#I can pretend it was a transporter and not just me right?

[thresholdbb]

Thinking about evil uses of the transporter

Move them every time they go through a door so they hit the frame

Rustle their sheets when they're juuust about to fall asleep

Give them a cavity

Put one of their shoes in the corridor

Put a splinter under their nail

Move their bed back and forth an inch or two every day so they're constantly stubbing their toe

Put pollen straight in their sinuses

Move their tibia slightly out of place so their knee hurts a little when they walk

Open up a tiny hole in their retina

If that's too mean, put an eyelash in their eye

[buckynats]

.

[angelfic]

— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

“Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

© angelfic 2023.

[alltoowelltom]

driving lessons

lando norris x reader

a/n: just wanted to get back into writing and i've gotten super into F1 the last few months

"Alright, y'ready to start?" Lando asks from the passenger seat. 

You hum, running a hand over the gear shift. 

"Yeah. Let's get this shit over with."

Lando chuckles at that, rolling his eyes. It's weird for him, turning his head the other way to look at you in the driver's seat of his McLaren. He usually hates to give up control, especially when driving is involved. 

"You might start to really like it once you get confident." He suggests. "Might even put me out of a job if I'm not careful."

You double check in the rearview mirror one more time. It's a crisp, early morning on a quiet residential street that Lando picked for you to practice your driving in. He's determined for you to pass your upcoming drivers' test and finally get a license. When he'd approached you about teaching you to drive a few weeks ago you'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. 

"I'm sorry if I ask you to drive me around too often," you'd apologised immediately. "You can always say no, I don't mind getting an Uber or catching the train."

"Nah, it's not that, lovie," he'd corrected you, pulling your body closer on the couch and resting his curly head atop of yours. "I like being useful to you and driving you places. I just worry about you when I'm away, there's always so many creeps on public transport. I just want you to be safe."

Your heart had squeezed at his words. Maybe he was right, maybe it was time to finally learn to drive?

"You're all clear." he informed you, twisting around to double check the road behind you. "Just take off the handbrake, put the car into drive and pull into the road, okay?" 

You do as he says, switching on your indicator before pulling out. 

"Oh yeah," he laughs his famously high pitched laugh. "Definitely indicate too, good idea."

"I'm better at this than you already." you laugh. 

You continue to drive along the narrow streets, slowing down to let a stray cat scamper across the road. Lando seems to grow impatient at the pace, motioning for you to speed up a bit, please. 

“I didn’t know this car could go so slowly.” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gonna have to have a word with McLaren about it.”

He directs you to an intersection and you blink at the sight of so many cars whizzing past. 

"Lan, help me," you turn to him with wide eyes. 

"You're fine, love." He grins. "Wait for your gap and then merge the way they're going."

"But they're going so fast." You say. "What if I time it wrong and fuck up your car? This is not the ideal car for someone who can't actually drive."

"This is a great car." he defends. 

"The doors open up instead of out." you deadpan. "This car is out of my league."

He shrugs as he stretches out in his seat, the picture of relaxation. 

"I've added you onto my insurance as a learner driver," he says casually, almost yawning. "It'll be fine." 

You ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his statement and follow his instructions, carefully merging in behind another car. Lando cheers, placing his big hand on your thigh and lightly tracing his fingertips along your inner leg. 

"Stop that!" you shriek, slapping his hand away.

"Huh?" he blinks at you in confusion. "I'm being a loving boyfriend? I love when you have your hand on my leg while I drive, I thought you'd like it too?" he splutters. 

You take one hand off the wheel and bring it to your mouth to hide your laughter. 

"No," you say, cheeks tinged with a pink blush. "I physically can't concentrate on the road when you're touching me. Like I cannot think about anything else but you."

It's Lando's turn to blush now and he turns his face towards his window to hide it, pretending to be oh so invested in the stores you drive past. He knows the effect you have on each other, but it gives him butterflies to be reminded of how you see him. You've only been together a few months and he gets overwhelmed at how quickly you can turn him from a confident, sometimes even cocky guy to a pile of pink mush and hearts in seconds. 

"Right," he blows a puff of air out his cheeks. "You're doing great at this. Maybe we can get you driving the Jolly next?"

thank you for reading! feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[neutronian]

.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

Okay okay, hear me out.

A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3

It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.

He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.

It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.

But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.

Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.

They weren’t too great during missions though.

~

“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.

“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”

“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.

“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.

“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.

“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.

“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.

“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.

“You love me,” you say in turn.

“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.

“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).

“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”

“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.

Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.

“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.

“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.

“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.

“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.

“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.

You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.

“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.

“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.

“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.

“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.

“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.

“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”

“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.

You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.

Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.

“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.

He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.

Quite frankly, it was hot.

So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.

You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.

Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.

“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.

“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.

Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.

"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.

“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.

“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.

“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.

He stares back before sighing.

“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.

“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.

“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.

“That’s different,” he retorts.

“It’s really not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”

“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”

“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.

“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.

“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.

“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”

You just shrug.

“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”

“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).

“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.

“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.

“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.

“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.

“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.

The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.

“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.

His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.

You had never felt anything so right.

“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.

He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.

“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.

“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.

“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.

“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.

“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.

He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

Finally, you felt complete.

~

~

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.

“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes

A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You keep yourself as busy as you can with your friends while your husband is away. Bradley starts to learn that this top secret special mission comes with a very specific set of risks and very few details. But the details he does have make it clear that he's never faced anything like this before.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, masturbation, fluff, mentions of hostages

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You sat in the driver's seat of the Bronco until Bradley's transport was completely out of sight, and you were just squinting into the brightening sky. It was getting late, and you needed to head to work, but the weird mix of emotions inside you was making it hard to even reach for the keys in the ignition and start the engine. 

Bradley was excited about his mission; you knew that for a fact. He couldn't hide it from you when he talked about it, and you wouldn't even want him to. If this is what it was going to take for him to get back into a confident groove at work, then you were happy to send him off into the sky. But it was still impossible not to worry about him. 

You made the trip back home and got yourself dressed in your uniform after you took Tylenol for your cramps. You kissed Tramp and said, "When I get home later, we can watch a movie." Then you took your little red car to work and walked up to your office. 

While Bradley was away, you planned on using this time to catch up with your friends a little bit more. Maria and Cam were the best kinds of friends who could just tell when you needed to focus on your marriage instead of them, but you were really missing those lazy brunches and avocado toast. But Jake was the one you really wanted to have lunch with.

"Sorry, Cat," you murmured to yourself as you walked to the lab. You were ready to force Jake to sit down with you and you alone one day this week, even if that meant asking her nicely to sit at a different table. You still had in the back of your mind the fact that he had other women texting his phone, and you wanted to know what that was all about. 

Cat was the first person you saw when you entered your lab, and while you wanted to talk to her, she was wearing the expensive headphones with her eyes glued to her computer screen, and you knew better than to interrupt. So you waited and texted Jake to see if he was going to be on the ground at lunchtime today. But as soon as Cat removed her headphones, you were there.

"Hey," you said, and she jumped a bit in her seat. 

"Hi," she replied, eyeing you a little suspiciously. "It's pretty early on a Monday morning to be scaring people."

You took a deep breath. "Sorry. Bradley left a few hours ago, and I'm still riding the adrenaline rush."

Her face softened. "That's right. Any idea how long he'll be gone?"

"No clue. But I can already tell he's going to miss his birthday, which is now my favorite day of the year."

She laughed. "That's sweet. Jeremiah's birthday is my favorite day."

You paused and studied her face. "And Jake's birthday? You like that day, too?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Seeing as that's not until October, I haven't had a chance to experience that with him yet."

You wrung your hands together. "Do you think you and he will be experiencing it? Together?"

Cat stood and shook her head at you. "If you're trying to ask me what's going on with Jake, then just ask me what's going on with Jake. You and I can't cut the bullshit with each other now."

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you asked, "Did you ask him about the text messages?"

"Yes," she replied immediately. "At first he pretended not to know what I was talking about, and I promptly grabbed my bag and walked out his front door."

"No," you gasped, your hands curling into angry fists. "He didn't."

"He did," she said calmly, nodding. "I made it all the way out to Uncle Bernie's SUV before he chased me down. I told him to remember that I'm not some twenty one year old he met at the bar, and he told me he's an idiot. So I left."

"When was this?" you asked, completely shocked by Jake. 

"Saturday night." Cat was as calm as anything, and you kind of envied her for it.

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged, and you saw the facade crack the tiniest bit. "Jer is already attached to him. So... that sucks, I guess. I haven't answered Jake's calls, and I haven't decided if I will or not. I needed time to think. I'm honestly a little surprised and annoyed that he isn't in here right now looking for me." Her expression just seemed sad now, and you really wanted to hug her. But Bickel walked in looking for Macy so you decided to just accost Jake yourself when you saw him.

The opportunity arose at lunchtime. "Seresin!" you called out once you had your burrito bowl and hot sauce in your hands. He turned around cautiously as you stormed in his direction. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He smirked. "You'll need to be more specific, Angel."

