#fell into last of us brain rot last week and made this

[the-chrxnicle]

if somehow the lord gave me a second chance at that moment, i would do it all over again

i. through the valley - ashley johnson, chris rondinella || ii. simple man - lyndyrd skynyrd || iii. the last of us (goodnight) - gustavo santaolalla || iv. future days - pearl jam || v. the last of us - gustavo santaolalla || vi. alive - pearl jam || vii. hand me, oh hang me - oscar isaac, punch brothers, the secret sisters || viii. house of the rising sun - the animals || ix. hellfire - barns courtney || x. hell broke luce - tom waits || xi. landslide - fleetwood mac || xii. wish you were here - pink floyd || xiii. long long time - linda ronstadt || xiv. alone and forsaken - hank williams || xv. hurt - johnny cash || xvi. while my guitar gently weeps - the beatles || xvii. power over me (acoustic) - dermot kennedy || xviii. losing my religion - shawn james || xix. stairway to heaven - led zeppelin || xx. never let me down again - jessica mazin || xxi. going to california - led zeppelin || xxii. the last of us (never again) - gustavo santaolalla || xxiii. arsonist's lullabye - hozier || xxiv. future days - troy baker || xxv. vienna - billy joel || xxvi. black - pearl jam || xxvii. helpless hoping - crosby, still & nash || xxviii. we'll meet again - johnny cash || xxix. wayfaring stranger - ashley johnson, troy baker

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

[bluerosefox]

Misunderstandings and Miscommunications

Back at it again with some

✨️ Shenanigans ✨️

Brain rot.

Here goes.

So Danny finally tells his parents the truth (Phantom Planet not happening in this AU) and due to his anxiety and fear takes their disbelief and horror and yelling (not mad or angry but like worried yelling) as rejecting him.

They had rejected Vlad a few weeks ago when he had been caught as Plasmius but they only rejected him because they had found out he had been trying to kill Jack in order to get to Maddie and had been hurting Danny behind their backs while also trying to get him to denounce Jack as his dad, it had nothing to do with him being part ghost.

They do love Danny and are just horrified their invention had killed their baby boy and that they had been trying to hurt him for a last few years because they didn't know he was Phantom (but the clues, oh the clues were staring at them in the face now, how blind they were to it oh.)

Due to Danny's panic he runs off into the Infinite Realms in order to hide with one of his ghost friends but.... he runs into some trouble (Skulker? Walker? idk pick any) and gets tossed in a random portal that had opened up.

And finds himself in the DC verse.

Danny accidentally falls into a huge battle as well and when he spots the heroes trying to protect the city he fell into from some huge evil villain he helps out despite his own emotions (it helps distract him from what he 'thinks' happened between him and his parents)

And once he's done helping he books it cause he need to process everything and doesn't stop when the hero he helped out called out to him, and phases out and turns invisible if the hero tries to stop him to talk. It isn't long until Danny is in a new city and finds some more people to help from villains and evil, and he starts using it to distract himself.

Basically Danny aimlessly wanders around and starts helping anyone to keep his mind off the thought of never being able to go home again.

Meanwhile his parents are PANICKING about not being to find Danny after he runs. They try calling his friends, but the moment they hear the Fenton's say they know about him being Phantom they too jump the gun and think Danny was rejected. They both yell, not letting the Fenton's say anything, and let slip Danny most likely is hiding in the Infinite Realms (aka the Zone) if hes not in Amity.

Tucker and Sam immediately hang up and call Jazz, whose at college, before the Fenton parents could and tell her what happened. And Jazz isn't happy.

Despite being so smart and willing to give their parents so many chances to change their views on Ghosts, she's not a child anymore and isn't going to let them hurt Danny (they don't want to). She starts making her way home to give her parents a piece of her mind.

But by the time she gets there, driving all night, her parents are missing and she finds a video message on the computer from Tucker explaining they had snuck into the house to go into the portal to try to find Danny only to see the Fenton parents suiting up and going into the zone with the Specter Speeder and Boo-o-rang keyed to Danny. "No doubt they're going to hunt Danny down, we're going to try to slow them down and find Danny before they do Jazz! We left an extra Boo-o-rang behind keyed on Danny's signature come help us when you get this message! Take Danny's Specter Bike I made sure the keylock is off!" (Let's pretend Tucker tinkered with the design of the Specter Speeder and made some bike versions, with Danny and funnily enough Johnny 13's help, it was fun bonding thing they all did)

Jazz is even more livid after that. Takes a few things and heads to the portal as well, hopefully to find Danny first before her parents.

By the time Jazz finds the portal that opens to the DC verse she's in Gotham, runs into Red Hood (and helps take down some gang goons but in the process her Boo-o-rang gets busted in the scuffle) and basically they talk. She asks if he's seen any runaway blue eyed black haired young teens around and Jason jokingly says "Nope but we better find him before the Big Bad Bat takes him and turns him into a Robin."

Jazz is very confused.

MEANWHILE

The Fenton parents are of course making a menace of themselves... They're driving around (which is a warning enough if Jack is behind the wheel) trying to find Danny to explain that they do love him and to come back home, and when they do find Danny he freaks out and starts booking it again (right as he actually stopped to talk enough with a hero too). The heroes of the DC verse whose meet Danny and those that heard about some young 'meta' teen whose been helping out and is very powerful, take note how scared and panicked he looked when facing the two and things get worse when they take note how... careless they are going after him (cause we know the Fenton's get a little extreme) and add the fact they look like mad scientists too (they haven't been sleeping well since Danny ran off)

So the DC heroes start assuming the worse for the young teen hero...

It gets even much WORSE when Tucker and Sam, who are hot on the Fenton's heels as well, show up and eventfully tell them what happened (or what they think happened) when they gain their trust.

Basically, a lot of miscommunication happens.

Danny thinks he needs to be on the run from his parents and is helping out in the DC verse to keep his mind off his own breaking heart from the rejection (if you wanna make it serious maybe have his actual core in danger from the rejection or something). And is nearly adopted by every hero who see's this sad ghost kid.

His parents are labeled mad scientists (kinda are) who are hunting Phantom down to end him or experiment on him but they actually DO love him and just want their son come back home. (due to being Fenton's they do kinda accidentally cause a lot of mayhem in their wake)

Tucker and Sam are trying to be amazing friends and stopping the Fenton's from hurting their best friend but much like Danny they are a bit too caught up in their emotions to realize the truth of what happened and may or may not alerted the JL and JLD why Danny is on the run in the first place. (when they had down time to find out where they were they found out about the meta protection laws and is kinda using that to get Danny help)

Jazz is in Gotham, has no way to track Danny down at the moment, is talking with Red Hood (coughAngerManagementcough) about finding her brother and saving him from her parents before they do anything to hurt him. Cue Red Hood (and maybe with the help of the Outlaws) helping Jazz go find her brother.

This can be serious but I mostly see it being silly with nothing but shenanigans and a lot of miscommunication.

[braxlrose]

HII ! CAN I REQUEST A LOT (like A LOT) OF BILL SFW AND NSFW HEADCANNONS PLS 🙏🙏 the brain rot is hitting hard. THANK U

YESS!!! SORRY I HAVENT WRITTEN IN LIKE 2 WEEKS YOU GUYS IM SO SORRY

this is not proofread btw BUT ANYWAYS

Bill is a sucker for you

When you two first met in 2003 when you moved to Magdeberg, he fell in love so quickly

He believes in love at first sight and in destiny and soulmates

He truly believes you two are meant for eachother

Now even though he does believe in that, it takes him a while to want to be bf and gf

When he found out you played an instrument, he fell EVEN harder

After a few days of pining for you and constantly talking to tom about you, he sits down next to you in class

He starts chatting with you a bunch and ends up finding out so much about you

When he told you he was in a band you were so intrigued

You always wanted to start your own band but never met the right people

He invited you to come to one of their concerts and you had such a fun time

You thought he looked so cute (and cool!!) when he was wearing his plaid skirt in front of everybody

You two got closer and you even met Gustav, Georg and Tom

Tom was totally skeptical of you at first

He thought that you were using him for your own gain or just pretending to be his friend to embarress him.

A lot of people had bullied Bill and he just wanted to make sure you weren't one of them

But he got less skeptical as you and Bill grew closer and actually came to liking you

On your first date with Bill, he came to your house and even brought you flowers

He's just cute like that

Your dad thought he was gonna be some perverted little teenage boy (he is but not in the gross bad way) so when he came to your house with a cute smile on his face and flowers in his hands he was surprised to say the least

He brought you two to a drive in movie theater and you guys sat in the back of his step-dads truck.

He brought a blanket for you two and his mom gave him some money so he could get you guys popcorn, soda and candy

You two watched Labyrinth

And he later found out you also shared his joy for David Bowie

After that you two were officially bf and gf

You would sit at lunch with him and the band

And come to his house

His mom LOVED you

You two would also make out up in his room

Tom would always interrupt you guys 😒

You were there at the site when the band was filming 'Monsun' and were so in love with him

He looked amazing and felt so happy and less stressed because you were there

When the musikvideo came out, TONS of girls became obsessed with him

Which made you a bit insecure and jealous, but Bill always reassured you, he only wanted you and no one else

When they went on a tour in the summer, after weeks of asking your mom she finally agreed to let you go with them.

You went on the tour bus with them, which they were all happy to have you

They loved you and thought you were the perfect match for bill

You two would cuddle while sleeping and he would always hold your waist

In the mornings, you'd sit on his lap and do his makeup for him

Which he definitely enjoys, yk having a pretty girl on his lap

He just sits there and smiles up at you since your faces are like 2 inches away from eachother

You obviously get free tickets for the gigs and love watching them

Bill loves hearing you scream out their songs and is super happy whenever he's finished a song and sees you smiling and waving at him

After a show, you always run back stage and give him a big kiss which lasts forever

When you guys go to parties you two are either standing by the food table drinking spiked punch

On one of the couches making out

Or dancing together

If you're standing by the food table, he has you standing in front of him and has his arms wrapped around you waist

If you get tired, he'll turn you around and have you lay against his chest with one of his hands rubbing your back and the other playing with your hair

If you two on are one of the couches making out, he has his hands tightly on your hips and your hands on in his hair, if it's more of a heated make out

If you two are just mindlessly making out, soft and slow. He has you sitting sideways on his lap and has his hand caressing your hair. No tongue, just soft sweet kisses

NOW

If you two are dancing together, like I've said A MILLIONS TIMES.

hands. on. your. waist.

He loves having his head buried in your neck and swaying your hips side to side.

He loves the closeness

Once you guys get home from a party you are tired out

You go up to yours and bills hotel room and you two practically pass out

But first you change out of your closes

Sometimes

It really depends on how drunk you two are

All of those 3 scenarios are a result of drinking

If you were standing by the food table, you were drinking which either led to dancing or making out.

And the making out led to dancing

And the dancing led to making out

But anyways

No matter how drunk bill is, he's always holding you close

In bed there are many positions

Yk..

For..

SLEEPING

YOU DIRTY MINDED PPL OH MY GOD IM DISAPOINTED

UGH

Anywayssss

You two spoon or lay face to face

And sometimes one of you lays on top of the other

When you two are totally plastered, you are spooning, if it's in between, one of you two are laying on the other, if you're only tipsy you two are laying face to face and giggling half the night

As I've said before

THIS MAN LOVES YOU SO SO SO MUCH

You're his everything and he tells you that

The first time you two had sex, he was so sweet

It started out as just a simple night and he was braiding your hair and you two ended up kissing

Which led to sex

He was so soft with you

Asking you if everything was okay

Making sure to go slow at first

Kissing you everywhere

And he always made sure you weren't uncomfortable

And he wiped you down afterwards

And you two cuddled away again

In 2008, when bill lost his voice, he was so scared

But thank God you were there

You held him every second and kissed his tears away

When he couldn't talk for 2 weeks, you babied the fuck outta him

But not in a bad way

Just getting him food, and giving him bathes and stuff like that

Which he enjoyed bc he knows how much you care for him

And you were literally jumping for joy when you heard his voice again

In 2011 you and bill got married

It was so beautiful, there were flowers everywhere and everything was absolutely perfect

You were so lucky to be with bill and he was so lucky to have you. You two were the perfect match for eachother and Georg, Gustav and Tom were so happy to finally see you guys get married

They all had bets on when it would finally happen

As a husband, Bill is the absolute sweetest

I mean, as a boyfriend he was sweet too but oh my god

Husband bill is everything

He rubs your back, feet, shoulders, head, legs WHATEVER YOU WANT HE WILL DO

Showers with him are so fantastic too

Shower sex is even better 😏😘

MATCHING TATTOOS.

But besides that, he makes sure to get your soap all lathered up and make you squeaky clean

I REPEAT.

MATCHING TATTOOS.

They're so cute

Even if it's something stupid, he's so happy to get matching tattoos

He also got matching tattoos with you back in the 2000s but I forgot to say that

You two have movie nights all the time

Labyrinth, the princess bride, Bill and Ted's excellent adventure, the Neverending story.

yall love 80s and 90s American movies

you two celebrate the cutest anniversaries

First date obviously

Bro somehow remembers the exact day you two met 💀???

You two have a bunch of firsts and he loves to celebrate them

He's a romantic

A big romantic

Especially for his darling schazi

IF I DIDNT MENTION HE CALLS YOU ALL SORTS OF GERMAN TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

Schatz, schatzi, liebling, maus, etc.

He wants to grow old with you and be with you forever

He's never ever thought of being with someone else and never will

YALL IM SO SORRY BUT IM KIND OF TIRED RN, I WILL DO A NSFW VERSION THOUGH. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS 😭

[forestshadow-wolf]

Thinking about your post about soapghost settling their arguments by fighting it out: one day they have an argument about something serious, some sort of major life decision (retirement, marriage, kids, something like that and really the only reason its an argument is because one of them is scared shitless by the idea) and it ends up on the mats with them yelling arguments about why it is/isn't a good idea until one of them just stares at their partner who is yelling passionately about the life they could have together and just... let's himself get pinned.

