#time to fix the next thing or time to figure out something more permanent

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

the thing is. it's really not much of a fixit!

[authormars]

Headcanon dumb bc why not?

We'll do one per character since I don't do that very often

Lucifer showers in the morning and night every day and, if he can, will brush his teeth three times a day (once in the morning, once after lunch, once at night)

Mammon sleeps in nothing normally, but if MC asks him to be in their room, is sleeping in his room, or he's sleeping over at someone's house, he has the decency to put sweatpants on (unless MC doesn't want him to 👀)

Levi is amazing at art and regularly does commissions for people. In Satan's room, above all the shelves, he has posters made by Levi for his favorite shows and books.

Satan goes to varsity Fangol practice, not because he's on the team, but because he likes watching the cheerleaders practice (and he has a crush or has had a crush on half of them)

Asmo regularly takes selfcare days, which almost always include shopping and treating himself in the morning at various stores and spending the afternoon (and sometimes night) at Purgatory Hall with Solomon.

Beel will often take food from anyone, but if he notices a particular person giving him their food a lot of the time (looking at you Asmo, Luci, and MCs with an ED) he will stop accepting it to make sure they're eating.

Belphie almost never sleeps in his own bed. Beel's is warmer, much more comfortable, and it has something to cuddle that occasionally bites his shoulder as he sleeps.

Diavolo has a shower that's enchanted by Barbatos to always spit out healing water, which is part of the reason bruises never last long (the other reason is that Diavolo has a crazy good immune system and it's hard to bruise him anyways.

Barbatos fell in love with Diavolo's mother and father and they were together until Diavolo's mother died. After that, since Diavolo's father was broken-hearted, Barbatos swore off love

Mephisto has a cane because of an accident when he was younger. He rode horses for sport and during one of the races (that little Diavolo was allowed to go to, I might add) another jockey purposely knocked him off his horse, leading to a permanent injury in his leg so he limps all the time and it causes lots of pain

Solomon has lived through three different earths. The first earth, where he was a peasant. This earth was wiped out because the ecosystem was falling apart (not the human's fault, for once) but the humans were allowed to go to the next earth as the first humans. The second earth was wiped out while he was in Devildom, so he wasn't wiped out with it. The second earth was wiped out due to Lilith and Belphie. The third earth is what we know today.

Simeon can actually use his phone a lot better than he lets on. He just absolutely adores the look on Luke's face when he helps him fix something.

Luke cannot seem to get any Devildom pastry right. It's always slightly off. He knows this because Barbatos always smiles sadly at him when they do their taste tests. For the life of him, he cannot figure out what it is

Thirteen was once a human who lived in the first earth with Solomon (she hated him there too) When she died, her sins and virtues were exactly equal, so the father and mother (God and Devil herself) decided to make her a reaper, a being to watch over the newly created life candles that hindered a being's lifespan.

Raphael isn't actually indifferent to most things. As an angel, he was taught not to show his emotions and be a perfect guard for Michael (pretty sure thats what he is) so he never learned how to properly express emotions (and he's a lil autistic)

I struggled with some of these, sorry if they're bad or inaccurate. I haven't met Mephi, Thirteen, or Raphael yet

[misteria247]

Concept randomness because this is my blog I can be insane if I want too-

So there's plenty of fics about Timmy losing his memory due to turning 18 and forgetting about Danny, SpongeBob and Jimmy. But like what if he lost his memory due to a magical accident.

Like Timmy is the magic user of their group. The muscle of their team and the heart of his and Jimmy's relationship. He's one of the things helping keep their strange little family together and he doesn't even realize it. And because he's got such a big heart and he's glued to the other three so closely, it wouldn't even be out of character if Timmy perhaps.....took a hit for a team mate.

Like picture it.

It's in the middle of a fight, there's chaos everywhere. Everyone's on their last legs, desperately trying to get away so they can regroup to figure out a new plan to stop the bad guys. Jimmy's shouting instructions, trying to herd SpongeBob, Danny and Timmy to safety. Not really paying attention to his own surroundings, instead deeming his friends more important. It's because of this that he doesn't see the magical threat coming up on him. But guess who's always looking out for the teen genius at all times? Especially in moments like these?

None other than Timmy fucking Turner.

And Timmy being Timmy sees the threat, and sees the stolen wand being raised up to shoot magic at Jimmy's back. It's not even a moment's hesitation before Timmy's rushing towards him, knowing damn well that he's powerless due to Cosmo and Wanda being drained from fighting. But he doesn't care. All he cares about is protecting Jimmy Neutron, the boy genius. His best friend in the whole world.

The boy who he loves.

It's this very thing that makes Timmy take the hit, letting out a breathless gasp of pain. It's that noise that makes Jimmy head snap around only to see Timmy go down, the magic having caused actual injuries to the pink coded boy. And Jimmy just sees red. It's after taking down the threat and grabbing Timmy that the group finally retreat. And it's back at base when Timmy's all bandaged up and the others are taken care of that he wakes up and Jimmy, Danny, SpongeBob and his parents are so relieved to see him awake and Jimmy's about to tear him a new one just as Danny's gearing up to do the same. That Timmy just shatters their relief with two questions.

"Who are you...? Where am I?"

Everything's a blur afterwards. SpongeBob's a mess and Danny's mentally preparing to tear apart their enemies the next time he sees them. Jimmy's just.....shut down. He can't process it. The way Timmy looks at them with unease and nervousness. The way Timmy looks at him as if Jimmy would hurt him. And Timmy's parents they're a mess. Cosmo and Wanda they're trying to remain strong as to not scare their son anymore than he already is, but it's so hard when Timmy looks at them with suspicion and distrust. When he flinches a bit from them when they slowly pull out their wands to do a check up on him.

They reveal that the magical blast had completely erased Timmy's memories of not just magic but of them as well. And due to how powerful the magic was and the intent behind it, it's not an easy fix. It's something that'll take time to try and make it better. If it's not too strong that it could damage Timmy's mind permanently.

Que a long journey of the group and Timmy having to get to know one another again. It's agonizing because it's like he's there but he's not. So jokes and other things that Timmy shared with them goes over his head or earns a confused head tilt or an uncomfortable laugh. And Jimmy, the guilt eats at him because if he had just been more vigilant, had paid more attention Timmy wouldn't be in the current situation he's in. And it's during a late night in his lab, as he's slaving away at trying to figure out how to fix it that he sees the picture of him and Timmy on his desk and he sees Timmy's buck tooth smile and his mischievous shining eyes that Jimmy realizes that he misses Timmy Turner dearly and then he figures it out.

He figures out that he's in love with his best friend.

It's a literal you don't realize what you have till it's gone kinda thing.

Just-

You get what I'm throwing down fam?? Do you see my insane vision???

[mychemicalrachel]

Full disclosure, I have not seen the Teen Wolf movie and no I do not plan on it. I have caught a few things through the magic of tumblr and I had some thoughts. So if everything I saw is accurate; Derek has a kid Eli (basically a Stiles replacement since Dylan wasn’t in the movie. Also, nobody knows who his mother is?) and Derek dies, and he leaves his kid to Scott and Allison. Am I right so far? I’ve seen a few posts entertaining the idea of Stiles being Eli’s other dad, fix-its that have him resurrecting/saving Derek in some capacity. And so it got me thinking of my own version of how I would fix this dumpster fire and like,

What if Stiles was not Eli’s dad?

No no no, hear me out, okay?

Derek had Eli with some one night stand or whatever, it’s not important. She’s not in the picture but neither is Stiles. Stiles is just the one that got away, he’s the guy Derek has been pining over for the past fifteen years, and nothing more. Stiles finally got away from the supernatural shitshow and Derek is not going to be the one to drag him back into it just because he has feelings for him.

But Stiles is still the closest thing Derek has ever had to family and it makes sense for Derek to entrust his family with Stiles’ family. So what if he left Eli in the care of John? (hIS NAME IS JOHN, FIGHT ME ON THIS.) And John, he kind of adores the kid, right? Of course when Derek dies (because he does) John takes Eli in just as he promised he would.

But John is getting older. Eli is a handful because he is just like Stiles. John has to tell Stiles eventually what happened and he really could use some help trying to wrangle a grieving teenager, so he calls Stiles.

Stiles is FURIOUS when he finds out what happened. He hasn’t been in contact with Scott for years because he realized what a piece of shit Scott was, but the fact that Scott didn’t even call when everything was happening makes him angry. The fact that they let Derek die?? More than angry. Angry enough to kill somebody. But when he meets Eli, all that anger disappears. Eli, who is this weird mix of Derek and Stiles, who is mourning the loss of his only parent, his only family. He knows what it’s like to lose a parent, but even after his mom died, he always had his dad. Eli doesn’t have that so Stiles makes it his responsibility to become that figure for him. Not his dad because nobody could replace Derek, but a guardian.

He moves back to town, he bonds with Eli, and in his spare time he maybe starts to explore the possibilities of necromancy. Death in a place like Beacon Hills has never been permanent– Peter and now Allison are proof of that. He doesn’t tell anybody because he doesn’t actually plan on bringing Derek back, it’s just a thought that keeps him from falling apart entirely. During this time, he realizes not only his feelings for Derek, but Derek’s feelings for him. He wishes he could have just a few minutes with Derek, wishes he could go back in time and redo everything. Maybe he would have stayed in Beacon Hills, or he would have asked Derek to leave with him. And time travel, yeah that’s a possibility, too, but time is a fickle bitch and Stiles isn’t willing to gamble with it. What if he messes something up and erases Eli from existence?

In the end, bringing Derek back is kind of an accident.

Years have passed and Eli is healing, Stiles is healing– they even manage to fix the jeep together because symbolism. Stiles is going through some old journals or something of Deaton’s and he finds something that looks kind of promising (something about true love being the one thing more powerful than death or something equally as cheesy) and he’s reading it out loud and it just happens. No fanfare, no sparks, almost like it’s not magic at all. One second, Stiles is alone, and the next, Derek is there– older than the last time Stiles saw him, just as beautiful. There’s some panic because what the fuck, the last thing Derek remembers is the fire and being so sure he was going to die and thinking if only I could see Stiles one more time and now he’s here, standing in front of Stiles– also older than the last time Derek saw him, and just as beautiful. But after the panic, there’s some kissing and some crying and some long awaited love confessions, and by the time they go home, Stiles still isn’t sure exactly what happened, what he did, what the consequences might be, but he’s got his arm around Derek’s waist and the burn of Derek’s stubble on his lips and Derek is alive so nothing else fucking matters.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

hello! sorry to bother you but i am currently working on character designs for my next d&d campaign. i am creating a winged elf inspired by avariels, and he will have some form of physical disability which causes them to be unable to fly. however, i am not very educated about physical disabilities, so do you know any which might affect limbs such as wings and any ways i could portray life with them and accommodations for them in a respectful way? any tips are appreciated. thank you :)))

Wing disabilities are a bit harder to research than regular human limb disabilities, but you might be amused to learn that the very first thing i found upon a quick search for bird wing deformities was something called "angel wing", found in many different bird species. I've linked the article I found. It develops over time and can be corrected, but obviously when it happens in wild birds they have no means to fix it on their own and it becomes permanent.

Angel wing is a deformation of the wrist area, making it droop and then turn outwards. Once it's permanent, the crooked shape of the wing makes flight impossible. If a winged humanoid had this problem, they would need to worry about things like how far the crooked wing sticks out, maybe bracing it to alleviate chronic pain. I'm sure something like that would cause pain, even if it wasn't mentioned in the article. It may be helpful to clip the feathers on that part of the wing, so they're not in the way. Finding a comfortable sleep position may also be a bit tricky.

Other possible wing disabilities which I have not researched at all but sound like plausible congenital issues for people with wings:

- underdeveloped wings. They never get big enough for flight, maybe the feathers never grow in properly, possibly they're also shaped wrong for flight. Could come with chronic pain, weak muscles/atrophy, etc.

- missing wing. Somehow just didn't develop a wing, or developed a nub where the wing should be. Could also be missing just the "hand" part of the wing.

- general feather growth problems. Weak feathers, feathers that come in short, chronic molting that causes a lot of unhelpful bald patches, etc.

- chronic joint pain. Wings appear to be normal, but the joints hurt a lot and movement is difficult.

You can also go the route of disability by injury, having a wing broken or amputated or otherwise harmed in a way that is difficult or impossible to recover from.

Overall, the accommodations needed could include pain relief, a brace to keep the wing in a comfortable folded position, feather clipping, massages, etc. Mobitiy aids to let this character fly without the use of their wings is easy to handle in fantasy because you could give him an enchanted flying device of some sort. Magical prosthetic wing might work, but that depends on the disability you're working with and also wing prosthetics are pretty tricky. It would not be as functional as a real wing. If the wings are fully grown and intact, but the problem is something like joint pain, then a flight brace to steady the wings could be useful. They'd only be able to fly for short bursts though, probably. But it would be akin to giving someone leg braces so they can walk, while also having access to crutches or a wheelchair. You can work with your dm on figuring out what's allowed in the campaign setting.

As for being respectful in how you portray the character, I think the most important thing is to let them be a full person. The disability is obviously a major part of their life, but they ought to have more personality than that. Hobbies, interests, attitude.

They're also allowed to be sad about the disability, but this should not be their main defining trait. I think it is pretty normal to be sad that you have a physical difference preventing you from doing something other people can easily do. The problem in fictional characters who are sad about their disabilities is that it often becomes Their Entire Thing and then the character arc is either "so I became evil about it" or "and then they died" or "but there was a magical perfect fix!" all of which obviously don't respect the reality of being disabled. But making them totally happy go lucky about it also doesn't work. So you just need the middle area there, as that's the most realistic one. How does it feel to have a permanent disability? Well, it ends up feeling pretty normal when you're used to it. Sometimes it sucks a lot. Sometimes you hardly pay attention to it. Focus on making your character emotionally varied and give them an interesting personality that makes their interactions with other characters more fun.

Roleplay games are great for that, because you'll have to mesh with the group and really flesh out your character relationships as you go.

Anyway I hope that was all helpful! No illustrations to show, because I'm sleepy today. But good luck with your character! And maybe go check out @cripplecharacters for extra advice on generalized disability rep if you haven't already!

[goblinontour]

We Were Young, Darlin’

we don’t have no control, we're out of control

warnings: fetus!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (piv), it’s cute

word count: 10k

“It’s him!” you screamed to your friend, your voice rising above the roaring music that vibrated through the floor and rattled your chest. The band had just come on stage, the room exploding with sound as the first chords rang out.

“What?!” she yelled back, leaning in closer, her brow furrowed as she tried to make out what you were saying. The noise in the room made everything feel chaotic, but the only thing you could focus on was the figure now adjusting a guitar at the center of the stage.

“It’s Alex! It’s him!” You gripped her arm tighter, your heart hammering against your ribs as you repeated yourself, this time louder. Your words tumbled out in an excited rush, almost slurring together from the drinks you’d downed earlier. The alcohol had made you bold, clumsy, and a little too emotional. You felt your knees wobble beneath you, and your friend caught your arm just before you could stumble into someone.

“Who’s Alex?” she asked, pulling you back upright, her eyes nervously darting to the huge brooding guy beside you whose scowl seemed permanently fixed. He looked like he’d kill someone if you spilled your drink on his shoes. But you barely noticed, too busy staring at the stage.

“Never mind! It doesn’t matter!” you waved her off, shaking your head. Explaining who Alex Turner was right now wasn’t important. There was no time to explain, not when you could see him right there. Your Alex, or at least the boy you used to know, standing there, adjusting the strap of his guitar with a nervous sort of fidget. 

There he was.

He looked a little older, sure, but not so different. His hair was still dark and slightly unkempt, curling at the ends in that familiar way. His frame had filled out a bit Lean, not lanky. And there was still something unmistakably awkward about the way he stood. You could see it in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the strap of his guitar like he wasn’t quite sure where to place his hands. You could see the nerves in him, just like you did when you were younger. 

The spotlight hit him just as he leaned into the mic, his face momentarily illuminated in the haze of the stage lights and the cigarette smoke lingering in the venue. His eyes scanned the crowd for a second, squinting through the blinding lights. The room was packed, bodies pressing together, and yet, standing there, Alex seemed smaller, like he wasn’t quite used to the attention. 

