#to love is to observe and to love is to know or whatever

[weemssapphic]

hello hello hello, i don’t know if your requests are open but listen

okay, imagine larissa while she’s pleasuring an other woman who is on her lap and has her front pressed to larissa’s

reader passes in front of the door where they are doing it and she hears some moans, she slowly opens the doors, just a few inches so that she can observe the scene

larissa makes eye contact with her, she doesn’t stop, no no, she keeps going and going, she brings the other woman over the edge while constantly keeping eye contact with the reader and smirking while the two women moans in each other ears

reader then realizes how wrong the situation is and go back to her room but she isn’t aware of larissa who followed her and i don’t know the rest is up to you💀 if you will ever want to write this, i understand if you don’t like it, it’s pure smut with feelings at te end? or maybe no feelings at all but just friends with benefits? idk change whatever u want!!

-xoxo dear

i love all your fics so much and ily too!

a/n: another older request that i never got to finishing as i start on some newer ones! i'm so sorry but i hope you like it and thank you sooo much, ily!!!

watching her (nsfw)

words: ~3.7k | ao3 link in title accidental voyeurism, slutty!Larissa, slightly dubious power dynamics - enjoy!

Insomnia is slowly driving you mad. It’s been at least a week since you last got more than 4 solid hours of sleep in a row and you’ve taken to restlessly wandering the corridors of Nevermore in an attempt to tire yourself out. 

Last night, you bumped into Principal Weems on your little walk, as she’d been on her way back to her quarters after being out. It had been late, sure, but you hadn’t questioned it — the woman was allowed to have a life outside of Nevermore, after all. She’d invited you back to her office for a nightcap, you’d talked for a bit, laughed even — she’d insisted you call her Larissa and stop with the formalities, it had made you blush and stutter like a fool. 

She’d said you could come by again sometime if you still found yourself plagued by sleepless nights, that she often stayed up late working and could use the company. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t call on her again, she was probably just being nice, you didn’t want to bother her — but, well… why not?

Your feet carry you towards Principal Weems’s — Larissa’s — office and you knock gently, afraid of disturbing her. The door swings open at your knock, it hadn’t been closed properly, and you stare at it, perplexed.

“Larissa?” you call out, peeking your head into the office. 

Silence.

The room is dark, the last embers dying in the fireplace — clearly she’d already retired to her quarters. You should leave… but she should know that her office is unlocked, you have a feeling she wouldn’t like that. 

Her quarters are connected to her office by a door at the far end and you make your way towards it — you’ll just knock, politely explain that you found the door to her office open, and then leave again. Surely she’d be grateful that you told her. 

As you approach the door to her quarters, you find that this one is ajar as well — and, before you have a chance to decide whether or not to knock, the most pornographic moan you’ve ever heard in your life reaches your ears.

All of the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks and you freeze in place — was Larissa masturbating? Having sex? There’s another moan, a little quieter than the first, but it sounds close, and you know you should turn around and leave but against your better judgement you lean towards the door and place your ear against it and it opens just a few inches more, so that you’re able to peer through the crack.

It feels like a hummingbird has been trapped in your chest, and even eating sand couldn’t make your mouth feel drier.

The door opens into a small sitting room, with a sofa that faces it, and sitting on that sofa is none other than Larissa herself — with a naked woman on her lap, whose back is to you. Larissa seems to be wearing lingerie, it’s hard to tell from the angle, but it’s more of her than you’ve ever seen before, her long legs spread to accommodate the other woman’s petite frame, one hand on the woman’s hip and the other hand disappearing between their bodies.

The two women are kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths. Larissa’s moans are the softer, quieter ones, and the sound makes it feel as though your whole body is suddenly on fire. Your lips feel chapped, you lick them in vain, you realize you haven’t been breathing. You know you should turn away, sneak back to your own quarters before you get caught, but your legs feel like jell-o and you’re certain that if you tried to take so much as one step, your knees would give out and you’d collapse on the spot.

Then Larissa breaks the kiss, nips at the woman’s earlobe — she tilts her head with a moan and Larissa opens her eyes and looks right in your direction and you almost do collapse on the spot, suddenly feeling more than a little lightheaded, your stomach sinking.

You brace yourself, ready for Larissa to stop everything, to come over and berate you, to unleash her fury on you and send you packing. Her eyes bore into your own, pupils so blown that barely a sliver of blue is visible, and you can’t look away no matter how hard you will yourself to. 

But nothing happens. Larissa’s lips stay firmly attached to the other woman’s neck, her shoulder flexes as her arm appears to move with even more urgency — it’s hard to see from where you’re stood but from the obscene noises that reach your ears, you can only assume that Larissa is buried knuckle deep in this woman’s cunt.

Obscenities begin to spill from her lips as she bucks against Larissa, none the wiser to the audience half-hidden behind the door. Her back arches and flexes and the tendons in her neck stretch as Larissa’s lips assault her pulse point, as Larissa digs her teeth into the smooth flesh, all the while keeping her eyes on you.

You can almost see a hint of a smirk on Larissa’s lips as she brings the other woman over the edge, holding her firmly against herself as she trembles and moans in pure, unadulterated ecstasy. It’s as if Larissa is getting off on having you watch her, her cheeks adorned with a rosy flush and her eyes hooded.

It’s almost too much for you to handle. This is so wrong, not only walking in on your boss during sex but staying and watching like a voyeur. You shouldn’t be here — even if Larissa hasn’t acknowledged you yet, you’re certain that you’ll be fired by morning, when she finally comes to her senses.

You stumble back from the door, moans continuing to spill through the crack. Your foot catches on the corner of a rug and you have to catch yourself on Larissa’s desk — the action snaps you firmly back to reality and you slip out of Larissa’s office as quietly as you can. 

Once you’re in the hallway your feet pick up speed, pure adrenaline carrying you back to your own quarters. You’re grateful that it’s the middle of the night and no one is around, surely people would question why you’re sprinting through the halls as if you’re being chased. You don’t stop until you’ve slammed and locked the door to your quarters behind you, and then your knees give out and you sink to the floor.

The thing is, you like Larissa — a lot more than you should. You probably shouldn’t have even taken the job in the first place, seeing as your crush started during your very first interview for the position. Until now, though, it’s been fairly easy to suppress your feelings. You truly don’t interact with Larissa that much, most of your time is spent with your students and working. Only now, you have no idea how you’re ever going to be able to face Larissa again.

One question gnaws at you, and the more you think about it, the more your stomach sinks. Why didn’t Larissa stop what she was doing? Why did she let you watch, why did it seem like she wanted you to watch? Was it because she has some sort of voyeurism kink? Or was it, perhaps, because she has some sort of feelings for you, too? 

You scoff at yourself — the thought of Larissa Weems finding you desirable is utterly absurd. Plus, if she did have feelings for you, why would she be fucking someone else? Tears begin to blur your vision, spilling down your cheeks, and you press your face against your knees, losing sense of time as you try (and fail) to reign in your emotions.

A gentle knock at your door rips you from your misery, and you realize that you’re still sitting on the floor. Your knees pop as you stand and you quickly wipe at your eyes with your sleeves, trying to make it look like you haven’t been sobbing. Your heart hammers in your chest as you reach for the door handle, wondering who could be calling on you — perhaps another teacher who heard you crying? Or maybe a student needs help?

Oh. 

Oh. 

It’s Larissa.

She stands tall in front of you, looking down at you in a way you’ve never seen before. She doesn’t appear to be angry — on the contrary, there’s a small, playful smile on her lips and her cheeks are flushed a gorgeous shade of pink. She’s dressed, though a bit haphazardly, and a few baby hairs peek out of her updo at her forehead.

“I thought you’d still be awake,” she says, her voice a low purr, and you’re certain your face is as red as a tomato, a lump growing in your throat. You wonder if she’s being sweet on purpose to lull you into a false sense of security, but you quickly shake the thought from your head — that isn’t like her.

Your voice fails you so you nod meekly instead, and that little act of submission turns Larissa’s smile into a smirk.

“Are you alright, darling? You don’t look very well…” Her tone is light and teasing but her eyebrows crease a bit as her eyes track the dried trails of your tears down your cheeks. You nod again, wiping at your cheeks with your sleeve, certain you’ve never looked more pathetic in your life.

“I’m fine,” you lie, the tremble in your voice giving you away, and Larissa cups your cheek, her thumb grazing across your lower lip and sending a spark down your spine — your accompanying shiver doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Was that a bit too much for you, my dear?” she coos, and your breath stutters in your chest as images that you’re trying to suppress come flooding back to you.

“I-I just…” You don’t know what to say. Is Larissa looking for an explanation? An apology? Why did she follow you? Why is she touching you?

“I’m not upset with you, darling,” she reassures you, her tone soft. So you’re not in trouble, but this is uncharted territory all the same. She takes a step towards you, backing you into your quarters, and closes the door behind herself. “Why don’t we have a seat, hm?”

Her gaze flickers to your bed and you can only nod dumbly as you let her lead you towards it with a hand on the small of your back, taking a seat beside you. Her thigh is touching yours, her body heat radiating off of her, and you swear you can smell the sex on her, and it’s making it hard to think.

“Why did you come to my quarters?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep again,” you admit quietly, clasping your hands in your lap and looking down at them to keep yourself from doing something you’ll regret. “Larissa, I-I swear, I didn’t mean to walk in on you, it’s just your office door was unlocked and I–”

“I was hoping you’d come by tonight.”

Larissa’s admission knocks the wind right out of you, and you can’t help but to look up at her, struck dumb by the amusement on her face. “Y-you were?” You hate how breathy your voice has gotten, a spark of hope and something more primal sprouting in your abdomen, but your brows knit together in confusion as you try to make sense of the situation you’ve found yourself in. “But what about that other woman?”

“Just a friend,” Larissa says casually, shrugging. 

“A… friend? Does she know you’re here?”

Larissa smirks. “She does.” Her gaze drops slowly, deliberately to your lips, turning your core to molten lava.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Larissa mocks, and your face turns crimson. She reaches into your lap and takes your hand in her own, stopping your fidgeting. “Tell me you want me to leave and I will.”

“I… can’t do that,” you admit, unable to hear your own voice over the hammering of your heart in your ears.

At that, Larissa takes your hand and places it on her own waist, then kicks her heels off and adjusts herself on the bed so that she’s slowly pushing you backwards until you’re lying flat on your back and she’s hovering over you. “Do you want this as much as I do?” she asks, her gaze flickering between each of your eyes, and you almost don’t answer because you’re so distracted by how soft and right her hip feels beneath your hand. 

“I don’t know how much you want this…” You swallow thickly and Larissa chuckles, the sound like music to your ears. “B-but yeah, I want this.”

Larissa shifts her weight onto one arm, her other hand running through your hair until it reaches your jaw. She hooks one finger below your chin and tilts it up, pressing her lips gently to yours and pressing the length of her body against you.

Her lips are just as soft as you’d pictured them to be (and it’s something you’d daydreamed about often) and your heart is beating so fast you think you might actually be having a heart attack. It takes you a moment to start kissing her back and, when you do, you reach up tentatively to cup her cheeks. The action spurs Larissa on and she flicks her tongue against your lips, silently begging you to part them — you do, without a second thought, unable to stifle the moan that rips from your chest as her tongue tangles with your own.

It’s easy to get lost in a woman like Larissa. Her mouth is hot and wet and tastes like red wine and lipstick, and her body is warm and soft and smells like tuberose and vanilla. She’s got a way of enveloping your senses so that nothing else exists in that moment apart from her, and you’re powerless to stop her — not that you would ever want to. 

She bends her leg and intertwines it with yours, sliding her hand along your jaw and into your hair, her fingers curling behind your ear as she deepens the kiss. The most sinful little sighs and moans spill from her mouth directly into yours, making you soak through your underwear faster than the best audio porn you’ve ever heard.

You think you might be having the same effect on Larissa, because you feel her shudder against you, her hand tightening in your hair as her knee inches towards your center. “I like the way you taste,” she mumbles against your lips, her tongue delving deeper into your mouth. 

“Same,” you murmur, rather pathetically, and Larissa chuckles, nipping playfully at your lower lip — then her knee presses against your core through your trousers, making you gasp. Your head falls back against the pillow and Larissa takes the opportunity to cover your neck in kisses and little bites. Her knee grinds against your cunt and, from this angle, you feel the warmth radiating from her own crotch against your thigh. “Larissa, p-please…”

“Please? Please what?” she teases, pulling back just in time to watch your face turn red, your lips parting but no words coming out. “May I take this off?” she asks, giving the hem of your shirt a gentle tug, clearly realizing she’s not going to get a coherent answer out of you, and you nod eagerly. 

Larissa’s hand is warm against your stomach and your abs contract as her fingers slide up your torso, pulling your shirt along with them and revealing more and more of your body to her. She pushes your shirt over your breasts and you help her to tug it off the rest of the way, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Your bra soon follows, Larissa’s fingers getting to work on the clasp and wasting no time in getting you naked. Her lips replace her hands, nipping at the swell of your breasts, leaving little red marks and tiny bruises, marking you as her own.

“Aren’t you just stunning?” she murmurs as she kisses her way down the center of your abdomen, her hands molding against the curve of your waist, her breath tickling your skin and making every hair on your body stand on end.

You start to squirm as she gets closer and closer to the hem of your trousers, and you feel her smirk against your lower belly as she hooks her fingers beneath the waistband and starts to tug, her lips following your trousers as they get pulled down, then discarded. 

“You’re so wet,” she coos — your cheeks are aflame as you shift your hips slightly and feel how you’ve soaked through your underwear, and then Larissa speaks again and you feel you may combust on the spot. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, darling, you’re not the only one…”

Larissa sits up, unbuttoning the front of her dress — her breasts spill out of their constraints and you realize she’s come here without a bra on. You shiver. She frees her arms from the dress and tugs it down her body, over the soft swell of her lower belly, her hips, shifting to the side to pull it down her legs and toss it aside, along with her underwear, which join the heap of clothing on the floor. In the dim light of your bedroom, you can see her pale inner thighs glisten with the evidence of her arousal, the smell of her growing stronger with no more barriers in place.

“Now, where were we…” she teases, lowering herself again so that her face is level with your cunt. She presses her lips to your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you need her most, and you struggle to keep yourself from bucking your hips against her face. You pray she doesn’t notice this but of course she does — she chuckles, her breath hitting the cool, wet spot at the center of your underwear and making you clench. “Patience, darling.” 

“S-sorry,” you mumble, fisting at the sheets to have something to do with your hands, to keep yourself from squirming and fidgeting as Larissa pulls your underwear down your thighs and then wraps her arms around them, giving you a little tug to get you just where she wants you.

A moan spills from your lips, so guttural that you hardly recognize it as your own, as Larissa runs her tongue up the length of your pussy. She mumbles something about how you taste but her voice is muffled against you and you can’t really focus on what she’s saying anyway as all the blood in your body rushes to your cunt.

You feel your knees bend of their own accord, your body opening itself to Larissa, seeking more of the pleasure she’s giving you. Her tongue dips inside of you, deeper, deeper, fuck, her tongue is long, she fucks you with it nice and slow, thorough, taking her time. When she moans it seems to vibrate throughout your entire body, you bite down on your lip so hard that you draw blood.

It’s clear now why that other woman was moaning so hard — Larissa knows just which buttons to press. Your thighs are already trembling as she thrusts her tongue inside of you, and then she circles your clit with her thumb and you see stars. You want to watch her so badly, you’ve fantasized about this moment and, if the last thing you ever saw was Larissa’s silky blonde hair bobbing between your thighs, you’d die the happiest person on the planet. But it’s so hard to keep your eyes open, every muscle in your body clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm just a little while longer.

