#they only see part of the picture and refuse to understand the rest of it

[peaxhxhair]

Raising Kids with them - Overwatch Heroes

Featuring: Cassidy, Mercy, Moira, Roadhog, Junker Queen Warnings: Moira. A/n: this isn't exactly the official setting for each character - but this is fanfiction so we're gonna ignore it lol Navigation Overwatch - MASTERLIST Consider becoming a member! <3

Odessa Stone (Junker Queen)

She wouldn't be into having kids at first - thinking that something so small would make her weak.

It does - but she refuses to admit it.

You both decided adoption was probably the best option - adopting a sweet baby girl.

I think Dez would be all about teaching her kids to fight.

Even before they've learnt to walk.

"C'mon kiddo! I was fighting at your age!"

Sometimes you would find her playing with your baby - making it look as if they were both boxing.

It was quite a funny sight.

You'll come home from work and find them watching wrestling or something.

Probably swears around your kid.

Your babies first word is probably 'cunt' or 'fuck'

You're usually the one to take your daughter to school, but on the off chance Dez does - the rest of the parents are scared of her.

The kids adore her though.

She'll struggle doing stuff like diaper changes at first - as anyone would

~~~

As your daughter gets older - she grows into a mini version of Dez.

She wont call her 'mom' - instead calling her something silly like 'cunt' or 'fuckwit'

Dez gets a real kick out of it - and does the same.

Dez would be a little disappointed if your kid didn't want to fight, though she'd still be supportive - even if she didn't really understand.

Cries on your daughters wedding day - but tries to hide it.

"I'm not crying cunt, you're crying"

Mako Rutledge (Roadhog)

I think Mako would be really good with kids-

Big brooding dad & cute tiny daughter combo type vibe

Maybe she's really talkative, and he just listens.

He'd let her put clips in his hair and paint his nails.

It's giving Gru when his girls are doing ballet.

He's always the one to hold the kids when needed - since he barely has any issue.

His hands are just so big.

Even if you had like - 4 kids he would have no trouble carrying them all.

You were grateful that you could have some time alone sometimes, as Mako is a very competent father.

'crane's hand back while driving when kid opens snack' dad

Your kid might pretend to wear his shoes - and they can barely even stand properly in them, let alone walk.

Moira O'Deorain 

Does not want kids.

Only agreed because you would make a face at her whenever you saw a baby.

test-tube baby fr

Literally will not go to another doctor about her kids health.

Does she know anything about kids? No.

Does she think she knows more than the QUALIFIED children's doctors? Absolutely she does.

MIGHT agree to taking your kid to see Angela - if you're not too keen on her doing science on your kid.

HATES being called mom.

She's fine with your kid just calling her by her name.

This was weird on the first day of school - most parents thinking your kids other parent wasn't in the picture.

She was fine with that idea - meaning that you 'left' your old partner for her. Narcissist.

~~~

Your babies first word was definitely her name.

but in the cute baby way.

'Moiwa'

When your kid gets a little older, maybe they'll ask about Moira's arm.

"This is what happens when you smoke"

Your kid will never even THINK about smoking ever again.

It isn't until they're 30 that they realise that wasn't true.

Prefers to keep her kids away from science - as much as it was important to her.

She'll barely talk to you about it either - which may be hard if you're also a part of Talon.

Having to bring your kids to work with you is definitely SOMETHING.

You'd prefer for them to be with you rather than with Moira, though.

Your kids are NOSY, so you have to bend the truth a little bit.

Just to make sure they don't view their mom as the ruthless geneticist that she ACTUALLY is.

"Why is miss Amelie blue?"

"She didn't eat her vegetables"

Angela Ziegler (Mercy)

BIG on consistent check-ups.

Sometimes she'll do them herself, but she prefers the professionals.

She doesn't specialise in child care, but she does make sure that your child is going to the best doctor in the field.

Definitely enjoys shopping for baby clothes.

Works with baby on lap - letting the little guy play with her fingers.

Aeroplane noises while getting the baby to eat.

does NOT let the kid eat candy until they're like 10.

This was hard for you - because it meant you couldn't have candy in the house.

Secret stash of sweets hidden somewhere in your car.

One in Overwatch HQ too.

ALWAYS prepared.

Baby needs a snack? She's got cut up grapes in her bag.

Always has wipes and diapers.

"Hey babe? Where's their bottle?" She's already retrieved it from the drying rack.

Tiny first-aid kid in her bag at ALL times.

~~~

If your kid wants their ears pierced at Claire's. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Angela is panicked at any idea of infections - especially when it comes to your kid.

Your kiddo is made to wear clip on earrings until they qualify to be pierced by a professional.

Will always make sure places are baby safe before you take your kid there.

~~~

She's calm 90% of the time - she just cares about general safety and health.

Matching onesies with your kid.

Chilli and Bingo core :)

Angela would LOVE doing Halloween costumes for your kiddo.

They're always so CUTE.

If she has the time, she'll put together matching family ones.

Cole Cassidy

Baby carrier dad.

Like he'll just carry your baby everywhere.

Gets upset when he has to put the little guy down.

"We're just fine over here. No need to pull us apart"

Your child definitely prefers him to you - which you're fine with.

It's just so cute seeing them play together.

I'd say he's a girl dad - the type to teach her how to shoot, or play football with.

9 times out of ten, he'll fall asleep while reading her a bedtime story, so he always just ends up sleeping in your daughters bed with her.

The two of them cuddled up on the tiny mattress - he's holding your little girl so protectively.

~~~

The moms at the nursery you take your daughter to all think Cole is hot.

Too right.

They just need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.

Your kid is very protective of him - and your relationship.

If you're married, she'll be like;

"Daddy, show her your wedding ring!! Isn't it nice?"

It makes Cole chuckle every time.

Cole didn't even need to shut the women down - your kid was doing all the work for him.

~~~

Definitely the dad that all of your kids friends like

"Your dad is so cool!"

He's always invited to their little tea parties and stuff.

Yes, he will put on the crown and princess dress.

[boltwrites]

NEED to know what happens when logan meets your parents for the first time - does he flirt w/ your mom? What do they think about the age gap? Does your dad like him or is he all "nobody's good enough for my princess😤" do they know you're mutants? Giving you full creative freedom to do as you please just give it to me 😭😭

A/N: ok, so since you've given me creative freedom, we have: 20s-ish mutant fem!reader who teaches at the mansion on 10005, old man worst wolverine!logan, the two of you met after the events of dp3 and the relationship progressed from there.

also. this shit has been giving me so many problems. i was really trying to write typical white-picket fence, suburban sitcom-style parents, but honestly? i don't know dick about those type of parents. so you get these assholes instead.

this may actually be one of the worst things i've ever written. i might add a part two at some point, but really i just think this is horrible and want it out of my sight lmao. so here you go.

Your palms were sweaty, your heart racing, as you reached for the doorknob to your childhood home, Logan standing to your side. The last time you'd brought a boy home (and he had been a boy) things hadn't ended well.

Your dad was a traditionalist, you see, and your mom - well, she wasn't one to judge your choices, but you could tell that sometimes when you told her about your love interests, she was holding in laughter. But your dad - he was very vocal about the expectations he had for your partners. He'd never treated you like some kind of princess or prize - oh no. he was a man who saw his children as students of his own knowledge. No matter what your gender, he had taught you how to trim a tree, change a tire, wire a light switch, cook a filling meal - the basics of owning a home and keeping it put together.

Because of that, your parents hadn't often approved of your previous boyfriends. In high school, you'd been too frightened to bring them home. You'd only attended a traditional public school for your freshman year, and the rest of your time spent at Xavier's you'd been far too worried about your dates accidentally exposing themselves as mutants to justify introducing them to your parents. They weren't anti-mutant, per-say... but they certainly weren't supportive, and you didn't want to put even your prom date through that.

As you grew older (graduated college, was hired on as a teacher at the mansion instead of a simple student), you came to understand the reasons why your parents were so discerning as to your choice in men. Your mother's stoic judgment wasn't meant to be mean - she just wanted you to choose a man for more than just superficial attraction, to think of the bigger picture. Which, you'd been blissfully unaware of, as a teen. Your father's traditionalism wasn't rooted in outdated gender norms - it was simply connected to the fact that he wanted your partner to be able to support both you and your household in a significant way. That's why he was always harping on picking a "real man" - not some newfound conservative bullshit, but the simple understanding that sometimes men tried to do the bare minimum, and that he knew you deserved so much more.

And Logan, well. He could certainly support you. He was unlike any man you'd ever dated. He didn't have any social media you had to worry about - no feed or "for you" page filled with scantily clad women and sexist messaging disguised as finance advice - only a stupid flip phone he refused to text you on. He was helpful, attentive, affectionate - even despite the trauma you'd both experienced as mutants. You understood that his struggled has affected him far more than your had, that he still needed to heal - and even though that strained your relationship at times, you knew he cared, knew he tried - so you fought for it. That was something you couldn't say about your previous boyfriends.

Plus, you knew he could handle your weirdass parents.

"Nervous?" He'd asked you, when you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You'd given him a side-eyed look as you posed the concept, like you were giving him an out to decline.

"I mean, kind of?" You responded, hesitant. All he did was chuckle, smirking at you.

"What, am I gonna pull up to your dad cleaning his shotgun in the garage?"

"Honestly? Maybe, but that's not what I'm worried about," you admitted, fidgeting. "It's... it's hard to explain. I guess the closest thing is that they're - funny? Like - they'll make fun of you. My dad - he makes all of these horrible inappropriate jokes, like, all the time, and my mom is just really sarcastic, and she seems super judgmental because of it, but really, she's just being funny."

Logan just looked at you, one eyebrow raised. "

What?" You asked. You'd expected more from him. But he just snorted.

"Babe, I've been stuck in the void with Wade-fucking-Wilson. I'm not scared of your parents."

So, you took a breath, offered Logan one last "brace yourself-" and pushed open the door. Immediately you were met with the smell of something cooking - you recognized it immediately as one of your dad's signature dishes, sizzling on the stove.

"Hey, we're here!" You called out, you tried to usher Logan in and up the stairs of your split-level, but he insisted on closing the door behind you - and the shitty screen door that had been around since before you were born made a horrible shaking, scraping metal sound as it bounced along the concrete of your porch. Ah, the sound of home.

"Hey, you!" Your dad called, poking his head out of the kitchen. "What're you- hey, ho! Who's this?" He gestured to Logan with the spatula in his hand, and your face immediately reddened.

"Dad, this is Logan."

"Hey," Logan nodded in greeting, and your dad made a little shocked noise.

"Logan? Who's Logan?"

"Jesus Christ-" you huffed it under your breath, and Logan tried to stifle a chuckle. "He's my boyfriend, remember?"

"Boyfriend?" Your dad's voice pitched higher. "That motherfucker looks older than me!"

Well. There was your dad getting right to the point, as per usual.

"I am," Logan replied, and you fucking elbowed him in the ribs.

"No mutant shit - they don't know," you hissed a reminder, and he rolled his eyes.

"Hey - you see this guy, Nikki?" Your dad called to the dining room.

Your mom sighed - unlike your dad, she had some kind of decorum, and had the decency to shoot him daggers before she met you and Logan at the top of the steps.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan," she greeted him - you could tell that she was fighting the all consuming urge to shoot you a look or make a joke about this whole thing. She was trying so hard. It was like that scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit with the shave and a haircut song.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Since you're clearly old enough-"

It was like some demon forced her to spit out that line. You snorted, had to shake your head. This was a mistake.

"What do you have?" Logan asked instead, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, smirking at the whole situation. It was like he lived to see you embarrassed.

"Water, coke, iced tea -" she listed off.

"My dad's shitty beer," you added, and Logan's brow raised.

"Hey! Busch is good beer!"

"No the fuck it is not," you replied, because he didn't even drink the light stuff.

"I don't care, I'll take the beer," Logan cut in, and your dad wagged a finger at him.

"Yeah! I'll get you one - it's good shit, man. Somebody watch the stove."

Oh good lord. There he goes. Logan shot you a look - lip quirked into a little smile, before your dad clapped him on the shoulder and hauled him towards the stairs.

That just left you. And your mom.

She looked at you. You looked at her.

"Well?" you asked, stepping up to take your dad's place at the stove to watch the food. Your mom shrugged in response.

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to ask me about him - make some weird comment about his age? I mean - now would be the time," you hedged. You just hated this weird aura surrounding you all. How it felt like she had so many questions to ask, but was holding them all back.

"Obviously I can tell he's old," your mom replied. "It's not really a discussion. Is there something we do need to talk about?"

You knew what she meant. Were you safe with him? Were you happy? Did you bring him here to meet them because you needed help, not because you wanted to share your happiness with them?

Some people might find that sort of implication unthinkable, or rude to address - but you knew your mom. She watched a lot of true crime. She just cared about you.

"No," you replied, with a sigh. "I-I really like him. He's a good man. He actually - he knows how to be a man, if you know what I mean. How to take care of himself. I don't know - I didn't realize how important that was until I met him."

You mom nodded. Her arms were crossed, and she wore her typical resting bitch face, but you could tell she understood what you meant.

