, I’ll go get the files.” 

Jason heaved himself off the pillows, frowning. “Paper copies?” 

Dick rolled his eyes and shrugged, leaning towards Jason’s nightstand. “You know how he is, has to have a million copies and back-ups of every single case and incident we’ve ever had,” He picked up each of Jason’s cups, checking the fullness of each before taking both under his arm, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he still has a copy of the incident report I made him write up when he scared the living daylights out of me on patrol and made me drop my ice cream.” 

Jason made a sound close to a laugh, “You made him do what? And I thought I was bad when I first started going out as Robin!” 

Dick smirked. “I had just started going out as Nightwing, actually.” 

Before Jason could react, Dick was out of the door and down the hall, laughing. Jason shook his head. 

Things weren’t perfect. Sometimes Bruce was too paranoid and made them do dumb tasks. Sometimes Dick was super annoying and wouldn’t listen when Jason told him to stop touching him. Sometimes Alfred, well-meaning as he was, didn’t get that something in Jason kept screaming and could only be soothed with chili dogs and churros from a questionable stand in Crime Alley. Sometimes something in Jason felt like a wound that wouldn’t heal no matter what he tried and he didn’t know how to say that out loud just yet. Even with all the books he’s read and the things he’s done, he doesn’t think he’ll ever have the words to describe the feeling that keeps him awake at night. 

Yet, he loved his family all the same. He hadn’t had anyone to love since his mom passed. He knew it’d never be the same. And yet...  

Dick creaked the door open with freshly refilled cups, one of some water he was certain he’d poured his favorite electrolyte mix into, the other of Alfred’s tea, along with a whole stack of papers in neatly labeled folders. He smiled at him and forced him to take medicine, kissed his temple (“To check your temperature!” “That’s fucking weird!” “Language! Let me love you!” “No!”) and ruffled his hair. He made sure the covers were tucked tight and that he had eaten at least a good chunk of his soup. He somehow replaced the almost-empty tissue box without Jason noticing before he left. He’d glued little bats to it and left a note; “Get better soon, Little Wing!! <3” 

Things may have not always been stellar in that apartment in the worst part of Gotham City, but he knew deep down he’d always miss it. Always miss his mom, her humming and the way she’d smooth down his hair. Miss the way when she was coherent enough she could throw together a meal out of next to nothing that would feed them until they were satisfied. Often enough, in the beginning anyways, there were even leftovers for lunch. He’d always miss her and the time they shared. 

Things would never be the same, but that was okay. He had grown to love everything about the family, his family, that had taken him in. Dick and the way he’d wake everyone up on a Saturday morning with obnoxious off-key singing. The way Bruce would check over every inch of Jason to make sure he’d bandaged every scrape and soothed every bruise. The smell of the kitchen when Alfred was cooking, and how he’d allow Jason to watch from the doorway for a few minutes before inviting him in to walk him through what he was doing and why. 

He smiled to himself as he started looking over the old cases. 

It was surprisingly easy to keep track of them when there was no pressure. He had the majority figured out before he had gotten to the end of the file- though, whether that was because he had done any detective work or just remembered Dick and Bruce telling him about these cases before, who's to say?  

He even recognized some from his very first Robin days, before he had met Dick properly and he watched over Alfred when he was cooking to make sure he wasn’t putting anything in the food. He remembered Bruce’s training and hiding in his closet to sleep most nights. 

How times change. 

He finished the file in his hand, putting it neatly on top of the pile beside his bed. He opened the next one without bothering to read the title, only to do a double take. 

He... he knew Bruce had looked into his parentage, and potential siblings. He had known he’d had an older brother, one that died before he was born, Dan? He thinks his name was? But according to this, he had a twin.  

He glanced up at the title- Willis Todd Family and Criminal Record. His eyes went back down to trace over the paper. 

This just couldn’t be right, could it? Except it was Bat-approved, so it had to be right. He had a twin in an unknown location. 

His.... his mom hadn’t given birth to him. 

Of course, Bruce wasn’t going to leave his kid’s name laying around in the Batcave. He’d been smart enough to mark out their first names. “D__ Todd” “J____ Todd” “D_____ Todd”. 

He’d also marked their mother’s name. “S_____ H______”. He had also written down that he’d had a wife named “C_______ Todd” that passed away a few years ago. 

He wasn’t mad that Bruce didn’t tell him. He’d probably thought he’d known or wouldn’t want to know that he’d been abandoned by the woman who’d given birth to him. Probably thought he wasn’t interested in meeting the woman who had decided he’d be such a waste of time, or a twin he’d never known. 

In a way, that was right. He had Dick. He was already scheming on cajoling Bruce into adopting the neighbor kid (seriously, six months ago the kid’s mom passed, and his dad already moved them out of their old place and married to someone else, who does that?). He didn't need another brother who probably didn’t know of Jason’s existence. 

He knew “S” wouldn’t be a replacement for his mom. No matter what happened, Catherine Todd had been the one who cared. She soothed his fevers, protected him from his dad when nights got rough, taught him how to read. She was the one who showed him the value of a good story, whether that was on the page or being quick on his feet in a pinch. His mom was the only one who had believed he’d ever get out of the life that had snuffed out her light. 

But he missed her. “S” wasn’t a replacement, but she might be a good addition to the family he had around him. 

Jason grabbed his phone, taking a picture of the relevant papers, careful not to mix them up. Anything that had the blacked-out name was logged to pour over later, when he felt a bit more human. He placed them all into the same folder he’d found them in and on top of the stack of cases he’d already looked over. He opened the next one. 

He knew his family would help him in a heartbeat if he asked. For now, though, he’d sit on the information he had. He wanted to know how he felt about it before he went to anyone else. 

He’d tell them when he was ready. 

A while later, the door was gently eased open. Bruce Wayne carefully made his way in, smiling gently at the sight. 

There was his youngest, blanket half on the floor, sprawled in bed the way only a kid could be comfortable. Just like Dick had said, he saw case files spread around him, miraculously not getting creased by the 15 yr old as he breathed through his mouth. There were a number of files on the floor, looking like they had once been stacked before being tipped over (probably by the blanket), now strewn across the room. 

He started gathering those first, organizing them as he went. He paused as he saw which file he was picking up next. Shit. 

Dammit, Dick. No, he shouldn’t blame his oldest for his mistakes. That would just prove to Dinah that she was right, and he needs therapy. He should’ve had this separate from his other case files, the way he’d done for Dick when he investigated his parent’s death. He never learns, does he? 

He looked over to Jason. Okay. He... should let Jason come to him. Give him time to process, assuming he saw the file at all. There’s no need to put Jason through unnecessary stress, especially since he’s just getting settled into his expectations with Robin, and school, and getting over being sick. 

He finished grabbing the rest of the case files on the floor, moving to the papers strewn around on the bed. He smiled down at Jason as he grabbed at the files.  

Having them in a stack he set on the edge of the nightstand, he carefully took in Jason’s state. He was breathing better, less pale. He could tell he was still stuffy, but less so than the day before. 

He brushed his sweaty hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling the covers back up to his chin.  

He made sure Jason was snug and secure before grabbing the files and going to the door, easing it open and nearly closed again. 

He watched from the doorway as Jason let out a gentle sigh and shifted in his sleep. He let a fond look cross his face. 

He’d do anything to protect his boys. They hadn’t had the easiest lives, and he knew he was partly to blame in that regard, but he loved them. 

No more harm would come to them, he swore it. He’d lay down his life to ensure that if it came to it. 

He closed the door silently and walked away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

In a small nowhere town in Illinois called Amity Park, teen Danny Fenton crawled in through his bedroom window. 

He sighed, pulling the first aid kit out of its usual place underneath some floorboards. He opened it up before pulling off his shirt to patch himself up. He drenched some gauze in disinfectant before pressing it to weeping wounds of scarlet and neon. He’s... not actually sure if he’s doing this right, but hey, everything’s healed so far, so he must be doing something right. 

He pressed fresh gauze pads to the worst parts, securing it with some medical tape before wrapping the whole thing loosely with two ace bandages he’d stitched together to make it long enough. 

He’s definitely sure he shouldn’t be doing that, but he usually sweats too much on gym days for the tape to stick and he didn’t want another awkward conversation. 

The rest of the cuts and scrapes got band aids decorated with stars, courtesy of Sam. By the time he was done, all that was left were bruises and he looked vaguely like a mummy that had been reanimated. He flopped face-first on his bed just in time for his alarm to start shrieking at him. He sighed before getting back up, pressing it off. 

 He got dressed on auto pilot. Last night’s patrol resulted in too many scrapes on his arms and he already used the skateboard excuse three times in the last month or so... 

Eh, it’s cold enough. He pulled on his NASA hoodie before stumbling into the bathroom to brush his teeth and use the toilet. 

By the time he got downstairs, Jazz shoved a rolled-up pancake at him, “Come on! We still need to pick up Tucker and Sam, we’re going to be late, grab your bag! Hurry!” she hissed. 

He blinked before doing as she said, sinking his teeth into his breakfast and grabbing the bag he left on the couch last night. 

“Bye, mom and dad!” he called behind him. He didn’t hear anything back as he shut the door. Typical morning, really. 

He opened the car door before he tossed his bag on the floor in front of him, plopping down in the front seat. He yawned and took another bite of delicious pancake. 

Jazz watched him, clicking her seatbelt and adjusting the mirror of her dingy little car. “When did you get back last night?” 

Danny blinked before reaching for his seatbelt blindly. “Um... not long before my alarm went off. Maybe half an hour?” 

Jazz blinked. “You’ve only gotten half an hour of sleep?” 

