#but i cannot be scared of a man who canonically makes that face

[gardenofshadcws]

Bikke, both times you meet him: BEWARE Astos, the darkest, foulest, cruelest monster you'll ever meet in any world. He's PROBABLY CHAOS and if he's not he's still REALLY SCARY and probably GOING TO KILL YOU so BE ON YOUR GUARD.

Astos:

[crazy-only]

nsfw alphabet oscar piastri edition !

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

sweet baby is probably making sure you came, getting in between your legs and licking you clean like the tease he is before cleaning you up properly with a towel and getting you your favorite drink. he jokes around a lot but does not play when it comes to caring for you.

b = body part (favorite body part on themselves, as well as their partner’s)

oscar is OBSESSED with your fucking tits. oh my god you cannot convince me otherwise. every time he sees your rack on display in a low-cut shirt (regardless of your size) he gets turned on. it’s gotten to the point where he has to take a “bathroom break” during family dinners because he just can’t believe you’re his.

once you guys got more comfortable during sex, he got you to ride his face, and oh my god oscar was so happy in that moment. after that, he made sure at least weekly you were nearly suffocating him with your sweet pussy, so, long story short, he likes his nose because you also like it! ≥︺‿︺≤

c = cum (anything to do with cum)

baby cums so much you get worried you might get knocked up sometimes (even though you’re on the pill). if you haven’t cum yet, his stringy ropes will definitely hit all the right spots, leaving you in a moaning mess.

sometimes he cums on your belly and licks it off you when you’re insecure that day, just to show you how much he worships your body.

oscar also loves making you taste your own cum after fingering you slowly for an hour. you just taste so good! he can’t help it. (>‿◠)

d = dirty secret (dirty secret of theirs!)

oscar secretly wants to fuck you while you’re tied up. he seems like the type to joke around and make sarcastic remarks during sex, but deep down he’s fucking sadistic. he wants to see how helpless you can get under his hands.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

yes. just yes.

haha just kidding. i actually don’t think he’s that experienced, just because of the fact he’s probably been focused on racing his whole life and never really had a chance to hook up with people. naturally, his body count is low.

that being said, though, he’s not scared at all to try new things with you. oscar has no shame when it comes to making you guys feel good—so don’t worry about experience!

f = favorite position (cowgirl, missionary, etc.)

oscar loves fucking you face to face, with your hands held above your head in his left hand and his other hand fondling your tits. he’s big on seeing your reactions, and making you face him while yours contorts with pleasure and pain.

g = goofy (are they serious or more humorous in the moment?)

oscar’s actually pretty scary when it comes to freaky time. you love to tease him just to be a brat, but when your man finally snaps, oscar can’t help it but show you who’s in control. he loves a good laugh, and sometimes when you guys are having soft sex, it’s not rare to hear giggling, but in all other occasions, your man is taming you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

this man could care less about the hair situation down there. he shaves and whatnot so it’s never uncomfortable for him while racing, but he knows you like it when there’s a happy trail for you to get entranced in. he also loves forcing you down his cock so your nose is surrounded by his pubes. it makes him so much harder.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

oh my god this man literally asked you to be his girlfriend with a whole garden of candles and roses. he plays it off like these romantic moments are just to get you flustered, but he truly does enjoy making a good cute memory with you and learning more about you.

j = jack off (masturbation head canon)

oscar doesn’t have much time for getting himself off. (◞‸◟) regardless of his horniness level, most nights, he just falls right to sleep. when he does have a spare minute, though, he jacks off to videos of you moaning his name. he imagines it were your fingers wrapped around himself.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

like mentioned previously, oscar loves to tie your ass up, making you whimper and cum several times over before he even thinks about himself.

other than rigging, oscar loves some good food play, like eating whipped cream or something sweet from your tits until you beg for his dick.

l = location (favorite place to have sex!)

he is utterly addicted to fucking you in the car. he loves it when you think you’re the boss and drive him around town. even after you scraped another car trying to park (totally the other car’s fault), he still ate you out, reassuring you that he can afford to fix a little mistake like yours.

extra points if he gets you to suck his dick while he drives. he saw you cum in your panties one time just from sucking him off, and he found it really hot, but he knows you’d be so embarrassed if he ever found out, so he never said anything about it.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

absolutely anything to do with your tits turns him on. if you’re in the pool or it’s cold and your nipples become prominent—boom! he’s bricked up. if you spill something on your shirt and you try to clean it up with a napkin—you guessed it! man’s bricked up!

he also fucking loves it when you’re a brat, even though it seems otherwise. when you stick your tongue out at him, all he can think about is that tongue getting forced down your throat by his dick. it’s obvious because his cheeks turn red.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn off’s)

oscar doesn’t fuck with blood play or any cutting of the skin for that matter. it’s inconvenient as he trains daily and can’t afford injuries.

he also doesn’t really enjoy being dommed for a whole week. he’s got to have at least 60% control in the bedroom for him to be happy.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oscar loves driving you insane with his tongue on your pussy, eating you out how he knows you like it, but he honestly loves it more when you suck him off. it’s just a power thing, and you don’t complain because it also turns you on. ( ^ω^)

he doesn’t mind how good or bad you are at blowjobs. as long as you’re putting in the effort, this man is bound to cum.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oscar leans more on the slow side just because he wants to torture you and show you who’s in control. every now and then when you’ve proven your worth he’ll go fast and rough the way you like it, because, at the end of the day, he’s whipped for you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

oh my god i just know oscar has a quickie before every race to calm his nerves down. if he doesn’t listen to music beforehand he has to chill out in some other way, no? usually he prefers you sucking his dick off in the family bathroom before hopping in the f1 car, but when he doesn’t have you, he makes due with his hands ＞﹏＜ (though he swears he preforms better after a blowjob from you).

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

your man loves risking being caught while fucking you because he simply doesn’t give a fuck. he personally thinks the chance of getting caught makes the whole situation hotter, and loves covering your moans with wet kisses.

to experiment with non-vanilla type sex, he’s more than happy to do so. he really doesn’t mind trying new things, because baby knows what to fall back on if you’re not getting the pleasure you deserve. (>‿◠)

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

oscar can go for as long as you need. when he has the time, he loves to overstimulate you until you’re near passing out. all of the training he’s done is more than enough to fuck you hard like you want it!

t = toys (do they own toys and use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

due to his busy schedule, baby has a toy that he knows will get him off quick and take away the horniness for at least a few hours. for himself, he’s never really adventured into the world of sex toys, preferring his hands or basic toy.

when he met you, though, he started purchasing all sorts of gadgets just to drive you crazy. his favorite one to use on you is the vibrator with a suction cup that attaches to the ground. he makes you ride it and cum all over it, stroking himself at the erotic scene before fucking you hard with his own dick, making you say that his is better.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

like mentioned previously, oscar teases you endlessly, mainly just to show you who’s the boss. you’re just so cute under his lengthy fingers; who wouldn’t tease you a bit?

v = volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make? etc.)

oh god oscar lets it all out when he’s fucking your pussy. after a day of dealing with the press and holding in all of the rude comebacks he could’ve made to the reporters, oscar needs to let off his steam vocally. he groans and tells you dirty things, calling you his slut, not bothering to keep his volume down for the neighboring hotel rooms. frankly, he finds it a bit funny for them to have to hear all of his sounds.

bonus points if he can make you scream cutely as well! ≧ω≦

w = wild card (a random head canon for the person)

“mmph, fuckkk oscarrrr, feels sooo goood,” you moan with your eyes closed, focused on riding his nose while his tongue did magic to your clit. oscar just hummed in response, the vibrations going right to your core. at first you were a bit worried in case you happened to suffocate your man, but thankfully, the worry dissipated and you were riding your high, oscar with his hands on your thighs. “so fucking hot,” he’d grumble from under you, making you ride his face even faster. when you were close, oscar made sure to tug you down so he could fuck you good with his tongue, lewd noises echoing in the room.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on beneath the clothes)

wow your mans is packing. oscar acts chill but that’s because he’s able to be so confident with his figure! there’s no reason to be insecure because baby is packing, and he knows it.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

his is quite average, or if anything, below average. he’s learned how to resist his urges when training, and for that reason, only really gets hot and bothered when he sees you! ~>_<~ as long as you’re nearby, all he can think about is that pretty body of yours!

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

oscar falls asleep rather quickly because he knows he’ll be able to have you all to himself the day after. he knows you’re loyal to him and you’ll also want to spend some quality time with him. you’re his safe space, so naturally, he falls asleep around you! *^_^*

notes:

omg i wrote a whole fxcking report on this man’s sex habits holy sh!t. i wish i could write essays like how i write smut. =_=

but yes, hope you enjoyed reading! <3 who should i do next?

[islandofsages]

Hey ! Can I ask for the Diasomnia boys reacting to a male!Ignihyde!reader who join the gargoyle club (idk if it's name) ?

Like, the reader is really just interest in the gargoyles, and isn't scare of Malleus (or anyone, really. Man is too tired for being scare.)

Ignore it if you don't want to write it.

Have a good day/night ! And happy new year too.

characters: diasomnia boys x male ignihyde reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format; mentions of malleus in literally everything, lilia being a dad

warnings: none

author's notes: reader is so idgaf energy i love it. also i just remembered the small font feature exists LMAO do tell me if it's too small, i'll change it back to the original size!! if not, i'll change my previous posts to the smaller font. also you have a good day/night too anon ! and happy new year :D

Malleus Draconia

Oh? You want to join the Gargoyle Studies Club? You’re being serious? Oh!

Words cannot describe how happy he is about a fellow gargoyle appreciator though his expression doesn’t really show that

And to think you see him as just another dude… such honor was bestowed upon him…!

He’ll excitedly bring you to every gargoyle he’s found on campus and infodump about them - and you’d write them down somewhere if you’re in the mood

Sometimes you’d find new gargoyles and bring him to them and you start to do likewise

Even outside of club activities you two geek out about gargoyles at times which has earned you two the title of nerds

“Have I told you about the time I’ve met talking gargoyles? I never thought I would see such a day…”

Gargoyles aside, he has times where he confides his personal daily life in you and in turn, he’ll ask you what’s it like being in Ignihyde, etc

After being around each other so much, it feels weird when you guys aren’t together - some people would ask where Malleus is whenever you’re on your own, and vice versa

People found it weird how close an Ignihyde student is to someone from a different dorm too and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or not

But in a sense, Malleus really is your other nerdy half.

Sebek Zigvolt

You?????? Join the club where Malleus is president and is the only member of?????????

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE WORTHY OF JOINING SUCH A CLUB?”

Well, for one, the fact that you’re unfazed by his constant yelling and therefore probably too tired to be fazed by anything, consequently making you the perfect companion to Malleus because you wouldn’t react inappropriately to Malleus’ conduct

And that you actually are interested in gargoyles. That too. You tell all this to him

He clutches his head with one hand, debating your logic. You don’t know how and why but he accepts your argument

That doesn’t stop him from monitoring you two’s activities from afar but, again, you couldn’t care less. A sixteen year old’s fanatics is just part of the growing process

Outside of club activities, he interrogates you on what you’ve discussed with Malleus and you just tell him the truth: gargoyles

At some point, he gets so engrossed in your infodump about gargoyles his eyes shine with a new light

Of course, he mentions something about Malleus obviously liking something so interesting and befitting of his status - but he also thanks you for enlightening him on the topic and that he’ll go to you for more information if need be

You’ve converted him. You sometimes see him clutching a book about gargoyles around the school. It’s filled with notes sticking out of the pages. And a portion of that sometimes he’ll run to you to confirm about a fact or two

Maybe it’s safe to say you two are kind of friends now.

Silver

He doesn’t think too much of it other than being glad that Malleus finally has a fellow gargoyle fan he can geek out with

He’d see you and Malleus chatting it up around campus and he can’t stop the tender smile on his face from making an appearance

Sometimes he himself will try to strike up a conversation with you and gargoyle geek aside, he finds that you’re just a pleasant person to talk to and be around

He admits he’s not too close with any of the folks from Ignihyde aside for the Shroud brothers but you brush him off by saying that nobody is really

He also admires how you don’t really let anything get to you. Again, you shrug it off by half-joking that you’re too tired to be scared by anything at this point

He somewhat empathizes with you on that point, grieving over his narcoleptic tendencies with a heavy sigh

You try your best to cheer him up or if you have experience with such things, you give him advice on how to manage it

You then jest that he can tag along with you and Malleus’ club activities whenever he’s free if he wants. The more, the merrier, right?

He ponders it for a minute and nods. You didn’t think he’d actually accept the offer

“I don’t see a reason to refuse. Sebek and I have accompanied Malleus on his trips before. I’m sure this time around will be more fun with you here.”

And so you all do. You all have a royal time together - and the joy on Silver’s face is especially princely.

Lilia Vanrouge

He sheds (crocodile) tears at the thought of Malleus finally having an additional member in his one-man club more friends

Since you’re chill about it, he is too! As long as you get along with Malleus, everything will be fine and dandy

If anything, he’s a bit impressed by how it takes more than the average amount to gain a reaction out of you 

…and a bit concerned. Are you sure you’re getting enough nutrients? His paternal instincts kick in when you tell him you’re too tired to have a reaction to anything

He knows that Ignihyde students are mostly shut-ins but he still advises you and makes sure you get a balanced diet

It’s like he’s adopted yet another son

“Oh, (Y/N), you really ought to take care of yourself more.”

You grow a bit annoyed at him sometimes but you know his intentions are good so you don’t protest

You do feel very loved though. You didn’t expect this much from just joining a club for a topic you’re genuinely interested in

But you have to admit it is kind of hard to come by people who aren’t intimidated by the Malleus Draconia, even if you don’t see it as anything special

What’s special, though, is the affection Lilia holds for you.

[buckysgrace]

I both love and hate that Billy won’t admit his true feelings to a girl he cares about. That’s just so canon. I can see him the second he starts having feelings, freaking out in his head and distancing himself. Poor Bills 😫 Maybe that’s why I love fanfic where he has a happy ending. He really deserves one

Idk if you were asking for little blurbs but, that’s what you GET! <3

Ughhhh same same. I think he’s just so…. Fearful perhaps? Really afraid and stubborn to just open up and share what he feels (also also also the fear of being abandoned is soooo strong when he’s with someone he cares about in my opinion).

So then yes he starts distancing himself because it’s easier for him to put up those walls before he gets hurt, but maybe you’re also a little stubborn. Or just oblivious. And despite the fact that he is really trying to get away from you, you just can’t let that happen. <3

I think he’d be pretty strict on you two being “Just friends.” No arguments, he’s too scared to fully talk about labels or that he’d like you enough to consider you to be his partner (he’s crazy about you).

And I think you’d also have to deal with this man staring at you just all the time. He loves eye contact already but he also just loves to memorize how you look?? Definitely has your little quirks down and when you ask him why he’s staring he’s always gonna say you have something on your face lmao.

I think he’s also like reserved about physical touch? Very scared of accidentally hurting you at first and it’s just so uncommon to him that he gets all nervous and his hands get all sweaty and clammy lol. But once he’s over that?? He’s touching you all the time, everywhere and it doesn’t matter who’s around lol.

And so yeah maybe he won’t admit that he’s absolutely whipped and crazy about you but I think you could certainly tell by his gestures? Soft nose kisses, tracing your lips and holding you close any time he can <3

He will definitely refer to you as his pretty girl (or pretty boy whichever you prefer). I think he’d definitely warm up to like baby or babe but calling his person pretty really warms his heart <3

Piggybacking off of that like… he would get so flustered and defensive if you compliment him. Would act like he cannot believe you did such a thing and pshhh, him? Pretty?? Absolutely cannot handle you saying such things about him. He knows he’s attractive but something about you saying it so gently, so sweetly and softly makes his knees weak.

Okay and I think at first too he just… is not the best gift giver. He has not had that practice before so it’s not necessarily sloppy but when he buys you things it would be within the hobby that you enjoy, but more of his style (for instance if you like reading he’s 100% getting you his favorite genre or book). Which is also, sweet but I do think he’s observant enough that after the first few times he truly understand what you like and what you don’t like.

