#this was the first post on my dash and it scared me so badly

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I see Furina, Navia, Lynette, and Yae Miko dealing with their S/O who wears a mask all the time and never seen your face before? S/O got hurt badly protecting them and they took S/O mask off and see what S/O looks like and help them.

(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette with a S/O who wears a mask

This is the way. I'd do Yae but my brain is at maximum capacity writing for the three, so remind me to write Yae later!

POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT!

Furina had become very used to the sight of her S/O's mask.

It was reminiscent of a theatre mask, fittingly enough. The holes for the eyes were completely black, and there was no expression for the mouth.

No one could identify what S/O was feeling, other than determining it by voice alone.

Many people found it suspicious, but she wasn't one to judge.

Especially since Furina herself wore a metaphorical mask for the past few centuries.

And besides, there were far more suspicious people in Tevyat than the one person just covering their face.

Furina had grown to love S/O since they did the same for her. They cared for the person underneath the facade, and Furina did the same.

During their travels, they had come under attack by rogue Meka and were caught off guard.

Although Furina cannot not die, S/O very much could, and had gotten terribly injured during the skirmish.

===

(Furina) "S/O!"

Furina quickly dispatched the last Meka with her vision, a burst of Hydro sending it tumbling into the waters below in pieces.

S/O had finished off their attackers with a sword bisecting the machine. However, they were breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby rock, sliding down.

The mask betrayed nothing of what they felt, but she could tell they were hurt.

Panic began to set in Furina's head, quickly scrambling to help. Her eyes glowed a bright blue before a familiar appeared next to S/O, healing the worst of their injuries.

(Furina) "S/O, are you okay?!"

Her usual bravado was absent though it was slowly starting to come back when she saw their breathing begin to steady itself.

(S/O) "Could....be worse, thanks."

Furina's hand placed itself onto her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

(Furina) "Thank goodness! Come now, we shall get ourselves some rest and-"

A red stream trickled down S/O's face, coming from underneath the mask and catching her attention.

(Furina) "Your head! Allow me to-"

Furina's hand stopped itself as it quickly reached for their mask. She had never seen S/O without it, and she wasn't sure if they wanted to be seen with it off.

Silently answering her, S/O's hand gently reached up to her arm, and nodding.

(S/O) "Not a word of this to anyone."

Furina gave them a weary smile.

(Furina) "It depends on how handsome/pretty you are, S/O."

Hearing their pained chuckle, Furina slowly took off the mask and saw their face for the first time. She couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before moving to clean the blood from their head.

It scared her so much to see them hurt, but it was also comforting to see them give her a reassuring smile back, and to see those eyes staring back into hers for the first time.

(S/O) "...D-Don't just stare at me like that, Furina."

(Furina) "How could I not? You look incredible, simply marvelous!"

(S/O) "Even with blood gushing out of me?"

(Furina) "Hah, especially so. It makes you look rather dashing."

S/O could tell she was joking, as her hands were still gripping tightly onto theirs from worry.

(S/O) "Once I actually look presentable and not beat up, you can stare all you like."

(Furina) "I will hold you to that. Now, let's get you cleaned up!"

Furina not so subtly stared at S/O on the way back, smiling back when S/O noticed her and broke off eye contact. How cute!

Navia did raise an eyebrow at S/O upon first meeting, but she quickly became accustomed to it.

It's not like she dressed all that subtly herself after all.

And besides, what matters the most about a person is what's on the inside!

And to Navia, S/O was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet, weird mask aside.

She did not pry on their reason for wearing it, only wanting to ask when the time seemed right.

But that time came quicker than she thought after a dangerous encounter with bandits.

===

(Navia) "Feeling lucky?!-"

Her umbrella gun's blast blew away the ground the bandits were standing on, sending them flying back.

After seeing them retreat after dealing with the remaining ruffians, she smirked in satisfaction.

(Navia) "Serves you punks right, now get out of here! Hah! S/O, did you-"

Turning back to brag about her skills to S/O, she suddenly noticed that they weren't responding, and worst of all, they were on the ground with red on their hands.

Navia stopped breathing for a split second before nearly sprinting over to them, quickly lifting them up.

(Navia) "No! No no no, please, no!"

(S/O) "...N-Navia-"

(Navia) "Please, stay with me! I can't lose you too!"

Navia's hand brushed against the side of their head, her eyes welling up with tears as her heart raced.

S/O's hands wiped away the tears from her face before speaking up.

(S/O) "I'll live. They just grazed me. Promise."

(Navia) "Y-You...You better...!"

S/O slowly reached for their mask and took it off to look Navia in the eye. A small amount of blood came from their lips, but they thankfully displayed no signs of bleeding out.

Navia stared wide eyed at the sight of their face, taking it in. This was the first time she had ever seen them with it off, and this was not the time she was expecting to.

(S/O) "S-See? Heh, perfectly fine...OW!"

Navia suddenly grabbed their face, squishing it repeatedly with one hand as she rubbed off the blood with her thumb.

(Navia) "Why...Why in the world did you not take that off sooner?! You're simply breathtaking!"

(S/O) "Becushyewd'dewdis!" (Because you'd do this!)

They could not form the sentence correctly with how Navia's hands were squishing their cheeks together, as if she were squeezing a ball.

S/O gently grabbed Navia's wrist and lifted it off their face, chuckling lightly.

(S/O) "Not that I don't mind your hand on me, but can you at least do so without feeling me up like a toy?"

(Navia) "A-Ah, my apologies! You're hurt as well, so we need to get you to a doctor!"

Throughout the trip, S/O caught Navia taking several glances to examine their face.

Lynette had kept her eye on S/O the moment she heard rumors about a masked individual going around Fontaine.

She had learned to watch out for any signs of danger in a person, especially if it concerned herself or Lyney.

What had shocked her the most was that S/O had displayed no reason to distrust them, other than the mask.

In fact, they were one of the most trusting people she had met, looking into any information about them, nothing about their past was particularly alarming.

So that meant their reasons for wearing the mask was less to conceal an identity and more personal.

The two had gotten to know each other after S/O was found taking care of a few stray cats around the city, both of them quietly enjoying their time.

After that, it became a lunch or two, and a few conversations here and there.

Eventually, it blossomed into something more as the two spent time, neither of them fully revealing everything about their past.

S/O didn't pry, so Lynette didn't either. At least not after she got to know the person behind the mask.

But after S/O had saved her from rather vicious wildlife...

===

S/O and Lynette took a moment to breathe, escaping to higher ground from the creatures attacking them.

(Lynette) "That was too close. S/O, thanks for-"

Her ears turned sideways as she realized there was blood falling from S/O's head.

(Lynette) "You're bleeding! Sit down!"

(S/O) "O-Ow...No need to tell me twice."

S/O almost collapsed before Lynette caught them, slowly making them lean against a nearby rock as she grabbed their mask.

She took it off without thinking and was stunned by seeing their face for the first time.

Her ears immediately straightened up as the words got caught in her throat. Lynette almost forgot what she was doing until seeing the blood trickle down.

S/O made no motion to stop her, only giving her a small smile that made her heart race even faster. After cleaning the injury on their head, she averted her gaze.

(Lynette) "...Sorry. I should have asked first."

(S/O) "You were worried, so you acted. If anything, I'm flattered."

Hearing their voice so clearly was messing with her head. To finally connect their soothing voice to a face was almost unnatural to her. Part of her was convinced that she'd never actually see it, at least not this soon.

(S/O) "You told me quite a bit about yourself and Lyney already, I think it's about time I returned the favor, anyway."

Lynette returned their smile, albeit hers was not as big.

(Lynette) "I suppose that's a fair trade."

She was finally able to look them in the eye for a few seconds before putting the mask back into their hands.

(Lynette) "...You should have that mask off more often."

(S/O) "I'll do that if you promise me you'll do the same...As long as it's only the two of us."

Her ears twitched for a brief moment, processing what they were asking.

She sincerely doubted at this point they were the type to blabber about anything they were told, something she was thankful for.

And if she got to see the true them, maybe that wasn't the most outrageous demand they could make.

Lynette had seen worse deals, anyway.

(Lynette) "Only for the two of us."

S/O responded by holding her hand tightly, and she responded in kind.

(Lynette) "First, we need to get back to the city. I've had enough outdoors for today."

(S/O) "Heh, agreed."

On the way back, Lynette could not keep her eyes off their face and felt a tad disappointed watching them put it back on as they reached civilization again.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Please can you do platonic 141 x reader x romantic(??) Ghost where the reader is addicted to painkillers? Like going through a pack per day and practically inhaling them before and after a mission. Its something went under the radar but somehow came to their attention Thank you!! xx

(Its ok if your not comfortable writing this)

a/n: sorry this took forever to post! I’ve been on a break recently to have a social interaction month I guess and things have slipped- also I’m quite alright with writing this! Tell me if I messed anything up of course as always because it’s my first time writing for lots of things

ghost:

-feels utterly horrid for not realizing the details, for gods sake he was dating you! He should have picked up on it, he should have done something, he should have! It makes him sick to his stomach that he wasn’t the first one to notice either

-it was gaz who told him, gaz… it made him feel so guilty that he hadn’t noticed before others did. Apparently gaz had noticed the little signs before him and had caught you after you had downed a pack of the medbays stored pain meds that were supposed to be lock

-was half scared to talk to you about it, but knew he couldn’t make it worse. So when you both luckily got some time off, he sat you down and held you close and just… talked. No special goal; just talking. And then he got you to sign up for some mental and physical help to work on getting off meds that he was so worried about you because of

gaz:

-froze in place when he saw you in the med bay. Sure he had expected something for quite a while, ever since you joined the team in fact he could clock something was off with you but he chalked it up to him being overly worried

-that was quite a bit ago, and you two have been good friends for so long now that he had grown blind to little warning signs

-he was frozen for a long time just looking, taking in the idea of someone he cared so much doing something he didn’t expect. Not that it was your fault, but it was truly unexpected

-he didn’t know what else to do so he dashed knowing you hadn’t saw him and told ghost, but didn’t think to tell price or soap

soap:

-wasn’t told till you were on break to get off painkillers, and utterly livid nobody had told him!! He wanted so so badly to comfort you but knew you probably didn’t need extra events during recovery, so he waited on his nerves end until you came back to base and utterly showered you in gifts as soon as you got back, chocolate, snacks, gifts galor

-he wanted to make up for not knowing, for not being able to help or reach you before hand, and gifts seemed to be the best way. He’s just always so glad your here and that you are getting better, albeit slowly

price:

-ghost had told him the day after your talk, and he was just utterly shocked, even more so then gaz to be honest… and he felt so guilty, why? Because he had brushed off the medbay nurses reports of missing pain meds for months thinking it was nothing big

-he’s your captain! He’s supposed to watch out for you, he’s supposed to be there for his team, that’s his damn job

-laswell had to slap him out of guilt to get him back in shape, and he promptly gave you and ghost the next month off, but made sure ghost would update him

[sleepykye]

Injured Muichiro

Break is finally over ?!?!?!

Looks like work is coming soon again then !

You searched hard as you ran through the forest. Your hair messy, your clothes torn, but most importantly, your worn out.

You couldn't go on longer but you were determined to find Muichiro. You heard the kakushis said that they couldn't find Muichiro at all. You were worried sick about him, no way are you just gonna leave him in the woods alone with no one to care for him. Especially if he could be injured.

You huffed as you searched the woods. Suddenly, you heard a howl. It scared the wits out of you, but you were determined to find Muichiro. You couldn't let a sound a animal stop you in your tracks of locating Muichiro could you now ?

" Y/n ! We found Muichiro-san ! "

You looked towards kakushi as she led you towards where Muichiro was. You saw a tint of mint blue as you dashed straight towards where you saw it at. The kakushi tried to catch up but to no avail, she couldn't. You saw Muichiro badly wounded as you looked at the demon decapitated, slowly disintegrating. You noticed the eye said upper moon 5. You were shocked that Muichiro, at age 14 could defeat a upper ranked demon. You were proud of him indeed.

You quickly took the bandage you had out of your pocket as you started to unbutton his shirt. You were a bit nervous as you were about to see him shirtless. But just then, his hand swatted yours away as he slowly opened his eyes. He turned as pale as a ghost when he realised that it was your hand which he swatted away at. You could tell he was apologising deep inside and decided to continue on to unbutton his shirt.

You bandaged the wound as you noticed the cut the demon made was quite a big one. You weren't sure if he could die of blood loss at any moment now, but you weren't certain. So you decided to borrow one of those machines that can transfer blood from the kakushis. Your blood type was the same as his, so surely you could donate some blood.

The kakushi nearby helped inject the needle into your arm and into Muichiros arm as the kakushi activated the machine. You could feel the blood coming out of your hand as you watched the blood flow to a bag that flowed to Muichiros' arm. You were relieved when Muichiro opened his eyes again. You didn't notice you were holding your breath as your forehead was covered in sweat as you couldn't help but felt nervous if Muichiro would've died, just now.

"Y/n.. thank you for donating your blood to me."

Was all Muichiro said before he put his hand on your head and gave you a soft pat and smiled gently at you. You actually felt that your master was kind to you after so long. He was always so mysterious and harsh during training, but during these intimate moments, you can witness his truly kind and gentle manner like the gentle rays of sun after a spending a long time in the dark forests which gloomed of darkness and evil in them.

Tears started trickling down your face as you hugged Muichiro tight and you could feel him wrapping his arms around you trying to calm you down. His injuries were deep enough to put him in pain, but here he is, comforting you when he is the one in pain. You were truly grateful you have got such a kind and caring master like him after all. You did not regret accepting his offer to be his tsugko at all. You take back every thought you had about him after the first training. He is definitely different this time.

– 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 –

Waaaah ! I finally finished this !

This was meant to be posted before my exams started but oh well...

Ehehehe...

Anyway ! Break is over and I'll be glad to take requests anytime now ! 🥲

I forgot to say that this is NOT proofread ! 🙅‍♀️

[vaseoflilies]

Elysian Fields Chapter 2: Forget It

warning: nothing too intense a/n: this is cross posted on AO3 if you're interested!!

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

This time, you awoke screaming.  

Your leg felt like it was on fire, and while your mind was clearer, your body ached. The sight of your pale, tear-stained face in the large mirror in front of you scared you. Where were you? What happened? Why did everything hurt? Should you try to leave? No, you needed to leave.

Nothing in the room stood out except for the expensive-looking shoji doors and the IV stand, from which two bags of saline were hanging. The floor appeared to be hardwood, but there were a few red stains near the entrance. As you looked around, the doors slid open. You haphazardly grabbed your thigh in pain, making whimpering noises so pathetic that you couldn’t believe they were coming from you.

You felt a wave of fear when a person walked in - a diminutive woman wearing a familiar blue kimono. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she muttered, her voice as soft as a whisper. She gently closed the doors behind her and approached your side. “You’re safe. Everything is okay. Do you remember what happened?”

Her words brought a slight calm over you. However, your leg didn’t share the sentiment. “Fuck,” you groaned, clawing at the blanket with your newly manicured nails. When did that happen? “Why is it burning so badly?”

Her eyebrows rose, and she quickly moved to remove the blanket covering your leg. “My apologies,” she said, bowing slightly as she began to readjust your bandages. “The doctor tied them quite tight when she changed them earlier. How does it feel now?”

The pain decreased dramatically. “Thank you,” you managed to cough out, prompting her to bring a glass of water from the bedside to your lips. “Who are you? Where am I?”

She gave you a soft smile and gently brushed the wisps of hair from your face. Oddly enough, you let her. “You’re safe,” she reassured you. She helped you sit up slightly and took the braid out of your hair. You eyed her carefully in the mirror. “You have been rescued and are now in the hospital. I am your nurse, Jun.”

Rescued? Surprisingly, you couldn’t recall much about how you ended up here in the first place. “What happened?” Your brow furrowed as you contemplated the situation and examined your leg. “I was injured, wasn’t I?”

You only had a vague sense of your identity. 

You could still remember your family, your childhood village, and your name. A few familiar faces caught your eye, but you couldn’t associate them with their names. You remembered the sensation of mud in the rain and a burning rage. There was a flash of memory of you waking up for the first time and slapping Jun’s hand away. Beyond that, you were lost.

“Yes,” she slowly nodded, finishing the braid. “You’re very lucky to be alive right now.”

Taking a sharp breath, you said, “Just give it to me straight.” You crossed your hands on your lap, bracing yourself for the worst. “Tell me what happened.”

She moved to the corner of the room, where a large brass bell sat. “That’s not my place,” she said, picking up the bell and ringing it. You winced at the loud sound. “I’m just your nurse.”

Shortly after, an elderly woman with flecks of gray hair appeared. She was dressed in a considerably lighter kimono that bordered on being almost greenish-blue. Her obi was exquisite, featuring floral stitches and cream-colored silk. Despite her beautiful clothing, the woman entered the room with a sour expression, as if she had just eaten something rotten.

“This better be important,” she said to Jun, who bowed and apologized for the interruption. “Ah.”

