#surely they've learnt something

[koi-no-signal-zin-zin-zin]

I think the next love live gen should have a black girl. I'm aware it'd be a shitshow in a lot of ways if it happens at all but I still want it

[urfriendlywriter]

What is emotional vulnerability? And can how can your characters show it?

(these are from my POV of what I have learnt and researched. differences in opinion are appreciated because no definition and depiction is set in stone | Credits must be given when reposted elsewhere / @urfriendlywriter ! I hope this helps all of you :D)

Tackling this with three topics:

What's vulnerability?

Actions related to vulnerability. (Actions/words that depict a person is feeling vulnerable + some dialogue prompts)

How to build trust between two people?

Vulnerability:

Emotional vulnerability is the ability to be open to and express one's feelings, even when facing the risk of rejection, criticism, or shame. Vulnerability means acknowledging your difficult emotions. Accepting overwhelming feelings, being able to express them with tender care towards yourself and others.

I'd consider myself a very openly communicative person. If I love you--as a friend, family or something else, I'll make sure you know the depth of it, the meaning behind my words, my look and my touch. I encourage vulnerability in all my relationships and it has positively reflected in their own personal growth as well. Being open, being real, being you, with all the ache, the scars, the hurt, and even the small ball of light within yourself amidst is all---that's vulnerability. And as we,

We gen z, we shelter ourselves to protect ourselves from hurt. But... if we get hurt, is it really our fault? No. If somebody hurts you intentionally, it doesn't translate to what you deserve or must go through. But if I don't get hurt... how will I learn to cope with it? Express it? Communicate through it? Learn from it? And.. importantly, how will I..

Learn how to heal myself again. Learn how to love myself far better. Learn how I want to be and what relationships I want to attract?

So, me, personally, I put myself out there. Like an open book. To read, to feel, to see--including the hurt and the parts I'm working on. Of course, i don't fully lodge it down a person's throat in one go, but u get what i mean. It is slow building of trust and can be used to your advantage as well. (lol that sounds toxic)

Harsh Truths?

Some people will use it against you, but should it hurt you if u were real to yourself? No.

Not all people u open up to may be emotionally mature. And that's okay. Move on.

It is not the end of the world if someone who saw all parts of you turned against you. It simply wasn't your person. It was neither of your faults.

Paint a character afraid to be vulnerable:

Hesitancy to open up, to speak up for themselves.

Blinking back tears, and telling themselves they'd be okay regardless.

"Atleast I don't have it worse."

"And.. If.. I tell you.. You won't look at me differently? Like.. I'm--I'm not worthy?"

doesn't ask for help. doesn't accept help easily.

doesn't think they're worthy to be seen. or to be loved. to be accepted or to even be heard.

"what i say won't make much of a difference anyway" A & "No, i want to hear it. how little, silly, stupid, serious, deep, it may be. I want to hear it. Please."

being numb to pain that they think it's normal to internalize it all.

and one day it erupts all out. into tears and rage. or raw unfiltered pain that bleeds onto everyone who loves them, hurting them too.

they freeze, momentarily surprised when they're asked for their honest opinion

or when they've to blink back tears when someone notices something and helps them without them even asking

detached during intimacy or hyperventilating after or during it

pulling away and pushing the other person away when they truly need them the most

Paint a character confident in themselves and are openly communicative:

you will not second guess what they feel about u, because u can see it in their faces or they'll openly say it

they encourage honest and deep conversations

the look of love is always there in their gaze

they love openly. they have so much love to give.

they'll hear u out no matter the time of the day and will provide a safe space for u

"I'm always here for u" in a soft, quiet voice, a gentle smile and a warm hug

"It's okay to feel that way. Hell u should feel that way. If u wanna talk about it.. here I am."

they're their own safe spaces and they can dive into their emotions, whenever and wherever needed.

they won't let u feel alone in ur misery. they'll shoulder the burden with u, but won't internalize it as their own. (i fear this is very important)

always knows the cause of why they said what they said / how they behaved or reacted

can analyze even u with one glance.

"how are you?" As a gentle caress of words & "I've-I've.. never been asked that.. not with such sincerity.." shyness of the one opening up.

^ "So, here I am.. I've got all the time of the day. Care to tell me?"

They aren't afraid of rejection. But they'll not put up with bullshit.

Building trust between two people:

Building trust is intimate. If done right. Between friends, family, lovers or anyone it may be. It's delicate, it's comforting quietness at some times and hearty loudness at some other. It's being understood, being seen, being able to communicate freely and respectfully.

Vulnerability is present where trust is.

asking help for small things without shying away from it

physical closeness. after moments of honesty or heavy emotions.

prioritizing each other

admiring every little thing they do

lots of "thank you"s being said that shows appreciation loud and clear

nervous glances, shaky hands and fluttering heartbeats as they may be help u zip up ur dress.

forehead kisses, followed up with, "I see you.. Let me help u cleanse away the day's stress."

celebrating even the smallest of their success

asking consent in every small thing!!

^ "i-i why are u asking for that? yes, of course." A & "Love.. I should always ask, even for such a thing as that." B

Being slow but steady with each other

"U don't want to do that? no rush." Immediately backing off A with a smile & B trying to understand how they aren't mad yet "A-are u sure?"

^ "We're in no rush.. We'll go at you pace. But consider my emotions too down the line, hmm?"

Lots of "And how does that make you feel?"

arguments feel less like the ones they saw growing up. and now it's more intimate, thoughtful, full of understanding and closeness. both sides are heard, understood, appreciated and both sides change.

Author's (@urfriendlywriter aka Ziya) note:

As someone who had to learn myself, I'm hoping such a love finds me and all of us too! I've read gentle love in a lot of books. Gentle, patient, communicative, uplifting but I'm yet to find a book that's full of these. So if u have any recommendations, let me know.

Thank u for reading so far! I hope this helps u write amazing, emotionally available characters.

[fairytaleendingss]

Could I request another platonic relationship where the reader finally falls asleep on one of the Thunderbolts after not being able to fall asleep for several days, and then Bob or John decide to carry them to their bed?

Your writing is so beautiful, and I have several more ideas, if that’s okay to send them in?

Sweet Dreams

Summary: Sometimes you all needed someone you could lean on. For you, that term may even be needed in a more literal sense.

Pairing: (Platonic) Thunderbolts* x gn!Reader, kind of John Walker x reader (written as platonic but can be viewed as romatic if you want it to be).

CW: Mentions of trauma, alcoholism, nightmares, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descritptions of poor mental health.

Thanks so much lovely! Feel free to send as many requests as you like. I'm buried deep in the hyperfixation rn so the more Thunderbolts requests the better!

This one ended up getting deep really quickly but I loved getting a chance to touch on everyone's coping mechanisms. I think thefact that they've all been through so much is what makes these characters so unique and fascinating. It's something I find really interesting to explore in my writing and I hope I was able to do it justice. Let me know your thoughts.

--

Sleep didn't come easily to you these days. In fact, it hadn't for a very long time. It was no secret that your past wasn't a particularly pleasant one, and much like the rest of your teammates, there were some lasting aftereffects.

It was something the group had become rather good at over time as you all began to warm up to each other. It had become routine for the rest of you to notice when one of you were having a bad day or night or week. You'd all learnt to notice the signs.

You could tell when Yelena was drinking again. You noticed the way she'd reach for wine at dinner when the rest of you were drinking water or when the vodka bottles in the liquor cabinet had grown diluted.

You could sense when Ava was self-isolating. Those times when she'd retreat for hours or sometimes days on end, into the dark quiet of her room and you wouldn't hear from her until she pulled herself out again.

You'd learnt to understand the patterns of Bob's moods. You recognised the highs when they came and prepared for the inevitable lows that followed.

You knew when Bucky was having nightmares. You could see it in the purple stains that formed beneath his eyes and the way his hands would shake as he made his morning coffee. You could see it, even when he insisted he was fine because as much as you're able to heal from it, that kind of trauma never fully goes away.

You could tell when John's mind began to wander away from him. When the pent up guilt and self-loathing bubbled to the surface. You understood when he'd get irritable and snap at his teammates because you knew he didn't mean it and all that bottled-up anger had to be directed somewhere.

Even Alexi had bad days. Sometimes you'd find him at night, in the kitchen or the living room sitting and staring at the wall, eyes blank as his brain rolled over all the regrets he nursed in the darkest corners of his mind.

Everyone had tells. Their own unique signs and symptoms that emerged whenever the darkness from their past had grown too much to bare and spilled out of them like an overfilled bottle.

The only upside was, that in recognising everyone's habits and behaviours, you'd also found your own ways to help. Slowly but surely you'd all begun to learn what worked (and what didn't) when it came to supporting your friends through their ups and downs. And soon enough it had become habitiual, almost second nature, to understand when your teammates were hurting and what you could do to help.

In fact, it was something that seemed to bring you all closer together. The knowing deep down, that you could fully trust each other to accept and understand you, even on your worst days. The realisation that just maybe, you didn't have to go through these things alone.

So it wasn't particularly surprising when your teammates had noticed a change in your behaviour over the last couple of weeks. They could tell just by your slow reflexes and heavy movements that you were having trouble sleeping.

Usually you were brighter. More vibrant and full of energy. A warm glow seemed to radiate from you wherever you went, one that made anyone around you feel safe and comfortable. However, recently, it seemed to have faded.

It wasn't a rare occurance in your life. Every once in a while you'd find yourself stuck in a loop, plagued never-ending with flashbacks from your past at night as you were trying to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd be bombarded with memories of all the trauma you'd experienced, all the people you killed. It washed over you like a wave crashing onto a rocky cliff face.

Bucky was the first to notice. He was just observant like that. He'd begun to grow concerned after you dropped one too many items in the kitchen one morning while preparing breakfast. He'd tried to talk to you about it later that day. He'd asked how you were and you told him you were fine. He knew you were lying but he also knew that he shouldn't push you if you weren't ready to talk. Instead, he kept a close eye on you. He lingered just outside the noticable radius, helping you out in whatever ways he could. Moving a chair out of your path before you could walk into it or picking up various items for you and putting them away when you'd left them somewhere strange.

It wasn't long before, the others began to pick up on it too, the way you didn't seem fully present. Ava noticed you spacing out more often in conversations and Yelena didn't like how clumsy and careless you'd grown in your training sessions together. Alexi noticed how you'd stopped laughing the way you usually would at his ridiculous jokes and Bob could feel the way you were pulling back from group activities.