I also think he’s down with restaurant dates and going to the movie theater and what not but I truly believe he loves to do things that are more sensual and deep? He’s definitely a late night, lying under the stars and having deep talks kind of guy. It takes a lot for him to open up but you best believe he has you memorized like the back of his hand.

AND I also think he is just such a gentleman?? Holding the door open for you, holding your hand as you step up a curb, giving you his jacket?? All of those omg.

I think he’d also ask your parents permission to date/marry you and all of that stuff (granted you have a good relationship with him). He just seems like he’d really want to have a good relationship with them too??

I’d also like to think that he just admits his feelings just randomly, maybe not even fully realizing he did it either?? Say you’re sat together on your couch early on a Saturday morning watching cartoons, definitely a little hungover, and he’s just like “You know I love you, right?”

And you’re just so taken aback and this is definitely not the scene that you imagined (neither did he) but it just works. Takes a lot for you to muster the words back because how emotional would that be?? Then he’d just squeeze your knee with a little smile and settle back into comfortable silence 🥺

Idk if any of this made sense but but he’s just my special little guy I luv him very dearly hehe

[tomatopers]

biggest peeves with genshin x reader fics

I'm going to preface this by saying you can write whoever you want however you want and no one is gonna stop you; heck, it likely won't even affect your likes and stuff. These are my personal peeves stemming from character portrayal <3 Characters A-D

Albedo ;; He isn't very heavily emotive; He is shown to approach almost everything from a logical/analytic standpoint!! My guy expressed concern with the most nonchalant voice, so he clearly does care, just not in an expressive/passionate way

Alhaitham ;; Similar to Albedo, but slightly more expressive! He clearly has things/people that he values, and his own ways of showing care differ from societal norms, which is why he comes across as cold and indifferent!! Even the vulnerability that comes slowly with trust isn't immediately obvious, but this is definitely something that's interesting to explore in works⎯ Would he change the way he feels comfortable expressing himself into something else for you? Would you want him to?

Aloy ;; fuck what genshin did to my girl im skipping aloy

Amber ;; One of her main personality traits is the lack of deliberation!! Even with people she really cares about and loves!! Overthinking? We don't know them

Itto ;; Let bro be silly. Let bro make mistakes. Let bro have no idea what he's doing, but know he's giving it his all no matter what⎯ This is the Arataki Way.

Arlecchino ;; Gonna be honest I know jack shit about her but everything I read sounds hot <3 I do think she isn't the type to get frazzled/embarrassed but boy oh boy you can try

Baizhu ;; bffr he would NOT let you neglect your health like... Look at the man 🤨 I don't think he's the yelling type either?? Like he'll stand up for you obviously, but wouldn't start a fight imo; He got them dangerous snake eyes and scary words fr

Barbara ;; idk i don't read minor x reader things + i don't think i've ever seen a barbara x reader ever 💀 I do think she'd be patient and caring to the point where doing anything bad would make you feel guilty asf :/ not even in a romantic way, just like⎯anything. The kind persona isn't actually an act, she's in a role where she cannot be seen as anything else but it isn't hard to be kind as she would act that way, idol or not. More of a character thought, not a fic peeve </3

Beidou ;; She would start fights for you and she'd win, we all know this. I do think that many fics don't explore her emotions to a deeper extent, like motives and such? I think there's a lot of flexibility in that, and many avenues to explore! Not a peeve either, just a thought.

Bennett ;; Minor again(?), I don't read Bennett fics aha 😭 Grasping at straws here, with such a brave face shown to everyone, taking it off to share the sadder stuff sounds hard

Candace ;; Dunno much either 💀 Nor do I see any fics about her...

Charlotte ;; Would she love and cherish you? Yes. Would she leave her job for you? No. Would she feel bad about always being busy chasing headlines? Yes! Would she only really do well with a partner who supports her career and aspirations? Yes!

Chevreuse ;; Sorry guys I don't even know her 😭

Chiori ;; Would also start fights for you, would also win; Clearly takes no shit, I imagine certain compromises would take a while to reach? Canonically fairly headstrong, I doubt she'd be a pushover with an s/o

Chongyun ;; Minor 🧍

Clorinde ;; Her showing vulnerability with you definitely means a LOT. Beyond her career and the things she does for it, I just know there's so much going on in her head :( Let my girl share, give her a safe space, be patient to eventually emotionally connect

Collei ;; Minor 🤨

Cyno ;; He does not seem like the dominant/aggressive/pushy type :( I bet there's complicated feelings between the way he acts as a General and the way he acts with a lover⎯undeniably would never want you to be scared of him. Teasing type, likely nothing worse.

Dehya ;; I haven't seen her done dirty, so I'm pretty content

Diluc ;; High-functioning man, having dealt with varying stressors over so many years I doubt anything could interrupt his work flow⎯having said that, yes that means issues with a relationship making him struggle to work would mean more; Yes, i still believe that's highly unlikely

Diona ;; No.

Dori ;; No. Also, I hate her.

[love-anddeepression]

Father Mine- 3

ok so this is where canon goes out the window, ive made my own universe, this might be blasphemy against marvel comics but i dont know. Honestly i made this up as i kept going and i like how this chapter ended<3 tell me how you like it! if you want a spoiler go to the tags and see what i've tagged :) part 1

You must have passed out because you wake up in someone’s living room.

“Anyone home?” You dare to call out. The apartment is sort of open-plan and if you had the energy to turn around and move you would have been able to see the man in the white suit staring at you.

“Yep. Hello!” The man walks up to you and you flinch at his strong southern london accent and glaring white suit that makes him look like a psycho Colonel Sanders, “I hope you’re alright, Khonshu said you were from another dimension?”

You reluctantly reply, “That’s right? And by Khonshu do you mean the actual Egyptian God?”

He nods excitedly, “Yea! Right twit he is!”

You look at him worriedly, maybe he is psycho colonel sanders after all.

He looks at himself in the mirror and does a double take, “Oh bollocks! No wonder you look scared!” The suit disappears to reveal a man with wild curls in an oversize t-shirt and pajamas, “sorry, sometimes I forget I still have it on.” He smiles nervously, “Um I’m Steven. With a V.”

That causes you to smile a little, maybe he’s not so bad, “Hello Steven.” You wave from your position on the couch and tell him your name.

Behind him you see a bony pigeon looking skeleton appear and your eyes widen, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” You point at it and scream.

Steven turns around, “That’s Khonshu, you can see him?”

“NO SHIT!” You web a wall and pull yourself up to stick to it, glaring at the offending creature.

“That’s mental.” He exclaims.

“What universe is this?” You ask him, eyes narrowed underneath your mask.

“Well, there’s no particular name for it.” Steven begins, but Khonshu intervenes, “How is it that you were able to traverse through the inter dimensional planes?”

“I knew someone who could.”

Suddenly Stevens demeanour changes and your spider sense tingles, you ready your webs against the potential threat.

The voice that comes out of Stevens mouth is not his. It’s the sound of the man who threw you here.

“Kid?” He says when you freeze and take your mask off, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You’re-You’re not Steven.” Your voice breaks at the familiar lilt.

He shakes his head, “My name is Marc.”

———————————-

“Miguel! Stop it!” Jess finally snaps and the man looks up at her.

She takes a hold of his hair and uses it to maneuver his face to look at him, “You either go and get her back, or you fucking move on. Because in this state there is no way you will be able to do anything. Get your shit together. ”

He gulps, not used to seeing her angry side often and nods.

“She thinks I’m a monster.” He looks down at his toes and breathes shakily.

“Then prove to her that you’re not. You’re her father, regardless of what she says, she still loves you. You need to apologize to her.” She looks at him pointedly and he sighs.

"What do you want me to say, 'Hey honey, I know what I did was wrong, I was wrong to chase a teenager and I was too blinded by my fear of losing my daughter again that I chased you away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Thats not going to be good enough."

"It's a start."

"Jessica." he looks up

"What?"

"I should have told you, something about her."

"What?"

"She's not a normal variant, even if her universe was destroyed. That fact alone makes her a special case. There's a reason I sent her to Earth 19999. Her atoms and dna will not glitch there. And I don't know why."

"Why didn't you send her there before?"

"It was too dangerous."

"As opposed to Earth 1999999?" Jess raises an eyebrow.

"Very similar universes, but everything is flipped."

The woman tilts her head, "What do you mean?"

————-

You sip on the hot tea Steven had made for you, glaring at the bony god sitting opposite you.

“I cannot send you back, child.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“As if I didn’t know that. The tea’s lovely, thank you.” You smile at Steven who beams at you. He’s much nicer than the American man living inside him. The one who was Miguel in this universe.

“Marc?”

He nods, “I happen to know of someone who can help you.”

You tilt your head, “Go on.”

He went to explain how he was on call as an Avenger, who were considered the world’s mightiest heroes, and how he was acquainted with someone known as Dr Strange.

As soon as he says, the name Strange, your mind considers the possibility that you might be in the universe of idiots, as Miguel calls it. Earth-1999999.

He’s spent whole hours explaining the entire storyline that honestly came out of a movie to you and while it was such, really Captain America you ditched your best friend to go be with someone who had already moved on? You were drawn to the universe.

It reminded you very much of your home universe that was destroyed.

When you’d nodded and said you’d be on your way he’d blocked you from leaving. Saying it was too dangerous and that you were being an irresponsible person.

You tried to reason with him but he was able to block your punches with efficiency, and he reached for your web slingers. The ones Miguel had given you.

That was currently why there was a purple bruise on Stevens’s cheek that you felt bad about. This sweet man didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of a hard punch. So you had helped him around the kitchen and he made you tea as a way of saying thank you.

“If you can’t take me away, you can atleast lead me to Strange, considering your own Knight isn’t letting me leave.”

“For good reason.”

“But it doesn’t make sense, without the watch I would be glitching every three seconds because the universe would not accept my genes. Here I haven’t glitched a single time.”

The god tilts his head and seems to contemplate your words, mimicking the man who looks at you with his head tilted, “Most interesting.”

Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as orange sparks began to appear out of thin air, forming a circle and then a portal out of which a man with a weird beard walks through. He nods at Steven and walks over to you, “So you’re the one huh?”

“No, your mom is.” You snarl, “Yes. Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “Am I a common topic of conversation in the multiverse?”

“When we have to make fun of something yes.” You grin.

He rolls his eyes, “How did you arrive here?”

“Look I'd leave if I could, sir. But my device was taken away by the jerk who sent me here.”

His eyes narrow, “Sent you?”

Shit, you might have said the wrong thing.

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

"So you're not from here." The sorcerer supreme raises his eyebrow at you.

"No, sir." you're shocked at your politeness, but the man demands respect.

"And you cannot go back?"

"No."

"There is only one person now, who is capable of autonomous multiverse travel, America Chavez. And even her powers are not perfect. It is too risky to do this."

"What would you have me do then?" you ask.

"Wait here, there must be a reason you are not glitching. Maybe, you were meant to be sent here." Strange reasons.

His words make sense, honestly, maybe this universe would be your new home. Even back in Nueva York, you had to wear the watch at all times, or you'd be glitching.

But did Miguel know that? Because if he didn't know, then that would mean he'd sent you to your death.

You just nod at what Strange says, his words going in one year and out the other. You miss the way his eyes glint and flash. His shadow moving under him.

"She can stay with us at the tower." Steven puts his hand on your shoulder, looking directly at Strange, no smile on his face. After a few moments, the Doctor nods.

Your spider sense starts to tingle, and you glace at Steven, who only smiles at you. All teeth. Eyes that are blank. Devoid of emotion.

Now that you're here to stay, he looks like he's never been happier.

"You're going to enjoy yourself here, love." he pats your shoulder, "We'll all have a bit of fun."

You need to run.

[toobusybeingdelulu]

no because why do I have the feeling that the night at the Byers’ house steve needed that fight more than billy? think about it. When seeing Steve on the porch he immediately relaxes (leaning against the car, lighted cigarette, hand on the belt) while Steve is more closed off and tense (arms crossed etc).

Steve knew that that encounter would have ended in blood one way or another, while I don’t think that Billy did: he was just there to pick up his sister. His night had already been ruined. Not even a fight could fix it. And also he had to hurry up because Neil was waiting for him, and last but not least… I don’t think he had wanted to fight steve in the first place, despite what everyone may think. I’ve always had the impression that, in canon, he wanted to get to know him in a non-antagonistic way, but didn’t know how to properly… do that, you know? So yeah, a bit of advice on the basketball court, with just enough pushing to not give Steve the idea that he was some sort of pussy (after all, we‘ve seen how he was raised), then some compliments under the shower and a little bit of encouragement (‘don’t sweat it Harrington’ ‘today is just not your day man’ + side eye at Tommy when he teased him about Nancy + ‘don’t take it too hard man, a pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about.’) and he probably thought that maybe he was doing a good job at it?

Well. Steve did not think so. How can we blame him tho? Let’s remember that Steve is in a hurricane of emotions in season 2: he just lost his spot as king of the crowds, his shot at a normal life and his girlfriend. And then there is this new boy (who is going through just as much of a change) who cannot stop being in his space, and being mean, and pushing him around, and how could he believe that he was being friendly? Of course he is gonna think that dude’s just being a dick for the sake of making his life hell, for some reason. Even the compliments he threw his way may sound as mocking for someone who had been told to his face by his girlfriend that he was nothing but bullshit.

So.. yeah. It’s safe to say that these two idiots did not understand each other, so a fight had been inevitable. And of course it was started by Steve. Because he is the one that had a different perception of Billy’s behaviors towards him than billy himself: maybe he thought that he would have fought him even if he had told him the truth. Or some reasonable lie. Either way, it would have been inevitable. but least he could have a little fun before the first punch, ergo the “were you dropped too much as a child or what?” Because what the duffers and even his fans don’t understand about Steve Harrington’s character is that he is still a former mean girl. No matter how hard they try to uwufying him. Did he change since s1? Sure. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be bitter. That he can’t be awful sometimes. And selfish. But that is fine!! Because that’s what made him interesting in the first place. And the night at the Byers’ had been one of those times. Did billy get out of line with his violence once started? Sure. But Steve threw the first punch. And he needed that fight, because unlike the monster in the fridge, THAT was something familiar. THAT was something normal teenagers did.

and the thing that makes this dynamic even more interesting? Is that Billy loved this side of Steve (“looks like you got some fire in you after all huh? I’ve been waiting to meet this king Steve everyone is telling me so much about”) Because, once again, it was something that he recognized.

In the end, they were both scared kids trying to find a bit of normalcy in each other’s blood in order to escape their respective monsters.

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between BOTW and TOTK

Chapter Five: My North Star

Read chapter four here

My masterlist

Song: August by Taylor Swift

Summary: Link and Zelda get a visitor from an old friend, and start to remember how to live for the hope of it all.

Warnings: brief and non graphic mentions of death and dead bodies, canon-typical violence and horror, PTSD (always for this fan fic)

Word Count: 3.3k words

Authors Note: finally some happy moments lol. Also this is unedited!! ALSO I KNOW I HAVE SO MANY UNANSWERED ASKS RN I PROMISE I AM NOT IGNORING YOU IM JUST BUSY AND LAZY kloveyoubye

It takes only three more days for Impa to arrive at their door, angrily pounding her staff on the wooden plank. It’s early, she beats the rooster, and Link is rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he stumbles to the door from his makeshift bed he’s made adjacent to the kitchen.

He’s shocked to see the old woman staring up at him, as far as he knows, she hasn’t left Kakariko village in decades.

“You completed the mission and your first instinct was NOT to come and tell me?” She asks, her wrinkled lips pressed firmly into a frown. Link looks up to see Cado, apologetic. His hair is down, shirt is off, and he’s barely wearing trousers. He yawns.

“Good morning, Master Impa.” He bows deeply to her and she just whacks his skull with her cane in the same manner she did the door. Link yelps and rubs the top of his head. “What was that for?” He asks.

“Where’s the princess?”

