#how to teach and be a badass about it

[dumpster-fire-sapphic-failgirl]

Watching Dungeons and Drag Queens is a great reminder that Brennan spent decades going to and then volunteering at a larp camp for kids

He’s got patience for days, a “yes and” attitude that can’t be beat, he explains everything gently and simply without being condescending, and he specifically teaches in a way that encourages creativity and discovery and celebrates joy

Anyway, it’s not only a great primer for anyone who wants to learn how to play d&d but also for anyone that wants to teach just about anything

[euryleli]

I like the idea of will byers carrying a gun in s5 not because I think he would enjoy it/it would be badass, but because the ANGST and the exploration of the abuse lonnie put will through is really important to me

I need it to be addressed!!

[celibibratty]

I know the idea of the game is to our main characters become an old master one day in a certain moment of their life, but one part of me kinda don't like that?, i like more the idea of after they kill the villans, they become some kinda of badass vigilants/justice gangsters, and continue be like this since they become old(no idea how they pay the bills living in that way?, but it doesn't matter is just a game), idk i just like our main characters more being some kinda of "lone wolf", i think it fits more their style

[tapakah0]

(runout of tags again I hate it here gotta bite the max ammount) #Also. I feel like Ward's perception of Oscar will be changing from now on #Yep. a bastard. a smart bastard. But let's be real. He can survive and get you out, follow him # Mhm. Cass I think I did mention that I was up for the story, because of what could possibly be in this story later # We reached the point where I open the door, close it from inside and throw the key in the window from 10th floor

Part 13 ;)

Oh no, they're roommates now?? Hope you're ready for the fluff, family dynamics, and chaos that follows~

Previous

Masterpost

[kyeomyun]

SO...

hi guys!!!!!!!

🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️

yall. so much happened in 2024 that I like- physically could not come back on here and talk to people or even write. I haven't written ANYTHING so I think I lost all of my spice to be quite honest with you 😭

BUT... about my whereabouts. so uh... to put it simply, i just needed mental time off. no not like a hiatus. like genuine time away from writing.

⚠️mentions of depression and anxiety below⚠️

so I have been battling extreme anxiety and depression in 2024 and that showed in my academics and my family took notice of it also. I basically hit a all time low and it sucked so bad since I began to isolate myself from friends and family. in other words, I was inside my head alot and filling my mind with more and more scary thoughts which was HORRIFYING to say the very least.

not saying that 2024 was bad every single day (I literally saw ATEEZ live in the summer and trust me when I had the time of my life) but I literally didn't watch anything kpop related for a good 8 months in 2024. like I haven't been caught up with svt comebacks, barely with ateez comebacks, it was just a shitshow.

so I needed a break from everything and anything to try to get back up. so I am making 2025 the year I try to pick myself up and actually pursue in the things I dreamed of in 2024; vlogging, dancing, and maybe get back to writing, etc.

but yeah... 2024... started my last year of high school and turned 18 finally (it's scary.) and senior year only added to my stress and anxiety EXTREMELY. this year is extremely important for my future so keeping my grades up and working harder this year when it comes to homework and projects is my top priority.

ANYWAYS. that is why I was gone for so long. mental health was just... bad. extremely bad. Just needed to get away from everything.

BUT LET ME TELL YOU- SEEIJG BOUNCY LIVE WAS LEGENDARY.

also uh- I am serious about not knowing how to write anymore. I havent read a fanfic since I've been gone OR EVEN WROTE ONE. so uh- don't know when that skill is going to come back 🧍🏾‍♀️

[yuuhwa]

"You Scared the Hero"

Pairing: Baku (Park Humin) x FemReader Genre: Romance, humor, action (light), first meeting Note: This is my first fanfic, so forgive my mistakes (English is not my first language)

It started out like any other late-night walk. Quiet streets, cool air, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets.

You weren’t scared. You knew how to handle yourself.

But of course, the universe always had to throw in a few idiots.

"Hey there, gorgeous!" one of them shouted from across the street.

You sighed without slowing your pace.

Three guys. All talk, probably. But talk had hands sometimes. And one of them decided to use his.

He grabbed your wrist.

Big mistake.

You yanked him forward, using his own momentum to slam your elbow into his chest. He crumpled with a choked grunt. The second tried to swing at you — wide and stupid. You ducked, kicked his legs out, and shoved him headfirst into a mailbox. The third guy took one look at you, at his friends on the ground, and noped out of there faster than you could blink.

You shook out your hands, adjusted your sleeve, and turned—

—Only to see a guy across the street, frozen mid-step, with wide eyes and a literal mouth hanging open.

"…WHOA!"

You raised an eyebrow.

He jogged across to you, almost tripping over his own foot in the process. Hoodie half-zipped, cheeks pink, grinning like a kid who just saw an explosion in real life.

“Did you just—YOU TOTALLY—oh my god, you threw that guy into the MAILBOX!”

You blinked. “…Yeah?”

He laughed. Actually laughed. Loudly. “That was so COOL! Like, not even in a ‘I’ve-seen-that-in-a-movie’ way, but like—real life badassery!”

You stared at him. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Are you okay? You just solo’d those guys like a damn anime character!”

You snorted.

He held his hands up. “Sorry, sorry—just. That was amazing. I was literally about to step in but then you just—boom, bam, goodbye, losers. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Thanks, I guess.”

He squinted at you. “Wait, wait—you’re not, like, a trained fighter or something, right? You don’t do judo? MMA? Secret vigilante?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just grew up rough.”

He nodded like that made total sense. “Yeah. Okay. Cool cool cool.” Then, “I’m Baku, by the way.”

You tilted your head. “You always this talkative?”

“Only when I’m impressed. Which is… now. Very much.”

You chuckled. “Y/n.”

He grinned. “Nice to meet you, Y/n, certified badass.”

You started walking, and to your surprise, he walked with you.

“Where you headed?” he asked.

“Home.”

“Wanna company? I promise I’m harmless. You’ve proven you could fold me like a towel anyway.”

You looked at him sideways. “You’re persistent.”

“I’m charming,” he corrected.

You laughed. “Alright, charming. You can walk me home.”

He fist-pumped the air like he just won a game. “Yes! I mean—cool. Totally normal thing to be excited about. Yep.”

As you walked side by side under the quiet city lights, you caught him sneaking glances at you every now and then.

“What?” you finally asked.

He grinned sheepishly. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’d teach me that mailbox move someday.”

[cristinacclearwater]

Au! Batfam talking about who had the most badass mentor amongst them..

Like trying to one up each other with mentors and friends and shenanigans..

Bruce is there, drinking coffee keeping quiet because he knows he wins..

Walks in Dick and Tim..

Dick: hey guys! What are you talking about?

Jason: coolest mentor. I win ofcourse, with Batman, and Talia teaching me personally..

Damian: as if todd. I am the winner of this discussion.. Mother built my base before my various tutors took over. And I have served Robin for 2 batmen. Father and Richard.

Duke: Steph and me are keeping scores, though Steph counted Tim among her tutors, when her turn came.

Tim: me?

Dick: I guess that makes sense.

Damian: I don't see what you are so proud about Brown. Drake is incompetent and had passed on his incompetence to you till Oracle took over your training.

Steph: oh little guy! You have no idea!! Watch this. Hey Tim!!

Tim: hm? *not paying attention*

Steph: who taught you to fight?

Tim: Bruce?

Steph: no like. Who taught you that nerve thing you do?

Tim: oh. Rahul Lama

Steph: Bo staff?

Tim: Shiva

Steph: How many Batmen did you work with?

Tim: 3? Do i count, because then 4.

Steph: is Mt Rushmore still a hologram?

Jason: Still?

Tim: yeah. The league don't know how to fix that, well unless a speedster goes back in time. But then Bart will have to go back to change it back anyway so * shrugs *

Duke: Wait!! What happened to Mt. Rushmore? Its a HOLOGRAM!?!

Tim: yeah. YJ had a mission a few years back and well long story short the lab was under the mountain and kinda crashed out of it..

Duke: * whisper * what?

Steph: Shh Duke. This is just the start.

Jason: THIS is a start?

Jason turns to look at Bruce & Dick

Bruce look like he is re-living a trauma.

Dick has a grimace on his face, klhe knows what Jason is asking.

Dick: Yeah well. Tim's Robin years were... Interesting.

Jason: well clearly.

Steph: i was so surprised when Jason came back to life. Like i know its common now! But then... What about you tim?

Tim: well? Secret was a ghost and came to life too. And Danny became leader of a cult of snakes. So, quiet common i guess.

[zerocoded]

summary: when caleb appears at your front door on a random thursday night after faking his death for weeks, you can't help but want to kick him straight in the knees. luckyly for you, you do just that.

authors note: this beautiful drawing that i'm using in the banner is from this lovely artist, credits to them! go check their x account ♡ ANYWAYS, the caleb post i've been daydreaming about the last two days is finally here. CALEB GIRLIES I GOT YOU. let's hold each other's hands until the 22nd comes. i hope i succeed in portraying a real mc bc i'm tired of seeing us being just happy when seeing caleb for the first time when BRO DECEIVED US and played with our emotions like that. without further bs, live laugh love caleb.

warnings: SLIGHT yandere!caleb • gaslighting and manipulation • sfw content • bad writing lol, be warned! • depressive thoughts • reader is on her grieving period • work exhaustion • mental illness mentioned • minor injury • manhandling and pining • height & size difference • caleb literally invades our home • fighting bc reader is a badass and tolerates no bitches • mc bites caleb's hands lol • others LI mentioned • one kissy scene hehe • caleb screams at mc once (boo) • ANGST Y'ALL!

word count: 6.1k

you're here┃caleb uses you as hostage at the farspace fleet┃you punch caleb in the face┃caleb teaches you his love language

your apartment was silent, except for the faint hum of the city outside. tossing your jacket onto the back of the couch, you leaned against the wall, exhaling shakily. the weight of the day pressed down on you like a vice, your fingers brushing the edge of the message from linkon city hall still lying unopened on the counter.

confirmation of deceased: caleb. adoptive grandmother, dr. josephine. cause of death: explosion – classified incident.

you hadn’t needed to open it. the words were already carved into your memory, and the weight of them had crushed you all day. it didn’t matter that the explosion was months ago—seeing their names on an official report felt like losing them all over again.

you pushed away from the counter, willing your mind to focus on anything else. the hunter uniform hugged your frame perfectly, as it always had, and your reflection in the glass windows of your living room showed how tired you looked.

