#and all youd have to do is say “anyone who is not unable to do this for disability reasons. you can do this” and move on

[spectrumgarden]

Okay so I've never really joined the whole "small talk" argument that's been happening increasingly over the last years because I tend to just not agree with anyone I see discuss it. Like no I dont think people who use it are evil or making things hard on purpose, I also dont think it makes them lesser, ... I Also dont think that someone who refuses to use it / cant use it is automatically worse and will not make friends.

Importantly i also dont think everyone can learn it. I should know because I spent multiple years with professionals trying to teach me how to have a conversation At All and I still am actually nowhere near what would be expected at my age group. (Most recent reports usually go something like "makes slight improvements in having a two sided conversation" - because I can say nothing, or I can ramble on and then not react to your answer. The rest? Struggle time, to this day, in every aspect) No matter how many intricate guides you write, if I fail at the basic concept of a conversational structure very frequently then I will not succeed at small talk either. And additionally I also genuinely can not tell what might be too personal for this other person.

A lot of these people who get upset when people say "I cant do small talk because I'm autistic and I cant learn it, I tried and failed" and go "of course you can!", just sort of like. Ignore that a lot of the developmental delay in conversation and / or (nonverbal) language never closes up for many of us, the way a lot of us generally never reach the developmental level of our peers (in some areas). and it's not because we have not seen enough complex flow charts or not practiced enough. when so many of us literally spend so much additional time of our youth sitting in front of whiteboards and workbooks and such, being explained over and over how to talk to someone at all. I am 22 and after years of explicit teaching I still have to ask for verbal confirmation and explanation of any nonverbal cues that I think were used by my conversational partner, but do not know what they mean. Which is pretty much all of them. And I probably miss a lot of them existing at all. You can scream "just practice until you can recognize the other persons little cues on if they want to deepen or end this" until you turn blue but it will not actually make me accomplish it if the fucking people who've been spending their whole life teaching it didnt make me figure it out. On account of, you know, the developmental delay.

Sure some people can learn! That's why they try to teach us after all! Cause it has been successful! But generally stop with this shit of "everyone can learn this you're just choosing not to!"

I will never be rude to someone for engaging in small talk, I will obviously fail at their attempts to engage me in some, which usually makes them stop trying (thank god). But I will not tolerate others talking shit about it that is uncalled for (implying malice from every user, making fun of people who seem to crave it, ...).

But I also do not care to learn it anymore at this point? It's no goal of mine. I have made multiple friends, most non autistic, without ever using small talk. Including in adulthood. We simply skipped that stage. We went from "hi!" "Hi!" Immediately to "heres when it went wrong in my life (humorous but still often dark / personal). Also these are my political opinions. Sure I want to hear about the girl you dated for years in excruciating detail. Let me retell you the plot of this old indie movie you will never watch for 20 minutes and why I enjoy it. Let's go to a concert together after talking slightly in depth like this twice". Is this the way that you creep everyone out in everyone's friendship acquisition theory I've been seeing? Sure! It's been working perfectly fine, enough of the times for me, though.

Will this work in like a work environment or something? Most likely not, which is why I generally plan to keep to myself. Does this mean I still confuse every stranger who approaches me trying to small talk? Sure. that's why I'm still fucking disabled. But I have created meaningful relationships as an adult without small talk. I have genuinely tried learning in many ways and failed. And I'm done apologizing for that, either you take me with my inability to small talk or you wont.

[opal-owl-flight]

No sign of Rain.

Not easy living with the fact that you hurt someone you just wanted to protect, isnt it.

More context under the cut!

Tldr: 3 realizes that forcing 4 away from the Platoon after Sploon2 the way they did wasnt the best choice. That forcing her to ignore what had happened had most likely contributed to her unable to cope with life beyond war.

(The comic above is from after Sploon3/SO! Situation described below is post Sploon2/OE.)

3 and 4 have been doing missions together awhile. 4s been able to handle herself well, but theres a moment where she trips up and gets hurt a lil more than usual. Like, its to the point where she needs to be taken off the field awhile.

3...

"|Im sorry.|"

"Heh? Three, if it wasnt for you, Id be dead. What are you saying sorry for?"

"|...if it werent for me going away when Octavio stole the Zapfish again...youd never have been dragged into this mess.|"

"Thats not your fault, Three. Cap'n called you away."

3 sighs... "|Still...you couldve been living a life where you never have to worry about your life being put in this much danger.

Or anyone else's life, for that matter.|"

4s the one whos quiet now, as she glances away. 3 does have a point... "...I guess so, yeah. But that wouldve meant that Id never have met you."

Silence sits between them awhile, until 3 grunts softly, to get 4 to look at them again. "|I want you to promise me something.|"

"What is it?"

"|When things settle down again, I want you to leave.|"

"....What?"

"|Live your life away from this. This danger, this war, this...everything.|"

"And leave YOU? Three, you cant do things alone anymore, you KNOW it!"

A clack of their beak. "|Im more capable than you think, Four. Dont think less of me.|"

"Im not- Im not thinking less of you!! Im just stating the facts!"

3s making a low gurgling noise. Its a similar sound an inkfish makes before spitting ink. A sound that says "dont test me."

"Three, Im not leaving. Its already happened... everything -- Octaria, the zapfish, the metro -- its all happened, and I cant just...go back after all of that."

"|Yes, you can. You still can. Youve a life outside this. Why else are you late enough that Marie has given up reprimanding you?|"

4 backs down...3s right. Again.

"...and what about you? Why dont you leave, too? Once...everything is stable."

3s ears droop. "|...theres nothing left for me. Ive thrown my lot with the NSS for as long as I remember. My team barely even recognizes me these days.|"

A silent beat goes by between them again.

"|So promise me. Promise me.| Rain." They rasp her name, making sure she gets the point. "|Promise me you'll live. Promise me you'll go back up there. You said you wanted to go to college -- go. Dont look back. Dont become like me.

I dont want you to become like...this.|"

They gesture to their scar. Their tentacles, forever stained marbled cyan.

4 can see in the gesture the pain they hid in their hearts. The regret. The guilt.

"...Tanara..."

"Live." they rasp, So quietly."Live. Promise me."

"I dont want to leave you alone."

"|Ive been in this war since Ive hatched, and Ive done things on my own before you were dragged into this. You deserve none of this bullshit.|"

"You dont deserve it either!"

3 grips her shoulders. pleading with her. "Promise me. Please promise me. That youll leave."

4 shakes her head. Resolute.

"Im sorry...I cant promise that to you. Youre my friend, Tanara. Im not letting you do this alone."

3... leans against her, defeated. Burying their face into her shoulder. Theyre shaking their head, clutching on her tight.

"...I-Im sorry, I...Ill be more careful next time. Okay? I can...I can promise you that much."

3 remains silent. Thats not what they want. They want her to be safe forever.

"...this really means a lot to you, huh?

Okay.

Ill...Ill think about it."

------------------------

She does eventually decide to leave. Things were looking up for awhile, and missions are much lighter. She can dare to dream bigger now. That and...she cant stand seeing 3 looking so guilty whenever she says something abt her life on the surface.

None of it is their fault. Any of this. But they still feel that theyre taking her away from her "real life".

When she said that shes leaving the platoon, 3s look of jubilation both relieved and pained her. Then a thought hit her, right there.

"...Wait...all this time- did you just want to get rid of me? D-did you not want to be friends anymore?"

3 shakes their head. "|Rain, I asked you to live your dreams as a friend.

Your safety would be guaranteed. Youd be able to happily live your dreams without worry.|"

"...Will I ever see you again?"

3 sighs. "|...hopefully not.|"

4 gasps.

"|No- no-! Not because I dont want to see you-|"

"Tanara, youre making it hard for me to believe that youre doing this for me. What kind of life would I have if youre not there? Not a happy one, Im telling you!!!"

3s shaking as they sign. Trying so hard to keep their breaking mask tight.

"|Im a soldier, Rain. And Ill likely be one til the day I die.

I dont want to drag you back into this mess. I dont want you to get hurt, because of me.|"

Why is it that they always have a point? 4 despairs at the fact.

"So this means goodbye..?"

"|Weve got some days left. Lets make them count.|"

A smile. A bittersweet one.

------------------------

These teenagers goddamn. 3 doesnt understand fully that shit still happened and one cant just leave and pretend nothing had transpired. Or maybe they felt they didnt deserve to have someone as good as 4.

Theyre ruthless in a sense that they know what their goals are. Their goal was to keep the world safe for everyone else to live. And if it means sacrificing their friendship with 4, so be it. If shes safe, their goal is met. Doesnt matter what either of them feel about it. (I suppose 4 getting injured really pushed them to make that choice.)

And 4... yeah, leaving was the smart choice for her personal growth, but agreeing with 3 to sacrifice their friendship wasnt the best choice to agree to. She felt like she cant argue 3 out of that decision they made for the both of them...so she just followed it.

"|Look alive, Rain. Your brand new life awaits you.|"

------------------------

Thats why theyre so flabbergasted and upset that she came back. It felt like that time they spent alone, that sacrifice they made, was all in vain...

"Im sorry, Three. It sucked being away from you. It really did. I failed to live there...maybe my life is really meant to be lived here. On duty.

With you."

Are they disappointed that she failed her brand new life? No, never. They gave her the chance to run away from it all, but she came crawling back after doing so. If she felt that her life is here, after trying something else, so be it.

Thats what convinced them enough to allow 4 to return to duty. Theyll keep her safe another way. They also cant hide from themself the fact that theyre happy to see her again after so long.

[paviastrashyrings]

*slams my hands on the table*

Finally, there's more Pavia liker here in tumblr and I been waiting for someone making Pavia contents/fanfics, yet you gib meh a delicious pavia content.

Speaking of Pavia, Can I have a request for him? I'm not sure if you heard his backstory but feel free to decline this request!

What if Pavia finally met his childhood best friend (crush) in his past? Who always been there for him in dark and gloomy times in his childhood? But finally met again as they grow up, would Pavia still have the love for reader when he met them again? And would they spend more time together than before in the past? What would that be?

*Grabs le a mic on you*

What an interesting ask; to answer your question dear reader, I know some of his lore. The basement in piedmont, the reason he was there. If there is anything I have not learned, I would be happy to learn more.

With such out of the way, dear readers, join me now in yet another sweet dream of the wolf and his pack.

A childhood crush is hard to come by when you're stuck in a basement for majority of what most would call childhood.

but little tiny you, leaving gifts you found at the only window that the basement had or dropping flowers and whatever trinkets you found out in the wilds.

slowly, he took notice and decided to try and speak to you.

You were so kind, and it felt so wonderful to finally have some kind of attention after all of this time without human interactions.

The day he disappeared, you thought he had died with not so much as a goodbye. You mourned, not knowing how to handle the loss of a friend.

as you grew older, you continued to carry a small bundle of dried and pressed petals from the flowers you used to show him. They sit neatly in a little pendant around your neck.

You were walking along, out on a small grocery run when you heard a voice that sounded oddly familiar.

You look around, clutching your pendant until your eyes land on him.

who..no that couldn't be who you thought it was. "Excuse me, sir" you'd try to at least get a better look at him. He couldn't possibly be who you thought it was, could it? "You're excused, can't you see im in the middle of-" and he stops, eyes filled with a strange familiarity as they land on you. He held a sweet in his hand, wrapped nicely in a box, it seems he was about to indulge. "I just had to ask," you start timidly, seeing the man sit in shocked silence. You open your pendant, the petals of flowers you used to show the little boy in the basement still pristine. "Do you know what flowers these petals belong to?"

To say he was shocked was an understatement, staring at the petals with wide eyes through his tinted glasses.

"Is it really you Pavia? After all these years?" youd ask, the realization dawning on him almost as soon as you said his name.

"Goodness, look at how much you've grown. I thought the day that my gifts weren't met with happy chatter, you had died." You'd continue, being unable to read the emotions he felt through his expression.

"I missed you; i missed you dearly in fact. I carried these everyday because I wanted to keep you with me" without saying a word in response to any of your rambling, he took your face in his hands.

He stared you down, as if trying to see if it really was you, he even leaned in and sniffed you as if he were a dog.

He was wary, but the more you spoke of the gifts you would show him and the nights you would talk to him through the one window he had in the basement, he started to believe you more.

The fact that you said you missed him? That you carried something that reminded you of him? He could cry, he didn't think that anyone doing that simply because they thought of him dearly was even possible.

He would love to catch up, first asking if you remembered what the names of his imaginary friends were.

If you answered with Tonika, Leon, Maleficent, Andrea, and Peter: well he automatically knew that you really were missing him.

Happy that you remembered, would absolutely pester you to hang out whenever you possibly could.

You got him a matching pendant, but it was empty. You had insisted that he put something in there that reminded him of you, so he could carry it around like you did with the petals.

Internally melting, externally grumbling about it being so much work.

He did it anyways, wears it religiously. Inside was a single piece of opal small enough to fit, it made him think of how bright you were.

He looks at it sometimes, but is more proud to wear it around knowing that yours matches.

crying, your honor please just let me love him gently Goodness, all of you have been so wonderful with your requests in my inbox!! I really wasnt expecting these to be so well received but I love writing them and I will do my best to get them all out to you asap! I digress, come dream with me some other time. From your Beloved, Moon.

