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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 28 days

Text

blue butterflies

pairing: jackson! joel miller x reader

cws/tags: 1st person pov joel, angst, discussions of sex trafficking/sexual assault, death, mild smut, au where nothing bad happens between ellie and joel, author has not played tlou 2 yet (donate to kofi lmao), guns, alcohol consumption, light enemies to lovers, cordyceps works different in this one (more predictable and slower-acting)

summary: joel's letter to reader

a/n: i watched the beginning of tlou (joel playing guitar) and it made me cry so hard. so, this is inspired by that, but also i listened to funeral by arcade fire and for emma, forever ago by bon iver while writing this. neighborhood #4 (7 kettles) by arcade fire makes me cry so hard.

wc: 5.7k

taglist: @gothcsz @harriedandharassed @withonly-sweetheart

thank you to @jennaispunk for beta reading/proofreading !

join my taglist | purchase a commission

divider is from @danowh0re

playlist for fic: required listening!!

I thought therapy was a bunch of bullshit - a scam at worst, a waste of my time at best. But, since you left us, Tommy’s been making me go. He keeps saying, ‘it’s what she would’ve wanted’, and I think it is. But, that doesn’t mean I like it.

My therapist told me if I’m not gonna talk to her about my past, I should at least talk to someone. I told her I’d talk to you, if you were here. She told me it was a good idea, that I should write it out in a letter. She told me I could write to you, or to Sarah, but I figured I’d better write to you ‘cause there’s some things a daughter shouldn’t hear about her dad. Even - especially - the most fun times he’s had. I’ll get to those later.

Did you know I hated you when we first met? I never told you, but I think you knew. I thought you were a self-important, entitled bitch who acted like she’d been through hell when I knew she hadn’t because of how well-adjusted she seemed. I thought you had some sort of unearned valor. I know that’s not the right way to put it. I think the word I’m looking for is ‘respect’. Tommy, Maria, even Ellie were so quick to respect you when I had to earn it.

“The reason people don’t like you is because you’re an asshole,” you told me. “You’re fucking scary when you’re mad, too.”

“What’s that saying? It’s better to be feared than to be loved?”

“That’s what Machiavelli said, but that doesn’t mean he’s right.”

I think he was wrong. I was jealous of how much everyone loved you, and they didn’t love me because they feared me. You were so fucking right, and that was one of the things that I hated most about you.

I used to think about how young you were in comparison to an old man like me, how you were only a little younger than Sarah would’ve been, and how stupid I would’ve felt if Sarah was always outsmarting me. Until I remembered all the times that Sarah did just that, and how much I loved her for it, rather than in spite of it. (Note to self: tell Sarah this in your letter to her).

That’s not to say I loved you, not yet. I did love you, but I realized that a little later. I had to learn to like you first.

Do you remember our first day out on patrol together? I begged Tommy to change my schedule. I would rather have spent my time with anyone else in the community -- Hell, I would’ve asked Tommy to give you a day off if it’d get me out of having to work alongside you.

You overheard me talking to Tommy, and said to me, “You could at least wait until I’m out of earshot to bitch about me, you know?”

“I know,” I said.

And we didn’t talk for almost the whole shift. Well, I didn’t talk, but you kept on talking, almost like you were talking to yourself. You didn’t even care that I was ignoring you.

“It’s okay. I don’t like people either.”

“Who says I don’t like people?”

“Your face, your voice, basically your whole demeanor.”

You were so honest, and you had every right to be. It shut me right back up again. I don’t know if that’s what you wanted. Maybe you thought provoking me would make me talk, but I’m a stubborn, old asshole. I don’t think you need me to tell you that.

“What did I do to piss you off?” You asked, after I gave you what you viewed as the silent treatment, and what I saw as peace and quiet.

“Nothing. I just think you’re a little bit... egotistical.”

“So are you. You think you know everything.”

“No, but I know more than you. You haven’t got half the experience I have, and believe me, kid, you don’t want it.”

“You’re so melodramatic. And for what? Has the brooding bad boy behavior gotten you laid yet?”

For your information, yes, it had absolutely gotten me laid.

But before I could tell you that, you stopped me, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “and by the way, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tell me, then.”

“Tell you what?”

“About all the horrors you’ve experienced. If I’m so wrong, then prove it.” I challenged you because I thought you wouldn’t be able to come up with anything. I wouldn’t have said that if I’d known what I do now.

You were so angry that you laughed at me. “Fuck you. You don’t deserve to know shit about me.”

A couple weeks later we knew each other’s whole life stories. I told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else, more than I think I ever will tell anyone else. It started when we got lost in the woods together. We were arguing as usual, and we only got ourselves even more lost. The sun was starting to go down, and I could see it in your eyes - you were getting scared. Maybe, for a second, I took some sort of satisfaction in knowing that you were the one who couldn’t handle it, but I’m still human - it feels a little cruel saying that now - so I wasn’t gonna let you suffer.

“It’s not gonna do us any good to keep arguing, so can we agree to drop it?”

“Truce,” you said, holding out your hand, and when I shook it, you added, “but let it be known that you surrendered.”

“Don’t push it. You know if we stay out here long enough that we have to resort to eating each other’s flesh, you’re gonna be my dinner, not the other way around.”

“I hope I taste good.”

You did, baby. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.

I think we had our first date that night. Sort of. It was late when we got back. Most people were asleep, and the bar was closed, but you had the key.

“Tommy gave you a spare key?”

“Uh-huh. I assumed you had one too, but I guess I’m the favorite.”

“You’re prettier than me. Of course, you are.”

I still can’t believe I said that -- I wasn’t even drinking yet. I can be a real idiot when I’m talking to a beautiful woman.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You looked very pretty when you bothered to wash your hair last week.”

“I wash my hair, okay? Sorry I’m old and don’t wake up looking like a supermodel.”

“Who does?”

“I know you want me to say ‘you’, but I’m not taking the bait.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re thinking it, and that’s what matters.”

I was thinking much more than that, darling.

You walked behind the counter, and asked me, “what do you drink?”, and I think that was the moment I knew I liked you. You could’ve --should’ve -- told me to fuck off. You had other friends (not that we were quite ‘friends’), but you chose me that night. I was a real fixer-upper of a companion, but maybe you liked a challenge.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You gave me that look -- that fuckin’ look -- that raised eyebrow and a tiny smirk. And it made me feel like a teenager caught staring at his crush.

“Please and thank you," I added.

You got up on the stool behind the bar, grabbed the bottle on the top shelf, and said, “you deserve it.”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “But I’ll take it.”

You sat beside me, and sipped your whiskey. (And you looked pretty hot doing it.) After a good minute of silence you said, “thank you for not killing me and eating me in the woods.”

“I’d get pretty goddamn bored if I didn’t have you yapping in my ear constantly.”

“I thought you hated it.”

“Only sometimes.”

“Then, why don’t you ever talk to me?”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“Barely.”

So, I turned to you, put my elbow on the counter, laid my head in my hand, and gave you the same face you were giving me. I tried to pretend I was mocking you, but I think you knew I was trying to practice being more likable, being more like you.

“Tell me something,” you said.

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tell me about you.”

“My name is Joel Miller-”

“We’re not at AA.”

“You’re goddamn right we’re not. This would be the shittiest AA meeting ever.”

“Okay, okay. How about you tell me when your birthday is?”

“September 26th, 1981.”

“So, you’re a Libra.”

“Oh c’mon, tell me you’re not into that shit. I was finally starting to tolerate you.”

“I’m a Cancer.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Cancer like the crab, not like the disease!”

“Mm-hmm. I’m sure you’re familiar with crabs as well.”

I got a laugh and a smack on the arm in return, and the laugh was worth the smack.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know you can’t help being an asshole, so at least you’re making me laugh.”

I didn’t realize your hand was still on my arm until you asked me, “What’d you do before this? You’ve got nice arm muscles.”

“I worked in construction, I was a contractor.”

“Like a carpenter?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what Jesus was. I bet he had good arm muscles.”

“I don’t think that’s his most notable feature, but sure, why not?”

Despite the fact that we were talking all things Jesus, you were feeling me up. And you weren’t subtle about it at all.

“Do you wanna play darts?” you asked, breaking the tension.

“Okay.”

You walked up to the dartboard all confident, and I expected an instant bullseye. You’d only had one drink and you were focusing so hard, practicing the swing of your arm like a golfer would. The first shot missed the board entirely.

And that’s when I learned you were awful at darts.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then, why’d you ask me to play?”

“For fun. Plus, how else am I gonna get better?”

You weren’t even close to the bullseye. You weren’t even hitting the board at all half the time. Over the next couple of years, you got better, not a lot better -- I still won every game we ever played -- but you got closer. But, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, as they say. It probably counts in terms of people too -- I like to think our closeness counted for something, even if it couldn't last forever.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty," I said.

“You’re lucky you’re good at darts," you fired back.

“Is that an insult? Because I’m holding a sharp object and I’ve got good aim.” And with that, I threw the final dart, hit the bullseye, and won. “What do I get?”

“For what?”

“Winning.”

“You get to keep your pride.”

I was happy with that, but you turned back to me, stepped closer and whispered, “and this,” before you kissed me.

I don’t know which one of us was more nervous. All I knew was that I liked you a lot more when you were quiet. All I heard from you was a little gasp when I lifted you onto the counter so I could keep kissing you without having to lean down and hurt my back ‘cause I’m an old man. I really thought my brooding bad boy look was gonna get me laid again that night, but you stopped me before I could get your top off.

“Uh-uh,” you said. “You’re gonna have to do more than beat me at darts if you want more than a kiss.”

“Fair enough. What’s your price?”

“I’m not a hooker.”

I didn’t understand why you looked so upset until that day by the water when you told me. I’m sorry I said that, I really am.

“Sorry. What I should’ve said is, ‘Can I take you to dinner on Friday?’”

You gave me a nonchalant ‘sure’, and I assumed you’d keep it hush-hush, but you bragged about getting asked out. Why would you brag about me? That's something I still don't understand.

The next day, I went and asked Tommy for advice because I hadn’t dated in a long time, and he’s more of the romantic type. I thought our dinner date would be news to him, but you’d already told him.

“Yeah, I know. She came in here asking for advice too actually.”

He’s got a bigger mouth than you do. That’s why you two got along so well -- you were like those little old ladies gossiping at the hair salon.

“What’d she say?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy.”

But Tommy always had a certain loyalty to you. He keeps your secrets to this day -- some of ‘em.