Her eyes met yours, and she offered a small smile. However, the way her lips moved suggested that it wasn’t genuine, which made you wonder what was wrong. “You’re not planning to remove your IV and dash down the halls, are you?”

Her words helped you piece together some details from the first time you woke up. Nothing hurt except for the itch from the IV, but you remembered feeling almost paralyzed with fear. What had terrified you? Talking to Jun had helped alleviate your fear because she was gentle and seemed trustworthy. But remembering how you felt and not being able to recall why made the fear creep back up like a vine.

��No,” you sighed, lost in thought. “I felt like I was dreaming; I was so out of it. Yet, there was this piercing fear that told me to run.”

With pity in her eyes, Jun took your hand in hers. The woman, who you assumed to be the doctor, pursed her lips and wore a skeptical expression. “Fear, huh?” She adjusted your IV stand and moved over to your wounded thigh. “You may call me Dr. Isha. Now, tell me, what do you remember?”

You winced as she began unwrapping your bandages. You shared your name, your age, and basic details of your life before pausing. “I had to go somewhere, I think. Somewhere important. Somewhere that took me a long time by foot.”

You gasped slightly upon seeing your bandages undone, revealing a large gash running from your knee to your inner thigh. Stitches were woven between the cuts, molding the flesh together. A good part of it had already healed, but a section on the inner thigh looked fresher. “During your fun rendezvous, you broke the stitches,” she grumbled as she took out a thick gel and applied it to the wounds. “You’ve certainly been an interesting patient.”

Jun gave your hand a tighter squeeze at her words. For whatever reason, you liked Jun. Her presence was comforting. Though, in the back of your mind, you felt bad about swatting her hand away in the cafeteria. You made a mental note to apologize later. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said as she got out a bandage and began rewrapping your leg. “It’s my fault for not having someone watch you around the clock.”

“Is everything okay, sensei?” Jun asked, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been practicing in the clinic. If you need me to, I can take it from here.”

“Nonsense,” Dr. Isha began, her tone tense. “My personal feelings will not interfere with my work, understand?”

“Yes, sensei.”

The room was unusually quiet as she worked, except for your winces and slight moans of pain as she tightened the bandages. Why was Dr. Isha so tense with you? What else had you done that made her dislike you? “Did Jun make you aware of your injuries?”

You shook your head as she tied the last bandage.

“You cut your femoral artery and struck your head,” she stated rather bluntly. “You were attacked by a bear in the forest. No wonder you were scared.”

You were not expecting that.

Attacked by a bear? That explains the debilitating fear. But why does it linger? Does it have to do with the injury? Jun gave the doctor a stern look before handing you another glass of water. “What she means to say is that you are very lucky to be alive and we are glad you are here with us today.”

Dr. Isha raised her eyebrows mockingly. “To be blunt, you have been in a coma for several months.” Jun patted you on the back as you choked on the water. “We do not have all of the technology in this hospital, so your case was difficult to manage. You awoke occasionally, if only for a few minutes, aggressive and unable to understand what others were saying.”

You remained silent. What could you even say to that? Jun seemed to understand and rubbed your back soothingly. Just how much have you let yourself go through?

“Where is this hospital anyway?” You attempted to sit more upright, your leg aching. “What area are we in?”

Dr. Isha moved to the IV stand again and began taking your vitals as Jun spoke. “You’re in Paradise now,” she said, giving you a big, dimpled smile. “I think you will be happy here.”

Paradise? You didn’t remember if that was on a map or not. “Is that near Okinawa?”

Dr. Isha laughed loudly as she removed the IV from your arm and applied a bandage. You let out a slight hiss. “We are in the mountains, but do not worry; Paradise can be found even in the harshest climate.”

She smiled sincerely this time, which you found unsettling. “What do you mean?” As she finished checking your vitals and removing your IV, you gently stretched your arms. You felt better, if not hungry. “Are we in…”

“No, we are in Aokigahara.”

“The forest region?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised. That was a rather dangerous forest, if memory serves.

“Yes, Lord Douma experiences the strongest spiritual connection in this region,” she said, her voice higher-pitched than usual and her features softening. Was she blushing? “Since Lord Douma personally saved you, you have been accepted as a new member; normally, we do not accept new members during the summer.”

Jun helped you sit completely upright, to which she praised you for your strength even though you’d been comatose. “I’m sorry but I need to go.” Dr. Isha’s face fell at your words. “I feel like there is something crucial waiting for me at home…” You trailed off.

You couldn’t remember what it was. 

What was so important that it had you traveling? What did you forget? “I understand, but you are still recovering,” Dr. Isha began, as she wrapped up the trash and discarded it in the bin underneath your bedside table. “Our founder will be arriving shortly. Jun, I expect this place to be tidy and the guest to be dressed before our arrival. Take care.”

As Dr. Isha’s words echoed in the room, you were left alone with Jun. Her comforting presence was a stark contrast to the cold, clinical demeanor of the doctor. However, you weren’t upset with the doctor. A part of you empathized with her. After all, if you were a doctor, you wouldn’t even know the first thing to do about someone ripping out their IV and wandering through the hall. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, what else had made her seem angry with you?

“Jun?” you began, watching the petite woman busily organizing medical equipment. “Why doesn’t Dr. Isha seem to like me very much?”

She stood up, made eye contact, and continued her work before responding. “Dr. Isha has been here the longest out of everyone,” she explained, grabbing some glass cleaner and beginning to clean the already spotless mirror. “She was Lord Douma’s advisor for many years until your arrival. She was demoted a few days after you caused that scene in the cafeteria.” Her words hung in the air, adding a new layer of complexity to your situation.

Wow. Another thing you did not expect. You’d always been known for being a bit difficult to care for, but thinking back, who was it that told you that in the first place? A voice hidden in the mist of your mind spoke, “Even when injured, you and your brother are still as difficult as always.” The voice echoed in your mind—a ghost from the past. It was familiar, yet distant. You racked your brain, trying to place the voice, but it was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

You perked up. Whose voice was that? What memory was that from? You saw fields of sunflowers and hyottoko masks and smelled the familiar scent of something burning. What was this? 

“Jun,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you placed your head in your hands. “What’s wrong with my head? Small fragments of memories come back to me, but I can’t piece them all together.”

Having finished with the cleaning, Jun moved closer. “Memory is a tricky, funny thing,” she said softly. “You were injured; please remember that. I wish we knew everything we possibly could, but Dr. Isha believes your memories will return with time. Won’t you stay so we can help?”

She had a point. 

Logically, you knew wandering about in the middle of the forest, especially in your current condition, was not the wisest decision. You were certain you were familiar with forests, but you didn’t know if you’d ever been to Aokigahara. Being lost while wounded sounded far worse than being cared for, hydrated, clothed, and fed.

“Alright,” you finally conceded, sinking back into the bed. “I’ll stay… for now. But you do need to explain what being a member means.” Jun’s face lit up at your words, and for the first time since you woke up, you felt a small sense of relief for making a decision.

This was the right one. Right?

[dontstareatgorgons]

The Sheep Queen

first off, thanks to my friends for goading me into posting this. I wrote this in approx 3 hours, no I dont know how, yes I should have been doing other things.

On the edge of a medium sized town there lives a family who raises sheep, both for wool and meat. They are a large family, fairly well off. Food is valuable, as is wool when the winter months come. The family has no shortage of either. One day, in the middle of the night, the eldest boy hears knocking in the barn; this is unusual, it is fairly well known in town that when hard times hit the family will do what they can to help get people on their feet again (the homeless buy no wool, and do not spare the money for a holiday roast). The boy enters the barn, lantern held aloft, to find a girl, with hair too pale for her age, wearing dark stained rags over starved-thin limbs. "Hello" he calls softly, into the night the girl raises her head in a flash, startled like the jackrabbits in spring, but she freezes like the deer who leap the pasture fences, her red eyes reflecting the firelight the way the barn cats sometimes do, orange glow almost obscuring the way her eyes widen. Fear almost makes the boy miss the way her chest spasms with a gasp of air she does not need, a wordless surprise of expected damnation. He sees the way those firebright eyes dash to the ragged bundle resting on the hay bales prepped for feeding tomorrow. 

"Wait!"

As his word splits the silence, like the crack in the old concrete dam that broke last winter, so too do her words come spilling out 

"Im sorry! I'm sorry! I'll leave, please, I havent taken anything! I have not touched your sheep!" 

"easy, traveller, I mean you no harm!"

This freezes her in her tracks. he cannot mistake her in this half-light, she is sure. 

"Come, we have a spare room in the house. it will be more pleasant than the bale, and we have enough blood sausage to feed another mouth. If you wish to continue at evening, we will not stop you, but it does by honor a wound to leave a guest with the animals" 

The girl is unsure, but in a twist of fate does follow him inside, where he sets about lighting candles and sure enough, rather than grab for stake or sword, grabs a skillet and firewood, alongside some of the promised sausage.

The noise rouses the boys parents, and his siblings, though his grandmother sleeps on. The mother sees the girl, sees the way her clothes are more torn than mended, more chimney rag than coat. In moments a hearth-warm blanket is draped upon her shoulders, a warmth she does not remember when she last felt. A warmth so different from the menace of torches and forge-metal. Surprisingly it is the father who speaks. 

"A traveler, I suppose? I haven't seen you in town, lass." lying is comfortable. lying will likely not work. not with how this man's son heats naught but sausages, not with how her skin has grown as frozen as the ground beneath their feet 

"Of a sort, I am not allowed to stay once found." a truth, but not the whole truth. Pray that the boy will keep her secret -pray he learned his kindness from his parents- a look is exchanged above her head. she should run… she has not eaten in months, and the sausage smells oh so good. If she doesn't eat soon she will starve anyway. and she has waited too long, she is too slow to hunt. better a stake to the heart from a kind hand than a slow unmaking rent by her own flesh 

"We do not turn out guests here. it is not our way. no matter where they come from." the mother this time. a long-withered thing in her chest begins to bloom, a thing she thought dead seasons and seasons past the tension in the air is barely broken by the boy setting down a bowl of steaming sausage, the smell rising to her nose and tugging on her control. she must not scare them too badly, if she can avoid it she devours the meal with the voraciousness of the beast living in her bones somehow the only look this earns her is one of sadness maybe even pity. 

"Do you have somewhere you are going?" the boy again. "....no" her face is streaked in red to match her eyes.

Another look is passed. this time not only between the parents, but to their son, and to the small cluster of young teens lingering in the shadowed hallway. a decision is made. The mother speaks first. 

"Stay with us, as long as you need. The road has made you weary, child, and we have no shortage of beds. Rest here, heal up. You are welcomed. We will be here when you rise, and there is food aplenty." Ultimately it is not the girl's choice. The horizon is beginning to glow. The boy leads her to a room, clearly unused. Long ago it was likely on an exterior wall, but on homesteads like this, houses grow with the family. There are no windows. It is the best the girl has slept in years. 

She wakes rested, and stronger than she thought she could be, the moon already well underway in the sky. as she creeps out to the kitchen she finds the entire family, this time alongside elders, gathered together. She trembles slightly as a breeze blows through, for it is long past the time that herdsmen retire, and even further past when elders are oft to bed. The eldest man, who must be the boys grandfather, speaks first. 

"Did you sleep well girl?" she knows not what to make of this 

"yes, sir, I thank you for your hospitality" 

"good. eat up, there are things to discuss" the old lady, who must be his wife, reaches a weatherworn hand out to thump his shoulder 

"don't scare the poor dear, she's had enough frights! come girl, sit" she motions to the empty chair at the kitchen table, one more than had been present yesterday. Again she is handed blood sausage, this time by a guileless child missing a front tooth. She hasn't seen a child up close since her empty stomach stole from her the warmth of youth as she eats, now more tempered, more careful, no longer quite as consumed as the night before, the grandfather speaks. 

"I know tales of your kind, who live by the moon. You are faster, stronger, than any man can hope to be. Some call you savages-" 

her grip tightens on the utensil she has been given 

"but those folk call many fine people savages, so their thoughts matter little. I tell you what girl; no matter what you decide you are welcome here until your body is strong enough to continue, but if you want to stop running, I shall strike you a deal. Once you are well, you shall watch the herds in the night- we have had problems with wildlife, though you need only come wake us should something appear, and in return you are welcome among us like family. We shall feed you, house you, and look after you as our own." this seems like a dream, a luxury she almost had forgotten. 

"Think on it, child, and in the meantime rest, and recover. you are safe here."

She does, in the coming weeks. her frame begins to lose the hollow gauntness, and her hair even earns back a bit of shine. weeks become months, as the cold season comes, and then goes. somehow the thought of leaving never comes to her mind. At dawn and dusk she greets the family warmly, eating her dinner with the early risers, and eating her breakfast with the night owls. Every day, without fail, she finds a bag of sausage with her name writ upon it waiting for her come midnight. The sheep themselves do not trust her much, as sheep are wont to do, but time has calmed the brave ones. Some even call to her when the rare wolf prowls the woods. It is as the harvest comes that the boy pulls her aside one eve and offers her something. 

"a treat" he says. "It is harvest time, and i fear you are likely getting rather bored of the same sausage. '' Getting bored of food is a luxury she has never had, not even as a true child. He leads her to a building, on the opposite side of the house from the barn. This, she has learned, is where the family processes their animals for meat. Sitting on the edge of a bench just outside, is a jug, and a cup taken from the house. With a flourish, the boy pours from the jug and hands the girl perhaps the sweetest gift given to her since that offer of a warm bed. She drinks the rich sheep's blood, so much warmer and more filling than the sausage which has sustained her so far. He gleefully hands her the fairly large jug. she drains the entire thing, and not once does the grin leave his face. How lucky she is to have found him that night. 

She stays.

Months grow to years. If you didn't know better, around harvest season she almost seemed alive, a warmth in her bones, and a flush in her cheeks. Even in the depths of winter, when no sane farmer would butcher fresh meat from his herd, she is as broad as a farm girl ought to be, and her feet dance upon the grass. The waif who stowed away in the hay stack has become another bright eyed head among the young family, playing games with the young ones and soothing late night terrors when she can. In her fifth year with the family, she marries the boy. They spoke, beforehand. They both knew she had not aged a day. They both know she never will. One winter, when his joints begin to creak, it is decided. At sundown, two pairs of red eyes open on a sheep farm in the hills. less changes than one might think.

Time creeps forth. the whole family cannot become nightwalkers; this the couple has always known. The boy's grandparents pass soon after the wedding. His parents pass some few decades later, peacefully. According to the magistrate, the boy has an illness that prevents him from coming to town. The farm is inherited by the next eldest- The parents had confided in the girl that was the plan all along. Her husband may be soft at heart, and know sheep like none other, but did not have the mind for the law and contracts like his brother. Time continues to march. Soon even the brother is taken by time. The small town has grown, now a moderate size trading hub for goods. 

No one alive remembers the night a young girl took a chance on a kind boy. The night a kind boy proved a monster is not a monster at all. 

The family grows, for while the original siblings are gone, they too had many children. Children taught early the importance of their uncle and aunt who live at night, their family who kept both them and the herd safe, who the family protected in turn. As the family grows, so too do the herds. A young son comes forth, and asks to join them at night. He has no love to leave behind in town, only the sheep he tends. Three pairs of red eyes open on the hill, as twilight purple fades from the sky.

So too, do both branches of the family grow as years pass. "The night shift" and "the day shift" they come to be called, first inside the family, then by the town in general. Everyone knew the house on the hill who hired night guardsmen for their sheep; no one wanted to become the poor sod up at ungodly hours, but no one ever assumed "the night shift" was anything other than shepherds who got the short end of the straw, normal people just like them. That's how the family liked it. There was but one problem; the dog problem. 

It went like this; a skilled shepherd needs a herding dog, to direct and control the flock. A family of shepherds needed many, yet Dogs are only awake during the day. For a time, the Night Shift made do, but corralling a flock when predators were about was difficult, and draining. Until The Incident. 

The family had always had herding dogs, bred them in fact. When the girl had first arrived, the dogs had never liked her. Animals rarely did; the sheep were simply too stupid to be scared. But then she witnessed the first litters. By then, the dogs had grown to tolerate her. It took longer than the other children, but eventually she was allowed to meet the pups. She had told the father she would frighten them. The father had handed her a pup anyway. "They are young. Everything frightens them. They will learn, much easier than the old ones." He had been right.

Now, the descendants of those very same dogs who had so distrusted her, came to beg scraps from her, and laid upon her feet when she had the rare night off (a feat becoming ever more common as the family grew. Many hands make light work, and for all she had not changed a whit since her wedding day, she was an elder, who had a hand in raising every child under the roof of the now-sprawling collection of houses in which the family lived). 

For all that each canine life seemed shorter than the last, some bonded close to the lady and her husband who had been there for so long. One night, one such dog, the family's best herder, had been wandering near the woods when it encountered a starving wolf in the underbrush. The screams had split the twilight as both sides of the family raced for the commotion, only to arrive to the aftermath. The wolf was slain, its red blood staining the grass, but the lady lowered her head as her husband's favorite dog lay, its breath a weak and gasping thing as it nosed its master's cold hand. The two were no strangers to grief, this would be far from their first such loss, but her dear husband had forgotten something. In his haste out the door, the knife he had been using to whittle a wooden gift for one of the children had sliced his hand.