[hostilemuppet]

Saw the JD & Floyd post and was about to say “Maybe he should” but then it just made me sad. Like damn he cares about his family to the detriment of himself, what does that say about his relationship with Creek. I think I remember you writing something about Floyd realizing he’s genuinely fallen in love with him.

you want me to show how much thought ive put into tdau floyd? the funny cokehead with commitment issues? the guy who posts thirst traps out of spite? okay (keep in mind that most of this is just what *I* think and hasnt been cleared with alex, but when i write for floyd its genuinely what i consider in the back of my mind)

i think he was 13 y/o when he went out on his own (1999), began seeing the rest of the troll tree for himself, until he finally escaped on his own at around 15 (2001), a year before the entire tribe was evacuated (2002). he hitch hiked a bit and got to see a bunch of tribes but he only really got to see techno reef and volcano rock city, staying in vrc a lot longer (LONG before barb was in power and turned rocks view on pop from "they fucked up a really long time ago but were safe from them now" to "we need to colonise them back") and discovering a lot about himself in the process

he turned 18 (2004) and, as most ex-child stars do, immediately went IN on hard drugs and sex with strangers, as if thats the test for proving your adulthood. and he had a good time! he spent most of his life drugged to the gills and unable to look himself in the mirror the rare moments he was sober, but, yknow. details. then he got bored. and he went travelling again

at the age of 20 (2006) he left troll kingdom entirely. obviously he stayed CLEAR of bergen town (and silently prayed to whatever god pop trolls typically believe in that his family were safe and undigested). but he saw all sorts of places! places we havent seen yet, with species we havent seen yet, of extremely varying sizes! hell, he mightve met a species or two that are smaller than trolls! imagine that. but spending years travelling, it gets lonely. he never got to connect with anyone. hell, he never even had a real boyfriend! the most he had was that situationship he had that lasted 5 weeks before he got ghosted when that techno troll got back with his girlfriend. (its okay though, he channels his pain into his art, and that was one became his most popular song on bandcamp by a significant margin!)

at 27 years old (2013) he arrived in mount rageous. sure, they were huge, and he was terrified of being eaten, obviously. but they didnt want to eat him! they thought he was cute. and, he wont lie, he liked the attention. he became a novelty, that tiny little creature with his even tinier guitar, who apparently built up such a tolerance he can handle mount rageon drugs. imagine doing blow with stewert little. they loved him, as entertainment. he still didnt have anyone who loved him as a person, but at that point he was willing to settle.

when hes 36 (2023) he gets kidnapped by velvet & veneer, and of course no one thought to look for him. you wouldnt notice if the mouse in your house suddenly went missing. at most youd think someone you live with finally took care of it, and youd move on with your life.

the events of the movie happen, hes reunited with his siblings, he actually feels valued as a person again, AND to top it all off, those two months in the bottle did WONDERS for detoxing. next time he tries pop troll coke he actually feels a buzz! he never thought hed see the day!

brozone reunite, we see the early days of their career carry out in the au. floyd feels like hes on top of the world. hes got his family back, hes back in pop village (albeit, its a different pop village than he knew. hell, they used to all it troll village back then!) hes releasing actual music again, and not just busking for tips (its okay he didnt need much, he rented out a mouse hole for cheap). but he wants an actual connection. he wants a relationship. but hes never actually had that! hes never even felt respected by a potential partner! so he goes back to random hookups. and, yknow, its fun, he guesses. but he wants more

the first troll who seems to actually take interest in him as anything more than a hot piece of ass or "that guy from brozone" rocks his world. hes ashamed to admit that after knowing the guy for 3 hours he already thought about spending the rest of his life with him. he just wasnt used to being spoken to like a person by anyone other than immediate family members! its okay though, he couldnt scare him off, because he was being paid to be there, and after recording himself getting in floyds pants (the only way he knows how to show affection at this point) it was all over the internet

so, you know, obviously floyd wasnt doing great. hes gotten good at hiding his feelings (not like anyone really cares about them anyway) but he was clearly struggling. he did what he does best, and turned it into a joke, so maybe itd hurt a little less. he probably made it worse, but at least he was numb now. he goes back to hookups, deciding hell never have an actual boyfriend, hell never get married, and hes okay with that. well, hes clearly not, but its not like anyone ever asked, so he has to deal.

then he meets creek. and at this point hes not stupid. hes not that naive little kid anymore, and when he wakes up the next morning and realises his newest one night stand was that guy, the asshole, the one who everyone hates, he knows hes the butt of the joke, again. theres probably a camera, again. he leaves before creek wakes up.

but then he meets him again, a few days later. and creek says how much of a shame it is he never got his digits. and floyd doesnt know what to make of this. but he knows he shouldnt trust him. he heard everything riff said about him, everything BRANCH said about him. he knows every one of creeks crimes. but maybe he just wants to have some fun, yknow? everyones always fucking with him, maybe he wants to play around sometime. show the world hes not some little helpless doll.

what follows is about a year and a half of gay chicken on expert mode. creek pretends to love floyd. floyd pretends he doesnt know creeks pretending. floyd feels in control, almost. he gets comfortable. he refuses to believe its love, how could it be love? theyre awful to each other. but its, technically, his first real relationship. he tries not to think about it.

maybe encouraging creek to propose was a little more than seeing how far he can push him before he snaps. maybe he wanted to prove that hes worth it, even if the other guy wasnt. maybe he genuinely cried when he got angelinas egg, even if hed rather die than let creek see him express genuine emotions. he knows hes the sensitive one, but hes more than brozone. hes a person. a person that people dont ever seem to want to know.

then he realises. hes not the only one whos gotten comfortable. creek looks... not happy, exactly. but content. and floyd thinks thats terrifying. its too far, thats not how any of this was supposed to work. it was REVENGE. floyd was fucking with him, because creek was fucking with him first! now hes married, hes MARRIED, with KIDS, TWINS! THAT HE NAMED! and he loves them! and he loves creek! and creek loves him! hes gonna be sick. he cant do this. he cant be here. he lives in a mansion but its suffocating him. he leaves. he divorces creek.

hes miserable again. jd doesnt notice bc hes "the sensitive one", and his other brothers dont know how to bring it up without making it worse. branch is the only one who asks how hes holding up, but he just says hes fine, hell bounce back. he doesnt bounce back

when he meets creek again, he wants to cry. he wants to get on his hands and knees and beg him to take him back, but he has a LITTLE bit of self respect left. when he finds out creek missed him too its more than he can take. when they get drunk, and floyd forces jd to re-marry them, floyd actually feels like a person. a broken person, who healed in a creek-shaped mould, but a person nonetheless. and maybe thats all he can ask for

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

it’s midnight and i just. i have this stuck in my head.

steve who’s used to every little disagreement turning into a big fight so he snaps/yells at reader and when they don’t return that fight and just kind of shutdown steve panics and feels so so guilty

my love you hit me in the soft spot. i cry so hard whenever anyone even slightly yells at me.

tw: not a lot but i thought id put one to make sure everyones safe <3: bit of a disagreement, reader with vague past relationship trauma if you squint, sensitive reader, anxious reader, oblivious steve, in love steve, steve in general. if anything from above is something you cant handle right now thats perfectly okay and ill see you next time!

steve is very very very gentle. hes calm and collected and mostly rational. so arguments are extremely rare.

but today steve was tired. oh so tired. and he missed you. so much. so when you were being almost silent on the car ride home from the bi-weekly dinner with the kids, robin and eds, he was freaking out.

the waitress was very subtly flirting with him. in a way where only the girls at the table knew what was going on.

of course steve had no interest in her, for gods sake. he didnt even look at her for more than two seconds.

you werent mad at him. no, he handled it very well. he passed all the tests. you were just sad. comparing yourself to the blonde waitress. thinking about how many people want him that you dont even know about. the little voice in your head saying “why does he want you?” and looking for signs of infidelity, coming back emptyhanded as always, shamefully reminding you that hes not your past relationships.

so no you werent mad at him. you were mad at you.

but we all know hes a little bit… slow sometimes. so that doesnt even occur to him.

what if you lost interest in him? what if you think hes annoying? why are you mad at him?

his fears only heightening when you give him a small smile when he opens the front door for you, instantly heading to the kitchen to get some water, hoping itll make you feel better.

“whats your problem tonight?”

oh.

“…what?” and you stare directly down at the countertop because you can already feel yourself tearing up at his tone.

“what do you mean ‘what?’. youve been acting weird since we left.”

he really doesnt mean for it to sound so angry, if you listened a little closer you might be able to hear the desperation in his voice.

“…the waitress”

“what?”

“she was flirting with you.

“what?”

he throws his head back and puts his hands to his face in exasperation. before realizing that youre a little too quiet… and shaking?

his tone brought back memories and fear. fear that he would just find someone else since you were bothering him. and youd be left alone again, but only this time unable to pick up the pieces.

and now hes horrified because he didnt mean to sound angry, he was just frustrated and didnt even think about how sensitive his girl was to things like that.

but you were too far gone now. your ears ringing and your breath escaping you. fighting back tears with every bone in your body, and losing said fight.

and so you turned around to look at him. and your eyes betray you once more. instantly filling with tears that make steves face drop and heart fall.

“m’sorry steve” but your voice falters and breaks before the first sob racks through your body, walking as quickly as you can to his bedroom to clean yourself up.

HES FREAKING OUT SO BAD

he feels absolutely awful. poor man starts crying too, but makes himself stop for his apology, not wanting to scare you further.

following behind you and knocking on his own door.

“babydoll, can i come in?”

youre standing in front of his mirror. eyes puffy and red and shaking. you knew steve wouldnt leave. you knew he wasnt like that. but you were crying anyways, which only made you cry more out of embarrassment.

“…yeah” you call weakly, still not looking up as he opens the door.

his arms are around you instantaneously

“‘m so sorry baby i didnt mean to sound angry, i wasnt thinking. im sorry.”

“its okay, im sorry i-”

“no, you have nothing to be sorry for. you’re allowed to get sad. theres nothing wrong with it, id never judge you for that. i was just being… stupid cause i didnt get it y’know? i mean i literally am horrifyingly in love with you. im like obsessed with you… not in a weird way…. anyways! and i get jealous all the time. like everyday, even over small things. that barista the other day? coulda killed that guy. y’had me studying how to make lattes babe.”

and of course youre giggling. his polo shirt saturated with tears and pure joy.

“i love you so much.”

“i love you most. i know you dont really think id look at anyone but you, right? but if you need confirmation i will go and take back the tip we gave that lady.”

more giggles.

and that was the difference. steve embraced your sensitivity. he loved it actually. loved the way you care about things. love the way you pick up on energies before anyone else. loves everything about you. including some of the not so pretty things.

[vantasei]

biting and scratching and crying thinking about deumion, like. LIKE you don't want to kill but your skill means that you're now 1. immortal, 2. alone, 3. forced to kill anyone who reaches you (if you're unlucky.) HE'S LITERALLY SHACKLED TO DEATH ITSELF my man cannot catch a BREAK 💔 on a lighter note, leila is so fun! how did she escape the leviathan? who knows! but what I do know is that I have no choice but to stan. I am gently holding all the ffii characters in my hands. except for borghen.

IT MAKES ME FUCKING CRAZY. hes so young. one of the last things he hears before he leaves to be stuck in isolation for millennia is his mother wailing behind him, desperately crying out his name. hes just a KID THEYRE ALL JUST KIDS ITS NOT FAIR. to be forced (ITS STILL FORCED AND YOU KNOW IT. YOU CANT PUT ALL THAT ON A KID AND EXPECT HIM TO SAY NO) to hold the weight of the future on your shoulders without ever even getting to see it. to be able to do nothing but hope that mankind survives with your sacrifice. everyones futures in exchange for your own and youll never even get to see it.

LIKE. he doesnt know that the shit w mateus was going down!! he has no idea how the outside world is doing! its just him and his ouppy and the arcane labyrinth and eternity. AND THATS THE GOOD ENDING. ETERNITY FOREVERMORE ALONE AND FORGOTTEN BY THE GREATER WORLD. THIS IS NOT A GOOD ENDING DAWG IM CRYING!!!!!!

BUT HIS. HIS DESPERATION AS HE CRAWLS AFTER YOU, DEFEATED BUT UNABLE TO LET GO BECAUSE WHAT WAS IT ALL FOR IF HE FALLS HERE. IF HE RELINQUISHES DESTRUCTION TO A STRANGER HE COULD NEVER KNOW. and even then, all the others he himself had slain to fulfill his role, as someone who loves humanity so deeply that his love is all he is anymore.

HES A KID.

cough. erm.

smiles at u. leila. girlbossing it up in here. TBH even without a ship youd have to imagine shes prepped as a swimmer + leviathan would have no reason to attack her after swallowing down firion and the crystal rod plus the tower is otherwise surrounded by that ring of land. so as unlikely as it would seem, i wouldnt say its outside of the realm of possibility for her to make it to land, esp w leviathan fucking w the currents. the biggest obstacle aside from the open water would be the monsters, but then again, it's not like she doesnt come default w thunder (i have so many thoughts abt magic and mysidia and i would LOVE to hear what someone else thinks abt it if ur ever up for that). so its unlikely, but i cant say its impossible for her to make it out of there... her other obstacle would be making it off the isles Also without a ship but tbh if she swam out of the bay i think she can make it across that channel also. to be quite honest.

ff2 characters 🥰 paul my good friend paul. finally, my chance to live up to my blog title has arrived.