“Give me some advice, please.”

“You were married once. You won a woman’s heart. Just do what you did back then.”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that my marriage ended in divorce.”

“Just be yourself.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is. How about smiling for once?”

I tried, but I’d almost forgotten how to over the years.

Tommy feigned disgust and said, “I take it back. Keep your usual pissed-off look.”

You taught me how to smile again. I don’t know that you meant to do it, but you did. Tommy says he knows when I’m thinking about you because of the way I smile.

When I came over to pick you up for dinner, you opened the door wearing a bathrobe with your hair in curlers. I guess I was looking at you funny because you made sure to tell me, “Don’t worry, I’m not wearing this out. Go sit in the living room.”

“I’m not worried. You look beautiful already.”

“I do not. I look like my grandmother.”

“I imagine she must’ve been a hot commodity then.”

“She was actually -- or at least, that’s the story she used to tell us. She was Prom Queen and all that jazz.”

You could talk for hours, about anything. I could say one word and you could give me a tangentially related 20 minute long monologue. You were a good storyteller. I don’t think I ever told you this, but I used to think about how you’d be great at making up stories for our kids one day -- if we ever had them. I know I told you I didn’t want to have any, but that’s one of the few lies I told you. I was too scared to imagine that kind of a future with you.

I had you in the present, and that’s what I cared about. I don’t remember what you wore that night because I spent most of our date looking at your face, trying to memorize every dimple, freckle or scar I could see. All the details.

I’m sure your dress fit perfectly, but what I cared about was how your hand felt when I took it in mine as we walked to the restaurant -- it felt right, more so with our fingers intertwined on the way home.

It was one of the longest dinner dates in my not-so-long history of dating as it took you quite a while to finish your meal because you don’t talk with your mouth full (usually). I think our waitress was mad that we were there for so long. They were cleaning up by the time you were done eating.

I don’t remember all the things you said. Even if I did, I don’t have enough paper to write it all down. But I do remember when you asked me, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“This is my first date.”

I would’ve been less surprised if you’d told me you’d killed someone.

“Mine too,” I said.

“Liar! Tommy said you were married... before all of this.”

“Does Tommy tell you everything about me?”

“No. He wouldn’t tell me when your birthday was. That’s why I asked you.”

“That’s ‘cause he forgot it.”

Really, I wanted to know if he told you about Sarah, or if I’d have to do it myself. Both. As it turned out, he told you before we ever really met. I told you by the river, but that came later.

When I walked you home, we lingered by your door, and when I leaned in to kiss you goodnight, you turned your head, and I should’ve realized how special you were to me ‘cause I felt my heart sink. But, you asked me to come inside. You were always shy about kissing in public, but not on your living room couch.

When we were inside, you let me take off your dress, but only after I agreed to take off my shirt.

“Jesus,” you said when you watched me undress.

“We talked enough about Jesus last time. It’s about you and me now, baby.”

I learned to be a gentleman growing up in Texas, that wining and dining a lady includes putting her first in the bedroom too. But you called the shots -- that night and all of the others we had together. You got down on your knees and gave me the most irresistible face. It was embarrassing how quickly I came. It’s still embarrassing, and you’re not even here to tease me about it anymore. I thought I’d get the chance to prove myself to you that night, but you stopped me. I remembered what you said, ‘this is my first date’, and I assumed you were a virgin.

It was about a week later when I was trying to teach you how to skip rocks in the river that I asked you if you were one.

“It’s not a big deal if you are -- not to me, I mean. I just figured maybe because you said that was your first date.”

“It’s kind of a long story, so take a seat if you want the answer.”

I don’t know what I expected you to say, but I already felt like I’d fucked up by asking. I didn’t want to make this mess I’d gotten myself into worse than it already was, so I sat next to you and waited for you to speak.

“It’s not actually a long story, I guess. Just a sad one.”

It was the first sad story you told me, and you told me more stories than I’d ever been told by anyone else at this point. It was impressive how many happy ones you held onto, especially after everything that you told me that day.

You didn’t look at me while you spoke. You mumbled and picked at the grass beneath you. Like a child.

“I’m not a virgin, but I wasn’t lying when I said that was my first date. There’s just some stuff that you don’t know about me... ‘cause I didn’t want you to know these things about me. But it’s not like I was ever gonna get away with not telling you. It’s better that it happens now anyway.”

You started to cry, so I put my hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off. I was so used to the one doing the pushing away that being pushed away was jarring.

“Before I came to Jackson, I used to do things for money. Those sorts of things. It’s not like I wanted to, ‘cause I’m not like that, you know.”

You explained how you’d lost both your parents by the time you were 16 and didn’t have any siblings, so you ended up with whatever friends you could find. Some of the few good people that were left.

“There was a group of men who killed my friends just to loot their pockets, but they realized that it’d be more profitable to keep me alive.”

“So they forced you to...”

“Have sex for supplies, yeah. One of them was my first time, I guess. They did that stuff for a while, but once I’d been with a decent amount of men, they decided I was too ‘used up’ or something to be worth having sex with. I can’t decide if that made me feel better or worse. On the one hand, I didn’t have to have sex with them anymore, but I was also too gross to be wanted.”

“’Used up’ is bullshit. Back when the world was a little more civilized, those bastards could’ve gone to jail.”

“They’re dead.”

“Did you kill ‘em?”

“No, but I thought about it all the time. I remember thinking about strangling a man once. He was alone, so no one would’ve seen me do it, and the guys could’ve taken all of his shit too. They probably would’ve been happy if I had. I think that’s why I didn’t.”

“If you didn’t kill them, then how did they die?”

It probably wasn’t appropriate for me to pry, but the sadistic part of me needed to know that they got what was coming for them. I needed to know there was some justice left in this world.

“They wanted food from some guy who’d gone hunting and they tried to sell me to him, but he said ‘no’. He looked so offended that I thought I was pissed off ‘cause they’d given him a bad deal... but he shot the one standing in front of him. Then, he yelled at me to turn around and I was sure I was gonna die, but I heard him walk into the other room, another shot, and when the third walked in from outside, another shot. He walked over to me, and I started crying and begging him not to kill me. He told me he wasn’t going to, but he made me close my eyes while he led me out of the house.”

“’Cause he didn’t want you to see the bodies.”

“Yeah... and I still thought he was going to kill me, even when he took me with him on his horse, and said he was taking me back to some place called ‘Jackson’.”

I don’t know if I would say you got a happy ending, at least, not the one you deserved, but I saw a hint of a smile when you mentioned Jackson. And you didn’t have to tell me who the man was -- I know him well.

“Tommy,” I said, confident in my guess.

“Yeah.”

After I dropped you off at home, I went by his place and thanked him. And then I went home and cried. For the first time in a decade.

“You know it doesn’t change how I feel about you, right?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I like you… most of the time.”

What I meant was, I love you. I just didn’t know it yet.

“I guess I owe you a story too, then.”

“You don’t owe me anything... but you can tell me whatever you want.”

I think part of me wanted to tell you, or at least, part of me wanted you to know. “I had a daughter.”

“I know.”

I should’ve known, considering how close you and Tommy were.

“Tommy told you, didn’t he?”

“To be fair to him, he told me he had a niece.”

“Yeah, he did. She’d be a little older than you. It’s crazy to think that she’d be in her 30s when the last time I saw her she was 13.”

“I know saying ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t really do anything, but I’m still sorry”

“In a way, I’m glad she doesn’t have to see all these things. All the infected. She died before we ever had to go to a QZ.”

When you told me about the first QZ you lived in as a kid, it confirmed that for me. It pained me to hear about you watching your dad get bitten and leaving him behind, saying goodbye without knowing he was dying -- in one way or another.

You told me later about how the only person you’d ever killed was your own mother, how she used to sell herself like you did, how you missed the first shot and you saw how scared she was to die. I think you had it worse than I did.

“I think she was mostly scared because she knew I couldn’t do shit with a gun, and that I’d end up surviving the way that she did... and she was right.”

“Neither of you deserved it, and I bet she’d be proud of you now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I’m proud of you.”

You cried, but you finally let me hold you. You cried so long that I thought you’d never stop.

Do you remember your last day? I told you I wanted to be with you until the end, but you reminded me about your mother. You told me that even if a shot to the head had to be the way you went out, I wasn’t going to be there to give it to you. We had two choices: either wait until that day came or let you go before then. I said I wanted to go with you. I wanted to ask Tommy to give me the same cocktail he was gonna cook up for you. You said no. It was your last wish that I stayed.

“I don’t wanna live without you.”

“I don’t wanna die, but I don’t get to choose. If I could live longer, I would. But just because I’m dying doesn’t mean you get to leave everyone else behind.”

Yeah, you brought Ellie into it. I wanted to tell you not to bring her up. I’m glad you did because as much as it hurt to think about her watching me die the way that I watched you die, it made me stay. I’m glad I stayed. Things are okay, but our last day is still my favorite day.

We got up early and watched the sunrise, and I told you I loved you for the first time.

“I know,” you said with a smile on your face.

“How?”

You just lifted your coffee cup. When you moved in -- something I didn’t realize was happening ‘till it had already happened -- I started making coffee every morning before you woke up, and I started buying that French Vanilla bullshit creamer. I hated it. It was so sweet it made me nauseous. I could’ve gone and bought my own, but I’m still stubborn, I’m still a cheapskate, I’m still me -- even without you (which is something I thought I’d never be able to say). But that wasn’t why I started taking my coffee the same way you took yours.

It was one day when you’d already left for work but my shift didn’t start until later. I hadn’t slept at all the night before -- and not for any good reason, not for more time with you -- so I was tired when I woke up. I made myself some coffee, but I wasn’t even thinking straight, so I hadn’t noticed that I had put that creamer in my mug until I tasted it. But I wasn’t disgusted. I thought maybe you’d left yours behind and I’d absent-mindedly picked the wrong one up off the counter -- I very well could’ve gotten caught up in putting the toaster on the right settings (that’s something we could never agree on) -- but when I looked down, it was my mug. Yours was dirty in the sink. You were gone for the day. I was stupid to think otherwise. I was fantasizing. That was new.

So, just as I am right now, I take my morning coffee like you took yours. It tastes like you, like you kissing me.

I waited anxiously for you to say you loved me too.

“Are you not gonna say it back? Do you not-- do you feel the same?”

“What do you think?”

“I hope so.”

