#i promise i'm going somewhere with this but if i don't split it into two parts i'm going to get too serious about it and never post it

[ghoulseason]

Terzo was pulled off stage. There would be consequences for this...

After Terzo was pulled off of the stage and his band returned to the ministry, Sister Imperator called his ghouls into her office. It was a sizeable room, but six ghouls sitting shoulder to shoulder managed to make the space feel smaller. What was usually clinical became claustrophobic.

She told them plainly that there were two options: Keep playing for the Ghost Project under Papa Nihil’s guidance, or retire to serve the ministry within the abbey. Nearly all of them, loyal creatures, chose to quit.

One of them, that great hulking beast that Terzo was so fond of, stayed seated a second longer than the rest of the ghouls. There was rage behind his mask. Sister almost wished he would speak so that she could punish him for doing so, but instead he rose and walked away. The shelves shook as the door slammed behind him.

-

Nihil was unwell when he began touring again, his health only got worse as the shows went on.

Terzo received updates as they filtered down through the clergy. Contrary to what he’d expected, he wasn’t banished to some hermitage in the hills of Sicily like some second-rate Corleone brother. Sister had told him it was her and his father’s hope that some time away from the public eye in dedicated service to The Lord would set him straight. She’d wanted him to rejoin the ranks of Cardinals.

He wouldn’t give either them the satisfaction. If they wanted him out of sight, he'd be out of sight. He quietly attended the services before daybreak, collected his breakfast and mail as soon as it came in the morning, and then he locked himself in his room until dinner, which he would take privately with his older brothers. Very few people saw him. Even fewer were invited to.

-

The deaths of Primo, Secondo, and Terzo hit the abbey like a tidal wave, leaving chaos in its wake. The Siblings of Sin are on high alert and abuzz with gossip and rumors. Maybe Nihil mourns in private, between the urgent meetings he has with Sister Imperator. She rushes from her office to his throughout the day, often pulling Cardinal Copia out of whatever prayer group he'd been attending in order to trail behind her. He's devastated, but within 48 hours he's Papa Emeritus IV.

However bad they'd thought the deaths were, the mutilation of Terzo’s corpse is worse. No one had known until the photos were published. There was no vigil for this, no group of Siblings comforting each other in the courtyard.

When the ghouls find out, Sister places the ministry on lockdown. Everyone shutters up in their private rooms while the ghouls tear through every inch of the abbey. Statues are destroyed, glass is shattered. It's days before the unholy roars and banshee screeches quiet down. The clergy half-expects to find the ghouls' residences completely abandoned, but instead, among the wreckage of their home, they're all accounted for and miserable.

Some more than others.

There would be consequences for this.

[gothgoblinbabe]

Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

(chapter 1/2)

(Logan Howlett x afab reader)

A/N: Yeah, the brain rot has reached a maximum and I've completely disregarded the consequences of a digital footprint! there's a couple descriptions of style of clothing/jewelry but you can imagine that as you please, also absolutely based off of "Babe Im Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin bc idk somewhere in my delusions I think Logans a Zeppelin kinda guy and its what I've been listening to. For the sake of the plot, stick with me, you've got an imaginary ex bf and his random name I picked is gonna be Danny and he suuuucks real hard okay? okay and I need you to pretend dear lovely reader that you like led zeppelin if you don't 💔[holding your face ever so gently and smooching ur forehead] and I've seen only xmen origins, x-men, X2, and Deadpool x wolverine so pls pls forgive me if some stuff doesn't canonically fit. This is kind of cringe but I wrote too much of it to get rid of it just bare with me I beg of u and it was so long I had to split it into two parts

Summary: Meeting the infamous Wolverine got you roped into a liiiitle more than what you bargained for

Warnings: swearing, you have telekinesis and telepathy (cause that's cool, c'mon), mild angst, suggestive stuff kinda, mentions of cheating (Logan does not cheat on u I pinkie promise), Logan calls you kid but you're not actually a child lol, you're a good bit younger than him but also so is anyone else who isn't borderline immortal

Word Count: 4K

Pt 2!

[credit for text post dividers here and here]

There had been muttering here and there between the students at the academy that Wolverine was coming back after a few years on his own, confirmed when Marie recognized the motorcycle now parked in the driveway of the mansion.

"Logan!"

He was immediately wrapped into a hug by Marie at the door, dropping his bags to the floor.

"Hey, kid, miss me?"

"Maybe," she smiled sweetly, tucking the white strands of hair behind her ears.

"Long time no see, huh?" Ororo's voice interrupted from behind her, earning a hug from Logan.

"Any one else around?" he questioned, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder again.

"Scott and Jean are around here somewhere, Charles as well. Oh, and there's a couple new faces you haven't met," she responded, smiling at the way Marie's eyes lit up at the chance to mention what she had been meaning to tell Logan.

Marie gasped and said your name, grabbing Logan's arm in excitement, "you have got to meet her. She joined us a couple of months ago, I think you'll really like her. She's kind of been like...our you, when you've been gone."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking between the both of them for an explanation as to what that was supposed to mean.

"You'll see," Ororo chuckled lightly, "oh, you will see."

"She's here now, I think, you should go introduce yourself to her!"

Logan had swiftly caught onto Marie's adorable attempt to play cupid and gave her a nod, "maybe when I settle in, okay, kid?"

She nodded in agreement and both her and Ororo watched him walk off further down the corridor.

"How do you think it will go when they meet?" the later of the two asked earnestly once he was out of sight.

"Well," Marie paused for a moment, thinking, "they'll be inseparable or absolutely hate each other."

Ororo nodded in agreement almost immediately, holding in a small laugh.

Much later in the evening, Logan had been beckoned into the study along with Ororo, Marie, Bobby, you, Jean and Scott by Charles.

He had been the last to enter, eyes immediately settling on your unfamiliar frame stood next to Marie with your back against the wall. You had plenty of rings adorning your fingers and necklaces dangling in front of your chest in the same kind of fashion he'd seen in those magazines with the Harley biker girls. You looked a little like one of them too, in well fitting jeans adorned with a belt, a band shirt and some chunky boots, except you were very much real and not on glossy paper.

"Oh! Logan!" Marie exclaimed upon noticing his arrival, beckoning him over with her hand. That turned your attention to him and he felt like the wind may have been knocked out of him when your eyes met his. You were far prettier than any of the girls he'd seen in any magazine.

"This is her," Marie whispered to Logan when he approached and nudged his arm, referring to when she had told him about you earlier.

"This is Logan," Marie said to you, gesturing towards him and leaning a little closer to you to whisper something he wouldn't catch, "and he's single, by the way."

A grin was plastered on her face when she pulled away and you rolled your eyes, "Marie - "

"I know, I know, too soon, but I just thought that was very good information for you to know," she raised her hands and stepped away a little, still intent on watching how the two of you interact for the first time.

Logan extended a hand for you to shake and you did the same. Your hands were small in his and your skin soft to the touch. It was almost hard for him to drop your grip when he did, nervous that he'd hold it even a second too long.

Nervous. Women had rarely ever made him nervous in the hundred - something years he'd been alive, and yet he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when you ran your hands through your hair to push it out of your face.

"Nice to meet you," he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

This may have been a good opportunity to try out your powers a little, concentrate hard enough on the handsome stranger's face to know what exactly was playing out behind his staring gaze, but you resisted the urge to do what you considered a tad bit violating.

"Same here," you responded at last, averting your gaze for just a moment to avoid inadvertently doing exactly what you had just decided you wouldn't.

Marie and Ororo had studied the small interaction between the two of you - of course - waiting for something more to happen, only to be disappointed when the both of you nodded courtly and turned away from each other.

"Well, that's not good. He'd be on her like a dog already - " Ororo started under her breath.

"No, no, I just think..." Marie interrupted, narrowing her eyes between the two of you, "I think they just need to get to know each other."

"Honey..."

"I'm telling you, I just feel like they'd be good together, they just need a chance to get to know each other!"

"Do you really think she's ready to get with another guy?" Ororo nodded her head in your direction, lowering her voice, "after all that stuff Danny pulled?"

Marie grimaced at the mention of one of the professors names, shaking her head in mild disgust, "have you seen him lately? always coming up to her in the halls and stuff, it's sad - for him, I mean."

Before either of them could further debate the topic, Charles gained everyone's attention to discuss a series of tasks he'd assigned to you all. As he spoke, you only tuned in once you heard your name.

"You are the one I'd like to send out to complete that with Daniel."

"Could, uh, can I do it with someone else? or have him do it alone, or something?"

Logan caught the confused look Jean shot your way, tilting her head before she spoke, "You don't want to go with Danny? What happened, I thought the two of you -"

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, scowling, "uh-uh. Hell no. He...uh, I'll tell you about it later."

You had realized the sudden vulnerability you'd found yourself experiencing in a room full of eyes on you and cleared your throat, attempting to change the subject.

"I can hang back and keep an eye on the kids, I don't mind."

"They do love you," Ororo chimed in, "and we need someone to stay back to watch them anyway."

"They only like her so much because she allows them to break the rules," Scott remarked, earning a nudge in the arm from Jean.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Scott, the thing with the kids in your room was one time and it was an accident - "

"Was it? Because one of them wrote 'asshole' on my bathroom mirror with sharpie."

"They're kids, they do that kind of stuff!"

"was that really one of the kids?"

You tucked your lower lip under your teeth in an attempt to smother a laugh. Logan almost immediately did the same when you darted your eyes around the room in a guilty attempt to avoid eye contact.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me - " Scott started but Charles interrupted, holding up a hand.

"Alright, the both of you - enough. You," he continued, gesturing towards you, "may stay back with the children. Please do not allow them into anyone's personal quarters and I would advise you to hide the permanent markers for the time being, away from the children and perhaps yourself."

You nodded and hung your head low to hide the reappearing smile across your face. Logan stared inadvertently from then on, watching you twist your rings around your fingers and focusing on you intently when you spoke every now and then. When you were all dismissed by Charles and filed out of the room, you and Marie walked ahead of most of the group, almost out of ear shot.

Logan heard Jean's hushed voice behind him as she leaned into Scott, "so...what do you think happened? With Danny?"

"Who the hell is this Danny guy?" he finally asked, turning over his shoulder to interrogate the two of them.

"Well," Jean whispered your name, looking ahead to be sure you hadn't caught their conversation, "it's her boyfriend. Or was, I guess. They had a thing for awhile but they stopped hanging around each other all the sudden and she can't even stand to hear his name - she hasn't told me what it's about yet."

Logan simply hummed in acknowledgment, turning back ahead and finding his gaze caught on the sway of your hips as you walked.

"Oh no," he heard Ororo huff beside him, almost immediately following her gaze to see a guy he didn't recognize slip behind you and put an arm around your waist. Too far out of ear shot to hear the context, he watched you squirm out of the young mans grip and shake your head as you kept walking.

"Is it bad I want to get closer to hear what they're saying?" Ororo muttered, looking to the other three in her proximity.

"It's not our business," Jean reminded her.

"So, that's him?" Logan asked, gesturing to the guy still on your heels like a puppy.

"uh - huh," Ororo answered, frowning as she watched Danny make another pathetic attempt to put his arm around you.

When the two of you stopped at the far end of the hall and you told Marie it was okay to leave you, Logan, Ororo, Scott and Jean all turned the corner to the closest hallway.

"Oh, I know It's bad but I have got to know what lame excuse he's got this time," Ororo shook her head, stopping just around the corner to eavesdrop.

"Ororo - " Jean sighed, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "come on."

"They're in the hallway! it's not like I'm standing outside a door," she reasoned, hushing them after so that the only voices hard were yours and Danny's.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry - "

"Danny, many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Why won't you just leave me be?"

You sounded exasperated, your voice slightly muffled when you rubbed your face with your hands.

"What do you think he did?" Scott chimed in in a hushed town, now fully invested in the dialogue.

Logan was still stood there, though he wasn't too sure why. He could have and should have kept walking - let the three of them do their weird detective work - but instead found himself leaned against the wall with the rest of them.

"I love you, you know that, sweetheart, I - "

"ugh, don't call me that. You gross me the hell out, you know that?"

Both Jean and Ororo made almost the same shocked expression.

"oh, it has to be bad," Jean hissed, frowning at the venom in your tone.

"Tell me you're not still in love with me, you know you can't, we - " Danny's voice began again and yours cut him short with a sense of finality in your tone.

"Danny. I stopped being in love with you the day I walked in on you fucking another other girl."

Jean's hands flew to her mouth to muffle a shocked gasp. Scott stood with his arms crossed, his face in a grimace.

"ooh, that is bad," Ororo whispered just as a door slammed.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, following everyone else as they continued their path down the hall again. This Danny kid had to be a real idiot.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄ * ⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Weeks had passed and you shared small talk with Logan every now and then, sometimes making snarky comments here and there - though more often than not together and at Scott's expense. Funnily enough, the ability to piss Scott off so much made Logan like you even more. Maybe Marie was right, you kind of are like him.

You walked alongside him down the corridor one afternoon, intending to fulfill Ororo's request for the both of you to check in on some of the newer students.

"So, do you always do your hair like that?" you raised your eyebrows up at him, eyeing the peaks in his hair.

"Yeah. What, you don't like it?" He grinned, expecting you to make some smart remark about it.

"No, not that," you giggled, "it's like lil' cat ears, it's cute."

He looked down at you quizzically, stopping in his tracks.

"cat ears?"

"mm-hm. You're like a big kitty."

You bit down another giggle, reaching up boldly to touch his hair.

He gently swatted your hand away, still with a small grin on his face.

"Don't call me that."

"Big kitty?"

"Yes."

"Okay, kitty meow - meow."

He narrowed his eyes as you turned to continue walking in an attempt to hide the huge smile plastered on your cheeks that threatened to transform into a rather loud laugh.