He snorted. “Had to do first aid. Just crawled into bed when my alarm went off.” 

Jazz winced in sympathy and started the car. “What happened?” 

Danny groaned. “Skulker. Teamed up with Technus. Remind me to keep those two souped forever.” 

Jazz snorted as she pulled out of the driveway. “You have to release them sometime, Danny.” 

Danny ‘hmphed’ playfully. “Okay, okay. A year. Minimum.” 

Jazz laughed properly this time, turning onto Tucker’s street. “Danny!” she exclaimed. 

She slowed down as they laughed together, pulling to a stop in front of Sam and Tucker. 

“Hey, guys,” Danny greeted as Tucker threw open the back door, crawling through the seat until he was behind Jazz, Sam close behind him. 

“Hey, Danny,” the other boy responded as he settled in, placing his backpack on the middle seat. 

“Hey Jazz, hey Danny,” Sam said as she shoved her backpack next to Tuckers, pulling a can from the side pocket and bumping Danny’s shoulder with it. 

Danny looked at it before grabbing it, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you my life, have I ever told you how much I love and admire-”  

“Danny!” Sam interrupted, exasperated. 

“What did you give him?” Tucker asked. 

Danny twisted around as much as the seatbelt would allow, holding the can up like it was a prize he had won in a contest, “Zesti!” 

“Oh ancients,” Jazz groaned, “You gave him more zesti? I just got him weaned off of that!” Despite her words, she made no move to take the can that Danny had now opened. 

“I know, but,” Sam said, “I was out with him until 2 last night and I know he didn’t go home until after I went to bed.” 

“How do you know this?” her tone was suspicious as she looked at the gothic teen through the rearview mirror. 

Sam gave a guilty smile, “I texted him last night just before I fell asleep and he said he hadn’t gone home yet.” 

Jazz shook her head as Danny took small sips, savoring the sugar-bomb, caffeine-laced heart attack inducer. She said nothing. 

The teens devolved into chatter, asking about homework and grades and where to meet up for lunch. All too soon, they were parked in the student parking lot, expected to truck up to the school in time for their first classes. 

They hauled up to the school, the trio of friends breaking off with Jazz as they go to their respective parts of the building. 

“Dude, I’m so sorry if I got you in trouble with Jazz!” Sam exclaimed as they walked. “I forgot she thought you quit.” 

“It’s fine, as long as she thinks it’s just once,” he replied. “It’s my fault for freaking her out that one time.” 

“I still can’t believe you managed to overdose on caffeine,” Tucker muttered. “I mean, seriously, it’s not even a drug!” 

Sam snorted, pushing him lightly, “It’s technically a drug, Tucker.” 

Danny watched with an easy smile on his face as Tucker’s brain practically made windows error noises. “Does this mean you’re drugging Danny right now?” 

“Shut up!” Sam hissed as they passed a teacher with a ‘What did I just overhear?’ face on. 

Danny held up his energy drink can and the teacher rolled their eyes while nodding, as if that had explained everything. 

“Alright, this is me. You guys gonna be okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, probably,” Danny said. 

Sam looked at him a few more seconds before producing a second can of zesti. “Don’t chug it, please,” she said while handing it to him. 

Danny’s face lit up before he kissed the can, “Thank you, I owe you forever, what do you want I’ll give you anything-” 

“Go to class!” she pretended she wasn’t laughing at his dramatics. 

He laughed as he stuck the can in his pants pocket, waving goodbye before following Tucker to their first period. 

“Seriously though, man,” Tucker starts out, “Please don’t chug that. We don’t need a repeat of last time.” 

“Okay, I admit, last time was pretty bad,” he agreed, “But, last time I hadn’t slept in like a week and had 5 of the extra strength ones. These bad boys only have 150 milligrams each, which is about two cups of coffee, and-” 

“Why do you know this?”  

“I did research after I passed out last time. Turns out, 1500 mils of caffeine probably would’ve killed a normal person,” he shrugged. 

“Dude.” 

“What? Anyways, you know it takes more caffeine to affect me anyways, so 300 milligrams isn’t actually that bad to start out with.” 

Tucker shook his head. “You’re going to die, man.” 

Danny grinned and opened his mouth. 

“Don’t even think about it!” the other boy mock scolded. 

He laughed in response. 

Soon enough, they were in their respective seats in the middle of the classroom as the math teacher droned on about triangles. Danny was pretty sure he could puzzle out the math problem on the board if he needed to so he let his eyes drop a bit as he sipped on his sweet, sweet nectar. 

He felt something hit the back of his head as muffled laughter grated his ears. “Dash,” he thought to himself. It was exactly his M.O. 

He didn’t turn around as he felt the paper drop into his hood. He fished it out blindly and looked at it, smoothing it out. 

“Daniel!” he heard the teacher call. “Since you’re so keen to pass notes in my class, why don’t you read it out loud?” 

He heard the other kids “ooo,” as he stared at the note. “Are you sure, ma’am?” 

She rolled her eyes, “Yes, I am, Mr. Fenton.” 

Danny quirked an eyebrow. “Daniel Fenton is a faggot,” he read out, listening as the class burst into laughter, “Yeah, laugh it up, that’s so original everyone! I’ve never been called a-” 

“Okay, okay!” the teacher attempted to deescalate. “Mr. Fenton, if you knew it was inappropriate, why did you read it?” 

“Hang on- you told me to!” he protested. “Why am I getting in trouble? I’m the one that got hit in the head-” 

“Hush!” She said, “Meet me here after school!” 

“Wait- you’re not even going to ask who wrote it?” 

“I don’t care,” she dismissed, “You’re the one who read it aloud.”  

Danny looked at Tucker, his jaw hanging open in sheer astonishment. Tucker shrugged, wide-eyed. 

“I can’t believe that worked!” he heard someone exclaim quietly behind him. 

“I know! I oughtta throw stuff at Fenturd more often!” This time he could pinpoint the voice perfectly. 

Dash Baxter. Just as he suspected. It was exactly like this stupid school to let him get away with everything he ever tried. 

He sighed and went back to nursing his drink. 

The day went on like that. Every single time Danny tried to keep his head down and pay attention to his classes or even just do his own thing, there was Dash, throwing things at him, threatening him, or doing whatever he could to make his life miserable.  

It had been like this since the schedules got revised for the second semester and he got stuck sharing the exact. same. schedule. as the blond. He felt he was going nuts with the number of stupid comments and slurs the jock threw his way. 

“... He just won’t leave me alone!” he recounted to Sam and Tucker from their usual spot under the bleachers at lunch time. 

“Let me guess, the teachers do nothing?” Sam said with a sneer. 

“Absolutely nothing! I mean, seriously, he literally threw a paper calling me a slur and now I’ve gotta go see Mrs. Kelley later!” he complained. 

“What?!” Sam exclaimed. 

“Yeah! She made Danny read the paper to the class because she thought he was passing notes and then got mad at him when he did,” Tucker piped up, “Straight up said that she didn’t care who wrote it, just that Danny read it.” 

“That is bullshit,” she seethed. “Absolute bullshit! Why is he allowed to do whatever just because he’s on the football team?!” 

Danny snorted. “Because he’s the precious star quarterback? Lancer has said that he won’t write Dash up, especially during football season, because if he gets too many he can’t play in certain games.” 

Sam scoffed, slumping against the cool metal. “I hate this stupid ass place.” 

“Same,” the boys said in unison. 

Danny raised the second can of zesti to his lips, taking his first sip out of it. 

“Is that the one I gave you earlier?” Sam asked, picking at her salad. 

“Yeah, I saved it so I wouldn’t crash halfway through the day.” 

“Dude, you do this too often,” Tucker muttered. 

Danny snorted into the can. “Guilty,” he said, “But hey, how else am I supposed to stay awake during class?” 

“What time did you get in last night anyways?”  

Danny pursed his lips. “I have no idea. By the time I was done with the first aid, my alarm went off.” 

“Wait, how bad did you get hurt?” Sam asked. 

Danny pulled up the hoodie, showing off the patch job that had seeped through some. They both winced. He dropped the hem of the hoodie, “I also had a shit ton of scrapes on my arms this morning,” he rolled his eyes, bringing the can to his mouth once again, “I think they’re healed now, though,” he took a sip. 

“Damn, dude,” Tucker said before taking a bite of his burger. 

“I thought the scrape on my knee was gonna be a bitch to hide,” Sam muttered. 

Danny looked at her knees. Sure enough, below the two layers of fishnets (red on bottom, black on top), there was an angry, scabbed over scrape on Sam’s knee. “Why didn’t you say anything last night?” 

She shrugged. “Didn’t notice until I went home. I can’t even think of when I might’ve gotten it.” 

He shook his head. “You two, I swear,” he muttered. He yawned before leaning against Tucker. 

The other boy laughed before throwing his arm around his friend. Lunch continued like that, laughing and talking like they had all the time in the world. 

Surprisingly, the universe was merciful for once- no ghosts to take care of in the middle of class. Sure, Dash tormented him from the sidelines, but he was fairly used to that. 

When the final bell rang out, he made his way towards the geometry room, texting their group chat as he went. 

Ghost Boy 

Gotta stop by Mrs. Kelley’s before heading out. 

Please wait for me 

Psychologist in Training 

What did you do this time? 

The Pharaoh 

Not him this time 

Black Dahlia 

Dash again, Danny got in trouble, as usual 

Psychologist in Training 

Amazing. Need me to go over? 

Ghost Boy 

Nah, ill be fin. 

*fin 

Kill me 

The Pharaoh 

NB? 