He strummed a few tentative chords before leaning into the mic, his voice barely audible over the buzzing feedback. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out a little shaky, a little unsure. “Uh...thanks for coming out.” he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at his bandmates as if looking for reassurance. They were already settling into position, ready to tear into their next song, but Alex paused, turning back to the crowd. “We’ve got a few more for you.” he added awkwardly, brushing his hand through his hair before gripping the mic stand, almost as though he needed something to hold onto.

It wasn’t the most confident stage presence, not the kind of charisma you’d expect from someone about to command a room. But it was him, every hesitant, awkward bit of him. That boy, the one who mumbled through his sentences and avoided eye contact when he was nervous. It was the same Alex you’d spent countless afternoons with, hanging out in your parents’ basements, talking about dreams that seemed so far off at the time.

A burst of emotion surged through you, and before you could stop yourself, you cheered. Louder than anyone around you. You felt your voice crack with excitement, probably too enthusiastic for his shy attempt at banter, but you didn’t care. Your heart swelled with a mix of nostalgia and pride. Seeing him up there, doing what you always knew he’d be good at, was surreal.

Alex shifted again, clearly startled by the noise. He looked up, eyes sweeping across the audience, searching for the source of the sound. And then, for just a second, his gaze landed on you.

Your breath hitched as his eyes locked with yours. Time seemed to stop, the music around you fading into a dull hum. Alex squinted, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched into the faintest smile.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but you saw it. You weren’t sure if he recognized you, if that smile was meant for you or just a reflex in response to the crowd’s energy, but you held onto it like it was the most important thing in the world. For a moment, the years that had passed between you didn’t matter. 

Was it really for you? You didn’t know, but you let yourself believe it was.

He turned away, refocusing on his guitar as the band launched into their next song. The room vibrated with the rumble of bass and drums, but you barely registered the music. All you could think about was that split second, that smile, and what it might mean. 

Your friend nudged you, noticing the sudden shift in your expression. “Are you okay?” she asked, raising her voice over the music, her concern evident.

“Yeah.” you murmured, still staring at the stage, your mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. “I’m good.” You didn’t elaborate. How could you? How could you explain that the boy who used to be your best friend, the one you hadn’t spoken to in years, had just smiled at you from the stage like no time had passed at all?

As the song continued, your eyes stayed glued to Alex. Every now and then, he’d glance up from his guitar, scanning the crowd with that same nervous energy. You wondered if he’d look your way again.

You lost yourself in the music, every beat, every chord resonating through your bones, carrying you somewhere far from where you stood. The crowd surged and swayed around you, but your focus stayed locked on the stage, on him. Watching him there brought back so many memories, ones you didn’t even realise you still carried. The songs blended into each other, one after another, and it felt like no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, the set was over. The last notes of their final song hung in the air for a moment, lingering like a ghost, and you blinked, almost confused by how quickly it had ended. The house lights came up, harsh and bright, pulling you back into reality. You weren’t even close to being done with it, but the show was over. 

Your friend had disappeared sometime during the last song, but you didn’t notice until you spotted her across the room. She was tucked into a corner with some good-enough-looking guy, his arm already around her waist as they laughed together. She shot you a quick thumbs up when she saw you looking, mouthing something you couldn’t make out before turning her attention back to him. It didn’t matter anyway. You could tell she’d found her own fun for the night.

You glanced back at the stage, your eyes scanning the space where Alex had stood just moments ago, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him. But he was gone. The whole band was gone, really, but your eyes weren’t searching for anyone else. A weird sort of emptiness tugged at your chest, a longing that felt so familiar it almost hurt. You’d lost him once, and now, after only just finding him again, he was gone before you even had a chance to say anything. 

The crowd started to thin, people streaming toward the exits, and the once-hot, sweaty venue suddenly felt too empty. You made your way toward the door, digging into your pocket for your pack of cigarettes. The air outside hit you like a slap, cold and biting, the late-night chill burning against your skin. You shivered, realising too late you should have brought a jacket, but inside had been too warm, and all the jumping around left you flushed and breathless. 

With a cigarette between your lips, you cupped your hands around the flame of your lighter, taking in a deep drag, hoping the smoke might do something to warm you from the inside out. It didn’t, but it gave you something to focus on. The night had that strange kind of stillness to it, the city lights blurred by the cold mist in the air.

“Hey.” a voice called from your left, low and familiar.

You froze for a moment, the cigarette dangling from your fingers as you turned toward the sound. There, just outside the door, leaning against the wall in the shadow of the venue’s awning, was Alex. It was him. You were sure of it now, more sure than you’d been earlier when you thought you saw that fleeting smile from the stage. 

He was still sweaty from the show, his hair all messy and sticking up in odd directions. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he seemed even smaller now, the stage presence stripped away, leaving behind just him.

You smiled, a slow, soft grin spreading across your face, and he took a step closer, squinting at you in the dim light. “Am I seeing things right?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t quite ready to believe it was you.

“What do you mean?” you teased, taking another drag and tilting your head, playing with him just a little, the way you used to.

“Oh, sorry, I thought I-” He paused, his words stumbling over each other. “I thought you were…I mean, you looked like…”

“I am, you coconut head.” you laughed, shaking your head at him. Without thinking, you reached up with your free hand and ruffled his already chaotic hair, feeling the dampness of it from sweat and stage lights. “Come here.”

For a second, he just stood there, blinking in surprise before his face broke into a sheepish grin, one you remembered all too well. He leaned in, closing the space between you, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in like he’d done a hundred times before, back when you were kids and everything was simple. His body was warm against yours, and despite the chill in the air, the closeness of him, this version of Alex that was still somehow the same one you once knew, made the cold fade into the background.

You let yourself lean into him, his arm anchoring you, grounding you in a moment that felt strangely like coming home. You could feel the slight shake in his hands, the nervous energy that never quite left him, even now. It made you smile. Some things didn’t change.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft, like he wasn’t sure if saying it too loudly might break the spell. 

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed at all. The years of distance, of going to different schools, of losing touch, it all felt like it melted away. Here he was, standing with you in the cold, like you’d never left each other’s side.

“Well, believe it, Turner.” you said, smirking. “I’m real, and I’m freezing, so you’d better keep me warm.” 

He chuckled, pulling you in tighter, the both of you laughing into the quiet night, the city sounds muted in the distance. And just like that, it was as if you’d never been apart at all.

Alex pulled back reluctantly, his arm slipping from your shoulders like he wasn’t quite ready to let go, but knew he had to. He looked at you for a moment, his big eyes searching your face as if trying to memorise every detail, and then he smiled, soft, warm, and familiar, before diving back in for one last hug. This time, it was tighter, just a few more seconds, like he was trying to savour the moment before the real world crept back in. You could feel the faint tremble in his hands, the nervous energy still coursing through him from the show.

When he finally pulled back again, it was with a quiet sigh, like he wished he didn’t have to. He stood there, crossing his arms over his chest as the cold air bit at his skin even through his jacket, his shoulders hunching up a little against the chill. He shivered, his breath visible in the freezing air, and you couldn’t help but smile at how much he was still the same. 

“What are you doing ‘ere?” he asked, his voice gentle as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really standing in front of him. His eyes flicked back to the door for a second, maybe checking if anyone was watching, before they returned to you, full of curiosity.

“I came to see the show.” you replied, wrapping your arms around yourself in a weak attempt to keep warm. The cold seemed to seep into your bones now, and you stamped your feet a little, trying to shake it off. Alex noticed, shuffling a little closer to you as though he could somehow help block the wind.

“You came to see my band?” He tilted his head, his voice laced with playful disbelief. His lips pulled into a crooked grin, like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

“I didn’t know it was your band!” you admitted, your breath hitching slightly in the cold air as you flicked the butt of your cigarette away. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, trying to stop your teeth from chattering. Alex’s grin grew wider, and he giggled in that soft, quiet way you remembered, the one that was almost more like a shy exhale than an actual laugh.

“Seriously?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He stood a little taller, his shoulders less hunched, but still guarded, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself in the moment. He glanced down at his shoes for a second, the cold making his movements more fidgety.

“Seriously!” you insisted, laughing. “I didn’t even know you were in a band!”

He let out another small giggle, shaking his head as if the thought was unbelievable. “So you haven’t been keeping tabs on me, eh?” he asked, a half-smirk forming on his lips as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his voice teasing but not unkind. 

“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” you shot back, a grin tugging at your lips as you watched him shift awkwardly on his feet, his arms now folded even tighter across his chest. He looked almost bashful for a second, biting the inside of his cheek like he was caught off guard by your question.

“Of course I have.” he replied, his voice soft but sincere, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. His smile faded for a moment, replaced by something more thoughtful, more real. “How could I not?”

There was a vulnerability in the way he said it, his usual defenses slipping. He shifted again, glancing down at the ground before his eyes met yours again. The wind whipped through the alley, ruffling his already messy hair, but neither of you moved. The cold seemed to fade as you stood there, locked in that moment together.

You could see the boy you once knew so clearly in front of you. But there was something different, too. He’d grown up. He was still Alex, but there was a new confidence hidden underneath it all, buried somewhere beneath the lingering awkwardness.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” you admitted quietly, your voice almost lost in the wind. The words slipped out before you had a chance to stop them, but you didn’t regret it. It was the truth. After all the time that had passed, after all the moments you thought about reaching out and never did, standing here now felt surreal.

Alex looked at you, his eyes softening. “Yeah, me neither.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He kicked at the gravel beneath his feet, the sound small against the night air. “But I always hoped I would, you know?”

You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “So, a band, huh? You made it then.” you asked, trying to lighten the mood a little, your grin returning as you gestured toward the venue.

He laughed again, this time a little louder, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah, I guess we’re alright.” he said, that self-deprecating humour you knew so well creeping into his voice. He looked away for a second, his cheeks flushing slightly from either the cold or the compliment, you couldn’t tell. You hoped it was the latter. “I didn’t think we’d get this far.”

“Well,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow, “it sounds like you’re doing more than alright.”

Alex’s grin widened, and he looked down again, this time with a smile on his face. “Thanks.” he mumbled, his voice soft as he shifted closer, his arm brushing against yours.

And just like that, it felt like no time had passed at all. The cold air still bit at your skin, but standing there with Alex, everything else seemed to melt away. It was all still there, but somehow, it didn’t matter. Not in this moment.

He gave you that familiar, lopsided grin again, the one that always seemed to make his eyes soften just a little. “You haven’t changed a bit.” he said, his voice warm with nostalgia as his gaze flickered between your face and the ground.

You laughed, “Oh, I’ve changed.” you said, smirking as you pushed your chest up a little through your low-cut top, giving him a teasing look. “I’ve got boobs now.”

His eyes widened, the soft laugh he’d been holding back escaping as he immediately looked away, biting down on his lip like he wasn’t sure where to look next. His cheeks flushed red, and for a split second, it seemed like he didn't know how to handle a joke like this.

But despite his nervousness, he couldn’t help himself. There was really no other option. Your chest was right there, the neckline of your tank leaving very little to the imagination, and the way you were pushing them up made it impossible for him not to look. You could practically see him wrestle with whether it was “appropriate” but after a moment, his gaze flicked back down.

“I’ve noticed.” he said, a bit sheepishly, his voice low and rough around the edges. His eyes darted back to yours, then dipped to your chest for just a second before he quickly looked back up again, that sheepish grin still lingering on his lips. “They’re, uh...quite nice.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he was getting, especially with the remnants of that post-show euphoria still buzzing in him. He was clearly feeling the rush, but he was also just a boy, not quite used to this sort of attention. And especially not from you.

“Well, thank you, mister Turner.” you replied, laying on a fake posh accent that you knew would make him laugh. You tilted your head, giving him a mock-serious expression as if you were accepting a grand compliment from royalty.

Alex burst out laughing, his cheeks still flushed as he wiped a hand over his face, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous.” he muttered. 

He glanced down at your chest once more, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His gaze lingered for just a second too long before he caught himself and looked back at you, giving you a look that said he knew he’d been caught. He shrugged, still laughing softly, his breath visible in the cool air.

“Some things have changed, I guess.” he added, his voice quieter now. “You’re even prettier now.” he said, the words slipping out like they had been waiting there, just beneath the surface. His voice was sincere, and for the first time since you’d bumped into him, you were the one who felt caught off guard.

Heat crept up your neck, and you couldn’t help the small blush that warmed your cheeks. You’d expected him to stay in that playful zone, but here he was, saying something real, something sweet. 

“Oh, shut up.” you muttered, though the smile pulling at your lips betrayed you. You ducked your head for a second, tucking your hair behind your ear, feeling a little too seen. When you looked back at him, he was grinning again, clearly amused by the fact that he’d managed to make you blush.

“I’m serious.” he said softly, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than usual before he dropped his gaze, fidgeting with the cuff of his jacket.

You swallowed, and, eager to break the tension, you asked, “So, are you going anywhere after this? You know, big rockstar plans or whatever?” You didn’t know where this night was heading, but you didn’t want it to end just yet.

Alex shrugged, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “Nah, nah, not really. Just kinda...hanging out for now.” he replied, his voice casual, though there was a trace of hopefulness in the way he said it. “What about you?”

You shook your head, laughing as you gestured vaguely toward the venue behind you. “I’m just passing time. My friend’s probably hooking up with some rando in the toilets by now.” you said, rolling your eyes.

Alex let out a sharp laugh, his head tilting back as his shoulders shook with the effort of holding in his amusement. “Lucky her.” he said, still chuckling as he leaned against the wall, his body a little more relaxed now that the tension had broken.

“Nah.” you replied with a grin, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m better off than her, I’m sure.”

At your words, something flickered in Alex’s expression, a shift in the way he looked at you. His laughter faded into a quiet smile as he glanced at you, and for a split second, you could feel the meaning of what you’d just implied hanging in the air between you. He knew what you meant, knew exactly what you were suggesting, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you for a moment longer than usual, his eyes studying you carefully, like he was thinking something but didn’t want to lay it out so clearly.

Instead, he just smiled, a small, knowing grin, and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah...maybe.” he said quietly, his voice trailing off as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He leaned in a little closer, his arm brushing against yours again. 

Neither of you said what you were really thinking, but it lingered there, just beneath the surface. The night seemed quieter all of a sudden, the distant sounds of the city fading into the background as the two of you stood there, close, but not quite close enough.

You leaned into him for just a moment, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your top. The night had gotten colder, and the light shiver that ran through you didn’t go unnoticed. Alex glanced down, his lips curling into that half-smile he seemed to always have when he was about to say something cheeky, as you’d quickly come to learn. 

“You’re too scantily clad for a night like this.” he said. 

Before you could respond, he shifted off the wall, pulling his hands from his pockets as he shrugged off his jacket. You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. “You’re so predictable.” you said, shaking your head with a soft laugh.

He gave you a mock-serious look. “Hey look, I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman over ‘ere.” he said, his accent thickening as he exaggerated the words. He stepped closer, draping the jacket over your shoulders and wrapping his arms around you briefly in the process. It was still warm from his body, the scent of him, faintly smoky, a hint of sweat, and that something unique to him you noticed earlier, clinging to the fabric. His shirt underneath was still damp from sweat in places from the performance earlier, despite the cold air.

As he settled the jacket around you, his hand brushed against your waist, the touch light but enough to make both of you tense for just a second. The spark of contact felt like a jolt, neither of you quite ready for it but neither pulling away either. His eyes flicked to yours for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze, before he broke it, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He fished out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one loose and perching it between his lips. “Naughty boy.” you muttered, watching the cigarette bob as he grinned around it.

“Give us a light?” he asked, his words slurred through the filter, eyes focused on you with that smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Don’t you have one? Who smokes but doesn’t have a lighter?”

Alex chuckled, his free hand moving to brace himself against the wall, right next to your head. He leaned in just a little, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. “I do have me own, but I just wanted you to do it for me.”

The warmth of his body was so close now, the scent of him even stronger. You could practically feel his breath mixing with yours. You bit your lip, not missing the way his eyes briefly flickered down as you reached into your top, pulling out your lighter from where you’d stashed it in your bra. 

“Convenient.” he murmured, though he didn’t comment on the fact that, from this angle, with how close he was, he could practically see everything. But you knew he noticed. His smirk faltered for just a second before he quickly recovered.