"Well. Hopefully your father doesn't shoot him."

[artbyblastweave]

One interesting thing about Caesar which I basically never see anybody talk about, right, is that his father was killed by raiders. I understand why nobody talks about it, because he's the world's biggest asshole, and the game itself only addresses it in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it line. But it's notable to me because it's basically the textbook example of a Freudian excuse, and in a lesser game likely would have been played up as such. His father gets killed by raiders in the NCR heartland, and fifty years later he's built an empire standing opposite the NCR that's noted for having basically eliminated raiding as a concept within its borders (part-and-parcel with the rest of the oppression.)

This is never directly presented as a contributing factor to Why He's Like That. It isn't presented as the fulfilment of some oath he swore on his murdered father's grave. In fact, it's almost the inverse- you only find out about this when he briefly mentions it as part of the extremely curated, self-aggrandizing backstory that he's giving you as part of an extended sales pitch. It's a curt mention- something that happened, an explanatory factor in how he and his mother wound up in the care of the Followers. A figure he has to account for in telling you his life story, because as an outsider you aren't going to fall for the "Son of Mars" routine. But not something terribly important besides that. Not something with a place in the mythology. Definitely not a loss or absence that's meaningfully impacted him in any way going forward, because the Mighty Caeser is of course totally above such petty concerns.

That digression aside, the point is this- it's comically easy to imagine the version of this story that leveraged these exact backstory details, unchanged, to paint a picture of Caesar as a brooding antihero, making the both-sidesing rampant in the fandom textual. There's probably some Conan-style grim-and-gritty sword-and-sorcery rise-of-a-king epics out there you could seamlessly slot him in as the protagonist of (the man himself reads Grognak comics.) There are the bones of an unironic self-satisfied ultramasculine power fantasy rattling around in there, the shrewd modern man who uses strength, guile and modernity to dominate his lessers, a hard-man-making-hard-choices, the whole process a masturbatory tract in favor of whatever ideology the infallible Great Man Protagonist chooses to embody. This is a kind of story, in science fiction, more often than not a grotesque one. And it's clearly the kind of story Caeser thinks he's the protagonist of. But Hank Morgan this fucker is not. And I'm intensely grateful that the narrative refuses to let him get away with pretending that he is. At the end of the day his army is wearing football gear.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere coworker (part 3)

Tw: fem reader, getting yelled at, getting kissed not consensually

Masterlists, part 1, part 4

You get to change into your freshly washed and dried work clothes later that afternoon, and you think you understand why he didn't want you going down there. Because as soon as you stepped into the laundry room, all eyes were on you and Cyprus. Without a shame in the world, they started ribbing him for having a girlfriend, hollering in excitement and telling you what a catch he is.

They all seem fairly young, either they're university students or people who just entered the workforce. They're comfortable enough to act like that around him, it painted you a picture of the community here.

It only took him a glare to shut them all up though. They all went back to their business as you collected your clothes from the dryer.

You went back up and he gave you privacy to change, you noted how he lived on the second floor. But there was no elevator, only dark and dingy, alloy stairwells. You don't think he paid very much for his rent.

You went out to see that he was still half naked, lounging on the couch as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom.

You asked him if you could have your phone back.

"Oh, you want this?" Without turning his head to face you, he lifted that familiar digital brick of yours to your eye level. "Come and get it then."

You walked up to the couch and tried to take it, but he jerked away from your hand. You tried to grab it again, but he pulled away. The faster you tried to swipe it, the faster he would dodge it.

To such a point that you're chasing him around the apartment. It wasn't a fair game, he had training, his legs were longer than yours and you're just an office worker who's out of shape.

You panted and rested your hands on your knees. That was when he decided to stand tall in front of you and dangle your phone over your head. You tried leaping into the air to catch it, but he would pull up at the last second, making you just out of reach.

You tried begging, hitting his chest, and dry sobbing for your device. Nothing seemed to work as he continued teasing you.

"Look at you, hopping like a cute, little rabbit. I like how you're so small against me, so weak and helpless." He scrunched his nose at you and nuzzled your nose. Cyprus saw what you're trying to do, he pulled away and avoided your grabby hands trying to remove his glasses from his face.

You felt humiliated and inferior to him, hot tears started streaking down your cheek as you kept trying to grab your phone. His laughing stopped and his shit-eating grin was replaced with an apologetic smile.

"Aw. I'm sorry, Princess. Don't cry. Here, I'll give it back." He brought it down to your chest level. You reached out to take it, only for him to retract his goodwill. "-If you let me take you out to dinner."

You tried to snatch it away a couple more times when you thought he wasn't paying attention, he was staring straight into your eyes! How could he have seen-

"I'm a boxer, doll. I can sense your hand."

You begrudgingly agreed to go with him.

"Great, it's a date then." He beamed, shoving your phone into his pocket.

You said he promised he would give it back to you.

"After the dinner, pretty girl." He clarified, walking towards his bedroom. You assume that he's going to put on some clothes.

He left the door open as he began to strip his shorts, you let out a gasp and covered your eyes when he pulled the band down too low and revealed a bit too much of his privates.

You ran to the part of the apartment where you wouldn't see anything that goes on in his room.

He rolled his eyes and stood up tall. "You're so dramatic- What are you running away for? We're going to fuck sooner or later, You're going to see it anyways!"

You refused to answer his remark, which earned an audible laugh from him while sounds of zippers and belt buckles could be heard throughout the room.

He came out a few minutes later, wearing jeans, a tight white top, and a faded leather jacket that takes on a dark brown hue instead of black. Cyprus sported clipped-on, polarized sunglasses on his prescription glasses. His combat boots were loud and demanding for every step he takes.

"Come on, Baby girl. Let's go." He gently hooked his arm around your waist as he led you out of his unit. You said that it's still afternoon, and it's too early for dinner.

"That just means we're not getting dinner now then. Come on, get out of the way, I need to lock the door." You stepped aside for Cyprus.

You asked him where is he taking you.

"Somewhere special." He jiggled his doorknob to ensure that it was locked shut.

You said that your bag is still in there with your wallet.

"You don't need either of those when you're with me." He leads you down the stairs by the small of your back.

__

You held onto him tightly as he zipped through the highway, getting dangerously close to other vehicles as he squeezed through an impossibly small gap. The wind was whipping against your helmet and his, it was noisy when coupled by the sound of his roaring motor.

You're screaming in the protective helmet he made you wear, you think Cyprus is insane for doing a wheelie with you at the back.

Your heart is thumping against your ribcage as he twisted the handles to rev up his engines. The front landed onto the asphalt with a slight bump, making you and him bob up and down with the aid of his shock absorber.

You felt your entire body jerk to the right as he made a sharp turn. You shriek, but you don't think anyone could hear you.

His motorcycle came to a screeching halt as he drifted to the side, fitting between two other unmoving cars. Cyprus did a perfect parallel park just like that, you could see the fresh tire marks on the concrete ground.

He kicked his stand down and balanced his vehicle on it, killing the engine. Cyprus got out of it and took off his helmet. He hung it on the handles before helping you off.

He laughed as you struggled to find your footing, using him as support as you stumble around with wobbly legs.

In the end, you pulled your helmet out revealing a frazzled face and hair. Which made him guffaw even louder.

He put both helmets away and stored his keys in one of his pockets. Cyprus clipped on his sunglasses and wrapped his arm around your waist, urging you to walk with him.

You asked him where he is bringing you.

"You'll see." He smiled.

You and him had to go through a path with a lot of foliage. The road was rocky and uneven, it was hard to traverse. But Cyprus was behind you the entire time, telling you to go on and making sure you're not falling.

Eventually, you reached a massive clearing with vibrant green grass and a scene that covers the entire city. There were families and other couples scattered around as they watched the sun slowly plunge into the horizon.

He took his jacket off and laid it on the ground. Cyprus gestured for you to sit on it. So you did, while he sat next to you on the grassy dirt.

There was a slight breeze blowing against you and him, but the warmth from the glowing ball in the sky is keeping the temperature to a comfortable degree.

His arm is loosely draped around your shoulders as you and he watched on. You squinted, the sunset was too bright for you to watch it normally.

"Here." You turned to him and he handed you a pair of sunglasses. You thanked him and put it on, now it's much more bearable to watch the sun setting.

It's a beautiful place. You like it here, you liked the silence. Unfortunately, Cyprus had to break it.

"It's definitely working."

You asked what was working, fighting the urge to punch the handsome smirk off his face.

"You're relaxed."

Then you noticed that you are. Your movements and speech pattern is much slower too.

"I used to come here when a couple rounds of boxing wasn't enough to calm my nerves."

You and he were quiet once more. Watching the sun's luminance become dimmer and dimmer as it slowly disappears. You weren't even bothered that he was mindlessly kneading your arm with his thumb.

Once the light is completely snuffed out and the area becomes pitch black, you suddenly feel a large hand holding the back of your head.

You instinctively turned your head to Cyprus, but that was proven to be detrimental when he pressed his lips against yours. It was soft, save for the scar that provided a bit of texture. His eyes were closed behind his glasses while he molded his kissers with yours.

He lets you go when you start thrashing, you wipe your mouth using your sleeve and spat. You began angrily complaining about his behavior, and how it isn't right for him to do this to you.

"Oh, you drama queen. Stop whining, you liked it too." He utilized the torch of his phone to light up the way, Cyprus offered you a hand, but you refused to take it and got up on your own.

He bent down and collected his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder before encasing his hand in yours. It was both rough and smooth, most of the calluses were on his knuckles.

The ride to the venue he chose for dinner was uneventful. He was calmer in his driving, no more reckless stunts that would give you deadly heart attacks.

It took another 20 minutes of riding to get there, you didn't trust him at all, that is why your arm constricted his torso tightly to make sure you kept your balance.

He parked properly this time, nothing like a daredevil as before. Checking his mirrors and adjusting his position accordingly.

"Watch your step." He said, pointing at the ledge between the entrance and the outside.

The familiar sounds of chatter, soft music and the smell of alcohol reached you. The lighting was somewhat dim and very warm, clinks and pours could be heard over the counter. He had brought you to a pub for dinner.

The waiter seated you and him in a booth. However, before he can bring the menus in, Cyprus already ordered for you and him: two plates of Steaks and fries, two pints of beer.

You said you wanted to see what they had.

"Trust me. Everything is shit except their steaks." He thanked the waiter for bringing the beer.

You watch him drink from his glass as he stares at you for not doing the same.

"Like what you see?" He winked at you.

You looked away, making him chortle at you.

"God, you are just so cute. Are you doing it on purpose, dollface?"

You scratched the back of your neck out of bashfulness. If it wasn't for Cyprus, you would be home right now, either doomscrolling or binge watching a show. This is all so new to you, having a meaningful life outside of work.

"For real now. What do you do on the weekends?" He asked.

You said that you were truthful. If you weren't invited by your friends or colleagues, you would be working or scrolling through social media.

He grunted in contemplation, sipping on his mildly bubbly beer.

"Yeah. That's not going to happen. Not on my watch." He declared. "We're going somewhere new every Saturday and Sunday."

You gave him a half hearted 'okay' before asking him for your phone back.

His pleasant smile turned into a scowl. "Will you forget about your phone for a second?!" He snapped, loud enough to spook you, but not loud enough to garner the attention of others.

"We are on a date, for fuck's sake." He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing and softening his tone. "Listen, I want this night to be just for us. No work, none of those fake assholes from work. Just the two of us. Okay?" He examined your face closely and softened his eyes.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, baby doll. Don't cry. You know I didn't mean to make you scared." He wiped the tears that you didn't realize were falling from your eyes. It was embarrassing, to say the least. You think that you're not in control of your own emotions recently because of the stress of being shoved into this situation.

You pulled away and sniffled, wiping them away and trying your hardest to regain composure.

Neither of you spoke a word in the next few minutes, you would always swat his hand away when he tried to hold yours or your face.

Cyprus was frowning. But there really isn't much he could do other than to drink his beer and to tone down his antics.

You wanted to go home and rot in bed. It's comfortable, it's familiar. You do not want to eat dinner at 8pm, you wanted to be cocooned in your air conditioned room and fry your eyeballs with the light from your fucking phone.

At this point, you don't even want your phone to contact anyone. It's like your pacifier, a distraction from the daily horrors of the world. Those silly little dances you would see people do online really make you forget what a terrible life you've lived.

You think your emotions are unravelling at a dangerous rate because you haven't had your phone to soothe you for an entire day now.

You didn't even want Cyprus as your boyfriend, fling or whatever. You just wanted to be single in peace.

You told Cyprus you're really tired and you don't want to be here.

"What's so horrible about me, that you have to pull every trick in the book to get away?"

He watched you with his eyebrows knitted in concern and sadness while he tipped the rim of his glass to his lips.

You said that you're not compatible with him. You were genuinely not interested in romance and adventure, preferring to live a life of patheticness instead. So you begged one more time for him to please hand your phone back.

He continued drinking his beer while yours remained untouched.

"That won't work on me. So, no." He replied.

Exasperated, you slumped into your seat.

The food arrived, it looked delicious with steam wafting off it. The thick cut pub fries were crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside. The sauce was perfectly seasoned with a side of carrots and broccoli.