[middleschoolfursona]

literal tears are running down my face as i scroll thru your blog. on it it it feels like im back home.

i just wanna go back man. i just wanna be a kid running around on feralheart and drawing my ocs again and watching silly movies with my friends. it feels like im living a lie every single day of my life since then.

it hurts and fills me with so much shame to say that i feel like a kid, like i stopped mentally aging in like 2012, 2014 at the latest. the dysphoria is strangling. i dont want to describe it but yeah it sucks so bad.

i cant tell anyone in my life this in detail. cus i can feel the callouts. the sneers. the performative disgust. the gleeful hatred. everyone turning on me and making me into a joke. but this experience is so viscerally terrible and real and i cant just get over it and i cant choose to get better. i hate it.

youre the first person ive ever seen who seemed like theyd actually understand and its just overwhelming bcus it felt like i was completely alone. so i just wanted to say thanks for the catharsis of showing me im not beyond understanding. but im sorry if this is all selfish or upsetting. the last thing i wanna do is hurt or upset anyone, so feel free to ignore and delete.

thank you for ur blog and i hope you have a great day/week/month/year/life/forever <3

anon, im so so sorry i didnt answer this one sooner. i kept thinking, "when i get on desktop" but i never ended up back on desktop until i got this new monitor (win!)

i totally feel you, im glad i can bring you (though maybe bittersweet) comfort.

dysphoria and even feelings of 'transness' in places of identity other than gender and sex absolutely exist and are valid, and its really too bad its so stigmatized. you have my <3 and you have my thoughts. its tough, and theres more of us than youd think, hopefully, its an amount that comforts you... and i hope, you can find people who relate to you and you can share trust with and happy memories.

"performative disgust' is a topic i bring up a lot in this kinda discoursing. if i may, its pretty western too.. the need to be combative causes a strange sort of lash-out-culture, where people arent even neccisarily uninformed, its a lack of desire to be informed at all, and instead perform hatred for the acknowledgement of their peers. id know. it was me once. terrible and toxic situation, but its eaten the internet in many spaces....

its tough feeling trapped, unable to move forwards and feeling like youre "wrong". being disabled and growing up disabled makes those kinds of remarks and implications said by some people extra painful to me. and i know lots of us who feel dysphoria surrounding our facets of the self, both gender or non-gender, are neurodivergant as well, and as someone who was in special education, and then my school dropped me by force because i just "wouldnt" do my math, i know how painful it can feel both inside, but then to come forward and have people act like "just move forward" "just understand" "well you can never go back so just be here instead"... its painful.

i hope that between the time you sent this and now, youvbe found someone to be open to... if not, you can send me your discord off anon (wont pub) and we can chat there if you need it... youre certainly not alone anon, just the haters want you to feel that way. dont give in. do your best!

[dear-god-christ-in-hell]

i have no where else to just spill this out and i fucking cant anymore

im ashamed to be a human

im ashamed to be an american

im ashamed that as a whole humanity has falid over and over and over again

im ashamed that people in power can sleep at night knowing whats happening in the world

babies are fucking dying

BABIES ARE FUCKING DYING

men, women, children who fucking cares

HUMAN BEINGS ARE BEING SHOT AT, BOMBED, GASSED, STRIPED OF THEIR HUMANITY BY PEOPLE WHO ONLY CARE ABOUT THEMSELVES

IT IS THE 21ST FUCKING CENTURY AND WE AS A HUMAN POPULATION ARE STILL GETTING AWAY WITH THIS SHIT

im so fucking ashamed

i cant even keep the tears in anymore and i know that my tears being shed across the sea sitting on my couch unable to do fuck all but keep myself informed as every video, picture, statement, fact, and link i share is fuck all for help

all i can think about everyday is just how bad i feel knowing that my taxes, my country, my species is doing this to PEOPLE

those are people and i cant help but want to save them all but I FUCKING CANT

and the ones who CAN want to make this all fucking complecated or deny it all like some fucking conspiricy

i am ashamed knowing in 20 years people my age will be asking why the hell did we let something like this happen

and NO ONE will have a good enough answer

i cant cry enough for every life lost and i cant fight for every life lost but for gods sake i will try my fucking best because they deserve empathy, understanding, and fucking HELP

this is atrocious and i cant even say specifically because ITS HAPPENING EVERYWHERE

people in palestine, congo, sudan, college students, fucking anyone and everyone who isnt rich white and fucking privledged

i am udderly disgusted by our species

not even fucking bears would do this

no other fucking creature in the damn galexy would do things like this

did we not learn from all the fucking wars!??!?!??!

did we not learn that this is never ok

did we not learn fucking empathy?

i cant decide to be mad, sad, fucking anything all i know is im absolutly crushed thinking about mass graves, children cuffed with zipties, new anti protesting tools that should count as war weapons, hospitals schools homes everything being bombed, everything being on fire, families in their homes thinking theyre safe only for a bomb to eviserate anything they held near and dear WHILE THEYRE ASLEEP IN BED, governments boxing in survivers lying to them saying theyre safe only to drop little fucking papers from the sky to litter the only thing they have left with a fucking note saying "oh yeah we told you youd be safe, now your not", starving people forced to live out of tents as everything theyve ever known or loved is fucking burned

i want to help

i want to help so bad

i keep myself informed and i listen to the voices telling us to help and all i can think about is how so many fucking voices are screaming for someone fucking anyone to stop this massacre

and i cant fucking help

all i want is for those people to have their homes and their lives and their fucking families back but i know thats not fucking possible anymore and i cant even describe the amount of pain i feel in my chest everyday knowing that another 100 people are gonna die before i go to bed that night

the pain i feel when im sitting on my porch trying to enjoy the weather knowing that somewhere the weather isnt warm or sunny or even shitty and mucky. the rain is some places is not water to hydrate the earth or snow for forts and snowball fights. the rain in some places is fire, bombs, smoke, bullets and by god what does that fucking accomplish

and instead of being able to sing in the rain and play in the snow people are being forced to take cover and learn what a fucking bomb is

i cannot even list how many atrocities have happened, and i cannot even bare to list how many pictures and videos and evidence of the inhumanity happening exsist and are being called fucking fake

you cannot fake mass graves

or someone being buried alive

or someone being skinned

or someone having to amputate their own daughters leg

or any of the other 100s of things that people are being forced to endure

for gods sake we are watching bombs get dropped on people willing to take bandages of their own wounds to help a hurt dog

where did humanity go

if there is a god theyve fucking left us

if there is a god theyre fucking weeping

if their is a god for christs sake ive never wanted one to exsist more just so HOPEFULLY all the prayers work and all this fucking ends

i dont want to watch people dying anymore

i dont want to hear about students risking everything to make sure their voices are heard

i dont want to see police and governments let this happen and support it

i just want to see people be happy

please i just want all the violence and corruption to end

i dont want to see children screaming for help

i dont want to open every social media and see families begging for help

its disgusting that this is even possible after all of history says not to do this shit anymore

i so fucking sorry to all the people all the fucking humans who are suffering right now

im so fucking sorry

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Can I request a striker x female imp reader who has wings — since imps can manifest them apparently— but instead of being demonic looking, they’re like a birds.

Striker with bird like Imp

Striker kind of despised other Imps.

The way they just go about there meaningless existences, each of them happy to just folliw along with the herd like the sheep they were.

Of course that didnt mean he hated all other Imps.

There were more then a few Imps he come to respect in his day.

But, much to his annoyance, they were far and few between.

And Striker wouldn't say he hated all other Imps.

After all, he wasn't all to different from them. He was just trying to live his life, doing what he wanted when he wanted.

He just wanted to go about his life. Of course he was better than everyone else.

But he understood the general vibe of just wanting to live your life, free from other demons bullshit.

Damn, He needed to stop thinking so much.

Having just completed a job he was laying low in some small town on the wrath ring.

He was taking a walk about town, making sure to get a proper feel for the towns lay out. Just in case he needed to make a quick exit.

He was reaching the towns outskirts, when he came across an impressive structure.

It looked like one of the ancient temples you'd find on the Pride ring, if you looked hard enough.

So getting a closer look, he found a humble little sign that said "Library" painted on a large piece of wood. Benieth that was "Thieves will lose hands."

Now that peaked his interest, enough for him to check I out.

Pushing open the large wooden doors, he entered a temple, surprised to find the entire hall filled with books.

He walked around, the building was like a maze of shelves. Books were stacked in high pillars of paper.

He wondered through the labyrinth of knowledge, perusing the selection.

Getting bored and calling out if anyone was home.

A melodious voice called back, so Striker sat back, waiting for the owner of the voice.

It was a few moments before the distinct sound of wings that had caused him to look up.

The sight left him breathless, the late afternoon sun was shining in through the once ornate strained glass windows.

Initailly the light blinded him, but as you approached, he could make you out.

You descended apon Angel wings. The light masking your features, but in that moment Striker new true beauty.

It was like something from Gospel.

An Angel.

Not one of those horrifying demons they called Exterminators. You were something good and light, to pure for this sinful hell.

You landed before him, wings fluttering as you drew them behind you.

Getting a better look at you, his initial proclamation still held, you truly something of beauty.

Placing down a small stack of books you had carried. You turned to him. 'Can I help you?' You asked pleasantly. Happy to see someone new in your library.

For the first time in his life, Striker was at a loss.

He had no idea how to approach you.

So he just stood there, slowly opening and closing his mouth for several moments, unable to put thought into words.

You, just waited patiently, waiting for him to say something.

When it was clear he wasn't going to respond, you just went about your business.

Seeing you move on, snapped Striker back to focus.

Quickly slipping to your side, he tried to flirt with you, only to find his tongue seemed to swell in his mouth, his words coming out awkwardly.

He followed you around for a while tripping over his words, until he managed to ask you your name.

Giving it, he found himself a little love drunk.

Despite how charming his awkward nature was, you were still had duties about the library.

And if Striker was gonna be following you around, he might as well help.

Hours later, after thanking him for the help, Striker awome from his trance, berating himself for making a fool of himself.

But he wasn't gonna give up on you, you were the most beautiful Imp he'd ever seen, and was gonna have you, no matter what it took.

So after making sure his "hideout" was more long term. He began his plan for getting closer to you.

And that he did, He spent most days in your library. Either helping you with your work or reading some book he thought might earn your favour.

As much as he tried to keep his cool around you, he was just utterly infatuated with you.

Your appearance just left him in awe. He couldnt get over your wings especially.

Striker tried his typical tactics whenever he found someone he liked, flirting every chance he got.

But he quickly found his efforts, annoyed you as much as they flattered you.

Not to mention, any charisma he had was dashed apon your first meeting

So he changed up his strategy, instead going for the long game, getting as close to you as possible.

This would gradually work, you coming to genuinely enjoy his company as you got to know him.

The more time you spent with the Imp, the more you found yourself falling for him.

He absolutely worshipped your wings, treating them like holy objects.

Youd let him inspect them on occasion, allowing him to inspect your wings for himself, each time he treated them like delicate artefacts.

Never daring to be to rough with them, as though he feared he may break them.

Eventually he'd ask you out, something you couldn't turn down. Not after getting so close to him.

It wasn't long after that, that you became an official couple, a debonair Cowboy and a humble Librarian. Striker often commenting it was like something from a joke.

Striker would often refer to you as his angel, but as much he liked it, you really acted more like a bird then anything.

Something he found rather adorable.

The way you would flutter around, swooping from shelf to shelf. Or perching yourself up on a beam as you read. Or his favourite, when you preened your wings.

Unlike what you would expect, you would often preen them using your mouth, the sight being rather adorable.

The two of you became a deeply close relationship and for a while it seemed like everything was going to be perfect.

That was until you asked what he did for a living.

Normally Striker wouldn't hesitate to tell someone he was a professional killer, or at the very least lie about it.

But he was actually scared of how you'd react, you weren't the most casual person when it came to killing others.

So after calming his nerves he came clean about his profession.

While initially you were perturbed by this revelation, usually you'd tell someone something like that on at least the second date.

But Striker was still Striker, the same Striker you could turn from a cocky little imp into a blushing cowboy with a few choice words.

You loved him, and with that assurance he could start taking jobs again, and while it broke your heart whenever he got injured,

You understood. It wasnt about Money, it was the sport. And whenever he disappeared for a job, he would always come back to you. Always.

I won't lie, not the biggest fan of writing for Striker, theres just lots about him and we don't really know enough about him yet. But I still enjoyed making the piece. I didn't directly make it a fem reader, but hope I left it vague enough for everyone to enjoy. Thanks y'all for reading.