👀 did I do good?

thankyou for this ask !!!! this actually rots my frickin' brain and I needed an excuse to write more for this using this ask to force the arguments post into my girl-dad au, but doesn't have to be read that way.

P.s. this is a long one. Imma put ot under the cut

I imagine, way way before they retired, they had married and long-since agreed to retire together.

they'd fought about retiring. Ghost didn't mind the idea of it, was waiting for it to happen actually. but soap, he had quite a few hang-ups about it. see, he'd joined the army at an early age, as soon as he was legal, which means he doesn't really have any civilian life experience. what if he's not ready, what is it doesn't work for him, what if he can't do it, what if, what if, what if...

they argued, it was one of the first BIG arguments they'd ever had. but it's fine, they had a system. they get one day to resolve it with words, if they can't solve it, they take it to the mats. the logic is if you really believe in your argument, then you'll fight defend it adequately.

it was evident when they ended up on the mats on the second day that they hadn't resolved it. There was a mutual apoken agreement that they don'ttake the argumentoff the mats once it entered. they traded blows just as frequently as they traded arguments.

hours later they were panting and exhausted, and still hadn't come to an agreement, and nor had either of them won. so for the first time ever, they had to put the argument on pause. the put it aside for the night, cleaned up, had dinner, and fell asleep in each other's arms. the next morning they were back on the mats.

there was some point, when they were locked shoulder to shoulder, sweat making their skin stick together, and they were too out of breath to hiss arguments at each other. there was a moment where soap could hear Ghost's breath come out shaky with exertion, but still he pushed harder. soap realized that this, Simon retiring with his Johnny, was really truly important to Ghost.

it's not like he didn't know that, but still, the revelation almost makes him falter. suddenly it's like every argument he made against it, became irrelevant. he breaks away from Ghost's hold, panting. in a brash decision he dives for Ghost's legs, he knows what follows will be a grab around his waist just before his back slams into the mat. the sound that reverberates through the heated, sweaty air is, however, surprisingly loud. he lays there, gasping for the breath that got knocked out of him, and lets Ghost pin him down.

After soap finally agreed to retire with Ghost one day, he starts thinking about it. Really thinking. About how he grew up in a large family, and even in the military his life has been revolving around moving parts and people. He thinks maybe he might want a kid or two, not as many as his parents, but one or two.

Ghost says no immediately after soap brings it up.

He's afraid he'll do a bad job, that he'll mess it up. Or even worse; become his father. I mean, how is he supposed to be a good dad of he doesn't even know what that means! Christ! He's just gonna mess them up! He's not cut out to be a father. All he's know is death and hurt. How is that supposed to translate into something good.

This one. This argument lasted even longer than the one about them retiring. This one lasted almost an entire week.

And again like last time they got one day, before they hit the mats. That one day, was the single most tense day on base. Neither soap nor ghost could speak to eachother without circling back to the argument at hand. And of course nobody was willing to break up the fight, lest they get pulled into it.

For the six days after that, they shed their responsibilities, and hit the mats. And it was viscous. Neither held back. They were evenly matched. One fueled by fear, and the other; hope or love, choose your pick.

Even still there was an understanding that once the argument entered the mats, it stayed there when they left, to be picked back up when they came back.

They were sent on one mission during that time, on the sixth day after they hit the mats. It was supposed to last to be easy, would take them less than a day. Of course something went wrong, because something always goes wrong. They both almost died, but through some ruck of luck they got out barely scathed.

The put their gear away, ate, and hit the mats again; despite how tired they were. And Ghost, the moment that ge stepped back onto the mat again, he knew. He knew that he'd do anything for soap. They'd almost died today. But they didn't. Infact, they barely even had any scratches on them.

But still he couldn't fight that instinct to fight, to push back. And still soap was smiling that damned smile. He was so sure of himself, so sure of that he could get ghost to say yes.

And rightfully so. Because one moment he was lifting soap to throw him over his shoulder, and the next he was the one on the ground, soap having used his own momentum to pull his legs out from under him.

And he could have fought it, his mind screamed at him to. But soap was still grinning, and he knew that there was no way he'd be winning.

Perhaps... perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps he could learn to be not like his father. Perhaps he could learn to be a dad. Perhaps there was a chance, with soap by his side, showing him how, that he would ruin the child or children that they got. Perhaps soap could show him how to not be like his father.

[canisonicscrewyou]

DUNNO WHAT OTHER ANON WAS TALKING ABOUT BUT I CARE. tell me about it

I have been meaning to answer these for like a hot week. Take my hand(s). Come with me. This AU is excellent if you don't care too much about canon and if you want to permanently ruin the way you watch Eleven's run w the Ponds. This is also just straight infodumping.

This post is both shorter and longer than I expected. I can talk about this for ages so this is truly one of those topics that’s like If You Have Any Questions At All About Fobwatched Rory!Master AU GimmeGimmeGimme I Will Always Be Down To Talk About Him/Them.

The gist is that this is an AU where Rory Williams is still Rory Williams. It’s just that Rory Williams should not exist? It’s just that Rory Williams Definitely Did Not Exist until some busted TARDIS fell into a backyard in Leadworth in the 90s and sat there to rot. It’s- It’s just that Rory Williams is a front. Was made up. Rory Williams is genetically human. Rory Williams has a fobwatch that has been harboring the Master for as long as Rory Williams has existed.

The background is that the year is 2012 and this is a headcanon being tossed around because the Master has not even been alluded to in Eleven’s run. Criminal. This premise was promptly stolen by me and ruined my brain for the next 12 years. There are a handful of fanfics that explore this premise, it’s been Too Long since I’ve read any so I truly don’t have any recommendations right now.

So. We have Rory Williams.

You may ask me “Hey, Andrew, in 2012 when other people were playing with this headcanon, was there anything in canon that could have supported this? Not because you NEED to justify headcanons and AUs with hard canon. I’m just curious.” and I say thank you for specifying. YES. Definitely. Totally.

I hope this helps :)) No straws were being grasped :)) It will be like 3 more years until Missy is introduced :))))) Some of us were starving :))))))))

So now that that’s some fun fandom lore established let’s settle this bastard (the Master)’s timeline…

From the Doctor’s timeline: Eleven has not actually seen the Master. Eleven’s last time seeing the Master was Simm!Master being dragged back to Gallifrey before the regeneration tour. The Master is dead.

From the Master’s timeline: Missy is dying. Missy is trying not to die and is effectively kickstarting a new regeneration cycle.

There are two priorities here: Get far away from the Doctor and get far away from any version of themself. In fact that new regeneration cycle might take time to fully develop. Doubly in fact, the Master’s TARDIS is not in good shape.

Solution: chameleon arch.

Rory Williams is not meticulously planned as a human. Rory Williams didn’t even have a name made up when the Master was both regenerating and going under the chameleon arch. There was no planning or time to plan. There was just going, and hoping for the best, because the chameleon arch will sort itself out just fine. (wrong)

Amelia Pond moves to Leadworth with her family as a young girl.

The night Amelia Pond settles into a house with a crack in the bedroom wall, a TARDIS crashes in someone else’s backyard in Leadworth. And Brian and Mallory Williams suddenly remember that they were supposed to be renovating their daughter’s bedroom (that strangely looks like a home office at the time), and put Rory Williams to sleep on the couch after he comes wandering in from the woods out back.

Rory Williams meets Amelia Pond the literal next day, and immediately, unknowingly, the youngest 7 year old in existence Fucks The Master’s Whole Shit Up For An Entire Millennia.

About a week later, the Doctor crash-lands into Amelia Pond’s backyard, and there is literally too much going on for him to even get a HINT that his Best Divorced Enemy is taking a ✨Mental Health Break✨ a few blocks over.

Amelia tells Rory all about the Raggedy Doctor she met and he does not question the weird anxious feeling in his stomach at all, because this kid is dealing with other things, like transgenderism and hanging off of Amelia Pond’s arm and also her Every Last Word. He will get dragged into games of Raggedy Doctor until they are at least 15 and will look at all of her Raggedy Doctor fanart and trinkets and listen to her borderline religious obsession with this character and is the only person in Leadworth aside from Mels to not look at her funny or tell her its all A Bit Too Much when she starts ranting about him. He decides early on he wants to be a doctor. Or maybe a nurse.

curb your enthusiasm.mp3

Everything from Eleventh Hour on is… Pretty accurate. The Master isn’t even really involved. The Master is in an old antique wristwatch somewhere in the Williams’ house, buried in boxes in Rory’s closet. I’m sure there’s a joke there somewhere.

Rory Williams is just. Like that.

The Master has no hand in Rory Williams’ sheer inability to die.

Every time Rory somehow evades inexistence the Master is pleasantly surprised. It makes absolutely no damn sense how this random human managed to escape death multiple times. It makes no damn sense that he just so managed to become an Auton just so he could guard his girlfriend for 1000 years (for the Doctor, but it’s important that every move this man makes is in Amy Pond’s name. The Doctor doesn’t even cross Rory’s mind when he decides to watch over the Pandorica.).

Rory Williams does not think much about how anxious he feels in the TARDIS. Somehow, the TARDIS makes him feel claustrophobic. Somehow, he feels like he isn’t welcome there, though nobody around him would give him that impression, ever. He does not think much about how he understood how the TARDIS worked immediately outside of the one article he read on dimensional travel. There is a period of time where he thinks the sickly feeling he gets in his stomach looking at the Doctor is just him needing to unpack weird feelings around his own bisexuality and Amy teases him relentlessly for it, because honestly, it’s just mortifying that it’s the Doctor of all people.

Around the Power of Three, Brian Williams is downsizing. It’s just him living in Rory’s childhood home now, no reason to hold onto all of these boxes of things.

Brian discovers an old, busted wrist watch in Rory’s childhood bedroom, buried deep in his closet shelves where he frankly never even touched. There’s some part of his memory that tells him it was from Rory’s grandfather, some hand me down, a gift for a christening, something. Rory should have this watch. Rory would want it. Next time he sees Rory, he gives it to him.

Rory is now aware of the watch. The Master is now aware that Rory is aware of the watch. The watch has gotten incredibly claustrophobic. The Universe resetting itself doesn’t take away Rory’s centurion stint, and it doesn’t apply to streams of consciousness that are hidden in dusty Time Lord tech. Rory does not want to open the watch- there is a part of Rory deeply self aware that if it’s opened, he will no longer exist. Every fiber of Rory’s being feels compelled to open the watch. The Master does want to open the watch- but the Master does not, cannot have, the watch opening around the Doctor. Neither man wins in this scenario.

You are the Master. You explicitly chose some random coordinates and fobwatched yourself into some random human with a random backstory. You somehow wound up best friends with the person obsessed with your ex that you were AVOIDING. You all traipse around his TARDIS together. You die and come back multiple times for this girl, this woman that you hooked onto immediately. Your daughter marries that same fucking ex. You couldn't have pranked yourself harder if you tried.

You are Amy Pond. You shouldn't really exist but you do against all odds. And you do not deserve any of this.

When the Master comes out(ha.) it is messy and awkward and nobody has a good time. There is no discernible reason why the Doctor should believe the Master going “oops !! oopsie !! well this is awkward isn’t it !!!!” while wearing the face of his best friend’s husband, and a very good friend of his own, and also technically his father-in-law. The Master is also aware of this. The Master is, actually, feeling kind of guilty that he killed Amy Pond’s husband right in front of her?

The Master has been locked in a state of half-regeneration for 1000 years. The Master has been in Rory Williams head, and likewise the Master has had Rory Williams in his own head. The Master is softly aware that there is something different in him this time around. There is something that feels decidedly human, sickly and overly emotional and cagey. There’s also just plain dysphoria when he looks in the mirror as himself, as the Master and not Rory, for the first time, something that absolutely fucks up the Master who is A. A Time Lord who has regenerated dozens of times B. Up until this point frequently operates on the idea that “Any Working Body Is A Good Body”.z

Eleven hates his guts. Amy is not fond either. (I am convinced that if that watch opened up without the Doctor around at all he would’ve immediately snatched up Amy and forced her to be his best friend even if she didn’t want to. I am certain that if Rory opened the watch at a few specific points the Master could’ve absolutely just willingly whisked Amy away to be his own companion and they would be sooo fucked up together.) It is uncertain to everyone involved whether or not River knew this was a possibility, let alone something she knew would even happen. The Master is spiraling. The Master is also lonely, both in the present and in the memory of being Missy. The memory of a Doctor who doesn’t exist yet. Rory Williams is a ghost that haunts the Master until he regenerates. Rory is in his sudden knowledge of how to properly bandage a burn. Rory is in his hesitation at saying the coldest and cruelest thing he could think of to get a reaction out of Amy Pond. Missy is in the inside joke he quips to the Doctor before realizing that the joke hasn’t happened yet. Missy is in the way he wonders if the Doctor even had a chance at remembering this regeneration of his since the whole timeline is disrupted, so does it actually matter what he does with it? Between Rory and between everything that happened with Missy and the Saxon Master and Twelve, is he actually what he perceives as the Master anymore? Or will another version of himself eventually just come along and put him down like a sick dog for not performing correctly, too?

Rory haunts the Master in the way that the Doctor can’t look at the Master’s face without revulsion for ages. Until the Master is grasping at straws, and suddenly insisting that the Doctor look him in the eyes. And he does- he just barely does. It’s not what he was expecting, but he does it. The Master grabs at his wrist and there’s a desperate insistence to the way he says it, the most pathetic “Say My Name” to ever fall from any regeneration’s lips, and when the Doctor does say “Master…”, it’s only to follow up with “Master… Are you okay?” because NO he clearly isn’t. The Master is quite obviously never okay but this is different, nothing is working the way it used to, nothing sounds right and even the Doctor isn’t doing it right and it’s clearly(/s) all just because of Fucking Rory Williams.