You glared. "Cut the shit and give me your phone." You set your lunch on an empty table before taking his sandwich container out of his hand. You held out your palm expectantly, and a few seconds later, he handed it to you. When you unlocked his phone and opened his messaging app, you were appalled. Most of the texts were from random numbers, and at least he hadn't responded to any of them, but you were still annoyed. "Why didn't you delete any of these messages?"

Now he was kind of in your face as he hissed, "What's the fucking point? It's not going to make them stop. It'll just make me feel worse when I get more."

You held up his phone. "One girl texted asking if you could come over at three in the morning. Three in the morning, Jake!"

"I know," he said, wrenching his phone back out of your hand. "It was when I was asleep in bed with Cat at Hondo's place. I snuck in the window around midnight just so I could see her, and I read the message when I woke up. It made me want to vomit."

"Well how do you think Cat feels?!" you replied in an outraged whisper. 

"Probably like an idiot," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not doing anything behind her back."

You sighed deeply. "I think she knows that, but you need to make it stop."

"I literally emailed your husband on Sunday night for advice," Jake said, plopping down into a seat at the table and running his fingers through his hair. "He managed to pull you, so he's got to know what he's doing and how I can fix this."

You rolled your eyes and took the seat across from him. "Well if he writes back, take it with a grain of salt. Bradley hardly gives his phone number out to anyone."

"He did write back. He told me after you and he traded numbers, he blocked and deleted everyone else's."

A soft smile found its way to your lips as you thought about Bradley holding his phone the night after you and he first kissed. The idea of him deleting other numbers while he was texting you made butterflies erupt inside you. "Well, you could try doing that," you told Jake. "Either that or get a new phone number. I think that would send the right signal to Cat. If you're still serious."

Jake poked at his sandwich for a few seconds with a scowl on his face, and then he stood, sending the chair screeching a few feet behind him. You watched him walk out of the cafeteria, and when he didn't return, you ate his sandwich and saved your burrito bowl for your dinner instead. You'd eat it at home while you emailed the photographer in Oceanside.

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

Bradley was usually able to get some sleep on the comanche transports, but this time it was too loud and uncomfortable, even with his earplugs. Exhaustion was finally overtaking him as they started to near the US base in South Korea. A nervous energy was thrumming through him. But he did feel more confident knowing that Cyclone and Warlock were running the mission this time, and while he didn't know many of the other aviators personally, he'd heard of all of them. The fact that several of them had been called in from the Atlantic fleet was a little bit alarming and also intriguing to him. 

He quickly learned that the woman sitting across from him was Daphne 'Bluebird' Blue from Lemoore, the pilot he'd filled in for once previously when she'd been injured in a training exercise. Of course that was the same mission Bradley had been lucky to return home from outside of a body bag. Countless stitches, broken bones and lacerations later, you'd nursed him back to health. He wondered briefly if something similar would have happened to Bluebird if she'd flown instead of him. Maybe they were both alive today simply because Bradley had gone in her place. 

The current mission felt like a way for him to bring his confidence fully back. As he walked out of the comanche and then right into a smaller helicopter that was waiting to take them to the aircraft carrier, Bradley ended up sitting next to Bluebird this time. He knew there would be time to meet everyone aboard the carrier, but she had a friendly demeanor. He really wasn't here to make friends though, so he closed his eyes, and luckily this time he was able to fall asleep.

"Rooster." He woke up to Bluebird shaking his arm. "Wake up."

He'd been having the most incredible dream about you, one where you were standing in the backyard singing really badly. Tramp was running around in excited circles and the sun was shining, and when he called out your name, you turned to face him. And you had an adorable baby in your arms. When he looked up at Bluebird with her hand on his arm, he was almost confused. 

"We're on the carrier," she informed him, patting his shoulder before walking out the back of the helicopter. He was alone now, and it was almost quiet, so he took a minute to let his head rest on the nylon netting behind him. The dream felt real to the point that being on the carrier felt foreign now. He rubbed his hands across his face and stood, looking around for his duffle before he walked outside. 

Cyclone was handing out bunk assignments, and thanks to Bluebird, there was an uneven number of males. Bradley got his own bunk. "Get some food, and get some rest," Warlock told the group. "We'll meet tomorrow morning at 0900 to start talking about some mission options."

Bradley's brow scrunched as he followed the labyrinth of hallways in search of his bunk. That was such an odd way to phrase it: start talking about some mission options. It struck him that perhaps he was finally, officially sitting at the proverbial big kids' table. But now he was also a little afraid of exactly what was going to unfold here.

He quickly unpacked his bag and reached for his new notebook, deciding to forego dinner in favor of some quiet and a bigger breakfast in the morning. His thoughts were swirling. He scribbled down a paragraph about Admiral Dean and Slayer, trying to empty his brain of everything negative. He wrote down his feelings about the current mission, and then he paused. 

As he glanced over the page, he realized this notebook wasn't going to be quite like the last one. While he wouldn't hide it from you, it just felt a little different. Then he wrote down the dream he had. This was his notebook, and he wasn't going to change his tactics now. He wrote down everything in as much detail as he could remember. He wrote down the way the sliding glass door felt against his hand and exactly which song the dream version of you had been singing. 

And then he dropped the notebook and pen onto the floor and fell asleep without getting changed. When he woke up, he felt better. The jetlag had confused his body, but luckily he had plenty of time to get himself ready for the day. He ate breakfast alone after a long shower, and then he headed for the classroom. Everyone else seemed a little tense, and Bradley tried to chalk it up to the fact that only the admirals knew what was going on. But frankly they seemed tense as well. 

"Good morning," Warlock greeted everyone with a stern face and a deep voice. The room was absolutely silent for him. "Welcome aboard the USS Nimitz. I'm Admiral Bates, and this is Admiral Simpson. The seven of you have been selected to be here today, simply because you've consistently shown three qualities in your career: you can make good decisions under pressure, you treat your teammates with respect, and you come highly recommended by your superiors. You'll need to employ every bit of your knowledge and skill to make this mission successful. And it is of the utmost importance that we are successful." He paused, and when he spoke again, he was looking directly at Bradley. "Welcome to Operation Loophole."

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

You hadn't heard another word from Jake after lunch on Monday. You'd gone home to Tramp and eaten your burrito bowl before falling asleep on the couch while you tried to watch a movie. Your cramps were so bad, you could barely function, and Bradley wasn't even home to run around and get everything for you. 

"Come on," you said to Tramp as you stood and stretched around midnight. You let him outside and then took your phone to your bedroom while he trotted along behind you. Then you got yourself ready for bed and emailed the photographer who had helped you make Bradley's birthday present last year. She promised she would fit you in again, and you hoped she could take some photos of you this weekend when your period was over and you weren't so bloated.

You curled up in bed after turning the lamp off, and you thought about Bradley. You didn't even know where he was right now. The base in South Korea could be a jumping off point for pretty much anything, and all you could do now was wait and hope for a facetime call. 

After turning your ringer up louder, you eventually fell asleep with Tramp. When you woke up for work, you took your phone everywhere with you. It joined you on the bath mat when you took a shower, and you had it in your pocket as you ate breakfast. You weren't going to miss a call from Bradley this time. 

When you strolled into your lab right on time, Cat was already working, and she had the headphones on again. You tried to settle in to check some code so you could get your submissions out before your deadlines when Jake walked in.

"Angel," he said quietly, and he looked a lot calmer today. His gaze shifted to Cat, and you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. He hesitated, but then she carefully slid the headphones off and set them down next to her keyboard. Jake took a deep breath, and you tried to be discreet as you watched him walk over to her. 

She was looking up at him from her seat, and her expression gave nothing away. Jake said a few words and then handed her the paper before turning and walking away. Now he looked a little apprehensive as Cat read the note over a few times. She jumped up from her seat, and the paper sailed to the floor, landing close to your boot. You picked it up and read it as Cat called out to him and reached for his hand to stop him.

I don't want you to give up on me. 

It was followed by a phone number. Jake's new phone number. You smiled as you watched the two of them kissing out in the hallway. When Cat eventually walked back in, trying her best to contain her smile, she looked around a bit frantically for the note. 

"Here you go," you told her, holding it out. She snatched it from you with a grin and then sat down without a word. 

But a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket with a text from that new number. Angel, come have lunch with Bob, Nat and I today.

You couldn't turn down the invitation. At 12:30, you found yourself holding a lunch tray and sliding into the seat next to Jake as the three of them continued with their discussion as if you'd always been there. 

"I don't want to move to Poway," Bob said as he poked at his salad with his fork. "It will take me forever to get to work, and there's nothing up there anyway. Then you guys will forget about me and stop inviting me to things."

"I never invite any of you to anything," Nat interjected before biting into her cheeseburger. "You all just show up regardless."

"Well, what do you think, Angel?" Jake asked, eating a duplicate of the sandwich you enjoyed yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, but what are we talking about here?" you asked, turning your attention back to Bob when he sighed.

"My landlord is raising my rent," Bob replied. "I'm seriously considering a new place instead of renewing my lease, but nothing I've found seems suitable. And Nat and Jake are very little help."