You gestured for me to come closer so you could whisper in my ear and I thought maybe you’d give me a wet willy. But you said, “Joel Miller, I have loved you for a long time.”

I didn’t say anything. I don’t think I’ve ever been very good with words -- talking was your thing. I grabbed your hand and squeezed. We went out onto the porch and sat in silence. I wonder what you were thinking about.

“Will you sing me something?”

You know I don’t take requests, and you know I don’t like an audience, no matter how small that audience is.

No one would refuse the wish of a dying woman, but I couldn’t refuse you even if I knew you’d be there tomorrow and every day after. I only protest because you look cute when you beg. Not in that way -- you look hot when you beg like that.

“What song do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

I sang Peaceful Easy Feeling because, as much as a part of me felt a sense of urgency, knowing our time was running out, most of me was just thinking about you, and I love you. Simple as that.

You gave me a standing ovation just to see me blush.

We all planned something special for your last dinner. I know you like simple things, so I tried to make it as simple as I could while still making it special for you. Maybe it was selfish to make it a night to remember when I’m the one who gets to remember it.

Tommy and Maria were chef and sous-chef (you can guess who was who in that scenario), and Ellie was the waitress.

“What are your specials tonight?” you asked.

“We have either the steak and baked potato or the steak without the baked potato.”

“In that case, I’d like it with the baked potato.”

We probably lit a hundred candles to fill the room with enough light to see each other -- we had time while you were getting ready, since you’re a bit of a slowpoke. We picked flowers from the garden and put them in an empty wine bottle because we couldn’t find a vase, and conjured up a decent tablecloth. We had ice cream sundaes for dessert -- or at least, you did. You know what I had for dessert.

“How about you, sir, would you like anything for dessert?” Ellie asked.

“No, I think I’ll be having dessert when we get home.” I tried to subtly wink at you.

“Ew! That’s disgusting. I don’t wanna hear about your sex life.”

“You’re the one assuming I was talking about sex. How do you know I don’t have a tub of ice cream waiting for me in the freezer at home?”

There was ice cream in the freezer, but the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted was between your legs. The moment we got home I picked you up bridal style and carried you up to our bedroom.

“Baby, I know how long you spent getting ready, and I’m sorry to do this to you, but this needs to come off,” I said before I yanked down the zipper of your dress. You laughed as I ripped off your clothes.

You gently undid my tie and when I watched you fumble with the buttons on my shirt, I said, “Just rip it, baby.”

“I don’t wanna ruin your clothes.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me or my clothes tonight. I want you to have me however you want me.”

“You’ll do whatever I want?”

“Within reason.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

“I suppose it depends -- what are the roles?”

“Husband and wife.”

“As long as I can be the husband.”

And then you kissed me -- with your typical tenderness but a new level of dedication. Slow and passionate, showing me what our lives could’ve been like.

“I’m an impatient husband, and I want my beautiful wife to lie down because I think I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t get to taste her.”

My mouth is useless when it comes to talking, but we both know I have other uses for it. I tried to go slowly, but I couldn't help myself. I swear your pussy was so perfect it made me reconsider my views on God. Though, I don’t think I am a man deserving of an angel. I think I just got lucky.

That night I couldn’t care less about how loud you were. “Joel- fuck- you’re gonna have to slow down, or, or, put your hand over my mouth ‘cause - oh!”

“’Cause you don’t want anyone to hear? What’s the problem with them hearing, darlin’? Married couples make love all the time, it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Without a condom, too. We weren’t worried about you getting pregnant, so we went out with the best bang of ‘em all. I think the last time I’d done it like that was when Sarah was conceived, and based on how easy that was, I was always cautious.

Husband and wife roleplay wasn’t very different from the sex we typically had. I guess we were really only a piece of paper and wedding bands away from being those ‘characters’.

Earlier that day, I was worried I wouldn’t sleep that night. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to savor every moment with you but when you curled up in my arms I fell asleep before I could even consider staying awake.

Waking up next to you was my last clear image, even our goodbye kiss was a little blurry ‘cause I was already a little teary-eyed.

But before that, over breakfast, you mentioned something that I’ve thought about every day since.

“You know how sometimes people see a bird or something and they’re like ‘oh, that’s my dead relative’?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come back as a butterfly. One of the blue ones. You don’t see those too often. I don’t want to be something too common, like a bird, then you’ll probably mistake someone else for me.”

I don’t think I had seen a blue butterfly in Jackson until after you’d left us, but there’s one outside my window right now.

In case it’s you, I’ll read this all aloud.

Forever yours,

Joel

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst

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whatwouldsylwrite · 1 year

Text

At least I got you in my head (prologue)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

A/N: The title is from Sleepover by Hayley Kiyoko, because my motto is if I had to suffer Abby has to suffer too. I also have literally no idea where this is going, but the idea got stuck and I needed to write something. 🙃

Jessica here is Jessica from Jessica Jones. (actually all characters here are fictional women I have a crush on, no name is random)

"Listen, I have a friend, she is looking for a roommate right now." Nora said as she drank her sweet coffee you really wanted to steal after she listened to your complaining. "It's super close to the campus."

"I've seen a porn starting exactly like this."

"I wouldn't call Sherlock Holmes porn." Nora shot back and you rolled your eyes. "Do you want her number or not?"

"Is she, you know?.."

"Painfully straight. Don't worry, you won't end up looking for a place because you decided to date your roommate."

"Okay, yeah, give me her number."

Okay, Jessica wasn't.. that bad. It was cute in the beginning, you two hit it off immediately, her sarcasm bounced off your wittiness perfectly. You liked how cool and un-fucking-bothered she was, she liked you because you were a little shit. You two had so much tension it was bound to explode one day, and it did: you got drunk at home, played some have i never and then fucked for two days straight. Jess was cool, and Jess really didn't like to give any kind of clarity on where you stood even when you asked her to her face. She'd just say she liked you and that was it, and even though it really pissed you off, you didn't press further - Jess was cool, but she wasn't sweet enough to fall in love with. It was getting annoying as she grew more territorial about you, always putting her arms around you in public, which was cute until she started asking about Nora and getting angry when you were with her.

That was when you decided to tap out and move out - the red flag was fucking screaming in your face. You quickly informed Jessica about it, to which she just flipped you, and you left, not dealing with her shit. And now you were homeless, and the term was starting and you really didn't want any drama.

So a painfully straight girl would be fucking perfect for a roommate.

to: potential roommate

Hi! I'm (y/n), Nora gave me your number

She said you're looking for a roommate?

from: potential roommate

Hi! I am

Do you smoke?

to: potential roommate

from: potential roommate

That's the address

If you can, come tomorrow after six

to: potential roommate

The place was actually close to the campus and not "beautiful place to have peaceful study sessions. 20 minutes by public transport". You weren't sure if you'd be able to afford it, but it was worth a try anyway, you were tired of sleeping on your friends' couches. The apartment building was on a quiet street, but you knew that this street had a bunch of bars where students spent their time.

It was another win, and it made you want to afford this place even more. You reread the message and got up to apartment 42.

You rang the bell and waited for the girl to open the door.

And then she did.

And then you died.

Tall, muscular, shoulders and arms so defined you felt your mouth going slack. She had freckles on her face, pretty blue eyes with long lashes, stubborn mouth and a long braid.

Oh no fucking way this absolute lesbian wet dream was straight. Nora set you the fuck up here, you were sure of it.

"Hi, I'm Abby. You're (y/n)?" She said in a nice melodic voice that had just an edge of something dark and warm, and you woke up.

"Yeah." You squealed, still so shocked and so attracted to her it was getting painful.

She was painfully straight? Well, you were painfully gay for her right now.

"Cool, come in."

Oh god.

She had the ass. Oh what a good day to be a lesbian, you thought, but you politely looked away, feeling like a creep for staring at her.

It gave you time to look around: the place wasn't too big, but it was cosy and clean, clearly looked after. That was a good sign - Jess was tidy, but she smoked and the whole place just stank of it, her cigarette buds were everywhere. Abby seemed sporty, probably obsessed with her food, but you didn't mind.

"Do you play sports?"

"MMA."

Oh for fuck's sake, you groaned inside. How could she be so stereotypically gay and be straight? Well, of course she could, looks and hobbies weren't indicators of someone's sexuality, but it was pretty fucking ironic to you.

The kitchen was small and tidy, everything in its place and a cute towel hanging from the oven handle. It gave you a 1950s housewife vibe, but it was cute. The living room was more chaotic, pillows and blankets everywhere: on the couch, on the floor, behind the couch (???), big tv and playstation next to the wall with a bunch of games next to them. Likes games, you noted, really feeling like a Sherlock Holmes and laughing at yourself for comparing your basic observation to the fictional genius.

"Sorry, I didn't have time to figure out this mess." Abby said and rubbed her neck and you had to clench your fists to stop feeling so attracted to her.

"It's cosy, not a mess." You chuckled. "My previous roommate left bottles instead of pillows."

"God." Abby scrunched her nose in disgust. "Okay, so there's two bedrooms, one is mine and the other one can be yours and if you promise to pay rent on time and not leave your laundry in the washing machine."

"Yeah, that won't be a problem.” You hesitated before speaking up, but you needed her to know you weren’t straight. “I'm a lesbian, by the way. Just in case you have a problem with it."

"Oh, I don't, it's totally cool." Abby smiled and you smiled back, relieved. Sometimes straight girls got wrong ideas and you wanted to get it out of the way now. You could deal with how attractive Abby was, but could she deal with you finding her attractive - that was a different question.

You talked about the price for the place, which wasn't too high, but you might want to find more students to tutor if you wanted to not worry about splitting your budget too much.

You left Abby’s place feeling relieved - you got a place to live in a good location and a roommate who, yeah, was super attractive, but she was straight, and that meant no relationship drama.

Fuck you, Jess - you thought as you made your way to Cait’s place - I won’t fall for the girl this time.

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

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gffa · 5 months

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Do you have any Sith!Obi-Wan fics you can recommend? 🙏

Hi! You can do a search for Sith Obi-Wan in my bookmarks which brings up several or you can start with the novel-length ones that still live rent-free in my head even years after I've read them: Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. This fic was written for me, so I'm biased, but it's genuinely my favorite for the trope because Lily put all this thought into the undercurrents going on between the characters, because it gives such care about why any version of Obi-Wan would fall to the dark and what he would be like, because each chapter had moments of foreshadowing and care given to lush, beautiful descriptions and the creeping dread of the place. It's a gorgeous fic and I think even if someone doesn't usually like Sith versions of the characters, the way this one does it (created reflections, not that our characters are falling, so it's scratching the itch of how it's an extension of our characters, but our characters are not on that exact path), I would gently suggest this one.

Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 187.1k Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin fell to the dark side, obtained their revenge, and saved the galaxy in the process. My other favorite Sith Obi-Wan fic, this one is about how these characters fall to the dark, and the author takes his time with how it happens step by step, but also how these massive, galaxy-spanning changes happen, how it's a combination of how sexy the dark side can be but also how awful it can be, how much pain and hurt it can cause. There's so much care and effort put into this story, it spans such a huge story, that it's one of those fics I want to physically print out in special binding because it deserves to be a pretty set on my bookshelf.

wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 124.2k the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Kenobi is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. This is an AU where Obi-Wan never trained Anakin and is already a Sith when we meet him, and there's a reason it's one of the most famous fics in the fandom, because it is the most charismatic thing I've just about ever read, the sheer amount of dark side sexy charm coming off Obi-Wan is incredible, the tension between him and Anakin is delicious, and the writing/plotting of the storyline is superb. I could not put this fic down when I read it, there's a reason this fic helped really popularize the trope, because it's just so goddamned addicting and glorious to read.

Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 106.4k wip Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Trapped out of time, Master and Apprentice must once again work together to stop Sideous’ plans from reaching fruition and bring Balance to the Force—all the while dodging the Jedi, the Sith, and their feelings for each other. I think this might even have been the first Sith!Obi-Wan fic that I read and I know it remains dear to me because I reread it a year or two ago and got sucked in just as hard as before. Obi-Wan is dropped back into his younger body, feels like the whole thing is a bunch of bullshit, gets sucked into dark thoughts, and just goes full dark side dom on Anakin and fixing the galaxy through machinations and foreknowledge. It's so fun and it does such great service to Anakin's level of power, that this guy is an absolute dragon in the Force, but that he also very much wants Obi-Wan's hand on the back of his neck to force him to kneel to the one person he loves. Hnngggg, it really cemented me as a fan of this trope because of how well it scratches the sexy dark side dom/sub while they're both badass dynamic, I love it so much.

I'm still making my way through a lot of Star Wars fic, so if anyone has any more recs, feel free to jump in, especially if you have some gen ones, since I mostly read pairing fic for Sith!Obi-Wan (because I'm personally after the sexy dom/sub dynamic with it)!

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #fic recs #star wars fic recs #sith obi wan

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yuri-is-online · 6 months

Note

I guess I can call myself a returner of interest in Fyuuture kid au to the masses, and I'm proud of it🏅 the part with other four dorms was absolutely amazing! Thank you! And your reply to my previous message was so heartwarming. My baby boy🥹 Yuu really should beat the magical marshall with a slipper when they meet again, no one touches THE bestest boy😤

It seems like I'll have to write down my questions, cause I tend to forget them in two minutes 😔 but there's the one I remember:

It was discussed in one of the posts (Riddle!Yutu), how does Yutu look like?🤔 I thought he would bear more resemblance with Yuu, so everyone wouldn't quickly (or immediately with some fathers) make conclusions. Does he have beastmen characteristics if his dad's from Savannaclaw? Does he inherit Idia's hair? Can he transform into octopus/eel/dragon form? (In twisted wonderland, I mean, not in Yuu's homeworld. I've read that post💅🏻) Is he as tall as the twins? 🤔 imagine 190 sm or 6ft 3, duckling following you

Have a nice day/evening, take care of yourself!

You should be very proud of yourself annon I am having a lot of fun with this! The Magical Marshall's are a government organization so the image of Yuu charging a fed with a slipper gave me a laugh, but yes they should. How dare they hurt Yutu ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭

imagine 190 sm or 6ft 3, duckling following you

Hand slipped. Anyway Yutu wears a pretty big sweatshirt sweater dress type thing that obscures a lot of his facial features though I did briefly play with the idea of him wearing a sort of mask similar to an FFXIV ash mask:

The justification was that the air in the future timeline! Twisted Wonderland was so polluted by blot and Yutu was so used to breathing it he needed some magical assistance... I think I also wrote some bullshit about the mask applying a glamour to Yutu so he didn't need to wear the big sweatshirt, but I feel like the mask would be more suspicious than just some guy who wants to keep his hood up.

As for those unique features, yes. With the exception of Malleus! Yutu, all of the non human Yutus found themselves transforming into an entirely different species when they came through the mirror into Twisted Wonderland. It was an extremely painful experience, imagine having your parent basically die in your arms and the next thing you know you are turning into a giant pacific octopus on the floor of a castle in front of a bunch of people. Yutu should be rewarded for not losing his shit then and there. The beastmen Yutus needed some time to adjust to having stronger hearing and senses of smell, the merfolk Yutus basically missed the first few months of magic education getting used to their merfolk forms, and Yutu Shroud had his hair instantly set itself on fire and had a massive panic attack. The beastmen Yutus have to keep their extra features tucked underneath their hoodie, which is very frustrating for Jack! Yutu who has a lot of floof that suddenly has nowhere to go. Lilia! and Sebek! Yutu don't have any noticeable appearance differences (unless you like the thought of him having Sebek's hair color), but I do like the idea of their teeth getting sharper. I prefer to leave a lot of Yutu's appearance up to the reader, but I had a super clear picture of Riddle! and Epel! Yutu as being short, and the more I think about the merfolk... I see Floyd! Yutu as being a sort of middle ground between his parents's height and Jade! Yutu as being about as tall as his dad. Oh and Azul! Yutu is taller than his dad, he is a bulky boy.

Now. Malleus! Yutu. So dragon fae hatch from eggs that can only be created out of love and constantly need to receive magic from their loving parent. That clearly didn't happen with Yutu, so I don't think he can transform into a dragon. He is still clearly inhuman, he has Malleus's eyes and ages much more slowly than other humans, even in your world he looked really young for his age. Think of Malleus! Yutu as sort of playing by half-elf rules, he's going to be living for hundreds of years and as he gets older he will grow tiny horns and some scales around them. He is also the strongest of the Yutus magically speaking, he did get some love from his father after all.

I did have a thought of sorts about the whole egg thing... I mentioned before that I had played with the idea of giving certain Yutu's siblings, and while I am still uncertain of the others I can see Malleus! Yutu having a twin of sorts who did hatch out of an egg, who can transform into a dragon, and who would have been left behind in Twisted Wonderland. I have so many ideas I wrote a lot of them down but this au is already so complicated I don't know if I want to add her. I do really like it though...

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #twst spoilers #the other yutus who had siblings were Jade! Yutu and Trey! Yutu #also sort of Rook! Yutu but i am less sure on that

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aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

🦉 Seventeen as Hogwarts Students 🏰

This picture filled me with so much serotonin 🥹 y’all can refer to these headcanons as the basis for all the Hogwarts AU fics I’m going to be writing 😌👀 get ready I can’t believe I held out this long 😂

S.Coups

☆ When the sorting hat was placed on his head, it paused in thought for a moment as it decided between Slytherin and Gryffindor. In the end, though… “Must be Gryffindor!” His caring heart won out the ambitious houses’ battle! At least, that’s what the hat said, and Seungcheol is determined to prove it right!

☆ Seungcheol is a Half-Blood, but both of his parents are wizards, so he grows up pretty chill on all the purity stuff but not knowing much about how people with no powers live. It’s definitely a curiosity for him, though.

☆ His favorite subjects are Defense Against the Dark Arts because he likes the idea of being able to protect others from harm and Charms because he likes small, quick, useful spells.

☆ He signs up for Ancient Runes because it sounds cool then highkey regrets it. It just kind of goes over his head.

☆ Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team right here 😌 Athletic and a great leader, Seungcheol is honored to receive this role even though it’s so obviously well-suited.

☆ Intimidating AND adorable. Seungcheol’s Patronus can do it all! His guardian takes the form of a Rottweiler dog: brave, loyal, protective, sweet to those who it cares for 😌

Jeonghan

☆ When the Sorting Hat hits his head, it immediately rumples in confusion. “Oh, you’re an interesting one, aren’t you?” It waffles between Hufflepuff and Slytherin before finally declaring… “Can you hear him trying to bargain? Must be a Slytherin!” Jeonghan, for his part, just laughs.

☆ The Yoons are an old wizarding family and their son knows next to nothing about the Muggle world. Thusly Jeonghan makes up a bunch of bullshit at school about Muggle life to convince everyone he totally does. It works every time…so long as no Muggleborns are present at least.

☆ Jeonghan adores Charms class because it paves the way for so many useful spells and gives him a whole arsenal of things to use. He also loves Divination aka bullshitting class because he thrives, duh 😌 the professor loves him, too, because he participates so much and knows what to say, but somehow it escapes his notice how often his predictions are actually accurate.

☆ History of Magic is a lot to remember and not an interesting enough class to give him the drive to study hard, so it’s his hardest subject.

☆ He plays on the Quidditch team because his friend convince him to, but man does it turn out he’s a skilled Beater. This man is a menace with a Bludger.

☆ Thinking of his happiest memory, Jeonghan exclaims “Expecto Patronum!”, unsure what to expect until he sees the burst of light come flying out, taking the shape of a little crow that lands on his shoulder. Not what he was expecting, but the bird charms him immediately with the way it playfully tries to get his attention.

Joshua

☆ “Oh, aren’t you a fun one?” Joshua, frankly, isn’t sure how to take that. Try and be more fun? “What are you planning?” The hat chides, bringing a slight flush of embarrassment to his face. “Lot of crafty ones this year, eh? We have another Slytherin!”

☆ Joshua’s a Muggleborn, so sometimes he feels like a fish out of water, but man is he liking the air. He wants to see it all, understand all that’s moving around him, and use magic to his advantage and enjoyment as much as possible!

☆ Being skilled at languages, Joshua takes up Ancient Runes as an elective and actually really likes it. Decoding is fun and it could prove useful if he decides to become a Curse-Breaker. He also likes Potions because it’s a nice, calm class.

☆ Transfiguration lowkey stresses him out, like what if he goes to transform his stuff and it never comes back??? Or a person?

☆ Slytherin’s Keeper. Good luck trying to score when Joshua is on the pitch 😌

☆ A bunch of other students ooh and ah at Joshua’s stag Patronus because that’s the one famous people get. Or something like that. The tall, antlered figure is elegant, imposing, and yet with a gentle side as it bows its head to its caster regally.