Ghost Boy 

Hell yeah 

Be out soon (I hope) 

Danny put his phone away as he entered the room. He dumped the rest of the zesti into his mouth before throwing the can in the recycling box. 

Mrs. Kelley looked up at him before gesturing him to her desk. She slid a paper to him, “I want your mom to sign this.” 

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s this for?” 

“An incident report. Do you have any idea how many times you’ve been late? How many you’ve come in falling asleep at your desk while drinking an energy drink?” she asked, glaring at him. 

“No, ma’am,” he answered. 

“Too many,” she snapped. “You’re a bright boy,” she started, and Danny had already wanted to leave, “But you’ve been too distracted. You could easily make straight A’s in your classes, yet you’re pushing a high C. That’s unacceptable.” 

Danny frowned. “Isn’t a high C passing?” 

He caught sight of a familiar figure as she answered, “Yes, but you have the potential for so much more. Have your parents look over this,” she tapped the paper in his hand, “And please think about what I’ve said.” She followed his gaze out of the classroom, smile brightening as she recognized the “star student”.  

“Mr. Baxter! What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Dash smiled politely, “Oh, nothing, miss! I was just making sure Fenton was okay after that note in class.”  

Danny felt his eye twitch as Mrs. Kelley coo’ed over how “considerate” the blond was.  

“Seriously, miss, it’s no trouble!” he heard Dash say. “In fact, why don’t I walk you to the parking lot, Fenton? Wouldn’t want whoever wrote the note to show up to bother you again!” he said, the perfect picture of concern. 

He looked to the teacher, who nodded. He sighed, gritting his teeth, “Why yes, Dash! Why don’t we walk to the parking lot together!” 

Dash looked at Danny, surprised. He must’ve wanted to throw a fit when Danny said no. “Wonderful! Come, Fenton.”  

Feeling like a scolded dog, he reluctantly followed Dash out the door. They got to the end of the hallway before Dash grabbed the smaller boy by the shoulders and slammed him against the locker. “What was that?” he demanded. 

Winded, Danny wheezed a second before answering, “What was what, you psycho?!” 

“That!” Dash demanded, “’Yes, Dash, lets walk together’!” he mocked in a high-pitched tone, “You made me sound like a fa-” 

“Shut up!” Danny hissed, “If anything you made it sound like you’re gay for me! I’m the one out of the two of us who’s had a girlfriend so-”  

He got cut off with sharp metal digging harder into his back. 

“Listen up, Fenturd, and listen well, if I ever hear you say some shit like that again, I’ll-” 

Danny couldn’t help it. He cackled, unrestrained laughter echoing eerily in the hall. Dash scowled. 

“What’s funny, asshole?” 

Danny grinned. “Out of the two of us,” he started, managing to wiggle out of Dash’s laxed grip, “You’re the one with the power. You have everything,” he giggled. 

“Shut up-” 

“No, you shut up!” Danny yelled. “You’ve been fucking with me all day! All year! Fuck, all our lives!” he screamed, his voice shrill. 

Dash raised his fist. He snapped. 

Dash was stronger but Danny was faster, fist flying into Dash’s mouth. The hit landed, causing him to stumble back. 

Danny kicked him in the knee, fists flying towards his face, “I’m so fuCKING SICK OF YOU-” 

“ENOUGH!” a familiar voice rang out, grabbing Danny by his hood. Danny kicked out wildly, his foot landing on the side of Dash’s head as he desperately tried to scramble to his feet. 

It was so unfair.  

Five seconds. Not even five seconds to respond to Danny, resident twig, punching Dash, the star quarterback tank of a teen, yet Dash could beat Danny black and blue for fifteen minutes and nobody would bat an eye- 

“I HATE YOU!” he kept screaming. “I HOPE YOU DIE! YOU MAKE MY LIFE FUCKING MISERABLE-” 

Mr. Lancer dragged him into his classroom as Danny kept struggling in his grip, muttering out curses of “Oliver twist!” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream!” as he went. 

He finally wrangled the distraught teenager through the door, hurriedly closing it as sobs overruled Danny’s primal need to scream obscenities. 

He let his body collapse by Lancer’s desk, grabbing out his phone to press... anybody’s contact, really. He pressed buttons until something worked, the phone ringing twice before someone picked up, miraculously on speaker. 

“Dan-Danny? Are you crying, what’s going on?” Jazz’s voice asked from the phone. 

He opened his mouth just to cry harder. 

“Ms. Fenton, is that you?” Lancer asked. 

“I- yes? What’s going on, what’s wrong with Danny?” 

“Is that Mr. Lancer?” he heard Tucker ask in the background. 

“Yes, Mr. Foley. Danny’s in my room, if you all are still on campus, come to my room,” he glanced back at Danny, “It would seem your presence is needed.” 

“We’re on our way,” Jazz responded. “What happened?” 

Lancer pursed his lips. “I’m not at liberty to say, I’m afraid-” 

“PIETHE OF THIT!” the door opened with a bang. 

Lancer placed himself between Dash and Danny. The blond was holding his hand under his mouth, pouring blood. 

“What is-” 

“THAT PIETHE OF THIT KNOCKED OUT MY TOOTH!” he fumbled out, trying to get around the teacher. 

“Dash-” 

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, FENTON!” he yelled out. Two teachers shot in, trying to calm him down. 

“FUCK OFF, DASH, YOU FUCKING DESERVED IT!” the tears kept coming and the words were strained. 

“YOU TOOK OUT MY TOOTH!” he continued to lisp. 

“HOW YOU LIKE IT? HUH?! YOU PUT ME THROUGH THIS EVERY FUCKING DAY!” 

“Danny!” Jazz called, echoing through the phone before she hung up. She appeared in the doorway with Sam and Tucker in tow. 

Dash spun around, trying to get in Jazz’s face as one of the other teachers blocked his path. It didn’t stop him screaming out, “LOOK AT WHAT YOUR FUCKING BROTHER DID TO ME!” 

Jazz gawked at him as Sam and Tucker had to fight smiles and anxious laughter. Danny shot up, unsteady on his feet but still trying, “DON’T FUCKING YELL AT HER!” 

“ENOUGH, NOW!” Lancer yelled out, causing both boys to look at him immediately. “Dash,” he gritted out, “Leave. Now. Go to the nurse and try to find the tooth. You three-” he pointed to Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, who paused and had looked up from where he was currently crouched on the floor, “In here. Now, please.” 

Sam looked at Tucker, helping him stand as they filed into the room, staring unabashedly at Dash. He glared at them, following the other two teachers out. 

Jazz immediately went to fuss over Danny, checking him over. She grabbed his left hand, rubbing carefully at the split, bruising flesh. They were still bleeding. 

“What happened?” she asked softly. 

Danny sniffled, his tears slowing. He shrugged, collapsing into her arms. 

“Dude, did you seriously knock out his tooth?” Tucker asked. 

Danny nodded as Lancer interrupted, “Let’s not get into semantics, Mr. Foley. I called you three in here to calm him down, not to go over the gory details,” he scolded. 

“Sorry,” he replied, though he didn’t sound apologetic. 

“... I’m not surprised you snapped, though,” Sam admitted. 

Lancer raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question. Sam flushed a bit.  

“Dash has been messing with Danny all year, especially after the schedule changes,” she admitted. “We had to change our lunch spot so we could avoid him easier.” 

Lancer hummed in recognition. “I guess I’d better call your parents,” he indicated the Fenton siblings, “If they even answer,” he muttered under his breath as he went for his phone. 

With Lancer distracted, Tucker pressed something into Sam’s hand. She looked down at it before her eyes widened, looking back at him. He nodded. She opened the front pocket of her backpack, pulling out an old mint container and dropping something into it. 

The rest of the day was a blur. His parents arriving, his mom throwing a fit that his hand hadn’t been looked at yet, the principal's office. Dash’s parents arriving and threatening to sue before rushing him to urgent care. Dash’s dad calling back, screaming about how Dash is probably going to be pulled out of football the rest of the season. 

The car ride home was awkward. There was no Nasty Burger, just his dad’s livid face in the mirror as he drove them home. The lecture he got from his parents after was probably well-intentioned, but he had no interest in following it as his brain shut down. 

He barely made it to his bed before he collapsed, crying some more before he fell into a fitful sleep. It was just beginning to get dark when a cold mist pulled from his lungs and out of his mouth, waking him before he had the chance to really sleep. 

He sighed, transforming into Phantom. 

It didn’t matter if he felt like hot garbage, or had a breakdown, or anything close to that. Amity Park needed Phantom. 

He flew off into the night, shutting down his emotions as he went. He could deal with those another day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm excited to share this with everyone :) I've had a lot of fun drafting and writing and I can't wait to see what people think

[hoonieyun]

we can't be friends...