With the lighter in hand, you leaned forward, flicking it on and holding the flame to the tip of his cigarette. His face was close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw he couldn’t shave quite right and the redness left behind on his spotty face. His cheeks hollowed as he took a long inhale, the cigarette’s end glowing brighter with each pull. 

The moment felt almost surreal. Him leaning against the wall with his arm above your head, his jacket warming your shoulders, and that small, playful distance between you suddenly feeling razor-thin. When he pulled back, exhaling a long stream of smoke, his gaze lingered on you for just a beat longer than it should have. “Cheers.” he said quietly, his voice softer now, the smirk replaced with something more genuine.

You felt the tension building in the air between you, the way his body leaned just a little closer to yours, the faint scent of smoke mixing with the cool breeze and his jacket still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. The moment stretched, a pause neither of you seemed eager to break, but you couldn’t help the words that slipped from your lips.

“I really want you to kiss me.” you said, your voice steady but quiet, as if the sentence was waiting there all night, just waiting for you to give it life.

Alex blinked, his lips parting slightly as he processed what you’d just said. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tone cautious, almost like he couldn’t quite let himself believe it. He shifted, straightening up a bit but still hovering close, searching your face as if he needed reassurance that he’d heard you correctly.

You smiled, feeling a buzz from the drinks you’d had earlier and the way his presence made your heart pound. “I’m a bit buzzed.” you admitted. 

He chuckled. “I can tell.” he said, his eyes scanning your face again, softer now, like he was checking for something in your expression.

You felt the rush of the moment push you forward, your confidence boosted by the alcohol and the closeness. “I’ll kiss you, then.” you said. 

His breath hitched, and he raised an eyebrow, that playful smirk making its way back to his lips. “Okay, then.” he replied, almost challenging, though his voice wavered just enough to show he wasn’t as sure of himself as he was trying to be.

“Yeah?” you asked, eyes locking with his, waiting for just a hint of hesitation. But instead, he nodded, his grin faltering slightly. 

“Go ahead.” he murmured. 

You didn’t wait any longer. Leaning in, your heart racing, you closed the gap between you two, your lips pressing against his. His lips were warm and soft, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fall away. 

Alex responded slowly at first, his hand still braced against the wall, but after a beat, you felt him relax, his lips moving with yours as the kiss deepened. The tension that had been simmering between you two finally melted. His free hand hovered near your waist like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you, but the warmth radiating from him was enough.

He pulled back, his lips still brushing against yours as he licked them slowly, like he was tasting the moment. He stayed close. 

“You’re cute.” you said, voice low and steady, though you couldn’t hide the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough, but playful, still riding the high of that kiss.

“Yeah.” you replied with a grin, your hands slipping up to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his messy hair. “Forgot to tell you earlier.”

Your fingers toyed with the strands there, tugging gently, and you felt him lean into it, his body inching closer, the space between you shrinking as your hands slowly guided him back in. His lips met yours again, harder this time, with less hesitation. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, almost impatient, begging for entrance. You let him in, and the moment his tongue touched yours, everything seemed to ignite.

He tasted good. Minty from the menthol cigarette still lingering on his breath. The kiss was deeper, messier, and you could feel his heartbeat against your chest, his body pressed against yours as the tension that had been building finally snapped.

Fuck, he wasn’t just cute. He was hot. And he could kiss. Really kiss.

You pulled back suddenly, breathless, and his lips were swollen, eyes half-lidded and hazy as he tried to catch his breath. 

“You wanna shag in the toilets?” you asked, a grin tugging at your lips as you glanced over your shoulder, back toward the dingy venue.

He chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. “Like your friend?” he asked, still catching his breath, but the humour was there in his eyes.

“Yeah.” you teased, biting your lip, the taste of him still lingering.

He shook his head with a small laugh, leaning back against the wall. “Nah.” he said, definite.

“Why not?” you asked, pouting slightly but still amused by his answer.

“It reeks in there.” he replied, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust, though the smile never left his face.

You tilted your head, biting back a laugh as you pressed him further. “But you’d shag me?”

He didn’t respond right away, just smiled that slow, crooked smile that made your stomach flip. Without a word, he leaned back in, his lips finding yours again, this time with even more urgency. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you like he was trying to make up for some lost time. It was rough and hungry, until his lips were swollen and red, and you could feel the slick of spit on his chin, though he didn’t bother wiping it away.

It didn’t matter. Nothing did right now except the way his body felt against yours, the warmth of his breath, and the wild pounding of your heart in your chest.

Alex shifted slightly on his feet, and you noticed the way his body seemed to sway, just the tiniest bit, like he was caught somewhere between the buzz of the moment and the cool night pressing down around you both. You could still taste the minty sharpness of his cigarette on your lips, mingling with the smoky air, and for a second, you just stood there, watching him, as if you were both waiting for something.

“So, do you still live at home?” you asked, trying to break the silence that hung between you. The question came out a little soft, a little unsure, like it was trying to find its place in the moment.

He looked, a half-smile playing on his lips. “High Green? Nah.” he said, shaking his head as if the thought amused him. His voice still had that easy, laid-back tone, but there was a hint of nostalgia in the way he said it, like memories were still lingering there, even if he’d left them behind. “Renting a flat here in the city now.”

You nodded, biting your lip, watching the way his face shifted when he talked about it. “You live alone?” you asked, your curiosity pushing you to keep the conversation going. There was so much you didn’t know now.

“Nah.” he said again, the word slipping out easily, like it was his go-to response. “With one of the lads from the band.”

His posture relaxed a little, leaning his weight back against the wall again. The easy smile never left his face, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, more focused now, like he was giving you more than just surface-level answers. 

You found yourself smiling back, the tension between you both still crackling, but softer now, more controlled. “Is he going back there now?” you asked, leaning in just a little as you spoke, your hand still brushing against the back of his neck, feeling his warmth.

“Nah.” he replied, intentionally repeating himself now, now that he’d noticed the way you smiled every time he said it. “He’s probably going to his girlfriend’s place after this.”

“Is he now?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you gave him a playful nudge. Your eyes caught the slight flush of colour creeping up his neck, though he still looked entirely at ease. He was enjoying every second of your back-and-forth.

“Yeah, he’s been spending more time there lately.” he continued. He paused, as if he was thinking over his next words carefully. “The flat’s not too far from here though.”

The suggestion of it was subtle, but it was there, clear as day.

“Convenient.” you said. The implication of the word wasn’t lost on either of you. Alex’s grin widened just a bit, and he shifted again, his eyes flicking down to the ground for a moment before they met yours once more.

He gave a small laugh, almost nervous, like he was suddenly aware of how close you both were standing, like he could feel the weight of your gaze just as much as you could feel his. “Yeah.” he said, “S’pose it is.”

Before you even had time to fully process how it happened, you were both in the back of a taxi, with you half-draped over Alex’s lap, your bodies magnetically drawn to each other. His arms hesitated to fully hold you, like he wasn’t sure where to place his hands, but his mouth was far less shy. His lips moved with yours, soft but insistent, while his tongue teased its way into your mouth. 

By the time you stepped into his flat, you were both a little out of breath. You didn’t even remember paying the taxi driver. Alex’s jacket had been discarded somewhere near the door, and you were too wrapped up in each other to care where anything landed. His hands still hovered, like they weren’t sure what to do or where to go, but his mouth stayed busy with yours. 

His uncertainty made you bold, and you guided his hands to your hips, then lower, placing them firmly on your arse.

“Go on, Turner,” you whispered against his lips, “don’t be shy.”

That seemed to do the trick. His grip tightened, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your jeans, and the next thing you knew, your hand had found its way to the front of his jeans, cupping him over the denim. You felt him twitch under your palm, his breath catching in his throat, and for a second, you thought he might lose it right there.

“Mhm…” he murmured, his voice a low, throaty sound that vibrated through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed. 

You grinned, your lips brushing against his ear. “You wanna see my boobs?” you teased, your voice soft but suggestive. “So you can see if they’re really nice or not?”

“Like I’m the boob connoisseur?” he asked and you nodded. His eyes flicked down for a split second before he caught himself, smirking slightly as he shot back, “Give the final verdict?”

“Yeah.” you said, already pulling your top over your head. 

“Fuck yeah.” His hands lingered at your waist, still a little hesitant, but you could see the hunger in his eyes as they followed every movement. Your bra was next, unclasped and tossed aside with the same casual disregard as everything else.

He grinned, his lip curling up slightly, that cheeky side of him coming out again. “And then I’ll rank your junk.” you added, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Alex chuckled, his hands finally gaining more confidence as they skimmed over your bare skin, lingering at the curve of your waist. “My dick’s quite decent, I’d say.” he replied, slipping out of his shirt and closing the space between you. His bare chest pressed against yours, warm and firm, as he backed you toward the bedroom.

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Alright then.” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. Without warning, he pushed you gently back onto the bed, his hands guiding you down onto the mattress.

His eyes roamed over your body as he stood at the foot of the bed, his chest rising and falling a little quicker now, his breathing shallow. He took his time, watching as you sprawled out beneath him, his lips parted slightly, his hands running through his already-messy hair as if he were trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was actually happening.

You felt your nipples hardening as you watched him take you in. He was standing there, looking tall despite the reality of it, but with a quiet intensity that made your stomach twist in the best way. His jeans hung low on his hips, and the bulge at the front of them was impossible to ignore. He looked almost nervous, but his eyes were full of want, his body language betraying the cocky front he was trying to keep up.

“C’mon then.” you coaxed, “get on with it.”

Alex’s mouth quirked up into a grin as he leaned down, his hands sliding over your thighs, spreading them apart as he moved between them. His touch was still a little tentative, but the longer it went on, the bolder he got. You could see the shift in him, giving way to something more confident. 

He leaned down, pressing his lips to your collarbone, trailing slow, wet kisses across your skin as his hands continued to explore, one sliding under the curve of your ass, the other gripping your waist firmly. 

“You really have changed.” he muttered between kisses. “You’re even more trouble.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. “And you like it.” you whispered, your breath hitching as his lips found a sensitive spot just below your ear.

He pulled back for a moment, his eyes dark and hooded as he looked down at you. “Yeah.” he admitted, his voice soft but intense. “That I do.”

And then he was on you again, his lips crashing against yours, harder this time, more desperate. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your thighs, gripping your hips, tugging at the waistband of your jeans. You could feel the urgency in him, the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you both finally breaking free.

Your fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, pulling it loose before sliding the zipper down. You could feel him straining against the fabric. 

“Let’s see if that junk lives up to your bragging.” you teased, your voice breathless as you tugged his jeans down over his hips.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he helped you slide them off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He leaned over you again, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Guess you’ll just have to suck it and see.”

You blinked at his cheeky grin, your lips parting in surprise at the audacity of his words. “Did you really just say that?” you asked. 

Alex chuckled, his breath fanning over your cheek as he tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah.” he replied, leaning in closer. “I did.”

You bit your bottom lip, stifling a laugh that bubbled up from the back of your throat. “You’re such an idiot.” you muttered, but the heat between you didn’t fade, if anything, it grew. You could feel his body against yours, the weight of him, the scent of sweat and desire lingering in the air.

Without another word, he gripped the loops of your jeans and yanked you down the bed, making you gasp as you slid to the edge. You could barely get a word in before he was slipping them off, his fingers brushing the curve of your hips and thighs as the denim peeled away. 

“I can’t be the only one with less on.” he said, his voice low and teasing as he tossed your jeans aside, his hands lingering on your bare legs, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear.

“Fair’s fair.” you shot back with a smirk, though your heart was pounding in your chest now. 

You moved before he could take charge again, sinking to your knees on the floor in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. He was about to reach for you when you gently pushed him back, guiding him to sit on the bed. 

You could feel the heat coming off him, radiating through the tainted material of his boxers as your hand brushed over him. He was hard, so hard. Your fingers trailed over the fabric, feeling him twitch beneath your touch. “You’re quite eager.”

“You’re quite hot.” he shot back. 

You grinned, enjoying the control you had for the moment. Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His breath hitched as you revealed more of him, the fabric slipping away. When you finally had them off, he kicked them aside with impatience, pushing them down the rest of the way himself.

Your eyes widened, unable to stop yourself from letting out a low, “Wow.”

Alex smirked again, his confidence bolstered by your reaction. “Does it live up to your expectations?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice still that teasing blend of cockiness and curiosity.

You looked back up at him, biting your lip, pretending to consider your answer for a moment. “For now.” you said, flashing him a grin.

He chuckled, his hand reaching down to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek for just a moment. He didn’t need to say anything. The way he shifted slightly and the heat in his eyes spoke louder than words ever could. He was watching you with this raw, unguarded hunger, almost like he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask for what he wanted. You felt his fingers tighten in your hair just a little, urging you, guiding you down without saying a word.

You leaned in, letting your lips brush the head of his cock first. The taste hit you almost immediately. A salty, sweet mix that spread over your tongue, exactly what you should’ve expected from him. Everything about him was intoxicating, addictive in a way that had you leaning further in, wanting more. You slowly wrapped your lips around the tip, teasing him with your tongue, feeling the soft skin give under your touch.

The groan that escaped his lips was low and deep. He was struggling, you could tell, fighting to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch you, but the sensation seemed to overwhelm him. “Fuck.” he murmured, his voice hoarse. 

Your hand reached out instinctively, and before you even had to ask, he spit into your palm, his breath hitching as he did so. The moment his spit hit your skin, you felt a surge of arousal run through you, making you slick in places far from your hand. It was like you were feeding off each other.

You spread the wetness over his cock, your hand stroking him with slow motions. His body tensed under your touch, his hips lifting just slightly off the bed, like he was chasing the feeling. Your other hand gripped the base as your lips sucked on the tip. 

The noises he was making now were more than just groans. He was practically panting, his breath ragged, his fingers tightening in your hair, but still not forcing, not rushing you. His control was hanging by a thread, and you could feel it in the way his muscles twitched, the way his body seemed to move in sync with yours. 

You smiled around him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper, your hand still working the length of him in time with the slow bob of your head. 

Alex’s head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths, each one escaping him in soft gasps. His groans grew quieter, more controlled, but then, a sudden whimper.

Before he could lose it completely, his hand shot down to the base of his cock, squeezing hard. He pulled you off him as he tried to get control of himself. 

“Fuck.” he whispered, his hand still gripping himself tightly.

You sat back on your knees, lips tingling and wet, watching him try to regain control. “Need a second, yeah?” you asked. 

“Yeah…” he nodded, eyes still half-closed as he exhaled. “You’re killing me.”

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you climbed up over him, straddling his hips. “You’re the one who stopped me.” you teased, your voice playful, leaning down to kiss his neck, trailing soft kisses up toward his jawline. His skin was hot beneath your lips, his scent still lingering thick in the air.

“Didn’t want to end things too soon.” he mumbled, his hands sliding over your thighs, gripping your hips with a little more urgency now. His fingers were firm, almost desperate. He needed to hold onto something. When his hands slid lower to grab your ass, you couldn’t help but gasp softly. God, his hands felt so big on you, rough and sure as they gripped you tight. 

You bit your lip, leaning into his touch. “I don’t mind.” you whispered against his ear. His breath hitched, and you could feel the way his body reacted to your words, his grip on you tightening even more. 

“You’ll have to wait.” he muttered, though the way he was looking at you, with half-lidded eyes, made you question his own resolve. His hands slid over the curve of your ass, repeatedly, squeezing, and the feeling of his touch sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You think you can hold off that long?” you asked, grinding down on him just a little, testing his control. You could feel him, still hard and straining beneath you, his cock pressing against your inner thigh, and the friction made you bite back a moan.

He groaned softly, his hands pulling you closer, fingers digging into your skin as his body responded almost instinctively. “You’re making it real hard not to lose it.” he breathed. 

“Good.” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his with a teasing softness, just enough to leave him wanting more. 

Alex’s hands slid up and down back. His fingers found the edge of your panties, toying with the fabric before slipping them to the side. The air between you crackled with tension, your breath catching as you felt him exploring you, fingers slipping through your wetness. He took his time, finding his way through your folds, testing you, making sure he had your full attention. 

Then, as his fingers brushed against your clit, you let out a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to the touch. His face lit up, eyes widening slightly, a crooked grin spreading across his lips.