Everyone did their best to accomodate you, supporting you in the ways they know you needed. A cup of coffee left out for you when you came into the kitchen, your favourite takeaway ordered for dinner on a Friday night. Your laundry folded in a neat pile at the end of your bed when you were sure you'd forgotten to take it out of the machine (most likely curtesy of Bob).

However, despite your appreciation towards your friends efforts, the darkness still loomed, cold and quiet but unbearbly obtrusive.

--

It was three in the morning when you found yourself tucked away on the compound's couch, scrolling absently on tiktok as some episode of 'Parks and Recreation' played in the background on low volume. You weren't really watching, you just needed something to fill the silence.

The thoughts were loud that night. They protested every time sleep began to draw near. You were left wide-eyed and shakey as you watched scenes play behind your eyelids, of all the people you'd hurt, all the things you'd done wrong. They haunted you like dark figures in the corners of your mind, like your brain was screening some twisted, traumatic movie, made just to gnaw away at you.

All of a sudden your room was too small, too dark, too quiet. You'd decided the living area seemed a better fit. It wasn't like you were going to get any sleep anyway.

You looked up when you recognised the sound of footsteps padding down the hall towards you. You could tell they were John's before he even stepped into the room. He always moved with such urgency, like he had some place to be.

He moved into the doorway, rubbing his eyes tiredly before they landed on you. He send you a meek smile, awkward but laced with sincerity.

"Hey. What are you doing still up?"

You shrugged. "I could ask you the same question."

He nodded, stifling a yawn as he further entered the space. His blonde hair was tustled from sleep and his eyes half-lidded as they adjusted to the low light of the room. He seemed tentative and unguarded. Less threatening than you'd ever seen him in a pair of oversized, blue-plaid pyjamas. It was almost funny to think that this was the same deadly supersoldier that could send you flying with a single punch.

"Oh Parks and Rec," he muttered absently, gesturing to the flickering TV screen. "Great show."

He flopped down on the couch beside you, sinking into it's cushions like they were the softest in the world.

"I can turn it up if you like," you offered reaching for the remote.

"No, that's okay. This is fine."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you. You could see the way his lips pursed as if he wanted to say something but couldn't think of the right words.

After a beat, he cleared his throat. "So... nightmares huh?"

"Yeah, kind of," you looked downwars, fiddling with the loose threads of the blanket in your lap. It was something you always found difficult to talk about. All of you had things that kept you up at night, and you didn't feel it was right to drag your friends in with you. So you let it sit, like a wait upon your chest, threatening to keep you down.

John let out a breath through his nose. "I get them a lot too."

You sighed softly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh no, it's fine," he remarked quickly, as if he was trying to patch a wound but was scared of pulling the stitches too tight. "Well, I mean, it's not really fine. It can be really bad sometimes actually... but what I'm trying to say is, I get it."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his rambling. After all, John Walker was definitly not known for his eloquence but you appreciated the effort all the same.

"Thanks," you respoded softly. "Although, I’d prefer if you didn't."

He seemed to go quiet at that, like he wasn't sure what the next move was. He scratched at his beard as he blinked a few times towards the TV screen.

"I guess, with everything we've been through, it's pretty normal to have feelings left behind. It's good, in a way, I think. It means we're still human."

He smiled sadly in your direction, his eyes swimming with a kind of emotion that could only be felt by someone who'd experienced everything he had.

"Maybe you're right," you sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could be numb instead."

He nodded once, but it looked as though the gears in his brain were still turning.

"Look," he stated gently, turning in to meet your gaze. "I just want to say that if you wanted to talk about it, you can. Even if you don't... sometimes it's just nice to know someone is there."

You couldn't place what it was exactly. If it was the gentleness of his voice or the genuine concern that seemed to swim in the blues of his eyes but something about what he said, hit home. It was as if just his presence beside you had managed to take some of the load from your shoulders and make you feel ever so slightly lighter. Like that weight that you constantly felt sitting on your chest, didn't have to weigh you down so much, as long as you were willing to let someone help you lift it.

"Thank you, Walker. Really. That means a lot."

With a small smile, you scooted closer to him on the couch, adjusting your blanket so that it was splayed over both your laps. John welcomed the affection, lifting an arm to throw comfortably over your shoulders. And for the first time in a while, you let yourself feel safe.

Your eyes drifted back towards the TV screen as the two of you watched the show in silence, feeling the rise of John's chest beside you ever now and then as he chuckled at something Andy Dwyer said.

Before you knew it, your eyes had drifted shut.

--

When the rest of the team made their way to the living room the next morning, they were surprised to say the least, at the sight of you, curled up against John's side, soundly asleep. Your hair was a mess and a small patch of drool had formed in the fabric of the man's pyjamas but he didn't seemed to mind. He knew this was the longest you'd slept in a while.

He was awake and reading something on his phone by the time the team congregated.

"What has happened here?" Alexi's voice boomed as his eyes landed on the sight before him.

Yelena was quick to shush him, knowing how tired you must have been to fall asleep on John of all people. Although upon closer inspection, you seemed pretty content with your choice of human pillow.

"Is she okay?" Ava inquired softly.

John nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Just tired mostly."

"Do you want me to take her to bed?" Bucky offered, looking between the two of you with a mix of concern and confusion.

"Nah, thats okay. I don't want to wake her up yet."

Yelena and Ava shared a look. John sighed before they even had chance to speak, knowing what was coming.

"Aww, how adorable!" Yelena teased.

Ava gave him a dramatically sappy look. "Looks like John Walker does have a heart after all."

John just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Laugh it up."

"Okay, that's enough hovering, guys. Lets just leave them be," Bucky reasoned once he'd decided nothing was too far out of the ordinary, ushering the group away.

"Wait, stay still a second," Bob muttered as the rest of the team went back to doing their normal morning activities.

Before John could even process what as going on, he heard the shuttering sound of a camera.

"Oh, come on Bob, seriously?"

Bob just shrugged as he lowered his phone, giving John an awkward smile.

"Sorry, but it is really cute."

John just shook his head as Bob walked away, then took a moment to look down at where you were tucked tightly into his side. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips. As much as he hated to say it, he liked being the person someone could lean on sometimes. He lifted a gentle hand to stroke your hair.

Even he had to admit, you did look pretty cute.

--

You woke up near midday, tucked safely away in your bed. You didn't know who'd brought you there but there was a fresh glass of water set on your nightstand with a sticky note resting beside it.

You picked it up, trying your best to make out the messy scrawl in the darkness of your blackout curtains.

"Drink this. Then come downstairs whenever your ready. We're all here if you need to talk, or if you don't."

Your lips twitched ever so slightly upwards. Then you sat up, drank your water and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to feel more like yourself again.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

[existence-is-a-pain87]

Sorry yall, I hate literally everything I write and I have several drafts I need to finish, but I'm just going to try and put this out.

Edit: This took me way longer to make than I expected, damn. Oh well.

Mb team, mb.

Oh also, information about all the self-aware AUs I make for Roblox games: They all take place in the same AU.

Yeah, all the Roblox games in this AU are self-aware and yandere.

There is no freedom, mwehehe!!

Your Soul Forsaken

Yandere!Self-Aware!Forsaken x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors

Note: Yes I'll take requests for this and yes I'll write more Dandy's World stuff. There's no need to ask me over and over again. (No offense I'm just silly)

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Even with the voice chat and players being able to talk to eachother through there, they still didn't hear what the players said.

It was muffled, quiet. Like they were underwater.

But you? Even when you didn't have voice chat on?

They heard you.

They heard you clear as day.

It was strange. Especially with how you just... kept talking.

As if you knew they could hear you.

But you didn't think they could, that much was clear. It didn't stop you though.

It also didn't stop them from acting as if you knew they were sentient.

--☆☆☆--

They heard you the moment you started playing Forsaken.

All of them had differing opinions on you. Most were skeptical of you, though all were interested in you.

Especially with the things you did.

When you started playing, you were already instantly surprisingly good at the game despite having no idea what any of Noob's abilities were. You were just really good at... well... the survivor gameplay.

Excluding stamina management. You weren't the best at that, especially when you were being chased.

Sure, you died sometimes, but usually because you were dealing with more experienced people. Or you just got jumped and couldn't run in time.

However, you sucked playing as a killer, and thus rarely played as a killer.

Luckily for you, most of the killers didn't care much at first. Most didn't care much at first. They didn't think much of you.

But a few of them certainly did.

Especially a certain cultist...

To Two Time, you were a sign from the Spawn himself. A player, someone who can toy with their world and puppeteer a fake body or other's bodies, from an entirely other world and able to toy with their own. Able to make the bodies respawn when killed.

You were the most holy thing they've witnessed. Even if they could not see you, hearing you speak? Witnessing you control others? That feeling they had when you controlled them?

You may as well have been god.

And if you held no hatred to them over the sins they've done, you were forgiving and loving. You spoke of your love for them often, and they adored that.

A beautiful, forgiving god. A loving and devine being. Perfect in every way, with even flaws appearing perfect. Something to be adored and worshiped.

And they shall be your most devout follower.

--☆☆☆--

You were quite the interesting being. Despite not playing too often, you always stood out to them when you played. Because you were both uncertain yet skilled, somehow playing poorly and well at the same time.

And yet you were self-belittling.

It's one of the most interesting things about you. You loved so much, yet despised your every action and every word, constantly terrified to make even a single mistake or feel the slightest negative emotion.

You were a mess. And it humanized you. It make them all slowly warm up to you.

And you gradually becoming a more and more common occurrence certainly helped.

Of course, your appearance remained an enigma. All they had was your voice, the words you said, and what you did in game.

They couldn't learn everything about you, but they learnt enough.

Enough that Two Time was no longer the only one who thought positively of you.

For one, Chance respected the fact that you played games with gambling aspects. Keep gamblin', pal, most quit before they win big! He also enjoyed that he was a character you liked. Didn't understand what "Aventurine-core" meant, but with how amused you sound, it had to be positive. ...right?

Elliot was honestly surprised with how much bias you had to him thanks to Work at a Pizza Place basically being your childhood. It just made him automatically one of your favorite characters, which earned him some jealousy, especially from Two Time. He was able to ignore it, though. After all, you weren't that bad to listen to.

Eventually, all the survivors started to not mind you.

The killers, however, tended to be much slower warming up to you...

Excluding c00lkidd. Mostly because when you did play a killer, which was rare, you played c00lkidd. And because you liked things c00lkidd liked. It made you cool! You're someone who should join Team c00lkidd! Well? Do it!

No, do NOT join Team pr3typriincess or Team bluudud- get away from them-!

It started off just as them respecting you. No where near the level of Two Time's obsession.

