#because despite everything it was her. someone like him after all those years that fit that missing piece he didnt even know of days before

[mxbitters]

spent the last hour and a half getting emotional watching the dark crystal while my cat also watches the dark crystal but specifically the small animal puppets as they move across the screen lmao

[hero-the-meep]

Why is the Doctor making Donna a cup of coffee so significant?

Well, he is trying to impress her, to get her to travel with him again – like he tried to do by using the TARDIS to make it snow at Christmas the first time he asked her to travel with him.

But he got that attempt wrong. Donna doesn't like Christmas, and the Doctor having the power to make it snow "scared her to death."

A cup of coffee, just how she likes it, is (on the surface of it) a smaller gesture to show that he remembered the little details about her. A cup of coffee is what brought them together all those years ago.

But it's what Donna told the Doctor about what Lance making her that cup of coffee meant to her that the Doctor really listened to and remembered.

"I was temping. I mean, it was all a bit posh, really. I'd spent the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I thought, I'm never going to fit in here. And then he made me a cup of coffee. I mean, that just doesn't happen. Nobody gets the secretaries a coffee. "And Lance, he's the Head of HR, he didn't need to bother with me. But he was nice, he was funny. And it turns out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So, that's how it started, me and him. One cup of coffee, and that was it."

Donna fell in love with Lance because he made her a cup of coffee. So used to being unnoticed and uncared for, something as simple as an 'important' man taking the time to make her a cup of coffee meant everything to Donna.

She thought it was a sign that he was kind, that he was nice. She thought it was a sign he noticed and cared for her.

And the Doctor sees how it devastates her to learn the real reason why he was making her coffee was to drug her for his own ends. Despite their differences, he's gentle when he breaks it to her. And it connects her to him in a shared grief.

So when the Doctor makes her a cup of coffee after she regains her memories, he's not just telling her that he remembers the little details about her like how she likes her coffee, but the big things too.

He's showing that he sees her, that he cares about her thoughts and feelings, that he wants to care for her after all these years when he couldn't. That he knows how important this is to her.

But that's not all.

In the alternative timeline, Donna never meets Lance. And yet, when she is upset, and afraid, she asks Rose Tyler for a cup of coffee. Steam rises from her mug as they stand around the console inside the dying TARDIS, and have the most honest conversation they've had yet about the Doctor and their feelings towards him.

In the proper timeline, the person we see Donna drinking coffee with is Wilf. In moments of joy and moments of upset they bond over coffee. Before she finds the Doctor again, Donna brings Wilf a thermos to escape Sylvia's criticisms.

Wilf is the only person in Donna's life who she can be herself around, who has unconditionally cared for her, and who she takes joy in caring for back.

Even in the alternative timeline, Wilf has held onto not only the telescope but the exact same thermos Donna brings him coffee in when he's up on the hill.

For the Doctor to remember how she takes her coffee, we know they must have had moments together like this off-screen too.

So when the Doctor makes her a cup of coffee, just how she likes it, he is communicating he remembers not just the small details of her but that he remembers all these things that she associates with making someone a cup of coffee – kindness, acceptance, being noticed, caring for someone and being cared for, home, and family.

It's possible, for the Doctor, there's an apology in that cup of coffee too.

But wait, there's still more.

Did Donna spill the cup of coffee on the console on purpose?

The slight of hand was rather obvious. And it came at a time when Donna was trying to convince him not to leave her, to come back home to her, if only just for a visit.

He'd not said no, but she'd easily seen through him the first time he lied about coming inside to have dinner with her family that first Christmas, and likely saw through him again – the avoidance of eye contact, fiddling with the TARDIS, the wane "yeah, maybe."

She also rather clearly wanted to go on another trip with him (she never wanted to stop in the first place), and was only saying no because of her obligations to her family. It's possible she was buying time by spilling the cup of coffee – just one more than one last trip, without it being her "fault."

She had, after all, just dropped a cup of coffee on a computer and lost a job she'd probably hated, knowing Donna. And before things had gone really wrong, she'd definitely been enjoying herself.

It's also possible she's still quite angry with the Doctor, but unable to fully verbalise this yet.

He connects the cup of coffee to remembering every detail of her. She has not been able to remember any detail of her life with him. The last time they were standing around the console together, he took her memories against her will. He says it killed him; but she – or that version of herself, the one she actually liked – was arguably the one who was killed.

And she might be remembering Lance, another man she truly loved and trusted, and how a cup of coffee seemed like a kindness but was in fact a lie, a violation.

The Doctor quite possibly also suspects something like this is what might have happened, given his level of anger at her.

Despite the fact that this Doctor is more able to admit his feelings, we don't see what happened between them when he took her memories ever properly resolved in words.

Instead, there are a series of proxy arguments that stand in for it – Donna's anger that she gave away all her money because of him, that he sees taking the slow path, living a life day after day as such agony when he made her do it, his anger at her faith that he will know how to defeat the Toy Maker.

And their most emotional proxy argument of all – who is at fault for stranding them at the edge of the universe? Is it Donna, who spilt the cup of coffee, or the Doctor, who she couldn't stop from wandering off?

Thematically, however, there is some resolution. The Doctor lets Donna decide to regain her memories, even if it means she'll die. The Doctor knows Donna enough to save her from being left to die alone, even if it is at the very last moment. The Doctor admits he used to think he knew everything, but now he knows he doesn't.

Donna gets to tell him it's not all about him saving her, gets him to stop, finally gets him to come home with her.

And in their last scene, it's the Doctor who is having the cup of coffee.

[peakyswritings]

Lullaby || Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: It’s been almost a year since (Y/n) has started to work as Charlie’s nanny. For the first time, she finds herself in the position of breaking one of her boss’ rules, but his reaction might not be what she was expecting.

Warnings: mentions of death, age-gap (it’s not specified, I imagine (Y/n) to be in her 20s).

A/N: this is a mix of two requests by anonymous. I changed them a little bit to make them fit another thing I was already planning to write. I hope you like it🤍 Also, I couldn’t restrain myself from using Once Upon a December from Anastasia as the lullaby (Y/n) sings.

Word count: 1.4K

MASTERLIST

Dividers credit

“C’mon, Charlie.” (Y/n) whispered with a soft voice, gently rocking the three-year-old. “It’s late, you need to sleep.”

Despite all her efforts, the child seemed to have no intention of going back to sleep. His cries resounded in the silence of the night, desperate, probably caused by a nightmare. It wasn’t the first time he woke up in the middle of the night, and surely it wouldn’t be the last. It was quite a common occurrence, but there was nothing surprising about that. At such a young age, Charlie Shelby had already been through so much pain.

(Y/n) had been Charlie’s nanny for almost a year now. She had moved to Arrow House shortly after the late Mrs Shelby, Charlie’s mother, had died under tragic circumstances. As for her boss, Thomas Shelby, she rarely saw him. He didn’t spend much time at home, and when he did, he locked himself in his study until it was time to go out again. Everyone could see that the man was still grieving, that the guilt of his wife’s death was eating at him day by day. And Grace Shelby was everywhere in that house. In the portraits, in the photographs, in the very air the people who lived there breathed. It was as if her ghost was still lingering inside those walls, restless.

Truth was, some part of (Y/n) was glad she didn’t have to see Mr Shelby too often. His cold eyes gave her chills, and she always felt small under his expectant stare. It felt like he could read right through people. But she couldn’t complain, because despite his exterior harshness and his coolness, he was kind to her. She figured the reason why was that Charlie had become fond of her right away, just like she had become fond of him.

On the other side, Thomas Shelby piqued her curiosity. He was a peculiar man, she had never met someone who even remotely resembled him. She knew who he was, what his family did, and before meeting him she was expecting to find herself in front of someone entirely different. When after putting an ad in the papers she received his secretary’s call, she had considered refusing. But the pay was good, and she needed to get out of her house, to be independent, and the general terms of her contract were to good to be ignored. So she mustered up the courage and attended the interview, and to this day, she could say she made the right decision. Charlie was lovely, the staff was friendly, and she felt relatively safe in a house surrounded by men who protected it night and day.

(Y/n) sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. She had been trying to get Charlie to sleep for over an hour, but nothing seemed to work. She had tried everything: she had cradled him, given him water, she had even taken him to take a breath of fresh air in the garden for a while. It was all useless. There was just one thing she hadn’t tried, she hadn’t dared try, for if her boss found out he would probably fire her for breaking his rules. It was the first thing people would do to help a child fall asleep, and yet it was not allowed at Arrow House. Because Mr Shelby didn’t allow singing. But she was running out of options, and her boss was still out.

Just one song. One lullaby wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She hesitated, sending a look at the door of Charlie’s bedroom, then she quietly started to chant the lullaby her grandmother used to sing to her when she was a child.

“Dancing bears

Painted wings

Things I almost remember

And a song someone sings

Once upon a December”

Tommy closed the front door behind him, exhaling a deep breath. Another long day was over. However, not even the comfort of being home was enough to lift the weight pressing on his shoulders. Not anymore. It was always there, pushing down on him, waiting for him to bend, or to break. But he had to keep on marching, relentlessly, pretending that the burden wasn’t there.

He took off his coat and hanged it, trying to be as silent as possible in order not to wake the whole house up at that hour. As he walked further into the dark parlour, Charlie’s loud cries came to his ears. He was having troubles sleeping, again.

He made his way towards the stairway, squinting his eyes in the semi-darkness to see better, when something caught his attention. It was a voice, a soft, soothing voice singing a song upstairs.

Someone holds me safe and warm

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory

Tommy began walking up the stairs, step after step, drawn by the beautiful sound. He knew who that voice belonged to. (Y/n) was disobeying his orders, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be angry, far too fascinated. Soon Charlie’s cries faded, and the only thing that could be heard was her enchanting voice.

Far away

Long ago

Glowing dim as an ember

That hauntingly beautiful lullaby brought him back to over a year ago, when his late wife’s voice used to reverberate through the walls. Ever since her death, the silence had been haunting him, only broken by the echo she left behind.

Things my heart

Used to know

Things it yearns to remember

Tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes, but he was quick to push them back. He stopped at the entrance of is Charlie’s bedroom, watching as (Y/n) tenderly held the child in her arms, unaware of his presence. His son had finally fallen asleep, and the peaceful expression on his face reflected how safe he was feeling.

“And a song someone sings

Once upon a December”

She finished her song, and there was silence again. She placed Charlie back on the soft mattress and tucked him in, careful not to wake him up again. When she turned to leave the room, causing their eyes to meet, fear dawned on her young features. It was clear she wasn’t expecting to find him there. For a few seconds, neither of them did nor said anything. Then, as if remembering where she was, (Y/n) slowly exited the room, closing the door behind her. Her arm accidentally brushed against him in the process, the contact almost burning through his shirt. As they stood face to face in the hallway, she avoided his gaze, probably waiting for him to scold her, or fire her, or something worse. And a question popped into Tommy’s mind. Was she that scared of him?

(Y/n)’s heart was racing inside her chest as her boss’s unreadable gaze rested on her. She had never found herself in the position to fear him, nor had she ever had a reason to, but she had never broke any rule before, or crossed any line. And she had no idea how he would react to disobedience. The last thing she wanted was to get on the gangster’s bad side.

“It was a nice song.” His low voice pulled her out of her thoughts, making her gulp. Suddenly, she realised how close they were.

“Mr Shelby, I…” she stuttered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, shifting her eyes on the ground, finding it way more comfortable to face him without having to look at his impassive expression. “It’s just… nothing was working, and…” she started to ramble, but the words got stuck in her throat. “It won’t happen again.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, studying her, and his calmness made her even more nervous, for it made him unpredictable. Then something changed in his eyes. His features softened, and she could swear his lips curved into a small smile. “Go to sleep, (Y/n).”

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it right away. He wasn’t angry? He wasn’t going to fire her? Was it an emotion, the one that had just broken through his ever-unfazed face? She blinked, trying to recollect herself, deciding that it would be better to listen to him before he changed his mind.

“Goodnight, Mr Shelby.” She politely said, before walking past him to go to her room.

“(Y/n).” He called her, making her stop in her tracks. She turned around, her nervousness coming back again as she waited for him to speak.

“You’re allowed to sing, if you want.”

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

[fallingdownhell]

May I request Yae Miko, Dehya, Cyno and Childe getting defensive/angry/protective (whatever you see fit) about someone saying they deserve better then their s/o because they aren't in the best physical shape? (Be that being fat, disabled ect.)

