#idk how the hell they’d start being friends but at first it’s really shitty

[chettyspagetti]

More of their friendship

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess 

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n 

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay 

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - - 

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention? 

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.) 

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely. 

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed. 

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end. 

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended. 

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right? 

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting? 

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care? 

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for. 

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating. 

“you’re staring again.” 

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything. 

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard. 

“so it makes you look creepy.” 

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.” 

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?” 

“excuse me?” 

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.” 

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics. 

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.” 

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.” 

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though? 

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur. 

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again. 

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out. 

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance. 

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him. 

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n. 

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music. 

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them. 

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all. 

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance. 

- 

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile. 

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red. 

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place. 

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.) 

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time. 

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape. 

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up. 

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up. 

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging. 

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder. 

he swung the door open, hinges crying out. 

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted. 

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.” 

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?” 

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-” 

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?” 

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-” 

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?” 

“no. shut up. i need to-” 

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?” 

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?” 

“well, you’re just being shitty.” 

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them. 

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.” 

“no.” 

“please?” 

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-” 

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?” 

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips. 

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.” 

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place. 

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?” 

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back. 

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.” 

“who the hell are you talking about?” 

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.” 

“...y/n?” 

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?” 

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.” 

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.” 

“shithead, get out of my face.” 

“you still have to go out with me.” 

“why the f-” 

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.” 

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?” 

- 

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s. 

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets. 

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the  drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door. 

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone. 

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible. 

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin. 

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more. 

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room. 

-

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways. 

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them. 

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through. 

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer. 

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him. 

“you okay?” 

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?” 

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?” 

“nothing. nothing is wrong.” 

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.” 

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.” 

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin. 

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along. 

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?” 

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.” 

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.” 

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?” 

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder. 

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable. 

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy. 

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring. 

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve. 

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough. 

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage. 

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry. 

“just running errands together.” 

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage? 

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space. 

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue. 

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist. 

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back. 

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.” 

“good.” 

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual. 

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone  with a perspective like yours to know if i do.” 

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.” 

tokage let out a low growl. 

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.” 

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from? 

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.” 

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close. 

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes. 

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this. 

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?” 

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw. 

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.” 

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face. 

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.” 

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.” 

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Grunge-Metal Geralt

Hi, im fucking trash for the idea of Geralt being the front man for a Five Finger Death Punch type band and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. This music genre is my bread and butter and I think Geralt’s repressed but highly emotional ass would fit right in. Yes im using another Hozier song, no i dont wanna hear anything about it. I’m a basic bitch and ive made my peace with it

Warnings: i honestly have no idea, its a little horny, little emotional, but theres no actual character interaction?, its at a concert venue? idk yall.

_________________________

Jaskier was… out of his comfort zone.

It’s not that he didn’t like the grunge-metal music, he just hadn’t listened to much and he was not used to the energy. People were yelling and screaming and the opener hadn’t even come on yet. He didn’t feel unsafe, far from it. Several people had checked to see if he was okay, seeing as he was the only person in the entire arena wearing a sweater that wasn't ripped or faded to hell. It was just a far cry from the shows he was used to. 

He played folky-blues. This was nothing like his shows. 

When the lights went down the crowd was deafening, all moving as one to rush the front of the floor, not giving a single fuck about tickets. 

The openers were exciting, and Jaskier was surprised by some of the concepts and messages behind the music. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all and he found himself searching them up on Spotify to listen later. 

Then came The Witchers. 

Eskel and Lambert made their energetic entrance, followed by Aiden calmly walking to his drums and sitting as if he were walking into a college class. But Geralt was nowhere in sight. The one person Jaskier had actually come to see. 

He’d seen a video clip from a previous concert where they covered one of his songs, and he was praying they’d do it again. It was lovely in a haunting-almost-threatening way, and the expression in Geralt’s posture alone was enthralling. He had to see it live. 

But Geralt was still absent as the band started to build a song. First Aiden with the beat, then Eskel’s bass, then Lambert with a melody on his electric guitar. It built and built and built to a fever pitch, taking the crowd with it. People were already jumping and screeching. Jaskier had to stand on his seat to see the stage clearly. 

Geralt’s voice echoed through the venue, low and closer to a growl than singing, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

Jaskier thought he’d been prepared, but his whole body was covered in goosebumps. He briefly wondered if this was what his friends were feeling when they listened to ASMR.

Geralt remained hidden for the whole first verse, getting the crowd even more excited than Jaskier thought possible, only for the band to go completely silent for a whole measure. When the crowd's screams reached their absolute loudest, Geralt dropped from on top of one of the jumbotrons, landing on one of the horse-sized speakers before launching into the chorus. 

Oh fuck, he was even more beautiful in person. 

He was… well he was a beast of a man. Jaskier really didn’t have another word for the way his muscles bulged and how lithe and powerful he looked springing from the speaker to join his bandmates on the main stage. His thighs filled out his black, tattered jeans and there were clear faded spots where his muscles strained the fabric too often. The thin black tank he wore did nothing but pretend the man was semi-modest. It was so tight, the only thing left up to the imagination was tan lines and the color of his nipple piercings. 

Jaskier was most entranced by his long, white, wavy hair falling past his shoulders. As the show continued and he started to sweat, a lot, it got curlier and curlier at the root. Jaskier wanted to give him a mask and some curl cream, but only after a, uhm, rough night of getting to know each other. He’d heard rumors about Geralt from hitting arenas not long after they’d left. He was quite sure they’d have a great time.

As he focused on the lyrics more and more, he was more inclined to want to wrap Geralt up in a hug and worship every part of him until he felt whole again. 

Either he’d been shown the shitty side of the genre, or The Witchers were exceptions to the rule of content. Jaskier was almost moved to tears a few different times.

Finally, about an hour into Jaskier mindlessly feasting his eyes on the front man, Geralt leapt onto another speaker and sat down, breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear. 

“You still with us?”

The unholy screech from the crowd left no doubt they were just as excited, if not more so, than when they’d arrived. 

“Good! Good..” he trailed off, chuckling as he lowered the mic to take a breath, “We’re gonna slow it down for a minute,” he leaned forward and held the mic away as Eskel shouted something up at him to which he laughed and flipped him off. 

“As I was saying, we’re gonna yearn for a minute or two and do a cover. Song by Jaskier called ‘Talk’.”

The crowd lost their shit again, various pride flags popping up throughout the stands. 

Geralt chuckled and raised his combat boot, showing off the bi flag colored treads, earning another round of screams. If this is what the grunge-metal scene was like, Jaskier had been missing out his entire life. Sure his fans were sweet and supportive and loving when he’d come out. But this was electric and feral and completely addictive.

Lambert struck the opening chord to Jaskier’s song and the crowd settled to a gentle hum, setting the tone immediately, as if they all knew exactly what was coming. 

Geralt closed his eyes as he tapped his thigh with one finger, keeping time before his rumbling baritone hit Jaskier like a freight train. 

“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found…”

Jaskier could have collapsed right there. He knew he was staring like a lovesick idiot, but hell, everyone around him was too. When the chorus hit and Eskel came in with a heavy bass line he nearly fell off his chair. Geralt’s intensity raised with the addition of the backup but he didn’t move. He stayed seated, swaying slightly, with his eyes closed as he crooned out the words Jaskier had sobbed as he wrote, broken hearted and miserable. 

It was surreal. 

Sure he’d seen other covers. Sure they’d been lovely. But he wanted to listen to this and only this as he fell asleep for the rest of his life. He’d never play it again if he could only hear it one more time. 

After the last verse Lambert launched into a guitar solo while Geralt jumped off the speaker and meandered to the center of the stage to slot his mic back in it’s stand. He gripped it like a lifeline when Lambert held one last note for as long as his instrument would allow and only started singing the last chorus when it was almost silent. 

“I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we could do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you”

His expression looked hopeless and utterly desperate as he crooned out the last two lines. He let his hair fall to cover his face and Jaskier could just barely hear his panting breath over the sound system as the crowd exploded. Geralt tipped his head back and took two deep breaths before straightening up and getting on with the show but Jaskier was stuck. 

He was vaguely aware of someone taking a picture of him, but he really couldn’t care less. The fact that Geralt moved right on to a song called ‘Burn Motherfucker Burn’ didn’t matter either. 

Jaskier jumped down from his arena seat, whipping out his phone and sending the band a tweet, because apparently that’s what musicians did now?

“Record it. Please. It’s either that or sing me to sleep every night. You choose.”

He stayed for the rest of the show and walked to his car in a haze. Before he backed out of his spot he checked his phone like always and his heart nearly stopped at the two top notifications. 

One public reply: “Both? -G”

And one direct message: “If you’re still here and want to grab a drink, I’m just backstage.” 

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Heyy could I possibly request f!OC x Mark, in which the OC is Red Rush’s daughter who also inherited his powers. Set before the events of episode one maybe at a Guardian’s work party or smth. Mark and OC are hitting it off in a ‘Idk what’s going on my dad just works here’ solidarity during the party; while her doting and protective father Josef is keeping an eye on them, unsure about how he feels about his favorite sidekick growing up on him. Maybe Olga and Debbie try to be matchmakers too lol

A/N: okay well this is CUTE AF, I love this sm thank u for requesting <3 also josef and olga are married here, no one dies (yet) and everyone is happy!!!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!OC

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing

The annual Guardians of the Globe Founder's Day party was never really Zasha's scene. It mainly consisted of the Guardians and the Global Defense Agency's families, and more often than not, she was the only one in her age group. Her true purpose there was to really just pay her respects to the people — including her father, who people knew as Red Rush — who protected the planet.

This year's Founder's Day event was different, however, as Omni-Man finally accepted the party invitations he'd been ignoring for years. Although there were jokes that he had accidentally RSVP'd to the party, or that his wife had accepted the invite behind his back, everyone seemed happy, and still pleasantly surprised, when he and his family walked in.

Sitting down with a non-alcoholic beverage in her hand, she watched as everyone shook hands with the powerful Nolan Grayson and his loving family. Zasha's mom, Olga, walked over to say hello and immediately dragged the three to where Zasha and Josef were. The two male superheroes first exchanged pleasantries, followed by Olga forcing her daughter to get up so she can properly be introduced to the teenage boy standing across from her.