His lack of heartbeat had prevented him from noticing, and what passed for adrenaline masked the pain well enough. Both the lady and her husband realized the truth in unison, either too late to stop it or too curious, as the dog lapped at the weeping wound. He felt it before she, but they both knew what it meant. They waited, as the great furred chest finally went still. The rest of the family began to disperse, to leave their elder to mourn his oft-companion, but it was as they began to turn away that twin shocked gasps arose from little-used lungs, drawing attention to the sudden hacking cough, expelling viscera onto the ground, the chest ceasing to rise and fall even as the legs levered it upwards and towards its fellow cooling corpse. Teeth and tongue lapped at tacky red, and the beast ate its fill, before its head rose and a deep howl breached the sky. 

The townsfolk say the nightwatch must have bred herders to wolves. The superstitious claim they tamed demons Only the family know that the best of the dogs they rear will outlive even their children, for the nightwatch are not true shepherds without a team of dogs at their sides.

If you visit that farm, in that no-longer-so-small town, you will see a pack of dogs gamboling about. Others yet sleep, some sprawled in the daylight, others tucked away in beds or the barn. Some are odd things- they seem too intense, too knowing. Some swear they have seen the same dog decades apart. All run together, until a whistle splits the pack. All run together, when a howl shakes the earth. no one has ever heard tales of bandits in those hills. The wise know that just means none survive to tell the tale. The wolfpack of the hills goes quiet. The hounds chorus takes their place. Oft, the night shift chose their hounds. 

Sometimes, the hounds choose their masters. Often it is the children who look after the pups, in spring, their parents too busy with lambs. Often, the older children chose a member of one such litter to be their companion during the day. One such boy poured his soul into his friend, who was naught but a step behind the boy for years. The little boy became a man, and his lifelong friend became the undisputed best, first of the litter, then of the pack. But age comes first for those of four legs, and soon aching joints threatened to send the man's shadow from the fields. One festival night, when all the family came together to share stories and merriment, the man was approached by a distant cousin of sorts, a man who looked only a few years older than himself but whom in reality likely helped raise his grandfather, spoke to the man. 

"Your hound is aging, he is set to retire this year. He is skilled enough to be one of us, if you and he would allow it. The change would heal him of his ache, but only so long as it is fairly new. Consider it, and find me if you assent" A challenging proposition. He would lose his friend to the night, no longer living the same life, able only to connect in those stolen moments bookending the day- but to refuse, and he would lose the being who saw him through his growth entirely. In the end it was barely a choice at all.

His dog is dead, the heartbeat twin to his has stopped. It aches, in his chest, where that second heart should be. His work is awkward, stilted as he learns to command another. No one can replace his soul made flesh. The day is exhausting, as he trudges home, to his bed which was so difficult to leave. When he pulls back the covers, his hand brushes cold fur, and the man smiles, bittersweet. 

"stolen all the heat again, old friend?" A blur of pure darkness leaps up, and a cold tongue laves sun-warm cheeks. "i'll be sure to have it warm for you in the morning, dear" A whistled tune splits the sky. Red eyes turn to look back, a silent goodbye. The mans dog is dead.

So goes their life, connected in parts for thrice as long as they were connected as a whole, yet still do they sleep on the same sheets, just like a boy with his pup. A tether both broken and unbreakable, indomitable in strength. The man's joints too grow stiff. His nephews and nieces know what this means, they all know that time is coming for him. Just not in the way most would assume. He approaches The Grandmother, a woman legends have immortalized as the Sheep Queen of the hills. She snuck him candy whenever he was too sick to go into town with the other children, back when he was little. Before he can even speak, that festival night like so many years ago, she smiles at him. 

"I know what you seek, child. Your offer accepted, our help freely given, but I must deny you one thing." His heart becomes as cold as that old void in his chest, a void partially filled, but painted with longing. "for another wishes the honor. Like calls to like, after all." Her voice rises over the wind- "Welcome, child of dawn, to the twilight. Join your soul across the veil, we welcome you with open arms!" Confusion graces his face as the customary cheer goes up, until familiar weight rests upon his knee, a weight he has felt every morning and every night, yet misses keenly every day. In mere hours, that cold place between his ribs is full. It is not warm- it never will be again, he knew that from the beginning. But it is no longer shards of sharpened ice. Now, it is the pleasant coolness of freshly washed sheets in summer. The playful rush of white rapids, urging him forth to greet the stars.

The man's dog is dead. But so is he. And as he smiles and laughs with friends new and old, his heart is at peace. They say the sheep queen of the hills is a goddess. They say she is a demon. Most say she never existed at all- But sheep are still reared in those hills, in the hands of a family older than the roads they tread, tended by herdsmen and hounds alike. And if a merchant sees a flash of too-bright teeth during an early morning delivery, or a lost child is returned home in the night telling stories of bright eyed doggies who carried them past all danger in the night, yet had to go around the creek not through, well, sometimes minds played tricks, and sometimes children told stories. And when men came asking for monsters, none could be found here, only neighbors, and the animals with which they spent their days.

[elysianslove]

haikyuu boys and tropes that suit them!

includes: kageyama tobio, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tōru, sakusa kiyoomi, miya osamu, miya atsumu, suna rintarō

(possibly part 1??? consider this an apology for not posting as much 💔)

kageyama tobio — practice kissing. 

kageyama is, as embarrassing as it is for him to admit this, inexperienced, greatly so. he’s in his third year of high school, 18, and is yet to have his first kiss. college is approaching him dauntingly quick, and he doesn’t think he can handle being as clueless as he is for any longer. so while you’re sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, he bluntly asks you if you’ve ever kissed someone. he seemed so confident, and the words were straightforward and lacked any sign of anxiety or uneasiness. but the moment they left his mouth, he’s red in the face and his hands are shaking. when you agree to help him practice, he’s scared, shy, flustered, and his heart is in his throat, but he lets you lead the, setting the pace yourself as you sit before him, his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. it’s electrifying, to put it to the least. he’d heard a million horror stories from his upperclassmen about first kisses, but he finds himself unable to relate. everything about the kiss and you is perfect, and he asks for more practice, starts looking forward to theses ‘sessions.’ he starts growing more and more confident, until he’s the one flustering you, the one making you gasp and squirm and mewl, not the other way around. and maybe he’ll find it in him to confess. maybe. 

iwaizumi hajime — friends to lovers. 

in general, with iwaizumi, he has a hard time believing in that he’s meant for a relationship, in that he has his own person, and for many reasons. he tries to be rational about it, saying he has other priorities at the moment, that he won’t be able to give his all, that he’s not particularly ready or in the right headspace/situation to commit to a person and a relationship. but it’s also, deep down, because of this indescribable fear of not being enough, of his flaws being too much, of being too imperfect. he just chooses not to get a headache over it, honestly. that’s why friends to lovers is perfect for him. it’s this person who he’s known for a long time, someone he’s come to know so well, so deeply, and vice versa. they’ve seen the bad and good of each other, been through all the ups and downs, learnt all their quirks, their habits, their tendencies. this is someone who is already a priority, someone who is already a constant. of course, he still hurts his head thinking about how wrong it is to have feelings for his friend, and the shame and guilt eats at him from the inside out. but it’s just so— easy. to love them. it’s so, so easy, as easy as breathing. and iwaizumi spends such a large amount of time pining and yearning that the final straw, the snap, the breathless confession, is so satisfying. 

oikawa tōru — enemies to lovers. 

oikawa wants and needs someone that’ll both keep him on his toes, always pushing him to the very edge but not completely over. he needs someone that excites him, someone that he has to work to earn. the word enemies is blurry to him. all he sees is someone playing hard to get, and he takes it as a challenge. it’s not that he wants and needs everyone to be in love with him and how dare you not be swooning at the sight of me!! it’s more that this person intrigues him impossibly. this person challenges him, bites back, and bites back hard. and the transition from enemies to lovers is so smooth with him, because it’s unpredictable and unexpected. one moment you’re swearing at him across the hall, the next you’re tenderly massaging at his injured knee and reassuring him of his hard work and efforts. it’s beautiful, really. the snarky comments and the flirty comebacks and the glares returned with playful grins, and them the moment of realization that opens up a whole new door that this person isn’t so bad after all. the satisfaction of finally giving in, either so slowly, so carefully and timidly, or rushed, hurried and desperate. so good. 

sakusa kiyoomi — there was only one bed! 

sakusa does not share. it’s nothing personal (sometimes it is), but he just prefers to have his own private space, where he can be comfortable. but things happen! like a trip where you’re stuck in the same room! and there’s only one bed! and the person you’re stuck with is the same person you’re very confused in regards to your feelings about them! the trip is a couple of days, and so it starts with the offer to sleep on the couch. it’s very uncomfortable, but he does it anyways, because a) he’s a gentleman, and b) you both now each have your private, safe space. two days pass, and you both tiredly pass out on the bed next to one another. he wakes up before you in horror and falls onto the couch quickly, but he doesn’t fall asleep again. as if this were fate’s play, you find yourself unable to sleep, and neither can he, so you quietly scoot over, a silent invitation. reluctantly, he accepts. he doesn’t spend that night sleeping either, instead simply stares at you, his hand outreaching for you, but not quite touching. eventually comes a day when he wakes up with your face buried in his shoulder, and although his cheeks are as warm as ever, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. he only feels grateful to be finally touching you. 

miya osamu — soft only for their lover. 

it’s not that osamu is rude to others, or hates everyone else, or anything along those lines. it’s more that he’s less likely to open up, be vulnerable, be softer, easier than compared to with his partner. with his lover, he smiles easier, expressions are readable, his eyes always a dead giveaway to what’s on his mind. he’s colder and less approachable to others, but it’s almost as if his resolve melts the moment he spots his lover. he could be yelling at someone, angrily, then turn to his partner and in the softest voice say, “just a moment, my love,” and go back to yelling as if it were completely normal. similarly, he will always take his lover’s side of the argument regardless of whether they’re right or wrong. and, he’ll be kissing his lover, but pause for a moment to deck his brother, then return to kissing his lover again even softer. it’s because his lover owns such a big part of his heart, and when osamu loves, he loves with every part of him. he’s been called out on it multiple times; the fact that he’s so much meaner and harsher and stubborn with everyone else, including his brother, but it’s always the opposite with you. you are his soft spot, really, and it tickles your tummy whenever you notice the little changes and shifts in his attitude and personality when it comes to you. 

miya atsumu — enemies to lovers. 

unlike with oikawa’s case, you and atsumu genuinely hate each other. you despise his attitude, his cockiness, his ideals, his approaches, his voice, his hair, everything, and likewise, he can’t stand you. he’d only ever been rude to you, and in response, you’d defended yourself by being equally as rude. this isn’t playing hard to get enemies, this is i hate your guts enemies. rarely does being in a room with him not result in some sort of argument. your mutual friends are all fed up, of the arguments, the fighting, the smack talk behind one another’s backs, the complaining, everything. it’s infuriating, and so they beg you to talk it out, to try and resolve whatever it was going on between you, but either he wouldn’t cooperate, or you wouldn’t. it seemed hopeless, until at some point in time, you get badly hurt, maybe mentally or physically, but atsumu finds himself worried unbelievably. it’s irrational to be, especially with your history with one another. but he’s worried, insanely so, and when he finds you, finds out you’re okay, or you will be, the relief that fills him is dizzying and so, scary. but maybe the both of you were just projecting onto each other, the fact that you so badly wanted each other but felt like you couldn’t do anything. 

suna rintarō — brother’s best friend. 

it’s a dash of forbidden love, a dash of friends to lovers. he’s your brother’s best friend, older than you, and it’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t help it. on the days he’s invited over, you purposely make sure to stay at home, and you make excuses to pass by your brother’s room constantly, to talk to him. he knows you like him, knows you’re desperately chasing after him in your own subtle way, and for a while, suna lets you. he acts dumb, none the wiser, lets you have your little fun of sneaking snaps of him to send to your friends and when you purposely press your leg against his sitting next to him on the couch or when you offer your lollipop after you suck on it. he indulges you, slightly, subtly. and when he sees it suitable, finds it right, he starts to return the advances: he accidentally arrives a little earlier than planned to your home when he’s invited, and he passed by you in school more often, and he makes up excuses to text you all the time. eventually, the sexual tension is unbearable, suffocating, incredibly overwhelming, and when it snaps, nothing else matters. just the two of you. he’s experienced, good with his words and his hands and his mouth and he’s a dream. and all you do is fall deeper, and deeper, and deeper. 

[icarusthefoolish]

This is very late i am aware and it was my fault because i was dumb and didn't realize my first post was on April 15th....

Anyway even if it is late i still wanted to post this.

This is a small thank you to my mutuals!

(Don't be mad if i forget you i have a terrible memory)

It's crazy to know that i have already spent an entire year on this app, it may not seem like much to most people but for me it is because i thend to get bored of apps really quickly.

I just wanted to thank all of my friends and all of the amazing people i have met on this app, i know im a lot to handle i tend to think badly about my self and i am honestly anoying so i don't know how you put up with me but thank you for doing it.

A few special thanks to , @itsonlydana @forefinn , @sundrop-tetsu , @0yuioy0 @sardonic-the-writer , @luvrgutz , @rainxox0 , @wilczachannn , @wrenqueenisboss @blooming-mushroom , @sunniewrites , @junebug-isunavailable and a bunch of other people for being my friend's.

Also another thanks to each and every follower i have, it means the absolute world to me that 150 of you enjoy the shitty and honestly weird ideas and storys i have.

And one more really really big thank you to @nightmarefox15 , you have honestly been one of the main reasons i smile every day because just talking to you makes me so so so incredibly happy.

I joined Tumblr one year ago today and honestly this has been the best year for me simply because i have made so many incredibly kind friends. I still remember the first month or so that i joined Tumblr, i was terrified to talk to people because everyone i saw was so cool and i felt that everyone was genuinely better then me so i chose to stay by my lonesome and just read different story's. I still followed people but i never interacted with them until i came across a blog called "Watermelon Sugar Writes" i talked to them because i thought their Url was about the Harry Styles song "Watermelon Sugar high" which it wasn't.

Mel was genuinely my very first friend and i can't tell you how thankful i am that i met her, because of her i became friends with my now ex who i don't want anything to do with but because of that i began actually interacting with the people i followed be it on Anon or not.

And due to that i began talking to so many people who are now my friends and i can't say how thankful i am that they put up with me, i know i tend to be weird and annoying but it means so so so much to me that you're still here.

@nightmarefox15 : Definitely one of my first friends and also the person who played my favorite C!Anon. I love you so so so incredibly much and I'm so thankful that i met you and we became Friends. Your one of the main reasons that i start smiling when i wake up because i know that your there to greet me. I'm so thankful that your here and that you love me when i can't love myself. You make me laugh and blush even when i don't feel like it. I met so so so many incredible people because of you.

@sardonic-the-writer : Sar my saviour, honestly I'm so glad that I got to meet you even if it was because you stood up for me because hate Anons were flooding my asks, honestly i remember seeing you reblog the first ask made me scream because i used to always see you on my dash but i was too much of a whimp to follow or interact with you. But I'm so glad that i eventually did because you are genuinely one of the most amazing people i have gotten the pleasure to meet in my time on here.

@junebug-isunavailable : Juneee!! First of all Happy Birthday, second I'm very glad that i get to call you my mutual because you are amazing and incredible and i could kiss you /j. I absolutely adore your art and i also adore you. (Yes I'm aware this is early but shhhh)

@0yuioy0 : JJ, i still remember how we met, it was genuinely so weird but also funny, because i had been following you for a while but i was scared to talk to you because you just seemed so cool, but eventually (i think thanks to Ry) we talked, you sent me an ask and i freaked out. It's still one of my most treasured memories because it's so funny to think about.

@itsonlydana : Dana oh Dana, i don't remember how we met but i do remember how damn excited i was when we figured out that we both lived in Germany (and pretty close to each other) and now when i think of my friends your one of the first people that come to mind because we've gotten so close over the time we've known each other. We are both absolute simps for Foolish and we have a pretty similar taste in music. Ich habe dich wirklich so so so lieb gewonnen und ich könnte mir Tumblr ohne dich nicht vorstellen.

@eighthwvnder : oh wonder, we may not have known each other for very long but it honestly feels like we've known each other for an eternity, we started talking and we basically just clicked. We've had similar experiences with a few things and your genuinely one of the Kindest people I've met. And i have to again thank JJ for that because he got me to get into the Discord group and without him and that group i probably wouldn't have known you existed.

@as-you-should-peasant : Peasant! I am genuinely so thankful that i got the courage to talk to you because you are a genuinely amazing and incredible person. You accepted me with open arms and i couldn't be happier that i get to call you my mutual.

@luvrgutz : Sushi! Or El or whatever other names you use fjfjfj, i am so so so thankful that i got to meet you and i do actually remember how we met, because i was talking to Ry while little and he had to go so he sent me to you and i just remember how scared i was to talk to you because ew new people. But I'm very happy that i did talk to you because i can always come to you for advice. Im so thankful that we reconnected after you dissapered from Tumblr I'm so so so glad that I'm talking to you now.