Honestly? It felt so self indulgent writing some of this, especially Dehya's part, so thank you for requesting it<3 Also, since I'm writing about some conditions I'm not affected with, please let me know if I missrepresent any of it, and I'll immediately change it! Characters Included: Cyno; Dehya; Childe Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; various conditions on reader: being deaf/overweight/in a wheelchair; mean comments being made by others; characters defending reader; does that count as comfort??; not proofread yet Word count: 1,6k words Enjoy<3

Cyno

being deaf was never the handicap to you as others would probably see it

of course, it was difficult, learning to interact with the world and the people around you when you could not hear any of it, but rather than seeing it as a hindrance, you saw it as a challenge, one that you were determined to overcome

now, as an adult, things were going pretty well for you. Most the people you often interact with know about your condition, so they tend to be more patient when conversing with you

growing up, you began learning sign language to communicate with the people around you, as well as reading their lips. Over the years, you got more and more fluent in the language, so this was working out pretty well for you

Cyno, upon first meeting you, was fascinated by the way you percieve and interact with the world

despite the fact that you were not able to hear anything at all, you were the most lively person he's ever met, always smiling and laughing at everything and everyone around you, always seeing the good

after first meeting you, he immediately went and started to learn sign language as well. He had this desire to be close to you and spend more time with you, and he thought, in order to better communicate with you, he should learn how to talk to you

Now, a few years later, you've been in a relationship with Cyno for quite some time, and he could honestly say, that he's never been happier in his life

you brighten each of his days, simply by existing within his proximity, your smile was contagious and he often found himself just staring at you, never getting tired of your beauty

however, sometimes, there tend to be voices that question the relationship you have. Mostly people who didn't know you all that well, asking Cyno how he could even be with someone who could not hear a word he said

While he did pity those people, he always jumped to defend you. You may not be able to hear, but that didn't mean you were any less than anyone else in this world. In his eyes, it's just another thing about you that made you unique

It was always like this. Whenever anyone was talking bad about you, or telling Cyno that he should find a better partner, he always defended you, claiming that there would never be someone better than you

and if those idiotic people still don't get it by the lovestruck way he talks about you and continue to pester him, Cyno can get annoyed very quickly, not hesitating to draw his weapon on them

he wouldn't actually fight them, but the possibility of it being there scared them enough to run with their tails between their legs

but, at the end of the day, he never tells you about those encounters he has, not wanting to bring down your mood with it. He'd much rather enjoy the stories you have to tell him each day when he comes home to you

Dehya

when people were thinking about Dehya, they thought of a strong, independent woman, beautiful, smart and capable of many things. They respected her, and many wished to become the person by her side

when rumors came about of Dehya having a partner, people began to talk among themselves, guessing on who it could possibly be and what they would look like

No doubt would someone like her only settle for a partner just as good looking, smart and strong as herself, right?

well.. let's just say, the day you and Dehya became public with your relationship was a very... tough one

People knew you as being one of the most trusted merchants of Caravan Ribat. And while they all agreed on you being a very likeable and easygoing person, many of them also made fun of you behind your back, for the simple fact of you being overweight

a fact that you had always struggled with since your childhood. You've tried a many great ways to loose weight, yet either nothing worked or only had very short lived success

eventually, you gave up hope and stopped trying, instead learning to love and accept yourself for who you are

And exactly that love you held for yourself is what drew Dehya to you in the first place, eventually falling in love with all of you. Sometimes, you yourself couldn't believe that she actually loved you, questioning how you got so lucky. But not like you were complaining about it

Still, the glances and whispers people threw your way when you were walking through the streets, hand in hand with Dehya, often brought you down, knowing exactly what they were talking about

but anytime that happened, Dehya jumped right in, telling those people off, yelling at them to mind their own damn business. And it always worked as they hurried away, afraid of her wrath coming their way

whenever this happened, she'd always comfort you afterwards, knowing that, despite everything, words like that still hurt and weighed down on you. She'd then always tell you how much she loved you, how beautiful you were to her, pointing out everything she loved about you. It always helped to brighten your mood again

then one day, it just so happened that while you were out on a date with Dehya, someone decided to be bold and walk up to Dehya, finally speaking out loud what everyone was thinking

"Dehya.. why exactly are you with them?", he would ask, voice timid and quiet, yet he just had to ask

"You got a problem with my choice in parner, huh?", Dehya spoke up, ready to defend you against the entire world if she had to. She stood up from her place, standing in front of the guy as it almost seemed like she got ready for a fist fight

"N-no! I just meant... they don't.. exactly... suit you..", the guy tried to argue, but realised that with every word, he was just more and more digging his own grave

at this point, Dehya was fed up. She did not care for any onlookers as she beat up the guy. Once he was on the ground and apologizing profusely to her, she let go of him, instead addressing the crowd that had gathered around them

"Okay, everyone listen up because I'm not gonna repeat myself after this! They are my parnter, and I do not care what any of you think or have to say about it. It's my choice and you all better shut up about it, or I'll beat you up just like I did this punk!", she yelled and pointed at the guy still on the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth. Pretty sure she made him loose a teeth or two

surprisingly, after this encounter, people stopped commenting behind your back, your days becoming much calmer and more enjoyable since than. And even if you might not agree with Dehya's actions, you couldn't deny that it did have a positive outcome

Childe

most people would suspect that a person as active in their day to day life as Childe, would want a parnter that is at least similar to them in that way

yet, when they find out that his significant other is actually disabled and in a wheelchair, they can't hide the surprised sounds and expression on their faces

they can't possibly imagine how a relationship like that would last very long, seeing as the two of you would be polar opposites

oh boy, would they be surprised to find out that you and Childe have been going strong for several years now. Sure, you were not able to walk and sometimes, in specific situations, dependent on him, but those are also the moments Childe loved, when he got to show his strength when lifting you up or doing something else for you

at first, you felt stupid for having to rely on him in those specific situations, since you always strived to be as independent as possible, despite your situation. Yet Childe always comforted you, telling you that it wasn't a weakness at all to ask for help every now and then. On the contrary, knowing when you need help can be a great strength. So, that's how you decided to see things from then on, and it did help you a lot

and even though you were bound to this chair, that did not stop the enjoyment you held towards life. You loved traveling around, exploring the world and expieriencing it first hand

it helped a lot that Childe got to travel around a lot thanks to his work, so you'd always ask to accompany him. Of course, there were times where he couldn't do so, but most of the time, he was happy to take you along and show you all the places he knows about, and even discovering new ones with you

whenever he couldn't take you along on his travels, he'd always come back with a tone of souvenirs for you, along with so many stories to tell you that never failed to grab your attention, wishing that you could have been there with him

overall a very good, very protective boyfriend

the first few times he heard people talking about the two of you behind your backs, he went over to them, drawing his weapons, ready to kill whoever dared talk bad about you in his presence

word spread around quickly and soon, no one dared even mutter a word about your relationship, in fear that the Harbinger might catch wind of it and came hunting after them, ready to take their lives

Childe did not mind that reputation at all. He was already known as a battlehungry maniac, and if it meant people left you alone, not having to worry about ill intended comments, than all the better. He can handle it

the most important thing to him is, and always will be, your well being

[its-time-to-write]

Here is another prompt

Accidental stalker is kind of what I'm going for :)

Maybe Jaime and Reader accidentally bump into each other one day and both think the other is "fit" but just keep walking. They however keep noticing each other at there favorite places like the park, bakery and maybe a few others. Finally after seeing each other for like the eighth time Reader angrily approaches Jaime asking if he's is a creep who is stalking her. Jamie is shocked by this cause he thought she might be following him around (Like as a fan) they have a good laugh and realize they have a lot in common then maybe go on a date

I honestly just love funny fics where everyone is just confused

I thought this gif was a funny one to put with this story. Hope you like it!!

chasing shadows in a grocery line

You take a deep breath, then exhale. Finally. It’s the weekend, which means you have two whole days to yourself; no plans with friends, no work, no nothing. It’s like heaven. You woke up late, took your time making breakfast, and cleaned up around your flat. There’s a load of laundry in the washing machine, and now you’re dressed and ready to go grocery shopping.

It really is all about the little things in life.

You’re feeling productive, perusing the vegetable aisle, considering what you want to purchase for your meals this week. You’re in deep thought about a particularly large avocado when someone bumps your shoulder.

“Sorry,” says a voice, “weren’t looking where I was going.”

You turn and are met with the clearest blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, then force yourself to turn back to the avocado before it gets weird.

—

You decide to get the avocado, among other things, and now you’re headed to your favorite bakery. It’s small, but wonderful. You want to pick up a loaf of bread to go with dinner and to chat with the store owners. They’re an old couple named Helen and Max who have been running the bakery for years, and they’re a little bit like Richmond’s grandparents.

However despite their popularity, everyone seems to have their own time of the day they go to the bakery. You never see anyone you know there, but it’s where everyone gets their baked goods. You suppose everyone must go at the same time every week, which is why you always see the same three people shopping.

You reach to pull open the door right as someone pushes it open from inside.

“Sorry!” you say, “I didn’t see you there.” Your voice trails off a little bit at the end, because you’re staring into those same blue eyes from the grocery store.

He gives you a small smile and says, “Guess we’re even, then,” before holding the door open to let you through. You breeze through like you’re not completely flustered, and dare to take a quick glance back. 

He’s looking back too, and you quickly look away. You’re surprised you haven’t seen him here before, and make a mental note to ask about him. You’re not going to lie, he’s very good looking, and if anyone knows if he’s single, it’s going to be Helen. She knows everything about everyone.

—

It’s not until you’re walking back to your flat that you realize you forgot to ask Helen. She had pulled out photos of her newest grandbaby as soon as she saw you, so it completely slipped your mind. You’re lost in thought as a jogger goes running by you, and it takes a moment for you to register that it’s the same man from before. 

That’s a little weird, seeing him three times in one day. You don’t dwell on it too long, though, because you have Plans for the day that do not involve a fit, blue-eyed stranger.

—

Sunday means you get to sit in the park with a nice large book and a basket lunch, soaking up the rare sun and sounds of Richmond. 

You pause mid-chapter to listen to the world around you, the kids laughing, people chattering. You hear a voice near you say, “Oi, Keeley!” and you note that whoever it is, they say Keeley the same way grocery boy says sorry.

(You’ve taken to calling the stranger “grocery boy” in your mind. You figure it suits because that’s where you first bumped into him).

You half turn and find grocery boy looking at you, mouth half-open in surprise. He’s with a tiny blonde, you assume this must be Keeley, and a tall, very hairy, very grumpy-looking man. You give him a small wave, then turn back to your book.

You find yourself rereading the same sentence over a few times, way too lost in thought. What the hell is grocery boy doing here? You swear in all your weekend routines, you’ve never seen him before. He looks vaguely familiar, but that could be your mind playing tricks on you. You decide to call it a day and pack up your blanket, book, and food. 

It’s still a lovely day, so you decide to sit outside your flat. You have a few neighbors outside as well, and it feels like the perfect summer day. You’re leaning on your next-door neighbor’s gate and laughing at one of his outrageous stories about growing up in the late sixties, when you catch a glimpse of blonde walking by into the flat two down from yours. She’s accompanied by the grumpy man and… grocery boy?

You didn’t know she lived on your street. Her car is usually there when you leave for work and gone when you come back, so you’ve never actually seen who lives there.

Grocery boy looks at you and wrinkles his nose a little bit in confusion. You wrinkle yours right back.

This is getting really, really weird. 

You turn back to Mr. Davies, ready to hear his next story, but he’s just raising his eyebrows at you and grinning. You roll your eyes and grin back. He’s been trying to get you a date for the better part of the year, and you can only imagine what fuel this brief, meaningless interaction will add to his fire.

—

God, it’s Monday already. You make it through the entire workday so as you get into your car you decide, forget it, I’m going for kebabs. You don’t feel like cooking and there’s a place just up the street from your flat, so you’ll get something to take home.

You’re waiting for your order when the door jingles, signifying another customer. You half turn just from instinct, and immediately whip back around. 

Your heart is beating a little faster. This cannot be a coincidence. I mean really, what are the odd of you two running into each other so much? 

You try to take a calming breath, but it’s just a stutter.

It’s fine, you tell yourself, there are people around, it’s fine. 

You have a friend from uni who had a stalker once. He showed up everywhere, her favorite coffee spot, her job, her yoga class. One time he showed up outside her room so she called the police. Got a restraining order and everything. Turns out he had seen her once at the school library and decided he was in love with her. Now he’s not allowed within 150 metres of her.