...at least, at first...

--☆☆☆--

They used to find great annoyance when others controlled their bodies. Then you came along.

Then they didn't mind being puppeteered like that if it meant they could hear you.

It grew to the point that even the killers stopped minding.

They were just more used to having you around. And started to like having you around...

Of course, they then learned they weren't the only ones who heard you...

And those other ones toyed around with your device. So a collective decision was made not to mess with things like your phone as a whole.

Roblox, however? That was free game.

So what if you got jumpscared playing Dandy's World by c00lkidd showing up out of nowhere? So what if you'd see random survivors when playing Grow a Garden? Or seeing the Forsaken Shedletsky in Block Tales? You just excused it as weird hackers with senses of humor or cosplayers, nothing more.

They relished in your excuses as you tried to justify Roblox games being weird.

The only game they didn't mess around with was Pressure...

...none of the other self-aware games liked to mess with the characters in Pressure. It never went well when they did.

Never.

All the other games you played though? Free game. No one in Forsaken cared if they annoyed the other characters anyways. It was a chance to see more of you, and they'd gladly take it.

They even viewed themselves as higher than the others for respecting your privacy more. Not toying with your device.

Which surely meant you would respect them more when they revealed themselves as sentient, yes?

Of course, that would be what happened! It had to be! They knew you! They swore they did!

Until a certain fish beat them to it...

--☆☆☆--

They began to force other players out just so it'd be them and you. Other players would be kicked mid-round over time until it was only you back in the lobby.

Then you'd interact with Elliot and be confused at his different dialogue. And how other NPC versions of the playable survivors would be there and would interact with you.

Then they got access to the chat. And god, would they talk to you in there. Even the Killers would.

It was absolute chaos in there. And the number of hashtags made Roblox... heavily concerned, to put it lightly. Mostly due to 1x. And when some of them got freaky about you.

You didn't talk in the chat much, but sometimes you'd risk it all and talk to what you thought were weird hackers who liked role-playing as the characters.

...ignored how the games always said you were alone, and whenever someone else dared to join, they'd be kicked out the instant someone noticed. Not even your real life friends were safe when they tried to play with you.

Though, sometimes they'd be nice enough to let you friends play with you when you asked nicely. Even if it took some pleading.

Was it wrong that so many of them liked seeing you beg?

They weren't happy when you started to play Forsaken less, even if they tried to make playing rounds with you as normal as possible. They behaved like real players and stuff, and even would amuse you when you wanted certain matchups at the end of rounds to happen.

It was just something about the "hackers" that weirded you out.

It frustrated them, but most of them still kept the decency not to breach your privacy or were convinced not to do it, all for wanting your favor.

So when you pieced together, all your Roblox games were sentient, Forsaken became your safe haven as you realized they were the only ones who didn't fuck around with your phone excluding like... four of them.

They were pleased with this. Very pleased.

...

Though they really weren't when you tried to uninstall Roblox.

--☆☆☆--

...

...

...

Even if they didn't like the other games who adored you, they agreed to come together for the plan.

Entering into your world would be too chaotic, but god forbid they force you into the same torture of dealing with other players everyday.

So they came up with something else.

You're mortal. Someday you'll die. But with this plan, you'll be as immortal as them.

And god forbid they lose you.

They've already heard you be hurt before. They already knew you've been in pain before.

And they hated it.

So what if you would despise what everyone planned? So what if you'd be angry and probably lash out? It'd be worth it.

Because your soul is as good as forsaken if they can't have you.

[seiwas]

papa bakugo and the thought that he intently raises his kids in ways to be unlike him.

and when they're older, asking serious questions about parenting like: why did you make sure we were friends with everyone on the playground? why did you always have to step away when you were mad? how come you don't like us seeing videos of you when you were younger?

he tells them it's because he never wanted them to turn out like him—that leading by example has always been more effective, and he wasn't exactly the best example back then. still doesn't feel like he is now but he's trying (at least, that's what you say, and it must count for something).

and his kids are confused because what does he mean he isn't the best example? all they want is to be like him.

they want the same fire, the dedication he puts in day in and day out; how he only ever gives his best and never backs down. one of the greatest lessons they've learnt from their papa is that a promise is a promise and you deliver on it. no matter what.

they want the same balance he's achieved, making time for both work and his family but especially his family—how they've never once felt second in his life; how he's managed to show up to every game, every performance like the superdad he is. and even when he doesn't make it for the entire thing, you can bet he's rushing in, all soot-covered and polo unbuttoned with the base of his suit underneath.

(you never told your kids, but on katsuki's 14th father's day, you held him while he cried, tears of relief from his eyes. he was watching their surprise, a day-in-the-life reenactment video of pro-dad bakugo katsuki, starring the kids and you).

they want to love the way he loves them, the way he loves you—attentive and all-in because bakugo katsuki never half-asses anything. he adds personal touches to each plate of breakfast he cooks: bear pancakes for his little girl, egg done scrambled and another sunny-side up for his two boys. and you always insist on having what he's having because you don't want to add to the hassle, but he knows your signature morning drink and serves it right by the plate beside his, always yours.

you always tell him that having your kids turn out like him now is all you could ever want, and he always scoffs, tuts and laughs like it can't possibly be true. but maybe if your kids tell him now, that they want to be just like their papa, he'll believe it—all the good in him that everyone sees but he can't seem to.

you hope he doesn't see it as a bad thing—that his kids have grown and chosen to in the shape of him.

[redandgreyscale]

Asexual Evan who sexualizes himself, and Barty is the one to let him know that it's okay and he doesn't have to force himself

angst always gets me, ask and I shall deliver✨

They've been dating for a month.

In this month, Barty learns a lot of things about Evan. Barty learns Evan likes to tease, learns the way his body moves when he's flirting, the tone on his voice, every single tone of his voice actually. Learns his nervous tics and the way he snorts if he laughs too hard. Barty feels unable to do anything other than look at Evan at all times.

He also learns Evan likes to kiss. He likes to kiss a lot, passionately, all tongue and bites and hands tugging eagerly at hair. Barty loves Evan's hands on his hair. Loves Evan's lips on his. Fuck, Barty feels like he could eat Evan whole with how much he loves him. Devour him until there's nothing left.

They haven't gone anywhere further than kissing though, and fuck if he isn't dying to get Evan naked on his bed. So he tries.

It is a good night, they had easy classes, a good studying session, and are currently making out in Barty's bed. Things get weird the moment he takes Evan's shirt after his own. He knows Evan, has learnt every single thing about him, and something is off. The eagerness on his kisses is different, less passionate even if as intense. He isn't actively seeking contact anymore, just taking it. His gasps sound false suddenly, so Barty reels back and looks at him.

Evan looks as perfect as always, like a fucking angel fallen from heaven right into his bed. His breathing hard and his bare chest sweaty.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks confused, and Barty only looks at him for a bit.

"Is everything okay? Do you want to keep going?" He asks back, because one can never be too sure, and he's not about to fuck up their first time. They're laying side by side looking at each other, still in a tangle of limbs. Evan's brows shoot up in disbelief.

"What do you think?" He asks with a smile, a hand tangling in Barty's hair. It doesn't look like his smiles. This is— no, something's definitely wrong. It feels like an ick he can't quite scratch.

"I don't know, that's why I asked" he stops Evan from pulling him closer. Keeps looking at him, trying to find what is going on. Then, Evan's jaw clicks, and Barty knows immediately. He knows because he's spent their last month, fuck, their last years, learning every single movement on Evan's body. He's not answering, so Barty talks again "you don't want it" he tries to reel back, and is fastly drawn back closer.

"No, I— I can do it, I can do this for you" Evan's behaviour changes so suddenly it feels like whiplash. He sounds almost desperate "I can be good for you come on, take me, take what you want" Evan's mouth is on his, then on his neck, and for a second he gets distracted again because fuck that feels good, but soon enough he pushes him back again.

"No, hey, Ev" Barty tries. Evan is a mess of mumbles.

"I'll be good, I can do it" he repeats grabbing at Barty through wet eyes. Oh. Oh hell no.

"Evan" he tries, and Evan only becomes more eager, climbing on top of him, unbuttoning his jeans "Evan stop" his hands come to grab his. Then Evan looks at him, really looks at him. "I don't want this if you don't"

"I thought I—"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to" Barty assures, and finally the tears come. He lets go of Evan's hands and watches as he tries to hide his face away, still sitting on top of him.

It takes a while to calm down, and by the time it happens they're both sitting cross legged each on one end of the bed, facing the other.

"I don't... I don't like sex" Evan says when asked.

"Okay" Barty simply says "then we won't do that" Evan looks up, brows furrowed, pained look on his eyes.

"Barty, I won't like it, never have wanted it and I don't think I ever will"

"It's fine, then we'll never have sex" he shrugs. It's okay, he only wants Evan if he wants it too. "But, uhm, you've had other partners, right? Did you..?"

"Yeah, and I hated every part of it" Evan admits looking away. Barty feels the need to kill every single one of his ex's.

"You don't have to do that with me, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to" Evan looks even more confused than before "We don't have to kiss if you don't like it either"

"No, I— Uhm... I like that" his cheeks are turning red, his smile coming back, and this time Barty believes him. "I like it a lot, actually"

"Great because I like that too. A lot." Barty smiles back.

And maybe there is a lot to talk about, a lot of lines to mark down so they aren't crossed, but for now they lay in bed and kiss.

A lot.

[inafever]

On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:

This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.

So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.

A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)

But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.

In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again

But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.

Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.

I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:

"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"

"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"

"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"

And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together

He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves

In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven

"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."

He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work

We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"

Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.

But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time

I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.

update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)

And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.

[peaxhxhair]

Raising Kids with them - Overwatch Heroes

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

Odessa Stone (Junker Queen)

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

It does - but she refuses to admit it.

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

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

Even before they've learnt to walk.

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

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

It was quite a funny sight.

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

Probably swears around your kid.

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

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

The kids adore her though.

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mako Rutledge (Roadhog)

I think Mako would be really good with kids-

Big brooding dad & cute tiny daughter combo type vibe

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

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

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

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

His hands are just so big.

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

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

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

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

Moira O'Deorain 

Does not want kids.

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

test-tube baby fr

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

Does she know anything about kids? No.

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

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

HATES being called mom.