[twatshag]

♤crack drabbles with the haikyuu boys next to their crushes♤

Warnings: just the boys being a bunch of weirdos and embarrassing themselves in front of y/n

Genre: fluff, crack

Pairings: kuroo, miya Atsumu and Miya osamu

—----------------------------------------------—

Miya Atsumu

You came along with kita to help out with some things in the gym since your one of the members of the student council

Checking everything to make sure that everything was in order for you to give him the okay for the new practice idea kita had planned

You're a second year and a very good student so it was quite the surprise when you were invited to join the student council as only third years were accepted

You were classmates with the Miya twins and suna so you weren't really new to their antics yet alone the volleyball team as you were popular for your position at inarizaki high

Atsumu was so excited to hear that you're going to be coming over to the gym thinking about the many ways he could impress you to land a date with you

But to his dismay kabedoning you 3 meters away from the wall only for him to fall face flat when you ducked out of his caging arms wasn't really one of his plans to impress you

"Are you alright Miya-san?!" You called out eyes wide at how the boy in front of you laid face flat and mumbling how life is so cruel to him and maybe if he was a volleyball he would've been happier face and tip of his ears redder than a tomato

"L/n-san can ya come check if da storage room looks alrite?" Kita called out for you. you left the faux blonde still face flat on the floor still too embarrassed to get up

Glancing one last look at him wondering if he has iron deficiency to fall face flat while trying to talk to you

Osamu: quite ta skills ya got tere 'sumu

Suna: you did so well I have it all on video to take notes for the next girl I approach

Earning a loud groan from the faux blonde as he got up telling them to shut up.

Yeah they never shut up about it and atsumu gets so red whenever he sees you in the hall and you wave at him. He probably runs past you too. And kita would scold him for being rude and also for running in the hallway.

Safe to say, atsumu learned that kabedon is done 1 inch to the wall and maybe it's not that effective in real life. But hey maybe if you try it out it'll work?

Miya Osamu

He is a strong believer of food is the key to anyone's heart

You and osamu were table partners you both helped each other and got well acquainted over time

You both could say you were really good friends

Osamu has had the biggest crush on you for ages glaring at any guy you talked to and getting all in your business with the dumbest excuses

He thought it'd be great to make you something small like cupcakes and confess who doesn't love cupcakes right?

He read a few recipes and made different types of cupcakes and during lunch time he asked if youd like to have lunch with him

Of course you agreed very excited to have lunch with the Miya osamu

He sat down and gave you the box of cupcakes sadly out of the many flavours he's baked you chose the one you were allergic to

You ate it so fast not processing what flavour it was exactly and he was about to start confessing until you started choking

His soul left his body at that point you were coughing and gasping apologising for the way you handled his sweetly cupcakes until you were rushed to the nurses office

Of course it wasn't deadly for you but it sadly isn't the most comfortable experience for dessert that your body refused to have.

Till this day he is unable to look you in the eye embarrassed to ever talk to you about food again

Yes you reassured him it wasnt his fault

Yes you tried to talk to him

But hes just traumatised its okay girl just give him some time to try again

Atsumu: and ya call me an abusive pig you just made a girl choke on yer cupcakes!

Osamu: please for ta love of god shut up before a make ya

Aran: I believe your idea was cute osamu but that truly wasn't the way to confess you brought a whole other meaning to getting your face stuffed with food

Suna: ahaha word

Resulting in him banging his head against the gym grounds and wishing that he didn't mess up his chance at being your boyfriend. Don't worry though you'll fix that right? Its not like he tried to kill you........that requires a lot of strong will may you add.

Kuroo Testuro

Bless his soul he was just trying to be a good friend or maybe more

Being nekoma's volleyball manager sure was a challenge but you loved the boys so much!

Especially their captain oh boy was he hot but hey you were still new to finding out about your crush on him so you weren't very very flustered

His pick up lines did get you flustered though little do you know he gets flustered when you smile at him

Today he decided he wanted to ask you out but to his surprise you were talking to some guy and he was being very "touchy" with you in his opinion

He rolled his eyes and he didnt even read if you were comfortable or not because his ass was too jealous

Being the volleyball team captain he always wanted to make sure everyone was okay and safe

Kuroo walked over yanking the boy away from you and glaring at him

"KUROO-SAN WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO MY KOHAI?!"

Yeah he wanted the ground to crack and swallow him

Stuttering out shocked apologises with the biggest blush on his face

Yeah he couldn't face you for a while cringing everytime at the memory

Kenma: you know you could've just done it nonchalantly instead making a scene like that..

Kuroo: here's your psp, play

Kenma: but y-

Kuroo: I SAID PLAY

Yeah kuroo isn't a fan of mirrors anymore poor guy can't even face himself anymore bless his soul maybe you could kiss it better?

—----------------------------------------------—

A/N: IM SO FULL OF ENERGY I FEEL LIKE I CAN WRITE FOR HOURS WOOHOO hope ya enjoyed

-kira

[what-the--curtains]

There Are No Wolves in the Desert

Part 2 - The Tell Tale Knife

(Oberyn Martell x f!reader)

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

Summary: After the death of his paramour Oberyn seeks out a local mercenary known as the Shadow Hunter, but who he finds is more valuable than he could have imagined.

Authors notes: Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs! I’ve loved Robb and Oberyn since I read the books like 10 years ago now (yes my parent gave me that book when I was like 13 😂) I’m so happy to finally write down whats been in my head for years! Thank you for letting me share it with you💕💕 as per usual let me know if youd like a tag (or untag)!

Tw: Alcohol, violence, threats of sexual assault, swearing, nudity (implied), mentions of sex.

Word count: 4.5 k

Tagged: @evyiione @ayamenimthiriel @xsadderdazeforeverx @agingerindenial (if i missed anyone please let me know im the worst for tagging!!)

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

3 years later

The days passed slowly while you remained tucked away, out of sight from those seeking to do you harm. A generous payment kept you safe in the attic of a local blacksmith, the promise of more ensuring you wouldn't be sold out. Once the imminent threat of assasination was over you focused on staying alive, finding the dragon queen becoming a distant memory, one that would have to wait until a more opportune moment presented itself. You used the last of your funds to purchase a horse and sought out work where you could. For a while you served as a healer to those returning from the fighting pits and other skirmishes occurring between nearby cities, until a Lannister soldier showed up searching for you. After that you moved further out of town finding work at a tavern miles from the city walls catering to a variety of characters travelling from near and far.

The owners were good folk, a retired sculptor, her wife and two young children. You’d stopped in for a drink with plans on heading further south, but an incident changed your course. A man came in threatening the owners demanding a payout when you’d stepped in, the man thought it would be easy, and it was at least for you. You helped them bury the body and they’d asked you to stay and so you did; tending to bar, training the horses and offering protection when needed. In return they offered you a bed, hot meals and a small salary despite your insistence that room and board was more than enough. It was a quiet life, a simple life, but one you enjoyed greatly. The noise of war and murder a ditant cry. Only in your sleep were you reminded of the cruelty of the world. The restful days quickly turned to weeks and it wasn't long until a year had passed, as had the memories of who you were.

The rumour of your murder had spread slowly from king landing, uttered from between the poisonous lips of Cersei Lannister, a lie you prayed one day would come back to haunt her. The day the news reached the ears of your employers you knew it was time to leave, and you rode back through the golden gates of the city. You’d resold the horse to a palace guard whose wife worked with the royal stables, training them, breeding them, caring for them, a good place for a faithful friend to live out its days. Noticing the weapons on your back the guard offered you a fee to find and kill a man who had snuck into the palace and murdered three of his wife's favourite horses after their daughter had refused his hand in marriage. He was dead within the hour, and from there the word of your skill in both tracking and murder got around amougst the nobility, and you fell haphhazourdly into mercenary work. If there was one skill you could rely on, it was your ability to unabashedly kill and you quickly became one of Dornes finest assassins. You fell into the work, the ease at which you became accustomed to it frightened you at first, but you had been hardened by loss, and it wasn't as if you hadn’t killed before.

Any semblance of emotional morality long forgotten, unable, or not wanting to have it all come seeping back, fearful of what may surface as a result. Most of your money went to keeping you fed, well rested and off any enemy radars. After the first month, money became more lucrative and you had splashed out on new armoury and weapons, nothing flashy like some of the more ornate dornish assassins who made a show of their profession. They were harmless, though admittedly annoying and from what you heard, not nearly as impressive as they boasted. Your armour was simple, lightweight leather over loose, breathable cloth, and a dark cloak, Its hood heavy and kept drawn well up over your eyes obscuring your face from prying eyes at all times. A shadow on the wall. Your weapons were similar to your clothes, your short swords and longbow were well crafted and durable, no decoration but for a few carved vines wrapped around their ends. Your only remaining identifiers were your eyes, and the dagger belonging to your late husband which stayed with you at all times, always within reach. Any remaining money was hidden away about the city, a retirement fund if you will, assuming you lived that long.

There were bonuses beside finances in your line of work, your ability to disappear into a crowd kept you in touch with the rumour mill. Words and secrets would fall from drunken mouths carelessly. Most of it stank worse than the horse's field after rain, but there were some that rang true, and a few that even brought a rare smile to your face. A young woman had spoken loudly about Tywin Lannister's death and how he’d supposedly died on the privy, causing you to snort into your soup, a fitting end for a coward of a man.

A month later you heard that the prince of Dorne had gone to King's Landing to fight for Tyrion, where he supposedly defeated a man standing well over 12 feet tall. A tall tale of a tall man you think, knowing how royal always sought to increase the truth of their abilities. You had also heard the unfortunate news of Ellaria Sands poisoning , the venom not reaching her veins until the ship had sailed out, no remedy to be found on the vaste seascape. It was a shame, she and the Sand Snakes were skilled adversaries here and they had since scattered in search of answers and allies around the seven kingdoms, to help avenge their mother. The prince apparently had to be restrained to stop him from turning the ship around, that was a story you found more believable. From what you’d heard the prince may have many lovers but he would go to war for any of them. You’d never seen his face, except for on the back of coins or from a distance. If you had you may have noticed him enter into the tavern where you sat awaiting your payment from your most recent client.

Your eyes stay on the table, your hood pulled up well over your forehead giving you a frightening silhouette beneath the candlelight that was beginning to glow more prominently as the sun set. The young man who commissioned you entered, he stank of wine and privilege, but he was rich and the payment promised was well worth putting up with his unsavoury personality. His true odor protrudes through the thin veil of perfume attempting to mask his stench, alerting you to his presence well before he’d sat down. Your time alone had heightened your tracking skills, a side effect of living under the constant threat of being hunted. The wiry man sits down next to you, his thin fingers snapping under your eyes in an attempt to get your attention, you inhale deeply, drawing yourself back to your displeasing reality and forced social interactions.

“Where's the money?” you ask, knife whittling a notch out of the table's leg with Robbs dagger.

“Where the head?” he retorts, and you pull out a small sack, shoving it into his hand watching as he pulls at the drawstring, opening the velvet bag. He raises his eyebrows and pulls out the index finger you'd removed from the corpse.

“Head was…. indisposed. I hope this satisfies,” you murmur, this job had been messier than you intended. You typically weren't so reckless especially with a noble.

“ Very much so, ” he says taking it and turning it in his hands

“The money then,” you restate, tone flat.

“Well there's one more... proposition I had.” He states, hand resting down on your thigh.

“I'll take the money for this job then you can hand me the next target,” you respond, sighing heavily, used to people getting handsy with you.

“You can make extra on this job if you play your cards right,” he whispers, hand running up your thigh. The other reaches up to pull back on your hood within seconds your dagger had impaled his hand, pining it to the table. His wail of anguish causes the heads in the tavern to turn briefly towards the scene before returning to their lively chatter.

“You stupid bitch,” he spits making a grab for the knife but you reach forward pushing it further into the table leaning in towards him.

“The money, or I cut off your head and mount it on the wall of this tavern,” you say, louder than intended.

Oberyn watches from the bar in amusement , the last time he’d seen fire like that had come from Ellaria. He needed someone to help get his revenge, someone willing to murder a man in front of witnesses, his birds had been right, this mercenary was the one for the job.

You rip the knife from the man's hand as he throws you the coinpurse you were owed you reach for it as he stands.

“Bitch,” he spits, liquid hitting the side of your face as he pulls down your hood “you better watch you back mercenary, I'll be taking you from behind in no time.” He snarls, as you hurry to pull your cover back up.

“Clever,” you retort, wiping your face, shaking out the purse and counting your pay out. Empty threats. Or threats you didn’t care about, you could kill scum like that in your sleep, and you had. You mutter another curse under your breath at being exposed, the latest delay in dye shipments had allowed the roots of your white hair to protrude through, lucky everyone inside was too drunk to notice. The money from the job was enough to keep a roof over your head for the foreseeable future, maybe even enough for a bath, it was getting to be that time. You go to stand, you had an ‘appointment’ in town, one with a handsome payout. Before you can stand you see a pair of hands adorned in jewellery slip into your view a scent of sweet fruit and honey indicating a cleanliness and a high status, a very high status, your appointment could wait.