@rainxox0 Rain my beloved, i don't remember how we met exactly but i do know that you are an absolutely amazing and incredible person and i genuinely love you /p you are absolutely incredible and i don't know what I'd do without you.

@sundrop-tetsu : Amelia my love I'm so so so thankful that i got to meet you through Ry because you've become one of my closest mutuals on here, i love when we interact because you just make me laugh and i couldn't imagine a world without you honestly.

@forefinn Finn, i know we don't talk much anymore but you are still incredibly important to me, i still absolutely adore your storys and i also adore you because you are so kind, i love you a whole whole whole lot Finn and i swear I'm gonna start talking to you more pinky promise!

I know there's so so so many more mutuals who i haven't tagged but i want all of my mutuals to know how incredibly thankful i am that we are friends.

It may seem ridiculous but meeting so many people on here has made my life so much better simply because i have always had a problem with meeting and befriending new people and now knowing that so many people care about me and are glad that they know me just makes me happy because i never had that before. Each and every one of you be it mutual, anon or just follower is so so so important to me.

So thank you to everyone who has put up with me throughout this entire year haha.

Basically what i want to say with this long ass text is thank you for being there for me, i couldn't have asked for better friends on this app. ❤️

Emery/Icarus

[theweasleysredhair]

Intoxicated [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 1484

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: George and Y/n have a cheeky snog in the Gryffindor common room during a party after a Quidditch game.

Tags: @dreamer821 @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i know my next fic was supposed to be one of the fics on that list i posted and i promise i’ll write them but i ended up being motivated to finish this one i’m sorry! but also enjoy some drunk fluff with my main man george (warning: mentions of alcohol and drinking)

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“He keeps staring at you,” Alicia spoke, shooting a sly smile at you as she lifted her firewhisky to her lips.

You glanced around the busy Gryffindor common room, frowning a little in confusion as you wondered who she was talking about, your eyes flickering through the faces of a few Hufflepuffs, a group of Ravenclaws and a couple of Slytherins who were stood in the opposite corner, “Who?”

Alicia’s reply came instantly as she let out an amused scoff, “Who do you think? George, of course!”

And suddenly you felt like you were on fire, your nerves being set alight just from the mere mention of his name, your heart pounding at the idea of the ginger boy noticing you. You instinctively gripped your cup a little tighter, tipping the cool liquid down your throat - your third, possibly fourth, drink so far of the night.

“He’s not staring at me,” you mumbled, chewing on your lip as you played with a strand of your hair, staring down into the half-empty cup, your eyes slightly unfocused.

“How would you know? You’re not facing his direction,” Katie, who had been listening to the conversation, pointed out, nodding her head to somewhere behind you.

You so badly wanted to turn around but decided against it, not wanting to bring more attention to yourself, “I just know. Why would he be staring at me?”

“Because he very clearly fancies you,” Alicia rolled her eyes playfully, “Plus you’re hot, there’s a lot of guys interested in you, I just know you have your eye on the particular redhead sat on the couch over there.”

You wished George fancied you. Why wouldn’t you? He was tall, fit, funny. Freckles dotted across his skin, messy ginger hair that made your heart race.

At the thought of him, you turned in his direction casually, as if you were observing the room, but you didn’t fail to notice the way he was looking you up and down.

“Let’s go get another drink,” Alicia suggested, placing her empty cup to one side. You nodded, walking with her and Katie towards the drinks table, joking about something before Alicia suddenly looked at you, biting her lip.

“Please don’t hate me for this,” she grinned mischievously. “Hate you for what?” You asked, confused.

And before you knew what was happening, Alicia gently bumped into you, the force just strong enough to make you lose your balance in your tipsy daze and fall onto someone’s lap.

You were vaguely aware of Alicia and Katie running off just as strong hands gripped your waist, steadying you on the lap as your eyes widened, your head whipping up to set your gaze upon no other than George Weasley’s shocked yet happily surprised face.

***

“I’m gonna tell her,” George announced determinedly as he stared over in your direction, allowing his eyes to wander down your body, appreciating the outfit you had chosen to wear for the party that evening.

“You’re not gonna tell her,” Fred grinned, downing the last of his drink and dumping the cup on the nearest table. George glanced over at him and crossed his arms over his chest indignantly, “I am!”

“Then here, you’ll need this,” Lee joked as he pushed a full drink into George’s hands. George stared at the clear liquid for a moment before shrugging and downing it in a few seconds, before handing the empty cup back to Lee.

“Right, I’m gonna talk to her,” George said, eyes finding you in the crowd again and admiring the sight of you laughing, his lips curling up into a smile. Fred and Lee looked at each other, waiting for him to stand up or even move, however after a couple of seconds, Fred waved a hand in front of his twin’s face, “Do you think you’re already moving right now or..?”

Receiving no response, Lee prodded George’s shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong?” George looked over to Lee and suddenly grabbed another drink from the table before finishing it off too.

“Right I’m gonna-“

And suddenly, George was interrupted as he felt someone fall onto his lap, his hands moving easily to catch whoever it was, before he realised with a jolt of his heart that it was you on his lap right now.

Later on, he’d remember to comment on how cute your scared face was, and thank Fred and Lee for excusing themselves from the couch, however right in that moment, all he could focus on was the way your body was pressed against his, your face literally inches from his and he couldn’t believe his luck.

”Hello there love, fancy seeing you here,” George grinned at you, squeezing your waist.

“Oh Merlin, I-I’m so sorry George! It was Alicia, she-“ you spluttered out, stuttering slightly over your words.

“Don’t be daft, darling, no need to be sorry. Not everyday a beautiful girl falls literally straight into my lap,” George replied cheekily, pulling you further onto his lap as he sat up slightly. You felt your cheeks warm as you smiled, ducking your head down before looking back up at him, “So um...”

“So, what brings you to my part of the common room?”

“Well, I was supposed to be getting another drink but I guess I fell into a cute guy’s lap before I made it to the table,” you replied, before your eyes widened as you realised what you’d said.

“Cute, huh?” George grinned wide, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Um well I didn’t mean- I mean you’re not exactly not cute I suppose...” You stuttered, trying to cover up what you had just admitted to him.

“Don’t go backtracking now, darling! I want to know more about how cute you find me. How dashing, how devastatingly handsome,” he smirked, squeezing your waist again.

“Don’t put words into my mouth,” you pouted playfully. “I am devastatingly handsome though,” he boasted, dramatically flicking a hand through his hair.

You rolled your eyes at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You played really well in the match today,” you changed the subject before he could tease you any more.

George grinned again, “Oh you noticed?”

“Kinda hard not to notice, considering you and Fred stole the show with how many times you hit those bludgers away,” you replied, tucking your hair behind your ear as you shifted slightly in his lap.

“Seems like you were very focused on me,” he said confidently, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You scoffed out a laugh, “I said you and Fred, don’t get cocky!”

“We all know you just mean me though. Wonder what it was like for you, watching me and my rippling biceps working hard. Bet you enjoyed the view, right?” He teased, his eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shook your head but couldn’t help smiling as your hands absent-mindedly fell to rest on said rippling biceps.

“That wasn’t a no,” George commented and suddenly he was slowly closing the tiny gap between you, his lips just barely brushing against yours a couple of times before he moved away slightly, resting his forehead against yours, “I um- I want our first kiss to be somewhere romantic, you know? Maybe with candles, or in Hogsmeade after I finally got the courage to ask you out. I have it all planned out.”

Despite his words, you noticed his head tilting up, his lips inching towards yours, his eyes flickering again back from looking into yours and down to your lips. His tongue darted out to glide across his bottom lip as his hands moved from your waist down to grip your hips.

“You sure we can’t just kiss right here? Because... you kinda look like you wanna kiss me,” you whispered into his ear, your chest pressing against his as you leant forward.

George shifted, his breath catching in his throat as he caught the mischievous glint in your eye. The corner of his mouth curled up into a half smirk.

“Fuck it,” he breathed out.

He pressed his lips to yours properly, kissing you like it was the last thing he’d ever do. His hands ran up your back, holding you close to his chest as he licked into your mouth, your own hands running through his hair, tugging gently at the strands at the back of his neck, making him let out a small groan.

He cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss as he pulled you further onto him, your thighs now straddling his waist as he trailed kisses down towards your neck.

“I reckon you’re glad you fell for me then, right?” George’s breaths hit your neck as he moved to look up into your eyes. You smiled at him, lips swollen and hair messy from his hands raking through it,

“I guess you could say that.”

[fatoujallovv]

hey hi besties 🥺 i recently hit 500 followers and i wanted to take a moment to thank everyone that has hung out with me for the past 10 months. whether you’ve helped me learn to gif, supported my writing, humored me when i do a billion ask games, or just been with me along the way, i’m so so grateful for the amazing family i have here 🥺💛 this lil blog is my safe space and i wanted to let you all know how much you mean to me 💗💗💗💗

i’m doing a few things to celebrate 💛 first is one of those as ranked by my followers things 🤪 i’ll prob leave the form for a couple weeks if u wanna vote :)

vote for ur fav of my top 15 skamverse characters here!

next is gif requests! this is inspired by @fatoudixon’s lil christmas present series bc it was so adorable 🥺 

give me a gifset idea that would make you happy, or send me a mutual you love and an idea for a gifset you think would make them happy. you can just give me a character/music video etc, or you can describe color(s) you/they like, a fav character’s trademark lil mannerism, a theme, a quote, parallels, literally anything and i’ll do my best to bring your idea to life! 

if you don’t know what to request, a list of skamverse seasons and musicians i'll gif is under the cut! if we have a mutual interest i didn’t list, u can totally go rogue 🤪 if ur requesting a gift ideally i’d be mutuals with them bc i wanna do a Good Job and not seem like a weirdo gifting to people that don’t know me lmao so feel free to read thru things under the cut as I should (hopefully) have tagged all my mutuals unless they've been inactive for 200 days bc I don’t wanna to bother them akjfghjgakj butttt if in doubt feel free to dm me to check! 

last i want to send loving brainwaves to the mutuals that have made tumblr such a fun and comforting place for me, so that's under the cut as well :’)

things I'll gif :)

skam: skam france (i haven't watched the new seasons tho eek), druck s3 + new gen my beloved, og s3 and s4, skam nl (i just started the other day so i've only watched isa’s season but by the time i finish these i hope i’ll have watched both ajhfahfj) music: troye sivan, conan gray, hayley kiyoko, dua lipa, dodie, lennon stella, one direction & solo harry, and i like plenty of others just these are the ones i feel like i know and like a significant enough portion of their discography 😌 but i love giffing music stuff so don’t feel limited to the list !!!

alrighttttttttt time to get sappy 🤪✌️

to my mutuals:

whether we frequent each other’s asks or we only ever interact telepathically by liking each other’s posts, thank you. thank you for putting awesome things on my dash, thank you for the amazing things you create, thank you for hyping up my personal posts, for tolerating my very long tags, for sharing all your lovely personalities. a lot of you feel more like pocket family than pocket friends. thank you for allowing me a space to be myself for pretty much the first time ever and being the most amazing and kind and talented friends I could ask for 💛💛💛💛 without further ado, here’s my bizarre way of saying i love you: mutuals superlatives.... kind of.....

mutuals i want to sip tea and watch the sunset on a porch swing with: @wilderness-solace @tawmlinsun @katzen-kinder @evilhersxlf @sanabakkoushd @saltyflowr @awake-dreamer18 @lesbianearn​ @fireflysxx​ @katnisseverden​

mutuals i want to take me to a museum and tell me about all their favorite pieces of art: @luxandobscurus​ @nyttvera @smblmn @lepetitepeach @nellsdani @blanxkey @beachbathe @fatoudixon @vexedtonightmares @clairdelalune @demauryss​

mutuals i would go on a rollercoaster with if they asked even though i hate rollercoasters with everything i am (i will protect u at all !!!! costs !!!!!!): @kritiquer @vanillalipstick66 @ffriluftslivv @sunflouwermoon @lesbeanadiamcnll @isakeijjser @maxberninis @birthdaysentiment @letisnotonfire @sandersdocs @thenerd10​ 

mutuals i want to adopt me like pls i literally have the paperwork ready: @spiritinanitecap @alwayskissmeatnight @caroldanvr @lallemcnt @buckywilsn​

mutuals i want to be my cool older sibling pls and thank u <3: @alexauriant​ @tsjernobyl​ @ayarambles @lifeisevak @germericangirl​ @bethisneckdeep​ 

mutuals i want to take on a petting zoo date SO BADLY: @sonderthroughthestreets @harubirus @lololil @racoons-hedgehogs-and-pixiedust @polarisrodulv @yaraaimsakul @genjasafin​ 

mutuals i want to literally kiss on the lips: @lieverobbe @graceryders @hidden-joy @arzkiya-hai @ijzerengels​ 

mutuals i want to be at the sleepover after i kiss the other mutual on the lips: @alinaoretscv @starryfreckles @fatousjallow @isakeijzer @theflowerisblue @dagcutie​ @franboos @gucciboner @torisgf​ @sandersyasmina​ 

mutuals i would call if i needed to dispose of a body: @lucasotteli @noorengels @thegirlyouknow @lolasluquette @womenstan @herlade​ 

mutuals im scared to even call mutuals bc holy shit I am Unworthy: @veerledejaegers @noramachwtz​ @marjvn @fatoujallow @floraflorenzi​ 

my wedding bc why not it’s my post bride: @hidden-joy ofc <3 wedding party: @luxandobscurus @lucasotteli @sandersyasmina @vexedtonightmares @clairdelalune​ flower girls: @thenerd10 @arzkiya-hai @ijzerengels​ @yaraaimsakul​ ring bearer: @genjasafin​ officiant: @fireflysxx​ wedding planner: @katnisseverden​

[ginkgomoon]

Gavin and MC’s High School History- Detailed Timeline

Dedicated to my amazing and kind friend @cheri-cheri- one of the Queens of the MLQC fandom on Tumblr! I literally didn’t know how to use it before but I had learnt how in order to keep up with her posts. Without her work, I literally wouldn’t be on here making my own blog either. Thank you, Cheri!!

This is a timeline following the years of high school that MC and Gavin had together. Compiled of dates, rumours and secrets, calls, texts, and other from multiple servers. The source will be shown allocated to its corresponding sentence. I created this because I was really moved when I rewatched Gavin’s Old Days Date and suddenly thought of the many things other players could have missed out on regarding their high school years. If there is anything you need clarification on, or if you would like to add anything in, feel free to send a post/ask or just comment and I’ll try to incorporate and adjust accordingly! 

Based off of true correspondence of the Chinese education system in Shanghai, where the schools there are very strict, with specific responsibilities and events students must have and attend to. In addition, this is different from Western school systems where years 7-9 are in a seperate schools from years 10-12 before university. Dates and seasons mentioned will also be noted as accurately as possible to suit the Loveland storyline in which different events occurred. I felt like a detective trying to piece a fractured storyline together to solve a mystery, honestly...

Prepare your tissues, your milk tea and your soul because even I almost didn’t make it to publish this...

Timeline

2008

Gavin enters high school.

2009

MC and Minor enter high school. MC does her hair in a nice ponytail, one of the only hairstyles she ever had in school.

Gavin is a grade above her. He is in his last year of high school. [Spring Festival Date]

Late Autumn of October 2010

“I noticed who you were before you ever noticed me.” 

On a rainy first day of school, Gavin helps Mr Keller move the tables and chairs in the classroom. 

Without taking an umbrella, Gavin leaves. 

At the same time, MC saves a cat in the rain with her handkerchief, attempting to shield it from the incoming rain under a roof. She gives it snacks from her bag while sheltering it from the rain. 

Gavin thinks she was nerdy-looking, but couldn't take his eyes off her and watches her from a distance for a long time. He feels out of place standing.

She looks back at him in astonishment, not knowing how long he stood for. 

She smiles at Gavin.

Gavin notes that MC’s smile just like her eyes, were pure and comforting as they start filling his vision. 

The rain starts to get heavier and MC shivers. 

Something stirred in Gavin’s heart as he notices this, and kicks a can in frustration then shelters her with his jacket. 

He runs away as MC shouts, “thank you!” 

She didn’t know it was Gavin who gave her his jacket at the time.

MC goes back and is then told by her fellow classmates that the boy she encountered was the “tyrant school bully”,  and “the Underworld Senior Gavin”, and that she should stay away from him. [Tilted Time- Rumours and Secrets]

-

MC finds piano dull to play the same songs over and over again.

MC in her spare time practices and sings to Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3 (Love Dream) for a talent show.

At the rooftop, Gavin is wounded by a gangster’s knife. A gradually intensifying melody is heard. 

Gavin kicks the gangster boss but then is pursued again. Outnumbered, wounded and losing consciousness due to major blood loss, the gangster boss kicks Gavin off the roof. 

Gavin reaches out, to something- anything. 

A heavy, surging melody sounded, transcending through time and allows Gavin to reflect on his past- to his father, to his late mother, and invokes deep reflection and epiphanies. 