Anyways. It’s about haunting your own narrative and it’s about how to best fuck up a Time Lord who was Too Human For Too Long. It’s about giving the Master empathy and both gender and social dysphoria and an identity crisis.

It's also about Amelia Pond and Rory Williams, two human beings who by all accounts should NOT exist at all, finding and loving each other because two TARDISes crash landed in Leadworth in 1996.

In Conclusion:

P.S. while I’m here: Him Face (Also important to note that if you’ve read this far in, congratulations, you get the added fun fact of knowing that in this the Master’s TARDIS is a horribly beat up and graffiti’d vending machine. It’s not stuck like that. It’s just how his TARDIS prefers to present, and shockingly, the Master’s TARDIS refuses to listen to a word he fucking says.)

[nhl-stories]

. – Quinn Hughes

Summary: Ignoring the pain of a break up is a lot easier when you're not best friend's with your ex's brother

Author’s Note: A song title being a period is very annoying for writing, prepare for angst below

Word Count: 4.4k​

Album Series Masterlist

It's been so hard Ever since you broke my heart But I'll never tell Honey, I'm not doing so well

It’s like a rite of passage to get a crush on your friend’s older sibling. There’s some sort of forbidden love chemical that goes off in your brain and you just can’t help it.

You never expect anything to happen with it, maybe some embarrassing moments of staring or a few ridiculous confessions in a diary, but nothing more.

Lux wishes her crush could have been more aptly named, and the puppy love had been squashed before anything actually happened.

“Can I get into my house and wash the car off of me before you start bothering me,” Lux tries to sidestep Jack who’s sitting on her porch.

After a five-hour drive, the last thing she needs is to deal with a needy Jack. She’s physically exhausted and doesn’t feel like becoming emotionally exhausted on top of it.

“No, you ignored my texts.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she rolls her eyes.

She tries using her suitcase to box him out and make it to the door, but of course he’s faster than her and grabs her ankle pulling her down onto the porch into a heap. She sits up with a huff, but can’t help but notice how serious Jack looks.

“Are you gonna ignore me all summer? Because you graduate next year and you may never get a summer off again!”

“You can’t expect me to just happily go hang out at the lake all summer.”

“She’s only gonna be there for like two weeks, she has a job to go back to,” he says it like it’s a selling point.

“You know it’s not just about her, but since I can already see you’re not going to stop unless I say yes, I’ll see you in two weeks,” she tries to escape again, but Jack grabs her wrist.

“Luxy, please come to the party this weekend, my mom would love to see you,” she wants to kick him for playing the mom card, “and I’ll even drive you home so you don’t have to spend the night.”

She narrows her eyes, “Yeah right, you’ll get drunk and then I’ll be held captive in the house of testosterone.”

Jack’s eyes dart around because he can’t deny the possibility of that happening.

“Don’t let Quinn ruin our summer fun,” he settles on that dagger.

“Fine,” she caves and Jack does a fist pump in response, “but you have to stay here for dinner because my mom keeps peeking through the curtain and she’ll be pissed if you leave.”

Lux wouldn’t be in the position if she had never befriended Jack in the first place. Or as she usually referred to it, Jack begrudgingly endeared himself to her.

It had started in middle school, when Jack had chosen drama class as his art elective and of course Lux had gotten assigned as his scene partner for the semester. It was the classic partnering of the ‘class disruption’ with the ‘class delight’ in hopes they’d balance each other out.

Jack was loud and brash and loved to rile up Lux, making fun of the way her cheeks would burn red in exasperation. Lux was the quiet girl in class, but one on one she could hold her own with an acid tongue that could easily rattle Jack’s demeanor. Their teacher thought she couldn’t have made a better pair.

The first time Lux went to Hughes’ house to practice lines, she fell in love.

Quinn was only a couple years older but with her tween brain rotting with hormones; Lux thought she was seeing a man for the first time, when she was always surrounded by mere boys.

Lux decided being Jack’s friend was something she needed in her life, if only for the proximity to her new crush. And when Ellen learned Lux was good in science, she recruited her to tutor Jack and the girl became ingrained in the family’s life.

For Lux and Jack their friendship grew to be a nice escape from usual social circles; a comfortable space where there were no expectations to act or talk or think a certain way.

And Lux got the extra benefit of secretly glancing at Quinn. Sure, her mouth turned to sand when he would merely say hi, or her face cherry red when she had even the slightest physical contact with him. Even if was just ruffling her hair in an older brother sort of way. But it all felt worth it for those miniscule interactions.

It was the one thing Jack never made fun of her for, maybe he thought it would fade away over time, like all of his crushes. But it never fully disappeared, even when she dated boys in her own grade, her heart held a special place for Quinn.

And against the odds something happened.

Lux went to Michigan for a college visit and Quinn offered to show her around a little.

“I can even give you a non-parent approved tour,” he had joked.

It was the first time they had spent any time alone, and something just clicked. They laughed at the same jokes, especially at Jack’s expense, talked about their futures even when Quinn’s was clearly more set in stone than Lux’s. By the end of the visit, they didn’t want to stop talking. So, they didn’t.

Texting went from occasionally, to daily. Texting turned to phone calls. Phone calls turned into visits to Quinn’s dorm to hang out and help him study.

Neither made a move for a long time. Lux, because she was worried that she might be reading too much into it. Quinn because she was still in high school and one of Jack’s friends.

Nothing happened until Jack’s graduation party. Jack was preoccupied with his other friends from hockey as they talked about the upcoming draft. And Lux was about to duck out to go to another friend’s party after she finished a piece of cake.

“Congrats valedictorian,” Quinn says, of course, while Lux has a mouthful of cake.

“Congrats on dropping out of college,” she laughs, hoping her wit covers up her nerves.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, I spend too much time with Jack and that means keeping his ego in check.”

“The world thanks you for that,” they both laugh.

There’s a long silence, Lux fills it with finishing her cake before she gathers some courage.

“I was going to head out to another party, want to come with?”

They never made it to the party; they ended up pulling into a parking lot and making out. It was a start of a summer romance, something to enjoy before Quinn went to Vancouver and Lux to Northwestern. It was a bonus making Jack constantly annoyed by their PDA.

The summer ended and they didn’t, a long distant relationship tided over by games in Chicago, spring breaks, and summers off.

Things were great. And then they weren’t. And then they were over.

It’s been months since the breakup, but the wound is still fresh for Lux. Her grades started slipping in the last semester, she began losing weight in the bad kind of way, she stopped going out with her friends as much.

Lux wishes she was doing better. Not to show Quinn, who already had a new girlfriend, up.  Rather, to prove to him (or maybe herself) that her world didn’t end when he ended things. Most days it felt like it had.

She checks her rearview mirror for the thousandth time to make sure she looks well-rested and her eyes aren’t puffy and red from crying on the way over.

“You can do this, there will be other people and you don’t have to talk to him more than hello,” she gives herself a pep talk.

After another deep breath she gets out of her car, grabbing her overnight bag because deep down she knows she’ll end up staying.

She lets herself into the house like normal, and is surprised by how quiet it is. She walks further into the house and finds Ellen in the kitchen chopping fruit.

“Lux, it’s so good to see you!” She puts down the knife and engulfs the girl in hug, “I’m glad someone’s here to help keep them out of trouble.”

Lux follows her eyes to where a group of man-children are outside.

“That’s a lot to ask of one person,” she chuckles before meandering around the kitchen island to avoid going outside, “do you need any help?”

Ellen’s eyes soften giving Lux a sad smile before pulling her into another hug.

“I know it’s hard sweetie, but it’s going to be okay,” she squeezes her once more, “and there’s some veggies you can cut.”

Lux can’t help but notice how at home she feels here, she knows where everything is like it’s her own place, which last summer it sort of had been. She had helped the boys move in and decorate and organize.

“How’s school? Your mom tells me you’re taking the MCATs next?”

“I’m taking them, but I don’t know if I want medical school or grad school or what,” she doesn’t mention that her breakup with Quinn has her second guessing every life choice.

 “My dad thinks I should take a year off to figure it out."

"That’s not a terrible idea, you work too hard.”

“Luxy!”

“Lukey!” She laughs at the lanky teen and pulls him into a hug, “Do they feed not feed you at college? You’re all bones.”

She thinks she hears Luke mumble under his breath, “I could say the same about you,” but Ellen speaks up before she can dwell.

“He’s like a bottomless pit, we’re banishing him to Jack and Quinn’s cause he’s eating us out of house and home,” Ellen laughs from the counter.

“Good call, they got that NHL money now.”

“Why didn’t you come out and say hi?” Jack calls out when he and the boys start entering the house.

“Because I’m a polite house guest and I'm helping your mom with food,” she stabs the knife in the air to make her point.

Jack comes over and gives her a hug and a spin.

“Glad you actually came,” he whispers as he sets her down.

Some of the other boys from the National program come and give her hugs, they were never close friends but friends by proximity.

The back door opens again and Quinn comes in, hair wet from the lake and leading an equally wet girl by the waist. She knew she would see them but it doesn’t stop her heart from deflating a bit.

Lux can already picture how Quinn picked her up and jumped in the lake with her, then kissing her when they resurfaced until she wasn't mad anymore. Maybe they'd gotten more handsy under the water, until one of the guys called them out and they separated a little flustered but not enough to completely detach.

Lux knows from experience.

She feels a pinch on her side removing her from conjuring her own nightmares, “Lux, I said why didn’t I see you at my last game in Chicago?”

She looks over and blushes, embarrassed she’s been caught, she tries to pull it together before she gets any sad eyes. She’s sick of the pity everyone has been giving her.

“I had finals Z,” she rolls her eyes at Trevor.

Lux knows Z only invites her with hopes she’ll bring a cute friend with her.

“And this goes for all of you stop giving me tickets to Chicago games, I don’t care about hockey or you guys enough to go every time. I barely want to go see Jack and he only plays the Hawks like twice a year.”

She tries to ignore the fact that Quinn is standing by the island now, wrapping a towel around the new girl's shoulders while looking towards Lux.

“What about me? We went to prom together!” Cole says with fake offense.

“You only asked me because I make you look tall!”

She hates how comfortable she feels, laughing with the boys and making fun of them. Then she makes the mistake of making eye contact with Quinn’s new girl.

“Hi we haven’t met, I’m Samantha. I’m Quinn’s girlfriend,” she gives a shy wave.

To everyone’s credit they act remarkably chill about the moment, pretending there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’m Lux.”

“Oh, you’re Jack’s girlfriend, he won’t shut up about you,” she smiles brightly.

Lux and Jack can’t help but let out loud, awkward laughs at the same time. Nothing has ever sounded more ridiculous.

“Jack and Lux no way,” Trevor starts to open his big mouth, “it’s Lux and–“

Lux elbows him in the ribs.

“It’s Lux and me all the way,” he puts an arm around her shoulder, “Or at least it will be when she moves to LA.”

“LA?” Quinn speaks up for the first time.

“I looked at some schools down there, it’s a maybe.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal but feels a little smug that Quinn is so curious.

“I’m still lobbying for Princeton or Columbia,” Jack says.

“Just what Lux needs, you within driving distance all year round,” Ellen chides her middle son, “Quinn why don’t you start grilling the hamburgers.”

Quinn and Ellen head outside carrying some food supplies. Samantha thinks about staying for a second but everyone else must have a weird fake smile like Lux, because she mirrors the smile before following her boyfriend outside.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Lux pinches Trevor on the shoulder where she can tell a sunburn is coming in.

“Ow fuck!”

“What the hell was that?”

“I wanted to help out, make Quinny jealous,” Lux furrows her brows at him, “It was working for a bit.”

“Did I ask for your help?”

“No, but you looked like you could use a win,” he shrugs.

She looks around at the other guys, they aren’t really making eye contact. She realizes she doesn’t just feel like a pathetic loser, she must look like one too.

She picks up the vegetables she sliced and carries them outside, determined to show them that she’s not broken. Even if that’s not true.

People start trickling in and it starts to become a real party. She mingles with some girls she’s met in previous summers who live in cabins nearby. She even talks to Samantha when she looks a little lost as people start interrogating Quinn about hockey.

In another life Lux and Samantha would be great friends. Lux hates her a little for that. And she drinks a little too much in response.

A haze fills her peripherals, she’s wobbly on her feet but not quite to the level of falling over or getting sick.

“Quinny!” Lux and Samantha say in the same tone when he comes by with a cup of water handing it over to his girlfriend like he used to do for Lux.

“Why didn’t you tell me how great Lux was?” Samantha says a bit too loud and too fast, “I would have made my plans to overlap with her more.”

Quinn awkwardly laughs and raises an eyebrow to Lux.

“What can I say? I’m very lovable. You know that Q,” she feels herself try to wink, but it’s not quite right.

“Luxy come be my pong partner, I need someone to drink for me,” Luke helps the girl out of the chair, he’s not allowed to heavily drink while his parents are around.

“I don’t think she needs to drink more,” Quinn warns.

“That’s none of your business anymore Quinn,” Lux says with a sharper tone than she realizes she’s capable of.

Luke is extra good at pong because he’s practically sober, while their opponents are on par with Lux. Which means there’s not much drinking to be done on Lux’s part. She can feel herself sobering up and she hates it. She hates it even more when she sees Quinn and Samantha making out by the fire pit.

“I don’t feel well,” she mumbles but Luke hears her.

“Want me to take you home?”