Your name is called and you grab your order, purposefully not looking at grocery boy and trying not to think about the fact that he now knows your name. You’re out the door and walking as fast as you can without running. You’ve made it a good way up the street when you hear someone call your name and shout, “Oi!”

You walk a little faster, but not fast enough. Grocery boy has caught up to you. You suppose he’s so fast because he’s insanely fit.

You turn to him, gripping your bag of food tightly as if it could protect you.

“Why are you stalking me?” you ask fiercely.

This takes him by surprise. Whatever he was planning on saying has died on his lips as he digests this.

“Why am I… stalking you?” he repeats slowly.

You nod, hands clenched into fists. You mentally count how many people are around right now, just in case things go sideways. Who would have thought that cute, sweet grocery boy is actually insane?

“I’m not stalking ya, you’re the one following me!” he says. “What d’you want? An autograph? Tickets to the next match? A fuckin’ signed photo?”

Now you’re confused. “Why would I want a photo? You’re cute, sure, but like… that’s just crossing the line.”

He runs a hand through his hair, bewildered. You have the unfortunate observation that he looks incredibly attractive like that. 

Pull yourself together, you scold, he’s crazy, why are you attracted to him?

Your therapist is going to love unpacking that one.

“You mean.. you don’t know who I am.” He says it as a statement not a question.

“No..?” you reply. “Should I?”

“I’m Jamie Tartt,” he says. He’s met with a blank stare. “The footballer?” he continues. You shrug. “I play for AFC Richmond and I’m their fucking best scorer?”

“I don’t watch football,” you say. “Not really a sports kind of person.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “So you don’t know who I am.”

You shake your head.

“And you weren’t stalking me.”

You shake your head again, thinking about his fucking hot accent. You’re starting to piece together that he is, in fact, not crazy, so can you let yourself think he’s cute again.

“I thought you were following me,” you say, “because hello, most stalkers are men? And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a pretty good-looking girl, so it makes way more sense that you’d be the one following me.”

You want to kick yourself before the words are even out of your mouth. Where did that come from? God, you’re embarrassing yourself in front of this cute, apparently famous footballer. You suppose any chance of getting his number (like you fantasized on Saturday) is gone.

But Jamie is just looking at you differently now, probably because he has to recategorize you from a creep to… well, you don’t know what, but anything’s better than a stalker. 

You’re pretty sure you can’t be any more surprised tonight, but apparently you can, because the next words out of Jamie’s mouth are, “You’re really fit.”

You swear you’re getting whiplash from this conversation, and it must show on your face because Jamie just laughs.

“Noticed ya looking at that avocado, and might have bumped into you on purpose. Everything after that was just fucking weird though. Thought about asking for your number at the park, but I was with Roy and Keeley. Keeley’s too fucking involved in my life and Roy don’t care, but then, I dunno, it started to get weird.”

“You want my number?” you ask incredulously.

Jamie shrugs. “Seems like we’ve got a lot in common. Except football. Who doesn’t fucking watch football?”

You laugh. “I don’t know, I just never got into it!”

Jamie laughs with you. “Tell you what, you watch me play, and then tell me it’s fucking boring.”

Your laughter is dying down now, and you realize the sun is starting to go down. “I’d better get going,” you say. “It was nice to officially meet you.”

“Let me walk you,” Jamie says, “Goin’ to Keeley’s anyway.”

You smile and take his offered hand.

You suppose there are weirder ways to meet someone, and you’re not complaining.

[lorcandidlucienwill]

Who pulls the most bitches?

So I saw someone do something like this and I kind of wanted to do my own version with sjm characters. They get no bitches (besides that one girl who's a sucker for losers): Tamlin, Hunt, Ithan, Declan (only bc he's gay not for lack of game; he pulls ALL the men), Tarquin They get more than none but less bitches than you'd expect: Fenrys (bc he's with Maeve, poor boyo), Tharion (bc he's stuck with the river queen's daughter, oof), Aedion, Mor (because she has to hide her sexuality, rip) Now let's rank the remaining: Rhysand: for the supposedly most powerful fae guy to ever exist, he gets a surprisingly low amount of bitches. Perhaps it is due to his creepy evil reputation and the hatred for him within his own court: turns out a pretty face a male does NOT make. Even gold-diggers have standards! Cassian: I turned this over in my mind many times, but I realized Cassian pulls less bitches than Azriel after the line "I don't need to resort to poetry." He gets plenty of bitches because he's a bigass dude with muscles, but his shitty poetry is a turn-off to most eligible ladies. Azriel: he doesn't need to resort to poetry; he's a pretty boy with a cut body, but points have to be deducted for lack of game and pining over Mor for 500 years and being obsessed with having a mate (yuck). Dorian Havilliard: Come on, guys! He's a hot prince! Of course, he gets all the bitches. He's a little immature but he grows out of it! I mean he pulled the fucking man-eater, for God's sake. Points deducted for falling for Celaena wayyyy too fast (and getting rejected) and for his healer girl getting decapitated (rip Sorscha). Rowan: we KNOW this guy gets aaaaaaaalllll the bitches. Come on, he's Rowan-rutting-Whitethorn! Points were deducted for the whole Lyria thing AND serving Maeve for so long. Lorcan Salvaterre: He gets even more bitches than Rowan because... "Battles, riches, females- Lorcan always won, at any cost." And it's even said Rowan often allowed him to win. So yeah, he pulls a lot of bitches and participates in crazy orgies with his homie Rowan. Points deducted for being Stockholmed by Maeve (poor Lolo). Ruhn Danaan: I mean we already know the man's got game (evidence: CC2 chapter 3 plus all ruhnlidia chapters). He's also a young (by Fae standards) prince who lives in a fucking frat-boy house. And that sad-boy thing he's got going on? Girls love that. Eat it up. All the bitches wanna sit on him to take away his sorrow. Points deducted for crushing on a lesbian (oops). Tristan Flynn: Man gets even more bitches than Ruhn because he's just hornier and he's obsessed with his hair. Also, did you see the fire sprites becoming his cheerleaders? King shit. Points deducted for failing to rizz up Ariadne. Eris Vanserra: Come on, he's an Autumn Court male. Plus he's a Vanserra! It's practically in his blood! Points deducted for being rejected by Mor and Nesta tho. Chaol Westfall: Man gets a shockingly high number of bitches despite being a human character who until Dorian became king had a pretty lowly position. I mean, there was a literal PRINCE and his cousin hanging out and the girls were all drooling over Chaol. When he had a disability (which unfortunately due to prejudices that exist, often make you "undesirable" in the eyes of many) and he rizzed all those women, including Yrene, harder than Kashin. EVERY. GIRL. CHOSE. CHAOL. OVER. A. LITERAL. PRINCE. Both in Adarlan AND the southern continent. You're telling me he doesn't have the rizz??? A half a point deducted for being too hung up over Celaena (I don't blame him but still). But still, he pulls sooooo many bitches. Lucien (Vanserra? Spell-Cleaver? Cunt-Server?): Come on. Is there anyone else fitting to be number 1???? Man's got EVERYTHING Chaol has, PLUS he's the son of a High Lord and he's got that Vanserra rizz. Fuck it, he wouldn't stop at bitches. He'll pull every mfer to ever exist. If it breathes, it's into Lucien Vanserra. He is THAT guy.

[randomsufff]

ALRIGHT since at least 6 of yall wanted it here it is- my Adachi Channel concept 🎉 (ft. a quick comic of how their intro dialogue would go)

Boy where to start- there’s quite a lot under here so beware

Ok so- my first thought was “ if Adachi had a channel, what would his dark secret be” and I thought it would be that he secretly loves the Dojima family and wants so bad to be officially part of that (the adajima shipper in me saying he would love to get with Dojima and sort of become an official dad figure to Nanako) and so scared of them leaving him

I think in game, it’s shown Adachi actually cared for Nanako a lot, as he was always looking out for her and felt remorseful that she got hurt because of his actions and he even says in his letter at the end that he valued his times with the Dojimas

But it’s also largely based off of the Persona 4 Golden anime, where there’s a little section that expands upon Adachis background and his relationships with the Dojima’s. Specifically, that one part where Dojima, Nanako and Adachi are all holding hands before Nanako runs off to greet Yu and then it cuts to those three walking while Adachi stands dejected behind.

Anyways- within this background it’s shown that Adachi has pushed away every opportunity to connect with his peers in any way, no matter how much he wanted to, because he wanted to focus on his studies. And it ended up being all for not anyways because he never won any awards or got any serious recognition for his efforts and was instead relocated to Inaba (middle of nowhere town as someone says).

So here Adachi is- no serious friendships or relationships, who just moved to a town where there isn’t much to do anyways, who meets Dojima and his daughter who end up being his first genuine friends/companionship in YEARS.

Despite Adachis whole thing about thinking relationships are stupid and restricting, I think he finds himself caring about these two, and having them care for him, in a way he’s never experienced before. OF COURSE he going to latch onto that, and is going to be terrified to lose it when Yu- someone who’s ACTUALLY blood related to the family and not some sad coworker who tags along cause he got no friends- swoops in out of nowhere and starts taking their attention and affections.

So how does that relate to 1950s American housewives- well, again, if Adachi whole thing is wanting to stay together and wanting to keep their affections- and Yu who’s a part of the family is taking priority over him- best course of action would be to place himself into the family. Becoming a wife type to Dojima and a mother to Nanako.

Now not sure if Japan had a similar era, but I know the 50’s were alllllll about appearances and LOOKING like a perfect family; the woman stayed at home and were perfect wives and mothers who did all the cooking and cleaning while the men did all the work. I think that’s also why the “killer housewife” trope came around, cause they snap under being so much pressure. This not only fits into Adachi mask of being a dumb detective when he’s actually a villain but also how he views his relationship with each of them.

Adachi is an assistant for Dojima, and we see in game how mistreated he is: getting coffee and beaten around. Unfortunately, I feel like that’s very similar to how woman in the 50s were often treated by their spouses- as assistants rather then wives. Obviously, as I’ve said, he’s taken on a motherly role towards Nanako- being concerned over Dojimas lack of parenting towards her and trying to look after her himself.

And since Palaces often take these sentiments to the extreme- I thought Shadow!Adachi would think himself as a replacement of the dead mother, (I forgot her name 💀) saying he can take her place and give them everything they need.

OK SO HOW WOULD THIS FIT STORY WISE IN THE GAME? So people show up on tv if they’ve caught the eyes of the public right? And Nanako got on cause of an interview so I would think Adachis rise of interest in the public would be the similar. At the very least, when the tv covers the two murders, Adachi would do some stupid thing that would accidentally be caught on camera and everyone would wonder who that bumbling idiot was. In my eyes, I think this happens after everyone had joined (so after Naoto) but before any of the endgame stuff with the red herring and Nanako and stuff. So perhaps the news does a follow-up on the lead detectives on the Telephone Pole murders since there’s not been anything new happening and they want to know if it’s passed or if they still have to keep working, and eventually Adachi comes along and like- idk spills coffee on the reporter or something, and since it’s live- the everyone figures out Adachis name after Dojima barks it at him to get his act together.

Boom he’s on the tv, boom the guy chloroforms him and throws him in the tv, boom Adachis like aw fuck.

I don’t understand how Adachi got his persona in the first place? I looked it up and it said it was cause he was so fucking lonely and because he had no relationships he developed a persona. Ok???? Didn’t know that was an option??? But in this universe- Adachi doesn’t have his persona and instead awakens it after confronting his truth like every other person, because thems the rules, instead of just developing one because you’re chronically lonely. (If we REALLLY wanted to it could be like a Akechi situation where he has two- but eh )

(Oh also- I’d imaging his channel introduction scene thing would be like, sitcom esc? Like a- ha ha come see how quirky my family is or something? Like I Love Lucy or any of those old American sitcoms)

So anyways he’d be like “fuck, welp this can’t be too hard to survive, I just have to keep being in heavy denial like I always have-“ and tries to keep up the stupid act, especially when the Team rolls in, but then the Shadow gets to him by implying he has a meaningful relationship with the Dojimas (aka he NEEDS them cause he prolly would have offed himself months ago from boredom and/or lack of friends ) which pisses him off and triggers the fight.

(This could be some slight foreshadowing the Adachi is not what he seems as his masks slips and as his Shadow occasionally spits out some of his ideology and stuff)

Boom, fight ends when Adachi confronts that yes, maybe he does have a meaningfully relationship with the Dojimas. He’ll then be like, well obviously I can’t join your team, I’m part of the actual detective team, but maybe I can share insider info with you guys- while he secretly gets the first hand scoop of the Teams plans.