Obery was observant, his eyes had been glued to you even while conversing with the beautiful patrons of the bar, not wanting to lose you in the crowd. “The shadow tracker”. That’s what you had been dubbed by those residing in the city according to his sources, clients of yours pleased with your services, services he was in need of. It seems you may bear more than one secret identity, it may have been for the briefest second, but the colour of your hair stood out against the dark fabric you wore. It intrigued him, white hair was uncommon in those of your age, very rare. In fact he only knew of one person still alive with such a trait. The other, one whom he’d sent a wedding gift to years prior, was long dead, or so the Lannister would have him believe, and when has he ever trusted the word of child murderers. He may have come here in seek of a mercenary, but what he found may prove to be even more valuable to his cause.

“Payments 50 for a nobody, rate goes up with each class, royals are above my paygrade, and nobles will cost you at least 6 of those fancy rings on your fingers,” you list, taking note of the martell sigil embellished on one of the larger rings.

“How much would it be to convince a wolf to take down a Lion,” he queries, hunching his head down to try and catch a glimpse of the eyes under the hood. Your heart drops.

“Above the pay grade, couple down at the docks have a death wish, you might try your luck there,” you explain, deepening your voice slightly in an attempt to disguise yourself.

“And what would be your wish, if you could have it?” he queries, leaning back kicking his feet up onto the stool beside you. As he does the yellow of his robes come into your peripheral the suns intricately stitched on, shining against the murk of the tavern's tile floor.

“To be left alone,” you chide, this was someone well acquainted with the royals here, you didn't deal with royalty, more trouble than they're worth.

“What's that old saying? The lone wolf dies, or am I mistaken? ” he returns, chuckling slightly.

“I don’t know who you think I am but I assure you…” you say, eyes finally raising, only then realizing the prince of Dorne sat before you, at least based on his impression on one of the coins in your hand.

“Lady Stark, I was hoping we’d meet face to face,” he remarks, the long forgotten address catching you off guard causing your eyes to shoot back down.

“Lady Stark died, the Lannisters ground up her body and fed it to the king's direwolf before killing it, haven’t you heard?” you say sarcastically, pulling your knife out of the table, unsure if he’d recognized it.

“Propaganda, set to diminish the power of the north,” he says, watching the blade intently as it's pulled from the table.

“I do not know if Lady Stark is alive, but for a price I could find out, granted you tell me what you need her for,” you mutter.

“I did not come here in search of Lady Stark. I came seeking a mercenary, the so-called “shadow tracker” however, this is a most welcome surprise, as for why I need you, or her, the answer is revenge plain and simple.”

“Is that what they call me?” you remark “ So you seek out a mercenary only to find something better, something you can trade?” you pose shaking your head.

“No, I needed an assassin, but found something better. Something more lethal.” He pauses.

“Which is?” you prompt, hoping to end this conversation sooner rather than later.

“One they think is dead. Besides I figured Lady Stark would want the opportunity to take down the Lannisters.”

“I assume she would, though she may think the offer stands too good to be true,” you state, gathering up your payment and making your exit he follows suit, stopping briefly to gently nudge his hand under the chin of an attractive man standing near the door, no doubt planning on returning later.

“The desert is no place for a wolf,” he calls after you, a significant distance between the two of you now.

“I shall let you know if I see such a sight, my prince,” you shout, dramatically curtsying before turning on your heel and walking off. He smiles before re-entering the tavern.

A week later

You stroll through the dark alleys of the city, a few years ago you wouldn’t have dared ventured out so late. The woods were known to you, their dangers and sights predictable, but the city was uncharted territory. While a bear could be trusted to do as bears do, the movements of man were less predictable. Your work kept you attune to the veins of the city and the people that coursed through them. You knew where to go and where to avoid depending on the day. You knew the sounds, able to pick out when something was amiss and tonight something was. The usual scurry of the rats below or the call of the parrots from above were absent, someone had been through here and not long ago. Your hand dips into the folds of your cape and you throw your dagger catching a man in the neck. You lean over and remove it from his jugular, the blood flowing out from the wound. Before you can turn him over, something hits you knocking you forward onto your stomach. You’re lifted from the ground by the nape of your neck. Your hoods pulled down and your head pulled up to see the foul smelling client and two other assassins standing before you.

“Dirron, Brant, always a pleasure” you snarl

“No hard feelings Shadow, you’re taking out all the business” Brant responds.

“How much is he paying you? Not enough I bet he didn't pay me enough. I'll double it if you let me walk.” you plead, but they shake their heads.

“I paid you more than your worth,” he spits, gesturing to the man behind you and he lifts you up slamming you into a nearby wall pressing your face against the rough brick. You can taste the blood beginning to gather in your mouth. He releases you, handing you over to the unpleasant smelling man who brings the dagger you’d dropped into your view, pressing the steel against your cheek as he begins to speak.

“This dagger belonged to Robb Stark.”

“Did it? I stole it from a client months ago,” you say, elbowing him in the stomach causing him to drop the blade. You catch it, and drive it deep into his knee. He falls, and you unsheathe his sword and throw it catching Dirron in the chest. The large brute gets to you before your next move knocking you in the stomach and pinning you back up against the wall.

“Told you I'd have you from behind,” the client says, limping over to you and spitting on the side of your face. As the moisture hits your flesh a spear pierces through his chest , pinning him to a nearby crate as the remaining two men scatter. You push yourself up spinning to see the prince standing in the alley picking up your dagger.

“Of all the souvenirs to keep, this…” he starts, examining the blade before continuing “ is the most telling. Even with your distinct traits, the Young Wolf's knife is well known, especially by those who saw it made. Dornish steel,” he explains tossing it in the air catching it by the blade and handing it back to you by its handle.

“As I just finished explaining to your dear friend there, I stole that,” you lie, taking it from him.

“No you didn’t,” he says, eyes bright even in the dark, a familiar smirk on his lips, clearly bemused by your attempts at lying.

“Yes I did,” you retort, refusing to let up on your façade.

“Shall we debate it over a drink?” he asks, retrieving his spear from the client's body which falls to the ground with an unpleasant thunk.

“A prince slumming it with the poor?” you ask watching as he uses the dead man's silks to wipe his weapon before turning back to you.

“My enjoyment of life precludes class,” he says offering you his arm

“As you speak from your riches,” you point out, watching him run his tongue along his upper lip.

“We are not as antiquated in our ideologies here, class here is less pronounced” he assures you.

“Is it?” you argue, pushing down on his extended arm and he shrugs his shoulder in defeat, pride faltering only for a fragment of a second at the notion of being rejected. The streets are busy tonight, the warm weather bringing the people out en masse to enjoy the city's nightlife. He brings his hand up to usher you into a nearby tavern by the small of your back, but thinks twice and drops it, not wanting to lose it. As you enter he raises his hand and winks at the barkeep before following you towards the back near the window sill.

“What will it cost you?” you inquire as he sits down, watching over his shoulder as the person behind the bar pours out a decanter of wine.

“What?” he asks, the downturn of his mouth and creased forehead painting a picture of confusion.

“To let me leave here, to keep this a secret, the two men who escaped know who I am now. My time here is up.” you confess as the decanter is placed on the table the bartenders hands trailing across his shoulders causing him to smile fondly up at them.

“I do not wish you to be found. It would ruin the plans I have,” he says, slowly turning his attention back to you, offering you wine. You stare at the decanter, then to him before shaking your head causing him to chuckle

“What? Have I said something amusing? “ you question, almost annoyed.

“Untrusting,” he remarks, taking a sip of the liquid before offering it to you once again. You reach over the table grabbing the cup from his hand.

“I am untrusting because in my experience people cannot be trusted,” you explain taking a sip.

“You husband certainly lied about marrying the Frey girl,” he remarks, leaning back into his seat, arms spreading out across the chairs back.

“I’ve never been married,” you state, wanting nothing more than to punch the smug look off his face.”

“You're good,” he says, eyes giving you the once over.

“At what?”

“Lying, well perhaps not good per say but committed, i'll give you that, you fight in a similar manner.” he presses, hoping to get a rise out of you.

“So, you think I can’t fight,” you say, shaking your head with a laugh

“Your words,” he states.

“I did not come here to be insulted by the likes of you, prince or not,” you scold, sitting up.

“I didn't mean to offend,” he remarks, eyes watching your movements, evidently he’d touched a nerve.

“Didn’t you?” you query, tilting your head.

“No, truly it was not my intention, I merely believe upon improvement,” he explains.

“Hard to improve without practice, hard to practice on your own,” you state, moving to leave, the prince drawing too much attention than you wanted on you. You down the rest of your wine and utter a ‘thank you for the drink’ before bidding him a farewell and exiting the bar. You don't make it far, seemingly unable to shake him.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“That’s privileged information,” you say, turning to face him walking backwards along the cobbled streets. His eyes fall to you before looking up to the heavens, the stars were bright tonight illuminating his features. The rumours of him held true in one area undoubtedly, he was handsome.

“Come back to the palace with me.” He says, eyes still gazing up at the sky.

“I have no intention of divulging in your pleasure my prince, my heart belongs to another, I swore I wouldn’t stray from him even in death,” you reply, turning back to walk forward spitting blood out onto the street, sure one of your teeth must have been knocked out in the earlier fight.

“While I disagree with more than one of those statements I did not mean to imply, though I would be remiss to say it wouldn’t be of great honour. I heard the Young Wolf betrayed an entire kingdom for you.” he says eyes once again on you, trying to catch a glimpse of your features obscured by the hood.

“Are you suggesting I got my husband killed?” you muse, hearing him tut in disagreement

“You’re dirty, you’re tired, you’re injured and at risk of murder, the palace offers you a safe place to recuperate.”

“And what do you expect in return?” you ask.

“I simply wish to offer you a proposition once you are rested, if you decline, you are free to leave. I will ensure you are transported to a safe location where no one knows you.”

Perhaps it was the itching of your skin, or the way the dye was clinging your out of control hair or maybe it was being allowed to be who you once were, but you agree.

“This is Shana she will help you, unless you prefer a male companion, though I would gladly offer my services” he says, gesturing to an older woman of great beauty.

“I can bath myself, thank you though,” you say, turning and nodding to the woman who bows her head and exits the bathhouse.

“Whatever you wish, I'll have her bring you clothes while we clean yours... if we can clean yours” he muses, the remark cracking a smile in your icy demeanour. He leaves and you undress placing your clothes outside the door as requested. Your bare feet feel refreshed against the cool orange tiles of the bath house, the area evidently meant for the use of many people. Multicoloured tulip petals float atop the water filling your nostril with an aroma unlike one you’d ever known. The steam from the water rises in the cool air of the night and you dip your toe in water proceeding to the steps.

You stride into the water allowing your lower half to adjust to the heat before fully sinking in to cover your shoulder. Immediately the dye in your hair begins to leak into the water blending together with the built up mud and blood that has been stuck to you since your last clean. You scrub your skin until the scars scattered across your body are once again visible in the moonlight. Your hand pauses over the wound above your shoulder, memories of Robb flooding back in, as you assume your true identity for the first time in years.

You dunk your head under the water, scrubbing to remove grime from your face and to work out the last of the dye until it's all gone, your hair returned to its original state. You stay in the water for a while enjoying the heat, but sitting in your own filth is no longer a luxury and you stand up and dry yourself off. Pulling on a robe hung up for you as if they knew you’d be there that night. The cool air hits you as you exit, a welcome relief compared to the heavy heat carried around while wearing your armour. One of the palace guards leads you to your bed chamber, the bed is large and the room even larger. Tiles from floor to ceiling apart from the windows which opened up to the balcony allowing the breeze in at night. You step out onto it, hand trailing through the flowers growing along the bannisters. You thank the guard and he closes the large wooden doors leaving you to change into an orange gown true to the style in Dorne. The thin material leaves little to the imagination, but it would prove good for sleeping though not much else. You turn your head to the room's table where clothes better suited for your line of work sit. Your weapons had been cleaned and lined up across the corner of the room, your dagger shined and stabbed into the wood, holding a note in place.

“Dramatic,” you chuckle, pulling out the knife retrieving the note and opening it ‘winter is coming’ you recognize the handwriting immediately, it had been years but you'd never forgotten the letter you'd received the day at the docks. Perhaps the prince could be trusted after all. You hesitate before folding the note up and placing it back down on the table, walking over to the large bed and falling asleep with the knife tucked securely under your pillow, just in case.

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - prologue

photo credits: unknown

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, general criminal minds warnings. 18+, minors do not interact. 

summary - One of the biggest names in Hollywood, your relationship with Aaron Hotchner was kept on a strict need to know basis. When he unexpectedly ended things, you struggled moving on from a relationship barely anyone knew ever existed. Now, nearly two years later, a new unsub has taken a special interest in you. When the BAU is called in, secrets come out and Hotch and his team will have to race against the clock to save you from an untimely end. 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

-----

You weren’t sure how much longer you could stomach this. This was the fourth woman to be murdered in your name. It was like clockwork, every two weeks a new body was discovered. Each woman eerily similar to you and in their mouths there was always a piece of paper that had the title of a movie you had been in, a different title each time. The police had no leads, no suspects, not even a sliver of DNA to try and run off of. All they had been able to do was certify you weren’t the one behind the murders. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the deaths wouldn’t be stopping any time soon and that the police weren’t even close to breaking the surface of the case.

Officer Reynolds sat across from you, when the murders began her soft gaze and gentle voice had once been a source of comfort. But now, it was just a tell that you were being called back into the police station, not because they had found the culprit, but rather another body turned up. 