“Found it, did I?” he teased, his voice a low murmur as he pressed a little harder, circling around your clit in slow, lazy strokes. You nodded, biting your lip, your hips shifting toward his hand. His fingers worked with an unexpected precision, even as his movements remained somewhat tentative, but god, he was learning fast.

“Fuck, Alex.” you whispered, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he continued, his other hand holding you steady on top of him. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes glinting as he focused on you, the pride in his voice obvious. “I think I can tell.” he added, his fingers moving a little faster now, testing your reactions. Your moans grew louder, hips bucking into his touch, and the sound seemed to fuel him.

“You’re good at this.” you managed to say between breaths, your fingers gripping his shoulders for balance. 

“Well, I’m tryin’ my best,” he teased, but there was a seriousness in his expression now, his gaze locked onto you, like he couldn’t get enough of watching the way you responded to him. “You make it pretty easy.”

You shuddered under his touch, biting down on your lip as he continued to rub circles against your clit. His fingers slipped lower for a moment, teasing at your entrance, and then back up, keeping you on the edge but never giving you quite enough.

“Alex...” you groaned, gripping his arms a little tighter. “Please. Fuck me.”

He paused for a second, eyes flicking up to yours. When he saw the desperate look on your face, he let out a soft chuckle. “Fuck…okay.”

He moved quickly then, flipping you onto your back, the mattress soft beneath you as you lay sprawled out beneath him. His hands were everywhere. Gripping your hips, pulling your panties off, tossing them to the side. You barely had time to register the cool air against your bare skin before he was back, hovering over you. 

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs as he positioned himself between them. His hair hung over his forehead, his skin still glistening with sweat, and the sight of him like this, flushed, hungry, and completely focused on you, fuck.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice low, the words barely audible over the sound of your own heavy breathing.

“Yeah.” you whispered, your hands finding his shoulders again, pulling him closer. “God, yes. Please.”

Alex didn’t need any more encouragement. With a soft groan, he lined himself up, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter as he pushed into you, slow at first, letting you feel him. 

“Fuck.” he breathed, his head dropping to your shoulder as he began to move inside you, his body pressing into yours with a steady rhythm. “You feel so fucking good...”

Alex moaned as he sank deeper into you, his breath hot against your neck, and you couldn’t help but moan in return. The rhythm of his thrusts started slow, his hips driving into yours with this incredible mixture of urgency and control. Each movement felt perfect, his cock filling you in a way that made you feel dizzy with pleasure, like your body was made for this, for him.

“Fuck, Alex…” you gasped, arching up into him, your hands gripping his back, fingers digging into his skin. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his muscles flexing beneath your touch as he moved, and every time he hit that sweet spot, your body responded in kind, hips lifting to meet his thrusts.

He groaned in response. “So…so fuckin’ good.” His words were broken by the effort of his thrusts, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both gasped for air.

“You’re…really good at this.” you managed to tease between moans, your voice breathless, but there was no denying how real the compliment was. He felt amazing. Maybe it was the anticipation, the thrill of reconnecting like this. Or maybe it was just him. 

Alex laughed softly, his voice shaky, but you could feel the smile against your skin. “Oh yeah? Thought you were the one judging me.”

“I am.” you breathed, your nails scratching lightly down his back. “And you’re doing really well.”

“Glad I’m living up to expectations.” he muttered, his breath hitching as he thrust into you harder, a little more desperate now. His hands slid up your sides, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, deeper. “Fuck…you’re perfect.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer, wanting him as deep as he could go. “Keep going.” you whispered, voice barely more than a breathy moan. “Just like that.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his pace quickening slightly, his hips snapping forward with a new intensity. He gripped you tighter. 

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle a louder moan. “Don’t stop.”

“Fuck- I’m not stopping.” he groaned, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I’m not stopping…” His thrusts got more erratic, driven by pure need. He was close, and you could feel it in the way his body moved, in the way his grip tightened on you even more, in the way his moans became louder and more frequent.

“Alex…I’m-” you gasped. Your whole body was coiled with pleasure. 

“Fuck, I know.” he murmured, his voice almost lost in his moans. “Me too…” His hips snapped forward one last time, deep and hard, and the sensation sent you spiralling over the edge.

Alex groaned, his breath ragged and uneven as he suddenly pulled out of you, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty for a moment. He scrambled, his movements rushed and almost clumsy in the heat of the moment, hands gripping your thighs as he tried to move himself higher up your body. His eyes were wild with lust, his chest heaving as he positioned himself over you, hands bracing himself on either side of your head.

The realisation that neither of you had even thought about condoms hit you at the same time, but it was too late now, but better late than never.

“Shit-” he muttered, his voice low and breathless as he looked down at you, his cock twitching in his hand as he stroked himself. His eyes flicked between your face and your chest, pupils blown wide.

You bit your lip, watching him, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you arched your back slightly, pushing your breasts up toward him. His breathing got heavier, his strokes faster. 

“Come on, Alex.” you whispered, your voice husky, teasing him as you reached up, running a hand up his chest. “Don’t make me wait.”

That did it.

His hips bucked forward, and he came, thick spurts landing across your chest and tits, the heat of it spreading across your skin. His face was flushed, eyes half-closed as he watched, his lips parted slightly, panting through the release.

“Fuck me…” he breathed, his voice shaky, his hand slowing as he squeezed out the last of his release. He looked down at you, his eyes flicking over the mess he’d made, and for a moment, both of you just stayed there, breathing hard, hearts racing. 

You gave him a lazy, satisfied smile, wiping a finger through the warm liquid on your skin before smirking up at him. “Well,” you said, voice playful but still breathless, “I guess you were right.”

“‘Bout what?” he asked, still coming down from the high, his fingers brushing gently over your thigh.

You grinned. “Your dick. It is quite decent.”

Alex let out a weak laugh, dropping his head against your shoulder, still trying to catch his breath. “Glad I could live up to the hype.” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone.

Alex collapsed against you, his body still trembling slightly. He let out a deep breath, his chest pressing against yours as he nestled into the curve of your neck, his hair sticking to your skin where his release had landed.

You laughed softly, brushing a hand through his messy, sweat-dampened hair. “You’re getting your hair all up in your jizz, Turner.”

He gave a lazy, contented sigh, nuzzling closer to you without moving an inch. “Don’t care.” he mumbled, his voice low and sleepy, as if the effort of saying those two words was almost too much.

You chuckled, lightly stroking his back. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he murmured, half-asleep already, “I’ve had worse.”

You paused for a moment, letting the quiet settle between you, before curiosity got the better of you. “So…do you usually fuck girls after gigs?” The question came out more casually than you intended, but you needed to know for some reason. 

Alex didn’t move. “Nah.” he muttered, his voice muffled by your skin. He shifted, turning his head so his cheek was resting against your chest. “Not really into all that…not good enough for groupies, anyway.”

You snorted at his modesty. “Not good enough? Have you seen yourself? You could probably have your pick of any girl in this city.”

He lifted his head slightly, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?”

“Because I just shagged you,” you teased, raising an eyebrow, “And I’ve got pretty high standards.”

Alex laughed, his body shaking slightly against yours. “Lucky me, then.”

You grinned, running a hand down his back as you felt him settle into you again. “So why me, then?”

He shrugged, his fingers tracing light patterns over your waist, absentmindedly playing with your panties he found on the bed. “Dunno.” he admitted, voice soft and a little more serious now. “Just…been a while, I guess. And then I saw you, and…it felt right.” He paused, then added, “You’ve always been different.”

You glanced down at him, your heart fluttering a little at the sincerity in his words. “Different how?”

He lifted his head again, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you properly. “Like…you’re real. Always have been. Back when we were kids, you were always the one I felt like I could be myself around. And now…” He trailed off, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he shrugged again. “I don’t know. Guess I just wanted to feel that again.”

For a moment, you were quiet, taken aback by his honesty. You hadn’t expected this, him to open up like this. But then again, maybe that was just Alex. Even after all this time.

“You’re such a softie, Turner.” you said, smiling as you lightly flicked his forehead.

He rolled his eyes but smiled back, resting his head on your chest again. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get around, alright? Gotta keep up the cool front for the band.”

You laughed, running your fingers through his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

a/n: based on this request. i love fetussy <3

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 7 - Bloodied Kiss

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: The nightmares are finally catching up to Lucy.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:�� Animal/people death, Blood, Gore, Body Horror,Violence, Nightmares, Monsters, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Mind the tags

*This had been clawing at my mind for dayssssss I needed to post it early or I was going to explode

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the dust of the car faded, Lucy felt her shoulders drop, it was barely past mid-day and she was already feeling worn out. She was proud of herself, for not backing down and holding her ground. Max had been the first boy she’d really fallen for, and it sucked it had ended the way it did. It was time for her to move forward, to let that part of her life go. Move onto what was coming next for her, hopefully, something that won’t end as tragic.

Lucy turned to her two companions as they started to move, happy that they had stood at her back despite having no idea what was going on. She gave a weak smile at the two, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of dread.  

“Ya’doing okay?” Cooper asks as he moves towards her, the way the afternoon sun shone on his skin making her heart speed up. Her eyes unabashedly went over his body, the man was well-toned. The day-to-day work is evident on the hard lines of his muscles covering him; a crooked grin on his face when Lucy finally catches her eyes. 

Lucy glances away, as Dane grins at her, “Yeah, just, wasn’t expecting him to show up. Ever.”

“Well, shirtless. Could I get a hand movin’ some stuff around to get the mower.” Dane chuckles, Cooper smirking at the comment, the tips of his ears going pink. Lucy smiling at the two ribbing each other.

“Yeah, I can help the greasemonkey,” Cooper throws back, with raised eyebrows. “Shirt got wet. But pipes should be fine.” He said just loud enough for them to hear.

“Sure it did,” Dane rolls their eyes as turning to head to the other shed. Cooper gives them a sideways glance before following, a smile on his lips as he looks back at Lucy.

“I will go turn the water back on for the house,” Lucy chirps, her face was going to be stained beet red at this point. She was feeling happy that she had friends like these.

***

Lucy is once again sitting on the counter, the pipes are now running without leaks. Cooper had actually laid in water, which had given Lucy an excuse to toss his shirt into the dryer. She’d take any excuse to see the man move around her home and property shirtless. Dane had teased him endlessly about it much to Lucy’s amusement. Dane had taken off about an hour ago with the promise to come back on Monday to continue the work. Lucy had half a mind to figure out how to keep them on a more permanent basis. Something she’d run by Harris, see if it was worth doing, and if Dane wanted to stay of course. 

Cooper walks in, putting the caulking gun down beside the sink. He’d decide after finishing the pipe to fix up several issues around the sink. Lucy was positive she could have figured it out but Cooper was insistent. Really who was she to refuse the offer from a shirtless cowboy in her kitchen. She hands him a beer, he pops the top off with a ring on his middle finger. Lucy adds that to the list of things she found way too hot. 

“I can make up some dinner?” Lucy offers, she was pretty sure she could find something worth eating in the freezer. She also needed to make sure that she got Cooper some tallow too.

Cooper leans against the counter right beside her, taking a sip of the beer. Lucy can’t help but watch how he drinks it. “If ya don’t mind. Grandparents are taking the kidlets to d’pool and pizza after. Figured, we’re going to have a long day. ”

Lucy couldn’t help the smile that crosses her face, liking the idea of the two of them having an evening just for them. “Were you planning something, Cooper?”

Cooper’s sliding over so that he was leaning against Lucy, “Well, I was goin’ to ask ya out Ms. MacLean, but ya kinda jumped me.”

Lucy's head tipping back in a laugh, taking another sip of her beer. The two of them looked the other over, her eyes trying to memorize the way he looked out of his shirt.  “I don’t seem to remember you complaining,”

The man puts his beer down shifting so he is standing in front of Lucy, she swallows under his gaze. He leans forward putting a bare arm on either side of her, eyes wandering up her body, their face just inches from each other. Lucy’s breath catches in her chest as his hazel eyes stare into hers. 

“M’no, I certainly didn’t.” Cooper hushes, leaning forward to kiss her again. Lucy can’t help the little whine that escapes as she pushes back against him. Her hands ran up his arms, feeling his muscles twitch under the attention. He tastes so good, their tongues finding the other as they pull each other closer.

Her hands come up to cup his face, his hands resting on her thighs, fingers gripping against the flesh there. Lucy lets her legs open so that Cooper can move closer to her. He breaks the kiss, moving down along her jaw, small kisses down her neck. Lucy whimpers as he licks down her neck, his large hands rucking up her shirt. The callous on his fingers makes her body vibrate as he touches over her skin. 

“Cooper,” Lucy whimpers, her hands running up into his hair, as his hands cup her breast through her bra. “M’maybe we should-” His head ducks down, mouth going along her stomach. It feels so good, but it’s so fast. “Cooper, we shouldn’t-”

His teeth sink into her flesh, “Fuck- Ow- Cooper-” Lucy tries to pull him away but he bites in deeper, Lucy can feel her skin tearing. The sound of teeth in flesh, the wet sticky pop, her face twisting in a grimace. 

Lucy is scrambling, a scream finally leaving her throat at the pain, trying to get him off of her. “Stop. Stop-p it.” Lucy cries out, her hands finally pushing him off of her. The skin is not skin anymore, but rough and lizard-like under her hands. Cutting into her palm as she does her best to get it off of her. 

It’s not Cooper. Looking up at her, with blood painting its chin like a crimson river, is something that looks like Max. Its features are the same, but eyes instead of brown glow like orange flames, skin darker than shadows. Skin Covered in layers and layers of never-ending shifting scales that move in the light. A bloody grin spreads across its face. There are too many teeth, so sharp, in neverending rows, the pink spit glistening as it grinned up at her. Stomach oozing blood over her pants and dripping on the floor. 

“Just wanted a taste.” It growls at her, suddenly lunging forward to latch onto her neck.

Lucy is howling and fighting to get it off her struggling, as she falls to the floor. Her body protested as she hit the ground with a thud, the whole room going dark. She is pushing and struggling, but it’s soft now. Her hands are not grabbing at scales but material, eyes adjusting to the new surroundings. She was on the floor of her bedroom; chest heaving as she tries to make sense of where she was, and how she got there. 

Pushing the blanket off of her, she takes in the room around her. Her bedroom, she had fallen off the bed and landed on the floor. Lucy flips on the light and looks down, pulling up her shirt to look at her stomach. Hands running over where there should be torn tissue, before going up to her neck. Nothing. 

It had felt real, she could still feel the way it’s teeth had dug into her, the pain that had shot through her body. Looking at the bed Lucy expected to see blood, expected to see something. Throwing off the sheets there was nothing but sweat stains. 

Lucy collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling at the memory. It looked so much like Max, but it was all wrong. His face had been too round, eyes too far apart, hair too spiky, so many teeth. The eyes, orange fire-filled eyes, glowing like embers burning into her soul like hot ash on ice. Her hands scramble to the side of her table gabbing for her phone. 

For the first time, she doesn’t hesitate, hitting Cooper’s number. Pressing the phone to her ear, she hadn’t even looked at the time.

***

Cooper was there in a matter of minutes, Lucy opening the door for him, still in a state of shock. He had immediately gathered her up into his arms, hugging her tight against his chest, refusing to let her go until he got her over to the couch. He had her sit, covering her with several blankets, before moving into the kitchen. A hot cup of coffee with hot chocolate was put in front of her, along with some toast. He slid in beside her, bundling her up and tucking Lucy into his side. Her hands wrapping around him as she shivers, her whole body felt like it was frozen.

“You doing okay, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, his voice rumbling against the side of her head. Lucy could feel herself melting into his side, wanting to find some way to stay there forever.

Lucy swallows, nodding, “Just-” She wasn’t even sure how to put it all into words. It wasn’t exactly normal to have eighties horror movie dreams every night. “Nightmares have been really bad.” 

Cooper rubs his hand down her arm, Lucy lets her eyes close for a moment and enjoy the comfort.“How often have you been having them?”

Lucy snuggled in closer, reaching for the coffee mug and taking a sip. The warm caffeine and chocolate drink heating her insides. “Since the house got ransacked, it’s been nightly.”

Cooper’s chest grumbles at the words, arms somehow pulling her closer to him. “What was it about?”