Heavy notes seep into Gavin’s ears as he almost hits rock bottom. He feels his limbs emerging with the wind and awakens his wind evol. 

Gavin is now reborn.

The music continued to play. Gavin ends up humming with a bird. 

He then hears MC’s singing.

MC stops, mesmerised by the ginkgo leaves flying through the wind. The ginkgo leaves falling was her favourite time of the year in high school. This vivid sight is still engraved in her memory after many years.

Gavin vows to protect her for the rest of his life. [Campus Date]

-

Gavin saved Minor from bullies. 

Minor also happens to be MC’s outgoing, talkative desk mate who sometimes helped old ladies cross the street. How he managed to hang around Gavin and not get beaten up, nobody knew (except us). He would often copy MC’s homework but never dragged her down with him if he got caught. This was MC’s biggest impression of him. 

During science class, MC cooked noodles for Minor on the Bunsen burner when he was hungry. The recipe was Shrimp flavoured instant noodles, mix two eggs in well, then add a dab of sea salt and black pepper. [S1 Chapter 7-1]

-

Gavin is always at the school gates at 7:30am. Carrying his flat school bag, he orders fish balls at the snack kiosk on the north side of the school. It was the third day in a row that Minor notices this. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin would occasionally travel around on his bicycle. (Pre-debut Sparky??) He says he was good at riding it. [Lost Love Date]

It was hard to find Gavin as he’s rarely at school, so she didn’t see him until 3 days later when MC went to the library at sunset. 

She tries to retrieve “Byron’s Poetry Collection” from the top of a 2-metre shelf, and since Gavin was a head taller, he was able to help her get it. 

He musters up the introduction that he recited many times- but MC quickly thanks him and leaves before he could speak.

Minor notices Gavin watching after MC and that he was SMIL-ING. 

He helps him locate MC and reports that every day after school she would go to the library for afternoon revision, always sitting in the same seat. 

Gavin sat at a corner not far, quietly flipping through textbooks he hated. People who were reading in the library would be driven away because they were scared of him LOL

MC would then leave at 5pm sharp to go back home. 

Gavin commits to walking back 10 metres behind her with Minor every day on forward. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets] 

-

Gavin saves Minor from bullies again. Minor dedicates himself to be his “bro”. 

He finds out that MC is an honours student, but doesn’t know that she’s the school orchestra leader. [Mystery Wings Event] and [Mark Date] However, he does know that she’s renowned as the “campus belle/ school flower”.

Minor idly mentions that more people were giving MC love letters.

Gavin tells Minor to collect all the people who were planning to confess their love to MC. Minor doesn’t want to be wingman anymore HAHA

Gavin stared those boys down as they trembled with fear. He tells them to take them back and if they scare her, he’ll make them regret it. 

Minor realises Gavin’s feelings for MC. [Minor’s Memory Book] 

-

MC eats from a small stall outside the school gate selling red bean puffs. ($3 for one, $5 for two. What a deal!) 

She also encounters the stall that sells sugar figurines [Gift of Life- Sugar Figurine Call]

MC ate chocolate sticks often at school. It's also a memory of student life for Gavin, as well. [CN 2021 March Sign-In Taste of Happiness]

Students would scramble for the small swing set in the school garden. MC never went at lunch breaks, but she watches the sunset on it after school. Gavin is sometimes nearby. MC never noticed him, but she does however notice the ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind. [Mini House Small Happening- Leisure Time]

-

Gavin isn’t his usual self anymore. He sees MC out in the library everyday and starts reading “5 Years of College Examinations and 3 Years of Sample Questions��� (book for colleague entrance examinations).

MC watches a basketball match at school. She calls someone from an away team “dashing” because they won with a dunk. This has been engraved in Gavin’s memory ever since. [Dreamers Date]

Gavin found out that he was very fond of basketball success stories, rushing into the court to try hundreds of shots after. He writes “I will beat you” beside Sakuragi Hanamichi from a Slam Dunk poster alongside “not a step back”.

(Slam Dunk starts out with a boy wanting to play basketball to impress his crush.)

Gavin then injures his head badly :(

He realises that basketball couldn’t help him to protect anything he wanted. He determines that he will do whatever it takes (to “beat” himself”). [Mystery Wings Event]

-

Gavin leans against a tree as he watches MC hurry down the corridor as she clutches a textbook. [Boundary Rumours and Secrets]

MC would eat pocky. Gavin would eat them too. [2021 March Sign-In Moments]

- 

MC faints during a sports meet because she didn’t eat breakfast.

Gavin hurries to carry her to the infirmary. [CN Delightful Search Date]

He leaves bread and milk before she wakes up.

-

MC is on duty during PE class, which happens to be on basketball. 

Minor was careless about his aim and the ball almost hit her in the head. Gavin slams the ball away. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin glares at Minor as MC thanks him.

Minor also “accidentally” pushes MC towards him.

Gavin glares again.

Gavin later is continuously shooting hoops. 

MC returns late at night to clean up the gym but all had been returned neatly in the basket. MC wanted to thank him but couldn’t. [CN Basketball Court Date]

-

There was a school sports competition that they attended. Gavin participated in the 10 lap race and came first by an impressive large measure. [Minor’s Memory Book]

MC participates in the sprint race, too. Gavin is worried about her performance, and if she would faint again. 

Gavin requests Minor to take a photo of her on his phone (which probably ended up as the photo that he carried with him in his early days at special training where the other men teased him about hiding a photo of a girl.) 

Approaching the End of October 

Gavin, Minor and MC are walking home. 

The weather is cold, and Gavin notices MC shivering in the distance. Gavin, conflicted by this, tells Minor to buy MC a hot drink without telling her that it was from him. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets] 

MC would occasionally spot a hot drink or a carton of strawberry milk in the piano room. [Chapter 31-12]

-

Gavin one day is conflicted by their early exchange, recalling how MC looks startled at the entrance of the library after seeing each other. His spirit depletes, kicking himself (metaphorically) in the corner of the classroom at how he might have scared her. 

Minor rushes in with a pink bandaid from MC for the wound at his mouth. 

He carefully took that bandaid, treating it as if it was his world’s most precious treasure.

This pink bandaid was always taped on his heart and whenever he stepped into the swamp-like darkness of the night, it gave off a faint warmth. [Mystery Wings Event]

-

MC starts to notice Gavin everywhere. At the corners of windows, she would see his figure. At the library, he would help her retrieve books from higher places. She would also see books laid out on his table, but most of the time he would be sleeping. Beneath his overlapping arms, he sees “Byron’s Poetry Collection”. Gavin doesn’t understand the poems, though. 

Lord Byron's "Don Juan" - Canto the Ninth, XVI 

"To be, or not to be?" — Ere I decide I should be glad to know that which is being? 'Tis true — we speculate both far and wide, And deem, because we see, we are all-seeing; For my part, I'll enlist on neither side Until I see both sides for once agreeing; For me, I sometimes think that Life is Death,

-

At the music rehearsal room on the fifth floor, she would see a corner of his shirt in the wind. 

MC thinks Gavin is friendly and slowly lets down her guard. 

At the canteen, he would offer her the last bottle of water. 

She begins smiling at him when they see each other, with the small arcs forming on her lips, soon becoming smiles that made her eyes squint.

-

MC would walk along the Senior hallways and subconsciously stop at a certain classroom- catching the sight of Gavin sleeping. On one particular day, she sees him standing by the window, staring at the sky. 

-

Minor asks Gavin if he could form a band with him. Gavin rejects him. He then asks Gavin if he wanted to join the school’s singing competition. Gavin rejects him again, saying that he didn’t perform for unimportant people or have others tell him how well he could play.

MC plays “Falling Slowly” on the piano. Gavin hearing this, learns to play the guitar. He doesn’t know the name of the song but familiarises himself with the melody. [CN Music and the Past Call]

-

Whenever school let students out early, she would go to Lynn’s Kitchen. MC gets her noodles with clear broth, chopped scallions and a half-boiled egg. Gavin usually gets his spicy noodles with garlic, cilantro, thinly sliced beef.

Gavin remembers her favourite order. 

MC leaves a post-it note at Lynn’s Kitchen, “I might never see you again and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I miss you”, about a friend who transferred schools. 

Gavin knows she hates people who leave without saying goodbye the most.

Gavin, also in the vicinity near Lynn’s Kitchen, writes a post note.  “Until I met you.” [Mystery Box Game]

He saves Mr Noah’s son from an accident, immediately takes him to the hospital and pays for the medical fees. [Anime]

-

Gavin dismisses rumours of high school romance. 

“If you confessed on the 7th step of the stairway in the corner of the 3rd floor then it’ll succeed, or if you carved your name and another person’s name on the 6th tree in the courtyard at the back then your misunderstandings will be resolved, or if a guy gave the girl he liked the second button of his uniform on graduation day then the two of them will end up happy together.”

At lunch, he hears MC talking about the second button, and upon seeing her yearning face, he raises his head in thought, suddenly couldn’t wait for graduation. He tears off his second button. [Mystery Wings Event]

Gavin is just in love at this point.

-

Gavin sees one of the top students stealing money from a shop outside of school. The shopkeeper doesn’t believe him. 

He stops the student on his way home to hand him back the money. 

MC sees him at the alley then leaves.

Gavin spent all the money on a walkman he wanted for a very long time.

Mr Keller was the only one who believed in him. He said to him, “Since you can’t change what others think of you, you might as well just listen to your heart.” This had a great impact on Gavin. [Campus Date] 

Winter 

In the snowfall, the school allowed additional ten minutes of break time. The class next to MC’s stuffed Minor’s shirt with snowballs.

Gavin thought of helping him with a counterattack but MC had already returned a snowball to the male student who pulled the prank. 

Gavin looks at MC the whole time. [CN Recovery ASMR]

-

MC overheads girls in her class say that Gavin had bullied students for lunch money that morning. 

MC rides her bike back home after studying at the library for her finals. 

MC sees Gavin being handed an envelope full of money at Lynn’s Kitchen in an alleyway. 

She mistook it for him taking protection money. 

-

Summer of June 2011

On a humid afternoon, MC looks outside the window of the classroom in boredom. A boy in a loose-fitting school uniform ran by. She couldn’t make out his face. [S1 Chapter 7-23]

MC begins to distance herself from Gavin. She rushes out of class and goes straight home instead.

Gavin is sad. He broods by the piano room, goes to the library to brood, then stares at the place MC sits to brood some more. 

Minor wonders how he’s able to stare all afternoon at an empty space in the library but sleeps all day during class hours. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Before graduation, Gavin’s father expresses his thoughts for Gavin to join the organisation for special training. Gavin refuses, but his father uses MC to influence him to agree. 

Gavin remembers the panic and timidity in MC’s eyes when she first met him. He recalls that moment was probably the hardest to bear in his life.

Gavin in his short period of freedom writes a letter to MC. He ponders about what to say, thinking about their first encounter, and how she started to distance herself from him. But all he writes is-  

“Saturday 9am, I will be at the school library waiting for you.

-Gavin.”

-

MC attends the flag-raising ceremony and rehearses her speech. She then leaves to study for her exams. 

Meanwhile, Gavin finishes a fight with other boys from school in an alley after they talk inappropriately about MC. [Old Days Date]

Gavin, bloodied and bruised, asks Minor to make another copy of his letter. 

This is the only thing that Gavin had asked Minor to do so of course, he agreed. [Chapter 7-11]

Minor thinks the letter is a symbol of passion and fierce love due to the bloodstains and decides to keep the original. 

He writes “GAVIN” and places it on MC’s desk for her to see the next day. 

(In the Campus Date, the older MC is the one who finds him instead of Minor and treats him to his injuries. She ends up seeing the contents of the letter to find him later on.)

MC mistakes the letter as a threat and throws it away. 

That Weekend

Gavin sits for 14 hours in the library waiting for MC, scanning the library every now and then.

With a fingertip, he rubs “Byron’s Poetry Collection” and carefully sandwiches a dried and yellowed ginkgo leaf into the book. He suddenly felt a measure of self-deprecation.

He stands up, and leaves, his heart filled with regret that he didn’t give it to her personally. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets]

After Summer Break- July 

Minor never saw Gavin, and neither did MC. 

“We met often, but never passed by each other. I remember every moment I saw you in school. Time, location, weather, your expression, your clothes...

-I remember them all.”

[perrywander]

Night 1 | 11:30 pm

Originally posted on Ao3, but I decided to post it on Tumblr as well. This is an AU in which Gregory teamed up with Monty instead of Freddy, with a fresh twist on the story. It sticks with the Game plot for the first few chapters then diverges into it's own fully fledged idea that I hope you guys enjoy! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! And, as always, stay weird my lovelies!

And, if any of you are interested in throwing me a tip, why don't you buy me a coffee?

Table of Contents

Gregory was unceremoniously jostled out of his light doze when the animatronic that he was tucked inside of quite suddenly came back online and immediately lurched into motion with an enraged snarl.

The cramped space got impossibly smaller as the gator hunched low with a growl, Gregory’s poorly chosen hiding spot becoming a lot more uncomfortable as the animatronic charged into something that broke with an audible crack. The brunet flinched when the muffled sound of fabric shredding reached him, the robot destroying what sounded like a sofa with extreme prejudice.

So, not only was Gregory stuck inside a rampaging machine, but he was also in quite a bit of discomfort because of all the metal jamming into any and all visible skin, painting his body with bruises. One particularly aggressive movement had Gregory's throbbing shoulder scream in protest, his traitorous vocal cords producing a whimper before he could stop himself. 

The pathetic sound echoed throughout his metal refuge like a gunshot, the racket just outside the hatch abruptly falling into an ominous silence that made goosebumps erupt on the brunet's arms and legs. Gregory held his breath, not even daring to breathe now that the animatronic knew he was there.

"What? A kid?” A mechanical voice pierced through the mounting tension, the gator sounding more baffled than homicidal by the prospect of a child being in its vicinity.

“Ya ain’t gotta be scared, kid. I’ll turn on the light, yeah?” The robot spoke in a soft voice that could trick any kid into approaching it if they hadn’t been lucky enough to hear the gator rampaging just moments before. Thankfully, Gregory was one of the few that wouldn’t be coaxed out of his hiding spot by the animatronic’s false display of friendliness, despite how badly he wanted to get away from the wayward pieces of metal jabbing into him with every minute shift of the robot he was stuck inside of.

Gregory heard the gator move, traveling across the room to where the brunet guessed the lightswitch was, the barely audible click indicating that the robot had done as promised and illuminated the room. Most likely trying to make nice with Gregory so he let his guard down. Well screw that, death by mutilation was decidedly not the way he wanted to go.

“Huh? Where’re ya kid?" The animatronic asked in blatant confusion, the gator’s thundering steps vibrating through its frame as it prowled around the room in what Gregory assumed was an attempt to locate him.

Unfortunately for the gator, the brunet had absolutely zero intention of showing himself after both hearing and feeling exactly how unfriendly and hostile this particular overgrown children’s toy was. The last thing he needed -on top of the already shitty day he’d had- was to be ripped to bloody pieces by some malfunctioning tourist attraction.

He wanted to keep all his limbs right where they were, thank you very much.

"I ain't gonna hurtcha, kid." The gator -Gregory couldn’t quite recall its name- crooned in a surprisingly gentle Louisiana drawl that he had to admit was actually quite nice to listen to.

"C'mon out." The animatronic coaxed in that same deceptively soothing tone and the brunet could hear the gator move something heavy, which indicated that the robot was indeed looking for him. Though the brunet figured that, if he could stay undetected long enough, then maybe it would lose interest.

But all of his hopes of escape were swiftly dashed when the animatronic made a movement that Gregory recognized as bending over, the stomach cavity shifting and causing the mechanical stuff around him to adjust with the motion.

Unfortunately, the brunet wasn't able to brace himself in time to avoid getting tossed forward into the sealed hatch doors that were holding him in, his knee taking the brunt of the impact as it rammed into the panel of textured metal, which scraped a few layers of skin off and made his nerves light up with pain.

Gregory yelped as he threw his hands out to catch himself before his face could meet the same fate as his throbbing knee, the seemingly deafening sound of his palms hitting the sealed hatch door echoing around him and making the boy freeze in horror.

"Tell me yer jokin'." The animatronic choked out, the gator actually sounding quite stunned upon realizing that the child it had been searching for was a lot closer than it’d initially anticipated as it immediately straightened out of its doubled over position.

Gregory let out a sigh of relief when he was given space to push himself away from the metal paneling and scramble backward, the brunet briefly allowing himself to be impressed with the Glamrock animatronics ability to express emotion despite their facial features having a limited range of movement.

The gator was equipped with some seriously impressive programming.

"That ain't safe! Get outta there!" The gator exclaimed before its stomach hatch dropped open, a clawed hand coming into view as the animatronic blindly reached inside the cramped space in an attempt to grab Gregory, who did his best to duck away from those alarmingly sharp fingertips.