Obviously this does not undo what has been done, and with everything rolling to its natural conclusion there’s nothing Adachi can do to stop what has been started. He’ll keep doing what he’s doing tho, It’ll be even more tragic when he realizes he’s put both Nanako and Dojima in serious danger and make him spiral more into denial towards the end. Saying how those relationships don’t actually help him with anything, that they cause him more pain more suffering then when he had no one to care for but himself, that’s he’s still in a shitty place in the world etc etc.

Bam- after he’s defeated and the God is defeated it’ll smooth his transition into slowly accepting that friendships do help, and his connection with Dojima and Nanako stay strong after everything is proof of that

Ok I’m kind of just writing shit now- it is very late and I wrote a lot so if it doesn’t make sense, oof, but I how you get what I mean cause this concept fits like perfectly in all aspects into Adachis character 👍

[perfectfangirl]

notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep1

so once again like a crazy person [i've done this with star wars sequels before] i've decided to take three and half pages of notes over the course of an hour. i've been a fan of the games for at least a decade and i'm actually always watching lore content between the installments though so while i do know some minute details, within the show, there was some things i was interested in and curious about that i just decided to jot down. some of this may be things discussed already and some of it might be something i wasn't sure if anyone brought up before but anyways! maybe i'll do the whole season, but here's my ramblings • them titling the episode "the end" was when i knew i'd love the show • ok but i really wonder if cooper can still do those party tricks? he was really good at them and lucy would probably love them too 🥺 • thinking back, the radio in the first scene mentions not knowing where the president is--- beginning to wonder if he was the guy sitting in on the vault tec meeting • just realized they introduced the mr. handy robot in some of the first scenes • ten years of nuclear threat according to anchor but the show is careful not to give away all the cards because why does the weather anchor make it seem like they know when the bomb will drop? idk but birthday boy mother turns off tv real "head in the sand" like • the nat king cole song that's playing though [wondering if the song is mirroring specifically cooper's feelings about barb despite everything hmm] • horse's name is sugarfoot 🥹 • him having to pay alimony... wonder what the prenup? was like... [still think he probably loves barb 😞]

• them calling him a pinko despite him being an architect of vault boy's persona, a quintessential presentation of a "man's man" acting as a cowboy, a real cowboy, a former marine--- wondering if there was a smear campaign after his situation with barb and vault tec, him working children's parties leads me to believe... • did the kid's say the birthday boy's name was boyd? [if so, there's another character in the games with this name and this is also the name of a character walton has played in another series, funny] • weather man show's up again distressed, wondering if we'll get more info about that day • everyone ignoring, cognitive dissonancing their own nuclear annihilation is so prescient if not disturbing and damning

• him teaching janey the thumb thing ☹️ • cooper's voice when he says "let me see if i can't rustle you up a piece" 😩 • janey being the only one to notice the first bomb • the fear in cooper's eyes • cooper being in denial one last time before realization sets in • people becoming animals the moment they realize what's happening--- one guy punches his friend not letting his family into the fallout shelter • people getting into their cars and cooper onto his horse to escape--- wonder how fast they could be since it doesn't seem you could outrun nuclear annihilation

• lucy being raised so well under the circumstances 😔 [hope she never becomes her father] • i haven't trusted steph since episode one • lucy being a teacher [amongst other things] and asking maximus about what happened after the bombs fell makes so much sense [and also much like another person suggested is an interesting juxtaposition to cooper's pre war knowledge] • lucy showing how skilled she is for being a marriage candidate when in reality we are seeing someone fit for the wasteland is crazy on second watch • is lucy not watching a cooper howard movie with her dad? hello??

• them reading "war and peace" in the family book club is rich • lucy [thinking] she's not good at guns, ironic • steph having to step in like a sisterly type because lucy's mom isn't there 😞 • the wedding dress on lucy being ill fitting, tight as symbolism for lucy not truly "fitting in there" and being constrained [foreshadowing] oof • the vault boy sign in the back saying "don't lose your head" lmao • didn't catch the "cousin stuff" until someone mentioned it on tumblr and twitter 💀

• the flashback we see of lucy ending up being almost a false memory, a misrepresentation of her actual memories, that she has been on the surface, in the sun • norm taunting lucy about her future husband being "anybody" and a "cannibal, crammed full of tumours" 😭 unfortunately for ghoulcy, this was some of the heaviest foreshadowing [the raider also could have been one too] • why didn't hank recognize moldaver? • so many things i still don't understand about vaults 31, 32, 33 • the growing realization they are raiders was pretty funny to me lmao

• moldaver having to sit through the disingenuous lies of hank ugh • norm going into vault 32 like they wanted them to know what was up? or is that just how vault doors work? they used lucy's mom's pip boy [that hank lied about burying] • lucy putting norm in a storage vault, she really is so strong • the handed down wedding dress getting messed up • i am curious if the raiders [shady sands survivors?] only mostly harmed vault tec aligners but maybe not • the way hank and steph retaliating a little too well • hank acting like he doesn't know moldaver when everyone really does know moldaver • moldaver telling lucy she looks like her mother is really such a tipoff

• realizing maximus is getting bullied 😭 • dane... might love maximus a little idk • from latrine duty to basically ruling over the brotherhood of steel • they really showed some dude jacking it lmao it's just normal i guess 💀 • maximus being defeated and having a rightful outburst of emotion, poor guy • the poster saying "the outside world can never harm you"--- funny • chet would've died up there 😭 • them not opening the vault back up for her, wondering if the vapourized bodies are from the initial bomb drop or the subsequent shady sands ones • dane almost gets maximus killed three times tbh • maximus joined the brotherhood of steel to get back at what vault tec did, essentially hank's doing, hank has many enemies • knowing the enclave, it makes sense why siggi is hunted • cooper the ghoul's introduction though • the bounty hunter saying his captors dig cooper up every once in a while to cut pieces of flesh off him 😞 no wonder cooper acts the way he does 😔 he's been taken advantage of, no wonder he doesn't trust anybody and is horrible to everyone • "why is this an amish production of "the count of monte cristo" or the weirdest circle jerk i've ever been invited to?" why would he say this 😭 • cooper's... been invited to circle jerks 👀 • does the bounty hunter know the ghoul is cooper howard?

• him not harming the chicken, him healing dogmeat, there's something there, folks • people only digging him up to use him again 😞 • what a coincidence he's dug up just as lucy leaves the vault • "i do this shit for the love of the game" he's a character, he's playing a character, real theatre kid • hence why cooper is introduced as "the ghoul", cooper is long gone • "us cowpokes, we take it as it comes" something about this lineee

[leonw4nter]

My Daddy Forever, You’ll Always Be

ID!Leon + GN!Child

Dad suffered a lot. Uncle Chris or Aunt Claire tells me just how much he suffered and how he continues to suffer. No one had to tell me that my dad pushed all the suffering back and didn’t feel into them just to take care of me, even when the scrape on my knee was nothing compared to the fracture in his collarbone or the swelling of his eye. I do my best to be there for him, reminding him to celebrate birthdays or find happiness in the mundane like coloring books but I guess even that isn’t enough to fill the mom-shaped hole she left in his heart. No one’s going to fit in there, not even me, and I don’t think dad wants anyone to fill it in and that’s okay because I have a mom-shaped hole in my heart too, even if I only know how mom looks based on pictures in the frames and photo albums dad loved to look at.

On every birthday he has, we always prepare two candles– one for him and one for mom, even if they don’t share a birthday (they’re six months apart). Dad always sadly sighs when he blows out her candle; I think he hates doing that. I hate observing that though they were born a few months apart, they’re even more apart now that one of them is still on Earth while the other is in heaven now. Despite the fact that I sort of killed mom by being born fussy, Dad still loves me and does his best to be present in my life. He knows which dresses to buy and doesn’t mind wearing make up, even when the lipstick is smeared or if some powder got into his eyes. Sometimes I think he’s trying to make up by treating me well because I look like the splitting image of my mom and he’s trying to suppress the guilt every time he sees me but I don’t mind; he lost a woman who’s been around in his life longer than I have been. He lets me sleep in his and mom’s room sometimes, letting me sleep in what he said was her side of the bed. If we both couldn’t sleep, he could talk about anything and everything but her. There was one time where I told him that my classmate’s mom remarried after her dad died in service and that she was happy and I asked him if that would make him happier.

“Marriage is how you know that your love persevered through tough times. A second marriage is proof of how you were willing to give yourself another chance to love. I don’t think I can marry again because I know I won’t be able to love someone else as much as I fiercely love your mother,” was all he said before I turned to face him, his chest shaking slightly and tears streamed down his stubbly cheek. I apologized to him and quietly promised that I won’t ever make dad cry again and that I would do my best to make sure dad stayed happy.

Dad isn’t very keen on writing; he’d much rather install a tile and get dirt underneath nails he maintained than write on several pieces of paper back to back but I notice that he began buying stationery in order to write letters but those letters were never sent. He keeps them in a womens’ shoe box and occasionally takes a letter out to read as he quietly cries to himself. On the night of what would be five years since mom left us, I woke up in the middle of the night to find dad’s side of the bed empty. I got up and saw him sitting on the floor as he hugged the shoe box close to his chest.

“Will we ever see each other again? How long until you’ll come back to me and our daughter?” was what I heard as he continued to cry. I have heard Dad cry but never as gut-wrenching as this. I continued to watch him cry, tears of my own spilling and I felt bad for him. Aunt Claire told me that dad never showed fear when he was at work, shooting and defeating the bad guys but whenever he looked at me, there would always be a small tinge of fear in his eyes. She said that he just didn’t want me to see the world the way he saw it, whatever that meant. I couldn’t take it and I ended up sobbing, maybe as hard as dad did. He heard me and got up, walking over to where I was hiding. He lifted me and hugged me tight, pressing kisses to my hair and repeatedly apologizing for being a little too loud when I was sleeping. If only Dad saw that he had nothing to apologize for but how could he see that when the splitting image of his wife is me and my face reminds him of what he gained and lost on that day?

I hope Dad doesn’t beat himself up for losing what he had left of mom. I hope he doesn’t feel sad whenever he sees another dad with his wife bonding with their daughter in a park. I hope he doesn’t cry whenever it’s his birthday and he pokes a third candle into his cake. I hope he doesn’t consider himself a bad father because I would rather live a short life with dad than a long life without him. It made me sad how dad would never see me in a wedding gown and would probably never walk me down the aisle or have our daddy-daughter dance; after we watched the movie Father of the Bride and seeing dad get all emotional about it, it kind of made me a little happy to image dad being so excited for me. I hope he will be kind to himself and let himself experience happiness. I hope that God would let me be reborn as dad’s best friend so I can help him get through what he went through. He would’ve been a pleasure to walk to school with. Hmm. Maybe he’d be the type to remind the teacher of homework.

NOTE - Sorry for dropping this short and mid ass fic, I just had to hop on my computer and write this one bc I came across this one wedding tiktok where the dad sees his daughter who's getting married for the first time and I cried then suddenly remembered I wrote an angsty fic where Leon's kid dies and I decided to add this as the kid's POV. I was too sad okay I just HAD to write one up but looking back at it, now that I'm not that sad, it's actually... ehh. A for effort, I guess. Anyways, that's it and thank you SOOOOOO much for reading my fics, it means a lot to me :) I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[puhpandas]

I like that a lot of the tragedy about new fnaf is about how everyone lived, in contrast to the tragedy of old fnaf where everyone died

like gregory vanessa cassie the animatronics everyone had their lives ripped away from them because of the same source, but they didnt end after that.

the animatronics 'lived', but it was in an abandoned falling apart building while they're broken themselves and slowly losing their sanity. gregory survived the mimic and ggy and the streets but he'll never get back those years of childhood he lost or his parents or friends or old life and he has to live with that and the trauma from everything forever

vanessa lost her life and her free will right as she would have been free from her dad for good and was still put down and hated even as her alter ego. she was forced to leave her little support systems and drag other people into the same boat as her and kill people and after she gets freed abruptly she just has to. get back on her feet. and get a job and take care of Gregory and Freddy and somehow keep living a life as normal as anyone else but things are so different and she doesnt get a chance to sit and process everything

cassie doesnt die in the elevator crash and instead goes on to be trapped underground with something getting in her head. she gets taken over all alone by herself thinking that vanny was a friend and getting 'betrayed' again. once again someone's life is ripped away from them as they're forced to serve this virus, and its made a hundred times worse because no matter what it happened to cassie because Gregory wasnt fast enough. and theres so much tragedy in Gregory failing to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else let alone his best friend

and the tragedy that none of them will ever be free despite how they live on unless they kill the mimic and vanny for good, but theyve always just been too scared to do it. "the family missed the greatest opportunity of their lives" "the woman would kill the witch in the morning" they didnt kill them both when they could have and now other people are getting hurt along with themselves having to deal with it again after thinking they were okay.

and theres also tragedy in the glamrocks and how they lived in the pizzaplex. no matter how you view their sentience theyll always be seen as characters and machines and not real people despite how theyre literally alive and living. and alongside that in canon they push the idea of the animatronics not wanting to fit themselves into the character box (freddy) or not feeling like they deserve to be who they're supposed to (roxy) or not even trying to fit the bill because they're so overtaken with anger at it all (monty) or their programming making them crazy and obsessed with their characters gimmick so they're always trapped no matter what (chica). and how fronnie loved eachother but not only would the brand not have allowed it but bonnie gets decommissioned and Fazbear entertainment doesn't see it as worth it to keep him in the character roster so they just. dont. and Freddy has to deal with how unfair that is.