Nat nodded in agreement, and Jake rolled his eyes. His phone was sitting on his tray, and you saw it light up with a text from Cat. When you met his eyes, he was smiling. 

"Well, Bob," you said, returning your attention to the man across from you, "I will definitely ask around and let you know if I hear of anything that might work out for you. And we could never forget to invite you to things. You're too sweet for that to happen."

"Thank you," he murmured, blushing a bit as he ate a bite of salad. You felt like you owed him a little bit since he'd kept Bradley so calm during that last, painful deployment. He'd given your husband a blank notebook and had taken the time to meditate with him. "How's Rooster's special detachment?"

You shrugged. "No idea. He just left yesterday. I'll be lucky to hear from him at all."

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

The training routine every day for the first week was rigorous, but the really crazy thing was the fact that the admirals still hadn't provided any real details about Operation Loophole. Bradley and the others were in the air working through exercises all morning every morning, and then they were all in the small classroom below deck until late. Oftentimes Admiral Simpson had food delivered to the room as he went over scenarios that didn't quite make sense without all of the information. 

They just kept going over three different scenarios: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Bradley knew them by heart, and he was sure the others did as well. But they weren't being told which one they would be flying for the mission. They were only being told they needed to be able to perform any of the three flawlessly.

On Friday morning at breakfast, Bradley decided to sit with Bluebird. It hadn't escaped him that the seven pilots all gave each other a bit of a wide berth during any sort of free time. He was left to assume that none of them had ever worked together before. He knew he hadn't worked with any of them. Bluebird was from Lemoore, but none of the others were stationed in California at all. Havoc was from Whidbey Island. Jackal was from Key West. Richmond was from Great Lakes. Wilbur was from Norfolk. Dugout was from Pensacola. 

"Are you starting to get the feeling they're withholding information from us?" Bradley asked as he took a seat. 

Bluebird looked up from her book and laughed. "Are you starting to get the feeling we might never know what's really going on?"

"Shit," Bradley muttered, dousing his eggs in hot sauce just like you would. "If they don't say something soon, I'm going to start begging for information. At first it was exciting to be part of this whole thing, but now, I'm not so sure."

"I completely agree," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Maybe the seven of us can pull together and riot."

She and Bradley walked side by side down the long corridor to the classroom without speaking, but it wasn't unpleasant. He didn't mind being alone with his thoughts right now, but it was especially nice to know he wasn't the only one who was frustrated here. 

"Close the door behind you," Cyclone barked at Bradley. Everyone else was already seated as the door clicked shut, and Bradley found a seat as well. "Since you've proven you can fly the Alpha, Beta and Gamma scenarios to the highest level of perfection, let's talk a little more about Operation Loophole."

Bradley leaned forward a bit in his seat as Warlock turned off the lights, and the projector at the back of the room lit up the front wall. 

"While giving you the barest amount of information possible," Cyclone started, "I'd like you to memorize what you see here."

Bradley looked at the aerial view of a city and the suburbs beyond. Then the image zoomed in on a small cluster of buildings before zooming further to one building with a dark green roof. He tried to take in every detail of where it looked like the front door opened up directly onto the sidewalk and the fact that there didn't appear to be any other buildings connected to it. The more he examined things, an uneasy feeling started to fill him up. And then he realized that he was looking at a live satellite feed as a motorbike rode past the building.

"This structure is currently housing five hostages. One is American. The other four are from allied countries. As far as our intelligence shows, they've been inside for fifty eight days."

Bradley had to fight the desire to look around the room as dread settled into his stomach. They were going to aid in a hostage extraction. He already knew what this meant. How dangerous it was going to be. 

"Six of you will be chosen. One of you will remain on standby. There is no margin for error. You will be flying unmarked jets. You will be wearing unmarked flight suits. Communication with the carrier will be at short range only. Communication with each other will be through code only. Nobody can know who we are or where we came from or what our country of origin is. You will not fire a single weapon. You will not take a single hit. You will be perfect."

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

Early on Saturday morning, you left your house with your hair and makeup looking flawless. There was literally a suitcase full of your clothing and lingerie in the back of the Bronco as you drove it along the coastal highway, and you were singing along loudly to one of Bradley's playlists. His birthday was next weekend, but you hadn't heard a word from him since he left. You couldn't hold out too much hope that he'd be back in time, because you didn't want to be disappointed later. At least his birthday present would be ready for him whenever he got home.

This year you decided to incorporate Bradley's beloved Bronco into his birthday calendar. Yesterday after work, you spent hours washing and cleaning it up so the blue paint absolutely shined. The idea of becoming a pinup model for the second year in a row was making you antsy to get the photo shoot over with, but he'd told you explicitly how much he wanted another calendar. And you often caught him flipping through the one you made last year when he was supposed to be working out in the garage.

You were smiling by the time you arrived at the rocky overlook a few miles outside of Oceanside, and Flora, the photographer you met last year, was already there. "You look like you're ready for the spotlight," she said as she shook your hand.

"I'm nervous," you told her with a shrug.

"You were nervous last year, and the calendar turned out perfectly. And this time, we've got gorgeous weather and a natural backdrop. It'll be great."

You took a deep breath and got to work. She had you pose all around and inside the Bronco, and she had you move it a few times so it was facing different directions. Once again you brought Bradley's aviators, and they made it into a few photos. Flora helped you discreetly get changed into different outfits even though there was nobody around to see. She took photos of you in your honeymoon bikini leaning back against the hood as well as some in your denim shorts and red bra while you sat on the tailgate. So many poses, you couldn't keep track.

As she scrolled through the photos, examining the screen on her camera in the sunlight, she casually asked, "How do you feel about going topless?"

You pressed your lips together. If you did, Bradley was going to have to make sure nobody else saw it. But you already knew he would lose his shit. In a good way. "Okay, but you'll have to make next June the topless month."

"Sure," she replied as you looked around in every direction before unclasping your bra.

A few hours later, you were dressed in a simple sundress and walking into the usual restaurant for a late brunch. You slid into the booth next to Cam and across from Maria, and you were thankful there was already a mimosa waiting for you. Flora insisted the photos looked perfect, but you were still a little antsy over the state of the calendar.

"I'm starving," Cam whined, signaling for the waitress to come back. "Do you know what you want?"

"I literally just got here," you told him as you sipped your drink.

"You always get the same thing anyway," he murmured. "Both of you do." You could tell he was getting hangry by the way he ordered for all three of you when the waitress came back. "One French toast with berries. One avocado toast with bacon. One western omelette with extra hashbrowns." Then he aggressively bit into a piece of the cinnamon toast that the waitress left on the table. 

"You're in a snippy mood," you told him, and then you realized that Maria was staring at her phone. "What's your problem?" 

Cam sighed and chewed up the rest of the toast. "I'm starving, first of all. Second, I think my boss is going to promote me next cycle, which is great, but I also feel like a dick, because I kind of want to switch labs. And third, Maria won't stop whining."

"I'm not whining!" she whined, rolling her eyes. 

Great. You had to be the parent today. "Well, congratulations?" you said to Cam and he just ate more toast in response. Then you looked at Maria and asked, "What's got you so upset?"

She set her phone down, and you could tell she was apartment hunting. "Rochelle is moving out. Her boyfriend got a bigger place, and she's moving in with him. She pulled a you."

You grimaced and muttered, "Sorry." 

She waved you off. "It's fine. She wasn't that great anyway. But I can't afford two bedrooms alone when everyone else around me is getting married and getting promotions and raises except me," she said blandly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Cam downed his mimosa in one go, but you were still looking at Maria. "Hey... you remember Bob Floyd? Phoenix's backseater?"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache and his parade of hot friends," Cam mumbled, and you elbowed him to be quiet.

Maria had a faraway look in her eyes now. "Bob Floyd. He always smells nice."

Cam nodded in agreement. And you nodded in agreement as well. "He does always smell nice," you whispered, thinking about the last time you hugged Bob. 

"Anyway, what about Bob?" Maria asked, still fidgeting with her phone. 

You smiled. "He's looking for a new place."

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

Bradley was in his bunk, getting undressed after dinner when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he asked, opening it up to reveal a petty officer. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

"Yeah?" Bradley repeated, buttoning his shirt up again.

"If you want to make a call, there are some free iPads in the communication room. I saw your name on the list."

"Oh," he murmured, quickly tucking in his shirt again and following him out the door. "Thanks."

Bradley's heart was pounding erratically. After you missed his call last deployment, he had gotten so frustrated, and you'd gone to talk to Dr. Genevieve. He was trying to do some quick math to determine what time it was back home, but he was already in the room. He felt flustered as he was given a tablet and a private spot to sit. As quickly as he could, he entered your number, hoping to have as much time to talk to you as he could. 

Just a few seconds later, you answered with a loud, "Roo!" Bradley saw your face for a few seconds before you dropped your phone. Then there was a string of curse words before you picked it up again. "Bradley?!" you asked in a panicked voice.

"I'm here, Baby Girl."