You're too tired. Mentally exhausted to bring yourself to eat.

You looked elsewhere as you heard his fork and knife softly clattered against his porcelain plate as he cut his beef into bite-sized pieces.

"Here." You looked back up and saw that he switched plates, you got the one that was cubed into nice edible chunks while he took the one that was untouched. "It should be easier to eat."

Now that it takes less effort you picked up a fork and began stabbing it.

"You really are a princess..." He mumbled before pushing a large cut of steak into his mouth.

Cyprus had a taste of his own medicine when he tried multiple times to start a conversation, you would respond curtly. It doesn't matter what topic he chose, nothing seems to pique your interest. All you focused on was clearing your plate.

You had to pack the leftovers in a takeaway box because the portions were abnormally large. You don't think someone like you could finish it in one sitting without vomiting it all back up.

You had to wait for him to smoke his cigarette before he would drive you home. He's taking his sweet time, trying to coax a chat out of you in the process.

You remained monotonous, answering with one word or nothing at all.

He sighed as he disposed of his used cig in an ashtray built into a trashcan.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home." His hand was dangerously low on your back.

__

He knows where you live now, but you don't care. You just wanted to recharge at home, maybe isolate yourself until it's time to face everyone at work again. Keeping on a mask is exhausting, you do not want to have a boyfriend because of that exact reason: you couldn't help yourself but to act around him.

"This is the place?" He asked, propping his motorcycle with a foot on the road. You nodded, hopping off and removing your helmet.

"Wait." He parked his vehicle properly on the sidewalk before following you. "I'll walk you to the door."

You had no energy to say no, so you just kept moving forward like a zombie.

"What's wrong?" He asked when you froze. You saw the silhouette of that one creepy guy who seems to have a crush on you. But you caught him stealing your underwear from the dryer one time.

Before you could explain, the pervert came out of the lobby and called your name. He was happy to see you and was even making a mad dash with his arms wide open. But his smile dropped upon seeing Cyprus's foul glower and how you're snugly tucked under his arm.

"Who's this?" He asked, eyeing him up and down. Your stalker has to crane his neck up in order to reach your unwanted boyfriend's eyes.

"Her man, what's it to you?" Cyprus snarked, pulling you behind him while he balled his fist, readying himself for a fight. He has no chance against your coworker, he's small and scrawny with fragile bones.

"I-I didn't know she had a boyfriend!" He stammered, trying to look at you, but you took advantage of Cyprus's wide, muscular frame.

"Now, you do. Fuck off before I beat the shit out of you." He barked, making him jump and scurry away.

"Who does that asshole think he is, looking and talking to you like that? Did you see what he was about to do?" He grumbled on, riled up by your creep's presence and stressed that you wouldn't give him the attention he craved.

You thanked him and kept moving. Cyprus had to jog lightly to keep up.

He followed you all the way to the elevator, shooting a nasty look at anyone who went too close to you. They're your neighbors who were once curious as to the gentleman beside you, now fearing the rabid dog you called a colleague.

He constantly has a possessive grip on your shoulders. You wonder if he's suspicious of everyone he comes across in this apartment because of that one creep. You hope that he wouldn't act like this at work, or you would have to visit the HR more than you visit the toilets.

Finally, you reached your room. Because you're drained of life, you struggled longer than usual to unlock your door. Cyprus even had to step in and help out.

Once opened, you turned around to look at him expectantly.

He took your phone out of his pocket and brought it close to you. Of course, you reached out to grab it, only to have his face loom closer and closer to yours.

You squeezed your eyes shut and pursed your lips, but he ended up kissing you on the forehead instead of your mouth.

He pushed your beloved device into your hands.

"Goodnight, beautiful." He whispered. "Have a good rest."

You nodded and closed the door in his face. You couldn't bring yourself to slam it because he protected you from that weirdo.

You let out the biggest breath of relief as you slid down your door into a fetal position.

But that bliss was short-lived when you realized that you left your bag and wallet at his place.

You let out a frustrated scream in your palm as Cyprus descended the stairs with his hands in his pockets, mouth already holding an unlit cigarette.

[fanartlover1234]

SKIP

Y/n and Hook are dating but he has to make up for forgeting their anniversery

All day long Hook couldnt think of a rrason of why his sweet Y/n was off and kind of cold to him, her respones were short and she shyed away from his touch.

He decided maybe she just didnt feel like talking untill he walked to his room to find a little box on his bed with a little note that said 'happy one year' and he felt like driving a his hook through his head, how could he forget.

He opened the box to find a medalion in shape of heart and opening there was a picture of them both.

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

"Im not ditching class with you" Y/n said trying to get away from her boyfriend not wanting to let him convince her as she was still hurt by yesterday.

She without noticing fell into a slower pace as her boyfriend slowly walked backwards infront of her trying to meet her eyes.

"Class happens everyday, this one doesnt?" He asked still trying to find his way into her gaze.

Y/n noticed he didnt have his hook with him so he must have left it in hurry, i mean he practicly ran to her.

"I cant fall behind" she said coming to a stop and finaly meeting his eyes.

Her eyes looked down when his hand rested on her hip, giving it a little squeeze.

"Ill help you study" he said and she rolled her eyes knowing his version of study when he pulls her on to his lap when she would try to memorize something, he smirked when he saw her expresion.

He smirked even harden when she lowered her gaze, shuffling from one leg to another, a thing she did when she got nervous under his gaze.

"I have a test soon" she mumbled a excuse even she didnt believe enymore.

Hook moved the hand on her hip to hrr waist and pulled her into an empty hallway.

"Ja-" she froze when on of his hamds fell under her jaw squeezing just a little to make her lips part as his other hand fell on her waist.

He kissed her softlt making her brain log as he pulled her close.

One kiss led to another and soon a little moan when he pushed his leg betweem hers and he squeezed her neck and he gasp letting his tounge dance in her mouth.

And when the sixth kiss came, James laughed when his sweet girlfriend jumped because of the bell for class.

"Great now im late" she mumbled.

"Well not that you are late anyways" he said playing with her hair and squeezing her hip as he smirked whem her eyes tried to avoid his, a ting she did after a kiss "you can come with me now"

"James" she said with a small pout he found very cute as her doe eyes looked at him a bit annoyed "im going to class"

"Love, please just come with me it will be worth your time" he said.

"Class is important to me"

"This is more important" he said taking a hold of her waist and draging her with him but when she still refused he picked her up bridal style to carry her there.

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

What Hook had to show Y/n was truly nice, a picnik by the enchanted lake while watching the fairy blossoms open up for summer.

Hook had apologized for forgeting their 1 year but promised to never let it happen again no matter what.

Now Y/n was studying by her table catching up on astrology classes she missed, taking notes she borrowed from Bridget to copy.

Hook was laying on her bed, he'd be lying if he said his sweet Y/n studying wasnt a turn on.

"You said you will help me" Y/n said turning to see her boyfried only to quickly turn away and look at her notes at the sight of her boyfriend with no shirt.

Its not like she hasnt seen him shirtless before, they had fucked so she could never understand why she still grew shy at the sighy of it.

Hook chuckled as he leaned hisbhead to the side to see the sides of her cheeks a bit pink, his eyes trailing down to her thighs that were clenching together.

"I am"

"No you are not"

Hook got up walking over to where she sat placing both hands on the table at either side of her body.

"Fine. Let me help you now" he whispered and smirked seeing her legs start to rub together.

"With flashcards?"

"Later. For now" he said steping back and turing her chair around as he kneeled before her on one knee " id prefer if those pretty thighs clenched around me"

As those words left his lips, Y/ns face turned shades darker in red as her hands flew up to cover her face.

Y/n was never the one to admit she was horny or needed him, Hook just simply knew how to read her body language.

Hook got up reaching for her hands to pull them away so he could look her into eyes.

"No need to be embaressed darling" he said before kissing her " i got you" he said before his lips trailed down her neck.

His fingers slowly unbottoned her shirt before his lips latched to the top of her breast slowly going down to her skirt.

He lifted her up as he walked to the bed before his lips kissed her flods over her panties.

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

Y/n floped down breathing hard, het legs giving out when Hook finaly pulled out of her.

His fingers ran up her pussy as he spread the folds and toyed with the clit a big more.

"James"

"Im making it up to you, just one more love" he said before sucking her clit before going up to kiss her as he pushed hia dick back unside bow going in a god like pace.

Y/n s eyes rolled back as Hook braught his finger to her mouth and she gladly sucked them while she was on her 8th orgasm this night.

When Hook felt the girls last orgasm he pushed his fingets down making her gag a bit.

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

"Im sorry darling" Hook said again as he kissed the girls shoulder.

"Its okey"

Not my original idea, saw a post and loved it so gave it my twist.

Original idea belonhs to @giveityourworst and i love their work

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p2 | mat barzal

my masterlist & part 1 pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: the aftermath of the interview. warnings: not edited, a lil angst but mostly fluff! please let me know if i missed anything. word count: 972 author note: i refuse to call twitter X. also there are most definitely inaccuracies but i hope you guys like anyways <3

“Hey, we made it on People Magazine’s Twitter,” Mat says eagerly, and you look up from the journal you’ve been jotting lyric ideas in. He has an endearing and adorable smile on his face as he looks at his phone.

Still, you can’t help but look at him, titling your head slightly “You haven’t been in People Magazine?” 

He laughs but his smile doesn’t waiver. “Not all of us are insanely talented musicians.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and lean over to press your lips firmly against his. The past few months have been nothing but bliss, since you replied to his DM. You were scared to open your heart again after your last relationship but Mat has shown you thus far that if you find the right person, it’s okay to let someone in.

“I don’t know,” you tease, pulling away. “I’ve seen you with a guitar.”

He blushes and tries to hide it by kissing you again. You let him, mainly because you’re enjoying it but also because you don’t want to push. 

You’re floating in pure euphoria right now, enjoying every moment and you don’t want it to end. 

“You’ll come to tonight's game, right?” He asks, brushing a loose piece of hair out of your face and resting a hand on your shoulder. One thing that you’ve learned about Mat is how tactile he is. He always wants to be touching you somehow, whether it’s an arm around your shoulder or holding your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you promise.

. . .

You love coming to Mat’s games, but some of the girls are still iffy about you which is understandable. You’ve only been dating Mat for five months and you are also in the media which brings a lot of attention. Sometimes unwanted attention. 

You also love your fans but they have a love/hate relationship with your relationship with Mat. Also taking into account his fans, and sometimes it’s too much. Like tonight. 

Everything starts great, there’s not much trouble getting to the stadium, but there are always fans waiting to hopefully get to see a hockey player or get a picture before the game. Someone sees you and then you’re back on Twitter and not the good side of Twitter.

You manage to get to your VIP suite pretty easily, Iris and some of your other friends with you. 

“I’d say I told you so, but you’d probably fire me,” Iris says dreamily, staring at the jumbotron that is showing a live feed of you. You’re not sure if it’s something you’ll ever get used to. You imagine this is what Taylor Swift feels like when she goes to Travis Kelce’s games.

“You just did,” you reply dryly but there’s no malice to your tone. You know exactly how Iris is and you love her for it.

Your eyes go back to the jumbotron, looking to see if they show Mat. You think you can see him on the ice from your current view, but you’re never sure unless he looks up and waves. 

“I’m glad I did, though,” you say and she looks at you for clarification. 

“Message him back. You were right.” 

She doesn’t say I told you so, or say any funny comeback. She just smiles and nods towards where the game has started. 

It’s a tight game and you’re on the edge of your seat for most of it but the Islanders win in overtime with a victory of 2–1, with Mat scoring the overtime goal. You watch the team celebrate on the ice before they head back to the locker room and you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to Mat letting him know you’ll meet him at his place. With your security and his postgame interviews, it’s usually best to just meet at either of your houses.

You’re sitting with a glass of wine, watching the highlights from other games when Mat gets home. You can hear him drop his bag by the door and toss his keys on the counter before making his way to the living room where you are waiting. Max, your golden retriever is sitting by your feet but his tail starts wagging when he sees Mat. 

“Hey pal,” Mat mutters, bending down to greet the pup before plopping down on the couch next to you. He sighs, staring at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, putting your glass on the table and turning towards him. He turns his head towards you and opens and closes his mouth a few times. You’re starting to get nervous when he speaks.

“Move in with me,” he whispers and you freeze.

“Mat-”

“Look, I know it’s only been five months but we spend all our time together anyway. We’re just bouncing between houses.” He reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “Let’s make it one house.”

The thought of moving in together absolutely terrifies you, but when you think about it, he’s right. If he’s not away for games or you’re not doing shows, you’re together and when you think about the future, Mat is standing next to you.

“Okay,” you say and his eyes widen. 

“Really? I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg,” he says and you’re not sure if he’s kidding or not.

So you shrug. “You make valid points. Plus, I think Max would like not to be shuffled around so much.”