You don’t consciously remember moving your hands but they’re in Larissa’s hair now, gripping so desperately that you’re probably hurting her — though, if you are, she doesn’t let on. She doubles down, letting you push her head against your cunt, her thumb against your clit, and you finally can’t take it anymore — your body tenses as your orgasm washes over you, the most satisfying release you’ve ever felt.

Larissa stays in position as you ride out your high and even after, gently and thoroughly cleaning you up with her tongue until you whine and twitch away from her, too sensitive to continue. She releases your legs from her hold, crawling up your body and lowering herself beside you, curling one arm around you and pulling you into her side. You rest your head against her chest, your breathing slowly synching with hers, her heartbeat helping you to regulate your own. You’re sweaty and your cheek sticks to the top of her breast but she doesn’t seem to mind, just runs her fingertips up and down your arm as you come back down to earth.

“You said you wanted this,” she says after a while, her voice quiet and contemplative in the silence of your room.

You grunt in response, still feeling a little dazed.

“Since when?”

A blush spreads across your face, you’re sure Larissa can feel the sudden heat from your cheek against her skin. You can’t believe you’re about to confess to Larissa how long you’ve liked her — but then again you can’t believe she’s just eaten you out either. “I think since I first met you, actually,” you murmur, preparing yourself for a negative reaction.

Larissa laughs, her chest rumbling beneath your head. “That’s quite a long time… though my answer wouldn’t be much better.” That alone makes your heart pound but then Larissa continues speaking and your ears start to ring. “Though I think if I’m being honest, I want a little more than just this.” 

“What do you want?” you whisper, trying desperately to keep your hope at bay. You steal a glance at Larissa’s face and, even though it’s hard to tell from the angle, you swear she has a small smile on her face.

“More than just sex, I mean,” she starts, her fingertips still tracing patterns against your bare arm. “I’d like to take you out, get to know you better… spoil you a little, perhaps.” There’s a trace of teasing humor in her voice, mixed with a vulnerability that you’ve never seen from her before. You nuzzle your face against her neck, your heart in your throat, your voice hoarse when you reply.

“That’s what I want, too…” 

Larissa presses her lips to your head and hums softly. “Then I suppose I’d like to know if you’re free this Friday evening, and if I could take you out to dinner?”

“Yes, Larissa…” You prop yourself up so that you can look her in the eye. “Yes, I would love to go out to dinner with you.” Pausing, you reach out to tuck a strand of Larissa’s hair behind her ear, your cheeks warming and your heart thrumming in your chest as you prepare to be brave. You take a deep breath. “But… for now… let me return the favor?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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[thursfys]

Ok ok so I have some personal headcanons bout Eddie and Volt along with their interactions with the homeowner/you I have to share otherwise I will explode-

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Volt

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I'm probably reaching here but along with the obvious Frankensteins monster and Jekyll and Hyde theming, I've noticed Volt has a bit of vampire coding? That pale and almost unnatural, otherworldly beauty he possess and that cheeky, effervescent charm kinda tipped me into the vampire camp for him. Also, it makes the funny energy vampire joke so yeah.

His ears are pointed at the tip and he has a killer set of fangs to boot; his left (forward perspective right) one is slightly longer than it should be and peaks out a tad when smirking, even without a full toothy smile.

Playing more off of that, I think Volt can absorb or even pass on some extra electricity to Eddie if the need arises. Ed having some nervous jitters from an excess amount of power? Walk over and bite him to siphon it off! Ed feeling worn out and drained? Walk over and bite him to give him some energy! Volt doesn't do it that often as Eddie is exceptionally stubborn (+ embarrassed) and will tuck his head into his neck and flare the collar of his shirt to prevent the loving nibbles. He knows he can't pass any power to you without, ahem, dire consequences, but he still gives occasional nibbles as a show of affection.

On a different note, you know how he turns blue when pissed off in the their hate ending? I don't think it stops just there, nonono, I think Volt can go full on supernova glow stick if you fully managed to unleash his wrath. The only reason he probably didn't go full concentrated power of the sun mode was out of grief and self control. If something were to happen to both Eddie and you, well, I don't think it'd end well for whoever or whatever hurt you both. (This was inspired by that one meme of the glowing dude sitting in a diner-)

Now that you're part of the couples lives, that overprotectiveness that Volt feels for Eddie has been doubled and passed over to you too. Any shenanigans around the house that the other inhabitants might involve you with are under supervision of Volt and Eddie, but mostly Volt. He follows from room to room through the wires, carefully observing interactions with those he knows are trouble incarnate like the Hanks or Scandalabra. If he sees any form on discomfort etch itself across your face, the lights in the room flicker violently and dangerously; the bulbs rattle like the tail of a viper and the conductive wiring glow red hot as a warning to the offending object.

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Eddie

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Again reaching really far for this, but I think he used to look more like Volt before he made him. Still himself but maybe longer hair, with more streaks of white hair that resembled Volts. I guess a better way to describe it would be that the ends of Eddies hair as it is now used to have Volts hair at the end. V has always been there but I think it's not just in a metaphorical sense but physical as well.

Even though the wire is fixed now, he still has a habit of rubbing the part of his chest where it is. He can't say if it's because he was so used to it's ache that he still traces the spot or from a deep, unfounded anxiety that it could come back. He'll paw at the spot if he's starting to feel overwhelmed and overworked, it'll be one of his only tells that he's fraying himself.

Eddie gifted Volt his copper bracelets as a way to ask him out and gifted a small set of rings to the homeowner as a symbol of his love for them too. I think he enjoys metal working even with the pain he feels in his hands and wrists from his arthritis, bending and twisting the copper into beautiful shapes. Some of the other objects noticed the rings on your fingers and now Eddie has a side hustle much to his chagrin (he enjoys it but some of the requests made are so ridiculous it makes him want to toss a bar of metal at em)

Again on the overprotectiveness, Eddie can be just as bad as Volt but instead of watching and waiting, Ed will book it from the Breaker Box to snatch you up and escort you back to your room. The vicious side eye he gives the offending dateable as he walks away with you tucked away in his arms is enough to drop the temperature in the room by 10 degrees (he and Hector have an agreement-)

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Both <3

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This is a more bit of a self serving hc, but I think Eddie has the better singing voice between the two while Volt is the dancer. Eddie's singing voice is a touch deeper than his speaking voice, that chest deep rumble translating to a gorgeous serenade that is reserved for you and Volt alone, despite begging him to perform for the club. Volt on the other hand is as graceful as a professional ballerina and just as flexible too, moving as swiftly as a bolt of lightning.

Volt, unfortunately, is just as tone deaf as Johnny Splash, causing him to feel a kindred connection to the poor shower which is why he's still allowed into the Breaker Box. Though Eddie has put his foot down slightly and limited Johnny's "performances" to 3-4 times a week.

Eddie has two left feet and can't dance even when putting in a proper effort; last time he tried he managed to trip himself up and smashed his head against one of the tables. The bar was closed for 2 days for him to recover physically and emotionally.

They've also taken to sponsoring Beverly's bar to help her get some more traffic from the upstairs inhabitants, and in turn she has taken to supplying drinks part time or even taking over the bar temporarily whenever Eddie is out of commission (ie strapped to their shared bed and forced to relax for the night)

Volt has taken up a bit of Eddie's workaholic nature now that he's being forced to relax, nearly pushing himself to exhaustion some nights and having to be forcefully dragged to bed like a grumpy toddler by you. The best way to keep either of them from trying to get up to open the bar is to lay on em, whether it be you or one another, the warmth and pressure keeps the complaints to a minimum and prevents them for working themselves to the wire.

Lastly I think they have decent friendships with all the objects that rely on their shared power, except Freddy (drains a lot of their power but he tries to make it up to them with snacks) and Lux (keeps turning himself and his lamps on at night to "enhance" his live streams, Eddie is contemplating unplugging all of them and locking em up in the Breaker Box storage closet). They tried to have a conversation with Lux about it but had to cut it short before either of them blew a fuse from anger, Eddie moreso than Volt.

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That's my brain rot for the night, I hope y'all enjoy it!

//DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR GENERATIVE AI I WILL THROW HANDS//

[svnscape]

epilogue: i hate u i love u

the whole house was quiet. jaemin’s snores were abnormally loud and even louder during summertime, even with the air-conditioning on, which meant haechan’s hopes of sleeping tonight were completely ruined.

summer vacation, before a whole new beginning for everyone, had just kickstarted but haechan couldn’t find the tiniest bit of joy to fully immerse himself into it, even if he was currently sleeping in a multimillionaire’s house, on a beyond comfortable mattress with the air conditioning on full blast.

he just couldn’t.

plus the fact that it was impossible for him to sleep off his thoughts, as jaemin’s snores grew even louder, made haechan groan and jump off the bed to head to another room.

chenle had given him full access to a ginormous room where haechan conveniently put all of his stuff in, in case he couldn’t sleep or wanted more peace.

even if he doesn’t act like it, chenle was very observant and caring towards all of his friends and recently, especially to haechan as he noticed the shifts in his behavior ever since all of them graduated.

he knew he was going through it, immensely, and the only way he could cheer him up was by shutting up and giving him the peace and quiet he needed sometimes.

so that is where haechan heads off to, his footsteps barely audible on this very shiny floor, as he made his way towards the end of the hall.

it was very quiet and smelled like expensive lavender, if that was even a thing.

he genuinely loved this room and its huge and bouncy duvet, as haechan spent most of his time here, listening to music and looking at your instagram account.

yes he was very much stalking you and he would rather die than have his friends find out about this new hyperfixation.

but tonight he had different plans as he finally eyes that small black and very worn out object sitting on top of his laptop.

mark’s usb.

i mean it was about time he finds out what’s in it and get it over with and he was obviously not enjoying this vacation, so whatever that usb holds, it had no hopes of ruining his already very monotonous and rotting summer.

so he sits down on the desk and plugs that usb in, without a second thought.

he just wanted it to be over.

but that usb had other plans as it took forever to load its files onto haechan’s computer, making him close his eyes and sigh in despair.

nothing about mark came on easy and it was genuinely making him loose his mind.

but then finally, the 3 files had loaded and haechan’s heartbeat spiked.

why the hell was he nervous?

he eyes them for a good ten minutes before he finally decided to open the first one, on the left of the screen, that was named “read first”

he clicks on it to find a small and simple untitled word file.

so he clicks again.

hey! it’s your markie. sorry you already know that. i’m nervous typing this out when you’re literally a hallway away from me. it’s 4am and you looked exhausted today so i’m guessing you’re sound asleep. i can’t sleep though.

anyways i’m sorry if this was corny or uncomfortable. i’m sure you’re wondering why the hell did i leave you a usb hahah. you probably called me old too, i know you very well hae.

but yeah, other than this file you’ll find two other ones, one named haechan and the other named tunes. open them both.

the haechan file has all the demos we recorded almost three years ago. yeah i kept them and i listened to them almost everyday. it also has demos i recorded later on and thought they’d only sound good with your voice in them. i don’t know if you’ll like them or even listen to them but please consider them as an apology. i would love for you to grace them with your voice haechan.

the tunes file has all of my unreleased songs. i’m still waiting for the approval of my label but there’s one song i’ve been waiting to release — i hate u i love u. i don’t care if my label says yes or no but i need your approval first. i’m sorry but it’s a song about you and it’ll mean the whole universe to me if you’d listen to it and tell me if i can release it, i won’t do it without your approval.

please let me know, please.

before you close this file, please let me say;

hae… i’m sorry for everything. i was scared because i felt myself feel too deeply about you and i had to choose between you, my career and another person who i’ve come to realize that i just ruined their time and made them believe in something that was never meant to go further. for some reason, i always loose my words when it comes to you but i think my song will explain it all: so again, please listen to it. i won’t release it unless you allow me to.

bye.

- mark minhyung lee

click here to listen to mark lee’s latest single — lyrics down below

Feeling used, but I'm still missing you

And I can't see the end of this

Just wanna feel your kiss

Against my lips

And now all this time

Is passing by

But I still can't seem to tell you why

It hurts me every time I see you

Realize how much I need you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to, but I can't put

Nobody else above you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

I miss you when I can't sleep

Or right after coffee

Or right when I can't eat

I miss you in my front seat

Still got sand in my sweaters

From nights we don't remember

Do you miss me like I miss you?

Fucked around and got attached to you

Friends can break your heart too, and

I'm always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn't like that shit

I put this reel out, but you wouldn't bite that shit

I type a text but then I nevermind that shit

I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

Oh oh, keep it on the low

You're still in love with me but your friends don't know

If u wanted me you would just say so

And if I were you, I would never let me go

I don't mean no harm

I just miss you on my arm

Wedding bells were just alarms

Caution tape around my heart

You ever wonder what we could have been?

You said you wouldn't and you fucking did

Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix

Now all my drinks and all my feelings are all fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn't be missing

Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance

I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing

But I learned from my dad that it's good to have feelings

When love and trust are gone

I guess this is moving on

Everyone I do right does me wrong

So every lonely night, I sing this song

I hate you I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to, but I can't put

Nobody else above you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

All alone I watch you watch her

Like she's the only girl you've ever seen

You don't care you never did

You don't give a damn about me

Yeah all alone I watch you watch her

She's the only thing you've ever seen

How is it you never notice

That you are slowly killing me

I hate you I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to, but I can't put

Nobody else above you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

coming soon, in september: i hate u? i love u? season two — don’t

new scene, new people and old appearances. will your relationship with haechan hold strong or will you both go back to old habits? don’t get tempted.

prev — m.list

taglist: @bbykaixx @alwayswonbinning @weepingsweep @dudekiss3r @kukkurookkoo @hoeingthefuckup @gomdoleemyson @haeclips @luvvhaechan @hsified @heegyuwrld @lubunnii @firydst @daengiez @nahyuckers @httpsxnox @n0hyuck @hi00000234567 @scoobysnackszoo @minkyuncutie @yuthabitz @haechology @neogotmysam @sanniekook @kisseokiss @nqyzhuo @kooookie @lovenha7 @andassortedkpop @jising-jisang-jisung @markleesleftpinky @ourbeautifulaffair @dilflover44 @nctdreamchaser @leehaechie @nosungluv

a/n: and it’s overrrr

yes this smau was inspired by the song — i hate u, i love u

i was obsessed with this song when i was younger lmao.

anyways. thank you so much guys! seriously!!! you’ve made my experience of posting my first smau on tumblr so good and fun i will never thank you enough.

i’m still gonna spend more time focusing on this story and universe so please interact and come to my asks with anything you’d like to say. i’d be beyond happy answering you.

also it’ll make me very happy if you guys would tune in for my next series which i’ve already spoiled the title of (reflections). more infos about it will be posted soon hehehe.

again, thank you and i love you all!!!

see you soon for the second season.

mwah!!!!

— ruby.

[l4wsrule]

𖥔┆ misfortunate departure .

⤷ oneshot; shanks × reader : failed romance .

t͟a͟g͟s͟: shanks, red hair pirates reader, angst, romance, sfw.

Romance.

Or relationships, as they call it.

Are they really worth it?

Beckman used to say, or rather insist, that it was a bad, bad idea. Written in bold and possibly every existing font, and underlined twice. He said; "We're a pirate crew, not a soap opera."

And while the rest of the crew mostly agreed. Obviously, your red-haired captain stood firm against that. Arguing with Shanks felt like throwing a cup of water at a burning house.

It was pointless.