did anyone notice how wrecked you felt? you wondered if tara had gossiped to the other hunters about your predicament, and if she had left you alone because she somehow understood the weight of what had happened to you.

the message was awful. being asked to confirm the deaths of your loved ones had thrown you into a depressive spiral you hadn’t felt in days after returning from the N109 zone. your troublesome heart sometimes made you feel like you shouldn’t have even been born. when you trauma-dumped this on rafayel a few days ago, he had almost hit you with his paint brush, the words coming out of your mouth too much for him to process. the painter was pissed that you could think of yourself like that.

but that was how you felt—unworthy of being alive, because the person who raised you had been brutally killed.

why not me? you wondered.

linkon city was adorned with shiny skyscrapers, and your privileged view of the city made you feel even smaller, your grievance nothing more than a joke to the world outside of your apartment. knowing you’d have to show up to work again tomorrow added to the weight pressing down on your shoulders from choosing to be a deepspace hunter.

these last few weeks, you had questioned why you chose this job in the first place. since coming back from onychinus and befriending sylus of all people, you’d been thinking about your life decisions more frequently. sylus made you question every little thing you had once thought was a virtue, which now seemed like selfishness in disguise.

the man was good at disturbing your thoughts and making you feel things that put you on the spot.

you became a deepspace hunter because you were selfish. you wanted to make a difference, like the people you grew up with had made.

you wanted to be smart like zayne and attentive like josephine. you wanted to be helpful like caleb and as notorious as your other anhaunsen classmates. you wanted to do anything to escape the feeling you’d had since birth—uselessness.

as you sank deep into the living room cushions and exhaled heavily into the lonely air of your apartment, your phone buzzed with a text from zayne.

fate was joking with you today.

are you okay?, it read.

his worry made your heart flutter a little before sadness took over your entire form again.

you didn’t have the heart to respond. lying required more strength than you had in that moment, so you tossed your phone onto the center table and ignored him.

i’m sorry, zayne, i wish i was stronger for you.

your stomach rumbled, and your ribs ached. earlier in the evening, you had let a wanderer get too close before killing it, distracted as you were. the mistake had left you with a swollen rib and a deep sense of shame. you’d promised to take care of it when you got home, but right now, all you could do was discard a few of your sharp weapons onto the floor before dozing off on the couch.

you’d probably hate yourself in the morning for sleeping with these tight boots on.

for you, the hardest part wasn’t the silence left behind. it wasn’t the way the world seemed to keep spinning while yours had shattered. the hardest part was feeling like you needed to smile, to nod politely when people said, “stay strong,” as if strength could stitch together the pieces of your broken heart.

the hardest part was the way people looked at you, expecting you to move forward, to let the memories be enough. but how could you, when the smell of smoke still haunted your nightmares, when you could still hear caleb’s laughter drowned by the deafening roar of the explosion? how could you heal when your soul was still bleeding, the wounds too fresh, the pain still pouring out with every breath you tried to take?

you loved him so much it hurt. you wish you’d told him more times. why didn’t you told him more times?

how could you move forward when you still couldn’t clench your fists as strong as you were accustomed to because you were thrown into the air and broke both of them at the incident?

you wondered if it would ever be enough, and if someday you’d find out who was responsible for all of this pain.

the kitchen candles were the only light in the room when you heard the doorbell ring. sharp and sudden, it cut through the haze and fought off your sleepiness in a second, your hunter’s bells ringing warningly.

your heart jumped, and your hand instinctively went to your side where your pistol usually rested, only to find it absent. you’d left it in your locker at the deepspace headquarters, thinking you wouldn’t need it tonight.

the bell rang again, more insistent this time.

“probably xavier,” you muttered, trying to shake off the lingering unease. your neighbor and cute colleague had been away on a special mission as a hunter. his absence had started to feel noticeable in the quiet moments.

you liked spending time with xavier because he seemed to understand you on another level. he never seemed to expect anything from you, which made grieving next to him a little less daunting. you missed his midnight visits and occasional talks about claw machines and stupid wanderers, and you wished he would respond to your texts asking when he was coming back.

you felt like it would be nice to hear his voice right now.

without thinking much, you unlocked the door, combat boots still on and dark circles framing your usually bright eyes.

“took you long enough—”

the words died on your lips.

it wasn’t xavier.

standing in your doorway, dressed in a pristine daa military uniform, was a man—ridiculously intimidating and strange. he looked at you with judgment and arrogance, making you step back a little and guard more of yourself.

thank god you still had your uniform on and wasn’t wearing some flimsy nightgown. the man seemed to be eating you alive in his head.

before you had the chance to question the stranger’s presence at your door on this random thursday night, he tossed you aside and pressed you against the corridor wall of your kitchen, your breath instantly hitched and your ribs ached from the impact.

your hunter’s awareness triggered instantly, instincts flaring and mind still trying to process what the hell was going on. your hands struggled against his grip, desperately searching for an evol to resonate with. if your mind had already been spiraling out of control before, now you felt like you could fight a thousand wanderers at once and focus on surviving with mere instinct.

you couldn’t scream. his right hand clamped over your mouth, his left gripping both your wrists in front of your chest and preventing you from punching him like you planned to. somehow, this was a professional individual who knew your fighting mannerisms and wrestling tendencies by heart.

with great effort, you managed to bite his hand that was closest to your mouth and heard his pained grunt right after. you swore you heard him cussing before his head raised and his eyes finally met yours.

your heart stopped. the world narrowed to the faint outline of his silhouette as you finally were able to look at his face. his hair was concealed beneath a presumptuous cap, the daa symbol shining bright at its center. black, red, and gold adorned the uniform of the unknown man who handled your body as if it were weightless, plastic.

you thrashed and twisted in his grip until he was forced to pin both your hands above your head, hissing when you managed to land a kick on his right knee. the door clicked shut beside you as he silenced your attempted scream with his hand again.

amethystine eyes stared back at you, thick brows furrowed as your gazes locked. chills ran down your spine. your hunter uniform pressed uncomfortably against the wall, your combat boots barely touching the floor. yet, despite your effort, he towered over you.

you wanted to cry.

the hidden freckles were the first clue your mind was playing tricks on you, the shape of his mouth the second, and his skin tone the third. countless times since the explosion, you’d dreamed of caleb’s touch—more nights than you could count. but as the weight of the day bore down on you, your fighting spirit waned, the initial rush of adrenaline fading as you stared into his eyes.

everything felt cruelly unfair.

his gaze was uncharacteristically hard as he watched you, his bruising grip on your mouth and wrists warming for a moment before you snapped out of your daze.

a smirk made way to his lips and his stupidly manly perfume set itself on your senses. another attempt at kicking him made him press himself further into you, ribs screaming from the pressure. if he noticed your pained expression, he didn’t mention it at all.

“caleb,” you whispered, the name barely audible. your voice cracked, your body frozen in place, your mind unable to reconcile the impossible reality before you.

he didn’t seem to hear you, but his hand left your mouth, his gaze sweeping over your body and his face so close to yours you could count his naturally defined lashes.

the tension between you two shifted as he eyed you closer, curious eyes landing on your pretty figure. he could swear for a moment you wouldn’t recognize him and that thought perturbed his mind for the next few seconds he allowed himself to bask in your beauty.

caleb was familiar with the sight of you in the hunter’s association uniform, but never had he seen you looking this wrecked.

in the weeks leading up to the explosion, he’d promised himself he’d never let you get hurt by ever ever again. now, seeing you like this, he wondered if things looked different from your perspective.

would you hate him?

would you hate him for the decisions he made? for the people he deceived and the families he destroyed? for the secrets he exposed so he could be at advantage and fight for you from a more privileged position?

would you hate him for wanting you all to himself and sharing the same fate as him as a human experiment? for wanting to take you to the ever base and expose you to everyone right before killing them? for being the demise of your life but still wanting to keep you as close as possible?

would you still love him after he told you all of the wrongings he did to make things right for you and him?, he wondered.

the look in your eyes told him no, and because of that, his grip on your pinned hands loosened, the silence between you two remaining charged with tension. he saw the exact moment reality crashed down on you. your gaze faltered, and for a moment, you looked like you were going to cry.

he would hate to see you cry because of him, even though deep down he knew how lovely you looked while pouring your eyes out. he have seen it a thousand times before. caleb wanted to make you cry in other circumstances, not right now.

his lips pressed into a forced smile, and your breath hitched as his eyes shone faintly in the dim light of the kitchen candles. though the light wasn’t very effective, the touch of his gloved hand was enough to confirm the truth: this wasn’t a fucking stranger.

caleb felt when you stopped fighting and caved into his touch, scared to death. he let go of your mouth and stared right at your lips.

“no,” you muttered, shaking your head as if to clear a hallucination. your hands remained bound, your feet still searching for the floor. “this can’t be true.”

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “it’s me.” his voice was calm, too familiar, too real. too cruel.

your body trembled with his tone, his breath fanning on your cheeks while your eyes scanned his. it felt wrong to say anything at the moment, fear still there in your eyes.

your body snapped into action, reality slamming into you like a tidal wave. you raised your knee, aiming to knock him off balance, desperate to banish the ghost standing in your kitchen.

but the colonel moved faster.

his hand shot out, catching your leg with unnerving precision. before you could react, he hoisted you over his shoulder effortlessly.

you stumbled, panic surging through your veins. your instincts screamed at you to fight, to move, to do something.

“let me go” you demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts fear and fury, punching his back in a futile attempt to stop him. “who are you? who sent you?”

“i came to see you,” he said simply, his voice steady and unnervingly calm. his eyes darted around the apartment, scanning every corner like a predator assessing its prey. “you didn’t think i’d stay away forever, did you?”

why did he sound so smug and heartless? it pissed you off.

realization set heavy on your shoulders—did he... did he fake his own death?

“you’re a fucking asshole.” you didn’t care that this man was more than six feet tall or that he wore a military uniform of all things, you kicked and screamed as much as you could after he threw you onto the couch—the very place you’d landed earlier that evening.

the moment he released you, you inched toward the center table where your spare weapon was stashed.

caleb’s smile faltered, replaced by something darker. his voice dropped, softer but laced with unsettling intensity. “i hope you cooperate from now on, pipsqueak.”

the words sent a chill down your spine.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” you spat, pistol in hand, ready to aim.

his gaze flicked to your movement, and before you could react, he was there. his hand closed around your wrist, pinning it to the couch with a force that made you gasp.