“She’s sleeping still, it’s barely sunrise.” Link rubs some more sleep from his lashes, his hand in a tight fist. “You know, most people say good morning when you see them first thing…”

Impa then lets herself into the house, pushing past him like the angry ball of spunk she is. “I’ll have tea.” She states, “And I’d like to see my friend.” Link and Cado look at each other, the Sheikah man staring at him apologetically.

Link nods, walking to the furnace and kneeling in front of it. He blows on the dying embers from the night before, placing a small log on them. Flames catch, and he’s setting the kettle over them, still full of water from yesterday. Cado closes the door and sits across from Impa at the table. Link eyes his bed roll in the corner of the room, kicking some blankets around in an attempt to make it look less disheveled, but the elderly woman just squints at the state of the house. If only she had seen it a week ago. Link was starting to feel proud of he and Zelda’s progress, wildflowers being placed in a vase on the table, and their plates polished and put away neatly for the first time. After Impa’s scrutinizing gaze, however, he was feeling all sorts of insecure again.

The air is stagnant.

“She's still sleeping…still.” Link clears his throat, his voice hushed. “She needs to rest because-“

“Link, two bodies were found just outside of the castle two days ago, the man who found them also reports seeing a Shadowy Figure, covered in what he suspects is malice.” Impa interrupts him.

“What?” He asks, startled.

“I didn’t want to lead with that, but it cannot be ignored.” She spoke in the same hushed tone. They didn’t want to wake the Princess, and they especially didn’t want to scare her.

“Treasure hunters? I mean it's still a war zone there, it wasn’t anything else… right? He was lying, surely. All the Malice disappeared…” Link asks, feeling the blood go from his face.

“The man was Me.” Cado frowns. He would never lie. “After we got your message from Purah, I traveled to the castle to confirm that the Calamity was destroyed. The bodies were hylian, two young people. A boy and a girl… I thought it was..”

Cado’s voice became too loud, and Link hushed him.

“We want to think it was leftover spells, but we don’t know. We don’t know who else to ask to investigate.” Impa says.

“Now that Hyrule is safe, it's time we start reestablishing civility, democracy.” Cado steps in.

“It’s been eleven days since I defeated him.” Link crosses his arms, “I’m still not sleeping through the nights, Zelda doesn’t have her full strength back yet. You promised me I would get to rest when it was all over.” He looks at the Sheikah Chief.

“Don’t lie to me, Link.” Impa shakes her head, “I know you can’t stay in one place for too long. No matter how hard you try.” She states. She wasn’t wrong, but recently Link has started to feel different.

The kettle starts to whistle. Link swallows his frustration and takes it off the heat, preparing three cups of green bell tea. Everyone feels discomfort. “Did the figure do anything?” Link asks as he pours the hot water into the cups, his back turned to the Sheikah.

“It just stared at me, it was tall, hunched over.” Cado describes, one could easily hear the fear in his voice. “We stared at each other, I couldn’t tell if it was from this world or not.”

“Tall like a Zora or tall like a Gerudo?” Link asks, still turned away.

“Gerudo.” Cado struggled to say it. “I drew my sword, and as soon as I did, it turned away from me and walked into the mist to the south. I never saw it again.”

Link swallows and then turns around finally, carrying the cups to the table. “And the bodies?”

“Cause of death was unknown, I checked for a pulse multiple times but they were both long gone. They were dressed in traveler's garb. Their dress seemed to be from the north.”

“If they have families they need to know.” Link sits, holding the mug of tea in his hands.

“You’re the only one who could inform them about such a thing.” Impa says. “Tabantha is a long way, but you could be there and back in an hour if you warp. We’ll stay here until you-“

“The sheikah slate is utterly destroyed.” Link admits. “I left it with Purah but she essentially told me it's beyond repair.”

“You’d have to go on foot like the rest of us.” Cado smirks.

“Why would I?” Link asks, perhaps too forcefully. “I did my quest.”

Impa stares at him, silent for a moment, “You don’t really feel that way.” She shakes her head, “And if you do, then you are not the same man who woke up three years ago.”

“I’m not!” Link almost shouts, and they all bite their tongues, listening for any sound from upstairs. “Impa… you know I care. You know I want to go find whatever that figure was, but I am tired.” His voice cracks. “I can’t just sleep this one off.” He can’t look at her, if he does, he’ll break. “This is much deeper than exhaustion. It’s… it’s traumatic.

I still see him. His eyes, the way His heat radiated and burned my skin, the sound of His laughter. He Haunts me at night, I swear He finds ways into my dreams and taunts me there. Like it was all just a game to Him. Because it was. It always was. He’ll do it again a hundred times, and we can’t ever stop Him. There will be countless more Links who lose their hearing and can’t sleep and won't even look themselves in a mirror because as long as the triforce exists, He will mock us all with His deviance.”

Link stares into his tea.

“Impa…” A quiet voice says from the stairs, and all three of them are turning to see her. Long, blonde hair draped over her shoulder, eyes sleepy and confused, hands at her sides.

She nearly trips down the stairs as she runs to the woman, wrapping her hands around her neck and crying. Impa immediately holds her back, laughing, taking an old, bony hand and stroking the top of her friend's head with it.

“Good Morning, my dear.”

Link and Cado share one more glance.

The day is spent with hugs and laughter and Zelda looking into Impa’s eyes and crying every time she sees that they’re still the same eyes. Link cooks for them, and gets as quiet as he was at the start of this war. It’s all he can think about. Did it return for other Links? Did it return this early?

Zelda must have noticed his distance because while Impa is telling Zelda all about the man she married, the Princess is glancing at Link. His shoulders tense, his head down, his voice silent. She frowns, deciding to ask him about it later.

Cado was delighted to meet the woman, bowing deeply for her. He eventually got on a tangent about his children while they ate the omelets Link prepared, but Link stayed silent. He glances over at the Master Sword, leaning against the corner of the room, staring back at him.

He distracts himself the rest of the day with Epona, tending to her constantly while Zelda tells Impa every single detail about her time sealed away. The two prayed over each other a few times. The sun gets low in the sky, Link stays silent.

They come back inside, and before Impa and Cado enter from the outside to begin their next hour of catching up, Zelda places a gentle hand on Link’s shoulder. “Link,”

He turns to look at her, everything about him immediately softening as her green eyes stare at him.

“You’re upset?” She says, her voice soothing.

“No I’m not.” He denies. She raises an eyebrow.

“I know you.” Link becomes acutely aware of her thumb that starts rubbing circles into his muscle and he has to remind himself how to stand. ”Talk to me.”

He knows he can’t tell her about this, not yet. “Later?” He asks. She smiles and nods.

“I’m here for you.”

Link begins dinner, and Zelda washes up, leaving the three alone for the first time since early morning.

Impa stares, Cado uncomfortably clears his throat. Link looks at them, frowning, knowing what they want.

He sighs deeply.

“I will return to the castle. Zelda and I briefly discussed returning the Champion’s weapons to their people, and can do it then.” He finally says. “Tell every leader to warn their people to avoid the castle at all costs.”

“Good.” Impa nods.

“But-“ Link holds his hand up, “I’m not going until both she and I are ready.” He says.

“What do you mean by ready?” That old woman was always so pushy.

“When Zel and I both feel ready to return to those places without it absolutely crushing our spirits, we will go. Together.”

“Hylia knows when that will be.” Cado scoffs.

“Exactly.” Link says. “Unless more deaths are reported or this shadow is seen again, it can wait. Everyone has been avoiding the castle for a century, what’s a little while longer?” Link states, silently proud of himself for sticking up for himself and not just being the obedient soldier he was trained to be. “Besides, no one should be there anyways, it’s not safe.”

“You’re in love with the Princess.” Impa states with a chuckle and Link sputters, the wind knocking out of him.

“What? Why would you say that?” He asks.

“I saw you two. The way you look at her.” Impa smirks. Link feels his ears heat up, Cado stifles a laugh.

“You are so rude.” Link replies.

“I think you two need each other.” Impa shrugs, “But do not let any worldly affection keep you in the way of what really matters here: Hyrule and its people.”

Impa always knew exactly how to remind Link that he is just a soldier.

“We will leave before we eat. At this rate we will not return home until late into the night.” Impa states, standing back up.

They say their goodbyes. Zelda promises to visit, Impa gives her a kiss on the forehead, Cado bows again. And just as the sun begins to set, the pair is headed through the bridge.

Both Link and Zelda stand in the doorway as they watch them leave. Zelda starts to sniffle, wiping a tear.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Link says in a comforting tone when he sees her cry, turning to face her. “It’s okay, we’re gonna see her again real soon.” He reassures. Zelda sighs.

“She got so old, without me.” She tries to swallow her sob but fails. She presses her tear-stained face into the crook of Link’s neck, and he just holds her for as long she needs. Zelda is the one to pull away after a moment of comfort. “I’m sorry… I know there's something troubling you, too. I shouldn’t be so selfish.” Zelda sighs.

Link swallows, “It’s nothing. Not for tonight.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.” Link nods. “Can I show you something?” He asks, and Zelda is nodding as he takes her hand and leads her up stairs. He pushes open a hatch on the ceiling in the corner, and a rickety ladder slides down. Some dust and cobwebs fly down, but when the air clears, Link is climbing up onto the roof of their house. He helps Zelda up next, and she’s looking up at the night sky with bright eyes. It’s still not totally dark yet, but the first few stars are starting to shine.

The roof is slightly slanted, but not enough to cause either of them concern. They both comfortably find a position on the tiles, facing south, noses pointed at the heavens. There’s about a foot of space between them, and Link wants to scoot closer into her, but chooses not to. He closes the hatch from the outside, so the warm light of the house doesn’t pollute their view.

“I like to come up here to clear my head.” He says. “It doesn’t hold a candle to the night sky in Hebra or out in the desert, but it's still pretty spectacular.”

Zelda hums, “You’ll have to take me someday.” She stays looking at the sky but Link looks at her. Her profile is beautiful, hair long and cascading, ears pointed and blushed. Surely she knew he was staring, but neither of them did anything to stop.

“One day.” He nods before looking away and laying on his back. He rests his arms behind his head, crossing an ankle over his bended knee. “That one is called Haru.” He points to an especially bright star, “It’s part of the constellation Nabooru.” He then traces the warrior constellation with his finger.

“I remember, yes.” Zelda scoots into him, and he tries to stifle his smile. She doesn’t lay next to him, but now they’re a mere inches apart.

“And this is the North Star.” Link cranes his neck back to see it. “It moves though, did you know that? True north changes over time, so that one was the North Star when we were born, but over time the celestial bodies shifted and now it's that one. They didn’t even know that until I came back, because I was following the original one and ended up in Lanayru instead of Eldin. I talked with Purah and Robbie and they agreed, isn’t that fascinating?” He asks with a smile.

Zelda smiles so wide she thinks her cheeks will burst. “I never heard you speak like that before. With so much passion and eloquence.”

Link looks at her and just chuckles, “Now everyone follows the new star, but it didn’t have a name yet….”

“We should name it!” She gasps.

“Oh…I already did.” Link frowns, “I named it after I got my first memory back.” He shrugs. “I”m sorry. But there are plenty of stars without names anymore. A lot of the scientific research got destroyed with the…” He stops himself, “Well you know why. No one these days even knows the constellations anymore. I’m the only one.”

“What did you name it?” Zelda smiles.

Link looks at her again, “Zelda.”

She just about passes out from flattery, smiling down at her knees which are bent into her chest, blushing a little. “That’s very nice.”

“It was my true north.” He says. “I’d have been lost without it.”

It was fully dark now, and the sky lit up with the twinkling lights, the moon was a small sliver of a crescent and hung low in the sky near the sea.

“When did you remember the constellations?” She asked.

“They come to me slowly. It was required for all knights to know them, as I’m sure you remember.” Link described, looking to the heavens again. “I still can’t think of half of them.”

“Well isn’t that one Navi?” She points to another star.

“No, that one is Navi.” Link scoots up to her level, closing the gap further between them, and takes his hand to move her arm to the right star, his calloused and scarred flesh rough against her soft skin. “That one is the top of the constellation Hylia-“

“-Hylia”

They say it together. Perfectly in tune.

Their faces turn towards one another, locking eyes. The air freezes, time itself seems to hold.

Their hearts simultaneously skip a beat, and a soft blow of warm wind passes by, brushing through their hair.

Link makes the mistake of looking at her lips and for a split second he swears she leans in, but before anything goes any further, she’s moving away and laying down next to him.

He supposes this is alright, too.

“I wonder what she thinks of all this.” Link says.

Zelda is quiet ....“I sometimes wonder if the God’s regret making man.”

“What do you mean?” Link asks, looking at her.

“Well… man is what caused the curse of the loop anyways. If it weren’t for us, Hyrule wouldn’t have to be rebuilt every ten thousand years.” She frowns. “Maybe they wish they had left their creation to rest without our feeble beings.”

“I don’t think that.” Link shakes his head. “I think they put us here because we are flawed, not in spite of it.

I think our mistakes, our sins, our curses are what makes us special. Life would be futile if we were perfect. There would be no motivation. No growth. No passion.

You cannot have good without evil, or light without dark, or joy without pain.

That’s what’s so beautiful about life. I think the God’s know that. I think they love us because of it. That is a luxury they don’t have. I see it as a gift. To live for the hope of it all.”

Link rambles, and Zelda is stunned for a moment. She turns her head to look at him, this time he’s the one with wonder-filled eyes staring up, ignoring the gaze of the other.

“I really think you should wield the triforce of wisdom.” Zelda teases.

Link looks at her, their noses almost touching. “Oh no, I’m only profound when I’m around you.” He shakes his head, giggling. “You should see me try to talk my way through Gerudo town, there's nothing wise about it.” His tone is playful, and they both laugh over it. “I accidentally told a woman she looked pregnant instead of ordering a drink at the bar.” Link explains and then says the two phrases in Gerudo, Zelda can admit they have very similar pronunciations and the both of them are full-belly laughing at the situation. Zelda asks how he managed to get out of that situation, and Link had to describe further that he was in disguise, which made everything harder to get through. Zelda couldn’t get the image of Link in a woman’s clothing out of her mind, and Link only sets her off further when he finishes the story with him getting slapped by an elderly Gerudo Woman. It isn’t much longer until she has tears welling down her face, but this time they are finally tears of laughter and joy.

When they both finally pull themselves together, Zelda smiles at him, wiping a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Thank you.” She sighs, her stomach aching from laughter.

Zelda then takes a risk, and snakes her hand in between them before wrapping it around Link’s. They don’t lock fingers, and it isn’t even necessarily classified as a romantic gesture, but she just squeezes his hand, thankful for cheering her up, thankful for reminding her that there is still hope.

There is hope in balance.

She tries to pull it away, not wanting to overstep, but Link is holding her hand tighter, keeping it in his grip. Zelda happily obliges, and they keep their hands clasped at their sides the whole night.

—

Chapter Six

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The Hermit (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: There is a blonde kinslayer in your bathroom. He appears to be your soulmate. It's worrying.

Warnings: It's Aemond. Sexual thoughts, mature language, canon character death. Yes! I killed Luke again.

A/N: Halloween celebration. Part 1 here.

There is something to be said about women with shrill voices. Perhaps, if Aegon were here, he would know the perfect jest to make. Not Aemond, though. Aemond only manages to groan and rest his forehead against the cool and humid surface underneath him.

“Who the hell are you?” The woman shrieks. Aemond is not sure exactly where he is, or how he got here, but it doesn't mean he will tolerate disrespect. He turns on his side and starts to get up. His head pounds more than it does on his bad days, when the migraines will start like icicles stabbing at his eye.

The woman is scantily clad, body wrapped in a towel that leaves little to the imagination. With how little modesty she displays, and those terrible manners, she can be nothing but a commoner.

Aemond tries hard to not stare. He is not like Aegon, panting like a dog after a pretty maid. All the thoughts of your beauty must be put aside, no matter how arousing the sight of your naked, soft body is to him.

“How dare you, peasant.” Aemond says, getting into a crouching position before standing. The floor feels slippery under his boots, which reminds him of Cole's teachings. A good swordsman must always be aware of his surroundings. Notice the ground under his feet, the enemies around and the allies near.