“I don’t, I-” Lucy takes a sip of more coffee, before telling him what she’d dreamt about. Not skipping any details, the warmth of the coffee and his body made it easier to get it off her chest. 

Cooper hums, he takes his hat off, setting it beside him on the couch, hand running into his hair. He scratches at the stubble for a second. “Well, that wasn’t the dreams I’d hope you’d have of me.”

Lucy smacks his stomach at the joke, a small smile passing on her lips at the jest, “You think I like this? I’d much prefer no dreams, or well other dreams.”

Cooper grins, Lucy pouting a little, as he chuckles, “No, I don’t think that, I do worry about the nightmares. Can’t ‘member the last time I had a night-terror. Why you’re tired all the time?”

She nods, her eyelids weighing heavy despite the coffee and mind-bending visions.“I feel like I am losing my mind, Cooper.” 

“You’re not goin’ crazy, I think ya need sleep. Maybe some time away.” Cooper mumbles into her ear, pushing hair out of her face. “Why don’t ya let me take ya to my home.”

Lucy’s brows furrow, she didn’t want him to leave, but she also felt like she should stay. Why did she want to stay? The nightmares never stopped her, the shadows, the taping, the knocking? Yet the thought of leaving made her stomach turn, but when Lucy left she felt lighter. 

“You promise you don’t think I am going crazy?” Lucy whispers, wondering how much he would believe. How much did she even believe? None of this made sense, not really. 

He shifts so he can look right at her, eyebrows making his forehead wrinkle.“I promise I don’t think’ya’re goin’ crazy. Anymore than am goin’ crazy.”

“I feel like I am supposed to be here, even with all the nightmares, the shadows, the house being tossed. I keep comin’ back.” Lucy states, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. Saying it out loud made it seem even more ridiculous than it had in the confines of her mind.

Cooper nods, placing the mug on the coffee table, hand running up and down her arm more. “It’s not surprisin’, this place is your home. It’s where ya grew up.”

“It’s not just that,” Lucy said, sitting up a bit, clutching at the mug, trying to hold onto some shred of reality. “It’s like something is pulling me here. Like I can’t leave.”

“So, leavin’ would probably be wise,” Cooper replies, his hand finding hers. “You’re sleep-deprived, runnin’ on fumes, Lucy. We have a spare room ya can stay in. Until ya can catch up on sleep, have a better view on thin’s with a clear head.”

Lucy sat back, the thought of being off the farm made her stomach twist, but she also needed sleep. Actual sleep sounded amazing, to not feel like she was burning at both ends. 

She nods her head finally. “Yeah, maybe I do need to leave.” 

***

Lucy was sitting at her family's dinner table, watching the kids outside to play on the deck. She had slept most of the day away, her exhaustion not feeling nearly as pressing as it usually did. The spring air was warm today, the hints of summer shifting in the air. She’d slept most of the day, Cooper had brought her to his place at about three am, the two tiptoeing upstairs. Initially, he’d offered her the spare bedroom, but after opening the door and seeing a pile of laundry, his room was the next best. Cooper had insisted on sleeping downstairs, despite Lucy’s best attempt to get him to stay. Traumatizing the children wasn’t high on her list. She was a little peeved he hadn’t woken her up, but she was also grateful for the extended rest. 

Stephanie sat down across from her, glancing out at the kids. They were running back and forth across the deck, possibly paying tag. “How’s it going, Lucy.”

“I am doing okay,” Lucy lies, there was no reason anyone needed to know any more about her problems. “Did you ever talk to Betty?”

“Oh! Yes, Betty.” Stephanie smiled, digging through her phone. “I sent her the photos.” She lets out a sigh, “Unfortunately no dice. Seems like it’s still a mystery.”

“Dang was hopin’ we’d get somethin’ more,” Cooper said, sitting beside Lucy. She desperately wants to crawl onto his lap and fall asleep, but instead, she shuffles a little closer. Steph watching the two of them closely, one eyebrow up. 

“Yeah. probably something diggin’ like you said.” Steph says, shutting her phone off and leaning back into her chair. “Had any more weird stuff happen?” 

Lucy shook her head, not wanting to get into the details, “Nope, hoping it stays that way really.” 

Bert sat down beside Steph leaning in to give her a quick kiss, “Y’all heard about the Roths.”

Cooper and Lucy looking at each other, shaking their heads. It wasn’t like they had had a free moment lately.

“Last night something came and killed two calves. Did some damage to some of the cows too.” Bert sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Like we needed more loss this year.”

Lucy's mind ran over the property map. The Roth's had a section leased from her that was back half on parkland and half onto her farm. There was also the nightmare last night.

“Which section was it?” Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.

“The section southwest of your place, actually,” Reg's brows furrowing. “Weird huh.”

“Do you know what time?” Cooper asks, his hands taping at the table.

Lucy realizing that Cooper was also putting two and two together. 

“Not sure, I know it was overnight.” Reg replied, “Why? Something happened with you guys too?”

Lucy swallowed, her hands going to cover her stomach. The feeling of her flesh ripping out, the haunting image of its eyes, the sound of its voice. 

“Nothing of note, we did have a mummified calf. But Barry figures it was just a bad pregnancy.” Cooper shrugs, the action supposed to be of disinterest, but his shoulders stay tight. Lucy is happy that he didn't bring up her nightmares until she got some more sleep it wasn’t worth mentioning. Right? 

“Maybe it's the weird spring. Warming up too fast. Animals reacting to it,” Steph adds, her hand covering Reg's. Her eyes looking between the two of them. 

Cooper is up and moving as the sliding door opens, Mathias holding a frog in his hand. The little boy had a grin from ear to ear as he holds it up to show his Dad the little critter he'd found.

“Can't bring it in here, buddy. Why don't we go take it to the pond,” Cooper tells him with a smile, petting the little creature his son held up. Lucy smiling as the two wander out of sight.

“So how long you two-” Steph raises an eyebrow, with a cheshire smile,

“Been a thing?” 

Lucy’s cheeks burn at the words, not realizing how obvious she had been. “No. Well. Yes. But not that long. Didn’t realize I was that transparent..” 

The couple chuckle, Steph smiling at her cousin, as she squeezes Reg’s hand. Free hand waving at Lucy as if it was nothing.

“You both need a little light in your lives,” Reg states smiling at Lucy, before looking at his wife. 

“Keeping things quiet for now. Haven't really talked about it much.” Lusy confesses, Marge coming over to sit at the table.

“Keeping what quiet hon?” Marge questions, holding a cup of tea in her hands. Cooper comes back in through the sliding door, walking over and kissing Lucy on the cheek. Marge chuckles and makes an ahh sound, Lucy doing her damndest not to slide under the table. 

“As long as you're both happy,” Harris says, patting Lucy on the shoulder. Lucy having a hard time keeping her cool, it wasn’t as if they’d put a label on things. They’d kissed once for crying out loud.

“Could I speak to you for a moment, Lucy?” Harris asks, kissing Marge on the top of her head before moving towards the hallway.

“Absolutely,” Lucy smiles, looking back at Coope who nods before following her Uncle into the big house. 

Down past the bedrooms a door leads into a well-lit office, the far wall has three large windows that face out into the backyard and forest line. A large old desk sat in the middle, along with several large filing cabinets and bookshelves. The room was bright against the dark wood, space big enough for two large overstuffed chairs beside the bookcases. On a well-worn stool were three faded bankers' boxes. Lucy recognizes her Grandpa's handwriting on the front. Harris puts a big hand on top of one rotating so he is facing Lucy.

“Me and Margie have,” He pauses looking out the large windows towards the forest. “Debated about whether we should give you these. Tim asked me to burn them. But it didn't feel right.”

Lucy crossed her arms, hugging herself a little as she looked at her Uncle. His usual nonchalant demeanor now scrunched together in tight lines across his face. Pacing back and forth in front of the window as he spoke. 

“These are Tim’s journals. Going back to a month after your Dad and Uncle went missing.” Harris replies, Lucy, feels a wave of dread wash over her as he moves over to his filing cabinet.

“They didn't go missing- '' Lucy goes to reply, Harris placing a newspaper in front of her. Headline read Two men killed in farm accident. “Yeah, this is what Tim showed me.”

“Flip to page four,” Harris said, Lucy did as he asked, unable to get a read on his emotions. Page four has a smaller blurb, Search for brothers ends. Lucy reads through the blurb, a cold pool of dread weighing in her guts. 

“They went missing in the forest. In the forest around my house.” Lucy whispers, her hands shaking as she rereads the words. “They never found the bodies.”

Harris meets her eyes as she looks up at him, “What is going on?” Lucy demands dropping the paper on top of the boxes. “Why? Why? Did no one tell me?”

“Tim made us promise,” Harris said, placing his big bear paw-sized hands on her shoulder, it felt like the weight of the news pressing down on her. “He didn’t want you or Norm to know. He figured that if you thought they were dead you could move on. In ways he never let himself move on.” 

Lucy moves away from Harris, a deep sense of betrayal washing over her. “You’re telling me he didn’t think they were dead? It’s been decades since they went missing.”

Harris had sat himself down in one of the overstuffed chairs. “We searched and searched for weeks. Even after search and rescue stopped, stuf-,” He rubs one of his big mitts across a day's worth of stubble. “Stuff happened during the search. Stuff that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Lucy sighs, flopping into the chair beside her Uncle, “Could we not be vague, please? I can handle whatever happened then.”

“While we were searching, people heard things.” Harris’s face went pale.

“They kept hearing Hank call out, or Shaun. It sounded like they were close, but we could never find them. It would go quiet for days, then Me and Tim would go out and hear them again.”

Lucy swallows, “Like it was calling you there.”

Harris looks at her, a knowing look passing over his face. “It scared some of the volunteers. Hearing them, but never finding them. Then a week before your Mom checked out it stopped. These journals are the first time I even had any idea that it had continued after you both got there.” 

“We spent our entire childhood in and out of those woods.” Lucy’s voice was raised, her heart thudding in her chest. “Why would he let us in there if he thought it was dangerous?”

Harris looking older than his year. “Lucy. If I thought you were in any danger I would have taken you and Norm out of there.” Lucy stands there staring at him, anger subsiding at the honesty in his words. “No one. Not one of us. Thought you were in any danger there.”

Lucy swallows, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “Once you kids arrived, Tim didn’t share anything. I thought. I thought he was dealing with the loss of his sons. In his own way, never finding the bodies made him want to hold on to hope. So I let him. Then when he got the cancer diagnosis he brought me these boxes. Telling me to burn them once he was dead. That it would all be over, I didn’t know what he meant. But it was like a weight had finally been lifted off of him. ” Lucy shifts in her chair, unsure how to feel. “When your place got tossed I pulled them out, I read a few.” Harris shifts in his chair, staring at the boxes. “I don’t know what I was expecting but you should read them.”

“What is in them?” Lucy pushes, feeling like she is waiting for a bomb to go off. Her hold on the world was sliding, and she wasn’t sure if she would make it.

“Memories, stuff about your childhood. But also. Other stuff. Stuff I don’t know if I can believe.” Harris’s voice going soft. “I should have told you a long time ago and I am sorry for that. But maybe this will help, maybe put things to rest finally.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PART EIGHT

Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki , @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

*I am gonna say we are onto act 2... it's only gonna get darker from here < 3

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #86: Percy Jackson, but make it Time Travel

I was minding my own business at work this morning when a terrible, awful, wonderful idea for a PJO time travel fix-it hit me out of the blue.

Or: What if a deified Percy was sent back to the start of canon?

Just imagine it:

Percy wakes screaming, which is immediately disconcerting as he's not slept in nearly 100 years. He summons a storm practically out of reflex, still caught up in the horrors of everything he just left behind, and promptly passes out, his 12 year old body not used to the strain.

-because he is twelve again - mortal again, - in his bed at Yancy Academy again, a week out from the field trip that will change his life.

Not that Percy realizes this straight off, what with the panic and the passing out, though he does pick it up fairly quickly once he wakes up again in the school infirmary. This nearly sends him into another tailspin of panic - (he is small, he is weak, he is alone in his head, one hundred years in the past, and can barely feel any of his domains) - before Percy manages to get himself under control enough to come up with the basics of a plan: get somewhere safe so he can start figuring out what the Hades is going on.

Percy manages to sneak out of the infirmary while everyone else is at dinner, hails the Chariot of Damnation even though he's way out of their normal service area ("We'll put it on your tab, dearie," the seeresses say, "we know you're good for it."), and arrives at Camp Half-Blood just after midnight.

His entrance is much less spectacular than it was originally, but no less startling for all Mr D is the only one awake to see it, for the moment Percy crosses the ward lines the magic begins to recognize him as the future Camp Director - which in turn startles Dionysus just enough that he doesn't immediately smite Percy when he practically throws himself at the god and starts going on about how pleased he is to see him.

The truth comes out in fits and starts, with Percy's exhaustion (and Dionysus' gifts) being the only thing keeping him from another panic attack. His story boils down to this:

Percy has always been a powerful demigod, perhaps the most powerful child of his father ever to be born to a mortal. His actions from his first quest onward only pushed him closer to the brink of immortality. Divinity did not come until several months after the events of ToA, when a camper had jokingly raised a glass to Perseus Jackson, Trainer of Heroes, which was all that was needed to push him over that final precipice.

As Lord Perseus, he was from the onset more powerful than most minor gods, his domains being the eclectic mix of Heroes, Natural Disasters, and Misery - the first earning him the permanent position of Director of Camp Half-Blood and Patron of Camp Jupiter, the second keeping him quite busy in an era of climate change, and the last having been unwittingly stolen years before from Akhlys in Tartarus. It is this power that causes Zeus to become even more paranoid.

-which is saying something, as his paranoia had already skyrocketed to new and greater heights after Apollo returned improved from the events of ToA.

It grows worse over the better part of the next century, with the Titan War, Giant War, Triumvirate, and all that follows eventually disabusing the majority of the gods that Zeus will never be an effective ruler. Apollo leads a rebellion against his father - and would have succeeded, had not Zeus not managed to somehow push Apollo directly into Chaos as Apollo was preparing for his final blow, which has the unfortunate effect of the universe trying to unwrite one of the most important gods from the history of Western Civilization and undoes the fabric of reality in the process. Percy was watching it unravel before his eyes (desperately, desperately trying to weave it back together but it won't hold) when he suddenly found himself screaming 100 years in the past.

It is a fantastical story, but Dionysus has no choice to believe it.

("But why did you come to me? Why not your father?" Percy looks down, running a finger along the grain of of the wooden table, "We became friends in the future. Misery and alcohol, you know? One of the oldest pairings in the book." There's more, Dionysus can tell, but the boy is already flagging, unused to the weaknesses of his childish mortal body. It can wait.)

The events of canon proceed apace - or at least as much as they can when Percy shows up at camp almost two months early knowing more about the Greek and Roman pantheon than anyone who hasn't lived through it, with the attitude of a hero who's been through Tartarus and the power levels of a minor god burning him up from the inside. All while sneaking off in his spare time to 1) plot to stop the end of the world with Dionysus and 2) hang out with Dionysus, because he is one hundred twelve, thank you very much, and needs adult company every now and then, for all he’s missed his long dead friends.

I actually have no idea how the events of the books themselves would play out - Percy has neither the patience or the ability to let everything play out exactly as before, but the major beats of PJO still take place, with Percy doing his best to undermine the arguments that drew so many to Kronos as he can while still mortal. (Advocating for cabins for minor gods and/or undetermined, or combined housing with temples. Gods being forced to claim their children when they arrive at camp, etc.)

Perhaps Kronos tries harder to sway Percy to his side once he sees how strong a demigod he is, showing his hand too soon and causing the Titan War to be an all out war from the start of TTC until the Battle of Manhattan? Percy is more than just a child solider - he is a seasoned teenage general, directing battles, saving many with is experience but still loosing too many; a one-man army who eventually ascends on his sixteenth birthday, Luke's misery as he kills himself being the last push Percy needs to reclaim his divinity and his domains.

Gaining his godhood early allows Percy to temper the events of HOO and TOA (the Giant War still happens, but a generation later with a different set of demigods, and allows Zeus to redeem himself somewhat by being an effective war leader; Apollo never becomes mortal but the Triumvirate is destroyed a generation after that), if not prevent them. Though a part of him will always long for his mortality, it was never in the cards. It was either godhood or an early death, and Percy would rather spend an eternity protecting demigods and giving them the training they need to protect themselves than the alternative.