His love for you knew no bounds, his morals as a fierce pirate and a threat as an emperor to quite literally any naval base, crumbled entirely. With that stupid, corny smile of his that just came naturally. A smile that yelled "I'd have the sea swallow everyone whole and bring the One Piece itself to your hands in the blink of an eye."

It started off strong. It always does. Romantic, cheesy, always sticking to eachother like someone had forcibly handcuffed you together, except you did it willingly.

The quiet stares from the crew when you ate together. The first time you held hands, the feeling of his warm, calloused hand interlocking with yours in an ever so gentle hold. The loud whistles and cheers at the sight of your first kiss, with some in the background talking about losing a bet ;

"Called it! I gave it two more days max." Lucky roux laughed, slapping Yasopp lightheartedly on the back in a comforting gesture at his loss.

And so on.

And from there, it slowly escalates, into more problems, more disagreements. More "I'm too emotionally attached to not risk my life for you." type of stuff. Into, "We shouldn't have done this, we're pirates," and a bit of "This is getting risky."

You didn't want that. Neither of you wanted that. You loved him, he loved you. Certainely.

Not to the point of recklessly letting your emotions win and giving your lives away.

But you. Oh, you sure recalled. All those sweet moments, your mind sending you what seemed like an unlimited amount of very much unwanted flashbacks as you sat in your previously shared cabin. Hands on your temples like you were massaging the anger, the sorrow and the hurt out of your head forcibly. It wasn't working.

Wondering, how did you go from smiling to yourself and giggling into the pillow like a lovestruck teenager as your mind wandered to him, whenever you thought he wasn't looking.

How did you go from watching him, from a comfortable distance. Observing. Admiring. The way he talked about you to the crewmates like no other. When you thought he wasn't watching. But he was. He always was. And perhaps you knew, yet pretended not to, just to listen to him a bit longer. Paid attention to how he spoke of the smallest details about you that even you thought you didn't know, or never seemed to notice. Like you're more valuable than the One Piece itself. Which, to him, you are.

Or you were.

..Or so you thought?

You couldn't tell, at this point. Because what you had, was long over.

How long has it been now?

A few days? A week. Maybe two.

You lost count after a while. The only times you stopped reminiscing what you two had, was to run a few errands for the crew. Maybe a fight here and there. Taking care of some rookie who was brave enough to challenge Shanks himself. Perhaps an occasional mission.

What appeared to be a distant memory of you two now, you felt it. Deep inside, you could still feel it. Even now. Every inch of you felt it. Like a ghost's breath, his touch was still somehow there. Lingering. Soothing. Sometimes cold, sometimes burning hot from your shared intimacy.

Your head spiraled. You could barely focus on missions and whatever else. The clock on your wall ticking over your head like a countdown. A constant warning. The sound seemingly getting louder and louder, ringing in your ears.

A warning for you to get back to yourself, an independant pirate who never depended on anyone's measly feelings to function properly. Well, maybe that's pushing it a bit far. But Shanks definitely changed your perspectives and views of certain things. Some of your resolve completely shattered around him. And the worst part? You liked it. You loved it. You couldn't help but absolutely adore that goddamned red haired imbecile with the sweetest soul, the most heartwarming, calm voice and the kindest smile you'll ever see.

But that was it for you. Snapping out of those thoughts, one cold night at the Red Force. You made your way out of your cabin, carrying a bag over your shoulder as you took quiet, deliberate steps towards the railing. The moon hanging low, casting a spell on the calm tides of the sea, which was glittering like it was trying to mimick the dark, starry night sky underneath your gaze. A calming view, contrasting sharply with the wild storm spiraling inside your mind.

You thought you were quiet and slick. Though, amidst your heavy thinking, you seem to have forgotten one important detail ;

Shanks notices every thing.

Every move, every step, the subtle creaking of the wooden floorboards under your boots. The sound of the bag slouching over your shoulder.

Just as you were about to jump over and disembark. You, so unfortunately, felt a strong, oh so familiar grip on your wrist. It was strong, but not exactly there. Enough to hold you back, never sufficient to inflict any other feeling on you.

Great, just the guy you weren't trying to meet on your way here.

"Hm? Where to?"

He asked, quietly. Adding nothing else. A simple, firm question. Like he's asking you to confess your sins. And there it was. A voice you thought you haven't heard in decades. Deep, smooth, not overly gruff. It almost got on your nerves. How infuriatingly calm he always was, no matter the situation.

"..I'm off to clear my head, maybe a day or two.. maybe more." You sighed out. Brows furrowing ever so slightly as your eyes averted in the opposite direction of his.

And with that, his hand slipped away, freeing your wrist of his grip. He turned around, cape flaring behind him. Waving his hand dismissively.

His steps came to a sudden stop, taking a moment to glance at you over his shoulder, the scar on his eye diminishing under the dim lighting. A small glint in his eyes, a doubtful, regretting one as he spoke again ;

"..Come back safe, Y/N. We always need you here." In the most calm, collected, and gentle tone ever. Emphasis on the "we", like he was afraid to say he was the most worried specifically. But he couldn't hold you back, seeing the state you put yourself in after the break off.

Without another word, he left into the dark shadows of the upper deck, probably to the hammock he'd normally use.

Which was fine by you. Though a tinge of something you couldn't quite pinpoint, stirring in your chest. A familiar warmth, one you promptly ignored as you hopped off the ship, onto your dinghy.

And off it went. The slight frequency of the wind, along with the waves lapping gently against it, sailing it forward. Your mind wandered for a while longer, before drifting off to sleep.

Back where you left Shanks, he laid sleeplessly on the hammock, gazing up at the dimly moon lit sky, hand under his head, propping it like a pillow. His shirt half open, leg crossed over the other as the gentle wind swept through his shiny red hair. Thinking. Ever so deep in thought. Thinking about how you actively avoided his gaze in your earlier interaction. To how you were never like that with him. He's not the type of guy to move on from something like a break up so easily. No, never. He just never spoke of it much. But so did you, really.

His silence was soon to be interrupted, by the sound of a flick.

"You just let her leave like that?" A gruff, low voice spoke out, it was as if he appeared from nowhere, like a threat. It was Beckman.

Flicking the lighter, — click — ,and the flame on the cigarette— resting lazily on his lips as they curled around it— came to life.

"She'll come back. It's not like she's leaving forever." The red hair glanced at his wingman from the side of his eye.

"That's not my point." Benn exhaled, a puff of smoke emitting from his lips as he continued; "You know why she left, and you didn't speak a word."

"Women need time, Beckman, if I tried to talk her out of it, she'd just do it even faster to spite me." Shanks reassured, a small, involuntary smile tucking at the sides of his lips at the thought of you. How fierce and feisty you were. One of the most prominent things about you.

The silver haired individual was quiet. Convinced by the other's argument, but more like, not bothering much with Shanks. After all, he knew you much better.

"..Told you it would be no good." He sighed out, to which the captain quickly responded to, with a full on smile plastered on his complexion now ;

"It was worth the shot though, wasn't it?" Shanks grinned.

"..I guess it was. Couldn't have convinced you out of it back then anyway." Benn replied in surrender.

"I'll make it work again."

"You're not trying that again."

"Oh, I sure am."

Beckman rubbed his temples, rubbing a hand across his face like he was helplessly watching the world crumble right infront of him, like he wasn't just giving up on Shanks, but life itself. Or maybe life was giving up on him. An indistinguishable groan emitting from the back of his throat.

That idiot.

With the break of day, you emerged from sleep, eyes slowly blinking open to the sight of the bright sunlight ahead of you, straining your vision.

You stood upright, rubbing your eyes with a low, groggy groan. Or so you tried. Until you noticed your hands were restrained.

You didn't exactly wake up, it was more like something startled you out of your slumbers' dreams. A quick shake. A loud noise, too loud for such an early time in the morning. When the realization set in, your eyes fully widened in alert, looking at your surroundings in a daze.

Distant sounds could be heard, a few men speaking, waves lapping against the hull of a ship.. a hull.. of a ship?

You were no longer in your dinghy.

Keeping your composure, you analyzed your surroundings, for any sign of an exit, an escape route. It was a navy ship.

"Fuck, how did I not notice." You complained under your breath, looking back at the shackles holding you to the ground. Feeling the slightest bit lightheaded. "Did they drug me?"

"I don't have time to think about that now, I have to —"

"Have to what?" Mid breaking the shackles off, a sword at your throat held you back, one of the marine officers was standing right infront of you, ever so menacingly. "I don't know how one of the red hair pirates was slacking off for us to take so easily, but we sure weren't gonna let the opportunity slip between our fingers."

"You— Opportunity to do what ??" You growled, brows furrowing in a mix of anger, and.. admission? You admitted to yourself that you'd never get caught off guard so easily, never this easily. Things were really taking a toll on you, hm.

"Why, to use you as bait for that absolute menace of a pirate."

"Don't speak of him like that."

He tightened his grip on the sword at a few degrees.

"Aw, hit a weak spot, hm?" The marine chuckled, like he was enjoying getting on your nerves. And guess what, he was.

"You're really brave if you think you'll even stand a chance." You rolled your eyes, ignoring his previous comment.

"I'm sure he'll do what it takes to get you back in one piece." He spoke ominously, sword pressing a little harder against your throat, like a pending warning.

Within the deck of the Red Force, it has been days now. About four days. No sign of you.

"She said a day or two.." Shanks mumbled to himself, a tankard of rum in hand, staring out at the vast, peaceful horizon ahead of him.

"She said maybe more, Shanks." Beckman added reassuringly, like some kind of guardin angel. Always calm, always collected. Never panicked. Never thinking the worst.

The red hair turned around, leaning casually against the railing, his one elbow propping him to it.

"..Yeah." He sighed out, a small smile tucking at the corners of his mouth. "She'll come back anytime."

"Stop thinking about her so much, you lovestruck fool."

"It's true love, Beckman!"

"You're so far gone."

"I'm right where I want to be."

The interaction was soon to be cut off, by a familiar panicked voice;

"Captain, captain — !!" Lucky roux yelled out, running to Shanks like his life would end if he ran any slower. A meat skewer dangling off the side of his mouth, muffling his words, along with a newspaper in hand.

Now standing infront of Shanks, the rotund pirate took a moment to catch his breath, handing the newspaper to his captain with a slightly shaky hand. "It's her — !!"

Shanks raised an eyebrow curiously, head mildly tilted in intrigue, with that same laid back smirk he always wore, a hand raised in surprise.

"Calm down, Roux— who's.." He trailed off, taking the press from his hands, his previous smirk immediately faltering, as though he'd crossed a bridge between life and death itself. You were on the front cover, name written in bold like an alert. "..Captured." He finished.

Beckman, who was still standing beside him, sighed. Crushing his cigarette on the railing nearby, then taking the paper from his hands and reading through it carefully.

"Don't do anything reckless, Shanks. She's fine, we need a strategy."

"It's been days, Beckman, her life is on the line."

From the lower deck, Gab voiced ; "How did she get caught of all people, anyway ?!"

Shanks gathered the crew around, an unyielding expression plastered on his face. A look that could make anyone's knees buckle with just a glare.

"It doesn't matter how she ended up there, we'll find her." The red hair spoke firmly. His voice cold, gruff, leaving no room for argument.

Beckman sighed, though cracking a faint smirk at his captain's never changing determination. He could be an idiot, but Benn would follow him through hell and back.

Shanks raised his hand, where your vivre card was pointing. "Everyone, heading north now !"

The rest, on the other hand, roared fiercly in agreement. Yasopp turning the helm and sailing forward with all the speed the Red Force had to offer.

An adventure, a rollercoaster, certainely awaited.

It seemed like you were aboard that damned navy ship forever. They barely even fed you, purely on purpose. Your means of escaping were all blocked, haki significantly weakened.

Great, just what you needed. Piling up on everything happening, just the thought of everyone finding out you got kidnapped by some measly marine group, made you want to throw yourself overboard and land somewhere hot, and preferably die in a way no one would hear of you again.

But you knew they would hear, and you most certainely knew he'd come to your rescue anytime now. And you hated it, you hated being treated like some damsel in distress, but that smiling ginger idiot would do it anyway.

And so you waited, a sense of impending doom heavy on your chest. You slipped in and out of consciousness, almost forgetting there was this annoying marine guy pestering you all freaking day.

"Listen, if you're gonna be over my head yelling at me for some.. secret information from the crew or whatever, I might aswell start asking you to kill me soon." You sighed out, not even giving him the luxury of facing him.

"You're real cocky for an unarmed weakling in shackles." He teased, holding your chin up towards him with the dull side of his sword.

"And you're pretty full of yourself for threatning an.. unarmed weakling in shackles, as you say. Give me that attitude again once I'm out of here." You snapped back, calmly, firmly, giving him a bored look.

"You —"

He didn't have the chance to finish whatever he was saying, the words catching in his throat as the rest of the marines onboard yelled out, alerting ;

"Raid alert !!!! I repeat ; Raid alert, The red hair pirates are here !!!" One blurted out in panic, watching the others passed out one by one like bug sprayed flies.

There it goes.

The sentence you'd been anticipating. It was.. very much predictable. And that unmistakable haki of his.

Looking ahead, you saw him. Jumping from the deck of the Red Force into marines' vessel. That same grin plastered on his face like someone drew it on with permanent marker. He looked like he was walking into a birthday party, not invading a navy ship.

"What happened to coming back in a day or two?" Shanks chuckled, now kneeled beside you, breaking the shackles and freeing you.

"..I said I would be back, I didn't need you to interfere again." You avoided his gaze, again.

He lended you a supporting hand to stand up.

You didn't even look at it, standing up by yourself, but you quickly stumbled, holding onto the nearest thing beside you. Him.

"Hey, careful now, wouldn't want you hurting yourself." The red hair cooed, draping his arm over your side and pulling you against him, supporting your weight. You didn't protest, holding onto him aswell, barely conscious.

"I'm.. perfectly.. fine." You muttered out, almost to yourself than to him, before you allowed yourself to sleep it off, now that you knew you were safe. In his arms. In a way you absolutely despised. Yet loved at the same time.

And you woke up.

Again.

But this time, in a familiar place. The scent of your beloved cabin filling your nostrils, eyes squinted. A candle hung on your wall, spilling a dim, warm light onto the room. You didn't pay attention to how your previously dirty clothes were changed into a clean, fresh set.

And there he was. Because of course he was.

Sitting beside your bed, laid back on a chair ever so nonchalantly, like it was completely normal to watch your ex sleeping. Just another normal tuesday night.

You sat up abruptly, your bed-hair tousled from sleep, your calm, tired expression soon sharpening.

"What are you doing here ?!"

"..Uh, watching over you?" Shanks admitted sheepishly.

"Do I look like a dying victorian child?"

He held back a small laugh. "I wouldn't say that. Just thought you'd want company when you woke up, after what happened."

"Well, thanks, I'm perfectly fine by myself. You can go now."

"I think I'm good, I'll stay."

Silence.

..And more silence.

If you waited a bit longer, you'd hear crickets chirping in your ear.

He didn't leave, didn't even budge. Didn't even think or consider leaving.

And then a sigh came out of him. You were still actively avoiding his gaze like the plague.

"Listen.. Y/N. We can't keep running from this."

"From what?"

"From this conversation. From this.. whole thing going on."

"There's nothing going on, I thought it was clear that we're over."

"We're not —"

You suddenly interrupted him, raising your voice by just an octave.

"We are, Shanks. You know, I.. we both know it's just not gonna work, and you just proved my point."

He raised his hand in a surrendering gesture ; "I don't recall proving anything." He smirked.

You rubbed a hand over your face. You hated how aloof and casual he was, even now.

