#where would I put them... no idea... I really need to magically make more money and get a 2-bedroom apartment so I can have more bookshelves

[after-witch]

I wish 90s & older horror paperbacks weren't so expensive nowadays... I just want the entire collection of Fear Street without having to spend like... $600... is that too much to ask.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

I think something that's fascinating in the AI discussion is how non-creatives perceive AI versus how many creatives perceive AI.

For example, years before AI was a thing--I spoke with someone about my creative writing projects and they expressed to me how they found it unfathomable that I could just make up entire worlds far removed from our reality of existence. To them, it was like magic.

To me, it was the culmination of countless hours spent playing with words until they flowed into semi-coherent lines of thought and emotion. I remember being ten years old and laboring away on my "biggest" novel project ever--it was 5k words full of singular sentence-long paragraphs and garbled heaps of grammar atrocities to the English language.

If I hadn't written it, I wouldn't have come to learn how to create the basic foundations of a story.

But I do get the "it's magic" sentiment a bit--I'm that way with music. Theoretically, I understand the components of a music composition but it feels like magic to see a musician that can listen to a tune for the first time and play it perfectly due to years of honing in their craft.

That's the premise of that quote from Arthur C. Clarke: "Magic's just science we don't understand yet."

When it comes to anything we don't have countless hours of experience with, it feels like magic. It feels like something that's outside of our feeble human capabilities. It's not until we start to put in the time to learn a skill that it becomes more attainable inside our heads.

Generative AI presents a proposition to the non-creative: "What if you could skip past the 'learning process' and immediately create whatever art of your choosing?"

It's instant dopamine. In a world that preys upon our ever-decreasing attention spans and ways of farming short spikes of dopamine, was it ever a surprise that generative ai would be capitalized in this fashion?

So for the non-creative, when they use generative AI and see something resembling their prompt, it feels good. They are "writing" stories, they are "making" art in ways they could never do with their lack of skills.

(It is, in fact, really cool that we have technology that can do this. It's just incredibly shitty that it's exploitative of the human artists whose works were taken without permission as well as its existence threatening their livelihoods.)

What I think is equally concerning as the data scraping of generative ai is the threat that AI imposes on the education of the arts. More and more, you see an idea being pushed that you don't need knowledge/experience in how to create art, all you need to do is feed prompts into generative ai and let it do the "work" for you.

Generative AI pushes the idea that all art should be pristine, sleek and ready for capitalism consumption. There is no room for amateur artists struggling like foals to take their first steps in their creative journeys. We live in a world where time is money and why "waste" time learning when you can have instant success?

It's a dangerous concept because presents a potential loss in true understanding of how art works. It obscures it and makes it seem "impossible" to the average person, when art is one of the freest forms of expressions out there.

It's already happening--Nanowrimo, the writing challenge where the entire point was writing 50k original words in a single month regardless of how pretty it looked--coming out and saying that it is ableist and classist to be opposed to AI is the canary in the coalmine of what's to come.

For the non-creatives who enjoy the generative ai, it feels like a power fantasy come to life. But for creatives concerned about generative ai?

We're living in a horror movie.

[rrezshifts]

𝓻𝙚𝙖𝖑𝙞𝙩i𝙚𝙨 𝙞’d 𝙡o𝙫𝙚 t𝙤 𝙛𝙞n𝙙

this is a list of realities i compiled from three lovely people’s dr ideas posts: ellysdreamworldd, deminetly, & lalalian. this post is a way for me to clear out my likes without having to keep track of the realities i’m interested in shifting to in a notebook i’ll lose or forget about . . .

a retro high school/college reality. this could be a reality from any decade where retro still fits. the original poster wrote 70s-00s. i feel like i partly already have this with my twilight reality, it’s set in the early 2000s. but it’s definitely something i could be interested in shifting to outside of that reality

2000s victoria’s secret angel reality. see this is weird because i am a trans man. and like . . . the parts of my body that are inherently feminine and ideal for an angel, i don’t like. however, it can be what i like so put my ideal masculine but twinkish form in some lingerie and call it a day!!

professional tourist reality. a reality where i have all the money in the world and travel the world with no responsibilities seems SO fun! but like an ideal and bigotry free world. and also i get to bring someone with me!!

vampire reality. tbh i already have a few of those . . . but i’m not in love with them. that and they’re from pre-existing media, and i want one that i can really play with and make my own and just fall in love with my own mind and life through it, yk??

royalty reality. this could be so so incredibly fun. but i fear the way i view and picture a royalty reality in my mind at the moment . . . it’s off putting. i’d need a new perspective to look at these type of realities from before trying any world building or i may genuinely give up immediately

summer camp reality. as the counselors of course. like imagine being a counselor with other hot people your age and just bouncing from counselor to counselor all summer as we all sneak around camp after curfew and just go crazy!! though i technically have a reality like this already . . . my the quarry reality is basically this because i removed all the horror game elements. i should think about it more though for sure, that why i put it here

mermaid reality. like genuinely the way the original poster described it as a the little mermaid kind of romance plot almost makes me not scared of the deep ocean aspect of this reality. but i love marine biology and marine animals so like i would realistically love this too. this is another one though, that i would need a perspective shift because right now the idea of this reality is off putting to me as well

magic university reality. quite literally just hogwarts in my marauders reality. but i haven’t scripted shit and i need to get on it. so i’m adding it in hopes that’ll change. it won’t lol

small town shop owner reality. the original poster said it was a flower shop. but the idea of it being like a small business of my choice, for example a metaphysical shop, and falling in love with the small business next door’s owner?? bonus points if it’s a tattoo artist i fall for, because why can’t fanfic tropes come to life!!

planetary romance reality. described as exploration of different planets with romance specifically with aliens. and you know what . . . i’m not gonna lie. the romance with aliens is what sold me!! call me what you want! (it’ll probably be true) but this genuinely seems like such a fun reality to get to workshop!!

eco-metamorphosis reality. described as a world being colonized by aliens but instead of rejecting them you welcome them with open arms. and i was thinking this could be so fun to imagine a world that has coexisted with aliens for generations now, a good many years after, and how that looks and what daily life would be like

that’s all of them!! please look at their posts if you liked any of these and want to see what else they have shared!! i’ll tag them here so they know i used their posts for a sort of form of content @ellysdreamworldd , @deminetly & @lalalian !! thank you for the great ideas 🙏

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Witches and Ghouls - Jabberwock Edition

This was originally requested by Anon who asked: "How would to Tokyo Debunker characters find out about and react to a Witch! Reader?"

I had to split it up into a few sections, separating the boys by their houses so here's the next part. The links to all the others are below. I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Haru Sagara, Towa Otonashi, Ren Shiranami x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

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

You're a witch! And even though the characters have made deals with demons themselves, they might have some surprising reactions.

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

I think Haru would actually be pretty oblivious to this. It’s going to completely blindside him since he’s so busy running Jabberwock.

And as much as he cares about you, wondering whether you’re a witch or not isn’t super high up on his list or priorities.

His perception of you doesn’t change a whole lot but he will ask you to help out more around Jabberwock since he knows now that you aren’t a defenceless human.

He’ll also keep an eye out for any hard to find ingredients you might need. Jabberwock is pretty big and there’s a lot of strange plants growing there.

Towa’s going to know instinctively about your witchy powers. The moment he sees you, he’s going to smile mysteriously and hand you some ferns (a plant that represents magic).

He won’t tell anyone though. He likes being in on your little secret and wants to keep it just between the two of you.

He also won’t be put off by your witchiness. He’s pretty strange himself so if anything, he thinks it’s nice being around someone with strange abilities who’s not a ghoul.

Much like Haru, if you need any plants, he’s all over it. He knows Jabberwock even better than the captain and will often bring you plans even if you don’t ask for them.

Ren is the last to know. He’s watched one too many b-rated horror movies and now he has no idea what a real witch looks like.

Totally blindsided and completely freaked out. He’s used to those things happening in movies, not real life and it’s going to take him a while to rationalise everything.

Once he realises that he still cares about you regardless, he’s immediately falling into the “oh, okay, that actually changes nothing” category.

The revelation really isn’t going to change anything about your relationship. He won’t ask anything of you, as long as you don’t ask too much of him.

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

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

[pilot-boi]

i am currently asking about the angel au, pop off my dude

Okay

So when I say it was reader led, I mean I created a world and a plot and changed my whole blog theme for a whole month. People sent in asks, and I would answer them as if I was the characters in the story. Through this, the audience slowly revealed the plot and the world

I posted art of all the major characters, drawn in the style of as if they are being surveilled by the Facility (the research place) in the case of people on the outside, or as case reports in the case of the test subjects

The basic idea was that the Brother gods had angels that would do their bidding on Remnant and be the go between for them and humanity. (The gods were more ambivalent in this version, but it doesn’t really come up) The angels also sort of act like the Greek gods do, occasionally inter mingling with humanity to create semi-deific offspring

When the gods leave Remnant and take magic with them, it sent a ripple across the world forever altering everyone who lives there. EVERYONE was combined at a fundamental level with animals, gaining many of their physical traits and instincts. MANY more traits than Faunus’ one. For example, Ruby is a wolf hybrid and she has the hindquarters, tail, ears, little snoot, and paw pads/claws on her fingers

The angels also left with the gods, but because they weren’t fully immortal they were sort of banished to another realm. A sort of in between dimension where they can observe but not directly interfere. The audience are actually these angels!

The real problem comes from the humans/angel half breeds

Centuries passed and the bloodlines become more and more diluted. Salem, who was a little girl at the time of the cataclysm, is now an old woman. (She’s a snake hybrid so her lifespan was greatly increased. She’s had to watch everyone she loves die)

Over the centuries she was able to accrue a large amount of wealth and influence, so she starts researching the gods. And when that falls apart, she starts researching the angels. Eventually she finds out that their descendants are still around, although it’s been so long that they haven’t had abilities or wings for centuries

She puts in more money, time, and research and eventually figures out how to identify the people with latent angel DNA. And how to bring their traits to the forefront

Ironwood becomes involved at this point, seeing the program as a good way to create soldiers. Salem is just using him, but he doesn’t really care. Their first test subjects are prisoners on death row, people who if they went missing nobody would care. Hundreds of prisoners die in the Facility from failed transformations. Tyrian is the first one to survive, and the process is perfected with Hazel

(By transformation I mean multiple wings, floating rings of eyes, maws of teeth and eyes, that sort of thing. The gods angels were FULL biblically accurate)

But they have their own opinions. They’re adults. They’re incredibly strong and useful, but Salem needs minds she can mold. So she starts “recruiting” children

Cinder, Roman, Neo, Mercury, and Emerald all less than willingly join their ranks. They’re all children when they’re kidnapped, and it’s been at least fifteen years for most of them by the time the plot actually starts

The final recruit is Jaune Arc, Salem’s own grandson. He’s the perfect candidate, her own family, trusting and with latent angel traits to boot. He vanishes from his home, has his memories wiped (the only one to do so since the others don’t have a home to remember) and joins their ranks

The plot begins when one of Ironwood’s other projects, Project Achilles aka star athlete Pyrrha Nikos, makes friends with Raphael.

Salem can’t call him Jaune in case his memories come back, and the scientists only refer to them all by case number. The other angels and other employees (Pyrrha, Pietro, Penny) call him Jaune

Salem doesn’t like that Raphael is getting close to someone else, because that means he might start thinking for himself. So she has Pyrrha killed. This makes Jaune lose it and have his mind wiped AGAIN, this time of all memories of Pyrrha

And this is the final straw for Pietro Polendina. Penny is caught in the crossfire and grievously injured. And when he’s sent to check on Jaune after he’s wiped, he doesn’t remember Pyrrha. So a break out happens, and Jaune Arc Test Subject Extraordinaire arrives on Ezra Ozpin’s porch

That’s where the plot begins at least. I can’t summarize all of it, and there’s a BUNCH of stuff I missed, but that’s the beginning. If you want to read it, you can either go through the faau tag, or go to the AO3 link below

And I’d love to hear your thoughts :]

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

night light

this is based on this post by @pepsicurtis

read on ao3

It was ridiculous, frankly. Ponyboy was the one who needed someone next to him to sleep, not Soda. Yet, Soda couldn’t stop tossing and turning. Part of it was to do with the fact he had no idea where his brother was, that Ponyboy could be anywhere in the country. 

But as he turned over again, he realized that he missed the weight of someone else in bed beside him. He missed Pony kicking him and flopping all over the bed. Hell, he would rather Ponyboy waking up from a screaming nightmare because that would mean he was safe. 

The first night, Soda slept all of three hours. He dragged himself through his shift at the DX, barely making eye contact with Darry when he got him. 

The second night, he tried the couch. But he kept waking up, thinking he heard the door opening or the phone ringing. Darry tried to talk to him in the morning, asking how he slept. Soda just murmured, “Fine.” Before pulling himself into the shower.

The third night, he tried Darry’s chair. Half the time Darry ended up sleeping there anyway, maybe there was something magic about the chair that made sleep come easier. It didn’t. Soda slept even worse than before. 

“Look at me.” Darry put a hand on Soda’s shoulder and forced him to meet his eyes. “Did you get any sleep?” Soda shrugged. Darry sighed, “Maybe you should stay home today.”

Soda quickly shook his head, “No, we need the money.”

“Soda-”

“I’m going to get dressed.” Soda shrugged Darry’s hand off his shoulder. 

He knew it hurt Darry, but every time Soda looked at his oldest brother, he saw Darry hitting Pony and their little brother running out the door. Both of them were struggling. And Soda didn’t even let himself lean on him, he couldn’t. Because he knew the second he let Darry comfort him, Soda would forgive him. He didn’t want to forgive him, not yet at least.

Until the fourth night. 

It was midnight. Soda was trying to sleep in his bed again. He had Pony’s pillow hugged to his chest, blankets tucked tight around him. Yet sleep wasn’t anywhere close. He didn’t think he’d felt that alone in a very long time. So he finally forced himself out of bed and padded down the hall to Darry’s bedroom. With his pillow clutched to his chest, he felt so much like a child. 

He remembered being a kid, before Pony was able to talk. He and Darry used to share a bedroom and they would stay up talking. Soda used to be able to make Darry laugh so hard he got a headache. That didn’t happen so much anymore.

As always, Darry’s bedroom door was cracked open. Soda nudged it open. In the light from the streetlight, he saw Darry lying on his back, fast asleep. Soda crept in and sat down on the floor next to Darry’s bed. He laid down, curling his legs to his chest. With the sound of his brother breathing, he thought he would be able to sleep. No such luck. 

“You really gonna sleep there?” Darry’s voice was soft in the dark room.

“It’s comfy,” Soda lied. Darry was silent for a long moment. “I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I.” The admission surprised Soda. “Soda, get your ass up here.”

With the permission given, Soda quickly climbed into the bed, hoping Darry wouldn’t change his mind. But he didn’t. Instead, Darry lifted up his arm and let Soda curl against his side. Soda clung to his big brother like he’d been wanting to for days, he pressed his nose against Darry’s throat. 

“I’m scared,” Soda said softly. 

Darry’s arms tightened around him, “Me too, little buddy.”

“Do you think he’s gonna come home?” Soda’s voice broke a little. 