And so that's what Percy Jackson does, because that's what he's always done: accept as much misery for himself to make the lives of those he loves as misery-free as possible.

Bonuses include:

No hint of Percy/Annabeth in the new timeline, with the pair in the original having broken up shortly before Percy's ascension, having realize their codependency was not healthy, nor was it actually romantic love. From 100 years on, Percy is critical of his first relationship, but still counts Annabeth as one of his best friends, even if they're not as close in this timeline.

Although never widely disseminated, several individuals come to learn of Percy's trip through time and the circumstances that lead to it. (Poseidon, Sally, Thalia). A few others suspect Percy has some level of prophetic gift to go along with his other powers. But for the most part no one has any idea Percy is anything other than a powerful demigod with some really bad luck; and

It eventually coming out that Percy and Dionysus had a thing in the future, with Percy over the course of 100 years coming to like, respect, and eventually love the God of Wine. Percy is absolutely convinced it was entirely one-sided, their thing only adding up to a few drunken fucks between friends (because that's what Dionysus does with his friends), but Dionysus after he learns of it not being so sure (because it's really not what he does with friends and hasn't been for millennia). Whatever the case, it is exceptionally awkward when it comes out, especially as Percy's only physically 14 at the time, and attempting to resolve this awkwardness is how Thalia ends up learning about the time travel.

Extra bonus points if Percy and Ariadne were decent friends in the original timeline, become decent friends again in the new one, and settle into a polyamorous relationship with Dionysus (after Percy is deified and comes of age) that has Hera spitting teeth for decades.

And that is far, far more than I'd ever thought I'd have, but I think this plot bun somehow merged with a thread of an idea for a Dionysus-positive fic that's been tickling at me for years now. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you do anything with it.

More PJO Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

[andypantsx3]

do you have any tips or advice for being more confident about your writing / avoiding the comparison trap on here? /gen

Hello my love!! Oh my gosh, I have a zillion and one thoughts on this subject. Please excuse how disorganized this is but I am so happy to word vom at you lmao.

I think to start with, it depends on what you're comparing: whether it's the work itself or the metrics surrounding it! I will start with the work itself, and move on to talking about metrics if that's cool.

Your Story

In terms of the quality of your work, there are a couple key things to remember!! Firstly, think it's easy to feel like so many tropes and story lines have already been done, why would anyone want to read mine? But you can circumvent this quite intentionally in your writing by thinking about what new thing you can bring to that trope or story line. And make no mistake, there is always something new, whether it's a plot twist, a unique motivator, a different character's perspective, etc.

For example, I've read and loved several merman Shouto fics, and I also wanted to write a merman Shouto fic. In the development of something in the water, I sat down and thought about what things I'd read about merman Shouto before, and how could I add to that, outside of rehashing what I'd already read. I discovered I wanted to expand on mating rituals, spend some time on the cultural differences a human and merman would inevitably have, and linger in the feeling of a tropical island because at the time of the fic's conception it was like, the dead of my winter LOL. And I do think that something in the water has turned out pretty distinct for that effort; as far as I am aware no one has written merman Shouto being wheeled into a tropical bungalow in a wheelbarrow to watch The Little Mermaid lol.

So you can always bring something new to the table! And it will make your work feel standout to you, as well, as you will be very aware of all the things you did that were unique!! You will not feel like you're just rehashing something that has already been done, you will feel like you're adding!

Also in terms of quality, I think it's helpful to look at fic writing like a growth opportunity rather than a permanent, established skill set. The "quality" of your style is not fixed, it something you actively develop by reading, digging into other people's styles, seeing how they make their writing work, and trying out some of those elements for yourself. Maybe someone has a really rich descriptive style that you find beautiful, maybe someone writes dark psychological fics that thrill you; if you spend time looking at the words they are using and how they use them, you can replicate those techniques in your own writing. You can quite literally make your own writing look more like the writing you admire by reverse engineering authors' techniques.

Conversely, writing as a growth opportunity mean you do not have to be perfect. The process of writing is the process of figuring out what works, mechanically. It's not a reflection on you at all. You don't have to write anything "good," you can publish something you had fun with, see what people react positively to in it, and turn around and take those elements forward in your next story, while abandoning the things people maybe did not love or had questions on. And rinse and repeat over and over until you do end up with something you'd term "quality."

To me at least, that thought is a huge relief. Because I can just have fun, let people say what they say, and do something different in my next story if needs must. It's like any skill set, I think. It takes time to hone but no one would call, like, Van Gogh untalented because he once started with rough and heavy pencil sketches, right?

It's the knowledge that I'm building up my future self's skill set that gives me confidence to publish, even if I'm not quite where I want to be currently! And I really hope this helps you the way it does me; the knowledge that you can do anything, write like anyone, but that it's all part of an overarching process to learn to enjoy writing like you!

Which brings me to:

The Metrics

I am just going to say flat out that you should try to ignore metrics as best you can. In my experience, metrics are absolutely no indicator of a work's quality. Some of the work I am proudest of is what anyone would consider a "flop" by note count, whereas I think some of my most trite & banal works would be considered by some metric quite "popular." And I think that way about some of my favorite fics too, one of my absolute fave fics of all time only recently broke 100 kudos on ao3 after being up for years!!

I especially think this is true on tumblr, where a work's packaging and digestibility seem to be the key elements in gaining notes (ao3 does not allow the same level of customization). Fics with elaborate headers, cute & small fonts (I am guilty of loving these), and eye-catching graphics all naturally draw attention more easily in the sea of other fics, so it makes sense why more people would tend to look at those, and subsequently like or reblog them. I also think bullet-pointed headcanons or single/short paragraph works tend to skyrocket in notes here because they're quick and easy; and that makes sense too, right? If it's easier to read of course it's likelier to be read more!

But those things mean absolutely nothing about the quality of the work within. And you can take reassurance from the fact that you too can replicate those elements if note count is what you are truly after here! You can make a video header with any of the premades on Canva! You can try different font arrangements or cool graphics. You can even write a paragraph and tag it with a bunch of different characters for maximum exposure. There is no reason to get jealous, I think, if you can do it too!!

I also think you have to be conscious of different factors at play with authors. Some authors have been around since the inception of the fandom you're in, and naturally will have had more visibility for longer than you, but that also says nothing about the quality of their work. I've been around in the BNHA fandom for four years, and by a mixture of luck and timing ended up getting to publish a lot of my work during the pandemic when more people than ever were getting into BNHA. But does that make me better than some of the newer authors joining the fandom just now? HELL no lol, if anything maybe I could be getting complacent!

And this goes for the size of fandoms and the popularity of certain characters as well!! A Shouto fic is not going to do as well as a Bakugou fic because Bakugou has like, three times the stans. A Shinsou fic is not going to do as well as a Shouto fic because Shouto has like, five times the stans lol. And a Kaiju no. 8 fic is not going to do as well as a JJK fic because the fandom size (and therefore potential audience pool) has a significant discrepancy! Don't gauge your fic's success against someone else's in a different fandom or for a different character (or honestly even at a different point in the source material's storyline because sometimes a character has a moment where they are most popular but that drops off - think BNHA Hawks in 2020/2021 vs now lol).

There is a huge variety of external factors at play that determine your exposure and audience, but absolutely none of those can ever say anything about the quality of your work. So I hope you can try to distance yourself from the need to compare your metrics to anyone else's, because quite frankly they do not mean shit.

TLDR, think the best way to overcome the comparison trap is to write a story you love and feel is unique, something you are proud of. Because no one is ever going to tell a story quite how you would, and therefore no one can ever be compared. & I hope this was helpful and addressed whatever specific area of concern you have!! But let me know if not and I'm happy to discuss more!!

[gumbootillustrations]

i can fix him your honour *smacks him with the oc-ification hammer*

anyway. enjoy the babygirl-ification of aaron lycan. more stuff below the cut.

i love the idea of aaron. like, some guy whos hellbent on revenge learning to live and love outside of it?? and he finds not only love but a new home in someone else searching for the same thing after they've both lost so much??? UGH ITS SO GOOD. and then jesson fucking. fumbled it. SO BAD. im still mad abt it almost like. ten yrs later (how tf is diaries this old i swear it was still airing like last yr). so uh. ive tried to go in n fix him. i swear. but in the process a Lot of his backstory n stuff has been overhauled and im sorry to all the canon aaron truthers but the way that jesson handled his arc n stuff was God Awful and i hate it. so uh. yeah.

aaron shows up in ashes, ashes way earlier than he does in canon diaries - hes following the high priest's trail, and when he catches wind of him travelling to phoenix drop to officiate a wedding and track down his supposedly dead brother, he follows the rumours and shows up right after alexis is cursed. he forms a sort of truce with aph (although garroth is hesitant to trust him, given that he wants to murder his younger brother n garroth still believes that zane can be saved) and fucks off again until they meet up again when aph n co are snooping around pikoro trying to find lord luke so that she can sign a trade deal with him - aaron's (rightfully) convinced that zane has something to do with luke's disappearance, and once all that tomfoolery is settled, he decides to return to phoenix drop with aphmau, believing that the impending war will offer the best opportunity for him to finally kill zane.

as we all know, though, this... really doesn't go to plan. they get trapped in irene's cathedral - which is more of a labyrinth with religious imagery plastered everywhere - and it isn't aaron who lands the killing blow on his mortal enemy, but rather garroth, who gets possessed by esmund's relic. then, when they manage to escape thanks to zoey, ten years have passed and the cathedra of irene (the religious organisation that zane was in charge of as high priest) has all but collapsed. up until this point, all aaron has really been living for is destroying the cathedra, and with his job already done for him by the passage of time, he's now sort of... lost, is the best way i can really describe it. he decides to stick around in phoenix drop - although he doesn't really want to admit it, the people are nice, he's become friends with garroth and katelyn, and it's a safe place for him to stay while he figures out his next moves. it also doesn't help that aph keeps roping him into her adventures (although he secretly enjoys having something to do).

it's through these new connections that he learns to start opening up about his past; how he was raised as the heir to the lordship of a hunting town up north named falconclaw, how the cathedra ordered its destruction and the murder of all its people due to them allegedly being descended from shad, the destroyer, how he came back from a hunting trip to find all his family and friends dead, how the grief manifested in a long-dormant magick that causes anything he lays eyes on to disintegrate, only to be controlled by an enchanted blindfold given to him by a passing elf who took pity on him. over time, he learns to control his magick, leading to him starting to leave his blindfold off - a sort of symbol of his willingness to trust in others, and to trust himself around others. most of this is me wanting his fuckass bandanna to have some sort of meaning behind it outside of "uwu edgy man with edgy outfit" but uh yeah. idk.

anyway, after a while he decides to stick around permanently right before the gang heads to gal'ruk to track down carin valkrum, an ex-juror who went missing decades prior, who katelyn is convinced knows of the whereabouts of the keeper's relic.

which means an outfit change. i tried to make his second winter outfit noticeably lighter than his first one, but still incorporating his trademark reds and browns. there isn't too much else to say abt this outfit? i dont think?? like there isnt a ton of lore stuff tied up in it except "oh hes going to a cold place lol". uhh i guess i could mention that he has a fucked up knee from a hunting accident when he was younger, hence the wrapped up knee?? idk. also he has a lil brooch w a falcon claw on it as a sort of homage to falconclaw. and his fucked up eyes r a reference to his eyes being fucked up in mys. yeah. idk.

uhh casual outfit. i like to think that he asked laurance for help w finding something to wear that wasnt super casual for more formal events (like the monthly potluck dinners that phoenix drop holds for everyone to celebrate the new moon) bc garroth is fucking useless when it comes to clothes n katelyn isnt that much better so laurance, having grown up in meteli surrounded by pirates, threw a billowy white button down at him n told him to go ham. i think laurance also lowkey influences aaron to get the falcon tattoo at some point - i dont think he loses the brooch, but since its so obviously a reference to his birthplace in ru'aun and could potentially get him and the rest of the gang hurt or even killed once they decide to travel to tu'la, he decides to get the kārearea tattooed over his heart as an homage to his family. anyway, it's in tu'la where he learns that he isn't the only survivor of falconclaw as he had previously thought: the werewolf pack that he'd grown up alongside (blaze, dottie, maria, rylan, and daniel) are still alive and well, as is melissa, although she's been cursed w what will later become known as the "ultima" curse due to her striking a deal with the demon warlock in an attempt to restore falconclaw. anyway, it's pretty emotional, esp since both sides have long thought the other to be suuuper dead. the scars on aaron's forearm are from when he n blaze got into a tussle as kids.

and finally, his destroyer form! after katelyn finally kills ivy n recovers shad's relic, there's a lot of debate as to what to do with it; some folks think its best to find it a host, others want to try and destroy it, and others want to simply lock it away in a pocket dimensino or something to keep it safe. eventually, aaron decides that, in order to protect the family he's created and the family he's rediscovered, it's probably best for him to take on the mantle of the destroyer of the second war of the magi, especially once it's revealed that the aaron of the first war (shad) cleaved his soul in two once he began to get corrupted by the influence of the void - the half that was corrupted would become the shadow lord, whereas the uncorrupted half would go onto reincarnate like the other souls of the divine warriors (excluding irene). i'm still fiddling around w how the second war of the magi ends, but my thinking as of right now is that the first war ended with irene burning away her first physical form to seal the shadow lord in the nether, the second war (mcd) ending w the restoration n reunification of shads soul n the divine warriors sealing away most magicks as a temporary stopgap against the spread of the void, and the third war (mys) being the war in which the void is finally defeated.

and finally some headshots. i personally headcanon aaron as being autistic as fuck n being the kind of autistic where he isn't super expressive (sorta like garroth), although a little less stern. speaking of, i really wanted him n garroth to be sort of foils for each other: namely, where aaron was raised to only ever see lordship as a privilege, garroth was raised in an environment that led him to believe that lordship was only ever a burden. anyway, they're best mates n i will die on this hill. yeah i know that in the first war esmund n shad didnt like each other that much (as an understatement) but something something healing the wrongs of the past with each reincarnation cycle something something they're best friends now and you can't stop me. also he and aph do end up together but it takes sooo fucking long, like those two are the most awkward motherfuckers this side of ru'aun and it takes longer for them to confess than it does for garroth and laurance to confess and thats Saying Something. like. c'mon. it was stupidly out of character for this wet noodle of a man to hook up w aph in the middle of s2. tell me that u don't know how to write ur characters without telling me that u don't know how to write ur characters n all that jazz.

anyway. gumboot rambles once again. its 2am at the time of posting this n i need to go sleep so uh. yeah. dante or travis is up next mostly bc aph has like thirteen outfit changes before s3 n im dreading drawing them all so yeah.

feel free to ask any questions or anything!! :D

[yawntutsyip]

Warnings: none

AN: I felt bad that I deleted this story 😭, I lost all motivation for writing it and I didn’t realize that people actually liked it 🙏😔 forgive me. I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m gonna do for the plot so I think I came up with something I like so hopefully it will go good. I also fixed some grammar mistakes and spelling errors so hopefully it’s all good now mb if there still some

Context: Your father had fallen sick causing you and your mother, along with your father, to move villages. Needing help from the Tsahìk. Ronal discovers that you were interested in learning about herbs and healing she began to take you under he wing teaching you everything she knew as if you were the Tsahìk in training. After she and Tonowari learns that you haven't been able to make friends thought the years you've been in the village she (forces) suggest that you hang out with Ao'nung and his friends hopping that will help.

Ngaytxoa: Sorry , Apologies

Nari si skxawng: watch out moron

Za'u : come here

Kaltxi sa'nu, sempul : Hello mother, father

'itetsyìp : a name for daughter

Mawey: calm down

Irayo: thank you, thanks

Fnu: be quiet

I see you | Chapter One

As (Y/N) grew up she could tell something was wrong with her father, Every week it seemed that he had gotten weaker and weaker.

It had gotten so bad he eventually was on permanent bed rest having to be cared for by her mother at all times.

Having such a close bond with her parents she never left their side unless she had to run an errand for her mother.

Through the years of being by her mother's side and the frequent healers that could come and help, she began to study and learn from them

Taking mental notes and practicing in her own time she learned what things mixed with what, and what you should and shouldn’t use.