She looks over to see Jack didn’t hold up his end of the bargain and is too drunk to drive her home. She’s probably good to drive herself but she thinks she might drive herself into the lake on purpose.

“Um– no. I drove so it will be a whole thing with my car. I’m– I’ll just– I’ll find somewhere to lie down.”

“You can sleep in my room if you want.”

She’s silent for too long thinking about what to do, she should just go home. Ask Ellen for a ride. Anything to get away from here. She could just sleep in her car.

Instead of doing anything she pulls Luke into a hug, he wraps his arms around her. It’s like he’s holding her together.

“Whoa, are you trying to collect Hughes brothers?” Jack says loudly from across the lawn, he’s too drunk to realize it’s not exactly a funny joke.

Everyone knows what he means, Lux whips her head towards Quinn and Samantha.  She looks thoroughly clueless, but Quinn is fuming.

Lux runs into the house, she doesn’t care if she cockblocks Jack or makes him sleep on the couch, she takes his room and buries herself under the covers and sobs.

She didn’t prove to anyone that she’s doing well.

The next morning her head hurts and she can’t tell if it’s from drinking or crying too much. Jack is snoring in a makeshift bed he made on the floor, she thinks about kicking him in the ribs on her way out.

No one is up when she makes her getaway.

The next time she goes to the lake house is by accident.

She’s out with some friends from high school who go to Michigan. They start out with brunch and it spirals out of control from there.

They’re out getting pizza, all on wobbly, baby deer legs, and deciding where to go next when her friend Kylie’s fiancé comes to pick her up.

“Refueling for round two?” He laughs at the group and tries to gather Kylie.

“More like round three,” Kylie giggles and tries to plant a kiss and misses leaving a sloppy, wet kiss on his neck.

Lux and her other friends ‘aww’ at that even though it’s definitely not cute and more embarrassing.

“And you’re you sure you guys want to continue on?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Lux gives him a thumbs up.

She isn’t entirely wrong, they make it to the next bar with little issue, though maybe the bartender shouldn’t serve them at this point.

They’re talking about planning Kylie’s bachelorette party in the way drunk girls do, too elaborate to actually be executed.

The conversation switches to their current love lives, which is not exactly the topic Lux wants to broach. At least when it comes to herself. She tries to keep the spotlight off her and that works for the most part, it’s nice to hear about her friends falling in love and their bad hookups.

“What the fuck Lux? I’ve been waiting outside for 10 minutes.”

Jack is standing over the table trying his best to look mad, but having a hard time with the four girls staring up at him in a drunken stupor.

“This a is girls’ night, you’re not invited!” Lux slurs and takes a sip through her straw, going back to her friends.

“You texted me an SOS,” he thinks for a second, “or it seemed like it cause you texted me gibberish followed by your location pin, so I thought you needed rescuing.”

“Well, you can see I’m fine so see you later,” she waves him off and her friends laugh.

“Not happening, I haven’t seen you in weeks and I drove all the way here, you’re coming with me.”

He leans forward to grab her arm only to be assaulted by a chorus of ‘nos,’ so he backs off for a bit, reaching for his wallet and taking out a few bills.

“Next round is on me.”

“She’s all yours Jacky boy,” her friend Ashley winks and grabs the cash.

“Traitor,” Lux sticks out her tongue as Jack helps her out of the booth.

“If a Hughes is gonna take you home, we’re glad it’s him,” Ashley makes a stern face, “tell Q he sucks for us.”

“Quinn doesn’t suck,” Lux says protectively, like he’s hers to protect.

“I’ll happily tell him Ash,” Jack cuts in before anyone picks at that scab anymore, “C’mon Luxy I’ll buy you some pizza.”

She reluctantly goes, blowing kisses to her friends. Jack helps her get into the car and she splays out in her seat.

And that’s how she accidentally ends up at the lake house.

“This isn’t my house?” She mumbles through a mouthful of pizza that she snuck during the drive.

“Obviously, if I have to kidnap you to hang out,so be it.”

Lux rolls her eyes, she’s too hungry and getting too sleepy to argue so she just gets out of the car, carefully because she can’t lose any precious pizza.

“Pizza delivery!” Lux yells out and makes a beeline to the fridge taking out a drink.

“Should you really be drinking more?”

“My knight and shining armor brought me to safety,” she ungracefully rubs a hand across Jack’s face, “so I might as well stay this drunk until I fall asleep.”

Jack jokingly puts a hand on her face and grabs the drink out of her hand, “then let me catch up with you a bit first.”

That’s when Quinn and Luke come into the kitchen, with Jack and Lux awkwardly holding each other’s faces.

“Girls’ night?” Quinn smirks, having been on the other side of that hand many times.

“Oh, I thought Lux was settling for the worst Hughes brother,” Luke laughs and Quinn kicks his shin.

“Lux would be so lucky,” Jack grabs a piece of pizza.

“And there would be a murder-suicide,” Quinn rolls his eyes.

If Lux was sober, she would be able to appreciate the normalcy of this moment.

“Lux can hear you and Lux,” she forgets her point for a moment, ”Lux is drunk and over Hughes brothers. Do the Tkachuks need a new friend? They even have a sister it’d be a better fit.”

“I can put a good word in for you with Brady,” Quinn snickers at the drunken rambling.

Lux grins at him and even through her drunken haze her heart does a little flip, this is what it feels like to be with her Quinn.

“Let’s get you to bed before you really embarrass yourself.”

Jack hooks an arm around her shoulder. Lux is smart enough to know what he’s implying, that’s not her Quinn anymore and she’s inebriated enough to say something she regrets. Jack won’t let that happen on his watch.

“There’s even a guest room with your name on it.”

Jack gives her some clothes to wear and tucks her into her bed.

“I know I’m your favorite Hughes,” he kisses her forehead.

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone, it’s really embarrassing.”

Lux wakes up an hour later desperately needing to pee, she scrambles out of bed only to realize she’s still heavily under the influence. She tries to wanders the hallway in the dark, pretty sure she’s familiar enough with the layout to find her way.

She’s wrong.

Opening a door she walks into Quinn’s room, who’s just walking out of his ensuite bathroom toweling his hair, naked.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” she slaps a hand over her eyes, “I was looking for the bathroom and this is the one I’ve used the most.”

He lightly chuckles, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“That’s true,” she opens a crack between her fingers and peeks through.

“That wasn’t an invitation to look Lux,” he tinges pink before thumbing towards the open door, “bathroom’s free.”

“Oh right, I’ll be a second then out of your hair.”

When she comes back out, Quinn is sitting on his bed, the side that used to be hers. She can feel hot tears boiling in her eyes and tries to make a quick exit.

She trips over nothing, her faculties still not her own, and finds herself flopping her legs out and leaning against his dresser. Admitting defeat and letting herself cry.

“You okay?” Quinn gets up and takes a seat on the floor next to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“For falling down?”

“No for us. I’m sorry I cut you out and didn’t tell you how I felt and was just a shitty girlfriend.”

“You weren’t a shitty girlfriend.”

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, Lux flinches at the contact before relaxing into the familiar warmth.

“I didn’t know what I wanted and I let get in the way of a good thing,” she kicks her legs like a kid having a tantrum.

“You’re 21, unlike the weirdo Hughes brothers it’s pretty normal to not know what you want Lux.”

He gives her a little squeeze, “I also think us not being in the same city or even country for almost our whole relationship didn’t really help either.”

They sit in silence after that, they’ve always been good at reveling in a quiet moment.

But his hand is so warm on her arm and Lux can’t revel, she can’t hope, she can’t pretend that there’s more to this than just Quinn being nice. And that means fighting her drunken thoughts that are telling her to kiss him or tell him she loves him.

“Samantha seems nice.”

“Yeah?” He looks towards her, trying to hold back a smile as they make eye contact for the first time.

“And it’s nice to see you so happy, I like happy Quinn.”

“I like happy Lux; I have a feeling she hasn’t been around much.”

“No,” she squeaks out, trying to keep the dam of tears together, it doesn’t work for long.

“I’m not dealing with the breakup as well as you.”

“It’s okay,” he pulls her into his chest and lets her cry.

“I’m dealing with it a lot better than I thought I would, and I’m the one who broke up with you,” his voice sounds pinched but Lux doesn’t dare look, “and you’re gonna be okay, I’m not that great.”

Lux gives him a little slap at that comment.

“When you do finally figure out what you want, there’s going to be no stopping you.”

Lux pulls back and kisses the corner of his mouth. There’s no romance in it; it’s a goodbye to what they were.

“I wish we could have worked out, but I guess I’m dodging a bullet by not becoming a Hughes,” she lets out a laugh.

“There’s the Lux, I know,” they’re both grinning like idiots.

He gives her hand one last squeeze as she leaves, hands slowly parting until they’re too far away to touch. It doesn’t fix everything, her heart isn’t completely welded back together, but it’s a start.

[yveaart]

late night talking

jungwon x reader

genre : fluff!! tooth rotting fluff, mentions of kissing, cuddling🥹, enemies to lovers trope !!, cursing, slow burn.

synopsis : you were going home after a long day of frying your brains out from studying but then you meet your academic rival yang jungwon, starting a quarrel as he walked away after your confrontational questioning of his detention.

warning ! lowercase intended, not proofread

after processing that you couldn't fit any more knowledge into your brain you came to the conclusion of just going home and sleeping after two weeks of sleeping and waking up in ungodly hours, your body called— basically screamed for you to lay the fuck down.

feeding your already filled backpack with your laptop and few more supplies you used in the last few hours, you huffed carrying it with a lot of weight applied to your back. walking down the dusky halls as the lights were not yet lit.

it was once again nighttime, walking out of the campus made you feel peace, somehow beating yourself up to be up the academic list made you love the night, it made you feel alive, but yang jungwon beat you up last semester, your interactions with him were either snarky comebacks that are borderline personal or either smirks and death stares mainly depends who score the highest.

the first time jungwon peaked this year, you took it as a challenge, until he did too, leaving confrontational comments and he did bump onto you causing you to drop your figure of the great wall of china that took you weeks! the moment it fell onto pieces you saw red. for a second you thought his eyes were built up with guilt but in the urge of a breakdown you left.

you would claim to be his biggest hater, for that you ended every communication with him, you strived to be the best as you were paid with pride when you were first again.

but that was last semester , and your goal now was to crush him in pieces, you were sure of that.

"what are you doing here yang? planning to break my bag this time?" you said as you tried to walk faster

"listen, i didnt-"

"didn't what? mean it? yeah sure you didnt"

"no i mean it. dont believe me? then dont" his voice getting frustrated.

"don't worry you won't have to make me think that you didn't do it on purpose" you said finally walking away.

he grabbed your arm, flipping you around making you face him. "you have every reason to be mad, but you have to listen to me, i didn't mean to break it" he exhaled loudly as if he was holding all the air in his lungs"

"as well as hating you, i never said that"

"you dont have to say it aloud jungwon, i dont care if you hate me, all i care is for getting up the list and for you to fall back into pieces" his gaze started to sharpen, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks slowly losing his patience. you were unsure on which part he was mad about.

" i dont care about who comes in the first place damn it!"

"is that why you got sent for detention then? huh?" suddenly everything felt silent as he started walking away.

"then i probably hate you so much" he said enough for you to hear

"answer me yang!" you asked as he walked away

————

"i dont get why he tried so hard convincing me that he didnt hate me and suddenly walk away when i confronted him about his detention" you complained to areum as you sat in the benches out of the campus the next day.

you were left confused and eager to know why your rival was acting unusual.

"oh didnt you know he punched the new kid who tried to take a photo under your skirt" she answered mouth full of the sandwich she bought.

"WHAT? AND YOU JUST TOLD ME NOW?" you stood up facing her.

she tried to answer you but almost choked so you gave her water, she showed you a video that was sent to her buy a student who saw it, you started running desperately trying to find him. you ran to his best friend nd riki but he told you that jungwon went home already.

you ran a few more blocks until you stood at his front door, knocking 3 times and another one after thinking that 3 was an odd number. a few seconds later you were met with the black haired boy looking confused.

your gaze went down seeing hid bruised knuckles... he did actually punch the new guy. you hugged him around his neck sending him a few steps backwards as the door closed. you dropped your bag letting his neck go.

"what was that for?" he asked confused as his eyes lit up realizing what just happened.

"for what cause your knuckles to bruise" you smiled at him, he would probably do it if it was any girl, but you still stood there in his house.

"so uhm you wanna stay? my parents are out for a while..." he asked scratching the back of his neck

".. if only you let me borrow your physics notes"

"oh uhm yeah sure, come" he lit up once again. he led you to the top of the stairs to his door.

his room was really neat, with his desk organized, he went to the side to take the notes ad you lost focus to him but instead the huge piece placed on his table— your project of the great wall of china rebuilt...

"hey?? are you there" he asked waving his hand in front of you face.

" you took every single piece and rebuilt it?" you stared at him?

"..."

"i did..." and for the second time you do something the past you would never do, kiss him. he hugged you around your waist smiling into the kiss.

today in a new day, jungwon did indeed fall back into pieces because of you.

— end —

OHMYGODDD THIS WAS MY FIRST POST :") i hope yall like it😭

[nerdylittleguy]

Transformers Earthspark theory - how Knockout could actually be Mr Smelt

....or ideas about it, anyway. Enjoy my observations!

So uhh here's where the neurodivergent urge to consume media and hyperfixate on it has lead me! Please, feast your eyes on my flow chart/ mind map of madness™.

I know the text is really small, if you click and zoom it could be easier to read. I did try to split the original image into quarters, hope that makes it a little easier to read. However, if anyone needs a transcript I'll do my best to sort it out, my only concern is that I have no clue how to link ideas if they're just bullet points (the idea of having a way to link ideas is what lead me to make this in this format :) )

Perhaps a bit of an explanation as to what lead to this?