“you’re not going to hurt me, pipsqueak,” he murmured, his tone almost teasing, though the intensity in his purple eyes told a different story. “i’d never hurt you. you know that.”

you struggled against his grip, your heart pounding as fear twisted into anger. “let me go, caleb.”

“not until you listen,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “will you stop fighting and thrashing around? i need to see if you are ready”

“ready for what?” you spat, your voice trembling with rage.

“for us,” he said simply, his tone calm, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

your breath hitched as his words sank in, the weight of them pressing down on you like a storm. “what the hell is ‘us’? you died. i watched you fucking die, asshole.”

he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing yours, his voice a low whisper. “and i came back—for you.”

the weight of his presence, his words, was suffocating. for a moment, you froze, your mind racing for a way out.

it sounded so intimate, so romantically unsettling having him above you and saying things that made your heart clench. you hoped the hurt in your eyes was visible to the man. you hoped he still had sympathy and felt guilt somewhere underneath that uniform.

caleb stepped back, releasing your wrist but still blocking your path, his expression softening slightly as he examined you. “i need you to be quiet until i can tell you everything.”

“who do you think you are? you filthy liar”. 

caleb’s gaze flickered as your words hung between you, unspoken accusations slicing through the air like shards of glass. he shifted his weight, his broad frame now more a shadow than a presence in the dim room. for a moment, it seemed like he might say something—anything—but instead, he exhaled, a quiet sound that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies.

"you look as pretty as always, princess", his whisper reached your ears and you felt a wave of anger wash over you.

"i don't know what you did to caleb, but right now is not the time for games". you spat the words with disgust.

"you think you know anything?" he asked, voice low but steady. his eyes, catching the faint glow of the candlelight, held yours. he looked scary above you. 

"you think that you are right?," you bit back, the ache in your ribs forgotten under the pressure of the moment. "faking a death isn’t something i take lightly in my books”.

his jaw tightened, the faintest tremor in his hand betraying him as he sighed. the silence stretched again, taut and heavy, before he finally spoke. “trust me to take care of you as i always did, pipsqueak, i just need more cooperation from you this time. i needed to do that so I could've gotten rid of josephine”.

the vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, stealing whatever biting retort was forming on your tongue. you searched his face, the faint scars etched into his skin, the weariness in his eyes. "what the fuck did you just say?" you said softly, your voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. 

caleb’s expression shifted as he saw the tense tone of your voice, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. regret? anger? it was gone too fast to tell. "i said what i said," he replied, his tone measured, almost calm—too calm. "josephine was a threat. she had to go, and i handled it and you should put this in your mind and move on."

"you handled it?" the words came out as a growl. the disbelief, the rage, the grief—it all boiled over. "you’re talking about the woman who raised me, caleb. who raised you. and you expect me to just—what—trust that you had your reasons? that it’s fine because you handled it?"

you got up from the sofa and watched him tower over you once again, not being afraid to fight him out of your house this time. you took a step further and watched the surprise on his face mix with a hint of mischief.

"you must have lost your mind, who the fuck sent you here? answer me." you asked, your voice sharper now, frustration spilling over.

he stepped closer, the shadow he cast stretching long across the dim room. his voice dropped, soft but firm, the kind of tone that brooked no argument. "the sooner you accept the truth, the easier all of this will turn out for you. josephine was a loose thread that could put you at harm and, trust me, i won’t let anything or anyone put you at risk."

"shut up," you snapped, your hands shaking as they clenched into fists. "don’t you dare put this on her. don’t you dare tell me you did this for me." you pushed him with force until he stumbled back a little, eyes on you the entire time. still, he didn’t react. so you pushed yourself past him, pacing to the other side of the room as if distance could lessen the fury building inside you. "you’re out of your fucking mind if you think i’m going anywhere with you. you—i… i mourned you, caleb".

caleb turned, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locking onto yours. "you don’t have a choice," he said simply. "if you want a chance of surviving, you’ll accompany me to the farspace fleet so you can prove to me that you are not a threat, this isn’t a quest, Y/N.”

"stop acting like you’re my savior," you shouted, spinning to face him. "you lied to me, faked your death, and now you show up here, in my home, telling me what to do? you’ve lost the right to give me orders, caleb. i don’t have to prove you shit"

his eyes narrowed, and for a moment, something like frustration flashed across his face. "you’re impossible," he muttered, more to himself than to you. “don’t make me take you by force, princess, this is already hard enough for me”.

his presence felt heavier now, more intimidating and more overwhelming. “hear me out on this one, pipsqueak, i can see why you’re upset but here it’s not the right place to talk about this. i promise i’ll explain it later”.

caleb’s gaze didn’t waver, feelings too strong for him to back down.

“you think i trust you wholeheartedly as well? don’t you think i know about what you’re capable to do, what weapon they made you become?”, he questioned, raising more questions about your past to the surface.

you hesitated, your chest heaving as you glared at him, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to run, to do anything but listen.

“you think i don’t know what you’re capable of? you’ve got every right to hate me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re in danger and i’m the only one who can keep you alive.”

he stepped closer, his boots echoing softly against the tiled kitchen floor, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with your unease. the space between you vanished with every deliberate step he took, and before you realized it, the cool edge of the counter pressed against your back.

“i came here to get you so i can protect you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost tender, though his eyes burned with something far less kind. “won’t you trust me, pipsqueak?”

you swallowed hard, your ribs aching as the tension tightened around you like a vice. the pain flared again on your right side, but you forced it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your weakness. caleb’s arms came up, caging you between them, his palms braced on the counter on either side of you. his breath was warm against your skin, the faint scent of mossy perfume and something metallic clinging to him.

his amethystine eyes locked onto yours, drawing you in and daring you to look away. “josephine wasn’t innocent,” he murmured, the words deliberate, each one cutting deeper than the last. “she was the only way left they could get to you easily. so i had to get rid of her.”

the shock and fury bubbling in your chest clawed their way to the surface, but before you could lash out, he moved. slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands, his movements calm but weighted with unspoken meaning. his right hand hovered between your bodies as he tugged off his glove, revealing cold, gleaming metal where flesh once was.

your breath hitched, your eyes widening despite yourself. the intricate machinery of his prosthetic glinted dully in the dim light, a jarring contrast to the warmth of his other hand still braced beside you.

“i didn’t get out of there without paying a price,” he continued, his tone dipping lower, the faintest hint of bitterness creeping into his words. “if that makes you feel better.”

the sight of the metal, the weight of his confession, sent your mind reeling. you wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the fury that kept you standing, but the cracks in his armor—the familiar of his voice, the faint tremor in his hand—made it harder to breathe.

“turns out i gave them everything they wanted to have even more control over my body,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, studying your reaction like a predator watching prey. “you’re not the only ever victim in this room, princess, don't you see?”

his words hit like a punch to the gut, the nickname twisting something deep inside you. your eyes burned, the sting of unshed tears making your vision blur. compassion clawed its way forward, fighting against the iron grip of your fury.

he leaned closer, his voice softening, wrapping around you like a velvet noose. “don’t you see now? i’m your only way out. only i can make you safe, princess.” his head tilted slightly, his gaze piercing through the layers of anger and fear you’d built around yourself. “why don’t you see it?”

the way he said it—like it was inevitable, like you were foolish for resisting—sent a fresh wave of defiance coursing through you. your fingers twitched at your sides, curling into fists. the tears threatening to spill were not ones of submission but of frustration, of fury that he could twist your pain and vulnerability into leverage.

your hands trembled as you shoved against his chest, trying to create even an inch of space between you. “you’re the danger here, caleb.”

his expression hardened, though the faintest flicker of something else—hurt? regret?—crossed his features. he caught your wrists before you could push him further, his grip firm but not painful, his proximity suffocating.

“i won’t let you go this time,” he said, his voice quieter now, the sharp edge replaced with something closer to desperation. his eyes seemed to ignore every red signal your body emitted. “what are you afraid of, pipsqueak? c'mon, it’s me, caleb”.

the charged silence that followed was unbearable, the tension between you a living, breathing thing. the weight of his words, the intensity in his gaze—it all felt too much, too close, and yet not close enough.

“answer me.”, he demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. “you need me, Y/N.”

you wanted to scream, to shove him back, to wipe that look of control and simmering frustration off his face, but the words stuck in your throat. it wasn’t fear keeping you quiet—it was the truth you didn’t want to admit. the truth you couldn’t admit.

“you don’t get to do this,” you managed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “you don’t get to leave me, fake your death, and then come back like nothing happened. like i’m supposed to just—just fall in line and listen to you.”

his lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. instead, he exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as his grip on your wrists loosened ever so slightly. “i didn’t come back for you to listen,” he said, his tone soft but laced with an edge of frustration. “i came back to make sure you survive. with me.”

“you are crazy” you spat, shaking your head as you finally yanked your hands free from his grasp. “i don't know why you changed so much. you call this survival? being hunted, manipulated, dragged into whatever mess you’ve made? that’s not survival, caleb. that’s hell.”

“didn’t you want answers?!” he snaps, his voice cutting through the charged silence like a whip. his tone is sharp, frustration crackling in the air between you. for a moment, you flinched at his tone. “answers about your past, about granny, about the aether core that lives inside of you?”. he motions for your chest and you lean away from him.

caleb throws his daa hat on the floor and runs his gloved hand over his hair, desperation clinging into his actions. a move you were so used to seeing him doing as a teenager now seemed to paint his figure as someone totally different.