"Uh-huh, whatever. You better not let anyone else hear you call me that," he huffed as he caught up to you rather easily.

As you were about to make another retort, your smile dropped at the sight of a familiar and unfriendly face that had come from around a corner.

"Christ," you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration, rubbing your forehead at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

"Hey," Logan leaned down a little, nudging you gently, "I'm here, you're good. You're fine, don't worry about him. It's just us, alright? Walk past him like you don't even see him."

Though he'd be embarrassed to admit and absolutely deny it if anyone asked, he'd unfortunately (for himself) harbored a crush on you that only took a couple weeks to develop. He hadn't even really gotten the chance to know you yet, though that was precisely why he was glad about moments like these. He wanted to, even if he felt like a school kid with a playground crush.

You had simply nodded at his words, allowing him to place a gentle hand on your upper back to guide you down the hall with him. Even through the layer of a jacket and t-shirt, you could feel the warmth of his hand on you.

Logan remembered that moment in the hall on the first day you'd met, but never pestered you for details about what the hell went on before he got back. He figured when and if you wanted to tell him, that was up to you.

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, it took what felt like years to pass your ex-boyfriend. When you finally did, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, until his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"That's my shirt."

You whipped your head around, feeling Logan slip his arm a little further around you as a protective reflex.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your attire. The shirt, a tad oversized and well worn, was so familiar that you had completely forgotten it once did belong to him.

"I want it back," he spoke again, crossing his arms.

"Do you really want it back?"

You were beyond fed up with his pestering at this point, already having decided what may make the message clear.

"Yes."

"Okay. Fine."

You pulled away from Logan and slipped off your jacket, turning around to hand it to him. He gave you a confused look, hesitantly taking it out of your hands. In a matter of seconds, you turned back around and tugged the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it directly at Danny's chest. You turned back and took your jacket from Logan's hands, zipping it far enough to cover your bra. In the few seconds you had stood facing him, he had done his best to keep his eyes away from your body and failed miserably, looking up after to see the asshole a few feet away already glaring at him.

"What, you're just gonna walk around like that? And what are you doing hanging out with him anyway, don't you know he - "

You groaned at the sound of Danny's voice again, gently tugging Logan by the hand in the opposite direction as you began to walk away, "yap, yap, yap - just shut the fuck up."

Logan couldn't help the smirk plastered across his face as you continued to walk, finally turning a corner. Before you could apologize to him for having to awkwardly stand witness to that, Scott's voice echoed from the stairway above you.

"Hey, Charles is looking for you two. He says he has something he needs you to take care of, he didn't say what."

"Thanks for the specifics, Scott," you replied sarcastically, "but we're supposed to check on - "

"I know," he interrupted, "I got Marie and Bobby to cover you. You're welcome, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back to Logan, dreading what exactly it was Charles wanted from you.

That landed you where you were the next morning, heaving your bags into the back of Logan's truck.

"If we have to take the truck like two states over, can I at least drive?"

The plane being needed for another assignment that Jean, Scott and Ororo were assigned left the two of you with Logan's truck. You'd been asked to retrieve a rare mechanical piece needed for the construction of some new device; you'd only been half-listening when Charles started to explain the details, lost in thought after he'd mentioned it would require the two of you to sleep out overnight.

Man, that had made your chest feel tight. It had been almost physically painful trying to swallow down every tell that you really liked him for the past few weeks and now you had no choice than to be each others only company for nearly 2 days.

"Yeah, in your dreams, kid," Logan scoffed playfully and brought you back to reality, dangling the keys in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes at the keyring he began to spin around his finger. In a split second, the jangle of the metal could be heard as you snatched them from his hand with only a focused thought.

You caught them in your raised palm and tilted your head, a terribly smug smile across your cheeks.

"Looks like my dreams came true, huh?" you teased, walking past a still mildly distraught Logan to get into the drivers side.

"If you dent it, I'll kill ya," he warned as he finally slid into the passenger seat, watching your every move as you started the engine and carefully reversed out of the garage.

"Uh-huh, sure," you retorted sarcastically, "I'm terrified of the kitty claws."

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"Calling you what?" you feigned ignorance, fumbling with the knob on the stereo to change the station as your eyes stayed glued to the road.

"And don't mess with everything, kid, you'll end up breaking something. She's on old girl, you gotta - "

"Dude," you interrupted, simultaneously cranking down your window and fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his center console, "I know how to drive, chill out."

"Dude," he mocked, "this truck is probably almost as old as you, you gotta be careful."

You rolled your eyes under the shades of the worn aviators you had slipped onto your nose, simply nodding and continuing to flip through stations.

"Pick one and stick with it, will you?"

"Ooh, is someone mad I got the keys?"

Before he could say something in response, you gasped at sound of the song playing on the station you had just switched to, twisting the knob almost as far as it could go.

Logan recognized the familiar thump of "babe I'm gonna leave you" by Led Zeppelin, furrowing his eyebrows when you began to nod your head and sing along.

"You like Led Zeppelin?" he nearly had to shout over the music, leaning in to you a little further.

"Yeah," you responded, reaching over to turn the music down just enough for you to hear each other and glancing at him momentarily, "How come you're looking at me like that?"

He unfurrowed his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead as he spoke, " just never pegged you for a Zeppelin kind of girl, I guess."

"No? What's that supposed to mean?"

You were smiling again and it was excruciatingly difficult for him not to stare when you looked so good in the spot he usually sat with his old sunglasses on.

"Didn't think you had good taste in music."

That made you giggle and you shook your head, turning the stereo back up to a booming volume.

He watched you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the drums as you continued to drive, occasionally moving to push your windswept hair out of your face. The morning sun shining through your open window highlighted your features perfectly and Logan sighed without a thought, unheard over the music. Jesus, he had it bad.

You could feel his stare in your peripheral vision every time he looked to you and it felt far warmer than the sun beating down on you from the opposite direction. You truly rarely ever used your developing skill of telepathy, feeling it was only justified when absolutely necessary to obtain information, but his burning gaze nearly had you veering off the road at times and his prior answer to the question of why he was looking at you that way wasn't too convincing.

With a deep breath, already wondering if it was a mistake, you kept your eyes focused to the road but gradually concentrated on the man beside you. Sometimes people's thoughts would appear as inner dialogue, other times as imagined scenarios, daydreams or visuals. You were confused, then, when you only saw an image of yourself as you were now. If you concentrated too hard, your own thoughts would transfer to Logan's mind and it would be humiliatingly obvious that you had been poking around in his consciousness and so you tried to clear your mind and try again, assuming your own mind was too preoccupied with yourself to concentrate properly.

Still, you could only see the image of yourself driving from the perspective of the passengers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair as you propped your elbow on the door. This time, though, you could hear the accompanying echo of Logan's voice over the hum of the music you had tuned out.

Is her hair always like that? I like it that way. Pretty.

You swallowed hard, fidgeting with the hair that was between your fingers. It's a compliment - innocent enough, and undeniably kind of sweet. You felt guilty then for probing his thoughts and nearly shook yourself out of it, only to realize the image in Logan's mind was no longer of just your profile. He was thinking about your legs, thighs squished against the seat of the truck.

Fuck

You nearly choked on your own saliva, clearing your throat at the echo of his voice again and immediately withdrawing yourself from his mind.

"You okay?" Logan spoke aloud, putting a gentle hand on your upper arm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you lied, trying with every fiber of your being to just keep all focus on the road. You knew you shouldn't have done that. It was just a thought, though, nothing said aloud to change anything between the two of you, and so you pretended the best you could that you hadn't heard or seen a thing.

About eight hours, a handful of dad rock albums and a stop to switch seats later, you finally pulled into the parking lot of the nearest motel you had found didn't have a highlighted "no vacancy" sign.

"If there's fucking bed bugs in here, I will never let you hear the end of it," you warned from the passenger seat.

"I think you'd talk my ear off till the day I die anyway," he scoffed, shifting the truck into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.

"You won't die for another hundred-something years."

"Exactly my point, honey."

You rolled your eyes and slipped out of the truck as he did, pretending the nickname hadn't made your face burn. You both grabbed your belongings and once inside you looked around the small lobby as Logan checked you in, impressed with how surprisingly clean the place seemed to be.

"Hey, is that okay?"

Logan's voice took your attention from the painting on the wall you'd been inspecting and you raised your eyebrows.

"Huh?

"Uh, there's a room left but it's only got one bed."

Your face dropped and you looked between him and the poor kid behind the counter who already looked nervous as all hell.

"You're kidding."

"We can keep driving, but we've already been on the road all day and I don't think there's another place around here for a good few miles."

He was much more calm than you expected him to be and you exhaled, thinking of the literal pain in the ass caused by sitting in the car for so many hours.

"Ugh, fine."

A/N: I had to split this in two because it was so long but If anyone likes this at all I will post da other part cause I like spewing my brain rot on the internet <3

[luveline]

Helllloooo :) if at all possible, could I request a fic for when stripper!reader realizes that Spencer actually like-likes her? Maybe he finally makes a real move or plans a “fancy” date to show her how much she means to him? She definitely wouldn’t believe him at first/think she deserves it, but if it could be a happy ending, I’d appreciate it so much. 🥺🥺

🐈‍⬛ thank youuuu

ty for requesting <3 fem

He smells like coffee. 

"Hi!" you say, bending under the weight of his hug. 

"What are you," —he drags his face against your cheek— "doing here, I thought you were," —his hand cups your neck as he pulls away— "going to Moira's for the weekend?" 

"You sound so happy," you say, nonplussed. 

"Yeah I'm happy. Do you wanna stay over? We can go to the movies, or we can get takeout, we can do both." Spencer beams at you. "Sorry, I'm– I'm rushing. I'm just happy. Is everything okay? What happened to house sitting?" 

"Oh, nothing, she missed her flight," you say. "Can I come in?" 

Spencer ushers you inside. His apartment is cleaner than usual. He's actually had time to clean, it seems, the faint scent of disinfectant alive in the kitchen and fresh laundry folded on the table behind the couch. He follows your eyes. "I did the stuff you left, last time. But I ended up with like, three pairs of your socks? How did that happen?" 

"You didn't have to." 

"Why wouldn't I?" He goes to walk off but stops, twisting around to give you another hug from the side. "Tea?" 

Your face feels hot. "Yes, please." 

Spencer takes to the kitchen to make tea, one of your shared routines. He grabs the kettle from the cabinet, two mugs, and two teabags. You don't know why you stay in the living room as he fills the kettle. He's putting it on the stove when he says, "Oh, hey, I got you, uh– you liked my soap, right? The chamomile? So I got you some. It's in my room, and I got you some of your chocolates from Leaven." 

"You did?" 

You fail to hide your excitement. Spencer waves you away without looking. "They're with the soap."  

You laugh to yourself, leaning down to pull your sneakers off of your heels. You leave them by the couch and slip over the hardwood into his room, where your promised soap and chocolate sit on one of his desks. He calls them your chocolates, but you only ever tried them because he saw you looking at them one time and bought them as a surprise. You've been hooked on them ever since. 

You're thinking about what joke you can make to hear him laugh. Something on the nose about him ruining your future career aspirations or a flirty nothing, maybe. You just want me to fall out of shape so I can't work. 

The suitcase on the bed distracts you. Open, half packed. 

"Are you going somewhere?" you ask him, chocolates and soap held loosely to your stomach. 

Spencer takes the kettle off of the heat, bringing it to the two mugs to top them one at a time. "What?" 

"Your suitcase?" 

His shoulders tighten just so. "Well, there's this convention happening but I hate driving in the dark, so I figured I'd stay up there." 

"When, tonight?" 

"Yeah." He picks up the mugs and shoots you a smile. "But obviously I'm not going now." 

Obviously? Spencer rounds the side of the couch to sit down, murmuring for you to come and sit with him. You follow his order without question, setting yourself on the couch cushion beside him, and find there's little resistance in you to leave space between your thighs. He leans into you as soon as he's able and hands you your mug. 

There's something in his eyes. A warmth. A real affection. "I'd definitely rather be with you here than without you there. Even if there's a guest speaker who's actually managed to split shared arteries between conjoined twins while they're still in the womb." 

"You're interested in that stuff?" 

"Just for fun." He doesn't drink his tea. He probably didn't want any, a coffee mug already on the table, but he always makes two cups. You think it might be so you don't feel like you're an imposition. He's that special brand of thoughtful. 

"Can I ask you something?" you ask, your heartbeat a tangible thump under your skin. It's a silly question guided by a stupid thought, but you have to ask. You've always wanted to see other people's hands, so to speak, uncomfortable with the unknown. 

"Anything." 

You've exposed the most private parts of you and still it's hard to be vulnerable. It's easier knowing you're with Spencer, but not easy. "Do you like me?" 

Spencer doesn't do either of you the disservice of pretending he doesn't know what you mean. His voice is measured but shyness creeps in, an almost questioning lilt to his words as he says, "Well, yeah. I thought you already knew that." 

"I thought you… appreciated the aesthetic of me." 

"I do." He looks at your forehead rather than your eyes. "You know you're pretty, and your dancing, it's– it's pretty too. I think you're beautiful, but that's really not the only thing about you. You've been remarkably easy to fall for." 

His cheeks are suddenly red. A blotchy staining under his cheekbones and up over the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't lie, but the blush cements that he's telling the truth. Spencer really, truly likes you, enough to buy you the gifts that sit in your lap and to cancel trips. He'd rather stay home with you and drink tea on the couch than be anywhere else. 

"Spence, if you think it was easy for you, you have no idea what it's been like for me," you say quietly. That draws his eyeline back to your face. You smile at him gently. "No idea." 

He puts his mug down on the table to hug you. "Careful of your tea," he says, his smile audible.

You hug his arm to your chest with one hand. When he kisses the side of your head, you're pleasantly shocked. 