He grins and leans in to kiss you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you murmur when you pull away and then Max jumps up on the two of you as if he knows a decision has been made and Mat almost falls off the couch but you have never been happier.

tag list: @ilyrafe

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#32: The Safety (1.04)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It was very clear up to this point in TOWL that Rick hadn't felt alive in years. But in this next scene, we learn that Michonne hadn't truly been feeling safe in years. And why? Because the only time she feels safe is with Rick Grimes. 😭

Danai wrote and delivered a line that moved me, broke me, and healed me all at the same and I have so many thoughts on it because I appreciate it so much 🥲...

So inside the gym, Rick lets Michonne know that the CRM took out the helicopter because they always destroy any evidence that they exist. Then he acknowledges that the whole building is buckling but Michonne is preoccupied with something that’s caught her attention.

When she doesn’t respond to him, Rick says, "Michonne?" and she takes hold of a note left behind by a deceased innovator, Lakshmi Patel. Michonne starts to read it aloud and it explains that this place consisted of like-minded innovators trying to live off the grid and create a new, sustained, and hopeful future.

Patel clearly lost hope in that vision saying that their motto of ‘progress and redemption through innovation’ is now like a sick joke. It’s interesting the letter then says, “I can’t face how much I have failed everyone” because that connects to something Rick feels, especially since when he chose to die he believed he died a failure.

Patel says she can’t continue to watch their mission die and apologizes. Meanwhile, Rick reads a much-needed message on the wall that says “Trust in your ability to adapt and overcome. Your past doesn’t define you.” And he def needs to hear that. 

gif cred: @clonecaptains

Michonne concludes reading the letter as Patel expresses her hope to be remembered as someone who refused to leave the world the same way she found it. And then Michonne gives a sad look at the body beside the letter seeing the somber fate of Patel. 

Michonne knows there are some connections to be drawn between this letter and Rick so she notes how it tends to not work out and fall apart when people try to save the world their own way. And just to make it extra clear she’s talking about Rick she says, “Sound familiar?”

(Side note: I like how she stays having one side of her shirt hanging off her shoulder. There’s something casual and comfortable about it plus it’s sorta like she’s trying to get Rick to realize the shirts already hanging off and he can take the rest off if he gets it together lol) 

Michonne says, “It’s just like this place. They thought they knew it all.” And then because these two can’t resist throwing some jabs in their arguments this ep she adds, “Oh except the killing of innocent people. Except that part.”

Also, I like the framing with a literal barrier between Rick and Michonne that paints the picture of the figurative barriers between them as well. Then Rick sounds the most CRM-ish he’s ever sounded when he responds saying, “The city stands.” Had me like...

And Michonne felt the same because the way she sighs - she’s so over this Commando front Rick is putting on. What happened to 'this isn’t my city'? I miss that energy.

And then Rick says, “And I’ll stop the killing. I’ll find a way.” He's so prepared to just burden himself with this mission. And Michonne challenges that, mentioning just like Patel thought she’d find a way...and we see how that worked out for her. 

Rick says, “You still don’t understand.” And the reason Michonne 'doesn’t understand' this is because it’s not the actual root of why Rick won’t go home. She can’t be fooled. And what Michonne does understand is that what Rick is proposing to do is basically, “Signing up for lifelong duty to the enemy.” But Rick rebuts that, “This is about ending the enemy.”

I love that Michonne is quick to respond saying, “This is not you, Rick.” She keeps trying to emphasize this because she knows him deeply and she knows this is not him being anywhere near his true self.

It's really fascinating to see this scenario play out where Rick has lost himself and is now back with the one person who knows him better than he knows himself, who can continually and accurately remind him that this version of him is not really him.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

But Rick thinks there are some aspects of this version of him that are authentic as he says, “This isn’t me how? That I would give everything - my hand - my life for you. That’s not me?”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And I do love hearing Rick basically say I would give absolutely everything for you and how that's him to his core. And it is him, but also a healthy Rick would be fighting to be with her too, not just die for her.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

As Rick makes his way over to her side of the barrier he yells, “This is what I need to do to keep you safe!” Safety has understandably been such a huge priority for Rick to provide since the very beginning of TWD. And when he yells this I can hear this fear in his voice that he genuinely doesn’t think there’s another way to keep her safe than the one he’s taking.

I appreciate how passionate Rick feels about keeping her safe but also…the tone of it just needed to come down a few notches because no one should be yelling at Michonne. 👌🏽

Also, this made me think about how in the season 4 finale, Rick tells Daryl “I want to keep him safe. That’s all that matters” regarding protecting Carl after the horrible night with the Claimers. Keeping his family safe is such a driving force of Rick's character and he feels the same intense devotion to protecting Michonne as he yells that he has to stay with the CRM to keep her safe.

Her safety is all that matters to him rn and he’ll do anything to preserve it. But that’s why it’s such a perfect and impactful gut punch for Michonne to then reveal where her true source of safety comes from in this scene.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Despite Rick's more ramped-up energy, Michonne, like she so often had done in the main show, (with that bullet moment from Clear being top of mind) approaches Rick's antsy energy with this arresting calm and beautiful vulnerability as she just melts my heart by softly telling Rick....

“The only time I feel safe is when I’m with you.”

gif cred: @figmentof

Y’all…😭😭😭 Perfection. I love it so much and it’s truly my favorite thing she’s ever told him. 😍

Before I started writing these TOWL posts I knew two lines were basically going to need a whole post dedicated to the line alone and it’s this one here from Michonne and another line from Rick in episode 5 that we’ll talk about later. There’s just so much to unpack with Michonne telling Rick that the only time she feels safe is with him. It makes total sense.

I had made a post right after episode 4 that incorporated TWD gifs of all the moments where it was evident Michonne got her safety from Rick. And I just think it’s the sweetest thing on the planet to know that in this dangerous world, the one thing that most made Michonne feel like it’s gonna be okay is Rick. 🥹 I once saw someone say Michonne makes Rick strong and Rick makes Michonne safe and I love that. Gospel truth. 💯

It’s such a big deal too because Michonne is an incredibly strong, competent, independent woman who many look at and quickly assume she can just fearlessly protect herself. And while she can protect herself, Michonne has always had so many layers to her so she’s also vulnerable and needs to feel safe and reassured from something outside of herself too. And I love that she knows she found that in Rick. 🥹

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Then the utter pain comes in when you realize this means for almost eight years Michonne hasn’t truly felt safe. She’s had to gracefully balance the responsibilities, fears, and expectations of motherhood and leadership as well as establish security for others and some semblance of security for herself, all without the personal safe space of her husband to turn to. It breaks me. 😥

And this is another reason I’m glad TOWL gave Rick and Michonne this space to be not just fighters, community leaders, or parents, but a husband and wife trying to find each other and themselves again.

Also, I love that she says 'the only time.' Like genuinely she’s either safe with him or not really feeling safe at all. And I feel like that’s also clear in her TWD scenes post-Rick with all the ways Michonne would cling to Rick's memory through various items. It's like she was trying to garner some sense of comfort again from the only person she ever completely let her guard down and trusted she’ll be safe with.

I remember I received a message a few months ago that touched on if I'd explore when Michonne seemed to realize that she only felt safe with Rick in TWD, how it impacted her actions, and what that evolving journey of safety with him looked like. It took me a minute to get to, but I said I would definitely talk about it, and so I want to break that all down now, right here. ⬇😊

When it comes to Michonne and her safety becoming tied to Rick. I think it happened before she knew it happened. 👌🏽

Now of course in season 3, Rick and Michonne are strangers so it doesn't happen this season. But it does seem like Michonne's inherent safety with Rick started at least budding even this early.

I especially think this because of that beloved scene in Clear where she tells Rick about talking to her dead boyfriend. That’s a very personal and vulnerable thing to share, especially from someone who didn’t even tell Andrea much about herself when traveling with her for months. (Which was a smart move considering the way Andrea stayed gossiping 🙂)

To me, it shows that somehow Michonne felt safe enough with Rick to open up about herself - I think because she recognized that she and him have qualities inside of them that are uniquely similar.

And then at the end of season 3 when Rick comes real close to delivering her to the Governor she still comes back and shows grace, trusting that she could return and be safe with them. But again I don’t think it’s season 3 where her safety is tied to Rick yet.

I think that comes in season 4.

However, not 4A just yet because I think in the first half of season 4 Michonne is absolutely starting to feel more safe and comfortable with Rick but that in itself feels unsafe to her at the time. Which is why she keeps herself at a warm distance from him.

I never lose sight of Michonne’s backstory when thinking about what’s made the character who she is because it’s so important. I know the show sorta put her losing a son and boyfriend in the background but for me it always informs so much about her, in the early seasons especially. And that’s such a traumatizing thing she had to go through and so you just know that it’s probably a lot to now be growing closer and closer to this man and his son at the prison knowing how things turned out for the man and child she lost at that refugee camp.

Michonne clearly really likes Rick and Carl in 4A but letting them in close after knowing profound loss is a bit of a fear for her so instead she’d always find ways to keep Rick at a friendly distance and stay out and about, of course for other motives like tracking down the Governor but also to run from the potential “danger” of being hurt again if she lets Rick become a safe space for her like he’s so naturally becoming. 

...But then the prison falls and so too do some of the walls around Michonne’s heart.

She tries to go back to her isolated ways after the prison but she can’t. She’s found family in those Grimes boys and she knows it and so even if she doesn’t know where those footsteps lead in After she knows she has to follow the call of her heart to be apart of something again.

In a heartbreaking scene in After (4.09), Michonne talks to Mike one more time, vulnerably saying she misses him and even saying she missed him while he was still here. It made me think how Michonne had probably also been keeping her distance from Rick out of a sense of loyalty to Mike. Just like Rick wrestled with feeling like he needed to be solely grieving Lori all the while falling hard for the katana-wielding woman that’s entered his life, I think Michonne also was subconsciously wrestling with feeling this intrinsic connection to Rick so soon after losing her family.

I really feel like Rick and Michonne’s immense sense of loyalty played a part in their slow burn being slow despite catching feelings for each other so quickly. Because while both of their former partners weren’t their person, they still weren’t just going to give up on them or abandon the memory of them, it’s not who Rick and Michonne are - they’re both loyal to the core, even to partners who weren’t loyal to them.

In some ways it seems like Mike might have stopped being able to understand Michonne, figuratively disappearing on her and giving up while she kept fighting, similar to how Lori just couldn’t understand Rick. But then Michonne and Rick met each other and felt exceptionally seen, known, heard, loved, and safe in ways that probably even surprised them towards the beginning of their bond. They finally found someone who could love them as loyally as they love, which is part of why of course their love can never be stopped or denied, not even by each other.

I think about how in season 3 Lori tells Rick he’s not a killer. But the thing is that killer is a part of him. It's not all of him but it is in him as we saw him really confronted with that side of himself at the end of season 4.

What’s beautiful about Rick's relationship with Michonne is she knows he’s a killer, even verbalizing that outright to Merle early in season 3, and she doesn’t have to deny it or change it to love him. Michonne gets that it’s in Rick and respects that as one of the many parts of him she respects and understands, not just from the outside looking in but personally. Basically, Rick and Michonne are each other's match in all the ways.

So in a beautiful act of resilience, Michonne fights the fear of being close to people again when she finds Rick and Carl in that house. And she truly embraces them as hers from here on out.

And I think here in this wonderful 4.09 moment when she finds Rick and Carl in that house is when Michonne more readily embraces that she feels most safe with Rick. 

In Claimed (4.11), I think we start seeing more visibly how Michonne's safety is tied to Rick and how she subconsciously senses it. In that home, both Rick and Michonne express that they need each other and are willing to possibly make a home with the two of them and Carl. An unspoken agreement that they're forever family now.

One of the many interesting things about that scene between Rick and Michonne in Claimed is that Michonne says she’s done taking breaks. But she wasn’t necessarily leaving the prison to take breaks, she was going on runs and hunting down the Governor. However, phrasing it as 'breaks' could imply that part of her constant trips away from the prison was her leaving to run from how close she was becoming to Rick and Carl - to “take a break” from becoming reintegrated into a family after the tragic aftermath of her last family turned her into a lone wolf.

But I love that when she said she’s done taking breaks she meant that and lived up to it. And then in each 4B scene, we see more and more how Michonne starts to draw closer to the Grimes boys and feel safe enough to be herself with Rick.

Rick gets to see Michonne's playful side with Carl, he wants to include her in family hunting excursions, they like talking to each other and smiling over dinner, and they both often check in on each other to make sure they’re taken care of.

By the end of season 4 when Michonne knows she’s okay because Rick's okay, I think she's now cognizant that she feels safe with Rick in a way that’s different than anything & anyone else. And truly how beautiful is it that in a world where safety is a true rarity, Michonne found that so fully in Rick. 🥹

Also, as I've detailed in many a post, this is also the point where I believe she's subconsciously fallen in love with him. 🥰

And where Rick’s previous wife and his former best friend/sheriff's deputy doubted his ability to keep people safe, Michonne trusts Rick wholeheartedly as a good man capable of protecting his family against anything. 

That's one of the great things about rewatching TWD Seasons 1 & 2. Those early seasons make it so clear that Michonne is a love Rick has never experienced before. We don’t just feel like their love is different we get to see it in how much more Michonne loves, respects, understands, believes in, and just all and all likes Rick as opposed to his former wife and best friend.