I just love SW era fnaf and how they do tragedy it's very interesting and cool

[anemic-kazutora]

No one mourns the Wicked

If you like Kisaki, I automatically like you, just so you know.

I wanted to make a point about how, to me, it is obvious that his thinking isn't actually healthy, that there is something we are forced to overlook because of the narrative that makes Kisaki's reasoning about Hina make sense in his own head. By this I mean that there is no way someone as smart as Kisaki would pursue the plan he concocted if not for the need to desperately fight against something, which, I argue, would be loneliness, and the feeling of worthlessness that comes when you realize that your efforts mean nothing if there is nobody to acknowledge them.

Kisaki liked Hina, she was his childhood crush, but also so much more than that, because she was the first kid to ever treat him nicely and not like he was some subhuman weirdo because of his aptitude in school. She was the only one who showed the willingness to accept and welcome an outcast like him, not in spite of his perceived weirdness, but because of it- and this is where I argue that Kisaki is most likely neurodivergent, whether one agrees or not. She's a lovely person, she is everything that is good (I love her very much).

It feels to me like Kisaki is a number of things: - a "gifted child"/"genius", the type that adults love and kids despise, the type that has no friends because of it, the type that decides their own worth based on their successes or failures because their talent is all they are and ever will be to anybody who meets them; - plagued by the need to fit in, be accepted and recognized without actually changing himself in ways that betray his core values/what he thinks makes Kisaki Tetta Kisaki Tetta (which is something that is, I think, shaky and hazy to himself also. He's his brain and his smarts, but what else...?); - convinced that he's inherently unlovable and worthless unless he has tangible proof of his own successes (which is why he confesses to Hina only after realizing his 10 year plan) while also thinking, constantly, somewhere in his brain, that he's above everyone, that he just needs to show them just what he can do, that he's so much more than any normal person could hope to be; - unable to see others' affection as anything but transactional (something he can earn like a medal, something he has to trade for); - unknowingly (to a degree) desperate for genuine human connection (which he finds in Hanma despite not realizing it, because he's 13-14, they are both too young and neither really realizes that death can happen to them, too, and that they probably never could make it clear that they genuinely did care for one another); - deeply lonely and envious of everyone who isn't and is naturally a people magnet (Takemichi, Mikey, for instance).

To me, he was simply a boy who wanted to prove that he could do something great just by himself and on his own terms, that he was enough as a person for others to look up to and acknowledge, that he was worthy of the same love Takemichi could effortlessly get, just by being his naively heroic self. But he got caught up in the idea that Kisaki Tetta was what everyone else told him he was: a weirdo one should stay away from. He made that his strength, he became exactly what they said he was, because his admiration for Takemichi turned sour when it became clear that his charisma meant there would be nothing left for him. He mentions that a gang leader needs to have the looks to be successful in the part. He has resigned himself to the spot of those who lack every quality he values (outside of his own smarts), but he never stopped hoping that he could stand where the others, the "good" ones, like Takemichi himself, stood. He wanted to be like him, and be liked like him. But he couldn't, because he wasn't Hanagaki Takemichi, he was only Kisaki Tetta.

The end of the manga proves that simply having a friend who understood him from the start would have allowed him to become the fulfilled person he was always meant to be, that he was never inherently evil. He was just suffering through what Takemichi describes as the most painful thing. He was alone.

He was alone and he died alone. At 14, on a February night, on the asphalt, alone, under the horrified gaze of someone who had just had the thought that he would have deserved to die, someone whom he looked up to, despite everything, who had just told him that now everyone knew what he was up to and that nobody would ever listen to him again. He died alone and the only friend he had was too far away, and came too late. He died alone and the only one who could truly miss Kisaki Tetta was Hanma himself, while Takemichi belatedly realized that it shouldn't have ended that way and that it still wasn't right, that Kisaki was just like him: weak and only powering through by sheer force of will. He died alone, and he was the only one who died thinking and saying that he didn't want to.

He never got to be graced with forgiveness like Kazutora and Izana. Nobody even tried to understand him, save for Hanma and Takemichi.

No one mourns the Wicked. Yes, goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked cry alone Nothing grows for the wicked They reap only what they've sown.

[langdhon]

These times are hard for many of us for a variety of reasons. And while I'm not at all a christmasy person, I think it can't hurt to spread a little gingerbread sweetness in shape of appreciation. They seem to be just words typed on a pixel background, but I mean them. As a thank you, let me get all mushy and give shoutouts to you people:

Under the cut because it got really fucking long.

||| First of all, my closest/longest roleplay partners:

@ravenskeeper: Andy, the light of my experience. The FUCL to my ATTACL, one of the most creative people on here and longest writing partner. I can't imagine my guy without Alice in his life anymore. We've created such a profound dynamic out of literally nothing but a random starter 1 1/2 years ago. And despite some jealous assbutt trying to kick you, you stayed, kept slaying and I hope you know how fucking strong that makes you! I also love for us how we rapid-fire our shit back and forth most of the time because we infect each other with the inspiration from our muses harmonizing so damn well. Sure, I adore everything you do, also on your multi and Dream, but your OG brainchild Alice always has a special place in my heart.

@eyeless-smiles: Why don't I know what to call you after such a long time of our sickos murdering and diddling their way through existence together? Wanna preserve a mysterious vibe, huh? Jk. Such laid back and easy-going writers like you seem to be a rarity nowadays, and you're super kind whenever we have our little chats. While I enjoyed every second of seeing your writing evolve, your muse grow, I appreciate most how you can fit Corinth into so many situations and still have him be him. It's easy to tell you have fun. That is contagious tbh. Interacting with you is always a joy and I hope we'll keep that going for the next 100 years!

@viiolencia: Lune, you funky moonthey! We've already written on my old muse loooong ago and I immediately fell in love with Sira. I'm so happy we have our hellish little shits interact too, and what a blast that just is I have no words!! Besties with benefits, a dynamic I'll always cherish. They're chaos, sitting in the same boat while also not. It's so special. Your writing as such? Chef's kiss. You're one of those partners whose replies to me I read multiple times because your prose flows so beautifully while never straying from depicting the ugly details. You paint literal pictures in my head with your words and I'm so living for it. I'd eat your writing if I could.

@hiveruled: Kai is a dick. But you, Bo the bro, ain't; you're super chill and I love seeing you drag Kai through the dirt, as I occasionally drag Michael too. You understand that there's a difference between exploring the mind of a bad guy and the person you really are; it's almost like psychologists being fascinated with the most unhinged minds, to comprehend how they work. Writing our two idiots provoke each other is so so much fun. You're also, I'll never forget, the first AHS roleplayer who welcomed me and Michael. I appreciate you always.

@malka-lisitsa: I remember when we became mutuals. We immediately were on the same wavelength when it came to how we both are most interested in diving into our characters' psyche. That this is what it's about for us. And I see you dig into Katherine's heart and soul every day, you never fail at filling in the gaps canon left to render her the one-dimensional villain. You showed me, us, that she's not the cutout bad bitch. What should be obvious, you made us see in detail. Michael and Katherine together? Priceless! Anyway, you're such a force on my dash that when someone says November, I don't think of the month first but of you.

@colorsdevoid: Yes, Genesis, you have many muses Zach would be proud of you portraying because you do it amazingly. Still, Thomas is the one I got to know best by now and with who Michael interacted most, so I'm sort of biased. Sue me, ha! I instantly loved him because he's somebody you can easily have compassion for, all the while not excusing the path he took. And I'm so thrilled to see him bloom when brought back among the living, in a world that'll treat him better than the one he was born into. A world still needing improvement, but better nonetheless. I look forward to seeing where all this takes him!

@multi-royalty: Maddie, the gal who juggles a bunch of super different characters every single day, and all of them are amazing on their own. I don't know how you do it, especially since you've got a fair amount of high-maintenance divas in the mix, so I imagine sometimes your head must go BOOM. I've only ever seen you as the sweet presence on my dash, which is always a bright spark in my daily experience here. I know you struggle, but I also see you fight this bitch trying to paint your thoughts all black. I'm proud of you and I hope you are proud of yourself for creating such a lot every day, too

@asteritm: We haven't written in a while, but you were one of my very first writing partners on this blog, this muse. They immediately kicked off with an equally chaotic vibe and it's been such a blast all along! Whenever they didn't try to 1-up each other in sass-battles, they could get super soft with one another; this duality is super interesting to play out. Also because Lilly is one among very few able to overpower my brat. It's something I dig so hard because it forces him to tone his shit down sometimes. The way you write is so alive too. Fresh, never monotonous, it really conveys Lilly's entire chaotic energy!

@zealctry: A, your Malcolm went through more than a handful headaches with my guy here, while with Hidan? I suppose our dudes either give each other the same headache or none, because they are both murderous chaotic fucks who don't beat around the bush. Writing with you was always a pure pleasure and still is! You put up with Mikey's bs even when I sat here hoping he'd just... shut up and think for a second. You have such a colorful mind and the way you write is a mirror of your creativity; it's so real, so vivid. Every reply from you is a treat, like a warm chocolate pudding during a winter evening.

||| More partners that I adore and send my love to:

@anthrcpophagi and the beautifully written Maren Yearly, a sweet yet dangerous character who absolutely deserves more recognition. @butscrewmefirst and the flawless take of Elizabeth, who's been around for over half a decade by now, can you even believe? @bunnyblooded and the Stefan I didn't know I needed to see until I did. @bratprinced, if you want the actual Lestat to throw his dramatic antics onto your dash? That's the go-to. @griefknown and a lovely Elena, who's just as troubled as she's the town's sweetheart. @hybrid-royalty-main who always provides fun times with all those funky little dudes. I hear their voices in their replies, no shit. @hecatespower the only Mallory I've seen around in a while and given so much more depth it's simply beautiful. @havvkinsqueen Victoria is one of the absolute sweetest persons on this whole site, an inspiration for us all, and her Chrissy is the only one for me. @monstriiss and their giant monster milf who can eat your man and probably will, literally btw. Not just an original but original original concept. @munsontm with their funky little Eddie, who gives no shit about gender norms while being metal af. @pumpkinstabs, the person who made me get actually interested in Myers, who gives him such intriguing nuances. Love it. @ruinedmyself and the lovely babygirl Sammy who needs snuggles but receives struggles; pls go and hug him. @spynorth and the Spooks spy Michael likes to slam into walls. Lucas shakes his head at his own muse a lot and that's what I'm here for. @stanfordprepped and the fanged cutie Sam that you can corrupt today! For only $0,00 and a cup of demon blood. @sarcasticsnackpack with that guy with an aversion to his birthname. Super fun to write and chat with. @snowreignd who's brave and comes around with the worst fictional president to ever president. I love that rounded take! @thcmcnstcr and a super cute but equally as dangerous half-angel, also found on @scldiersmercy and @blccdwar. All intertwined. @untilthcyrot with a variety of great muses, most of all the little big sister to my idiot son here. Super fun to talk to as well.

||| Last but not least: those I yet have to get into writing with more:

@fallenregent you're amazing and so is your Davina! @fangsforhire you give off fun-vibes, which I love to see! @pohlepen you give us a messy woman who kicks ass and you just.. rock! @pumpcursed you unapologetically enjoy yourself, as we all should! @traumapyre you're a sweet bean and deserve only good things. @zmogedra you sure have that cannibal down to a T. And pls get well soon!