"Zasha, hi," Debbie said with a wide smile as she gave you a warm hug. "This is my son, Mark. I don't think you two have properly met yet."

He extended his arm, "Oh, hi, uh, I'm Mark," he replied with a sheepish smile.

"Hi, I'm Z," she said as Olga gave her a soft push to move her forward. The young girl's eyes threw daggers at her mom before politely shaking his hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Are you all hungry? They've got a lot of food," Olga told the Graysons, leading them and Josef, who squinted his eyes at Zasha and Mark, over to the buffet table.

Zasha and Mark looked at each other awkwardly and exchanged nervous smiles. He began to rock back and forth on his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he attempted to think of what to say.

"So uh, how's... superhero training?" he asked.

"Uh, good," Zasha answered, nodding her head. "We managed to take down Titan yesterday so that was pretty cool."

"Oh yeah? That's great," Mark exclaimed. "How about, um..." he scratched the back of his head, "Is the, i-is the drink... good?"

She looked down at her cup and clicked her tongue, "You know for a party that's sponsored by the government, you'd think they'd have better catering."

He chuckled, "If I knew this was going to be a boring party with adults and toddlers and no good food, I would have at least brought a snack and some comic books."

Zasha sat back down and looked up at him with a smile, "Well you better take a seat, buddy, because the next few hours are going to make you wish you were being hurled at buildings instead."

She gently patted the seat next to her and Mark accepted the offer. "Do you go to these things a lot?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Zasha replied. "You are so damn lucky your dad never wants to come to a Guardians event."

Mark laughed, "You know what, I used to be really jealous of all the families who got together during these events but right now, I'd do anything to just go home." He looked around and sighed, "I don't even know most of these people."

"Me too, and I've seen their faces at least thrice a year ever since I could remember," she agreed. "Actually, I think this is the first solid conversation I've had with someone at these things."

"Really?" he asked in shock.

"Really," she answered, taking a sip of the bland orange juice that now mostly tastes like water. "Most of the guys who are my age that have attended aren't really cute, nor are they interesting, so meh."

Mark's head snapped up at that remark and he felt the warmth rush up to his cheeks. "The other guys aren’t... cute and not... interesting?"

"Hell no," Zasha laughed. "Have you ever tried connecting with a person who has no special abilities but know you're a superhero? It feels like talking to a wall."

He crossed his brows, "What do you mean?"

She sighed and leaned forward, "They usually ask me what being a superhero is like, but when I tell them that I managed to take down a man with rock for skin, it's like I'm a freak."

"You're not a freak, Zasha," he replied. "And any guy who feels that way about a girl who's trying to save others sounds like a shitty person."

"And they're not even cute!" she added.

"And they're not even cute," he repeated after her with a laugh.

Zasha sighed again and sat back up. She looked over at him and briefly examined his face, "Well it's a good thing you are."

Josef turned around and watched as the 17-year-old boy chatted up his daughter, as well as literally take his seat at the table.

He held on to Olga's arm and leaned in, "I don't like what I'm seeing over there."

Olga turned to look then laughed at her overbearing husband. "They're just talking, Josef," she said. "It's not Zasha's fault she can enjoy a pleasant conversation and you can't."

"Mm..." Josef groaned, "I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Debbie asked from behind.

Olga walked over to her and excitingly yet subtly pointed at Zasha and Mark, who were now facing each other now laughing. "Josef's worried that Zasha won't have time to be his daughter anymore if she ever started dating boys," she explained to Debbie. "You know he scares off every single boy Zasha introduces to us? I'm worried she'll never have a boyfriend!"

"She doesn't need a boyfriend, Olga," Josef chimed in grumpily, crossing his arms as he watched the two like a hawk. "No one will be good enough for Zasha anyway. She can literally outrun all the boys she dates."

"So are you saying that my Mark isn't good enough for Zasha?" Debbie asked with half a smile, momentarily shutting Josef up before he nervously tried to form a sentence. "I'm just teasing, Josef," she followed, winking at him and almost warning him not to underestimate her son.

Olga chuckled, "It's good for them to bond. They're both teenagers and superheroes, if they ever date at least they won't have to worry about keeping secrets."

"Whoa, wait," Josef exclaimed. "They just met, who said anything about dating?"

His wife rolled her eyes at his remark. "We should, what's the term... hook them up," Olga said. "Debbie, ask Mark what's going on and I'll ask Zasha."

Debbie agreed to the plan and walked over to Mark and Zasha while Josef huffed in annoyance but stayed in his position; there was no way in hell he was going to keep his eyes off of them.

Debbie offered Mark some food from her plate but he kindly declined. "Good choice," she said. "For a party paid for by the government, you'd think they'd have better food."

Mark laughed and nodded in agreement, "That's what Z said!"

"Oh really?" Debbie replied with a playful smirk.

Mark and Zasha looked at each other as if they were sharing an inside joke before Olga called her daughter over.

"Sorry, mama is calling me," she told the Graysons as she excused herself.

"So..." Debbie trailed off, raising her eyebrow at her son whose cheeks were rosy red.

"Mom, please don't make it weird," Mark begged.

"You and Zasha seem to be hitting it off."

"I begged you not to make it weird," he groaned, covering his face.

"I was just asking!" Debbie said with a giggle. "Why are you being so offensive?"

"I'm not, mom, I'm just... ugh," he groaned again. "Please don't say anything to Josef and Olga. Don't make it weird."

"I won't, I won't," Debbie reassured him. "Are you gonna ask her out though?"

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving," she said with a hearty laugh, nodding at Zasha who was walking back to her seat.

"Sorry about that, my mom was being strange," Zasha said. "Everything okay?" she asked Mark, who now looked like he'd been slapped over and over again.

"Yeah, yeah! Great! Everything's great!"

She smiled at him but Mark leaned over and kept his head down. Another moment of awkward silence fell upon the two; Zasha looked around while tapping her toes and Mark's sight was glued to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mom and Olga delicately signalling at him to make his move. He covered the sides of his face and continuously mouthed "No," but the two were unrelenting. He took a deep breath and finally sat back up, and looked over at Zasha who was still pretending to casually look around.

"Hey, uh, Z?"

She quickly looked over at him with wide eyes, "Yes?"

Mark looked behind her head and watched as Olga and Debbie were giggling and whispering to each other, like a bunch of high school girls who just saw their best friend talking to their crush.

"Uh, I'm hungry."

The smile on Zasha's face was quickly replaced with a look of confusion. "Okay... and?"

"Oh! Um," he cleared his throat, "do you... like burgers?"

Zasha giggled and nodded, "I do like burgers."

Controlling his urge to fist pump, Mark cheekily bit his lower lip and moved a little closer, "You wanna head out and grab a bite?"

"Uh..." she turned around and watched as Olga and Debbie quickly nodded their heads, her mom giving her a sign of approval to leave the party. "Sure, I'm starving."

Josef looked on as the two of them stood up and began to make their way to the exit. Sighing in defeat and sadness, he called them over to the place where he's been stationed at since the Graysons arrived.

"Papa, we're just gonna get something to eat," she informed him nervously, knowing his scare tactics when it came to the guys she introduced him to.

Josef's eyes softened as the sight of his little girl, who he knew and finally accepted was growing up. She was making her way into the world and as much as he wanted to always protect her, he knew that she was just as smart and as capable to start doing it herself.

He took his daughter's hand and held it tight, "Okay, call me if you need a ride home."

"I will," Zasha said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Love you, papa."

"I love you too," he replied with a smile that was immediately erased when he focused his attention to Mark. "Bring her home by 11:30, and no sneaking into her room by the window," he ordered the teenage boy sternly.

Caught by surprise by the sudden formality, Mark straightened his back and nodded. "Uh yes, y-yes sir, Red Rush, sir."

"Papa!" she exclaimed. "No more scare tactics."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "that was the last one, I promise."

[nancydfan]

I think that Mia gets too bad of a rap from a lot of people.

Like yes, was she an agent of a super shady organization responsible for making a bio weapon that destroyed a great deal of lives? Yes. However we don’t know her motivation for joining them yet.

They could have lied honestly. Like The Connections could have advertised themselves to be a great, loving work environment and maybe Mia was young and naive and joined them. Or maybe she was desperate for money, and it was the only job that would hire her. Or hell, maybe she fully knew what they were and joined anyway, either on account of her morals being twisted back then or thinking that even though the company was evil maybe she could do good. Who knows, honestly.

Either way, with The Connections being a shady organization there’s like a very high chance that you don’t get to walk away from them alive. I’m sure if you quit they’d see you as a liability and take you out with no mercy. And that’s why I think Mia didn’t leave, because she knew she would be killed if she did, and maybe that’s why she took the job with Eveline, because it was more of a “you will do this or else” than an option for her (whether it was implied by her boss or if they were upfront about what bad things would happen if she didn’t take the job).

And maybe if her morals were twisted before I fully think meeting and falling in love with Ethan changed her if that was the case, because the Mia we see in RE7 and RE8 is a good person. We see that in how when the Baker’s rescue her she thanks them but tries to leave immediately and tries to warn them about staying away from Eveline (as shown in the note she left in the dlc “Daughters”). She could have tried to get them to call the hospital or her company but she didn’t, because she knew that she was under Eveline’s control and the longer she stayed there the more danger the family was. If she was a shitty person she wouldn’t have done this, she would have done everything she could to save herself.

We also see that in how she leaves a final video note for Ethan, telling him to stay away no matter what, because she didn’t want him to get dragged down in her mess. She knows how much Ethan loves her and I’m sure she knows if she sent a video saying “Ethan pls help” he’d come running for her, but she didn’t because she loves him and wants him to live even if she can’t be there with him. We see it AGAIN when she saves Ethan from Eveline’s grasp, when she tears him from the mold thing he was in and pushes him out so Eveline couldn’t hurt him. Fully knowing she’d have to face Eveline’s wrath.