Last year I wrote a whole reflecting on richonne post about how Michonne and Rick rarely ever split up in TWD and were always paired up for most things. It was proof of their magnetism, trust, fondness for one another, and love.

But I like how now Rick and Michonne never splitting up in TWD is also such a clear sign of the safety they brought each other. And in season 5, that’s especially clear because they really are side by side through so much that season.

I think about when Michonne put her hand on Ricks before they entered Alexandria and how that was her way of offering comfort to him while also being comforted by his presence too. Just like Rick, a large reason she felt safe enough to walk out of that car and approach those ASZ gates after everything they’d been through is because she had Rick by her side.🥲 

The one time they’re not operating side by side with Rick hiding the gun plot from her, they both feel so weighed down by having anything come between them, and they're eager to repair the distance by the end of the season.

Michonne had felt both asleep and restless when they arrived at ASZ and part of it is because her source of safety was sorta losing his mind. When Rick begins his return to sanity - and Michonne really is a core source of sanity for him - we see a sense of safety return to Michonne as well as she declares she’ll always be with him.

I always adored that s5 'I’m still with you moment' and I love it even more now knowing that part of why she so confidently knows she’ll be with him no matter what is because Rick is who she feels safest with. 😭

In 6A all of Richonne's scenes continue to solidify that Michonne feels most safe with Rick. And when Rick goes out into the horde in NWO Michonne full-on panics because he’s doing something unsafe and her own safety just evaporates as she expresses a rare moment of disarray. 

And then in 6B we get to see a more personal and intimate way that Michonne feels safe with Rick. Even just walking around more stripped down in a robe and towel shows he’s made her feel super comfortable.

The heightened safety she feels with Rick is especially evident in their canon era - from the way they decompress on that couch before their first kiss, the way he calmingly reaches for her in the RV and it seems to immediately bring her peace, to just the safety to let herself be adored and loved on so fully by Rick’s good kind heart in all their comfy and sensual moments at home. 🥰

When she confides in Rick and tells him at the end of 7A that she only wants to go forward if it's with him - "you and me" - she means it.

And all through season 7 it’s clear she knows full well that the only time she truly feels safe is with him. It’s why she nearly throws in the towel - or throws in the sword - when she thinks walkers got to Rick in Say Yes and so vulnerably runs into his arms when seeing he is alive.

Michonne knew she couldn’t lose him on that honeymoon run. Not just 'I don't want to lose you,' she knew 'I can't lose you,' - something Rick too would grasp fully once taken from her for years. With soulmates like this, they lose each other, then in many ways they lose themselves.

When Michonne told Rick she couldn't lose him in Say Yes, I knew she felt it was because she loves him deeply but after TOWL it’s clear how she also knew she’d never truly feel safe again if she were to lose him. 😭 They are each other's security in this crazy world.

Then, after getting in that brutal brawl in the s7 finale, Rick makes getting to Michonne a priority and when he finds her against that wall, she just hears his voice and feels his touch and it looks like a sense of safety has been restored to her. And to Rick too.

In season 8, sirens go off in Michonne's head being away from Rick during the war and it’s clear she won’t be able to rest truly until he’s back.

And in that season's msf I’ve always felt it’s so clear that when she tells Judith she’ll bring her daddy back, Michonne is excited for both her baby girl and herself that they’ll have Rick back finally - the man who makes their family feel complete and safe. 👌🏽

After tragically losing Carl (which is forever heartbreaking 💔💔💔), both Michonne and Rick try to be a safe space for each other even despite their own immense individual pain.

And they do find their way back to each other, saying i love you and holding hands off to war because no matter the circumstances if they can hold each other they can feel a sense of safety.

And in s9, before Rick leaves, Richonne really feel so at home and safer than ever with each other. It’s a beautiful time for them and all their nice season 9 scenes show how Michonne is wrapped in the love and safety of her husband. Even literally just waking up with his arm wrapped around her.

When Michonne had some real apprehension regarding if the people could really band together after Negan, she always knew she could voice those concerns with Rick and he’d reassure her so encouragingly. Also for a woman to agree to get pregnant in an apocalypse - that requires feeling a lot of safety and Rick made Michonne feel safe enough to do that. 🥲

But then Rick is taken and it’s devastating. 💔 And with his absence, Michonne’s safety also goes away.

She had to bring the beautiful life they created into the world without him. And you can just imagine there were so many nights alone in bed during her pregnancy when she’d longed for him to be there. And so when she looks at Rick with the CRM in ep 3 and yells you were alive ‘with them’ in this episode, I always sense this added hurt because those CRM people, who don’t even appreciate Rick, got to be around him all the time while she was miles away longing for him to be with her and feeling unsafe without him.

And this profession that she only feels safe with him makes all those moments post-Rick where she’d still find ways to connect with him all the more meaningful because even after he’s gone, she still only feels at least a semblance of safety with him.

Be it through the ring she wears and even fiddles with on her finger when needing to think, a Sherriff action figure, the bullet shell from his gun that she always wears in her hair to keep him close, talking to him in their bedroom, and most notably wrapping herself in his clothes just to try to remember how safe she once felt in his arms.

It moves me so much how she still only felt safe with Rick even after he was taken from her. She tells Judith how she felt so lost after Rick was gone. And because she’s strong she figured out how to keep going of course, but the world became an ultra-dangerous place again so it makes sense why she’d become as cautious as she became. Nothing could make her truly feel safe until she was back with her true love.

And when Michonne is back with Rick in TOWL, you see that sense of safety start to come back. She has no clue where he’s taking her or how they’ll get out of this CRM place but she trusts him. She knows he’ll do anything to keep her safe.

But the surprising aspect is Rick will do anything to keep her safe…including trying to destroy being her safe space so that she’ll be willing to leave him and make it home. 🥀☹️

And that is exactly what we see happen as this heart-gripping gym scene continues. So my extra self has to do a part two to talk about the latter half of this gym scene.

I'll conclude this post by saying, “The only time I feel safe is when I’m with you” is such a deeply beautiful, meaningful, and memorable line. 😭 Black women, both in fiction and in reality, don't always get to express that innate want to feel safe with someone/something outside of ourselves and so seeing Michonne get to say that her safety doesn't just come from her but from her husband was powerful and lovely. 👏🏽

I forever love Danai for knowing Michonne would feel this way in her relationship with Rick and allowing her to voice it so perfectly and authentically here. This episode really was written by someone who knows Rick and Michonne inside and out and I adore the way Richonne is each other's truest safe space. 🥹👌🏽

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 

*

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 

Even if she tied it to one condition. 

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 

*

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell." 

This gets him a huffed laugh. 

"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself." 

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit. 

"Listen, your highness …" 

"Steve is fine." 

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 

Eddie frowns. 

"Dustin as in the kid or …" 

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 

*

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

Husband!König has many piercings, some he regrets some he admires himself from getting.

Getting in military after many years of bullying gave him lots of confidence, you can see it. From his lines in game you can understand how cocky and sure of himself he is. He’s a colonel now yes, but he was younger too. I believe he got to hookup more from his 19’s to his late 20’s, this gave him a possibility to discover himself, what he liked and to actually explore himself as a young adult. I believe he has had a brow piercing, the hole almost totally closed because he decided it was too risky keeping one on the field (image he actually rips it off because it gets stuck in something;-; ewwww) He just took it off and never really thought about putting it back in.

Classic but I do image him having a tongue piercing. Like listen, we know König eats pussy for pleasure, he would be okay with only feasting on your pussy for the rest of his life if he could choose to. So ofc, when he started to watch porn and noticed many actors having piercings, and how hot il looked while they ate pussy, he just went with it and got one. The fact that he actually went to a piercer instead of just asking Nikto for help by sticking a mf needle in his tongue and risking an infection, is actually pure luck, because our König is also a proud mf, he takes pride in being good at anything, And why wouldn’t he be able to stick a needle in his own tongue alone! (Thank god Nikto was the one to persuade him, he would’ve gotten an infection).

NOW, König has a big cock, we all know it, he knows it, everyone knows it. And how can his big attributes be highlighted if not by some downstairs piercings??? He’s got one on his tip, unfortunately removed due to the discomfort it gave him by constantly rubbing against his TOO TIGHT pants (whore). BUT DONT BE SAD! He once stumbled across a stack of porn magazines, they were old fashioned ones, probably from late 90’s, depicting naked man and women on each and every page (lol ofc they were porn magazine.)

A model in particular captured his attention, his soft dick resting on the side of a thigh, he could see the small piercings along the under part. Thank god König is also a tech genius, he works with advanced technology every day, so a silly and fast google search brings him to what he is looking for, that strange piercing’s name. Yes everyone, a Jacob’s ladder ;). He’s got one, his dick all hot and bothered form the moment he saw that model’s picture, because he was sure that it would feel SO GOOD to be inside a nice hot pussy, feeling how after each and every thrust the piercings would drag around the insides of a girl, making a moaning mess out of her.

Yes he got one, and he was very careful with it, König is a pretty clean lad, he may not have a skincare, may not use fancy lotions and shampoos, but he knows his routine, he keeps himself clean, even more now that he got the piercings. Well I think he got them in his 30’s, he was already mature enough to understand if he could or couldn’t take care of such an important body modification, and he went for it. He got it done when he knew he’d have the most time off from work, where he knew he could spent at least a few months outside the base and actually be able to care for the wound. Very sexy mature choice woof woof bark bark snarl gnawn

He has a failed lip piercing guys, if got ripped off when a bullet hit his face and scarred a bit of his lips, destiny wanted for the bullet to be deviated exactly by his lip piercing. He’s got a bit of a trauma now, refusing to get another one, but still grateful that the first one kinda saved his life and his face from the possibility of a fucking hole being planted inside of it. He was so sexy too, you have seen a pic (yes a pic, I never see anyone talking about how they actually have technology incorporated in their lives! They take pics guys! Like boomers probably, but they do!) you may try to convince him to get one again, and who knows, maybe he’ll actually consider, but only because YOU asked!! Image now the contrast of his tongue piercing and his lip one while he eats you out, woof woof bark, I’d faint.

[shunin-gumis]

As Master Joe Wishes - Track 01

Seasonal Team Event - L4mps

Worked with 18TL Ward on this!

Thank you Jelly for handling this chapter!

Location: HAMA House — Lesson Room

Sakujiro: Rules of the Oguro Family’s butlers, “Butler Oblige –108 Commandments–.” Pledge, “one must be willing to sacrifice themselves!”

Nagi: For the sake of granting their master’s wishes…!!

Sakujiro: Correct! If the master so wishes, you must give it your all, pour your heart and soul into it in order to grant their wish!

Sakujiro: Pledge, “One must not speak!”

Netaro: Without permission from their master~♪

Sakujiro: Correct! Should the need arise, observe them as one treads around their boss during the on-season and aptly conveys the scent of a delicious cup of black tea straight to their nostrils, gauging their reaction from there.

Sakujiro: Pledge, “A servant’s greatest honor!”

Toi: Is to take care of their master!

Sakujiro: Pledge, “When the master and other guests have a gathering!”

Yodaka: Await by the wall and refrain from interactions as if one was a shadow.

Sakujiro: Pledge, “When one receives an order or instructions from the master!”

Ryui: THE FUCK IF I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!

Rest of L4mps: …

Sakujiro: My, my… Ryui-san, you still refuse to recite the commandments. Honestly, what a troublesome apprentice.

Nagi: Ah……now we have to “bow” 150 times again as a group…

Yodaka: Perhaps I’ll break my back like Danny this time... Speaking of which, are you alright?

Daniel (off screen): Hell naw… Bowed too many times, my back…

Netaro: Ahaha, Daa looks like a catapwellier~.

Sakujiro: Ryui-san, I’m not asking you to remember all 108 commandments.

Sakujiro: At this time, you need only to drill the important parts into your head. Is that too much to ask?

Ryui: ‘S not like I can’t remember it, or some shit like that.

Sakujiro: If that is the case, what is the reason for your refusal? This is basic knowledge that is essential to being a servant.

Sakujiro: You must practice reciting them for the sake of attaining a class, mannerism, and devotion of honorable quality, drilling it into your body at a level where you unconsciously and naturally respond to—

Ryui: Like I said, that ain’t the fucking problem.

Ryui: Listen here. There’s no way I’d pledge my loyalty to anyone other than Toi.

Netaro, Nagi, Yodaka: …

Toi: Ani-sama…! To think you thought of me that way... I'm so grateful!!

Sakujiro: I see. What you are saying is that the only one you are loyal to is Toi-san?

Yodaka: “A warrior dies for those who understand him” …A wonderful phrase indeed.*

Netaro: Sigh~, but you can’t keep acting like this. Oh! Are you that? One of those people who's allergic to teamwork?

Ryui: You’re the last person I wanna hear that from.

Nagi: *shakes head* Ryui, please. I don’t wanna do Saku-san’s punishments again. It’ll be hard to run the store if I break my back.

Ryui: Fuck you, break it for all I care.

Chief: *enters* So this is where everyone was. Are you training for the HosLive……?

Yodaka: Hello, Chief. No, this is something a little different.

Daniel: Perfect timing. Couldja gimme a back massage...?

Netaro: Doudou, you have food?