“guess what,” he continues, stepping closer, his boots scraping against the floor as the small space between you shrinks to nothing. “i’m the only one who can give you that.”

your back hits the counter again, the cold surface biting through your shirt as his presence looms over you. his hands grip the edge of the counter on either side of you, boxing you in, and his voice drops lower, quieter, but no less intense. “i know you’ve been looking for the truth. don’t pretend you haven’t. every decision you’ve made, every risk you’ve taken, it’s all been for answers.”

the weight of his words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, as if the walls of the apartment were closing in. his voice, low and deliberate, carried the kind of certainty that felt like a blade against your resolve. you hated that he knew so much, hated the way his presence seemed to draw out every buried question, every lingering doubt you’d tried so hard to silence.

the truth of it stung more than you wanted to admit. because it was true—wasn’t it? every decision, every desperate move you’d made since josephine’s death had been about finding the missing pieces. about understanding why your life felt like a jigsaw puzzle with crucial parts deliberately torn away.

you grew up with people like zayne and caleb so you’d become the best version of yourself. still, you felt unworthy of everything you have ever achieved.

you were... at a loss of words.

your ribs screamed in pain against the counter, the cold seeping through your shirt and grounding you in the moment. you wanted to push him away, to snap back with something that would shatter the arrogance in his voice. but instead, you found yourself staring at him—really staring—seeing the desperation etched into every line of his face. it wasn’t just his words that rattled you; it was the way his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of something far greater than just your shared past.

you noticed the tremor in his hand, the way it lingered too long on the counter’s edge, as if he were holding himself back from reaching for you. the way his eyes, though sharp and unrelenting, flickered with something almost... pleading.

caleb seemed to be holding himself back—as he always did. this time, though, you were not sure if you wanted him to break and consume you or to let you go and forget the two of you. this was the first time in your life where you felt close enough to the truth, close enough to calm the storm of questions in your mind. still, your grip on your ego seemed to be as tight as ever.

everything felt unfair because you were oh so tired. since onychinus, sylus and the aether core, your mind has been settled into finding answers of questions that were never asked in the first place. you were running in circles and you dreamed every night about how you missed caleb. how you knew he would guide you into the right path if he was alive at the moment.

now that he was here, something felt uncharacteristically right for the first time in weeks.

you need me, he said.

it was a bold statement, a manipulative one, but the worst part was the whisper of doubt it planted in your mind. what if he’s right? what if caleb, with all his possessive behavior, really did have the answers you’d been chasing? could you afford to ignore him—risk losing whatever truth he claimed to hold—just because you didn’t trust him right now? just because his posture changed and his eyes seemed a little darker?

had you the privilege of saying no to him?

you have always been so weak for him, haven't you?

your gaze dropped to his gloved hand, still gripping the counter, then to the hat he’d thrown carelessly onto the floor. there was something raw about the gesture, something that pulled at a part of you you’d long thought buried. it was the same caleb you remembered, the one who’d run his hands through his hair in frustration when things didn’t go his way, but now there was a hardness to him, an edge that made him almost unrecognizable.

he leaned in slightly, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. caleb’s hands cradled your face with an unsettling gentleness, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to memorize every inch of your skin. his breath, warm and steady, fanned over your face, and the proximity made your pulse race despite every instinct screaming at you to pull away.

“do as i say, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of honeyed persuasion and steel. “you know deep down that i’m right.”

you hated how easily he saw through you, how his words made your chest tighten with the weight of unspoken truths. but there was a flicker of something else now—a sliver of curiosity, of reluctant consideration.

you stayed in silence.

“you’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the words were meant for no one but you. “what are you afraid of, princess? me?”.

his breath fanned over your cheek, the tension between you felt alive, electric, as if the air itself buzzed with anticipation. caleb’s hands cradled your face with a deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing your jawline like he was afraid you’d shatter under his touch. his thumbs traced lazy circles just below your cheekbones, sending faint shivers rippling down your spine.

caleb was very meticulous about the way he touched you. his words—carved in desperation just for you. he brushed away the tears you were shedding, breath in synch with yours as if he wanted for you to share your burden with him.

his thumb brushed against your skin, warm and steady, the faintest hint of mint and wood lingering in the space between you. the closeness made your pulse quicken, the steady rhythm in your chest now erratic and impossible to ignore. his forehead almost touched yours, his lips dangerously close but not quite there, as if he were savoring the moment, drawing it out until the anticipation was unbearable.

you gripped his forearms, confused at the needy feeling clawing its way out of your chest, the longing for closeness and safety that your brain always seemed to tie with the body in front of you. the tenderness he reserved only for you made your heart flutter despite the cruel truths and harsh words that had passed between you.

“what are you afraid of, princess?” he murmured again, his voice impossibly soft, like a velvet thread weaving its way into your thoughts. “it’s just me.”

the way he said it—low and intimate, like he was speaking to the deepest parts of you—made your knees weak.

his metal hand slid down from your face, the cool pads of his fingers brushing over the curve of your neck and coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. the weight was grounding, steadying, but it also sent sparks racing across your skin. the meaning behind his touch was at odds with the coldness of his prosthetic; it felt like both a tether and a promise.

you wondered if he was using his evol against you, manipulating your emotions, or if it was just your stupid, traitorous heart making you feel like you were floating.

your breaths came shallow and uneven as the tension between you thickened, palpable and inescapable. his gaze flickered to your lips, the intensity in his eyes making your stomach twist with anticipation. you hated how much you noticed the way he leaned closer, the way his presence filled every inch of the space around you, until there was nothing left but him.

“you don’t have to be scared of me,” he said softly, his lips brushing the words into the air between you. “i’d never hurt you.”

the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think of a reason to stop him, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours, slow and deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. the kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide, waiting to see if you would break the moment or lean into it. and for a heartbeat, you froze, the shock of it rooting you in place.

but the tenderness of his kiss, the way his hand tightened slightly on your shoulder as if to steady himself, drew you in. your fingers curled into his forearms, no longer in protest but in something closer to surrender, the heat of his closeness chasing away the cold air of the room. you felt something stir deep inside you when you felt the dips of his muscles underneath his uniform.

when did he became so big?

the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a mix of urgency and restraint, as though he were holding back a tidal wave of emotion. you felt the shift in him—the desperation, the longing he’d tried to bury under layers of control. it poured out now, raw and unguarded, and it pulled something equally raw from within you.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and uneven. his hands stayed where they were, steadying you as much as himself, and for a moment, the silence between you felt heavier than any words could.

“just me,” he whispered again, his voice breaking slightly, as if he needed you to believe it as much as he did.

author’s note: want to cry more while reading? listen to remember me by d4vd and tell me that this song doesn't describe mc and caleb perfectly. SORRY FOR THE POOR ENDING, i'll make a part two of this post soon, follow me to get updated when i post or just check my masterpost from time to time :) send me a request • my masterpost

[misswynters]

Found family

sevika x gn!reader

short drabble.

synopsis. After a fight that resulted in casualties, a child was left alone. Parentless. Seeing yourself in the poor kid you decided to take them in. Sevika however isn’t very keen at first.

a/n. this is mainly for my self and others affected by the happenings of act 2.

Bodies littered the dimly lit streets of Zaun, the metallic tang of blood and gunpowder thick in the air. It was the aftermath of a fight. You navigated the wreckage, searching for survivors, for anyone who might need help. That’s when you heard it, a the muffled sound of sobbing. You followed the sound to a crumbling alley, and there she was. A small girl, no older than seven, sat curled against the wall, her face streaked with dirt and tears. She hugged a stuffed toy. It was a rabbit with a missing ear. She hugged it so tightly, looking like she might crush it.

“Hey there,” you said gently, crouching down to her level. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met yours, full of fear and confusion.

“Where are your parents?” you asked softly.

She shook her head, her lip trembling. “Dead,” she whispered.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t need to hear more. You’d seen it too many times. Lives ripped apart by the chaos of Zaun’s underbelly, families destroyed in an instant. You glanced over your shoulder, spotting Sevika a few feet away. She was standing guard, her massive frame silhouetted against the flickering streetlights. Her mechanical arm glinted in the dim light, a stark reminder of the battles she’d fought and the damage she’d endured.

“Sevika,” you called, turning back to the girl.

She approached, her footsteps heavy, her expression unreadable. “What?”

You straightened, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re taking her with us.”

Sevika’s brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms. “What? No. That’s not—”

“Look at her,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “She has no one.”

“That’s not our problem,” Sevika said, her tone harsh but not entirely unkind.

“It is now,” you replied, meeting her gaze.

Sevika sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. She knew better than to argue when you got like this. “Fine. But this will fall on you.”

The girl, who introduced herself as Lyla, stayed quiet as you brought her home. She clung to you like a lifeline, her small hand gripping yours tightly. Sevika kept her distance, her usual gruff demeanor masking whatever she was feeling.

At first, Sevika was… less than enthusiastic about the little girl’s presence. She grumbled about the added responsibility, about how Zaun was no place for a child. But you noticed the way she softened when lyla looked at her with those big, hopeful eyes.

One night, you found them in the living room. Sevika was sitting on the couch, her mechanical arm resting on the armrest, while lyla sat on the floor, surrounded by scraps of paper and crayons. She was drawing something. A crude but recognizable version of Sevika, complete with her glowing arm.

“That’s you,” Lyla said, holding up the drawing proudly.

Sevika raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Yeah? Looks pretty badass.”

Lyla giggled, and for the first time, you saw Sevika’s tough exterior crack.

It wasn’t long before Sevika started stepping into the role of protector. She walked Lyla to and from the school you’d set up with some other locals. She taught her how to throw a punch, how to defend herself in case she ever needed to.

“Again,” Sevika said one afternoon, her voice firm but patient.

Lyla wiped the sweat from her brow and squared her stance, throwing another punch at the training pad Sevika held.

“Better,” Sevika said with a nod. “Keep your guard up.”

You watched from the doorway, a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re turning her into a little fighter,” you teased.

Sevika glanced at you, her expression softening. “Someone has to teach her how to survive this shithole.”

“Well someone has to teach her how to live,” you countered gently, stepping into the room.

Sevika smirked. “That’s your department.”

The turning point came when Lyla got into trouble. You were out running errands when the commotion started. A group of men, big, mean, and clearly looking for a fight, had cornered lyla in an alley. You heard the shouting before you saw them.

“You’ve got guts, kid, messing with Smeech’s men,” one of them sneered.

Lyla, to her credit, didn’t back down. She stood her ground, her fists clenched. “Leave me alone!”

Before you could intervene, a familiar figure stepped into the alley. Sevika. Her presence was enough to make the men hesitate. She towered over them, her mechanical arm sparking ominously.

“You’ve got five seconds to walk away,” Sevika said, her voice low and dangerous.

One of the men laughed nervously. “Or what?”

Sevika didn’t bother answering. She lunged forward, her mechanical fist colliding with the man’s jaw and sending him sprawling. The others didn’t stick around to find out what else she was capable of. When the alley was clear, Sevika turned to Lyla, her expression a mix of anger and concern.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded.

Lyla looked down at her feet, her defiance fading. “I just… they were being mean to that old lady. I had to do something.”

Sevika sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day, kid.”

“Sorry,” Lyla mumbled.