Jun

☆ “You spend a lot of time thinking about others.” Junhui’s eyes widen- he wasn’t expecting to have so much revealed through the hat. “I- I try to,” he replied modestly, at which the hat chuckles. “An innocent mind. Hufflepuff it is!” He’s still trying to wrap his head around how the hat read him and what it meant as they help him off the stool.

☆ He’s a Half-Blood, his mother being a witch and his father a Muggle. He got more experience with Muggle culture than his brother did, so he ended up getting to bond over showing him non-magical inventions 🥹

☆ Care of Magical Creatures is absolutely his favorite class, like Jun gets so excited every day they meet wondering what amazing being he’ll interact with next. The day they had a kneazle cat was pretty much his favorite day at school ever. He also enjoys Muggle Studies because it gives him lots of materials for letters home to his lil bro 🫶🏻

☆ Doesn’t really have a class he hates, but Arithmancy takes the most work so 🤷🏻‍♀️

☆ He tries out to be a Hufflepuff Chaser, but doesn’t make the cut �� avid fan and watcher of Hogwarts matches who sometimes tries to follow the commentator up to his post.

☆ Can’t suppress a grin in Defense Against the Dark Arts when a cute little striped cat bursts from his wand, turning around to rub against his legs.

Hoshi

☆ “Bravery aplenty!” Exclaims the Sorting Hat, which makes Soonyoung grin even wider, his excitement growing, “Eager too. A hard worker, sure, but this one’s too daring for Hufflepuff. Better be Gryffindor!” “Yes!” Soonyoung knew he’d be happy anywhere, but he wanted to be sorted with the lions and it looks like he got his wish!

☆ Soonyoung is a Half-Blood. Pretty much all of the Kwons are wizards, but somewhere up the family tree are some Muggleborns, maybe even a Muggle or two. All are welcome in Soonyoung’s family, so he grows up with little understanding how anyone could care about things like that!

☆ Loves to fly! It’s his favorite thing ever, like good luck getting him out of the sky. He also likes Defense Against the Dark Arts because it’s an active class, one where he can move, duel, and practice being in a real-life situation.

☆ Feels like History of Magic is all in one ear, out the other 🤕 that class is a cram before the test vibe for sure.

☆ One of Gryffindor’s Beaters. A little too excited about it, so some accidents have nearly happened but hey, it makes for an exciting game 🤷🏻‍♀️

☆ When that time comes in Defense Against the Dark Arts, a bunch of his friends tease him that he’ll have a small Patronus like a hamster or something, but he insists it’s going to be a powerful tiger, and he’s right 😌 is too overjoyed at the sight of the glowing tiger to rub it in their faces, though 🐅 big memories and emotions = big Patronus??? Not guaranteed, but in Soonyoung’s case certainly!

Wonwoo

☆ “Smart kid,” the Sorting Hat comments when it’s set upon Wonwoo, “sure, you’ve got a bravery about you, you’re kind, but you’re a Ravenclaw!” Wonwoo just nods, thanking the hat- he agrees with the verdict, happily joining his table.

☆ Being a Muggleborn, Wonwoo has a drive to learn about how magic works. Why do some people have it? Why don’t witches and wizards seem to know this or care, especially if they care about bloodlines so much? He also wants to be one of the best just to put the people who doubt him in their place.

☆ One of the few Hogwarts students who actually enjoys Arithmancy and History of Magic. To him, they’re just calm subjects he can focus on and pore over, which is kinda his study method anyway tbh. It kinda works out though because then they go to him for tutoring.

☆ Boy is good at everything, none of the classes are really a struggle for him. Divination seems like the biggest waste of time, though, once he gets in there.

☆ Joins Quidditch as one of Ravenclaw’s chasers. He isn’t sure how much he’s going to like it, but he loves being part of the team! Quite an adept scorer.

☆ People all assume it’s going to be a cat, but Wonwoo casts a polecat Patronus. So, you know, he gets it in the name even though it’s more rodent. Polecats are crafty, comfortable in their home groups, and probably more similar to their caster than everyone might have originally suspected.

Woozi

☆ “Someone’s a hard worker,” comes the Sorting Hat’s teasing comment upon touching Jihoon’s head, “you’ll study well, won’t you? But that dedication…that’s Hufflepuff for you!” Jihoon is a bit surprised, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape at the news, but he likes to think the hat is right: he’s dedicated to his dreams, hardworking. Maybe that is his home.

☆ Being a Muggleborn, Jihoon has a bit of a tough time adjusting to magic. In some ways, he’s almost a bit resistant simply because he doesn’t want to rely on waving a wand for every little thing he could handle himself.

☆ There’s something so inspiring to him about looking at the stars, so he looks forward to Astronomy class. He also enjoys Transfiguration, the ability to make something new totally amazing him. He wonders what it feels like to transform like that.

☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts is kind of a boisterous, stressful class in his mind. All the running around and fighting isn’t really his style.

☆ Has enough other extracurricular stuff going on that he passes on Quidditch tryouts, but enough good friends play that he tries to make it to every game he can!

☆ At first, he isn’t sure why a bat Patronus would suit him, especially when everyone thought he was going to get a cat, but bats are known for using their voices to guide their way. They rely on their music and take time to trust, and Jihoon sees that as he bonds with his little guardian. Both of them take time to themselves, but thrive best in their circles when they come out of their shells.

☆ “Bad thoughts don’t often cross your mind, do they?” The voice of the hat muses upon its placement atop Seokmin’s head. “And you’ve a big heart, yes, indeed… most definitely a Hufflepuff!” Seokmin claps, happy to be in a house with some friendly-looking people and a bit shy to hear the hat say such nice things.

☆ Seokmin is a Muggleborn, both of his parents so proud to have magical children. He thinks it’s super cool too and always says he knew all along his family was magical 🥲 all the magical stuff absolutely amazes him, even the most tedious things are things he wants to experience!

☆ He loves Care of Magical Creatures because omg look! A unicorn! A real-life hippogryph!!! Bowtruckles! It’s all so unbelievable, yet so real, like dreams have been laid out before him. That’s the same reason he looks forward to Herbology, like where else can you see sentient plants?

☆ Loves every class! They are all exciting! *Ancient Runes has entered the chat* Ok, maybe classes can be stressful.

☆ He wants to get over his nerves on a broomstick, so to do that he tried out for Quidditch and makes Seeker. He likes that position because it’s a little removed from the pandemonium of the game and he can think like a Snitch 😌

☆ He’s honestly expecting a small animal, not feeling very brave as he shouts “Expecto Patronum!” but well aware he’ll just be ecstatic if he gets any animal form. Imagine his surprise when he gets a magical creature, a beautiful unicorn leaping from his wand! “I- I made that???” He grins, immediately reaching up to try to stroke its mane, awestruck at the beautiful, pure creature even if he doesn’t realize how perfectly it suits his heart.

Mingyu

☆ “You’re a bit bold, aren’t you?” Mingyu nods, thinking he’s supposed to answer the hat. “Not exactly the most courageous…” “Hey!” “Confident, confident certainly…” “M-hm,” he nods again. “You believe you have skills to offer Hogwarts.” “Yes,” Mingyu agrees. “Send this one to Slytherin!” The hat chuckles.

☆ The Kims are an long line of wizards, Mingyu one of many Pure-Blood sons. He doesn’t know much about Muggle culture, frankly, but has more privilege in lifestyle than he does prejudice against people with different blood.

☆ Potions ace. So good at it sometimes the other students are salty at him, but he just shrugs. It comes naturally for him, whether it’s preparing the ingredients or knowing just how much to add. He also likes Divination just because it’s fun. What do his tea leaves say? He legitimately wants to know.

☆ He does have a fear of flying, so broom lessons are not his favorite 😅 he’ll stay on the ground, thank you.

☆ Obviously does not join the Quidditch team, but is on the stands cheering super loud at every game!

☆ Everyone can’t help but tell Mingyu how perfect his husky Patronus is once it manifests, the goofy, vocal, affectionate dog running around practically looking like his twin!

The8

☆ As if drawn in by his aura, the hat muses as it rests upon Minghao’s head. “An artist, eh? Kind, forgiving, wise, and very calm too. A bright one. Ravenclaw, certainly Ravenclaw!” Between what he felt was a suitable sorting despite telling himself he’d be happy with anything and all the attention, Minghao practically glows at the hat’s words.

☆ The Xus are a Pure-Blood family, but Minghao’s parents are both avid Muggle Studies enthusiasts, so their son grew up with lots of knowledge and no prejudice. They all see magic as a chance to help others with less.

☆ Nature is important to this boy here, so Herbology is where his gifts lie. He’s so gentle with the plants and genuinely appreciative of them all, it’s a rewarding class to be able to track their lives. Following the movement of the stars is another joy of his as well as sketching the sky and making star charts, so Minghao does great in Astronomy too.

☆ There’s no class he really hates, but his magic isn’t as Charms-suited as it is focused on creative magic, so those quick spells actually take him more time.

☆ Because he likes flying, he tries out to be Ravenclaw’s new Seeker when the position opens up and earns it 😌 he’s so calm yet fast as he flies, it looks like he always knows exactly where his little gold friend is!

☆ People make jokes about his Patronus being a frog or something of the like, but they’re sure proven wrong by the beautiful swan that slides out, skating gracefully on the air around Minghao.

Seungkwan

☆ The moment the Sorting Hat hits Seungkwan’s head, it shouts out “Oh, we have a loyal one here. This one is a Hufflepuff!” A very decided ceremony for Mr. Boo 😌 he’s both shook at how little time it takes and happy the hat thinks he’s loyal.

☆ A Half-Blood! His mom is actually Pure-Blood, his father a Muggleborn. He loves magic, but also really enjoys learning about the Muggle world. Totally open to differences. Would even consider marrying a Muggle.

☆ LOVES Care of Magical Creatures. One of the students who almost always volunteers for demonstrations because he wants to touch all the animals! Unless they’re, like, giant bugs or something that’ll try to kill him, of course. Muggle Studies is really fun because it’s a way to connect with a part of his heritage and understand others. It gives him social ground with Muggleborns and even non-magical people he’ll interact with in life.

☆ Who made Arithmancy a class??? It stresses him out just to look at 💀 You’re allowed to drop electives, so he straight-up nopes out of Arithmancy and signs up for Divination instead.