"You came to save me, that's also a risk."

"Come on, that doesn't count. They were just rookies."

"Well, what if they weren't ?! What if it was another emperor crew, or, or— an admiral, hell, I don't know, any high ranking figure." You stuttered, stumbling over your own words, still looking around everywhere but him.

You were scared, even if you wouldn't admit it, you were scared that just looking at him would break your entire resolve again; the one you spent weeks rebuilding. Because it would absolutely break again. It was still fragile as glass.

And when you didn't expect it, Shanks reached out comfortably, his warm hand resting under your chin, tilting your head ever so gently, not wanting to rattle you.

His earlier sheepish, cheeky grin, had disappeared. His expression softened into a warm smile. One you were too acquianted with.

"I'd fight them, too. Without hesitation. I'd fight the gods themselves for you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." The red hair spoke, his hair falling over his face just right, the dim light highlighting his sharp features and sun-tanned skin. Eyes lighting up and glinting lovingly at the sight of you.

It was unmistakable.

That look of love.

You knew he still loved you.

He knew you still loved him.

But that was exactly the problem.

Your lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but for a moment, nothing came out, until you gathered your thoughts, not wanting to say something stupid.

"That's.. that's exactly it, Shanks.. I don't want that. I don't want you to risk your life for me. I don't want you to get attached. I want you to live freely, as my captain." You muttered out, voice slightly shaky with unspoken feelings. You said what you had to. Not what you wanted to.

His hand trailed from your chin, to the side of your jaw, your cheek, then to the bangs on your face, gently pushing them behind your ear, soothing your hair back.

You didn't protest, at all. You didn't want to. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you did. You haven't felt his touch in what seemed like decades. Sending a warm, loving feeling to your chest.

And then, unexpectedly, he leaned in and whispered an ever so tender against your lips. Feather light, like he was afraid to scare you away. Yet passionate.

Silence reigned over the moment, until he reluctantly pulled away, looking at you with heavy lidded, loving eyes, his fingers never leaving your hair in the moment.

"If you think that'll get me to stop loving you, you ought to try harder, my dear." Shanks murmured in a deep, smooth voice. Barely above a whisper.

All you could do was stare at him, eyes wide in surprise, your ears warming up. A faint blush dusting your cheeks. Heart fluttering in your chest. You couldn't even think of anything to say.

"I'm not getting scared off. As a pirate, my life is always on the line. It's what we sign up for, isn't it." He trailed off, then continued;

"And as your captain, I order you to let me love you, hm?" Shanks cooed, the most soft spoken command. And possibly the best one you'd ever gotten to hear from him.

Maybe your resolve wasn't that important now. All you wanted right now, in this moment, was to pull him back in for a kiss you've been holding back for ever so long.

And that's exactly what you did.

Even he was slightly thrown off guard, but quickly melted into it. Fingers wandering to the back of your head, tangling in your hair and deepening the kiss, your arms hooked onto his neck like an anchor.

You leaned away, again. Letting your lips linger for a moment longer. You weren't avoiding his gaze anymore. You couldn't afford to. Like you were scared he'd disappear the moment you looked away.

"Guess we could've avoided all the hassle if we had this talk from the beginning, eh?" He chuckled in a low, lighthearted tone.

"..I wish you'd stop speaking sometimes."

"Ouch. Hurts my feelings." Shanks joked dramatically, putting a hand over his chest in mock pain.

"Stay that way."

From behind the door, you heard a loud crash, like someone fell. A specific someone, big enough to cause such a noise.

Then his voice blurted out ; "Move, I can't hear anything !!"

"Not my fault you're blocking the whole doorway!!" Yasopp's voice echoed right after his, before the door swung open from the weight of both of them leaning against it.

Beckman sighed, from a distance. But you could definitely hear it. If there was a bounty up for the most disappointed, and done man ever. He'd long have surpassed Roger, the king of the pirates himself.

"I told you that wouldn't end well." He sppke firmly.

Shanks only chuckled at the sight of them, while you just facepalmed, groaning into your hands like you'd wanted the earth to swallow you whole. Seeing that, Shanks shot them a singular glare, without another word. Didn't need words.

With that, they closed the door behind and left the room, running.

"..So I guess this makes us—"

"I love you too." You cut him off.

"..What am I supposed to say to that?" Shanks chuckled.

"I hate when you say it first because you keep repeating that you love me more even when I give up."

"Fair."

You stayed quiet for a moment, before reaching your hand towards his, locking your fingers together.. for the first time in weeks, aswell.

"You could.. always say it back."

The red hair gave you a cheeky smile, one that quickly warmed up as he squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your palm.

"Always love you more, Y/N."

Thus, the endless conflict ended. It wasn't such a failed romance after all. All you needed was a thorough talk, and maybe a bit of reassurance. Shanks would've gotten his way either way, because of course he would. He's Shanks. Unbeatable, undebatable, always got a solution for everything. But it's one of the things you liked most about that imbecile. A very loving imbecile.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

[xomintybreezexo]

Damian and Jon's Favorite Christmas

(quick question before we get into it, is there a ship name for Dami and Ellie and Ellie and Jon? Cause I know Dami and Jon's ship name is supersons, but what would all three of them be?)

Danny hates Christmas, there's a whole episode in canon about it, but if we're talking about Danny viewing Ellie as his daughter and Ellie viewing Danny as her father, then I feel like not enough people are acknowledging that he would do anything to make her love Christmas, or at least not hate it like he does.

Ellie, for a while, didn't know why Danny hated Christmas so much; she has no knowledge of his life and life experiences unless she's told about them, so this makes sense. After finding out that Danny hated Christmas, by watching his behavior on the days leading up to it, she, like any child, started to imitate his attitude towards it, complaining about the lights and music even when she didn't know why she hated it so much.

Danny recognized this pattern instantly, and he's horrified. He, very quickly, becomes bound and determined to make sure she has great Christmas experiences, even if that means keeping her away from his parents on the day of.

After learning that he was the ghost boy Phantom, his parents, being accepting of him, thank goodness, have become more focused on observing and actually researching ghosts than trying to capture and experiment on them. Telling them about Ellie and how she came to be was nerve-wracking.

(What if they didn't believe that Vlad cloned their kid to try to make the perfect son, and probably most likely take over the world? What if they were convinced she was evil and tricking him, and playing the long con? What would he do then?)

Thankfully, they were fully accepting of her and fully horrified by Vlad, so they started putting massive distance between themselves and him.

Danny doesn't like dredging up the specifics of why he hates the Christmas holiday, but it doesn't matter because this is going to be the best first Christmas of Ellie's not-quite-living life! He, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were going to make sure of it. But that plan started and ended out of Amity. As much as he loves his parents and knows they're trying to do better, they couldn't even wait until Christmas Eve to start the arguments and fights about all Christmas-related matters, so Sam bought the four of them, the trio and Ellie, a hotel stay for winter break, 2 full weeks off school that they can spend in Gotham City, New Jersey! He's so going to kill it at this parenting thing! Even Jazz agrees that, for his circumstances (whatever that means), he's doing amazing!

Damian was only mildly appeased because Jon was here. Father and Kent decided it would be good to get out of the house and go out together as a family, which somehow translated to them being at a mall right after opening, when there were the fewest people around, and Batman and the rest of the bats and birds weren't active and mostly unneeded. And, look, it's not that he hates the holidays; he just doesn't understand them beyond familial connection.

(which he still doesn't fully understand, no matter how many ways Father and Pennyworth attempt to explain it to him)

He's long since begun to ignore his family and the Kents, instead pouring his attention into Jon and their surroundings for potential hostiles. A Wayne can never be too careful, especially not in broad daylight.

Instead, all he finds is a cheerful girl his age, maybe a year or two younger (Damian and Jon are thirteen in this, Ellie is twelve like in the show) with three older teens, one of whom must be her older brother; they look strikingly similar. His observing(he is not staring creepily, thank you very much) catches Jon's attention, and the other boy leans over his shoulder to see who it is.

"Whoa...She looks really pretty..." Jon is whispering, probably trying to circumvent his father's less-than-convenient, in this moment at least, super hearing. And Damian does have to agree. She could be considered conventionally attractive. Long, matte black hair in a low ponytail, strikingly bright purple eyes that almost seem to glow, pale skin with rosy cheeks and a wide grin, letting her sharp teeth and elongated canines show, moving her hair to one side and revealing longer, pointed ears. Such things are not typically found in nature, and his first assumption, and the most likely to be correct, is that she's a meta-human, like Duke.

But he doesn't get a chance to ponder that further before she opens her mouth, takes a deep breath, and begins to sing along to the music the mall is playing.

"Santa, tell me if you're really there~ don't make me fall in love again if he won't be next year~"

If he were paying any mind to those she's with, he would have noticed the dark skinned boy with locs falling into his face from under his red beret and the goth girl with black lipstick and purple highlights walking away at the same time. The boy headed to the food court with the girl's card and a reminder to 'not go crazy,' and the girl, giving the other boy he's taken to calling adoption bait(A.B. for short) in his head, a quick peck on the cheek, to a store that famously uses vegan leather.

"Santa, tell me if he really cares~ 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year~"

A.B. smiles softly and a little sadly at his younger sister before leaning against the wall behind him, waiting for the other two to return, no doubt. Jon grabs his arm and begins to pull him their direction, somehow without either of their families taking notice.

"Let's go talk to her!" What. Damian Wayne doesn't do talking. What are they even supposed to say?! 'Hey there, random stranger, the two of us who have only been officially dating for about 3 months at this point really like your style, wanna be our third?' She'd think they're crazy!

...Then again, her older brother could be dating those other two teenagers they were with.

Jon doesn't hesitate to join in on the song, either. The girl seems to know the lyrics by heart, so he had to guess it's a favorite of hers.

Good to know.

"Feeling Christmas all around and I'm trying to play it cool~ But it's hard to focus when I see him-" Jon nudges his arm with that stupid, pretty grin on his stupid pretty face, "-Walkin' 'cross the room~"

She turns to them and grins brightly, singing louder now that they are joining in, swaying to the music.

"'Let it Snow' is blasting out, but I won't get in the mood~ I'm avoiding every mistletoe until I know it's true love that he thinks of~" She moves closer to them and is standing on Damian's right, with Jon on his left. They both nudge him, probably wanting him to join the song. He sighs heavily, like it's an annoyance for him, but decides that he will, to impress this girl and ease her into their relationship, hopefully.

Birds sing to attract mates, after all. He doesn't see how this is any different.

"So next Christmas I'm not all alone, boy~" Jon grabs his hand, and the girl leans in closer, her eyes shining with curiosity. Yes, he would sing if it meant she would stay by their sides for even a moment longer. "Santa, tell me if you're really there~ Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year~" Damian hears gasps from behind them, no doubt his siblings and the Kents marvelling at his singing voice. He's only ever sung himself to sleep before, with lullabies he remembers Mother singing to him on worse nights. His voice is soft and melodious, and he's well aware.

"Santa, tell me if he really cares~ 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year~" Is this why the film industry is so obsessed with 'Christmas romances'? Jon taught him what love, romantic and platonic love, felt like, but this felt different somehow. Was it because he was here with two people he loved romantically and platonically? He felt like his world had narrowed down to Jon and this new potential partner of theirs, not taking notice of anything else but their bright smiles that made a small one of his own crack on his face.

Even if the girl(he should really ask her name) didn't want to join their relationship, surely they could remain friends, yes?

"I've been down this road before, fell in love on Christmas night~ (ooh, babe)~ But on New Year's Day, I woke up and he wasn't by my side~" Love was a truly strange and wonderous thing, he didn't think it would ever be something he'd experience, believing it to be another weakness to overcome. He never believed what different media and even his own family said about it being one of the most empowering forces to experience, at least, not until he met Jon, and now, after meeting her.

"Now I need someone to hold-" The girl grabbed his arm gently and leaned her head on his shoulder. Another round of gasps broke out when she wasn't immediately shoved away. A sly grin cut her cheeks, and the warmth on his face increased from the sight of it. Jon was still holding his hand, he realized after flexing his fingers. "-Be my fire in the cold~ (yeah, yeah)~"

He finally looked away from the two of them and over at their families. Most of them had their phones out, recording, most likely. He made sure to put on his nastiest scowl, but it was broken when the girl followed his gaze and gave them that same toothy smile. Brown literally squealed with delight, and Grayson looked like he was vibrating in place. West, whom he hadn't realized was here, actually was vibrating in place, with Kori'ander looking immensely pleased. He didn't want to even look at Father or Kent, or Lane for that matter.

"But it's hard to tell if this is just a fling or if it's true love that he thinks of~ (of)~" Even though a part of him wishes to stop singing, mostly to spite Drake and Todd, who look smug and amused, he was having a nice moment and refused to allow them to ruin it. "So next Christmas I'm not all alone, babe~"

This was shaping up to be a good day, if he ignored his meddling family.

"Santa, tell me if you're really there~" He looked to where he hoped the girl's brother still was and found him watching, still leaning against the wall, with a fond smile on his face. They locked eyes for a moment, and his smile grew slightly as he nodded in acknowledgement. "Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year~"

He wondered if he could convince the girl to follow them along on their shopping trip...And if he could find a mistletoe to stand under with her.

"Santa, tell me if he really cares~" Maybe he should write poetry for her? Like he did with Jon? Or create art for her? Like he did with Jon? "'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year~" But would she like any of that? Maybe he should take to learning an instrument?

She pulled away from them, and he tried to squash his upset, Jon very clearly feeling the same way, if the small frown was indicative. She, instead of leaving, stood in front of them with her hands on her hips and a determined smile.

"Hi! I'm Ellie! I wanted to ask you guys your names, cause I can't keep calling you 'scowley' and 'smiley' in my head." She said it like it was the most relatable thing ever, and maybe it was, how would Damian know one way or the other?

"Damian." He was curt but polite, bowing his head slightly. He left the last name out on purpose. She didn't seem to recognize him, as far as he could tell, and he didn't want to jeopardize their most definitely budding relationship with his status. Status he, typically, flashed in people's faces, specifically so they would leave him alone. "And this is Jon." "Hi, Ellie!" Jon was as excitable as always. Another rare, non sadistic smile from Damian as he watched his girl interact with their potential girlfriend.

"I'm glad you finally told us your name! I also wanted to ask cause I couldn't keep calling you 'pretty girl' in my head!" Ah, apparently it was relatable. Damian, 0, everyone else, 1. Somehow, he's not too upset with that. Not everyone can be Robin, after all.

"Hi there!" Ugh.

Grayson didn't hesitate to lean over him with his signature dumb grin plastered all over his face. Ellie looked up at him curiously. "Damian's big brother here! It's so nice to meet you, Ellie! Where are your parents?" Grayson asked, looking around for anyone who looked like they could fit the bill.

"Right here." Adoption bait said with a polite smile. Ellie grinned up at him, and Damian felt the world stop, figuratively, of course. What is that supposed to mean? How can he be her father when he looks 15? He looks barely three years older than the person he's claiming to be his daughter, and isn't that some concerning imagery?

"You're her father?" That was Drake. He didn't need to see it to know that everyone was looking concerned.

"He's my momma, actually!" Ellie said it with a bright smile, like it wasn't even more concerning. Suddenly, the deep eye bags and almost anemic-looking skin made more sense if he was raising a kid.

"Hi. I'm Danny." He gave a bright smile and a slight wave.

"You're her mother...?" Todd, and he didn't need to see it to know his eyes were turning green. Honestly, he could understand; he was also feeling a little murderous at the thought of a child being forced to take care of another child.