Sevika crouched down, placing a hand on Lyla’s shoulder. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, alright? You’ve got people who care about you now.”

Lyla nodded, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability in Sevika’s eyes. The fear of losing someone she’d come to care about. That night, as the three of you sat around the dinner table, the tension from earlier had melted away. Lyla recounted the day’s events with an exaggerated flair, her hands gesturing wildly as she described Sevika’s rescue.

“And then she punched him so hard he flew across the alley!” Lyla said, her eyes wide with admiration.

Sevika chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re gonna make me sound like a hero.”

“You are,” Lyla said simply, her voice full of sincerity.

You reached over, placing a hand on Sevika’s. “She’s not wrong.”

Sevika glanced at you, her usual smirk replaced by a soft, genuine smile. “Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me,” she said, squeezing your hand.

You smiled back, warmth spreading through your chest. Knowing that Sevika would protect Lyla with everything she had. Even though she initially didn’t even care about the kid. It was a nice feeling to see and feel. The hard headed and stubborn tall woman becoming all soft and gentle for a kid who she barely knew.

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[lukolathoughts]

McGuffin or Chekhov's smokin' gun?

During my old university days, I studied Media as part of my Drama degree. I was interested in film at the time, until they made us all sit through 2001 Space Odyssey. Absolute torture. Anyway, we studied a whole lot of Hitchcock also. I learned a great deal about the auteur, the male gaze and the 'McGuffin'. Stick with me reader, I am going somewhere I promise. In fiction, a MacGuffin (sometimes McGuffin) is an object, device, or event that is necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but insignificant, unimportant, or irrelevant in itself. (Wikipedia) For example, in Pyscho the lead female character Marion Crane turns up to Bates Motel with a suitcase full of stolen cash. It ends up being irrelevant because that is not the main plot. Marion (spoiler) is stabbed to death by Norman Bates and the suitcase of money ends up in the lake with her car. That is her story over. A modern day McGuffin in my mind would be Dennis Nedry stealing dino DNA in Jurassic Park using a can of aftershave cream. The plot point is irrelevant, even though it causes the fences to shut down and chaos to ensue, the can is lost as Dennis is eaten by a Dilophosaurus and that is the end of that. The main narrative is elsewhere.

In university, I was fascinated with Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill. As a Buffy fan, I was almost ecstatic with joy to see another badass female lead slice her way to revenge and justice wearing a yellow, leather jump suit. It is an incredibly gory film, but I see it as a masterpiece of cinema. This is where I was made aware of the term - Chekhov's gun. "is a narrative principle emphasizing that every element in a story be necessary, while irrelevant elements should be removed. For example, if a gun features in a story, there must be a reason for it, such as being fired at some later point." Usually in film, the director will make a point of showing the object/device and it will come up repeatedly or later. In Kill Bill, there is The Bride's sword which is made and then shown later with her lopping off a hundred or so heads. In Kill Bill part 2, in a flashback to years earlier, Bill tells the young Bride of the legendary martial arts master Pai Mei and his Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique, a death blow that Pai refuses to teach his students; properly used, the attack is reputed to leave an opponent able to take only five steps before dying. This is how (major spoiler) The Bride defeats Bill in the end. She was shown by Pai Mei. I could go on and on about how these devices are used in cinema and television, but you will be aware of them. In Bridgerton, we can see that Penelope's feather quills are Chevhov's gun, because they are representative of a secret that she is keeping that has indirectly and directly affected so many people. Lady Whistledown has massive plot implications.

So, ZG where are you going with this blog post? I have struggled with keeping my mouth shut these last few months and running things through in my mind. It is easier to just chat in my discord and much less hassle, but it also grinds my gears that us Lukola's feel the need to be underground. I want to be a voice of reason for the fandom and not be stifled. A few days ago, I was made aware of a picture. This picture had my eyes widening and my heart thudding, because it was confirmation to me that what I had suspected and read in my cards, was absolutely right. I have struggled in the past with even writing this down, because people get so mad. I am a mother of four. I have actually had six pregnancies. I have dealt with early miscarriage, gestational diabetes, premature labour the lot. I am an experienced mother now of many years and I recognise another mother when I see one. I do not take pregnancy and childbirth lightly. I know what I saw last year from Nicola and I stand by that. This has NOTHING to do with fat shaming or commenting on Nicola's body, which I NEVER have.

It is now up to the story narrative to play out and for us as an audience to find out whether the buggy/stroller in the picture that Nicola is pushing, is a McGuffin - irrelevant. I saw someone say it might be a doggy stroller. Sigh, sure Jan. Or she could be pushing her sister's baby around Dublin. It is possible, but why are all her friends there that particular weekend? Where is her sister? Why is Aimee there? Why was Louisa tagged in the photo? What was so special about that weekend? We have worked out from Louisa's clothes that the weekend was most likely the 5th April. Jake shared a photo with Louisa in a pub that Saturday and the clothes match. I will come back to Jake in a moment.

Or is the stroller Chekhov's gun? A massive plot point and integral to this whole damn narrative and why my friends, we have been dragged along on this bumpy ship navigating an endless storm, that has included missiles, hurricanes, a great white shark, shelves, anchovies, tiramisu etc. My question from a few blogs ago was, what are Nicola and Luke hiding in the attic? In my opinion, it is the stroller. As I said on X yesterday, if you see the picture but refuse to acknowledge at least the possibility of what that stroller means, then that's on you if a harsh truth is ever revealed.

The Jakeholes have been quiet about this. It almost makes me giggle. Nicola liked that post, so she is absolutely aware of it. It has been sitting on Instagram for two weeks literally like a smoking gun undetected until the Lukola FBI finally dug it up. Lets face facts here. Jakey boy was filming from April - June last year in Wales and Nottingham for What it feels like for a girl (I loved it by the way! It weas excellent). Nicola was on a massive six month press tour with her co-star Luke Newton. We all saw the way they looked at each other in Brazil. We are not blind or stupid. We don't have amnesia either. I can look at the live footage at a touch of a button. Us Lukola's do not have to manipulate footage of Jake from WIFLFAG, where he plays a male prostitute and pimp, with footage of Nicola from Big Mood, where she plays a woman with mental health problems, and mash it together to make it look romantic. Those edits are sickening. They are also pathetic because whereas we have actual footage from Bridgerton and in real life, the Jakolas have nothing. Even Tiff couldn't make the Cannes footage look romantic. He looked like Nicola's assistant and we caught Jake making horny eyes at a man in the pre-Bafta party. My point is, Jake was not around when Nicola likely became pregnant and I will quote someone in my discord, Jake hasn't seen a vagina since he came out of one.

I believe the person in Nicola's recent post is Luke. My very dear friend @pikanchidouble-blog has done excellent analysis on this over the weekend of the ear and thumb and I absolutely think it's Luke. If it was Jake, why not tag him? She's not been shy about tagging him before. The sweet treat is also Luke coded and the fact he loves Italian food. Jake is also at the moment busy shooting a film. Nicola has better things to do than sit alone in a hotel all day in Australia alone, waiting for him.

We are yet again back to waiting game. If that was Luke in the selfie, Nicola has made a massive step forward in showing an aspect of him. She has made strides in showing the stroller also. I love Nicola for this. There must be a reason that she has decided to show us this. It has to be part of the larger story.

So do we have a McGuffin on our hands, or Chekhov's gun? You decide. We wait.

PS. Love you all xx

[heart-eyed-love]

Cigarettes, Driving Lessons, And Hurt Feelings

Summary | Eddie gets his feelings hurt when you go to someone else to help teach you how to drive. Even more so when its Steve Harrington.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing, mentions of having a period, jealousy, bad driver Eddie (hopefully i didn’t forget anything)

Word count | 3k

Cigarettes.

That was the only thing Eddie thought he’d be getting from the gas station. He didn't expect to be getting his feelings hurt there too.

He was already pulling a cigarette out of the pack once he exited the store. It was hanging loosely from his lips as he began to pull his lighter out, but he was quickly distracted by Steve Harrington's BMW parked across the lot.

He could tell it was Steve’s from the copious amount of times he had seen him come pick up Dustin from hellfire. And he’s definitely heard plenty about him.

Ever since Dustin had joined hellfire Steve has been a recurring topic in his life. Eddie had to sit through many lunch periods with Dustin babbling about how ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ Steve Harrington was. It was beyond annoying to be honest.

It made him more upset to see you so interested in these stories. The idea of one of his closest friends being enamored by the stupid stories of a douche was not something he was very keen on.

And especially since you’re already friends with Robin Buckley, who weirdly had sparked up a friendship with the king of himself. He always wondered if Steve ever tagged along on your outings with Robin.

You hadn’t informed him that he was your designated driver for just about all of them.

He wasn’t entirely sure when Steve started hanging out with all the freaks of Hawkins but he didn’t like the positive attention Steve was suddenly gaining from people who weren’t a part of the dark side.

So Eddie took it upon himself to be a pain in Steve’s ass every time he could.

A shit eating grin spreads across his face as he begins walking up from behind. Putting the cigarette away again.

As he approached the drivers side of the car, he noticed it wasn’t the side of the back of Steve's head he was walking up on. He slowed his pace.

Shit. Maybe this wasn’t his car?

But when the head in the seat moved just enough for Eddie to gauge the fact that it was you his eyes widened for a second.

Since when did you drive?!

Wait- Since when did you hang out with fucking Harrington!?!

The smirk that was once on his face was now lost at the sight of you in Steve’s car. Unfortunately, he had gotten close enough for you to see him. 

You turned your head at the sight of someone approaching in your peripheral vision. Surprised to see Eddie slowing his walk once he saw you. You nervously turned your head to Steve in the passenger seat and then back to Eddie, before rolling the window down.

“Uh- hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Your voice came off a little more nervously than you intended and you slightly cringed at yourself.

“Since when did you start driving?” Right to the point, you think. You could tell by the look on his face he was already a bit displeased with the situation at hand.

Eddie had offered to help teach you to drive multiple times, and you were always really grateful for that, even though you denied him every time. Never really explaining to him why not, but he never asked either.

“Yeah, uh- Steve offered to teach me so I took him up on it.” The awkward smile felt even weirder on your face when it’s directed at him. You and Eddie weren’t like this with each other.

Sure maybe at the beginning of your friendship you were awkward with each other, but that was a sweet awkward, this was an uncomfortable one.

Steve's head pops into Eddie's view with an awkward smile.