And for everyone saying “why didn’t she just tell him then” I mean think about it. I think if this super shady organization found out someone they didn’t hire knew what was going on they’d kill them because again they’d be a liability and a threat. And that’s why she doesn’t tell Ethan because she doesn’t want him to be targeted and killed by them. I think if she had the opportunity she would have left The Connections but knows that it would result in her death anyway, and telling Ethan the truth would just end in his death if they found out and it was too risky in her mind.

And I think it’s this same form of protection that prevents her from telling Ethan he’s infected. She says (or at least we can assume that this was her) in Donna’s section that she didn’t tell him because she was afraid she’d lose him. I don’t think he’d divorce her if he found out he was molded (that doesn’t really make sense for his character), I think she was genuinely afraid he’d die (again) or worse begin to transform into a monster the way the rest of the infected did. And that’s why she keeps it hidden because she was scared to death he’d die or suffer a worse fate. Am I saying she was right in hiding it? No, but I think that everyone saying she’s manipulative and gaslighting are wrong because she truly loves Ethan and Rose, and I know she’d give her life gladly if it meant they could live.

I saw other people get mad because Rose is essentially being used as a bio weapon and how could Mia let this happen and I’m like?? She probably doesn’t have a say?? I mean yes Blue Umbrella is supposed to be “the good guys” now but like they’re still a huge organization, I’m sure Mia did her best to prevent this from happening and keep Rose safe but like at the end of the day what can she really do against a huge company?? If anything get mad at Chris because I’m sure he’s got some clout or something in that company that could have allowed Rose to live a normal life without Umbrella or maybe not being used as a weapon but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ a lot of people were like “Mia’s sO annoying at the beginning of the game” but fam that wasn’t even her?? That’s Miranda?? Besides even if it was Mia that blew up on Ethan in the hospital (as per Ethan’s diary) 1.) people deal with trauma differently, and I’m not saying it’s healthy but she’s scarred and doing her best and 2.) probably was afraid if they talked too much about Louisiana Ethan would realize he was infected and then BAM he’s either dead or a mutated monster. And in the cutscene of Mia saying “you matter!” Can you imagine the stress of knowing your husband is Mr Mold Man and not being able to do anything about it, out of fear of what could happen to him? Like of course she’s upset and going to blow when provoked (not that Ethan was aggressive or anything just that he was prying into a very high pressure soda that is Mia’s emotions lol) because she’s been bottling this up and has no one to talk to, and after a while anyone would explode. I think she would have told him if he hadn’t answered that call. Also marriage is not rainbows and butterflies, sometimes you get into messy fights with your partner and sometimes you or the other person say things you don’t mean but at the end of the day you love each other and try to be better. If anything Capcom was depicting a normal marriage tbh.

At the end of the day Mia is not the bad guy. She is only human who tried her best to keep her family safe against all the odds and idc what anyone says, Ethan and Mia love each other and have a healthy relationship and that’s that.

I hope I do this ask justice cause this is the kinda ask I’ve been like hoping for cause you are absolutely gosh damn right.

I’m a chill person & I’m never gonna probably get up into someone’s face about anything cause it’s fandom. I’m not here to cater your experience. That being said, when I see some of these frankly bad takes on Mia I’m like

We know Jack shit about why Mia joined the Connections. Literally nothing so people who have a whole solidified nasty opinion of Mia should probably just sit down. You don’t have to like her. But you also could like, idk, be absolutely dead wrong cause lol Capcom went, yeah we’re not gonna explain any of that.

I got the impression that in between re7 and re8 that they are hiding from the connections too but I may have misunderstood that In re8. I think it makes sense it’s the type of organization you do not leave. No matter how badly you want to and once Ethan came along, do people really think she’d risk him? Spoiler alert: no, no she wouldn’t.

Also, re7 started w Alan. He’s the one that let eveline get out of control so...I feel like people forget that.

I’ve been talking to a friend about people using the Miranda Mia against the real Mia and I don’t know how to kindly tell people that the game kinda absolutely explained that’s not Mia? I do think Mias got a temper which makes sense because Ethan is so even tempered that he can balance her out better. But Miranda Mia was a fuckin bitch. She was needling Ethan’s pain and mocking him. Do people think Ethan sat around for three years taking that? Ethan’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. He was even fighting back w Miranda Mia so manipulative and abusive takes belong in the toilet w the rest of the shit.

Mia blowing up at Ethan means nothing. My parents have proven to me marriage is not easy. You will lose it on people when emotions run high. It happens. There’s a world of difference between a moment of anger versus abuse. But you still love and forgive people for moments of anger because we all have them. And I’m sure Ethan can be just as much as a pain in the ass. I love him more than most and I’d be the first person to admit I’m sure he didn’t make it easy all the time either.

Mia held the truth from Ethan because she was scared not just for her but for him too. It’s a selfless kind of lie. We all do them so I don’t know why Mia is getting burned at the stake for it. I’m just not movable on this. That was a heavy thing to carry and she was doing her best.

As for Rose, I don’t even know what Capcom is doing. How can anyone else know? She’s special and powerful. Maybe she wanted that life? I think we can reserve judgement until re9.

Like I said above, no one has to like Mia. Maybe you don’t vibe w her or maybe you still just don’t care for her. That’s cool. But my gosh don’t lie about the kind of person she is. If you can’t acknowledge her world and heart belongs to Ethan and Rose, I’m just not sure what to tell you.

Sorry for ranting on your ask nonnie 😆 I really appreciate that you sent this in! It needed said imo

[prongsies]

Lights Up • Sirius Black

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader SUMMARY: Sirius finally gets the freedom he deserves as he reunites with an old “friend” WARNINGS: Mild language, a bit sexually suggestive but not that much, shitty writing A/N: I found it a bit hard to write for this song idk why :( Fine Line Master list

"Do you want to stay?” Your voice echoed in the silence of your living room, eyes watching Sirius, trying to memorize every detail about him before you’re all forced into hiding a week later. As friends of Lily and James Potter, whose first and only son is being haunted down by a power-crazed wizard otherwise known as Voldemort, you’re part of the few he considers a hindrance from him “unleashing his full potential” - meaning, he’s got his eyes on killing you too.

Because of this, Dumbledore had asked all of you to go into hiding, and for Lily and James to assign their Secret Keeper. Which led to the dinner you had all shared just moments ago, prepared solely by you, in the small cottage you shared with Remus, skillfully concealed with Charms you had learned and relearned for the sole purpose of this meal.

It started off smoothly, all of you sharing your memories at Hogwarts and teasing James for how love-struck he was over Lily, until you got to the primary matter at hand: deciding who their Secret Keeper was. They were a hundred percent sure they wanted it to be Sirius, and no one questioned it knowing how much he meant to James and vice versa.

But it seemed Sirius didn’t like the idea, pointing his finger towards you or anyone for that matter, just not him. Knowing that as James’ best friend, they will come for him first. But everyone else insisted, Remus backing up the Potters’ statements which resulted in a verbal argument between him and Sirius, Remus eventually leaving to “go get some air”.

The rest of the meal continued in silence though, tensed after that little spat that ensued between your two friends. When it (finally) concluded, you walked your friends out your flat, James and Lily lingering longer to exchange sentiments and expressions of love before you cut off communication indefinitely. Then, with a kiss on Harry’s forehead - and a knowing look from James who gestured towards Sirius - they left, disappearing into the night.

“Sirius,” You tried once again, eyes studying the boy who wouldn’t so much as spare you a glance, “Do you want to stay?”

“I could,” He seemed to consider it for a moment, before his face morphed into a sour expression, “but I wouldn’t”

“What do you mean?” You approached him, taking careful steps towards him trying to avoid any kind of negative reaction, “Is it Remus? You know he won’t mind. He- he just needs some time to think, you know? But he’ll understand when you talk it out-”

“It’s not that, (y/n)!” Sirius exclaimed in obvious frustration, running his fingers through his hair, “It’s just.. I don’t think we should keep doing this anymore”

“What, being friends?” You asked humorlessly, bitterness seeping down your throat.

“Friends don’t fuck around while ignoring their feelings for each other, (y/n)! you know that!” He practically growled at you, eyes softening at your scared expression, yet the rest of his face remained cold, “and I can’t face Remus, especially after practically shoving his illness to his face”

“You just need to talk it out” You reasoned with him, trying to hide the hurt you felt when he backed away from you, “We’re all each other has, Sirius, especially now with James, Lily, and Harry in danger! We can’t- we can’t turn against each other now”

“I’m sorry, (y/n)” 

With that, he rushed out the door, leaving you behind with words paragraphs left unsaid. 

A month later, you and Remus find out about James and Lily’s deaths, then a day after that, the murder of Peter and 12 other muggles at the hands of the person you used to call you friend.

A shiver ran down Sirius’ spine at the sudden cold breeze that brushed his shoulders. Shutting his book and placing it atop the coffee table, he stood to get the fireplace ready, igniting his with his wand, before settling back on the armchair he had occupied.

Sighing at the warmth, he allowed his eyes to trail over the interior of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, where he had been residing in hiding after his escape from Azkaban five years ago. The war had finished, concluding in the so-called Battle of Hogwarts where he fought alongside his best friend, Remus, and godson, Harry. It ended victoriously, Voldemort finally descending into the pits of hell where he belongs.

With his contribution to the war and the countless proof pointing towards his innocence, the Ministry decided to open his case after almost two decades, allowing him the opportunity to walk the earth as a free man once and for all. The thought brought a smile onto Sirius’ lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by his godson who was descending the stairs from his room in the second floor.

“You nervous?” Harry asked as he neared, propping himself onto the armchair across Sirius with an envelope in hand.

“Very” Sirius nodded with a grin, “Although, I’m more excited than nervous”

“That’s alright” Harry shrugged as he pulled out the documents, spreading the papers onto the coffee table so he could sort through them, “Besides, the woman who had taken over your case is supposedly the best one out there. In fact, she was the one who insisted to handle it, apparently she’s been sending appeals to the Wizengamot the moment you’ve been locked up”

“I didn’t know it’d be a woman, do I know her?” 

"Too well, I believe” Harry replied simply, looking up at Sirius with a smirk playing in the corner of his lips as he busied himself. As if on cue a knock sounded from the front door, followed by Remus’ footsteps as he rushed from the kitchen to the entrance hall.