Danny shrugged, like it was no big deal. "I mean, technically." He locked eyes with Ellie as he said it. She nodded sagely. "Cloning can be weird sometimes." He felt the world restart again.

"You're a clone?" Jon asked it, tilting his head like a puppy. Ellie nodded, a bit uncomfortable. Jon grinned widely, gesturing to Conner. "So, is my older brother!" She grinned back.

Ellie, Jon, and Him got to talking all about their interests while her mom/brother/template was being subletely interrogated by Lois Lane and Father. He was happy to learn about Ellie's love of space, travel, and animals.

He thought she was perfect for them, and he was certain Jon agreed. He looked awestruck. She talked about her love of glazed donuts and toasted bagels with strawberry cream cheese. She even mentioned how much she loved her grandma's, her template's mother's, homemade fudge. She went on about how she was learning from her 'Auntie Sam' how to do makeup, even outside of the other girl's traditional goth style. How she was learning to code from her 'Uncle Tucker' and how cool it was to learn to hack into people's stuff. She was simply radiant. And she literally glowed when Damian told her that.

I don't know if i'll add anything else to this, maybe like Sam and Tucker's reactions to Ellie and Danny somehow getting to know the Wayne and Kent families in the 30ish minutes to 1 hour they were gone lol but maybe also how they keep in touch are how they react to Phantom and Phasma and maybe Nightsahde(Sam) and Pharaoh(Tucker) I would love to see what you guys add tho

[deeokanee]

It's been a week or so after their fight (see part one for more explanation), and Bob and John still aren't talking. They aren't straight up ignoring each other, because they don't want to alarm the rest of the team, but all they say to each other are a couple of words of courtesy whenever it's strictly necessary to communicate with the other man.

On Bob's part, he's hurting. He is a little, well a lot actually, disappointed in John for shutting him out. He's mad that the other wouldn't have even told him the reason for his behaviour, hadn't he confronted him. He's pissed off that John didn't actually tell him shit, it was Bob himself that guessed what was wrong, and he guessed right, since John didn't correct him when he finally spat out the concern that had been eating him alive in the days before their argument.

Secondly, he's embarrassed as hell for revealing his carefully concealed crush on John to John, all because he was overcome with anger. He feels so stupid, catching feelings for one of the people he'd grown more attached to in years, his first male friend since God knows when and he fucked it up because he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about John.

Buried deep under these already stinging feelings, the thing Bob regrets more is that no matter how many times he had told himself that "John isn't into men" and "John will never look at me that way", despite his attempts to behave as rationally as possible about this whole situation, still a small, stupid part of him had hoped. That maybe it wasn't just a fantasy, maybe John could love him.

That's what he's ashamed of, that's what is making him avoid even looking at John whenever they unintentionally find themselves in the same room. That despite knowing better, he still couldn't control himself. That's why, despite being hurt, he still feels guilty of what happens, and more than anger now that things have quieted down, it's shame that makes him avoid John's eyes.

On John's part, he is emotionally paralyzed. The words Bob had blurted out in his face the day of their last real conversation have been echoing in his head since he heard them the first time.

"You've been a big fucking asshole to me for weeks"

Days he had spent digging his nails into his tights whenever he had found himself observing him, staring at Bob. Weeks he had spent punching every hard surface he was closer to, whenever he had caught himself wondering about Bob.

The images of the other man were burned into his mind. His usual sheepish smiles, his occasional snarky grins, the way his eyes narrowed with those expressions. His dark, wavy and unruly hair being always all over the place. His gestures, the way his hands revealed so much about how he was feeling. Picking at each other's skin when he was nervous, making wide movements in the air when he was excited.

He didn't only keep memories of Bob in his mind. He hadn't only remembered about his eyes, his hair his hands, his lips. But he had imagined. And the way, the ways he had done that had made him feel filthy. Not only because Bob was a man, even if the situations featuring the both of them he had sometimes indulged in picturing in his head, had sent shivers of both arousal and panic down his spine.

But because he had felt perverted, painting sinful images about his friend without him knowing. He had felt predatory, and it had never happened in his life before. He had always been a protective person, looking out for the people he loves. He thought his affection for Bob was nothing different from that. But it had turned out he was a creep, taking advantage of their closeness to feed whatever weird wave of lust had overcome him.

And while he was battling with this hell only he had created, he hadn't paid attention to what that was doing to Bob. He wouldn't even have guessed he had noticed his behaviour shifting so drastically, and only now he's realised how stupid of him that was. How could Bob not realise that something was wrong with him, when John was acting as if Bob's sole presence was a danger to him? He was an idiot for that, and a selfish one too.

"All of this just because I'm into you!"

His ears still ring, like they were when Bob screamed this sentence at him, whenever he replays that scene in his head. Bob was into him. How long has that been going on? Has Bob developed feelings for him at the same time as John did? Did he do it after? Did he do it before?

He finds himself calculating, replaying whichever old interaction of theirs he can remember in his head, trying to spot any clear moment in which Bob might have shown his interest for him. How could he have not noticed? He was so up in his head, so scared and ashamed, that he ignored the truth in front of his eyes. This awareness weighs heavy on his chest, and it makes his thoughts spiral uncontrollably. Because how could it be possible for Bob to be into him? He treated him shitty when they first met and went back to being a dick to him, all because he found himself caring too much about the guy. The knowledge that Bob's feelings are much more nonsensical than John's makes the latter's head spin, and he feels like he might puke from the motion sickness anytime now.

And something inside of him, a very vocal part of his consciousness, is deadly sure that he didn't notice this substantial reality because he would never, never even fathom that someone could love him again. Not after being the reason why he lost every person who ever did that.

"Grow the fuck up Walker!"

This blow at him didn't even hurt. Instead, it made reality sink in his chest, and it felt heavier than a mountain. Bob was so right about him, that it made John feel like he was as transparent as glass.

All this time spent burying what he felt for the other man deep inside of him, trying to suffocate feelings he was well aware of. He fought with himself for so long, and for what? Who was he trying to appeal? Who put him under this obligation to conceal a part of himself, so strong that John thought it would break him?

The only person who really cared about him being attracted to a man, about John being in love with Bob, was John himself. He hid behind the values he was brought up with, behind the family he had built with Olivia and then destroyed himself, behind what would the public opinion think of him. He hid, like he always does, behind masks of strength and anger and duties, when in reality he was the only judge who was still ruling on his life. He has always been, and that's the reason for so many of his unforgivable mistakes. For pushing people away and making them hate him.

His pride is his worst vice, not his ire. The anger is nothing but another pathetic costume he wears to appeal to whoever is watching him, judging him. The real, deep force that controls all of his behaviours, that has always been controlling every aspect of his life, is fear. The fear that one day, everyone will find out what a fraud he is. Like it has happened before.

And Bob saw right through it, even more than he probably had realised that evening, about ten days before. He made John realise how pointless this act has always been. How his mask is not tough, authoritarian, but ridiculous.

And John is ashamed of himself for making Bob realise this ugly truth about him.

The mortification, self-consciousness and remorse that fill the silences, the distance between the two men are so heavy that they've become tangible. Both Bob and John are mortified by how they left things off, regretful about what they've left unsaid.

They avoid each other not much because they feel hurt, but because of how hurt the other clearly is because of them. Right now they aren't so different, but as always they can't realise that.

But this resemblance between their inner worlds is what causes the smallest shift, after days of stillness. This similarity is the reason why, when Bob walks in the gym while John is training, he doesn't walk back out. It's why John fights the urge to run, and instead stays.

Their likeness is the reason why, after training in the silent presence of each other, John finally makes a step towards Bob. It's why he tries to play it cool, to tease Bob about skipping their sparring matches, and fails miserably to sound nonchalant about that.

John's clear nervousness is the reason why Bob's answer doesn't come as a biting remark, but instead he lightly mocks him. Something about John not being a very effective teacher.

The left corner of John's mouth lifts, in something that resembles the smallest grin, barely noticeable. But Bob notices. And when John invites him to show how shitty of a teacher he's been, Bob gets into it without any resistance.

They start out slow, careful, like they're afraid to go past grazing each other's skin, to really touch. But punch after dodge, kick after parry, they go back in that not-so-perfect sync, in that flawed dance of theirs that both of them have missed terribly.

The tension dissipates as their movements become quicker, the walls they built come crashing down as their fight becomes more intense. For a while, all they can hear is the thuds of their skins crushing against each other and their fatigued grunts.

Then, in an instant, the chaos stops. Their bodies freeze in front of each other. Bob has John's right fist tightly wrapped by the fingers of his right hand. John's left hand is still tightly closed besides his cheek. His eyes are as wide as ever, as if he's been struck by the most unexpected, breathtaking view ever.

It's Bob's face he's staring at, close as it's ever been. His dark hair, damp with sweat, is sticking to his forehead. His lips are slightly parted, as he rapidly inhales and exhales through his mouth. His blue eyes are locked in John's, and he refuses to release his gaze. And John is mesmerized by this sight.

For what feels like a while, the only sound in the room is their unsteady breaths mixing together.

"See? I told you this was easy." Bob finally utters. He's breathless, his voice rough and low. His lips are curved in a grin that looks too sweet to be genuinely coy.

John has never moved more naturally than now, when he grabs Bob by the shoulder with his free hand and draws him closer to him. He has never been more present with himself than when he feels Bob's chapped lips crush against his own. He's never felt so defenseless than now, kissing the man he's been desperate to kiss for so long.

He feels bare when his mouth is against Bob's. And he's never felt safer than this.

Bob has never been chosen before. He's not who people chase after, he's the one that they get stuck with. He's not even the consolation prize, he's a punishment.

Even now that he has somewhat of a family of his own, his brain is still wired to make him feel like he's not enough. Bob's default setting is hating himself, and he's defeatedly aware of that. The damage to his self esteem, crushed after years of abuse, of being an outcast, will be difficult to undo.

But now that John's holding him like he's begging him not to go, now that the man he loves is kissing him like his only source of oxygen is stored between Bob's lips, now these constant, awful thoughts feel less heavy.

Kissing John, Bob feels wanted. He feels pleasant. And he's never letting go of this emotion. He doesn't want to stop thinking that he's deserving of this, of being chased after, of being cherished. And John will never let him do that anymore.

[manifestingitgurlll]

separate yourself from ego!!

always remember that they are you (as is everything), but you are not them. you're not their thoughts or feelings or experiences. you are just consciousness, the observer. so let ego do whatever!

if they want to rant about how they don't have their desire, let them. if they want to cry and scream about it, just watch. know that it's not you and that none of it matters.

this is why i truly love separating myself consciously between the two. it gets to a point where ego just...moves on from manifestation in general. it doesn't fight me. i observe and i know what i say is the only thing that matters. that i'm the player and they're just the character.

how do i do that? i basically just talk out loud and treat it like a whole other person. for example, this is how it would go:

ego - "ugh i really want food. like im so hungry i wish i had some. why can't i ever have the food i want? now i have to eat garbage. i hate it here."

me - "hm ego is really hungry right now, she's mad she doesn't have food. well, i already have food. i actually have my favorite food and it's so yummy. i'm really glad i have it. she's stuck on the old story but she'll recognize the new one soon."

ego - "well. i guess i'll just stay hungry ☹️"

again, i feel like i sound crazy 😍 but idk it works for me. ego doesn't fight cause i literally ignored it. i didn't try to control it's thoughts or anything, i let it continue to complain and do whatever. why? bcs i know the truth! i know the real story. so whatever ego says is meaningless. and that's what it means to truly not identify.

eventually, i do think i'd get to a point where i don't have to separate it like this, and i'd just have that silent knowing in the back of my head. but i love talking to myself, so this is more normal for me.

it sounds weirdddd but give it a try?

[dragonzfanfics11]

Sbg main six x reader that’s a night owl barely sleeps, but can function perfectly fine.

I love this sm because I'm such a night owl myself and can function somewhat fine (depends the day)😭

Sbg x night owl! Reader

Warnings - none besides possible spelling errors and it's kinda short sorry! :]

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Ashlynn

Generally concerned about how you can function properly with so little sleep

The first time she notices is at the savanna field trip

You all were sharing the bed or you were sleeping on a couch that was in the room (your pick!)

And even before the phantom showed up she noticed you still awake just doing whatever but she didn't pay much attention because you were pretty quiet and not bothering her

Then after the phantom you all obviously barely or didn't sleep at all

Then you just, walked around the rest of the day like you didn't only get an hour of sleep??

She wants to know how you do it tbh

Also trys getting you into a somewhat better sleeping routine after y'all get closer as friends or lovers

¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿

Aiden

I feel like he's kinda the same way?

Like he still smiles and jokes around like normal but you can definitely tell he's tired

You on the other hand it's almost impossible to tell

The first time he notices is probably at one of the sleep overs and he's having trouble sleeping and notices your still awake to

Then the next morning you where still awake or woke up earlier then him

Either way he's super confused about how you do it

Like "how can you survive with so little sleep?? Are you like a super hero or something??"

After y'all get closer he shows you some tricks he learned or what Ben showed him to fall asleep better

Will 100% lay on top of you so you can't move and cuddle with you till you fall asleep, no arguments allowed

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

Ben

I feel like it takes longer for him to notice because I think he's one of the first to fall asleep in the group?

Definitely not the first one to fall asleep but definitely not the last either

So when he does notice he trys his best to figure out why your not sleeping much and trying to find ways to help you fall asleep more

Even if you don't want him to or you like staying up late he's definitely trying to get you into a more healthy schedule

Hell check in with you constantly to make sure your ok even if you reassure him constantly that your seriously fine even with so little sleep

Probably makes you/suggests you to try tea that's supposed to help relax you or make you tired, unless you don't like tea

→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→

Tyler

i feel like he'd notice pretty quickly because I feel like he's pretty observant?

Like I feel like he'd be able to see you didn't get much sleep just by how you act even if you seem like you've got a whole nights sleep

At the sleepovers he trys to subtly get you to sleep and stop doing whatever

Like he'd give you your blanket and pillow or simply fake yawn to see if you would yawn or realize your tired

Random stuff like that

Eventually he'd have enough of it and will drag you over to where everyone was going to sleep and make you lay down and get an actual night's rest

No matter if you say your fine

He will not leave you alone till you get onto a healthier sleep schedule

←←←←←←←←←←←←←←←←←

Taylor

Probably takes her or Logan the longest to notice?

Mainly because I see them falling asleep first in the group (I could be wrong tho)

Tyler, Ben or ash probably bring it up to her and she's like what?? No way!

She literally has no idea how you can function with so little sleep like how??

She tried staying up with you once, fell asleep 3 hours in

Respects if you choose to stay up late but does try to help you get a bit more sleep then you usually do

Off topic headcanon but shed probably do like late night skin care routine stuff with you if she can't sleep herself

★★★★★★★★★★★★

Logan

Like I said in Taylor's he'd probably one of the last to notice

Probably hears of it from Taylor or ben

He literally can't comprehend how you can manage

Likes to ask you questions about what it's like, how you do it, esc.

Suggests stuff that can help you sleep and says you should probably get a bit better of a sleep schedule because what your doing can't be healthy

But won't force you to do it

Will remind you tho and try to help in his own sweet way

★★★★★★★★★★★★

Sorry about it being so short and I think it went a bit off from what you requested so feel free to request again if it want what you wanted! :3

[ckret2]

recent convert of scaraku. loved the headcanons post but wanted to ask about a breakup, like you said aku doesn't really give his beloved an option in being loved by him, so how far does tolerance go of scara ever doing anything that would displease aku? obv scara is not doing a lot of that as he's Programmed to Be Loyal and is also in love but could they ever break up or get in a fight

*looks @ the fic I'm working on* ... yeah they can fight

but I imagine they'd fight very little, for the important reason that the more they fight, the more likely that Scaramouche ends up dead and that's the end of things.

i headcanon that Aku has a pretty high tolerance from Nonsense out of underlings that are competent and get him what he wants, but that tolerance evaporates if they fail to provide whatever it is Aku uses them for.