☆ He enjoys flying, but being up that high and being chased by sporting goods that want to break your bones? Nah, he’s good, thanks. It’s much more fun to watch and offer comment, so Seungkwan becomes the school Quidditch commentator…and often gets chastised by professors for sassing rival times and whining about missed shots that were so easy, come on.

☆ Really really hopes his Patronus is strong enough to take an animal form, so when it comes out looking big he’s kind of proud yet shook. The light forms a dolphin that bobs back over to his owner, leaping in circles in the air around him and bringing a smile to his face.

Vernon

☆ “Interesting mind on this one, eh?” Those are the first words the hat speaks when it’s set on Vernon’s head. “A perfect fit for Ravenclaw, this one!” He’s proud. His mother was a Ravenclaw during her Hogwarts days, part of the most artful and creative-minded house. He can’t stop smiling all night!

☆ He’s a Pure-Blood wizard, his maternal grandmother having actually attended Beauxbatons before settling down in England. His father’s side always attended Hogwarts, so the school is really what joined his family. People tend to assume Vernon’s a Muggleborn, though, just because he looks so spaced out or amazed sometimes.

☆ Yet another lover of magical creatures right here! They love him right back too 😌 other students get jealous of how much they approach Vernon. He’s also quite good at Arithmancy, there’s just something about it that clicks in his head.

☆ Accidentally set something on fire in Potions class once. Enough said.

☆ Enjoys playing Quidditch for fun with his friends, but doesn’t try out for the formal team. He’s happy to support Ravenclaw alongside his classmates.

☆ Can’t help but laugh when his Patronus comes out as a small turtle. It’s cute, though, he and others defend it, a good embodiment of happy memories.

Dino

☆ Another pretty fast sort. “You’d make it in Gryffindor, sure,” the hat mutters, “but I believe your place is in Slytherin!” And with that, Chan is off to his table! He’s a bit surprised, having expected Gryffindor, but hey, Slytherins are ambitious, so the hat’s probably right. He’ll do anything to succeed.

☆ The Lees have a whole-ass family tree on display- they’re Pure-Bloods. A little proud of it, but frankly Chan himself doesn’t care, almost feeling that much more like being the one to break the line just to shut them all up about it.

☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts star! That one kid that always gets called up to show everyone how to do it right 😤 such a natural dueler and just really good at dispelling negative vibes 😌 he also enjoys flying a lot, it just helps him feel free to soar into the air!

☆ Conversely, he has a lot of difficulty in Potions class, which makes him want to double down on it so he’s no longer stressing about it!

☆ Slytherin’s Seeker 😌 he’s such a nimble flyer with great control, Chan was born to play this role!

☆ He lowkey wants something big and intimidating like a dragon or a rhino, so when a small burst of light appears he fears he’ll be disappointed. The moment the otter slides into view, though, all he can do is smile and reach for it, taking its hand to run after it and play, too.

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everlasting-rainfall · 18 days

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So for a request what about a Imu and Gorosei (together or separate) in the Fiction into Reality AU or Time travel AU, I think it would be a intresting concept and with the way you write I know it would be awesome, also I hope you get better l

Hey, thank you so much for this ask! Honestly oddly enough, the Gorosei are kind of comfort characters for me which probably sounds weird, but that makes me really happy to receive this request!

I don’t think anything will ever surpass Figarland Garling in terms of romantic comfort character though. The only one who’s close enough to surpassing him is probably Joyboy honestly.

Anywho, I’m starting to ramble, but I genuinely do want to thank you for sending this in so thanks a bunch! And thank you so very much for the compliment as well!

Now let’s get into it, shall we?

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Celestial Dragon Bullshit, Removal of Rights, Implied Mass Death, Being Accused of Cheating, Reality Changing around You, Gorosei being the Gorosei, Time Travel Stuff, Rainfall Probably Sucking at Time Travel, Forced DNA Test, Becoming Someone Else Against Your Will, Fusion

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

I HAVE NEVER, AND WILL NEVER CONDONE THE ACTIONS OF ANY CELESTIAL DRAGON

📜-Gorosei (Fiction into Reality)-📜

Genuinely I’d like you to imagine for a second, the five Gorosei of all people coming out of the One Piece world into the real one. Imagine how absolutely horrifying that would be.

Like imagine that you were like reading the latest chapters of the manga, or watching the latest episodes. You’re pretty tired so you decide to pause it, and leave it for tomorrow.

You go to bed, and in the middle of the night, you wake up to sound. Of course you probably assume burglars, so you pick up the nearest object to use as a weapon and peek out of your room. There are five well dressed men in your living room.

They’re all absolutely gigantic too like if you don’t have high ceilings, they probably have to bend over a bit or a lot. Let’s not forget how big these old men are… Seriously… Rob Lucci is 6’11, and only comes up to Shepherd’s waist…

Anywho they’re more than likely talking about where they are, and what happened as they don’t know how they got here. I feel like the first one to notice you would probably be Ethanbaron, he spots you and points you out to the others.

Saturn probably demands you come out. If you do refuse, and lock yourself in your room out of panic then I hope you have five seconds of peace of mind. That’s how long it will take for them to get in. What door? You had a door? There’s no door anymore…

Proceed to being dragged to the living room, and now you’re being questioned by the Gorosei themselves. I feel like either Marcus or Warcury would be the ones asking most of the questions. Once everything is all figured out, and they realize that they can’t get back on their own plus you can’t send them back. Your home becomes their base of operations while they work on finding a way back to their world.

Living with the five of them definitely isn’t the best thing… They’ve completely taken over your home like Warcury straight up tells you one that all decisions about the household are to be run by him, if not all of them before they’re made…

You might think that means like “Oh the window broke? I need to talk to Warcury before I have it fixed”, and that would be ideal. But nope. You need to ask before you do literally anything…

Need to go to the store? Talk to Ethanbaron so he can set a budget, and tell you what to get. Heading to work? Talk to Warcury so he can tell you what you can’t tell your boss. Going on a walk? Talk to Marcus so he can tell you where you’re allowed to be. Gonna go for a drive? Talk to Saturn so he can join you for research about your world. Need some alone time? Talk to Shepherd so he can decide if you can have it.

Really the only things that you can do without talking to them about it first are housework, and basic human functions. It’s honestly exhausting, and you wish they would find the way home already…

It’s already bad enough that they’ve taken over your bedroom, and anytime that they demand to come with you when you go outside. You get stared at because of how tall they are, and how they won’t let you get too far away.

Like seriously, you took Shepherd shopping with you once and while he was looking at something. You wandered off thinking he was following you, the man proceeded to hunt you down and threatened to put you on a leash if you ever tried to leave him like that again.

That threat became a reality when you got too far ahead of Marcus while on a walk… The next day, you were wearing a makeshift collar with a leash attached to it…

Trying to explain that you couldn’t go out in public like this didn’t do any good. The only thing that they allowed was that you could cover it because it could be seen as very sexual.

It’s safe enough to say that living with them is an absolute nightmare half of the time. The other half is migraine inducing, but as time goes on. They almost seem to start rewarding you.

You get your bedroom back, you get the privilege of having an hour of uninterrupted alone time, Ethanbaron allows you to buy one or two things that he didn’t tell you to get.

Now this might not seem like much, but considering what you’ve been putting up with? These little rewards might as well be a dream come true…

Continue on with this life for a good long while, and you might even notice that the five of them might be trying to court you in their own subtle ways. It definitely doesn’t seem like much though.

It’s things like holding the door open for you, offering you an arm while you’re walking in public together, joining you whenever you’re indulging in something that you enjoy like a show or book or game, and listening when you talk.

It might not seem like much, but they are interested in you… For them, they can’t figure out why you aren’t noticing their advances… They’re doing things they don’t normally do…

Eventually the five of them will start to become frustrated, and even trying to show far more of this behavior in hopes that you’ll notice.

Honestly as well, they have found a way home by now… They just refuse to leave you, and are giving you a chance to come willingly…

Of course you don’t, and simply continue on with what you’re doing. Maybe even talking to someone over the internet in a romantic sense.

None of them have any idea how your phone works beyond that you use it to talk to people, and this thing called the internet. So you might be able to hide it from them for a good while.

How they’d find out? I can imagine that would go one of two ways…

One is that Ethanbaron tracks you down when you’re gone longer than allowed from the home which causes to be caught. I’d hope that you aren’t kissing the other person either… Immediate death…

Or the other is Saturn reads your messages on the screen while sitting next to you. All he needs to see is one hint of romance, and you’ve got a pissed off Ushi Oni who is demanding you explain…

Either way though, a meeting is called and you feel like you’re being interrogated for a horrific crime. They’re demanding every single detail about this person.

You can try to lie, but I don’t think it’d work in all honesty… You’d have an easier time achieving world peace than lying to the Gorosei…

Once they have sufficient information, one of them will remain behind. I can imagine it might be Warcury to ensure that you go absolutely nowhere. Meanwhile the other four leave the home.

Proceed to a breaking news broadcast about the four others wreaking absolute havoc on the area where you claimed the person lived. They’re describing it as a real life Godzilla or Cloverfield movie as they show no mercy.

You can try to plead with Warcury to get the others to stop, but he isn’t listening. Telling you that you’ve brought this on yourself for committing adultery, now you must watch.

”Adultery? We aren’t married!” “Enough of this nonsense… Yes, we are… Nothing you say can change that…”

So you’re forced to watch this news broadcast, Warcury might attempt to provide comfort if you begin to cry. But it’s probably just a hand on your shoulder, or forcing you onto his lap.

Either way, you’re still forced to watch until it’s all over. The four leave, and return home now that they’re sure they got the person.

The television will be turned off, and they’ll probably talk for a bit before it’s time to go. You’ll be dragged through the television with them into the One Piece world. Your body changing, and warping to fit the One Piece art style.

There’s no way back now, and as you sit in the room of authority with your partners. You’ll watch as the One Piece world changes things to make you fit in, your outfit changes and five different rings appear on your finger.

None of them will come off, no matter how hard you try. And you’ll soon notice as well that each of the five has a matching ring to go with one of the rings on your finger.

For example. If a ring has gemstones formed to look like a wing pointing right, Marcus has the same ring but the gemstones are a different color and the wing is pointing left.

The five of them will be pleased as they know that there’s likely no chance for you to escape. They were just in the room of authority doing average everyday things for them when they got transported.