“Miss L/N, did you hear me?” 

"I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Miss, we’ve called in for a team of specialists from the FBI. They’re arriving tonight. They’re trained in-”

"Did you call in the BAU,” you quickly cut her off, eyes wide with a mix of emotions Office Reynolds couldn’t quite place. 

“Oh, yes we did. Have you, um, worked with them before?” Officer Reynolds asked, her face twisted in confusion. 

“No, no. I’ve just heard of them. Once, a very long time ago. I heard they’re really good at what they do. Which is a good thing, a really good thing. Thank you for calling them in, I appreciate it,” you were practically choking on your own words, but unable to stop, “can I leave now?” 

Officer Reynolds stared at you as if she had something to say, her confusion at your sudden change in demeanor written clear across her face. Her mouth opened as if to say something, before smashing her lips together in a tight line and nodding her head. 

“You’ll need to be back tomorrow in the morning Miss L/N, the team is going to need to speak with you directly about the case,” she said, giving you another one of those ‘comforting’ looks. 

“Of course, I’ll be here,” with that you took a deep breath to steel your nerves. You quickly grabbed your things and exited the room. In a flash you exited the building, nearly running into your car. In your haste, you failed to notice the faint clicking sound of a camera coming from the tree line. The entire drive home only one thought was on your mind. 

He was coming. 

On the other side of the country, the BAU was staring at the files being downloaded onto their tablets. They had been called in rather unexpectedly, for a case that had ‘highest priority’ according to correspondence from LAPD.

“I’m sorry to bring you all in at such an hour, but LAPD is nervous about an oncoming media nightmare,” JJ said, pointing the remote towards the screen, a photo of you popped up. No one noticed as Hotch swallowed harder at the sight of you, his knuckles turning ever so slightly white as he gripped the table. “This is Y/N L/N,” JJ continued, “over the past two months, four women who resemble her have turned up dead in LA and the surrounding area. A piece of paper with the title of a movie she’s been in has been found in each victim’s mouth as well, different titles each time. LAPD has no leads.” The photos of the four women filled the screen as well, the similarities they all held exemplified on the big screen.   

“Four women in two months, with such a clear connection? Why are we only being called in now,” Derek asked. 

“LAPD thought they’d have it under control. They’re used to big celebrities being stalked or targeted. But they’re hitting dead end after dead end, so far the dump sites have been spread out enough to avoid media attention, they’re not trying to push their luck any further,” JJ explained, pausing for a moment she lifted her head up from the tablet in front of her, “all the files should be downloaded by now, LAPD wants us there tonight, the jet is being prepared now, we’ll meet with Y/N in the morning and go from there.” 

 “Y/N won’t be there when we arrive?” Hotch interjected, hyper aware of how every agent turned to look at him. 

“No, the contact said she left pretty quickly after getting the news we were being called in, but promised to come in in the morning,” JJ replied, already moving out of her seat. With that, Hotch’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, a motion missed by the rest of the room. 

“We’ll debrief more on the plane. Garcia, I want you to figure out everything you can about the victims. In the morning, Emily and Reid, I want you two to talk with L/N and see if she knows anything useful. Derek and I will visit the last dump site for clues LAPD might’ve missed. Dave and JJ, I want you covering our media trail, make sure nothing gets out unless we authorize it,” Hotch ordered, his voice tighter than usual, “Y/N-, L/N’s status means it’s of utmost importance that we keep a low profile, we don’t want to send the unsub underground before we even step in the building,” he finished, internally flinching at his almost automatic response to refer to you by your first name. If anyone was curious about his mild slip up, they didn’t show it. As the agents all quickly filed out of the room, grabbing their go bags and heading to board the plane, Hotch only had one thought on his mind. 

He was coming.

-----

a/n - wow, hi anyone reading this! this is my first time ever writing fic, im nervous and excited and so happy to be sharing this with you! chapter 1 is in the works and will be much longer than the prologue! if youd like to be added to the taglist, send me a reply or ask! minors do not engage/interact, 18+ ONLY

no permission is given to copy or repost my work anywhere else. if you see this story anywhere besides my tumblr or ao3 account, it is stolen work. 

taglist: @mac99martin​ @iwaizumiee​ @kylorendrip​ 

[pacifymebby]

Teachers / Bondy

Part 5

"Saw you sneaking off with Johnny this morning," said Rosie, pulling her coat tight around her body as you wandered slowly down the raod to the school gates.

You had been glad to find out you had duty with her, glad that you wouldn't be stuck pacing the grounds over break time on your own or with an uncomfortable stranger making strangled conversation.

"Yeah," you nodded, thinking back in your morning with a flutter in your chest. Remembering how close you'd stood to him, how close you had felt.

"You looked cosy in assembly," she said, looking to you with prying curious eyes. Like she already knew and to be honest you did have a feeling that it had to be obvious.

You were certain this kind of crush couldn't be subtle.

"Well that's not what I'd call it," you smirked rolling your eyes at her, you didn't really want to tell Rosie all the gory details of your tragic teenage crush on her friend because well, he was after all her friend and they'd known eachother far longer than they'd known you, so you could be pretty certain she'd let slip anything you told her. And you couldn't stand the thought of Johnny finding out.

"Well, it's what me an anyone else who saw you would call it," she said with a smirk, teasing you and delighting in the blush which lit up your cheeks. Sent you caving in.

"It's not me it's him!" you giggled then, "I don't know what to do I can't tell if he's flirting with me or not!"

"Oh," grinned Rosie, "he definitely is!" but you still weren't sure and though you spent the rest of your day trying not to think about him, or whether he was flirting with you, or what exactly he had in mind for you after school, you couldn't help but be distracted by him at every turn. 

You didn't even see him, didn't bump into him as you wandered back in from duty splitting with Rosie at the end of the corridor, didn't catch a glimpse of him from your classroom window as you taught Romeo and Juliet to a room full of half hearted year nines. In 4th period you took yourself off to the library in a weak attempt to distract yourself with lesson plans, a couple scenes of Shakespeare, trying to think of some creative way you could teach sonnets to year eights. You'd not really been expecting to see him in the library but you'd been unable to shake the childish hope that you might meet him through the bookshelf as you picked up a copy of Midsummer Nights Dream and revealed the aisle the other side, like a little window in the shelf. It would have been cheesy and tragic, something straight out an American rom com, nauseating, and really you felt lucky that you didn't happen to meet him that way. But still, you couldn't deny you were disappointed not to. You kept thinking back on your morning, smoking in his shadow, talking quietly, joking almost awkwardly with one another at the school gate. Wishing he'd say something more, reveal something about him that would level the playing field, take you up a step towards friendship. 

You kept thinking back on the magnetism you'd felt every time your eyes had flickered up to his. How you'd felt like leaning in. How you knew that if you ever found yourself that close to him again youd be unable to stop yourself. You'd be drawn in, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, entranced by him. 

However, as much as your mind may have enjoyed wandering back to thoughts of him, you weren't so lucky as to run into him.

And when at lunch you found he was on duty, that you really wouldn't be seeing him until the end of the day your heart sank and you felt childish for being so disappointed. He was one man, and it was one day that you'd known him. That wasn't long enough to feel someone's absence the way that you did and yet there you were. Feeling at a loss without him, craving his company, that lackadaisical presence which was far more addictive than you'd first realised it would be. His lazy, cheeky smile. His eyes which lit up with mischief every time he cracked a joke.

It was tragic to say it but actually he was ever present on your mind and no matter what else you tried to concentrate on, be it lessons, the homework you were setting, or the gossip Rosie was telling you about over a cigarette, he was a distraction. A pleasant distraction you couldn't help but entertain. You'd no desire to ignore the thought of him because the thought of him left a smile on your lips and a lightness in your chest.

"Where the fucks Johnny?" asked Eva as she struggled to light her cigarette. It was a warm day but it was windy and as you stood trying to shield your own cig from the weather you worried over what the wind was doing to your hair.

You were hoping to at least look a little presentable by that evening when you would make your way to his classroom.

Though his absence all day was beginning to make you question whether the invite still stood.

"Last I saw he was getting cosy with y/n in assembly..." smirked Rosie dropping you in it with a devilish smile.

"Piss off," you snorted almost choking on your cigarette as you laughed her off, your cheeks flushing a violent red when Bob and Eva started sniggering along with her.

"Oh aye I saw that," grinned Bob, "saw yas both sneaking off for a cig an all.." he said then adding to the girls teasing and giggling. Their conspiratorial chatter leaving you blushing all the way to your afternoon classes where once again you struggled to concentrate for the butterfly nerves thoughts of Mr bond conjured up inside you.

🌼🎸

By the time you'd finished for the day youd built up all this awkward nervous energy which had you blushing furiously even at the thought of meeting John after class.

When you passed a colleague in the corridor they smiled and said goodnight and you faltered, so caught up in your own thoughts that it had surprised you to hear a voice outside your head.

When you got to the music department you checked your appearance in an interior window, trying not to make it obvious that that was what you were doing.

You could hear conversation coming from inside Johnny's classroom, the kids hadn't packed up yet and he was having to chivvy them out.

"Cmon lads you're meant to flee at half past its quarter to!" he grinned watching from his desk. Two kids were rolling cigs and another was still lingering around a guitar. "Lasses won't think you're cool staying late after class like," he carried on teasing them, "Daisy Jones will be off with one of them lads from the other half year Dylan, you wanna hurry up off out you do," he was trying to embarrass them but it wasn't working because they were just as quick as he was, firing cheeky remarks straight back.

"You just want us gone so you can catch that new teacher before she goes home..." sniggered one of the lads, almost embarrassing you. You could feel a blush in your cheeks and just before the door opened you decided it would be better to duck out of the way, down a different coridoor to peer at the notices and hope to go unseen by the boys as they left.

The last thing you wanted were embarrassing rumours flying around about you and another teacher. Let alone someone as gorgeous as Johnny who you were already convinced you were going to struggle to look at without blushing now.

"She's fit though int she..." you heard one of them say as they left the classroom, only to be called after my Johnny who had heard them.

"oh yeah I would!" smirked another lad.

Johnny who was smirking at them now, ready to make sure they didn't keep going around school saying things like that about you.

"Oh aye am sure she'll appreciate that, they not teach you owt in English these days? If you're gan swoon after her do it with a bit of pinache lads..." he smirked, taking the piss and putting them in their place so that they left sniggering but certain they wouldn't say it again.

You waited till they'd left, waited until you heard them calling out their goodbyes to their teacher, waited till it was almost silent in the corridor before you dared approach his classroom again. But when you got to the door you realised he wasn't quite alone yet.

He was writing on a shy looking lasses planner, she stood beside the desk with her mate chewing her nails, hovering a little awkwardly. You could see her eyes red like she was trying to hold back tears, and when she left it was her friend with her hand patting the girls back who said thank you and goodbye to their teacher. He just offered them a little smile, nodded his head, told them to make sure they didn't miss the buses.

You watched as the two girls left out the side door of his classroom, a fire door they weren't supposed to use but that he was letting them go through because it lead straight out to the buses.

And when the door closed behind them you hesitated with a knock, wondering what he'd been writing for the girl. Wondering what he was going to say to you when you walked in.

"Was thinkin you were gan skip class on us y/n," he chuckled, you smirking along, watching the door the two girls had left through.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," you smirked, perching on the edge of one of the desks.

It was front and center in the classroom, opposite the whiteboard and as he stood before you, leaning up against the board you looked up at him and felt a tension bristle.

"Oh aye sorry about that, needed the lads to leave so I could write Lydia's PE note..." he smirked trailing off and biting his lip a little uncertain.

"What have you got to do with Lydia's PE note?" you asked, narrowing your eyes with a suspicious smile, watching him crack another almost awkward grin.

"Signing her out of PE aren't a," he shrugged, "nah she's a sweet lass but she gets picked on nobodys business by these girls in her PE class, dead nasty teenage girl stuff ya know..."

"Yeah well I was a teenage girl once so a can imagine," you sighed feeling a little pang in your chest for the poor lass, "no wonder she looked like she was gonna cry when she left..."

"Aye," he said, "teachers don't do owt about it either like so I just started signing her out of class, makin up like she's behind with her coursework..."

"What an that works does it?"

"Hey I know I teach a useless subject but I'm still more important than PE," he chuckled, his laugh inspiring a laugh from you too as the two of you trailed off and you were left thinking how lovely a lad he must really be. He didn't need to look out for his students, didn't need to give a shit about them at all other than what went on in his own class, but he very clearly did. Now you were beginning to understand why they all warmed to him so much, why they weren't afraid to give him a bit of cheek and mess around with him. Why they seemed to respect him.

It was because he was clearly one of those rare teachers who deserved it.

"You must be a really good teacher, your kids really seem to like you," you said but he just shook his head and smirked, not embarrassed but certainly self concious.

"Aye well am signing em out of PE, course they do," he chuckled and though you wanted to object, tell him there was more to it than that, you didn't, you just laughed along and smiled and let the moment fizzle into quiet. You looking up at him trying to hide your admiration. Him smirking down at you.