He felt Darry sigh under him, “I don’t know. I really hope so.” Darry’s hand moved in small circles along Soda’s shoulder blades. “I’m sorry, Pepsi Cola. I’m sorry I got angry and I’m sorry I yelled at the two of you and I’m even more sorry that I-I hurt Pony and made him leave.”

He felt Darry starting to loosen his grip on him, but Soda only held him tighter. “I’m not mad.”

“You should be.” Soda didn’t know what to say to that. So instead, he just hiked the blankets up over them. “Soda.”

“Hmm?” 

“Didja hear what I said?”

“Yeah. Just thought it was stupid.” Darry chuckled. It was the closest Darry got to a laugh since Pony and Johnny left. “I really miss him, Dar.”

“Me too, little buddy. It doesn’t feel like home without him here.” 

Soda sat up and looked down at his big brother, “He’s going to come back, right? Because if he doesn’t-” Tears started to well in his eyes and he found himself being quickly pulled back into Darry’s arms. He cried softly, clenching his fists into Darry’s shirt as if afraid he was going to leave too. 

“He will,” Darry said. “He’s going to come home.” It was a promise Darry couldn’t make, but at that moment, Soda didn’t care. For a second, he let himself be a kid again. He let himself believe that Darry could do anything, that everything was going to be okay as long as his brother was there.

“Okay.” Soda’s voice broke. “Because I don’t think we’re going to be okay if he doesn’t.”

“I know.” Darry pressed a kiss to his head. “I know.” 

Soda slept soundly that night and he knew Darry did too. Even though his dreams were filled with Ponyboy and Johnny, they were kinder than the previous nights’ imaginings. There was no blood, not bruises.

In the morning, Soda made them both coffee and packed Darry’s lunch. When they parted ways for work, Darry left Soda with a long embrace and a squeeze to the back of his neck. It was more than enough to keep Soda’s spirits up the rest of the day.

That night, Soda slept in Darry’s room again. Darry didn’t say a word about it, he just smiled.

[shhtickerbook]

Hi, I really like the Wonka movie and love the idea of Willy being a regressor. Could you do a scenario where he's at his shop but suddenly gets trigger and regresses?

Bittersweet

thank you so much for the request! Sorry it took a while.

Trigger warning for panic attacks, mild injury description and detailed descriptions of a trauma trigger

This fic takes place where all of the The Scrub crew are all aware of Willys regression, post movie. Also in my own AU, Their found family decide to remain close to eachother and stay in town to help with the new shop / factory.

At last the rebuilt shop had been restored, it had taken time , much longer than it had previously. For a while Wonka could hardly bare to look at it, seeing everything he worked so hard for so destroyed. But with the help of his friends and new family, they managed to restore it to her former glory. It was even improved beyond its previous, with the chocolate cherry blossom bearing a prismatic array of leaves and petals. It was somehow even more perfect than before.

Everything was going perfect that day, sales were inclining everyday. Abacus becoming chief financial advisor of the store, with the Money he had earned he was able to move both his Wife and Granddaughter to come live with him here. They were all thriving brilliantly with this new future to come.

Noodle was attending a grammar school now, but every day she would come racing to the store to help out. She was busy stocking the shelves of chocolate boxes, when she saw Willy strolling down the lane, cane swinging. Sometimes he just had to take it all in around him again, grinning at this dream he’d made come true.

“We’ve only got a few of the deluxe boxes on display Willy, they were pretty popular and they probably won’t last too long.”

Willy hopped over to take a look, the truffles in question had been increasingly popular. But it shouldn’t be a problem, he had a machine upstairs that was busy pumping out more. They had been closed for some refurbishment for a little while, but at last reopening to the public, and he couldn’t be more excited. Willy made sure to make some a quick patrol around the shop, checking in with each of his friends who were working in their own stations.

“Willy get a look at this! It’s done”

Piper called over in a sing song voice, she was busy tinkering away at a panel by the moat that surrounded the chocolate tree. Before there was just the small boat that mechanically spun around in a circuit, but this time Piper and Willy had put their heads together to something much more magic. With her mastery in plumbing, she turned a wheel until a pipe burst open into the moat. Wonkas finest melted chocolate streaming out, this time the boat needing no mechanism to cycle around. It was a perfect chocolate river spiralling around the tree, Willy whooping in excitement.

“It’s perfect!”

With clasped hands and a grin, before Piper put her arm around the chocolatier with a firm pat on the back. It was great timing too, the clock rang for 9:00am. Abacus checking his own pocket watch to be sure before calling out.

“Alright, any minute now we’re going to be open to the public again. And if my findings are correct I think it will be even busier than last time! Oh and noodle, Uniform?.”

He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, noticeably lacking the blush pink outfit. Noodle just chuckling before holding up her bag, a flash of pink fabric poking out like a flag. It had been Willy who designed such garments, everyone at first was a little unsure with how… flamboyant they were. But they quickly warmed up to them, even Abacus.

Willy just couldn’t wait for the customers to arrive, sitting himself by the glass to peer through into the gallery gourmet. In the distance seeing a cloud or people making their way up. With a smile he stood up, adjusting his new scarf over his coat, before opening the front doors.

“Welcome one and all again to the renewed Wonkas chocolate!”

-

The new grand opening was going splendidly, the chocolate river canal proving to be quite the money maker too. Only a sovereign a ride, and it created quite a line for it that wound around the shop. Which meant those waiting in line had a perfect view of everything they had on sale.

Willy had the opportunity to unveil one of his newest creations too, the everlasting gobstopper. A hard candy In which never gets smaller, no matter how much and how long you sucked on it. (Lofty had been testing one for nearly a month now)

The prismatic coloured candy was stacked into a pyramid in its new display, Noodle working the station. They were making the most money they had ever had, but that didn’t matter much to Willy. What mattered to him was being able to share his joy and magic with those willing to indulge. And this time he didn’t have the chocolate cartel to worry about, his shop was bound to become the star of the Gallery Gourmet.

“Oi Mr Wonka!”

Willy was alerted by a boy tugging on his tail coat, turning to see a familiar face. It was the young shoe shine lad he had been stopped by multiple times on his first day here.

“Where are them swirly chocolate things? Me Mam loves them.”

Willy chuckled, surprised that the boy wasn’t trying to proposition him with a shoe shine or a brush of his coat. He already had chocolate smeared across his mouth, clearly been at the free samples.

“The chocolate truffles I think you’re referring to, are just over by the display over there young man. But try and save some for your Mother though”

Willy pointed his cane in the direction of the now dwindling boxes of truffles. The boy giving him a doff of his cap before turning on heel, Willy returning it with his own top hat. He decided to go check in with Abacus, he was just finishing up with a customer. The cashier ringing joyfully as he dropped coins inside, Abacus just couldn’t believe how much they were making.

“I’d say we’ve already made double of what he did last time Willy, especially with the new gobstoppers.”

Willy grinned, everything just felt so perfect. With the extra money, he planned to raise his friend’s wages. And although she wasn’t aware, Willy had begun to collect a fund. One for Noodle, he had already promised her a lifetime of chocolate. But with the girls smarts and potential, he wanted her to have most in life. The money was for her future, if she wanted to pursue any kind of career. She had done so much for her, he wanted to do the very same for her own future.

Before he could respond, a scream cut through their conversation. The sudden noise startling Willy, almost feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. Over on the other side of the store, a crowd had grown around a young boy. A boy who was red in the face, spluttering and choking. The exact boy that Willy had spoken to just moments ago.

Abacus immediately dropped what he was doing, racing over and pushing through the crowd. Willy knew he should follow, make sure the boy was alright. It was his store, the owner.

But he didn’t, he stood there completely catatonic.

No, no. Not again, it can't happen again.

In preparation for the new opening, Willy had obsessively checked and taste tested each product. So much so that he’d gone to bed with an exceptionally sore stomach. Everything was safe, he was sure everything was safe. Abacus, Lottie and Noodle were all kneeling by the young man, Before Abacus called out.

“Call for an ambulance-“

The shop itself was spinning, and it wasn’t just the chocolate canal ride. Willy was sure that the ground itself was falling away beneath him. An ambulance? Before it had just been multicoloured hair growth or green skin pigmentation, nothing life threatening. Nothing ever in need of any medical attention.

What had he done? It’s not as if the chocolate cartel could be involved like last time. It was his fault, it had to be his fault. He felt sick, face turned white as a sheet. He lost track of how long he’d been staring, but Noodle had noticed him through the crowd and immediately ran to her elder brother figure once the boy was being taken away.

“Willy? Willy!”

She tried to get his attention, but the chocolatiers eyes were fixed ahead. His lips were trembling with his head shaking, it was scaring her. She tried her best to reassure him, knowing what he’d be thinking.

“It’s okay, Willy you didn’t-“

He broke eye contact with the scene, looking down at her with his head shaking even more violently. His eyes flooded with tears as he began to step backwards, almost like a frightened animal.

“No, nono. Not again it can’t happen- won’t happen again”

He started mumbling out almost psychotically, flinching away from noodle when she tried to touch him. Both arms up with his hands and fingers flicking in panic. It was all his fault, that young boy might even die because he had done something wrong. He had no one to blame this time, what would mamma think?

He couldn’t hear anything around him anymore, it was just static. Everything was spinning and blurring, stumbling and tripping over things as he continued to backtrack. He needed to get away, he was a coward. A coward in which had probably killed or seriously injured a child with his stupid dreams.

Noodle tried again desperately to get his attention, waving a hand in his face. It was terrifying, he didn’t look like himself. He just continued to mutter and whimper to himself, his head shaking so hard that it may pop off his shoulders. She tried to hold onto his hand again but he recoiled away in disgust like she was diseased. No matter what she was saying, it wasn’t getting through.

“Willy! You’re scaring me, let me explain-“

But he wasn’t listening, holding his hands close up to his chest protectively. His cane clattering loudly to the ground, now without his mobility aid as he kept stepping back.

He needed to get away, now. Gasping for air, he stumbled backwards, feeling for the door into the backroom of the store. But he felt into midair instead, losing his balance and crashing into one of the shelves instead.

He yelped out in surprise, the back of his head hitting wood as a one of the glass jars wobbled from its shelving before crashing down over him. The further stimulation only worsening Willys condition. Noodle screamed and attempted to grab onto him before he fell, but couldn’t in time. Shards of glass and candy fell about him like snowflakes, But Wonka hardly noticed, far too panicked and overstimulated to care about any pain.

The commotion attracted even more attention in the shop, customers looking over to see the owner sitting in a pile of glass shards. As quickly as it happened, Willy somehow managed to get back to his feet, splintering his hands and arms with the glass in panic. In a rush he managed to pull open the back door and escape from everything. Behind him he could hear people calling his name, but unable to differentiate whether it was his friends or angry rioting customers. Noodle just stood there, not sure if she should follow. Deciding instead to enlist some support before attempting to talk with him like this.

Willy’s legs felt like jelly, so he didn’t make it very far. Falling into a heap on the floor, before gasping desperately for air. He couldn’t breathe properly, tears pouring down his face before he burst into sobs. Every single terrible outcome and scenario was racing around Wonkas brain. Did he not check the ingredients correctly? What if the boy wasn’t the only one in distress? They would for sure close down the store, maybe even arrest him. It was all his fault, it was happening all over again and there was nothing he could do about it.

-

Once the child was loaded into the ambulance, the employees of Wonkas Chocolate thought it best to close up shop for today. Abacus had spoken with the ambulance attendant, who had assured him that the boy was going to be alright. It was a huge relief to everybody, and although fellow customers seemed a little unsettled by the event, it was no where near like the angry mob from before. The only irritation coming from the announcement of their early closure. Both Abacus and Piper were guiding shoppers out the front door when Noodle approached both of them, looking extremely distressed.

“It’s Willy, he’s- he’s not okay”

-

Wonka was still so deep into a panic attack, so that when the door opened and his friends entered, he hardly noticed.

Noodle gasped at the sight of him, his cut up hands from the glass had begun to bleed horribly over his hands and arms, ruining his velvet jacket. The chocolatier was curled up into a ball, hyperventilating between cries.

Noodle couldn’t help but hold onto Pipers hand, she wasn’t good with blood. Benz squeezed her hand back reassuringly, they all too often forgot she was still a child herself. So Abacus approached first, kneeling in front of the panicked boy.

“Willy, it’s alright. It’s not what you think. The boy is going to be okay.”

But It didn’t seem like Abacus’ words were getting through, He had to physically take ahold of Willys hands before he would any pay attention, his bloodshot eyes snapping up. It hurt his heart to see him like this.

“He— is. Okay?”

Willy managed to choke out between gasps, Noodle pulled away from piper to sit on the floor too, a hand comfortingly on his knee as she looked with concern. Willy Wonka was the strongest person she’d ever met, seeing him like this, it was scary.

“Yeah Willy, he just had a peanut allergy-“

Willy blinked hard, shaking his head again.

“Bb-ut I mmade a sign- i forgot to put them up?”

He began to spiral yet again, he did remember creating such labels, as it was Noodles idea. He thought it terrible luck for those who had such afflictions. But he wanted to include everyone to enjoy his creations as much as he could. With plenty of his other treats being free from such ingredients. They were even placed on the other side of the store especially to reduce any cross contamination. Had he forgotten to properly label something?

“Seems the young chap just wasn’t paying too much attention, just grabbing at any free sample he could find. It’s not your fault.”

Abacus gently rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb, before sucking through his teeth at the state of them. Willy was struggling to process this new information, his body and brain had already accepted the fact that this was all his fault.

“You need to breath Willy, in and out”

Noodle demonstrated, breathing in and blowing gently out onto his hot teary face. Willy looked up, still taking in short shallow breaths. He attempted to follow her guide, but halfway fell back into the hyperventilation.

“It’s okay buddy, try again”

Piper had come to kneel down too, smiling sadly at the sorry sight of him. It was strange seeing such a positive character so distraught. It ended up taking quite few minutes for the breathing exercises to help, with Willy leaning against Abacus as he did his best to follow his friends instructions.

At last the hyperventilation had slowed but Willy was still shaking. Biting down hard on his lower lip, tears continuing to cascade down his cheeks silently. Clicking his tongue sympathetically, Abacus pat his shaking knee. It was clearly going to take a little while for Willy to accept that this wasn’t his fault.

“You’ve had a bit of a fright, haven’t you?”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his overreaction. But even with the reassurance that the boy would be alright, the anxiety was still lingering like little bugs racing up and down his skin. He was also beginning to feel that fuzzy sensation in his head again. It was like the scare had flipped a switch in his head, so he just nodded mournfully.

“Oh you poor lad”

Abacus tutted sympathetically, turning his attention to the injuries too. Gently lifting his arms to peer at them, surface wounds thankfully yet still very painful looking.

At least those could be easily fixed. Then turned to Piper with a knowing look, both of them having the same suspicion of his seemingly regressive headspace.

“We best get him upstairs to the flat, would you mind Benz?”

The woman nodded, before patting Noodle on the shoulder. Who was still staring at Willy with concern and anxiety.

“Hey noodle, how about you go help Larry and Lottie wrap up the store? We’ll take care of Willy”

Noodle wasn’t sure at first, looking back at her friend who was still in quite an upset state. but she was a little grateful for the opportunity. Seeing Willy so traumatised and bloody wasn’t an easy thing for a 13 year old to look at, especially when it was somebody she loved so much. So she quickly lunged forward to hug him tight, bearing in mind to be gentle around his arms. Even in the hug she could feel him shaking still, Willy only managing to weakly return it. When she stood up to leave she hesitated for a moment, watching as Abacus helped him onto his jittering legs.