So unless the same thing happens to you which they honestly doubt it will. You’ll be here forever, and there’s nothing that these old men like more…

I’d honestly recommend that instead of thinking of a way to escape, you should start bracing yourself…. With the way they’re looking at you, it’s safe enough to say that punishment is imminent for your “adultery”…

🖤-Imu (Time Travel AU)-🖤

So there is actually a good few ways that Time Travel AU can go, as I play around with it quite a bit in my head. You travel back to the actual One Piece world, you travel back to some kind of warped caveman or some other warped time period version of the One Piece world, or the first one but the character follows you back to the future and won’t leave.

For conveniences sake, let’s say it’s the first one. Now let’s get into it for real.

So let’s say that you’re someone who’s been working on building an actual real life Time Machine. You finish it, you test it with like a random object or something, it works! Now why not try it out yourself?

When you do, you wind up in Marie Geoise. You’ve never read anything about this sort of thing in the history books, so you start looking around at everything and documenting what you can.

Maybe you run into a problem with a few Celestial Dragons who think that you’re someone’s slave. Proceed to what’s probably the biggest headache of your life dealing with these guys…

Celestial Dragons being Celestial Dragons will probably try to punish and/or kill you for disrespect. And of course, it’s very much an “Oh fuck…” moment with you trying to reach for your return to the present device.

Don’t worry though! Because before anything can happen, you’re suddenly being arrested… These people are far from gentle with you as they drag you off.

Proceed to having all of your items confiscated especially whatever item you could have used to return to present day. Once you’ve been sufficiently searched, the interrogation begins.

Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you get here? How long have you been here? What was your intention in coming here? All sorts of stuff like that…

But then there are the weirder questions… Are you a natural (hair color)? Do you wear contacts, or have modified your eyes in some way? Do you have a birthmark in this specific shape? Do you enjoy wearing clothes of this style? If I say butterfly, what do you think of?

You might feel like you’re being watched during this interrogation as well, and not by the people with you. Trying to ask if they feel the same thing gets you nowhere as you’re simply told to quiet down, and answer the questions.

Once the questions have finally ended, they take a few things from you… They cut your hair, they make you fill a tube with saliva, they take some blood from you, they even have you bite something to leave an imprint of your teeth…

And then you’re left alone in the interrogation room for an incredibly long amount of time… They do feed and water you, but that’s really it.

You might think that this is a prison sentence, but you’re just being held while they check your DNA… If it doesn’t have the results they’re looking for, they’ll dispose of you.

But when it does result in you having a match with the other person. That’s when they’ll come back to you, they’ll haul you off somewhere but much gentler this time.

You’re brought to a restricted area, and you’re left in a room with a lot of greenery. There are a few butterflies going about, and some flowers. Alongside a sword in the floor.

What you don’t notice at first is the dark shadowy figure watching your every move. Bright red eyes watching how you do every single little thing from sneezing to just turning your head.

This is Imu, and they’re conducting their own personal test to see you’re really who they think you are… So far, you’re passing…

You’ll start to feel that same feeling of being watched so you’ll look, and finally spot Imu. Of course, you have the only normal reaction to seeing Imu… Fear…

And honestly the way that you react to them is all that Imu needs to see to know that it’s you. They’ll come close to you, and reach out a covered hand to almost lovingly caress the side of your face.

They’ll touch their forehead to yours in contentment, and welcome you home in their own scary Imu way.

Proceed to living with Imu, and them refusing to let you out of their sight for even a moment… It’s downright unnerving especially when they watch you do simple mundane tasks like you’re a movie or television show…

Imu blames your behavior towards them on memory loss so they’ll do their best to remind you. Recreating moments the two of you shared, allowing their skin to touch yours in hopes that’ll bring some memories, occasionally speaking to you.

They’re honestly doing more right now than they ever have when it comes to you. Imu believes that they’ve already lost you, and they’re not intending to have lost you for even a moment longer. They intend to do whatever it takes to remind you of who you are.

From telling you about “yourself” to far more extreme things. Did Imu have an island wiped from existence before they seemingly lost things? Imu will find a reason to wipe out another to hopefully click something in your head…

The entire time that this is going on, you’re likely trying to find a way back to your own time. You can try to ask Imu for your things back, but I’m unsure if Imu will let you have them.

Can you use them to leave them? What are they for? Why do you want them so bad?

Your relationship did start off quite rocky in the beginning with you being terrified of Imu until Stockholm Syndrome set in… “They could use these items to leave me forever this time” is what Imu tells themselves… So no… You can’t have your things back…

And just for good measure! Imu has them destroyed!

So now that your way back to the present no longer works, time is all out of whack for you… You’ll become sick as time destabilizes for you, and it tries to figure out what to do with you…

You’ll look and feel like you’re at deaths door until time figures things out, you won’t die but Imu will be convinced that you are going to.

Imu will probably pull Saturn away from his duties as a member of the Gorosei to identify what’s wrong with you, and hopefully fix you. Of course, he can’t figure it out.

This is the most stressed that Imu has ever been, and it shows… Saturn’s inability to fix you is stressing, and angering them… If Saturn wasn’t so useful, and also your one chance at survival then Imu might off him out of sheer frustration…

Imu doesn’t leave your side for even a minute during this either. Does Imu need to sit on the throne, and address the Gorosei? Not now… They can wait, and if it’s really important then they can come here…

Imagine the visual of that scene where the Gorosei bow to Imu as they sit on the throne, but instead Imu is sitting on a bed with you.

Eventually though, your illness passes when time finally figures out what to do with you. You rapidly recover, and Imu is so happy that they could kiss Saturn. They won’t, but they could…

As you can probably guess, the reason that you’re recovering is because time has decided what to do with you. It’s decided to completely cement you into this time, and turn you into the person Imu thinks you are.

Where Imu is so happy to see you picking up old habits of yours, you couldn’t feel more horrified as everything is changing. You can’t stop it either.

Imu simply thinks that you’re recovering from your memory loss finally.

They watch in absolute joy at how you’re picking up mannerisms that they claim you used to have, you start to want dress in the clothes that you apparently used to wear, all that sort of stuff.

If you realize as well what’s going on with you, there’s probably only way to fix it which is going back to your own time. Which can only be achieved by telling this terrifying being the truth.

So you work up the courage, ask Imu to talk, and once you’re sitting down with them. You’ll try to explain everything.

It’s definitely no surprise that Imu likely doesn’t believe you…

But if they do? I can imagine that Imu reaches for you, takes your hands, and looks directly into your eyes. You can probably feel your soul getting sucked out the more that they stare until they speak…

“You may not be them… But with your explanation, you will be soon… And I shall have them back…”

Imu doesn’t care at all as if time is truly cementing you here, and turning you into their partner. That’s just a blessing in Imu’s opinion.

Whatever took Imu’s S/O in the first place is being wiped away by time as it does what it thinks is best. It’s making it so that you become Imu’s S/O.

Was there some sort of memorial, or wanted poster out there for Imu’s S/O? There isn’t now… It completely disappears…

With you being turned into said S/O, there’s no reason for that to exist. And if the S/O is still out there somewhere? Time might just fuse you together, and let you melt completely into one person.

Freaky, I know. But it’s the only explanation I have.

During this time as well, your memories might even start to be altered as well. The present will become harder and harder to remember as they’re all replaced with memories of your time with Imu.

A memory about relaxing on the couch, and watching a movie? Now it’s a memory about lounging on the couch with your head in Imu’s lap as they play with your hair.

Imu will watch as you try to fight these changing memories, and remind yourself of who you truly are. If you make any reminders then Imu will personally dispose of them.

They probably wont be too aggressive with you during this time honestly… They know that you’ll be “back to normal” soon, and everything will be exactly how it should be…

Imu gets their sweet dear S/O back. All they have to do is comfort you, and prevent you from making this take any longer than it needs to.

All will be well soon… At least in Imu’s opinion…

#minors dni #minor dni #the rain talks back #yandere one piece #yandere #reader insert #yandere imu #yandere Gorosei #Time Travel AU #Fiction into Reality AU

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years

Text

(Pt 5 of the Steddie ft. Rose Harrington AU aka my pathological need to sneak Wayne into every fic i write) | full version AO3 link

Steve was on Eddie's mind every second of every day. He couldn't believe that guy was even real: twenty years old and taking a responsibility that his father wouldn't, having so much love to give to a lost little girl when he obviously got so little of it from his parents.

There were two things he had to admit to himself. The first one: he was more than just in love. He was head-over-heels for Steve Harrington. And the second one: he wasn't nearly as brave as Steve. He knew that dating Steve would come as a package deal with becoming a stepdad – Rose might not technically be Steve's daughter, but in practice, there really wasn't much of a difference. And that thought scared the shit out of him.

'So who's the lucky fella this time?' Wayne asked him one evening, when the two of them were sharing a quiet night at home.

Eddie tried not to choke on the air in his lungs and stared at his uncle for a good few seconds. 'What?' he finally managed to utter.

'C'mon, Ed,' Wayne said. 'I been watchin' the game for almost an hour and you're pretending to watch it with me, without making a single remark 'bout how stupid it is.' His uncle snorted softly. 'You didn't even know we were watchin', did ya?'

Eddie stared at the tv screen, where – as he now noticed – a whole bunch of sweaty dudes was running around chasing a ball, then back at Wayne. 'I did not,' he admitted.

'So you wanna tell me 'bout him?'

Eddie sighed dramatically. 'He's perfect, Wayne,' he blurted out. 'He's fucking perfect, I'm not even exaggerating this time. But I can't ask him out.'

'He straight?'

'I'm pretty sure he's not,' said Eddie. 'We've been flirting a lot, I'm not even that worried about him rejecting me if I would actually make a move. But –' he sighed again, to make extra clear how distressed he was about the whole thing, 'He has a half-sister. A three-year-old. And he's basically raising her all by himself. So that's... That's a kind of terrifying commitment to make.'

'Hm?'

After years of living with Wayne, his uncle didn't even need to ask full-phrased questions in order to keep a conversation going. The two of them could understand each other perfectly well without words.

'I'm kind of serious about him, I guess,' Eddie admitted. 'So if I'd go for it, I'd also have to commit to his sister. And that's... I'm nowhere near ready for anything like that.'

Wayne frowned. He lit a cigarette, taking his time to come up with a proper reaction, thoughtful as ever.