Ryui: (Fucking Yowa… We’re in this shitty situation ‘cause of him, but this dickhead ain’t giving a single fuck…)

Ryui: (This all happened ‘cause yesterday, that guy—)

~~~(flashback)

Toi: Waah, What a cool mansion! It’s like a CG out of the otome game “The Black Swan’s Kaleidoscope!” Right, Ani-sama?

Ryui: Yea. That’s the 7th one you played? Should I take a picture of you from the same angle as that CG?

Nagi: Hm? It’s Ryui and Toi.

Ryui: Huh? What the hell? Don’t tell me you were also called out here?

Nagi: Yup. A letter of challenge affixed to an arrow appeared at the shop. It was from Netaro… and it told me to come here.

Ryui: An arrow…?

Yodaka: Oh, everyone else is gathered as well.

Daniel: This is just the entire night group.

Toi: Oh! It’s Yodaka-san and Danny-san! Were both of you called here as well?

Yodaka: Indeed. Via smoke signals. I have to say, the Shingen Takeda-style* smoke flare was magnificent.

Daniel: It was a carrier pigeon for me.

Toi: Ani-sama and I got a telegram!

Ryui: (For fuck’s sake, just send us a text like a normal person.)

Netaro: Oohhh, the cast is all assembled! And with not one mortal injury! Welcome welcome♪

??: Hello.

Ryui: Fuck Yowa for now… Who’s the old man?

Netaro: This is Sammy!

Sammy: I’m Sammy, nice to meet you. I’m a detective. Here’s my police badge.

Nagi: T-The real deal.

Yodaka: Hmm, so Sammy-san’s real name is Koutetsu Samejima-san?

Nagi (mumbling): T-There’s been a mistake. While it’s true Netaro might be an intergalactic trespasser, he said he’d protect the Earth and all…

Samejima: Thank you for coming all this way. Um, shall we move inside? It might be better to sit down and chat.

Toi: Yay! I wonder what the inside looks like!

Daniel: Will we make it back in time for happy hour? This better not turn out to be a pain in the ass…

Nagi: Netaro is a very good friend of mine. Well, I can’t deny that he’s lacking in Earthian common sense, and I guess sometimes he makes me partake in some pretty random stuff, but it’s not out of spite. He’s in the middle of learning about Earth and all, and—

Ryui: Oi, the fuck you mumbling about? Everyone’s already gone. Let’s get going.

Notes:

Og: 士は己を知る者の為に死す It's a Japanese idiom with Chinese origins meaning that any good person would be willing to die for someone who knows and recognizes his true worth.

a famous warlord from the sengoku era of Japan https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takeda_Shingen

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Coda: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: When parents go missing, the only witness left behind is a ten-year-old boy with autism. The team must work with him in order to figure out who might have taken his parents. Meanwhile, Emily's world is crumbling down around her and there is nothing she can do to stop it.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Sammy sits down at the piano, and Spencer follows curiously.

"Sammy, would it be all right if I sat here?" He doesn't say anything but Spencer sits anyway. Sammy puts his fingers to the keys and plays a tune. "Whoa. You've been holding out on me, Sammy."

Sammy plays the exact tune but backward, and Spencer plays the same thing but in a different chord.

"I didn't know you could play, Reid."

"I can't. I never have before, but it's essentially all math. Sammy, how about you play this note," Spencer hits a high-sounding note, "for yes, and this note," he plays a lower-sounding note, "for no. Does that sound like something you could do?" Sammy hits the high note. "Yeah, exactly. Just like that. Now, Sammy, do you remember when the man came and took your parents away?" Sammy repeatedly hits the 'yes' note before smoothly sliding into an elegant-sounding tune. "Sammy, I don't understand. Does this song mean something to you?"

Sammy pauses the tune for several seconds before slowly moving his hand toward Spencer's. He grabs his hand and puts it on the piano where the low-sounding notes are whereas he takes the high-sounding ones. Sammy plays a tune and Spencer easily plays it back to him.

Meanwhile, Penelope is running the background check on Lizzie, but nothing is coming up. She has cross-referenced every current and formerly licensed fisherman, crabman, shrimpman, and everything else in between with financial records showing default loans totaling over thirty-five thousand.

One hundred and twenty-seven names.

Not all have children but seventy-six do.

Twenty-four of those have homes in foreclosure versus other debts that might not put them out onto the streets.

Twenty-four is a better number than one hundred and twenty-seven.

You have faith that the rest of the team will be able to go through those and single out the unsub. Liz feels a bit overwhelmed with this all and walks into his bedroom. You and Rossi follow, leaving Spencer and Sammy at the piano. You walk into his room and see she's holding Sammy's picture book.

"Everything alright?"

"I'm a stranger in my own brother's house. My nephew doesn't recognize me, and then I find this." She hands over the picture book to you, and you start to flip through the pages. It's like what Ms. Rogers had but it's pictures of the family instead of random objects. "Charlie told Sammy about me. I always assumed that he'd never know who I was."

"Do you mind my asking what the fight was about?" Rossi asks.

"I was the one who suspected Sammy had autism. Charlie didn't see it. He was so upset, he kicked me out."

"How did you know?"

"He was different, so I did some research. Charlie was blind to it. He refused to accept what I found."

"He was afraid. Any father would be, learning his child isn't going to have it as easy as he did."

"You sound like you talk from experience."

Rossi doesn't comment on that. You notice something about each of the pictures. It's not just a picture book of the family. It's a book of Sammy's entire life. Everything he did down to the time he did it. Wait. Time. There is a time associated with each page. Analog clock. The L isn't an L.

It's a time.

You look at Rossi once before booking it downstairs where Spencer is.

"Spencer, look at this." He stands up and you show him the picture book. "This flip book is his daily routine. Everything he does down to the time he does it. I think he's already met the unsub, and he's trying to tell us where he met him. The L isn't a person. It's a time."

Spencer immediately clicks with what you're saying. He reaches into his bag and takes out the pictures that Sammy drew while at the police station. One is of anchors, one is of the tread on Rossi's shoes, and the last one is the L drawing. Rossi and Liz make it downstairs just as Spencer lays out the pictures.

"Sammy sees his life in pictures. He's been trying to speak with us, but he only knows how to communicate through symbols. Look, it's his language. Anchors like my socks. That's the tread on your shoes."

"What does the L mean?" Liz asks.

"It's not an L. It's a time. Three o'clock. That's the time Sammy wants us to know about, the time that he met the unsub," you say.

"Where was he at three?"

You flip through the routine book. "The music store. He goes there every day after school, and he doesn't leave until the store closes at six."

Spencer looks at his watch and rewinds the time back to three. He sits next to Sammy and shows him the watch.

"Hey, Sammy. Sammy, it's almost three. Is there someplace you should be?"

Sammy taps Spencer's watch twice. "Should be store."

He gets up and walks to the front door. Liz tries to grab him but Rossi stops her before she can make contact.

"No, no, let him go." He takes out his phone and calls Hotch. "Hotch, I think we got something."

You take Sammy to the music store where Derek is. He's checking the security footage for anyone that might be out of the ordinary. Sammy breaks off from the group and explores the store as if he's never been there before.

"Morgan, we need to fast-forward to three. If I'm right, the unsub is somewhere on this tape."

Derek does it and you can see Alison and Sammy enter the store.

"Here's when Sammy gets to the store." The music playing inside the store is rock but is immediately changed to classical. "They changed the music. Why would they do that?"

"It's for Sammy. Classical might be more comforting than rock," you say.

Sammy sits at the keyboard and plays the exact tune he was playing at the house, the one that he taught Spencer.

"Sammy's been trying to tell us who took his parents all along. At three, the song plays; the same song every day at the same time because Charlie Sparks puts the CD in at two-thirty when Sammy arrives. Sammy's never late because Sammy sticks to a schedule, a routine." At three, a man is seen entering the store. "Thirty minutes later, this man arrives. A deliveryman with a routine all of his own. We need to figure out who that is because he's our unsub."

Penelope, the genius she is, easily gets the identification of the delivery man. She connects a call to everyone.

"Former fisherman turned part-time deliveryman, saddled with more debt than he and his recently removed sons could sustain, including a foreclosing house and a defaulted boat loan. Why didn't you tell me you were looking for Bill Thomas at 1024 Elmwood Avenue?"

"What about his boat?"

"Docked in the marina."

"We're closer to the house," the sheriff says.

"We'll take the boat," Derek says and hangs up. "Let's go."

When you arrive at the marina, you can see Bill through the window of his boat. He looks like he's in distress like he never thought things could get this messy. He's way out of his league and he has no idea what he's doing.

"Bill Thomas! This is the FBI!" Bill looks up and sees your team. "Give yourself up! Your boat is surrounded!" He disappears from view and sinks further in his boat where you can't see. "We don't want anyone else to get hurt, Bill. Turn yourself in!"

He doesn't listen, as per usual.

"Alright, listen up. We move in as soon as SWAT is in position," Derek says to the officers.

"What's going on in there?" Spencer asks.

"Alison is in there," you say. "Her husband is dead."

"What?"

Charlie's spirit stands outside of the boat. You know he's dead because no one makes a move to acknowledge him. Bill panics and because of that, he is killed. A gunshot rings out and your team immediately moves in without SWAT being ready. Derek and Rossi go in first to see Alison lying on the ground next to her dead husband and Bill on the other side of the boat with a gunshot to his chest.

"Ma'am. Are you hurt?" Derek asks.

"No," she whispers and cries.

Other than a few bruises and the emotional trauma, she's going to be okay. Sammy and Liz are brought out to the marina as soon as word gets back that Alison is okay. Alison breaks down in tears when she sees her son but she holds herself back from hugging him. She falls to her knees and cries, and Sammy's hand shakes. He lifts his hand and puts it on his mother's shoulder as his way to comfort her. She takes this as a sign and hugs him with her head on his stomach. It's clear to Liz that she is never going to see her brother again, and she breaks down in tears.

Emily has been trying her best to give the team her all, but she's afraid. You've been right this entire time. She is afraid of someone. She's afraid of her life. She refuses to bring anyone from her team into this because this is her fight. She can't let you get hurt because of her past. A man from her past, Ian Doyle, has been taunting her and causing her to go paranoid.

He wants her to know he's been following her, but she's done playing his game.

She sits outside of a coffee shop and watches the water splash around in a fountain. She's been sitting at the cafe for two hours expecting Ian to show up. She tenses when she feels him at her back.

"I knew you were watching me."

"What's the expression? Keeps your friends close, your enemies under surveillance?"

"I've been here for two hours. You should know better than to keep a lady waiting."

Ian walks around to face her, and she keeps her face neutral even though she's terrified to her bones.

"It seems hypocritical, seeing as I had to wait seven years."

"Hello, Ian."

Ian sits across from her. "Hello, Lauren. Oh, wait. Lauren Reynolds died in a car accident, didn't she?"

"What do you want?"

"You." She may have her expression neutral but he can see the fear in her eyes. "Oh, not today. Don't worry about that, but soon."

"I've got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What's to stop me from taking you and the little ones out right now?"

He can't help but chuckle in amusement. "You'd never make it back to your car and you know it. Tell me, does the lovely Penelope know the truth about you? Or is she too busy watching movies with Derek to care? Here you are, all alone, while Aaron sits at home with his son. Why didn't Dave and Ashley invite you to their game night? Maybe they thought you'd be on the Metro with Y/N and Dr. Reid. Oh, that one does have some quirks. She's special, too."

Emily freezes in fear and also grows angry.

"Come near my team and I will end you."

"I don't have a quarrel with them. How long that remains the case depends entirely on you. They're innocent. You are not."

"I was doing my job."

"I think you did a little more than that. You took the only thing that mattered to me, so I'm going to take the only thing that matters to you. Your life." He sets a matchbook on the table that has a four-leaf clover on it. "Honore de Balzac once said, 'Most people of action are inclined to fatalism, and most of thought believe in Providence.' Tell me, Emily Prentiss, which do you think you're going to be?"

He leaves her alone to think about his words, and she allows a single tear to fall.

"Most people of action are inclined to fatalism and most people of thought believe in providence." - Honore de Balzac

x

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[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Creature Craft

hi! your writing’s cool :) do you have any analogical fics in the works? (my fav is queerplatonic comfort/fluff, but anything is good!) – amateurmasksmith

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: analogical

Word Count: 1848

It's a strange service. It promises to help bring out the best in you by showing you your worst so you understand yourself better. Or at least that's what he understood from the drunk rambling phone call when his friends needed another person to sign up for it so they could all get the discount. *** Virgil finds himself an unwitting participant in one of the newest magical fads: a personal spell that will create a creature just for you. The service claims to offer each participant an insight into how they fit into the world's magic, what their strengths are, what their weaknesses are, areas for improvement. The process is...more than challenging, the outcome...perplexing.

It's a strange service.

It promises to help bring out the best in you by showing you your worst so you understand yourself better. Or at least that's what he understood from the drunk rambling phone call when his friends needed another person to sign up for it so they could all get the discount.

There's a confirmation email that explains a bit more about the program. Basically, the magic is shaped over two trial periods and the spell is completed by the end date. Everyone gets together to send out their last approval and spend the rest of the night drinking and gossiping about what fun it's going to be.

A small envelope arrives two days later.

He opens it up and tips the contents into his hand. A small seed falls out along with a scrap of paper. The sees is small, innocuous, almost a rock instead of a seed. He turns the piece of paper over to reveal a small printed note that just says 'Plant Me.'

"Hello, little one," he whispers as he holds up the seed, trying to figure out what it is, "may I look after you for a little while?"