That's why, (for instance), he accepts Scaramouche's collect call, doesn't punish Scaramouche for disobeying two orders to leave him alone, and doesn't flinch at getting called things like "babe" and "Aku-kachoo"—his #1 assassin can get away with that—but he detonates Scaramouche's head the instant he finds out he was wrong about Jack's sword—now Scaramouche is a failure, and failures are dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. I think in a relationship he'd be the same.

Things that would annoy the hell out of normal people in a relationship, he's barely bothered by. if he comes home and discovers while he was out scaramouche painted his bedroom hot pink? he'd be briefly irritated he wasn't asked and then he'd be like "guess i'm learning to appreciate hot pink 🤷" Got the vibe of an old rich guy with a sugar baby three generations younger than him who just kinda indulges his baby doing the most bizarre shit imaginable so he can observe in curious befuddled fascination.

due to the nature of their personalities (specifically, the "Scaramouche's programmed for obedience" thing), probably a majority of their fights are gonna take the form of "aku i'm gonna do this thing you hate because it's good for you" "don't you fucking dare." stuff like forcing aku to go outside and socialize because he hasn't gone anywhere but his personal quarters and audience chamber for the past two months.

on the other hand, a bigger issue that a normal couple might consider breaking up over but eventually discuss and work out, there's a risk that aku will consider it an executable offense—and that's the end of things.

(PROBABLY the end of things—although @billford-dump and i have discussed a delightfully toxic scenario: what if aku's so quick to blow up scaramouche's head because scaramouche periodically backs up his memory/mind and can just download it into a fresh body if anything kills him? what if when he's back online, he knows something must've killed him while he was out with aku taunting jack, but not what it was, and aku doesn't tell him? what if Aku's done this multiple times when he's pissed and Scaramouche has no clue? wouldn't that be fucked up)

but anyway—luckily for scaramouche, off the top of my head i'm having a hard time thinking of an example of a solvable relationship issue that aku would kill him for. i know they're there, i'm just coming up blank. like,, cheating obviously, that is something that some couples work past; but it's also something to which a whole lot of people would say "no yeah murder is totally justified" so it doesn't really stand out as a good example of a something remarkable for Aku to kill him for. (also Scaramouche wouldn't cheat unless there were some damn compelling extenuating circumstances. )

breaking up is far less likely than murder. I can think of a couple situations that could end in breaking up, but like, they're soooo incredibly specific & niche (like 'you'd need an entire fic to set up the premise' specific), it's not something a "normal" relationship would encounter.

the only "normal" reason they'd break up i can think of is something like "they've been together so long that aku gets bored of scaramouche and fires him as boyfriend." i don't imagine that happening any time soon, but anything's possible in a few centuries/millennia

[beekeaper]

Watson's adaptations through the adaptations:

First: I believe that all interpretations of the canon are valid, everyone can interpret a work based on what they understand and know. Conan Doyle never denied or confirmed anything, but he allowed us to do whatever we wanted with the characters.

For example, some people interpret H&W's relationship as romantic, others as fraternal, some interpret Holmes and Irene's relationship as romantic, and all of these theories (if I can call them theories) are valid, none are right and none are wrong. Everyone is free to interpret all of the characters' relationships in some way.

Establishing this, that each individual will interpret these characters in a certain way, my analysis is based mainly on the way I interpret these characters and how I understand them.

My entire analysis is based (in some) on the adaptations that I watched and the sample that I decide to use for this analysis is here.

Watson:

One of the biggest flaws in practically ALL adaptations is who Watson is and what his role in the story is. He is a narrator and biographer, has a medical degree, military training and battlefield experience. And most adaptations don't seem to know what to do with him. He is there to inflate Holmes' ego, and follow him around like a puppy dog obeying his master's orders.

As a teacher, my understanding of the psychology of intelligence (focused on education) is that there are multiple intelligences (Howard Gardner), people have different developments, and Holmes being intelligent does not make Watson less intelligent. People have different intelligences, Holmes is intelligent in several areas and in others he is not, and him not being intelligent in some areas does not make him less intelligent. And the same goes for Watson.

How can Watson be adapted as "less intelligent" if he is a trained doctor? It makes no sense.

(very long post)

Watson often seems to stand aside as an outside observer to appreciate Holmes, but many times he does have direct involvement in the story. For example, he is usually the one with the gun when it is needed (and I think Holmes has absolutely no control when he has a gun. STOP SHOOTING THE DOG, IT'S ALREADY DEAD!)

I like to think of Watson as an anthropologist, he likes to observe people and he has an intense curiosity about people. And his main subject of observation is Holmes himself. In the early years he observes Holmes, takes notes about him.

(excerpt from "Study in Scarlet")

As a scientist interested in his new discovery, Watson is fascinated by Holmes, and studies him. He learns Holmes's moods and routines, knows when Holmes needs his alone time, knows when Holmes is in a depressed mood and when he is not. He has studied Holmes closely and understands him like no other character could. And Watson's curiosity about other people is noted throughout the canon. (Not only is he curious about people, but Holmes is too) they love to hear criminals tell their whole story that led them to commit the crimes.

“Tell us all about how you decided to kill those men because of a treasure that you threw into the river” (H&W probably)

In The Hound of the Baskervilles we see how Watson pays attention to people, to the individuals he is living with at that moment, their reactions to certain situations and how these people relate to each other. And I believe that Watson's intelligence lies in how he understands people in their contexts, in a way that perhaps Holmes cannot understand. (I think the ending was more of a headcanon, sorry)

Still, I don't believe that Holmes is completely ignorant about people and society, he clearly deviates from the norms, despite his gentlemanly manners, Holmes is indeed eccentric, he is not very conventional with social norms, but he was never rude or disrespectful.

Including in relation to the misogyny that is sometimes mentioned in the adaptations. Holmes is a product of his time, he declares an aversion to women and believes that their criminal limitations go up to and only to crimes of passion. But he never disrespected his clients and always helped them in a kind manner. Example: The Lone Cyclist and The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger.

Illustration by Sidney Paget, short story “The Solitary Cyclist” (1904)

Another example is his treatment of Violet Hunter. Holmes respects her intelligence and abilities, letting her investigate her own situation with his help. Despite Watson's attempts as a cupid, and Holmes being funny, says that Violet is like a younger sister.

Holmes and Watson complement each other, they are opposites to each other. They may not have each other's intelligence and abilities, but they can make up for it with what each one can offer. An example is “The Blanched Soldier”, ignoring Holmes' accusation that Watson is selfish and “The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife”. Holmes recognizes Watson's absence, especially in this specific case that deals with something so "human", this young man just wants to be close to his dear friend again, whom he hasn't seen in a long time, and Holmes also misses Watson.

But sometimes the whole point is that as social beings that we are, Holmes just needs a friend, maybe there's nothing else behind it. Everyone needs friends. Holmes needs a friend, to sit in front of the fire enjoying each other's company or to walk arm in arm like two men who know each other intimately.

He is easily cast aside as the narrator, everything zeroing in on how Holmes thinks and acts, which puts Watson in a place of stupidity and surprise, neglecting his intelligence and strength.

(by @aregularirregular221b )

There is clearly a lack of understanding of who Watson is in the stories and his role. One of the most famous Watsons is Nigel Bruce's portrayal, and all other adaptations simply adapted that, perpetuating Watson's image as ignorant and stupid. This is when other adaptations want to be different and make a more active Watson, because they don't want to make him seem stupid, since most believe that the stupid Watson is the canon Watson. This has generated prejudice against Watson on the part of the actors, because they don't want to play the fool, the stupid sidekick who can't understand anything Holmes says.

Watson shows surprise not because he is stupid, but because he is FASCINATED, and this is what BBCSH does it right.

Despite the stereotype that Nigel Bruce's Watson perpetuates, his Watson is still intelligent in some episodes when it suits him, and even when he makes mistakes, Holmes doesn't care, at least I don't remember him ever mistreating Watson for getting in the way.

Rathbone Holmes cares so much for his silly Watson THAT HE LET MORIARTY GO. (Spoiler alert) Moriarty tells Holmes that he got Watson, Holmes lets Moriarty go for Watson's safety, and he desperately goes looking for Watson to find out that he was fine THE WHOLE TIME.

Rathbone, who plays Holmes, acts smart, but it’s significantly increased with the stupidity of Watson and Lestrade, making for more boring cases and long movies that only manage to get interesting when it’s just Holmes, usually in danger. There are no intellectual threats other than Moriarty, and it’s completely debatable if he even works, because Holmes gets himself into stupid, rash, and absolutely ridiculous situations, clearly proving that implied intelligence is very dependent on Watson’s character.

(by @aregularirregular221b )

In “Murder By Decree” (1979) with Christopher Plummer and James Mason, Mason only accepted the role if his Watson could be intelligent, his Watson has an active participation in the case, which draws sighs and loving eyes from Holmes.

And yes, he looks at Watson like that the entire film.

The 2000-2002 films starring Matt Frewer and Kenneth Welsh follow a similar approach, placing Watson more actively in the investigations. “Шерлок Холмс” (2013) tries again to change Watson’s approach. Here Watson demonstrates more of his military and medical side. He is the protagonist narrating the fictional story of a Holmes who does not exist, while the real Holmes he lives with, is completely different from the actual canon. Of course, adaptations such as “Granada Holmes” with David Burke and later Edward Hardwicke as Watson and “Soviet Holmes” with Witali Solomin, are some of the few adaptations that remain faithful to the canon (not 100%). These adaptations manage to get closer to the canon image of Watson. I like all three interpretations, but I think the Soviet version brings out Watson’s youthful softness and curiosity better than the Granada version. And “The Great Mouse Detective” deserves some consideration, its Watson is adorable, despite being silly and clumsy many times.

It is quite notable in the adaptations the position of Watson as practically useless in the plot where many times he really does nothing except be there surrounded by Holmes and to complete his image. You can even forget that Watson was there. Just a sidekick. 

If shown a picture of a deerstalker coupled with a pipe that had blue smoke curling up from the small cup where the tobacco rested, a majority of the population would easily shout, “Sherlock Holmes!” However, if they were shown a picture of the Afghan War and medical supplies, only a couple of people would raise their voices and reply, “Oh, John Watson!” As much as the beloved companion of Sherlock Holmes is seen and discussed, there is no doubt that he is overshadowed greatly by the detective himself, nor is there any surprise.

(by @aregularirregular221b )

In the 2001 film “A Case of Evil”, Watson works in the morgue, which seems like an attempt to bring Watson’s profession closer to Holmes’ and make Watson a more active part of the investigation, which is interesting, but this film is not that good. 

Other adaptations that I like their versions of Watson and that I can still see the image of a Watson similar to the canon are the two versions produced by Sherldon Reynolds, “Howard Holmes” (1954) with Howard Marion-Crawford as Watson and “Whitehead Holmes” (1980) with Donald Pickering. While in the first version Watson is almost paternal with a childish (bratt) and playful Holmes, having to make sure that his Holmes doesn't eat poison by mistake or end up provoking the police. While the 80s version has a more serious tone than the previous one, the H&W dynamic changes a bit too, Watson is serious (and very elegant btw) and at times is the person with the most knowledge in addition to developing his own investigative capabilities, even if he made a mistake and Holmes is not a secret criminal.

A good adaptation of Watson also needs a good adaptation of Holmes to make sense. Like the versions by Douglas Wilmer and Peter Cushing with their shared Watson by Nigel Stock, or another example, Thorley Walter was Watson to three different Holmeses, Cushing Holmes (in 1984) has a good Watson, but Christopher Lee (in 1990-1991) is a Watson who is almost irrelevant to the plot.)

I also can't help but not to mention Jude Law's Watson, he sometimes seems to be very angry or perhaps resentful of Holmes, he is a Watson with a more military posture, we see his medical skills and his attempts at deduction, which fit well with the dynamic with RDJ Holmes who is probably one of the most eccentric Holmeses and needs a more down-to-earth and firm Watson. (Am I the only one, or does anyone else also think that Jude Law is the closest I can imagine to the canon Watson in appearance.)

And we also have the interesting adaptation of “Sherlock Gnomes” that puts Watson in a position of injustice, he feels left out, and I honestly think it’s an interesting approach, a different plot than usual, and it’s always good to explore different stories with these characters. But again, Holmes would never do that, he would never leave Watson aside like in the movie and much less would he be so disrespectful to Watson. In the end he understands and apologizes, it’s sweet, but canon Holmes would never allow it to get to that situation.

Many adaptations fail in Holmes and Watson dynamic, where Watson is disposable, replaceable, and again, almost useless in the plot, and constantly disrespected for his intelligence in the story. And as an example of a bad adaptation of their dynamic, there’s Ian Hart’s Watson in the 2002 movie “The Hound of The Baskervilles”, he hates his Holmes.

As much is known that no adaptation has to be 100% faithful to the book, but it would be good to still see the original character in the adaptations. Many put "the spirit of the book", Doyle was a spiritualist and I don't think even he could see the spirit of the book in some adaptations.

The characters become so unrecognizable that changing their names wouldn't make a difference because it's not Holmes and it's not Watson. And that's my biggest problem with the CBS series Watson. Who is he? Where is Watson? The series manages to establish a good dynamic with a non-existent Holmes. Watson has no problem saying how much he misses Holmes and loves him, Mary even repeats several times how Watson preferred to leave her, his own wife, to be with Holmes, she even says "What you needed was in London".

CBW Watson seems to want to answer: “who Watson is without Holmes?”. And yet, it fails. (Or not, they need each other)

It seems that H&W has a good dynamic, but we don't know this Holmes and this Watson is unrecognizable. The movie “Empire of Corpses” (2015) suffers a bit from the same CBS Watson situation. I’m not sure if I see Watson there, but it’s an interesting story. Following Victor Frankenstein’s research, Watson wants to bring his brother back to life.

And then there’s the second problem with adaptations, which, in addition to considering Watson useless in the plot, there are several adaptations where Watson doesn’t exist, and even worse, they consider his participation in the story replaceable. Often placing random characters who fit the role of Watson. Watson becomes the mere narrator, our point of view, and this point of view can change depending on who is by Holmes’ side. (And I hate all the adaptations that do this.

Most of the adaptations that remove Watson are animations and episodes in other series that make references ONLY to Holmes and ignore Watson or make some joke about Watson being stupid. Watson is replaced by dogs, protagonists from other franchises (who often play a “Smarter than Watson” role), daughters, sisters, love interests, or even Moriarty).

Watson is either stupid or discarded.

Adaptations that follow this model: “Sherlock In Russia” (2020), “Sherlock and Daughter” (2025), “Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century” (1999), “Sherlock in the 23rd Century” (1988), “The Return of Sherlock Holmes” (1987), “Baker Street: Sherlock Holmes Returns" (1994), “Shirley Holmes” (1997), “Granada Young Sherlock: The Mystery of the Manor House” (1982).

In “Without a Clue” (my favorite movie), there is a unique approach. Here Watson is the real Sherlock Holmes, the stories he wrote are the cases he solved himself, and Holmes is a hired actor, this movie is a masterpiece. It is a good mix of Watson's personality with Holmes' skills and mannerisms, it is fascinating. And with a cast with Ben Kingsley and Michael Caine. I even consider it in a way a tribute(?) - to Conan Doyle, who often had his own intelligence doubted, to his very intelligent creation. People forget that HE is the one who writes everything.