He is not sure what you are, enemy or ally. By the smell and looks of it, he seems to be in a bathing room. Your features are half drowned in darkness, the candlelight illuminating just the barest hint of scared eyes and a quirky mouth. You don't look like an enemy, but nor do you look familiar.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen.” You blink at him. Then, you blink some more. You offer your name in response, still a bit dazed. It's not one he recognizes, but at least, your shrieking has stopped.

“There was something in the bath.” You say, voice shaky. You do not seem to acknowledge his rank, which starts to irk him a bit. “I was drugged, and now I am hallucinating.”

Ah. Well, that's a bit more like it. If you say it figuratively, of course. If you are so impressed by him you think you are hallucinating, Aemond can forgive for it. He had heard tales of how much Targaryens impressed the common folk. It was not your fault that you were so impressed by royalty.

You step around him and grab your clothes. Aemond cannot help but admire the smooth expanse of your back, and how gracefully your shoulders flex and move when you pull a shirt over your head. It's an odd garment, probably made of linen, but in a loud color.

That thought makes him wonder if you are truly a peasant. Dye is expensive, and especially in the amounts needed to achieve such a garish color.

“That's not very proper.” He comments, as he watches the towel drop from your body. The faith of the Seven prohibits men and women watching each other in such a manner. But Aemond is unable to avert his eyes from the sight of you changing. The low light contributes to preserving your modesty and making him feel less guilty about looking at you in such a manner. His breath hitches at each new piece of you unveiled, from the soft curve of your breast, to the way your stomach moves when you bend.

“You sound so real.” You marvel, turning back to face him. You have managed to put on the shirt, which barely covers your thighs. Aemond wonders whose garment it is. A lover's, perhaps? Or a husband's? The thought angers him like no other, hands fisting by his side. The idea of another man having you does not sit right with him.

“I am real.” He is a tad offended. If this is someone's hallucination, it is his. Aemond cannot fathom a reason why he would be here, in such a strange bathing room and with an unknown woman. The idea of this being a dream has some merit.

One second he had been fuming in his room after making a particularly nasty toast to his nephews, the next he had appeared here. He must have fallen asleep over his desk. It would not be the first time.

“No, you are not. You are a figment of my imagination.” You reply, almost echoing his thoughts. Aemond fails at fully suppressing his amusement, the corners of his lips barely twitching upwards.

“Am I? I would think, if life was no more than a fantasy, it would not be one of someone as unimportant as you.” The concept is one he is familiar with. His long studies of philosophy have made him realize there is much he doesn't know about the world. The topic of differentiating reality from fantasy and the lack of a free will was one he was well acquainted with.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond had found little solace in the Faith, despite fulfilling his duties as a devout Prince. He often wondered if fate existed, and if that moment had been planted by the Gods to allow him to serve a purpose he had not yet discovered. There could be free will, everyone writing their destinies. Perhaps, nothing existed at all.

He didn't like pondering on that too much, though. It would make existence meaningless.

“Rude.” You mutter, hands going to your hips and making the horrible shirt you are wearing tense delightfully around your figure. “So the figment of my imagination has read Calderón de la Barca.”

Aemond blushes slightly. He has not read Calderón de la Barca. He prides himself on being well-read, but this particular author he had never heard of. It's interesting, though. If you know of an author Aemond doesn't know, it means that not only do you know how to read but that you are also highly educated.

Why? He wonders. What is so special about you, and your little peasant ways, to merit being more educated than a Prince?

“I do not know what Calderón de la Barca is, peasant.” He explains, feeling a tad embarrassed over the whole affair. Studying is his thing, after all. Aemond takes pride in excelling at all sorts of princely traits, and being well-read is one of the most important of them all. “But I am an avid reader.”

“My name is not peasant.” You give him an angry little huff, and step outside the bathing room. Aemond follows you. He figures, if he is in a strange place, it might be best to stick near. This feels too real to be a dream.

“I never said it was.” It comes out stunned. He can't help it, too busy staring at his surroundings. Now out of the bathing room, Aemond realizes this place must be your chambers. There is a love seat, some padded chairs, and even a small dining area. Odd appliances clutter the entire place, like a strange gray box that almost looks like an upright coffin and a black and sleek rectangle over a table. He is either dreaming, or in a foreign place.

He sticks very closely to you. You walk towards the door, grabbing some strange keys from a tray. They look much smaller and shiny than what Aemond is used to.

“Should I drive?” You muse aloud. The question is clearly not meant for him, since he has no clue what you mean. “No, best not. I need help. I doubt that's safe.” You put the keys down and yet again, open another door.

Aemond is starting to marvel at the sheer amount of space your chambers have. This is rather uncommon for a peasant. That, combined with your education, must mean you are something more. A courtesan, perhaps? One of the expensive ones, like in the Free Cities. Not something so crass as the dancer his Uncle had kept, though.

You step outside, Aemond still following. At that, you scowl.

“Of course he follows, he is a hallucination.” You mutter, and Aemond cannot help but laugh a little. It seems you have yet to let go of that particular theory. The two of you step into a hallway of some sort, where numbered doors stand. You knock on one of them, still in your flimsy clothing. Now that he realizes you are about to see someone else, he has the strange impulse of covering you up.

“Here.” Aemond says, taking off his outer layer and wrapping it around your shoulders. “You are too undressed.”

Another woman, much older and dressed in even stranger clothing, opens the door.

“Oh, dear. Have you locked yourself out again?” She says, before you even get a chance to speak. She ducks back inside her chambers and appears again with a key and a handful of brightly colored papers.

“No, I… I think…” You start saying, but the woman ignores you and turns towards him. She clearly senses his importance or recognizes him.

“Here.” The woman says, thrusting the bright papers that seem to have something tiny inside, in Aemond's hands. Some sort of tribute? Aemond has seen how the commoners shower Helaena and his mother in flowers when they get the chance to see them. “These were meant for the children, earlier, but your costume is very nice. You are dressed as the guy from that series, aren't you? My granddaughter is all over him.”

Aemond gapes. He is not sure if he has ever heard a sentence as nonsensical as that, and he speaks with Helaena daily.

“You can see him?” You ask, sounding alarmed. You step backwards, nearly colliding with him. Aemond takes the chance to grab you by the waist. He is starting to get the feeling something is very wrong. Costume? Series? What in the Seven Hells is going on?

One thing is clear. He is not letting you leave him alone now.

“Of course I can.” The older woman says, turning towards you with a worried frown. “Are you alright?”

Your face crumbles. Aemond squeezes your waist. He hopes you get the unspoken signal.

“She is.” Aemond quickly says. He has never been good at lying, dammit. “She is going as that… “

“Oh, the one in the movie.” The woman says. Aemond is not sure about what a movie is, but it seems to make sense to her, even if she is embarrassed by it. Perhaps, she doesn't know what movie he is referring to, and frankly, neither does he, but does not want to embarrass you.

Aemond lets the woman open your chambers' door with her key, keeping you in place with a tight grip. You squeak a bit, but otherwise remain quiet, too shocked by your realization. It helps that his arm on your waist squeezes harder each time you are about to spout some more nonsense.

“Am I dreaming?” You ask him, when he gently leads you back inside. You are shivering a bit, either from the shock or the cold. Aemond looks at you, barelegged and barefooted, and frowns.

“I understand your occupation must have ridden you of your modesty, but it does not make you immune from the cold.” He says, in a disapproving tone.

“My occupation?” You echo. Your eyes narrow. Aemond coughs, awkwardly.

“You know.” Suddenly, the artwork displayed on your walls is very intriguing. It's a very well achieved rendition of the countryside. He wonders who painted it. They must be talented.

“I do not know.” Your voice is firm. Aemond wishes you didn't make him say it. “This is bizarre enough as it is. Tell me.”

“That's not a way of speaking to a Prince.” He barks because he might find you fascinating, but you are getting ahead of yourself. Aemond is not about to tolerate being disrespected, not even from a pretty face. “A courtesan such as yourself should know better.”

You make a wheezing sound, as if you are being strangled. It's rather attractive.

“I am no courtesan!”

“To me, you look like one. These chambers are filled with rare artifacts and instruments.” Aemond walks towards the strange love seat you own and sits on it. The seat is much more plush than what he is used to, but to his disappointment, not made of real leather.

“So?” You arch an eyebrow and go sit in one of your chairs. His cloak parts slightly as you draw your knees up, allowing him to see the bare skin your shirt does little to conceal.

You level him with a strange look. Your head is tilted to the side, as if curious, but your eyes seem wary yet.

“You are pretty and lack modesty.” Aemond watches right back. It's evident many powerful men would offer just anything to have a night with you. Ever since that incident when he was thirteen, he has avoided whores. Courtesans, though, are something he could be interested in. Taught in the arts of conversation, they served as companions as much as bed warmers. It would not be strange if he were to become your patron. “And are oddly cultured.”

“Because this is not Westeros.” You yawn. Your eyes are exhausted. Aemond is not sure of the hour, but he finds commendable the fact that your chambers are so well lit, without a fireplace in sight. The thought distracts him from the fact that you are not a courtesan, and he will be unable to have you as he had hoped for.

“I had supposed I was far from home. But that far?” He asks you.

“That far.” You smile at him. It does not reach your eyes, expression troubled. “So we both abandoned the theory of this being a dream.”

Aemond hums, thoughtfully. Then, another thought occurs to him.

“There were many candles in your bathing room, and it smelled like herbs. Are you a witch?” A witch could also be hired. Useful, too.

“No. But I knew one.” Your smile turns a little strained. Aemond frowns. No witch, no courtesan, then what? Just peasant? You look too unique to be part of the common folk. Not to say, too healthy and clean.

A witch. You had hired a witch, and a good one, considering Aemond was here. That was not commoner's behavior. They were too fearful of the Faith of the Seven to do so. Besides, it was expensive.

“And this witch of yours, she brought me here? For what purpose?”

“She is not my witch.” You answer, before hesitating. Your lips move, but it takes a while before you make any sort of sound. “And the ritual, it was not to bring you. It went wrong.”

“Wrong?” He tries prompting you, but you only scowl at him. “Answer me. Answer your Prince.”

“You are not my Prince.” You say, resentfully. Aemond had not thought he would like his women a little defiant, but he is quickly figuring that a little fire can be nice. He wonders if you are that assertive in bed, too, and cannot help but smirk. That must be why his uncle loves mouthiness. “It was supposed to bring love into my life.”

“That's interesting.” That makes Aemond peer up. He looks you over, with new interest. While a bit too immodest for his liking, you are pretty and educated. You would make a good wife, once he taught you proper behavior. Your lack of good breeding, though, that was an issue. “You are bright. And gorgeous, too.”

“Thank you?” You ask him. Aemond beckons you over with a gesture, curious to see if you obey.

You get up from your seat and walk towards him. You stand in front of him, hands twitching and rumpling the fabric of his cloak. Nervous, Aemond thinks, and smiles a little. You are a twitchy thing. It makes him feel better about his nerves when faced with such a pretty woman.

“Do you think, perhaps, your witch mended the bridge between us?” Boldly, his hand goes to your waist once again. You do not fight his grip. Instead, you lean into it. Aemond brushes his thumb softly near your ribs, making you shiver.

He understands now why Aegon likes women so much. Your body is soft, and you go pliant in the most delicious way. You don't feel threatening, either, like the whores at that godawful brothel. Aemond is clearly the one in control, and he delights in it.

“Bridge?” You say, swaying a little. It might be the exhaustion he detected in you earlier, or you might be made weak by his touch. Aemond finds it interesting regardless.

“The distance. If you are meant for me…” He doesn't finish the thought, but he caresses your waist again, this time moving possessively to your hip. You are so soft, wearing his cloak and smelling of him. So vulnerable and small, despite how smart you are. How could you not be meant for him?

“Dubious.” You frown, and Aemond does not like that answer, so he jerks you slightly forward. You stumble into him, between his spread legs. “Hey!”

Aemond ignores your protest, pulling you in until he has you nearly on his lap. You struggle, but quickly fold, letting him do as he pleases. He wonders if you would let him pull you until you are sitting on his thigh, but does not dare try.

“This is not normal, in my world.” It's far-fetched, even in a world with dragons. Aemond knows magic exists, but he has never seen such a powerful display. A spell so powerful to bring him to another world, just using herbs and candles? It sounds unbelievable. He has always been a rational man, a calculating one. But there is something in his gut telling him that you speak truth.

“I realize.” You place a hand on his shoulder, steadying yourself. This time, he does pull you to sit on his lap. If Aemond were not paying so much attention to your face, he would miss it. This close, though, he notices how your eyes flutter closed in delight at the touch. It only lasts a brief moment, but Aemond can tell how much you like it.

He wonders if you are like him. Lonely and unused to touching another for the sheer pleasure of it all. He feels strange. Never before has Aemond felt such a strong urge to touch a woman, much less one he barely knows. Yet, there is something about you that makes him feel like throwing rationality out of the window.

The smell of your hair is intoxicating. He can't help himself, he has to take a deep breath of it. Gods, you smell good enough to eat.

“Do you think we were destined to meet?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Aemond knows he has ruined it. Your body tenses up, and you nearly fall off his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist, but you jerk away.

“I have to show you something.” You say, getting up. Whatever it is, it makes you uncomfortable. It's all over the tense line of your shoulders, the furrow of your eyebrows.

You take a small artifact from one of your many tables. It's a slim rectangle that lights up when you touch it. Your thumbs press it at an alarming speed. Noise starts pouring out of it, voices and music.

“… AT JUST 9 DOLLARS AND 99 CENTS…”

Aemond scrambles back on your love seat, scared by the sudden onslaught on his senses. You do not seem worried, though, merely making an annoyed face.

“Here.” You say, as you do something with your artifact and turn it to face him. It displays a storm. Aemond pays close attention to it, fascinated by the fact you seem to own a pocket sized window.

Then, he sees something he recognizes. It's Vhagar's body, she is flying somewhere. His eyes leave the artifact to meet yours in disbelief. You purse your lips and gesture for him to keep looking. Your face is oddly anxious, and your hands keep squeezing his cloak.

Aemond focus back on the device. He sees himself, chasing his nephew. He sees Vhagar opening her mouth and… Aemond throws your artifact against the wall, getting up in a hurry. He is filled with rage, stalking towards you.

You move back, as if sensing the danger in the room. Aemond grasps you by the arm, his grip so punishing your skin goes white under it.

“What sorcery is this?” He snarls, towering over you. You look at him, all big innocent eyes, and it only angers him more. “Huh? What is this, you wench?” Aemond throws you to the love seat, making you fall into it with a yelp.

“It's… I…” You hesitate.

“Answer my question!” He barks at you, making you flinch. You hug your knees to your chest, making yourself smaller. He regrets handling you so roughly immediately, and tries to smooth you over, running his hands over your arms. You slap his hands away.

“Your future.” You finally speak, face dropping into a sad frown. Your voice is barely a whisper. “It's your future.”

Upon hearing it, Aemond feels like he is losing his mind. He has always known his anger is destructive, but had never truly grasped the bounds of it. His mouth hangs open.

Turning into a kinslayer is turning into the most accursed man in Westeros. Killing his own blood is a crime that not even the most dishonorable common criminal would dare to attempt. It is something only the truly wretched are capable of.

For someone so smart, Aemond can surely be foolish. How could he let himself be blinded by his anger so? His hate for Lucerys might be strong, but he can't believe he had lost control of Vhagar in such a manner.

By the Seven. What would it mean, for his family, if he did this? War, surely. His mother would never hand him over to the justice Rhaenyra would surely demand, and that refusal would cost them their lives. That, in turn, would cause a war.

A war. Hm. Was it really that wrong, though? There would be a war anyway, once his father passed. There was no way that Rhaenyra was going to take the throne without a fight. Aegon was a much better option to rule the Seven Kingdoms, if only by the fact he was a man.