He takes the seed to the store, asks what it could be, what it needs. He gets no clear answers but recommendations. He goes from store to store, and when even that doesn't help, he turns to the internet.

He never learns what seed it is, but resolves to try his best.

The others get plant seeds too and he learns about how beautiful their plants are. He's still waiting for it to sprout, but eventually, he gets a little green shoot. He sees the pictures the others send of their plants—vibrant colors, incredible blooms, vivid green leaves. He asks what they're doing and they give him answers like: oh, I just stuck it in any old soil and water it when I remember.

I prune all the ugly parts until it looks good again.

I told it it'd better grow well and it did.

He doesn't do any of that. He waters it when it looks like it needs more, the right amount of light, eventually it begins to grow more and more and the others start clamoring for pictures. He hesitates before sending them.

Maybe you just got pranked, they say, it looks ugly.

There are thorns everywhere, oh my god.

It's monstrous.

He doesn't mind not really. He tends to it just as carefully, whispering that it's okay, you don't need to be pretty, I'll still take care of you. It grows a little more.

Then, three months after it first arrived, the plant is gone and he has an email informing him that phase one is done.

Then, a crate appears on his doorstep.

He brings it carefully inside, looks at the label from the company and the simple card. He opens it to reveal the words: 'Take Me Home.'

The box hisses.

He carefully opens it, bit by bit, only to have his eyes almost scratched out as a blur of fur comes up and out of the box and off into his apartment.

Learning how to live with a feral cat is not easy, especially one that refuses to let him see it. He quickly tarted keeping his door closed to his room and asked a local pet shelter what best to feed the cat. He kept the food open on the floor—dishes were a no-go—and did his best to set up a litter box.

He didn't learn quick enough to hide his breakable things from the cat's wrath. He lost more than a few photos and vases. The cat hisses at him, scratches him bloody, and turns the house upside down.

Still, he tries to be patient.

He moves everything dangerous out of the way. He feeds the cat, cleans up after it, and respects its space. It's claimed an old closet and drags its prizes there, camping out like some army protecting its position. It's scared, he understands, it's just trying to feel safe.

The others, who are bragging about their own impeccably trained animals, say he's just doing it wrong.

Then one day, he's cleaning the kitchen when the cat bolts along the counter and knocks off a glass. He lunges forward, just managing to catch it, as water spills everywhere. He lets out a breath and turns to set it down.

As he turns, his elbow hits his favorite mug and knocks it off. It falls to the floor and shatters.

Slowly, he sets down the glass and sinks to the floor, burying his head in his hands. All the frustration and irritation about the cat, the seed, his friends for roping him into this, all of it starts to come out ion bitter tears. Soon he's sobbing, fists pressed to his eyes.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want this, didn't want to care for a plant that grew to be monstrous, didn't want a cat that hated him and tore his house to shreds.

But how could he hold it against them? They didn't ask for this either.

For long minutes, he sits there and cries, refusing to take it out on anything other than himself, as cold tea drips to the floor.

Then something soft brushes his leg.

He moves his hands, eyes widening when he sees the cat nosing at his leg. It looks at him and does it again, for once gentle and seemingly unafraid of him, tail swishing back and forth.

Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out to offer his hand.

It sniffs it delicately and rubs its head against his palm.

"Hello, little one," he croaks, "may I look after you for a little while?"

The cat purrs.

Slowly, slowly, they learn. He gets off the floor and cleans up the remains of his shattered mug, throws it away and watches the cat walk off towards its den. It stays where he can see it that night, eating in front of him.

They navigate each other's space, understanding how to move around. Things begin to return from the den, back to the rest of the house. It begins to use the litter box, spending more time where he can see it. Sometimes he messes up. He gets scratched for his efforts but he never retaliates, always bandaging his wounds and making sure not to do it again. The cat is always wary for a while after those moments but forgives him when he leaves.

Then, one night, as he settles on the couch, it curls up in his lap and purrs.

He lowers his hand to its back slowly, as if at any minute claws will dig into his legs. But they don't and he brushes soft fur, feeling the purr intensify.

"Good kitty," he whispers, and the cat looks up at him, blinking real slow, "thank you."

He's almost sad a few days later when he comes home and the cat is gone, his apartment as though it had never been there—his favorite mug still broken, though, when he checks somewhat hysterically to make sure he hadn't imagined the whole thing—replaced with an email that says phase two is complete.

His friends are all excited, saying how they can't wait for their rewards at the end of this, ow much they've been looking forward to it. They look at him and his monstrous, feral magic and whisper that it won't end well for him.

When the final day comes, he learns that he can't make the scheduled appointment at the place because he's been called into work for an emergency. The company understands when he sends them an apologetic email, telling him that his spell needs a bit more time to settle, they were going to contact him saying as much anyway. The night before, he curls up in bed and lies awake for a while, staring at the spot on his windowsill where the plant once sat, where the cat would lie. There are deep grooves int he wood from its claws.

Despite how rough of a time he's had, he does find himself missing their presences just a little.

When he gets home from work on the day the others have their appointments, he looks at his phone and balks.

Mine tried to kill me, a friend says, it was awful! Like I would only listen if I was pinned against the wall!

They were horrifying, they had big pus filled things and warts all over them, says another, they looked like something out of a horror movie!

They stared at me and called me ugly!

They tried to order me around like I was their servant!

Thy tried to hurt me, said I was being misbehaved!

They were so mean to me, I wanted to cry.

I'm suing, they fucking ripped us off.

What happened to the nice flowers and animals? Didn't we do a good job training those?

I want those back. Those were nice. I could handle those!

He puts down the phone with shaking hands. He feels awful, the thought of his friends having to go through that, hearing all that abuse hurled at them. No one deserves that. Is it true? Is the spell a scam? It was always important to read though things first, but…

There's a smarting suspicion in the back of his mind that something more is going on here.

As he gets ready for bed that night, a horrifying thought crosses his mind.

If the others grew such beautiful plants and had such perfect animals and had spell results this awful…

…what on earth was his going to be?

Sleep doesn't come easily that night.

The company never specified when his spell results would be in, so he's caught completely by surprise when he comes home one day.

There's someone sitting in his living room.

They turn to look at him as he walks in and he breathes in sharply.

They're…they're really pretty.

Their hair is short, swept up off their face. They have glasses. They're dressed in a Henley and dark wash jeans. They look at each other in silence for a moment before he swallows, suddenly feeling terribly under dressed in his old hoodie and sneakers.

"Are…are you here for me?"

They nod and stand up.

God, they're tall.

He takes a deep breath, bracing himself to be insulted, hurt, even attacked, squaring his shoulders and setting his backpack on the floor.

They stop in front of him and he tries not to blush at how intensely they're staring at him.

….they're so fucking pretty.

Their hand moves.

Then the other.

Slowly, so slowly, and with enough tenderness that it almost threatens to make him cry, they cup his face and smile.

"Hello, little one," they murmur softly, "may I look after you for a little while?"

[merbear25]

For the Valentine's Day event, could I please get a Wolfwood from Trigun with prompt 1 "If I say I love you can I keep you forever?"

I'm so glad someone requested Wolfwood for this! I definitely think it's a cute quote to have in a story for him 😭 Thank you for requesting something! Hope you like it 💜💜

Forming close relationships wasn’t something he wanted anymore. The pain of losing them could only take so much of a toll on him before he broke, so he convinced himself that taking his leave before any attachment was formed would be for the best. It wasn’t that simple when it came to you, though.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, confession

A journey not to be taken alone (Wolfwood)

The dunes that rolled far beyond the horizon were scattered with sparse towns and lone bounty hunters. Even when there was nothing but sand, the wind carried differently as if to warn of what was soon to come. You had an eye for that—spotting them before they peaked over the curve of land in the distance sometimes.

A gift of yours he soon came to trust: when one gave such clear intentions away, he was easily caught without a reasonable excuse to get rid of you. However, close proximities and mild temperaments allowed for a budding interest between the both of you.

There were parts of him that you learned to love: his hardheadedness, habit of pushing others away, and persona he was never without. Seeing the flaws and understanding the reasons for their persistence made traveling with him more bearable.

In you, however, the flaws you held were what others would consider nothing but the best qualities: devoted, honest, and loyal to a fault. He winced at the ache he felt the longer you were around him, eventually taking off to “unwind” as he put it. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you were a good person, and that was what made all of this so hard. He was coming around to you, skating by the term friend and heading to something he was afraid to face. 

The long draws on his cigarette offered no relief to the busy mind. Staring at the ground, he realized you would never leave him, but him being able to leave you was becoming less definite.

Looking up at the sound of your feet coming towards him, he flicked his cigarette into the void below. “What’s the matter?” He blew the last puff of smoke out to the side. “Can’t sleep?”

You sat next to him and nodded at his question. “It’s kind of hard when I know you’re out here contemplating one of many things.”

A chuckle came from him. “Oh yeah? What kinds of things are those?” He absentmindedly drew pictures in the loosened sand.

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.” You watched him, not out of intention but out of habit. He often showed you who he really was in small moments like this. “You should think about getting some rest too.” Your soft tone offered a suggestion.

A long sigh passed his lips as he got more comfortable. “Yeah? It’s not like anyone is waiting for me.” The nonchalant delivery carried an underlying pain.

“I always wait for you.” There was a hint of offence taken by you, and although you tried to hide it, it was still noticeable.

He cursed at himself under his breath. “I know you do.” You didn’t say anything, for there was no reason to. Sitting outside under the stars offered more security than you ever fully realized. 

While he seemed to be enjoying the open air, the effects of it pinched at your most tender areas. You had this dreadful feeling that he was going to be gone relatively soon. Something came over you, like a final cry to make him understand what he meant to you.

"If I say I love you can I keep you forever?" The sincerity and tinge of fear in your question barely phased him. He savored it, letting his mind mull over the consequences that would entail if he reciprocated your affection.

“You don’t want that, trust me.” Leaning back on his arms, his gaze held on the flickering stars above.

“I do though…” You had already known he would respond like this: refusing that he was worth sticking your neck out for.

“No, no, you only think you do. But, believe me when I say that we’re better off going our separate ways.” The last few words fell out of his mouth with a thud. Saying it outloud didn’t give him the peace of mind he thought it would. He shifted his weight, wincing from the situation he’d just imagined—a future without you anywhere to be found.

Without saying anything, the truth in his own wants and needs shined through. You moved a little closer to him, so that your hand was placed right next to his. Neither of you turned to face the other, but you could see each other as clear as day. The silence between you wasn’t deafening, but instead gave you space to explore how you felt about each other. There was no action to be taken in his words, because you understood him better than that. Being there with him like this was how you could get through to him that you weren’t going anywhere. It was also the only way he wasn’t going to fight you on.

He didn’t take his eyes off the nighttime sky. The lights above twinkled with the life that they never truly had. A half smile appeared on his face as he inched his pinky finger to yours. Feeling you wrap yours around him gave a sense of solitude that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Remnants of the past crept up on him and lingered in the forefront. Even though you didn’t see it, you could feel his smile falling.

The mood shifted as he prepared himself. “You know it will never be easy with me.”

“When is it ever?” The airy delivery meant your acceptance.

“And you’re aware it will only get worse.”

“Fully.”

A gentle breeze carried over the desert landscape, bringing a chill that made you forget about the heat from earlier. However, neither of you succumbed to the prickling bumps spreading over your bodies, instead embracing the inevitable change to come. You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a deep sigh.

“It’s freeing, isn’t it?”

“How do you figure?”

“Knowing that there’s something to anchor you when life tries to take you away.”

He thought for a moment, letting that sensation sink in. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

[jellyfishandry]

Platonic soulmates w/ Katsuki Bakugo Pt. 2

Part 1

CW: Aroace Katsuki, platonic relationship, not a soulmates au, gn reader, platonic bkdk (sorta), some jealousy, swearing, mentions of violence, reader has a quirk

A/N: Part two... In total this is over 1k words. I think it's safe to say that I like this.