You squealed with delight, and Bradley realized you were standing halfway in and halfway out of the shower. You were completely naked, and you looked like perfection as you asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he replied, knowing there was no way he could share any classified details about his mission with you. He was going to have to keep you talking about yourself as much as possible. "I miss you so much. How are you? How's Tramp?"

"Good!" you gushed, moving under the shower spray and holding your phone out away from you as you rinsed off. Bradley was completely distracted by your wet tits as you said, "I had brunch with Cam and Maria on Saturday, and Nat and I got our nails done. But I miss you. Did you fly yet?"

"Not yet," he rasped as you stood in the far corner of the steamy shower and smiled at your phone. "God, you look good."

Your smile grew as you leaned against the tile wall, bringing your free hand up to touch your breasts, and he could see his wedding ring on your necklace chain. "Do you know when you'll be home? Can you tell me about your mission?" you asked softly as the sound of the shower somehow calmed Bradley's nerves as you wound him up a little bit.

He just grunted. "I'd rather watch you, Sweetheart."

And you fucking let him. Your fingers with your pretty manicured nails brushed along your nipples as you sighed his name. He had no idea how he's gotten this lucky in life, as you treated him to those pretty fingers on your clit and slipping inside your pussy just for him. He watched you masturbate, and he turned the volume down when you got loud. His hand was resting on his cock as he grew harder for you, the sounds you made echoing through the shower enclosure. 

"Baby Girl," he groaned softly as he watched your face on the screen as you came. Perfect. You looked perfect. His mind flashed back to the dream he had as he looked at your face, relaxed and sated. 

"Tell me how much you miss me, Roo," you whispered breathlessly. So Bradley waxed poetic about your body and your voice and how he couldn't get comfortable in bed without you. He made you laugh, and his cock stayed hard as you licked your lips. 

And then he was told he had a minute left. "Hey, listen," he told you softly. "Time's almost up. I don't know when I'll be flying or when I'll be home, but I think this is going to be a crazy one, okay?"

"Okay," you said, apprehension creeping into your voice. 

"But I'm doing great here. I'm ready for anything. So there's no need to worry. I'll be home soon."

"I love you, Bradley."

"I love you so much, Sweetheart."

Bradley felt like he was still in a bit of a daze as he returned to his bunk. He thought about jerking off to the videos you and he made on his phone, but he barely had his shirt off when there was another sharp knock on his door. He answered in just his uniform pants. It was Bluebird, and the sight of her wearing her unmarked, black flight suit added to the adrenaline already coursing through his body. 

"Get changed into your black suit. It's time to go."

She moved down the hallway, knocking on another door, and it took Bradley a few seconds to pull his thoughts together. It was mission time. It must be dark out on deck now. He would be flying at night. He took a minute to breathe deeply the way Bob taught him, and then he got changed. 

He was the last one to walk into the classroom, and it felt so strange to have no identifying clothing or patches on his person at all, especially when the admirals were dressed for a normal day. "Have a seat," Warlock announced, and then he turned the lights out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. "You'll be flying tonight in these conditions. Your eyesight will do little to help you beyond seeing what's on your radar readouts. Rely on your teammates and your instincts instead."

Then the projector clicked on while Bradley's heart pounded. Cyclone was at the front of the room, signaling for the satellite image to be zoomed in further and further. "Our sources on the ground relayed useful intelligence in the last hour. The hostages are most likely being transported around midnight, potentially to an execution site. SEAL Team 7 is ready just off the coast aboard the USS Charleston. You will provide a distraction for the SEAL team, enabling them to penetrate the building and perform an extraction before the hostages can be moved. Two of you will protect a comanche helicopter crew providing imaging for the SEAL team. Four of you will lure enemy aircrafts out over the water and away from the military base located here." 

The image on the wall zoomed out and back in on an airstrip located not too far away from the hostages. Bradley listened as Cyclone told them their current coordinates, the coordinates of the base, and the coordinates of the hostages. "You need to keep the enemy aircrafts away from the Charleston and keep the comanche crew out of danger. Bluebird, you're the team leader for the comanche protection. Wilbur, you fly with Bluebird." Cyclone turned to look at Bradley as he said, "And Rooster, you'll lead the team composed of Havoc, Richmond and Dugout to lure the enemy jets out over the water. Any questions?"

Cyclone nodded at Richmond when he raised his hand, "Sir, are we following flight plan Alpha, Beta or Gamma?"

Cyclone shook his head. "None of the above. You'll be flying flight plan Omega, and we're going to make it up right now."

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

Bradley is out there on the mission of a lifetime. More action coming soon. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[riacte]

"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.

False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.

"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."

False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.

"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."

Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."

False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."

Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,

"I'm a lot of work."

Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.

"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."

Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"

False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."

Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"

"Then we won't be normal."

"What if I want to be normal?"

"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."

Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."

False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"

He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"

False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."

"No?"

"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."

"Hey!"

"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."

Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"

False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."

"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."

False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"

"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."

"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."

Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."

False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."

She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.

(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)

Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."

"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"

False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.

"— but that's why I do it."

[icallhimjoey]

i really loved the magic of joe hanging out in the bookstore, being his anonymous little self, just reading a book in his armchair, happy to be allowed a warm beverage...................... can we have more of him?

jfc stab me where im softest, why dont you Wordcount: 2.1K

---

Little Spoon Reversed

"Please, before you leave," you spoke to Anne who slung an arm into her jean jacket. "Never forget your headphones ever again, please?"

You couldn't finish the question without laughing already. It earned an eye roll from Anne, who then turned to Joe who was sat in his armchair, book in his lap, but eyes on the two of you.

For a short moment Anne gave Joe a look as if to say, this bitch, am I right? But then before she fully committed, she remembered that Joe would likely take your side on this, like he would take your side on... well, anything, basically.

"I'm aware you don't enjoy... people, but–"

"If I can follow your whole conversation about how you enjoy being a little spoon over being a big spoon, you're talking too loud to be allowed on public transport." Anne stated matter of factly.

She stared into space a second and the shuddered. Joe gave you a look of wild concern, smile playing just underneath, and you laughed.

Anne was being Anne and you loved her, and Joe was being Joe and... well.

You liked Joe.

Joe was funny.

Joe made you laugh.

And Joe looked nice. Sat there.

He looked nice sitting there, in your bookstore.

He just... he did.

All soft.

Hair unstyled. Clothes mismatched. Blue of his denim jacket somehow doing something for the colour of his skin.

Nice. Joe looked nice.

The look of him kind of completed the room just by sitting his ass down in your granddad's armchair. You'd make him a coffee in a second. Keep him there for longer.

When Anne turned to look at him, he immediately dropped the facial expression and just gave her a tiny nod. Dryly said, "Nice jacket." which made her notice how they were both wearing a similar one.

Anne scrunched her nose to that, absolutely grossed out by it.

Joe gave you a small smirk that Anne pretended she didn't catch.

"Headphones!" you made big eyes at her, and she dismissed it with a wave of her hand as she turned to leave the store.

Anne's neutral was already negative to begin with, but when she'd walked in that morning, she'd basically carried thunder in her aura and you'd had to stick her in the back to do admin because she couldn't stop going on about her bad morning.

You couldn't take it too seriously though; the reason her morning had been bad was because she had to listen to people talk on a bus.

She was fine.

But Anne was Anne, and after a very ranty first thirty minutes of her shift, throughout the rest of day she would have moments where she'd suddenly shudder, grimace and mutter "Little spoon," under her breath, like it was the most disgusting thing she'd ever heard people talk about in public.

Intimacy? Vile.

You and Joe shared knowing smiles, and Anne already had one foot out the door when Joe called her back.

"Hey, Anne?"

She paused, barely turned her head, and waited for Joe to talk.

"Which one are you?"

Joe saw her frown in confusion, which only made his smirk grow. He was about to piss her off so bad.

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

He was right. You barked a loud laugh as Anne raised her middle finger up at him before the door shut behind her.

"She's so lovely." Joe smiled, and that only made you laugh more as you found your spot behind the counter.

You were never going to tire of how bitchy Joe and Anne could be to each other, all bark no bite.

"She really is." you agreed, laughter turning into a sigh, eyes falling onto clutter left beside the till.

You had work to do; there were piles of books that needed to find their way onto display tables and up onto shelves.

Your eyes flickered from work to Joe, and you noticed he was still looking at you. Sort of dopily staring, still grinning. You liked that denim jacket on him.

Joe looked good.

"What are you reading?"

Joe's eyes lingered on you a moment longer before he fully registered that you'd asked him a question.

"Oh!" he seemed startled by the book in his lap, like he'd forgotten his hands had been holding onto it for the brief moment of distraction. He lifted it up to show you the cover.

You knew what he was reading already, but any excuse for some small talk whilst you sorted through some paperbacks.

"Do you like it?"

"Yea, actually... it's good, it's– it's... relatable? Even though it's not, because none of these things have ever happened to me, but, you know what I mean? Like, I–, I don't know, I get it, I guess... it's... it's just, it's interesting."

Joe stumbled through finding the right words to tell you that, simply, the writing was good, and it made you purse a smile as you sorted through some novels.