“we can’t be friends...”

pairing: johnny suh x reader “y/n”

genre: angst/toxic relationship

plot: your relationship with johnny is complicated, if the word relationship is even a word you could call what the two of you have. maybe it’s better if you two weren't in a relationship… or even friends.

warning: profanity and mentions of sex - MDNI 

notes: haven’t written something in a while and ariana grande’s new album has me in my feels TT - parts in italics are lyrics from ariana’s song “we can’t be friends” copyright goes to her and the writers of that song

word count: 2186

these days your carpet floor is a lot more comfortable than your own bed. your bed harbored so many memories and laying in it only intensified those memories running around in your head. you constantly thought about the good times with johnny; whenever he’d show up at your apartment in the middle of the night with your favorite takeout after a boy broke your heart, or when he’d pretend to be your boyfriend whenever some asshole at the club would get touchy. the good times were good, but the bad times were… terrible. 

you don’t know how you got here. everything was so normal a few days ago but suddenly it boiled over into the mess that it is now. imagine a time where you had everything you wanted, but you still weren’t happy. you and johnny have known each other for 6 years, since college, but it never went anywhere; although you hoped it would. 

the two of you tried dating during your senior year of college but it got so stressful that after 3 months you called it quits; deciding that being friends would be a lot better. the two of you occasionally would still sleep with each other, but you strictly kept it with no strings attached. which leaves you wondering; who caught feelings first and when?

me and my truth, we sit in silence

you’ve been on the floor for a few hours now. changing your position from laying on the floor near your bed to sitting up leaned against your nightstand. your neck was starting to ache but it didn’t compare to the splitting migraine you had. you rubbed your neck to your temples when you realized your throat hurt a bit. not sure if it was because you had been crying all night or because you haven’t spoken all day. scared that if you said something it would solidify the circumstance you found yourself in; afraid that you’d never recover from this. you didn’t know who to turn to, when you grabbed your phone to find someone to call, your fingers instinctively made its way to johnny’s contact in your phone “big bear” but you couldn’t bring yourself to press call or even send a text, just staring at the last message you sent, “we can’t be friends anymore”.

a part of you wants to blame johnny, that it’s all his fault for treating you the way he did. he always confused you. he’d take you out on fancy dates, tell you to dress pretty, and surprise you with a candlelight dinner; everything a loving boyfriend would do, but then he wouldn’t talk to you for a few days then he’d show up out of nowhere, drunk and talking about the girl he just fumbled and how he was never going to find someone to spend the rest of his life with.

it wasn’t always like this. you used to be best friends, something like from a movie, but the last few days it’s felt like the two of you were complete strangers. you toss your phone after staring at his contact and release a deep sigh. deciding to get up from your spot and find something productive to do. it took so much out of you to stand up, the floor had been your safe space and leaving it meant only to relive the trauma of last night. 

you walked out of your bedroom and made your way to the living room, spotting the broken picture frame at the end of the hallway. you bent down to pick up the pieces of glass but got distracted at the photo. it was a photo of you and johnny at your sister’s wedding. he stepped up as your date when you found out your ex boyfriend wasn’t actually abroad studying medicine but was taking care of his wife and child you knew nothing about. the memory brought a smile to your face because you remember walking out of your apartment, trying to suck in all of your tears, when you saw johnny. there he stood in a suit and tie, he’d never looked so good and all you did was run into his arms and continue crying. he held you and in the moment nothing mattered or existed besides the two of you. 

you placed all of the broken shards of glass into the trash and left the photo on your coffee table. it didn’t feel real, there was a hole in your wall next to the front door, a glass of wine spilt on the carpet, and the memories of last night flooding in even harder than before. 

-last night- 

i didn’t think you’d understand me

“are you fucking kidding me, y/n?” johnny yelled from outside your front door. he had been out there for 10 minutes, trying to get you to open the door after you sent him that text message. 

“just go home johnny, it’s almost 1am!” you yelled back but all it did was make him slam his fist into the door. “go home-” you were in the middle of your sentence when he yells back “open the fucking door!”. a part of you knew that you shouldn’t, you knew that opening the door would only cause more problems, and that opening the door would be the end of everything you loved with johnny. *click* and the door swung open to a drunken johnny, leaning his head on his arm over your doorframe. he slowly looks up at you, making eye contact. “what?” he asks. you scoff at him and turn around, “all that bullshit and all you have to say is what?” he follows you into your living room, lazily shutting the front door. 

“come on, don’t be like this.” he says, almost begging. “like what?” you respond, knowing that his next words would only anger you further. “like this! emotional but never using your words! you expect too much out of me, how am i supposed to know what you want!” he yells. you stare at him, johnny’s chest rising up and down, faster with each breath as if he ran here. “you know what your problem is johnny?” you question him. “you don’t know how to take accountability for when you fuck up. and all you do is fuck up!” you start walking towards, pointing your finger up towards his face. 

“you want me to communicate better? well here! you’re an asshole! i hate when you act like you know everything, especially about me, because guess what! you don’t know shit!” your voice was now higher than it should, not a care in your mind if you wake any of your neighbors. your face is inches closer to johnny’s, close enough to feel his breath. you pressed your finger into his chest with every word, backing him up against the wall. “you don’t care about me, you care about having me around so that i’m there for you whenever you need someon-” 

“what the hell are you talking about? of course i care about you!” he cuts you off. “if i didn't care about you would i be here right now?” he questions you. “you’re only here because you know you fucked up not because you care about me. you care that i’m angry at you not because you care about my feelings but because you can’t stand to know that you’re the reason i’m upset and you don’t even know why. you never know why because you’ll do whatever it takes to change my mind, you’ll kiss me, get in my pants, buy me gifts, just so that i won’t be angry at you anymore but you never apologize and you never know what you did. so don’t ever, for a second think, that you care about me. you may have cared about me then but you don’t now. and you haven’t for a while.” tears were pouring down your face, throat sore from yelling, and all johnny could do was look at you. look down at you. 

the two of you stand in silence for a few moments before johnny grabs your face and brings you into a kiss. flipping the two of you over so that your back was against the wall. you push him off of you, johnny almost tripping over the coffee table; knocking over your glass of wine. “i don’t get it, we used to be best friends. we did everything together” johnny finally speaks. 

“how did we get here? why did you have to text me that? i thought we agreed no strings attached?” you sloppily wipe the tears off your face, mascara smearing, and after a deep breath, you respond. “you don’t treat a “friend” the way you treat me. you’ve said it yourself in the past.” and the memory of that night replays in both of your heads. 

the night of your sister’s wedding, at the reception, the two of you were outside in the garden watching the stars. “you know i could probably be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, i already treat you way better than those dickheads and i’m only your best friend” he says and it makes you question what the two of you are. you chuckle, “yeah right, we tried that and we were both too stupid to understand each other outside of our favorite alcohol and sex.” you playfully slap his chest. you were going to look into his eyes when a shooting start catches your eye, “look!” you point towards it. you slap his chest a couple more times excitedly, “make a wish!”. you close your eyes and clasp your hands closed together, like a child making a wish on their birthday before blowing out the candles. 

what you didn’t see was that before you essentially rejected his subtle offer to date again, he was looking at you instead of the stars in the sky. now he watches you fondly from behind, smiling and admiring your eagerness to make a wish on the shooting star. you begin to turn around and he quickly shuts his eyes to make it seem like he was wishing upon a star the whole time. you skip towards him and wrap your arms under his, “so what’d you wish for?” you ask. johnny scoffs, “like i’d ever tell you, then it won’t come true” he says while playfully rolling his eyes. 

it may seem like he didn’t make a wish in that short time but he wished that the two of you would end up together, spend the rest of your lives together, and grow old together. unfortunately, for johnny, he should’ve known better to wish upon a star. 

the memory of that night, under the stars, leaves you in tears again. johnny explains that he’s always wished the two of you ended up together, that even if he said jokingly, he meant it wholeheartedly, but if only you knew that. 

“i can’t do this anymore.” johnny breaks the silence. you look up at him and he’s walking towards you. “tell me now, what do you want to do? i know you love me y/n and you know i love you, but if this is going to happen between us we need to…” you cut him off. “no…” your back pressed up against the wall again, noses touching in your close proximity. “we can’t be friends… not when the two of us are like this.” you respond. you feel johnny’s warm breath leave his mouth and for a moment everything was silent and there was a ringing in your ear. only to realize johnny had punched a hole in the wall right beside your head. tears begin to spill out of your eyes, almost uncontrollably. you slide down the wall and hug yourself, at this point your bawling your eyes out. johnny releases his hand from the cavity in the wall he created. 

without saying anything… he leaves. 

you spend a few more minutes crying before you get up to continue crying in your room. you pass the framed photo of the two of you in the hallway, hastily grabbing it off the wall, sending it crashing behind you into the dark hallway. almost like saying goodbye to the idea of you two.

-present-

your eyes have become glassy, after recalling the moments of last night. you're shaken out of your thoughts when your phone rings. a short one, indicating it’s a text. dreading to know who it may be from, you make your way back to your room. reaching under your bed to grab your phone after you threw it under there. 

a text from “big bear” shines bright on your phone: i’ll wait for your love. 

if he had sent that text a day earlier he wouldn’t even have to wait for your love, you were ready to give it to him and only him. but after the events of the last few days, maybe the only person you should be giving your love to is yourself.

so for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all i need… 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun fka jjhyn all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[hettiesworld]

I'm Just Ken

Name of fic: I’m Just Ken

Pairing: Jeremy Renner x female reader

Plot summary: After Jeremy and Ava went to watch Barbie, and you get back from grocery shopping, you hear a certain song blasting on Jeremy’s playlist once you get back home…

Word count: 688 words

Warnings: Fluff, just fluff. Author’s note: I watched Barbie at the cinema and I absolutely loved it! I feel like Ava would drag Jeremy along to watch Barbie with her, and I stand by that. Also Jeremy is definitely a Ken, and I would think he would play Ken if it didn’t go to Ryan 😂 So enjoy this short drabble I just wrote!

As you get back home from a busy day of grocery shopping, you closed the door to the house you share with your boyfriend, Jeremy and his daughter Ava. You tried to carry two full bags through the front door as you call out to the two of them. “Hey! I’m back!” You heard Ava run from her room towards the front door as she went up to you, helping you with the shopping, taking the lighter bag out of the two for you. “Thank you Ava. Now, where’s your dad?” You ask him, as Ava smiled and pointed at his music studio.