Who the hell put claws on a robot anyway? Especially if said robot was meant to interact with children. Fazbear Entertainment might claim that the animatronics were totally safe, but there were more than enough interviews with aggrieved customers and pending lawsuits that he’d read in the weekly newspaper to indicate otherwise.

Harmless his ass.

The brunet cried out when his forearm was captured, the gator pulling the boy out of his hiding place with little fanfare. Gregory didn’t hang from the captured limb for more than maybe half a second before the robot’s other hand engulfed the majority of his waist as the first appendage relinquished its grip on the boy, who kicked and struggled in the gator’s unrelenting hold.

“Let me go!” The brunet snapped, fingers uselessly prying at the shiny plastic digits that held him hostage as he kicked out at the robot with his uninjured leg.

“What were ya doin’ in my stomach? That ain’t a place for kids, even if they're runts like you.” The robot shook Gregory a bit, the sharp movement making his head swim and his shoulder twinge.

“Stop it! That hurts!” The brunet hissed through clenched teeth, and Gregory was caught off-guard when the gator actually heeded his words with a muttered apology that was horribly stilted and gruff but perfectly sincere, it's grip on his person gentling a considerable amount.

“Now put me down!” Gregory barked, hoping that the gator’s previous easy acquiescence meant that it was in a charitable mood. However, instead of complying with his command, the animatronic merely tilted its head in an eerily human manner.

“Ya gonna run if I do?” The gator countered, still not budging as Gregory squirmed with all the fervor of a feral alley cat. Though, when it became abundantly clear that he wasn’t going to be able to fight his way out of the animatronic’s hold, the brunet begrudgingly stilled as he carefully considered his options, his suspicion and fear only slightly assuaged by the fact that the robot had yet to report him to that shady security lady or horribly maim him.

“No.” Gregory decided at last, giving up his useless struggling before meeting the gator’s unblinking burgundy stare. They held eye contact for a few seconds -which felt more like years- then the brunet’s feet met solid ground and the massive hand around his waist retreated.

Gregory had to crane his neck back in order to properly look at the animatronic, which swiftly stooped down to kneel in front of him in a surprising show of accommodation since the brunet was almost insultingly short compared to the robot’s massive frame, the gator standing at a staggering seven feet.

“Good. Now hold still, kid.” The gator hummed before its eyes glowed a vibrant blue and projected a beam of light that scanned over Gregory’s thin frame, the brunet resisting the urge to fidget under the animatronic’s scrutiny as shame and anger welled up inside of his chest, hyper-aware of how he looked with his ratty, oversized clothes and dirty face as he frowned distrustfully at the robot.

“Scan complete.” The animatronic’s tail swayed sporadically behind it and Gregory wondered if the extra limb was malfunctioning or something, his focus drawn away from the flicking appendage when the gator leaned in until there was barely an inch of space between them.

“Hm. Ya don’t got a guest profile. What’s your name, kid?” The robot asked, those burgundy eyes pinning him in place with an intensity that made the boy feel as if he were being dissected.

“I… I’m Gregory.” The brunet stammered, caught off guard by the animatronic’s unexpected interest in him.

“Gregory.” The gator parroted as he leaned back a bit, the syllables smothered in that southern drawl that had somehow become a sound that could calm his rattled nerves a bit. The boy’s stiff posture relaxed without his explicit permission, his body too exhausted to remain coiled now that there was no immediate threat to his person.

"I’ll notify the main office-” The gator was cut off when the brunet suddenly lurched forward, hands grabbing the robot’s snout as if the action alone would be able to stop the animatronic from doing so.

“No! You can’t! She’ll get me!” Gregory objected in an octave dangerously close to shrill, his shoulder throbbing from the abrupt and harsh movement of the injured joint. The animatronic blinked, staring at the brunet with an unnatural blankness that made it impossible for Gregory to know what was going through the gator’s head.

“Well, I can’t connect ta the main network anyway. Who’s after ya? Are ya in danger?” The animatronic’s questions held the dangerous undercurrent of a growl that belonged more to a large dog than an alligator, but it was extremely intimidating regardless.

“The security guard.” Gregory blurted before he could think better of it, because obviously the damn security guard would be looking for him since he had snuck into the pizzaplex earlier today. But there was just… something off about her, something Gregory couldn’t name but felt acutely as soon as they had made eye contact.

“Vanessa? She’s after ya?” The gator asked with another eerily human tilt of its head and Gregory took an involuntary step back from the animatronic, unsure of whether he should make a run for it. The robot was incredibly hard to read, probably due to its limited facial expressions. Fortunately for Gregory, the gator’s body language was far more revealing when it came to what the animatronic was thinking.

“If that’s her name, then yeah.” The brunet retorted tersely, crossing his arms as his gaze briefly darted away from the gator’s unblinking stare before he forced himself to maintain eye contact because he refused to be cowed by a machine.

“Ya do realize that yer here awful late, yeah?” The gator asked, amusement bleeding into his tone, and Gregory’s lips pressed into a tight line to avoid saying something snide that would definitely piss the robot off. Though the brunet’s face must’ve said it for him because the animatronic raised its hands in a placating manner that -admittedly- did manage to temper his anger and frustration. If only a little.

“Look, why don’t you just help me get out of here?” Gregory suggested, a little desperately if he was being honest, but he certainly wasn’t above playing into how young and scared he was in order to get his way. Not when the alternative was being handed over to the creepy security guard.

The gator visibly hesitated, body stiff and awkward as it slowly let its arms drop back to its sides, and the brunet subtly glanced around the room for a possible escape route should the robot insist on getting a figure of authority involved. The animatronic didn’t appear to notice Gregory do so, as caught up with contemplating its options as it was. But, after a long moment, the gator straightened up out of its crouch to tower over the brunet.

“Ya know what? Sure. I’ve been itchin' fer a jailbreak.” The robot said decisively, nodding to itself. Gregory tried not to let his overwhelming relief show, fighting the urge to burst into tears like some kind of baby now that he had a potential ally in this nightmare.

“I can’t leave the room though, the door only opens from the outside.” The gator tapped the pad of its finger against its lower jaw, head tipping up to stare at the ceiling -as if in thought- before it paused. “That’s it. The vent.” The animatronic suddenly announced, twisting to gracefully leap up and tear the grate off of said vent, carelessly tossing the damaged object behind itself. The cover landed with a thunderous crash on the other side of the room, the brunet cringing at the racket that the robot was making.

Surely someone would come investigate the noise? But then again, the room was dimmed and the curtains were drawn… so maybe it wouldn’t be a problem? Regardless, Gregory wasn't all that inclined to wager his life on a maybe.

“Would you keep it down? You’re going to get us caught!” The brunet kept his voice low, arms crossing over his chest when the gator ignored his comment in favor of poking the majority of its snout into the vent shaft. A familiar blue glow lit up the crawlspace for a few seconds before the animatronic finally pulled away, dropping back to the floor with enough force to shake the room.

“The integrity 's intact, so it should hold ya.” The robot relayed to the frowning boy, who was starting to doubt going through with this potentially dangerous idea.

“How will I get a hold of you if something goes wrong?” Gregory pointed out and the gator seemed to think about it for a moment before the robot trotted over to its vanity and aggressively yanked the middle drawer open in order to rummage inside, quietly grumbling to itself all the while. When the gator found what it was looking for, it faced the brunet and extended its hand, revealing what looked to be a colorful bear-themed watch nestled in the center of its palm.

“It’s a Faz-watch. I’ll be able ta keep in contact with ya usin' it.” The animatronic explained and Gregory accepted the device, securing it to his wrist before curiously poking at the dark screen. It came to life with a chime that made him jump before aiming an unimpressed glare at the smug gator.

“I made some adjustments, now no one but yours truly will be able ta access it.” The robot mused, sounding awfully proud of itself.

“Can you turn down the volume? I don’t need the stupid thing giving me away if I’m trying to be stealthy.” Gregory muttered, tapping the surface in order to familiarize himself with his new accessory. There was no response and the brunet looked up just in time to see the weird flicker of white static that had overtaken the robot’s burgundy eyes before it cut out and the color returned to normal like nothing had happened.

“Done.” The gator declared, its gaze focusing on the mildly creeped out boy.

“What was that?” Gregory blurted before he could think better of it, giving himself a mental kick when the animatronic stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“What was what?” The robot asked, clearly puzzled as to what the brunet might be referring to. Gregory shifted from foot to foot nervously, figuring that he might as well follow through with his question.

“That thing with your eyes?” The brunet clarified and the gator’s burgundy gaze widened in recognition as it nodded absently.

“I was adjustin' the settin's like ya wanted.” The animatronic shrugged, sauntering over to position itself directly under the vent before beckoning Gregory closer with a wave of his hand.

“Right. So all I have to do is open the door? Then you’ll help me leave?” The brunet didn’t struggle when he was picked up, the gator guiding him up to the opening.

“That’s the idea, kid. But ya contact me if ya see the lady that’s after ya, got it?” The animatronic waited until the brunet was halfway in the shaft before letting him go, the boy twisting as best he could in order to look back at the gator.

“Okay. Thanks, uh…” Gregory’s mouth pressed into a thin line as his face heated in embarrassment, but the robot didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t know its name, looking more amused than anything.

“Jus' call me Monty.”

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.”

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 12)

A/n: I would like to apologize for not marking warnings on each part like I should have been. I get too excited to post and skip over them on accident. I’ll do my best to add them from here on! Also, I was adding the warnings as I wrote but then they didn’t save so I tried to remember them as best I could. If I forgot anything, I sincerely apologize.

Warnings: Recounting past trauma (physical abuse, homophobia), explicit talk of death, badly handling others’ trauma, light smut (foreplay: slapping, choking, degradation, daddy kink, handcuff restraining, brat/dom dynamic, punishing, teasing, masterbation)

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

The air was so thick with tension that a knife could have cut through it. No matter how much Harley was fighting his instincts to lounge and be himself - the self Jeremiah was used to, at the very least - he felt like he had to be the self he used to be. The one Bruce was expecting. Jeremiah knew Harley was trying too hard, and Jeremiah was far too easy to read - which meant that Bruce knew too. So Harley sat there trying to behave and Bruce sat there brimming with suspicion and pain and hesitation and Jeremiah sat between the two boys, wishing this had never happened and he could just escape the two brothers who seemed seconds from either running or fighting.

Echo, as if sent from God, walked into the room with a pitcher of water. They were at Jeremiah's instead of Wayne manor as Harley had absolutely no intention of being back there or anywhere near Alfred. The butler was far too good at accepting change, which meant that the man might pick up on the fact that Harley was no longer Y/n and the whole thing would fall apart. Honestly, it seemed like so much work. Harley wasn't sure why this plan was so important but Jerome was feeding off of it so Harley did it anyway because he'd said he would. If this is where Jerome lead, Harley would follow.

"So," Echo cut into the silence as she walked around pouring drinks. "How is everyone this evening?"

Harley smiled at her, amused. She was poorly hiding a sort of awkward expression that was dashed with a little humor. She was mocking them in her head; Harley could almost hear what she was thinking. A bunch of dumb boys sitting around a table unable to swallow their pride. Idiots. "Oh you know," Harley mumbled casually, shrugging. "Indulging." He motioned to his food but his words were obviously directed at the ambiance.

"Having a good time?" Echo asked.

"Not at all," Harley immediately answered with the same casual, chipper tone. Jeremiah choked on his drink as he laughed at the exchange. The humor delivered saltiness in Harley's voice and the passive aggressive mocking in Echo's had always been an exchange that could make Jeremiah chuckle at least a little. Echo and Harley were very good at banter and it lightened the mood significantly every time they went at it. After all, it was just in good fun. Bruce seemed to relax as a smile curled everyone else's lips. "So... Harley." His lips seemed to want to reject the name.

Harley's smile dropped. Hearing Bruce call him that made him uncomfortable. Not just because he was nervous about Bruce not calling him Y/n as he had all up until this point but because he had cut Bruce out of this new life very purposefully and now... he was in it anyway. "Yes?"

Echo sighed and left the room as she sensed Harley jerk back, even with her attempt to loosen everyone up. Jeremiah focused on his food. Bruce looked at Harley but Harley did not look back, instead choosing to stare at the door Echo had gone through. "Why Harley?"

That was an easy question. "When I was in Arkham, a few of the guards used to beat the shit out of me every single day to try and convince me to be straight." Harley looked Bruce in the eye when he said this, completely calm. He had long since gotten over it. "They even put me in isolation to keep me away from people who might protect me or care about me."

"Jerome." Bruce didn't form it like a question.

Harley answered anyway. "Yes. But see this is a smaller world than everyone thought and my therapist, Harleen Quinzel, became my friend instead. She's like me, but for girls." Bruce nodded, accepting that. "They couldn't kill me without having to mark me as a loss. That and they'd have lost their punching bag. To teach me a lesson, they killed her. And then made sure the TV that was never supposed to be on the news would be on the news, on just the channel and at just the time that would allow me to see her bloody, bruised, cold, dead body strewn out for the public to see. And no one gave a single shit because no crimes in Gotham get solved unless someone important is involved. And even then- well, you know first hand."

Bruce's expression grew very dark. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Harley purred, still eating as if he was talking about the weather.

Jeremiah has stopped eating. "People are really like that?" His voice was small and his eyes moved to Bruce, his hands tightening around his silverware as if picturing Bruce's face cold and dead and staring at him through a TV. Bruce felt his eyes and looked back to Jeremiah, but the red head averted his gaze to Harley instead. "I mean, people really act like that just because of... how someone loves?"

Harley nodded, swallowing the food in his mouth. It tasted like sand but he kept eating it. It made him feel powerful to while the others in the room had forgotten their food altogether. Although... Perhaps he hadn't chewed it as well as he thought because it felt as if it had gotten stuck somewhere along the way. A thick lump had lodged for a second and a sick feeling had settled in the bottom of his stomach. He hadn't thought about that image in so long... the daily bearings and the isolation and the one ray of light he'd gotten being extinguished and displayed because he had dared to be himself and therefore allowed her to do the same. Because they were different than how most people were.

"Do you know who did it?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah." That didn't seem to be the answer Bruce was expecting. "This isn't great table conversation," Harley eased, changing the subject. "But that is why I go by Harley. Do you like it?"

Bruce shrugged. "Do you still go by Wayne?"

Internally, Harley sighed. "Harley Quinn."

At that Bruce nodded. "You're not coming back are you?"

Harley laughed dryly. "You're not very good at casual, light conversation are you Brucey?"

"Don't call me that," Bruce snapped, body going stiff.

Rolling his eyes, Harley sat back in his seat. "Why not?" It came out harsher than Harley had meant it.

Meeting hostility with hostility, Bruce got angry as well. "Because that's what Jerome called me, and after how many times he tried to kill me it's not a name I like."

"Get over it," Harley sneered. "It's just a name and we're in Gotham. Trauma is kind of a part of life here. Adapt or get trampled."

Bruce jerked back. "Get over it? Since when are you...?" He trailed off, as if hesitating, before his face set and he finished his sentence with a much harder tone. "Like Jerome."

Harley felt his knuckles turn white. "Stop saying that like it's a bad thing." "It is!" Bruce hissed.

Harley shot to his feet, dropping his silverware on the table. Jeremiah flinched but Harley didn't notice. Bruce did. "Look, Jerome is fucked up and dark and broken. He doesn't have a grip on reality or know how to human because he wasn't fucking treated like one. He killed people. He was crazy and insane and unhinged and dangerous. Yeah! You know what else he was? He was understanding and accepting. He got why people lived their lives differently than he did and didn't really judge anyone, ever. He thought they were boring and chose to live differently, sure, but he lived to make people laugh and have fun. Maybe his sense of fun was fucked up, but he genuinely just wanted people to laugh along with him for once. He didn't hide who he really was. He wasn't ashamed. He didn't shun me and shove me in a corner and try to change me. He accepted who I was. He CELEBRATED me. I'd rather be with him than at this stupid fucking dinner or anywhere near you because I'm not some poor gay boy who needs saving. I'm strong and I matter and I FINALLY love myself, and you won't ever take that away from me because you see self respect and see Jerome because no one taught you that you are more important than everyone else. I refuse to sit here and let you try and turn me into some pathetic whiny brooding mess who's never happy because my priorities are fucked up. I won't be you. That isn't my goal anymore."

The room was dead quiet. For a long time, no one said anything. The brothers just stared each other down until Bruce shook his head. "Perhaps this was a bad idea."

Jeremiah pinched the bridge of his nose. "You guys are idiots." The other two in the room looked at the red head with shock. "My brother is dead, and honest to god it's a relief that he is. He's out of my life and I'm safe from him. I never had the chance to have a real relationship with him. I used to read the newspaper about your family and think that you guys were some kind of dream. Two brothers that loved each other despite everything and parents that were like... actually good people on any level." He sighed. "Obviously I was wrong. You're too busy trying to make him how he used to be." This he directed at Bruce. "And you're too busy hurting and bottling up your emotions and pushing everyone away to let anyone care about you or see the real you." This was for Harley. Jeremiah didn't stop when both other boys went to speak though. "Just shut up and make this work because you guys are the only true family you each have left. Harley, you grew up and I have to say you wear your changes very well. You're happier and sturdier and if someone isn't happy about that then they're insane. Right, Bruce?"