“Remus!” A woman’s voice echoed through the quiet home, followed by the sound of shuffling and the gentle shut of the door. “Is Teddy with you?”

“‘fraid not. He’s with his mum and grandma for a few days, with the full moon last night”

Sirius’ eyes furrowed as he eavesdropped on the conversation. Who could this woman be for Remus to mention his lycanthropy so nonchalantly? 

His question was answered as she stepped into the room, body going rigid at the sight of Sirius on the sofa. The latter was unaware he had rose to his feet as he saw her as well, his breath caught in his throat as he took the sight of her in. (y/n), the same girl he had loved for years, whose thoughts plagued his mind with regret the day he left her standing in her own living room after she reached out to him. 

(y/n), whose skin he used to caress almost every night as they lay in bed after  hours of intimacy and passion, whose lips he swears he could still taste up until this day. (y/n), the name he’d moan in her ear or against her neck, as pleasure overtook his body, he knows he could never be silent around her. (y/n) whose years of stress had aged her features significantly yet, much to Sirius’ jealously, remained youthful and beautiful after all this years.

“(y/n)” He found himself breathing out, his cheeks heating up at the small crack in his voice - a failed attempt of keeping his emotions at bay.

“Sirius” She seemed breath-taken as well. But she was quick to compose himself, hiding the admiration from her features and replacing it with something Sirius assumed to be her professional face. She cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly, before reaching a hand out towards him, “It’s great to see you again. I hope you don’t mind me coming at such a short notice, I just really need to prep you for your trial tomorrow”

“Drop the formalities, (y/n)! We all know your heart still beats for Sirius!” Remus commented from behind her, watching the scene in amusement. He reached over to share a high-five with Harry, who immediately settled after a playful glare sent towards him by Sirius

“Shut it, Moony” (y/n) rolled her eyes.

Hesitantly, Sirius took her hand in his, biting back his smile as his cheeks managed to heat up even more. It all ended far too quickly though, since just after she pulled her hand away, she ushered everyone into the dining room, ordering Remus to shut the door behind him as she charmed the small area to mimic a courtroom - which looked far too realistic that the sight of it brought chills to Harry as he recalled the way he felt in his own trial years ago.

(y/n) motioned towards a chair in the middle of the now-circular room, waiting for Sirius to take his seat. “Now, I managed to collect some of the many questions to be directed your way. Don’t worry though, we’ve also collected some memories to put into the pensieve to back up your statement”

“The pensieve?” Harry asked. He didn’t know they were allowed to do that.

“It’s a special privilege” (y/n) answered his unvoiced question, not tearing her eyes away from the mountains of paperwork she was pulling out from her bag, scanning each one as she placed them gently onto the table, “Help me with this, Moony, will you?”

Remus was quick to her side, helping her look through the documents. It was funny seeing them now, as Sirius had always thought they’d end up together eventually, which had been one of the reasons why Sirius refused to stay when she asked him to - he thought they had feelings for each other, (y/n) just taking it out on Sirius, but he was very wrong.

“Here we go!” She exclaimed triumphantly, grabbing a stack of paper from the pile, circling the table to stand in front of him, “Are you ready, Sirius?”

“Let’s have at it”

___

“This is undeniably one of the worst days of my life” Sirius grunted as he collapsed onto the dining room chair in exhaustion, dropping his forehead rather harshly onto the table in front of him. 

The room had been reverted to its original state when they had concluded the prepping session, something Sirius didn’t enjoy even just one bit.

“Remus, I was overcame by my emotions back then” Sirius deadpanned, earning a grin from Remus. It’s nice they could talk about the past so lightly now, no matter how dark it had been, “My vision literally went dark when I went after Peter. As soon as I calmed, I was already sitting in my cell in Azkaban”

“It wasn’t that bad” Remus tried to make light of the situation, yet upon recalling how it actually went, a cringe made its way onto his face. He could still hear Sirius' loud voice echoing the room just hours ago, trying to defend himself from the accusations thrown by (y/n).

He had thrown harsh words towards her, settling down whenever she would correct his wordings or point out the slight raise in his tone which the council wouldn't like. Sirius tried to keep up with all her suggestions, but doing so would mean he would need to keep his frustrations to himself - which was rather difficult since he had done just that when he was locked up.

He settled mugs of coffee in front of Sirius and (y/n). They had only taken a short few minutes for dinner before continuing their session again, and Sirius didn’t think it’d be that difficult to recall what happened in an event that occurred long ago. By the time they finished, it was near midnight.

“We can request to submit a memory to the council though” (y/n)’s voice was rough as she spoke, an effect of her consistent interrogation towards Sirius, teaching him how to respond in a way that would work in his favor. “Besides, we need you as calm as we can. Merlin knows you can be dramatic sometimes”

“Dramatic!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offense, “Love, you of all people should now how false your accusation is”

“Pads, you literally first appeared to me as a large black dog in the middle of the night” Harry reminded from beside (y/n). Sirius could see the familiarity in (y/n)’s eyes upon hearing Harry call Sirius by his Marauder name, knowing deep down she heard James’ voice as well. 

“Imagine being a thirteen year old finding out your godfather was “on the way to kill you” while seeing a literal death omen all the time. I was literally so afraid I thought I might shit my pants” Harry continued, earning a laugh from Remus.

“And what is it you told me when I transformed that night?” Remus quipped humorously, “You know the man you truly are, Remus!”

“Sod off, Lupin! Bloody hell” but Sirius couldn’t help the smile forming on his face as his eyes found (y/n), watching the way her eyes crinkled at the sides in laughter. Remus noticed this, sharing a look with Harry before nodding him out the room, disappearing up the stairs in hushed whispers.

When (y/n) calmed, she was left alone with Sirius, nursing her mug of coffee in her palms, the way she used to do when her hands started feeling cold. Sirius didn’t want the awkward silence to take over, so he initiated a conversation, “So... how’ve you been over the years?”

(y/n) gave him a look, and Sirius could just hear her teenage self utter a sarcastic ‘really?’, but she answered anyway, “It was rather peachy. I mean, losing James, Lily, and you in two days? It was really hard”

“I’m surprised you and Remus didn’t end up together. I was assuming that after living together for all those years, you’d develop something” Sirius jumped right into it, regretting the years he had spent not even trying to ask.

“Really?” And there it was, the face. She sighed, standing up from her seat to claim the chair beside Sirius, smiling up at him, “We were only friends then, Siri. We both couldn’t afford a place of our own so we figured we could live together. I mean, if you weren’t staying with Lily and James then, I would’ve offered you to live with me”

“Did you see someone else while I was gone?” 

“You’re actually being so blunt right now” (y/n) laughed. “If you had been this straight-forward then we would’ve been together by now. But yes, I had been in many relationships. Remus and I even tried going out once - too awkward so we reverted back to being friends. There was also this one guy who actually proposed to me 6 months into the relationship, but I declined”

“Why? You could’ve had a family by now”

“Let’s just say I was waiting for the Ministry to finally accept my petition to reopen your case. It’s the main reason why I joined the Wizengamot council really, so I can set you free” She said softly, “I’ve always known you wouldn’t betray your friends like that, especially James”

“Yeah” Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off (y/n)’s lips as she spoke, swallowing audibly at the thought of how easy it is to connect their lips in the small distance between them. “Can I kiss you?”

“I could say yes, but I wouldn’t” She replied cheekily, reminisce of one of the few words Sirius had told her before he left.

“I’m sorry, by the way... I was young then - scared of the war, of being given that much responsibility which I ended up chickening out of. I- I didn’t know who I was then”

“Do you know who you are now?”

“No, but I’m certain I am hopelessly in love with you - have been all these years” His face neared hers, lips mere centimetres away, “And I know I’ll go mad if I don’t get to feel your lips again”

“I can’t” She pulled back, surprising Sirius. She was staring at his lips though, while biting her own, an indication of how much she wanted to do it, “I want to but I can’t. As of now, you’re still a client”

“Oh”

“But if you do a good job tomorrow, maybe I can reward you with one? and maybe something more?”

The grin on both their faces confirmed an agreement, and although Sirius’ nerves had settled once again in his stomach, at least he had something to look forward to.

___

“Are you ready, darling?” (y/n) asked as she stood beside Sirius near the front door of 12 Grimmauld place, her hand on the knob ready to turn it at any second. Harry and Remus had gone ahead of them, bringing Sirius’ belongings to (y/n)’s home somewhere in London, and mainly to give the two some privacy.

“Ready as ever, love” Sirius grinned. 

With a grin, she swung open the front door, allowing the sunlight to enter the house while the cold afternoon breeze nipped at their skin. 

Finally, after twelve years in Azkaban, and five years hiding in the Hellhole House of Black, he was finally able to take his first steps outside as a free man. Pulling (y/n) towards him in a tight embrace as they stood on the porch, he couldn’t help but let a few tears escaped. 

He had thought this moment would remain a dream, something so impossible to happen that he hated himself for even considering it. But here he was, not needing to transform into a dog just so he could roam the streets. 

He’s a free man now.

With a grin he turned back towards his old home, glaring at it as he raised both his hands, flashing the front door with his middle fingers, before shouting, “Fuck you, Number 12 Grimmauld Place! Fuck you, Azkaban! I’M NOT EVER GOING BACK!”

Fine Line Tag List:

@cedricisnotonfire​ @rexorangecouny​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @annasofiaearlobe​

[timextoxhajima]

Member: PWARK SEONGHWAbs

Category: playlist feels one shot

Genre: fluff and smut (idk how this is gonna turn out lol i just couldn’t get the visual of boss/ceo? seonghwa out my head and you’re his secretary and i just--)

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: if you haven’t noticed by now, most of my one shots/work don’t really have cliche plots? there are certain tropes/cliches that i don’t really like or i’m just not tuned into being comfortable writing them like eg. boss and employee is pretty nasty, that’s why the chaebol juyeon series turned out like that (i’m not gonna spoil it but if you know, you know that y/n wasn’t just an employee.) so in here, i guess it’s not going to be an exception? i don’t know when the day will come that i will write one that is EXTREMELY cliche and be able to be satisfied/happy with it. 

this is the first smut i’m writing for seonghwa; i’ve only been writing it for san and a tiny bit for mingi and the rest’s literally for juyeon ;_; so i hope i don’t butcher it. 

see you on the other side :D

“니 맘 전부 알고 있어”

“I know your heart”

“oh god--” you shove the food on your spoon into your mouth, nearly throwing it on the table just as the music starts ringing in the room, and he was already resting his chopsticks on the bowl. “please don’t--”

“seonghw-- ugh.”

too late.