"That's good," you stuck a pile of books under an arm. "I'm glad you like it."

"Yea," Joe said, eyes on a page that he then turned, scanning his eyes over the words, but not reading any of them. He was glad he liked it too, but even if the book hadn't been as enjoyable to read as this one was, he still would've enjoyed his time there just the same. It was never about the books for him.

Which was why it was so easy to put it down when he saw you getting ready to climb up a ladder with an armful of them.

He didn't even have to say anything.

Just put his book down on the small sidetable, got up and walked over, hands already held out to take the pile of books from you.

"Sorry," you said, like this was an inconvenience to Joe.

It wasn't.

Joe got to be close to you, fingertips grazing the skin of your arm as he helped you out. Got your hands free so you could actually hold onto the ladder. Safety first.

"I should've maybe done this whilst Anne was still in."

And then he got a close look at your ass as you ascended the ladder just next to him, which wasn't his fault, mind you. You literally hauled it up right into his line of sight.

It had never been about the books for him.

"Are these new ones?" Joe turned his head to read the title of the book on top of the pile before picking it up and handing it to your awaiting open palm.

"No, just ones people take down to have a look at and then leave around. Thanks."

Joe did that a lot.

"Sorry." he said jokingly, taking all blame for the mess.

That made you laugh.

"That's okay. Part of running a bookstore."

It was quiet then for a moment. Just Joe handing you books that you put back into their places. When he passed you the last one, you were about to climb down, but Joe decided he could help for a little longer.

"These ones too?" he rounded the counter like he wasn't allowed to step behind it and pointed at another stack of them.

"Yea," you smiled. "Thanks."

You'd gone well past feeling uncomfortable for accepting a little bit of Joe's help. Joe knew his place when Anne was in, or when there were other customers browsing, but when it was just the two of you inside these shelf-cladded walls, Joe could lend a hand.

You'd tell yourself it was just Joe being nice because you gave him a lot of free coffee.

Joe knew better.

"So, what about you?"

"Hmm?"

You looked down from your spot up on the ladder, and saw how Joe read the title of the book he was about to give you before he outstretched his arm and made eye-contact.

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

Your fingers grazed as you took the book from him and you nearly let a smile escape you, but Joe wasn't smiling and dressed it as casual, but serious question. Like he genuinely wanted to know.

"Um," you pretended to give it a good think. "I'll go for... little spoon I guess."

It helped that you got to faff around with a bunch of paperbacks on a shelf and didn't have to look him in the eye when you asked, "You?"

"Oh," Joe said, frowning like the answer was obvious. "I'm a big fan of both."

This was information that you couldn't Google.

You kind of loved it.

"Yea?"

Another book got passed.

"Oh yea, sometimes, you want to cuddle someone. Other times you want to be cuddled, you know?"

If Anne had still been in, she'd have made a request for someone to shoot her by now.

"Well," you started, feeling brave. "Can I introduce you to," you paused for effect. "Little spoon reversed?"

You were about to reach down for the book Joe was holding up, but he slowly lowered it, staring up at you with big bulging eyes.

"Little spoon what?"

"Reversed." you easily said, smiling and taking a step down to grab the book from Joe's hands.

"Please elaborate." Joe acted like you'd just told him the most shocking piece of information ever.

"It's all in the word. It's being the little spoon," you held up two cupped hands, one turned so the back rested in the other's palm and then turned one, so your palms faced each other. "But reversed."

Joe looked a little mesmerized.

You shrugged and dropped your hands. "Best of both worlds."

"Best of both worlds..." Joe repeated. "Huh."

"You get to hug and be hugged," you said, holding a hand open for another book.

Joe stared into space as he passed it. Thinking.

"Kind of... equal spoons, then," he mused.

"Well, no. Not exactly. There's still a big spoon and a little spoon."

You glanced down and smiled at how Joe seemed to be honestly interested, not at all making fun or being silly about this topic. He was learning.

"Please, elaborate."

"The little spoon is whoever gets to press their face into the neck of the other. Of the big spoon."

Joe's knees nearly gave out at that. It was a crime how casually you'd just said that.

"Yea... no, yea." Joe cleared his throat. "That makes sense."

The bell above the door rang, and you both turned your heads like you'd just been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing. Which was exactly right. Joe didn't work there, you had no business having him help you out like this.

"Good afternoon!" you cheerily exclaimed at the customer that had just walked in, and accepted the last book from Joe's hands.

Joe felt a little silly with how he felt his neck flush at the thought of having you in his bed to cuddle up with. Have your face pressed into the crook of his neck. Or, worse - have his face pressed right into yours.

God.

He was fantasizing about cuddling, getting all hot and bothered.

Was he fourteen years old?

You gave the shelf in front of you a last look before making your way back to the floorboards, ladder held sturdy in place by Joe's hands, and when you were back at eye level, you gave Joe a nod and a smile.

"So...? If you had to choose one?"

Joe tried to hide a smile and looked at his feet for a moment.

"Big spoon or little spooon?"

"I think you've sold me on little spoon reversed."

"Yea?"

"Best of both worlds." Joe said proudly, like he was the one who'd drawn that conclusion himself.

"Hmm. It's a good choice."

"Yea?"

"Yea."

You looked at each other a moment too long, both still with hands on the ladder you were stood next to. In a true moment of weakness, you let your eyes flick down to his neck. To the skin in between the collar of his jacket and, yea all right, so you were imagining it. Like that was your fault. How could you not, exactly?

You saw Joe's throat work as he swallowed, and when your eyes moved back up to meet his, something had changed there.

Maybe Joe shouldn't wear that jacket again, because you felt how your body wanted to sway forward.

Little spoon reversed.

A loud scraping of someone's throat broke the spell.

"Excuse me, um, do you work here?"

Joe smirked just before you pulled your eyes away from him.

Little spoon reversed.

"Yes ma'am, how can I help you?"

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[speirslore]

when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]

a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck

[dick winters]

you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed

it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm

he wants to be strong and level-headed for you

shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side

he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you

but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...

he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why

whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)

which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol

very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you

is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says

he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it

you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down

he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand

in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3

[lewis nixon]

it does not look good at first

it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness

lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it

but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay

starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything

lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk

he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting

he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it

one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"

he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."

they back off after that

does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there

because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him

but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand

you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"

after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)

and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile

[ron speirs]

okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope

by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...

he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink

but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm

it just absolutely wrecks him

the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself

the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you

for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong

but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this

ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe

even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet

he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them

he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word

like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors

this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!

you have to comfort him and his voice breaks

and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around

"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything

"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this

[carwood lipton]

unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break

your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia

it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it

lip really tries to be comforting

and wants to be there for you and he is!

but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay

trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him

and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz

it's a MESS

but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life

it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy

but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable

you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets

kind of a bonding experience

you just laugh because what the fuck

it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together

you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war

"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest

he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3

[buck compton]

buck... does not take it well

he takes it extremely hard

like his reaction to joe and bill...

you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne

and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days

maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war

but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one

it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough

when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital

so his presence is silent reassurance

you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you

but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened

you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much

both of you have been through hell

but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way

buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war

he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck

[eugene roe]

gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse

and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else

he decides it's awful... definitely worse

the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face

and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable

and life just goes on...

a lot of pacing and murmuring

gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal

and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."

prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england

when you both felt some semblance of normalcy

he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment

it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety

whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you

and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update

winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you

likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way

gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay

[lurkingshan]

I have been thinking about @bengiyo's point about the way the set up of Love Sea allows Fort and Peat to play with their established dynamic, and wanted to expand on why I liked it so much. I already tossed off a facetious post about this while watching the other day, but let me be clear: I am so serious about the class disparity in this show and how it shifts the power dynamics behind the typical MAME pursuer behavior.

Mahasamut is a working class man who has been hired by a mutual friend to watch over Tongrak--providing him with transportation, housing, entertainment, and whatever else Rak wants. He is doing a job, and that knowledge is explicit between them. Most people would be kind to someone who is providing a service as a guide and caretaker, but from the moment he arrives, Rak treats Mut with disdain, as Ben details in his post. Rak is a prick who looks down on the place he is staying and the people in it. He assumes Mut can't understand him and makes rude and disrespectful comments right in front of his face. He assumes he can get anything he wants from Mut by throwing piddling sums of money at him. He assumes he can use Mut for sex. And so Mut plays the part Rak has assigned him.

Every instance of Mut being sarcastic or antagonistic toward Rak in this first episode is a direct response to how Rak is treating him. Rak assumes he can't communicate with him, so Mut continues speaking in a Southern dialect. Rak assumes he can buy him, so Mut teases him about stuff he can pay him for. Rak assumes Mut wants to have sex with him and he can use that to control him, so Mut fully puts on a "dumb local" performance and pretends to be amazed at his pale and hairless body (and yes, he also invokes colorism in that act, which I do not think was at all accidental, it's part of the point). Every moment of this is informed by their class disparity, the way Rak looks down on him for it, and the way Mut refuses to bow to that.