He was looking down at you, his eyes lingering on yours, watching you, subtle admiration there. You felt seen, felt like you were being watched. Suddenly self concious of everything, your hair, your makeup, whether you were smiling or whether your resting bitch face was putting him off.

"So what're you gan teach me then Mr Bond?" you asked, leaning back on your hands, looking up at him expectantly. Putting on a cheeky front to hide your shyness now that you were alone. Really alone.

He cracked a delayed grin, tore his gaze away from you and nodded to the guitar in the corner.

It was the one the kids had been lingering around, this white electric like youd seen Nirvana play in videos. It was pretty, but it was battered and scratched up and you couldn't help but wonder whether it was his or the schools.

"She's in a bit of a state, wedding gigs are rough don't you know," he chuckled picking it up and handing it to you, holding onto it until your uncertain hands were sure they'd got it.

You shuffled back on the desk so that your legs were relaxed, hanging over the side. Feet just about skimming the floor.

"Am I holding it right?" you asked, looking up at him with a bit of a blush when he smirked and said almost, reached to take your hand and move it up the neck.

"Almost," he smirked, adjusting it in your lap, "there you go, look like a pro already," he teased painting a little smile on your lips. "Reet so..." he said, chewing the inside of his cheek as he stepped closer to work out what to tell you.

His eyes flickered over you again, drifting from your hand on the fret board for a moment back to your eyes.

"What's the vibe we can do dad rock or we can do..." he trailed off, "actually no, dad rocks all I got,"

You bit back your smile, an almost laugh escaping you as you looked up at him, caught him by surprise with the gleam of your amusement on your lips.

"Dad rock," you smirked, chewing the inside of your cheek, trying to maintain your cool, something which was difficult when he was as close to you as he was. When he was watching you with a small smirk too.

"Aye lass you wanna concentrate, it's tricky stuff," he chuckled, painfully self aware, "don't underestimate dad rock," he said and you shook your head.

"Wouldn't dream of it,"

So then he started showing you where to put your fingers and you felt self conscious, it felt strange and foreign holding a guitar and playing it. It wasn't something you'd ever tried to do before and you couldn't help but giggle a little nervously when you fucked up.

He smiled along though, didn't make you feel daft or uncomfortable. And you were doing fine until he caught your hand. You'd moved to the wrong fret again and the sound had been harsh and sharp and tuneless. You bit your lip and looked up apologetically.

"Ugh shit sorry I'm so bad at this," you said, struggling to keep the guilty little smile off your lips. Even more so when he shook his head and said no.

"Nah you're not, you're just not concentrating," he chuckled, sitting down beside you for a moment, reaching around your back to place his fingers on the fret board where yours should have been, playing the note and filling your body with a static electric pulse when he did. His hand brushing over yours. His fingers picking yours from the fret board and bending them delicately to his will.

"I am concentrating!" you tried to giggle along, tried to hide the way your heart was beating, the way you could feel your heart almost everywhere. The way it was difficult to breath when he was so close to you, his arm around your back. His side against yours.

He was so close to you, his head bowed next to yours. His eyes concentrating on the guitar until you spoke. Until your tore his gaze away back up to you. Your lips which had made a false claim.

"No you're not," he smirked, letting his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, holding your gaze the second time he spoke, "somats distracting you," he said, your lip catching between your teeth as your smile petered out and the air between you grew thick.

It didn't take long then, didn't take long for the magnets between you to pull you both in. His lips meeting yours slowly, the softness of the pull between you, the connection. The sweetness of his kiss as your eyes fluttered shut and you tried not to smile too soon.

But when he should have pulled away he didn't and you began to melt into the kiss. Really melt into it, your head tilting back, eyes fluttered shut, some kind of blissful moment taking over you, all your muscles relaxing. Your fingers unwinding from around the neck of his guitar. But his hand caught it just in time and though you tried to apologise, mumbling a sorry against his lips, he cut you off by deepening the kiss.

You felt the blood warm in your cheeks and your breast, you wanted to open your eyes but you were affraid that if you did he'd see the lust in your eyes and know that you wanted more from him.

More than just a kiss.

His hand found your waist again, smoothed up over the fabric of your cardigan and held you in the palm of his hand. Made you feel delicate and supple like honey dripping from the hive.

You didn't mean to moan against his lips but it escaped you anyway, surprised you and pleased him, you felt him smirking as he nipped your lips and pulled away, placing a kiss to your cheek as he pulled away.

"didnt mean to do that," he breathed as he pulled away, looking at you almost shyly. Smirking like a school boy who'd been caught out. Leaving you to bite back a laugh.

"You sure about that you seemed pretty certain..." you giggled only teasing him, not expecting a defense.

"Aye well, you know what I mean, j didn't mean to do that here..." he said, "in school," he added as if clarification was even at all necessary.

"Yeah I guess we probably shouldn't do that here..." you bit back a naughty school girl smile of your own, glad to see it mirrored on him when you dared to look up at him again.

He was grinning, his eyes wander g over you almost proud.

"You wanna skip class with me and go for a pint?"

[violetnotez]

They find out their s/o is a Party Princess

@memekingofwwiii , you had this fricking adorable idea of Izuku and Shoto fighting with y/n, and then she says she’s gotta leave to put on a dress and go to a tea party, and that got me thinking-What if they left because they were a Party Princess??? So of course as I was in the middle of writing it Tumblr POSTED it, so I had to redo it 😖 but I hope you like these!!!

Pairings: Izuku x reader, Shoto x reader

Scenarios (more like mini fics cause I DONT KNOW WHEN TO STOP TYPING-)

——————————

Izuku

“Hey Deku, you doing okay over there?” You yelled out, swinging your fist towards the thief’s side.

Both you and Izuku were patrolling the city today, as you two had interned with the same agency for the summer vacation. Everyday had been pretty boring since starting the program a few weeks back, but today you had finally found some action: two thugs trying to steal a poor old lady’s purse.

“Doing-just fine-how about you?”He grunted, sending a sharp kick at his opponent’s back, sending him to the ground. Izuku quickly toppled on top of the young man, tying his hands and feet together with some scraps of rope on the ground. Once he was happy with his work, Izuku quickly stood up, looking over at you to see you fighting alone against the other thief. He quickly broke into a run, trying to go and help you as quickly as possible

Throughout the few weeks interning alongside you, Izuku had begun to form a small crush on you. At first sight he had thought you were unbelievably pretty and couldn’t help but blush when seeing you. But as he began to hang out with you, you were quite possibly one of the coolest people he had ever met. You were so kind hearted and sweet to anyone you met, always taking the time to give them a warm greeting or a bright smile. It made his heart race seeing you wave to children on the road, being so gentle with them when they came over and asked if you two were really heroes. You could also be a total bad ass when you wanted to, your snarky remarks and devilish grin making his chest tighten and his heart race.

Right now, though, you were having some trouble, as the thief you were trying to apprehend was giving you a hard time. You swung another fist towards his chest this time, which the thief dodged easily. You grunted under your breath, annoyance and worry riddled in your brows.

“Can we-hurry this up a little!” You shouted between breaths. “I kinda got-places to be right now!”

The man scoffed at you, cracking his fingers. “Nah, sweetie, I’m just getting started!”

You rolled your eyes, hating how the word “sweetie” was directed towards you-but as the thief was busying himself with his knuckles, you sneaked a peak at the time- your party was in 45 minutes...if you got this wrapped up in 5, you could maybe run home, clean up, and drive to the place and might be there on time-

Noticing your distracted stance, the thief began to lunge at you, his large hands aimed for grabbing your head in a deathlock. Luckily, Izuku sprinted over just in time to propel his body at the man, tumbling on the ground as he pinned the thief’s hands on the ground.

“Deku!” You ran over to him, helping him as you pinned the man’s wrists together. That allowed Deku to tie up the thief a little bit easier, the struggling making it quite difficult to even tie a simple knot. But Izuku finished his work very quickly, pushing off the villians back as you let go of his wrists.

You looked at the greenette’s freckled face, his warm grin and bright eyes causing a soft blush to creep on yours. You had to admit it to yourself that this boy was unbelievably handsome, even if he didn’t realize it himself. And the fact that he has just saved you right now-your heart practically stopped at the idea. You wished you could stay longer with him, hating to leave Izuku with the boring task of watching the two thiefs before the police arrived, but you were seriosuly cutting time extremely short.

“Thank you, Izuku,” you said, your breathing still irregular from fighting, “for saving me like that.”

The boy chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back his neck. “Oh, your welcome y/n, it-it wasn’t much, youd do the same-“

Before he could register what was even going on, he felt your hands around his back and your body pressed up against his. Izuku’s brain practically began to malfunction-you were-hugging him? He was never this close to girls,or you for that matter-he could feel how soft your hair was, how wonderfully fresh and sweet your perfume smelled, even how your chest pressed up against him- his cheeks burned bright at that thought, his hands too shaky to wrap around your waist as his eyes were blown wide out of his sockets.

And just as quickly as you had hugged him, you let go, totally oblivious to the blushing mess you had turned Izuku into. Izuku busily tried to hide his cheeks as you quickly whipped your phone out of your hero suit, a curse slipping out of your mouth.

“I’m gonna be late!” You sighed in frustration.

Midoriya blinked a few times, confusion set on his face- “Late for what?” he asked innocently, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“I gotta be at a party-there’s some, entertainment going there that cant be late-“

“Oh, like a magician? I didn’t know you were excited for those type of things,” Izuku asked, watching the two delinquents on the ground.

“Actually, no, not like that,” you stated with a giggle, I’m the entertainment, I’m a party princess-

Izuku shook his head in confusion and looked at you with his eyes wide. How did he not know this about you?

“I started this summer to get some extra cash,” you continued, “it’s been kind of a struggle though juggling my scheduele with the internship. But I’ve been having a lot of fun dressing up and making these kids’ days...I just hope I won’t be late for my next party,”

“When is it?” He asked, his cheeks rosy with the thought of you in a pretty ball gown. He knew you were a kind hearted person, but you going out of your way to make a little child’s day extra special was something he found so endearing. He felt himself fall in love with you just a little more, a small smile gracing his lips.

“In 30 minutes,” you huffed, “I’ll barely have enough time to wash up and get into costume-“

“Well if it’s any help, I’ll stay and wait for the police, I don’t won’t you late for your event,” Izuku gave you a nervous smile, the green in his eyes sparkling like gems.

You gasped in relief, your smile wide as you gave Izuku another hug. “You’re the best Deku!” You yelled, giving his firm body a tight squeeze.

Before you ran off to get yourself ready for your gig, you gave Izuku a kiss on his cheeck, sending his soul over the moon. He was so thankful you ran off so quickly, because you would have deifnitely noticed the red encasing his whole face as his cheeks tingled in the place where you kissed it. He would never get use to your touches, but god did they feel nice!

——————————

Shoto

Shoto was currently helping you train, his intense tasks making you pant from near exhaustion. You knew Shoto would force you to your limits, but god-this boy was merciless.

After you had seen how agile and flexible Shoto was while fighting, you worked up enough courage to ask him to help you train. It was something you admired from afar deifnitely not from checking him out, and you were extremely relieved when he had said yes.

But right now, he was totally destroying your ass.

“Cmon, y/n,” he panted out, “I know your stronger than this.”

his hands were pinning yours to the ground: one icy and one warm.The bi-colored boy had somehow thrown you to the ground yet again, his taut body on top of yours as your cheeks flushed with color from being so close to him. You were so thankful you were also red from over exerting yourself, so he would have no idea you were blushing from being so close to him.

“Well, considering you’ve been throwing me around like a rag doll this whole time,” you quipped tiredly, “I think I’m allowed to be a little tired.”

He cocked his head in confusion, the tips of his red hair melding with his white. “If your tired, why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

Shoto knew you were getting exhausted, but he had been perplexed on why you didn’t tell him you didn’t want to continue. He was having a nice time with you, your movements keeping him on his toes and your snarkiness tugging small grins out of him. He didn’t want to stop, he liked sparring with you, but considering this was just training, he didn’t want to stop until you did.

“Cause...I haven’t gotten a proper move in,” you gave Shiro a devilish grin, making his eyes grow wide. You wrap your legs around his waist, flipping him over so it was now him, not you, who was pinned on the ground.

He couldn’t control his heart from beating so fast-his breath was coming out particularly warm from that flip. Shoto had had a very quiet crush on you for sometime, not fully aware of it himself that he had a small infactuation with you. But how your hands laced around his wrists made his skin tingle, or how your body pressed into his made his body heat up intensely, was hard to ignore.

He stared at your face, unable to ignore the invading thoughts of just how beautiful you looked on top of him, your smile shining triumphantly down at him. He began to get lost in your (e/c) eyes, wishing he could stare at your face all day.

“Alright Shoto, I gotta head out,” you patted his chest nonchalantly, abruptly breaking him out of his daze.

“Thank you for all your help,” you gave him a soft smile as you held out your hand, helping him off the ground. You walked over to grab your water bottle, taking a swing from the container.

“now I gotta go into a nightmare dress...” you grumbled under your breath, sitting down on a bench beside you.

“A nightmare dress?” Todoroki sat down beside you, draping a towel around his damp neck.

“Yeah....long story short, I somehow got wrapped into helping Uraraka with her little cousin’s birthday party. She’s obsessed with this one princess on TV and I apparently I look just like her, so...”