“forget it, do whatever you want at your own dinner table. i can’t believe you invited me over just so i have to watch you have your own concert,” the food calls you again, and seonghwa acts like he’s in a drama or a music video. 

“have you finished compiling the contracts from the previous year and making sure everything tallied?” he raises a candid brow at you, his hands reaching out to you as the lyrics ran its course. a frown draws into your forehead, and you swat his hand away, reaching for a piece of fried egg instead of watching him act his heart out. 

“i’m still working on it, but i’ll have it in by the end of tomorrow,” the egg finds its way between your teeth and you push some rice in along with it, fingers finding your phone when it lit up.

“wooyoung’s asking if we’re going to hang out anytime soon.”

you look up through your damp hair and glare at seonghwa, hands still flailing around and his torso following along with the movements. 

it really was a wonder you’ve been friends with him since you were teenagers, and somewhere, somehow, some deity really thought making you the secretary of one of your best friends was a good idea.

initially, you were relieved that your boss was someone you knew as well as you did the back of your hand, but within the first six months of being seonghwa’s secretary, you literally couldn’t help yourself from hurling a file at him once in awhile. 

it wasn’t difficult to catch you screaming at him in the office because he passed out from overworking himself, telling him to go home. not because he was taking a nap, but because you found him sprawled across his desk after working through the night.

that was the day everybody in office found out you were friends from the same circle. 

so whenever anybody had the slightest issue or complaint about their boss, they’d come to you in hopes that you would smack -- or yell -- some sense into him. 

seonghwa had his shitty days and it didn’t stop him from being a terrible boss; you could empathise. but otherwise, he’d be strutting around office and annoying the hell out of both you and your colleagues by giving them sweets, to the extent that someone would wonder just how he was the one everybody needed to address as ‘boss’.

“wooyoung? but hongjoong’s overseas and mingi practically vanished off the face of earth. if he wants to have a meal together, he needs to hunt mingi down first,” the fishcake in the soup suddenly contained enough power to make seonghwa stop rolling his chest and send it into his mouth. 

“i’ll tell him no then,” the message sends and you put the phone back down onto the table. “anyway, the security told me when i left the office that the camera in your office is down and they’ll have someone sent over to fix it over the weekend, so they just told me to relay the message to you.”

“why wouldn’t they just email me?”

your tongue digs into the gap between your gum and your upper lip sa you reach for the glass of coke. “i’m pretty sure they’ve given up emailing you, especially since you don’t use that email address often.”

“hey, i have one for office operations and one for business, is that so wrong?” his defensive tone causes his voice to crack and go off tune, striking a funny bone in you despite already hearing it a billion times over. 

“i didn’t say there’s anything wrong, it’s just annoying when you give someone your email but you don’t even check your inbox,” you finish your last spoonful of rice and chicken, downing the soup to wash down the food. “but anyway, point is, don’t do anything dumb in your office.”

he scoffs, finally returning dedicated focus to his food. the food that he bothered to prepare for you before even telling you he was cooking dinner. it made you obligated to show up, else you’d get an earful from him for being ungrateful. 

“name me one dumb thing i could do in my office,” his cat eyes widen and the whites around his pupils glare at you under the lighting. 

“how would i know?” sucking the grains of rice from the hidden spots in your mouth, letting the water droplets on the side of the coke glass run over your nails and drip off the base. “like have a heart attack and pass out tomorrow, if you choose to stay over time?”

seonghwa stretches his legs under the table, and his sock-covered feet jab you in your ankles. a sharp ‘tsk’ slides out from gritted teeth, and he laughs at your reaction. 

“it’s not peak period for companies to be contacting me now, so that probably won’t happen.”

“well, don’t leave your office door unlocked or something, someone could waltz right in and find your shit and that’ll just might be the end of you.”

“honestly, i thought it  would’ve been funnier if you encouraged me to do more dumb things in the office, since there wouldn’t be any footage of it.”

wincing in disgust, your hands wipe the water off the surface of the coke glass and you flick it at him. a loud snicker blocks out the music for a moment when he ducks and uses his arm as a shield. 

“god forsake i recorded that and told the office you said that,” the coke glass empties itself down your throat, and you help yourself out of the seat to help him clear the dishes. 

“it’s a good thing you’re worth trusting then,” you hear him say loud enough for you to hear while you rest the plates in the sink. 

a chair drags across the floor and the soft clinking of the porcelain plates from the dining table mixes with the water gushing out of the tap. 

if you had to describe your friendship with seonghwa, it’d be an open book. 

one of the best things about being friends with him was that he was always mature enough to look past little arguments or conflicts that shouldn’t have an impact on your friendship.

sometimes he was whiny and pouty and it nauseated you, but he was always one to have your back whenever you needed it. his shoulder was always there for you to cry on, not the mention the hugs he gave. 

so why ‘open book’? 

“i’m only worth trusting because you kept my secret and prevented anybody else from blowing shit out of proportion.”

a gentle chuckle rings by your ear, and seonghwa refuses to fill the sink with more dishes while you were still standing there. there wasn’t a time when he’s hosted a dinner and let his guests do the dishes for him. 

the water runs the dishwasher soap off your skin and you step away for him to take over. 

“it didn’t blow out of proportion only because i didn’t tell anybody else,” he turns and flashes his smile at you, and it reminds you of the first time you fell for it. 

you guessed it. 

park seonghwa was the love of your life at some point of time, and he knew. 

in fact, nobody else knew besides the two of you. 

you had made it so painfully obvious that if anybody was observant enough, they’d be able to pick it up. luckily for you, hongjoong was too busy making sure mingi wasn’t sticking a pen down his throat just to prove a point, and seonghwa was the only one who noticed you staring at him. 

so ‘open book’ in some sense... for the both of you. not so much anybody else outside your exclusive friendship.

the fear in your chest and entire body was so overstimulating in that moment he caught you staring at him, with eyes you assumed he would’ve found creepy, that you could’ve cried in that instant. 

it wasn’t likely that he’d stop being friends with you just because you had feelings for him, but it was likely that he’d start distancing himself from you just so he wouldn’t hurt you. 

~~~~~~~~~  FLASHBACK ~~~~~~~~~~~

“don’t fuckin’ let him swallow the pen!” he yells at hongjoong, who was struggling to use his relatively shorter limbs to hold mingi’s long limbs down. your stressed vision was darting back and forth between the little wrestling match and confusion and fear start to swallow you like waves on a stormy day when seonghwa gets out of his seat and walks towards you. 

“come on,” he shows you a hand. everybody was seated in his living room, pizza boxes empty and coke bottles neatly thrown into a trashbag in the corner with the flashes of light from the television brightening the room every few seconds. “let’s go out and grab some fresh air while these two idiots settle themselves.”

seonghwa literally pulls you to your feet, and he must’ve guessed how much shit you thought you were in, for you to require someone else to tear you away from the ground. 

the sliding doors rustle open, and the cool autumn air outside greets you as if to mock you. the street lamps outside his house prevent you from seeing any stars, but you remember why you were out here in the first place.

your fingers find each other, your nails automatically starting to pick and peel at the skin on the other hand as seonghwa pulls the doors shut, muffling the whining and the screeching mingi was polluting his surroundings with. 

your forearms were rested on the surface of the wooden barriers, and your eyes looked dead straight in attempt to avoid his. the wooden barrier creaks, and you catch a glimpse of his hands gripping the rough surface, his torso leaning over it at an angle so he could meet your eyes without needing to shift you.

the thumping and racing in your chest was so rapid and aggressive, you wish you were dead instead. your lips parted, already prepared to say sorry and get the hell out of his life before he breaks your heart first.

“seonghwa, i--”

“no, it’s okay,” his voice was gentle in the almost-quiet atmosphere. “i was already suspecting it, and you only confirmed it.”

the blood rushes from your feet into your face, and your knuckles whiten from the amount of effort you channeled into holding the wooden barriers to support yourself. the last thing you wanted to do was to pass out infront of him. 

“i know you don’t feel the same, but i don’t want this to ruin our friendship,” mustering enough courage, you turn to him and lock pleading eyes with his. 

“well, neither do i. i wish i could ignore it, and if you were just any other girl, i wouldn’t have bothered having this conversation with you,” he turns and leans his lower back against the wooden boards. “but it’s you and you’re one of the few things i can’t risk losing.” 

silence. 

“this friendship is more important than whether or not you reciprocate. so even if you did, i’d be terrified to even start one with you... in fear that we’d break up and everything prior wouldn’t mean anything,” the words roll of your tongue with such fluidity, it surprised you even more than it did for seonghwa. 

“if that’s the case, then i’m relieved,” he pushes himself off the wooden planks and digs his fingers into the top of your head, ruffling your hair. “i don’t want our friendship to finish so pathetically either, so i take it that you want this conversation to be just between us?”

the nerves in your body tell you to nod, and you carry it out before the thoughts even get processed.

a weak smile curls his lips upwards, and he removes his hand from your head. “okay. you have my word.”

~~~~~~~~ NOW ~~~~~~~~~

so just like that. 

you and seonghwa made a silent deal never to tell anybody, and you made an effort to shove your feelings for him so far down your heart, you think you might’ve shat it out into a random toilet bowl in the last six years or so. 