A few weeks ago, I saw the Earthspark season 1 part 2 trailer and hey... Who's that?? Breakdown?? Of course, I immediately wanted to watch what existed of the series so far, and imagine my pleasant surprise when I heard Knock Out's (tfp) VA voiced a side character!

Anyway, I started watching the series, finished it in 3 days, cried tears of happiness over Nightshade's pronouns (for those of you who say representation doesn't matter, it does. You probably just feel represented), fell in love with Megatron, etc etc. But imagine my absolute, brain-rotting madness when I couldn't find episode 7 on youtube!

Meh, like that would stop my theory brain. Using various episode summaries I found on youtube (first and foremost this one, as it was short and had good attention to detail! But if anyone has any recommendations for other good summaries feel free to let me know), I started to slowly make a mindmap. That evening I found @transformers-earthspark's blog and the where-to-watch resources... Firefly I cannot thank you enough!!! You're literally amazing!! You have no idea how happy I was to find ep 7!! You do so much, give yourself a pat on the back and a nice snack :))

Anyways, armed with my new access to ALL the earthspark episodes (1 - 10, anyway, as only they are available atm), I remade some of my mindmap, added to it, made more points. Over the last few weeks (aka less than two) I polished my mindmap, did some colour-coding, added images, links, details etc until it could apparently fit on an A3 sheet?? What??? So many ideas from silly old me??

Obviously, I don't think I'm completely right. As a matter of fact, I think I made many assumptions and links that were a very big stretch (blame this overactive imagination of mine. I keep thinking of potential plot lines and then forgetting that actually, I made them up and they're not canon). However, I hope I made a few points that will inspire someone to make their own theories, or just have fun thinking!

Apologies if this all sounds garbled or if it's difficult to understand, I am tired and I have two languages running around in my head (that I'm fluent in, I've also tried to learn 5 others. Lingual hell!!!)

Have a good day/ night and enjoy the theories!

Also a quick note and thing to add: I wrote this on Monday the 27th (I draft just about everything in my notes ok), before I woke up on Tuesday and saw the new images from the episodes, including the one with Breakdown!! AHHH!! /pos So I guess I was right about something? And I mean... Breakdown and a theme of racing in one episode? If this is a coincidence and Knockout is not chilling somewhere in the background then I don't know what to say.

[yanderes-galore]

May I ask for Dr. Edward Richtofen(Primis) with prompt 4,26, and 41?

Richtofen my beloved....

My prompt list was used for this!

Surprise, surprise, I felt out of ideas so I decided to base this off my Self-Aware! Richtofen with Player! Darling where Darling left the game, but Richtofen can't accept that.

So sorry this took so long/isn't what you wanted :(

Yandere! Primis Richtofen Prompts 4, 26, 41

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Self-harm, Obsession, Reality warping, Self-Aware game character, Implied past intimacy, Mind Break on Yandere's part, Possessive behavior, Blood, Forced kissing, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

He was going insane.... He had met a being from another realm, fell in love, then lost them all in a few weeks. Richtofen had lost you, even after all you did together.

It all started with a little feeling, he knew something was there. Then you came crashing into his world. With that, you also managed to worm your way into his heart once the suspicion died down.

He was obsessive about you. He knows he has a mission to do, yet he keeps remembering how you felt. He remembers the kiss and what followed after....

Then once you found a way to leave you jumped at it. He was stunned when you gave him one last hug, one he didn't want to let go of, and started towards the opened portal. He felt... desperation.

"Take me with you!"

He remembers crying out to you.

"I can't live without you!"

You kept saying you couldn't live here with him. That you cared for him... yet had to go home. You had different realms.

His love was unnatural.

He still... felt you sometimes. Still guiding him like a guardian angel. It hurt him so much that he can't feel your warmth fully.

With the ore affecting his brain and the fact he met you, he became destructive to mostly himself.... His team had noticed blood dripping down his arm. In an attempt to heal him, they realize what he's done.

"What the HELL, Richtofen?"

On his arm, once the blood was wiped clean, was letters scratched into his skin. Letters of your name. His deity... his player.

"I don't ever want to forget them. They will be my only love. I need to see them again."

To see you again was his motivation. He already had the ability to go to other realms. Surely, with research and practice, he could see yours.

He bets your realm is beautiful. He bets it's peaceful without the undead breathing down your neck. He's just... excited to be with you again.

Richtofen was only a game character to you. A ball of code only meant to exist in a game. It turns out he may be more than that.

He felt his mind rotting while he obsessively focused on more and more research. He's told over and over to forget about it. He can't.

Not when he knows you're out there.

By this time, you had moved on from Call of Duty Black Ops 3. The fact he can't feel your presence only stresses him more. He presses on... looking for a breakthrough.

Then there's a blinding light... a portal...

And a Richtofen on his hands and knees in front of your PC/TV.

Confusion fills the air, the man looking around the room with caution. There's a familiar scream that makes him turn his head. Only to see you in the doorway, realizing the consequences of your actions.

"Beloved-"

"No...."

"You need to go back-"

"I've been trying to see you again! I managed to find you!"

The bloodied man in front of you steps closer, laughing to himself.

"Go back...? Now why would I go back?"

Your gaze flicks to his scarred arm. Your name is read on it, making your eyes widen. Richtofen smiles when he sees what you're seeing.

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

He grips your shoulders, you swore he could hear your heart beat. Any chance this could be a dream is snuffed out when he leans in to kiss your lips softly. The feeling of facial hair tickling your skin is too familiar... too real.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Richtofen preaches, eyes fixated only on yours.

"Does this now show how we're fated? I'd travel across time and space to find you. I said I wanted to come with you... after months, I've done it."

He strokes your cheek like you're a scared animal. Richtofen then slowly guides you to the nearest seat and sits by you, not once letting you go. It's as if he's scared to lose you again.

"I'm not going anywhere now... so, dear, may you show me how your realm works?"

His question is soft, as if he's not covered in blood. As if he's not strapped with an arsenal.... As if he's not from a VIDEO GAME-

Shuttering, you manage to form a response.

"S-Shower... then we'll talk-"

The idea of him coming here was not too out of this world. You went to a video game. How could he not come to your world?

The issue was getting him back... if you could.

Until you could find that out, you needed to disguise him. Richtofen looked like he was straight out of WWII. It would look weird nowadays, obviously.

Still trying to get your bearings, you convince Richtofen to give you his sizes and give him a modern set of clothes from a store. He didn't seem to mind. It was the start of his new life with you.

One with way less danger and undead.

It felt so weird to you. Awkward, even... based on what you two did within his world. After that, he was convinced you two were soulmates bound to one another.

You'd feel his arms around you tightly. You even catch him kissing you, wishing for something similar to what you did before. Before you thought of the consequence it would have to do such a thing with a video game character....

Something so simple comes with a price.

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

Richtofen cheers to you, smiling like a child. He'd be so excited just to sit beside you or gaze at your very modern TV. It was as though he went to the future.

He did way more than just that.

Each kiss and hug felt strange. It was all very real, hell the modern clothes make him look like he's from around here. But you know his origins.

Not only that... but he's under the impression you're his and he's yours. He thinks your dating. As a result... it gets hard to explain to others.

He's from a fictional universe yet somehow in yours.

Your shock had ended after you were thrown into his.

He's possessive, glaring at anyone else around you. You hear him mumble he hates the attention you're getting. His new ideal life is to be alone, with you, in your home. A house spouse, if you will.

If anyone comments on your "boyfriend's" similarities to Richtofen from COD, you are quick to try and excuse it.

It's just a funny coincidence! You harshly nudge Richtofen when he tries to say he is who they think he is. Then you're dragging him off, saying you'll talk to them later!

Your situation becomes increasingly hard to manage. Far as you know, you're the only one who has this problem. The fact he's obsessive, trailing the name on his arm affectionately, scares you more.

How do you solve this?

In response to your distant mind, he tries to soothe you. You need to stop worrying. He just wishes to adore you like he did before.

You used to think the company is okay. Yet fear sinks back in rather quickly. You know you have to fix this.

You just have no idea where to start...

Or if you even can.

"Dear... you still love me like you used to, right?"

[stevengrant-enthusiast]

Drunken Confessions

note: Hello!1 I'm having brain rot and currently procrastinating on my research paper. and instead, I wrote this. This is the first fic I've ever written, so please be kind! Please excuse any grammatical mistakes (I wrote this at 2 am). I don't know if anyone will actually read the shit that I post here, but I'm just gonna use this blog as a creative outlet. Love ya'll and enjoy

SUMMARY: You are sad because of Jake Lockley. You are drunk. You tell him that you are sad in your drunk state. That's it.

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!Reader (Marc and Steven mentioned)

Rating: fluff! and angst?? Kissing. idk

Warnings: ***I DO NOT HAVE DID** Unrealistic depiction of DID. If I wrote something that is offense, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP. mentions of alcohol. Established relationship. No use of y/n.

Word Count:900

♥ ♥ ♥

Drinking when sad is never a good idea. But when your friends drag you along their bar hopping adventures on a Saturday in London, you already knew that getting pissed drunk was inevitable even before the night began. 

Your shit attitude tonight didn’t arise from the fact that you were late to your work today or because your boss chewed you out for a mistake your co-worker made on a report, but rather something- or someone- else. Jake Lockley. 

It’s so stupid. You know Jake. He’s a night owl and your schedules don’t really match up. He didn’t mean for it to happen but you guys have just been out of sync lately. And before he knew it, it had almost been 2 weeks since you last saw each other. But as the days went on, you couldn’t help but feel that a piece of you was missing- like a black and empty void growing bigger and bigger everyday. 

You guessed that tonight (plus the alcohol) was the final straw, the tipping moment that sent you into a dizzy nightmare of paranoia. Or more realistically, your sobriety had left you along with your rationale and critical thinking skills, because by the end of the night, you had fallen into the deep conspiracy that Jake was avoiding you. He didn’t love you anymore and never wanted to see you again. 

And before you could clear your head of this catastrophe of a thought, you were at their doorstep. Still drunk and wobbly. 

Slowly, you give three knocks on the door and it opens almost immediately- it’s Jake. You figure (even in your drunken state) from his hat and tie that he is on his way out for the night shift as a cab driver. It’s Saturday night, so yeah. A lot of drunk strangers are probably looking for a ride back home at this hour. 

But right now, you see him. In his white shirt. A little scruff of a beard. You didn’t mean to cry, but you couldn’t help the tears that fell fervently at the beautiful sight of him. 

“Mi vida?! What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”

Of course his mind would go to that. But instead of answering, you just look at him with glassy eyes and a slight frown. His eyes are blown open with concern and his brows in a furrow. His hands are readily reaching out in a desperate attempt to comfort you.

You subside the tears for a moment to gather the courage to ask him the impending question that has been bothering you for the past couple hours.

“Jake.. Where have you been? I missed you..”

His face relaxes and tilts slightly up in realization. He pulls you inside the flat by the waist and holds you close. 

“Lo siento mi alma… I’ve been so busy lately. I’ve neglected you.”

Your heart breaks silently at his words. Here’s Jake, busting his ass on his job. Dealing with annoying drunks every night and coming home at the crack of dawn. And you’re selfishly centering yourself in his problems. You look up at him with a face somehow sadder than before.

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. you didn’t do anything wrong. I- I just thought you didn’t want to see me anymore. I’m sorry.”

“That's insane mi corazón, you know that. But I'm so sorry for making you feel that way. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It's just.. just sometimes I'm too sensitive I guess. And.. I feel like I'm not there for you when you need my support or anything else.”

You choke on your words as they come up. In an attempt to fight the tears that are on the verge of spilling, you bite your lower lip and bury your face into his chest, soaking up his white shirt.

Jake gently cups your face in his big hands and tilts it to meet your gaze. He looks at you with his puppy dog eyes that kind of remind you of Steven. But unlike Steven, his look carries a sternness behind them. It's a bittersweet look, but it tells you that he's here for you. And he is serious about you.

“No. You’re perfect for me. You don't owe me anything. And I’ve missed you too, angel. so much.”

“I care about you Jake. I wanna know what you’re up to, y’know? I wanna hear about your day..”

“I know love. I’ll come out more often I swear. I guess I didn’t want to bother when you spend time with Steven or Marc.” 

Your heart swoons at him concerning over your relationship with the other moonboys. You love them all equally so so much. 

And the truth is, of course Jake missed you. Everything about you. But for him, just seeing you through the eyes of Marc and Steven was enough. The mere sight of you gave him all the strength he needed to go on about his day. He just forgot for a second that you also need him as well. The thought makes his heart warm and he smiles. 

“I wanna spend time with you too, dumbass!” you reply.

You both start laughing and before you know it, you’re kissing him. It's a little sloppy, given your state, but it's with earnest conviction. You kiss him like he’s water and you’re dying of dehydration on a blazing desert. It’s a kiss that’s gentle yet powerful, both parties so needy but cautious. It’s crazy. You didn’t know you were capable of giving and receiving so much love before meeting these three. And you thank the stars for letting their paths cross with yours. 

To your disliking, you part from his lips. 

“When do you have to leave?” you ask.

He checks his phone for the time.

“In thirty or forty minutes? Why?”

At his response, you crash your lips back onto his face and push him to the bedroom. 

♥ ♥ ♥

THANK YOU FOR READING. Maybe ill write a part two if I can gather the courage to write smut.. As of now, I can't do it without getting into a laughing fit all alone in my dorm, making me look like the JokerTM. (I think my roommates are worried).

[bettathanyou]

Cedric x mermaid or siren s/o head cannons?

Yes yes yes?!! I think about the mermaid episodes of StF religiously, and with the new live action little mermaid movie that came out, it was rotting my brain for a while.