You nodded back, thanking her before you both made your way to the kitchen. “How was Barbie, Ava?” You continued to ask her, you didn’t go with her as you already seen it with your best friend y/bf/n, so Ava dragged Jeremy to go and see it instead. “It was amazing! Daddy got me a Barbie and Ken doll afterwards! Can you play with me later?” Ava excitingly said to you, slightly jumping up and down.

“Of course, you go up to your room and prepare our playdate whilst I’ll go and surprise your dad, okay?” Ava nodded again as she rushed back to her room to get the dolls. In the meantime, putting away everything only took a few minutes, and that gave you time to check in on Jeremy. You knew he was currently making music because of two reasons: the first one being obvious as in his accident earlier that year, and the other reason being the writer strikes going on right now. You slowly walk towards the music studio, and your ears pricked up like a dog as you heard a familiar song going on behind the door. Is that…? You quietly opened the door and the song became more clearer as ‘I’m Just Ken’ by Ryan Gosling – that was in the Barbie movie – was playing through Jeremy’s speakers. And he was singing along to it. ‘Did this mean that he liked the movie then?’ You thought to yourself as you sneaked up behind him. You have always adored his singing voice, even before your relationship with him and you made that clear on your first date. 'Cause I'm just Ken

Anywhere else I'd be a ten

Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?

“Hey Ken!” You teased him as you tapped him on the shoulder, which made him jump slightly and turned around to face you. “Oh my God Y/n! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He retorted at you, sighing with relief to find out it was you who sneaked up on him. You just laughed.

“I just got back from shopping and Ava told me you would be in here.” You explained to him as you noticed that he was wearing some Barbie merch, more specifically the ‘I’m Just Kenough’ shirt that Ryan Gosling wore in the movie. “Did you enjoy the movie then?” You asked him, trying not to laugh as you snigger to yourself. “I did actually.” Jeremy said proudly.

“Y’know… you could’ve been in that movie as Ken. I mean, you’ve got a good enough singing voice.” You suggested to him with a smile. “Yes, but Ryan is more attractive than me…” You snigger as you playfully push him. “That is not true, you know that! Would you do it though, if Scarlett was Barbie?” You ask him with a slight smirk on your face. Jeremy smirked back as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer towards him. “I would’ve done it either way.” He simply said, just before kissing you softly on the lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were only slightly shorter than Jeremy, so you had to get on your tip-toes to kiss him.

"You're my Barbie, y'know that right?" Jeremy said to you, with a smile on his face.

"Yeah I know that..." You laugh at him, a smile on your face as well and both of your foreheads together. "And you're my Ken."

[callsign-bunnie]

"Let’s play a game.”

Trying out some new formatting, am I using this as an excuse to use it? Maybe.

Rodolfo and Gaz are both captured during a mission and the kidnapper decides to play a game. While he gets set up, Rodolfo and Gaz decide to get to know each other better. 

Ships: Gazalex (mentioned), Aledolfo (mentioned)

TW: main character death

--

Gaz blinked as the bag was pulled off his head. It was a dingy room, one he didn’t recognize. Which made sense, he’d be concerned if he did recognize it. He was still in Las Almas and he’d never been anywhere out here so... this made sense.

Even still, he didn’t like not being familiar with his surroundings.

He took in what he could while his kidnapper was preoccupied with a tray nearby. There was always a moving cart or a tray nearby. 

He was sitting down, tied in a chair. He felt warmth at his back, the person smaller than him since he could feel their head fall back against his neck. There was only one real option that it could be. “Rodolfo?” He asked, carefully, keeping his voice low.

“Sh... Keep your voice low...” Rodolfo replied back, shifting a little.

Gaz nodded and went quiet, watching whoever had them move around and arrange things. He felt stupid. It’d been so clear that going into that warehouse would lead to an ambush but he and Rodolfo had needed to clear it for the mission.

They had came back shortly after Hassan to help with the arrest of El Sin Nombre and to hang low while they figured out how to take down General Shepherd. As such, they’d gone on a few missions here and there.

The Los Vaqueros primarily did drug raids, it seemed. That’s what they’d been on this time. A simple drug raid. Rodolfo and Gaz had split off from Price and Alejandro, who they’d been on the mission with, in order to cover more ground. They’d went into a small warehouse where they’d seen a few drug runners run into.

But, as they’d went in, they’d been ambushed immediately and knocked out. God, Gaz felt so stupid for falling for it, too.

“You-” The kidnapper stood in front of him, suddenly. “Do you speak English?”

“Yes.” Gaz knew better than to lie or get contrarian with the kidnappers. Even if it’s horrible, you work with them. They will get bored and either abandon you or kill you. In certain cases, both are desirable.

The kidnapper nodded. “We recognize the other. Rodolfo Parra. What a gem to have fallen into our hands.”

“Alejandro will not forgive this.” Rodolfo sounded exhausted and leaned his head back against Gaz’s neck, gently. Gaz put his head back against Rodolfo’s, closing his eyes. 

The kidnapper laughed. “Oh I count on it. We’ll kill him as well. El Sin Nombre will be so proud. Regardless, El Sin Nombre only wants one of you to die, the other is allowed to go free.”

Gaz tried to hide his frown and he felt Rodolfo tense behind him. El Sin Nombre was still being held, there was no way Valeria had given the order. Actually, she’d been nothing but pleasant to Gaz. Valeria, Rodolfo, and Alejandro sometimes treated him like he was a kid but not necessarily like he was useless. He just noticed they were gentler, softer, they were kinder.

Rodolfo was like that in general but he was bit more personal with Gaz. However, Gaz had watched Alejandro bark orders to the Vaqueros and then turn around and gently ask Gaz to do the same thing. He had to admit, it was endearing. They felt like older siblings from movies, not necessarily real older siblings.

“I need to go talk to the boss.” The kidnapper finally said. “When I get back, you both will choose one of you to die.”

Gaz frowned deeply. He didn’t like that. They left. Barely did anything else, just left. He took a deep breath. “Rodolfo?”

“Yes?” Rodolfo was quiet, he still sounded exhausted. 

“Pick me.” Gaz didn’t mind dying. He wasn’t that important to anyone but Price and... Alex. But, he thought Alex would understand.

“Don’t be stupid, hermano.” Rodolfo’s voice had a smile in it. “Lets not discuss this right now. There’s no point.”

“Okay...” Gaz frowned deeply but he wouldn’t argue with Rodolfo. Apparently Rodolfo had been kidnapped many times, apparently, so he trusted that Rodolfo knew what he was doing. Gaz had been kidnapped a few times but... he generally tried to stay un-kidnapped.

Rodolfo sighed. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusive question but I... I saw a ring on your finger.”

“Oh, it’s not intrusive.” Gaz smiled. He didn’t mind talking about his fiancé, he loved Alex. “Yes, I’m engaged... We were going to get fully married when this all blew over.”

Rodolfo nodded. “Were you going to have a ceremony, or?”

“Yes. Alex is insistent. He wants to have at least a small one.” Gaz thought about the plans Alex had made once he’d revealed himself as alive. They’d planned to have a small ceremony, just a quick one with all of their family members and friends. Which weren’t many, admittedly. Well, Gaz planned to invite Soap and Ghost, and Rodolfo and Alejandro now. 

Rodolfo nodded again, probably only doing that so Gaz had a physical response. “Tell me about it, hermano.”

Gaz frowned before shrugging. “We just wanted a small one. We found a wedding package that would set the whole thing up for us for fairly cheap, though both of us could have afforded a big one if we wanted. The colors were gold and blue, apparently. Midnight blue. Alex loved it.”

“Alex is your fiancé, yes?”

“Yes. He and I met on a mission. We kept our relationship quiet for a while but... we thought he died and after he came back, neither of us thought keeping it quiet was so important anymore.” Gaz flushed and sighed, smiling softly. “So... we told everyone.”

“Tell me about him.” Rodolfo murmured and Gaz could again hear a smile in his voice. He hadn’t seen Rodolfo smile that much, but even still, he could pull it to memory. It was a fairly distinct smile, maybe because it was so rare.

“He’s... amazing. He’s strong and he’s so smart. He... has this way of moving when he talks that’s just... You should meet him. I think you’d like him. He’s a lot like Alejandro just... a bit more serious. Not as playful. I’m not either, though, so I think it evens out.” Gaz shrugged and closed his eyes, thinking about Alex. “You and Alejandro are married, right?”

“We are. We’ve been married for close to... three years now.”

“What is it like? Was it terrifying?”

“Oh, absolutely. Alejandro wanted a big ceremony and getting married like that was... so scary. I don’t generally like getting up in front of people but... I’d do it again. Happiest day of my life. It was wonderful...”

Gaz could hear the wistfullness in Rodolfo’s voice. “Any um... advice? You two seem generally happy.”

“You’re going to have bad days.” Rodolfo shrugged. “You’re going to have days where you hate each other and you’re going to consider divorce. Accept that early on and it gets easier. I think some couples... get divorced on their first thought of it because the fact they consider it is so shocking to them that they think they have to but... you don’t. And... consider marriage counselling. Even before your first problem, just consider marriage counselling. It helps. A lot.”

Gaz accepted that advice. Even if he wasn’t sure he’d be leaving this. “How long were you and Alejandro together before you got married?”

“Two years.” Rodolfo nodded. “We were engaged for half of it. We’ve been friends since we were young children and... we both just sort of knew when we wanted to get married. We had a... complicated relationship before that, anyway.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“We were... how do you say it in English...  friends with benefits?, mostly. It was Alejandro’s idea. We were both in love with the other and willing to take whatever we could get but neither of us really could accept the idea that the other was in love, too.” Rodolfo leaned his head back on Gaz’s shoulder and Gaz moved his head so he could. “I was so insecure. So much more emotional than I am, now.”