“We’ll get him all sorted dear, you go help with the store..”

Abacus reassured her, Nodding after one more hesitant glance. She trusted them to look after Willy, they all cared for him so.

“Now then, let’s get you upstairs.”

Piper held the chocolatier up, watching how his legs were knocked kneed like a newborn fawn. Holding an arm over him to help him move on forward.

“Mmsorry”

Willy mumbled. Although he could sense the obvious regression taking its hold, he felt like such a silly burden. But when he they came up to his spiral staircase to his flat, he couldn’t help but moan. His stupid legs felt completely useless, almost like they were made from gummy candy.

“It’s okay buddy, but I don’t think these stairs are gonna be the smartest plan for you right now”

Before he could respond, he yelped as he was lifted up, then being settled on the plumbers hip. Seeing her grin mischievously as she held him steady. Willys face burning in surprise, but the action just made him feel even more fuzzy.

“How can someone who eats mainly chocolate be so little? He’s like a bird?”

Piper hushed over Willy to Abacus, who just chuckled at the comment.

“Little I think is definitely the correct adjective for right now, the poor boy's had such a fright"

There was a part of Willy that wanted to object to the accusation that he was feeling little, but even he knew they were likely right. He needed it terribly. And now that the adrenaline of everything was fading, he could truly feel the pain in his arms. Eyes widening in fear when taking actual sight of them, he didn’t like blood.

So he just squeezed his eyes shut right, pushing his head into pipers shoulder. The woman in question looking over at Abacus at the action, lips pursed at just how adorable this was. If it weren’t for such a bad situation, she would be skipping in joy. Why Willy had decided to implement such a fancy staircase (when he often needed his cane) was beyond them. Sometimes the chocolatier forgot about practicality, always wanting the extravaganza.

-

At last they made it upstairs to a landing, Abacus opening the mahogany door into Wonkas flat. The inside was extremely cosy, its interior inspired from his old canal boat home from when he was a child. A sloped curved ceiling with lots of warm colours and carved wooden decor. It was pretty simple and homey, the kitchenette and lounge taking up the room. A very large window looked down below to the gallery gourmet, with a small workshop set up against it, an ornate machine churning out singular chocolates. Then finally Willy’s bed up a few steps to an upper level of the room itself.

There was were two other doors on either side of the reasonably size room, one normal one leading to a bathroom. The other door abnormally small? Only around a metre in height. But that didn’t matter just now, the pair walking further inside before Piper settled Willy down on the couch.

“There we go, home and safe now.”

She comforted, hating how fragile and anxious he seemed. The presence of his home brought some comfort though, Willy reaching out to stroke the ribbed corduroy fabric of his lounge. Not before Abacus quickly lifted his hands away in alarm.

“Ah-ah! I’m sorry Willy but I will not have you smearing blood into that furniture”

He chastised only gently, the pale pink fabric being very easy to stain, and even harder to wash out.

“Wasn’t gonna..”

Willy mumbled, but his eyes did widen when he peered at his injured hands again. They were starting to really sting now, and he could catch the shiny glint of glass that was still imbedded.

“I should hope not, that chaise lounge just so happens to be one of my favourite pieces of decor in this accommodation”

A sharp pertinent voice cut through, not before Piper let out a yelp in surprise. Standing between them was a very small orange man, who just rolled his eyes at the reaction.

“Oh please Ms Benz, you have squealed many times at my presence. I’m tired of being revered like a mouse around a circus elephant”

The Oompa Loompa was holding an empty teacup in hand, he was only departing from his own room to tidy it away. Not expecting the flat to suddenly be busy with uninvited guests.

“Well if I’m the ‘circus elephant’ in that analogy, I’d be careful I don’t send you through that window with the kick of my boot.”

Piper threatened, stamping her foot in his direction. She wasn’t so keen on Lofty, his uptight attitude drove her up the wall. And she still hadn’t got used to his small presence, maybe it was because when he was a child she used to have nightmares and a very irrational fear of gnomes of all things.

Abacus himself also was a little surprised by the little orange man’s entrance, but was able to behave more tactfully than Piper. He’d only spoken with Lofty very little, the Oompa Loompa preferring much more to stay to himself with his job in the tasting department.

“Now would somebody care to explain what has happened here?”

Lofty came to the front to peer at Willy, grimacing at the sight of his injury. But he was even more curious about the strange manner that Wonka seemed to be in. Willy had tucked his knees to his chest as he anxiously flicked his fingers, he certainly wasn’t his usual overly positive and often irritating self.

“We had a bit of a situation in the shop, poor lad went into anaphylaxis. He’s going to be alright, but Willy here got quite the fright”

Lofty raised his eyebrows, it still didn’t quite explain the bloody arms though. But the possibility of that lounge being stained was his main concern.

“I’ll go fetch my first aid kit before he gets blood on anything else in here that I have the slightest attachment to.”

Lofty said with mild disgust before turning on heel to his room. Willy himself still looked pretty miserable, but more exhausted than anything. Piper just wanted to scoop the boy up into her lap and squeeze him tight, although she wasn’t sure if it would be appreciated right now. The group was then startled for a moment from a noise clearly coming from downstairs, a creaking metal noise.

“BENZ! WE TRIED TO TURN THE CHOCOLATE VALVE OFF BUT ITS NOW STUCK AT MAX PRESSURE”

A whiny yell came out clearly from a distressed Larry chucklesworth who had turned the chocolate river valve in the wrong direction, doubling its pressure as it pumped out melted chocolate.

“For Petes sake! I’m coming you idiot!.”

Piper sighed out in exasperation, pinching her brow. She had specifically told everybody not to touch it, she was still sorting out all the kinks. She did catch a small giggle coming from Willy though, happy to see at least it had made him smile.

“I better go sort out that mess downstairs, you be good for Abacus and that sunburnt gnome”

She leant down and gave him a peck on the cheek, wishing she could spend some more time with the little chocolatier. Turning Willys face bright pink, unable to hide a smile at the affection. As Piper turned to leave, she had to quickly jump at the arrival of Lofty yet again. Whom arms were filled with a leather first aid kit, rolling his eyes at the woman who quite nearly flattened him beneath her boots.

“If you could please move to the floor, I’m not risking anything with that lounge.”

Lofty demanded, Looking up at the two remaining men as best he could from behind the first aid case. Willy obeyed and slid down to the floor, sitting crosslegged. His head was feeling very fuzzy now, and he looked up at abacus with whine, wanting him to sit too.

“I think I’ll just sit here if you don’t mind Lad, I don’t think I could get back up from the floor if I sat down”

Abacus chuckled, perching instead on the couch. But still kept a comforting hand on his shoulder, gently massaging back and forth to soothe him. Lofty had been watching the interaction with a raised brow, something was certainly going on. So as he began to unpack some supplies, he bluntly questioned.

“Alright, if I could be informed of what’s going on right here, it would be very much appreciated. I’m quite positive this reaction is far beyond than a child choking on a peanut, especially with those injuries of which still nobody has explained how they came to be.”

He curtly asked, whilst pulling out some bandages, gentian violet and some tweezers for those glass shards. Abacus awkwardly cleared his throat, looking over at Willy whose face had darkened. Although the Oompa Loompa had been residing with him for a while now, his regression was something that he hadn’t yet disclosed with him. Although all his friends had been amazingly supportive and loving, it was still a very peculiar topic to try and explain. Lofty was already quite judgemental most of the time, what if he found this weird and gross?

Willy brought his knees up to his chest anxiously, staying silent in a panic. He didn’t want Lofty to hate him. But he felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, Abacus smiling kindly.

“Would you like me to explain?”

He suggested, especially since it seemed the boy wasn’t feeling so verbal right now. Willy looked up and thought about it for a moment, before giving him a nod. He didn’t know how to put his words right for this. All the while Lofty has continued to observe the interaction, shoe tapping on the floor impatiently.

“Alright, i believe you should know regardless as you share a residency with Willy. Sometimes when he gets overwhelmed, Mr Wonka finds it a little hard to stay grown.”

Abacus carefully explained to the little orange man across from him, who frowned in confusion.

“Grown? I can’t see any sign of him shrinking in size, he looked to be the same height as before since I last checked.”

The Oompa Loompa positioned both hands into a viewfinder over the chocolatier, nope, still the same size. Abacus couldn’t help but laugh at the misunderstanding, wishing this could be easier to explain.

“No not in physical size, more like he feels a little younger. Where he needs a little extra care and support, like a child.”

At this point Willy wanted to sink through the floor, not daring to check the Oompa Loompas facial expression. Instead picking at the fabric of his slacks, the small bigger part of him wanted to end this conversation and say that Abacus was just talking utter nonsense, but he didn’t have the energy to do so. He was tired, all he wanted was for his arms to stop hurting and for someone to hold him for a while.

“So what you’re saying that Mr Wonka here regresses to infancy when unsettled?”

Lofty questioned the man, it was difficult to discern his tone. After all, most of the time when he spoke it sounded as if you had offended him in some way. But when he looked at the mannerisms and body language of Willy, he certainly seemed very different than usual.

“Well, when you put it bluntly. Yes you’re correct, but I hope that you won’t be too judgemental. This is something Mr Wonka cannot help, and we shouldn’t be cruel about it.”

Abacus’s voice began to become colder as he finished his sentence, it wasn’t something Willy was used to ever hearing, looking up in slight alarm. Abacus was staring down at the Oompa Loompa almost threateningly, daring him to respond. In response, Lofty snorted after a pause.

“Hm, very peculiar I must say, but I suppose he already acts rather immaturely most of the time regardless.”

Was all he said before completely moving on, returning to prepare the first aid equipment. Acting as if Abacus had just requested he pass the sugar over to him. Both Willy and Abacus were surprised by well, the lack of reaction.

“Now then, please take off that coat show me your arms. I need to know what I’m working with here”

Willy paused for a moment, still expecting some kind of response, insult or anything. But let Abacus carefully ease him out of the blood soaked jacket before displaying his arms outwards, with the Oompa Loompas only sign of disgust so far being directed at the injuries.

“Goodness you’ve made quite the mess of yourself haven’t you?”

Abacus nodded in agreement, before wincing when seeing the state of them properly in the light.

“Indeed, he took a bit of a tumble into one of the displays. One of our crystal chocolate jars paying the price.”

Lofty just sighed, typical Wonka behaviour. He’d never met a person so terminally clumsy sometimes and foolish.

“Of course he did, now I’m going to need you to stay very still. I’m going to remove these glass shards before they get infected.”

He held up the tweezers, Willy shrinking away in alarm at the metal instrument. He didn’t want it to hurt. But Abacus rubbed his back supportively, assuring him it would be fine. As promised, Lofty was impeccably careful as he removed each tiny shard from his arms and hands, his very small hands working in his favour for the task. Back in Loompa land he had a friend whom was the islands herbalist, so he only had some experience when it came to medicine.

He placed each glinting piece into a dish by the table, and once satisfied there was none remaining he reached for the little purple bottle.

“This is an antiseptic I assume?”

Lofty questioned the mathematician, handing the violet bottle up to him. The man pulled a face when reading the label, knowing from experience that this stung viciously.

“Alright, this may sting a little”

-

It did in fact sting quite a lot, as soon as Lofty applied the purple tonic. Willy yelping and flinching away. The pain had just begun to settle when they’d reached upstairs, but now it felt as if someone had set a match upon his skin. And with how sensitive he was already feeling, fresh tears began to spill over and he did his best to squirm away.

“Now i understand it hurts, but it will feel a lot worse later if you don’t allow me to finish Mr Wonka”

In the end Abacus ended up having to retreat from the couch, Willy positioning himself into his lap for security from the horrible anti-septic. He was perhaps feeling the smallest he ever had, and even with Lofty there he didn’t have the willpower to mask it. Eventually with enough comforting words and support from Abacus, Lofty had successfully painted either arm and hand with the bright purple medicine.

“See, we’re done now. There was no need for that silly nonsense”

Lofty chastised as he screwed the cap on the glass bottle again, but he still didn’t seem very fussed about the dramatic change in headspace. More irritated by what he deemed was a bit of an overreaction. Next reaching for the roll of bandages, but this time Willy was much more reproachful about offering his arms back over to the Oompa Loompa, scowling at him best he could.

“I don’t appreciate that expression directed at me, I was just going to wrap your arms up. Unless of course you would prefer Mr Crunch to do so?”

He spoke with crossed arms, but found the grumpy expression slightly entertaining. Especially with his forlorn tearstained face which worked against his attempt to be threatening.

“I could if you’d prefer, but that would mean i would need to tip you from my lap to do so.”

Abacus explaining his options, thanking heaven above regardless that the man was very light and he was only losing partial blood flow to his legs.

“But you are certainly not welcome in my own, I’ve been in danger of being crushed once too many times today.”

Willy thought about it for moment, finding the embrace around him far too comfortable to give up quite just yet. So reluctantly pointed at lofty rather rudely.

“He do it”

“Can Lofty do it please would be much politer thank you very much”

He corrected with a firm expression, but began to unroll the bandages regardless. Carefully he applied the bandage around each skinny arm, all the while Willy just back leant into Abacus throughout the process. He was so tired, all he wanted was to sleep. By the time Lofty was finished, the boy was practically half asleep.

“That’s you done now, very brave”

Willy dozily inspected his new bound arms, before letting out a big yawn. Even lofty finding it a little endearing, revealing out a small smile before quickly replacing it with his usual frown.

“I think we best get you tucked up for a little rest, shall we?”

Willy nodded, and reluctantly allowed Abacus to tip him off his lap so he could stand again. The poor gentleman groaned in pain as he stood up, he was certainly far too old for this.

“Mm-head hurts”

Wonka mumbled out, his skull feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool. Infact most of his body was starting to feel very sore and weak.

“Well no wonder it hurts with all that silly crying, but I give you permission to return to that lounge. Now that it’s no longer in danger of being stained by bodily fluids.”

Lofty said distastefully, motioning for Willy to get up and move. Kindly Abacus helping him up to his feet again, which was desperately needed as he had forgotten his cane downstairs in the store.

He practically collapsed back down onto the couch, sighing in relief to finally be lying down. His entire body felt as if it had been put through the laundry ringer at scrubbits. A few moments later he felt Abacus tuck a thick blanket around his frame, the one that had been stretched across his bed.

In his dozing state, he instinctively reached out for something. Face screwing up a little when realising it obviously wasn’t going to be there.

“What on earth are you looking for?”

Lofty questioned, clearly seeing the man feeling around in complete thin air.

“Chester”

Willy mumbled out , he was so tired but he still needed his companion, especially right now. Lofty’s slow blink was practically audible, shaking his head before turning to the mathematician who had busied himself with folding up the velvet jacket. Planning on taking it back personally to soak it out, even though he’d left the laundry business, it still stuck with him.

“Would you mind translating what on earth he is requesting?”

Abacus just smiled, remembering that name very clearly. So he just pointed up at the bed, knowing it would he the most likely location.

“Check underneath the pillow of Mr Wonkas bed.”