"I didn't realise," you say. "Sorry, Spence, I never–" Never thought you'd like me like that. "I didn't know." 

"I was just waiting for you to catch up." 

[webslingingslasher]

can you please give us something angsty between ethan and trouble? like how ethan texts her and she ignores the messages during the breakup. or when they run into each other in the cafeteria and trouble pretends he’s not there and walks away despite he’s calling out her name. the way trouble no longer crochets because that was her thing with ethan and it feels strange to pick up the needles and it makes her miss him.

*cleaning out my drafts!*

ethan is peter's best friend and by default, he owes you nothing.

you were a friend for the moment but once you and peter ended, so did the alliship. ethan didn't get that in the memo, but he's never made a friend through peter and lost her through him too. he keeps thinking everything is normal, like there isn't a giant peter shaped hole in the fence.

'hey, so i was thinking we could have a little study sesh at the library?'

'i'll rent out a room. and it would be just us.'

'obv.'

you miss him too sometimes. but he chose peter by default and you don't condemn him one bit for it, ally did the same with you. peter was ethan's friend first, so he should still be one when you walked away.

peter doesn't talk to ally anymore either. both friends became constant reminders of what you had and lost.

it might be a text message but you can hear ethan's voice in your head, he sounds defeated.

'i'm guessing that's a no.' you never open them but he knows you read them. it doesn't surprise ethan, you've ignored him since you dumped peter. he just never expected to be dumped too.

'i miss you.'

'i just wanna hang out with you again.'

'and if you don't want him around either that's fine with me.'

'i'll fly you somewhere in my private jet.'

'damn it. i was really hoping for a "you have a private jet???" response.'

'it's a yes btw. just because i know you're curious.'

'well, actually, it's my parents but you always say that's the same thing.'

you watch each notification appear and disappear. your teeth dig into your bottom lip to stop a smile, you can't go backwards. if you're around ethan it leads to peter and you can't do that.

ethan didn't realize there might be a reason why you haven't been texting him back, but he does now. what if you weren't replying because you weren't seeing them? he thought you were just ignoring him but it's been weeks of silence.

'did you block me too?'

he hopes not. he really, really hopes not. ethan knows why you pushed him away, he's just upset that he didn't get a say in it. ethan's never been able to tell you how sorry he is on behalf of his best friend and how he doesn't want to lose you over his idiocy.

you frown at the message, restraining your impulse to text him back, you hold your breath and wait for another message.

it comes two minutes later and your entire heart shatters.

'crochet buddy?'

you haven't been able to look at your basket of hooks and yarn, it feels wrong to finish your pig. you told ethan you kept messing up on the ears and he said he'd do them for you. he never got the chance. you wonder if he finished his lizard tail.

your thumbs move before your mind can stop you, not that it would. you had to tell him the truth, you can't have him wallow and sulk over you.

peter might deserve it but ethan doesn't.

'it would surprise me if you didn't have a private jet.'

'hey!!!!!!!!'

'don't leave yet pls.'

'let me take you out to lunch. we can go to the village or brooklyn.'

'i promise he won't find out.'

'please?'

'i miss my buddy.'

you think it's almost as painful as splitting from peter. ethan is peter's best friend and you can't get in the middle of that. it'll hurt peter just as bad and while part of you wants him to be hurt over you, you don't want to use ethan as the pawn to do it.

you back out of the conversation, lock your phone, set it down, and grab your unfinished pig before curling up with him for a nap.

---

ethan doesn't eat in kayte hall. you know he doesn't eat in kayte hall because you ate in cathedral hall with the sig nu frat.

used to.

you switched to kayte hall two weeks ago, it was an extra five minute walk but it was done with the purpose to avoid situations like this.

you try to move discreetly, it doesn't matter, he clocked you the second you sat down. you can't abandon ship, he's sliding in the seat across from you.

'you're avoiding me and i really hate it. you made me stoop so low i had to get a pledge to track you down for me.'

you're not going to give him the silent treatment, that would be plain rude.

'are you admitting to stalking me?'

'i'm admitting that i instructed someone to stalk you. are you flattered? you should be.'

'why aren't you at cathedral?'

'because you don't eat there anymore, duh. can i have a grape?' you hesitate before sliding your tray halfway up the table, he takes three.

you listen to the purple crush between his teeth, ethan looks a bit more serious after he swallows. you look at your cup, his stare makes you feel guilty.

'look, let me get this out of the way now so we don't have to talk about it again. i don't know all the details, park- peter hasn't really opened up to me about it.'

you swallow tightly, this is exactly what you didn't want to happen.

'from what i know- or pieced together, he disappointed me too. i'm sorry for whatever he did and i'm sorry it hurt you enough that i was caught in the crossfire, but between us, when i'm with you, he doesn't exist. this is the last time i'll ever talk about him, i'll offer you the same courtesy and we won't bring it up again.'

ethan's saying all the right things, you softly shrug. 'what's the courtesy?'

'you can ask me about him if you want to. it'll stay between us, i promise.'

the peter floodgates burst open, you'd done your best to push him from your mind but now you have the opportunity to indulge. you nibble at your bottom lip before looking up at him. ethan's smile is gentle, he's trying so hard for you.

'how is he doing?' from the little rumors you've heard it doesn't seem too good and the harsh bruise splattered across his jawline last week didn't do him any favors.

'um,' his smile tweaked, it's worse than you thought. you know it's bad because ethan's trying to find a way to be honest but not worry you. 'he's okay.'

'please be honest.' you know you ended it, you know it's real this time and you know part of you wants to hate him but if he's really down bad, you might have to give him a visit. ethan takes a deep breath and leans in closer to the table.

'yeah, he um, he kind of tanked. he's not himself right now. he's skipping chapter meetings, he's missing classes and if he's home, he's barricaded in his room or drinking.' your heart sinks, you're not hungry anymore.

'does he miss me?' you almost feel embarrassed to ask. ethan doesn't find the question pitiful, he's just glad you're talking to him. 'bad.'

it's brutal on your end too, but he sounds worse than you. at least you can get through the emotions of your day to day. you wish you could say you won the breakup but there's no winning.

'has he...'

you don't want to know the answer. you don't want to know the answer. you don't want to know the answer.

you still ask it. 'has he hooked up with anyone else?'

'no.' you believe him because he said it quick and with certainty. you nod slowly, it was the answer you wanted but it still didn't feel good.

'is he still going to the parties?' ethan shakes his head, 'i haven't seen him at any.'

'but he still has you, right?' if you didn't have a small support system you would've lost it ten times over by now. peter doesn't have a whole lot but one ethan overpowers ten mediocre friends.

'i asked if he wanted to talk about it, he said not really, i told him i was there for him and he said thanks. there really hasn't been much else, he's just been really quiet.'

ethan is all peter has, you can't rip that away from him. it would be evil to pollute the one thing he still had, you walked away from him and you shouldn't take his friend with you. plus... how could you move on if you have the peter encyclopedia at your fingertips?

'at least he's not crying.' you end it with a half laugh, half hum. it's sad all around and you're trying to lighten the mood, ethan avoids eye contact and your palms rest on the table.

'ethan.'

ethan's not sure if he is or not. he hasn't heard him but there are some days peter would shuffle out from his room for a water or snack and his eyes were a little red. there was evidence of crying but no tears, so he can't say with certainty but he knows.

'i don't know.'

it made up your mind. you can't do this to peter, you can't sneak around with his friend when he's still trying to mend what went down. you grieved the end of your relationship when you were with him, calling it quits was hard and it still is, but you were prepared. peter was caught off guard and he's still analyzing everything that went down, you know he is.

'so... are we cool?'

'of course we are, you were never a problem, ethan.' he looks relieved, releasing a sharp sigh he rests his hand over his heart and smiles brightly. 'oh thank god, i really missed you. so, are we done with the peter talk? are we ready to schedule our next crochet date?'

oh. he must've misunderstood you.

'no, we're not... we're not hanging out ethan, i just wanted you to know i didn't have any bad blood against you.'

ethan's not a mean person and you've never seen him mad at someone but he's hurt and his arms cross over his chest with a sneer.

'why am i being punished for what he did?'

'you're his best friend, ethan.' it's a statement and fact. it also has everything to do with you ghosting him. 'you were my friend too.' it's a raw confession, you can't look at him when he's this sad.

'i know i was. you were mine too, you still are. it's just different now and i'm not saying we can't be friends, but i think it would be better for everyone if we just took a break from each other right now.'

'it's not better for me. everything is weird right now, my best friend is a shell of the person he used to be and my other one pushed me so far away i was convinced she forgot about me.'

'it feels like i'm being iced out from all sides.' he's much sadder when he adds that on. you feel for him and you hate that you're part of the reason he feels excluded.

'i'm really sorry you feel like that, ethan. i promise it won't be forever, but i have my mind made up and no matter how many times you say please, it won't change.'

you're not sure if things between you became really quiet or if the dining hall doubled in sound. ethan's trying to come up with the right combination of words but nothing's good enough to make you come around on the idea.

If please doesn't work, he might have to force you.

'okay. i'll stop asking you to hang out with me.' he sounds fine with it, you're a little suspicious but he might've just wanted to talk to you, even if it was a formal goodbye.

'but i should go now.' ethan pushes against the edge of the table to slide out from his chair. his words are short but his tone is happy, you stare at him extra hard before nodding.

'i'll see you around?'

ethan sends a wink your way, 'see you later.'

---

the contents of your backpack are all over your bed, your phone nowhere to be found. you retrace your previous steps, you had it at lunch and you swore it was in your outer pocket at the library but after that it's blank.

it was either lost or stolen. your entire life was on it, you don't even have a way of telling everyone you lost it. you recheck your bag two more times even after holding it upside down, then fill it back up while giving yourself pity.

you wallow in it for ten minutes, not even a minute after that your roommate rushes in the door with her own phone held out. 'it's ethan.' you reach for it without thinking but pause before you can fully grab it, ally shakes it towards you. 'he said he has your phone?'

ally's unaware of what's happening and is being as helpful as she could but all you're thinking about is when and how he took it. you press her phone to your ear and ask him where your phone is, he plays dumb.

'i'm not fucking around, ethan. this isn't funny, i need my phone.'

'you left it behind at butler, it's a good thing my pledge found it for you.'

there was absolutely no chance of you leaving it, you clench your jaw and try to restrain yourself from throwing a million mean chirps. he sent someone to rob you.

'you stole my phone? why the fuck would you steal my phone?'

'oh, i didn't steal anything. you should be thankful one of our guys found it.'

'found it in my backpack?'

'did he? hm, interesting. but, hey! it's here and it's safe.'

'great, bring it to me.'

there's a pause on the other line, ethan sucks air in through his teeth. 'sorry, no can do, buddy. looks like you'll have to come get it.' your mouth parts in shock, that was the plan? forcing your hand to hang out with him?

'absolutely not. just meet me at kayte.'

'another no go, my friend. i'm stuck here and so is your phone.'

'you're not stuck anywhere, except in a house with my ex.'

'he's not here.'

'i don't believe you.'

you can picture ethan holding his phone into open air, he sounds far away when he calls out 'parker!' there's a solid ten second gap before he sounds crystal clear again. 'see? no threats.'

'ethan, please.'

'just come over, i promise it'll be fun.'

your eyebrows furrow, he thinks it's a game. 'no, nothing will be fun. this will be a business transaction and i'll be out of there in ten seconds.'

'so it's a yes? you're coming over?' if ethan had a tail, he would be wagging it. his plan worked and you're falling right into his hand. if it was anything else, you'd say fuck it and move on. but ethan took the one thing he can hold over your head and you both know it.

'i don't know how, but this is a rich asshole thing and you're being one.'

ethan ignores you. 'make sure to bring your crochet hooks!'

'i'm not doing that.'

'that's okay! i have a bunch of extras.'

'i mean it, ethan. i'm not hanging around!'

'what's that? sorry, you're breaking up on me. we should finish this conversation in person... okay, bye!'

the call disconnects suddenly. you stare at the black screen and take a deep breath to secure your thoughts before making a trek across campus.

---

'give me my phone.'

ethan ignores you and points to his bedside table, there's two waters and an entire box of grocery store cookies. 'here, come have a snack.' he drops his crochet tub on the edge of his bed. 'i got some new yarn, look at how soft it is.'

everything about it was a ruse.

'im serious, ethan. give me my phone.' he sighs and gestures to his desk, he keeps pulling out hooks. 'it's on my desk.' you search the surface, it's extremely tidy with no hiding place.

'no it's not. where is it?'

'hm... i must've misplaced it. i'll help you look in a second.'

if ethan wants to play dirty, you have no issue getting in the mud. you grab a small succulent from his windowsill and raise it next to your head.

'give me my phone, ethan.'

you're fighting fire with fire, ethan eyes his plant in your hold but keeps a straight face. 'i forgot where i put it.' if that's how he wants to act, you have no choice but to follow through on your actions.

you drop the mini cactus, the pot shatters into a dozen pieces and soil spatters around the floor. ethan falls to his knees and screams 'no!' at the plant guts covering the ground.

'she was a kid, you monster! she did nothing to you!'

you grab the matching pot that was next to it. 'give me my phone or the sister gets it.'

'i refuse to negotiate with a terrorist!' you're breaking him, you can see he's hesitant to refuse your compromise. 'i'm sorry you feel that way.'

the clay pot falls just as quick, it lies in a broken heap next to it's twin. ethan acts like he's been shot, a throaty yelp was produced while he delicately held the cacti in his hands.

the plants were fine, all you did was bust the pots. and while breaking personal property was a bar too low for you, you know he has at least a dozen more just like it in his closet.

you look up at his door to watch it crack open, it's a swift movement but it feels like everything is moving in slow motion. you try to back up as quick as you can but you're cemented to the floor and all you can do is stare at the face coming through the door.