Women were not made to rule. Just look at you. No matter how smart and educated, you had been reduced to a frightened, quivering little thing after getting screamed at. What prevented from the same being done to Rhaenyra? His uncle had an even worse temper than him, he probably decimated his wife daily. It would be him who truly ruled. And no matter how skilled a swordsman, Daemon was not fit to be King.

“I killed him?” Aemond asks you, eerily calm. His tone is even. It feels as if the words are coming from someone's else mouth.

You shrink more into your seat.

“You did.” You say, quiet as a mouse.

Aemond could not help but feel the smallest satisfaction over it. Lucerys had it coming. He had ruined Aemond's life, after all. And not only had he taken his eye, but he was also a bastard. Bastards were put to the sword, everyone knew that. Aemond had just accelerated the inevitable.

It had been a matter of time. Truly. His lips curl into a smirk.

“Good.” He answers, with a viciousness that surprises even him. “Good.”

“I do not think…” You start saying, in a brave attempt for such an easily frightened little thing. Aemond brushes your hair back from your face. Your next words die in your throat.

You tremble. Poor thing that you were, all tangled up in morality. You surely read too much philosophy books, it got you all confused. It didn't matter. All theories crumbled after their first brush with reality. You would learn.

“You will learn.” Aemond sits down next to you, pulling you for a hug. “You are mine, after all.”

You struggle. He squeezes you slightly harder, and you go limp.

“You are my woman now.” Aemond explains, patiently. He is willing to teach you when the two of you go back to Red Keep. But not before he gets as much useful information as he can extract out of your pretty little head. “And you need to be good to me.”

He kisses your temple. You look up at him, eyes all shy. Aemond leans down and kisses you. You are terribly pale, lips barely moving against his.

“You are never letting me go.” You say, as if in a daze. Aemond smirks. It is a show of your intellect, that you realize all on your own that you have doomed yourself.

“Of course not, wife. You are all I need.”

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Well since you said it…

Ponyboy Curtis head canons and, if possible, cherry head canons 😁

I'll do Cherry later this weekend, but for now here's some Ponyboy headcanons!

-Has tried to quit smoking multiple times, usually because Darry wants him to, and never succeeded. The second he gets even the tiniest bit stressed he’s got a cigarette lit and back in his mouth. At this point he's pretty much accepted he's locked in for life

-Had to get glasses and HATES them so Darry pulled some overtime and got him contacts

-Worries a lot about Darry, not just because he tries to carry too much roofing at once and regularly hurts his back, but also because he’s terrified of what could happen if Darry was to somehow slip off a roof

-His middle class school friends think he’s REALLY cool (like Pony, they’re all a bunch of nerds) and Pony loves it because the entire gang very much does not

-His school friends are also TERRIFIED of the gang, like they see Two-bit or Steve coming to talk to him and hightail it out of there. They’re even scared of Johnny which Ponyboy thinks is hilarious (he doesn’t realize that Johnny’s dark gaze and bruises are terrifying to someone who doesn’t know how he got them)

-Thinks Curly Shepard is the funniest person alive and is determined that Curly never find that out

-Cannot for the life of him figure out why Johnny and Curly don’t get along

-Tutored Two-bit in English so he could finally graduate

-The gang is split between those who are determined to be a good influence on Pony and those who aren’t. Dally and Two-bit are the bad influences, Johnny tries to be a good influence, and Steve claims to not give a fuck but is the best influence of all in that he’s never let/asked/encouraged Pony to take part in illegal activities 

-Pony thinks Curly Shepard is good looking in a dangerous way. Real good looking in fact.

-Is NOT afraid of girls no matter what that Johnny Cade says (I mean it man I ain’t SCARED of them, they just don think like us, and quit you’re laughing, it ain’t like you have any luck with girls either-)

-Is TERRIFIED of Tim Shepard 

-Is also terrified of Angela Shepard because even though she has the same eyes as Curly, her's are like a snakes, all cold, emotionless and deadly, whereas Curly’s are always twinkling with ether mischief or anger

-He’s actually really good at stealing things (Two-bit taught him well), he just doesn’t do it often because he feels bad about it. But if a shop employee is rude to him he’s no holds barred and could leave with like half the store under his coat

-Can get away with literally ANYTHING in his English class after he gave Mr. Simes his theme, and uses that fact to his advantage

-Regularly falls asleep in his math class but manages to talk his teacher out of calling Darry every time

-He and Darry have the same taste in literature and regularly share/discuss books. It bores Soda to the point where he jokingly tells them to go back to arguing all the time because it was at least more entertaining to listen to

-Steps on peoples heels when he walks behind them

-HATES country music so fucking much and if Johnny plays that goddamn country record ONE more time-

-Is determined to make sure neither of his older brothers find our just how much time he spends with Curly Shepard

-Cut the blond out of his hair as soon as he possibly could, even though it made his hair shorter than he liked because he hated the light colour more than he hated the short length

-Has the worst poker face known to man but is actually decent at poker (because he cheats, but unlike Sodapop he’s good at cheating so he rarely gets caught)

[sequinsmile-x]

Edges of Your Soul

She blows out a slow breath, desperate to try and calm her nerves, to try to quiet the voice in her head that had been berating her since she first realised she might be pregnant, a repetition of how can you be so stupid to be here again less than a decade after the first time getting louder with each passing second. 

A Young Hotchniss AU

-x-

Hi friends,

I always get requests for pregnant Young Hotchniss, and I posted this Instagram series telling that story just over a week ago, and it went down so well I knew I had to write a fic to go with it.

As always, this got away from me massively and got very long. Just a note that this is pretty canon divergent so I could use characters we know and love <3

I really hope you enjoy it, and cannot wait to know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 9.1k (it really really got away)

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, mentions of abortion, references to miscarriage

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Fuck.” 

She brings her hand to her face, half capturing the curse as she covers her mouth, her fingers shaking as they press against her lips. She picks up the pregnancy test with her other hand, lifting it so she can have a closer look, staring it down as if the pink plus sign looking back at her would change. Her stomach rolls and she drops the test, the plastic clamouring against the sink as she grips the edge of the counter. She blows out a slow breath, desperate to try and calm her nerves, to try to quiet the voice in her head that had been berating her since she first realised she might be pregnant, a repetition of how can you be so stupid to be here again less than a decade after the first time getting louder with each passing second. 

She jumps at the knock on the door, her best friend and roommate’s voice partially muffled by the thick wood, “Emily? Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.” 

She blows out a breath again and picks up the test, unlocking the door and shoving the test into JJ’s hands at the same time, walking past her so she doesn’t have to see her face when she finds out, “It’s positive.” 

It’s silent as Emily flops down onto the couch and grabs a cushion, holding it tight against her abdomen as she tries to breathe. JJ walks over and joins her on the couch, making a point of not touching her and giving her as much space as she can, “How do we feel about this? Are we excited? Or considering exercising our right to choose?” 

Emily huffs out a desperate laugh, nothing short of furious at herself for the tears that flood her eyes, her vision blurry as she looks at her friend, “I…I don’t know.” 

Last time, it had been clear-cut. No matter how scared she’d been, how terrified the prospect that any of it had made her, she knew she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet. She had only been 15. A kid herself faced with making choices she’d even then were difficult for adults to make. Matthew had helped her, he’d held her hand as he tried to fix what another boy had broken, but she’d still felt alone. Left to deal with the consequences of what had been nothing more than a fumble in the back of John’s parent’s car one evening. A few minutes that had changed everything. 

This time she didn’t know what she wanted. She had a boyfriend. A loving man who was good and kind and nothing but wonderful to her. It made it more complicated, the thought that this would be where they would probably head one day anyway, even if when she had let herself think about a future with him kids had been far far down the line. 

“Aaron is a good guy, Em,” JJ says, as if she’d been able to read her mind, “You should talk to him about it.” 

She scoffs and wipes tears away as they slip past her lashline, “His ex-fiance broke up with him because she wanted kids and he wanted to wait.” 

When they met he was heartbroken, a sad edge to his professionalism as he worked at her mother’s estate that had intrigued her and drawn her in. At first, he was merely something that had piqued her interest. He was younger than the rest of her mother’s security staff, but did his best to fit in by being overly serious. His frown aged him, and his slightly poorly fitting suit gave away that he didn’t quite belong in the place he’d found himself. 

It was only when she got to know him, a friendship he’d often joked since that she’d somewhat forced on him by sitting in his office all day and asking him questions, that the draw towards him became more than just giving her something to do in her summer between her undergrad and her master's degree. For someone in their late 20’s, he’d already achieved a lot. He’d graduated from Harvard Law School, had worked as a prosecutor for a couple of years until he pivoted to private security with the hope of joining the FBI. When she asked him why he’d made the change, she’d expected some bullshit answer about wanting to nip the crimes he’d been prosecuting in the bud, to help stop them at the source, but instead, he said he’d done it for his ex. That it had been a last-ditch attempt to salvage his relationship with his high school sweetheart, but that it had been a wasted effort in the end, that they’d broken up anyway when they continued to argue about fundamental things. Emily had apologised, her cheeks burning as she worried she’d upset him, something she wondered why she cared so much about, but he’d waved it off, his smile soft as he told her it was fine. 

Not long after that, things shifted between them, their friendship moving into more one night when she kissed him. They’d agreed that it would just be a summer thing, that her move to Yale would signal the end of whatever this was, and looking back on it she knew they were both lying - more to themselves than to each other - if they truly thought this thing between them could ever just be sex. 

They made long-distance work. He came to visit her as much as he could and she went to DC to visit him whenever she could. She hated it, hated that he wasn’t as close as he had been during those fleeting months over the summer, but she was getting used to it and she knew he was too. She was happy for the first time in as long as she could remember, excelling in her classes and surrounded by good people for once, and then she started to feel nauseous. A familiar exhaustion started to sink into her bones that made her wonder if her Labour Day Weekend with Aaron had left her with more than the memories of three days alone with him. 

“Emily,” JJ says, drawing her out of herself, her expression firm and her touch on Emily’s arm kind, “Whatever you choose to do you need to talk to him,” she smiles, “You two love each other - it’s kind of disgusting actually,” she laughs when Emily chuckles, pleased with herself for pulling it out of her, “Talk to him. And if he’s a dick about it, which I don’t think he will be, I’ll drive down to DC and egg his car for you.” 

Emily laughs again, full-bodied this time, and she sighs, a little bit of the tension in her chest easing, “You’re right,” she says, leaning into her friend's side, grateful for the hug she immediately provides her, “I’ll talk to him. But I might go down for the weekend,” she scrunches her nose up, “I don’t want to tell him over the phone.” 

She calls him when she goes to her room that night, grateful for a couple of hours with JJ where they’d drank mocktails made out of whatever sodas they’d had in the fridge, their trusty bottle of tequila untouched for once, and she can feel her heart in her throat when she calls him, a picture of the two of them staring at her from her nightstand. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, answering on the first ring, “I was just about to call you.” 

She smiles, curling up on her bed, wishing she was with him, “Great minds think alike,” she quips, her stomach churning with nerves, “Do you have any plans this weekend?” 

“No,” he replies, “Dave said he’ll make sure we don’t have any cases. Whatever that means.” 

She chuckles, “I was thinking…I might come down and see you.” 

“I’d love that,” he says, his reply immediate, “I miss you.” 

She presses her lips together, tears she thinks she might have to get used to flooding her eyes, “I miss you too.” 

“Are you okay, Em?” He asks, and for a moment she hates that he’s so intuitive, a skill that had quickly earned him a place on the BAU unit at the FBI shortly after he passed out from the academy. She clears her throat and nods even though he can’t see her. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she assures him, swallowing thickly against the lie, “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow. I’ll be with you by lunchtime.” 

“Okay,” he replies, clearly not entirely believing her, “I’ll make sure I have all your favourites in. Including that awful beer you like.” 

She chokes on a laugh, her hand drifting to her stomach as if on autopilot, “You’re sweet.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” 

She closes her eyes and wipes away a tear that falls as she does so, “I’m sure,” she says, “Now tell me about work.” 

She listens as he tells her about the case he is working on, guilt for the fact she was about to change the landscape of his life bitter on her tongue until they eventually hang up, the promise that they’d see each other tomorrow ringing in her ears until she falls asleep.

___

The next morning, it’s all a little clearer. 

The drive to DC gives her time to think, the music she’d agonised over choosing for the journey barely registering as she considers the two futures she has in front of her, wanting to make sure she felt a little more on steady ground before she spoke to Aaron. 

She wanted to do this. 

It was something she’d somehow woken up knowing. Forced out of bed by nausea that sent her running to the toilet, spitting into it as she thought to herself that she hoped this only lasted for the first trimester. A done deal that she’d be pregnant long enough to find out something that her subconscious had seemingly decided for her. The closer she got to Aaron’s apartment, the more sure she was, her hand low on her belly as she thought about the fact it wouldn’t be easy, that she was still in college for fucks sake, but that she wanted this baby. That this time she could do it and, no matter what Aaron said, she would do it. 

For the first time ever, she’s nervous when she knocks on his front door, part of her worried this would be the last time she’d do this, that he’d want nothing to do with her or the baby. It disappears the moment she sees him, his lips against hers as he scoops her up into his arms, his arms tight around her as he turns them, placing her back down onto the floor in his apartment. 

“Hi,” he says, kissing her again, “You made good time.” 

“Hi,” She hums, dropping her bag to the floor so she can wrap her arms around his neck, “I was up early so I just left as soon as I was ready.” 

He kisses her, his hands firm on her lower back to hold her in place as he pulls back to look at her, “I got started on brunch,” he says, “All that’s left to do is cook the eggs and it will be ready.” 

Her stomach lurches before she can even tell herself to not think about eggs, or the smell of them, and she wrenches himself from his embrace and runs to the bathroom, making it just in time as she throws up into the toilet. He’s behind her in a second, one hand on her back and the other holding her hair back. 

“You’re okay, Em,” he says, rubbing her back, “You’re okay,” she grunts as she sits back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaning against the bathroom wall as he reaches over her to flush the toilet, “Do you want some water?”

She nods, unable to speak yet, and he smiles softly before he leaves the room. He’s gone for less than a minute, returning with a glass of ice water and a kind smile as he sits on the floor next to her. She takes a sip and clears her throat, “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologise, sweetheart,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together with concern, “Are you okay? Are you sick? I could go to the pharmacy-”

“I’m not sick,” she assures him, cursing her stomach and her sudden aversion to most food she usually enjoys for putting her in this situation, for forcing her to make this admission sitting on his bathroom floor, “I’m pregnant,” she says, her lips pressed together as his eyes go wide and he clears his throat, making a conscious effort to school his features, “That’s why I wanted to come to see you, so I could tell you.” 

“Oh,” he says, “When did you find out?” 

“Yesterday,” she replies, “I had a feeling…” she sighs, and shakes her head, “So I bought a test and it was positive,” she says, watching as he opens his mouth to say something else, but she cuts him off, “Is it okay if I brush my teeth and we go sit somewhere else to have this conversation?” She asks, her smile wry, “When I practised this on the drive here this isn’t exactly how I pictured it.” 

He smiles and nods, standing up before her and offering her a hand, “I got a toothbrush for you to keep here,” he says, nodding towards the counter, “I’ll meet you in the living room.” 

He stares at her for a beat longer than usual, his eyes drifting down to her belly before he leaves, and she blows out a slow breath the moment she’s alone. She makes quick work of brushing her teeth, relieved that the taste of the mint toothpaste seems to settle her stomach rather than make it worse, and she steps out into the apartment, smiling softly when she sees her bag neatly placed on the kitchen counter. 

“I have some ginger ale,” Aaron says, drawing her attention to where he’s sitting in the living room, a can of the drink on the side table next to her usual spot on his couch, “I thought it might help.” 

His kindness makes her ache, love for him filling her lungs as she smiles and sits down next to him, leaving more space between them than she usually would, “I’m sorry that’s how you found out,” she says, wringing her hands together on her lap, “I was going to sit you down and tell you everything…but then you mentioned eggs and the morning sickness kicked in,” she shivers in disgust, “Which is the most poorly named thing ever by the way, I’ve been throwing up all hours of the day.” 