I'll try to stick to the canon of StF, but there wasn't much mermaid lore in the show so I may take a smidge of artistic liberty with these.

Anyways enjoy!

____________________________________

Cedric X Mermaid/Siren SO Head canons!

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

The night you two met, a terrible storm suddenly appeared in Merroway Cove while the royal family was visiting, with Cedric once again being forced to tag along

The royal family was obviously the first to be escorted into the floating palace to ensure their safety

However, Cedric was unaccounted for- and Roland refused to let anyone look for him (another common King Roland L 😐)

Cue you, a siren who lived on your own, away from the mermaid kingdom, was out hunting for a meal

Well you certainly found a meal of sorts

Cedric was passed out, floating aimlessly in the sea when you found him

You brought him back to your cave, using your siren magic to draw the water from his lungs

Cedric stirs awake, his body responding to your siren spell

Seeing him awaken, you panic, swimming off to hide yourself- after all, humans weren't kind to mermaids. Let alone sirens

But still, something in you was captivated by the man, so you stayed nearby- just until he's found, you told yourself

Cedric was eventually rescued, with him using his remaining strength to tell everyone on the floating palace that he was rescued by this "enchanting, haunting, beautiful voice that saved him from drowning"

The following weeks, neither of you could leave each other's thoughts

Cedric was in denial that he could possibly be in love- constantly saying "I just wish to thank them" you poor fool you're spellbound by a sirens song

You, on the other hand, was constantly swimming in mermaid waters- risking getting caught by mermaid guards just to see if the royal family was ever visiting

One day, you saw that same ship from that stormy night

Swimming closer, you're too distracted by the notion of seeing Cedric again to notice the mermaid guards closing in on you

Which, causes a scene for both the mermaids visiting the royal family, and for the royal family themselves being fearful of your kind

Until Cedric steps in, saying that you were the one who rescued him, convincing both the mermaid queen and king Roland to... At least let you go

Later that same night, you're resting in your cave when you see a mysterious merman approach the mouth of your cave

You hesitantly approach, just to find out it's cedric

One lengthy explanation later about how he transformed himself into a merman, he properly introduced himself and told you why he came all this way- to thank you for saving his life when no one else would've bothered to

You couldn't really remember the last time someone ever thanked you- and a stranger, no less

The rest of that night, the two of you talked about your individual lives, and the things that you would only feel comfortable disclosing in the cover of night, beneath the limitless depths of the ocean

This definitely was the night the two of you fell in love

After that night, you two tried just seeing each other when the royal family would visit on their yearly summer vacations, or communicate through magical letters in bottles- but quickly, you both realized that just yearly visits were not enough whatsoever

So, you decided to leave the cove for good- after all, it's not like you would've been missed by the mermaids, and sirens lead solitary lives; it made the most sense for you to move closer to cedric

You made your journey to the bay that surrounded the castle of enchancia, and found another cave you could renovate to become your home

Anyways

Now to relationship hcs!

Imagine seeing Cedric from his tower working late into the night, like always, and while you try to let him work, sometimes you can't resist luring him outside with your siren voice

Which Cedric hates interruptions in his work flow, but you're one of the very few exceptions

Sitting along the coast that surrounded the castle, talking for hours about your day are definitely a staple in your relationship

Cedric would also use his transformation spell to join you underneath the water at night, so you two won't be interrupted by his duties during the day

You'd show him all the best foraging locations you've found on your exploration of the kingdoms Bay, along with your favorite hunting spots

You'd also be on the lookout for things littered on the ocean floor to decorate your new home, and you discovered Cedric has a keen eye for detail so y'all always have a good haul

Cue the cave decorating montage!! That's super sweet and cute!!

Giving each other little trinkets from each other's world!!!

Shells, pearls, fossils, cute sea plants, sea glass, all things and more you would offer cedric

In turn, Cedric would give you metal scraps (to help you create tools easier) tiny statuettes of siren motifs he would buy for you, little bottles and jars of different colors, and give you flowers he enchanted to be able to live underwater

Whenever Cedric needed a specific item that came from the sea, you would always volunteer to fetch it for him

He of course would decline, because he didn't want you to be in a dangerous situation, but did you do it anyways?

Yes.

The two of you laying next to each other on the shoreline, looking up at the stars

You teach him the constellations you use to navigate the sea, and (he ruins the fun /j) by explaining how stars worked

On the rare occasion Cedric wasn't working at night, sleeplessness would bring him back to the shoreline

And you'd be there, like you always are, to cradle his head and run your fingers through his hair while you sang him a siren's lullaby

Speaking of your siren song- Cedric isn't bothered by your siren nature in the slightest. After all, it's not your fault that your magic indirectly affects humans

Nor is it your fault that "humans are fools" (Cedric's direct words, it makes you chuckle every time you think about it)

You then responded "does this include you as well, Cedric?" And he got serious for a second and asked "do you think I'm a fool for loving you?"

You just replied "all people are fools when they're in love- me included. But I think I like it." Then you proceeded to kiss him

Yes this was your first kiss canon event

Cedric adores your tail, constant compliments on its sheen, display of color, the way your fins look are always expected at this point

You compliment his eyes, his hair, how handsome he is

While Cedric joins you in your world, the more you two spend time together, the more you wish you could join him on the surface, just for a day

It takes a lot of courage, but you finally ask if there's a spell he can cast to make you a human for a day

About two weeks later, he presents the potion you asked for

You then meet the Sofia he tells you about constantly, and instantly you see why he boasts about her

You were never sure how you felt about children, but boy did Sofia leave an excellent first impression

You learn very quickly that Sofia can transform into a mermaid- and sometimes she would visit you for a quick chat, or to plan surprises with you for Cedric

Seeing the way you interact with Sofia somehow makes cedric even more smitten

The rest of that day, Cedric shows you his workshop, the castle library, his favorite spots in the castle garden, and y'all go back to the shore to chill until the spell wears off

You were overwhelmed by everything, but in a good way

After that, being in your siren form started to feel... More lonely

Cedric began noticing your songs sounding more melancholy, and asked about it eventually

You told him how you felt, and he offered to make a surplus of spells for you so you could visit whenever you wanted

Ofc you say yes, properly thanking him with a kiss

Then Cedric spent the night with you in your cave so you wouldn't feel alone

Cuddling together in your giant bed of kelp, sea moss and seal skin<<<<<

When the potions are done, Cedric lets you know immediately and you ask if you could spend the night in his workshop 🤭

Cue the ONE TIME Cedric would willingly clean his workshop (only for you)

Which you called him out for anyways cuz you found it cute

I'll leave what happened in Cedric's workshop up to your imagination ;)

While spending one day as a human isn't totally obvious to the rest of the castle occupants, they do start to question your presence and the king and queen learn of your existence

Cedric really didn't want that to happen- not because he was ashamed of you, but because he didn't want others to ruin the perfect relationship he had found with you

Unfortunately, the king and queen left him no choice but to tell the truth

Shockingly, they didn't sound that surprised???

But still wanted to properly meet you, so they asked Cedric to show you to them so they could formally invite you to dinner to meet the whole royal family

You were nervous about meeting them, but you were even more nervous to refuse a Royal's request

So you went

And while the royal family asked some... Insensitive questions out of ignorance, they were very welcoming, and happy that you and Cedric were happy

Alright that's about all I got, loll

I really liked imagining these hcs

They really just wrote themselves atp

Thank u sm anon!!

[remusslove]

Hi how are you?

So, I can't stop thinking about Little! Theodore, so maybe Reader is a CG and Theo's girlfriend, but they've never said anything about it and it all comes to light when Theo gets hurt in classes and Reader doesn't hesitate to jump in to take care of his poor injured baby. and what will I do regressed?

Feel free to ignore this, thanks for the material you give us.

Injured baby~ Theodore nott

Includes: age regression, cg!reader, little!theodore, and tooth rotting fluff

Theodore walked out of Professor slughorns class letting out a sigh of relief. He had an exam today that you’ve helped him study for the last week. He wasn’t sure about getting a good grade on it but still tried for you nonetheless.

You taught him about different types of potions, how to use them, and how to make them. What he didn’t really understand was how you could make them.

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

“I don’t think I’m good at this” he said quietly playing with his fingers. He was always naturally gifted in academics, and when he didn’t understand something he felt disappointed in his self.

“You don’t have to be good at this babe, you just have to understand it” you said softly pressing a kiss on his cheek. He looked down as he felt tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“Don’t cry my love if you don’t understand it it’s okay I promise” you reassured him. He nodded letting out a non voluntary whimper. Not understanding the subject was one reason, but another reason was that he was confused on why felt like this.

When he’s sad or happy he sometimes feels like his brain is getting fuzzy. Like he wants be a kid again. He was scared and confused on why felt like this, which only made him more upset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end of flashback ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He continued walking to his next class turning left to the abandoned hallways. He enjoyed walking in the abandoned hallways as they were peaceful and quiet. A few people roamed around the hallway’s but only to ditch and other things.

He decided to check the time as the bell wasn’t ringing until it hit him. The bell in the abandoned hallways doesn’t work. He cursed under his breath before beginning to run. He was running so fast he didn’t realize the wire on the floor.

Fred and George set it up an hour ago and we’re planning to watch people trip after classes ended. He tripped but luckily stopped himself with his hands. He winced sitting down in the ground breathing heavily.

He pulled up his pant leg and whimpered looking at the large scrape on his knee. He felt his eyes get watery and his brain get fuzzy once again. In that moment he just decided to skip his class and head to your dorm.

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

“Hey baby I thought you didn’t have an free period today” you said holding her door open. You cooed at his state, he had a few tears streaming down his face and looked like a lost puppy. “Oh my love sit down and tell me what happened” you said softly before sitting in your bed with him.

“I f-fell while walking t-t-to my classes” he stuttered trying to collect himself. You sighed peppering kisses on his face giving him a few praises in between each one. “You poor baby I’ll go get a bandage for you m’Kay” you said getting up into the bathroom.

He was confused on why you were acting like this but he did enjoy it. For some reason he felt more comforted by your words when you talked to him like a baby. You came back with a big bandage peeling the plastic off. You gently placed it onto his bleeding knee peppering a kiss on it as well.

“You wanna lay down angel?” You said resting your body on some of the many pillows you had. He nodded to tired from crying to say anything. He laid down and rested his face on your chest. “M’sorry don’t know why I feel like this” he apologized.

“Don’t be love, your acting like this because your a little” you explained to him. He perked up at your words and you began to run your fingers through his hair. “Really? Like mattheo?” He asked. You nodded humming in agreement.

“So that feeling when I feel my brain getting fuzzy, that’s just me regressing?” He said making you nod again. “Your a little baby just like mattheo” you teased causing him to giggle. Mattheo was pansy’s little. When mattheo and Pansy told both of you, you both understood immediately.

“Mama’s baby?” He asked looking up at you with his beautiful eyes. “Mama’s baby. My baby.” You said before attacking him with kisses

[elminx]

One of the things that I love about houseplants is that they teach you things.

I was not expecting this lesson to be about pests, but here we are. (It's really okay. Everything is under control.)

Last week my partner and I were inspecting the cane of one of my dracaena that wasn't looking super great. It was squishy exactly - not actively rotting - but it also wasn't as hard and strong as the cane above it (it was at dirt level). While doing so, my partner noticed (they have much better eyesight than I do) a tiny bug jumping on the surface of the soil.

Bugs on my plants isn't a new thing per se but it's Winter so there aren't outside bugs which severely limits the number of inside bugs. And I jumped to the conclusion that the bug was either making or eating the spot of weakness on the cane of my plant.

Part of it is that there is a ton of emphasis on "bad bugs" in the plant community. And people with huge plant collections are full of stories about that one time when they got thrips and it killed half of their houseplants. Mind you half of their houseplants is still more than all of mine, but I have worries.

Anyway, it turned out to be fine - they were probably springtails. We removed the soil and the bugs don't seem to be on any of my other plants. (The dracaena didn't have a rotten or being eaten cane, either) But, I decided that I had gone far too long as a plant parent without owning Neem so we made plans to go to the plant store.

They were having a buy one get one half off houseplant sale.

Even then, I almost made it out of the store without anything other than the Neem. I really want a Scindapsus pictus (Satin Pothos) but the specimens they had in the size that I wanted were very sad looking and over watered. But as I made one more circuit of the store, I realized that they had put the hoyas in the succulent aisle. (I am not sure where I expected them to be but they aren't full sun like the sign said...so?!?)

I sort of said that I wasn't going to get any more hoyas for a while but they had some Lisas (Hoya australis ssp. tenuipes). It turns out that I love the yellow variegation as much in person as I have in photos. Plus my partner immediately fell in love with the Compactas because they look like brains.

I checked the plants in the greenhouse. It wasn't until I came home though that I saw the mealies. (on the Lisa - despite the Compacta's reputation for harboring mealies, neither of us has spotted anything untoward...yet)

There weren't many and I'd only ever seen one mealie infestation in person before and it was an INFESTATION. This is a bit of fuzz between a few branches on one of the three plants in the pot. I'm proud of myself for catching it. And now I get to treat for mealybugs for the first time. Like a real plant mom.

(I've only ever dealt with aphids and fungus gnats prior, at least on inside plants)

I actually thought that I would be more grossed out.

[1nksta1neddesk]

A Court of Readers and Dreamers

Chapter 21: End of Days

I couldn’t fall into my usual fitful sleep, the usual wine that subsides my anxiety gone. Hours had to have passed with me finding warmth in the wools and furs of blankets as I stared blankly into the dark. I missed the easy access to music that used to lull me to sleep, maybe I shouldn’t have cursed out Rhysand for his sending of music to me.