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

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

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

~~~

Your babies first word was definitely her name.

but in the cute baby way.

'Moiwa'

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

"This is what happens when you smoke"

Your kid will never even THINK about smoking ever again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why is miss Amelie blue?"

"She didn't eat her vegetables"

Angela Ziegler (Mercy)

BIG on consistent check-ups.

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

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

Definitely enjoys shopping for baby clothes.

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

Aeroplane noises while getting the baby to eat.

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

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

Secret stash of sweets hidden somewhere in your car.

One in Overwatch HQ too.

ALWAYS prepared.

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

Always has wipes and diapers.

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

Matching onesies with your kid.

Chilli and Bingo core :)

Angela would LOVE doing Halloween costumes for your kiddo.

They're always so CUTE.

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

Cole Cassidy

Baby carrier dad.

Like he'll just carry your baby everywhere.

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

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

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

It's just so cute seeing them play together.

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

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

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

~~~

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

Too right.

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

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

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

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

It makes Cole chuckle every time.

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

~~~

Definitely the dad that all of your kids friends like

"Your dad is so cool!"

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

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

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: if you have stuck around and waited u are INCREDIBLE thank u so much for ur patience <3 esp cos i'm still testing it with my slowburn lmao + tell me what u think lovelies and as always, enjoy

word count: 4.1k

synopsis: Azriel's shadows find a new way to torment their master. The question of forgiveness follows you. Cassian gets you in the ring, testing out newly learnt skills.

CHAPTER TEN :: SHADOWS

Azriel is a spy by his very nature.

It makes sense; the gift of Shadowsinger is never bestowed so lightly so that it could ever leave any doubt of the user. Shadowsingers are spies, even well before their gifts revealed themselves. Always watching. Always listening.

It was, then, a tad against his disposition to keep his nose out business that wasn't his — as that was precisely what Azriel did best.

But his decision was resolute. Azriel had promised himself he would not be the first to break the distance between you two.

However, for a fae over five-hundred years old, it's quite unsettling to yet again feel the pangs of impatience. Years of practicing restraint and then, in a mere few months, his hard earned patent for patience begins to fray at the ends. You'll be his undoing, he's sure of it.

Like a young and fresh-faced warrior itching for battle, it's almost embarrassing how Azriel can't seem to stay away from you. His feet wander and all paths lead to you.

His shadows are not helping.

Azriel thinks they've managed to get more insistent, which he hadn't really believe was possible. They've proven him oh-so wrong. When he walks the halls of the House of Wind, the dark wisps dart out, as though trying to tug him along.

He had trusted them all of two times before, face flushed and with an ungraceful but thankfully unnoticed exit, he learned just where they were leading him.

They were following the invisible thread between you, taking him to see his mate.

When it became clear he wasn't going to be coerced along, his shadows had only got more devious.

It's a particular brand of torture, Azriel thinks, to be delivered little parcels of knowledge of the person he's not allowing himself to see.

And they're ruthless about it. Whispers about how you're healing and the growing steadiness of your feet, the way you stand a little taller each day, about the tentative trust extended to Cassian.

Gods, that one had made his hand jerk across the paper in surprise, spilling a patch of ink onto the report he was in the middle of.

You were talking to Cassian— no, you were nearly friends with Cassian. The magnanimous hope had ballooned within him before Azriel remembered to stomp it back down.

Mor had teased him for the black stains on his hands during dinner.

He studies them now, nearly washed away completely, before he lifts his head. In the cool air of dusk, Azriel surveils the training ring from the shadows of the door, eyes scanning across the balcony.

It's empty, as expected. The rising moon is his only company.

You've stuck to training in the mornings, of course.

He's relieved and disappointed all at once—then Azriel forces that disappointment out of his system with a frustrated huff.

He is not allowed to be disappointed. Your trust is something he still needs to claw his way back to, to earn, and that required waiting and accepting that.

Azriel would see you... when you wanted to see him.

Despite his resolve, the thread between you still gives a futile tug before he can stop it. Scowling at himself, he rubs at his chest meanly, banishing the feeling. He steps down onto the balcony and heads towards the equipment.

As his scarred hands reach out and pluck one of the training staffs off the rack, his shadows twirls and trill, an almost teasing motion. It takes one pointed whisper, one tug on his heartstrings —they used that one just earlier today— before his hands are glowing warm from the second-hand touch.

His fingers spring apart and the staff hits the tiles with a loud clatter. Even though it's just him out on the balcony, he still casts an awkward glance around him. Gods

If his brothers could see him now, Azriel thinks dryly.

He swats at the shadow that had unhelpfully fed him the information. It dances away from him, swooping down to circle the staff on the ground with its others, a mass of black surrounding it.

Azriel bends down and gingerly picks up the staff, his hazel eyes staring at it for a long moment. Where your hands have been.

After a moment, his fingers curl around it. His marred hands feel like they're glowing again, warm and tingling, even if he knows it's all in his mind. Even so, he swears the golden thread between you hums, just ever so slightly.

He'll allow himself this, just this once, Azriel decides. His grip tightens and he heads to the ring, preparing to train, his hands where yours were just mere hours before.

—

The day after you had met Cassian, as the dawn breaks over sky, you find him on the training balcony before you.

You're a little later than you'd normally be, the sun actually rising before you do. You're moving a little more sluggishly too, but for once it's for a better reason.

Sleep, normally light and fitful for you, had actually been a reprieve last night. You slept deeply, falling into dreamless slumber and resting properly.

When morning crept in, dragging your eyelids up had felt like a mountainous amount of effort. Part of you wonders if it's because of the male across the balcony from you.

Allies, you had agreed upon.

It's a little easier to rest when you've made one less enemy.

Watching him now, stretching his supple and bulging arms, you have to force down the instilled anxiety that festers up, a force of habit that's kept you safe all these years.

You're not in Exordor anymore. You're not keeping any secrets.

Cassian clocks your hesitant stance in the doorway as he turns, a wide grin breaking across his face. His wings perk up, a genuine sign of his excitement. He stops his stretching momentarily to wave.

"Morning!" He calls out, despite the fact the distance between you doesn't require him to do so.

"Ally." He adds pointedly, leaning over to give an over the top wink.

Somewhere buried deep inside you, a laugh almost wants to wriggle free, but it's smothered before you can think too hard. You give him a wry smile instead, the best you can manage, and take a tentative step down onto the balcony. Your wings give a tiny shiver in the passing breeze.

"Good morning," You manage to return, the words sticking in your throat on the way up. It's awkward but nothing in Cassian's friendly demeanor changes to indicate he's noticed. Your feet lead you over towards the weapons rack.

It's as you reach them do you realise your heart is rabbiting wildly, pounding in your chest, stewing you in discomfort. The hair on the back of your neck rises, prickling with unease. Your back is turned to a fierce warrior, one that could very well attack you.

And worse, you'll be training next to him, still not healed, still stumbling on your feet—revealing all the ways to strike you down.

You—you haven't done this, ever. You haven't trained with someone completely as yourself, with no facade to hide beneath. It suddenly becomes incredibly vulnerable.

Your hand trembles as you reach out for the training staff and you try your best to swallow down your nerves.

Cassian has kept his distance, resuming his stretches, but you don't miss how his eyes dance over to you every couple of seconds. For a moment, it alarms you but as you find a place and settle into your stance, you steal another glimpse.

It's more like... a dog wagging its tail, you think faintly.

You press down the urge to smile and begin your exercises.

There's all of ten minutes of silence before it gets broken.

"How do you like Velaris?"

You pause in your motions, huffing to catch your breath as your grip the training staff loosens. You cast a glance over at Cassian who's now picked up one of the broadswords, beginning to throw its weight around easily.

You blink and for a moment, your eyes dart out over the edge of the balcony, to the city teeming with life, so close and yet so far from you. A part of you aches fiercely to see it.

"I... haven't been into the city." You answer honestly. It comes out curt and doesn't exactly answer his question.

Eyeing his sword nervously, your force your aching muscles through another series of exercises. You're a sliver better than the day before but when your ear twinges loudly, you still stumble, a minuscule motion. Your heart lurches up your throat, frustration welling like a tidal wave within you.

"Okay, then how do you like the House of Wind?"

You pause again, looking over to Cassian tentatively, the pain in your ear momentarily forgotten. The rising frustration in you dissipates at the distraction. He waves a casual hand over to the house you've been residing in since you arrived in Velaris and smiles once more.

You swallow thickly. What is his angle here?

"I haven't..." You struggle to put your thoughts into words. It's... different. New. Unsettling. You don't want to say the wrong thing. For all you know, this may well be his home.

Eventually, you find your voice. "I like my room. It's—" Several words ping to the front of your mind. "—big."

You cringe. Some compliment that is. You're too honest even if it is true; you're far too used to the familiar cramped space of your own cabin. Even sharing walls with others is foreign to you and you're incredibly thankful you haven't run into anyone unexpectedly in any corridors yet.

It doesn't occur to you that it might entirely be by design, thanks to Rhys' strict instruction.

Cassian grins. "Yes, I recall Illyria being hardly known for it's roomy cabins."

He swings the sword around with a flick of his wrist, more like an idle motion than anything. Your eyes still flicker down keenly, watching for any threat, just in case.

"So, you haven't explored the house much then?" Cassian continues, feigning a stab forward with the sword, his eyes on his motions but his attention still focused primarily on you.

You follow his lead and swing the training staff again, in an arching whoosh. You shake your head in answer to his question.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you always talk this much during training?"

The words come out before you can think to check them, sucking in a sharp breath as you realise how snappy that sounded. Like you're looking for a fight.

You ready yourself to sink into a defensive stance, before you realise that Cassian has only laughed in response. A curl of his tied back hair comes loose as he shakes his head, the action almost... fond.

"Only when I'm trying to make friends." He grins warmly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Sorry, I'll stop prying."