'D'you think I was ready for you when you showed up on my doorstep all those years ago?' he finally said. 'Course I wasn't. I wasn't much older than you are now. And there you were, not a soul in the world lookin' out for ya. You won't hear me say that I didn't have a choice, 'cause that's bullshit, there's always a choice. You can always run away. But I made the choice to keep you and I never regretted it, not once.' Wayne paused to utter a soft chuckle. 'Okay, maybe I did, that one time when I was putting new wallpaper up at Maddy's trailer and you decided it'd be a good idea to sit your ass down in that bucket of glue and got the whole place flooded with it.'

'Yeah, I remember that!' Eddie laughed at the memory. 'I think I was still sticky for days after.'

'Got what you deserved there.'

Eddie lit a cigarette for himself, too, mulling over Wayne's words.

'So you think I should go for it, with Steve?' he asked.

Wayne sighed and took another drag of his cigarette to buy himself some more time to think. 'Look, I'm never tellin' you what to do, boy. All I'm sayin' is, it ain't easy, dating when there's a kid involved. Why d'you think I never been interested in any of that?' He shot Eddie a meaningful glance. 'It's 'cause you've always been my number one, Eddie, simple as that. And that's probably the same for your Steve and his little girl. It's up to you to decide if you can handle that or not.'

'It's fucking scary,' Eddie admitted.

'I know.' Wayne nodded. 'I know. I been scared for years after I took you in. Hell, sometimes I still am. That's an unavoidable part of raising a kid, even if you're not a real parent. You're gonna be scared to make mistakes, and you're sure as hell gonna make some mistakes. Lord knows I did.' Wayne looked at Eddie with slightly raised eyebrows, almost as if he was assessing him. 'But I like to think I didn't do that bad of a job, after all. Even though I had no idea what I was doin'. Makes me think that as long as the love is there, things will be alright.'

Eddie felt slightly embarrassed about the tears he had to blink away. 'You did a pretty okay job, old man,' he said in a somewhat choked voice.

Wayne didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. The slightly brusque pat he gave to Eddie's shoulder was saying enough.

🎵

The conversation with Wayne definitely helped to make Eddie a little less scared of the whole thing. After meeting Rose, his weekly lessons with Steve had become a little less flirty, like they were both holding themselves back – like Eddie wasn't the only one who was scared. And Eddie still had a lot to figure out, but he knew that he enjoyed his time with Steve in the practice room more than anything, and he wanted nothing more than to see that adorable blush on his cheeks or that hesitant smile around his lips. So maybe he joked around with him a little bit more than he was supposed to. And maybe he helped him with his finger positions a little more often than was strictly necessary. And maybe he spent a whole lesson on his posture, holding his shoulders and rubbing the tension out of his back, even though he didn't really need to. And maybe, maybe, it became a little bit more difficult with each passing week not to lean in a little bit further into his personal space and kiss him.

And maybe he was a little bit too disappointed when Steve called him on a Monday to tell him that he had to cancel his next lesson.

'Lucas usually babysits Rose on Wednesdays, but he has this important game that he can't miss, and I don't wanna bother any of the others, because I'm sure they'll all wanna be at the game to support Lucas and I don't wanna ask too much of them, so...' He trailed off, not really finishing his sentence; Eddie knew him well enough by now to recognize it as a habit of Steve whenever he was feeling anxious. 'I'm sorry.'

'No, don't apologize for that,' Eddie said immediately. 'Listen, why don't you just take Rose with you to the lesson?'

There were a few seconds of silence at the other end of the line.

'Are you sure about that?' Steve sounded hesitant. 'I don't wanna – I mean, it'll probably be distracting to have her around and –'

'Steve,' Eddie cut him off. 'Don't worry about it. I'd love to have her around. She's awesome, I'd love to get to know her better.'

Pt6

Taglist: @kardinalkalamity @imzadidragonfly @simpforsauron @undreamingscatworld @nailbatbabygirl @solosnail @theysherobinbuckley @sharpbutsoft @manda-panda-monium @piningapple @whimsicalwitchm @withacapitalp @kerlypride @bejeweledbaby @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @cheeseaddict-12 @henderdads @hammity-hammer @nelotegreitic @silentiumdelirium @mad-h-w @evix-syne666 @legitcookie @csinnamon-fox @deleataecount @sadcanadianwinter @shadowofaliar @and-say @connected-dots @thosemessyvibes @panicatthediaz @basilthefourth @swimmingbirdrunningrock @inikokoru @adaed5 @ali-just-ali @spectrum-spectre @paperbackribs @steddiewritingnerd (HOLY SHIT how are there SO MANY OF YOU??!!!?!)

#i'm not american so it'll always be my love for wayne vs my lack of knowledge about southern accents #i hope this kinda resembles how an actual southerner would sound bc i have no idea what i'm doing sorry #steddie #fruity ficlet #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson my beloved

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mixelation · 1 year

Text

i attempted to write some sasori girl au. however it turned out less zany than intended??? anyway new lore ahead

Tori stayed up late reading The Book, only to fall asleep on the couch. As per what usually happened when she did that, she was woken by someone shoving her off the couch.

Tori made some inarticulate noise from the floor and she watched her attacker prop his feet up on the coffee table above her. The Book was still clutched to her chest. The sound of the TV filled the room, and a pale arm set a mug on the coffee table.

“You know Sasori lives with you,” Hidan said, staring down at her. “You don’t have to read a book about him like a weird freak.”

“Takes one to know one,” Tori mumbled back, rolling herself over to crawl out from between the coffee table and the couch. Hidan kicked the back of her thigh as she went, because of course he did.

Hidan had a good point, though. Sasori should still be around the hideout.

“Why are you reading that garbage?” Sasori demanded when she showed up in his workshop. He paused in the middle of setting a bunch of disembodied arms out on his workbench, looking her up and down critically. “Also, I told you to cover your hair when you sleep. You destroy your curls.”

Tori was sure she looked like a mess. She didn’t care.

“You gave this lady an interview,” she said, cutting straight to the chase and waving the book at Sasori. “Or at least she says you did.”

A lot of people wrote into the official Sasori mailing list with crazy nonsense, about how their second cousin met him and learned his favorite fruit was peaches or something. There was no reason the author of The Book hadn’t also written a bunch of crazy bullshit.

Sasori eyed the book with a look of deep disdain.

“I was young,” he replied, and then turned back to his arm pile.

“You did?” Tori repeated, voice louder than she meant. This was an incredible, horrible discovery. This meant that Sasori had sat down with the original Sasori girl and answered questions and basically implicitly given her the go-ahead to write her vaguely horny Sasori biography.

Tori continued, “Have you read it?”

Sasori’s hand froze over a skeletal arm that had a bunch of metal spikes sticking out of it.

“Are you about to describe it in excruciating detail to me?” he spat out, eyeing Tori like she was some sort of horrible offense to nature.

“Just a summary,” Tori defended. “So you know the context. You said you liked when I explained things.”

His exact words had been something mocking about her being every Intelligent agent’s dream, because she offered up information so easily and thoroughly with very little prompting.

“I said your enemies would like it,” Sasori snapped back. “I hadn’t yet realized your entire personality was actually a series of advanced torture techniques. Hold this.”

Sasori had Tori hold various arms, because apparently she was roughly the same proportions as his next puppet, and he wanted an idea for scale of various modifications. This meant that he did let her explain The Book, which was a very long and meandering biography of Sasori that ended up being banned in Wind Country. It was obviously heavily dialed back in places, to make Suna seem more powerful and Sasori seem less terrifying, and yet all of this had utterly failed to hide the desperate hard-on the biographer clearly had for him.

An angelic face, she’d written. Tori supposed this was true, if you were unaware of the personality that went along with the face.

Which, like, if she’d interviewed him, how could she not have noticed he was a mean, violent, awful man?

“Hold it up higher,” Sasori commanded.

“Arms are heavy,” Tori complained. “Why’d you do the interview?”

Sasori reached over and pressed his hand under the wrist of the puppet arm Tori was holding, raising it up while he glared thoughtfully at it.

“I left Suna to seek artistic freedom,” Sasori said after a beat, pulling the arm out of Tori’s hand and replacing it with another. “I thought maybe having another person who understood would assist with artistic catharsis.”

That was… surprisingly sentimental, actually. Tori felt something tug at her heartstrings. She hadn’t realized she could still feel like this.

“Of course, I was young and foolish,” Sasori said, taking a step back to frown at the silhouette Tori cut with the puppet arms. “That woman asked useless, frivolous questions. What did she say about me?”

The chapter containing the interview was honestly the weirdest one. If Tori read individual lines of the dialogue, they did seem like things Sasori would say. He’d talked about art and beauty, and offered up a criticism of the teahouse decor that the biographer had found charming.

The thing was, this was all spliced around descriptions of how lovely Sasori was. The biographer waxed poetic about his exotic hair, the blush of freckles over the bridge of his nose, how casual and handsome he looked seated in this quaint little teahouse. She’d gone on for a very long time about how he was used to the refined teahouses of Wind Country with their plush carpets and gold-threaded pillows, and she’d contemplated how hard leaving must have been for him. She’d described his mannerisms with her and the waitstaff as polite and friendly, which was hilarious.

She also must have cut a lot of what he actually said about art, because there was only surface-level statements on things lasting forever and no mention of playing dress-up with people’s corpses. Most RPF writers made him a painter, wandering the world to paint…. frescos or some shit.

“I didn’t show her my art because it rapidly became apparent she wouldn’t understand,” Sasori said plainly when Tori described the borderline humor in her romanticization of his art. “Although, yes, it sounds like she omitted some of what I said.”

He handed her another arm and then started fucking around with its elbow, adjusting the length of it.

“You don’t seem mad about it,” Tori observed, watching him work. The forearm was all metal canisters– some sort of weapon. Her own arm was getting sore from holding it up.

“Why should I care what some nobody writes about me?” Sasori asked.

“Aren’t you your own best art?” Tori replied, her eyes glued to how his hands worked. “I know you don’t like when people don’t interact with art correctly. Isn’t it even worse if the art is yours?”

Sasori believed it was the responsibility of the beholder of art to bring themselves to the experience of art as it was meant to be experienced. Deidara thought it was the artist’s job to force a viewer to experience art the way the artist intended. It was a whole thing.

Sasori popped one of the canisters in the arm free and rolled it over in his hands.

“I don’t like it when people misrepresent you,” Tori tried.

Sasori snorted, setting the canister on his work bench and then reaching forward to further adjust the length of the puppet arm.

“You don’t like it when you see anything at all is represented in a way you feel is disingenuous,” Sasori told her. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

#tori 'if there must be sasori girls i think i should be the main one' mendoza #my writing

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