'what the hell is... hey.'

you swallow hard, he looks how ethan said. just a shell of what he once was. all you can stare at is the purple bruise on his cheekbone, your heart pangs when it's reminded it's not your job to care about it anymore.

you point at ethan who suddenly is really quiet.

'he stole my phone.'

peter nods slowly before peering down at the mess around your shoes. 'did he give it back?' you shake your head, you feel like a tattle tail, especially when peter looks down at ethan and tells him to give your phone back.

ethan pulls it out of his pocket and hands it right over, your jaw drops and you frown heavily at him. 'you do it when he asks but not me?'

'he'll beat me up, you'll just unhouse my plants.'

'peter would never beat you up.' therefore, his excuse is pointless. ethan disagrees, his eyebrows almost hit his hairline with how confident you are. 'over you? he'd fucking kill me.'

you wait for peter to tag in, you know something is brewing in his mind. something like 'damn right i would,' and you'd follow up with something about how he's actually a big baby and he'd say something like 'only for you' and you'd... but that's not real life anymore and he stays silent.

he's probably confused and a little hurt you're hidden away in ethan's room, you feel the need to apologize even though you're not sure why you're sorry.

'i'm sorry, peter. i tried telling ethan that we should take a break on our friendship but he won't let it go.' you threw him under the bus in a second and you don't care, from the looks of it neither does ethan.

'you can be friends with ethan. you should be friends with ethan.' it's the first time actually talking with him since the break up and it feels weird, he's too formal. he's being kind and reserved, he's pliant and you need some bounce back to feel normal.

'you always said i needed to unfriend him when we were together.' you might've tossed a taunt at him, you wanted a reaction. you wanted your peter and throwing the break up in his face might do it.

it works, his eyebrows furrow while his stature hardens. 'i said a lot of shit i didn't mean when we were together, trouble.' you point at him, your tone ice cold. 'don't.' you refuse to acknowledge the small spread of warmth at the nickname.

'you like ethan, ethan likes you. you guys are good friends, why should i fuck that up? i ruined enough shit for you. the least i could do is give you ethan.'

ethan could speak up to make a joke about how it's like he's a child of divorce or that he's a person, not a piece of property but it feels like you're both having a moment that needs to happen. even if there was a weird energy he was picking up on.

your eyes narrow, he's doing this for reasons beyond being a good person. you know him well enough to know that he has something up his sleeve.

'i can think of something else i'd rather you give me.'

you can see the heat brewing behind his eyes, you got him right where you want him. peter uses his serious voice, the one he uses instead of raising his voice but still demands your attention.

'we're not talking about this here.'

those two sentences just told ethan that whatever you were insinuating was what ended the relationship and peter's very upset stance solidifies his opinion.

'oh, trust me. you're not talking about it at all.'

'we're not unpacking this in front of ethan. i'm on my way out anyway, hang out with your friend.' peter tries to step past you but you circle around to step up with him and block his exit, his chest brushes yours for a second and it takes everything in you not to wrap your arms around him and sink your face into the body you once found homely.

'liar.' he doesn't want you to hang around and he wasn't leaving. you're met with a heavy sigh. 'yeah, probably.' you can't stop yourself, you lightly poke his chest and peter's head drops so he can watch your hold stick longer than it should've.

'be honest.'

'you might be ready to cut the cord but i'm not.' he'd rather keep you in his life as a tie through ethan no matter how sore it was. if you had ethan you'd never fully lose him and that kind of promise is the only thing he wants right now.

'neither am i.'

peter stares at ethan, 'shut up.' he's shunned into silence. you're starting to understand why peter said he wasn't going to unpack anything here, you look down at your hands and play with a ring on your finger.

you think peter wants to talk about it civilly but you don't think either of you are ready to do it yet without hurting either person's feelings even more than they already are.

but having ethan around is a nice way to keep peter close without damaging your healing.

'okay.' you take a deep breath and glance at ethan, who's still pouting on the floor keeping his eye line from peter. 'i guess we can hang out.' he lights up in a second, looking between you and peter in case either one of you vetoes it.

neither of you do.

'sweet! i have to repot these but i have some new templets in my basket, so if you want to pick one out and start i'll just catch up later.' you nervously look towards peter and immediately dart away when you make eye contact.

turning your back on him slightly, you feel a little better. there's something about him that makes you feel jittery, like when you were the first couple times you met up with him alone.

'i don't think being here is a good idea, maybe we should just stick to my dorm?'

'why? parker said he was fine with us hanging out.'

'because maybe parker was being nice and doesn't actually want to see me here?'

peter can speak for himself, and he'll use the correct name. in case you forgot. 'peter, is just fine with you being here. the only sucky part is knowing you hate me.'

you think he might be baiting you now but you can't help but set the record straight. 'okay, hold on now.' you speak very clearly towards him, you're not about to let him twist your words.

'i am a hundred different emotions towards you right now but i don't hate you. i think you know that, parker.'

'okay,' it's full of sarcasm. 'you have a goodnight, trouble. i'll see you later.' you bite your tongue and let him leave, if you didn't, you'd be making subtle shots at each other all night.

'your best friend is a dick.' the second you're alone. ethan shrugs, 'you were into that at one point.'

'no, no. if we're going to be friends you only ever sympathize with me about him, you're not allowed to bring up anything i did in the relationship.'

ethan has a pile of soil and a pile of shattered clay, you feel obligated to help him clean up. 'and for clarification, i'm supposed to sympathize with your ex boy toy when i'm with him?'

'absolutely not. you're on team me at all times. shame him if you have to.' the broken pieces land in his desk trash can. 'is this where i have to remind you he'd kick my ass?'

oh, you missed and loathe this so much.

'you're so whiny, clean quieter.'

'is it too late for you to ghost me again?'

'that's it. clean up your own mess, i'm going to make a crochet snake and not because it's the easiest but because that's how you're acting.'

ethan snorts and nods towards his wicked wicker basket of yarn, you're already eyeing different greens. 'be sure to make one for my twin next door.'

you do.

you leave it outside peter's door and while ethan never confirmed it, he knows you're the one who made it.

and it sleeps on his nightstand next to him every night. 

[zivazivc]

Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?

It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)

Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...

Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)

Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).

Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.

So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...

But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.

Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.

Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.

Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.

Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.

And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.

Anyway...

Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.

So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...

(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)

Yeah...

I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust:

[avatar-anna]

Nothing Left to Lose

saw this photo on pinterest and got inspired! happy weekend, y'all!

Masterlist

*.*

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Don't—Don't ask me that. Please."

"Why?"

Harry sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face, wincing when his fingertips came back with blood on them. "Because we promised not to lie to each other, and I don't want to give you an answer you won't like."

"Damn it, Harry!"

Y/n looked like she wanted to hit something, probably him, but he was too far out of reach. Angry tears lined her eyes as she took an anxious drag from the cigarette that dangled between her fingers, but Harry knew better than to go to her. She was pissed, and he needed to let her seethe properly before comforting her.

"I'm sorry—"

"You're not because you keep doing it!" A tear slipped from Y/n's eye, but she quickly wiped it away. "I told you I didn't want any part of this life. You said—You said you wouldn't do this anymore."

"This isn't something you just send your two weeks notice into, Y/n. I can't just say, 'I quit.'"

"Don't try to explain that bullshit to me, Harry!"

That was a wrong choice of words. Sighing, Harry took a chance and stepped closer to Y/n. "I'm trying, Y/n, really. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I am. I just don't...I don't know how to safely get out of this."

"Then let's run away," Y/n said, grabbing onto his hands desperately, neither of them minding the smoke curling between them. Harry's knuckles were split and bruised, dried blood caked around them, though most of it wasn't his, yet she held onto them anyway. Y/n had never been one to shy away from a little blood. "We can go somewhere, anywhere. The world is such a big place Harry. His network doesn't stretch that far. We can—We can forget all of this."

"It's not that easy—"

"He's using you!" she cried. "He's using you to get to me, you have to know that, Harry."

Harry held her face in his hands as he rested his forehead against hers. He knew nothing about the life they shared was easy. From the moment he stumbled into the bar she worked at, battered and bruised and reeking of trouble, he knew. Y/n had known right away that he was one of her father's men, even if the easily recognizable tattoo that curled around his shoulder and up his neck was covered thanks to the hoodie he wore. What she didn't know was that he'd been purposely tasked with keeping an eye on her, a direct order from her father. That little secret came out months after they met, after Harry realized he was falling for Y/n and that he couldn't hide it anymore.

This wasn't what he expected out of life. He'd fallen into the wrong crowd long before he ever should've, and it spiraled into a life he knew he shouldn't have been proud of. But the money was good and if he kept his head down he didn't get into any serious trouble. There were a couple nights where guilt kept him from sleeping, or when he lied awake in a safehouse because someone else fucked up and he had to disappear for a few days. Maybe his line of work wasn't something to be proud of, but he grew up believing he wouldn't amount to anything, and this life, the one he built for himself, was his and his alone.

All that changed when he met Y/n, though.

He'd never met her prior to the job her father had tasked him with. His boss' daughter was elusive at best, but it was well-known that they were estranged. But Y/n's father still considered her his greatest pride and joy, hence sending Harry to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. He'd taken the job, mostly because he couldn't really say no to his boss, but also because he thought it would be easy enough, stress free.

Falling in love was never the objective, yet here he was, and it killed him to see his love cry.

"I know," Harry said quietly, maybe even sounding a little defeated.

"I want a life with you, H," Y/n pleaded, resting her hands over his. "I want a long life with you without my father's shadow hanging over our heads. This...this isn't living. We're hiding."

"I know," he said again. "I know, you're right."

"I love you," Y/n said. "So much, H. That's why it freaks me out when you leave and come back like this. I...I hate what he does. He ruins people, Harry."

Part of him believed it was impossible to get out from under her father's thumb, and part of him was scared of leaving everything he'd ever known behind to start over somewhere new. But for Y/n, he was willing to try. A future with her was worth running into unknown territory.

Harry tried for a smile and kissed Y/n's forehead. "If it makes you feel better, I had a terrible night."

"Mm...Maybe a little," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Is persuading you to kiss it all away off the table?"

Y/n's smile softened into something more somber. "Promise me we'll run away."

Harry looked into Y/n's eyes, saw all the hurt that the cuts and bruises and blood he came home covered in affected her. He wasn't just looking out for himself anymore, Y/n was a part of his life he wasn't willing to give up. She was a non-negotiable, and making her happy had to be his top priority.

"We'll run away," he promised. "Wherever you wanna go, baby. Just you and me."

"Really?" she asked, as if she actually thought Harry wouldn't agree.

"Name a time and place, and we'll go," he said. "I love you, Y/n. I'm in this with you. All of that bullshit means nothing when I have you."

Y/n exhaled, and Harry could practically see a weight lift from her shoulders. Leaning in, she kissed him once, pulling back and giggling a little as she rubbed a thumb gently over the cut on his lip. Pressing one kiss to his cheek, she took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom they shared.

"Let's see about getting those cuts cleaned up."

"I've actually got one that needs really special attention—"

"Shut up, Styles!"

Harry just grinned as he took the cigarette from Y/n's offering hand and put it in his mouth, happy to hear the laughter in Y/n's voice. There was light for them at this long, winding tunnel. He believed in it, he wanted it enough to believe in it. Harry had never tried to leave this life behind because it was all he'd ever known, there was no reason to try to build a life outside of the crimes he committed. Y/n should've felt that way too, but she didn't. She wanted more for herself, and for him now too. Harry was willing to give up everything, to risk everything, to make sure he was happy, that he was able to give her the life that she wanted.

And if slipping between the fingers of the most powerful man in the city was what she wanted, then he'd find a way to make it happen.

[normal-internet-user]

RoTTMNT Donnie x reader with

🍰: "You're my new pillow."

And

🌩: "Just leave me alone!"

Good choices Anon! These are my two favorites!

GROUCHY DARLING

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You're a bit grumpy, but Donnie knows how to fix that<3

Warnings: Nah

Requested: Mhm!

GN Reader!

....................................

"Darling, please stop pouting... I swear I'll make it up to you." Donnie begs, sighing lowly as you avoid looking at him.

"You cannot undo what has been done." You state, crossing your arms with a low frown.

"It was one episode, dove-" He starts, but you cut him of with a dramtic flourish of your hand,

"One episode too many. We swore not to watch it without eachother, Donnie! Just leave me alone." You say, sulking over to the couch to continue your pouting somewhere comfy.

You had caught her boyfriend in the guilty act of watching your guys' show without you, granted, it was only one episode, but how many more would it have led too if he hadn't been caught?

Simply and truely unforgivable!

Well. Not really, but you were going to draw this out.

Donnie groans, making his way to stand infront of you he rest his hands on your knees, leaning down so you're face to face.

"I'm sorry, dove." He says, frowning, "Please don't be mad at me."

Dammit he's good. Oh well, forgivness is a virtue.

"Promise you won't do it again?" you ask softly, trying to keep a dead serious face.

"Promise." Donnie answers, mimicing your serious tone before his face splits into a grin. He kisses your cheek before, gently motioning for you to scoot, "Now move over, I want to finish this episode."

You hum, scooting over and snatching the remote, "We have to restart it, I missed half the episode."

Donnie groans, laying ontop of you with his head on your chest, "Fine. I suppose that's fair enough." He grumbles.

You giggle, shifting slightly to get more comfortable, but Donnie seemed to take that as an escape attempt.

"Don't move." He mumbles, glancing up at you before focusing back on the screen, "You're my pillow now."

"Oh really?" You ask amused.

He nods, wrapping his arms tight around you, "Yeah, now shush. Pillows don't talk, dear."

"My mistake."

"Shhhhhh."

....................................

Short and sweet! My favorite kind! 😋

[sirfrogsworth]

It's time to do another conservative joke analysis.