I didn't @ multiple blogs of the same writer, just know I love every blog I follow! Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't follow, duh ♥

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

He's Not My Boyfriend | Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: Popular

Words: 2108

Fandom: Stranger Things

A/N: Hints at Chrissy’s eating disorder. Sort of redemption for Jason, I guess. He irritated me whenever he was on screen and all I’m saying is that someone should have smacked some sense into him a long time ago. Jason is low-key scared of Reader here and if he don't watch out, reader will steal Chrissy from him lol. Reader is 18 yo here.

Summary: Despite hanging out with the likes of Chrissy Cunningham, your eyes were always drawn to Eddie Munson from across the room.

-

You always thought that social hierarchies in school were arbitrary for the longest time. You’ve seen older kids who were so full of themselves, that they were so important, yet once they were released into the real world, everything fell flat. No one cares that you were high school royalty or the captain of a varsity team or the cheerleading squad. Those who are so used to having things handed to them won’t survive. 

For a while, you were considered one of the nerds, the weird outcast that sat in the back and spoke only when spoken to. It was a shock to people when they saw you speaking to Chrissy Cunningham so casually. In fact, she walked up to you, smiling as she told you about cheerleading practice and the hype behind the upcoming game. People would stop and stare, only moving when you or Chrissy eyed them. Because of this, you were in the middle. Not quite a freak, not quite popular.

You were sharing your lunch with Chrissy, knowing that she wouldn’t eat much food from her plate, but she felt better when it was you offering it. Jason was apprehensive about your friendship with her at first, but after him and Chrissy had an extremely passive aggressive argument at a diner that ended with her storming out, you had to drag Jason to the side and make him realize that she was struggling with something and he needed to be open-minded and understanding. 

They talked and made up with Jason supporting her and encouraging her to eat. You even heard from Chrissy that he stood up to her mom when they were eating dinner at her place. If you hadn’t threatened to smack some sense into him, he didn’t know what would have happened.

Your eyes drifted over to the designated Hellfire Club table like it always did every lunch, seeing the leader of the pack move around animatedly. Chrissy nudged your shoulder and gave you a knowing look, raising an eyebrow as she took a big bite from an apple. You shook your head, looking back just in time to see Eddie Munson climbing on the table.

“Your boyfriend’s at it again,” she whispered.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you protested, making a point to turn away to down your Coke and immediately regretting it. You felt it bubbling in your chest and you quickly tried to dampen the noise with a hand over your mouth as you burped.

Chrissy let out a fit of laughter, pushing your shoulder as she threw her head back. Jason looked over and smiled at her. Before, she would be more reserved, more prim and proper, at school. Holding herself back from fully expressing herself and shying behind her hand and a mask that had been crafted from years of scrutiny and judgment from her mother. She became stronger and showed more of her true self and it encouraged him to do the same. He didn’t know that he could fall in love all over again.

His attention was snapped away as Eddie started shouting to all the cliques at the school, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his already loud voice. Jason let out an exasperated sigh, his eyes landing on you as you looked up at Eddie with a fond smile.

“- And a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!” Eddie shouted, pointedly staring at Jason and the rest of the basketball team.

Jason jumped from his seat. “What did you say?”

Eddie stuck his tongue out and made devil horns with his fingers, making his table snicker. It certainly made you giggle seeing how it ruffled the basketball team’s feathers. They really needed to be put in their place. Eddie’s gaze dropped down to you, his smirk shifting into a smile. He winked before striding away, jumping down and scaring one of the teachers.

“Prick,” Jason muttered, sitting back down. “I don’t know how you can stand him.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Yeah, sure.”

-

Hawkins High had finally won a championship game, all thanks to Lucas Sinclair. The team lifted him up as they celebrated, the whole court roaring in cheers. You were clapping along, enjoying Sinclair’s underdog moment. It was all getting too much for you as the students in the stands were surging over to the basketball team to join in with the celebration. You snuck out, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air.

Without knowing it, you ended up next to the main campus building, leaning against the wall and looking out across at the gymnasium. People began to spill out, still high in their victory. Not long after, the double doors of the main building bursted open, the members of the Hellfire club walking out and basking in their own victory. Eddie was the last one, closing up the door behind the group. He finally spotted you, shooting you a curious look.

“Hawkins won, if you care,” you said.

“I don’t,” he said shortly.

“Well, Sinclair won it for us. Buzzer beater,” you continued, “He was really beat up about missing the campaign, but this game meant a lot to him, too.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

You shrugged. “He loves this game. Dungeons and Dragons, right? It was funny to watch the confusion on everyone’s faces when he tried to explain how the game worked. Granted, most of them came from religious families, so he might as well have been explaining a satanic ritual to them. I hope you guys don’t exclude him because of this.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “You were the one giggling at lunch. What do you think? You think DnD is a satanic cult, too?”

You huffed out a laugh, looking up to see Lucas eyeing his friends with sadness and longing. They were pointedly ignoring him, talking ecstatically about the session they just had. You remembered the glint in his eyes, his excited hand gestures as he told the story of an old campaign, about their run-ins with a demogorgon and having a TPK after stumbling into a beholder’s lair. 

You always had a soft spot for him, knowing that he just wanted to fit in when he first joined the basketball team. Over time, his gaze usually locked onto you as he spoke about DnD, knowing that the others didn’t care or would criticize it. He even asked you once to join the Hellfire club, but you always held it off. Why can’t he play both basketball and DnD?

“I think it sounds fun,” you said, smiling at Eddie.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. The kids were calling out to him to hurry up and drive them home, but he simply waved him off. When he realized how serious you were, he grinned, stepping closer. When you didn’t budge, he took another step, relishing how flustered you look while refusing to move.

“We just finished a campaign, but if you wanna do a one-shot…?” He let the question hang in the air, tilting his head.

“Sounds cool,” you said, swallowing. “Can I bring Chrissy?”

He blinked, stepping back. You immediately missed his body heat and refrained from pouting. “Chrissy Cunningham? Queen of Hawkins High?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, and if I play my cards right, I can also get Jason, too. He and some of his teammates owe me anyway. If you want, I can also get a cheerleader or two to come.”

“Bullshit.” He didn’t think that you were the type to stoop so low and prank him like this. He always saw you as an anomaly, a neutral entity. Were you really someone that bought into that social conformity bullcrap?

“Well, that sounded like a tall order, but I still think I can get Chrissy to come with me,” you insisted, regretting not taking Lucas up on his offer the first time to play with them.

“Lucas?” You heard Jason call out.

You turned away from Eddie and saw Lucas making his way towards his friends. The tall boy with the shaggy black hair spotted him and turned his back towards him. Even from this distance, you could see Lucas’s face fall, but he pressed on. Jason and two other teammates followed after him, Chrissy trailing behind in case something happened.

Eddie stiffened as the jocks approached, striding over to the group and stood in front of them protectively. “What do you guys want?” he demanded.

“None of your business, freak,” one of the jocks hissed.

You glared at him, the tension in your posture not lost on Jason. He wacked his teammate and gestured towards Eddie. “Come on, man. None of that,” he said.

Lucas ignored them, trying to break through his friends’ walls. “Guys, we can go and watch a movie or something,” he offered. “Erica, you can come with us, too. I won’t tell mom and dad that it’s a horror movie.”

“You sure you don’t want to get drunk and celebrate with your new friends?” Dustin asked bitterly.

Lucas looked over to you for help. You sighed, stepping up. “Chrissy, you wanna watch a movie with us?”

Her face lit up. You had gotten her into binge watching movies, particularly horror ones that many were surprised about. She never liked those rowdy parties despite Jason’s numerous attempts to make her feel comfortable. It wouldn’t last long, though. Eventually, he’d break away from her to drink with his friends. She insisted that he was getting better and drinking less, but now he respected her decision to not go. She was thankful for that, but at times she wished she just had some quality time with him.

“Sure,” Chrissy said, wrapping an arm around yours. She looked up at Jason with innocent eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t get too carried away tonight, okay?”

“I… wait, Chrissy. It’s a horror movie, though.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I know. I love horror.”

He gaped, trying to find a way to respond to that. “Sinclair, you sure you don’t wanna celebrate with us? You’re our star, after all. It’s your choice,” he said, adding the last part quickly.

Lucas looked back at his friends who were pretending to ignore him. “I’m sure,” he said with finality. “Have fun.”

Jason nodded. “Come on, guys,” he said, then turned to Chrissy, “Uh, be safe. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Chrissy said softly, catching the kiss that he blew at her.

You stuck your tongue out in disgust before pulling away. Jason rolled his eyes, walking back with his friends to his car. You turned to Eddie who had been silent during most of the exchange.

“You coming?” you asked hopefully.

“Why? You paying?”

“They owe me,” Lucas said, turning to you, “You promised you’d take me to a Rated R horror movie.”

“Did I?” you said, feigning ignorance. 

“Dude.”

-

The group of you took over a whole row at the movie theater with you sitting between Eddie and Chrissy. You propped a medium sized popcorn bag between you and Chrissy, saying nothing as she grabbed a handful and popped it in her mouth one at a time. You felt eyes on you and turned to see Eddie looking.

“What?” you whispered.

“You were serious about playing DnD?” he asked.

You nodded. “Why not?”

“Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool,” he muttered, his leg bouncing in his seat. “Um, we could -”

“Shh,” Dustin hissed.

Eddie rolled his eyes, turning his eyes back to the screen. “We’ll sort it out later.”

You saw movement from the corner of your eye, a flash of green and yellow as Jason quietly made his way to the seat next to Chrissy. You nudged the popcorn bag to her, silently telling her she could share it with him. She grinned, moving it over to the armrest between them. Eddie took his popcorn bag from his lap and placed it on the armrest between the two of you, giving you a small smile.

A jumpscare popped up on screen, a rain of popcorn falling from rows of seats. There was a startled cry covered by a series of coughing. You looked over and saw Jason hitting his chest as he tried to dislodge a popcorn from his throat. Violent violins started to play, drawing your attention away. You clutched onto Eddie’s arm instinctively as the tension in the movie grew. He grinned, moving his arm until your hands were clasped together. He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckle with a wink before turning his attention back to the screen.

Yeah, he wasn’t your boyfriend… yet.

[saintsenara]

sirius black/severus snape explicit read from the beginning here masterpost | chapter summary | moodboard

chapter one: enif

in this chapter, despite everything in his body telling him that he should, sirius black does not go to the department of mysteries.

this decision will, unsurprisingly, have consequences.

more notes under the cut

i was asked by @ashesandhackles about all the blood in this chapter, so that seems like a very good place to start.

blood is - on the one hand - a metaphor for the social context sirius has always existed in. the wizarding world is obsessed with class, heredity, and lineage; sirius spent his youth trying to escape those forces but now finds himself shoved back into his childhood home, made to confront the fact that half of his blood relatives are on the opposing side and compelled to endure his mother’s portrait constantly reminding him that she considers his decision to turn his back on her and his father’s blood-supremacy to be an aberration against nature.

but the blood also serves a more literal role in this story - it shows that sirius’ body is a wreck.

both the canon text and many fan-fiction portrayals of sirius deal sensitively with his mental state during order of the phoenix - with his obvious depression, with his alcohol abuse, with the trauma he carries from azkaban, and so on - but it seems, in my experience, that far less space has been given to thinking about the ruinous physical trauma he must live with after twelve years in prison. all too often, sirius is written as someone who's struggling profoundly mentally, but is still healthy [and really, really hot] while he does it.

partially, i think this can be explained by the fact that the series generally doesn’t care very much about physical illness or disability - all injuries are easily healed; all damage or disability is rendered obsolete by magic. it prefers to focus on the impact of injury or illness on cognitive function - which it understands to connect to magical ability - and it sets up azkaban as something which primarily impacts the cognitive state of its inmates, rendering them unable to exist as functioning witches and wizards because their thoughts are so disturbed, as sirius himself tells us in goblet of fire:

‘He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though… they all went quiet in the end… except when they shrieked in their sleep.’

but the prison is also located in the middle of a freezing ocean and canonically poorly maintained. the prisoners are clearly starved - both sirius and bellatrix are described as “gaunt” after their escape - and can be presumed to be sleep-deprived, denied access to healthcare, and plausibly subject to violence and mistreatment at the hands of the prison’s staff [both dementor and human]. these experiences have an undeniable impact on the mental state, but they also have a physical one - and the fact that sirius can be meaningfully described as chronically ill following his captivity [and how much he loathes being thought of as an invalid and why] is one of the key themes of this story.