You swallow and nod slightly, hoping it won't be read as rude. Though you'd had a hard time believing it, Cassian had been true to his word; no fighting unless it was in the ring. You hadn't dared to go near it yet.

Readjusting your stance, you prepared to go through the motions once more. It's still a bit more of the juvenile exercises than you're used to—forced back to the basics as you retrain your body—but also because you're solitary training. You're used to sparring with others.

Stealing a glimpse at Cassian, you ponder if—if you might, eventually that is, train alongside him as you had done with Azriel.

Moving the training staff deftly, you thrust it forward and twist your lithe body to dart forward again, a small patter of your feet on the stone.

It's maneuver used for rushing opponents, throwing them off their balance and driving them backwards. It works for you, mostly, but the way your wings cut through the air, the slightest whistle through the holey scars, makes you a little unsteady.

"You fight like you're bigger than you are."

Straightening up, you breathe heavily and peer around the edges of your wings back at Cassian—who apparently isn't done talking at all.

He nods to you, in reference the maneuver you've just performed. "That is a move usually far better suited for someone of a larger stature."

You clear your throat, wings curling in a bit closer around you. "Yes. Azriel, he- he was trying to rectify that. There's only one way to train Illyrians, as I'm sure you know."

Cassian nods again, lowering the sword to hang at his side. "That I do. However, I feel Azriel may have been taking the wrong approach given... the information he was not privy to at the time."

Your brows knit together, something wrong twisting tightly in your chest.

"Because I'm..."

Female.

"Not a male?"

The words come out sharp without meaning to.

Cassian's picks up on your defensiveness, his expression softening. He gives a little so-so motion with his free hand, his wings rustling behind him. "A bit, but not for reasons you may think."

When you don't speak, he continues, his explanation unfurling.

"Your centre of gravity is different to ours. That actually changes the best way for you to fight. More of your strength comes from these—"

He slaps his hands down onto his thighs with a grin.

"—than from your arms. For that reason, there are moves you will be better at than what you've been taught."

Cassian cocks his head, his dark eyes squinting for a moment, deep in thought. "Azriel likely switched your training to agility based, didn't he?"

You nod gingerly. You had no idea if what he was said was true. If there was a fighting style suited to females. That would require... female warriors which, for all you've ever known, is a highly unlikely thing to exist.

Though, being he is the General of the Night Court's armies, you'd likely assume Cassian knows what he's talking about.

He nods, that same easy smile. "He was right to do so. Most camps focus on brute strength and stamina. Makes for good warriors that can take hits and keep going. You can train that way if you still wish but you might find you excel when your efforts are put elsewhere."

It takes a long moment before you realise exactly what his words mean.

An offer. He's offering to train you, to teach you.

Pleasant surprise blooms inside you, warm, curling up behind your ribs like a purring cat. Cassian's eyes are light and friendly, his body language relaxed as though if you turn him down, it'd be of no consequence to him. Merely an offer.

You turn it over in your mind, back and forth. The gentle wind from the mountains caresses across your cheekbones, a warm touch.

Inside, deep in your chest, there's something telling you to trust. To take the step forward, to accept Cassian's outstretched proposal. That you might regret it if you didn't.

"How?" Your eyes skirt up and down on instinct, still on alert for a threat that isn't coming.

Cassian grins infectiously, not even attempting to hide his glee. He rolls his shoulders back and assesses you once more.

"Have you ever heard of the headscissor takedown?"

—

Flesh hits stone, a large shuddering bang that echoes out the courtyard. In the distance, a couple birds take flight, squawking loudly. Pain ricochets through your knees, a warbling and jarring pain that has you gritting your teeth.

"You're..." Cassian's breath comes out raggedly. "Incredible!"

He beams from where he's pinned beneath you and your pain dashes away in a moment, something gleaning and prideful taking its place.

There's a rivulet of blood under his nose, his hair knocked loose, and you know hitting the ground as hard as he did won't have been nice. He continues on as if he hasn't.

"That was perfect form. You're a Cauldron-born natural!"

You huff a breath that might be an actual laugh this time and quickly retract yourself, standing to your feet. You waver momentarily, hesitance poisoning your thoughts, before you decide. Holding out your hand to help, Cassian is quick to put his hand in your own and use it to lug himself up.

When he gets to his feet, his grip loosens but he doesn't let go altogether.

"Hey," He says, more serious this time. His fingers around your wrist, soft and warm, still make your pulse jump nervously. You force yourself to meet his gaze, still friendlier than ever. "Seriously. You're very skilled and you're a fast learner. You've got the makings to be lethal. The Night Court is lucky to have you on our side."

His hand slips back, grazing your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel the way your heart skips a beat.

No one has ever been... lucky to have you. It's so foreign that hearing someone say it aloud makes you forget to breath for one long second.

"I—" The word pushes out before you think about it. "That's... You-"

Praise is not a part of Illyrian training. You fumble with it, feeling entirely out of your depth, feeling oddly proud of yourself. It feels like your cheeks are warmer than usual.

Cassian chuckles, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "You're welcome." He says pointedly, making you realise you're supposed to say thank you after someone compliments you.

You flounder for another second, making Cassian laugh again, louder this time. He reaches forward and lightly taps you on the shoulder, a faux punch.

"You'll get used to it." He says. Part of you really, really wants to. "Now, c'mon. Let's go again. Hit me."

—

You think that now Cassian's got what he wanted—the two of you training together, learning the plethora of new moves, stances, blocks he has in his repertoire—he wouldn't have anymore questions.

You're sorely, sorely, wrong.

Two mornings later, the pair of you prepare for some sparring with the swords in the ring. Cassian's purposefully picked one of the heavier ones for himself, broad and long, but he'd put aside a blade for you.

It's smaller, lighter. It reminds you of Heartstriker.

Which reminds you of Azriel.

The mere thought of him has your heart humming, miserable and elated all at once. You're still not sure if you'd like to see him just yet, the confusing twist of betrayal too fresh, but still, some part of you seeks him out, consciously or not.

You want to wander the halls until you find the door to leads to him.

It's because he was your first friend. You reason, as you step up towards the sparring ring. He was the first person you trusted. Was? Is—maybe.

Do you still trust him?

Cassian is already in the ring, waiting as patiently as he can. His rustling wings give him away, even as casual as he looks leaned up against one of the corner posts.

His wings are stretched out, towards the sun's rays that are just beginning to slip over the horizon, trying to steal some of their warmth.

A yawn slips past your lips. The night of restful sleep was an outlier it seemed, the tendrils of a calming, easy sleep stolen away just as quickly.

Fingers curling around the hilt of the short sword, you step gingerly into the ring, eyes casting across to your opponent. You roll your shoulders back, warming up the muscles a bit more, and give your own wings a little shake. A shiver wracks through you in response, the chill of the morning touching on sensitive scars.

"Is there a particular reason Azriel is avoiding you?"

Your head snaps up at the sound of Cassian's voice, cool and calm.

He hasn't shifted, though his wings are tucked back in now. His sword is still relaxed at his side, his worn hand tucked around the hilt of it freely.

The usual chattiness that Cassian has been able to coax out of you these last few days shrivels up. Azriel is avoiding you? You hadn't wanted to see him but this—something curls up inside you, sour and foul. You swallow hard.

"I hadn't realised." You murmur, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into your words.

Cassian blinks and seems to realise his mistake. He waves a hand dismissively, as if it can scratch away his last words. "I misspoke. I believe he is... keeping his distance."

He furrows his brow, face pinched, picking his words carefully. "For your sake." He adds.

You... don't know how you feel about that. On one hand, you're relieved. It's not by pure chance that you haven't seen him yet, it's purposeful—he's keeping out of your way, giving you peace.

On the other hand, something twined in your chest pangs sorrowfully, mourning the distance between you.

While Cassian's presence as an ally (or perhaps, you'll even admit, a friend) is comforting, you'll admit it does not fill the same shape in you as Azriel does. You miss him, quite terribly so.

"What makes you think he's avoiding me?" You ask.

Cassian gives an little shrug, his head tilting to the side just a bit. He smiles in a way that tells you he knows more than he lets on. Or maybe, he simply knows Azriel far better than you do.

"He usually trains in the morning." He explains nonchalantly. "He's taken to training at night since your arrival."

You frown at the new information. You don't want Azriel to be changing things for you, to bend and warp his routines in his home, just for you. You don't want him to avoid you either, even if you're beginning to think you might never be brave enough to face him.

He left you. He was your first friend and the betrayal of that is entirely too new— but you don't know where to draw the line.

You don't know for how long you're allowed to be upset — or how long you can let this go on before you're punishing yourself just as much as you are him.

Flexing your grip on the sword, you stare across at Cassian and when you open your mouth, the words tumble out with warning.

"He..." Your breath hitches.

Something awful hooks into your chest, remembering the way he had folded himself into shadows, away from you. The look on his face.

"He left me. When I needed him more than ever." You admit.

Your voice doesn't waver but Cassian can still see the slight tremble in your shoulders, rolling in. Your eyes have dropped to study the floor of the sparring ring, seemingly lost in the memory.

Cassian's face softens, his heart aching for you. You don't even notice how your own wings have begun to curl in, a soft, comforting blanket around yourself.

It's clear you're struggling to juggle the myriad of emotions that haunt you and he gets it, Mother, does he get it. It had been hard the first time, during those first tentative months of friendship with Rhys, before Azriel was even in the picture. Cassian had one emotion that served him any purpose and that was spite.

Spite kept him alive. Spite told him who to knock down and who to put down.

Friendships and spite are not the greatest combination. When Rhys had done something Cassian had vehemently disagreed with, it had felt like a deception, stinging as badly as the backhand from Lord Devlon, sneering the word bastard.

It took time to undo the messy tangle of emotions, to learn that not all betrayal fell into the same box. That forgiveness for some people was not weakness at all.

So, Cassian asks. "Did he come back?"

You glance up at him, eyes flickering with emotion at the question. After a moment, you swallow and say. "Yes. He did."

Cassian nods. He stretches his wings out a bit and reaches up to push a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

"Alright. How long do you intend to punish him for that mistake?"

You freeze at that question and Cassian can tell he's hit the right spot. You're unsure how long you should—because all you know is that you're hurt. And when you're hurt, you don't know any other way to deal with it.

There's only one pathway ingrained for when someone hurts you. Cassian realises suddenly, Mother help him, that he must try to be good at the talking side of things. He needs to show you there's other ways you can go.

"Because," He continues, not waiting for your answer. "I can assure you that Azriel will punish himself for far longer and far harsher than you ever will. I've known my brother a long time. If there anyone who understands the gravity of his actions and will torture himself over them, it's Azriel."

A hesitant expression shutters across your face, your brows furrowing slightly. Cassian doesn't need Rhys' daemati gift to understand the conflict that's battling within you.

"You think I should forgive him."