My analysis will be an objective critique from a comedy professional with nearly 20 years of experience writing jokes.

First, there is no such thing as a Liberal Thanksgiving. We all have that uncle. And I'm guessing for many, Josh is that uncle. If there is a family Thanksgiving somewhere that has entirely like-minded attendees, please invite me.

So the premise fails out of the box. Not off to a good start, Josh.

They/Them turkey. Is the entire joke here just... "Pronouns!"? The turkeys we eat are pretty evenly split male/female. If you were to use a pronoun to refer to them, they/them would make the most sense, as any sex characteristics have been removed. Giblets aren't what you think, Josh.

Crybaby cranberry sauce has decent alliteration, but there isn't really a joke there. Plus, everyone cries, even conservatives.

Sorry, I promised to be objective. Forget you saw that very funny thing just now.

Pronoun pumpkin pie is not only the "one joke" but also the "same joke" as they/them turkey. It's like going "why did the chicken cross the road?" and then two jokes later saying, "did you hear the one about the chicken crossing the road?"

This next one is confusing. Mommy milkers are just... big boobs. Is this person saying conservative women are all flat chested? This joke has no connection to the premise. I think at this point he thinks he has to stick to an alliterative theme, even though they/them Turkey ain't actually alliterative and he already screwed that up. It requires successive consonant sounds, not just the same letter at the beginning of each word.

Which leads us to Joe Biden jreen bean casserole. Initially everyone is going to think this is a typo. Once people realize he is trying to force alliteration, the joke is already ruined.

Stuffing is funny though. After that alliterative disaster, just giving up and saying "stuffing" is a solid button.

Overall, this tweet is actually very funny. But if Josh wanted people laughing *with* him and not *at* him, I don't think he succeeded.

[doctorcanon]

A little obsessed with the potential brotherly dynamic between The Captain and Mask. I know there are lots of other characters from the series in HW but hear me out okay?

Imagine being The Captain:

You take the strangest kid under your wing during the war. He's mostly unobtrusive. Mature for his age, quiet, but generally churlish. Can barely read (ill explain this HC one day) but fights like a demon and is clearly immensely troubled but doesn't know how to express himself.

You eventually connect over a shared burden and become rather attached to the kid. You're the only one he actually speaks to. Moreover, people have started calling you "the twins" even though he much younger than you. You teach him practical things like improving his reading, clothes mending and social graces. He teaches you about the natural world, herbalism and orienteering. You even give him a nickname "Mask" that he reluctantly answers to. But as the war wears on and the battles get harder, the boy has to rely on his masks more and more. Save for the one he calls Oni. He says its his failsafe and mentions nothing else.

Until one day, during the penultimate battle, you and your battalion are overwhelmed. Grievously injured, you call for Mask to get to safety. The next thing you remember is hearing "dont worry, captain, I'll protect you, i promise." Then flashes of a hulking demon laying waste to the battlefield with a helix shaped sword. You also remember a great and terrible silence and the sensation of being carried.

When you wake, Zelda informs you that the battle has been won but Mask along with several others, are missing. Even when the war is won and over, you search that battlefield, all surrounding areas and lists of the dead for any sign of Mask. You find nothing and eventually your duties as Captain must be seen to.

Three years later, you follow up on reports of an aberration found around the area Mask disappeared. The portal drops you unceremoniously into a Hyrule you don't recognize. You meet 8 others just like you, all named Link, each bearing the Mark of Destiny and honestly kinda sick of all this shit. The Oldest One - face heavily scarred and blind in one eye - holds your gaze for a little too long. When you ask him about it, he only apologizes awkwardly.

Needing some space during a particularly raucous night, you decide to check up on your party's resident Old Man who just so happens to be reorganizing his things. And you see it: Oni, the Fierce Deity; the War God that nearly won them the war but not the little boy who carried it.

"Where did you get this? Who gave it to you?" You ask. When he doesn't give you an answer, you insist. "That mask is one of a kind, and only one person I know had it, what happened to him."

The silence that follows is so thick, not even the Master Sword could cut it. The Old Man - Time, they call him - is taller than the rest of them, but his stature is bent by bone deep weariness. The scars on his face pull his features in different directions, the bridge of his nose is split, the remains of his empty eye socket droop painfully without his eye patch, the left corner of his mouth peel back to show more of his teeth - two of which are missing. But his remaining eye - bright, alert and unnervingly blue - pleads with him and the realization dawns on him before Time turns away, almost timid but mostly ashamed.

"He kept fighting, Captain. He kept fighting until he couldn't anymore and kept going. Until..."

You embrace him before you can stop yourself. He's just as surprised as you are. But he doesn't throw you off or scold you. Instead, he sinks into the hug with a long, shuddering sigh of relief. He's so tall now, he nearly bowls you over. Then quietly, through tears Captain can't see, he says

"I'm sorry...I thought you be disappointed." Your heart that was frantically picking up the piece just a moment ago breaks all over again. You can still hear that little boy buried in somewhere the gruff baritone you've grown accustomed to. Something bittersweet festers inside you, a melange of emotions you can't possibly unpack in this moment. But not one of them is disappointment. You pull away, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a little shake.

"You are so much more than I could've ever imagined. Whatever you've done, you survived and I couldn't be more proud."

[talesfrommedinastation]

My Redneck Neighbor Doug Writes Star Wars Smut/Fluff

Like a true, red-blooded American, I outsourced a task because I'm a lazy piece of shit overworked. I'm trying to write my own Mayday/Phee piece, but in the meantime....LSU absolutely curb stomping Florida last weekend had Doug practically skipping all over the block.

Doug was more than happy to write a piece for you PheeDay fans out there. He's eager to have y'all join his extremely rare of rarepair clubs.

Here y'all go, the Mayday/Phee piece, written ENTIRELY BY TEXT MESSAGE BY A CHUBBY OLD CAJUN ENGINEER NAMED DOUG.

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

"Shit? What’s smut? Does it involve butts? It can? Awesome. 

By the way, don’t tell my wife I’m writing this.

Church Lady’s on Coruscant. Sassy Park Ranger’s on break there too, because fuck that BLOND JACKASS and all the Jedi are MIA. They meet in a bar because Church Lady’s gotta watch the Saints game and Sassy Park Ranger found out they have 50 cent wings and he don’t get paid all that well watching the snow with his best friend, Daddy Warcrimes. 

(“The Saints? You know the NFL doesn’t exist in Star Wars land, Doug.” 

“IT’S MY STORY, I WRITE WHAT I WANNA WRITE!”)

She’s all “GOT A NAME, BROWN EYES” and he’s all “THE NAME’S SASSY PARK RANGER BUT YOU CAN CALL ME COMMANDER”. They split a basket of wings, because Church Lady’s got the confidence of a woman who knows where the shallow graves are located, and Sassy Park Ranger likes a woman who can suck a bone or two in front of him while keeping eye contact.

Yeah. If your woman can handle extra hot sauce on the first date you better get a ring ordered ASAP. 

Anywho, he’s so turned on by her eating these wings that he asks her to lick the sauce off his beard. She says treasure hunter’s don’t do that. He says the greatest treasure is found in the most unlikely of places.

So she begins to mouth-ram him and lick all the buffalo sauce off of that face fur. He runs his hands through her hair to see if there’s any weapons in there, because Sassy Park Ranger learned a thing or two in the field and Church Lady’s got dat WHO DAT energy.

You don’t mess with a Creole woman I tell you what and Sassy Park Ranger ain't no fool.  

(SAINTS NATION RISE)

Satisfied that they've freaked out all the aliens and shit at the bar, they end up at Church Lady’s hotel room. They get naked and do it and it’s so hot.

Um, yeah. It’s hot. Yeah. It’s so consensual, because I gotta include that. I don’t wanna get in trouble on the internet. And it's weird writing this out.

Don't tell my wife I'm writing this!

After they do it, Church Lady’s all ‘Let’s watch Space HBO’ and Sassy Park Ranger’s like ‘Yeah’, and they watch that show where white people yell at each other about money*.

They order room service and do it again, this time, in front of the poor droid bastard dropping off their food, because Sassy Park Ranger don’t give a crap and Church Lady likes an audience. Trust me. 

They exchange phone numbers, and text when they can and when they see each other they have wings and then wild-assed booty banging somewhere I don’t know where.

THE END!

("Where does that leave Ryan-from-Accounting? Don't you think Church Lady and him belong together?"

"Ryan-from-Accounting don't deserve that independent, smart woman."

"Oh?"

"He's got his bitch wife Laura and her KIA and his goofy brothers on the HMS Search Warrant. Let Church Lady have a hot bearded tanned park ranger who can lead and mouth off for the fun of it.")

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

There you have it folks. I could have asked for more, but I like knowing I can look Doug in the eye when I borrow his snow blower, and like in 'Game of Thrones', Winter is Coming.

I'll try to write my own, I promise!

Tagging some of Doug's greatest fans in here: @amalthiaph @megmca @skellymom @sued134 @merkitty49 @insertmeaningfulusername @thecoffeelorian @eyecandyeoz

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the future!

*= I think he meant 'Succession'?

[jennay]

Ex-Husband (2)

Bitter

An: Mentions of child loss. Also I tried editing this so many times and it never got better. I just kept getting frustrated. I ran through it one more time before being ok with this one. I hope you guys enjoy it though and I’m sorry it’s sad!

Master list

You look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, feeling self-loath. You remember Kieran's words: "Be yourself." But you don't want to be yourself. You want to erase your past and start over somewhere new. Somewhere where no one knows who you are or what you've done. Somewhere where you can lie and pretend to be a good person who never hurt anyone. Somewhere where you don't have to face the demons inside you.

You open the drawer, pull out the little bottle of your anxiety medication, and swallow two tiny pills.

Memories flood your mind as you walk down the hallway. You thought taking down the picture would've helped remove the pain, but it didn't. Now, you stare at empty walls, plagued by the traces of what used to be there. The faded outlines of frames and nails mock you with their emptiness. You stop at the closed bedroom and stare at it, feeling a knot in your throat. You don't know if you can ever enter it again. You don't know if you can face the reminders of what you lost.

You urge yourself to keep walking, and when you reach the living room, you snatch your purse and anything else you might need. You secure your doors and step outside.

Of course, it's raining as if today wasn't hard enough already. You pull your hood over your head and sprint to your car, swiftly unlocking it and tossing your stuff on the passenger's seat.

You start the engine, fastening the seatbelt with extra care. You've seen the consequences of a loose buckle and how a split second can change everything. You still feel the guilt gnawing at your chest.

You rest your head on the steering wheel and let out a shaky breath. “Damn it.” You curse as tears cloud your vision. You lean back and wipe them away. You have to keep it together.

Your phone rings through the Bluetooth speaker. You glance at the screen and see Rory’s name. You know what he wants but aren’t sure if you want to talk to him.

You sigh, knowing you’re breaking your promise. You’re not moving on; you’re still letting him contact you. Seeing him at Jazz's birthday party a few weeks ago almost sent you into another spiral. Why are you doing this? Were you that lonely?

You feel weak knowing you continue to let him text and call you, but at the same time, talking to him feels safe and almost comfortable.

Out of desperation for someone to soothe you, you answer.

"Hey," You say while pulling out of your driveway. You try your best to smile as you speak, hoping he won't hear the sadness in your voice.

"Hey, um. I was just calling to check on you. See how you're doing." He softly says, "Uh, how are you?"

Your eyes threaten to water again. "Shitty." You say, feeling like a broken record that keeps playing the same sad song over and over.

"Me too." He admits. "I was going to go visit her." You can hear the weakness in his voice as he tries to compose himself. "It being her birthday and all, I think she would like us there."

You never thought this was something you'd go through. You never knew heartbreak like this. If someone had told you ten years ago this would be your life, you would have laughed. Your life wasn't some fucked up tragedy.

"Yeah." You quietly say.

"Do you want me to meet you there, or can we drive together? I don't mind picking you up," Rory speaks with uncertainty. He didn't know how to talk to you anymore. He tried to keep things light-hearted and superficial, never getting too deep.

"I'm driving right now." You bite your bottom lip, wondering if you should offer to come to his house.

"Oh," Rory sounds surprised like he didn't think you'd leave bed today. "I can meet you there."

You deeply sigh, "Let me come pick you up. I'm close to you anyway."

"Yeah, I'll just get ready. Text me when you're here. I'll see you shortly."

"Yep, bye." You click the end button, unsure if you made the right decision.

You turn the radio on and do your best to escape your feelings as you continue to Rory's new home. The songs don't help you ignore your feelings like you'd planned. You turn off the radio and drive in silence until you arrive at Rory's house, and when you park on the curb, you text him. Here.

Seconds later, the door opens with a loud creak, and you slightly jump from the sudden sound. You look up and see Rory standing there, holding the door handle. He's wearing a gray zip-up sweater, flannel underneath, and plain blue jeans. He looks comfortable, but his eyes are tense and anxious.

You stare at Rory briefly before grabbing your things to make space for him. "Sorry. I have stuff everywhere." You speak fast as you try to throw some things in the back seat quickly. Talking on the phone was one thing, but sitting next to him brought feelings of discomfort.

“I thought it was supposed to be nice today…” He sighs, gazing at the dark clouds and the raindrops on the window. His voice tinged with sadness.

“The world doesn’t owe us anything.” You reply, sounding harsh.

You feel his eyes on you, searching and questioning you. The way you responded was unexpected. This bitter woman wasn't you.

You hate that he makes you feel weak and exposed and doubt your decisions.

“Stop.” You snap at him, trying to sound angry and confident but only sounding hurt and insecure. “Don't make me doubt myself for letting you in again.” You warn.

He shakes his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. He looks away from you as if avoiding your eyes. He breathes out heavily, revealing his exhaustion.