With a raised eyebrow and a lot of confusion, the Oompa Loompa reluctantly followed the direction. Only feeling more lost when lifting the pillow and finding the contents beneath.

“Is this some kind of rag?”

He held up a small knitted bird with an extended arm, its head lolling to the side rather unsettlingly. Willy spotted the item immediately though, lifting his own head up from the couch with a whine.

“Chester..”

Loftys confused frown remained, able to put together the clues that this amalgamation of wool must be “Chester” Mr Wonka did seem very concerned about it though, so he quickly handed it over to him. The little bird being clung close to his chest, with its misshapen beak poking out under his chin. It was all so ludicrous, it was just a silly inanimate object.

But he saw how the boy began to settle again at its presence. Eyes closing at last as his breathing became slower and deeper. For the first time since he’d seen the man that afternoon, he looked genuinely at peace. From behind him he heard the accountant approaching, who was holding two cups of tea, one being marginally smaller.

“Think we could both do with one”

Lofty accepted the offer, the pair sitting in the kitchenette. Both of them looking over at the now fast asleep chocolatier on the lounge. A comfortable silence between the two as they just took the time to wind down, the scene would probably look extremely strange to an any outsider if they happened to wander inside. Abacus smiled fondly as he noticed the knitted toucans wing being gently chewed on as Wonka slept.

“Thank you, for being understanding about this. This is a part of him that not many know or care to understand, but I believe it’s something very special to be trusted with”

He said to the Oompa Loompa, who had also been observing the chocolatiers behaviour. It was rather fascinating.

“But, I won’t hold it against you if this is a little too strange for you. This manner of coping is certainly unconventional”

He continued, wanting to assure him. He remembered that Noodle had been a little apprehensive about it all when he first explained the regression to her. And Willy had been extremely firm in the fact that he never wanted to be a burden to anybody or make them feel uncomfortable. Lofty stayed silent for a few moments, draining the cup of tea before answering.

“You are speaking with somebody who comes from a tropical island populated only by 2ft tall orange men. I think you would find good reason to label me as a hypocrite if i were to judge Mr Wonka negatively for this.”

He paused in his statement, looking over again at the boy with the smallest of a smile

“Is it a little peculiar? Definitely, but I suppose we all must learn to be open minded when it comes to things we don’t quite understand yet.

And on one hand, I may find it a little endearing too, at least he’s less irritating than usual, aside from all the tears.”

And with that, he turned again to the man across the table. Nonchalant as always.

“Anyways, how about you go hunting for some of those truffles. I’m sure Wonka always hides them out of my reach”

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn

chapter summary: more business plans, street food, and a fiesta

Chapter six

The next morning, you wake up with a renewed sense of purpose and excitement. After getting ready and gathering your notes and plans for the garage, you drive back to the Diaz house. The sun shines brightly, a stark contrast to the stormy night from two days ago. The drive feels shorter this time, your mind buzzing with ideas.

When you arrive, Sean is already in the garage, tinkering with a car engine. He looks up and smiles as you approach. “Morning! Ready to get started?”

You return his smile, holding up your notes. “Absolutely. I’ve got some great ideas to discuss.”

Sean nods enthusiastically. “Great! Let’s set up in the kitchen. We can grab some breakfast and go over everything.”

Inside the house, the aroma of fresh coffee fills the air. Daniel is sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a bowl of cereal. He looks up with a grin. “Morning! Ready to make some magic happen?”

You laugh, sitting down across from him. “You bet. I’m excited to get started.”

Sean brings over a pot of coffee and pours you a cup. “So, what’s the plan?”

You spread out your notes, detailing your ideas for improving the garage’s business. “First, I think we should focus on marketing. We need to get the word out more, maybe with some local ads and social media. And I was thinking we could offer a discount for first-time customers to attract more people.”

Sean listens intently, nodding. “That sounds like a solid plan. We’ve mostly relied on word-of-mouth so far, but I think it’s time to step it up.”

Daniel chimes in, “And we could make some flyers and hand them out in town. I can help with that after school.”

You smile at his enthusiasm. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. And I was also thinking we could update the garage’s website, make it more user-friendly and show off some of the work we’ve done.”

Sean grins. “I like it. You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

You shrug modestly. “I just want to help you guys succeed. Plus, I love a good challenge.”

Sean’s eyes twinkle with admiration. “Well, we’re lucky to have you on board.”

You and Sean spend the morning discussing various ideas and strategies, making detailed plans for the next steps. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of teamwork and shared excitement. Daniel, having finished his breakfast, listens in, occasionally chiming in with his own ideas.

“Maybe we could also host some community events at the garage,” Daniel suggests. “Like a car wash fundraiser or something. It would get people to come by and see the place.”

Sean nods, clearly impressed. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. We could raise some money and get more people familiar with what we do here.”

You add, “We could partner with local businesses for these events too. Maybe get some sponsorships and cross-promotions going. It would help build a network.”

As the morning progresses, you delve deeper into the logistics of your plans. Sean shows you around the garage, pointing out areas that could use improvement. You take notes, brainstorming ways to optimize the space and improve workflow.

“We could create a more inviting waiting area for customers,” you suggest. “Maybe add some comfortable seating, magazines, and free Wi-Fi. Make it a place where people don’t mind waiting.”

Sean nods thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to do something about that. It’s a great idea.”

Daniel grins. “And we could have a little corner with snacks and drinks. Everyone loves free snacks.”

You laugh. “Absolutely. It’s all about making the customer experience as pleasant as possible.”

By lunchtime, you’ve covered a lot of ground. Sean looks at you with appreciation. “I’m really impressed with all your ideas. This is going to make a huge difference.”

You feel a warm glow at his words. “I’m glad to be able to help. I really believe in what you’re doing here.”

Sean’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes full of unspoken thoughts. “I’m starting to believe in it even more now, thanks to you.”

The shared moment is interrupted by Daniel’s stomach growling loudly. He laughs, rubbing his belly. “Okay, I think it’s officially lunchtime. How about we hit up the local street food market? We can grab some tacos there and hand out flyers while we’re at it.”

You nod, grateful for the break. “Sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to explore more of the town.”

Sean grabs a stack of freshly printed flyers. “Alright, let’s do this.”

The three of you pile into Sean’s old truck and drive to the bustling street food market in the heart of town. The vibrant colors and tantalizing smells greet you as you step out of the truck. Stalls line the streets, offering everything from sizzling tacos to sweet churros.

Sean hands you a stack of flyers. “Here, let’s spread out and see who we can talk to. Meet back at the taco stand in half an hour?”

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you wander through the market, you hand out flyers and strike up conversations with locals, telling them about the garage’s services and the upcoming community events. The warm reception you receive boosts your confidence.

After half an hour, you make your way to the taco stand where Sean and Daniel are already waiting. Sean hands you a taco with a grin. “I got you the special. Trust me, it’s amazing.”

You take a bite and moan with delight. “Oh wow, this is incredible.”

Daniel laughs. “Told you, the street food here is the best.”

As you eat, the three of you chat about the people you met and the responses you got. Sean seems particularly pleased. “I think this is really going to work. People are interested and excited.”

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I’m glad. This market is amazing, too. Thanks for bringing me here.”

Sean looks at you, his eyes warm. “Anytime. I’m really glad you’re part of this.”

Daniel nudges Sean playfully. “Yeah, we’re glad to have you around. Plus, it’s fun watching you two flirt.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, and Sean chuckles. “Oh, really? And here I thought we were being subtle.”

You laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie. “Well, I’m glad to be here too.”

After lunch, you continue to explore the market, taking in the sights and sounds. Sean and Daniel introduce you to some of their favorite vendors, and you pick up a few treats to take home. The bustling market, with its vibrant stalls and lively atmosphere, is infectious, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the experience.

"Hey, there's this one store I think you'll love," Sean says, leading the way down a narrow alley. "They sell the most random and quirky stuff."

You follow Sean and Daniel to a small, cluttered shop that's packed to the brim with odd trinkets and peculiar items. The shop owner, an elderly man with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, greets you warmly.

"Welcome! Feel free to browse and have fun," he says, motioning to the chaotic array of items.

Daniel is the first to dive in, picking up a rubber chicken and squeezing it to make it squawk. "This place is amazing! Look at this stuff."

Sean chuckles, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses and putting them on. "How do I look?"

You laugh, grabbing a feathered hat and placing it on your head. "Very stylish. I think we’ve found our new look."

The three of you spend the next hour rummaging through the store, trying on silly hats, testing out bizarre gadgets, and laughing at the strange and wonderful items you find. Sean finds an old Polaroid camera and starts taking candid pictures of you and Daniel, capturing the playful moments.

"Say cheese!" Sean calls out as he snaps a picture of you holding a giant stuffed banana.

Daniel grins, holding up a fake mustache. "This is the best day ever."

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie and joy. "I have to agree. This is so much fun."

Sean hands you one of the Polaroids, a picture of the three of you making funny faces. "A keepsake from our random adventure."

You take the photo, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Sean. I’ll treasure this."

After purchasing a few of the more amusing items, including the rubber chicken for Daniel and the Polaroid camera for Sean, you leave the shop and continue to explore the market. The rest of the afternoon is filled with lighthearted moments, laughter, and a growing sense of connection between you, Sean, and Daniel.

As the sun begins to set, you head back to the Diaz house, your bags full of quirky treasures and your hearts full of happiness. The day has been perfect, but Sean has one more surprise in store.

After dropping off your bags and freshening up, Sean pulls you aside. “Hey, I was thinking... Daniel can stay home for a few hours, and there’s this little fiesta in town tonight. It’s something we do every weekend—lots of pretty lights, good music, dancing, and drinks. Would you like to go?”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of spending more time with Sean. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to.”

Sean smiles, looking relieved and excited. He turns to Daniel. “Hey, bud, you okay staying home for a bit? We won’t be gone too long.”

Daniel nods, giving Sean a knowing look. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just don’t embarrass yourself too much, big brother.”

Sean chuckles, ruffling Daniel’s hair. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll be back before you know it.”

As you and Sean head out, the night air is cool and filled with the sounds of the town winding down for the evening. The streets are lit with twinkling lights, and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. You feel a sense of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, but also a thrill of adventure.

The fiesta is in full swing by the time you arrive. Colorful lights are strung across the plaza, and the sound of lively music fills the air. People are dancing, laughing, and enjoying the festive atmosphere.

Sean takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. “I hope you like it. It’s one of my favorite parts of living here.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling a rush of warmth. “It’s beautiful, Sean. Thank you for bringing me.”

He leads you to a small bar where he orders drinks. “Two margaritas, please,” he says to the bartender. Turning to you, he adds with a grin, “These are the best in town. You have to try one.”

You take the drink, clinking glasses with him. “To new adventures.”

“To new adventures,” he echoes, his eyes twinkling in the festive lights.

As the evening progresses, the two of you wander around the fiesta, enjoying the music and the vibrant atmosphere. Sean seems to know everyone, stopping to chat and introduce you to his friends. You feel a sense of belonging, like you’re becoming part of this close-knit community.

After a while, the music shifts to a slower, more romantic tune. Sean turns to you, a playful glint in his eye. “Care to dance?”

You laugh, feeling a bit tipsy from the margaritas. “I’d love to.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. As you dance, the world around you seems to fade away. It’s just you and Sean, moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. His hand on your back feels warm and steady, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” you say, looking up at him.

He chuckles. “I have my moments. But you’re making me look even better.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re just saying that.”

He grins, his eyes locking with yours. “No, I mean it. You’re amazing.”

The flirty banter continues, each compliment and playful tease making your heart race a little faster. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and the festive atmosphere only heightens the connection.

As the night goes on, you and Sean enjoy more drinks, each one making you both a bit more tipsy and carefree. Sean starts showing off his dance moves, and you can’t help but laugh at his playful antics.

You remember when Daniel told you about Sean trying to impress someone with his dancing at a party some time ago. “Oh, so are that the moves Daniel told me all about?” 

Sean, slightly unsteady but grinning widely, gives you a mock offended look. “Hey, I’m just having fun. I thought you’d be impressed.”

You join in the fun, playfully adding, “Yeah, Sean, I’m definitely impressed. You’re giving me some serious moves to aspire to.”

The banter continues, and the two of you laugh and dance together, the evening growing more lively and carefree. The combination of drinks and good company makes everything feel even more enjoyable.

By the time the fiesta starts winding down, you realize that you’re quite tipsy and Sean isn’t much better off. You stumble slightly as you make your way back to the Diaz house, leaning on Sean for support.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how much I’d had,” you giggle, leaning into Sean.

He chuckles, his arm around your shoulders for support. “Yeah, I guess we went a bit overboard. But hey, it was a blast.”

When you arrive at the Diaz house, Sean looks at you with a slightly concerned expression. “I don’t think you should drive home tonight. Maybe you can crash on the couch again?”

You nod, feeling a bit wobbly but content. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Sean helps you settle onto the couch, his touch gentle and comforting. “Let me just... find a blanket,” he says, fumbling through the closet.

You watch him with a grin. “Need any help there, or should I just use my jacket?”

Sean looks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I can manage. But thanks for the offer.”

Eventually, Sean manages to get the blankets sorted out, and you settle in. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion starts to take its toll, and soon, you’re all sprawled out on the couch, trying to get some rest. For a moment Sean just sits besides you, making sure you are comfortable and not about to throw up. 

Just as you’re starting to drift off, Daniel, who had been in his room, comes out and sees you all on the couch. “Can’t believe you two are passed out already,” he says with a grin. “Guess it was a pretty wild night.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, we may have had a bit too much fun.”

Daniel teases Sean, “Careful, Sean. If you keep this up, people might start thinking you’re a lightweight.”

Sean playfully nudges Daniel. “Oh, just wait until you’re older. Then you can join us in the ‘lightweight’ club.”

As the three of you laugh and chat quietly, the warmth of the night, the camaraderie, and the effects of the drinks make it hard to stay awake. Eventually, the conversation fades into comfortable silence, and you drift off to sleep on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of friendship and the lingering buzz of a perfect night out.

After a while, Sean and Daniel quietly rise from their spots on the couch. Sean looks down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “She’s out cold,” he whispers to Daniel.

Daniel, still half-asleep, nods. “Yeah, looks like it. I’ll head to bed now.”

Sean leads the way to their bedrooms, and Daniel follows. The house is quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustle of your breathing and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

As they enter Sean’s room, Daniel glances at his brother, curiosity evident in his eyes. “So, Sean...”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “What’s up, Danny?”

Daniel hesitates, then asks, “Do you think you and her might, you know, become more than friends?”

Sean chuckles softly, shaking his head. “It’s only been a few weeks. I really like her, but it’s way too soon to think about stuff like that.”

Daniel looks thoughtful. “But you do like her, right?”

“Yeah,” Sean admits, his voice warm. “I do like her. She’s great.”

Daniel ponders this for a moment, then asks, “What if she likes you back? Do you think she might want something more?”

Sean leans back against the wall, considering. “I think she enjoys spending time with me, but we’re both still figuring things out. It’s better to take things slow and see where it goes.”

Daniel nods, accepting his brother’s answer. “I guess that makes sense. You don’t want to rush into anything.”

Sean smiles at Daniel’s thoughtful expression. “Exactly. It’s important to build a solid foundation first.”

Daniel then asks, with a hint of teasing in his voice, “So, what if she’s your girlfriend and I become her little brother?”