although what, exactly, is wrong with his leg remains to be seen…

thinking about sirius’ body leads into another theme which will be important throughout the war of the roses: the twin states of beauty and disgust. sirius’ internal voice in this chapter focuses a lot on the aspects of embodiment which many people consider distasteful - shit, piss, blood, sweat - and which he connects mentally with the loss of the great physical beauty which made life so easy for him in his youth [something which even harry, who’s otherwise ready to go with a powerpoint presentation on how fit sirius is at any given moment, concedes during the series].

this symbiotic loss is present in other aspects of his life - grimmauld place is now filthy, bloody, and decaying, where it was once opulent - but one thing which i really wanted to draw out when writing this chapter was the fact that sirius becoming less physically beautiful transforms his relationship with snape. i see a lot in fan-fiction portrayals of snape the idea that he isn’t actually anywhere near as ugly as harry canonically claims - and i think that’s completely plausible; harry’s a bitchy teen boy after all - but i wanted to play with reversing this trope: snape’s just as ugly as harry thinks he is, but sirius is ugly too...

and so to our main lads, our central pairing - sirius and snape. this opening chapter was a great chance for me to indulge one of my favourite things about snape and sirius’ canon characterisation: that they’re absolutely fucking obsessed with each other. their mutual childish sniping throughout order of the phoenix [snape going out of his way to mock sirius about cleaning the house! literally everything which happens in that occlumency scene!] gives me energy, and clearly reflects the continuation of a dynamic they’ve had since childhood [sirius seems to do an awful lot of noticing snape in the flashbacks we see of them as teens].

i know that many fans have strong feelings - in either direction - when it comes to how snape’s treatment at the marauders’ hands should be understood. but something i think is worth noting is that snape canonically appears to be considerably less distressed by the memory of his teenage relationship with sirius than he does with the memory of either lupin or james. indeed, while he seems to be genuinely afraid of lupin - and to do as much as he can to avoid being alone with him - snape goes out of his way to antagonise sirius, in ways which suggest that he derives some sort of satisfaction out of getting his attention, even if that attention is negative.

no wonder, then, that the two of them fighting is so sexually charged…

i also wanted to set out another theme which will play a big part in how sirius and snape’s relationship will be written in this story: that the two of them are willing to speak the truth about each other.

when i re-read order of the phoenix in advance of writing this story, i was really struck by sirius complaining to harry that snape needles him about being under house arrest:

‘Oh yeah,’ said Sirius sarcastically. ‘Listening to Snape’s reports, having to take all his snide hints that he’s out there risking his life while I’m sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time… asking me how the cleaning’s going -’

which harry later uses as a way to blame snape for sirius’ death when shouting at dumbledore.

but the thing that stands out to me is that snape… is right. sirius is useless to the reformed order [in fact, his membership of the group does nothing but make kingsley’s high-value position as a ministry-based spy all the more dangerous - although i love him misleading the investigation into sirius’ whereabouts in transparently ridiculous ways], but snape - and fred weasley - are the only people who are willing to confront that reality [dumbledore’s refusal to acknowledge sirius’ feelings of redundancy is something we will get into]. while neither of them are capable of communicating this effectively [yet!], i do think it’s important that snape’s refusal to pretend that sirius is doing something significant for the order is something sirius respects. deep down at least.

and i also think it’s important that snape is one of the only people - apart from harry and, it seems, voldemort - who understands that sirius’ sense of uselessness has the potential to boil over into pure recklessness [voldemort must select sirius as the star of his false vision not only because he knows that harry would risk everything to get him to safety, but because he also knows that harry would see sirius tied up in the department of mysteries and think ‘yep. he’s left the house and been captured. that’s plausible.’]. i wanted snape to be genuinely surprised to arrive in grimmauld place and discover that sirius hasn’t gone to the ministry, and for this to be the trigger for him snapping when sirius does try to run into battle with the rest of the order and telling him to stay put for harry’s own good.

this is the part of this author’s note where i reveal that this is not going to be a story which accepts uncritically that sirius is a good godfather to harry. i completely understand why the trope of sirius being the model of a father-figure is compelling to fans - and i have no interest at all in the nIcE oNe JaMeS manchild characterisation of sirius in the films [although i do of course think that sirius fails to appreciate that harry is rather less bullish about what he’s facing than james] - but i think that writing sirius as someone who’s fanatically devoted to harry’s welfare, always makes the most parenting-expert-approved decision in any situation, and is demonstrably the adult in their interactions is… kind of uninteresting.

after all, even though he suggests that maybe they should, sirius doesn’t actually tell harry about the prophecy once his fellow order members overrule him. sirius clearly accepts dumbledore’s explanation for why harry needs to stay at the dursleys’, and recognises that harry miserable experience there - particularly the summer after voldemort’s return, when he’s subjected to an information blackout by the order - is [if you’ll pardon the expression] for the greater good. sirius is remarkably dismissive of harry’s fear that he’s being possessed by voldemort after he witnesses nagini attack arthur weasley. and sirius clearly regards harry’s attempts to protect him as patronising, rather than recognising that his godson would prefer him to remain alive rather than get up to hijinks.

in fact, it’s very striking in canon that sirius’ clear self-destructive streak is a major barrier to his relationship with harry, especially in order of the phoenix. this is the cause of the belief he expresses in this chapter that his purpose as an order member is to die for harry - and, indeed, that this is something explicitly requested of him by james. one of the lines which i think about all the time - a line which will become a key theme in this story - is sirius to wormtail in prisoner of azkaban:

‘Then you should have died! ... Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!’

because, on the one hand, sirius is completely right. but, on the other, there is a rigidity to him - a belief that dying nobly for a cause is the only reasonable course of action. snape says the quiet part out loud in this chapter - that sirius cannot simultaneously believe that his only concern is protecting harry and refuse to recognise that protecting harry means getting this reckless streak under control; and that sirius has seen before that acting first and asking questions later results in a potter he loves dying.

although, this being said, snape also just wanted to have a fight, partially because it’s hot to punch your rival in the face, but also because his defaulting to physical violence is another manifestation of the fundamental honesty which defines his character. in canon, magical violence is notable for how hands-off it largely is - it requires emotional heft, but no apparent physical power; the vast majority of curses we meet appear to leave no physical traces - and for how it therefore allows the perpetrator to distance themselves from the reality of their violence. there are some exceptions - above all sectumsempra, which clearly requires the perpetrator to feel profound rage [for enemies] but which actually registers that rage on the body.

the same effect can be achieved by snape decking sirius.

alongside the humans of this story, in this chapter we meet a bricks-and-mortar character who will play a big role as the war of the roses continues: number twelve grimmauld place. canonically, this is ten different gothic literature tropes in a trenchcoat, but one which has a huge fanon presence is the idea that the house is literally sentient. i don’t love this - mostly because it’s usually accompanied by lots of pro-aristocracy nonsense - but i do like the house being perceived as sentient by sirius' disturbed mind.

i also like the canonical portrayal of grimmauld place as a metaphor for azkaban - untouched by the happiness of the muggles in the outside world, freezing despite the hot weather; a place in which - as harry says - sirius is literally locked up against his will.

but i also like the fact that, canonically, grimmauld place is a domestic space as well. the order live and eat and hang out together in a quasi-familial way, and the contrast between sirius’ experience of this rag-tag found family and his experience of eating with his actual family will come up again…

this chapter also hints at some of the relationships which will be explored in more detail as this story continues. some of these are from sirius’ past - his relationship with his parents, with regulus, with bellatrix, with kreacher, with the malfoys and lestranges - and some are from his present - his relationship with lupin; his relationship with wormtail, who has escaped him; his relationship with moody, with kingsley, with tonks, with the weasleys, with ron and hermione, and so on.

but one relationship i want to mention now is sirius and buckbeak - i just love these two comrades-in-arms! i love in canon that buckbeak is the first creature harry feels able to uncomplicatedly confess to missing sirius to! i love that sirius’ care for buckbeak contributes to his death in canon, and to his survival here! i love how he spends so much time with buckbeak in order of the phoenix, as his depression worsens, and clearly finds comfort with him; and i like the idea that buckbeak would shed his wildness and dangerousness when around sirius in recognition of sirius’ love for him.

my heart!

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and To Heal (Part 7)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin’s hands shake as he attempts to unlock his front door. He drops his keys twice. His vision tilts and whirls like he's just come off one of those crazy carnival rides that spins you in circles until you hurl. It takes him three tries to fit the key in the lock, finally fumbling it open and getting himself inside. 

Everything closes in on him at once. The walls shove in, the hallway enclosing him as he slides down the door, curling up on the floor with his legs to his chest. Martin rests his forehead on his knees as he tries to keep his head, reminding himself that his panic isn’t warranted, it doesn’t control him, he controls it. 

The problem is, your question has found Martin on the shores of grief. For years he has wasted away on his little island of emotions, packing them away and ignoring them in order to put his daughter and his team first. Now you’ve shown up, somehow navigating your way through vicious seas in your tiny lifeboat to crash along the black sands of his broken heart. How you’ve found the real Martin beneath the shell he presents to the outside world, he has no idea. In truth it doesn’t matter. You have impacted him in ways that he hadn’t thought possible after Maria died. 

When Martin sees you in the gymnasium at Attie’s school, his entire mood lifts. He could send Atla’s nanny or even one of the Arsenal staff to pick her up each day, but he doesn’t. Because after waking up his daughter, seeing you is the highlight of Martin’s day. He can’t pinpoint when exactly it started, but he looks forward to seeing you. And tonight, he should’ve said yes when you asked him on a date. Hell, he almost did agree, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

Despite the years that have passed, Martin is still clinging to his wife. He loved her, and it still hurts to think that he might love someone else. He does not want to spoil the memory of her by dating someone new. 

He is at a crossroads, an impasse- either choice he makes, he must gather up the sharp shards of his heart and let them sting his hands so he can mold it back into something worthy of love.

If he chooses Maria, he's choosing a life of solitude. He is denying Atla the opportunity to grow up with a mother figure to love her. If Martin chooses you, he's moving on, accepting that the previous chapter of his life has ended. 

Martin likes you as a person. Something about you makes him feel a little less lonely, a little less empty. He feels more like the old Martin, fun and adventurous and carefree, ready and willing to take on the world. You match that energy- he misses that about himself and he sees it reflected in you.

It's an impossible choice, but one he must make nonetheless. 

“You’ve bottled it,” Martin mumbles to himself. Martin rests his forehead on his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to calm himself down. “You like her and you’ve gone and bottled it.”

Martin is sure you’ll never speak to him again. He’ll be lucky if you don’t opt out of the early arrival program just to avoid him entirely. Why couldn’t he have just said yes?

When Martin finds the strength to lift his head, the photo of his family hanging across the entryway haunts him. All three figures are smiling ear to ear, even the little baby in Maria’s arms. Martin’s heart twangs like it always does when he looks at that photo. It had been his favorite before everything happened. 

Autopilot has him on his feet before he realizes what he’s doing. He detaches himself from his body as he carefully grasps the sides of the gilded frame, lifting the wire from the nail secured in the wall. Martin might be floating a few inches above the floor as he walks the portrait upstairs to his spare room. Without hesitation, Martin sets the frame on the floor and leans it against one of the cardboard boxes he hasn’t touched in ages. 

“I love you, Maria. Always will.” Tears gather on Martin's eyelashes, which he wipes away with his sleeve. “This doesn’t change that, I swear. But I know… That you would want me to be happy. You wouldn’t want me to sit here and feel sorry for myself my entire life. You always said you wanted me to find my adventure, something that makes my heart sing… And I think I may have found it.”

Martin is glad Kieran agreed to keep Atla overnight, because for the next few hours he sets about going through those boxes he has been avoiding. Most are filled with Maria’s clothes, her little trinkets, or her collection of coffee mugs that Martin bought for her any time he played a match somewhere new. He makes three piles, one to donate, one to keep, and the smallest of which is things he wants to show Atla before he decides. 

The thing that gives Martin pause are Maria's drawings. Martin has always said that Atla inherited her creativity from her mother, and seeing her artwork now only solidifies that assumption. Maria was as talented with a paintbrush as she was with a pencil. It didn’t matter the medium, she could make something beautiful with the barest of tools. 

As he leafs through her canvases and papers, Martin finds himself smiling. He considers that an improvement over his usual tearful, self pitying ventures into this room where he cannot so much as open a box. There’s one drawing in particular that sticks out to him, one Maria sent him while he was in Madrid. It’s small, maybe three inches by five, no bigger than a postcard. How she crammed so much detail into such a simple piece, Martin isn’t sure. She captured the view from the window in his childhood home perfectly, giving him a bit of Norway to escape to when he got homesick.