“Hey, man…” Steve says awkwardly, but somehow he still has that charm to him. Eddie straightens his body out slightly, trying to make himself bigger than he really is. Steve chuckles softly to himself as he leans back into his seat.

The small interaction going unnoticed by you as you fidget with your earring, waiting for Eddie to say something again. He was kind of making you feel like you had done something wrong, maybe you had…

It wasn’t anything personal, if you could have anyone teach you anything, you’d pick Eddie.

But just maybe not for this. 

Driving already freaked you out, and it didn’t help that the person who was offering to teach you was probably one of the most hectic drivers you knew.

You honestly had a really hard time believing he actually passed his drivers test. The way he flops you around in the passenger seat as he turns corners was enough to tell you if you were going to be taught how to drive, it wasn’t going to be by him. 

“Hey.” Eddie said, eyes flicking to Steve then back to you. You couldn’t tell exactly what he was feeling. It was making you feel weird, it was usually so easy for you to tell. “I’ve told you multiple times I could teach you how to drive.” 

You cringe a bit at his tone. And you are only able to come up with a lame excuse as your rebuttal. “Oh, yeah… I forgot…” Shit. You sound so fucking lame right now.

“Yeah, whatever…” He rolls his eyes as he looks over to the side before looking back to you. “I gotta get going, meeting up with Hellfire…” He says, but it’s a lie. He usually he would be eager to invite you with but, he wanted to make you feel bad, like how you just made him feel. “See you later.”

And he already walking away before you can even say ‘bye’ back, eyebrows furrowing as you watch him walk away and out of your view.

“Later man.” Steve shouted out so Eddie could hear him and he watched him walk away through his side mirror. “That was…interesting.”

You look over to Steve, “Do you think he’s mad?” You ask and the look of distress on your face goes unnoticed by Steve, who is still looking in the mirror watching something.

“Are you kidding?! he’s fucking pissed…” Steve giggles slightly, but hears a groan from you as you slump down in the driver's seat and he snaps his gaze to you. “Hey, I mean it’s not your fault…”

“Yes, it is. He offered to teach me so many times, I just- I didn't think he’d be upset…” 

Steve puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, and smiles. “Why do you think Dustin has me picking him up instead of having his new best friend, Eddie? Cause i think we all have gathered Eddie isn’t the most expertise driver…”

You roll your eyes, and a small smile spreads on your face as you look up at Steve. “You do realize that Dustin talks you up so much to us, right? Like I’m pretty sure the whole hellfire table has heard just about every cool thing you’ve probably ever done? He told us how badass you are…” Steve seems slightly taken aback by that.

He knew Dustin hadn’t told them everything, but the fact that he still thought he was cool enough, even without talking about his experiences with the upside down. It bumped his ego up.

“Henderson said that…?” A small smile tugs at his lips as well.

“Yeah, he really looks up to you. I think it pisses Eddie off…” You let out a small giggle and Steve's smile spreads fully. You could tell that definitely helped boost his ego a bit.

“Yeah, well I hear plenty about him too, so… the feelings are mutual.” You giggle at that. “So, do you feel okay with continuing the lesson?” You nod your head. Might as well, right.

Even with the slight hiccup in your plan, Steve’s stays dedicated and continues helping you with practicing. Though, you have a tough time getting Eddie out of your head.

And Eddie is already half way through town, speeding to get back home before you guys even pull out of the lot.

Recklessly driving down the gravel road of the trailer park. Nearly knocking his neighbors mailbox out from its spot again. Hastily parking his van in front of the trailer and slamming his door shut.

He was less than quiet when he walked inside. Unfortunately, for the older man that resided in the living room, sleeping the day away, over tired from his night shifts. “You could at least try and be quiet.” Eddie heard his uncle mutter from the couch in the dark living room, as Eddie threw his keys onto the counter.

“You were gonna be up in fifteen minutes anyways…” Eddie grumbled as looked at the clock before opening the fridge. Pulling out a beer for himself, and popping the lid off, then chugging some down.

“Kinda early for that isn’t it?” Wayne questioned as he began to rise on the couch where he had previously passed out. Lean against the back of the coach as he observed his nephew. Eddie just grumbled out a sound and Wayne eyed him harder.

“What’s the matter. What’s got ya actin’ all pouty?” His uncle finally asks.

“I’m not being pouty.” Eddie says back defensively, scrunching his face, his uncle’s eyes widened slightly and he chuckles.

“Yeah, sure you’re not…” Wayne chuckles again before heading off to the bathroom, and Eddie rolls his eyes. All he wanted to do right now was smoke a joint and lay in his room and stare at the ceiling.

So, that’s exactly what he did for the rest of the night. Just sitting on the fact that you were finally being taught how to drive… by someone other than him. And Steve Harrington nonetheless.

Would you still let him drive you around?

You finally pull into your driveway, parking Steve’s car.

“So… what’s the verdict?” You ask as you look over to him. 

“Honestly, you’re doing pretty good out there, we could just do like one more lesson, just to make you feel better though…” It was nice to hear. You’ve had about 3 lessons with him before this one, so yeah, it was nice to know you were getting better.

“Yeah, okay. That works…” You smile but it’s not fully, and Steve can tell something’s off.

“I promise you’ll do good, you don’t have to worry. You’re already natural…” He offers you a smile, comforting you for the second time that day. Wow, you felt pathetic.

“Thanks, but- I’m just nervous about Eddie…” You admit. The thought that Eddie could actually be upset with you right made your nerves rise.

In all of the time of you being friends you guys hadn’t really had any problems. Sure you bickered and teased, but that’s all in good fun. That’s part of what made you like him, like really like him, you weren’t like that with anyone else.

“It’ll be fine, I'm sure he’s just butt-hurt, teaching someone to drive is a big step…” He says as he begins unbuckling and opening up the passenger door. You rush to turn his car off and hop out as well.

“A big step…?” You ask as you round the hood of the car to meet him.

“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a special thing, you know… it’s like we’re sending you off into the world…” He teases you with a chuckle and ruffles your hair.

You shove his arm away with playfully scoff.

“I’m just learning how to drive, it's not that deep…” You blush slightly.

“Yeah, well I'm sure he’s just worried that you aren’t gonna need him to drive you around or whatever, and he’s upset that he wasn't even the one who got to send you out…” He is still teasing you but his words somehow hit you deep. 

Shit. You just realized Eddie wasn’t gonna be driving you around everywhere anymore…

“Maybe I should apologize to him…” You admit softly.

“I mean, if that’s what feels right, then yeah, I'd say do it. It can’t hurt, I'm sure it’ll make him feel better about it…”

You nod your head softly, looking up to meet Steve’s eyes. “You know, thanks for all your emotional support today, you’re one of the last people i’d expect to get it from, but thanks…” You giggled as Steve’s brows furrowed for a second trying to hold back his smile.

“Yeah, whatever…” He says walking back towards the driver's side of his car. Smiling when you can’t see his face and he spins the keys around his finger. “One more lesson, then you’re off to take your drivers test, got it?” 

You smile and nod your head when he faces you. He gives a nod back before hopping back into his car, waving as he pulls out of your driveway.

You head back inside. Going over in your head what to say to Eddie. 

You settled on apologizing to him tomorrow at school. Doing it over the phone felt wrong.

The next day when you walk into the school building you wait for Eddie by his locker. He’s usually pretty slow at getting to school, it wasn’t surprising that it was taking awhile.

But then the bell rings and he still hasn’t arrived and you worry that maybe today is one of the days he decided to skip, and you wouldn’t be able to apologize.

You make your way to your first hours and through your other classes, leg anxiously bouncing throughout the day.

When you walk into your fourth hour and see Eddie sitting towards the back of the class you’re surprised. 

Wait?

He actually showed up today?

Was he avoiding you?

The seats around him have already been taken so you settle for the seat two over from his. He acknowledged as your eyes met when you walked towards your seat. But nothing was said.

As class went on you kept glancing over at him. He was actually writing down the notes the had written on the board.

Until the most recent glance over when you realize he's standing up from his desk and walking towards the teacher, asking to use the bathroom and the teacher waving him off with the flip of his hand.

And Eddie walked out of the classroom. This was your chance.

Were you gonna corner him? Yes. But you wouldn’t have to if he hadn’t been avoiding you.

A couple minutes pass you and stand from your seat, walking up to the teacher just as Eddie did.

“May I please use the restroom?” You ask as politely as you can, hoping he doesn’t apply the one person in the bathroom at a time rule.

“Once he gets back.” He muttered, writing something onto the board.

Fine. Time to pull out the big guns.

“Well, I'm actually having lady problems right now, so-“ He cuts you off with a more frantic wave of his hand as he motioned you your access to leave the room.

Once you exit the classroom you’re started by a voice next to you. “Lady problems?’ Eddie questions from next to you where he leans against the lockers. 

“I wanted to talk to you…” You say softly, as you approach him.

“I could tell, you kept looking over at me.”

You feel your cheeks burning slightly. 

Did he notice you do that all those other days too?

“You’re avoiding me.” You state simply, hoping maybe he’ll elaborate before you apologize.

“I wasn’t.” He says back, but your eyebrows furrow and he knows you know.

“Look, Eddie… I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with all that driving stuff… I didn't mean to…” You finally admit, and you can see him soften slightly. Surprised by your apology.

“I just don't understand, I've offered to teach you…” His voice is soft, you've only ever heard it like that when he's talking to you. It makes you feel special to have such a privilege. “Or you just want Steve to teach you?” And sweet moment over, tone shifting slightly to accusatory.  

You roll your eyes, of course this was about being petty with Steve. “Eddie, I don’t care who teaches me to drive. I would, you know, just prefer to be taught by a good driver…”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your words, “I’m a good driver.” And you have to suppress the giggle that wants to slip from your lips. He notices though, and it only causes him to get more defensive, somehow furrowing his brows more. “Hey! I'm a good driver.”

“Dude,” Eddie narrows his eyes at the word, “You’re literally the most reckless driver I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you going the speed limit.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I choose to drive that way, that doesn’t mean I can't drive well.”

“Well, this is news to me.”

There's a silence between you two as you stand in the hallway. You came out here to apologize, but you don’t feel like you’re doing a very good job at it. “Look, I am sorry, okay… I’m not trying to make you feel bad… Obviously I'd rather you teach than Steve.”

Eddie's features soften slightly. He knows that he’s being a pain in the ass, but he just couldn’t help getting his feelings hurt from the whole ordeal.