“That sounds like a shit situation.” Gaz couldn’t imagine. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle an only fuck buddies situation. That sounded like shit. “How did you guys get together from that?”

“Valeria. She shot me off a roof and it sort of set off a domino reaction. Is that the phrase?”

“Sounds like it, yeah.” Gaz laughed. “I think chain reaction is fine, too.”

“Thank you. Yeah, she tried to break us up, ironically, but... it ended up pushing us together.”

“But you two are happy now?” Gaz asked, softly. 

“Completely.” Rodolfo nodded. “We would be lost without the other.”

“Pick me.” Gaz sighed. “You are so important to Los Vaqueros, Rodolfo. Alejandro needs you, the Vaqueros need you. Even Valeria as... much as she’d probably deny it, it’s clear she cares about you.”

“Price needs you, hermano.”

“Price has lost men before. He’ll move on.” Gaz shrugged. “He’ll understand.”

“Your fiance needs you. You have a wedding to go to.” 

“He’ll understand as well. You are much more important than me.” Gaz pleaded. He knew Rodolfo needed to walk away from this. He didn’t know Alejandro that well, but even he knew now that Alejandro would be tearing apart Las Almas looking for Rodolfo.

Alex would understand if Gaz didn’t come back from a mission. That was a risk every mission. That was their life. This one, especially, it was not guaranteed Gaz would be coming home. “Rodolfo, pick me.”

Rodolfo sighed and was quiet for a moment. “Alright. I will. I’m... sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve made my peace with it.” Gaz shook his head. He had. He made his peace on every mission that he may not walk away from this one. He tried, certainly, but he did his best to keep this in the back of his mind. 

Rodolfo was quiet again. The kidnapper came back in, Gaz could hear him behind him. “So, have you chosen?”

“Yes.” Gaz spoke up before Rodolfo could. “We have.”

“We know this may be difficult of a decision so... We’re going to give you a system. Sadly, as I said, one of you two must die. Orders are orders.”

Gaz rolled his eyes. He just wanted to get this over with. Rodolfo needed to get back as soon as possible. “Can’t we just say who?”

“No. I like games. This game is easy. You have enough room in your binds to lift your hands. You will hold up one finger or two fingers. If both of you hold up one finger, I will shoot the Brit. You are British, correct?”

“Yes.” Gaz grit out, glaring at him. 

“Wonderful.” The kidnapper smiled. “If one of you holds up two fingers and the other holds up one, then I will shoot Rodolfo. And if both of you hold up two fingers, then I get to choose.”

“Luiz, why are you doing this? We both know this is not on El Sin Nombre’s orders.” Gaz frowned when he heard Rodolfo speak. He knew him?

Luiz’s face dropped and he rounded to Rodolfo’s side. Gaz heard a smacking noise and he flinched. “You do not know of what you speak.”

Rodolfo was silent and Gaz squeezed his eyes shut. He took deep breaths, again just wanting this to be over with. Rodolfo silenced and Gaz felt him take a deep breath. “You are right, Luiz. I don’t.”

“You don’t.” Luiz confirmed and then came back around. “Well? Make your choice.”

Gaz held up one finger. He had no intention of pulling the wool over Rodolfo’s eyes. Rodolfo needed to go home, not Gaz. Rodolfo was needed and yeah, it would crush Alex and Gaz hated that he was doing that to him but... Two people compared to all of the Los Vaqueros? It was obvious who was more needed.

Luiz didn’t comment on it, like Gaz expected, and instead went around behind him. “Make your choice.” He told Rodolfo.

Gaz took a deep breath when Luiz hummed and chuckled. “How unfortunate.” Was all he said. Gaz rolled his eyes. He was the one doing it. He watched Luiz go to the tray from before and pick up a gun.

“Gaz?” Rodolfo spoke softly

“Yes?” Gaz frowned, unsure why he was talking again.

“Would I have been invited to your wedding?”

“Of course. You and Alejandro both.” Gaz didn’t have any doubts about it. They had became friends. He knew Alex would like them. 

“Thank you... Tell my husband I love him, please. Tell him I’m sorry but... He’ll understand. I know he will.”

Gaz’s heart sank. “Rodolfo- Rodolfo what did you do?!”

“You have your entire life ahead of you. Granted, I’m only 32 but... That’s more than 26. I’ve had my wedding. You deserve to get to go to yours.”

Gaz shook his head. “No, no-” His voice grew frantic and he tried to think of some way to undo this. “Rodolfo, please, don’t make me tell Alejandro that you’re dead. Rodolfo- Rodolfo please.” He pleaded, his eyes filling with tears.

“Sh... It’ll be okay, I promise.” Rodolfo’s voice was clearly trying to be soothing but Gaz couldn’t accept that. “I’m sorry I won’t be at your wedding, Gaz. It sounds like it would be wonderful.”

Gaz yanked at the binds as best as he could, trying so desperately hard to do something. “We had an agreement! You said you would choose me!”

Luiz laughed. “Oh Rodolfo, so self sacrificial. Poor Alejandro.” He went behind Gaz and Gaz squeezed his eyes shut, yanking hard at his binds again.

“I don’t regret my decision, Gaz. You deserve to live.” Rodolfo’s voice was calm. There were no tears. Just... resignation. 

Gaz knew he couldn’t plead anymore, but he wanted to try. He wanted to beg Luiz to shoot him instead, because Rodolfo needed to go home. Rodolfo needed to go back. 

But it was done. Gaz took a deep breath.

He waited. 

Then, he heard the gun shot. Rodolfo jerking behind him and then his body separating from Gaz’s as he likely slumped over. 

Gaz imagined what the next twenty four hours would look like. Him going to Alejandro and having to explain what happened. He’d have to tell him that he tried so hard to make Rodolfo choose him but Rodolfo hadn’t, he’d chosen himself.

He’d have to look him in the eyes and apologize for being alive and he’d mean it too. Because how do you explain to someone that their husband is dead because you aren’t?

Luiz came around to the front of Gaz and chuckled. “I guess you get to go free.”

“You’re a bastard.” Gaz told him, finally opening his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe.” Luiz shrugged and then he hit Gaz over the head. 

The last though Gaz had as he was knocked out was, I’m sorry. But he wasn’t even sure exactly what he was sorry for.

--

I do have a sequel if anyone wants it.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Dear Miss Madisyn May,

I don't know if I totally understand how Gala's work, and when I don't understand something I usually hesitate and lurk around, but I've been following your's and worked up the nerve to send you a message. I first found Pink Scarf on A03, and it is something I go back and reread when I want cheering up or inspiration. Like so many I was immediately captivated by your writing and I love your newest fic Broken Glass and also the epilogues/one-shots/shorts you've written. I'm relatively new to active fandom, I have been a lurker for the last few years reading here and there, I feel like I came to fic late in life (32-33ish) and only just started writing it last fall. It has become one of my favorite pastimes and I wish I had found it sooner, but oh well.

I was wondering if you would be willing to share your own process for how you map out where your stories will go and how you work out plots, or find inspiration and work through writer's block, and/or honestly any advice you'd give someone starting out writing fic.

cheers,

norah

A little black-tie a little black-tie E and Frank ready for your Gala...

Dear Lil’ Miss Darlin’ Norah,

Firstly, I’m sorry this took me a million trillion years to respond to!! This is the sweetest and loveliest, and thank you for coming by to share and ask such a great question!! 💜 I, too, came to fic late(ish) and was also most definitely a lurker, so I can very much relate.

Oooh, boy, my writing process is a bit of a mess, honestly. I wish I could say that I was a super outliner/organized writer, but that’s just not who I am, and I think trying to be that writer got in my way for a very long time. I find that I get stifled if I’m outlining really specifically because my brain tries to lock everything in even if the story needs to go in another direction. So for me, I take more of an organic approach.

I tend to think in scenes or beats that I want to hit instead. Often, my ideas start from daydreams, so it’ll begin with a “scene” that I then want to build a story around. Sometimes that scene is really clear but may not happen for many chapters into a fic, so I have to figure out how I actually get my characters there. But giving myself time to daydream is one of the most important things to me as a writer. Usually when I’m having trouble figuring out a scene or arc or pushing through the writing, it’s often because I literally haven’t closed my eyes and laid down and let it play out in my head.

And inspiration can come from almost anywhere! Writing Elvis in particular, I’m heavily inspired by historical events and personal anecdotes. I love weaving real moments into my E fics!! There are honestly too many to count for PS.

For Broken Glass, Dolores came to me first as a character and I was like, “hmmm, that’s interesting,” and I am super fascinated by E’s health journey, so I was like, how do I put those together?

Songs are also often big sources of inspiration, like with Power of My Love and Without Love for PS. I try to consume a lot of media too, which gets my brain going—what I mean by that is the more I’m reading books and fics and watching shows/movies and listening to music, the more goes in my brain bank, so to speak.

I am by no means an expert, or even a professional writer (yet!), so this is just part of my process which (usually) works for me. Take of that what you will, but of course every writer is different and there is no one “right” way. I definitely struggle with perfectionism, and that tends to be my biggest source of “blocks” or frustration. So I’ve found that I just need to write. Practice. Get something on the page, even if it sucks lol! Cuz I’m always gonna go back and revise and tweak it anyway.

Anyway, I hope that’s helpful! Thank you so much for supporting my little stories and wishing you all the best in your writing adventures! 💜 Feel free to drop in my DMs if you have other questions or tag me in your works!