He smiles, his hands tight in his lap so he doesn’t reach out for her, wanting to follow her lead, “How long have you thought you might be pregnant?” 

“A couple of days,” she admits, shrugging one of her shoulders, “I was sick and I felt…awful,” she grimaces, “And I felt like I’d run a marathon after every class I went to. Then it clicked in my head and I couldn’t think about anything else.”

“You could have told me,” he says and she smiles at him, “I could have been there with you.” 

“I even made JJ wait on the other side of the door whilst I peed on the stick, honey,” she says, her smile wry, “If I’m not peeing in front of her I’m not peeing in front of you.” 

He laughs, the sound ragged as it catches in his chest, “Good to know,” he jokes, clearing his throat before he carries on, “Do you know what you want to do?” 

It was an inevitable question, she knows that, but it still makes anxiety swirl in her gut because she knew this was it. The defining moment of her relationship with him.  

“Yeah, I do,” she says, holding her own hand tightly so she doesn’t press her hand against her belly, “I know we haven’t been together long,” she says, swallowing down the thought that the five months she’d been with him were among some of the best of her life, “So I’m giving you an out.” 

“An out?” He asks, his brows knitting together as he tilts his head at her. 

“It’s up to you if you want to be involved,” she says, looking down at her hands, “But I’m doing this.” 

It must only be a matter of seconds until he responds, but it feels like an age, two paths of what the rest of her life could look like mapping out in front of her, “Of course, I want to be involved,” he says, and she looks up so quickly her neck pulls, the pain barely registering as she furrows her brow. 

“Really?” 

He smiles and reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing, desperate to try and press some reassurance into her skin, “Really. I love you, Emily. And if you’d wanted to not carry on with the pregnancy I’d have held your hand the entire time, but if you want this I do too, and we’ll do this together.” 

She finally lets herself sink into him, his embrace warm and comforting as he wraps his arms around her, “I love you too.” 

He kisses the top of her head, “I should make you something to eat,” he says, pulling back to look at her, “I’m assuming eggs are off the menu for a while?” 

She grimaces and buries her face in his neck, letting the smell of him overwhelm any kind of growing nausea, “They might be permanently off of it.” 

___

When she heads back to New Haven only a day later, she feels lighter. They talked about everything all night, barely getting any sleep as they lay there, both their hands on her still flat stomach as they spoke about the future. They knew they still had to do long distance for a while until she finished college and whilst it wasn’t perfect, that they both wanted to be with each other more than ever, they knew they could make it work.

He comes up to visit for her first doctor’s appointment, his hand tight around hers as the doctor shows them their baby on the ultrasound screen, everything suddenly so much more real for her when she saw the tiny, life-changing, image in front of her. They jokingly start calling the baby Bean because that’s what it looks like in the pictures they have printed. The doctor confirms that she’s got her dates right, that she’s as far long as she thinks she is, and Emily laments that it means she’ll be very pregnant when she graduates and that it will make dress shopping for the occasion so much harder. 

They do make the distance work for about a month, only arguing once when he clumsily attempts to propose, something she turns down because she doesn’t think having a baby is a reason to get married yet. He’s hurt, she knows that, but he understands, his love for her, for them, in no way diminished by her no that he understands is really a not yet. The distance works, but she hates it, and she starts to look into transferring to Georgetown for her next semester, not wanting to go through any more of this without him by her side. 

The tentative happiness she’d built up around herself comes crashing down around her when she wakes up only a couple hours after falling asleep, pain burning in her back and blood on her thighs and bed sheets. She doesn’t remember calling out for JJ, or her friend helping her into clean sweatpants and then into her car. She doesn’t remember calling Aaron, tears streaming down her face as she choked out that something was wrong, a phone call JJ took over for her when she became a little too hysterical for Aaron to understand. Everything is a blur until she speaks to a kind-eyed doctor who performs an ultrasound and tells her everything is okay, his smile patient as he points at the baby on the screen and plays Emily the heartbeat, using words like subchorionic hematoma like they meant anything to her whilst he explains what has happened. 

The doctor admits her to the hospital, assuring her that it was just for the night so they could monitor her and the baby, and she willfully agrees - wanting to make sure she is in the best place in case anything else happens. She tries to send JJ home but she refuses, steadfastly sitting by her bed as she keeps her company for hours until there’s a knock on the door. The relief she feels when she sees Aaron come into view as the door opens is palpable. 

“Em,” he chokes out, his eyes almost as wild as his hair, a sure sign he’d made no attempt to tidy himself up after her call pulled him out of bed, the fact he was still wearing his pjyamas - a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - only confirming her theory, “Are you okay? Is the baby…” he trails off as he makes it to her side, pulling her into a fierce hug as he sits on the edge of her bed. 

“We’re okay,” Emily assures him, holding him back just as tightly, gripping the back of his t-shirt with so much force she’s surprised it doesn’t rip, “We’re both okay.” She knows he wants to ask more questions, but they lapse into silence, content to seek out the comfort they’d wanted from each other for hours. 

“I should get going,” JJ says as she stands up, her soft voice reminding the couple they weren’t alone. She smiles at Emily when she pulls back just enough from Aaron to look at her, her tight grip on her boyfriend obvious even where JJ is standing, “Let me know if you need me to bring you anything when you get discharged.” 

Emily nods, her smile shaking, “Thanks JJ.”

Aaron looks at her too, “Thanks for looking after her until I could get here.” 

“Anytime,” she replies, “Although, I hope we don’t have to do this again.”

The moment they are alone Emily sinks into his embrace again, her cheek against his shoulder as he holds her close. He kisses the side of her head and she feels his chest shudder, “Em…what happened?” He asks, squeezing her tighter, “JJ told me some of it, but on the phone you…” he swallows thickly, “I’ve never heard you sound like that. You were terrified.” 

She blows out a shaky breath and pulls back to look at him, her eyes searching his as she runs her fingers through his hair to try to flatten it, “I woke up and had some back pain. It felt like…” she presses her lips together, “It felt like before.” 

She’d told him all about Rome a few weeks ago. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because she wanted to. She wanted to share that part of herself with him, to let him know just how much it meant to her that he had been so perfect throughout all of this. He’d been understanding, because of course he was, and told her how she was the bravest person he knew. Something she was sure was bullshit given that he was in the FBI, but it was a badge she’d wear with honour. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, not needing her to say anymore to understand what she thought was happening, that she’d feared the same thing he’d spent the entire drive here thinking about. He reaches out to wipe a tear from her cheek and she leans into his palm. 

“Then I realised I was bleeding,” she blows out a shaky breath, “I called out for JJ, I think I must have scared the shit out of her,” she chuckles humourlessly, “She was only out in the living room studying so she was in my room in a second. She brought me here, they showed me the baby and told me it’s okay,” she scrunches up her nose as she thinks about it, how she’s sure she barely made sense when she cried down the phone to him, “I’m sorry that I scared you.” 

“Sweetheart, no,” he says, pressing his forehead against hers, “You have nothing to apologise for. I’m glad you’re both okay,” he says, a hand on each of her cheeks as he pulls back, “What did they say?”

She sniffs, “I have something called a subchorionic hematoma. It should sort itself out but I’ll have another scan in a week to make sure everything is still okay,” she disconnects herself from him and reaches for the pictures on the nightstand, “They printed me some pictures,” she says, passing him one of them, “Bean doesn’t look much like a bean anymore.”

He smiles in relief when he looks at it, the baby actually looking like a baby this time, “Look at that,” he chokes out, clearing his throat, “Bean looks like you already,” his smile eases a little when she chuckles, and he reaches for her hand, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says, kissing his cheek, “It’s what we agreed we’d do,” she kisses him to stop him from saying anything else, not wanting to get into logistics right now, “Come here and snuggle with us,” she says, smiling softly before she kisses him again, “We can talk about the rest later okay?” She asks and nods, not arguing for a second before he slips off his shoes, frowning as he looks down at them, “What’s wrong honey?” 

He shakes his head at himself as he stands up to encourage her to move enough to let him slip into bed with her, “I put on odd shoes.” 

She laughs and looks down at the floor, one brown and one black shoe looking back at her, and she laughs harder, shaking her head at him as she sinks against him once he’s under the covers with her. She grabs his hand and rests it on her belly, her bump still practically non-existent, only noticeable to the two of them, “Did you hear that Bean?” She asks, her voice shaking as all the emotions from the last several hours catch up with her, “Daddy rushed to see us so quickly he put on odd shoes.” 

He kisses the top of her head and holds her close, running his hand up and down her arm, he hears her sniff, feels her warm tears against his skin as she presses her face into his neck, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“I just…” she chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “I don’t think I realised how much I wanted this until I thought I might lose it.” 

He holds her closer, making sure she’s gathered against him, “I know baby,” he says, cupping the back of her head, scratching lightly at her scalp, “I know. But we haven’t lost anything. We’re all still right here.” 

She nods, sucking in a deep breath as he tries to calm her down, talking to her about anything and everything until she finally falls asleep against him. She’d discharged a few hours later, sent home with instructions to be on bed rest until her appointment the following week, the beat of irritation she feels calmed by the embarrassed look on Aaron’s face when the doctor tells them no sex in that time. She’s settled into her bed, gratitude she thinks she might drown in when she realises JJ had changed her sheets for her, when Aaron walks in, still wearing the clothes he’d rushed to her in, his cell phone in his hands. 

“I spoke to Dave,” he says, walking over to join her on the bed, “I’m staying here until your appointment next week,” he smiles when she tries to interject, “There’s no point in arguing, I think if I hadn’t suggested it when I explained everything he would have fired me.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, “Does he even have the power to do that?” 

He chuckles, “I think he likes to think he does,” he reaches for her hand and squeezes it, “I’ve been thinking about work. I’m going to take a leave of absence-”

She sighs, “Aaron, honey-”

“I don’t want to be apart from you. Either of you,” he says, cutting off her interruption, “That phone call was…terrifying, Em. I drove here not knowing if either of you were okay,” he says, as firm as he ever was with her, and he presses his lips together as he shakes his head, “I want to be here for you. For all of it.” 

She stares at him, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, “I spoke to my professors a few days ago,” she admits, “I’m planning on transferring to Georgetown next semester.” 

He frowns, “No, you love Yale. You worked so hard to get here-”

“I love you and Bean more,” she says, linking their hands together, “And you love your job. It makes more sense for me to do this. We’d always end up back in DC in the long run.” She explains, sure of her decision, and he sighs, squeezing her hand as he searches her face for any sign that she’s lying, “Hey, don’t profile me. You know me, honey. I can’t be made to do anything I don’t want to do.” 

He smiles, nodding as he shifts closer, his lips stamped against hers for a moment, “As long as you’re sure.” 

“I am,” she replies, kissing him again, “As long as you’re ready for a roommate,” she smiles, “Or two.” 

His smile gets wider, his dimples carved out in his cheeks and he nods, “There’s nothing I’d want more,” he says, kissing her firmly, tugging her closely so she’s all but sitting in his lap, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

He rests his cheek on top of her head, and she can feel his smile, “Is it still too early to propose?”

She shakes her head and pinches his side, “Aaron.” 

___

Dinner with her mother had been her idea, but the moment they arrive she regrets it. What was supposed to be an evening with just her, her mother and Aaron had turned into much more than that. Elizabeth had invited several of her friends too, and Emily felt her plans to tell her mother about her transfer to Georgetown and her pregnancy slipping away from her. It makes her grateful that it’s winter and she’s wearing a stylish but baggy sweater, her now undeniable bump hidden from view. 

She has to bite back several comments as her mother continually makes a point of explaining to her friends that Aaron had worked for her the previous summer and that was how he and Emily had met. She also makes a point of saying that Aaron had just turned 30, the reason Emily was actually in town, as if the age gap, half the size of the one she and Emily’s father had shared, would bother Elizabeth if he was one of the many men she’d tried to set Emily up with over the last couple of years. 

As the evening whittles down, Elizabeth’s friends leaving one by one, Emily feels tense, Aaron’s arm around the back of her chair doing nothing to calm her calm her down. 

“I just realised I never asked about how things are going at Yale,” Elizabeth says as she sits back down, taking her place opposite them at the table even though it was just the three of them left, “How are you finding the programme?”

“It’s good,” Emily says, smiling tightly, her hand on Aaron’s leg under the table, “Finals are next week but I’m managing,” she looks up at Aaron and he smiles encouragingly at her, his hand resting over hers on his knee, “I need to tell you something.” 

Elizabeth purses her lips and looks back and forth between the two of them, “That sounds ominous.” 

“It’s not bad, Mom,” Emily says, blowing out a slow breath, “I’m transferring to Georgetown after this semester is done,” she says, carrying on when Elizabeth just stares at her, “It’s been approved by my professors and I’m registered for classes at Georgetown already.” 

Her mother sighs as she takes a sip of her wine, still looking back and forth between Emily and Aaron, “Why?” She asks, “Yale is an Ivy League college, Emily.” 

“I know,” she replies, irritation starting to spark in her gut, “Georgetown is amazing though, and I wanted to be closer to home.” 

Elizabeth hums, raising her eyebrow, “And I assume you’re going to live with Aaron when you move back.” 

“Yes,” Emily says, her mother’s tone causing her irritation to catch fire, anger burning in her veins, “Considering he’s my boyfriend and the father of my child I thought it would be best if I live with him.” It’s only after she’s spoken, when she feels Aaron’s hand tighten around hers and watches her mother’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead, that she realises what she’s said, “Mom…” 

“You’re pregnant?” 

Emily sighs and nods, “Yes, I am,” she says, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” she adds, “But yes, I am pregnant.” 

They fall into silence and it’s cloying. Thick and overwhelming as it lays over them for a moment before Elizabeth shakes her head, “How could you be so stupid?” 

“What?” Emily exclaims, her anger returning in a second.

“You’re 23, Emily. You have your whole life ahead of you and you go and get yourself pregnant by someone you hardly know.” 

“Now wait a minute-” Aaron says, chiming in to defend her, but Emily cuts him off, squeezing his hand so tightly she’s sure she might cut off the circulation. 

“I didn’t plan this,” she says, suddenly glad she’d kept what happened in Rome to herself, that she’d never told her mother. Sure that if this was her reaction now when she was an adult and in a relationship, it would have been so much worse back then, “But I want this. And I get that it’s a shock, okay? But you don’t get to call me stupid for making this choice.” 

Elizabeth sighs, her jaw tight as she clenches her teeth, and she nods sharply, “You’re right,” she says, clearing her throat, “But I hope you’re prepared for how much a child will change your life. There will be so much you’ll want to do that you now won’t be able to.” 

She swallows down the hurt at her mother all but calling her a burden, something that had negatively changed her life, and she nods, “Mom, I know-”

“But there will also be so much you’ll do that you never would have expected,” she says, her smile wistful in a way Emily rarely saw, “Like take a thousand photos the first time they smile.” 

Emily presses her lips together at that, the flash of her mother’s maternal side rare and painful like it always was, chased by the question of why can’t it always be like this, “We stare at the ultrasound as often as we can,” Emily says, looking up at Aaron, “Don’t we honey.”

“We do,” he replies, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, “We brought one to show you.” 

Elizabeth softens even further when she’s passed the grainy picture of her grandchild, and by the time they leave her house, Emily is more sure than ever that everything is going to work out. 

___

“I’m never going to find anything to wear,” She huffs in frustration as she stands back from the rack of dresses, her hand coming to rest on her bump, soothing a circle back and forth over where her daughter kicked and rolled. She sighs as she throws a look at her boyfriend over her shoulder, “This sucks.” 

Aaron wraps his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest as she leans against him, their hands linked over their little girl, “You’ll find something, sweetheart,” he assures her, steering clear of mentioning it would be easier if she at least looked at the maternity section after he’d learnt his lesson the hard way last time, “Why don’t we go get something to eat and try again after?” He offers, kissing her cheek, “I’ll get you and baby girl a pretzel.”

She hums and smiles, her irritation at not being able to find a dress for her graduation fading a little as she turns her head to kiss him, “You’re really speaking my language right now.” 