And again, BBCSH in the crime scene creates a brand new image for Watson for the modern era, for those who don't know Martin Freeman had not read the books before the series and started with Nigel Bruce Watson. (It is written in the editions of the book where the actors and producers of BBCSH wrote introductions).

(honestly I am the worst person to talk about BBCSH nowadays, I haven't watched it since 2017 (if you know you know) and well, my relationship with BBC Sherlock is not good anymore)

The big problem here is their whole dynamic, Sherlock and John do not respect each other. Sherlock doesn't respect John's boundaries, he doesn't apologize for anything, and John often lets his anger get the better of him.

I don't think it's a good adaptation, transforming the relationship and H&W dynamics into something so violent. No other adaptation has even one scene where Holmes or Watson deliberately attack each other, not as a joke, not for a case. Not ever. John is probably the worst adaptation of Dr. Watson. And that's not just because of the events of season four. It's because of the whole thing. Their dynamic degrades as the series goes on, John doubts Sherlock's abilities and stops trusting him. Where is Watson's loyalty?

But it was fun.

I can't help but mention Sherlock & Co., this Watson is very unique, he's very modern (not a bad thing), I can imagine that Watson's reputation makes him seem like a very sociable character, and I find it interesting how they made Watson SO MODERN compared to Pod!Holmes who speaks very similar to the canon. It seems like they put canon Holmes with the most modern Watson in the world.

Other adaptations that need to be mentioned are Colin Blakely's Watson from “Private Life of Sherlock Holmes”, his role in the film is also silly and kind of stupid, he borders on ignorance and is one of the bad Watsons.

We also have Royce Pierreson Watson from “Netflix’s Irregulars” (2021), again they try a different approach, but here Watson actually takes on the role of Holmes, the H&W dynamic doesn't work well either, despite the explicit statement that Watson loves Holmes and has taken care of him for years, this Holmes clearly doesn't care that much about Watson. Another different dynamic is Takanori Iwata's Watson from “Sherlock Untold Stories”, he is a psychologist and actively participates in the investigations with his Holmes (Shishio), but again Watson is unrecognizable here.

I could even mention Wilson here, but his importance in the plot is limited to how House needs him.

And I left the one that impresses me the most for last. Is it faithful to the book? Far from it, but it manages to convey what other adaptations fail to do. Lucy Liu's Watson is as important to the series as Watson is in the book. She is the foundation. Unlike other adaptations that are always trying to overcome an image of Watson that doesn't exist, Elementary, even though it changes many aspects of Watson's story, manages to show the importance that Watson has, especially for Holmes. Elementary Watson is not an extension of Holmes, she has her own plot, but that doesn't make their dynamic so separate. They orbit each other (Holmes says so), even though they are independent of each other's plots, they complement each other. Watson demonstrates her intelligence and complements Holmes's and vice versa. Holmes teaches her his methods, and Watson is a detective just like Holmes, she is part of the investigative process. There is an equality between them. 

Of all the adaptations, of all the attempts to make Watson better than his original counterpart, to make him more relevant in the story under the false premise of doing justice for him. Elementary adapts the relationship between Holmes and Watson and their companionship in a beautiful and well-developed way over the course of seven seasons. Because Holmes and Watson are the heart of the story, they are the protagonists together, the books are about them and the people they help. And Elementary manages to synthesize this wonderfully. They respect and help each other. I just love them.

And just like in the book, where Holmes is willing to kill for Watson, and Watson is willing to commit a crime for a good cause alongside Holmes, where the displays of affection and how they care for each other are CLEAR in the book. And mainly the love they have for each other, regardless of whether you interpret this love as romantic, platonic, friendship or brotherly, Holmes and Watson love each other, and Elementary manages to convey this perfectly.

In conclusion, I think no adaptation has managed to make Watson as he in the canon, and we have so many Wastons that it is difficult to recognize him most of the time, and if he is not next to Holmes, we will not see him.

Honorable mentions to Ian Fleming's Watson, who is almost the damsel in distress to Arthur Wontner's Holmes, to Watson from “Dr. Watson and the Darkwater Hall Mystery” (1974) who solves a case alone and takes advantage of his reputation on three continents, and lastly, and which everyone should watch, I will not give spoilers, “Shekhar Home” (2024), probably one of the most unexpected stories for Watson.

Extra: Why do most adaptations place Watson SO much older than Holmes? Watson is between two years younger than Holmes or at most three years older than Holmes. John Hamish Watson has a reputation on three continents, WATSON IS THE HOT ONE, NOT HOLMES.

BE KIND when responding.

Special thanks to @aregularirregular221b for letting me read and quote her essay, it was inspiring, and helped me finally finish writing my own essay!

_____________

Personal sources:

Giant List of Sherlock Holmes Adaptations

Sampling Watson Adaptations

H&W actors

References:

Sherlock Holmes Canon

Conan Doyle Encyclopedia

[kewpiekitty]

Kewpie my dear Kittieh, may I please ask for some fluff... The fluffiest fluff??

I irl am going through it(my mom died a couple weeks ago) and some fluff would be so soul soothing.

I was thinking Solomon, Luke, and Simeon, please? Whatever you'd like

But just cute and fluffy.

Thank you sweet one.

a/n: omg !! technically my asks are closed but for you honey i will do it !! i am so sorry for your loss that must be awful what you are going through :( !! i hope that you're able to heal from such a journey ! i will definitely fulfill your request for the fluffiest fluff ever !! so please sit back, relax, and enjoy these sweet tooth-rotting headanons !!

luke comforting you ── .✦

luke loves getting to see you when you finish your classes. he eagerly looks for you only to be disappointed when he doesn't see you walking out of your last class.

"where could they be?" he roams the halls but finally gives up when he doesn't see you anywhere. he walks outside of the school but is quickly stopped by the sound of choked sobs.

he finds you, curled up with your head burried in your legs. "y/n? what's wrong?"

you dont answer but sob louder which makes him jump back a little. he walks up to you, sitting down besides you and grabbing your hand.

the contact makes you look up at him, small tears rolling down your red cheeks. he wipes them away and tells you "you're doing an amazing job, i know there musrt be something tough going on right now, but you'll get through it because you're strong."

his thumb starts rubbing your hand as he speaks, the small action giving you tons of reassurance.

he grabs your hand in his and asks if you want to go get something to eat.

you both decide on getting ice cream, then afterwards going to the aquarium.

watching the water move and the creatures swim through it makes you think about the things that you've been dealing with.

'keep going and don't stop moving' is all that plays in your mind. luke smiles as he watches you observe the creatures movement, a content smile gracing your face.

simeon comforting you ── .✦

simeon heard you weren't feeling well today. he wasn't able to get all the details from the brothers, but the thought of you unwell was enough for him to check it out.

he heads to the house of lamentation, sporting a kind smile when lucifer opens the door. "good evening lucifer, may i come in?" the eldest brother allows him in telling simeon about how you've been nothing but upset since you came home from classes.

a small frown etches itself onto his face, you being upset made him feel bad as well. he never did like it when his friends were upset.

he thanks lucifer for the details and heads to your room. heb knows on your door and lets himself in. upon entering it he finds you face down on your pillow.

hearing small little cries coming from your figure. he sits himself on your bed and lays a hand on your back.

"what's wrong angel?"

simeon calls you that because he thiks you're the closest thing to an angel, and coming from a real angel from heaven, that's a compliment.

he uses his fingers to rub soothing circles onto your back, trying his best to make you feel better. when your crying doesn't slow he decides to just lay down next to you.

he wraps and arm around you form and pulls you slightly on top of him. now your face is laying on his chest and the smell of him brings a sense of comfort.

simeon knows you don't really want to talk about it so he just decides to comfort you in whatever way that he can. he leaves small kisses on the top of your head.

"you don't have to talk about it angel. just lay with me for now okay?"

solomon comforting you ── .✦

you find yourself in solomon's dorm room, tears rolling down your face as you try to explain what happened. your attempt is unsuccesful with you babbling random words like 'gone..please..i can't'

his heart aches at the sight of you, your eyes red and face blotchy from all of the crying that you've been doing. he pulls you into his room so you don't have to be stadning in the hallway.

he tries to ask you questions about what happened that made you so upset, but it doesn't work as you continue to cry loude and louder at the thought.

his arms immediately wrap around you in a comforting embrace. his hand reaches up to your head to pet your hair in a soothing motion.

"shhh pretty, it's gonna be okay." he doesn't let you speak, he continues trying to calm you down.

once you've calmed down he gets up from his position but you grab his arm, tears welling up in your eyes once again. "please don't leave me..."

he kisses under your eyes 'i'm not going anywhere honey. i'm still gonna be right here okay?"

once he's able to move he gets up and plays your favorite movie, laying back down with you and pulling you under the covers with him.

for the rest of the day the two of you lay in bed, his arms holding you tightly and close to his body. he never once lets go of you.

the next morning you wake up in his arms, almost forgetting about the day that you had before.

[cheerleaderman]

Iris Valor

Twst - The Mortal potion (Hercules)

Template by @/ai-kan1

An Expressive person who seems to have not lost their childhood wonder with this and his intelligence helping create interesting inventions. Being taken in by S.T.Y.X at a young age they have grown close to the Shrouds seeing them as his own family but life before S.T.Y.X is something they rarely talk about.

Iris is a mischievous one and considered bit of an odd ball of Ignihyde due to being way more social than others in the drom. Despite that Iris is someone with survivors guilt due to what happened to his family and doesn’t feel like he can really talk about private matters given that his main form of communication is his tablet. Living in S.T.Y.X they think someone could hack into his tablet or could take whatever he wrote down. This makes him have trouble explaining negative emotions

Highly observant paired with his good memory makes him excel with book smarts but street smarts are pretty lacking.

Iris is mute so he communicates from a tablet, writing or sign language (In the game sense the voice would be coming out of the tablet, what he’s thinking/signing, If Iris is writing the other person will be reading what he wrote)

Basic info

Age: 17

He/ they

Height: 166 cm

Birthday: November 14

Voice claim: Eng- Shikanoin Heizou -Genshin impact JP- Manjiro sano - Tokyo revengers

Hometown: Island of Woe

Class: 2-D

Dominant hand: Left

Nickname: Axolotl(Floyd) | Monsieur observateur (Rook) | super villain (Idia) | Rainbow/rain (Friends)| Ortho only calls him just by his first name | Ivy (Ms. Shroud / Elara ) | PinkPoisonBubs - Username | short cake- Fallon

Favorite food: Burgers, Ube Cheesecake, slushies, mini waffle cones filled with chocolate

Like/hobbies: tinkering with machines , mystery/stealth games, collecting items (Favs fun earrings,stickers, figurines ), lab coats, sheep, trying new things

Dislike: Needles, sour candy, broccoli,

Family: Travis ( Father-Deceased ) , Violet ( Mother- ????), Shroud Family

Best subject: Ancient Magic

Talent: Deciphering Ancient text, typing/writing quickly without making mistakes

Club: Film research 

Unique magic: Every Last Drop

Can drain the life energy out of any living thing he touches. When in use Iris will see a bottle slowly draining than represents how much energy is left in that person. Once it’s completely empty the person will die but If Not even if there’s a single drop left said person will feel extremely tired and weak depending how much was drained recovery is also dependent on this.If Iris is upset he can speed up the process.

Iris hasn’t used their UM since he was 8

Extra info

Very much so jack of all trades loving to learn new things.

Iris always has some kind of snacks on them which Floyd will probably take if in the mood

Knows many languages and learned Ancient magic/Text from his mother before her disappearance

One of his friends is from Pomefiore is named Yvonne and she basically just claimed them on site. She does his nails using them as a guinea pig for new designs but Iris likes them so doesn’t really care as long as she keeps them short.

Started taking an interest in machines while look at some of Idia’s old blue prints and was given some of the unfinished or failed projects to tinker with. When Ms. Shroud learned about this she hoped on the opportunity to teach them more.

Their table was broken by people in an attempt to bully them during his first year and Iris got incredibly sad because the Shroud parents gifted it to him for getting into NRC. The others were pissed hearing what had happened but first they repaired the table with a bunch of new upgrades.

Has met Og!Ortho and was pretty confused when Idia presented humanoid Ortho. Honestly he was pretty terrified at first but Elara told him that the Ortho were 2 different people.

Iris isn’t afraid of needles just because of what happened to his father but also getting blood taken from him

Listens in to gossip but not one to go around saying things.

Fallon is like his non official girlfriend ( everyone thinks they’re already dating)

Backstory

Iris was born into a similar research organization like S.T.Y.X. His father was teacher for the other kids and his mother studied in ancient magic.

When Iris was 5 he developed his unique magic while holding a plant seeing some kind of bottle that was draining. When the plant ultimately whittled away he was devastated crying to his parents about what happened. They were shocked and did their best to help Iris understand his magic given that their both magic less. During that time Iris caught the interest of the doctor who is in a different part of the facility offering to study Iris abilities. The parents refused getting a weird feeling from said doctor.

Over the next 3 years the doctor would send people to hover around Iris. The random staff trying to get to know him. They would also unfortunately use the fact Iris is mute to not be able to yell for help. This started to make them grow more and more scared of leaving their parents side. During that time their mother disappeared after going on a work trip leaving just Iris and his dad.

Travis’ Death

A bit after Iris mother’s disappearance , Travis decided to speed that it was time for him and Iris to leave. The doctor was going to do anything to take his son. But the doctor had to plan too.

When they were leaving Iris saw a figure

The doctor stabbed his father with some needle and tried to drag him away. He used his unique magic, he had to get away from that man. Iris just wanted to weaken the man but from the distress he didn’t pay attention to the bottle draining quickly. Once the doctor let go he ran back to his father

With his father what ever the doctor injected into had his dad in pain. They tried to get to the place where they needed to go but Father couldn’t make it. The pain was unbearable , he was coughing up blood and he couldn’t move anymore so Iris used his unique magic to see if his dad could survive. The bottle was less than half full and was draining without Iris even doing anything.

“ It’s not your fault Iris” his father said struggling to embrace his son. “ remember none of this happened because of you, you’re the most precious person to us”. As the bottle kept draining Iris decided to use he UM so that his father wouldn’t have to die in pain.

S.T.Y.X

On the day they were planning to leave S.T.Y.X came as they found disturbing evidence that was happening. During this Iris was found crying clutching on to his father.

The Staff couldn’t get through to Iris mainly due to rough way he was bought there and getting his stuff taken. He refused to do anything crying over his family until Mrs. Shroud came back due to her reminding him of his mother Iris slowly started to communicate.

Fortunately she gave back most of his possessions

Gallery

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[fanficsandcodposts]

Gaz X Reader (F)

You're not sure how you managed to convince Kyle and Johnny to help you play an April Fools joke on Ghost, but you're so happy you did. It was a simple prank: switch Ghost's signature black balaclavas with bright pink ones. After the fun is over, give back the old ones, and no harm or foul. Unfortunately for you, you didn't account for Johnny's inability to follow simple instructions that weren't life or death on the battlefield.

Johnny destroyed the original black balaclavas, leaving only bright pink ones for Ghost to find. To say Ghost was pissed was a gross understatement; he was reasonably furious.

Luckily, Johnny let out an "Oi run for ya life! Aurgh!" as Ghost tackled him to the ground. The altercation gave just enough time for you and Kyle to sprint in the opposite direction, bee-lining to whatever semblance of safety you two could find.