And I looooove me some black tie E and Frank!! To have been in that room…phew! 🥰😏🤩

💗 Madi

[riaaanna]

London - 13 Nov 2022

As a continuation of this post here are pictures from my visit to London last month! I dropped by some Queen-related places, it was a long list and impossible to get to in only 1-2 days. I'm also horrendous at schedule management so I missed places that were actually close to each other, welp.

But anyway! Here are the places I got to visit that day. You can click to see the full pictures. Please do not repost my photos!

Garden Lodge was the first stop! I think this place needs no explanation. Lovely place during a lovely weather. I had the area for myself for about 15 mins before a few other fans came along as well to take pictures.

The next stop was 12 Stafford Terrace in Kensington. This was supposedly Freddie's first flat in London, and it is the location of many familiar photos including this one above I attached. It was a really nice place, not that we question it but Freddie had an excellent taste.

Afterwards I had to rush off and barely caught what used to be the location of Kensington Market. Here's a video I took from the bus lol. The market was sadly already demolished and is now a Currys. If I get to go there again I'll take a proper photo of the entire area!

From Kensington I went to Soho and visited 143 Wardour Street. This address was where they took this well-known photo above (Watal Asanuma)! This area is where I should have visited the original Marquee site as well as Trident studios, but I messed up the day's schedule that I didn't get them. Next time for sure!

On my way back from lunch in Soho I went to Carnaby Street where they have the lyrics of Bohemian Rhapsody (I didn't think they were still there!). They were put up there to celebrate the launch of the movie in 2018. I bet they look a lot nicer at night but I was there in the afternoon so this is what I got.

Next up is Royal Albert Hall. This was very annoying because there was a huge tent set up that ruined the scenery and again thanks to my bad scheduling management this was the last day I could go anywhere. So I couldn't stand on the exact steps that Smile stood on in this photo (Douglas Puddifoot) without the tent in view, but oh well. I tried my best!

Just around there I went to see the plaque for PRS for Music Heritage award, which commemorates Queen's first public performance in London at Imperial College. Also got a video of where exactly it is. It was originally unveiled in a different place (as shown in photo) but after about a month it was then moved outside for better visibility.

While around Imperial College I looked for this specific site where Queen took this picture when they were still with Mike Grose. It was fun searching for it (it was quite hidden imo) and I felt really triumphant once I found it! There were several compartments (?) but I just picked one that I think is the same one lol.

Genuinely tried my best to keep up with the sun but it set so quickly so I dropped by whatever was on the way back to my hotel. This building at 54 Russell Gardens was formerly Kensington Tavern. This was apparently where Freddie first met Ibex and Roger met John Harris. Pretty iconic! It's a shame that it was closed down.

And from there I finally went to 100 Holland Road, which was also a flat where Freddie once lived in. Firstly, I regret not taking this when there was still sunlight because it didn't look as pretty as it I hoped it would. Secondly, scaffoldings... ugh. Just my luck. Well here's a photo of when it looked nice, hope I can get a shot of it like that next time. This flat is also where this iconic photoshoot (Douglas Puddifoot) took place.

Lastly, below are some bonus of tourist-y photos I took the day before haha. It was a cloudy night but the lights were so pretty!

And that's all for this part of London visit! Again I know I missed a lot of obvious places in literally the same areas that I visited, but with the combo of my bad route planning and the fact that there are just so many historical places in London related to the band, it was obvious that it's going to require several dedicated visits to eventually get to all of them, if I really want to.

My sincerest thanks to Ribbit London who made me a custom map for my visit, put up with my whining about tents and scaffoldings, and always responded so quickly when I get lost pretty much every other turn looking for a specific landmark lol. I couldn't have made it without you!

I will be visiting London several more times for sure, and I hope to be able to get to as many Queen-related sites next time!

[lucy90712]

New Years headcannon

Fabio Quartararo:

A few friends are hosting a party for New Years so you decide to go as otherwise you would just go elsewhere or stay in. Parties aren't usually your thing but Fabio was excited and you knew he would be with you the whole night so you were ok with going. Going out means dressing up and of course Fabio wants to help decide your outfit so you let him pick your dress as you do your hair and makeup. He actually picks a nice dress and you only had to add a jacket so you don't freeze which you also let him pick as why not. Of course Fabio loves what he picks for you to wear so until you leave he is just staring at you and taking pictures of you which aren't going to be posted anywhere they are just for him to look at. You did take some pictures together in the mirror which he posted but after that both of your put your phones away for the night.

At the party there is a lot of people which you expected but there was more than you thought there would be. Walking in Fabio had a tight grip on your hand and makes sure you are with him wherever you go. Loads of your friends are there so together you go around talking to them all and catching up as some you haven't seen in a while as you both have been so busy. For once you actually let loose and enjoy yourself which means having a few drinks and not worrying about every little thing which meant you actually really enjoyed the evening. Fabio doesn't drink so he can drive you both home and keeps an eye on you but he mostly just lets you have fun as he has more fun seeing you happy than he would drinking. You get a little bit drunk not enough to not remember the night but enough that you have a new level of confidence. With this new confidence you pull Fabio to dance with you and you end up dancing together for a good while until its time for the countdown. As the countdown hits zero Fabio pulls you in and gives you a sweet kiss.

Marc Marquez:

Both of you had just got off a long flight and had been awake over 24 hours already so you were both incredibly tired but you really wanted to see the new year in together as you have done it since you started dating and wanted to keep the tradition. To keep your minds active and somewhat awake you play video games together although neither of you were as good as you normally are and there was some staring blankly at the tv for a few minutes before you both came back to reality. Instead of games you then try other things to keep you awake like dancing to music, standing outside in the cold and running around the house none of which were particularly useful. By this point you were both so sleep deprived that any little thing sent you into fits of laughter so of course when Marc tripped over the leg of the sofa both of you were on the floor laughing for ages which definitely wasted some time.

Eventually you both gave in and had some coffee even though you wanted to sleep right after midnight you just weren't going to make it to midnight of you didn't have some caffeine. After coffee Marc felt alive but you didn't really feel any different but you tried to push through anyway. The biggest mistake was putting on a movie to kill the rest of the time as that made you feel even more tired to the point that you just couldn't keep your eyes open anymore no matter how hard you fought. You of course fell asleep pretty much as soon as you closed your eyes which didn't go unnoticed by Marc who simply pulled you on top of him and cuddled you knowing you really needed some sleep after a long few days. He watched the movie and then turned on the countdown even though it was just him watching it. To celebrate the new year he took a picture of the two of you and posted it to his Instagram as most years you take a picture together but this years was just slightly different.

Alex Marquez:

After a hectic Christmas and year in general you and Alex decided that instead of going out you just want to spend New Years in your house together just the two of you. You didn't make any plans so when you woke up you just laid in bed together not really saying anything just laying and cuddling together until you were both really hungry and needed to have some breakfast. Alex made breakfast for the both of you which he brought back upstairs so you can eat it in bed. When you both eventually get out of bed you pretty much just move straight to the sofa and turn on a movie. All day you have a movie marathon watching film after film until you decide to go out for a short walk but after that you continue watching movies for the rest of the day.

When the sun sets you and Alex get up to make some dinner together as during the day the one thing you decided to do was cook a homemade meal together. You decide to make pasta which you have done a few times and you had all the ingredients. The two of you worked together with one measuring out ingredients while the other mixed them together until the pasta dough was done and you could cut it to how you wanted it. Once the pasta was done Alex started to make the sauce as he is better at that than you but you still stood there and helped him if he needed it. He got you to test the sauce a few times until it was perfect and so when the pasta is done you get it all plated up. Even though it was dark outside you turned the little lights you have on the patio on and set up the table outside so you could eat under the stars. It was so peaceful outside that after dinner you both stayed sat out there on the seating you have out there until you heard fireworks which indicated that it was midnight which is when Alex pressed a kiss to you forehead and held you tight.

Pecco Bagnaia:

There was a little firework display happening not too far from where you live that a few friends were going to do both of you decided to go as well. Seeing as there was a group of you going everyone decided to get together for dinner first which you were happy join in on as it meant you didn't have to cook. It did mean that you had to pack warm clothes and stuff in Pecco's car ready to be sat outside for a while. The dinner was was at a restaurant that you and Pecco have never been to before so even though it was close so you were both looking forward to checking it out to see if it's somewhere you could go for date nights in the future. You met everyone there and had a really nice time having a meal all together as most of the time you don't all see one another at once.

After finishing dinner you and Pecco put on many layers like extra pairs of socks and leggings under your jeans before putting on a warmer coat as well as gloves, hat and scarf as it was supposed to be very cold out. When eventually you had enough layers on Pecco drove to the place where the firework display was and you set up little camping chairs for you both to sit on which you didn't even know you owned but apparently you did. Despite all the layers you had you were still freezing cold as soon as you sat down which you tried to hide as you didn't want to be annoying but eventually your shivers were too much to hide. When Pecco noticed how cold you are he makes you come sit on his lap so that his body heat helps warm you up. Even once you warm up he keeps you there even as you talk to friends or while drinking hot chocolate. When the fireworks started Pecco put an arm around you and you watched the colours explode into the sky together until they stopped and the new year began. You stayed for a bit longer before heading back to the car which is when Pecco gives you a kiss and you say happy new year to each other.