As all of this is going on, Mut is also genuinely taking care of Rak and doing the job he has been paid to do. And the incident on the boat was not an intentional instance of messing with Rak--he just went to get some clams and had no way to know that Rak would panic like that. As soon as he saw Rak was genuinely upset, he dropped the antagonism and comforted him, even apologizing for scaring him. Mut has good intentions and is doing what he has been asked to do while also not allowing an arrogant rich man to treat him like dirt. Rak is the person holding the true power in this pairing, and he need only treat Mut like a human being to get the same in return.

Let me just add as a final note that this is not the first time MAME has added a new layer to this antagonistic pursuer dynamic she tends to prefer in her romances. Wedding Plan was all about taking that dynamic and motivating it by a genuine queer experience, and I am glad to see her stories continuing to evolve.

[spacexseven]

foreigner darling crying while desperately typing into their phone because they don’t any japanese or english, etc. 1) their yandere is a bastard and fucking with them, fully knowing they don’t know the language. 2) the yandere is also struggling and they a dictionary that’s highlighted with translations. 3) the yandere didn’t think this one through and is now acting as if they knew about the barrier. - garfield anon (hello!)

(1) jouno thinks it's funny. here you were, clearly confused and trying your best to communicate with him, but apart from sobs and pleadings of 'please let me go', he can hardly make out your other words. it didn't matter, anyway. this was fine too, you just had to calm down before he could set down some ground rules. he also finds it hilarious when he's talking to you in japanese, knowing you don't understand a single thing, threatening to kill you or your loved ones or telling you about how long he's been watching you and you're just staring at him wide-eyed; isn't that expression far too cute for this?

(1) fyodor wishes you didn't cry so much. if he wanted you to cry in the corner, your phone long abandoned after he had only laughed at your pathetic attempts at trying to talk to him, then he could have done a hundred other things apart from bringing you to a nice room and taking care of you. he understands everything you're saying, of course, but still pretends not to, cocking his head to the side when you ask him why he's done this and glaring at you when you ask his name. it was a little amusing to see you second guess your every word and try to recall any words from any language you knew. only after a month of captivity, when you start, on the brink of losing your mind, telling him about your name and likes and dislikes, he smiles at you, and says "i know", clear as day. the shock on your face is his favorite expression yet.

(2) so maybe chuuya overestimated his linguistic abilities. it was fine! he had dictionaries and the internet just for this. he gets by using the resources on hand, and you're surprisingly pretty well receptive to his attempts, and even point out the words you're saying when he doesn't understand you. things were going a lot better than he thought, until one day you ask him if he can please help you escape and that he can come with you so whoever hired him won't hurt him, you promise to help, and he realizes you had no idea just why you were here. he does consider telling you the truth, but it was a lot nicer to have you trust him and stick by him, so ultimately he decides that can wait. for now, he'll go along with your silly idea.

(2) dazai thought he had all the important words covered, but now you're screaming at him so loudly that he can't comprehend a single word coming out of your mouth. he offers you the dictionary and a pencil, clearly telling you to please circle the words you're using but instead, you throw it back at him and scream some more. not knowing what else to do, he starts speaking to you in gibberish. it works, almost, because you go eerily quiet to listen to him before going back to screaming and throwing things at him (because now it sounds like he's mocking you). oh well, time to sign up for those classes!

(3) nikolai didn't think it'd be this hard to get the message across. surely, using his overcoat to transport you here was enough for you to understand that this was a kidnapping? well, he didn't understand what you were saying either, but he was mostly sure that you said the words 'money', 'who' and 'why' at least thrice now. living together when neither of you understood the other couldn't be that bad, right? he uses pictures of an amusement park and a handy app to ask you if you'd like to go out and that he will drag you back screaming if you tried to run, and the horror on your face is all he needs to know you understood him clear as day. see, not that hard!

[r0ttenhearts]

I know who you pretend I am

sypnosis: in which scaramouche sees his deceased lover in you

warnings: angst, established relationship, no comfort, fem reader

you couldn’t begin to imagine how you found yourself in this.. position. being the famed balladeers lover. through his harsh remarks, you found a broken, sometimes gentle, man. you did your best to mend his heart when tears would escape his eyes deep in the night. another nightmare, he’d always whisper as he hugged your form from behind. of course you’d console him. he was your lover after all. but a few times, admist his tears and sleepy eyes, he’d call out another name. a name you didn’t recognize.

“mia.. don’t go..”

your nose would scrunch up every time you heard his calls for a woman you didn’t know. who was she to him?

so today you sought out nahida, the one who would hold the answers to your questions. the anxiety gnawing at your bones as you met her in the big green room you’d usually see her speaking with scaramouche in.

you held onto the strap of your satchel, slowly approaching her as you bow.

“lesser lord kusanali, i request answers to my questions that have been troubling me for quite some time. it pertains to your scholar, scaramouche. though, i’m aware he wouldn’t like me prodding in his past.. i just need to know. please.”

nahida nodded, understanding your predicament as well as the very reason you came to her today.

“very well. i shall grant you your request.”

you were transported to irminsul, a bright glowing tree stood before you as you heard nahida’s instructions. you silently pleaded for his forgiveness before touching the tree.

suddenly you were in a room you couldn’t recognize. scaramouche laid on a futon, dressed in clothes you didn’t recognize. a white yukata and a purple garb covering his head, his eyes closed.

“kabuki! are you awake?”

your head snapped to the door where a sweet voice called for scaramouche. her (h/c) locks framing her face, swishing with her movements as she kneeled by scaramouches side. you eerily took notice at how.. similar she looked like you. her hair the same color as yours, styled similarly to how you would do your hair, her features were even similar to yours..

“creepy..” you mumbled to yourself as you watched scaramouche wake up. he rubs his eyes tenderly, slow blinks as he looks at the girl who resembles you.

“mia! you’re back!”

he throws his arms around her, embracing her in a way he’d never embraced you. jealousy knots in your throat as he pulls back from the hug, staring up at her owlishly. perhaps they were just friends? that would make you feel better about this whole ordeal if that’s all it was. so they must be! right?

you watch as scaramouche’s cheeks tint pink before he leans up and plants his lips against hers. her hand gently cups his cheek as they deepen the kiss.

shock bubbles through you. they were lovers? why hadn’t he ever mentioned her? you leave the memory before you can see anymore, thanking nahida for her help as you briskly leave.

tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you run to scaramouche’s office. you only had one burning question in your mind now.

is it me? or is it her you’re seeing?

you didn’t bother knocking, throwing open the doors as his scowl meets your eyes.

“(y/n)? what are you doing here? are you that—“

“you miss mia? don’t you scara?”

his eyes widen at the name. mia? how did you find out about her?

“mia ? who’s mia? what are you blabbering about now?”

he’s lying and you can see it, the way he looks to the side, not meeting your eyes. you scoff, coming up to his desk as you slam your hands down in front of him.

“kabuki right? i saw you both when i went to your memories in irminsul. don’t lie to me scaramouche. don’t you dare.

i know how you call out for her in the night. i saw how you looked at her. just..” you sighed out shakily, tears brimming your eyes once again.

“do you see her when you look at me?”

“i do. that’s the sole reason why i’m with you.”

you slowly back away, holding your hands to your chest as you stare into his cold, unwavering stare.

“you resemble her, you’re just like her. i love her through you, though it’s been hundreds of years. the way you react to things i do is the same as she once did. but she was.. more gentle than you are. that’s why i lose my patience with you so often. you can’t play your role well enough.”

he scoffs, leaning back in his chair and waving his hand.

“if you’re no longer interested then i’d suggest you leave.”

without a word, you leave his office as his words ring in your ear. your whole relationship was a lie. none of it was real, nothing, not even for a second. you couldn’t have been her, you were your own person. how could someone that no longer breathes still win his heart? you had been there with him through so much, and she only for a brief moment of his life?

angry tears leaked from your eyes as you took your few belongings from your shared home. if he didn’t want you for you, then he could rot alone. you left without leaving a note. every trace of you gone.

scaramouche came home to an empty house that night, the cold sheets he laid in a reminder of what he had done. curling up into a ball, tears in his lashes as he called out your name.

taglist; @samarill @kaoriee

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Oh my god you guys, you are soooo going to hate me, or maybe love me for this....? So.... this guy reached out to me on Instagram and he's a really famous photographer. Apparently he's doing a whole gallery about artistically showing really dramatic and inspiring detransition journeys.... So, trans men going from intelligent, handsome dudes with full beards to basically big-boobed trad wives pregnant with quintuplets, IQs lowered to the 50s. And of course he's cataloguing trans girls going from looking like me to big, macho, muscular men, with full beards, huge cocks..... He said it's OK if I don't want to detrans, a lot of the people he reaches out to have no interest in detransitioning personally, but decide to just to participate in his project. Soooo, don't kill me..... I agreed to join!