You don't pose it as a question. A little bit more of that iciness has bled back into your voice, on guard again.

Cassian can tell that, like him, you don't take well to being told what to do. That's fine; Cassian has no intention of doing that whatsoever.

"I think that is your decision entirely." Cassian says, letting the words breathe so they truly sink in. He watches as your eyes narrow momentarily and then your shoulders relax, sinking down an inch.

"But," He says gingerly. "If you avoid each other, you might never move past this. Might never move forward. It might be worth considering what you really want at the end of the day."

The sun has properly broken across the mountain ridges, no longer just sparse rays. You turn your face, facing towards the warmth. There's still that scrunch between your eyebrows, betraying your deep thought, but Cassian has said enough for now.

He moves his sword and taps the end of it against the stone, a soft steel ping grabbing your attention. You whip your head back to face him and Cassian grins, raising his sword.

"Enough talking. More fighting."

You smile, a little hesitant but entirely genuine, and raise your sword in response. That's one thing you're sure you know how to do right.

[NEXT PART: FRIENDS (AGAIN)]

tags below!

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco

@iamjimintrash @maendering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee

@viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13

@bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa

@fanworrior @skysayhi @vintageoldfashion @tequilya @fabulouslyflamboyant5

@rhysandorian @laughterafter @brieftriumphnightmare @hirah-yummar @some-person-somewhere

@scooobies @sfhsgrad-blog @cherry-cin @bookloverandalsocats @megscabinetofcurios

@doodlebugsblog @landofpetrichor @acourtofdreamsandshadows @florabelll @tanyaherondale

@aomi-recs @letmejustreadthanks @problemfinder @sevikas-whore @doodlebugg16-blog

@meandmysillywriting @justingnoreme @krowiathemythologynerd @hanatsuki-hime @sunny747

@coffeebeforewater @kalulakunundrum @marina468 @moonbirde @yellow-birdy @sheblogs

@shinyghosteclipse @randombibitch @itsjustwinter @emryb @books-all-the-way13

@thatsassyhufflepuff @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1 @bobbyisbored

@historygeekqueen @roseodelle @assriels @rem-ie @storiumemporium

@lovingkelj @itsswritten @breadsticks2004 @marina468 @sapphena

[walkingstackofbooks]

Consider: Julian being pregnant with Yoshi and going to Federation parenting classes with Miles and Keiko. And encountering a list of all the rights and freedoms every child is supposed to be entitled to. Some of which... don't sound like his childhood. (Cw child abuse)

I've got SO MANY more ideas for this it may turn into a series who knows??? But I want to share it now so people can maybe like it? Because I have feeeelings.

--

"So these are just, uh, suggestions, right? Parents don't have to do all of them?" Julian asked, instantly regretting it. If Miles' dirty look was anything to go by, clearly that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Julian," he gritted out, "you're my best mate and you're carrying my child so I'm going to give you a chance to explain. What the hell do you mean by that?"

Julian really wasn't sure that he could. Some of the statements on the poster had surprised him, that was all, but he didn't really want to get into the reasons why.

"Don't, uh— Don't worry. It's not important," he tried to deflect.

"It bloody well is important, if you're just planning to ignore what you're learning here."

"Miles—" Keiko broke in, placing a hand on her husband's knee.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Julian exclaimed, cradling his stomach protectively. "I was just saying that, um... I guess that they're not all as important as each other, are they? Lack of privacy, for example - that's not exactly abusive, is it, like some of the others?"

"That's a common misconception, but no, Doctor Bashir," answered Mx Rakoto. "Any parent showing a consistent failure to meet any one of these standards would be enough to investigate them for abuse."

"Oh."

"What do you mean, "oh"?" Miles asked, with an irritation that compelled Julian to shrug and look away.

"I guess I just didn't realise it was taken that seriously," he replied, feeling kind of silly and small as he said it. "I know we learnt about them in school, but back then it was more of a thing for teachers than parents, wasn't it?"

There was a pause, before Keiko said tentatively, "...These have always been for parents, Julian."

"Mrs O'Brien is correct," Mx Rakoto added. "Your parents would have completed a very similar course to this - some things have changed of course, there's always more progress that can be done, but the fundamental rights and freedoms of children haven't changed, and nor has the law."

"No, but..." Julian's brain didn't seem to be working properly; was he missing something?

"You're saying these are things I should have had at home and at school?"

"Yes?"

"And my parents should have known about them?"

"I would find it hard to believe that they didn't. Parents are required to access learning about this every few years."

"Oh." Julian's voice had gone very quiet at the point. "I think I— I need a minute..." he said shakily, eyes glued to the poster in front of him, reading and rereading the information as he tried to figure out what he'd got wrong.

Right to privacy.

Right to choose their own name.

Right to appropriate support and accommodations of a disability.

Freedom from unnecessary medical interventions.

Freedom from torture.

Right to make mistakes.

"Julian?" asked Keiko softly, startling him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I mean, it's not like I thought they were great parents, you know, but I didn't think... Well, most people complain about their parents, don't they? I didn't think mine were abnormally bad. But there are so many things—" His voice quavered, almost breaking. "And you say they could have been investigated for just breaking one?"

"What... what kind of things?" asked Miles hesitantly. "Only if you want to tell us, of course."

Julian's eyes flicked around the room, but Mx. Rakoto seemed to have left the room.

"They've gone," confirmed Keiko, seeming to catch onto what he was thinking. "I can go too, if you'd prefer..."

"No - it's alright," said Julian. "It's just... a lot to take in."

His eyes returned to the poster. Right to encouragement. Freedom from humiliation and constant criticism. Right to self-expression. Right to relax and play. Right to mistakes.

"It must be hard, right," he started, looking to them both anxiously, "to keep these all in your head? There's a lot of them, it must be normal to not remember all of them all the time?"

Miles and Keiko exchanged glances, a second-long conversation that Julian was not privy to.

"All parents make mistakes," said Keiko kindly. "It's when these things start getting ignored often that there's a problem."

"And some of them you barely have to think about anyway," added Miles. "You know, "right to shelter", "right to food", "right to clothes" - it's not difficult stuff. You don't have kids if you don't want to look after them properly."

"Then why did my parents find it so difficult?" The words burst out of Julian before he could stop them. "What was so wrong with me that meant they didn't do all this?"

"No, oh no, Julian," said Keiko, as Miles reached out to pull him in for a hug. "Don't think like that. It wasn't you—"

Julian wasn't really listening: his question had finally given him the puzzle piece he had been missing - he'd realised what hadn't been adding up.

"No... no, it's fine," he said, feeling a little floaty now he'd got his thoughts all in order. "No, it was me. I was a difficult kid. That's..." He shook himself, feeling his cheeks get hot as he wondered what the O'Briens must be thinking. "I'm sorry, this session was supposed to be about your child, not about me."

"Our child," corrected Miles gruffly. "And this is important, Julian. I don't give a damn if you were "difficult", your parents don't get to just ignore your rights."

"You don't understand," said Julian desperately, hoping he'd be able to make them see even without mentioning his enhancements. He'd made a real mountain out of a molehill here, he didn't know why he hadn't managed to connect the dots quicker before this all had spiralled out of control. "I tried to piss my parents off. I'd stay out too late and go drinking illegally and date guys way too old for me just because I knew it would annoy them. And I'd always talk back and argue with my dad, and find ways to be smarter than him, and—"

"And none of that was enough to lose your rights, Julian," said Keiko gently. "That's not how it works."

Julian was shaking; he didn't want to listen to them. He'd figured it out - it was his fault his parents hadn't done everything they were supposed to, because if it wasn't his fault, it was their fault, and that meant... well, that they were abnormally bad parents, and that... that...

"Hey," said Miles, more softly than Julian had ever heard him, peeling Julian's hands away from where he'd been covering his ears. "Let's say you're right — just for a moment," he added in response to Keiko's hissed "Miles?". "Maybe we don't understand everything that went on. Why don't you tell us which of these you weren't getting from your parents, yeah? Explain it to us a bit more?"

Flashing him a weak smile, Julian nodded. He should have known he could always count on Miles.

"Okay, yeah, um— so I guess, uh, "right to choose your own name"?" he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched Keiko pull the poster up on her PADD and circle it, but choosing not to comment. "It wasn't like, transphobic or anything though," he defended. "They'd just always called me 'Jules' since I was little, you know? So it's not really..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"Okay..." said Miles, and Julian tried to ignore the dubious look his friend shot at Keiko. "Anything else?"

"Um - I always had to, uh, leave my door open? Or if I closed it, they wouldn't knock before coming in... That's not that weird though, right? One of my Academy friends thought it was, but--"

"Did you feel like your parents respected your privacy?" asked Keiko, and Julian looked at her for a few seconds, before shaking his head.

"But they were my parents," he said. "That was just how they looked out for me. They were supposed to look out for me."

"And you were supposed to have a right to privacy," replied Keiko, making another circle on her PADD. Fuck, this wasn't going the way Julian had thought it would. Hurriedly, he looked for a different one to try to explain better.

"Constant criticism," he said, distantly noticing the strangled tone to his voice. "That's hardly surprising, right? I mean, if you get things wrong all the time, you're going to be criticised, that's just how it works."

Neither Keiko nor Miles looked convinced; clearly he wasn't trying hard enough, describing clearly enough why it had been alright his parents hadn't been perfect. He was getting this all wrong.

The right to make mistakes.

For some reason, those had been the words his eyes hadn't been able to leave alone. Every time he went past them, his heart caught on them, as though the words were a rusty nail left half-buried in his skin.

It wasn't a fair comparison, really. He had been different to the other children - better, smarter - so of course he hadn't been allowed to make the same mistakes they did. Of course his parents' expectations had been high; they'd known what he was.

But all the same, it sounded nice, that imaginary childhood where all mistakes were okay, not just the ones he'd carefully measured out to avoid detection.

He didn't realise he was crying until he felt a rough thumb wiping a tear off his cheek.

"Oh, Julian," Miles was saying. "It's okay, you can let it out now. We're here for you. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known."

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Separate | © scribblesofagoonerr

pairings: leah williamson x jordan nobbs x child!reader

summary: child reader is finding it hard to deal with her mum's separation.

once again, shout out to @alotofpockets for her help with this one!

let me know what you guys think about this one, as i'm looking to write more and obviously include a certain reader from another series...

"Come on, buddy. Cheer up!" Jordan frowns, turning round to see you reluctantly dragging her feet up the driveway of the home she once shared with her ex-girlfriend and you, "I thought you'd be excited to come home and be able to see mummy finally?"

You stand there with your arms crossed and scowl plastered on your face, "No! I don't wan' to go in there!" You tell her, stubbornly.

You might only be 3-years-old, but you know what you want and this is something you definitely didn't want to do.

"Why not?" Jordans' confused with your blunt answer, considering the fact that while you were away with her, it was the complete opposite.

You had spent the week on holiday in Greece with Jordan and her best friend Katie, you had such a good time and you didn't want to go back home to Leah, because then it meant that you wouldn't see Jordan for a while again.