That drawing is the one he decides to frame. He isn't sure where it will live, but that will be the one tribute he allows himself. Because while Maria is his past and will always be a part of him, he is positive that it is time for him to move on and look ahead to the future. 

**********

As it turns out, Martin's future is apparently quite grim. For whatever reason, Arteta has decided that for the last month and a half of their season, for four days a week, the squad should be at the grounds by 8 for meetings and small group work, and should stay until 3 for regular training. That sort of schedule means that aside from Wednesdays, he can't drop Atla off or pick her up from school. That leaves Martin exactly one chance to see you before he's forced to wait another week, which sounds like a sort of torture he isn't keen to endure.

On Wednesday morning, you're not behind your rolling desk in the gymnasium like usual. Martin does his best to not let that disappoint him; your schedule varies as much as his does. It could be nothing. Or it could mean that you've effectively cut him out of your life. 

"Oh, Miss. Sunshine isn't here," Atla remarks, her lower lip pouted adorably. "Where is she pa?" The soft eyes and open vulnerability on his daughter's face when she looks up at Martin makes his heart ache. If his indecision hurts Atla, he will never forgive himself.

The voice of his Arsenal physical therapist rings in his head when Martin kneels, the old man's shrill reminder of 'protect your knees, you only get one prime set' sticking in his brain. But at this moment he is a father first and a footballer second, so Martin pushes the warning from his consciousness and unzips Atla's sweater. 

"Well søta, maybe she's busy today. I'm sure she will be here tomorrow, or after school. You never know," he says with a smile.

"Yes but I like seeing her in the mornings. It's the most fun!"

Martin sighs through his nose, trying to keep a leash on his anxiety. "If you see her in the hallways, you could tell her you miss her."

Tell her I miss her too, Martin adds silently. He has so much to say to you, but there's not much he can do if you're avoiding him. 

"I wanted to tell her about your goal on Sunday," Atla says, "she loves hearing about you when you do good."

This, at least, gives Martin a spark of hope. "She does? I didn't know that."

With an attitude that is all her mother, Atla plants her little closed fist on her hip and gives Martin that five-going-on-fifteen look that has laughter bubbling in his throat. "Well duh pa, that's cause I'm not supposed to tell you that. But I'm miffed that she isn't here! So there- I told you!"

Biting his lip is the only thing that keeps him from laughing as he says, "søta, you can't go around telling secrets because you're upset with someone. You won't have any friends if they can't trust you."

"That's some good advice."

Martin's frozen fingers allow Atla to wiggle out of his grip, her excited cry confirming what Martin already knows, "Miss. Sunshine! I missed you!"

When Martin dares lift his eyes, you're embracing Atla in a tight hug. His daughter's arms are thrown around your neck, her toes barely touching the ground as you support her weight. And when your eyes meet his, Martin swears his heart stops.

As a young boy, Martin's mum imparted many wisdoms onto her son. Some were forgotten as quickly as they were spoken, but others Martin has remembered all these years later. One that he lives by religiously is what comes to mind now. When he was fourteen, his 'girlfriend' had kissed another boy and broken Martin's heart. His mum knew somehow, and soothed him as soon as he walked in the door. 

"Mouths lie," she told him, "but eyes are not so easily deceiving. A person's eyes are what hold their true emotions and intentions. If you can read their eyes, that is where you'll find the truth."

Now, your eyes hold nothing but forgiveness. Your sparkling eyes tell Martin that you don't hold his actions against him, even if he did ruin your birthday party. Furthermore, the white leather bag hanging off your shoulder cements the fact that you're not angry with him, at least not enough to cut him out of your life. 

"Atla," you murmur, eyes never once leaving Martin's, "go set your bookbag where it goes. I printed some fresh animal colouring pages, why don't you go work on those?"

Once Atla is gone, you both stand in unison. Martin feels like he's locked in some sort of war. Which one of you will break first? Who will bridge the chasm between you?

"Hi, Mar."

You. Of course you do, because you're probably aware of the way Martin's tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth and take pity on him. He clears his throat to unstick it and finds his voice to mumble a soft, deep, "Hello, solskinn."

"You left kinda suddenly on Friday," you note, hands folded in front of you as you tip your head. There isn't an ounce of negativity in your body language, a fact that Martin appreciates deeply. "Everything alright?"

"It is now," Martin answers, flashing you his trademark charming smile. When he left the bar, his head was a mess. Now, his heart has the wheel and it knows exactly where to drive him. 

Martin takes a deep breath and steadies himself much the same way he would if he were preparing to take a penalty kick. Detach from the situation, his surroundings, the people gathered- focus only on himself and his goal. 

Net the ball. Get a point on the scoreboard. Apologize for Friday and move forward. 

"I shouldn't have left the way I did, without even explaining myself. The thought of going out on dates is… new to me, and I just wasn't prepared for that sort of question."

Your face softens and you take a step forward to lay your hand on Martin's arm. You don't say anything because you don't have to; your touch quiets the noise in his head. The silent support you offer in the form of your hand on his skin is all he needs to voice the words he's tumbled in his head until they've become polished and shiny. 

"My answer is yes," Martin states firmly. "I'd love to go out sometime. As more than just friends, maybe. Depending on how it goes, and how much you hate me afterwards." Martin grins to ease the tension, hoping to clear some of the sawdust now coating his throat. 

Your soft, understanding smile melts the last of Martin's uncertainty. He expected you to reject him immediately. The lack of upset in your gaze tells Martin that he's made the correct choice. He's positive that while he still has lots to learn, you might not mind helping him along the way. 

"Okay Mar, you're sure?" When Martin nods, you continue, "that's great- thank you for trusting me. I promise we can do something easy, yeah? Leave the planning to me, I know you're busy. Here, I'll give you my number okay? You can control this whole thing."

We can go at your pace, is what your smile says as you find a piece of paper in your gifted handbag and scribble your phone number on it. Martin takes the slip and tucks it carefully in his pocket, half numb but also buzzing. 

"Pa! Look! There's tigers!" 

Martin’s head turns to his daughter, who until now has been perfectly content with entertaining herself. He doesn't mind the interruption though; a glance at the clock tells him he has a few minutes to spare, and a glance at you tells him you don't mind him leaving the conversation there. 

The red and blue plastic picnic table Atla sits at is toddler sized, not that his daughter knows that. She pats the bench next to her with an open hand, "sit, pa! Draw with me. I'm making blue ducks, you can do the tigers cause they're your favorite."

Martin gets one leg under the table top, his knee bumping the underside even with his leg fully extended. The position he has to contort himself into to fit at the table is one that he won't last long in. His back will be tight and he'll need a massage for sure. The beaming, proud smile on Atla's face is worth all the pain and extra effort. 

"Pass me the orange pencil?"

"Pa, you're supposed to make them fun colors. Where's your imagination?"

Martin laughs, "fine, then give me the pink."

"Rosa," Atla declares as she sets the dusty rose colored pencil in Martin's outstretched hand. "Good pick."

Martin is dimly aware of you glancing his way as he talks quietly with Atla. Mostly, she criticizes his color choice and Martin tries to defend himself, though Atla's opinion always wins. Martin blames it on the excitement bubbling in his gut and not the fact that he is hopeless at saying no to Atla. 

Once his time is up, Martin kisses the top of Atla's head. "Papa has to go now Attie. Will you tell Miss. Sunshine all about my goal if she comes and joins you?"

"Mm-hmm! I will! Miss. Sunshine is much better at coloring than you pa, she's a better color picker. You're too boring!"

Martin silently agrees with his daughter; he is sure you are better than him at plenty of things. "Well then, I'll send her to take my place. Have a good day søta, pay attention and learn lots."

Atla drops her pencil and throws her arms around Martin's middle to squeeze him with all her strength. "Jeg elsker deg pa. You almost forgot to say it!"

"Jeg elsker deg, Atla Ødegaard. I'd never forget to tell you I love you." Martin returns her hug with equal force, tightening his arms until her giggles turn high pitched and she tries wriggling away. Only then does he let go and press a kiss to the top of the French braid in her hair, a style she insisted on having now and again. 

Once Atla's attention has returned to her masterpiece, Martin gets up, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and embarks on a slow walk in your direction. Have your eyes always shone like that? Or is he only noticing it now because he's finally seeing you?

"Hello again Mar," you say, your smile like a refreshing glass of lemonade on a summer day. After the days long drought he's endured, it's the sweetest gesture you can offer him. "Atla likes the new pages, I take it."

"Oh yeah she loves them. She wanted you to go join her actually, she said you're better at it than I am."

You tap a pencil to your lips, tipping your head to study him. Martin is used to being inspected but this feels different- he's not being analyzed as a player, but as a man. 

"Let me guess… you didn't pick the right colors?"

"Actually I think the problem was that I did pick the right colors."

"Ah, you're learning." 

A comfortable silence falls after Martin hums his agreement. He shifts on his feet, knowing he needs to leave but also remaining rooted to his spot. He can't leave without saying something clever, or at least something that will stick in your head as much as your smile will stick in his own.

"I'll see you next week?" Oh yeah, real sticky Martin. Perfect line. 

"Next week it is. Atla said you've been busier lately, but I'll take whatever I can."

[dispatchwithlove]

I dragged this fic out of the trash bin and now I’m wondering what I should do with it, so I thought I’d share the intro. It’s called Invisible String and I wrote it three years ago. I want to shine it up till it’s real pretty and post it again.

She waits for him. At a beat-up table in a dim room, wearing a black hood, low, hugging her brow because it covers the scars cracking across her forehead and casts a shadow over the unsettling orange glow in her eyes. It doesn’t do much for the smoldering scars on her cheeks, though, bright crevasses telling anyone who lays eyes on her: I’m not normal. Or okay.

The hood is a desperate attempt to hide that from at least a few people. But there isn’t much she can do about her voice — weak and smokier than seems normal. Stuck on a hollowed-rock space station, the only way she knows that the day is more than half over is her dry throat and fried vocal muscles.

Shepard’s not sure what’s normal. Cerberus brought her back to life, but she woke up too early. The scars littering her entire body didn’t have time to heal, vocal cords were unused, yet inexplicably strained. And she has no memory of who she was. They told her everything would go back to normal eventually. Her scars would heal, her vocal cords would heal. Her brand new body would feel less like a glued-together shell and more like home. Her memory would return, either gradually, or something would kick it into action.

While they’re waiting patiently, Shepard wants to find that something that’ll kick her memory into action. Battle felt natural, but didn’t make her remember who she is. A chance encounter with a lost friend named Tali didn’t bring it back. The items sitting in her cabin, taken from her Citadel apartment after she died, are foreign and unappreciated.

Nothing is normal. Nothing is real. To make matters worse, despite feeling suspended two years behind everyone else and strung out, she’s recruiting a vigilante on the bad side of Omega’s gangs. All of them. Quite the accomplishment.

Someone from his crew escorted her to the room she now sits in, empty of anything but a table and two chairs. At least the lack of light helps to obscure the marks across her face that reveal she was recently nothing more than meat and tubes, which is fantastic, because nothing says ‘come sail around space with me’ like a fucked-up face.

Archangel takes his time, leaving her not only alone, but feeling alone, which leaves her with plenty of time to question not only who she is, but what she’s doing here. Maybe that’s his intent.

The steady, soft footsteps that echo up the hall stand in stark contrast to the tall, broad shouldered turian that enters the room. Vibrant blue markings strike his cheeks and mandibles. His face is out of place on Omega, the look of a privileged kid that would fit in better at museum galas than corpse-littered alleys.

He seeks the chair opposite hers taking long, confident strides. Unlike his pretty-boy face, the menace in his body language certainly fits in with Omega. He’s a self-appointed savior who helps the weak by inflicting calculated pain on those who exploit Omega’s abused and forgotten. He does good; the chatter she overheard in the markets proved that the locals think his actions are brave, and he’s the closest thing to philanthropy this shitpit station can hope for.

But his tactics show he takes a little too much pleasure in the pain he causes. The locals revered him, but with shuddering admiration and sickened fear they advised each other not to cross him. Can she trust a man like that?

He takes the chair, turns it with a twist of his wrist, and straddles it, folding his forearms along the back railing. Cool, blue eyes travel across her face, the lengths of her body, assessing the weapons she has strapped to her back. Something about the way he looks at her makes her think she’s received his approval, and something about him makes her want that approval. She doesn’t remember much about herself, but she knows approval has never been anything she sought — from anyone — before this moment.