Sean laughs, nudging Daniel playfully. “We’d all get along just fine. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Daniel grins, clearly amused. “Just wanted to know. It’s not every day I see my big brother with someone who makes him smile like that.”

Sean’s expression softens. “I know. And I’m happy she’s here. We’ll see where things go.”

With that, the two brothers bid each other goodnight. Sean heads to his room, while Daniel retreats to his own. The house settles into a quiet stillness, with only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustle of the breeze outside breaking the silence.

As Sean lies in bed, he thinks about the night’s events and your growing connection. He’s glad to have you in his life, but he knows it’s important to let things develop naturally. He drifts off to sleep, a contented smile on his face, hopeful for what the future might hold.

authors note: this has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far!!! I hope you like this as well <33

[pumpkinpot]

BG3 X farmers market booths

farmers market season is upon us and I am an avid faire/con/market goer. I loved the entire side quest in BG3 involving the traveling circus, and it got me thinking.... What kind of booth or show would each of the bg3 companions have?

There is only a few ways I could see the troupe actually agreeing to participate one is they are really low on funds and the other is an investigation. either works for these ideas.

Roland: He mentions that he has a big interest in making magical education more accessible to the masses so I feel that that would be a bit part of his booth. you know those booths at farmers markets that all sell secondhand books on rolling carts? I feel like that's the vibe. He has posters for magical workshops being hosted at Razmith and cozy chairs for people to sit around under and umbrella and read for a while.

Karalach/ Dammon: they decided to put their skills together and forge artisanal cloak pins and other fineries. its really helpful having someone who can heat the metals so quickly so dammon can craft quicker. Its not long that they have to eventually raise their prices because everyone at the faire wants one of their hair pins or spoon rings.

Astarion/ Scratch: He was offered a place in the kissing booth that he immediately turned down. Of course, his alternative idea was a blood drive. cheeky bastard. in the end he settled for animal handler. Believe it or not, once he no longer had to rely on animals as his food source he found he was quite good with them. He got the idea from constantly having to repair scratches ball, so he decided, with some help from Halsin, to make toys that cannot be destroyed no matter how tuff your pet. He also sells bandanas with tracking spells woven into them and treats that let your dog speak for an hour or two. Him and scratch make an adorable team, people commenting consistently on their matching hair and bandanas. He sells the most of anyone at the fair, followed closely by Halsin.

Halsin: Mans forgot that yall are here to make money. He decided make a booth for pollination education. He has a lepidopterarium for people who want to hold butterflies while he tells them the importance of local wildflowers. Everyone that visits the booth gets a seed bomb. when he was told he actually needed to sell something he settled on honey he harvested. He has to ask you what people mean when they say he's of "beekeeping age," and what "forest daddy" means.

Gale: Idk where this came from really, but I feel like he has a candle booth. but enchanted candles. hear me out. "this candle smells like the first warm day of the year, when the sun touches your skin for the first time in months," o, "this candles you can poor on your skin to heal a pulled muscle or burn," or "this candle influences your dreams and takes you where you want to go."

Blurg/Omeluum: Naturally, they have a mushroom booth. But not just mushrooms. Burg took one culinary class and decided he needed to open a food truck, but everything was mushrooms. fried mushroom poppers, mushroom tacos, balsamic mushroom skewers.. Omeluum is just happy to be able to be in public now with its partner.

My Tav (October): The plan to have a spider booth was shot down pretty quickly, so there needed to be a compromise. October decided to have a crochet booth with tons of different projects like blankets, stuffed animals, cowls etc. but they were all made by spiders. Pino was the only one present for the market and a few people wanted to hold her, though most moved along upon hearing the labour practices of Octs products.

Authors Note: I would love to write a second part to this, I just don't have the spoons at this moment. If you have anything else you'd like to see let me know!

Link to Master list (I do not have a gaming masterlist yet. Hopefully more to come!)

[crooked-wasteland]

With all of this pro-Israel and Free Palestine movement, I've always wished there were ways to support small indie businesses without having to worry about sacrificing food, transportation, technology and stuff all because the companies who own them support Israel in some way. I do apologize for being political but hear me out!

Tumblr, unfortunately, is one of those places where people can get pretty extreme in my opinion such as pushing everyone to not buy McDonald's because you're like giving money to them and boycotting every company that doesn't support Palestine. I feel like these small indie businesses would have to work hard to win more people over and branch out to market themselves across the board.

I remember a post somewhere stating that people need to do their due research and understand how things work before taking action. For example, what if I need to buy food, clothes or a laptop except they're all owned by companies that profit off the war in Gaza? We can't simply boycott them unless there's an alternative.

Also, celebrities are also likely to get criticism because they either endorse a company that doesn't support Palestine or might not be aware of the impact the companies they're working for could have on the region.

I just wanna share this anonymously because I doubt putting this out on my blog where everyone knows who I am isn't exactly the best idea. I don't want people here assuming I'm being generally dismissive. I hope you have a great day and you're free to ignore this if it's not relevant to you.

Thank you for your post Anon, and I completely agree.

There is a pandemic of a lack-of-knowledge on how corporations affect local economies and how small businesses really only survive in middle class and wealthy communities.

The concept of Food Deserts is one many people are unfamiliar with. But big businesses typically enter communities with extremely low prices and wide variety of products, like Walmart for example, to out-compete the smaller businesses in the area. They can afford to swallow the loss in sales by increasing prices in established regions, undermine indie and small businesses and then, once the consumers have no one else they can go to, Jack up the prices.

Capitalism relies entirely on the short memory of consumers. No animal on the planet has less object permanence than a consumer.

Meanwhile, McDonald's isn't really a restaurant chain, but a corporate landlord. The issue with that example in particular is that franchisees may actually dedicate a portion of their earnings towards pro-Gaza groups, but the portion they make that goes to McDonald's will be sent to Israel. In the fires in LA, I saw a picture of a McDonald's on fire and people talking about corporate influence on global warming and had to point out that McDonald's didn't lose much of anything if that location is a franchise. But whoever owns that store has lost everything.

There's so much more to how these companies function, and restaurant franchising is no different than any other gig economy hustle. And the people who lose are the tenuous middle class and the working class.

It's not black and white, and it's all about removing transparency and separating consumers from workers and workers from the means of production. Marx wrote about the economy in Das Kapital how we went from a society of Consuming from need to consuming for the sake of consumption.

Commodity (C) and Money (M) should have always functioned as C-M=C. But we have a world where the exchange is M+C=M. The second M somehow magically created value where there wasn't any before. Chasing a number for the sake of the number going up is genuine insanity.

But point blank, if you are a consumer, there is no such thing as ethical consumption. If you are interested in creating Money and not a Commodity, you're doing society wrong.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

How do you think knight bus works? Like a wizard/witch just puts their arm up and it just detects them?

In OotP Tonks summons the bus so probably you have to think about it but how does Harry summons it in PoA? He had no idea about it's existence then.

Does it use a trace? But you can't put a trace on an adult or it's like some sort of charm like voldemort has put on his bame in DH?

Well, let's see what we're told about it:

If he was already expelled (his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn’t hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father — what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and . . . begin his life as an outcast. [...] Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter — [...] “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve —” The conductor stopped abruptly.

(PoA, 32-33)

“Come on, the quicker we get on the bus the better,” said Tonks, and Harry thought there was nervousness in the glance she threw around the square. Lupin flung out his right arm. BANG. A violently purple, triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost, which jumped backward out of its way.

(OotP, 524)

It seems there isn't really a spell per se, as Lupin doesn't even use his wand and Harry drops his. All you need to do is stick out your hand. And that's exactly what Stan Shunpike tells Harry: "stick out your wand hand and we'll take you anywhere,"

The Knight Bus was commissioned in 1865 according to Pottermore, so unlike The Trace and other such magics, it doesn't work on an ancient, long-forgotten spell. So, let's narrow down what you really need to summon the Knight Bus to figure out how the bus's magic could recognize it:

Stick out your wand hand over the road. This seems to be supported by all accounts of the bus, and Stan's words.

Wish to be transported by the bus. Magic is all about intention in the HP universe, so the desire for transportation likely plays a part here. This is also implied by Remus, Harry, and Stan to be part of it. Before Sirius scared Harry, Harry was thinking about traveling via broom, about how to live his life from this point onwards, so the intention of transportation was there.

So, how can the Knight Bus's magic recognize this?

Honestly, I think this is its own unique spell. We know spells can be created (as Snape came up with quite a few), and we know some spells are intended to be cast silently (like Levicorpus), so why would summoning the Knight Bus not be like that?

You think about summoning the Knight Bus, that's the intention part of the spell and it's meant to be cast silently. The wand movement is to raise your arm over the curb where you want the Knight Bus to appear (instructions for the spells on how to accomplish its intent), so this spell really gives the magic all the information needed to call the Knight Bus.

If it is indeed a spell like I illustrated, it'll make sense Harry could call it by accident. Spells can be cast accidentally, and this spell is probably no different.

This spell is probably enchanted into the Knight Bus to let it know where it is being summoned to. Basically, the wizard/witch who invented the Knight Bus didn't only invent the bus and all the enchantments to allow it to travel the way it does, but also this spell to summon it that can be cast without a wand. I'd guess it's a spell that doesn't require a lot of magic or finesse to really allow everyone to use it. And I think if whoever the inventor was could enchant the Knight Bus itself, it's not far-fetched to believe they could create a spell like that.

At least, that's my best bet.

[jasontoddiefor]

LTIT Isekai Anon here this is just a potential idea and honestly if you do anything with what I sent previously I’d be on my knees before you ready to sell my soul but like picture if you will, and feel free to pick and choose anything from this deranged thought of mine:

I imagine the backstory starts off a lot like canon where Euihyun has a shitty, abusive father and a four year brother he is raising the best he can and a mountain of debt his father only adds to-up until he and his brother get run over by a truck that didn’t see Euiyoung crossing the street and Euihyun failed to shove his brother out of the way and so instead they both get hit instead of one or the other and-

Euihyun and Euiyoung both get reincarnated and isekai’d into a romantic fantasy omegaverse novel that he barely remembers the plot of but read because there had been nothing else to do because a customer left the book behind and he had downtime on his job so Euihyun doesn’t have grand plans or schemes up until he realizes he’s the side character offhandedly mentioned in an impoverished noble family that gets ruined by debt and he’s played this song and dance before and he’s not doing it again, he’s getting the hell out dodge even if he doesn’t have a coin to his name…and oh look there’s a conveniently passed out rich looking dude injured in the woods while he’s about to make his escape with Euiyoung in tow and fine he’ll put it off for a couple days to heal this dude and get some money as a reward. Enough to get him and Euihyun a nice home, maybe one by the sea. He is not aware that he is fully shattered the original plot of the novel beyond repair. Nor does he fully remember anything how this omegaverse thing works, but I’m sure that won’t have lasting consequences on him.

Northern Grand Duke Taeju is a man who’s parents have been on his back to get married to the point it’s slowly driving him to madness and then he’s nearly murdered and the only reason he doesn’t die is because this omega with one of the best scents he’s ever smelled nursed him back to health and is now demanding money for it, so he makes a deal: have a contract marriage with him for a few years and he’ll pay more than enough for him and his brother to live a comfortable life. This will not backfire on him at all. This will not get him attached at all. He’s definitely not going to turn into a horny, pining mess of a simp at all.

(I’m not saying Euihyun is pregnant before the year is out but-)

Euiyoung is 4 so he like barely knows what’s going on and accepts the explanation they are in a new world without technology and they can’t ever tell anyone about their original world pretty easily because it wasn’t like he was using cars or cellphones or really understood electricity and this world has a pretty decent magical substitute, and he likes this new man that took them away from their cruel father and means he can spend all his time with his brother, and he’s vibing for the most part because him and hyung dying after getting hit by that truck was just a bad dream that absolutely wasn’t real and Euihyun doesn’t have nightmares about at all.

Anyway Euihyun finds himself in a mansion bigger than his wildest dreams with an army of servants prepared to wait on his every need with a husband that is thankfully disinterested in him beyond a public show and he’s still on edge, they’ll be leaving here soon enough, just when the contract ends, and it’s cold but not as cold as an apartment without heat and threadbare clothes compared to the warm fireplace and thick furs and hot tea and hot chocolate always available and Euiyoung looks so happy playing in the snow, fed and warm and happier than Euihyun has even seen him and that is enough that maybe is enough for him to lower his guard around the contract husband who’s definitely not going to try and seduce him via immaculately pampering and spoiling his beloved baby brother. That would be ridiculous.

But maybe I’m just crazy

anon if you are i'm joining you <3

and this is SO good. i am obsessed. 10/10.

I can only imagine Taeju waking up like "where the fuck am I" and like. It's a nicer noble house but it for sure has seen some better days and is definitely not the forest he was hunting uuh a demon in? got nearly assassinated at in? something like that.

And then he meets his maybe-kidnapper-maybe host, who serves him a meal that seems less "you're sick so here you go" and more "we didn't have any more vegetables" and also what is a young lord doing serving a guest instead of a servant?

There are no servants, he learns a little later, as the head of the house is gone and funds have run out and all that's left is his definitely-host, who, rather conveniently he thinks, is of marriagable age, and his prospective-fiancé's little kid brother.

(The kid seems rather distressed that he lost his favorite toy? Some kind of lion from a show? Taeju is not aware of any theater shows with lions but he's also not interacting with children on the regular. But the kid babbles a lot at him while his genius-plan brother is gauging the prices of things to sell in the mansion.)

So once he's all healed up, and before his family can start tracking him down, Taeju pitches this: I need a spouse, just for year or two so my parents will shut up about me being single. I'll pay off your debt in turn. If I die before we divorce, you'll be paid handsomely. How about it?

And Euihyun, desperate, but not fucking stupid says, "yeah right" and "if you can't pay me now, just drop some coin off tomorrow" but does not actually expect this gesture of goodwill to pay off. He should've just taken rich guy's coat and sold it in the next village over.

"Tomorrow then," our dear bastard agrees and does show up the next day, in the carriage with the grand duchy's seal, pretending for all his servants to see that he fell in lust love at first glance with his sweet omega savior.

oh man anon im gonna have to re read the manhwa I remember like nothing about what exactly taeju's family and structure was like. besides that his dad is hilarious

[sibillascribbles08]

Babysitting

Morning, I actually wrote a HypnoWarren fic, sort of. They're already married by this point so

Note the fic also established Jasonnie so if you can't stand that uuuuh sorry bye

Hypno let out a sigh as he sunk into the giant, plush sofa in the living room. He had half a mind to turn on the TV, but after a morning filled with the joyful screams of children at the nearby kindergarten, he preferred the silence. Besides, the light was on over Warren’s door which meant he was currently recording. The less noise the better. 

The silence kind of made him want to nap. Maybe just a quick one. He did have to wake up early to get ready, after all.

But just then he heard the faint creak of a door. Hypno glanced down the hall to see one of Warren’s doors open, the light up top going off.

One of his doors, because two smaller ones were built into the main door. 

When Donatello built this apartment complex, he took great care to renovate all the flats to accommodate whatever mutants wanted to move in. So for the worm’s bedroom—in which all the furniture was designed for his small size to the point it was practically a house—had a door up top for him to hover out of, and a door on bottom for him to crawl out of.