“anyway,” you recall how you even got to this part of the conversation. “so don’t do anything remotely dumb in the office. if anybody encourages you to do it, i’ll murder them myself.”

his teeth glimmer in the light and the water starts running its way through the bubbles and foam on his hand and the plates in the sink. 

you stay long enough to remind seonghwa not to do anything stupid in his office the next day and to lock the door whenever he wasn’t in, at least five times over. seonghwa forces you to eat some strange concoction of ginseng and peach juice before you had to run out the door and straight home. 

the next day at work passed strangely quicker, and much quieter than you thought. 

seonghwa didn’t spend much time outside you office, and your colleagues handling external liaisons were busy too. it wasn’t difficult to figure out that despite seonghwa saying that companies wouldn’t be approaching him for new partnerships, one big one must’ve come by to keep him in his little box in the corner of the floor. 

but more often than not, being seonghwa’s secretary made you feel obligated to stay until he actually chased you home. and even if he did, you’d try to peel him away from his workspace too, well aware that he’d probably spend the night in his office if you didn’t.

today wasn’t an exception. 

the last external liaison officer left the office and waved goodbye to you, leaving you at your desk in the cubicle nearest to seonghwa’s office. 

you gather the contract summaries and place them into a clear file, throwing your phone into your suitcase and pulling your blazer over your shoulders. after you hand him the contract administration file, you’re going to make sure he went home today, even if it meant shoving him off his seat. 

you stretch out your arms to straighten the sleeves of the blazer, one hand clutching onto your suitcase and the other holding the file. turning off the light at your desk left seonghwa’s office light as the last remaining source of illumination of the area. 

“seonghwa,” you call out, trapping the file between your elbow and your rib as you knocked on the door.

“door’s open,” his voice sounded so tired and strained, you wish you could scold him for being so hardworking, but that was just the way he is.

“i thought i told you to lock the door,” seonghwa’s eyes were plastered to the computer screen, sheets of paper strewn about on the desk. usually you’d be surprised, given how neat and organised seonghwa had to be. but since this must’ve been one hell of a contract, you could understand that he lost some of his bearings. 

“i’m in the office, there’s no reason for me to lock it,” his eyes tear away from the screen and look down at the papers. 

the office smelled like febreeze, which you already were used to. seonghwa sighs a loud sigh and he gets out of his seat, stretching his limbs while you walk around to his desk, placing the file down and picking up some of the sheets he was just looking at. 

you drop your suitcase to your feet and your eyes naturally begin to skim through the brand new contract he spent the entire day obsessing over. seonghwa shifts and you hear his shoes pace up and down the space behind you, probably trying to get the blood circulation going from the hours of sitting down. 

the lamp sitting on his desk illuminates the papers in your hands into a bright white, and the printed black words become so much shinier under it. 

“oh? samsung?” your eyes widen slightly at the name printed on the sheet. “no wonder you’ve been in here the whole day.”

he hums, and you start to feel his torso looming over you from behind. 

“what else do you have to do though?” you flip through the sheets, and he pushes your hair aside, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin under your ear. 

“not funny, seonghwa,” the frown deepens into your forehead when you notice all the sheets had already been filled up. “are you clearing emails? if you’ve filled up the contract sheets then there’s no reason for you to be her--”

the pressure on your lower back combined with the soft breathing on your neck cuts off the oxygen from your nose to your lungs. the air hitting your skin causes goosebumps to erupt all over your skin, and you start to cringe from the ticklish sensation. you flinch and your shoulder shrugs up to your ear as you turn around, taken aback to realise he was standing right behind you, barely giving you any space to turn. 

“uh...” the air was eerily still, and there was a strange look in his eyes that you don’t find familiar. your rear rests against the edge of the desk, and you pass the sheets to your left hand, right hand reaching up to wave it infront of seonghwa’s face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m more than fine,” gently wrapping his fingers around your palm, you raise a brow in confusion. 

you sigh and return the sheets back to the middle of the desk, hand still in his. “you look like you’re going to pass out, is there anything wrong?” 

naturally, your other hand finds his, and you pat the back of his hands like you were petting a dog.

“i need to ask something, and you gotta promise to answer me honestly,” there was a hint of fear and anxiety in his voice, and you didn’t like it. 

nonetheless, he was one of your best friends and he wouldn’t ever hurt you, no matter what he said.

he was probably going to ask something you would find offensive.

“alright,” you release his hands and cross your arms over your chest. “hit me.”

seonghwa shoves both his hands into his pocket and straightens his back, the change in posture making him look taller than what you were used to seeing. 

“do you still feel the same?”

the muscles in your neck snap your head backwards, and both eye brows lift themselves further away from your eyes. a small snort escapes your nose, and you start to nibble on your thumb. 

“‘still feel the same’? about what? about what happened seven years ago in your living room?” 

the smile doesn’t disappear from your lips, and it only gets wider when seonghwa nods. 

“park seonghwa,” you chortle, lifting your hand up to his forehead and pressing so hard into his skull that his head tilts backwards. “are you sure you’re okay? because i’m pretty sure that’s your juiced-out brain talking.”

one foot was already turned to walk out from between him and the desk, but he slams his left hand onto the surface of the expensive wood, and the loud slap of skin against wood startles you. 

your head whips to the left to look at him, and it dawns on you that he wasn’t messing with you. not a single feature on his face twitched, and you could see his soul crawling out of his eyes and threatening to squeeze into yours. 

“an honest answer.”

the most vital organ in your body starts to race, and the sensation yanks you back seven years to when seonghwa figured it out for himself. 

you haven’t felt the same kind of panic and worry since then. 

“i’d like to believe i’ve gotten over you, why?” the neurons in your brain struggled a little to piece that sentence together. 

“so it’s not a definite ‘no’?”

straightening yourself, you pat down your blazer and jab a finger into his shoulder. “did you not hear a word i just said?” 

“y/n,” this time he grabs your wrist, and you could feel the groves and bones of his fingers. “it was a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.”

a pause, and you start hearing your heart in your ears. 

“do you still feel the same?”

everything inside you screams ‘no’, but you were well aware that if you had to even convince yourself that that was the case, then it was obvious the answer is ‘yes’. you start screeching at yourself in your own head, knowing that if you kept quiet any longer, seonghwa’s sharp eyes and extreme situational awareness was going to help him crack the code. 

“i--”

“so it’s a ‘yes’.”

fuck me.

“seonghwa, let me explain, okay? it’s not that i didn’t try, i’m just letting those... stupid feelings wear away on its own,” you writhe yourself out his hold and he releases you, but you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he said or did next. 

“there’s nothing to explain, just let your heart tell you what’s good for you.”

there wasn’t a single cell inside you that could tell you why you were so scared, so when seonghwa cups your cheeks with his hands and presses his lips against yours, the realisation pulls your eyes wide open. 

red and white sirens go off violently in your head like declarations of war, and your palms press flat against his chest to push him back.

“what are you-- seonghwa, if you think this is funny, then you need to know that it’s not. at all.”

“no, please, i didn’t mean to make you think i’m messing with you,” his eyes soften, and you were relieved to realise that the seonghwa standing in front of you right now was the one you recognised.

“really? because if we weren’t friends for like ten years, i’d think you’re just another playboy.”

seonghwa offers a weak chuckle, and he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. you take a few deep breaths to steady your heart, the mind-boggling situation not exactly resting in a comfortable spot in your head. 

“is that how you really see me? a playboy?” he raises a brow with mischief, and the slowly diminishing gap between the two of you alarms your senses all over again. 

“i’m well aware of how the girls in school used to look at you,” his breath starts to hit your upper lip again, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand. 

“okay, but that was seven years ago,” you watch with the slightest pinch of horror when his hands run up your arms and rest on your shoulders. “but now we’re both adults and i’m sure you’re mature enough to understand your own feelings, regardless of what i was treated as in school.”

“could you hurry up and get to the point?” you frown when he leans in again, your head slowly inching backwards. “all this beating around the bush is going to piss me off and i’m going to leave you here alone and go home.”

the sound of his laughter landed in your ears like music, and you let it run through you that it was one of the many things that led you to fall for him. 

“okay, well...” he licks his lips ever so subtly, and he tilts his head so you didn’t need to. “if you still have feelings for me then i want you to know that i have feelings for you too.”

the confession rests on your skin like a layer of silk, and your eyes somehow become comfortable closing this time round. 

he tasted exactly the way you’d expect him to: strawberries.

your hands were still awkwardly gripping the edges of the table, so when he finds them and pulls them around his own neck, that was when you lost all sense of reality. 

you couldn’t decide between kissing him because you still had feelings for him or because you’ve spent so much time being comfortable around him, some part of you felt so at home.

the line was so thin that you physically felt it disappear. 

the thought of it was kind of messed up, but it was seonghwa, the one who stayed your friend despite knowing you had feelings for him, the one who stayed and protected you by not telling anybody else. 

not wooyoung, not hongjoong, not mingi. 

the feeling of your entire existence, and the last seven years, melt into that kiss was so heartfelt, and it may have been your feelings for seonghwa talking, but his lips against yours felt like heaven-born puzzle pieces meant for each other. 

seonghwa picks you up and places you on the desk, the kisses soft and gentle, and his fingers on your cheek made you feel like heaven all on its own.

if hongjoong were here, you just know he was going to yell at the two of you for choosing intimacy over your friendship, but for two people who had mutual feelings for each other, there wasn’t much anybody could do about it. 

seonghwa breaks the kiss and he gives you a gorgeous smile, the sight shoving a hundred butterflies into your stomach while the strawberry taste lingers on your lips. 

“tell me if you’re uncomfortable--”

“we’re in the office--”

“camera’s not working.”

a small scoff runs off your tongue, and he dips his nose into your neck. kisses the weight of feathers land on your skin, and your heart starts running through your chest like it was in a competition. his hands push your legs open, the sudden jerk shooting little bolts of shock up your spine.

whines start to drip over your lips upon the kisses on your neck, and seonghwa drags his palms up your thighs, the pressure slightly but never overwhelming.

he wraps his arms around your waist when he returns his attention to your lips, pulling you so close to him that your chest was pressed against his, and your nose starts to pick up on his scent. 

your weight begins to shift backwards as his hands messily push all the things on his table to the side, laying you on your back but never once breaking the kiss. 

“this is so not okay,” you huff embarrassedly, arm finding your forehead when he pulls away. you heard him gulp, and it reminds you that he must be as anxious as you were, if not even more.