Rory knows this isn't the best time to bring this up, but he needs to get it off his chest, and after today, who knows when he'll see you again? “You know, I didn’t divorce you to hurt you.” He says in a quiet voice as if admitting a mistake. “I did it because I thought it would be better for both of us. I hoped you would heal and move on like I've tried to.” He meets your gaze again, his blue eyes filled with pain and longing. “I still love you and want the best for you.” He adds softly, making your heart clench. “But I couldn’t stay with you like this. It was tearing me apart to see you suffer and not be able to help you. I felt like I lost both of you.”

“So you decided to leave me alone in that house by myself with all of our things and all of her things and expected me to heal? How could you be so heartless?” You bite your lip, holding back the tears that threaten to spill. “You know what? Forget it..” You say, shaking your head. "I needed my husband...that's what I needed, and you walked away so easily."

“I didn’t want to leave you and it sure as fuck wasn’t easy! (Y/n), you stopped trying! She was gone for a full year! I didn’t know how to deal with it either. There was no guide for what we went through.” He tries to explain, but you can’t listen to him.

You scoff, “Yeah, right. Blame it on me. That’s what you always do. I get it!”

You pull into the cemetery’s parking lot and hastily park the car as if trying to escape him. The sky is a dull gray, reflecting your mood. The air is cold and damp, making you shiver.

You avoid looking at him as you leave the vehicle. You can feel his eyes on you, full of questions, when he sees you approaching him instead of walking away like you usually would. You pull the car door open and glare at him like you’re going to scold him, but your eyes soften when you see him lower his head, “You act like I don’t understand what you’re going through,” He whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “I lost Gracie too, remember?” He reminds you.

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and streaming down your face. "No, you don't understand. You don't have to live with knowing you're the reason she's gone." You say bitterly, feeling resentment towards him. "You have a life, a future, a chance to be happy again. I have nothing. Nothing but this pain that won't go away." You say, pointing at your chest.

He reaches out to touch your hand, but you pull away.

"Don't." You warn him. "Don't try to comfort me. Don't try to make me feel better. Don't try to pretend that everything is going to be okay because it's not." You say.

He gets out of the car and stands next to you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to him, ignoring your protests and struggles. He’s getting better at ignoring your spew of mean words.

He holds you tight as if afraid to let you go. He kisses the top of your head and whispers in your ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most.." His voice trembles with emotion. "But we can find a way to heal and move on." He says, hoping his words will reach you and make you feel something other than anger.

You stop fighting and let him hold you, exhausted and drained from the emotional turmoil.

"I'm tired of being like this." You mutter against his chest. "I don't want to be like this, but it hurts so much." You confess.

He gently rubs your back, trying to soothe you. "I know." He kisses your temple, feeling your tears wet his skin. "Let me help you."

But you don't want his help. You fear he'd abandon you again.

You shove him away, escaping his embrace. You stare at him with a blend of sorrow and fury. “You can’t help me.” You snap, turning your back on him. “I don’t deserve to be happy again.” You nearly choked on your words, part of you knowing it wasn't true.

Rory’s mouth falls open, stunned by your words. He watches you walk away from him, feeling powerless and hopeless. He wishes he could make you forgive yourself, but he knows he can’t. He knows he’s losing you and fears it won’t be just mentally much longer.

Part 3

[haircoveredwriter]

Episode 1X05 "Deux Amours" thoughts

(Warning: if I don't make sense in this post, I apologize. I've been trying to put this together for the past 20 mins but my brain has been fried by the episode it seems).

The fifth installment of the Daryl Dixon series is a GIANT - let me repeat this - G I A N T culminating expression of Daryl's fears/desires/drive to get home to Carol. If anyone was in doubt before they would have to be living in another dimension not to see it after "Deux Amours".

Starting with the conversations between Daryl and Azlan throughout the episode, Daryl's focus on getting home is clear. Our boy is still obsessed with finding a working radio for a specific call even in the flashbacks, but more on that later 😉. Azlan asks him about the promise he made which drives him on his journey to get back home, and Norman's acting of subtle reacting to the other man's points of (I'm paraphrasing) "sometimes a man's promise gets detoured around the realities of life" encompasses the tone of the entire show and the rest of the episode. "It's a home for the soul" If that isn't Caryl, I don't know what is.

When Laurent asks him about his friends there's an obvious pairing and splitting up of the groupings he chooses to answer with; Judith & RJ, Connie & Ezekiel, Carol. There are the kids, his friend ... and then " a woman named Carol". His pause and voice change upon saying her name warms my little shipper heart. If only Laurent hadn't jumped in so quick to continue the conversation. Look kid, the man was having a MOMENT! Read the room, sheesh. Lol.

I've haven't seen many bring this up but imo the young man at the gas depot during the flashback's was another huge planted plot point for Caryl. Daryl's whole thing has been how he needs to get home, and the kid is there "just trying to make it home to his girl". He promised he get enough gas to pick her up and take her away, the two of them together, out to California. Does that ring any bells to anyone???? NEW MEXICO IS STILL OUT THERE.

THAT radio call scene. Yes. Everything about it ... yes. I don't think I can do it justice trying to put it into words but @mcbride made a wonderful gifset of it for you to view or I know there are clips of the scene out there as well.

**Special recognition for the fact a lot of these Caryl callback scenes occurred by the river/while Daryl was in a make shift tent similar to the one at his s9 camp.**

Now we've reached the infamous Daryl/Laurent/the boat scene. I'm not going to get into a debate of whether he was wrong or right to go off on a kid like that; I'm going to deal solely with my perceived reasoning behind Daryl's actions. IMO finding the boat gone and subsequently that Laurent is the one who cut the rope was the straw that broke the camels back - so it were - for Daryl's emotions through the whole show about going home. Everything had been building up emotionally for Daryl until this point in the series; every past attempt to get home thwarted or delayed somehow, and having the person who he's supposed to be getting to The Nest where he will get what he's been after ... a way home ... blow things up in his face was too much to bear. The thought that maybe he may not actually get back to Carol overwhelming him and leading him to blow up at Laurent. I think the timing of this scene in the episode should also be taken into consideration, immediately after the radio call.

The groundwork has been laid out for Carol's reappearance in the season finale, whether that is in France or somewhere else that is still yet to be seen but all roads lead to Caryl.

[yournaothings]

I have a lot of wip, more for myself that I'll probably, most likely never share. But, I was thinking of all the little fics and stories I've been writing.

Undertale, my favorite Sans is Reaper. Yet, I haven't written anything for him. I have an idea for Reaper, but it involves Geno and Goth.

Basically, reader (totally a self insert by the way 👀) is roommates with Reaper and Geno. Simply because she needed a place to stay when she met Reaper. Of course he told her to move in before asking Geno.

Geno isn't happy about this, especially since Goth is about a year old now. Reaper letting a stranger in their home was reckless, but Reaper promised that reader was safe.

Reader moves in, she doesn't own a lot of stuff, so it's easy and mostly stress free. She has a decent job, getting paid minimum wage. She buys her own food and once in a while will cook for Reaper and Geno. (This doesn't happen until after Geno warms up to her.)

Eventually, Reader agrees to babysit Goth. Here is where it gets messy. With more free time, Geno is able to do more and have more time alone (without Reaper around too, lol.) but, Goth starts loving on reader; because she sings to him a lot. So, Goth recognizes her voice and will want her.

Example; Reader wakes in the middle of the night to hear Goth crying. She goes in to check on him; after she cares for him and warms him up something to eat, she lays on the sofa in the living room while cradling him. They fall asleep there.

Geno wakes in the early morning- the sun isn't up yet. He panics and wakes Reaper. "Goth is missing!"

Reaper isn't too concerned, but he does get up and help Geno search for Goth. He could have climbed out of his crib- after all, he was an adventurous little guy.

Geno rushes into the living and sees Reader cradling a snoozing Goth, while she sleeps. He's well protected, positioned to where when he moves or tries to escape, she'll wake up.

Reaper awes, and is quick to snap a picture cause it's so cute!

Geno is /pissed/ but doesn't voice it- his face sure does show it though. Reaper is not bothered. Geno gently removes Goth from reader which startles reader awake. Geno walks away while Reaper calms the reader's worries.

Days go by, reader notices that Geno is giving her the cold shoulder and isn't allowing her to help with Goth unless Reaper has Goth.

And of course, this makes Reader upset. She goes to Reaper about it. "Is Geno angry with me?"

"of course! He's just been busy with other things-"

"Geno acts like I'm going to steal Goth, Reaper. Did I... Overstep?"

"no, of course not. Don't worry about it, I'll talk with him. He's not angry."

Reader isn't convinced, but is left to let it go for now. Until she over hears Reaper and Geno talking about the issue.

"Of course I'm angry! Goth is /my/ child! I'm the parent! She doesn't need to worry about caring for Goth."

Reaper isn't upset and only grins. "She just wanted to help. Don't be angry, just let her know when you need help-"

"I don't need it."

"....you're jealous that Goth has been wanting to spend more time with reader, aren't you?" Reaper finds this funny and tells Geno this. It makes Geno more upset but Geno eventually promises to talk to reader.

Reader hears most of the conversation and walks away. She decides maybe it's best to move out. She's causing problems with Geno and she doesn't mean to. Last thing she needs to do is split the two up.

Reader leaves for work early the next morning, Geno isn't able to speak with her until she comes home. However, it comes to a surprise when she does come home that she tells Geno that she's found a new apartment.

"I can give my next month's payment before I leave."

"Wha- why are you leaving?"

Reader is uncomfortable with confrontation and starts to get nervous and twitchy, ready to run away if needed. (And trust me, in her head, it's needed.)

"... I think I have overstayed my welcome here. So, I figured I'd find somewhere else to live."

Geno is stunned, speechless. All the while, Goth is in his arms, cooing cutely between the adults. He has no idea the stress they're feeling.

"No- reader. You haven't-" He sighs and begins to apologize for his behavior. "I'm just don't want Goth getting hurt." While it's true, he didn't tell her /everything/.

Reader is tense, but soon relaxes. "I understand being protective. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions-"

She doesn't move out. From then on, her and Geno are on better terms and Reaper is ecstatic about it.

Then begins the love interests.

I know this is pretty messy, this is kinda how I get my plots put down before writing. 😅 Anyway, if anyone is interested in seeing more of this story, let me know.

Fun fact, by the way. My intentions when beginning stories is writing for she/her but I always end up with "they". Which is weird cause I never used to write like that. But, in the end, it makes me happy cause then /everyone/ is able to enjoy. I hope, anyway.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Closer

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: Mike makes good on a promise to take you somewhere nice for the weekend.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, some cheesy lines, the story behind that kiss people were curious about, a back rub, nudity... I don't think I have to tag anything 18+ yet.... hm...

A/N: Well... I'd say I'm sorry but I'd be lying... (But we're getting there, I promise.)

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @mayloma @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @peyton-warren @livisss @ylva-syverson @sweetandgentlecreature

“So,” Mike continues his story as he pours the last of the bottle of wine you’d shared over dinner, “my mom tried to throw a chair at his head when she found out, but it turned out to be a really heavy chair she couldn’t lift, so that plan went down the drain real fast… In the end, she just kicked him out and had the locks changed the same night.”

“Wait, so your dad had several side pieces and your mom still stayed with him?” you ask in disbelief, stressing that if Mike tried to pull that shit on you, you’d at least castrate him. “And I’d find a lighter chair to throw.”

First, he laughs, but then his face turns serious again: “She didn’t stay with him. They were actually divorced for nearly ten years.”

“And they got back together?”

Mike nods. “Yeah – which mom didn’t tell me about, so I just about strangled dad when I saw him in the kitchen somewhere halfway through my second year of college… I’m still not completely used to living with the guy again.”

“So your mom kissing Sy was… when they were still split up?”

“Yeah…” It’s immediately obvious that Mike doesn’t really like to talk about this. “There was this guy, Dave, she was with him for a while. He tried really hard to be my dad, which I didn’t like, so I was glad to see him go. I had just started college when he broke it off, and it left my mom in a bad place, because things had been getting serious and whatnot.” Mike sighs as he remembers the story. “Then one night she’s been drinking and Sy shows up because he’d promised her to take a look at her car or some shit… She kissed him. And then me, Will and Evan walked in on that.”

“I can’t even imagine what the worst part of that must have been,” you say as you stare at Mike wide-eyed.

“Oh, that’s easy!” he says immediately. “The worst was by far the fact that Will and Evan – for the next six months – wouldn’t shut up about Sy becoming my new step daddy.” The way he says it is so amusing that you almost spit your wine over the table.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing,” you say.

“No, that’s pretty much the only thing that works,” he laughs. “We still joke about it. I don’t always appreciate it, but… My dad was even worse about it than I was, he couldn’t look at Sy for a while after he heard about what had happened. They’re cool now though.”

Mike downs the last of his wine right when you take your last sip, and as soon as you put your empty glasses on the table, the atmosphere in the room changes. You look at Mike, and he stares back at you, but neither of you says anything.

Finally, Mike breaks the silence: “I’m, eh… I’m going to take a shower. You can hang on the couch while I’m gone, if you want…”

“Mike,” you say, one eyebrow raised. He looks up at you and hums. “I’m going to wait for you in bed.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush anything…” Oh for fuck’s sake! You cut him off immediately.

“Mike! We’ve been trying to hook up for nearly two months now! We’re a solid six weeks past rushing anything.” You get up and walk over to him. As soon as you’re standing behind his chair, you throw your arms around his neck and bend down to put your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait any longer.” Mike shivers and swallows hard when you put your lips on his neck. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me right now?”

“Eh…” He looks embarrassed when he speaks again. “I really need that shower…” Oh? Oh. Right. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this for weeks.