I heard the clicks of his shoes against the stone before he slipped into my cell, Rhysand slumping against the wall as he ran his hand through already tousled hair. His tunic was unbuttoned and ivory skin shone through as his chest heaved, sliding down to rest against the floor. I sat up, pulling blankets with me to open a free space on the bed. Still he stayed on the floor even with an offered seat next to me.

We sat in silence for painful minutes, well painful for me as he seemed to need the wide expanse of time to let the iron set of his shoulders fall. His head was tilted back against the stone now as he let out easy breaths, and I thought for a moment he had fallen asleep and was prepared to drape one of the blankets over him before he shifted, dropping his head into his hands to rub at the temples. 

“Damned bitch is running me ragged,” he groaned out as his knees fell apart from each other, “You hate me, but imagine how you’d feel if I made you serve in my bedroom. I’m High Lord of the Night Court—not her damned harlot.” Disgust boiled the simmering rage, I was so ready to tear her throat out if only I could get some sleep. 

“You won’t have to deal with her much longer.” I say quietly , “Tomorrow it will all be set right.” My head pangs with pain as I blink, my eyes having gone dry as I stared at him. My vision blurred for a moment and when I blinked back rising tears I saw him looking at me from below long lashes.

“This is all so fucked,” Rhysand says and I let out a huffing laugh, I think it was the first time I had heard him use such a human curse. “I’m here, in a cell, talking to our one hope for freedom or condemnation and she is the only one I can talk to without risking everything.” His voice goes wiry on the last word and I know he is thinking of Velaris, of his family he had trapped there for the past 50 years.

The silence returns and this time it is me who breaks it, “What are you going to do after she’s gone?” Tiredness was starting to fuzz my brain and I leaned back against the wall, still keeping the blankets close to my body. Maybe I should request a last meal, some pasta would be divine after the months of soups and bread and cold meat. Is this what criminals back home felt like on their execution day? The peaceful fear and roiling anger?

“How about we worry about that after? Hm?” He teased and I ran a tongue over my teeth, where I could still feel the reverberation of our mouths colliding. We, he had said, like we would both see the sun again. I smiled at the thought, exhaustion painting a picture of snow kissed autumn winds as he soared to the house of wind. I hoped he enjoyed flying again after this, that taking to the air would be the first freedom he would give himself.

“Do you think he would fight for me?” I say and I know he knows I mean Tamlin, the blond highlord that has done little more than look at me during trials and completely ignoring me otherwise. I would have considered him a friend, hours of both of our fingers bleeding on strings of instruments bonding us in some way. Really I had intended for him to pull me into that closet at the party tonight, not Lucien. I wanted to use the time to warn Tamlin of Hybern, of Ianthe, if only to spare the citizens of Spring and the borders of Summer that would be ravished by the armies. Now those papers sitting in my dresser drawer were rotting away, the weeks of preparation going with them if I didn’t tell Rhysand about them.

Rhysand didn’t answer my question, rather answered around it, “You should have felt how angry he was when we revealed our little bargain, it was near palpable that first night. Thought he was going to try and gut me for a long while after it as well.” 

I laugh fully at the ashen face he sends to me, like he had been deeply worried that Tam’s claws would be turned on him. “Luckily for you, all your powers should be fully yours come tomorrow. If I make it” I add the last part as an after thought, not even fully aware I had let it slip by my lips. Really no matter what happened between now and then my plan wouldn’t falter. Best case scenario had Feyre coming back to her body, worst case left no Feyre behind and instead left a human girl’s corpse with the fae to deal with. Either way I would be long gone from this world come the next night, the after didn’t really matter all that much.

“You need to make it, Feyre.” He says harshly. “You need to.” 

I shake my head, “We both know that even if I complete her tasks she’ll kill me. I knew I wasn’t going to get to leave the moment I set foot here, you knew it too, everyone did.” This time I am the one pressing my head against the stones, communication should not take this much effort.

But he is silent again and I take the silence to play my last card up my sleeve with him. “At home, in the cottage I was in with my sisters before all this mess, I wrote some things and put them in my drawer. After all of this go there, for me at least, and read the things I wrote.” I stare up at the wet stones, the fire light glinting off them like flickering comets. 

“Why?” The word hangs in the air, heavy like a shoe waiting to drop. 

“Maybe I want someone to remember me, but its my own way to help with what comes after.” That was my regret from my past life, there had been effectively nothing left of me there when I had- well that doesn’t really matter now does it?

“How will I know which drawer is yours?” 

“You’ll know.” Sleep was finally beaconing for me, tantalizing hands weighing down my eyelids. I heard Rhysand rise from his spot, felt in the shift in the air I was slowly learning accompanied his shadow travel. “Sleep well, Rhys.” I say with a yawn and am sliding down the cot to nestle into the blankets, dense and warm as I fall asleep. I am wrapped in the fog of sleep as I hear him murmur something in return. Then he is gone and I hadn’t noticed the warmth he had added as the room feels cold once again.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

My trousers and tunic were returned to me in the early hours of morning, or what felt like morning, the ones that were taken by Nuala and Cerridwen that first night of parties. The other ones were filthy taters in the corner of my cell, rotting and stinking so much I had not touched them after the trial. It felt nice to be back in my clothes, to have boots cushion my feet against the stone as my guards brought me up to the throne room.

The doors open under the hands of two white eyed faeries, hair of deep inky blue spilling over their shoulders as the wood yielded under them. I had never noticed them before, the two of them silent sentinels that must have witnessed my drunk stumbling each night. But they were silent, just as the rest of the courtroom as the sound of grinding stones echoed through the chamber.

Everyone watched me, but not in the same wicked way of stands full of men betting on a race horse as they had in the previous trials. Not anymore, not when they were close to freedom and I was the one that could bestow it upon them. No flashes of gold passed hands in bets, in exchange many hands were brought to lips or chests as they prayed to nameless deities. The only gold that shown through the crowd was that of the masked spring court, their eyes especially piercing as they traced each breath I took. Many of the spring court fae brought fingers to their lips and extended them out to me, a fleeting sign of farewell to the dead.

The crowd parted before me and I felt holy as I was brought before the dais. It felt biblical, the twisted inversion of Moses and Aaron approaching the Pharaoh lest plagues rain down upon the land. I was here to rid the land of a plague though, of the blight. I stared up at Amarantha at the foot of her throne, and her hair was starting to look like blood the more I looked at it and I was more than prepared to make her blood spray. Her crown was still knotted in her hair, looking more like a bramble than anything regal. The fake Tamlin sat at her side now, and even if I did not know it was a fake the posture was too casual, the shoulders too relaxed and angled as the imitator grew accustomed to the empty baldric across their chest.

“Two trials lie behind you, though not without their mark.” Her eyes narrowed on the ink visible as I had rolled my sleeves to my elbows. Some red skin faeries, the soldiers from her putrid court, whistled out in joy. The hoops and hollers were obscene in the silence. “And only one more awaits. I wonder if it will be worse to fail now—when you are so close.”She pouts as she lets her court laugh, it felt like laughter at a funeral. My funeral I reminded myself as I dug my nails into my palms. No one laughed along with her men, even the autumn siblings that often taunted me from across the ballrooms were silent wherever they were in the crowd.

I plaster a grin on my face, dripping with that black anger I had been refining. “Good thing we won’t have to figure out, isn’t it?” Her pout turns sour and pride spreads my grin wider, poisonous. 

“You never figured out my riddle, did you?” I didn’t respond, and she smiled. “Pity. The answer is so lovely.” I really really wanted to kill her, now, but I staved off the wild thoughts and energy that itched my skin and tongue. Only a few more moments and her blood would be on my hands, ruby red to varnish my skin.

Her red dress was already such a pretty shade of red, darkening it wouldn’t ruin her image, instead would enhance the creamy expanse of her throat and arms. She clapped her hands twice and guards came from a side door, one for each prisoner with black canvas placed over their heads. When they settled in a row behind me the three of the guards broke off, returning back through the door they had come from. They all wore simple clothes, battered trousers and tunics for the two male figures and a molted blue dress on the female between them.Amarantha clapped her hands again and three servants approached, each holding a black velvet pillow presenting polished ash daggers embellished with iron. 

“Your final task, Feyre,” Amarantha drawled, gesturing to the kneeling faeries. “Stab each of these unfortunate souls in the heart.They’re innocent—not that it should matter to you, since it wasn’t a concern the day you killed Tamlin’s poor sentinel.” Andras, he deserved to have a name, rather than just a sacrificial sentinel that had fallen to a huntress’ hand. He was the first blood I had regretted having on my hands, and it was her fault.  She continues “And it wasn’t a concern for dear Jurian when he butchered my sister. But if it’s a problem … well, you can always refuse. Of course, I’ll take your life in exchange, but a bargain’s a bargain, is it not? If you ask me, though, given your history with murdering our kind, I do believe I’m offering you a gift.” 

I stay silent for a moment, not moving from where I glare down my nose at her despite the elevation distance between the two of us. “Well?” she was agitated as she snapped it out before she softened her face and presented her hand forward, letting Jurian’s wild eye settle on me. I resisted the shiver that demanded to run down my back, though the prickling of my skin was irrepressible. “I wouldn’t want you to miss this, old friend.”

This time I turn slowly, to face the intended victims of this trial. I stepped forward, in front of the first male figure. The servant pulled off the sack, revealing young skin and sharp features. I looked at the face of the young fae male in front of me and smiled down at him, sweet as a mother as I brushed a strand of fallen hair behind one of those arched ears. He was whimpering- begging to be spared as I reached for that wooden dagger. It was heavy, like it was made from true steel, and I twisted it in my hand. That handsome face of the fae tilted to look at me, at his death, and I stared back into those sky-blue eyes. The tears that streamed down his face did not suit such bright eyes and I whispered to him, low enough that Amarantha couldn’t hear, but the audience on the closest fringe could.

“Wish me luck” It was the only warning I gave before my grip on that dagger shifted, tightening as I twisted my body. I only took one step as I put my whole weight and years of training in those woods into the throw. The blade spun on its axis as it soared, and even her immortal reflexes could not dodge as it sunk into her, just above the hip. I didn’t wait for her shriek as I darted to grab the next blade, still next to the covered female fae. The servant who had been holding the pillow that displayed that dagger must have been too stunned to move as I grabbed the new dagger. My hand had grabbed the blade and it sliced into the flesh, red spilling forth before I readjusted to tightly grip it.

Magic slammed into me like a crashing wave, nearly driving me to my knees as I turned back to face the throne. Her red hair was whipping around her where she was standing and I did not have time to run as she came at me, manicured nails extended out as her own set claws. I felt one of the nails sink into my shoulder as she hurdled us over, and I was laughing, some insane part of me letting out cackles as we slammed into tile. And then she was on top of me, smashing her fists down onto my body as she shrieked curses and slurs. The magic that was roiling off of her kept me pinned to the ground, and I couldn’t move the arm that held that last dagger as the sickening crunch of my ribs breaking through my body filled my ears. 

Her blood was running into the bright red fabric, darkening it just as I had imagined it with every movement she made. Her blood splattered onto my shirt as she thrashed in her tantrum, speckling me like a robin's egg. Her hits cracked against bone each time and I would have been thankful for me not having to be around to deal with the healing process as I spat upon her.

My laughter enraged her enough to ignore the movement in the crowd that I watched from the corner of my eyes as I screamed curses back at her to keep her distracted even more so. She returned the slurs tenfold with each impact and drag of her nails. I watched the shadowed figure kneel next to Tamlin, reaching out for that last remaining dagger that had clattered to the floor as the last servants had ran. The blade was poised in his hand as I saw the flash of those wicked talons and wings as he launched himself at the red headed witch.

His dagger that had been poised for her throat was slammed back with him as she waved a hand at him, a white wall of power pulsing as it threw him. But the distraction was just enough for the magic pinning me to lessen for me to raise my arm, dagger still grasped in an iron grip.

I had raised it high enough to stab into her ribs, slitting the lacy bodice of her dress as it slid into the hilt, as a refreshed wave of that pulsing magic slammed me into the ground. I felt my head crack into the stone as pressure pulsed in my ears, and I bit down painfully on my tongue as she screamed in pain. She ripped the dagger out with a hand, looking aghast as a new river of blood flowed forth from her, going to meet the path of my first wound to her lap . Her blood was pouring down onto me as I smiled, toothy and stained with my blood. Another punch from those delicate hands and she grabbed my arms pinning them to the cold ground.

“I am going to rip you apart” The promise was dripping with her own blood as I couldn’t resist the accursed smile of a mad man that spread across my face as I spat back at her again, her and my blood mixing as it soaked into that ruby dress. It had turned to garnet and I felt pride swell at my art, my destruction of her after all these months-years I had devoted to bringing her to her knees.

“Filth- “another hit to my face “- putrid human filth.” Blood was filling my mouth as I wheezed “I knew the answer to your inane riddle this whole time, bitch.” It gave her enough pause that I laughed out “Love, the damned answer is love”. 

The rage of her scream shook the stone under me as I grinned up at her, blood splattering onto the red clay tiles as I coughed. I sent a last message down that reverberating chain linking my tattoo to him, an apology and an admonishment of all grief I have caused him with my foolishness. There was still resentment at him for the past month but more than that I do not think I could have held him to a fault for all of it, maybe not even any of it. It was much less words and more a pulse of that bleeding tightness of thorny vines wrapped around my heart. Then right after that pulse I send back warmth, the feeling of bones resting in a hot bath or basking in the sun in the summer as I feel nails dig into tender flesh at the base of my skull. I hoped he enjoyed a long life with his family.