The upper door opened this time, and Warren hovered into the hall on the little hover scooter that Donatello also built. The worm mainly just used it to get around the building. Otherwise he just sat on Hypno’s shoulder. 

Warren looked like he was going to head to the bathroom, but then his gaze met Hypno’s and he smiled.

“You’re home earlier than I thought.” The scooter shot across the room and stopped next to the sofa. “How were the kids?”

“Eh, could have been worse.” Hypno didn’t hesitate to pick his husband up and put him on his shoulder. The hover scooter gently drifted down onto an empty cushion. “Got the new episode recorded?”

“You bet.” Warren beamed, hands on where his hips would be if he still had them. “I was excited to get to work on it this week. Breaking news, famous chef making a comeback with a new restaurant for mutants and yōkai alike.” 

Hypno’s ears perked up. “Oh gosh, is the opening next week? We gotta go down and tell Rupert congrats.”

Warren waved a hand. “Way ahead of you. We can tell him on opening night, I got us a reservation. A romantic date and a chance to do a follow up report with a review. The listeners are gonna love it.”

‘Listeners’ referred to the hundreds of mutants and yōkai who tuned into Warren’s weekly news podcast. Not the same as being an anchorman, he often insisted, but it was familiar enough that he enjoyed it. He had fans again, and a means to earn them some extra income. 

Plus, mutants and yōkai in the city had been complaining for a while about their lack of personal news outlets. It’s where Warren got the idea in the first place. 

“I’m just proud of Rupert.” Hypno leaned back against the sofa. “Took him so long to give up all that crime stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, even if Orange Boy hadn’t enticed him with that deal, I’m pretty sure the power houses those turtles turned into would have changed his mind.”

No kidding. Hypno was glad he and Warren started going on the mend years ago. After ruining Leo’s first magic show and having to work at a bagel shop to pay it off, the slider actually did something nice by giving Hypno some work recommendations. With a far more reliable and legal source of income, he and Warren didn’t have to stress too much about a living space.

And when Donnie built this first apartment complex, well, that just sweetened the deal. No insane rent costs. As long as you paid your portion of the utilities and for any damages you caused, the rent was rather low.

He supposed the owner of a very successful tech company didn’t really need the extra money. 

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Warren knocked Hypno’s top hat off and climbed up on his head. His tiny fingers played with the hippo’s hair. “I need to get to editing that audio, but I can do it tonight. Should we go to the park or something?” 

Hypno thought about it for a bit, and was going to fire back a reply, when someone knocked on the door. He immediately turned his head to the right, forcing Warren to look that way as well. 

“Who could that be?” The worm muttered. His tone obviously frustrated that they were interrupted.

Hypno got up. “Possibly just a neighbor who ran out of something in their spice cabinet.” It happened more than once. Especially considering that while mutant sightings were common these days, going to the grocery store was still an ordeal. 

Hypno didn’t even peek outside before opening the door. He was a bit surprised to see Donatello standing there, but not by much. The turtle lived just a few doors down. 

“Oh thank goodness you’re home.” Donnie's eyes looked absolutely exhausted as he closed them and clasped his hands together. 

“Sure are, Flapjack,” Warren said. “Need a favor?” 

“I know this is extremely short notice. But could the two of you watch Holly this afternoon?”

Now that did surprise Hypno. He knew Holly, of course. He’d seen the infant turtle more than once—mainly because her dads could not stop showing her off—but baby sitting? 

“You sure you want us to do that?” Hypno pointed to himself.

Donnie groaned. “Look, Draxum is at work. Holly Blue and Jason are also at work and stuff has gone absolutely off the walls there. They need my help. The sooner I get over there the better so trying to drag one of my siblings over to watch her isn’t an easy option. You guys live right over here.”

Hypno didn’t know if it was worth bringing up their history considering they hadn’t fought in, what, a decade at least. 

Still, “I don’t know all that much about infant care.”

Donnie kept running his hands over his face. “Not a problem. She doesn’t act like a typical infant. It’s super easy, I promise, if you guys are free at least.”

“Well—”

“We’re not doing it for free.” Warren mumbled.

“Warren.”

“What?”

“No, it’s fine.” Donnie waved a hand. “If you do this, I’ll waive your water bill for the month.” 

The hippo balked at that. Not having to pay for water? That meant he could take as many long soaks in the tub as he wanted. He usually tried to limit it—despite how badly his skin needed it—due to, well, how much water he had to use per bath. 

Warren must know exactly what he was thinking, because the worm snapped his fingers. “Deal. Show us what we’ve gotta do.” 

“Sure.” The turtle nodded. “Grab anything you think you might need and meet me over there.” He turned and left.

Hypno wasn’t sure they’d need much, and they could always just hop back over here if they did, but Warren insisted they grab a couple of those canned coffee drinks just in case. He also insisted Hypno change out of his work clothes.

Yeah, that was fair. 

Now with a much more casual button up, Hypno carried Warren and the coffees over to Donnie’s apartment. The door was propped open so they let themselves in.

Always so surreal how different it looked despite the similar floor layout. Where Hypno and Warren’s apartment was decorated wall to wall with posters and had silly nicknacks and props in every corner, Donnie and Jase’s apartment looked far more sleek. The fancy TV and speaker system, the massive massage recliner chair, and all the purples made it feel like something on a sci-fi themed cruise ship. 

But as they followed Donnie to Holly’s room, the entire vibe shifted. At present, the tiny turtle baby mostly stayed in a personalized tank. Not that it was small by any stretch of the word. The tank was custom built, taking up half the room. The entire thing was built in a U shape—likely so you could reach her from anywhere while giving her plenty of space to move around. While some areas looked like a traditional tank, with sand, plants and water, the other half looked like a tiny bedroom. Blankets, pillows, and toys were scattered all over it. 

Hypno wondered where the child even was, but the smallest squeak alerted him. He finally spotted her pressing her hands against the glass wall as Donnie reached in and picked her up. 

She was definitely bigger than the last time Hypno saw her, but still tiny enough to fit in the turtle’s hand, and therefore Hypno’s as well. 

“Okay,” Donnie began, eyes unfocused. “You guys know Holly. Holly, this is Hypno and Warren.”

The baby turtle didn’t even look in their direction. Her attention was completely fixed on her father.

“Good news, you don’t have to bottle feed her. She knows how to drink water and eat solid food, though I recommend you chop it up small for her. There’s a number of containers in the fridge labeled for her, just pick what you like.” Donnie pointed to a pair of bowls in one part of the tank, then a bottle that hung from the glass. “She has water in more than one location, food goes in that bowl.”

“Kinda sounding more like pet sitting than babysitting,” Warren mumbled. 

Hypno gave his shoulder a sharp shrug to jostle his husband.

“What?”

“No, you’re right,” Donatello sighed. “But truthfully, even if the mechanics are different it’s not that far removed from raising a human baby. Moving on.” He pointed at Holly, more specifically at the cloth wrapped around her bottom half. “Diapers. We have to custom make them and they’re all cloth. We keep clean ones in that drawer.” He pointed to the dresser that was barely visible over the array of fabrics. Were those just the ones not yet cut up? “Used ones go in that hamper.” He pointed to what looked more like a trashcan than an actual laundry hamper. Probably for smell reduction. “Any questions so far?” 

Warren asked, “Do we just leave her in the tank?”

“Pretty much. She’s allowed to wander around this room but only this room. We haven’t baby proofed the rest of the apartment.” 

“So why call us?”

“Because she eats. A lot. And she can also get bored pretty easily. And also I just worry a lot about something going incredibly wrong if one of us aren’t around.” His eyes went so wide they looked like they might fall out. Then one of them twitched.

Hypno would suggest the guy take a nap, but that would probably be rejected immediately. 

“It’s just the afternoon.” Donnie lowered Holly back into the tank. She let out a few high pitched squeaks of protest. “Jason and I should be back at six at the latest.” 

Six? That was more like the whole day considering lunch hadn’t even passed. 

But this did seem like a fairly low stress task. Make sure she didn’t hurt herself, toss around some magic to keep her entertained, order some delivery for them to eat?

And also, no water bill for the month. 

“We’ve got it.” Warren answered. “Go do what you need to do.” 

“Right.” Donatello nodded and went for the door. “You have my number if you have any questions or there’s an emergency or—”

“We’ve got it.” Warren insisted. “Go help your husband out.” 

Another nod. Hypno peeked out into the hallway to watch Donnie leave. The turtle gave him a few looks, one more curious and the final one deathly serious. As if to give a brief warning of, “Nothing better happen to my daughter or else.” 

And yeah, Hypno knew that. In fact, what worried him the most about this was if something did go wrong, Donatello could blast him and Warren into the next country. 

It’d be fine. Low stress.

Hypno went back into the room and sat on the floor. At least there were plenty of cushions around here to use. Holly was already moving about her tank. She went straight for the big pool of water and dove right in. 

“Yeesh, four-month old is already swimming.” Warren slid off Hypno’s shoulder and onto his lap. “I bet she’ll be walking in another month.”

Quite possible given that the turtle was already crawling. 

“Did you put those coffees in the fridge when you came in?”

Hypno shook his head and got up. “Nah, let me go do that. I’ll locate the food too while I’m at it. Make sure I know where to find it.” 

He found the cans still sitting on the small table in front of the sofa where he left them. Hypno picked them up and went to open the fridge. The frigid space was far more organized than his, but not to the point it looked unnatural. Donnie wasn’t kidding either, multiple containers had Holly’s name tapped on the top. Hypno picked up a couple to glance at the contents from the bottom. Looked like sardines, ham slices, and even peeled shrimp. 

Hypno put them back and returned to the bedroom. Warren managed to pile some of the cushions together for him to climb up to look into the glass of the tank. Holly pressed herself against it as well, staring at him with her tiny eyes.

“Keeping her entertained, Love?” Hypno stood behind him.

Warren smiled when he looked back. “She seems to be enjoying the silly faces, at least. Why don’t you see how she reacts to some magic?”

Well, why not? Hypno leaned over the top of the tank. Holly almost fell over when she tried to look at him, appearing a bit more nervous. 

Then Hypno reached into his sleeve and plucked a flower out of nowhere. The child didn’t laugh or clap, like most children did, but those small eyes widened. Hypno lowered the flower into the tank and she instantly reached for it. Her little fingers wrapped around one of the petals and then she tried to bite it.

Only to quickly reel back and stick out her tongue. 

Hypno and Warren both chuckled and he pulled the flower back out. Just in case eating it wouldn’t be good for her. 

“Man, this is gonna be the easiest job of our lives.” Warren snapped his fingers.

Hypno shook his head. “Don’t count your rabbits, Love.”

—-------------------------

Well, at least so far it was going well. 

The kid really did get bored easily. She needed as much stimulation as some of the toddlers Hypno would do tricks for. And he mainly took the charge for that, on account of the fact he could summon tons of colorful flowers, sashes, and even balloons. He did make the mistake of popping one, however, which resulted in Holly hiding under a few pillows for a solid ten minutes.

Warren lured her out with a snack. She seemed to really enjoy the peeled shrimp. 

The biggest problem came from diaper changing, but that was mainly because Warren had to do it with his smaller hands and he had to complain about it the entire time. 

Hypno could see right through him, however. Especially after the anchorman washed his hands and picked the kid up to return her to the tank. Her little hands touched his face and she squeaked and the worm melted in an instant. 

Maybe it was just due to the rare occurrence that Warren met anyone smaller than him these days. Even human babies were typically larger. 

“News flash.” Warren posed as he held her. “The most handsome man in the world spotted with the most adorable child in the world. Ron, take a picture.” He waved his free arm. 

Hypno chuckled and took a few shots. “Let’s not turn her into a photo op, Love.” 

“Are you kidding, she was built for the camera.” Warren held her up and she giggled. 

But not long after that, the kid got wiped out. Hypno placed her in the tank where she immediately curled up in a nest of blankets. The sight of it was so cute, Hypno took another photo. He sent that one to Donnie, just in case the guy needed some reassurance. A miracle the turtle wasn’t spamming them with texts asking if she was safe. 

Donnie replied with a heart emoji, then a thanks, and then a message saying that Jase appreciated it too. 

Hypno added some details about how well it was all going.

“Well, with her asleep we should take a break.” Warren scooted toward the door. “How about a snack and those coffees?” 

“I’d feel bad taking their food.” Hypno stood. “I think I’ll hop back over to our place to grab something. You good with getting to the kitchen?”

Warren rolled his eyes. “Oh I can get to the kitchen just fine. Getting to the coffees… might be tricker.”

Hypno chuckled and opened the door. “I won’t be long.” 

And he wasn’t. They hardly locked their doors in this building so it was simple to grab a couple of apples for himself and a bag of Warren’s favorite chips. 

He returned to Donnie’s apartment and got the coffees out of the fridge before placing them and his husband all on the table. They ate and drank and chatted about weekend plans. 

Only about thirty minutes later, when they finished up, Hypno went back to the bedroom to see the door open.

“Warren, did you not shut this?” He glanced at the worm on his shoulder. 

His husband crossed his arms. “Why should I? Kid is fast asleep and she can’t get out of that tank anyway.”

Hypno’s ears went back as he went inside. “Better safe than sorry, you know?”

“Come on, Babe. The kid is right—” Warren pointed down to the blanket nest, but it was empty. “Er…”

Despite the stab of panic, Hypno didn’t let it consume him. The tank was huge. The kid could have gotten up and wandered somewhere else in it. But after searching back and forth in there—and turning over every pillow or other large object she could hide under—they found nothing. Hypno even dug into the sand at the bottom of the pool. 

“Did she get out?” Warren shouted. “How?” 

Hypno darted over to the door to shut it. Just in case the kid was still in here. “It doesn’t matter. Start looking. If Donnie finds out we lost his daughter we are going to get launched to the next state.”

“Donnie?” Warren raised his voice even higher. “Are you kidding? You think Donnie is the threat here?”

For a second Hypno wasn’t even sure what his husband meant. 

Then he immediately recalled the short lived mess where Donnie got kidnapped by some business rivals. He recalled the look on Jason’s face when he left the building that day. And he recalled the news report less than an hour later of a massive dragon tearing a warehouse down to nothing but scrap. 

Hypno put his hands on his head. “Jase is gonna have his dragon rip us to shreds.”

“Just start looking!” 

Hypno did. He let his husband focus on the floor while he checked everything else. He didn’t rule out the shelves, cabinets or even the drawers. He tossed aside every piece of clothing, every box, and even tipped over the empty water pitcher just in case. 

They still found nothing.

“I’m going to start looking outside.” Hypno tossed the door open and went into the hall.

On the bright side, all the other room doors were closed, including the bathroom. So that meant Holly had to have crawled into some place in the living room or the kitchen. 

Hypno crawled around on the floor, looking under the sofa, the chairs, and even peeking under the rugs. Then he checked the TV stand, every shelf and behind any of the blocks of machinery. Still nothing.

Eventually Warren came out to help. Hypno hoped that his much smaller husband would have an easier time checking out the more cramped areas, but it still didn’t work. Damn it, Holly was so small. Could she have fit into the ventilation. Oh no! They’d never be able to get her out of there. 

“What do we do?” The panic was definitely getting to him now. “Warren, what do we do?”

“I don’t know.” The worm snapped back, just about as good at dealing with stress as he was. “Wait. Wait! Newsflash!”