Your heart flutters when you hear the water turn off, and it doesn’t take Mike long to appear in the doorway. He’s wearing those goddamn grey sweatpants from that thirst trap with the turtles – and the legion of shameless pics after that. It’s annoying how good he looks in those sweats.

The night of the campfire had already shown you his hair gets adorably curly when wet, but it somehow looks even better today. You swallow hard when he walks towards the bed and climbs in. With a remote you hadn’t noticed, he turns off the big ceiling light of the room, and strings of fairy lights come on that are wrapped around the posts of the bed.

“Safer than candles,” Mike says, “ask my mom how they came to that conclusion.”

“I don’t want to talk or think about your parents right now, Mike,” you laugh. “Had a nice shower?”

“Very,” he says with a big grin on his face, “did you enjoy yourself in the meantime?” The real answer is ‘no’, but you’re not going to tell him that. Every second he spent in that shower, you spent getting worked up over whatever is going to happen now that he’s out of the shower – which means you’re both horny and terrified right now. What if those past weeks have sent your expectations soaring, and everything is going to be a major disappointment?

With great difficulty, you push away those thoughts, taking a deep breath before leaning over to kiss Mike. Unfortunately, he’s already picked up on your nerves.

“You look a little tense, baby,” he mutters after giving you a small peck on your lips. Something in his tone tells you that he knows just the thing to get you to relax. He reaches for the drawer of the nightstand and pulls out a bottle you can’t read the label of. “Turn around, lose the top,” he commands. Shit.

“Eh…” You had a plan. That plan included a new set of lingerie that cost you half of your last paycheck, and you had planned on actually showing that to him… but not like this. On another note: Why does he have to pick up on your distress immediately?

“Ooooh, what are you wearing underneath those pajamas?” he muses, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pulling you close. Curious hands slip underneath the satiny fabric of your babydoll, exploring the lace of the one-piece you have on. “Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see, lemme see…”

“Mikey!” you shriek when he pulls you down onto the mattress and practically rips your pajamas off your body.

“This is very nice, Sweetcheeks,” he says when he’s finally looking at you in the black body you’d picked out for the occasion. He’s trying really hard not to let you know how impatient he is to get you out of it, but he fails miserably, because he’s incredibly impatient to get you out of it.

“All of this is wasted on you, isn’t it?” you ask.

He smiles apologetically. “It’s covering up what I like best about your body,” he pouts. “Boobies shouldn’t be confined to uncomfortable lace and underwire contraptions! They should be free!”

“A big feminist and supporter of the ‘Free the Nipple’-movement, I see,” you tease.

He smirks down at you and shrugs. “Listen, that has nothing to do with this. I like this thing, I appreciate the effort, but I still want to take it off. Is that wrong?”

You shake your head and pull him in for a kiss. “It’s not.”

“I’m happy I got to see it. It looks really good on you, and it’s going to look even better on the floor.”

“Oh! Cheesy cliché, no boobies for Mikey!” you push him off and turn around. Wrong move. His hands are at the back immediately where he undoes the clasp of your underwear and somehow pulls it down seemingly effortlessly, and flings it somewhere.

“I was, like, super disappointed about the ‘no boobies’ thing, but now that I see your ass…” You shriek in surprise when Mike somehow manages to bite your butt.

“Don’t bite me!” The hand you throw back towards where you know his head must be hits Mike right in the forehead.

“Don’t hit me!” he retorts, wrapping his arms around you. He’s on top of you now, you’re both laughing, neither of you is in a comfortable position, you’re naked – he’s not, and the whole situation is silly to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. Mike pretend-attacks your neck, playfully growling and sort of tickling you…

“Unhand me, you deeply unserious man!” you laugh, and Mike stops – it makes you sad, even though it’s exactly what you asked for.

“What kind of an insult is that?” he asks, and you shrug. It wasn’t meant as an insult, per se. Mike rolls off you again and lies down next to you. “Am I ruining the mood?” he asks sincerely.

“Not at all!” you answer. “I like when you’re like this! You’re funny and sweet. And – correct me if I’m wrong – you’re silly like this with your cats, too. And with your friends. With all the people you care about. I like that I’m one of them.”

Mike looks at you as if you just lit a block of ice on fire. “I’ve heard ‘obnoxious’, ‘annoying’, ‘immature’, ‘weird’… all kinds of shit. But never ‘funny and sweet’.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve been dating the wrong girls.” You know for a fact he’s been dating the wrong girls, because until now, none of the girls were, well… you.

“Yeah,” Mike sighs before propping himself up on his elbow. “If I remember correctly, I was on my way to giving you a back rub when you annoyingly put nice lingerie in my way. You still want in on that?”

Would ‘I want you to rub the inside of my pussy with your cock’ be too crude a reply to that? You quickly decide against the answer and just respond to his question with a decisive nod. As impatient as you are to get laid… That back rub does sound nice.

Mike’s hands are absolute magic; they’re big and strong and putting pressure in all the right places. Of course, he’s also relentlessly teasing you with soft touches, trailing his fingers down your spine, making you shiver. Soon, his tongue follows suit, trailing your shoulder, and you’re left wondering… “Don’t you have a mouth full of disgusting massage oil now?”

“Sweetcheeks, puh-lease,” he says, and you can hear the eyeroll in his voice, “I came prepared! This stuff is edible.” Of course it is!

“Can I try it?” Zero style points for your reaction – it’s a little too enthusiastic. As you turn slightly, you feel Mike’s hips grinding into your ass, and for the first time you notice he’s hard. How did he do such a good job at hiding that when he was literally sitting right on top of you?

Without thinking you stick your tongue out when his thumb comes within reach of it, and equally thoughtlessly, you suck it into your mouth, leaving Mike sitting there, wide-eyed and with open mouth, groaning softly as you swirl your tongue around his finger. He was right, the oil is edible. It tastes sweet, fruity… Like mango?

“Fuck, Sweetcheeks,” he moans, “do those skills transfer?” You can’t get mad at that – in fact, you have to try really hard not to laugh. When he pulls his hand back, you’re disappointed – which gets even worse when he turns you back onto your stomach, pressing his lips to your neck and whispers: “I wasn’t done with you.”

He continues where he left off, and just when you’re about ready to melt into the mattress under his touch, he moves down…

“Mike, this is not a back rub anymore,” you laugh when his hands move over your ass, squeezing everywhere they can reach. It still feels nice, but… No, just that. Feels nice, that’s all.

“I never said I was going to stop there.” His voice comes from further down than you think, and then he sinks his teeth into your ass cheek again. You moan loudly as Mike keeps working your lower back and ass. When he eventually moves even lower, to the back of your thighs, you clench your legs together. “Let me touch you,” he moans as he slowly kisses a trail over your ass and up your lower back.

“Are you going to tease me?” you ask softly.

“Relentlessly, I promise,” Mike chuckles while making his way back up. From there, he pays attention to your arms and hands – interesting and very relaxing to the point where…

“Mike, I’m going to doze off if you keep going,” you sigh, when it becomes obvious that your legs are getting the same treatment. Without thinking, you turn around when he sits at the foot of the bed, and he pulls both of your feet into his lap. The backrub was great, but this? “Wow,” you moan – loudly.

Mike takes his time with every part of your body, and you silently curse yourself for teasing him for being impatient. Nothing about him right now is even slightly impatient. Well. One thing about him is impatient… His girlfriend.

Finally – fucking finally – he lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder, placing soft, teasing kisses on your skin, from your ankle all the way to your thigh and then… He makes his way up your stomach and chest, until his lips are on yours again.

“No, Mike, this is unfair, go back down,” you whine in between kisses.

“Eh,” he mutters, “I – eh – I don’t…”

“You don’t what?” you ask. “Go down?” Slightly disappointing, but not a complete disaster, why is he acting so… shy and insecure?

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.” For a moment, you think that’s it, but then he lies down next to you, burying his face in your neck. “Remember the horrible bitch ex? She told me I was no good at it and shouldn’t bother doing it again, and I’ve never… I’m scared to fuck it up now, and also scared to tell anyone, so whenever I got with a girl after that, she thought I was an asshole for not eating her out and… Please don’t think I’m a jerk, please?”

“Mikey,” you say sternly, “I don’t think you’re a jerk. I want to punch that whore in the face, though.” He hums softly when you circle your fingers over his scalp. “If you ever want to try again, I’ll tell you what I like?”

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Dont tease me, great sage

The rise of a new gear sage was a once in a lifetime occurrence that was filled with joy and promises of prosperity for the akademia but for al-haitham it was the beginning of another headache.

Wc: 3k

Notes: honestly i started out really liking the idea and starting with fluff in mind, then it turned to hurt confort then to angst and somewhere along there I just wanted to finish and gave it an open ending hahaha

Other than that it's just al-haitham acting as an intj and reader trying to flirt but failing

As if the stars combined themselves just right to bother him, al-haitham was given the 'honor' to lead a translation team because the guy that was chosen not too long ago became a father. And if that was little the newest great sage seemed more interested in playing 'love island' around his section than working. He sighs only thinking about you and your bothersome behavior

To the meetings where he would explain the findings of his team as the leader

" Well, this book is… this book represents the, the early beliefs of-" it seemed that even with the prior knowledge of the meeting he wasn't able to complete everything for the exposition without pulling several all nighters in a row and his brain still was foggy from sleep regardless of how many cups of coffee he gulped down

He was grateful enough that none of the sages had commented or noticed his behavior until he felt a cryo slime slide down his spine and a evil laugh leave you, the newest sage and the person he was looking at when he was presenting the findings

He swears he saw an evil grin split your face and darkness crowd your face "Aww, you’re stuttering so much, are you going to explain the book or confess to me?"

Al-haitham was taken aback, and was half a step away from entering a crisis until you laughed out

" Hahahaha, don't be so nervous, I'm just pulling your leg~!" You lean back in the chair and look towards the other three grand sages that joined the meeting " how about we give him 30 minutes to sleep or something before we resume, in the meantime we can go to that cafe your assistant told me about"

" Oh! I think he didn't mean it as a recommendation but that is a wise idea, right now there is little people "

" I heard they brought mondstrat juice yesterday, we could go" the oldest sage answers, scratching his beard " well, of course, only if the scribe agrees to this little break

Al-haitham is dubious about the scenario he was in right now, he has heard of teachers offering the choice to their students but failing them or kicking them out of the study program of they took it

" If that is what the sages want i can't prohibit you" opting for a neutral choice he sips his almost empty coffee mug as if he didn't care

Putting on the coat that was resting on the chair's back you sit up "well~ he said he doesn't mind, and it isn't as if there were more expositions left today, we can take as much as we want~" you stretch your back and head to the door slowly to leave time for the other two to refuse your offer

The oldest of the bunch searchs inside his bag and grabs a leather wallet, already sighing " I guess as the oldest amongst us I have to pay fifty percent of the bill, again?"

The two of them walk out of the room, leaving him and you alone " well, you earned yourself 30 or so minutes so make the best out of them" for one second al-haitham is purely relieved to be able to sleep even if only a few minutes but the little smile you have annoys him already

" Well, see you soon, handsome" you say as you leave the room. Al-haitham can already feel his eye twitching at the same rhythm of your laughs. He isn't very sure whether you are laughing at him, about calling him handsome or about this being of your recurrent 'jokes' that left some scholars blushing and close to passing out

Sitting down on one if the wooden chair and lifting his feet on another chair

Soon after he hears the quick drag of clothes and sandals inside the room and he closes his eyes to fake being asleep "sir al-haitham?" He recognizes that voice, it's the young assistant that the oldest sage took in soon ago. He remembers hearing something about an affair with a desert woman and a love child but he didn't care about it that much " do you know where sir Namkuzu and sage YN went?"

He only grunted some loose words like cafe, juice and Mondstrat to which he heard a small gasp followed by a light pitter patter against the floor

" Oh, I forgot to say thank-" Gitlam, the secretary, pops his head inside but finds him asleep so he soon leaves to join you three in the cafe

Or how annoying you are talking about things he doesn't care or have the slightest interest in

It's now 6 pm and his team takes another break to have a light snack and some coffee, he stays behind a bit, sorting some papers and some admissions requests but after a good 30 minutes he heads to the room that was filled with his team members

" Oh! Al-Haitham is here, someone pour him a cup of coffee!" Someone quickly yells from the tables of behind to which someone sits up and head to the table only to lift an empty pot

" There is nothing left"

He sighs tiredly " I will go ask if there is any coffee in the back, all of you return to work" quickly getting away the researchers returned to their stations and started reviewing material

" Oh?" The dreaded voice came from the door " is there no coffee?" To which Al-haitham nodded " why don't you try this" you press a tea bag In front of his face the slightly floral scent tickling his nose

" I don't drink thing if dubious source"

"Ah!" You grasp your chest, as if his words had somehow physically broken it in two pieces " you hurt me deeply! I just want to share my beloved tea but you must be so mean towards me. I'm going to cry for real!"

" If i drink it will you stop bothering"

" As soon as you finish drinking i won't bother you no more"

Al-haitham unpacks the tea bag and pours hot water over. He grabs the mug and sets himself in the table facing the window, hopeful that he might be able to catch up on some reading but his natural light source suddenly went dark, only to lift his eyes and see you smiling

" Did you know those leaves are special? These are so hard to come by because the leaves are picked while they are still young and supple" al-haitham looks straight intro your eyes, trying to find if you were planning on stopping

" Those flowers are quite good themselves, they are qingxing in full bloom, quite hard to collect" looking at the water slowly infusing with the tea al-haitham doesn't wait one second and chugs the barely brewed tea

"Ah!" You yelp when you see him, eyes wide with surprise

" Thanks for showing your kindness, great sage" he cleans his mouth, and leaving the break room "I will return to work in mediately" he sees the other way and finds the sage Namkuzu and Gitlam talking towards him, or the room he was standing in front of, specially

Slowly walking towards the wing his team was in and in the distance he hears a muffled 'oh? What is this tea?'