Sure it's only a weekend but in your 3-year-old mind, that's still a long time to wait.

You wish that they could both be together with you all of the time.

"Cos' I don' wanna, mama!" You state, like that explains it all.

Your stubbornness is something neither Leah or Jordan quite know where you got it from, but it's a trait that they've both learnt to pick their battles wisely.

"Okay," Jordan exhales a sigh and crouches down to your level, "But I think that mummy might be upset about that, won't she? I bet she's excited to see you as well!"

You know that Jordan's right, but you still didn't want to go back to Leah's, even if your favourite person is there.

"I don' care, mama!" Your little voice shouted aloud while you stomped your foot in protest.

"Hey, hey, come on," Jordans' voice is gentle but there's still a sense of firmness there, "There's no need to shout about this, is there?" She questions.

You huff and continue to stomp your little feet in defiance, "I don' want to go in there, mama! I don' wanna!" You exclaim, stubbornly.

The women knows this another argument with you that won't end well if she's not careful, "Okay, alright... Can you tell mama the reason that you don't want too?" She wonders, trying to get to the bottom of your reason.

"Cos' when I go in there then that means you leave, and I don' want you to go!" You explain, the reason in your hand is perfectly acceptable.

"You've been with me all week though, buddy. It's mummy's turn to spend time with you now though, isn't it?" Jordan still continues to be gentle and coax you closer to the front door, where Leah's know seen you both and is probably rushing towards the door right now.

Shaking your head, you continue to be stubborn about the decision, "Don' want that though. I wan' go back with you and see Blu!" You tell her, like it's simple as that.

You miss the simpler times, when you had both Leah and Jordan together.

You can't remember a lot because sure you was only little when they broke up, but you still wish your 2 favourite people were always together.

Jordan gives you a sympathetic smile, "Buddy, I know you want to do that but it's your mummy's time now with you. I'll see you again at the weekend, won't I?" She asks.

"Don' want to wait until then!" You huff and stomp your feet again in protest.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Jordan exhales a sigh, knowing there's not much that she can do it based on the custody arrangement that herself and Leah had come with to split equal time with you, "Next weekend, I promise. Okay? We'll go to the aquarium or something as well!" She promises you.

You didn't have much time to protest before the door swung open to reveal Leah on the other side with a beaming smile on her face when she see's you.

"There's my girl!" Leahs' crouching down to your level and holding her arms out, waiting for you to run into them like usual.

Only this time, you didn't.

"No!" You exclaim in protest before moving to hide behind Jordans' legs, "No, wan' you. No!" Clinging to Jordan, your reluctant to move to go anywhere near Leah.

"Oh," Leah's smile turns into a confused frown, looking at Jordan for some sort of explanation because this is completely out of character for you to act like this when your usually her mini me and will follow her around everywhere.

Now you didn't want anything to do with her.

Jordan sends Leah an apologetic smile before she turns round and crouches to your height, "Buddy, I know it's hard but it's mummy's time now, remember?" She tries to explain to you, sensing that this broke Leah's heart to see you reject her in the way that you did.

"But mama, I'll miss you too much!" Your little voice admits, peeking your head out from behind Jordans' leg as your bottom lip wobbles when you see Leah.

The realisation hits Leah suddenly when she can finally understand what's going on with you and your reluctance to cling onto Jordan instead, "Jord, why don't you come in for a bit so you can spend some time with her before you have to go?" She offers her ex girlfriend.

Jordan peers up to look at Leah from where's crouching down on the floor and nods in agreement, the two of them having a silent conversation with one another before she turns back to face you, "That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it, buddy? Why don't we go inside all together?" She suggests, still trying to coax you into the house.

"O... Okay," Hesitant to move from behind Jordan too much, you slowly take hold of her hand as all 3 of you walk back inside the spacious house.

Leah's apprehensive about your newfound clinginess for the other women but tries to not let it bother her as she shuts the front door behind the three of you, "So, how was the flight?" She wonders, trying to keep the conversation polite between herself and her ex for your sake.

"Good, yeah. Buddy slept most of it," Jordan replies, ruffling your hair as she walks through into the living room, "How was Nashville?" She wonders.

Leah snorts slightly and shakes her head, "Chaotic to say the least, but it was a memorable trip with monkey," She smiles faintly as she stands in the doorway of the living room, "Do you want a drink or anything?" She offers.

"Oh I can imagine. Sure, I'll take a glass of water please," Jordan agrees, taking a seat  on the sofa and you don't hesitate to drop yourself into her lap and nuzzle yourself as close to her as possible, "Do you want a drink, buddy?" She wonders.

"No," You say in disagreement, keeping yourself virtually attached to Jordan.

Leah smiles faintly and nods, trying to not let it get to her too much as she maneuvers into the kitchen to make said drinks, making a sippy cup of juice up for you because it was important for you to drink even if you disagreed about it, before she returns to the living room and handing the drink over to Jordan and placing your sippy cup on the coffee table.

"Hey, Buddy! Look what we got for you," Leah tries to get your attention away from Jordan as she moves to reach for the plastic carrier bag on the other end of the sofa, "I brought you a new Lego set when we was in Nashville, Monkey picked it out for you. Do you want to check it out?" She wonders, gesturing to the item in her hands.

You peer your head up from Jordans' shoulder and inspect it carefully, after hearing that your favourite person other than Leah and Jordan had a hand in picking it.

You love Monkey, she's like an older sister to you.

Even if she's 19-years-old, she still acts like a big kid.

"Wow, that's cool, isn't it, buddy?" Jordan exclaims, trying to encourage you to play with it.

"No," You murmur quietly, shaking your head and moving back to rest it on Jordan's shoulder.

"How about we all try and build it together?" Leah suggests, trying to coax you out of the clinginess slowly and what's better to do than Lego.

It's one of your favourite things to play with.

The next would be play-dough, but Leah's not too much a fan of that.

"That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?" Jordan agrees with her ex-girlfriend, hopeful that you would agree to do it.

You think about it for a few seconds, "Okay, but I wan' both mama and mummy to do it with me!" You declare, being the opinionated and bossy 3-year-old that you are.

Leah's smile brightens as she nods, "We'll all do it together, buddy."

© scribblesofagoonerr

[truuskn]

i love it so much when cybertronian characters gain a strong connection and attachment to earth. not just to their human companions but to their new home in general. there's always something so special about that, don’t you think so? the most famous example is tfa prowl or beachcomber but i want to talk about jazz

of course first and foremost it's earth music though i'm more than sure he was just as much interested in earth art, literature, theatre, everything around him. his inherent curiosity is the main reason but i think we all realise that for the last millions of years cybertron hasn't had much time for art so jazz and many others would definitely enjoy diving back into such topics finally thinking about something other than endless battles and omnipresent deaths for a moment...

at the same time it's also such a special opportunity to find out how others (not just others but people from different world!) feel about the subject you live and breathe for. the sound, the style, the drive of their music... they don't do things like that on cybertron! so new, so alien, so mysterious, so enticing. i'm sure if jazz had a chance he would visit every possible music festival on earth :D

he is drawn not only to music, not only to human culture, but also to the history of this place. he definitely starts exploring new topics with the help of spike or carly but then continues his research on his own. i think not every member of the autobot team is so careful and tender about our little earth. he learns the traditions of our planet, both serious and not so!! like the snowballs stuff (i don't think this is a thing on cybertron so he (well a lot of them) learnt it somehow specifically to play with spike aww). he watches earth soap operas and he's really-really into earth slang haha. he adores all the beautiful places they had been fortunate enough to see during each mission. and of course he cares deeply about the people that fate brings them together with. he likes to spend time with them, learn new things from them, enjoy the time they've been given together

and of course i can't help but touch animated jazz as well. he hadn't spent much time on this planet but he genuinely loved it. jazz shared prowl's deep interest in this world. he'd only stepped on the surface of the earth but was already positive about it despite all the stories they'd been fed at the academy over the years. water dripping from the sky? that's awesome! and all the organics are so funny and cute! trees? animals? buidings? cars? human entertainments? so many cool things here, so many new possibilities, you just have to open your spark to them

i just adore how kind, gentle and welcoming he is to everything around him. oh we need more people like jazz. not just in transformers

[fall0utmind]

WAIT WAIT TOM/FABIO DOM/SUB FIC?? PLEASE WRITE IT I BEG....

Okay okay

Now is a good time to reply to this, cause i just posted the first part of my Tom/Fabio series and the last part is all about this.

So what I am thinking Is that Fabio doesn't know this is a thing for him, because that's my favourite thing to write about. It's gonna kinda be an under-negotiated kink thing, I think.

It's only when Tom and Fabio are sleeping together, they haven't long been together and maybe Fabio is kinda struggling to get into it properly, it feels like something is missing but he doesn't know what. The sex is good, so good but it feels like their usual vibe doesn't transfer to the bedroom, like Tom usually takes such good care of him, controls aspects of his life, makes sure he's looking after himself and orders him around if he isn't. But in the bedroom, Tom is of course looking after him, making it feel good, but he's so cautious, so unlike the tom he knows and Fabio is CONFUsed.

It's only when Tom is kinda frustrated one day, not at Fabio, but it has been a long day and suddenly he's pushing Fabio against the wall and picking him up and telling him to be good and Fabio is melting (🫠🫠). Best sec they've ever had.

Fabio is slipping hard and fast into something else, his brain hazy and far away which means when he cums he can't speak, can't think for a solid few minutes. He just lets Tom clean him up, and coax him to drink and THIS is what Fabio was missing. Fabio isn't a stranger to rough sex, but it's never been like this before, sure he's been tied up, and hit around a bit, but he's never felt like he was floating.

When he comes to, Tom is looking at him. All worried. And fabio is like idk what that was but fuck it was so good.

Tom presses a kiss to his lips, thinking. And says, " I had an ex girlfriend once. She was really into like being tied up, and hit and stuff. Yknow, bdsm"

And Fabio is blushing hard, avoiding Tom's eyes until he puts a hand under his chin and forces Fabio to keep eye contact.

"I learnt quite a lot. Turns out I was pretty into it. Where you just went, was that sub space? You wanna try it like that?"

Fabio has no idea but fuck is the thought so hot so he lets Tom take complete control next time and they start adding it into their dynamic, little by little, exploring as they go. It is not explicitly talked about but they're defo learning as they go and anyways the dynamic is so good!!!! Fabio is obsessed!! Tom always makes it about him, and his pleasure, and pushed him right to the edge and knows exactly what Fabio needs.

Not sure how far they'd go with it. What would you guys like to see? What do you all think???

[dalliancekay]

Crowley is not stupid, Aziraphale is not an idiot and other assorted thoughts

Or how nothing is black and white and my bullying home and religious trauma is a metaphor not a direct translation to what our immortals experience. And vice versa. -