“Rot in hell” I cursed her with a cackling laugh as she has wrapped her hands around my ears. In my last bit of defiance while staring down my nose at her I spit my rotting human blood into her face and she is twisting my neck until something in my spine- my neck- my head- broke irreparably.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

The snap reverberated through me, the wet stickiness of blood disappearing from my skin as I was dunked into a deep ink. I was swimming- floating- whatever in that abyss. It was warm as it whispered sweet-nothings into my skin, letting me sink farther and farther under, swirling down like a snowflake, delicate and precious in a fluttering wind. But before I could nestle down in that eternity of comfort I was dragged to view my body, twisted and mangled, on the floor. 

The fae queen was still straddling me, ash dagger still embedded above those slim hips deepening that red gown, seeping out of her like black ichor. Her hands raised from the side of my head before Amarantha stood from my body, looking up at the crowd with pleading eyes as she opened up her mouth. 

“Please”, it was the only word she got before the room exploded with power. Living ink grabbed her body and slammed her against the wall as a flash to the side. A guttural roar sounded in the room before the pounding of claws and Tamlin was there at her throat as he shifted back to that male form I had grown used to. His mask had dropped in his run ,forsaken and forgotten after he had ripped from his bonds, as his claw tipped hand sunk into her stomach and ripped-

My vision changed in a blink, and I was above mountains, city lights just behind me. Their peaks disappeared in a heavy cloud cover as the sky illuminated with white lightning, a moment of quiet before the shaking clap of thunder shook my vision. Rain was pounding down, and I wanted to howl in joy as the cold air kissed at a face that wasn’t mine. I realized then , as the vision rolled to look into the rain streaked clouds and away from the stone below, I was in the air. It was cinematic as the vision tilted again and I was barreling down- down- down-

I had braced for the impact but it didn’t come, instead the dark shadows of the rough stone had become a balcony, smooth and polished as my eyes looked down at the city. I clutched onto that vision, hoping it was my link to home as I watched the glittering lights below. I longed to go back to the days where I was kept up by the noise of traffic rather than fear of nightmares of the creatures and actions I had been forced to endure. But the vision was ripped away from me like a children’s blanket and I was back under the mountain. 

Amaranth was pinned like a doll to the stone wall, cracks radiating from where a gold hilted sword was stabbed through her head. Her intestines hung from the cavity that stretched from her sternum to those delicate hips, torn out by Tamlin, who was now staggering back from the body. His front was drenched in blood before he turned. Rhysand’s eyes returned to my body then, and I felt nausea bubble up in my now non-existent stomach at the sight of the body twisted at horrible angles, blood pooling around me.

Lucien was there though, cradling my head. I was reminded of the way I held Andras in his final moments and I was ready for that smooth ink to sweep me back to my world or to no world at all, but whatever held me to Rhys’ vision would not loosen its tie. Then Tamlin was there, taking the limp body into those corded arms as I saw tears drip from his face. Lucien was not much better as he grabbed at a blood-smeared limp hand, bringing it to his forehead as he wept.

 His mask was still in place as a man who looked like an older brother of Lucien approached, he wasn’t part of the autumn brood that had watched me over the months. My borrowed eyes knew who he was and supplied me with the answer with no more than a second of delay. The High Lord of Autumn Court did not look at Lucien as he approached the body, held right to Tamlin’s chest. He opened his hand, tilting it to where that drop of glittering liquid fire dropped onto my chest. Then two more males, tall and handsome approached. Tarquin and Kallis tipped their hands in succession, pearlescent and crystalline drops soaking into the skin above Feyre’s heart. I coaxed, in the darkness that I could still feel my corporeal body floating, for her soul to slide in, that her body was ready for her. 

I felt no other stirring in that darkness as I watched Thesan approach, his drop glowing with the golden haze that had brought me home to the cottage thousands of times over the years. Helion approached and I felt the resemblance in his and Lucien’s power, enough that the rumors of him being Lucien’s father started to make sense, as that pure gold drop fell. 

I wanted to scream into the abyss for Feyre to come for her claim, wanting her to take over her place of High Lady that I had laid bare to her. I wanted to thrash about as the body I was in, Rhysand, walked forward to where my body was cooling in the arms of the High Lord of Spring.

“For what she gave,” Rhysand said, extending a clenched hand, “we’ll bestow what our predecessors have granted to few before.” He paused, just for a breath. “This makes us even,” I felt that cocky glow of humor spike through him as he opened that palm, the brightest drop of starlight dropping down to where the rest of those seeds had soaked into the body of a girl who was abhorrently silent in the void. 

Tamlin pulled an arm from under me as he gathered a drop of the glowing power that promised blossoming flowers and prosperity in a calloused palm. I saw the drop roll between his ring and middle finger, watched as it fell to skin, and as he pushed that palm into my chest and whispered into matted hair. I doubted that even if I had been in that body I would have heard it, but Rhysand’s fae ears picked up on it as though it was a chime of a bell. 

“Come back, please” 

I was thrown back into that warm ink as the words ended and I started searching for a glimmer of the soul that rightfully belonged in the body as a braided rope dropped in front of me. I grasped at it , wading the darkness as golden light shined from above. 

I was about to scream out for her , demanding that she take what she owned so that I could return to my own home, but a voice caressed the inside of my ears. It was an ancient voice, unending and primordial as it spoke right into my mind, past the walls I had built.

 Live, little one, you are more than a string in the tapestry of the world. Weave a new story for me. 

The voice was distinctly feminine as it disappeared, I whipped around in that space. My hand ran along that rope, and I felt the connection that had shown me the city, braided in with my death and those illuminated clouds. I pulled myself up, conscious to only grab at the strands that spoke of that stormy night sky and sparkling city as I went. If I denied the bargain that led me to Rhysand- to Prythian- maybe I could go home even against the Mother’s wishes. So I climbed, feet kicking at the emptiness below as I went towards the light that promised me my freedom.

I felt bubbles grab my under arms, pushing me up toward that brightness and as a bubble came to rest under my chin I -

I gulped in air as I turned out of someone's lap, planting my hands on the floor. It was cool underneath my fingers as I opened my eyes. My hair draped around me, a golden- brown curtain shielding me from the stares of the onlookers. Golden brown hair-I bought a hand with too-long fingers to grasp at the strands. A beat of silence then- 

I screamed into the tile as my hope was ripped away from me.

[eddiemunsonsdrug]

Four Tolls [Eddie Munson x OC/Reader]

Part ii

Summary: Dustin's sister was making her own path, going to college, leaving Hawkins behind. But when headaches begin to haunt her daily life and the voices in her head get stronger she needs to check on her brother. When she hears the boy she tutored years ago is facing allegations of murder, she starts a new path. Back to Hawkins

Pairing: so I gave the reader a name as I didn't want to write Y/N for this, but other than that it is a reader insert

Words: 1500 or so

A/N: So this is my first Eddie fic, not sure how many parts it will be but, I have so much brewing so I hope you stick with me through this first chapter as its all just set up. I really hope you guys like this, I appreciate any feedback.

Warnings: nosebleeds, passing out, mention of murder, taking pills. probably spelling and grammar errors

______________________________________________________________

It started with minor headaches nothing out of the ordinary, headaches were something that you were completely used to in your everyday life. But the latest week has been hell, the pounding no longer leaving after taking a few Tylenol. You told yourself it was just from the seasons changing, pressure, rain clouds. That’s all

You brushed off the current headache of the day. You felt like your head was pulsating and everyone could see it. But you knew you couldn’t miss class unfortunately; it was one of the last classes before spring break and important study information was going to be covered in this lecture.

You barely passed the threshold of the classroom doors before you fell to your knees, pain overtaking every inch of your body, you brain felt numb, like it would turn to rot in a matter of seconds. That was the last thing you remembered.

You didn’t see yourself stay on your knees instead of falling forward like most who pass out would have, you didn’t see your eyes roll back to your skull, you didn’t feel the nosebleed drip down your lips to your chin.

You’ve never passed out before, not from drinking, not from pain, not from a simple headache so you had no clue if it was normal for everything to be black but for your brain to be running. Your eyes felt like they were darting around the emptiness of your head. It made you uncomfortable being in this nothingness, it made you feel unsafe.

A voice began to echo into the emptiness, it rang off the walls of your skull. Still you could recognize the voice instantly as your younger brother. “Oliviaaaaa.” He dragged out like he was waking you from an afternoon nap, his voice soft and comforting.

“Olivia?” This one sounding like he was calling out for you, unable to find you in the house. There wasn’t any alarm in his voice, just that he was looking for you without even checking your room.

“OLIVIA!” Your eyes darted open, and you sat forward, your heart was racing. The last voice was not of Dustin, it couldn’t have been, though there was a sense of him there, like he was screaming out for your help, or to warn you of danger. It almost sounded satanic, it was something else, something other worldly. You looked around the room alarmed as you realized you didn’t recognize where you were.

Finally your eyes settled on the sign saying it was the campus clinic. Sighing you lay back down and attempted to process the rather odd nightmare you had whilst being passed out. Is it normal to have dreams- nightmares when passed out like that?

“Well, looks like someone’s up, care to tell me your name?” The ginger haired nurse made his way close to your bed, he was holding a small flashlight to you assume look into your eyes with, and correct you were. While you stuttered out your name you were blinded with the yellow of the cheap flashlight.

“O-Olivia” you winced, the light shinning in your eyes made you realize your headache still hadn’t subsided. “Correct, and the date?” He questioned, finishing with the flashlight he held his finger up to your nose. “Follow my finger please.” You swallowed thickly, whishing for some water. “It’s the March 24th.” you answer his question while following his finger with your eyes.

“Do you know what happened?” He asked as he straightened himself up, satisfied with the physical tests he had done. You looked down, a small flush spread across your cheeks, even if you had no control over it the idea of fainting in public was embarrassing.

“I, uh, passed out.” Glancing up to him to see if your answer was indeed correct. He gave a curt nod. “How were you feeling before you fainted?” You opened and closed your mouth, taking a moment to think of what information you wanted to give out. If you told him of your chronic headaches he may send you to the hospital, something you couldn’t exactly afford. “I felt fine, just missed breakfast and had a quick workout before class. Big mistake.” You plastered on a fake smile, hoping your innocent act would get you out of here without any more questions asked.

He squinted his eyes, only half believing in your story. “What about your nose bleed?” You leaned back to examine his full face, it was rather pale and full of soft freckles that you envied, but it didn’t seem like he was attempting to trick you by bluffing about this. “Oh, my nose bleeds when seasons change.” You fibbed. “You know, it’s a little dry and I’m an open faucet.”  You could see his body openly cringe at your information vomit.

“Alright well, make sure you’re eating. Don’t want you back in here.” He half joked as he set his stuff down and motioned for you to get up. You slid off the side of the bed, finding your legs a bit wobbly. You gripped the bed to gain stability quickly. You smiled gently at the nurse. “Thank you.” You search for a name tag. “Ryan.” You finished, you slid into your shoes and had him escort you out of the door.

As soon as you were outside the building you slouched against the brick wall exterior and sighed. You rubbed you nose; you knew there would be no blood, they most likely wiped it away. But you were still lost. You’ve never passed out before, and you almost never get nosebleeds.

Your head lifted up to the grey sky a cold breeze blew through your body having you clutch you jacket; you couldn’t wait for warmer weather.

After forcing yourself off the wall and out of your thoughts and made your way back to your dorm.

The door almost swung into your face as your roommate flung the door open to your face. “Jesus!” she yelped jumping backwards, not expecting you. “Olivia! I just heard about what happened. I was on my way to get you. Are you okay? How are you feeling?” Her words came out you like gun fire and you were having a difficult time listening to her, you head still pulsing.

You closed your eyes and raised your hand. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just relax Nicole.” You made your way in your room and immediately laid down on your bed, squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Could you grab me a water?” You asked as you attempted to smother this now what you are assuming is a migraine.

She bragged a bottle of water out of your shared mini fridge and sat beside you on your bed, putting the water in your hand. “Was it cause of the headache?” She asked, her voice was almost a whisper as she tried to not agitate you.  “What?” you were surprised of her question; you quickly opened the bottle and took a few chugs from it. “Olivia, I’m not that dense. You’ve been popping every kind of legal pain killer on campus for weeks.” You sighed before resting your head back down on your pillow. “I guess I haven’t been exactly hiding it, but I don’t know if that’s what caused it.” You told her truthfully.

She hummed before leaving your bed. “I have a study session now but try to get some rest.” You nodded as she grabbed her bag , your eyes followed her out, after the door click you all but shot out of your bed.

You waited a few moments to be sure she turned down a hallway. Quickly you grabbed some change out of a bowl and headed down to the payphones in the hall. You couldn’t shake the fact that Dustin was in your nightmare? Dream? But you knew if you could hear his voice, or your mom telling you he was okay you’d be able to relax.

Shoving the coins down the slot and slamming the buttons to dial home you waited to hear the ringing.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

You were beginning to worry, you tugged at your hair, then a click came. “Hello?” Your moms voice rung into your ears; you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Mom.” You muttered. “Olivia! Hi sweetheart, how are you?” it had been a few weeks since you last called home, so you knew she’d want to catch up, but you needed to know your thing first. “I’m okay mom, is Dustin there?”

It was his first day of spring break, you knew he’d be home unless he was out with friends. “Well, no actually you just missed him. He ran out of here with one of his friends, something urgent it seems, but you know him everything is urgent.”  Your heart sunk in your chest, and you clenched you fist. “Did he say where he was going?” Maybe you could call them.

“No, something about that Munson boy though.” Your brain scrambled as it searched for names and memories. Munson… Munson. Eddie Munson! “Eddie?” You asked. “Yes, him. He’s gotten himself in trouble with the law, I always knew he was a bad egg-“ Something in your stirred as you listened to her. “Mom, what are you talking about, he’s harmless.” She tisked, you could tell she was shaking her head. “Well he darn well may have murdered a poor girl; I wouldn’t say that’s harmless.” You froze, your breath hitching in your chest.

Murder?