“are you really okay with letting me do this?” he presses a kiss into your cheek, fingers caressing your knees that he held on either sides of his hips. “you can say no, and we’ll be fine. we let it go once, we can let it go again.”

the look in his eyes were so dangerously comforting, you felt your mind glitch a little trying to process them. seonghwa was so genuine and sincere about your feelings that it made you nauseous. the pricetag the both of you were putting on tonight was your friendship. 

one wrong move and it could all go down the drain.

“i’m okay as long as i know that you’ll still be here, even if anything goes wrong.”

seonghwa looks at you with slightly sorrowful eyes, before he kisses you again, and the amount of comfort and promise that you absorbed from it was enough to make you tear up. 

“i’ll never leave you, even if we aren’t a couple and if we’re just friends... even if we stop talking fifty years down the road, i’ll still want you to be by my side in the afterlife.”

your nose sours at his little speech, and your heart shatters without warning. pulling him back to your lips, you kiss him like life was going to tear him away from you. 

seonghwa drinks your love and need for affection with ease, fingers trailing down your stomach and under your skirt to play with the rims of your underwear. 

fingers slide under the material and he smiles into the kiss when he realises your body needed him more than you’d like to admit. you would’ve slapped him across the face if he pulled away just to tease you, but he doesn’t.

he swallows a loud groan from you when he slips a finger in, and your grip around his shoulders tighten upon the blissful sensation. 

your fingers start to fumble with the dress shirt he was wearing under his blazer, and bit by bit, the whiteness of his skin start to remind you of milk. 

seonghwa removes his finger and sucks it like a lollipop, his eyes flying up to the dress shirt around your chest and he does the same for you. 

you couldn’t contain the mewls that slipped through your teeth when he undoes enough buttons to expose your cleavage, and the kisses on the curves of your breast felt like you were already one foot into the afterlife. 

the last button on his dress shirt comes undone, and you marvel at his torso. for a split second, you felt so proud you fell for him not because of his face or body, but because of his personality. yet, now with the knowledge that he looked like that under the layers of clothes, it was too difficult a task to hide the lust that overcame you almost instantaneously.

“hold your horses, kitten,” he pulls away from your chest, at the same time removing your underwear from under your skirt. your eyes involuntarily lock with his, and again, you couldn’t recognise them.

“who are you and what have you done to park seonghwa?” you mock him in attempt to calm your own bundle of nerves. a smirk pulls his lips up in the corner, and he yanks you to the edge of the table where his groin was dangerously near your exposed core. 

“i’m yours and he’ll come back once i’m done with you.”

you throw your head back into the table when he kneels down, and his tongue finds your sensitive nub. your fingers run through your own hair when he starts flicking against you, occasionally lapping your dripping neediness up. he doesn’t push into you, which was both frustrating and pleasuring at the same time. 

you start to lose your grip on reality, and just as you were about to protest against him being such a tease, he removes his face from your south and begins undoing his belt. 

your lids were droopy with lust, and watching him undo the button and zipper of his pants made it so much more worth it. 

“i wish i knew this day was coming,” you whisper to him as he leans over you again, one arm holding his torso above you and the other, you assume, pulling his underwear low enough to release himself from the material. 

“so you can tell the girls that you’re having sex with me in the office?”

the line sounded so lewd, blood began rushing both down to your south and up to your cheeks.

“what, you’re shy now?” the brow he raises was so smug, you would’ve bitten down on his bottom lip if you didn’t suddenly gasp when he plunged into you without warning. 

your chin tilts so sharply towards the ceiling, he had to pull it back down for him to shove his tongue into your mouth, and a pinch of pain seeps through your entrance into your thighs. 

the harsh, rougher kisses were pulling inappropriate noises out from your throat, and he starts thrusting into you when he assumes you’ve gotten used to him. his right hand was supporting his weight by the side of your head, and his left palm was gripping onto your thigh with such immense strength, you were sure he was going to leave marks by the time you were done. 

seonghwa finally pulls away, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and his pants becoming more apparent. your arms grip onto the edge of the desk above your head, and tears start to form in your eyes when the pain completely dissolves into pleasure and bliss. 

“my pretty, pretty, secretary,” he huffs into your ear and licks the edge of your skin, the contact sending you over an edge and the friction in your abdomen drilling dirty thoughts into your head. 

“seonghwa--” the thrusts get deliberately harder and rougher, the sudden bucking of his hips enough to jerk the entire table. “oh-- shit--”

the tip of him starts to ram into a magical spot inside you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head when he doesn’t stop.

“be a good girl and come for me.”

every word literally gets hammered into you, and it sends you into an abyss of bright light while your legs shiver in ecstasy, and seonghwa pulls out shortly after, his speed allowing him to grab some napkin from the corner of his table so that he wouldn’t release anywhere on his desk. 

you struggle to catch your breath, and seonghwa reaches over to clean you off the table. 

“oh, no,” you cover your mouth and give a painful chuckle. 

“what is it?” his voice was soft and smooth again, and the gears in your head stop to process that this was the same person who just called you a good girl a few moments ago.

he pulls your hand away and gives you a light kiss on your lips, eyes scanning your face with worry and concern. 

“i told you not to do anything dumb, but i ended up doing it with you.”

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

A/N: WHOO ok that was kinda long for a one shot. anyway, it’s super mellow compared to what i did for pilot juyeon so i hope you (smut)readers don’t mind heh. i’m still working on HOSTIS chapter 2, so look out for it! it should be up any time in the next few days. 

thank you for reading, and stay safe!!

- love, dana

[revasnaslan]

Give us your Thane thots

how i feel about this character: thane my beloved 💜💜 he is not my first choice of romance option, but i still adore him with my entire heart. his design is great, i love the drell as a species So Much, even though it's clear they only exist because he does (but we won't get into that today). his backstory is heartbreaking to me, and i'm not just talking about his family, i'm talking about all of it. and the worst part of it is that he doesn't seem to realize just how mistreated he actually was by this system he was raised in, like he made his first kill as a twelve year old thane what the hell. i'd get really REALLY heated if i started going on about the compact, so we also won't get into that today but sufficed to say thane sweetie you need therapy. i do think it was uh... shitty?? of bioware to cut his mlm romance in development.

all the characters i ship romantically with this character: love him and irikah to bits, especially how they met. or well, "met" cause she didn't know who he was at the time. but if there wasn't so much ship hate and die for our ship in this fandom i think they'd be way more popular, considering they're canon. as for other ships... i really like the idea of him and garrus too! idk why but it compells me. him and shep (any gender) is good too!

my absolute favorite for him that isn't him and irikah is him and kaidan though. i'm honestly shocked that this one doesn't pop up more considering they're stuck in the hospital together in 3 for several weeks, and thane outright states they were together when the coup started, implying they hung out during that time. there's also thane promising shep to watch out for him. it has all the makings of a slowburn, one that you can make as tragic as you want depending on if you want thane to die at the end. but i guess it's more fun to write them squabbling over a girl like a pair of teenage boys when they're both in their mid-to-late thirties?? *cough*

my non-romantic otp with this character: looooooooove him and kolyat. they have such a compelling relationship to me, i just wish the fics made it as deep as it actually could be. people seem to skip past the work they'd have to put into fixing their relationship because i guess it's not fun to write about or something.

i also love him and fshep just being friends too! like i like them in a romantic relationship just fine, but ohhhhh my god, the idea of them being best friends who are super close but have no actual interest in getting together is just *chef's kiss* i would love to see this more in fics where she has another romantic relationship going tbh.

my unpopular opinion about this character: he has short person energy and i will not take criticism on that, i see so much fanart where he's like a foot taller than fshep but i personally headcanon him as being around 5'6, or roughly the same height as her per my headcanons. irikah towers over him and he's only interested in people taller than him, don't @ me, he just is.

one thing i wish had happened with this character in canon: this might seem a bit confusing, but i don't actually mind his death so much as how it went down. we knew thane was dying of a terminal illness, so like, we were kind of prepared for it. but i do find it questionable how he just went to c-sec headquarters simply because. idk what he thought he could accomplish there, considering he didn't even know the councilor was there until shep was in the building. and i think this can be chalked up to the writers knowing how they wanted him to die, but not actually thinking of a reason for him to get there. i think they missed a golden opportunity to show his growth by having kolyat be in danger at headquarters, because he's still working on his community service. like it's not a perfect solution, but it makes a hell of a lot more sense for him to be tearing off across the citadel to save his kid than to just go???? when he's literally struggling to breathe???? also sir how could you miss kai leng, he was three feet in front of you and you are an infamous assassin.

my otp: oh god... my favorite ships for him are him and irikah and him and kaidan so

my cross over ship: don't have one

a headcanon fact: after the war, he takes up crocheting. everybody gets a sweater. did you just announce a pregnancy? well congrats because he made you a baby blanket and a set of booties because he went into a crocheting fugue state at 1 am as soon as he heard.

[randomoranges]

here we go folks, after a whole dang month working on this beast it is OVER.

33 pages and nearly 20k words later it’s DONE. idk what to do with my time now [lol what a joke] but here we go.

as they say in the vernac’ attache ta tuque a’c d’la broche à foin.

The Five Times Étienne Fell in Love

PART V

 “You know we don’t have to do this,” He says. He knows this story. It’s their story after all and thankfully, he at least knows it has a better ending, but he’s not sure he wants to hear what Étienne has to say about him.

 “We absolutely do, Murphy; you’re the one who brought this whole thing up.” Étienne teases softly and Edward groans, because, he has and he may as well grin and bear it.

 Edward makes the mistake of turning his head a fraction and catches the last of the saddest of smiles on his friend’s face. He does his best to ignore the swooping sensation in his stomach and focuses on the bird song for a moment instead. They’ve talked over some of the finer points over the last few years. There’s no need to rehash all of it just now. Yet, he’d been the one to open the proverbial door to Pandora’s box and he supposes it is only fair to listen to whatever else it is Étienne has to tell him.

 “Promise it’ll be a good ending.” Étienne ads and that at least makes him crack a smile.

 “It better,” He says and jabs Étienne’s sides gently with his elbow.

 “I still remember the day you showed up on a freaking canoe during Expo. I thought that was the most badass and coolest thing ever. I couldn’t believe it! I remember I kept on telling people that the guy on the canoe? He’s my really good friend! And I was also so psyched to see you!” He laughs and something warm settles in Edward’s stomach.