Jorge Martin:

On a whim you guys decide to go to New York after Christmas for new year. Some of the decision had to do with you needing to be there after New Years for some work so Jorge suggested that you go out early and spend some time together before you had to work. Both of you had also always wanted to got to New York for either Christmas or New Years so that also influenced your decision in randomly deciding to book flights and a hotel room. It was a long flight but you either slept or watched films together which made the time go by quite quickly. The airport killed your calm though as it was so busy but Jorge kept a tight grip on your hand and you managed to make it through together and reach the outside which was still busy but the fresh air made it feel less claustrophobic. Eventually you managed to get a taxi to your hotel and because it was late you both just crashed on the bed straight away.

The next day was New Year's Eve but you still wanted to do something together and you hadn't been to New York before so you guys wanted to do some of the typical touristy things. You walked around together looking at all the sights like the Empire State Building and then going to see the Statue of Liberty. It was a lot of walking or getting taxis but it was so much fun running round the city without a care in the world as usually there is always something to worry about but you both just let got of any worries and enjoyed the day together. After exploring for the day you went back to the hotel and Jorge made you get changed into a nice outfit to go out for dinner which he booked to surprise you. The dinner was lovely and Jorge really went all out on the choice of restaurant and he made sure that you didn't worry about his much it would cost which was very sweet especially just after Christmas. When you finished you went back to the hotel and got into comfy clothes and sat by your hotel room window as it had a view of time square. You both watched outside until the ball dropped at midnight which is when Jorge leant around and kissed you sweetly.

Jack Miller:

Jack wanted to host a party for New Years which you agreed to but you kind of regretted it when the day came around and you had to organise everything. You spent the day cleaning the house and going to get food and other things for the people you had coming over. Jack told you that you didn't need to do it all but you didn't want the house to be a mess when you had people coming over and you needed to get food. He helped as much as you would let him but you ended up doing most of it as you are such a perfectionist that you prefer to do things your own way. After getting the house ready all day you then had to get yourself ready but luckily you had already thought about your outfit so got ready quite quickly just in time for people to start arriving.

Again when people arrive you don't relax for one second as you are making sure everything is alright and talking to people. Jack followed you round the whole time so when you stopped for a few seconds he could actually talk to you or hold your hand just to let you know he was still there. Eventually he managed to get you to stop and enjoy yourself so you both sat down on the sofa and talked about the last year as it's been a wild year and you haven't really had time to take it all in and think about everything. Once you actually relaxed you really enjoyed the night and had fun talking with everyone about their aims for the next year. You talk with people right up until midnight when Jack takes you off to a quiet corner of the room where he kisses your cheek once the new year hits as he knows you aren't keen on affection in front of people.

Joan Mir:

You didn't really have any plans until his parents invited you to come over so you agreed to go seeing as you wouldn't be doing anything else anyway. It wasn't any big get together so neither of you bothered with dressing up you just wore the comfy clothes you would have worn while at home. On your way to his parents you stopped at the shop and got alcohol and some chocolates for every to eat during the day. It is a bit of a drive so the both of you sing songs together the entire drive which doesn't usually happen but you were both in a good mood and when you started singing along to the music quietly he joined you. Anyone who saw you driving along probably would have thought you were crazy singing and dancing to music but you didn't care as you were having fun.

When you arrive you all start to play games most of which Joan wins as he's good at everything but you do win a few times which you were very proud of and will definitely use to keep Joan in his place for a while. As it gets later in the day you all decide to order a takeaway as no one wants to cook anything plus it means getting to spend more time together doing nothing. After dinner arrives you put a film on which kills a few hours until it's a lot later when the alcohol you brought comes out. You stay inside for a bit longer enjoying a glass of wine until it gets late and Joan takes your hand and brings you outside. He brings you to sit on the step in his parents back garden and gets you to lean your head on his shoulder. You both reminisce about the year and the last few years and how everything has changed as things have changed quite a lot for the both of you. The both of you talked for so long that you heard the others doing a countdown for you which you just listened to until it got to zero and you shared a sweet kiss.

[sol1056]

still dead, though

so this is potentially an unpopular opinion, given the love I’ve seen across my dashboard. but I finally (it took like four months, y’all) got to the top of the wait list at my local library to read Gideon the Ninth.

which was a great book (for the most part), don’t get me wrong. Gideon’s voice just sparkles, and even the assorted memes littering scattered through the story didn’t detract (too much). and yes, a baby dyke who glories in attractive women and never once feels compelled to either a) justify her attraction or b) put men down or even c) put other women down (at least not without reason), yeah. totally deserves the kudos. and after starting solidly and undeniably enemies, it’s a believable shift to almost-lovers.

although technically all you actually get is an i-love-you exchange.

that’s it. a paragraph later (not even a whole page!) we get hit with Bury Your Gays (plus some Vasquez Always Dies if we’re counting). 

it somehow just does not help my reaction that the second book is “all about a [queer] character grieving painfully to the point of disassociation.” I’ve read this book, seen this movie, got the t-shirt, lost it all in the lawsuit, and somehow lived to tell the tale. A now-solo lesbian character whose mental state is now so shredded by grief that they’ve effectively gone insane? fuck, you could not write to the letter of the trope harder if you goddamn tried.

I went digging anywhere I could think, to find spoilers. does the dead lesbian come back? was it all a fake-out? she does come back, right? far as I can tell, there are vague-slash-ambiguous comments from the author that the character “is still around!” or words to that effect. and from reader reviews, it appears the character’s “still around” is that her ghost lives on in the survivor’s mind. she apparently makes a ghostly cameo in the 2nd book, and the third book is about a completely different character? idk. I saw no “she’s back!” celebration. what I saw read a lot like when fans are clinging to a few passages and hoping that means eventually it’ll all pay off for them, if they just keep believing.

so. great story, still dead.

oh yes, I’m sure you want to tell me that it works this way for the story! my sweet summer child, it has always “worked this way for the story.” the defense has never been “the author killed off yet another queer”. it’s always been “that’s what the story required” as if the story is some sentient creature that eats dictionaries and spits out cruelty.

don’t waste my time hiding behind passive voice. when an author takes it all the way to the i-love-you then kills the queer, and follows by making the surviving queer go insane, they’re not avoiding the trope, they’ve actively hunted it down and forced it to go to prom with them.

at least have the fucking decency to be honest about that.

and I understand that in a world where there’s just uncounted multitudes of stories with queer characters and the happy endings far outweigh the grieving/insane lesbians mourning their dead, we could possibly, eventually, have a story that honestly explores grief and loss and not have it slam down hard on the big red button of sixty-plus years of literary trauma.

but we don’t yet live in that world, and I am sick to death of authors playing the trope word-for-word but batting their eyelashes like they’re special enough to be exempt. how could anyone be mad at them, their intentions are good, they’re friends with their fans, y’know, now you’re just overreacting.

look, I get you didn’t wake up this morning planning to run over a pedestrian, but you still hit me, and all your good intentions don’t make it not hurt.

le sigh.

I really wish I’d been spoiled before I’d started, so I would’ve known to skip. these stories are never enough to offset the suckerpunch at the end.

[astererer]

after like days and days of trying to write this out i finally have the time to share some Aster Lore w y’all :)) slapping under the cut bc it got a wee bit lengthy

born into a family of flying taxi cabbies, like there’s at least one person every generation who grows up to be a cabbie — family tradition of each child receiving a rookidee as their first pokemon when they’re like. 5 years old. constant bird companion

used to be a shy child — could be very talkative around family and pokemon, but tended to struggle with interacting with other people a lot to the point that she dropped out of her initial gym challenge attempt after winning a single gym badge. not wanting to give up entirely tho, she spent a few years working on her confidence and tried again when she was 14, still riddled with anxieties but more mentally prepared and armed with coping strategies for if she started to feel overwhelmed

mostly took part because winning gym battles means getting a cash prize as well as the badges. had absolutely zero intention of reaching the finals and facing leon but somehow managed it anyway. and won. like it was a close fight, practically a draw, but a victory is a victory and she got crowned champion of galar

then within 2 weeks she just quit. up and left. packed her bags and ran away to travel (which was her original plan anyway). no notice to the league itself, aster simply went home, told her family she couldn’t handle being in a role she didn’t really want in the first place, and disappeared off to kalos. turns out there’s a lot of pressure that comes with being a reigning champion, both in a business sense and due to everyone in the region knowing who you are, making it impossible to go anywhere without being hounded by strangers, and aster was like “nah not dealing with this. bye lol”. after a brief statement from her family where they confirmed she left of her own volition, leon got his title back and any media circus about aster’s extremely early retirement was promptly killed.

spent the next few years exploring different regions before deciding to settle in unova, at first in nacrene city, but moved to nimbassa after a year — the art scene in nacrene city is cool and all, but nimbassa just has so many things to do for fun and is also just a more central location.

aster’s personality has changed between abdicating the galar league and the present day. over the course of a decade and experiencing new things + meeting new people near constantly, she’s become more outspoken and relaxed, able to talk to total strangers with relative ease. also developed a flair for dramatics, which can be seen in how her battling style has evolved over time

doesn’t really have a job. currently makes most of her income by visiting black city every few days to battle other trainers in the tower, or helping out an artist friend back in nacrene city with any odd jobs that need doing. aster likes not having an actual job, she’d rather be able to spend as much time as possible devoted to her hobbies and her team, than have to take orders from another person or deal with the responsibility of giving other people orders.

loves movies. like outside of pokemon, film is her favourite thing in the world. since moving to nimbassa city aster has been building up a collection of blu rays and dvds, to the point that she has entire shelves full of them, floor to ceiling. any genre is good in her eyes, she’ll watch anything whether it’s a corny romcom or a surrealist horror. has also started investing in better sound systems and a projector, and is currently in the process of turning her apartment’s living room into a home cinema sort of deal.