I actually have considered detransing off and on in the past, to see what male puberty would feel like, to see my cock get nice and big, and of course every trans girl's biggest fantasy: to cum like a man and shoot a dozen ropes of cum in a row. He showed me his t-girl models. Such gorgeous girls! Huge natural boobs, fat asses, the prettiest faces you can imagine. Most of them had no interest at all in detransitioning and were just flattered by his offer. We get paid, too, which is nice. What finally convinced me is he had a former trans guy message me, this sweet girl who still sounded kinda like a boy from all the T, who looked divine. Super curvy, breasts about as big as mine, full of milk, pregnant with sextuplets, long silky hair, a giggling mess with a huge smile. She teased me, telling me how much more fun I'd have fucking former fake-boys like her than being a girl. She asked me if I ever shoved my cock in a girl's pussy and got her pregnant. Of course I haven't. She teased me about being an impotent fake-girl. That I needed to work out, get muscular, lose my oversized moobs, grow my cock to over a foot long..... embrace being male.

Not going to lie, I jerked off during our exchange and came sooooo hard, for a fake-girl, anyway. I wanna take T and detrans so bad. I wanna get girls pregnant. I need to stop playing dress up and showing off the silly cow-tits I made my poor male body grow. It's time I lose them, bulk up, and become a hairy alpha guy who can lift girls like me right off our feet and fuck us senseless! I need to fuck gorgeous pregnant college girls and get lots of girls pregnant--especially poor misguided fake-boys. It's time I embrace being a man and give up on being such silly imitation of a girl, who gets morning wood and stares at girl's fat titties..... who jerks off ten times a day watching hardcore porn of girls getting put in their place, face-fucked, gang banged, used and abused as girls should be. I'm not some silly fake-girl who jiggles her ridiculous, estrogen-bloated boy-tits at people, hoping to get fucked in the ass by desperate guys. I should be an alpha, mocking fake-girls like me for our pathetic little hard cocks bulging out of our skirts and dresses because pretending to be a girl makes us soooo hard!

I hope you guys aren't too mad. This photographer really showed me who I'm meant to be. I can't wait to lose these stupid-looking boy-tits and finally become a man! My OnlyFans content will change from topless walking vids, topless public vids, public masturbation vids, and whipping out my phone when men decide to fuck me on public transportation, to me fucking gorgeous curvy girls, impregnating and reminding fake-boys to be good girls, and having my way with fake-girls in public, as I'm so used to, but I'll give them a nice shot of T as I fuck them to help them along to becoming men, too. ❤️"

[tgmsunmontue]

It's not who you know 1/4

YEAR 1 - Non-angsty Nepo!Baby Bradley and his first year at the USNA and his head-in-the-sand approach to the nepotism and the fact that he ends up being known as the guy with the two hot dads instead...

YEAR ONE – 2001

                “You don’t want us to drop you off?”

                “No! I don’t need a… a Captain and an Admiral coming to my first day. It’s not school!”

                “Lots of parents will be dropping their kids off. It’s the beginning of Plebe Summer…”

                “Yeah well, it’s not like I haven’t been there before. I know my way around already, you know your way around! Please don’t…”

                “Are you… embarrassed to be our kid?”

                “Uh…” Bradley refuses to meet their eyes.

                “Oh my god, you are!”

                “No! No. I’m not embarrassed okay? It’s more… I don’t want people knowing I’m a legacy kid.”

                “Oh,” says Ice then, expression going understanding and Mav looks confused.

                “What? What am I missing?”

                “Bradley wants to prove himself. Doesn’t want others to think he got in because of his… connections.”

                “But… he did.”

                “He also tested crazy high, he would have got in regardless.”

                Bradley feels a flush of achievement at the sheer surety in Ice’s voice, proud and no-nonsense.

                “But… you’re more than just a legacy kid. You know that right?” Mav asks, and he suddenly seems so unsure, like Bradley isn’t aware of how good he is.

                “Yeah Mav, I know that.”

                “Anyway, you’re a triple legacy kid and plenty of the brass at Annapolis already know you’re on your way. You going to pretend you don’t know half of them?”

                “If I have to…”

                Mav cackles then and Bradley lets out a laugh as well when Ice just lets out a resigned sigh. He needs to make a couple of phone calls. Another job for tomorrow.

…             …             …

                “When did we become uncool? He doesn’t want anything to do with us! Maybe it’s just you that’s uncool, do you think he’d let me take him? I want to take him.”

                Tom rolls his eyes, because Mav is nothing if not dramatic.

                “We have to let him go. I’m sure we’ll figure out some way of keeping in touch. My parents wrote me letters.”

                “Too slow. We could get BeepBeep one of those transportable phone things.”

                “Calling him BeepBeep is another reason why he doesn’t want to be seen in public with us. Also, it’s a mobile, or cellphone, you’re not old so stop sounding like you are.”

                “Yeah yeah, just because you have one.”

                “We can get you one at the same time we get Bradley one…”

                “Hmm, I feel like it would just be another way you could tell me no.”

                “It would be another way in which you ignore me telling you no.”

                “You like it when I don’t say no,” Mav says, turning toward him and grinning.

…             …             …

                “Mav, where are you?”

                “Uh… I took a couple of personal days?”

                “To do what? Also I find it highly suspicious that these personal days coincide with the start of Plebe Summer. Tell me you aren’t stalking Bradley.”

                “I’m not not stalking him?”

                “Jesus Pete…”

                “He doesn’t know I’m here! I’m just… making sure he arrives okay!”

                “He’s an adult. He flew there, we put him up in a motel and he then caught a taxi. Shit. I still haven’t rung Sli and let him know Bradley’s going to pretend not to know anyone…”

                “Oh! Don’t do it. Let Bradley cause havoc! Can you imagine some of them talking to Bradley like they know him and Bradley just… pretending they’ve got the wrong person?”

                “Do you really think Bradley would be that rude?”

                “Depends how committed he is to this whole ruse. And he was pretty stubborn.”

                “I wonder where he gets that from…” Tom remarks dryly.

                “One of life’s mysteries,” Pete replies, clearly distracted and Tom lets out a long breath and reminds himself that he loves Mav. Mantra or curse, he loves the man.

                “So what are you actually doing?”

                “Watching everyone arrive. I’m just parked in a car up the road and watching everyone walk in. Bradley will be easy to spot because he’ll be all alone…”

                “So you’re in a car outside a naval training center staring at cadets as they arrive. Tell me you don’t also have a pair of binoculars.”

                “They’re small ones.”

                Tom groans and hangs up on him, glad that he did go through with getting Mav that cellphone after all. As much as the idea of letting Bradley cause chaos may be appealing to Mav, he knows better and he really needs to make that phone call.

…             …             …

                “Welcome back to Annapolis Bradley!”

                “I’m sorry sir, you must have me confused with another cadet…”

                “Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “That is my name sir, but I think you have me confused with someone else…”

                Admiral Mackenzie blinks and frowns and then steps back.

                “Sorry Cadet Bradshaw. On your way then.”

                “Thank you sir. Nice to meet you.”

…             …             …

                Tom sighs and wonders what the easiest way of dealing with this is going to be. He’d fully intended to make this phone call months ago, not leaving it until the first evening of Plebe Summer when Slider is no doubt at his busiest.

                “Hey Ron…”

                “Oof. First name. What did I do?”

                “Not you…”

                “What did Mav do?”

                Tom snorts and rubs at his eyes.

                “Not him either…” He won’t mention the creepy sitting in a car aspect of Mav’s latest craziness.

                “Bradley? Baby Goose? He’s never any trouble…”

                “Well, I think he’s going to make up for it.”

                “At Annapolis?” Ron scoffs disbelievingly.

                “He’s going to pretend he doesn’t know anyone…”

                “Uh. But he knows everyone.”

                “I’m well aware. Just… can you prepare everyone for Bradley being an idiot and pretending he knows no one?”

                “Oh… I think this conversation is coming too late. Mack came into my office earlier and said that Bradley completely blanked on him.”

                “Oh shit…”

                “Well, at least we have an explanation. He was worried that he might have memory issues.”

                “Who? Him or Bradley?”

                “Either. Both? Anyway, I’ll let Mack know. As well as the others, because that could have backfired horribly.”

                “I know. They’d think he was getting smart. He just… I think part of it is wanting to be judged on his own merits, but also not have anyone use him to advance themselves.”

                “He’s a smart young man. I look forward to watching his career.”

…             …             …

                “You seem to know how everything works around here…”

                “Uh. I did a lot of reading in preparation for coming. I didn’t want to be taken by surprise by anything you know?”

                “Smart move. You definitely seem to have caught the attention of all the instructors at least. They all know your name.” Bradley grimaces, because that’s not necessarily a good thing. At least no-one has called him MiniMav, BeepBeep or Baby Goose. There are others, but he doesn’t need his childhood nicknames coming common knowledge. “Although, I guess Bradley Bradshaw is an easy name to remember. Kind of rolls off the tongue. Brad Brad.”

                Bradley lets out a sigh, resigned to yet another nickname.