He laughs and kisses her as he shifts so he’s standing next to her, his arm hooked over her shoulders, “Which one?” 

She fake laughs and rolls her eyes at him, letting him lead her out of the clothing store they were in and towards the food court, “Very funny.” 

“I thought so.” 

Sometimes it all felt a little too easy. In the five months since she’d moved to DC, she and Aaron had settled into their life together. She’d found new friends in her college classes here, an exuberant woman called Penelope, who had claimed her as a friend the first day she walked into class, was now somehow friends with JJ. The two of them, and Aaron, had conspired to throw her a baby shower - something she’d insisted she didn’t want until she was sat there surrounded by people who cared for her and her daughter, a village she knew she could never have dreamed of when she was 15. 

The apartment that was once Aaron’s was now theirs, and his old spare room was now a nursery for their daughter that they’d decorated together. She was due to graduate in a few days, and she’d put off buying her outfit until the last possible moment so she could find something that fit - her little girl and therefore her bump growing by the day now. She was due in just under a month and now she was done with college she was just focused on having her baby, all thoughts about what she’d do for a career on hold until her little girl was in her arms. 

She knew Aaron was excited too, the look of joy he’d had on his face when they found out they were having a girl something she knew she’d remember forever. Dave told her Aaron talked about her and the baby to anyone who’d listen at work, a rare insight into his personal life he would never have allowed anyone before she’d cracked his tough outer shell. 

“Can I have two pretzels?” She asks, smiling as she looks up at him, “One for me and one for-”

“Aaron?” 

He freezes, his body tense against hers as he turns in the direction the voice had come from. She frowns and turns too, swallowing down a shocked gasp as she comes face to face with a woman she’d only ever seen pictures of.

“Haley,” Aaron says, making a point of not letting go of Emily, his arm still around her, “It’s…good to see you,” he adds, clearly unsure what to say, taken aback by seeing his ex-fiance. Emily thinks it’s likely that however shocked he is, Haley’s shock must be worse, her eyes zeroing in on Emily’s bump. 

She clears her throat and introduces herself, “I’m Emily,” she says, mentally cursing herself when she offers her hand out to the other woman, letting it drop to her side when Haley doesn’t take it.

“Right, sorry,” Aaron says, his hand squeezing her side, “This is Emily, my…my girlfriend,” he looks down at Emily, “This is Haley.” 

She nods, smiling tightly at him, the awkwardness making her skin crawl, the rise in her blood pressure making the baby kick more than usual. She looks back at Haley and notices how she’s still looking at her belly, poorly disguised fury on her face that makes Emily place a hand on her bump, something that seems to draw Haley’s attention away from it and back to their faces. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Emily says, the politeness that had been instilled in her since she was old enough to talk taking over, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Haley chuckles humourlessly, “I’m sure you have,” she says, her smile forced, “So,” she says, pressing her lips together as she looks back and forth between them, “How far along are you?” 

Whatever Emily had expected her to say it hadn’t been that, and she bites the inside of her cheek before she answers, “37 weeks.” 

Aaron sighs, anticipating where his ex was going with this, their last heartbreaking conversation swimming around in his head, “ Haley-”

“Wow,” she chokes out, cutting him off, “That’s…wow,” she looks up at Aaron, “You really didn’t hang around did you?” She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head, anger she thought she’d got over months ago finally flooding to the surface, “We’ve been broken up 13, 14 months? And since then you’ve what?” She looks Emily up and down, clearly trying to clock her age, aware she was younger than the two of them, “Knocked up a college student?”

“Haley, you don’t get to-”

“Oh hell no,” Emily says, cutting off Aaron’s more reasoned response, anger and hormones and love for him flooding through her, “You don’t get to talk to him, or me, like that. You broke up with him,” she says, crossing her arms over the top of her bump, “And your loss is my gain, but you don’t get to stand here outside a fucking clothing store and try and diminish my relationship because things didn’t turn out how you wanted them to,” she turns to look at Aaron, “I’ll leave you to it, I’ll wait for you in the food court.” 

She makes a point of kissing him before she walks away, not proud of herself for the pettiness but unable to stop herself nonetheless. She doesn’t get very far, only halfway to the food court, when Aaron catches up with her, grabbing her attention by calling her name and then jogging to her side, his hand slipping into hers. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, looking back over her shoulder to see if she can still see Haley.

“Buying my girls a pretzel each,” he says, his smile tight, his emotions still all over the place after their brief encounter with his ex. 

“Aaron,” she says, coming to a stop, linking her fingers through his, “I’m sorry I kind of blew up at her, but I really don’t mind if you talk to her. There must be things you want to get off your chest.” 

He shakes his head, “I said everything I needed to say,” he says, his smile turning wry, “Well, you said most of it.” 

She grimaces, embarrassment rushing through her now she’d got over the anger, “I’m so sorry-”

“No, don’t apologise,” she says, lifting their linked hands to his lips, “It’s sweet,” he kisses the back of her hand, “You went into Mama Bear mode.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Call me that again, and you’re not having sex until baby girl is in high school,” she hides a smirk, “Maybe college.” 

“Yes, dear,” he says, kissing her hand again before he lets their hands drop back down, “Now, let's get you that pretzel.”

“Pretzels. Plural.” ___

She was exhausted and sore in ways she hadn’t thought was possible, but so deliriously happy she barely noticed, content and happy in her little bubble with her baby girl asleep on her chest. She strokes patterns over her daughter’s dark hair, smiling as she follows the swirling patterns. 

Ivy Hotchner came into the world on her due date, screaming loudly as she protested being born, something that only quietened down as she was passed into Emily’s shaking hands. Emily knew she could live a hundred years and she’d remember everything about that moment. That first press of her little girl's skin against her own, the weight of her on her chest. The tears shining in Aaron’s eyes as he cut the chord that had connected them for 9 months. 

“Daddy will be back in a minute, sweet girl,” Emily says quietly, kissing the top of Ivy’s head, “He’s gone to call grandma and all your friends,” she runs her knuckles back and forth over her daughter’s soft cheek, “You have so many people in your corner, Ivy.” 

There’s a quick knock on the door and when she looks up Aaron walks in, his shoulders as relaxed as she’d ever seen them as he slips his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, “How are my girls doing?” 

“We’re good,” she says, looking back down at her baby, “Right, Ivy?” She smiles at Aaron as he gets into the bed with them, helping her move forward just enough that he can slip in behind her, his chest supporting her back, just like it had her entire labour, as she lays against him, “Did you speak to my mom?”

He hums, his lips against her temple as he looks down at Ivy, “I did, I told her we’d let her know when you’re up for visitors,” he says, smiling as she turns her head to look at him, “And I spoke to Penelope and JJ, they both demanded pictures as soon as we can send them.”

She chuckles, “I got a cute one of you kissing her cheek when she was laying in the bassinet,” she says, scrunching her nose up, “Might take a few days to get a cute one of me.” 

“You're beautiful,” he says, kissing her when she rolls her eyes, “I mean it. Both of you are beautiful.” 

She chuckles disbelievingly, “She is, I’ll give you that,” she says, turning her attention back to their daughter, “I can’t believe she’s here. We’ve been planning and planning for months and now she’s just…here.” 

She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put into words how it felt. How she and Aaron’s relationship had grown alongside her belly, blooming as their daughter did beneath her skin. She knew they weren’t together because of Ivy, but she knew their little girl had made them closer, tangling them together like vines as they learnt everything there was to learn about the other, so much a part of each other now she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. It was part of why they’d chosen the name they had, an acknowledgement that they were who they were now because of the baby they both couldn’t imagine life without. 

“Me neither,” he says, kissing her shoulder before he rests his chin on it, his gaze fixed on their little girl, “She’s…real,” he says, and she laughs at him, her lips against his cheek when they flame with embarrassment, “You know what I mean,” he mutters, “She was inside of you kicking up a storm and all of a sudden she’s here.” 

“As the person she tunnelled out of I wouldn’t say all of a sudden,” she quips, kissing his cheek again before she looks back down at Ivy, “But I know what you mean,” she rests her head against his, “Aaron?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m so glad you came to visit that Labour Day Weekend and knocked me up.” 

He chuckles, kissing her cheek, smiling when she turns her head to capture his lips in a kiss, “Me too,” he says, kissing her again. They lapse into contented silence, the only sounds in the room the small noises Ivy made in her sleep, and when he eventually speaks, it takes a moment for his words to register, “Can I propose to you yet?” 

She laughs, and Ivy squirms against her for a moment before she settles back down, and then Emily turns to look at him, “Not yet,” she replies, her smile soft and full of love, “Not whilst I’m wearing a diaper.” 

He nods, aware she wouldn’t have said yes right now anyway, and he holds his girls close, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

___

One Year Later 

“Did you have a good birthday, Ivy?” Emily asks, bouncing her daughter on her hip, smiling when the little girl beams at her, her tiny hands hooked in the neckline of her mother’s shirt, “Did you have fun with all your friends?” 

It never failed to make her happy when she thought about all the people Ivy had in her life. Their home had been full of family and friends. Penelope had baked Ivy’s birthday cake, and JJ had shown up with arms full of toys. Emily and Aaron’s friends from work had come too, and something about watching FBI agents being bossed around by a one-year-old as they played on the floor with her had made Emily laugh. 

Even her mother had been caught up in the festivities, crawling into the playhouse she’d bought her granddaughter, any doubt she’d had about Emily’s choices gone the very first moment she’d ever held Ivy. 

Ivy grumbles, pressing her face against Emily’s chest, “Mama!” 

Emily hums, rubbing her hand back and forth on her daughter’s back, “I know, sweet girl,” she coos, “I’m always sleepy after a party too.” 

“That’s because you’ve usually had tequila.” 

She turns and looks at her boyfriend, unable to hide her smile as she narrows her eyes at him where he is standing in the doorway to the nursery, “That’s a lot of talk for a man who Derek and Dave had to carry up to our bedroom a few weeks ago after a night out.” 

He smiles and walks towards her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then Ivy’s, “Is she okay?” 

Emily nods, walking the short distance to the small loveseat they kept in the nursery, “She’s just sleepy,” she says, sitting down and keeping Ivy secure against her, “I don’t think we’ll have the usual bedtime fight tonight.” 

He sits next to them, his arm looping around Emily’s shoulders as she continues to rub circles on their daughter’s back, “I can’t believe she’s one.” 

“Me neither,” Emily says, the closest she ever comes to pouting, “She’s growing up too fast.” 

She wanted more children with him, she knew that, but she wanted to wait. She’d joined the FBI academy when Ivy was six months old, the desire to start her career too strong to ignore any longer. Once she’d passed out from the academy she’d joined the counterterrorism unit, only one floor below the BAU, where she did translation work. It was a start, a good place for her to grow her career from and she was happy with it. They had time to have more kids, something she’d told Aaron when he asked if she wanted more. She really liked the thought of doing it all again a few years down the line, a decision she’d make next time instead of being one she’d fall into, Aaron and Ivy by her side as they grew their family. 

Right now, she was content. She had Aaron, and their little girl. The house they’d just recently moved into. A career she was proud of already and friends she wasn’t sure she could live without. 

“She’s asleep,” Aaron says, and she looks down, smiling at the sight of Ivy fast asleep, “Want me to take her?” 

She nods, kissing Ivy’s head, whispering her love for her against her skin, before Aaron lifts her from her chest. She watches as he says goodnight to Ivy, holding her with such reverence it makes her ache, and they walk out of the nursery hand in hand, the baby monitor picked up by Aaron as he walks past. 

“What shall we do for dinner?” She asks as they head for the stairs, “I’d say cake, we have enough of it, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I’ve organised dinner,” he says, an unreadable expression on his face, a spark in his eyes that makes her stomach flip. She presses her lips together and smiles, letting him guide her downstairs.

“What are you up to, Mr Hotchner?” 

“Do you trust me?” He asks when they get to the bottom of the stairs and she nods, only partially surprised when he covers her eyes.

She huffs out a breath as he leads her towards the living room, “Aaron, I swear to god if this is some kind of ploy into getting me to help tidy up…”

She trails off when he uncovers his eyes, the room that had been a mess of wrapping paper and balloons when she’d last been in it transformed entirely. There were candles on every surface, providing the only light in the room. Illuminating photos from their life together that ranged from their first actual date, to her at her Master’s graduation, both of their hands on her bump, to pictures of them and Ivy. Snapshots of their lives scattered around the room interspersed with rose petals and bunches of wildflowers, containers from her favourite Chinese takeout on the coffee table. 

“Aaron…” she gasps, her voice trailing off again when she turns to look at him. As unsurprised as she is to find him on one knee with a ring box in his hands, she still feels tears press at the back of her eyes, love for him clogging her throat. 

“You’d think considering how long I’ve been trying to do this I’d have prepared what to say,” he says, emotional himself, his eyes shining in the candlelight. He opens the ring box and the tears she’d been suppressing slip past her lashline, “I love you, and I love Ivy and our life…” he swallows thickly and she can’t think of anything to do other than to kneel in front of him, so she does that, making them eye level, “And I really hope you say yes this time.” 

She chokes on a chuckle and reaches out for him, her hand hooking around the back of his neck, “For me to say yes, you need to ask the question.” 

She watches every moment they’ve shared flicker in his eyes. Their first kiss. The moment they’d agreed they would long distance. When she told him she was pregnant and everything that had happened since, and she knows what her answer was going to be, knows what the only answer could be. 

“Emily, will you marry me?” 

She nods, barely getting her response out before she’s kissing him, holding him close as he sinks into her with relief and happiness. 

“Yes.” 

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

What are the biggest fears of the townspeople in Stardew Valley?

Ok, this is a very interesting question. I tried to take into account the canonical fears of people (the same Abigail and Harvey), as they have dialogues that reveal their fears. Thanks for the ask, dear anon, and enjoy!

Warning: there are references to various phobias as well as sad and unpleasant moments. There is no detailed description but still it is worth warning, it may be unpleasant for someone to read.

Rats. Haley is terribly afraid of rats. Huge and scary rodents almost the size of Haley's handbag ... Eeeeeeep, gross!

To be buried alive in a pile of stones in the mines, to die of starvation or wounds, so that later your soul wanders through these very mines like a damned spirit... For Marlon, this is probably the worst fate that he would not wish even an enemy.

Acrophobia made it impossible for Harvey to follow his dream of becoming a pilot, and to this day he has to face problems due to his fear of heights.

Kent fears that the war with the Gotoro Empire will knock on the door of Stardew Valley, the home of his family and friends.

For Shane, the worst thing is if something happens to his dearest niece. Given that they live close to the forest where wolves and bears live...

Clowns... Penny stays away from the man with the clown make-up at every Stardew Valley Fair.

No matter how much Clint grumbles about his work as a blacksmith and about Pelican Town residents, his biggest fear is being alone. Especially dying alone.

The mere thought of going to the doctor brings panic to poor Vincent's face. And if he needs to get a flu shot, then all the glass and windows will crack from loud crying.

Needles. Bummer, why does Sam need to take medicine not in the form of bitter pills, but as an injection? Of course, he's not as scared as his younger brother, but his mom said that Sam cried a lot louder at the doctor's appointment when he was a child.

Poor Jas is terrified of the dark and won't be able to sleep in her room without her nightlight and plush bunny.

Every day, the Wizard needs to check the seal on his wife's hut, for he is afraid that she, in a fit of revenge, will still be able to unleash her wrath on the innocent inhabitants of Stardew Valley. If this happens, he will never forgive himself.

Sebastian has always loved watching the sea, but swimming in the sea - no thanks. One unpleasant incident in childhood, in which he almost drowned in sea water, discourages the desire to swim even in adulthood.

A huge crowd of people is what Leah fears the most, because she knows many true stories when an uncontrollable crowd in a panic can accidentally knock a person to the ground and trample.

Once Pierre visited an exhibition of vintage dolls in Zuzu city with his wife and said to himself: never again. Why dolls? He himself cannot answer.

Snakes for Marnie. And it doesn't matter if they're poisonous or not. Just the sight of a snake makes her break out in a cold sweat.