Sometimes he comes to you and asks what he can do to be a better friend to Izuku and the rest of 1A. He knows you’re not going to make jokes about it, and that you’ll give him heartfelt advice.  And he knows that you’ll keep private conversations private, no matter how many of your classmates ask or annoy you.  When y’all aren’t in school or training, he likes to hangout in your dorm, or have you hangout in his. But he tends to prefer yours.  It comforts him in a way he cannot describe.  Maybe it’s the pictures of the two of you that you have taped on your walls, or maybe it’s the little gifts he’s given you that live on a shelf above your bed, and that he can never find a spec of dust on.  And when the two of you study together, he insists on dragging the chair from his room to yours so you both can sit at the desk.  There have probably been a few times where the two of you fell asleep together while hanging out.  Aizawa was certainly not happy. He won’t admit it, but during those few times, he got some of the best sleep.  If class 1A has a movie night or something, he insists on sitting next to you, and well get mad if he can’t.  “They’re the most tolerable.” He claims, but everyone knows that he just blatantly likes you the most.  He has some embarrassing pictures of you on his phone, and thinks they’re hilarious.  But if you pull out the stupid photos of him, he gets very embarrassed.  He calls you a weirdo when he finds out that you have a whole folder dedicated to pictures of him, and he acts like he doesn’t have a photo album of you too.  He has an Instagram account, and no other social media.  He doesn’t post anything, but he likes every post you’ve ever made.  If you get any weird or disrespectful comments, he will not hesitate to insult the fuck out of them.  Although he does get a little embarrassed and defensive when you post anything about him. He enjoys the affectionate act, and he’s glad that you’re willing to admit you’re friends with him. He does get teased about it by your classmates, but he’s somewhat tolerable of it.  Hugs are not something he thinks about often, but he’ll never say no if you want to hug him.  He occasionally gets jealous if you hug someone else “too much.”  He’d rather you hug him than anyone else, but he tells himself that it’s a stupid thing to feel jealous over.  He’s secretly a “that’s my best friend not yours.” person. If you go to the zoo or aquarium, he loves to come along so he can spend more time with you and see cool animals.  He likes foxes because of the weird ass sounds they make.  He’ll follow you around occasionally, and it’s just because he likes your presence.  Some of your classmates have pointed it out and called him a “lost puppy” only for him to yell at them. As much as he wants to refuse that he’s a “nerd,” he’ll take time to understand every part of your quirk, including your strengths and weaknesses. He gets mad when you beat him during training, but he’s not actually that torn up about it. He’s your biggest supporter, and he feels stronger when you cheer him on during training or fights. 

Extra:

If you crochet, he’ll love with anything you make him.  But if you crochet a little plush of him in his hero costume, he’ll pretty much go nuts. He puts it in his room and refuses to let anyone touch it. He uses it as “evidence” of who’s your favorite.  “Well they made a plush of me, not you, so I think it’s pretty obvious who they like the most.”

|| Navigation ||

[russadler]

Hi hello dear!

Do you have any hc of Adler if he had a pet? (Could be any kind of pet!) I love domestic hc 😭❤️

okay i’m so glad you asked because I am VERY passionate about this subject thank u

russell adler pet headcanons 🐾

You always hear the saying that goes something along the lines of “There’s nothing more special than a boy and his dog.” and that’s the kind of relationship Adler had with his childhood dog.

He had a childhood dog that he really saw as his best friend when he was really, really young (I’d say from age 6 to about maybe age 12) like that!!! that was his buddy!!!

The breed was something pretty typical for a well to do American family at the time — like a Golden Retriever or Labrador Retriever but definitely a medium to large breed for sure.

When that dog passed he was pretty devastated and his parents decided not to get another for various reasons, but that dog left an impression on him for the rest of his life.

For the very brief period of time that he considered having a family, he always imagined a dog of a similar breed/type in the picture. It was a VERY important part of the family dynamic for him.

He and his ex-wife did end up getting a Labrador puppy, probably in a desperate bid to make her happy when things were getting rocky, but it just wasn’t the same.

He was rarely home, and barely saw either of them. It ended up becoming a sad reminder of the state of their marriage. The dog ended up providing more comfort and companionship to her than he ever did.

When they divorced, she took the dog with her and he hasn’t seen it since, but Adler still thinks of him time and hopes he had a good life with his ex.

He recognizes after his divorce that having a pet was unrealistic. He was never home, and their would be no one to take care of it. It would be unfair to subject any animal to that.

As Adler grows older though he very much comes to enjoy the company of cats, probably equal to or even more so than dogs. He appreciates their independence and the quiet company they provide.

Will definitely stop and pet stray animals if he’s not actively on a mission, but lowkey does it in secret because he doesn’t want people he’s a softie.

He’s a bit more wary of dogs though due to the fact that they get used for guard/attack work a lot, but cats? Adler will for sure stop and pet them, especially if they ask for pets!

Did I mention he becomes more of a cat guy once he gets older? Because at a certain point as much as he loves dogs he only really sees himself having a cat in his home.

There’s a lovely stray tomcat that wanders on to his property in Langley that he begrudgingly becomes pals with but he refuses to take in.

Makes a pact with the old lady next door to make sure it gets fed and taken care of when he’s not around. Even gets it neutered and vaccinated so the cat stops getting into fights with other tomcats and so he won’t catch any diseases.

Refuses to acknowledge it as his cat though (He secretly names it “Bud” or something along those lines) but also doesn’t say anything when the old lady next door calls it his cat.

Greets ‘Bud’ every time he comes home from a deployment.

Anything apart from a dog or a cat he doesn’t see himself owning. Things like birds or reptiles he honestly doesn’t entirely understand and are very high maintenance, but if he had a partner that owned either I think he’d learn to love them in his own way.

A bit weirded out by the concept of owning something like a snake or a spider, but would keep a respectful distance and diligently take care of them if asked by his partner (he values anything his partner does as if it were his own)

Is also the typical ‘I didn’t want this pet but I will become best friends with it’ guy.

I could literally talk about Adler and animals all day this is literally pandora’s box

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 36 - Lost

What went before

If you’re new to this madness It might make sense to read at least chs 28 & 29 to meet Bez and find out what Scott’s deal with dogs is… and maybe 35 as that happens literally just before this and will explain why he’s wobbly. Alternatively, yolo - dive in and see if you can make any sense of this mad little scene which wasn’t even in the plot outline but once I pictured it refused to be left out. ☺️

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Despite the early hour, the streets were busy with folk on whatever missions drew them out into the late spring sunshine. Most of these appeared to involve heading downhill, towards the seafront, but at a frustratingly ambling pace.

Bez carved a path through the crowd and Estera weaved her way behind while Scott, unused to feeling like the bulky member of a duo, tried to follow in her wake before the gaps closed after her. He found himself continually apologising to the various beach-equipment-laden people he bumped with a shoulder or an elbow.

Of course if he considered them a trio, he’d arguably have to concede the majority of the bulk was with the four legged one… even without the floof, the Pyr was a wall of muscle that even Virgil might think twice about opposing.

Despite that, and despite the extreme drool and (he suppressed the urge to shiver at the thought) the perfectly-normal-amount-of-teeth-for-his-species… Scott was beginning to genuinely warm to the creature. Not least because in the half hour following Scott’s embarrassing wobble and their ‘moment’ of understanding over his drool-soaked peace offering, Bez had barely left Scott’s side.

Though he would deny it vehemently to most anyone who asked, it was kind of comforting being shadowed by a giant teddy bear. Solid, mostly immovable, but enthusiastically (overwhelmingly) affectionate. As long as you didn’t try to make him do anything he hadn’t already decided to, Bez was pretty much benign. Kind of a cross between Virgil before 9am and Gordon on a sugar high, he mused, only rather hairier and maybe marginally less coherent…

Yeah it was going pretty well. The faint scratching at the edge of his consciousness was ignorable. Hopefully if he could handle a dog this size, then others would become ok too and he would get back to a place where they didn’t even have to be a consideration. He just needed to get enough of a grip on himself not to completely fall apart when he was taken by surprise…

He felt a hot little prickle of shame flow through his face as he recalled Edith’s concerned face at the window. It had barely registered at the time but she must have heard Estera call out to him. If only he’d managed to get inside before… ugh. Strangely he couldn’t find he was so bothered by Estera seeing that kind of weakness in him... perhaps because she had before. But other people… he couldn’t afford for other people to know. It wasn’t… just… no. He needed to be stronger than that.

He was sure he hadn’t made a sound but Estera suddenly gave him a look over her shoulder, a mildly raised eyebrow and then a slight frown as if she could hear the direction his thoughts were taking and disapproved.

He gave her his best reassuring smile.

She smiled faintly back, clearly unconvinced, but was forced to return her attention to not falling over a large pushchair that stuck out across their path.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he was being too hard on himself… after all it was always going to be a tricky day. Perhaps the trickiest in a string of hard days in the hardest season - the time of year when he was less able to ignore the quiet truth that despite being rescued there was a little part of him that had always remained lost.

But the rest of him was alive and so was she. And the air was warm and the sky was blue. He took a deep appreciative breath then mumbled another apology as he twisted sideways to edge past a person hefting two enormous drinks coolers and a large rucksack.

Anyway, he refocused his wandering mind, it was good to have Bez there, because any passers by who might have any attention to spare them were looking at the enormous white dog-mountain and not the awkwardly tall man with the face people often seemed to find oh-so-familiar. As ever, he was hiding behind his beloved aviators and a nondescript baseball cap but for once he felt perhaps he didn’t need to. That felt good too.

He chuckled as Estera put on a sudden spurt of speed, dragged forwards by her beloved hellhound then startled as they unexpectedly veered to the right down a side street. Scott, unable to change direction in time was carried along by the crowd for a few moments before he was able to battle his way back up the narrow sidewalk, apologising still more as he pushed against the flow.

He found his friend crouched in front of a tiny child who was sobbing out a garbled explanation of why she’d let go of her brother’s hand and how badly she wanted her mama and daddy. Bez had curled himself around her back and she seemed entirely unworried by this despite the dog being taller than she was. In fact Scott could see a small hand clinging tightly to the longer fur by the his neck.

Scott dropped to his knees next to Estera “Hey there, we’ll find them for you. What’s your name?”

The little girl peered up at him and wailed:

“T-T-Twaceee. I’s Twacy an’ ‘m lost!”

Huh. What were the chances of that?

He looked at Estera and she nodded agreement. Leaving them there, the little girl having buried her face back in Bez’s furry shoulder while Estera chatted soothingly. The cars were moving fairly slowly and he rated his chances of being seen reasonably highly, what with the height and all. He hopped off the kerb and jogged down the road, calling out to people as he passed:

“Excuse me, has anyone lost a Tracy?”

“We have a little girl called Tracy back there, does anyone know…?

“I need to find Tracy’s parents?”

“Sorry, I’m looking for Tracy’s Mom and Dad?”

“Tracy’s Mommy and Daddy? No?”

“Tracy? I have a lost Tracy?”

Some sympathetic looks but not a glimmer of recognition. This wasn’t working. And he was getting too far away. He stopped and waited for a cyclist to swerve around him then yelled at the top of his voice:

“I NEED TRACY’S PARENTS!”

Scott paused, suddenly overcome by a hollow feeling in his gut and a bitter taste on his tongue.

He huffed a small laugh to himself. Didn’t he just?

He rounded a corner and came upon a kerfuffle up ahead as people tried to bypass a blockage on the sidewalk. In moments the blockage resolved itself into a wild eyed and clearly panicking couple dragging an overladen trolley and a slightly older child in a large sunhat who was dragging his feet with an air of mutiny. He didn’t really need further confirmation but the man’s gasp of “Did you say Tracy? Thank God!” provided it anyway.

Excited giggles greeted them as they rounded the corner and then at a high pitched cry of “Skacz! Łapa!” Bez leaped into the air then landed on all fours and shook himself vigorously.

“Well done! He likes you!” Estera patted her on the back and little Tracy clapped in delight. The smaller of Scott’s companions pushed past and ran over to join them.

“Bez! Miss H!”

“Oh hello, Jeff!” She looked up and smiled warmly. “Is this your little sister?”

“Your kids are Jeff and Tracy?!” Scott’s reaction slipped out before he could stop himself.

Belatedly recognising the young lad from the rescue and worried he might recognise him in turn, Scott tugged at the peak of his cap and slouched a little. Fortunately Jeff was entirely absorbed by ruffling Bez’s ears.

The father laughed and tilted his head with a fond smile towards his partner who was fussing over their toddler. Tracy seemed disinclined to be parted from her new bestest fwend and the pouting bottom lip trembled as Estera called him to heel.

“The missus is a bit of a fan.”

Scott summoned the pleasant, professional smile he used time and again when forced to pretend to strangers that he was entirely comfortable with the topic of conversation.

“He was a great man.”

“He’s not dead.” The woman cut in forcefully without looking up.

Scott blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t say ‘was’. He’s definitely still alive. That leaked explosion footage was a deep fake. The GDF were trying to silence him before he exposed widespread corruption in the World Government and so he had to go undercover to escape. It’s pretty common knowledge, is all over the internet.”

Well. That… that was a new one. Scott made a mental note to have a little chat to John about what filters were being applied to his weekly media summaries.

How on earth to respond though? Should he correct her? Agree? Laugh? They should have a Line for things like this. He should definitely say SOMETHING but all words escaped him and the best he could do was force a generic interested noise around the lump in his throat. The dog brushed against the back of his legs and pushed a damp nose into his limp hand.

“Now love, not everybody is as committed to the conspiracy websites as you are.”

“They aren’t conspiracy sites!”

Estera coughed and interrupted to apologise but said they had an urgent appointment. When had her hand tucked around his arm? He wasn’t sure but was grateful it was there - at least now despite the sudden light headedness he might not float away. He echoed her hurried goodbyes and they returned, side by side this time, to the busy main street.

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Next: Chapter 37 - Warmup