“What?”

“The shrimp.” He pointed to the fridge. “She loves that stuff. Pull some out, maybe we can lure her.” 

A brilliant plan as any right now. Hypno got out the container and gave a piece of the shellfish to Warren who sneered at the smell of it. Still, he began to crawl around, waving it.

Hypno did the same, though in the kitchen this time. He was still on the floor, praying that the tiny child hadn’t found a way to climb up on the counters or something. There were knives up there! 

As he moved closer to the fridge, he heard a squeak.

Hypno’s ear and then his face turned toward the noise in an instant. “Holly? Is that you, Love? Come here.” He waved the piece of shrimp closer, hoping the smell was strong enough. 

Another squeak, a bit louder. Then finally the tiny turtle wiggled her way out from underneath the fridge.

Just how did she get under there? When?

Hypno snatched her up in an instant. Holly squeaked in surprise and even struggled for a second. 

“Warren, I got her.”

“Oh thank goodness.” The worm shouted. “Let’s get her back.”

Hypno headed in that direction, but then realized just how much dust and grime Holly had picked up on her little adventure. “Maybe we should give her a quick wash first.”

“Fine, but make it quick.” Warren reached up. “We need it so her dads have no idea this happened by the time they get home.”

Hypno agreed. He handed Holly the shrimp—that she kept reaching for—and then put his husband on his shoulder. He carried them both to the bathroom where he plopped Holly in the sink. Donnie didn’t give them any bath instructions, but there was a tiny basket on the counter with some light soap and a soft brush. 

Warren handed her the other shrimp and turned the sink on. “I hope she doesn’t splash a lot.”

Hypno chuckled. “Don’t count your rabbits.” 

—----------------------------

One messy bath later and a lengthy dry off—which was mostly Warren trying to fix his soaked shirt—the pair returned Holly to the tank.

Upon which her method of escape soon became clear. As soon as they left her in there, Holly stepped away from the glass only to take a running leap at it. She tried to grab the edge, but missed it, smacking into the glass instead. 

“Hm, Donnie’s going to have to make the walls higher.” Warren pointed to one of the pillows. “Kid is too smart. Prop one of those up so she doesn’t bruise herself.”

Hypno did. And it sort of worked, with Holly crashing into the plush material instead. 

“How does she still have energy?” The hippo sighed. “No wonder Donnie looks so wiped out.” Even he was feeling it at this point. 

Thankfully, after a few more failed jumps, Holly gave up. With a tiny yawn she fell back asleep on the blankets, and this time Hypno kept watching her to make sure she stayed there. Warren climbed onto his lap as he sat, also flopping over like he’d take a nap. 

Hypno began to doze himself, but then he heard the front door open. 

The hippo sat up straight, jostling his husband in the process. Warren complained, but didn’t protest as he got picked up and placed on Hypno’s shoulder. 

He opened the door right when Donnie got to it. 

“Hey,” the turtle didn’t look any less tired. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” Hypno gave a nervous laugh. He waved at Jase who came up behind Donnie, then stepped aside as the guy came into the room to kneel next to the tank. “You guys might want to raise the walls a bit though. Seems she’s learning how to jump out.” 

“What?” Donnie groaned. “She’s barely grown two inches since she’s hatched but she’s doing this?”

“Are you really surprised?” Jase carefully lifted his sleeping daughter out of the tank, cradling her in his hands. “Your dad did say you guys were escaping into all kinds of places as babies.” 

“Yeah, but he didn’t have a custom built tank.” 

“We’ll just put a few extra inches of cushioning to block her.” Jase shook his head. “Thanks for babysitting, guys.”

“Yeah, of course.” Hypno smiled and glanced at the two of them. They both looked beyond exhausted. “Anytime, actually. You guys look like you could use the break.” 

“Probably,” Donnie admitted. “But we knew what we signed up for.”

“Still,” Jase added. “We could probably allow someone else to watch her for a bit by this point.”

“After I adjust the tank.”

“Of course.” 

Hypno chuckled at their usual banter.

“Well, this was fun.” Warren snapped a finger. “But I’m hungry. Have you guys eaten?” 

“Nah,” Jase sighed. “Came here right after work.”

“Oh, let us go get Chinese then.” Hypno slipped past Donnie. “Our treat.”

“Our treat?” Warren scoffed.

“Well, they are paying our water bill this month.” 

“Fine, fair enough.” He waved a hand. 

Hypno looked back at his neighbors. “Is that good with you guys?”

“Well I definitely don’t want to cook,” Jase said. “So yeah. Just get our usuals.” 

Hypno gave them a thumbs up and headed out of their apartment and toward the stairs.

Warren was oddly quiet on the way down the steps. Usually he loved to ramble after such a chaotic event.

Hypno shrugged his shoulders to nudge him a bit. “Something on your mind?”

“Hm?” His husband blinked. “Well, no, maybe. Mostly tired. Just made me think um…” He kept looking up as he tapped his chin. “Did you uh… ever want to have kids?”

Hypno’s ears went up. “What brought this up?”

“We just babysat one.”

“I know but… did you want to have them?”

“Not really?” The worm cringed when he said that. “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t hate it, but it’s not something I really want to do either. But we still haven’t talked about it even though we got married years ago so…”

“Ah, I guess that makes sense.” Hypno opened the side door and stepped out onto the street. “Can’t say it’s something I really want to do either. Sides, I think helping look after that little one will be more than enough.” 

Warren chuckled, a genuine smile on his face as he leaned against Hypno’s head. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

[oflights]

Hi Allie! Love your fics and your prompt fills are great so far! If you still have room for more prompts, do you want to write something about time travel? Your time travel story in hockey RPF is one of my favorite fanfics ever and I would love to see your Drarry take. No pressure, though!

ahh hi, hello!! i have to tell you that this ask kind of broke my brain a little and gave me a new idea (not a Time Traveler's Wife AU, god, never again, bless u though) that i think is probably, sort of, maybe possibly going to turn into a real fic at some point? maybe?

here's 1.6k words of it for now hahaha. this is: professional time traveler draco who goes on an assignment back to the late 80s in surrey and maybe, sort of, possibly, accidentally kidnaps 7-year-old harry potter back to his time. yeah. enjoy? more to come someday???

Draco waits in an anxious crouch at the hearth, thighs straining, cursing himself for not just giving in to his aching back and getting on all fours. Not that that’s great for his knees—and Draco loves doing this mental exercise in his 30s, he really does, it’s—

“What do you want?” Blaise asks when he activates his Floo. He’s sitting with his legs slung over the arm of a chair, a book in his hands—upside down, because he’d definitely just picked it up and posed like that to answer the Floo. Draco rolls his eyes, face turned downward.

“Can you, erm, come over? Right now?”

“Right now?” Blaise echoes lazily. “I thought you were on assignment.”

“Right, I was, but I’m back now, and—”

“I hardly even noticed.”

Now Draco really rolls his eyes, and does not hide it; he doesn’t have the patience for this routine. “You are aware that when I’m on assignment, no time passes for you because I return directly to the moment in time where I first traveled from, right? So of course you wouldn’t have noticed, you never notice, and you just—look. Never mind. I need you to come over, right now.”

Now Blaise pinches the bridge of his nose with a frown. “Ugh. All that talk gives me a headache, you know that, Draco. Not the best way to get me to agree to your demands.”

“What if you agree to my demands because if you don’t, I will go over there and drag you through the Floo by your ear—”

“I’ve a full stone on you; unless you can time magic your way into some upper body strength—”

“I will get Greg and make him do it. Blaise.” Blaise finally looks up, the frown lingering. “I’m not joking. Please come here.”

For a moment, Blaise frowns deeply enough that it seems as if he is going to agree. He even puts down the book he’s not reading.

And then he gives Draco a slow, honeyed grin. “What’s in it for me?”

It takes the promise of a few good bottles of wine, a vow to join Blaise and his mother for tea with the latest stepfather, and all the money Draco has in his pocket—over 100 Galleons, unfortunately—to coax Blaise through the Floo. By then, Draco’s back is aching and it cracks ominously when he stands up, but the drops his hands from it as soon as Blaise steps through.

“All right,” Blaise says with a heavy sigh. “What’s so urgent?”

“It’s—I just—see, the thing is—” Draco paces, wringing his hands together, wincing at how sweaty they are. “It’s just that—oh, bollocks. I just need to show you.” Draco grabs Blaise by the wrist, ignoring his look of appalled offense, and marches him down the hall to the drawing room, where he casts a Notice-Me-Not and inches open the door. “Look,” he whispers, and Blaise pokes his head through and sucks in a breath.

“Is that—” Blaise says, and Draco shushes him quickly and shoves him back as the child looks up, frowning. He’s been frowning since Draco first saw him, hadn’t even stopped when Draco brought him here and scrounged up every abandoned toy Pansy’s girls or Teddy had ever left behind and presented them to him. He’d frowned when Draco asked him if he wanted something to eat, frowned harder when Draco had practically run to the kitchen to throw a jam sandwich together with shaking hands because he knew that, despite what the child said, he was surely hungry, he had to be, he—

“Sorry,” Draco says hastily as 7-year-old Harry Potter turns his frown in the direction of the cracked open door, ending the Notice-Me-Not. “Just, ah, checking on you. Everything all right?”

Harry just keeps frowning. He’s got a small soft toy in the form of a dragon in his hands, but he drops it on the tea table as Draco’s eyes sweep over it, placing his hands quickly in his lap. The plate from the sandwich is utterly empty, devoid even of crumbs, and the glass of milk is similarly drained, and Harry’s eyes flash to them with a guilt that shouldn’t be there, sending another fissure of heartbreak through Draco.

“Another sandwich?” he asks, knowing the answer he’s going to get and knowing the answer that’s true.

Harry shakes his head, the barest hint of movement; his tiny, too-thin shoulders are hunched. Draco takes a steadying breath, gives a firm, determined nod, and says, “I’ll be right back.”

He pushes back, where Blaise is stood to the side now, gaping. “Come on,” Draco whispers. “I’ll explain while I make him another sandwich.”

“Draco,” Blaise says urgently as he follows Draco on another dash to the kitchen. “Tell me that’s not Harry Potter.”

“It’s not Harry Potter,” Draco says in an utterly flat, emotionless voice. Blaise groans out loud.

“It’s finally happened. You’ve lost your mind completely; that job of yours has smoothed out every remaining wrinkle in your brain. Pansy was right, we should’ve staged an intervention years ago, it’s our fault, really—”

“It is, I’m in complete agreement,” Draco says, nodding vigorously as he slams into the swinging kitchen door. Everything to make the jam sandwich is still laid out on the bench, so he slices bread with shaking hands and then turns the knife on Blaise, a glob of jam trembling at the end of it. “I’ll have that intervention now, if it’s on offer.”

“It’s a bit bloody late for it, isn’t it?” Blaise says, rubbing his hands over his face. “Is he—that’s not adult Potter on potions, is it? Is this not as bad as I think it is?”

“No, and no, it’s definitely much worse than you think it is,” Draco says as he scrapes butter up on his knife and then scrapes it over the bread rather desperately. “It’s—look.” The knife drops with a clatter, and Draco whips out his pocket watch, shoving it under Blaise’s nose.

Blaise squints down at it. “I—Draco, you know I haven’t the foggiest what any of these mad instruments say. What am I looking at?”

“Do you see that ticking hand there? The green one?” Draco asks, jabbing his finger at it. “That’s our timeline. And the rest—all the different colored hands—those are other timelines. Sometimes I go to them to fix—things, aberrations, events falling too far out of control. Sometimes I go and—and destroy them, and the hands disappear. And sometimes I just go back in my timeline, the green timeline, and go on assignment, and I get bored because my assignment is in a horrible place called Little Whinging, Surrey, and I have time to kill—don’t laugh—and I decide to peek in on my old school rival and see if I can find any fun childhood embarrassments to make fun of for the next time he forgets who I am and tries to drunkenly hit on me at the pub—”

“Oh, good god, Draco.”

“—you know, when he calls me Dresden and asks where I went to school because he would’ve remembered—”

“It’s pathetic and absurd that you’re still completely fucking hung up on that, Draco, it was months ago—”

“Vengeance takes time!”

“Kidnapping someone from the past is a little far for vengeance! You are insane!”

“No, it’s not—” Draco takes a shuddering breath and turns back to the sandwich, struggling to unscrew the jam jar while still holding the pocket watch. “This isn’t vengeance. You didn’t see—I didn’t know—”

“Know what? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“It was—they treated him horribly, Blaise, I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—”

Draco hears Blaise suck in a harsh, shocked breath. “So this is—bloody hell. You’re not planning on sending him back?”

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to—look.” He whirls around with the watch again and points at a different hand. “See that—that tiny hand, the little red one? That’s a new timeline. It appeared when I brought him back here.”

Blaise stares at him in utter shock, more genuine emotion on his face that Draco’s ever seen. “So you created a new timeline, all on your own? Have you ever done that before?”

“Of course not. It’s utterly forbidden, it’s disastrous, I may have broken the universe. It’s—it’s the end of my time-traveling career.” Draco’s voice breaks on the last few words, and he turns back to the bench, wrenching the jam jar open, piling jam on top of the butter and then pulling out a new plate to serve it on. A flick of his wand and there’s a new glass, milk pouring into it, splashing out a little where Draco can’t keep a steady hand. His breathing is coming fast and a little wheezy.

“What are you going to do?” Blaise asks in a hushed, pitying voice.

Draco thinks about it for a second, trembling in his kitchen. A thousand different scenarios are flaring out in his mind, all the possibilities—he’s always thinking in multiple timelines in his line of work, always considering every possible outcome and calculation and consequence. It brings up an unpleasant buzzing in his head, rushing in his ears, and he has to take a deep, deep breath.

Then he sets the sandwich plate and the glass of milk to Levitate by the door, puts the pocket watch on the bench, picks up the knife, and brings the hilt of it down onto the face of the watch, smashing it to pieces that scatter all around them, dozens of colorful hands and gears and shattered pieces of glass, time strewn all about.

“Right now, I’m going to give that child a jam sandwich,” Draco says.

[bigvee1]

Withdrawing Liquidity: A Simple and Straightforward Guide

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the idea of withdrawing funds from a liquidity pool, you're not alone. But here's the thing—it’s actually a lot simpler than it seems. Think of it like cashing out from your savings account, but with a few extra steps to make sure everything goes smoothly.

So, if you’re wondering how to pull your liquidity out of the pool, don’t worry—I’ll break it down for you step by step.

What Does “Withdrawing Liquidity” Really Mean

Let’s start with the basics. When you provide liquidity to a pool, you’re essentially lending your crypto to the pool so that others can trade. In return, you earn a portion of the fees from those trades.

Now, when you want to take your crypto back, you simply withdraw the liquidity you’ve provided. It’s like putting your money in a high-interest account and then deciding to take it out when you're ready to use it—plus, you’re taking some of the earnings with you!

Here’s How You Withdraw Liquidity: It’s Easier Than You Think

1. Find Your Pool

The first thing you need to do is head over to the Pools section of the platform. From there, click on the My Pools tab, and you’ll see all the pools where you’ve added your crypto. It’s kind of like checking your bank accounts to see where your money is stored.