Abigail is a brave girl, but spiders have always been her weakness. And the fact that there are monster spiders in the mines... Brrr!

No one argues that good-natured Emily loves animals very much, but the sight of a huge predator like a bear or a pack of wolves causes her only piercing fear. And no wonder, these are wild animals.

For Jodi, it's the fear of food poisoning. An even greater fear is that you will be poisoned by your own cooked food. Even more - if her husband and sons were poisoned at the same time. She always checks five times to see if there are any accidental insects or something else in the dough or in the soup.

Who would have thought that Elliott has signs of lyssophobia. Although he is a very creative and philosophical person, among such people there are often individuals who are afraid to go crazy.

More than once or twice Demetrius refused Sebastian and Mary to have a puppy in the house. And this is not because he is harmful, but because he is terribly afraid of them (the dogs, not the kids).

George is afraid of what is inevitable and, sooner or later, will come to everyone without exception - old age.

It's not for nothing that Robin scolds her husband strongly when he almost set a fire in their house due to an unsuccessful experiment - the prospect of being burned alive in an inexorable flame in his own house scares the town carpenter the most. She treated the wood of their house for the sake of seriousness to minimize the possibility of a fire.

Maru can't stand honey, and that's because honey is the sweet nectar from honeycombs, one of the triggers of her trypophobia.

Sea sirens strike terror into the heart of every sailor, and Willy is no exception. An insidious angelic voice that cannot be resisted will pull you and your ship to the bottom, to be eaten by fish. Some mermaids are kind, but the old sea wolf knows what these sea demons can be.

There is no greater nightmare for Alex than the return of his biological father to the Pelican Town.

Somehow, I got the feeling that Lewis has signs of technophobia. All these gadgets, computers and newfangled smartphones cause him irritation, and then fear when he is forced to use one of them.

Poor Evelyn's heart was broken when she buried her daughter, and she fears more than anything that she will have to bury her grandson too... No mother/grandmother should bury their precious children.

The fear of tall objects, buildings, statues is one of the reasons why Gus decided to settle in a calm Valley, and not work as a cook in a huge metropolis.

[beansterpie]

Not to ramble about es21 but just saw a take on Twitter that presented Hiruma as someone who is clinging onto his persona (so his hair, the piercings, the threats— the things he allegedly does for the sake of scaring people) because he doesn’t see/understand himself, with the implication that he needs to stop clinging onto these things and face reality (eg, grow up). This is within the context of him in university and continuing to maintain his dyed hair. It’s a sentiment that I don't agree with and suddenly felt like rambling on about the topic lol.

For one, I don’t think the way he presents himself is solely for the sake of intimidating others. It’s definitely a factor, but I also think he just likes it. It’s like everything else he does— the renovated club room doesn’t do anything to intimidate rival teams but he did it anyway because he likes flashy, gaudy shit. His cartoon violence guns are certainly to intimidate people, but he also just likes guns. His trick plays are to confuse the opposing team and to make up for the lack of formal training that the Devilbats have, but he also just likes trick plays! It suits his personality, that’s just the kind of dude he is. He exaggerates aspects of himself to get a rise out of people, but they’re still aspects of him. Imo, what unnerves people is that he’s so unabashedly himself, and who he is is unhinged and calculating and contradictory and unapologetic. I’d even argue that his ‘unhinged’ side is him at his happiest, and when he gets quiet and pensive, he’s at his most tense or disappointed or like, bored with life lmfao.

And as far as canon goes, at least imo, it presents Hiruma as a person who is very honest with himself about who he is. He has no illusions about his limitations and isn't shy about letting people know that, not to mention how shameless he is in his goal of winning. He doesn't give a fuck what other people think of him, which I think is a pretty good indicator that he's comfortable in his own skin.

That being said, I do think he’s got trust issues when it comes to letting people in emotionally or allowing people to see his vulnerabilities. I think there’s enough in canon to suggest that this is probably because he’s been totally independent for so long and so learned to rely only on himself. Like, all we really know about his background is that he’s been living alone since middle school and has an estranged father lol. Throughout the series we see the exceptions to this in Kurita and Musashi, as well as new people joining those ranks like Mamori and to an extent Sena and the rest of the devilbats. Hiruma's arc is coming to trust and believe in his teammates, rather than solely operating on statistics and probability.

But I don’t think a guy having some trust issues necessarily means that he doesn’t know himself. For such a trickster-like character, he’s remarkably frank about what he wants and why.

And tbh, on a personal preference level, I find any future where Hiruma matures in a way that has him becoming more ‘normal’ low key a tragedy lmfao. I could see him choosing to stop bleaching his hair somewhere down the line because he can’t be assed anymore, but I cannot see him getting a more conventional haircut or developing more conventional tastes. Hiruma would continue to be a goth-punk who’s too into football and gambling even as an old man, change my mind.

[argumentativeaxolotl]

Hii, can you do random headcanons human au about lightning and doc? Like a father/son relationship?

Yes! I can do that for you! Thanks for asking ^^

LIGHTNING & DOC FATHER/SON HEADCANONS(HUMANIZED)?!? REAL?!:

Im so sorry there aren’t too many 😭 for some reason I’ve been struggling with concepts so if I think of any good ones later, I’ll add them back here! I hope you like these my friend!

- In my AU at least, Lightning never had a stable home-life, constantly jumping from foster home to foster home and sometimes said foster homes wouldn’t be the best. I’d assume thanks to his unfortunate circumstances, he never really had anybody take care of him until Mack and Doc arrived- even then there was only so much Mack could do or say in fear of getting fired or something.

- Doc loves Lightning(this is obvious), but the kid cannot cook for the life of him so whenever Lightning does something nice for Doc and makes food for him, and it ends up genuinely being shit or inedible, Doc will still eat it anyways because of how happy Lightning looks when he does.

- Lightning’s love language is gifts and making things for other people(even if he thinks he’s good at it, but really isn’t). I’d imagine Doc has a lot of random nicknacks and bracelets from Lightning lmao.

- I think that the first time Lightning accidentally called Doc Dad he got so scared and embarrassed that he fucking bolted out the door, ran to his 95, and raced outta town like a bat out of hell. He’s like “fuck I can’t go back and show my face! Doc’s gonna think I’m weird or something!!!!” But then doc’s like,”You think of me as a dad?! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” and immediately goes out after Lightning and brings him home- possibly having a heart to heart or something.

- Doc will do very small things that mean the world to Lightning, such as taking him to the store with him, going on small trips with him, just generally making Lightning feel wanted and just spending time with him.

- This one’s not necessarily Lightning and Doc only and is sorta canon, but Doc is everyone’s father 💀💀💀. Doesn’t matter who you are, as soon as you step foot in Radiator Springs once and you plan to stay for more than half an hour, then you are his kid. You have been adopted.

- Doc gave Lightning a bedtime. And Lightning was not happy abt it 😭. Lightning, despite being a mostly functioning adult, was still taking horrible care of himself(likely due to Harv’s harmful teaching and shitty “philosophies”. Fuck that guy) and would go to bed at seriously ungodly hours, even during race weekends which was a no no for obvious reasons. There was also the fact that Lightning got snippy and short whenever he didn’t sleep and everyone on the team was simply too nice to say anything until Doc did. I’d imagine it was because Lightning decided it would be a good idea to mouth off to the man after a race that went awry and he said stuff he didn’t mean. Doc would likely then realize the kid needed to have a nap before he collapsed or whatever then magically after said nap he was a bit better. Doc then decided that the kid’s bedtime would be 10:30 on the dot. Lightning, deciding he was an adult, complained to the man to which Doc replied with how shitty the kid had been acting which led to Lightning having a realization and leading to him apologizing his team who were more than forgiving and understood.

- Lightning’s a fuckingn iPad kid and Doc knows it and uses it to his advantage 💀💀. Whenever Doc just needs a second to himself or wants to disappear without worrying Lightning(a note or two would be written and left on the counter as well) he’ll leave a documentary- likely about prehistoric animals or modern animals- playing on the TV that will invest Lightning until Doc gets back.

- While having a stable father figure is new to Lightning, having a son-figure is for Doc as well. After Lightning called him dad, Doc has been reading every parenting guide book and news article and children’s mental health guide he could get his hands on. He didn’t want to mess up with the kid and he was still young(Doc knew Lightning didn’t have an all-too stable home-life, why else would he never talk to his parents or family members if he even had any?) and decently impressionable- plus there was all that deep-rooted shit Harv fucked Lightning up with. Doc did not want to hurt the kid and so he did his best with what he could, but it was hard since Lightning wasn’t exactly a child. Doc does his best anyways.

- Doc always gives 101% of his attention to Lightning, even when he’s physically doing something else such as making coffee. Doc loves listening to Lightning’s sometimes nonsensical rambles and rants about dinosaurs(Lightning is 100% a Dinosaur kid I know one when I see one for I am also one) and will listen when he starts nervously rambling about them during a race as well. He’ll always listen to his rants and stories, doing his best to keep up with the youngster. He’s glad Lightning loves sharing his interests with him and everyone in Radiator Springs. Lightning himself loves that he’s allowed to just keep talking all he wants and so he does, but he doesn’t have to “make sure” they’re still listening like he’d have to with Harv or shitty old friends of his because they’d all be paying attention anyways, even while busy. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

- Doc teaches Lightning how to do DIY shit or how to fix things(aside from cars. I’d imagine they bond on that. Maybe this one can be changed to Doc taught Lightning about the insides of a car? Like “if you wanna race, you can’t just know the pedals and wheel. You gotta know everything about your car” or something. Little lesson yk?) like doorframes or putting together IKEA furniture(screaming and crying). I’d imagine he loves teaching Lightning how to do woodshop and Lightning loves making little sculptures.

- For his first Father’s Day in Radiator Springs, Lightning decided to get the entire town involved since he wasn’t entirely sure what Doc liked and didn’t like that he could get the man. With his little dilemma, he went to everyone in the town getting input from everybody- some ranging from getting Doc an entire new tool kit or some sort of organizer thing to a nice set of overalls Doc could wear when fixing up the Hornet or working on projects. I like to think that maybe the entire town also get him things and nicknacks since everybody realized how much of a father Doc was. I think Lightning would be like,”fuck what do I get him 😰😰” Sally would be like,”BRO JUST GET HIM SOMETHING. HE’LL LOVE IT EITHER WAY ESPECIALLY IF IT COMES FROM YOU!” And then he decides to get Doc everything the others said anyways to which Doc is surprised and proves Sally right by saying something like,”Kid, you’re the only gift I need.” Or something corny. Maybe even like,”Kid, these are all wonderful, but you didn’t have to get all of these just for me.” Or sumn. Doc 101% uses all of the items everyday tho.

I’m sorry if these are a little short I’ll add some more later if k come up with good ones lol

[fandoms-rants]

Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Andriel Quotes Part 3:

(Quotes that remind me of (and/or I think they would say in canon or fanfics which I hope someone will write) Andrew, Neil or both of them and/or therir relationship)

"Do you not understand? I will not settle for anything less than a soul-deep, electrifying connection." (Andriel to Everyone who doubts them)

“Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why are ribs are cages.” (Andrew)

“I have a very intelligent mind but a goddamn stupid heart.” (Andrew **gay panicking** before he kissed Neil the first time)

“Light is easy to love. Show me your darkness.” (Andrew to Neil)

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.” (Neil about Andrew)

“Underestimate me. That'll be fun.” (Andrew)

“She will rise. With a spine of steel, and a roar like thunder, she will rise.” (Andrew post-canon)

"According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves." (Andriel)

“The initmacy of being understood.” (Andriel)

“If you don't want a sarcastic answer, don't ask a stupid question.” (Andrew)

“Why aren't you scared of me? Whyy do you care for me?” (Andrew to Neil and Neil to Andrew)

“The silent ones are the most observant ones.” (Andrew)

“He pretty cute for a Monster.” (Neil about Andrew)

“"I am coming for all the monsters that ever touched him, I am coming for all the ones who twisted his stars into shadows, They turned him into a nightmare, So I'm going to be theirs." (**Neil about Andrew**)

“"When a devil falls in love, it's the most hauntingly beautiful thing ever. And you should be terrified, for he will go to the depths of hell for her." (Andriel)(You choose who the devil is ;)

"Hold him gently in your hands. He has been cracked enough as it is, and his heart is more shattered than he lets on." (Neil about Andrew)

"I defy the stars; I defy Heaven and Hell. The laws of the universe say that the man I love is lost to me. I say: Watch me save him." (Andrew during Baltimore)

"Golden child, Lion boy; Tell me what it's like to conquer.” (Neil to Andrew) Fearless child, Broken boy; Tell me what it's like to burn." (Andrew to Neil)

“I will not have you without the darkness that hides within you. I will not let you have me without the madness that makes me. If our demons cannot dance, neither can we." (Andrew to Neil and Neil to Andrew)

“"Survivors have scars. Victims have graves.” (Andriel)

“I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself." (Neil)

“I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because 'romantic' doesn't mean 'sugary? It's dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can't attain.” (Andriel)

“I am almost never serious, and I'm always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I'm like a collection of paradoxes." (Andrew)

“If only my heart were as cold as I pretend it is, maybe I could get over this." (Andrew)

“I became bitter and untouchable. I craved affection but even the mere thought of someone caring made my stomach turn." (Andrew)

“I like the scars because I like the stories. Bravery, stupidity, pain-none of them come free." (Andrew to Neil)

“You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly." (Neil about Andrew)

“I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.” (Andriel)

“You and Atlas are one and the same my dear, cursed to hold a weight you can't bare and still standing not because you can but because you have to.” (Neil to Andrew)

“Lift with your knees, Atlas, the heavens are a burden but in the starlit ink of constellations you have written: Endure." (Andrew)

“"I'm someone who's mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be." (Andrew)

“My abuse isn't poetic. it was not justice or necessary. The earth left me to die and there is no such thing as karma. The gods watched idly by as i was killed in that house and not a damn person tried to help me.” (Andrew)

“You are allowed to grieve over the child you could've been.” (Neil to Andrew)

“"I spent my childhood learning how to fear, and now I spend my adulthood learning how not to." (Andriel)

**Im imagining this in a butcher!Neil or mafia!Neil AU. As a courting gift Neil brings Andrew the heads of all the men who abused him.**

*WARNING: About copyright, Quotes come from various places(ie. FanFiction, Tv, Movies, Music, Pinterest) so use in your own fanfic stories at your own.. I can’t think of the word but you know what I mean.*

[weirdfreakshow]

was recently in the ask box of someone who drew art from your (i believe its yours, correct me if im wrong!!) bully joel au and. i cannot get that pathetic little man out of my brain. i need his tummy kicked until he's crying and getting his gross snot everywhere. only for etho's boot (because im a firm etho boot wearer truther) to press into his cheek, shoving his face against the floor, and maybe push a little at his nose, the threat of him daring to break it no doubt real.

and definitely don't think about etho actually making joel's nose bleed, only for joel to get his face shoved to the leather with instructions of licking it clean of all his fluids. why make a mess if he isn't gonna clean it?

-🐝 (ps i love your stuffs, keep weirding it!!!)

Definitely mine!! (And from my anons, shotout to them)

And ooh fuck. Fuckkk yeahhhh !!! Etho canonically does wear boots in the au, and there's no doubt he uses them for absolute evil. From kicking Joel, to stepping on him, pushing his weight on his ribs as he's laying there on the floor, soooo close to making Joel's ribs crack. He presses the sole of them to Joel's face, leaving marks of dirt on his cheek. He steps on his little dick, and probably threatens to kick him in the balls only to hear Joel whine like a scared, beaten up mutt. Can you imagine? Etho makes a kicking motion but stops his foot right before it actually hits Joel, but he wails and curls on himself, all panicked, terrified — he knows Etho's boots are heavy, holy shit. I'm sure it kinda fills Etho with some sick satisfaction to see Joel that way, man.

Something abt Joel's little tongue cleaning Etho's boots make the gears in my brain turn. There's something so ero about it.

Bonus (cw emeto)