The Wayne boy hesitated before giving in. "Yeah. I am happy for you. I should have started with that. I just... I'm scared for you."

"Why?" Harley demanded, exasperated.

"Because I don't want you to become Jerome. I don't want you to end up like that. I don't want you to be some criminal, when you used to be the best person I knew. You said your life goal used to be being like me? No. I wanted so much to be like you. You couldn't speak about a huge part of you, but you accepted it with the knowledge no one else ever would. I refused to even look at the fact that I'm attracted to guys until you and Jerome got together and then..." his eyes shot to Jeremiah and then back. "Things happened and- and you were always so bright and happy and free. Like a bird in flight or- something." He shook his head. "You were inspiring, Y/n. Seeing you like this... it looks like you've been broken. And I just want to bring back that light you had before. When you seemed so much happier."

"I'm not broken." Harley looked at the boy who was supposed to be his brother. The boy who used to be his best friend before one lie after another had pulled them further and further apart until they were on completely opposite sides. Secrets had torn their relationship up into so many little bits it could never be repaired. They were just too different now. "I'm not lost or struggling. I'm just not... sitting there and pretending all the bad things aren't happening. The friends I have now actually like and respect me as a person, not just because I'm Y/n Wayne. I'm myself, proudly, and I wear my experiences as a reminder of what I can endure. Things hurt less. What you see isn't some poor boy waiting to be saved. It's darkness. And maybe that scares you, because you're used to hiding your darkness. But darkness, Bruce, isn't a bad thing. Darkness is what makes us who we are. Like everything it can be used as a weapon, but Darkness itself isn't dangerous. What you do with it is."

Bruce considered that for a long time. "That... is a good point."

Jeremiah released a breath. "So... truce?" The boys looked at each other before shrugging. Harley sat back down. Jeremiah seemed pleased. "Okay, now lets talk about something a little more pleasant."

"So you mean literally anything other than what any of us have been up to recently?" Harley sassed. Jeremiah shot him a look. "Okay fine whatever." He searched for some light conversation. "So you guys are like boyfriends now or what?"

That seemed to make Bruce and Jeremiah both blush and the air in the room cleared significantly. Harley pulled off being cheery and invested as he teased and prodded and asked questions and engaged. Things almost seemed like they used to be when Bruce and Y/n would sit with their parents and Bruce mentioned a girl and Y/n would go off about how he was going to be the best man or the world would surely end... but Harley wasn't Y/n and Jeremiah wasn't their parents. This wasn't Wayne Manor and as good of a server as Echo was, she wasn't a butler. She wasn't Alfred.

Under the light tone, Harley formed a plan. A plan he carried out as he and Bruce began to hang out more and more as time passed that night and stretched for a while. Jerome became nocturnal in favor of being awake when Harley finally returned at home. The boys would spend some time together and then sleep and then Harley would wake up and go out and spend time with Bruce and Jeremiah again. Slowly the time with the other boys began to cut into Harley's time with Jerome and both he and Harley were getting restless. They'd begun arguing about it.

"Stay in tonight," Jerome whined.

"Bruce wants me to come back to Wayne manor tonight." Harley sighed, an odd expression on his face. "I've finally earned his trust and am getting along with him - as much as it pains me. I think Jeremiah is talking to him when I'm not around, convincing him to behave and respect my boundaries. He calls me Harley and has stopped expecting me to be the person I used to be. I don't know, I think he'll be enough to convince Alfred though I might have to try a tad harder." He rubbed his forehead. "Soon I'm sure I'll be chummy with them again and that'll definitely lead to interacting with all of Bruce's friends - which will be a whole other adventure of its own."

Jerome huffed. "If you're going back to Wayne manor, won't Bruce want you to move back in?"

The thought had occurred to Harley if he was being honest. Where did he draw the line in being buddy buddy with his brother again? Where did he stop things? How far did Jerome want him to go? "Probably," Harley voiced, shrugging. There was a long pause. Jerome was more guarded than he usually was and it set Harley on edge. When the red head did speak, it was in a dangerously quiet tone. "Would you go?"

"W- would you want me to?" Harley was distracted by the way Jerome's Adam's Apple moved when he swallowed.

Jerome hummed. "So this is still about what I want?"

That made Harley defensive. "You think I'm dealing with my arrogant brother because I want to?" It had a biting edge to it.

"And what about my brother?" Jerome pushed.

Now Harley was confused. "Jerome I did all of this for you. To convince them you were dead so you'd be free to have some free time and then make your grand entrance whenever you wanted to. I did this because you asked me to." Jerome rolled his eyes. "You've been gone a lot. You come home... lighter. You enjoy your time with them."

"I'm sorry, you WANT me to come home miserable?" Harley sneered, his hands coiling into fists.

Jerome's eyes darkened. Harley realized what was happening. Before he could react, Jerome's hand shot out, fingers curling around Harley's throat. Jerome pressed his boyfriend against the closest wall, his face close and words sharp like knives. "You're getting angry again. Talking to me like that, as if I'm one of our dumb brothers or that blonde idiot Jeremiah carries around. You might have been gone for a while now, but SURELY not long enough to have forgotten to respect me."

Harley gasped, eyes fluttering closed. Jerome's grip wasn't dangerous but it could go that way if Harley wasn't careful. Jerome only ever got like this when he was frustrated. Usually when he was bored and wanted to do something other than sit around. To be fair, he was cooped up which was something he HATED to be. He hated feeling trapped. And on top of that Harley had been spending less and less time around the place. It was a miracle the redhead had behaved so long. Harley had spent more nights with Jeremiah, talking to Bruce so late into the night and fake catching up and playing nice that it was just easier for them both stay at Jeremiah's. Alfred had even gotten used to a simple text from Bruce letting the older man know where he was and that he was safe. If Bruce wasn't home by 10pm Alfred had come to expect that he wouldn't be back at all. It had become a sort of habit.

Perhaps Harley had been a tad neglectful.

He sighed, letting his guard down and releasing all the tension he'd gained from being around Bruce. Jerome didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry, you're right." Jerome didn't let up. "Oh so you shoot me puppy dog eyes and say sorry and that's supposed to be it?" Harley could feel his insides warming as Jerome grew closer, the air in the room slowly becoming infected with sexual tension. The sudden mood change was hard for Y/n to switch gears to, even though he was immediately eager. "You've forgotten who you belong to."

"I-"

Jerome's hand tightened on Harley's throat, cutting off any attempt to speak. "What was that?" Harley coughed a little as the initial shock took him off guard. His eyes fluttered but he could still breathe which is what mattered. "Come on, Harley. Come on, Y/n." Harley jerked at the name. "Is that what you want me to call you? Is that who you want to be?"

Harley wasn't dealing with that shit. His body jerked, arms wrapping around Jerome. He pulled hard, twisting to turn Jerome around so he'd have to let Harley go, or risk hurting his arm. As predicted, Jerome let go. Harley twisted their bodies with extreme force, pushing Jerome's face into the wall aggressively. "What the fuck did you call me?" He growled. The words were raw from his throat being a little sore. It made Jerome smile. "Answer me. Now." Harley let his free hand thread into Jerome's hair. He pulled, the red head squirming underneath him as it began to hurt. "I said, now."

"I called you Y/n," Jerome answered softly. His tone was half reluctance and half defiance. He didn't want to answer Harley like he'd been told to, but saying the name again did give him power.

Harley leaned back, pulling Jerome away from the wall just by his hair. He dragged him over to the bed. "Kneel. Now." Jerome was giggling as Y/n hurt him, getting off on the pain. "NOW, Valeska!" Jerome smirked, taking his precious time with following the order. When he was down, Y/n maneuvered his face into the bed. "Stay there. If you move, I will know and you will be punished. I will be back in a moment." He left Jerome there, ducking out of the bedroom to the trunk in the bathroom, shoved in the closet. He opened it, pushing around some things they'd collected in their time together. This was the stuff they used when things got more kinky. Handcuffs Jerome had gotten from cops even before he and Y/n were together. Rope from a construction sight. Some things were specifically from sex stores - stolen of course.

Ignoring most of it, Harley grabbed the handcuffs and went back into the room. He returned to see Jerome had indeed moved. In fact he was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. He was smirking at Harley, a dare in his eyes. The red head seemed to be expecting Harley to lose his shit, but Harley didn't. Instead, he got very still, thinking. That seemed to actually make Jerome nervous.

Slipping the handcuffs into his back pocket, Harley slowly approached Jerome. His eyes cut into Jerome's soul, his jaw so tightly shut that Jerome shivered. "What, you think you're going to look at me and-?"

Jerome didn't get to finish his sentence. Out of nowhere, unexpectedly, Harley backhanded Jerome, causing the sitting boy's head to snap to the side. The red head was shocked, but found his stomach twisting with the familiar sensation of arousal. This wasn't like when he was a kid. Harley was calm and controlled - even his hit was direct. There was a safety in the way that Harley controlled himself. Jerome didn't fear him. It left room to enjoy what was happening. Harley gripped Jerome's jaw, bringing the red head's brown eyes around to meet his. "What did I say when I left the room, Jerome?" Harley not using a pet name in a sexual situation made Jerome shift nervously. Was Harley actually mad? "You told me not to move."

Harley released a breath, smirking as he got turned on just by getting Jerome to answer his question without being pushed. When Jerome was being bratty, he refused Harley any amount of control. So when he let up even the smallest amount, it never failed to excite Harley. "And what did you do?" Unwilling to let Harley win twice in a row, Jerome shrugged. Harley slapped him again. The red head blinked, breathing sharply outward as he felt the stinging on his face. "I moved."

A hum came from Harley as he stood, crossing his arms. "You know I had to punish you for using the wrong name, but it was going to be pretty light. Now..." Jerome shivered under that look - like Harley was trying to figure just how to kill him. "I'm going to take your clothes off Jerome. If you fight me, you'll get immediate punishment do you understand?" Jerome nodded. Harley rose an eyebrow.

"Yes, Daddy."

That seemed to please Harley. He stopped glaring at least. First Harley removed Jerome's shirt. Then he gently nudged Jerome, and the redhead followed the flow and laid back on the bed. Harley then removed his pants, and his socks one at a time. Slowly. Jerome felt himself get antsy. "Do you want something, baby?" Harley asked evenly.

"I'm fine," Jerome responded.

Unfortunately for him, his erection gave him away. "You don't want me to do... anything?" Harley asked again, pausing to look at Jerome very carefully.

The redhead looked back for a long time, a battle happening between the two men. Jerome lost. "Jesus Christ Harley, touch me."

That got Harley to smile. "Ask nicely J, or I'm going to have to punish you." Jerome went to glare but Harley reached up, threading his fingers through Jerome's hair and pulling roughly. "Listen here bitch, I'm not here to mess around. You're going to listen to me or you're going to regret it, understand?" They had come a long way since having sex in a cell and trying to keep quiet. Back then, Harley had fumbled and blushed a lot and been overwhelmed very easily. Back then, Jerome would stretch out, getting comfortable as he bossed Harley around - a true power bottom. Or, he would top, and then he'd get very soft and quiet and affectionate... Well, compared to how he usually was when he was impossible to please and degrading to an extent that had driven Harley insane.

Now adays, things were different. There was a huge power play between the two men constantly, and endlessly pushing buttons. What would often happen was that Harley would be a bit of a brat but otherwise let Jerome blow off steam, unless it was a day that Jerome desperately wanted Harley to "take hold and ruin" him. A direct quote from the ginger. On those days, Jerome did what he did best: he kept talking. He said all the things he knew would piss off Harley the most, like calling him by his old name. He would make Harley snap and then Harley would retaliate exactly how he wanted.

Not today.

"Fuck, you're such a baby," Jerome grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'm bored with you playing daddy, I already know all your moves and we both know that you're just going to give me what I want anyways. You're a soft top, Sweetheart." He was smirking, proudly flaunting the power he usually had over Harley.

Today though, Jerome had pushed him too much. After all the shit he'd gone through with Jeremiah and Bruce, hearing Jerome call him Y/n had pushed him in a way that had sent him over the edge. And if he was being honest, he had his own frustrations. He wanted to run free as much as Jerome did and break things and scream as loudly as he wanted and sock his stupid brother in his face any time he dare even mention Jerome's name in Harley's presence. He was tired of behaving. He was tired of feeling like some toy. He was tired of being used. He was really, REALLY fucking tired of being ignored, too.

Harley's smile was dangerous. Jerome looked at him, unsure of what was going through the other boy's head. "You know, you have a little too much attitude for someone who's currently desperate for me to touch him. You want something from me? You need to learn some respect." Harley reached over, grabbing Jerome's wrist and forcing it toward the top of the bed. It happened so fast that only when Harley had used one cuff to get Jerome's right hand, and then had threaded the second cuff through the bars at the head of the bed, did Jerome react.

"HEY!"

At the outburst, Harley didn't hesitate to slap Jerome again. The redhead gasped, body shivering. He would absolutely never admit it, but this kind of aggression had always turned him on, when he was comfortable with the person. He'd wanted someone to be like this with him for ages, but not many people were willing to go far enough to please Jerome Valeska. By the way Harley was looking at him right now, this time might be different.

"I didn't give you permission to speak. Granted, I didn't tell you to shut up either so I'll be forgiving, but if you shout at me one more time you will regret it." He gripped Jerome's other wrist, cuffing that as well. Now Jerome's hands were over his head, trapped by the cuffs and the bar. "If you want to say something, I want you to address me first. I will allow you to continue then. Or I will not." Jerome hesitated, then nodded, intrigued by this side of Harley even he had not the pleasure of exploring before.

What came next surprised Jerome. Harley didn't take him right there, rough and hot. He didn't move slowly around and tease until Jerome wa a desperate mess of begs and whimpers. Harley didn't touch him at all. In fact, he moved off of the bed completely. He left the room even, returning a moment with a chair. Only then did he undo his own clothes, only lowering his pants enough to allow himself access his erection. He didn't even pull his pants off all the way! Jerome felt completely exposed, tied up and naked for viewing pleasure, when Harley was so far away and completely dressed.

To Jerome's intense frustration, Harley sat down on the chair and began stroking himself, eyes on Jerome. Harley's eyes were wide and lust blown, his tongue flicking out every once in a while to wet his lips. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted back just a little as a small moan came from him.

Jerome shifted. He was getting uncomfortable with how long he'd been hard without being touched, and watching Harley be like this was not helping. Jerome really liked to be involved in sexual acts. He had gotten rather pouty anytime Harley was caught masterbating, and there had been an unspoken rule that Harley didn't really restrain Jerome for stuff like this. If Harley wanted to be touched, Jerome would touch him. They both preferred it that way. This was ridiculous, and frankly rude. Jerome wasn't going to give Harley the upper hand. This was a low blow and he wasn't going to let Harley get away with it.

As Harley continued though, getting more into it and completely ignoring Jerome, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his mouth shut. Trying to play it off like he didn't care as much as he did, Jerome finally spoke up. It had seemed an eternity for him, but it had actually only been a few seconds and Harley had to swallow his smile to not give himself away. "Okay Harley, very funny. Let me touch you. I'm sorry I called you the other name. You know I can do this better than you can. Let me out." When Harley continued to ignore Jerome, the cuffed ginger raised his voice. "LET ME OUT!"

"Why?" Harley growled, eyes finally on Jerome again. "Because you told me to? Because you asked me to?" He stood, pulling his pants up again. "I'm not your little bitch Jerome, you're mine. You want to kill someone? Fine. You want to steal or break something? Fine! But you don't call me by that name. You don't mess with me, because I'm all you got. If you want me to leave, you ask like a big kid."

Jerome's lips twitched, slowly rising into a smile. "Are you actually mad at me?"

Harley grinned. "No, not really." They both cracked up, losing it for a few extended seconds. Then Harley cut off and Jerome faded into quiet, soft chuckles as Harley began to speak. "I respect you, J. My little joker." He moved towards the bed, caressing Jerome's cheek. The ginger leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. He fed off of the contact, as if it was a drug or he was starving and the gesture fed him. Harley smiled softly. "You gotta respect me too. You don't have to piss me off to get me to break you, joker. All you have to do is ask me nicely, like a good boy. Do all the bad things you want. But not to me."

A sigh escaped Jerome, and then he finally gave in. "If I behave will you let me out? I want you to touch me. Please."

That pleased Harley. "That's what I wanted to hear." He leaned back a little, eyes scanning Jerome's exposed body. "I will let you out. And then it's time to play for real." His eyes glinted with a darkness that made Jerome jerk in expectation. Needless to say, Harley didn't disappoint.

-

Story Tags: @wanna-plan-world-domination​

[wrenhyperfixates]

Sorry, I just needed a second to unload.