Kyle held a firm grip on your hand as he led you to his go-to hiding spot located across the base in an unmarked janitor's closet. As he opened the door and ushered you in, you both stood in pitch-black darkness. Kyle retched up his arm and pulled the chain on a single fluorescent lightbulb that illuminated the small room. You both looked at each other as you tried to catch your breath, still reeling from the adrenaline of the escape. Kyle checked to make sure he locked the solid wooden door behind the two of you. To the right was a large standing metal shelf with a random assortment of cleaning supplies. Apart from the shelf, the cramped room was barren, with walls composed of exposed concrete blocks. A faint lingering smell of bleach made your nose scrunch, and you grimaced with displeasure at the unpleasant odor.

Kyle lightly chuckled while observing your actions, and you quickly turned to see the sweet little smile you catch him making when he thinks you aren't paying him any attention.

"What's so funny?" You asked softly.

"Nothin', I just think you look cute when you scrunch your nose up like that."

You stared into Kyle's deep brown eyes, a plethora of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He had made sweet comments before, more than a few times, to be exact, but you never pressed. You had been burnt by the flames of love more than your fair share of times. It pained you to think that you were the problem all along. Kyle tried his best to convince you the others were immature idiots and that anyone who would let a beautiful bird like yourself slip through their fingers would live to regret it.

A beautiful bird.

However, not knowing the extent of Ghost's punishment when he found the two of you gave you the confidence that you needed to push farther. If you were going to have to run six miles in the rain or worse for your team's transgressions, you might as well tell Kyle if you were ever going to give the whole relationship thing one more shot; it was going to be with him.

It was always going to be your darling, Gaz.

"I like you, Kyle. Like a lot." You blurted out the statement like you only had one shot to get it right. "I can't think of anyone else I'd like to be with more than you if you did want to try a relationship with me." Your eyes darted to the floor as you felt your face flush.

Kyle raised his eyebrows in a playful, shocked expression. "Oh really? Here I thought you paid me no mind, love."

You looked back up to Kyle after a second, who looked at you with a sweet, relaxed expression.

"No, quite the opposite, actually. I guess I thought pushing you away would keep you safe from me. Turns out it only was hurting the both of us."

"Awh, it's alright, love. It would take a lot more than just ignoring me to push me away." Kyle spoke softly as he closed the gap between the two of you.

"I'd risk my arse any day just to be close to you." He spoke with a kind grin.

You opened your arms and wrapped them around Kyle in a warm embrace. "I know. Thank you for waiting for me."

"I would be a bloody idiot to let someone as special as you slip through my fingers." He spoke as he rested his chin gently on the top of your head.

You released Kyle from your embrace, and then he carefully tucked a loose strand of curly hair behind your right ear. "As much fun as this has been, I would feel like a total arse if I didn't let you in on a little secret."

You looked up at Kyle with a curious look.

"You haven't known Soap as long as I have; I would never let Johnny switch the masks if I didn't have a few backups."

You stared at Kyle wide-eyed in shock but mostly admiration for his genius. "You are just plum full of surprises, aren't you, Garrick?"

"Careful, love. I like how my last name rolls off your tongue. It might be even sweeter if I give it to you, eh?"

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment as your arms snaked around his waist. "I think that's a little bit much for our first date."

Kyle smirked as his hands glided respectfully around your back. "Eh, you're right. How about just a kiss, then?"

You smiled sweetly up at him and moved in for a kiss as an answer. Kyle motioned down, and your lips met with soft precision. It was exactly as kind and sweet as you imagined it could be, almost perfect if it was not for the faint gross smell of cleaning products. You could taste his morning Earl Grey tea still lingering on his tongue. After a moment of bliss, you pulled back and looked up to your new flame as your heart set itself ablaze.

Suddenly, Ghost violently pulled at the janitor's closet door, and the simple lock gave way to his sheer brute force. Standing on the other side of the now broken door, as you held on to Kyle for dear life, was your Lieutenant wearing a bright pink balaclava.

"I'm going to April Fool's my foot up both yer arses!"

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Hiii!

I'm absolutely obsessed with the Creepy!Yuu thing and I'm absolutely ready to punt Yuu into the sun so I can swaddle reader in a fluffy blanket and plop my emotional support plushies and kitten with them istg-

But on another note, how do you thing the staff would act? Personally, I feel like Sam would IMMEDIATELY know something is off and would have at least a vague idea of what's happening because of the whole "friends on the other side" aspect he shares with Dr. facilier from Princess and the Frog. And I feel like Lucius would NOT like Yuu AT ALL, and Professor Trein might notice that. Crewel-sensei is very smart and pretty observant in my opinion, so I feel like he'd feel something was off as well.

ALSO! What about the Ramshackle ghosts? What role do THEY play in this situation?

-🐍 anon (if it's not taken? U can address me as any anon u like!)

Its been 40 years... 👴

Anyways YYAYAYAYY another ask!!! I was totally not waiting for these because these were actually one of my proudest work so far- even if i gave small crumbs and chunks of it!! I love love love you and the rest of my followers soooo much!!! Thank you for staying with me!!

Anyway, to your questions... [srry im half awake after writing a poem for an assignment wth]

Sam WOULD be the first to know. I mean, friends on the other side? Yes, ur defintely right!!! Actually, I'm still in the progress of Yuu's hcs, since no one is able [or atleast, hasn't] sent me or made any hcs for Yuu, so I'm doing it myself, I've made Yuu a bit too scarily smart... from my point of view. I've been watching true crime documantaries and honestly... I've actually based Yuu off with these doc videos on YouTube, mot literally of course!! Its like,,, the criminal [depends on which] is incredibly smart, and some cases weren't even solved yet and I've based Yuu of of the fact SOME missing or murder cases hasn't been active for years since it had long been since that incident happens,, until it happens again.

So, I've wanted to put Yuu on this pedestal where they struggle from Sam, to other students, emphasis on Sam btw. Yuu thinks he's annoying asf. Yuu might crash out from this guy.

And Sam has actually been helping reader, not openly of course. His 'friends' had warned him that humans in another world, perhaps might be dangerous than he might think... who knows? It hasn't been confirmed yet! But, Yuu's actions says otherwise...

The first time Sam saw Yuu and you, he knew there was something going on with that look in your eyes. It was empty, soulless, maybe? Your silence was deafening even when there were people speaking, the screams in your silence spoke about pretty much everything. So, he kept an eye out on Yuu. Never had he ever felt this strong sense of eerieness in the atmosphere prior to both the otherworlders arrival.

He wants to genuinely help you, even if it meant Yuu will spiral. But, he can't. Once Yuu comppetely spirals, what will they do? Unpredictability is an intriguing thing, but dangerous if used in a situation like this. Little imp, want something? Here, he'll give it to you, space and comfort if you will. Oh, can't reach that? His friends could help you. He shouldn't stare at you with pity, but he wants you to be 'back to normal' where your soul can freely roam, not as a spectator, but an individual as your own. Now, how does he get this situation solved...?- ah, wait-

What was that? Whatever could have had happened within the other first year imps?

Crewel would think that Yuu acts weirdly around you, suspecting that they had a crush on you (well... they do but not in a cute way-) until they start smelling your hair.

Uhm.. so uh- whatthefuack is wrong with crushing nowadays? Hmph. Well, looks like he needs to... fix something. Etiquette, he means.

Until it gets serious, Crewel does not like that.

Never stalk anyone, especially a crush. No matter how much you want to personally know them. But this- this. Its different. He knows this isn't normal. This shouldn't be.

He tried confronting Yuu, but they kept avoiding the question. Its annoying, suspension wont help either. They live with you, how is he supposed to prevent that? Unless... well, he can always offer you another place to sleep in, ah.

With this bastard of a person, nothing really escapes them. Whatever they had done, it will never be forgiven. Not on this world. It won't be overlooked. He assures you.

Just, hang in there, please.

Trein's cat, Lucius. This cat HATES Yuu. No, despises, Yuu. The cat literally chooses to go on readers lap but NEVER on Yuu, under any circumstances. And Trein is wary, too. For his beloved cat, had avoided a supposed admirable and heroic student? Yes, he too has suspicions on Yuu, he just doesn't want to assume.

But, his heart has this vague aching whenever he sees this child's eyes. The feeling of loss and numbness to everything, just following orders even if simple. Oh sweet dear child, what had that monster done to you?

And everytime he says 'you'. You get reminded of 'you' not you. Who...

Who are you?

Trein wants to help you find your identity again, or at least, bring back the ones they had stolen. But he can't do that, so instead he tries to make you spark an interest in something from his world, telling you small stories about himself, and even tutoring you on what you can't understand. Even if it meant it hurts seeing your hollow eyes spacing out. Please don't do whatever he thinks you might do. He wants to help you, save you, and keep you from feeling fear and the loss of purpose.

Vargas. He wouldn't know it at first, pretty sure like, around maybe,,, b4 after, whent eh incident in Scarabia ends and everyone is back to school. Vargas would see you slightly shaken from the events. And when I mean events, I mean the time where Jamil had locked both you and Yuu in the same room. Hah, it was mad terrifying. Imagine, being stuck in the same room with the person who stalks you, messeges you in the dead of night, giving you unwanted letters, killing your friend, kidnapping, and identity stealing, literally. From you. All while they claim in that same breath that they're doing this because they love you. Loving you in general, means loving what makes you, well, you.

What did they do to you exactly? Nothing too explicit. Just creepy staring at you, Grim? Oh, well he got fucking scared as well. The room was kindaa dark tbh. Its always been like that whenever Yuu is present. When Yuu is walking through the halls, it gets a bit heavier, a bit dimmer, and a bit off-putting for those who can see through the deception and lies. But after b7? That, but a hundred times worse than what I've described. So-

Just imagine a fucker staring at you with their face dark, and a literal grin ear to ear type. Do you know how scary that shit is especially when Yuu's eyes go dark whenever they look at you??? Nah, I'd pass out.

Vargas at least saw the dim light in Yuu's face, yours was completely blank, your soul is literally hiding. He notices it in a way where Yuu slips up and shows a bit of a creepy tendency they like keeping it a secret.

Those notes they wrote and forgot in the grass, under the tree shade, nice and cool.

Uhm... not so nice! Thats a description note, not a love letter. What the heck.

So he reports this to the teachers meeting. Imagine to his disgust and surprise when the other staffs had picked up this specific Yuu behavior they saw with their own eyes. Or some proof of it. How do they tell Crowley that one of his students actually need to get arrested and get expulsion for their behavior? But, then again..

Yuu could use this pitiful 'homeless and exploited' excuse for the entire news to hear about it and spread the next day, risking the headmage's reputation. And that, that scares the headmage. So he may have had to turn a blind-eye for it. And Vargas won't let it slide. He can't hurt students, he knows that. So he'll make sure Yuu gets to struggle a little more in this institution even when thats all in his authority can do.

♡.꒰ ⑅:†· ♡ ·†:⑅ ꒱.♡

Hmmm... now the ghosts you say? Lets say,, they are little shits to Yuu.

Like, I imagine them since they are ghosts, they're very limited on what they can do. So all they can do is slow Yuu down or get in the way while reader runs away or locks themselves in their room. Tbh the ghosts r like Grim, providing comfort BUT can at least be a little bih towards Yuu since, what are they going to do??? Kill the ghosts or smth???💔

If it gets any serious know that they'll always be with you in every step, uhm... even if you go backwards,,, bestie, you gotta talk to someone, look here, see! Your crush wants to talk to you- thats not your crush?? Huh... yeah, okay, sureeee😒

But seriously, they will help you with anything they can, to the best of their abilities.

[regretismyconstantcompanion]

Albus paused mid-motion, a thin slice of ham poised between his fingers and the bread. He glanced back at Harry—not sharply, but with a quiet depth, the sort of gaze that didn’t just see, but observed. Weighed. Measured.

He set the ham down gently, wiped his hands on the towel again, and turned fully to face him.

“I don’t,” he said plainly. There was no attempt at reassurance, no sugar-coating. Just the quiet, unadorned truth. “I don’t know you, Harry. Not really. You’ve appeared from somewhere—or some when—bearing knowledge no one should have, speaking of magic you shouldn't understand yet. You could be lying. You could be dangerous. But—”

He tilted his head slightly, studying the boy in front of him with something far more than suspicion. “I’ve always been… adept at reading people. It’s a talent I’ve come to rely on, sometimes to my own detriment. But last night, on the Bridge… the pain, the fury in you—that wasn’t performance. That was grief. And love. And fear. I’ve seen enough falsehoods in my life to know when something is real.”

His expression softened a little. “Whatever you were facing, whoever you were mourning… it broke through every wall you might have built. I don’t believe anyone could pretend to feel what you were feeling then.” He crossed the room slowly, not looming but present, thoughtful. “When you spoke of Fawkes, of your wand, your parents… your voice didn’t tremble like a liars might. The words rang true. Your affection for Fawkes was real. And when you handed me your wand—freely—that wasn’t just trust. That was instinct.”

He looked down a moment, then back up. “You asked how I could know you weren’t some dark wizard. The truth is, I don’t. But in my experience, dark wizards don’t ask whether they might be one.”

He returned to the counter, assembling the sandwich with deliberate care, but his voice was steady, sincere. “Perhaps I am too quick to trust. That flaws been pointed out before. But trust has to begin somewhere, and I find myself willing to give you mine, whether or not I have the full picture yet.” A pause. Then, quieter, “You carry something heavy, Harry. That much is clear. And you carry it with care.” Albus turned back then, to pick up the plate which held two sandwiches before he handed it to Harry. “That being said, I only said there a light and dark. I never pointed out which side you might be on.” He teased lightly with a small smile and a wink before adding. “More tea?”

Harry x Albus D. Time Travel AU.

@regretismyconstantcompanion

( September 1st, 1910)

The very first thing which Harry Potter became aware of, was the deep seated, open wound that was grief. Even behind closed eyes, the image of Sirius' still laughing face flashed within his mind, as the man fell back through the archway. Harry felt as though his heart had been squeezed within a fire-clad grasp. He wasn't sure he would ever be happy again.

The next thing Harry noticed, was that he was lying down. Which was strange, as aside from the death of his Godfather, the last thing he remembered was being sent via Portkey to Professor Dumbledore's office, with the promise of a long awaited explanation from said Headmaster. Instead, he could feel a prickle beneath his hands, as they flexed against what he realised had to be grass. He was outside. And judging by the lack of light trying to assault his eyes as he opened them, it was sometime after nightfall. He groaned as he inched his head to look to his left, blinking groggily until his vision cleared and he could make out the fringe of what he thought was the Forbidden Forest. At least it appeared he hadn't gone too far from his destination.

Forcing himself up into a sitting position, Harry looked more properly at his surroundings. He was facing towards Hogsmeade, which he could see lit up in the short distance. Leaning on a hand, he twisted his body so that he could look over his shoulder. And sure enough, there was Hogwarts Castle, standing magnificently within her vast grounds.

Something about the castle seemed amiss from where Harry sat, but things always did look eerie in the light of the moon, so he didn't pay too much attention to the disquiet forming in his gut.

Instead, he got to his feet, stumbling a little from the effects of the Portkey. He hasn't felt this unsteady since the summer before last, when he had first been introduced to the concept. Once he was sure he wasn't about to trip over his feet, Harry crossed to the gravel and started his way up the path towards his school.

He wasn't sure what had happened to the Portkey, but he was certain Dumbledore would have some kind of explanation. He usually did after all.

[okjii]

my favorite thing about andreil is that they spent the first two books observing each other like strange bugs in a lab going "mmm how peculiar" at each others every move only to come to the conclusion "wow this dudes 100% not all there. i should be gay about it" and then they are and its the healthiest thing you've ever seen