2. Select the Pool You Want to Withdraw From

Next, choose the pool you want to withdraw from. On that pool’s page, you’ll see a Withdraw button at the bottom. This is where the magic happens—like choosing which account you want to take money from.

3. Decide How Much You Want to Take Out

Once you click Withdraw, a window will pop up that lets you select how much of your liquidity you want to withdraw. If you want to take everything out, just choose MAX.

It’s like being at the ATM: you can choose to withdraw all your cash or just a portion of it.

4. Confirm and Complete the Withdrawal

Finally, click on Withdraw Liquidity and confirm the transaction in your wallet. Just like confirming a bank transfer, you’ll need to make sure you have enough TON in your wallet to cover the blockchain fees. This is like paying a small fee to withdraw from an ATM.

A Few Things to Keep in Mind

What You’re Getting Back

When you withdraw your liquidity, you’re not just getting back the initial amount you put in. You’re also taking home a share of the trading fees that have accumulated while your crypto was in the pool. So, it’s like not just getting back your deposit, but also the interest you’ve earned over time.

Beware of Impermanent Loss

Here’s something to keep in mind: there’s a concept called impermanent loss. In simple terms, this means that the value of your tokens might change compared to what they were when you initially added them to the pool.

Let’s say you put $100 worth of two assets—let’s say Bitcoin and Ethereum—into the pool. If the price of Bitcoin goes up but the price of Ethereum stays the same, your total value when you withdraw might be less than you would’ve had if you just held the Bitcoin on its own. But don’t panic! The trading fees you earned can help offset this loss.

Why It’s Important to Understand

When I first got into DeFi, I didn’t fully understand how liquidity pools worked or how to withdraw my funds properly. It felt like a complicated process. But over time, I realized it’s pretty similar to managing savings and investments in the traditional financial world—you just need to get comfortable with how it works.

Now, after seeing the benefits firsthand, I’m all about helping others navigate this space and take control of their investments. The more you learn about DeFi, the easier it gets to make informed decisions.

Final Thoughts

Withdrawing liquidity doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s all about understanding the steps and the little things to keep in mind, like transaction fees and impermanent loss. If you follow the steps, you’ll be able to withdraw your funds just like you would any other investment.

If you have any questions or need help understanding a part of the process, feel free to drop a comment below. We’re all in this together, and I’m happy to share what I’ve learned to make your DeFi journey easier.

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing ch13

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

-

While it was a relief to put another small town, and the dangers it contained, behind them, John had to admit that he was a bit disappointed to pass up another opportunity to sleep in a proper bed. They were still managing to keep their spirits up, though. They’d managed to stop at the market and stock up on fresh ingredients without any trouble, and Martin was excitedly discussing what he could make with it all, and it was making John so damned hungry. 

“You’d better stop,” John said. “Otherwise I might insist we set up camp right here in the middle of the road so you can start cooking immediately.”

“I wouldn’t be able to make half of this without the pots and pans I picked up at the last town. Any more jabs you’d like to make about that?” Martin asked teasingly. “I believe you said I was practically carrying an entire kitchen on my back.”

“I still think it’s a bit excessive, but I’m certainly happy to take advantage now that we have all of it.”

“I have all it,” Martin corrected, looking smug. “What is this ‘we?’”

“Does this mean you aren’t going to share dinner?” John asked in mock horror. 

“We’ll see.”

“This is torture,” John laughed. “You are literally torturing me right now.”

“It’s nice to know you enjoy my cooking, at least,” Martin said, giving in, his smile going soft. John nearly tripped at the sight, feeling his face burning, and he quickly turned away, failing to hide his own fond smile as he gazed out over the road ahead of them. 

One thing they didn’t see often were guards patrolling the roads. Other travelers, sure, but very rarely guards. So when they spotted one up ahead on the road, they both fell silent in mutual discomfort. John tried to speed up so they could pass him as quickly as possible, but he was still recovering from his injuries and his sore leg was slowing him down.

“Evening,” the guard said the moment he was within earshot and John and Martin both sighed. It appeared they weren’t going to be getting out of this as quickly as they’d hoped. “We’ve heard reports of magic users in the area.”

“Well, thank you for keeping the roads safe for us,” Martin said cheerily.

John was a bit envious, he was bad at lying at the best of times, but particularly so now that there were additional reasons the guard might be looking for them. They hadn’t actually had any money and had had to rely on Martin’s ability to turn invisible to acquire rations so they wouldn’t starve. He just did his best not to look guilty. 

“Then I’m sure you won’t mind if I search your belongings,” the guard said, stopping before them in the middle of the road, looking casual despite blocking the path. “Standard procedure, you understand.”

“Of course, of course.” 

Surely the guard couldn’t have heard about their petty thievery already. They’d just left town and the guard was coming in the opposite direction. But then, if they were looking for evidence of witchcraft, John had no idea what that would even look like. A note that said, ‘I can cast dangerous magics,’ written on it perhaps? 

He felt Martin take his arm, squeezing gently, and he realized there must be something else going on that he’d failed to notice. The guard didn’t exactly seem in a hurry to get on with his request and continued to stand there even as Martin removed his pack. 

“You know, your friend here isn’t looking so good.” The guard smacked John on the shoulder just a little too hard to be a friendly pat, causing him to stumble slightly. He felt Martin tense beside him. 

“Well, it has been one hell of a week,” John replied, not sure what else he was supposed to say at that. He needed to say something, though, because he could see the tight outline of Martin’s jaw, but this really wasn’t worth making a scene over. 

“My point is,” the guard continued. “I’m sure you’re both in a hurry to get where you’re going. Perhaps you have something to donate to show you are both upstanding citizens so we can all move on with our days.”

Ah, there it was. He was trying to extort them. 

“No,” Martin said indignantly as he stepped forward and John could see the moment the guard’s false smile fell away to annoyance. “We don’t have any money, and we certainly aren’t paying to be allowed to walk down the road in peace. What do you think—“

It happened so quickly. With Martin stepping into the guard’s space, probably to block him from taking another swing at John, the guard’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword with a sneer and John— panicked. 

Had he been thinking rationally, he would have reasoned that a proper fight was unlikely to break out. This guard was likely looking for easy money, not an outright battle. Besides, Martin could take care of himself. He was strong, and if necessary, he could simply vanish the two of them to escape. But there was no logic in John’s visceral reaction. 

Acute fear spiked through him like a lance as he was overwhelmed with memories of every other time someone had looked at John with such contempt. Sometimes it was simply followed by the pain of rejection, that was fine, he was used to it, but too often it was followed by a deep visceral fear for his life as they took their rage and their hatred out of his flesh. The physical injuries weren’t even the worst of it, and the realization that Martin was in real danger of being a victim of it, too, did something to John. 

He had let himself go through unimaginable pain, because he couldn’t fight back, couldn’t risk lashing out with his magic and hurting or killing someone. But Martin? He couldn’t see him go through that same pain, he would do anything to spare him that, so he reached deep, and the first thing he thought of was something Elias had done. He shouldn’t have, he knew he shouldn’t, but it was already too late. 

“Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing—“ 

The words reverberated through the air, and John had hardly registered what he was doing before it was done. The words were foul as they clawed their way up his throat, burning his tongue and turning his stomach in disgust, but there was no stopping it as he turned the full force of the Eye on the man, raked it through his mind and flayed him apart from the inside. His scream was strangled, cut off before it had hardly begun, and he was dead before he even hit the ground. 

John’s ears were ringing, everything narrowing down to this horrible moment, all of his focus on what he had just done. He couldn’t look away or move, he could barely think. It took him a moment to remember Martin was there, let alone register that he was speaking to him and his stomach dropped, because he had witnessed all of that. 

“John? John, I need you to look at me,” Martin said, trying to turn his face away from the gruesome sight, to get his focus so he’d stop looking at the blood pouring from the dead guard’s ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. 

“I-I-I killed him,” John stuttered, his entire body now filling with pure panic, the kind that had nowhere to go, because there was no going back, there was no fixing this. He had just caused this man unimaginable pain before he had ended his life. 

Martin had to place himself squarely between John and the form on the ground, holding his face in his hands so he could only look at him. 

“I need you to breathe, okay?” Martin said. 

“No, no, I can’t— I didn’t—“ 

John flinched back from the touch, from Martin, before turning and sprinting away into the forest. Bile rose in the back of his throat and he thought he might be sick. He didn’t want to be seen, shame and revulsion didn’t come close to describing how he felt in this moment and he didn’t want to see it reflected in anyone else’s eyes. Especially not Martin‘s. 

Martin shouldn’t have to touch him, and certainly shouldn’t have to comfort him. He truly was becoming a monster. He had done the one thing that Elias had done that had always disturbed him beyond belief, and now he was no better than him. 

He remembered back to when he thought everything was so simple, a clear divide between human and monster, good and evil. He’d been so sure Jurgen Leitner, the man he blamed for his first run-in with the supernatural, was a source of evil. Then he had been forced to accept the fact that he had just been a sad old man. 

Elias had killed him in front of John, murdered him to send a message. Leitner’s death was on both of their hands, and John had to confront the realization that even he hadn’t deserved what had happened to him. No human did. 

What made someone evil? What made someone monstrous and no longer human? He was fairly sure Elias was too far gone, but what about himself? At what point did he become deserving of such a horrific death? Was he already there, now that he had crossed this line? 

He tripped on a root and fell, remaining where he’d fallen, unable to muster the strength to stand again as he trembled, curling in on himself. Honestly, he was surprised he’d made it this far. He’d hardly been using his cane and his leg burned in agony, but that hardly mattered.  

Had Elias enjoyed killing Leitner? Had he started off telling himself he was doing what he had to in order to survive, to protect himself and those he cared about? Would telling himself that now lead to John eventually becoming like him? He didn’t know, but he was afraid. He was always so afraid. And the worst part was he felt invigorated from the murder.

He had started all of this by surviving off of the suffering of others. He had gone on doing it for far too long. It was so easy to make excuses, to turn a blind eye. But when he finally reached the point where he couldn’t be blind any longer, he’d made his choice. He didn’t want to be like Elias. 

But maybe it had already been too late. Maybe he was already too far gone. He thought losing his humanity would be a sudden thing, a shift where he stopped caring about anyone and anything, a tether being snapped that would unleash his violence and his magic on the world, but maybe it had happened so gradually he’d never noticed.

And what about Martin? Would this be the thing that made him realize how truly terrible magic could be? The thing that made him realize John wasn’t worth any of this? Would he hate him for dragging him into this world of horror and death? 

“John?” He heard Martin calling his name, but shuddered as the tone shifted to relief as he spotted him. “John!”

He trusted Martin, of course he did, but for a wild moment he wondered if he was going to die, if he had proven himself to be so far gone that even Martin might think he deserved death, and he flinched in on himself, curling tighter into the fetal position. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I am so sorry,” he said, begged. As if he deserved to beg. But for what? Forgiveness? For Martin not to hate him? He certainly wouldn’t beg for his life. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Martin said, dropping to his knees beside him, and somehow his gentle understanding hurt so much more. Couldn’t he see that nothing would ever be okay again?

“Please don’t touch me,” he said, because he didn’t want to stain Martin anymore than he already had. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Martin said, his voice still so soft it made his chest ache. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t touch.”

John wanted to cry because even Martin knew he couldn’t stand the possibility of being hurt again, even though Martin had never done anything to make him think he would. He didn’t deserve this. 

“No! I— you saw what I did to him. I killed him— I tore him apart. It was horrible.”

”John, slow down, breathe.”

“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“He was threatening us,” Martin said, and John didn’t understand why he was defending him. 

“It doesn’t matter! He was a person, and I just—“

“Hey, breathe, okay? Just try to breathe.”

“I’m a monster,” John said, and he wanted to laugh at Martin’s concern if he only had the strength. “Surely you can see that now.”

“Are you calling me a monster then, too?” Martin asked, and how could he say that and remain so calm?

“No, of course not,” John said quickly, finally turning to look at him. “But you didn’t do— that to anyone.”

“I did, to Elias. And I’m going to be honest, if someone had pulled a sword on you, I probably would have done it again.”

“I’m just—“ John began. He wanted to point out that Elias hardly counted, but he didn’t think Martin would accept that. ”What if, what if I’m already too far gone?“

“The fact that you’re worrying about it proves that you’re not.”

“Why?” John asked, almost desperately. “Why are you so determined to reassure me?”

“Because I know you,” Martin said, and he sounded so sure, John desperately wished he was right. 

A horrible thought struck him. Had he manipulated Martin in some way? By showing him everything he felt for Martin when the Lonely tried to take him, everything he’d been through, had he tainted his opinion? Had he forced him to see humanity where there was none? 

Suddenly, Martin surged forward and John simply closed his eyes, going limp. He knew Martin, trusted him completely, and, even in his fear-stricken state, knew he would never hurt him. Even if Martin had wanted to, John would never, could never, bring himself to lash out against him, even if he thought he was doing it in self defense. If he had lost his humanity, at least there was enough of him left to know that he would never hurt Martin.

He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t for Martin to cover him with his body, one arm wrapping protectively over his head, using himself as a shield, eyes screwed up tight as he concentrated. Even though Martin was doing his best not to crush him, the weight still caused a horrible panic to bubble up inside him at being restrained. He did his best to choke it down, reminding himself over and over that this was Martin. 

He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on, when he heard it— footsteps. Someone was approaching. The world around him shimmered and it was as if the air around them was thickening, and he knew no one could see them. 

“No sign of anyone over here,” the figure yelled, voice distorted through whatever Martin was doing to hide them, and then they were alone in the woods again. 

They were quiet for a long moment, making sure there was no one in earshot, before Martin quickly moved off of him. John was breathing heavily, trying to smother his panic, but he knew he had to be trembling, looking up at Martin with big eyes. And he hated it, because he saw how heartbroken it made Martin. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “It’s okay, we’re safe. We can stay here as long as you need.”

John nodded distantly and just tied to breath, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms. Despite everything, Martin had protected him. More than that, he had shielded him with his body. John had never done anything to deserve that kind of devotion. 

“What do I do?” he asked, because maybe Martin could at least tell him how to earn back his approval. It felt like he needed to, but he knew Martin would disagree.

“Nothing,” Martin said, simply, and John finally lifted his head to look at him in disbelief. “Sure, I’d rather neither of us have to kill, but I would still do it to protect you. My opinion of you hasn’t changed, if that’s what you’re worried about. But it seems like your opinion of yourself has.” 

Martin was obviously looking at him in concern, but not because he feared for his own life, as if John might finally lose it. No, he was simply worried for John. And John didn’t know what to do. It didn’t feel right to believe it was all as simple as that. And he was so frustrated, because he knew Martin could tell his attempt to protect him had increased his panic, but that shouldn’t have been what Martin was worried about. 

John didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. 

“You’re not afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Martin replied, as if it really was that simple

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” John said, and he hoped it was true, hoped it would always be true, but not wanting to and not doing it were two very different things. His entire life existed as an example of how poorly he handled temptation. 

“I know,” Martin said, and there was just so much trust there.

John nodded, feeling pathetic. He shouldn’t be asking for reassurances from Martin, it wasn’t fair of him. He buried his face in his arms once again, wishing he could disappear, wishing he could rewrite time, make different choices, but it was far too late for that. He was vaguely aware of Martin moving around and felt a blanket drape over his shoulders, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up.