“I'm sorry…” Is all he knows to say. He's not always good with his words, he'd like to elaborate more on how he feels, but he doesn’t really think he can without making the big confessing.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know it was a shitty move on my part, but I promise the only reason Steve is teaching me is because he has the driving skills of a mother with a baby on board...” You tease slightly, hoping the mood had shifted enough to be playful with him.

“I can be more careful, and I could teach you…” His voice is soft.

“I’m sure you could, but Steve’s taking me out driving one last time and then I’m going to take my test.” You smile softly up at him, and he rolls his eyes again. But you know him well enough to know it means nothing.

“Well…” He starts out raising his eyebrows and tilting his head at you, you raise your back in return, already worried for what he's about to request.

So here you are on a new day, opening the driver's door to Steve’s car and plop into your seat, prepared for your final driving practice before your test. You look over to Steve in the passenger seat with a smile. Then to the back seat where Eddie seats in the middle, leaning forward, sticking his head between the two seats.

“Ready?” You ask, smiling over at him, “You might wanna take some notes.”

[dufferpuffer]

Can you talk a little about Remus’ intelligence? Recently I’ve felt it’s been severely downplayed in fandom as a response to fanon depicting Sirius as “the dumb one” and Remus as “the smart one” in a wolfstar context. While obviously Sirius is extremely intelligent that doesn’t mean Remus has to be dumb in contrast? I also think they just have different types of intelligence, and I strongly believe that basing their intellect off of their achievements in school is limiting (also people don’t take into account that Remus was sick every month for at least 3 days, even if he was matched perfectly in intelligence with Sirius he’d still be doing worse in school). What’s your take on this my balanced remus lover friend?

I don't think Remus is a 'genius', like James and Sirius might be. But he's a bloody capable wizard - hard-earned, not talent.

The one flashback we get of him as a kid, we see him focusing hard on his OWL's, despite an upcoming Full Moon. He has his own methods for revision - when he asks Sirius if he would help him study, Sirius can't fathom why he should bother. Sirius doesn't need to revise or study - but Remus is good at it.

You're damn right that doesn't mean he is stupid compared to Sirius. There's nothing stupid about forming methods to help himself learn. Sirius and James are natural talents - Remus is a nerd.

By adulthood his work ethic has paid off: He has effortless confidence in his charms and conjuring - doing most of it without incantation. He's kind of a badass: He conjured fire and a non-corporeal Patronus without incantation - while exhausted and in the presence of a dementor. He could duel Lucius Malfoy, battled death eaters in the astronomy tower, dueled while flying and supporting an injured man on his broom - and disarmed multiple people in a row with enough accuracy to catch their wands. (tbf they were children)

Remus is a natural at teaching. First day on the job: he handles a room full of kids like he's been at it for years, even those with difficulties who need extra care and encouragement. He is patient with Harry learning to cast a Patronus, explaining things clearly to him - changing his explanation as Harry's needs change. This shows a deep understanding of both the material he is teaching... and what it is like to learn. Knowing how to struggle, how to adapt, how to learn, the validity of different perspectives - that's good wisdom.

His greatest strength is his Social Intelligence. Witty, astute, cunning, sly, persuasive… Sirius isn't socially inept but he is so honest and blunt he can come across as kicking the door down - rather than Remus' picking the lock and making it seem like a natural innocent behaviour. Does that make sense...? It was the entirety of his role in PoA: A murderer on the loose after Harry's blood - and yet through all the mysterious absences, sketchy evasiveness, superficial closeness with Harry, slightly slap-dash teaching methods and blatant distrust from Snape (who had been proven trustworthy - Harry just thought he was an arse)… Remus Lupin manages to charm his students, getting to know them without any of them knowing anything about him. He has Harry hanging off his every word, despite obvious apprehension to engage with him about his parents or needs. He effortlessly keeps Harry's trust even when he blatantly, skillfully lies in-front of him - and TO him! For his own gain!!! The scene of the Marauders Map is a brazen display of how quickly he can manipulate his way out of a complex situation. Even when he is with a murderer and they all know he will turn into a werewolf soon - he commands emotional focus. Ron is injured, a Murderer is present, they are supposed to be investigating a rat with haste... yet most of the time they are discussing HIM and why HE is 'not so scary, please don't hate me' in a long-winded fashion.

Only Snape seems immune. So he bullies him to shut him up. Without SEEMING like a bully. The kids think he is great, the way he can control the uncontrollable - Snape and Peeves.

Remus slips in and everyone is so taken with him they never notice the lock being picked. Their perception of him is on a tight leash. A magician’s sleight of hand and a silver tongue. Lockheart WISHES he could do this.

Remus is practical and practiced. He has the grit of someone who has fought for his life with both his wand and his tongue. He has lived a life of misdirection, gaslighting and manipulation - always subtle, always present. He reads others better than himself and moves through society with quiet ease, slipping in unnoticed and slipping out just as easily. No wonder he works as a spy.

He’s a top-class wizard - held back only by circumstance. Balancing his core needs, his interests and his health with no support network and poverty…? yeesh. In another life he may have been able to focus his efforts on a passion, rather than on topics that aid his survival in a harsh world.

As he is, though: he’s a formidable duelist and skilled charmer (magically and socially) - a survivalist, both in the wild and within society. An outcast who never seems like one. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

That's my take, as 'balanced remus lover friend' :^) Thanks - I needed to sit down and yap about Remus for a bit, had a shitty month

[inkdrinkerworld]

spencer with an alt gf who's got tattoos, piercings, dyed hair and all that. i don't really mind what you do with it im just yearning for my man rn

Spencer introduces his gf to the team.

“Spencer stop fidgeting, you’re making me nervous.” You and your boyfriend are sat in a restaurant waiting for his teammates to arrive.

Spencer and you had hit the year mark and he’d finally felt it was time for his team to meet you.

They know he has a girlfriend, of that he’s never been shy about flaunting, but they’ve never actually met you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Want another lemonade?” You shake your head, leaning into him to kiss his cheek.

“I’m okay Spence, it’s gonna be great.” You hope it will be. You want his friends and coworkers to like you but even you can realise how different you and Spencer are appearance wise.

Spencer’s all sweater vests and cute ties and cardigans, and you’re all visible tattoos, bright colored tops that stop over your naval to reveal a pretty piercing with a shell dangling on it and distressed jeans.

“Well hello pretty boy!” You recognize him as Derek. “And hello, pretty boy’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, Derek right?” He nods and you introduce yourself, Penelope right behind him and she can’t contain her grin.

“Oh you’re a badass, I already know it.” She says, pulling you in for a hug that you eagerly reciprocate.

JJ and Emily are next and then Hotch and Rossi.

“Where did you two meet?” Rossi asks and Spencer begins recalling the details of how you bumped into him on the subway, headphones on and how he’d helped you steady yourself while giving you all the details of how that was dangerous.

“It probably wasn’t the best first impression but I took his advice. And then we saw each other at that cute cafe and I had to give him my number because it was clearly not coincidental.”

Hotch smiles as you talk, a silent message passing between him and Spencer.

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s always away?” Derek asks and you shake your head.

“I’m not always easily available either,” his team frowns. “Spencer didn’t tell you?” You turn to him and find him blushing and you smile.

“I’m a linguist so most days I’m studying or teaching a class about what I’m studying. I also teach little kids a second language of their parents’ choosing. It’s a hard balance, but it’s fun.”

Rossi and Derek’s smiles are probably the widest. “You’re badass.” Derek says and you smile, cheeks hurting from his sincerity.

Emily chimes in for the first time, “Where do you get your tattoos done? They’re pretty cool.”

You grin again, Spencer chuckling when you say, “They also deter cannibals.”

Penelope and Hotch smile, “So you’re a not so secret nerd?” You shrug, not really knowing if you’d qualify.

“I mean, Spencer tells me crazy facts that I whip out sometimes but mostly I just have a couple things I like.”

The night ends spectacularly and Spencer can’t stop smiling as he walks with you. “So they’re nice,” you tell him and he nods.

“They all love you.” You feel your nerves release at that. “I think the girls will be inviting you to their monthly girl’s night soon enough.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

OK SO WHAT ABOUT ALASTOR X FEM READER EXCEPT READER DOESNT KNOW HOW TO REACT TO HIS CHIVALRY

So this takes place before they start dating and the beginning of the relationship. Reader basically has never met a guy who has chivalry(or is respectful) like ALASTOR, so when Alastor’s mannerisms come out, reader just looks at him like “wtf are you doing?” BUT NOT IN A MEAN WAY, more like in a confused way because they’re from a time where chivalry isn’t as popular(especially to women in general) and reader was raised to be tough(but it’s still nice to get treated like a lady). So whenever alastor acts like that reader just gets awkward and shy.

IM ASKING FOR THIS CUZ LIKE THE GUYS NOW HAVE NO RESPECT OR CHIVALRY like alastor😔😒 (ik not ALL guys but most guys now and days are jackasses)

Hnnng I fucking love this ✨️

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Harassment, Men being nasty

Description: ☝️⬆️

Back when you were alive, men never did the sort of things that Alastor does unless they wanted to get laid

Most of the men you knew had tendencies to act like frat boys or old perverts

Only having one goal in mind and if they got rejected then they got fucking nasty as hell with you

On top of that, you didn't have the luxury of growing up to be soft and helpless like some people

You had to be strong and look out for yourself, you rarely looked to others for help

Not even your own family

Some people didn't even look at you as a woman, just as some tough badass who didn't need anyone's helping hand

At least you hoped that how they looked at you

Not that you would've rejected the offer if anyone actually tried to help you out, everyone needs a hand now and then

The only people who ever offered any sort of help were horny guys who offered to help you let off some steam with them

Fuck off

But Alastor grew up in a very different time than you and his way of treating you always gave you whiplash

He would never dream of asking you to fuck within the first few days of knowing each other, or even the first month wtf kind of animals have men turned into??

You don't even wanna know, Alastor

His little pet names alone made you flustered but his actions??? A whole other monster in itself

When you first met him this crazy guy kissed your hand like you were in some regency movie

You were so shy afterwards that you couldn't look him in the eyes, your cheeks hot and pink

One time, Alastor actually took off his coat and put it over a puddle for you step on

Didn't you just beat up some guy for ripping it???

You could've just stepped over the puddle in the first place??? Why did you do that??