…             …             …

                Mav follows through with the other visitors. He hasn’t really told Ice or Bradley that he was planning on coming today. Unlike Ice who went through USNA Mav never really allowed himself to show too much interest, directing it all toward the flight school after doing his Bachelor degree. Now that Bradley is here though he can ask all the questions. Even the ones he’s pretty sure he knows the answers to. He spies one of the cadets with the last name Trace and wonders if this is the same one in Bradley’s platoon. Maybe.

                “Hi! I’m Peter, Bradley Bradshaw’s dad. Nice to meet you.”

                “Good morning Mr. Bradshaw. Natasha Trace. Bradley didn’t mention that his parents were coming…”

                “Well no, I hadn’t been planning on coming. I can’t often get away from work, but I thought I’d try and make an extra effort with it being the parents day and all…”

                “Oh, did your wife come with you?”

                “Uh, no, I’m not married…” The young cadet looks awkward then and Mav takes pity on her. “I’m just going to join one of the tours. If you see Bradley tell him his dad Pete is here. I’ll catch up with him later. It’ll be a surprise!”

                “Uh, but if I tell him then won’t it spoil the surprise?”

                “He’ll still be plenty surprised when he actually sees me.”

…             …             …

                Bradley still hasn’t seen Mav, and he knows it must be Mav, because Ice surely wouldn’t fuck him over like this. He’s heard through three others that his dad is here, and also a few comments that he looks good. Bradley hopes like hell he’s not in his fucking uniform, although everyone is fairly desensitized about uniforms looking in any way sexy when everyone is wearing them. He’s more worried about people finding out exactly who Mav is… But he can’t seem to find him in the swarm of people, everyone showing their family around. Plus Mav is short and likely knows Bradley is looking for him.

                “Bradshaw! I just met you dad, holy fuck he’s all sorts of hot isn’t he?”

                “Short guy? Dark hair?”

                “Why? You have more than one dad?”

                Bradley freezes, suddenly unsure of what to say because in his head he’s got space for three dads and they’re all very distinct people. None of whom he would ever describe as hot. Gross. God, it’s even worse than thinking of them having sex.

                “I, uh, yeah… fuck.”

                “Like… a dad and a step-dad, or are we talking a couple of dad’s who adopted you?”

                “Closer to the second one I guess,” Bradley says, resigned, because fuck it, it’s close enough. He’s not going to get into the specifics but he guesses he can share some rough details. “My dad died when I was a little, his best friend is my god-father and he was pretty much my dad growing up. And once him and his partner figured their shit out I got another dad…”

                “What about your mom?”

                “She died a few years ago. Cancer.”

                “Oh wow… so you really have two dads.”

                “Yep. And one of them is here?”

                “Yeah, he said his name was Peter Bradshaw?”

                “Oh. Huh. Of course he did…”

                Trust Mav to fucking come up with a cover story but not tell anyone else what is.

                He doesn’t end up finding or seeing Mav for the entire day, although he does receive a couple of overly exaggerated winks from some of the teachers, as well as Uncle Slider and Admiral Mackenzie. He takes it with good grace because they’re humoring his need to try and stay as anonymous as possible, even if Mav seems to be intent on fucking it up.

…             …             …

                “You couldn’t have stopped him?” Bradley asks, and Tom would almost call the tone whining, but there’s too much desperation there.

                “I’m sorry, are we talking about the same person? Have you ever tried to stop him doing something once he’s set his mind to it?”

                “Ugh, I didn’t even get to see him! What was the point?

                “So he could see you. See that you’re happy and alright.” Just like that the wind seems to leave Bradley’s sails, like he has to let Mav have this. Has to be grateful for small mercies that Mav didn’t learn how to do sky writing, which he’ll keep to himself because it’s totally something Mav would want to try out. “And you should know he’s actually being fairly restrained, especially if he didn’t approach you. He did follow you out there for your first day and just watched from a car like the giant dork that he is.”

                “What? Ugh. Dork, yes. Giant, no. Ugh. Why is he like this?”

                “I really have no idea. Do you like the taste of whiskey yet? I find that helps.”

SECOND YEAR

[valsdelulucorner]

Heya! How's ya doing?

Just wanted to drop in and ask if ya had any ideas or concepts or even fandom thoughts you have bouncing around. I personally don't really have much to come up with but that's what cause my brain is a bit slow right now and moving on auto-pilot so it takes a bit for me to think up stuff lol.

Just curious about any thoughts and concepts and such. Anything at all! (Au's, OC's, headcanons or just anything really)

I love this question! here is a few i like with a little description of each<3 I have three fandoms here, obey me, twst and Stardew

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

Obey me<3

Self aware normal - In this Au they know they are in a game and have managed to access your camera, actually managing to make contact with the pretty human behind the screen. They actually love talking with you and come with you everywhere thanks to your phone, sometimes you get a call and its just them so you can talk to them. They know your boundaries and know when to turn the camera and microphone off but if something happens or if they find something that excites them, they'll send you a message. Really sweet overall, they don't try to leave the game.

Self aware yandere - This is like the previous Au but instead of it being wholesome, its really sinister. They manage to escape the game and become 7 sentient beings on the internet, tracking your every move online and tracking your location in real life. They have a unhealthy obsession with you to the point they torment you at every turn if you try and get rid of them, they love you too much. They get rid of your friends by either pretending to be you and sending nasty messages to them, or they will make fake accounts to black mail them to make sure they wont try and contact you, They'll know when you talk to you irl.

Mermaid Au - Mc gets caught in a bad storm which causes their cruise ship to crash and sink, causing them to plumet into the cold water. Lucifer sees that your still alive and decides to save you by bringing you to the island close by their home. One the situation with belphie happens, the brothers warm up to you and make a large cove on the island your home, taking you on little adventures in the ocean while trying to keep you from leaving the island.

Werewolf Mc Au - While MC is visiting the human world, they get bitten by a werewolf, mistaking the guy for just a crazy homeless guy so they think nothing of it. After heading back to devildom that night, they start to shift during dinner time at the house of lamentation. The brothers freak out and try and found out what happened to you, all while they try and grab a panicked werewolf MC

Dimension hop Au - In this Au, Obey me is simply just a game until a bad electrical storm comes over your Neiborhood. You were playing Obey me when a large lightning bolt hit your house, and before you could drop your phone you were somehow transported inside the game. Your already past lesson 20 when you wake up in the house of lamentation, you apparently passed out on your birthday celebration when a birthday present shot you with something. (I dont know, im making this up as i go). You try and get back to your own world with the help of the others, including the royals and angels

Dimension hop Alt scenario Au- This is basically the same as the previous AU but instead of MC coming to obey me, obey me comes to them

Twisted wonderland<3

Dimension hop Au - While your playing Twisted wonderland on your ipad, you fall asleep during the middle of a chapter with autoplay on, your Ipad plugged into the wall for charging. During the night, a powerline falters after a tree falls down on it, the sparks causing a glitch on your Ipad that was still plugged into the wall. In the morning you felt something heavy on your chest, opening your eyes only to find the whole cast of twst in your house, teachers and all. They all knew who you were and were good friends with you, but they had zero clue about where they were

Dimension hop alt senario Au - Basically the same as the AU above but Yuu goes down to twisted wonderland instead

Body swap Au - Self explanatory

Overblot yuu Au - Yuu gets pushed to far, everything was to much. Yuu had to deal with all the overblots, they got hated on for not having any magic, they missed their home, they barley could afford to live, and Crowley was being a absolute fucker about money and their living conditions. One day Yuu just snapped, full on screaming at crowley as the black ink started to cover their body, only to come out as the worst of all of the overblots yet

Stardew Valley<3

Yandere Au - Instead of one of the bachelors/bachelorettes being yandere, its one big brawl for your affection. There is blackmail, blood, violence as all 12 bachelors/bachelorettes fight it out for you. Couples may form a truce and share you, some might just steal you for themselves, its up to you how things turn out

Cryptid farmer Au - You took the spot of the old farmers grandchild, it was the only way you were able to have a normal life. After making friends with all of the villagers and all the bachelors/bachelorettes, the fear of people finding out got higher and higher as more and more of the villagers want to speak and hang out with you. One night it got too much for you and your human form started to painfully slip away, panicking in your own home as the group of bachelors or bachelorettes come to see if your ok, only to walk in on you having multiple panicked eyes growing from your arms and neck.

Werewolf farmer Au - The residents of Stardew valley started hearing noises coming from the forest and the farmers place, sounds that were alot worse than the slimes living in the secret forest. Each villager got more and more suspicious of the farmer when they started to observe their behaviour, they always ran home quickly before the sun set, they refused to touch anything silver, and they always seemed to have different hair lengths. One night you were in the saloon for too long and forgot about the time, no one had ever seen you more panicked. One of them tried to hold your arm and calm you down but you swiped at them, not realizing your fingernails have grown to claws. You sprint back to the farm and collapse on the hard rock paths, shifting painfully into a werewolf as the town people followed you from the saloon, but you are conscious the entire time

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

This is not proof read lmao, things may be abit scuffed but please dont mind that

If any of you want to use this as insperation for a fic or some art, please @ me! I dont want credit because they have probably been done before, I would just love to see your creations<3

What should I do next?