It was the only thing that kept the little girl's mind off of the terrible situation.

As time continued to pass, on (Y/N)’s 12th birthday just when it had seemed like everything was getting better and her father had seemed like he was healing just fine

It seemed to immediately shoot back down and he had fallen ill once again now even worse.

His body turned immune to the medicine that he was given.

The girl's mother was deeply frustrated and in pain from seeing her mate in this state.

Her mother began to shut down, hardly talking to anyone and never leaving her mate's side. Focused on one thing which was taking care of her mate, making sure he was getting the help he needed.

When (Y/N) tried talking with her mother she would only reply in short responses. It hurt the poor girl, she now finds herself wishing she had a mother again.

Soon enough the healers decide to talk your mom into traveling to the nearby village where they had more healers and the Tsahik that was able to see what was exactly going on.

It did not take long for your mother to decide on an answer and immediately began packing up bags. (Y/N) could not complain and only helped her mom pack.

Traveling to the village took about a day and by the time the family arrived in Awa’atlu, it was night.

The only light sources were the torches that were scattered around the Marui huts, the bioluminescent plants in the water, and the bright stars that were shining above.

(Y/N) was swimming on an ilu next to her mother who was on her skimwing with your father laid in front of her.

When they had come into the village's view, a loud horn reached their ears announcing their arrival as they continued to move closer.

Finally, they reached the land and immediately her father was carried away by some men, which (Y/N) would assume they were taking him to the healing hut. Her mother quickly followed shortly leaving (Y/N) all by herself.

The little girl stood there unsure of what to do, her mother and father were out of view so there was no way she would be able to find them without getting lost, this village was much bigger than her previous one.

Tears begin to cloud over her eyes piling up, threatening to spill down her aqua cheeks.

This whole journey she tried to put a strong face for her mother and father, she knew they were already dealing with a lot and didn’t want to worry them.

But once her parents were out of sight, that wall that she so bravely built up slowly began to break down.

Tears were now sliding down her face as they dropped into the sand below.

A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder. (Y/N) looked up and with her blurry view she could make out a woman in front of her slowly crouching down.

The woman’s hands move from the girl's shoulder to caressing her cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe the tears that slipped out.

“Hello my child, please do not be sad. Your father is in good care now.” The woman’s words reassured (Y/N). “I am the Tsahik, may I know your name sweetheart?” Ronal asked the small child in a soft voice, afraid of startling her.

“(Y/N)... (Y/N) te Ftxey Aman’ite, Tsahik” She replies shyly with quiet sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

“(Y/N), You have a beautiful name..Let's grab your bags and I will walk you to new Marui. It’ll be close to the healing hut so you can see your parents then.

Ronal smiled and stood up grabbing the bags that were sitting in the sand. Ronal swung some of the bags over her shoulder and then looked back at (Y/N) who was doing the same actions.

Ronal reaches her hand out to the little girl, (Y/N) hesitated at first, I mean after all this was a stranger, but then grabbed the Tsahik’s hand, and they began to walk further from the water and into the village.

“You will like it here, I promise”

"Ngaytxoa Tsahìk!" You said to the older woman once you had arrived in the healing pod where there stayed your father along with some other injured and sick members that the healers were helping with.

On the way to the pod one of the aunties had asked you for help with carrying a basket of dried kelp for weaving and it took a little longer than you thought.

"It's alright (Y/N), as long as you're here now. I have a list of herbs I need you to collect for me really quick and then we began the lessons" Ronal said as she was finishing wrapping a younger boys arm then proceeds to grab a list off the table handing it out to you.

"Of course, I will be back shortly!" You say smiling, grabbing the list before leaving the pod.

You began to walk down the paths to collect herbs from where ever they stay. Some were different fruit and roots where you had to scavenge for and others were stuff you could get from different farmers around the island.

Once you finished you waved bye to the farmers with your filled basket you had been carrying, having all the herbs from Ronal's list in it, making your way back to the Tsahìk.

On your way back you stop for a second as you watched some of the Metkayina girls the same age hanging out together, some were braiding each others hair while others were talking probably gossiping about the newest drama that had rumored around the village.

You let out a sigh with a small frown.

You wanted to make friends but it was as if they avoided you like you were the plague.

You hung out with Tsireya a couple times but her other friends always pulled her away from you or Tsireya was busy taking her own lessons from her mother so you guys never had an actual hang out without someone coming to interrupt.

Shrugging off the sad feeling that began to rise, you begin to continue your way back.

As you were about to walk in the pod you accidentally runs into someone almost falling back at the impact.

Catching yourself, you stands straight and looks at the person you ran into about to apologize before your eyes widen as you realizes who it was.

It was one of the girls who Tsireya was always hanging out with.

"Ngaytxoa.. I didn't see you there." You say say embarrassed and looks down as if the ground was the most fascinating thing.

The girl could only scoff in annoyance and roll her eyes not bothering to pay attention to you before walking off muttering some words that you just barley heard purposely hitting your shoulder with hers.

"nari si skxawng"

You could only brush it off and continue to walk inside.

"Tsahìk I'm back! I have all the stuff you asked for." You announced as you pushes past the door to the table about to set down the basket.

"za'u (Y/N), with the basket" Ronal motioned as she was sat down on a mat with Mortar and pestle in front of her along with some water.

Turning back around you follow the orders and sets the basket down by the Tsahìk before sitting in front of her.

"Let's get to work shall we?" You could only nod her head and with that Ronal began to teach you.

"Alright, thats enough for today. Did you understand everything?" The older woman asked while standing up with the new paste you both had just made in a bowl

"Yes, thank you for teaching me" you say responding before helping Ronal clean up.

"Do you want me to walk with you back to your Marui?"

"No, I'm gonna stay here for a little bit. Thank you." And with that Ronal nodded as her eyes softened with her smile faltering before leaving the healing pod back her to own Marui.

You let out a weary sigh before walking to the back of the pod to a more secluded area where he father stayed.

"Kaltxi sa'nu, sempul" You greet your parents knowing you wouldn't get a response back, only a small nod of acknowledgment from your mother who had her back towards you while laying a new cloth on your fathers forehead.

"how is he doing?" You crouch down next to your mother sitting on your knees as you observe.

After a long pause of quietness, your mother finally spoke up looking at her daughter.

"he's getting better now, thanks to you and the Tsahìks help" Aman (her mothers name) spoke to her daughter as she reaches forward and brushes a stray hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek.

You could only lean into your mothers touch.

Aman had gotten better at talking to her daughter again after the Tsahìk had scolded her for not paying attention, neglecting, her own child. She needs a reality check.

"It's getting late, you should head back to our Marui" Aman spoke to you bringing back her hand before checking on her mate once again.

"Will you be coming back with me this time? You asked with hope in your eyes that her mother would finally come home for once but once yoy looked at your mothers face with a sadden expression, you knew it wasn't going to happen.

"I'm sorry 'itetsyìp. Not tonight.."

You say nothing and nod. You got up and gave your parents both a quick peck on the cheek before leaving making your way back to your family's Marui.

You could feel tears fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall wiping them with the back of your hand letting out a shaky sigh.

Before you reached the Marui a hand landed on your shoulder startling you causing you to jump letting out a quiet yet loud shriek.

"Woah, mawey (Y/N)!" A familiar female voice said as you turned around to see Tsireya.

"Sorry for startling you, my mother asked me to grab you to have dinner with us! My father and Ao'nung had caught some extra fish and we can't eat it all~ come on" Tsireya said while grabbing your arm locking it with hers not waiting for an answer before pulling you in the direction of their Marui pod.

The two girls reach the pod and Tsireya walks in holding the door open for (Y/N) to walk in.

You mutters a quiet thank you giving the girl a smile before greeting everyone that was now sitting down getting ready to eat.

"Irayo Tsahìk, Olo'eyktan for having me over."

"No worries (Y/N) come in sit down next to Ao'nung" Ronal says smiling before telling Ao'nung to scoot over to make more room to which he only rolled his eyes before moving.

You sit down and everyone began to eat while the family made small talk with eachother while you just stayed quiet listening, only talking if they asked for an opinion or a question.

While eating you swear you could feel a burning gaze watching you, when you lifted your head and turn you meet Ao'nung's eyes staying back into yours.

Waiting for his eyes to pull away he never did and continued to stare, with what look in his eye? You couldn't exactly tell but you swore there was an extra sparkle.

Finally getting the hint he wasn't going to back down you quickly look away with blush creeping on your cheeks and continue to eat.

"(Y/N) have you been making any friends, you know the girls that Tsireya hangs out with?" Ronal asks looking at her causing all of them to go quiet and listen.

"Uh...well..not exactly...I guess they are always busy when I try and hang out with them.." you says now playing with your food in awkwardness.

"What? Tsireya I thought I told you to take in (Y/N) and make sure she was not being left out" Ronal questions her daughter in disappointment.

"Well...Ngaytxoa sa'nu...I thought they were hanging out with (Y/N). Ngaytxoa (Y/N)" Tsireya frowns upset that her friends weren't being nice to you.

"It's alright, I don't really need to hang out with them anyways I'm good with just hanging around with you Tsahìk" you could only smile reassuring the family theses no need to worry.

"Nonsense! (Y/N) you are still a kid. As much as I like having your company You need to go hang out with people your own age sometimes." Ronal replies to you.

"Why don't you hang out with Ao'nung and Rotxo! Rotxo is a good boy. Very respectful and I'm sure Ao'nung would be happy to have you hang out with him, right Ao'nung?!" Tonowari speaks up looking at Ao'nung.

Ao'nung's mouth is open astonished that his father even suggested that. "What? Why does she have to-"

Before he could finish his sentence his mother interrupts him with a harsh glare making him immediately shut up.

"Right Ao'nung?" Ronal says smiling yet still glaring at the poor boy who could only nervously avoid his mothers fiery gaze.

"Yes. She can hang out with us tomorrow..." he grumbles out shoving the last bit of food in his mouth no longer paying attention to the conversation that was going on.

"See (Y/N) there you go, You have some people to hang out with." You could only smile with a nod before going back to eating.

A little bit later everyone was finally done eating you began to help Tsireya clean up the plates.

"(Y/N) you don't have to help Tsireya. Ao'nung will walk you to your Marui" Tonowari told you with a hand on your shoulder grabbing the dishes that were in her hands.

"Oh no it's alright-" (Y/N) began to speak but was cut off with Ronal shaking her head telling you no before pushing you toward the door where Ao'nung stood muttering words under his breath that you couldn't make out.

"Okay then...goodnight, thank you for having me over for dinner" You smiled waving bye to them as you exits the Marui with Ao'nung following behind.

You and Ao'nung walk to your Marui in silence.

While you were in your own world thinking to yourself , you didn't notice a certain boys eyes on you.

Ao'nung couldn't help it, He found the Metkayina girl beautiful. But the boys ego was too high for him to talk to you and confess his attraction.

He could only play it off with being annoyed. I mean it sorta annoyed him. He never had a full conversation or even looked at you straight in the eyes..So why was he attracted to you so much. It made him frustrated.

He remembered the first time seeing you was when he got in an argument with another Metkayina boy that resulted in flying fist and so there he sat with a bloody lip and a cut on his cheek.

And out of all the healers he gotten (Y/N) to patch him up. The whole time she was making the paste she never said a word and he was thankful because the last thing he needed was another person asking what happened.

When it came to the girl applying the paste all he could think about was how her soft hands gently applied it to his cheek muttering apologies as he hissed from the sting.

But if he was being honest the butterflies in his stomach distracted him more.

He didn't realize until she was done that he had been admiring her face. Staring mostly at her darker aqua marking that were scattered framing your face, and the bioluminescent freckles sprinkled all over. How her hair was done in traditional Metkayina style (picture whatever you like) and it complemented her well.

Ao'nung snaps out of his thoughts and comes to a halt as you both stand in front of your empty Marui.

"Thank you, I'm sorry for causing you trouble.. I can just say that I'm busy tomorrow so I don't have to hang out with you" You say thanking him as you shyly stare at the ground.

While Ao'nung wanted to tell you 'no don't be! I actually want to hang out with you and get to know you' before he could think, all that came out was a

"Fnu" Ao'nung shouted and it came out a lot harsher than he meant. His eyes slightly widen with his ears lowering in embarrassment.

It made you jump a little taken back from how harsh his words came at you.

"Ngaytxoa. I'll see you tomorrow." Ao'nung said, this time in a softer voice. And with that he quickly walked away back to his Marui pod and you enter yours.

Yet another sigh of disappointment left your lips as you rub your face in frustration.

'Alone once again..'

[apomaro-mellow]

Guitar!Steve 1

“You already had me, you know.” Sweetheart reached out and grabbed Eddie's hand, turning it over in his own. "I can't believe I get to touch you now, instead of the other way around."

It took Eddie a moment to find his voice. "W-well believe it, gorgeous."

And damn if it didn't look like he was preening under Eddie's praise. Okay, he had to come up with a plan. Strategize. Figure out what's what. And do so with a clear head. Eddie pulled Sweetheart along back to the bedroom and shut the door.

He sat Sweetheart down on the bed and tossed the blanket over his lap to keep him decent.

"Alright, so I made a wish on this rock", Eddie took it out of his pocket again. "And you came to be."

Sweetheart nodded.

"This is some INCrediBLE magic. Like you have no idea how much this is blowing my mind", Eddie said as he paced about in front of the bed. "But also, the laws of the universe dictate that something like this can't be permanent. Not unless we do something to seal it. If...if that's what you want."

"If I stay human, there's more that I can do...but if I'm not your guitar then..."

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?", Eddie asked when he saw how heartbroken the other was.

"You won't be able to hold me like you used to."

"No", Eddie said as he sat down on the bed next to him. "But I can hold you the way I'd hold another human." He put an arm around the man's shoulders.

Their faces were so much closer and Eddie found it frighteningly easy to get lose in those dark brown eyes or get distracted by every mole, or even appreciating the slope of his eyebrows. Jesus, did wishing stones just have male models on reserve?

"I'll miss the way your hands played me." He grabbed Eddie's hand again, then rubbed it on his face and neck. “I love your fingers. They always know how to touch me just right.”

Eddie didn’t know how many times his brain could melt before it was literal goop, but this guy seemed intent on doing so.

“You can’t just-just say things like that.”

He smiled, like he knew just what he was doing to Eddie. "Show me?"

"Hm?"

"Show me how humans touch. You've made a lot of music with me. I think I know what you want."

Everything about this man was a dream come true. And Eddie just couldn't help himself.

"I think you know exactly what I want."

Eddie kissed him hesitant at first just in case he was reading this wrong but his sweet Sweetheart kissed back eagerly. And as strange as it sounded, Eddie did know right where to touch him.

His hands dug into his hair, soft tresses that he could touch forever. His Sweetheart let out a soft moan as his scalp was massaged. Something deep and warm that reminded Eddie of how he sounded during a warm up.

Eddie kissed down his neck, feeling the vibrations with every sound he let out. It hit him then that he was about to fuck his guitar. He was really about to fuck his guitar.

"More~"

The breathy sigh knocked Eddie from his thoughts. No, right now Sweetheart was more than just an instrument. His wish had turned him into something greater.

Eddie obeyed his request, his lips trailing across his collarbone. Eddie pushed him down onto the bed and got on top of him. The blanket fell away from his lap and Eddie got a real sense of the difference between them. Him, fully clothed while his Sweetheart was completely bare. It made him feel...made him feel...

"Eddie", his Sweetheart moaned as he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for another bruising kiss. His hips started to rut up towards his.

Eddie broke the kiss and let out a gasp, his head falling onto Sweetheart's shoulder. "Fuck."

"Hurts", his baby whimpered.

Eddie opened his eyes long enough to realize that his poor baby was grinding against his jeans.

"'Course it hurts, Sweetheart. Let's fix that." Eddie sat up to open his pants, letting out a sigh and then immediately biting back a groan when he saw the other's face.

Eddie had hooked up before but never had someone looked so...enraptured with him.

"Keep touching me", Sweetheart whined.

"So high maintenance, baby." Eddie pushed his briefs down just enough to free his cock. He knew that about his baby already though. He always took longer than necessary to warm up or restring him. "I think I've spoiled you."