Or how bothersome you were when you came to his desk every day to leave a cup of coffee

" Good morning ~" a singsong voice says from above him and al-haitham doesn't look up

" Don't be rude! When someone speaks with you at least reject them face to face"

His green eyes focus on your own " leave." Before returning to his work

"Tsk! And here I was, giving you a coffee as a nice gesture!"

" You have been coming here to bring me coffee for the last three weeks. It has gotten old at this point"

" If you keep this up you are going to die alone, ya know?"

" Cut it" a smile rises to your mouth as you start poking his arm

"Oooh~, do I annoy you?"

"As much as usual."

"Oooh, aren't you the cutest? This time you didn't tell me to eat a wither zone core~"

He directly ignores you " whatever I'm leaving, i have to finish some paperwork".

"Wow. You work? I haven't seen you grab one pen in at least a good three months "

"Quit it! Your smart mouth is going to get you in problems at some point"

He only musters a light smile " whatever you say"

" I should tell gizzal to fire you and hire someone nicer!"

" As if you would" he pinches your arm " we both know you would get bored"

Or that time you were almost begging on your knees because you forgot your coat and it was raining

" Al-haitham!" You say animatedly and louder than usual to try and be heard above the noise of the rain hitting the windows "you know you are my favorite scribe, right?~"

your smile was tight against your face, he already knows that face from the students trying to ask him to accept their request even when they forgot to fill the paperwork. Bracing himself for the whatever you were going to ask

"can you-?"

"No"

" Can you at least let me finish talking?!"

" Fine. What do you want?"

" Can you lend me your jacket? It's raining and I need to run an errand really quick and-"

"No"

" You have a vision! you can better withstand the environment! Plus it's just for 40-! No 30 minutes, pleasee!"

"And? I don't care. I also want to leave in five minutes at worst"

Al-haitham notices namkuzu and Gitlam walking down the hallway and the sage sending his assistant before he starts walking again

Gitlam quickly ran towards where you two were. Al-haitham couldn't help but be reminded of a child running because they are late to school and their hat flopping up and down

As soon as he snaps out of that image he finds him beside you, worried face plastered " sage YN did something happen? I can help!"

Your eyes widens, be it because you were surprised or taken aback from his eagerness to help al-haitham wasn't totally sure

" Oh how sweet~ I was just asking this grumpy old man" your thumb pointing al-haitham " if he would lend me his coat because a member of my team need help but they are at the port so I would have to walk down the rain a good 200 meters" you sigh dramatically

In response Gitlam starts stripping down his coat and handling it to you " you can take it! Either way it was a bit too big for me and we have to get another one done" he starts sputtering excuses, trying to make it seem like it wasn't much

"Oh? Are you sure? Won't you be cold? Even inside here it's quite chilly"

" I mean if you don't mind we could go together, sir Namkuzu asked me to get some reports about the strength of the waves from the port so we could walk together, obviously if you dont mind i would never force you but I would enjoy it very much but-" quickly you put your hand in his shoulder and, as a pause button, Gitlam stopped talking almost instantly

" I would really enjoy getting some company, just let me grab my bag. If you want as a reward I will gift you a coffee" you turn just as he looks toward the window, seemingly the sea being the most interesting thing right no

Al-haitham, who watched all this just sipped his coffee " kids these days and getting crushes on their superiors"

Why couldn't he just focus on his duties while in the clock and then find a cute girl or boy from literally anywhere else? The newest scholars don't have good work ethic, and as funny it's that he is flirting with a sage to try and get a better job you should also not encourage him and cut it from the bud

Also, why would he go for you, no offense but young boys who just finished their thesis should go and play around with cards and get blackout drunk. It's even a bit weird age wise, well thinking that though it wasn't, Gitlam was only around 3 or 4 years younger but either way, he remembers the gossiping bunch in the break room talking about preferring older, more sophisticated and well read men rather than just graduated boys. Gitlam graduated from the academia a year ago at the young age of 21 or 22? He knows basically nothing and makes so many mistakes… you truly lack taste, there are so many good bachelors, ushar, zua, temen, himself. he laments silently

He gets annoyed thinking about you, or so he swears but his teammates noticed how down cast he looked when your team left to mondstrat

He wants to swear that he is only feeling like that because if he went he would be mostly idle in the most lax nation in teyvat but he feels slightly disappointed? Betrayed? That you chose to bring Gitlam but didn't even stoped to think about him.

And he swears you told him you would pick him 'Oh~ with such a cute face i may just add you to my team to Mondstrat even just to see you' textually you said

The four months the research team was supposed to take felt like they were dragging and taking years, the days were up and you, your team and that boy arrived to the gates in the early hours of the morning and he swears something isn't quite the same, maybe it's the way you joked less with your coworkers, how less touchy you were with them, your almost hour long hugs now being strictly polite 10 seconds long, or how you stopped coming by his desk everyday

The hour is 6:03 just about time he took his break, before pulling another all nighter. He stands up and walks around, stretching his sides. It's odd for you to not come already, you would be here already by 5:50 or 6:00 the latest but maybe you were too busy working and forgot he could bring you a cup, for a change maybe.

Pouring a warm cup of coffee he leaves to your office, usually you stay inside there all day, unless you stopped by to bother him.

Softly pushing the door he looks inside, there are some pens and pages still thrown around, so you surely were close but he didn't see your bag anywhere. Softly sighting he leaves the cup on one corner and hopes that you will get it while it's still warm

" And so I told him he was looking wrong! And he had the guts to be mad!" Your voice sounds from behind the door as you open it " oh? Al-haitham? Why are you here? Do you need help with anything?"

He was about to answer when he sees Gitlam behind you " nothing. I just came to drop something by but you weren't here. Where were you?"

" Oh, we just went to have dinner, Gitlam got an special offer to study in his field and we went out to celebrate. Why do you ask?"

If looks could kill Gitlam would have already had his throat sliced and be ten feet below " nothing"

Or how distant you seemed with him

"oh, it started to rain" was all you said as you looked at the window, raindrops racing to see who teaches the bottom faster

Al-haitham only looks to the side " mhm, it seems like that" quickly glancing towards the clock he notices that you often leave around this hour " you are leaving in a bit right? Do you want my jacket and you can return it to me tomorrow"

"Oh, thanks but Gitlam brought a coat for me when he saw the weather report so i won't need it"

"Oh, ok …" now he stopped writing only looking at the paper as if it had cussed at him " you and him seem to be really close…" but when he said that you already left to look for that dumb secretary and his dumb coat.

I mean, at the end if the day he was only a secretary and he was a scribe and former acting grand sage who you stopped by to speak with every so often, sure you didn't stop by everyday, not brought him coffee but you always came to notify him of the progress in your project and such, sure maybe it's mostly formal but it's because he got annoyed at you for getting so chatty about your cat and the tea you just bought

But after a while he started getting snappier, you only came by to greet him whenever you had to speak with gizzal which could be once a week or once a month.

And the worst part was that he knew you weren't busy, he saw you chatting with Gitlam every afternoon all day. He is sure gizzal sent him to give archives at that hour because he knew you two would be grossly cuddly with each other

One day he just snaps, hearing you laugh at the brainless joke your supposed admirer made. Why did you laugh at that kindergarten joke about dendron slimes and boogers but you didn't even mister a smile with his joke about the thermodynamics pressure of the gas. Surely it's that brat's fault. In a fit he grabs your arm and drags you out of your office and outside the akademia

" Can I ask what the hell is wrong with you or are you going to act as if THAT was normal?"

"Do you dislike me so much that you don't even want to see me?" Had you not known better you could have sworn his eyes were a bit foggy

" What?"

" You said you would bring me to the expedition even if just to look at me, but you didn't. Do you dislike me?"

" Al-haitham" you start to rub circles in your temple, as if trying to erase a headache "I was obviously joking, my expedition was about fossils and archeology. Tell me, how much would a scribe help exactly?

" But you brought Gitlam"

" Yes, because he wants to study archeology and Namkuzu asked me to bring him with me"

" Then why did you stop visiting me every day… why is that boy now the object of your affections but I barely get looked at?" His voice got raspier

"So you knew i like you but ignored it anyway." You cross your arms Infront of your chest, offended "You just want me to pin your you to get your ego up, you don't want to date me and that is fine but you can't refuse me my own feelings!" Al-haitham tries to run away from your gaze but you don't plan on letting him off the hook so easily

"But then how come someone like him gets your attention but I don't. I'M worthier of your love!"

"So you just think my love is a trophy of how is worthier? Al-haitham, do you truly like me or you just want me to never move one?!"

[basedkikuenjoyer]

A Tale of Two Hannya: Art Imitates Life

These are always kind of a trickier beast to write because by design the comparison casts a more negative light on a popular character. But they tend to be well received. Living near the path of peak totality for the big US eclipse, had me wanting to finish this one sitting in my drafts because well...we have both sun & moon themes as well as a dynamic of "upstaging" each other. Which is kinda cool. I really do think, when taken together, Kiku & Yamato give you one of the most interesting dynamics in this massive series despite the two faces almost never appearing together.

Let's step back a little though. Why? Why would our author structure so much of Luffy's story in Wano through the top two new faces for the arc? Almost splitting Luffy's story in half with mirror opposites; humble and helpful followed by flashy yet flawed. Pitting organic bonding against the spotlight. A very straightforward and earnest trans woman foiled by a deliberately inconsistent and ambiguous character falling somewhere you'd call transmasculine. Our Crane Wife and our Dragon's King's Daughter, forget the plot of One Piece for a moment...what's the reflection of our world they mirror?

As gross as it is to compare oneself to Doflamingo, I promise I'm going somewhere with this. And, to be fair I can think of a few specific people who'd make that type of comparison about me. I like to think I use my powers for good, but anyone with them would say that. Touched on it a little with the Otohime side story but over the 2010s I had my little strings in just about every corner of LGBT activism throughout a region that's now a solid gay haven in a conservative state. For the first half of that decade, it was thrust upon me because people saw how solid a representative a young, cute, well-spoken lady would be at diffusing old stereotypes. An MA in Political Science helped too.

Because it's currently Ramadan still, I'd like to share one story I feel was a high watermark and how it rippled in a way that is gonna shape my outlook here. When I noticed there was a shift. One I felt trepidation about aspects of initially and today feel vindicated seeing how Gen Z views their elders. It was Ramadan a fair few years ago now, while part of a board for something I got to know a local Muslim leader and his wife. They were used to inviting other community leaders to join them for Iftar, the fast-breaking meal. They wanted to show their young progressive members they were listening and respectfully invite someone trans, remember these are often very sex-segregated places. Even if there were some livid hardliners most of the women really liked me and you could tell it meant a lot to some of the older teen girls who really wanted to square more progressive beliefs with their faith.

Late 2010s, so if I told you there was backlash in queer circles guess who. More or less entirely people who'd fit that college radfem to transmasc mold. "I'd have gone to the women's side in solidarity and liberated those oppressed women being soo radical." "Don't you think what Rhea did was you know, kinda problematic? If I have to explain to you how it's low-key cultural appropriation I don't even..." "They only picked her because she acts like a little Barbie doll." Yes, that last one is peak feminism. They can call me wicked if they want; at least I was called to serve while they were all just rabble-rousers who decided they were the only morally pure enough ones to be local leaders. That's what this was all about, politics.

If you ask me personally about the current state of trans movements? It kinda comes down to that. Most Milennials, trans women, men, & even nonbinary folk, tend to use the community as a temporary safe haven but acceptance has come far enough it tends to stay temporary. Gender is but one aspect of our identity, the hugbox and group chats about pronouns only really feel like they're giving you something for so long. The holdout? In my experience that tends to be trans men or transmasc enbies who took a half-step before coming out in the relative privilege of radical feminist spaces offering a little space within. I don't have a whole lot of animosity towards these guys...it just feels like sometimes it becomes all of our problem when that radfem space pumped you full of a distorted vision of "male privilege" and you feel jilted you didn't get that by waking up one day and saying you are now man.

Was Eiichiro Oda going for all that? Fuck no. I was a longtime leader of a local movement, he's a cis author on the outside looking in. Better way these two make sense is more an author being aware enough (Japan had a similar trajectory over the last decade) these two serve well as standins for the extremes of what a teen today sees about this transgender community. Okama type caricatures just don't work anymore. Transmasc nearing 30 who feels like they don't even know what they want? Playing word games that feel like you never stopped and thought how they'd sound to other people? Chasing an idealized version of masculinity? It's not exactly an uncommon sentiment. It's a side-effect of finally getting that long sought visibility...scrutiny goes hand in hand.

It's a Tale of Two Hannya because it's weaving in the story of one community experiencing a Tale of Two Movements. Two movements that are at times diametrically opposed (foes). That's where the upstaging or "eclipse" aspect comes in. The way beats for one influence the other even without trying. Why Yamato's the one trying to find a place and Kiku's already dealing with average pressures of being a woman. Regardless of how you feel about that personally, you have to at least acknowledge this is the general impression teens today seem to have. Hypothetically, you could get the same effect between a more clear-cut trans man and someone kinda like Kamatari.

Ultimately, Wano is about who we are vs the roles we play. We see other places where themes of just saying you fill a role doesn't mean you are. I've said Yamato's a gentle critique of the extreme "you are what you say your are" side of trans movements. I understand why people would want to see things that way, but gender is a social phenomenon. For the record, I do think it low-key radiates dude energy to not care about shit like cannonballing tits out into the main bath, no one should have to act a certain way and all that. But it's a good pair for demonstrating where we're at in general. The emotions they evoke out of readers are a good reflection of where young men are kinda at on all this trans stuff. And both are still portrayed as cool, friendly people. But I do see where it's coming from when Oda shifts that classic immaturity element from Kiku more to Yamato.