I haven’t liked the Loki show so far. I love Loki, and I love Tom, but it’s just not been something I’m enjoying. I guess I’m more interested in the Shakespearean tragic hero-thing they had going in the first two Thor movies than the tone they have in the show. Like, it’s just not something I’m into, and if it wasn’t Loki I probably wouldn’t be watching it at all. But I feel really, really awful saying that. I want to like it so badly. I was genuinely excited for the show, I really wanted to like it. And it sucks because every time I come on Tumblr, my dash is filled with people talking about how sick they are of people who don’t like the show and how they’re unfollowing everyone who posts something negative about it and how “I’d like to see them write a better show” and things of that sort and it just makes me feel horrible. These aren’t just random blogs, these are mutuals and people I consider friends. And I understand where they’re coming from, but it makes me feel like I’m a horrible person for not liking the show (even though I’m trying SO HARD to make myself like it- it’s not like I’m going in wanting to hate it. I want to see what everyone else is seeing and enjoy it with them). I realize this sounds really stupid, but it just feels like everyone’s telling me that they don’t want me here, to the point that I’ve been legitimately depressed the past two weeks. I haven’t been coming on tumblr much because of it and it’s been really, really lonely because this used to be where I’d go when real life got too difficult. But I don’t want to unfollow anyone— like I said, a lot of these people are my friends, and the whole reason I used to enjoy coming on to Tumblr in the first place (I’m actually crying over this right now holy shit I’m pathetic) It’s like the show was a test for true fans and I failed and now nobody wants me. I just feel really alone and I don’t know what to do.

Oh nonny, it’s not pathetic. You are allowed to feel how you feel!!!!!! *biggest hugs* Long, un-edited reply is under the cut

I agree, some people sound kind of harsh when talking about the opposing side and there’s a lot of negativity in the fandom right now. And neither side is right; I see plenty of people from both perspectives not willing to discuss. Sometimes a person picks up on one sentence from an analysis that’s worded in a way that makes them mad and they harp on that. Other times it’s because a review is entirely negative and entirely positive, and it can be hard when a side is making no concessions. In fact, part of a good persuasive writing piece is concessions.

I do think that’s the heart of the issue though: People who think way A feel that people who think way B are too agressive about it. Then that of course leads to bold statements like “I block anyone with a negative opinions because they’re rude” with the often implied “and they don’t agree with me.” And yes, sometimes it does create a bad experience, especially when someone won’t compromise at all. And yes, you’re allowed to block whoever you want. But no one should be bullying each other for having opinions!!!!

And nonny, you don’t have to like the show! Art speaks to everyone in different ways—and sometimes not at all!! Even if it’s a character or show you generally like, you don’t have to agree with everything that’s being done.

Perhaps, with your friends at least, you could ask for things to be tagged with “Loki series positivity” and then block that tag. I don’t see any reason why a friend wouldn’t do that for you. Perhaps it’d be beneficial to find some more like-minded blogs too to fill up your dash. Maybe you could even jump into analysis yourself. I do objective analysis with a positive spin on things that are up for interpretation, though I do still try to give credit to valid points of a negative argument. I see no reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to do the same. The whole point of a concession is to build your ethos and make your audience more open to what you have to say. Like I said, I think a lot of the issue is how hard both sides attack an issue.

Now while you are under no obligation to like the show, I thought perhaps some of these things could help you find more enjoyment or hope in it? If that wouldn’t make you feel better, feel free to skip.

The show isn’t over yet!! They may do something you really like!

Loki’s hair looks really soft!!

New fanfiction will be produced!

This is a different Loki, affected by different things. You don’t have to love him in the same way!! Or at all. But if you want to like him, maybe find some traits that you like and focus on those—you can have a different relationship with this Loki.

No one can take your Loki from you!!! He’ll always be in your heart.

I don’t think I have much else to offer, other than this blog as a safe space. I’m totally open to discussion and differing opinions! The world is boring if we all agree all the time.

And come on guys, it’s fiction. We all vibed with different opinions and headcanons before, so why stop now? I know it sucks when someone makes you feel attacked, but try not to make another person feel attacked in turn. And don’t make anyone scared to speak their mind; that’s not really fair. Bottom line? It’s fiction; stop making each other see bad for their thoughts on it.

[justasparkwritings]

Butter: A Collaborative Fantasy

A collaborative fantasy... please feel free to add to your master lists, to reblog and leave comments, to tag other writers. If more people write chunks, I will update this as the MAIN Butter & Unsalted collaborative filthy fantasy. 

IF I MISSED YOUR POST - TAG ME PLS

Additions to the story are getting lost in the other likes/reblogs (who ever thought I’d say that?), so PLEASE tag me! If you add on to the story - try and do it on the original post! 

Banner - me

OG prompt: Okay who is writing the fic Butter and it’s sequel, Unsalted?

@xjoonchildx​

what was her name again? margeríne?

sounded french. hoseok couldn’t exactly recall. all he could think about was her golden glow, the way she glistened. how smooth and creamy and delicious she looked in the candlelight.

just one look and hoseok knew —

he was toast.

@hauntedlilies​

Nothing could compare to. her -  not even Olivia, with her dark eyes. and long lashes fluttering so prettily against her cheeks when he took her extra virginity. 

He knew she deserved better, not a man functioning. like an. emotionally detached, well-oiled machine, but as he got lost in her heat all he could think of was how badly he wished he was churning someone else. 

Her. 

The image of skimming her sweet cream played like a feedback loop inside his head and when he spilled himself all over the woman underneath him, it was someone else’s name that slipped past his lips. 

As Olivia peppered a row of kisses along his jaw he buried his face in her hair, ears burning and the mess between their bodies a sticky reminder of his shame. Even after all this time, he knew no one could ever butter his croissant like Margeríne. 

@hesperantha​

Her memory was as sweetly-salted as the tears that ran down his fresh-baked cheeks

—the way she had rendered at his touch, creamy and moist, oleascent, at least 80% fat.

He bid his farewells to Olivia, the taste of their lovemaking already rancid on his tongue. Without a second glance he slid out the door and melted into the night.

@jinpanman​

It is fate when he sees Margeríne next on a Friday morning at Cat’s Tall Milk Café. Olivia is all but forgotten as Margeríne strides up to serve him with his plate, hot and ready.

The morning light that filters through the windows envelopes her in the softest glow and he once again wonders if her skin is as supple as it looks. Hoseok watches, hypnotized with the way sweat rolls down her forehead and drips onto his toasted bread, painting it in splatters of milky white and golden yellow.

Oh, how he would much rather her cream be drippin’ elsewhere— He takes in a sharp inhale and wills away the dirty thoughts. All in due time…

Boldly, he takes her hand before she can leave. “Please, let me take you out to the pastures this weekend!” It is to his great delight that she accepts.

Later that evening, a freshly waxed and glistening Margeríne tosses in bed and recounts her meeting with the most dashing man. She can’t wait to see if Hoseok will be The One who can whip her hard enough to make her cream.

THE STORY DIVERGED IT WAS MY FAULT

@justasparkwritings​

Seokjin stared at her, perplexed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Hoseok answered, cheeks burned from the summer heat.

“I just can’t believe she’s not butter,” Seokjin stared mystified at the spot she seemed to have melted from.

@ladyartemesia​

“I know... She looks just like her doesn’t she?”

“Yes, but it’s been centuries... The odds of her reappearing are spread so thin—”

“You saw the same thing I did. I don’t care what she’s calling herself this time around.”

“Well,” Seokjin drawled, a clever smirk drifting across his lips, “there’s only one way to find out isn’t there.”

Hoseok knew what was coming next, but the words still sent a sizzling shock of sensations down his spine.

“You’ll have to taste her.”

The younger man shook his head wryly.

“And how exactly do you propose I do that?”

Seokjin leaned back against the bar, letting his smirk deepen into shameless grin.

“I can tell you right now it’s going to take a lot of bread.”

@taegularities​

"Are you serious? I can't just walk over and butter her up. What if I scare her?" Hoseok hissed as the older man rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner.

"Look, either you take your chances or crumble for another century without her. We both know what that did to you."

Hoseok knew Seokjin was right. He'd waited for far too long to let this opportunity pass — but how would he control his churning stomach when he approached his girl, suppress the urge to call her by her old nickname Buttercup? As he'd always used to.

"Go and tell her you loaf her, Hoseok."

The man in question turned around, eyebrows furrowing as he asked, "What did you say?"

Seokjin sighed. "You love her. Tell her."

@hobipaint​

"Love her? Straight away? Won't that be a bit too.. greasy?" Hoseok asked.

"There's nothing like too much grease, Hoseok. We literally saved the burnt bread in the morning by over greasing it. Go ahead."

Hoseok sighed. His friend was about as useful as a butter knife in spreading cold butter.

"Look, unless you jam your way into her life, she's going to see you as this unnecessary, ignorant hole in the bread she's baking."

"That's why we use butter, right? clog up the hole-y bread and relish the creamy goodness surrounding the hard centre?"

Focus, Hoseok, focus.

"Yeah, but there's a very small margarine of error you can loose your Buttercup by. Unless you go overboard, you'll slip all over and make a mess. Butter her up, figuratively and literally."

@joheunsaram​

Before Hoseok could gather his nerves to make his way over, he and Seokjin were joined by Jimin, their golden haired friend sauntering over excitedly.

“Did you guys see her?” He asked in a theatrical whisper, groaning with his hands on his chest. “She’s absolutely divine, can’t wait to melt her on my tongue!”

Seokjin grimaced at his choice of words, opting to flick him not so gently on the forehead as he scowled. Hoseok, however, was still processing his friend’s comment.

“You like her?” He asked, incredulous, suddenly worried about competition.

Jimin smirked, an eyebrow raised, before chuckling. “Don’t spread this around, but me and her? Let’s just say we’ve been enjoying each other since the time I lost my jams.”

Hoseok could not help the way his heart jolted with envy.

(unsure which came first, @joheunsaram​ or @hobipaint​) 

TO BE CONTINUED

[drummergirl231-2]

I don’t even know what to title this.

I’ve been trying to come up with a title for I don’t know how long and now I’m legit crying because I can’t even figure out how to start this post... so this will have to do.

I’m not okay. I can’t keep up with all this and everything going on in my life. I feel like I’m strapped into a car on a collision course for a brick wall and I’m just frozen in fear anticipating the impact. 

Everything has kind of been spiraling out of control in my personal life (if you want you can skip to the bolded headings for what’s relevant to this blog).

My parents - whom a lot of you know about from my GoFundMe - are moving from California to Tennessee. I can’t afford to stay in California so I have to go with them (though they insist my going with them is my choice and that I totally have other options... but whatever. At least I’ll be out of California). 

If my job can’t transfer me, I’ll lose it just when I was going to get the most hours (and therefore money) of the year, but my parents refuse to wait until after Christmas to sell.

My grandma recently died and even though my grandpa (step-grandfather) invited us up to the house at one point, his horrible son met us on the porch and rudely refused to let us in, telling us his father wasn’t seeing anyone. Now that his horrible son has left, grandpa invited my uncle and aunt up, but not my parents or me, and my uncle said he’s going to do what he can to bring us what we want of grandma’s. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandma because her death was sudden, and now I’m scared I won’t get to say goodbye to the only grandpa I’ve ever known, either, because I’m moving to Tennessee and he’s 89 and has heart problems and I’m scared he’ll die of a broken heart in every sense. I’d have liked to say goodbye to the house, too. My grandma didn’t want a funeral. She was one of those “Don’t fuss over me,” types who fussed over all of us. I have zero closure in this situation.

I have to get ready to move but have no idea how/when/where to start. I’m terrified of the 4 day journey to Tennessee, trapped in an SUV with my parents and five animals, including my poor elderly cat, Kira, whose anxiety makes mine look mild. I have Misophonia and so many food allergies I can’t eat out so I don’t know how I’ll do food for four days. My parents say they won’t bring the camping stove for me to warm up my lunches. It’s like they never raised an autistic child.

Things have been crazy for “Kristen,” me, but losing my grandparents, my home, possibly my job, and moving far from any family or friends I trust aside... things haven’t been easy for “DG,” me, either. 

As badly as I want to start a youtube channel about Autism, Misophonia, food allergies, gut health, emotional abuse, etc., I cannot find the answers no matter how much I google when it comes to the tech problems I’ve faced. And I’m not even sure when I’d be able to record these videos because my parents are almost never gone. And when they are it’s not for long, and I just want to relax, and breathe, and be in the living room, and talk and sing out loud, and do all the things I don’t get to do when they’re here for just a little bit. I stay in my room so much I feel like I’m a diver holding my breath and as soon as they leave I can surface and gasp for air. 

Also, I’m getting more and more self-conscious about my acne and this one tooth I have that’s crooked because my mom has enjoyed commenting on them lately and it makes me kind of scared to share my face with the internet and last night I legit had a dream about trying to get these things fixed with more braces and foundation. Like what even I literally don’t care about this stuff when people don’t comment on it. Why do I have to be so sensitive?

Problem is, I am figuring out why. I’ve been doing so much research on Narcissistic Personality Disorder and narcissistic abuse to try to understand my parents and childhood and young adult years, that not only have I been able to identify it in my abusers, but I’ve found some traits in myself. And I’ve searched and studied and tried to see if I have it and after this inward witch hunt I have to conclude I don’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but I have a few signs of vulnerable narcissism. Even if they’re not enough for a label, they’re definitely things I need to work on (things like hypersensitivity, victim mentality, sulking and shut down, self-sabotage, things like that... and now apparently vanity, but only when people frequently give me flack about my face). Trouble is I don’t know how to work on these because I have no mentor, no counselor/therapist, no pastor, nothin’. And most of the videos about Narcissism are about identifying it or surviving it as the victim, not growing past the traits, because full-blown narcissists generally don’t acknowledge their flaws and try to fix them. So I’m at this annoying and fruitless phase of “self-improvement” where I just frequently scold myself for my thoughts.

YouTube ambitions and flaws aside, I have people waiting for the next chapter of my fanfic, and no one’s been pushy or anything, but there’s this huge weight on me to write, write, write, but with everything else going on in my life I just feel stuck. Like my brain is just “NERP.” And I feel guilty, like I’m the biggest disappointment to people.

And then there’s this blog itself. 

It’s begun to feel more like an obligation for me rather than recreation. Every week I dread the time after a new episode airs. I want to make posts at my pace, about what I want to talk about, like what I used to do. 

But sometimes the link I get has a weird video player window that I can’t make the right size to make decent gifs, and sometimes I can’t even take screenshots because when I pause it it’ll have the play triangle in the middle of the screen and the bottom of the screen will get dark, or sometimes the link just stops working. So I wait for the episode to go up on watchcartoononline because that’s where it works best for me but in the meantime I’m missing out on the fandom being online and by the time the episode goes up I’m just like, “What if the post I make of this moment gets like zero notes because it’s already been giffed and talked about a million times and I’m late to the party? What if I’m disappointing everyone?”

I try to not post anything until I can post about the episode properly, and I’ve asked people not to send me asks or messages with episode spoilers until they’ve seen proof on my blog that I’ve seen the episode, but that hasn’t stopped them. I get spoilery asks anyway.

I get a link relatively quickly but mainly I ask for people to wait for proof I’ve seen the episode because I want a chance to get my own thoughts on the episode out first before people ask me about specific things or straight up demand I talk about what they want me to talk about on my blog. 

For a couple weeks I even made all my posts and saved them as drafts first so real quick I could just post ‘em all in a row and get ‘em out, because I know the second I post one thing I’ll have everyone going “OMIGOSH SHE’S ONLINE,” and trying to send me asks and messages and I’ll be trying to juggle them all while trying to make more posts about what I want to talk about. I feel like I have to reply to those messages because if I don’t I’m scared they’ll see me make another post after they’ve sent their message and be like, “What the heck she’s online why won’t she reply to me?” So sometimes I’ll just stop posting and hope and pray they think they just missed me or something, which isn’t fair to them.

But then I’ll see something new on my dash - art from khionyohann, new screencaps for the upcoming episode that DuckTalks shared - and I’ll want to reblog it, but then I’ll think: “I can’t reblog anything... people will know I’m online then. And I still haven’t posted about the episode. I can’t do things out of order. They’ll think, ‘Why isn’t she talking about the new episode? Why isn’t she answering my asks? Why isn’t she replying to me?”

And by the time the episode gets posted on watchcartoononline (and as long as I don’t have a migraine and I’m not paralyzed with fear), I make my posts, but by then I feel like I’m super late and I don’t even know what the point is of me reblogging things anymore, if I even remember there were things I wanted to reblog.

My time here has become nothing but me trying to please people while simultaneously trying to hide from them.

So... blarg. All that to say, I’m closing my ask box for a while. And I’m sorry to disappoint people. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. Extroverted thinking isn’t even a cognitive function that comes naturally to an INFJ! It’s utterly exhausting. 

And while I do still want to do more posts about the latest episode, I hope you’ll understand that things are just crazy for me right now and I’m not in a good place. I’m trying to be okay and I’m trying to be so excited about an episode that I get motivated enough find ways to blog about it no matter what but I don’t have the energy. I want to reblog stuff, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to interact. 

And for the few I consider true friends on here, please know I’m not asking you to leave me alone or anything. Just know I might not respond as soon as you message me... which, honestly, you’re probably all used to by now, but I still feel super guilty about it.

I just need to simplify my time on here a little bit because I’m not okay.