And by the stars, he gave the most heart-stopping pout. Eddie tossed out any bravado or hesitation. He pressed their bodies fully together and kissed him like he was the air he needed. Eddie pushed his hips down and they both moaned into each other's mouths at the friction.

"Eddie, Eddie..."

His Sweetheart was a natural, undulating his body, giving back what he got, trying to cross the finish line. He reached up into Eddie's hair, his other hand going under Eddie's shirt to claw at his back.

"I finally get to touch you", he whispered, sounding almost reverent.

And if that didn't do something to Eddie's ego. He already felt like a god whenever he was deep in the zone. Here this beautiful angel was, looking at him with such desire. Eddie wanted to give him everything he asked for. Starting with his first orgasm.

Eddie could feel both hands getting tighter, both in his hair and on his back. His baby was almost over the edge. Sweetheart wrapped his legs around Eddie's waist, clamping down hard as he came. His moan was so loud and pornographic, Eddie would've thought he was faking if he was a normal guy.

Being squeezed in more than one way, it didn't take Eddie long to follow, sweat beading up between them and he was sure it was running down his back.

Sweetheart's hands were on Eddie's face now, giving him soft but weak kisses like he just couldn't get enough. Eddie was tempted to do the same and spend the night doing so. But tomorrow they had to get answers.

"Let's get some sleep now, darlin'. Me and my beautiful lips will be here in the morning."

"Promise?", Sweetheart asked through a yawn.

"Promise."

Part 3

[lankayu]

sanuso worms in my brainnnn😵‍💫 welcome to sanji’s struggle of being in love for the first time and not quite knowing how to go about confessions

i am a firm believer of sanji being in denial from little garden to water 7. after usopp returns to the crew, sanji finally comes to terms with his feelings for usopp as that gaping hole in his chest is filled by his presence — and following the acceptance comes the unbearable tension when he’s around the sniper. nothing has changed between them; sanji still respects usopp as the brave talented sniper he is…in fact, they’re even closer after the battle at enies lobby. sanji argued that it made the matter of his intensifying crush worse. but of course, the awkwardness was all in his head and it was his fault he couldn’t act normal around usopp or talk like they used to

but he misses talking to him. he couldn’t stand the thought of usopp permanently leaving the crew and never getting the chance to see him again. and now usopp is here, sailing alongside them, as things should be. he misses him so much so pulls himself out of his head and musters the courage to make a decision; he’ll tell usopp how he feels. it’ll fix whatever’s going on with him hopefully, because he’s been swatting these thoughts away like flies for months now but he can’t deny any longer how much more than a friend he wants to be to the sharpshooter. the only problem is that he can’t quite figure out how to tell him

sanji remembers that sunset at water 7, that bridge, where he had overheard usopp rehearsing stupid scenarios to get the straw hats to take him back (he still cant quite place why he had stuck around to listen to the idiotic display) and it gives him an idea. next thing he knows he finds himself pacing back and forth in the kitchen, rehearsing different scenarios of “the big moment.” he doesn’t want to come off as a sap, but he also doesn’t want to play it casual because he needs it to be special. this could either completely ruin them or complete them and sanji couldn’t fuck it up

after writing out a declaration of love on a piece of paper and practicing said declaration out loud and probably getting walked in on a few times by the sunny’s local food thief (luffy) he decides this rehearsing stuff is stupid and usopp is an idiot for doing silly stuff like this and why the hell did he even try something so ridiculous and fuck it all, he was just going to wait until the right moment because that’s maybe the most romantic way to go about it (even if it means this’ll take 5 more months)

there’d definitely be multiple instances where sanji has the perfect opportunity and tries to tell usopp before immediately backing out, muttering serious “it’s nothing” “nevermind” ‘s and whatnot, leaving usopp dumbfounded everytime. but he already sorta knows (more so just has his suspicions and mutual feelings to return) so he decides he’ll let the cook figure things out on his own until he’s ready. because knowing sanji, he’s probably going through an identity crisis because of him…usopp does feel the slightest bit bad that someone like him has put sanji in such a dilemma

I think the moment that the confession leaves sanji’s mouth would be the most inconvenient moment possible. possibly…. in the middle of battle, when they’re both pumping with adrenaline. possibly when usopp snipes an enemy that was just about to slice a distracted sanji in half — and the cook is so pathetically head over heels at this point, his bottled up love and the overwhelming feeling of admiration in his chest overflowing all at once, he just outright blurts out “i love you” when usopp asks if he’s okay and he doesn’t even realize what’s been said and done until usopp is cheekily smiling at him, saying something along the lines of “i know”

sanji doesn’t even get a chance to process what just happened in the span of 10 seconds before he’s forced back into battle, another wave of opponents storming the battlefield. he’ll have to deal with it later

[obscuregenderenvy]

No Man (But You): Additional scene

Peter had had a long day, and if he was honest with himself he did not want to patrol later. He was so tired he didn't even notice the person occupying his couch when he got home, or the fact that the door that was broken only last night was now fixed perfectly.

He actually has his shirt half over his head and covering his eyes before the intruder makes himself known.

A wolf whistle and a shout.

"Woo! Petey I didn't know you were shredded under that nerdy little outfit!" Wade, his neighbor, was apparently in his apartment.

Peter quickly shoves his shirt back down to cover himself, face red in embarrassment and anger.

"Wade!?" Peter's glare could level cities, but Wade just laughs and lounges back further into Peter's couch. "What are you doing here?"

"I broke the door, I fixed the door." Wade's smile is contagious even with how dead on his feet Peter is.

"Oh- I... Thank you." Peter doesn't know what else to say so they just stare in silence for a moment.

In that moment Peter realizes he's probably not getting a choice in going on patrol or not because Wade is very hard to get rid of normally but after last night he doubts Wade will accept any reason Peter would give for him to leave. His head throbs and an aura forms in the corners of his vision. He tries to adjust glasses that he hasn't needed since the spider bite, managing to just poke himself between his eyes.

"Mhmm, now would you please sit down before you pass out." Wade's voice is suddenly serious and Peter watches the world fisheye for a second before Wade is snatching him by the arm and pulling him towards the couch.

Peter lands roughly, his face pressed into the thread bare pillows that line his couch and one leg twisted oddly.

"Hey!" His protest is eaten by the couch, he lifts his head and glares at Wade.

"You were going ghost Danny," Wade jokes then looks at Peter with full seriousness. "When did you eat last?"

"Uh? I definitely had breakfast." Peter thinks he did at least.

"I doubt you had one good enough to make up for the blood loss. Which I cleaned up that stain, and the others. Which I would love an explanation on that seemed like a lotta blood Bambi." Wade's rambling just picks up as Peter walks away from him, his plan is to search through the kitchen and try to come up with a plan.

He needs to find a way to cancel on Deadpool without Wade seeing him. Keeping his secret identity is going to be an issue if Wade decides to be a permanent fixture in his life. Even though his intentions are sweet, he doesn't realize how much of a problem he's being for Peter.

"Hello! Earth to Peter? Calling Moon Man!" Wade's voice breaks through the whirlwind thoughts.

"Huh?" Peter stops and turns to look at Wade.

"I said I ordered a pizza, figured you'd be back by now." Wade frowns and waves a hand at Peter, gesturing come here. With out thinking Peter returns to the couch.

Wade grabs his arm again but the pull is expected and more gentle this time. Peter allows his neighbor (friend?) to pull him down next to him. Wade casually drapes an arm over his shoulders and knocks their heads together softly.

"So brown eyes, let's watch a movie while we wait!" Wade acts like they do this all the time, like Peter knew he would be here and have food on the way.

It's too much for his tired brain, so he just goes with it. He lets Wade prattle on about nothing while looking through his DVD collection until the knock on the door signals the pizza's arrival.

Wade insists on Star Wars so they watch that while they eat, eventually Wade gets up to use the bathroom and Peter uses that moment to use Spider-Man's phone to text Deadpool that he's staying in tonight. Only to see he already received a text from DP already saying the same thing. Well he actually said something far more vulgar than Peter would have but whatever.

By the time they finish the movie Peter is over tired and almost loopy from it. When he felt it coming on he tried to kick Wade out but it didn't work. Wade just amped up the jokes. When Peter tried to wrestle him off the couch he ended up in a head lock he would need Spider Strength to get out of so he relented and let Wade put on the next movie.

They settle back in and Peter doesn't mean to but he ends up with his head resting on Wade's shoulder. The weirdly familiar smell of gunpowder and leather soothing him in a way he can't even admit to himself. The last coherent thought he has before falling asleep on Wade's shoulder is that he should go to bed but that Wade was so warm and so comfortable.

When he wakes up in bed in the morning still wearing his clothes from the day before he's confused for a long time until he gets a vague memory of Wade carrying him to bed and then leaving last night. He was surprised the other man was willing to care for him like that. It has been a long long time since Peter had someone tuck him into bed sleeping.

He's thinking it over when there's the sound of a key in his door, that sends him shooting out of bed and grabbing his baseball bat in seconds. He sets his feet and ignores the twinge in his arm from his slash wound.

When the door finally swings open to reveal Wade standing there, key in hand, looking at least somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh, you're up!" Wade's moment of guilt is quickly washed away with a smirk.

"Why do you have a key?" Peter lowers the bat but doesn't put it away. This guy can say all the right things all he wants. He can tuck Peter into bed or whatever, but he's drawing a line here- so help him.

"I figured it would save me from shelling out for another door in the future pretty boy. But if property damage is your thing who am I to deprive you!" Wade wags his hairless eyebrows at Peter. Startling a laugh from deep in his chest.

"Why would you need to break my door down again?" Peter switches the bat from hand to hand, the pros and cons of letting this happen screaming through his still groggy brain.

"I won't. I have a key now," he continues to grin at Peter.

"Knock first."

"Never gonna happen." Wade finally enters the apartment. "But I can respect the deadbolt."

Peter eyes the other man carefully. It's not like Peter couldn't handle him if he needed to, it's just the whole secret identity thing that makes this not okay. For some reason he does trust Wade. A little at least.

"C'mon Parker I swear it's just for emergencies. What if you get locked out!"

"You'll respect the deadbolt?" He's so hesitant about this, but his Spidey Senses remain quiet so this can't be too bad an idea. Right?

"At first!" Wade holds a hand up like a boy scout swear, but he crosses his fingers and smiles. Peter just narrows his eyes before placing the bat back in its not hiding place.

[immortalmsmoon]

Hello 👋🏽 Nice blog you got here!

May I please request headcanons for Joker, Akechi, and Ann reacting to their female S/O asking them to change her aunt’s heart after she shows anger and bitterness towards the family, snapping during a party which terrifies the S/O?

Phantom Thieving

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! i am so sorry this took so long, i've had a lot of school work to do and i have been INSANLY busy. i'll try to get these next requests out as fast as i can.

Warnings: mentions of Killing In akechi's (very brief), talk of an Aunt that yells at Y/n

Word Count: 679

Akira Kurusu~

Angry to say the least

not the type to verbally or physically show that anger in anyway though, you you probably won't figure out he's angry at your Aunt

VERY eager to change the heart of your aunt.

you mean the world to him, so the fact that someone treated you with such disrespect has him seething.

when he's not Phantom Thieving, he's making sure to give you attention and affection, and is always pretty carful not to yell around you regardless of what the situation might be

sometimes even goes as far as to make sure his friends don't yell around you

Akira did not have a short temper, and it took a lot to truly make him angry.

Somehow your aunt had turned the usually cool headed teenager into one filled with one filled with anger to say the least.

He had been hesitant at first. Changing a person's heart was a permanent thing, and he didn't want you to make the decision just because you were angry. But as soon as you told him the story as to why you felt your dear Aunts heart should be changed, he was eager and ready to do it.

he put it at the top of his priority list. he ignored most of his other memento requests, instead deciding that the specific request you had given him was the most important thing in the world.

He made sure check up on you as the change of heart was in progress, taking you out around town, and making you coffee so you could have a break from your family. he new the best thing for you would be to take your mind off the situation until it was resolved.

Goro Akechi~

Not typically one to change hearts, but he's willing to do it for you

his anger is a lot more visible, especially when he sees how much it scared you

as soon as you tell him the story, he is making comments.

"How could your Aunt do that to you?" "Your aunt is obviously the problem here." "She sounds like a real pain"

it takes a lot to hold back when confronting your aunt, especially because killing people is basically muscle memory for him, but thinking of you keeps him in line

It wasn't often you came to Goro in tears. And every time you did he dreaded it.

In his eyes you were so perfect. the Personification of joy and happiness and love, and it made no sense to him that anyone could ever yell at you.

when he found out what your Aunt had done he could feel anger coursing through him like blood.

He was delicate with you as he held you, making sure not to scare you anymore than you already were.

Of course he wanted to help you. but helping others wasn't something he was particularly good at. He would try his hardest anyway, if it meant he could hear you laugh, see you smile.

He would do anything to make you happy.

Ann Takamaki~

She understands exactly how your feeling.

she had been yelled at the same way as you, and it made her angry that someone as kind and loving as you had to experience that.

quick to tell Akira of your situation, and really presses on the Phantom Thieves about fulfilling your request.

She takes you out on crepe dates and invites you to come to her modelling sessions so you can take your mind off of the situation until its fixed.

As soon as Ann heard your story, her once present smile faded.

First Shiho, and now you? it broke her heart.

She held you close for a second, her eyes welling up. She quickly wiped them away, before letting you go. this time she would be strong enough to protect you. and that was a promise.

it seemed like all the people around her lately were sad. she new she needed to fix the situation. She sent Akira a quick text, explaining your situation, before asking to take you out for crepes.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! I love your blog so so much 💙

Anyways, I was thinking about the ROR fam have child reader suddenly go missing under mysterious circumstances (you choose how) and years later, reader returns and confronts the fam about not saving them all those years ago; like they had given up on reader or something. Maybe even have reader have a permanent scar? I want angst but you can also choose how it ends.

I hope you have an amazing week, and remember to take care of yourself first!

You guys sure like your angst :3

-It started years ago, when you were only a child, when you disappeared. Nobody could find you; the search went on for weeks- months even, but you were never found. It was like you vanished.

-Your massive family, who had adopted you only a year prior, were the ones who refused to give up, even several years after, constantly asking around for you, putting up posters, wanting to find you.

-But as each year passed, their hope dwindled, it seemed impossible.

-Then the impossible happened, a phone call to your family, from the police station, telling them that you had been found- it sounded like a dream- like it couldn’t be true.

-Your family rushed to the police station, hoping this wasn’t a dream and that you were really there!

-When they burst in, there you sat, now several years old, being a teenager, fourteen or fifteen now, with a large scar running across your left eye down your cheek in a diagonal direction.

-While your family seemed elated to see you, you stood, not letting them get close to you, stepping behind the police chief, who looked just as distraught.

-Your family was stunned by your actions, Adam speaking, “Y/N- what- what happened?” your voice was like venom and ice all at the same time as you glared, “Why do you care?”

-Your anger was stunning, like they couldn’t believe it- why were you so angry?!

-You saw their faces and your eyes narrowed, “This guy has been telling me you looked for years for me- but did you? Did you really?”

-Several of them were quick to tell you this was true, that they spent years looking for you, but your eyes just narrowed even more in anger, “Bullshit!”

-The chief put his hand on your head, telling you to calm down as your family was trying to figure out why you were so angry- you were finally home!!

-The police chief was the one who spoke next, “Don’t blame Y/N for their anger- they have every right to be angry.” Hades glared harshly, demanding to know what he meant. The chief honestly looked embarrassed as he sighed, looking back at you, “Y/N was… Y/N was found nearby, under Old Man Jenkin’s farm- he had them locked in a cellar for the past several years. He had it in his head he was protecting a child from the aliens and dark forces of the world. And he believed the search parties were going to sacrifice Y/N to them.”

-Hearing this did not make anything better- that farm was literally only four miles from your home- you were so close this whole time and none of them ever realized it!!

-It was no wonder you were so pissed, you were right there all these years, being put through who knows what kind of mental and emotional torture, and for you to realize how close you had been to home all this time- you felt betrayed.

-Your family felt like they had let you down, many of them instantly blaming themselves for not trying hard enough, for not doing more, for not bringing you home.

-You couldn’t trust them- you wouldn’t trust them. Their little Y/N was gone- and only a bitter and resentful shell of their Y/N was left. They didn’t know what to do to fix things with you- if they even could.