"I did what any proper gentleman would do for a lady such as yourself, Y/N..!"

You gotta look away at that point or else he would see how hot your face is getting, feeling flustered

Alastor actually asked you to dance to a song that wasn't meant for grinding and sweating on each other??

You blush and mumble something about not knowing how to dance to music like this and instead of making fun of you Alastor teaches you how

He's a wonderful dancer and leads the entire time, not letting you make a fool of yourself in front of everyone

You've never felt your heart do skip so many beats before

You're trying to ignore what some random lecherous demon is saying about your body and the things he would do to it??

Guess what-

"Now that is not the way to start a proper conversation with a lady of Y/N's status, or any lady for that matter."

Alastor scares him off for you and won't even accept your thanks in return, making your legs wobbly

Once your suffering with feelings for Alastor then every little thing he does makes you turn into a gooey puddle

It doesn't stop when he's suddenly courting you, only getting worse with each romantic act

He brings you flowers, dedicates entire broadcasts to you, asks you to take evening strolls with him

He does all this and never even expects a parting kiss from you, simply happy to be in your presence

When/why the fuck did men stop acting like this?? This is so much better than how they were back when you were alive-

You get flustered just at the sight of him now, wondering just how he's going to make you swoon today

Alastor is slowly getting you accustomed to how he believes you should always be treated, happy that you're no longer confused by his actions

This motherfucker just Pavlov-ed you into falling for him

This was so fun to write!! I hope I did a good enough job!!

[kxsagi]

hiiii, can u do the bluelock guys and fem reader who has to leave 4 the marines? i would like to highlight aiku and ness in this scenario. If u ever do u end up doing it, thanks.

“𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬”

a/n: yesss i gotchu girl, thank you for your patience!

ft. ness alexis, aiku oliver, kaiser michael, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, and barou shoei

ness alexis

sobbing. immediately. 

“are you… are you going to get blown up? 🥺” 

he cries in your arms the night before you leave. he refuses to let go. 

wraps your favorite scarf around your neck and tucks a photo of the two of you into your bag. 

sends you a good morning and good night message every single day without fail, and gets pouty if you miss a reply. 

tells everyone in blue lock you’re in the marines and treats you like an international spy. 

keeps saying, “i’m dating a warrior queen. i’m basically a prince.” 

sends you letters scented with his cologne. adds sparkly stickers and a lipstick print of your old lip balm “for luck.” 

aiku oliver

acts like he’s supportive… but cries in the car after dropping you off. 

“go live your dream, babe,” he says while gripping your suitcase like it wronged him. 

texts you things like “what if you get recruited into a secret underwater government branch and fall for an octopus man?” 

he is now weirdly obsessed with military documentaries and googles “how to be a respectful marine husband.” 

starts hitting the gym twice as hard because “if my girl’s gonna come back with biceps, i gotta be ready.” 

owns three keychains with your face on them. one is on his car keys. one is on his toothbrush. one is mysteriously in his wallet behind his ID. 

kaiser michael

pretends he’s unfazed: “it’s whatever. do what you want.” 

but the second you turn away, he’s pacing. muttering. spiraling. 

“why would you go there? are there no hobbies on land?” 

mails you custom dog tags that say “property of michael fucking kaiser.” 

makes jokes like, “if you cheat on me with a navy seal, i will become a pirate.” 

becomes overdramatic with everything. texts you “hope your missiles are doing better than i am.” 

asks you for a photo every day. he has an album titled “my girl, my general.” 

mikage reo

90% proud, 10% devastated. 

he wants to fund you. “can i buy you a submarine? a private aircraft carrier?” 

throws a dramatic “send-off party” with a banner that says “SEXY MILITARY BADDIE DEPLOYMENT CELEBRATION.” 

teaches himself morse code because “it’s romantic, babe. this is wartime love.” 

jokes about becoming your sugar daddy while you’re out being a badass. 

puts your enlistment photo in a gold frame on his desk and flexes it on zoom calls. 

buys himself a plush shark and names it after you. sleeps with it every night. 

nagi seishiro

“you’re joining the what now?” 

initially confused, then lazy sad. like... "ugh now i have to miss you a lot?” 

becomes weirdly clingy and burritos you in a blanket to stop you from going. 

keeps voice memos of your laugh and replays them while gaming. 

changes his gamer tag to “marinewifesei” (you didn’t even marry him???) 

mopes during deployment like a cat left alone for three days. 

“come back soon. the bed’s cold. and i miss your shampoo.” 

isagi yoichi

the proudest boyfriend. 

“you’re incredible. you’re strong. you’re brave. i believe in you.” (also nearly cries in the bathroom.) 

spends hours writing the perfect goodbye letter that he hands you awkwardly like it’s a confession. 

sends you updates on every single match. “this goal’s for you.” 

trains even harder while you’re away so you’ll be proud of him, too. 

tracks your deployment schedule and counts down the days like a kid waiting for christmas. 

has a marine keychain he kisses before every game. 

itoshi rin

quiet. stiff. brooding. 

doesn’t say “don’t go” because he respects you. but his grip on your hand tightens when you board that bus. 

writes long emails he never sends. 

visits your family more than you asked him to. brings them groceries and checks in regularly. 

watches the news obsessively and googles your base weather forecast daily. 

lowkey wears your hair tie on his wrist like it’s armor. 

when you come back, he hugs you so tight, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve. “don’t leave again,” he mutters into your shoulder. 

shidou ryusei

“oh hell yeah, my girlfriend’s gonna be a certified badass killing machine??” 

starts referring to you as “the missile mistress.” 

wants to fight you. not romantically. he wants a sparring match. 

immediately creates a playlist titled “music for when my gf’s out destroying nations.” 

misses you terribly but won’t admit it unless someone catches him watching your tik toks with a pout. 

writes you unhinged letters like “day 36 without your thighs around my head. morale is low.” 

plans to greet you at the airport with a “WELCOME BACK WAR CRIMINAL 💖” sign. 

itoshi sae

does not outwardly react. at all. 

“hm. you sure?” 

deep down, his brain is doing backflips. he doesn’t like the idea of you being so far, in danger, unreachable. 

he respects your choice, but becomes more protective. 

your last night before deployment, he holds you tighter than ever. doesn’t sleep. watches you breathe. 

he emails you little things – photos of his coffee, dumb things rin said, a new project he’s working on. 

doesn’t say “i miss you.” just: “come home safe.” 

barou shoei

furious. not at you, just at the world for taking you. 

“why the hell do you have to go fight in a warzone? don’t they have dudes for that?” 

buys gym equipment so he can get stronger “just in case you need backup.” 

meal preps and freezes food for your return like a very angry housewife. 

carves your initials into his gym bag like he’s in a shonen anime arc. 

sends you intense letters like “if you don’t come back alive i’ll resurrect you and kill you again myself.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[ducksido]

Idk if you're doing requests right now, if not, just ignore me n pretend I dont exist 👀

But what about housewardens with a reader thats like Rodrick Heffley?

-💜 anon if I can be?

I love rodrick so much and welcome 💜 anon

Riddle Rosehearts

Absolutely loses his mind.

You’re everything he was trained to hate—disorderly, rule-breaking, lazy (by his standards), and you have the nerve to act smug about it.

“Why aren’t you in uniform?! Did you even read the rulebook I gave you?!”

“Yeah, I used it to balance my desk. One leg was shorter.”

He froths at the mouth.

But you’re oddly good at calming people down… and you always have some loophole to get away with breaking rules, which lowkey impresses him (and pisses him off).

Worst part? Trey thinks you’re funny and that kills Riddle inside.

Leona Kingscholar

Surprisingly tolerant. You’re kind of his type of person.

You both slack off and complain, but you won’t shut up, and you always have some loud music playing or are drumming on a surface with your pen.

“Oi. Shut it. Trying to nap.”

“Then stop using my hoodie as a blanket, flea king.”

You’re like the annoying little brother he never wanted, but now he’s weirdly protective of.

When you actually do something cool (like save a class with your last-minute bullsh*t), he side-eyes you like, “...You’ve got talent. Shame you’re insufferable.”

Azul Ashengrotto

You give him stress hives.

Your “chaotic neutral” energy is too much for his structured business brain.

“You’re three weeks late on your payment—”

“Yeah but I brought you a donut. That cancels the debt, right?”

You’re the only person who can make Floyd laugh hard enough to choke, which makes Azul’s life harder.

Yet… you have the weirdest ability to talk people into making shady deals. He starts relying on you despite himself.

You become like that wild intern who Azul swears he’s going to fire but never actually does because you're weirdly effective.

Kalim Al-Asim

Thinks you’re the coolest person alive.

“Yuu, you’re amazing! Can you teach me how to skateboard down the dorm stairs?!”

“Hell yeah, bring the first aid kit.”

You bring nothing but chaos into his already chaotic life, and Jamil is ready to strangle you.

Kalim follows you like a duckling and tries to mimic your “badass older sibling” energy. It’s adorable. And terrifying.

You show up late to every class Kalim’s in and yell, “I’m here to lower the bar.” He laughs every time.

Vil Schoenheit

He wants to fight you.

You show up to his dorm in pajama pants and a ripped hoodie and say, “I call this look: fashionably disappointing.”

He has never sighed so deeply in his life.

But then he sees how everyone naturally gravitates toward you—even with your bedhead, eyeliner smudged from three days ago, and zero effort. It infuriates him.

Eventually, he starts lowkey trying to “fix” you.

You let him do your makeup once and made the most obnoxious rock band poses. The photo went viral.

Idia Shroud

Bro he gets you.

You’re like an extroverted version of his “trash gremlin” energy.

“You haven’t showered in three days? Pathetic. I’m going for five.”

You both bond over obscure bands and memeing everything.

Ortho adores you, but constantly tells you to “be a better influence” on his brother.

You once dared Idia to scream into a microphone during class. He did it. You gave him a plastic trophy that says “Loud Boi” on it. He still has it.

Malleus Draconia

Confused but intrigued.

You treat him like he’s just some dude, and it completely throws him off.

“Yo, Horns. You wanna go egg Riddle’s dorm?”

“Egg... the Heartslabyul dormitory?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I got the eggs.”

He thinks you’re hilarious, even when no one else does. Your chaotic energy is refreshing to him.

Sebek is HORRIFIED by your influence, but Malleus just chuckles and follows you into mischief with a creepy little smile.

One time, you gave him a fake tattoo sleeve. He showed it to Lilia with pride.