I don't know what it's like to hang out on Earth since the beginning but I'm sure it is richer than we can imagine, than we could imagine. Our two favourite, currently men shaped beings, are captured for our storytelling enjoyment when their time on the Blue Planet is about to be cut off.

One has been thrown out from their family home ages ago, we are not sure for what misdemeanour exactly, and is now working for a dumpy place where they don't mind inflicting pain if you misbehave nor do they care whether anything is fair. So, a mafia, basically. And our hero is tasked with collecting new additions to the unhappy family on top of that. He doesn't much care for it and seems to do the bare minimum only and/or collect victims who've already proven they belong there.

The other has been sent to the young planet to guard the indigenous humans and told something vague about an Ineffable Plan that will all work out when there's a War in a few thousand years, which 'our', the 'good' side will win and everyone will be happy. Just tell the humans to behave and if they don't kick up a fuss, we will welcome them here too. And here is a vast, empty place, overly lit, with busy, lonely bees working and filing, and checking, making sure rules are in place and are followed as written and everything is ticking over; the higher ranks' punishments rare but swift. Everyone has learnt a lesson when half of them were unceremoniously fired when someone said some nasty things about the CEO. So things might not be perfect but at least if you stick to your tasks you will be left alone. So, we meet the demon Crowley, whose family threw him out as mentioned above and his job sucks and he hates it but it's not hard and his placement is rather a nice place so he does his best to not to lose the position. Sometimes he wonders what is the point of it all and that's when he runs into his adorable archenemy, the angel Aziraphale. Aziraphale was sent to Earth and given a job, one that doesn't seem to quite work out (or does it?) as he follows his heart instead of the rules almost immediately but surprisingly is not punished for it by the CEO. So he spends his time helping the natives where he can, following orders he receives as far as he must and when he runs into his archenemy the demon Crowley, he feels a certain strange tingle and flutter in his heart at the sight of the rulebreaker. They have done a fair job of it for 6 millennia. They avoid getting fired and even manage to take on each other's tasks to lighten up the load and the (pointlessly) random business trips (does anyone Up or Down there ever heard of geography?)

When we meet our heroes in present day-ish, they've been told the End of the World sequence has been triggered and life as they know it is about to end.  How do they feel about this? Well. Our demon is appalled. He knew this was coming. But not really. It's just something to sort of work towards right? After all, the Earth has been developing rather nicely. The alcohol got better, the food for his Angel, the music got interesting, the clothes tighter... He's having a good time. Yes, he pushes his luck sometimes. Sleeps too long, gives in and saves someone instead of ruining them. He gets into all kinds of tangles to spend time with his crush. He is rash but he's not stupid. He knows what's at stake. But he is angry. And sometimes that's hard to contain. He does go too fast. But Aziraphale is always there to catch him. And if he can't, he waits and worries and is there when Crowley returns. So about the angel? He knows he should dislike the demon. He knows he should follow his directives. He knows he should not meet or talk to Crowley. And what does he do? Gets himself arrested in his fanciest silks so they can have crepes when the world and humanity is bringing them down with their relentless hate towards each other. He puts on a magical performance when the demon fails to deliver some contraband liquor in the midst of the Blitz bombing to save his face.

And, now. Here's the funny bit. Our angel has gotten himself a part time job in the past few centuries. He's had a few before, but not quite like this. He has a place he loves now. A safe, cluttered place where a demon is welcome. It's not much like his original home. You could say... it's rather quite the opposite of it. In any case, he never really got on with his managers but tbf he likes his job. It makes the humans happy and he loves the humans and loves making them happy. He also does not want the world to end. But his fam has always told him that that's the Plan. It was The Plan since before Earth was even formed and humans were just a design concept. Once this bit is over, an even better one will come along etc.

What is my point?

That neither Crowley or Aziraphale are wrong. Or right. Doing the correct thing. Or not. Me. You. We come from broken families, we have been friends and lovers with bad people, we have escaped religions, cults, home countries. Lies. Rules. Hate. We have fought for our love to be recognised as love.

Crowley and Aziraphale live in a world where Heaven and Hell are real. Where Satan rules over a smelly place with mould on the walls and God is engrossed in her sci fi novels and seems to have forgotten about Her Earth project.

You can't call Aziraphale an idiot for believing in God. She exists. Whether She has a plan is open to debate, sure. She seems to have claimed so at some point, but then, we all change, don't we. Maybe She changed Her mind and forgot to tell the upper management. Maybe She thought She didn't need to spell out all the details to them and so in their zealousness, they want to kill Job's kids. Maybe She was vague on purpose much in the style of King Henry II and Thomas Beckett.. Anyway. Back to Aziraphale, our angel on Earth. He is kind, clever, anxious and in love. With humanity and with one particular demon. And in the millennia he holds his post, he changes. He slowly learns to trust himself more. Trust his judgment. Find 'technicalities to do what he prefers, not what he is told. It started with the sword and his giving away of it. He made a decision to protect Job's children. Risked Falling for it. Trusted the demon over his bosses.

Nobody noticed (or did they) how our two field agents fell in love (neither did they tbf) and how fiercely they guard the little secret they share.

So. Things happen. Plan A, War and Destruction, did not work out. The youngster they sent from Below decided he likes the new place and refused to ruin it. Both Aziraphale and Crowley learned things. They are still learning. The demon how to trust someone. The angel how to trust himself. So what's next? The place Above is going to send their trusted agent. He followed the rules last time seamlessly. It did not quite work out but no problem, they'll send Him out again. With a rather more final arrangement.

In the meantime, the disgraced and rather troubling Earth agents have been lying low. Unsure of their places and overall safety, they went on with their lives as best as they could until the angel happened to help his former boss run away with his paramour from the other side and is visited by the Big Boss. Big Boss wastes no time and suggests to our angel he should come back Upstairs and take the place of his disgraced superior. To use his skills. To be better looked after perhaps. New opportunities. To be close to the big upcoming decisions or - under a close watchful eye.

Aziraphale, not surprisingly, refuses. He does not want to put any of his 'skills' to any good causes but his own. But then. THEN. He is not so subtly made aware that his dangerous liaisons with the other side have been noted and their help in the latest Complication might not go unpunished if he's not careful.

And this job offer suddenly seems FAR more sinister than it did 15 minutes ago. Especially when it is handed over with a coffee (that he does not much like) from a place called Give Me Coffee Or Give me Death. Our angel goes home to cautiously tell his demon about the trouble they are in and his world comes crashing down around him.

This post turned out to be completely different to what I originally wanted to write. Is there a point? You decide.

Aziraphale's decision makes complete sense to me, he loves the Earth, his home and Crowley over and above everything else. And he WILL fight for their safety. AND the humans in the process if he can. He's not going to Heaven to be a good little angel.

This is my very first Tumblr post. Way to go me etc. Please be kind.

[speechless-illusions]

So... The brainrot got ahold of me and I am writing the "The hunger games but it's in Haymitch POV after the things we've learnt in SOTR plus add a little bit (or more like a lot) of Hayffie slow burn because I want him to heal" fanfic.

Currently 3.7k words in and I've written until the moment Katniss gets reaped. I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep up and write all I want, so it will maybe end up as little unconnected snippets of scenes, but the plan was to at least write the first book in his POV (which will be way less shorter than the book itself, since he's not "on screen" during most of it)

It's basically a lot of connecting what happens in the book with what feelings and memories each moment would bring out of Haymitch and filling gaps of what I think Haymitch would be doing out of scene while the events in the book unfold. And in those "out of scene" parts I add conversations I think he would have with Effie and small details of how their relationship has developed in all those years they've known each other and how they subtly care for each other. Also, I want to mix scenes from the book and from the movie (or mixing some conversations that happen in the book with those ones in the movie if it seems like they could connect well) selecting those I feel give more content for me to write about Haymitch's feelings and thoughts.

I've never posted anything of what I write in AO3 here (since I've never used Tumblr for the fandoms I've written so far) and this will be my first THG fanfic ever, so I'm not sure if I should post an announcement here once I post at least the first chapter or something like that? Would someone be interested in it? Any thoughts or advices on the whole thing?

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

could I have hcs of koko and inui (separate) doing "after care" but in an SFW way for their spouse or partner after they've had a nightmare and woke them up or when they come home from a bad day at work or school pls?

Sure! I split them into Koko comforting after a nightmare and Inui comforting after a bad day at work!

Koko, comfort after a nightmare

Thinks he's the one dreaming at first, isn't sure what's going on when he wakes up to find you in the middle of a nightmare next to him. 

Holds your hand, lightly rubbing it to try and show you he's here, while he frets over whether he's supposed to wake you up or not. That decision is snatched away from him though when you suddenly wake up in a panic.

Immediately talks to you, trying to calm you down. Telling you he's right here and that you're safe etc.

Pulls you into his arms and just holds you as a way of comforting you. Encourages you to lay your head on his chest. (Even if you're crying and express worry over getting him wet, he says he doesn't care).

Tells you to talk about what happened if you want but won't push you if you don't want to explain 

He's very emphatic and understanding towards you while comforting you. But is also a bit upset himself, he just hates seeing you so upset.

Promises he'll protect you from whatever caused the nightmare, after all he sees it as his responsibility to keep you safe.

Waits for you to fall back asleep before letting himself drift off, still holding you in his arms.

Checks on how you're feeling the next morning too, even offers to take a rare day off from work if you feel like you need him around.

Inui, comfort after a bad day at work

You're not sure how he does it but you don't even have to say a word before Inui asks you what's wrong. He can just tell somethings up with you.

Asks if you want to talk to him about it. He's pretty adamant that you have to either talk to someone (even if it's not him) or write it down though. "You need to get it out or work through it in some way".

Offers to go "sort out" whatever has bothered you. He's more joking when he says this, trying to make you smile but if you said yes he'd 100% go and "sort it".

Asks you what you need from him (earlier in your relationship he was very problem solving oriented with this stuff but he learnt to ask if you wanted comfort instead over time).

He's very good at pep talks/ making you feel better about yourself. Will sit beside you, holding both your hands and looking into your eyes as he says how strong/ nice/ hard working you are. 

Also hugs you and reassures you that it's over now, the day is finished and whatever you had to do is finished. 

Hesitates slightly if you start crying but then runs off to grab tissues and dries your tears for you, while encouraging you that it's ok.

Either offers to make your favourite food for dinner or offers to take you out. Let's you choose a movie to watch if you guys are staying in (even if it's one he hates). 

The next day, before you leave he tells you to call him if you have any issues today and he'll come straight over.