“Uraraka asked you to perform at the party as this character?” he finished your sentence, resting his elbows on his knees in order to look at your face.

You nodded your head as you looked down at the water bottle in your hand, obviously looking a little conflicted. Your smile was no longer on your face, you teeth capturing your lower lip in worry.

Shoto was concerned over your sudden change, missing the warm smile you had sent his way just moments before. He wanted you to smile at him again, as if he was the only one in the world that could make you grin so happily.

“What’s wrong y/n? Are-are you feeling sick?” he asked politely, watching your facial expression closely.

You sighed, lying your head against the wall of the training room.

“I’m just worried I won’t be good at this. I watched the show,got the costume, I did everything I could to make sure her cousin has a good birthday party-I’m just scared the kids will hate me, or maybe I’ll trip and just ruin everything-“

Shoto laid his hand gently on top of yours, the sudden touch forcing you to look at him.

“You are going to be wonderful y/n,” he assured you, his voice soft and full of warmth, “if Uraraka trusted something so important in you, she clearly knows your more than capabale of achieving at this.” He paused slightly, his bi-colored eyes boaring into yours.

“And so do I.”

————————

Taggings (if ya want to be added, just shoot me an ask or comment on this post!)

@orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @freckledoriya

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / OCTOBER 3, 2019 // the trial

(TW SUICIDE)

it's the reveal!!!! love that for her hope shes thriving (shes not) again w the two minutes of the next episode to sync the dates

-lmaoooo so i honestly wonder why they went for the full pulling-it-out-the-throat thing but idk (an interesting foil to her getting sick for more stereotypical reasons ie s2 "people find out theyre grandparents every day"

-I LOVE THIS GEORGE HAIR

-"i'd do anything for nancy" okay but....why 👀bit of an odd reaction imo

-bess with spilling the truth again 😂and gets shot down. tragic #shetried

-wait sooooo nobody tested the fingerprints on the knife when this shit happened?? or that tech didnt exist in 2000? i mean without a body how could they even call it murder? and who told the police?? like if the drews took the baby, the dress, and said nothing, who tells the cops shes missing or even dead? how did they know to search the bluffs? who told the media/public? it had to have happened that same night because ryan said when he got there later there were already rumors she was killed. after the baby and bloody dress, only her crown, a knife, and tire tracks were left. how did anyone find anything at this remote bluff without some kind of tip off? and why on earth would they think murder and not suicide with so little evidence?? thats gotta be like suicide central, sorry for the trigger

-"a little help, lucy?!" lucy seems unable to disobey a direct request from nancy (ie "lucy, stop" from later in the ep) when nancy speaks directly to her. so maybe if nancy had spoken aloud/engaged more lucy could have appeared more? nancy said she only comes around when she wants to but what if nancy herself could do a bit more, being the last thing lucy touched and all

-so in ep 2 when nancys in jail carson says "great grandma rosalind buried her valuables in the trunk" including the knives shown here. did carson and kates families even know about nancy? how did they explain not announcing a pregnancy or birth?

-"oh." john lmfaoooo

-BESS lmaoooo and ace's looks in the background and then at seeing nick approaching lmfaooo oh no / also why on earth is she apologizing?? he dumped her but she has to be sorry he found out she fucked someone else? someone nicer pls explain to me bc i dont get it. she dont owe him shit

-george is SO CUTE lmfaoooo and so forward and he was so shook but then he was like "oh hell yeah"

-"is he a vampire?!" ik nobody i knew got that reference 😂

-this entire search of the claw is a sham. what are they even looking for. clearly a set up by tamura but why/what does he suspect them of. esp w karen as accomplice, story should be airtight so why are they still investigating?

-john + ace dream team 💙

-god ace is such a yes-man. why is he so fucking loyal?? people like him are insane. how are they real. i suspect they arent. and no matter what you do you are never worthy of their unending loyalty anyway.

-so in the Good Place nancy was the one who had the key but in reality its ryan

-wonder if lucy's listening to ryan here talking about his love and grief for her

-"you were throwing away your future on a nothing girl" - nancy & ryan - their fathers dont want them to see "troubled" kids, want them to focus on school instead --> which they both struggle with and eventually do not achieve (maybe bc they want their kids to leave horseshoe bay?) for nancy its an interesting vice for someone whos really a goody two shoes/for ryan its subverted bc karen actually did worse than him ie committed real crimes

-"stay away from my family" surprise bitch bet you thought youd seen the last of me 😉

-interestingly, ryan probably would have agreed with karen about switching the ballot boxes but he wouldnt have really understood the social consequences. both josh and karen are determined to see ryan as the bad guy when actually he didnt do anything, they did. 🤔

-karen is such a ride or die friend. again w the loyalty. if someone swapped ballot boxes for me i'd be touched. im sure going into active labor made lucy a bit upset but damn. what a friend.

-wonder when nancy starts calling her "Lucy" instead of "dead lucy"

-lucy primarily haunting her own house/love seeing this house overtaken by nature

-the concept of writing things down : starting from the first ep, nancy's journal (then and now), writing out simon cards, similar cemetary cards in the Good Place, "beautiful minding it," culminating in lucy's journal / writing it down to help figure it out/when theres too much going on to keep it inside

-"i'll make a salad" NICK LMAOOO

-wonder what happened to carson's old lawyer?

-"my testimony begins in the summer of 1999" because your story always starts with your mother's story

-lmfaoooooo this shit taking the stand is soooo never allowed but oh well

-"she stole a knife" and carson's face lmfaooooo he knows its not true but what could he fucking say?? no?

-"i love you mom, i hope you never find this." ironic bc nancy didnt want her dad to find her journal either

-lucy never wanted anyone to find out how she died d/t shame- but she didnt want carson to go to jail for it so she finally allowed it (or just couldnt refuse nancy asking)

-"i'm sorry for what you lost"/"i'm never gonna be free from them"

-awww ace/mcginnis goodbye / i wonder if ace is nervous thinking about tamura --> ace's dad since chief mcginnis covered for ace out of respect for his dads sacrifice but tamura would throw both ace and his dad under the bus just to get at nancy (get at her via ace? since he was already used as the blackmail plot device? they kinda touched in this in s2 but not fully)

-okay sooo why are they still doing this forensic analysis thing? like the whole things over so whats the point. i wonder if john had packed up and gone home what coulda happened

-nancy/carson - interrupted moments:

•family dinner interrupted by nancy's accsations

•being home after finding ted interrupted by carson's arrest

•celebration of dropped charges interrupted by nancy discovering the truth about her parentage

-"i cooked your favorite to celebrate" ironic bc shes upset that hes not her "real" dad but he IS because he knows her best. like theyre literally proving it right in front of her. vs ryan whom she doesnt really want anyway AND rejects requests to get to know her. like come on sis. his 20 years of parenting you arent going away, ever. deal w it.

-carson's little smile before he said "'mom never hurt lucy" like he knows this is the end / scott's acting here just kills me

~~~~~~~~~

-why did the drews come back at all? and why did kate really keep the dress? carson says she did it as a link to lucy, but did kate want to keep it to be connected to lucy? or did she bury it to keep lucy repressed? is this a positive or a negative? +keeping in attic - did lucy start to haunt kate, so she unburied the dress?

and lastly:

-why doesnt lucy haunt everett and celia hudson? she kind of does ie painting but only when nancy visits bc shes actually haunting nancy. isnt everything the hudsons' fault?

[timelord-winchester-22b]

According to You

This is just... Something I made up despite the fact that I actually have requests. Yes it's based on the song

Thirteen x companion reader, Dhawan!Master x reader

Warnings: multiple mentions of a gun but it's a toy one so..., Kidnapping sorta

The Doctor burst through the Tardis doors first, storming up to the console with the Fam following almost hesitantly behind. You came last, closing the doors softly and sticking to the walls as you moved into the room, going to sit on the hexagonal steps while the Doctor polited you away. She moved around the console with none of her usual excitement and energy, silently fuming. She’d been getting in her moods like this more and more often since the time youd all met the Master. But this time, her irritation was entirely with you, and you weren’t looking forward to the moment she settled the Tardis somewhere safe for the night and turned her attention back to you.

The rest of the Fam were scattered nearby, all trying to keep their distance from the angry Time Lord, all giving you slightly pitying looks. You all knew what was coming. When the Doctor stopped flicking switches and pushing buttons, she stood still for a minute, palms pressed to the surface of the console. She let out a long breath, and when she spoke, you almost asked her to repeat herself, nearly unable to believe she’d actually say it, even if you knew it was true.

“You could have gotten us all killed”

The room was silent. No one deigned to respond. The Doctor turned around to finally face you and learned back against the console, crossing her arms.

“That kind of slip up is exactly the type of thing that could get everyone in this room killed. It can’t happen again, do you understand?” The Doctor continued, like she was scolding a child. Your guilt persisted, but at her tone you began to feel irritation bubble up as well.

“It’s not like I did anything on purpose, I can’t control when my phone is going to ring” You shot back, crossing your arms in return.

“We were in the middle of one of the most dangerous army bases this side of the galaxy and I told you all not to make a sound and your phone is in your pocket on full volume!” The Doctor went on.

“Easy on her Doc, it’s not like she meant it to happen” Graham spoke up lightly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“It’s not like I’m the only one who had a phone in my pocket today” You tried to argue. “It could have been anyone else”

“Actually I turned my phone off just before we went inside” Yaz said, giving you a small shrug when you shot her a look.

“Mine’s always on silent” Ryan added. You couldn’t help but look to Graham, who gave you a sorry look in return.

“I forogt mine on the Tardis this morning” He told you.

You looked back to the Doctor, who was giving you a stern ‘I told you so’ kind of look, and huffed. Instead of digging yourself in deeper you stood and turned to leave the room and everyone’s stupid staring eyes behind. Your phone chimed just as you were stepping into the hall and you sighed.

“Put your phone on silent!” The Doctor called after you.

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

You were rather hoping that the Fam would have forgotten the incident with your phone by the next morning, but that didn’t seem to be the case. They weren’t trying to treat you differently, but you’d all see a little of the Doctor’s temper in recent days, and everyone was all too aware that she was still annoyed with you. They were just trying to keep on her good side as much as possible. Seemed like they were planning to try for a less stressful day today. Something that obviously wasn’t going to happen when you all walked into the console room to receive what was equivalent to ‘hey, remember how I said I was still trying to track down the Master, well…’ Which is what found you in an Amazon distribution center, of all things, trying to track down a Time Lord.

The Doctor had apparently thought it best for you to spread out a little, something you didn’t want to argue with, even if it did sound like a good way to be the first to get killed in a horror movie. Even in light of recent events, being without the Doctor nearby made you feel vulnerable. You and Ryan had decided to remain close to one another, so you could call out and have the other there in moments if things went south. It was his idea to pick up the first toy gun he came across. You rolled your eyes. The foam bullets wouldn’t do anything to a Time Lord, and the plastic weapon itself was far too bright and colorful to be able to bluff with. Nevertheless, when he convinced you to pick up the small plastic gun, you did feel a little more secure with something to hold on to.

The place had been very recently evacuated, and you were unsure which Time Lord was the culprit, but it made the whole situation a little more unnerving. Sure it was much easier to navigate while holding a bright pink plastic handgun, but it gave everything an eerie feel. Workstations were still set up and tea still steaming in the break room. You were considering if anyone would miss that nice looking apple in the fruit bowl when you heard something clatter behind you. You threw up the toy gun out of instinct as you turned, coming face to face with exactly the man you were looking for.

You opened your mouth to call out, probably to Ryan, when you stopped. The Master shot you a look, but at the sound of footsteps quickly darted out another door. You turned from that door tp the one you had both entered through to find the Doctor, skidding into the room. She scowled at you for a moment, giving a pointed look to the plastic gun in your hand before moving to check the other door. When Ryan came through the door after her, he wasn’t holding the toy gun he had been earlier. You gave him a look of annoyance and he shrugged sheepishly, mouthing a ‘sorry’.

“You can pick up a toy gun to carry about but you can’t even call out when you see the person we’re looking for?” The Doctor snipped at you as she was leaving the room. The rest of the Fam followed and you sighed heavily. Perhaps you should have stayed on the Tardis, you thought to yourself. Taken a day off to explore the library or take another trip to the trampoline room. You could have stayed in to bake or have a swim in the pool. But no, instead, you were walking around an empty warehouse with a plastic children’s toy in hand and being snapped at by a tempermental Time Lord, And now someone was wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you against them, just great.

You glanced over your shoulder to find the Master’s face mere inches from your own. You really were having a great day, weren’t you?

“Drop the gun and call for the Doctor” The Master ordered into your ear.

“What?” You frowned.

“Just do it”

You thought for a moment, looking at him. He looked back at you, and although he considered himself very good at reading primitive human behaviour, he found himself wondering what you might do. It was quiet. Then a clatter, a panicked cry that drew the Doctor right back down the hall. It only took her moments to burst back into the room, but all she found was a bright pink plastic handgun on the ground.

So... Anyone up for a part 2?

Edit:

Part 2: According to Him

Part 3: Too Bad You're Making Me Decide