 Expo had been one of the craziest things he’d ever witnessed in a long time and he’s glad he’d been able to participate, in some way. He does remember Étienne’s look of pure shock and amazement when he’d been there to welcome them and somehow or other, despite Étienne being more than busy during the event, he still managed to find a few spare moments to catch up with him. Plus, at the time, they didn’t see each other as often, so it had really been something for Étienne to take the time to hang out with him, even if it was while they went from one pavilion to the next.

 “I always thought you were attractive, a sentiment that only grew stronger the more we saw each other throughout the twentieth century. I obviously wasn’t going to do anything – not unless you wanted me to, since you were my friend and even if you were into men, it didn’t mean you’d want to be with me.” Despite knowing this, Edward still finds his cheeks heating up at the words and he wonders if he’ll ever get used to the idea that Étienne still thinks of him as someone attractive and handsome. He likes hearing the compliments, even if he flushes furiously.  

 “Then you came to me – when we started reconnecting – and said that you needed an escapism. I could do that. I was more than happy to provide one, especially the kind you were looking for. At that time, I was done, really, with love. Especially with humans. It was too hard, too complicated, too messy and it hurt too damned much. I still wasn’t over Koffey and I vowed that it would never happen again. I had tried. Love just didn’t come as naturally to me as it did to others. It was fine. But I wasn’t about to get that close to humans anymore. Let my guard down and have these feelings creep up on me after months or years. Fuck that shit.”

 “You know,” Edward interrupts, “You could have told me about Koffey at the time.”

 Étienne lets out a bark of a laugh and looks at Edward with a quirk of his eyebrows. “Really? And told you what exactly? P.S., in case I seem more than off, it’s ‘cause the man I loved has just died and I think I’m at fault. Don’t mind me, I’m still reeling from that. Oh, and also from every shitty thing that’s happened in the last ten years, but hey, nice to see you, how’s it been?”

 Edward supposes he has a point. It’s not as if he’d given any information of what had happened to him in the last decade right off the bat either. Retrospectively, however, he would have liked to know. He’s not sure what he would have done, but he knows he wouldn’t have laughed in his friend’s face. Not then and not ever.  

 “Anyways, you wanted sex. You wanted experiences. You wanted to go out and get fucked up. And I wanted that as well. I still needed that as well. It was easy to bring you those things. It was easier still to show you how it was done. You were a very willing student and who was I to deny you? You were the perfect distraction I needed and on top of that, you were my friend.”

 “As the saying goes; misery does love company.” Edward offers.

 Étienne looks at him and laughs. It’s good that, if anything else, they can more or less laugh about it now.  That there are enough better days between those times and now. They’ve grown, changed and gotten better. Found better coping mechanisms.

 “Plus, It helped that you’re like me – that you wouldn’t die on me no matter the drugs, no matter what we did or didn’t do. It felt like – being alive. Somehow. I didn’t have to hide anything with you. We could do what we wanted and see how far our limits would take us. It was liberating – in all its messed up ways. And I knew that no matter how many blackouts we had, no matter what it was we took, I wouldn’t lose you and I didn’t have to explain anything to you. Come the following day, you’d be alive. And that was – a relief.”

 Edward takes a moment to think back to those early years as well. He’d been coming out of his own bad place and Étienne had been a – breath of fresh air, in a way. Despite the abuse of drugs and sex and everything else that had come with it, it had been liberating. He’d felt – free somehow even if he realises now that neither of them had been in a good place at the time either.

 But going off to find Étienne had been his own way to rebel. The parties had been his own way of dealing with things at the time and his way of existing. For once, he felt like he could be some part of himself. That he had control over his own narrative. He may have gone the wrong way about it, but Étienne had been his own anchor, however unsteady he had been. Étienne had been a friend when it had felt like he had no others and someone who’d expanded his horizons. He’d been his point of reference and he’d returned to the proverbial well of knowledge willingly.

 In a way, they’d found each other; from one fucked up mind to another. They’d relied on each other and had turned on each other as well.

 Yet, despite what had happened, he doesn’t regret those years. He’d learned a lot from them and in a way, it had been the cataclysm to getting closer to Étienne.

 “I never expected to fall for you. That wasn’t my plan. I was still mourning Koffey and you were my friend. At a time when it felt like I had very few of those, the last thing I wanted to do was make things complicated by falling for you. Plus, who was to say you would love someone like me? You deserved someone who’d make you happy and who could help you heal.”

 Edward opens his mouth to argue the point. In his opinion, Étienne was a very good candidate to help him – more so now than before, but still. However, Étienne shakes his head and so he keeps the thought to himself and lets him proceed.

 “You could have genuinely just thought of me as a friend only,” He counters and Edward quiets down – he has a point. “My other fear was that you would fall for me, and I wouldn’t and that you wouldn’t understand. There’d been too many people who’d gone down that path and it always ended in another ended relationship. I feared that even if I liked you, I wouldn’t develop those romantic feelings and that it would break your heart and end our friendship. I couldn’t have that. I always valued our friendship above all else.”

 Edward wonders, not for the first time, just how many other people had entered and left Étienne’s life just because he was different. It hurt and angered him to know that so many had potentially missed out on a wonderful relationship – be it friendly or otherwise, just because he worked differently. It was their loss, really, but he hated that Étienne had had to suffer because of it.

 “So I told you. Not to expect a relationship. Not to expect a romantic liaison out of it. That we were just friends having a good time. And it worked. At least, it did at first. For many years it worked. I enjoyed the time we spent together, the benders, the drugs, the parties and the sex. I liked being around you. I liked making you discover new things. I liked having you around.”

 “And then I went ahead and fell in love with you.” He says with the most dramatic of sighs. Étienne spares him a glance and they give each other a look before laughing. It’s such a ridiculous story, yet it’s their story and it makes it that much more special.

 “If it makes you feel any better, I went ahead and fell for you as well. So I guess we both didn’t heed your warning.” Edward gives Étienne’s hand a small squeeze and he smiles softly when his boyfriend laces their fingers together.

 “Yeah, I guess it turned out alright.” He pulls him in for a one-armed hug and Edward nuzzles his face in the crook of Étienne’s neck. They stay that way for a moment, enjoying the possibility and the fact that they’re back here together and even though Edward knows how the first chapter of their relationship ended, he at least knows that they make it back together.

 “It took me a while to realise that I was in love with you,” Étienne tells him gently, “But the signs were there. Those stupid signs Samuel had told me about a million years ago were all there. I felt like such a tool too – that I hadn’t realised it sooner and that of all the things my brother had told me – these were the ones I was going for.”

 “Every time you’d call, I’d feel giddy. Hell, every time the phone rang, and I was expecting your call, I’d run for it, not wanting to miss the call, hoping it was you. I remember walking around in my living room, twisting the telephone cord around my fingers, an excited mess when you’d tell me you were coming back.”

 Edward grins, imagining Étienne doing those things. It’s cute and endearing even and if he holds him a little closer, his boyfriend doesn’t comment on it.

 “I looked forward to all our chats. I couldn’t wait to see you again. I’d even count down the days. I felt – butterflies in my stomach when I would finally see you again. Every time, without fault, I’d just want to scoop you in my arms and hold you close.”

 “For your information, that’s exactly what you’ve always done, sweetheart.” He teases gently. He doesn’t remember Étienne not launching himself at him when he greets him at the airport. He likes it, deep down, even if it’s a little loud and very open – but it’s also so very Étienne and that takes precedence.

 Étienne looks down to him and rolls his eyes, but it’s fond and has no bite. “I know – that’s just the thing, I thought it was normal. We were friends after all. Of course, I was excited to see you. I still do all of those things and I still count down the days to our next visit and I still get those damned butterflies in my stomach when you call or text me or when we see each other. It never fucking stopped – and, well I don’t want it to stop…”

 He trails off for a moment and when Edward looks up at him, he’s happy to see that Étienne’s cheeks have coloured just the same as his.

 “If it makes you feel better, I feel the same way, you know.”

 Étienne presses a soft kiss to the top of his head, “Yeah, I know…”

 At the time, Edward had obviously known that Étienne – liked him, as a friend, but he’d never even started to think that he could like him beyond that, or even love him. If past him could have gotten a glimpse of this very scene, he’s sure the poor fellow would have passed out cold or convinced himself it was some drug induced fantasy worthy of the greatest production of his mind theatre.

 “But then it went beyond that, as if that wasn’t enough. It was the longing to hear your voice; wanting to snuggle up to you. A swooping feeling when you’d kiss me. I wanted to sit and just – spend time with you. Make you laugh. Spend the day together doing nothing. It was less about the drugs and the getting fucked up and more about you – being with you. Wanting to be with you.”  

 “It honest to goodness freaked me out. It felt wrong and stupid to tell you, oh by the way, guess what, I love you, d’you think we can make this work when I specifically told you not to expect a relationship?” He scoffs, annoyed. “Wish I had now.”

 “Hey, you can’t feel sorry for yourself. We’re both to blame. I could have easily done something as well and I didn’t.”

 “Yeah, but, you were going with what I told you. How were you supposed to know?”

 “I could have been bigger about it. Or even told you and laugh it off. The point is, we both didn’t do anything about it and I don’t want you to think that you’re alone in the blame.”

 Étienne lets the issue slide for the moment. He doesn’t want to argue with Edward about this, even though he feels like the bigger part of the blame rests with him. “Still, this was the last thing I wanted to happen yet, there I was completely in love with you, and I had no way of knowing if you felt the same, nor did I want to put you in that spot. In case I did decide to tell you, I didn’t want it to be some big awkward thing. Plus, there was still so much going on for both of us – at least, I know I wasn’t any better; not mentally. Not in the long-term way, anyways. And you weren’t even out to anyone back home.”

 They’ve spoken about that issue in particular. About why Étienne had kept on pestering him about it over the years. It made some sort of sense now that he knew, but at the time, it had annoyed Edward that his friend was so adamant about it. It still didn’t make it okay, but Edward had forgiven Étienne for it – they were beyond that now. (The real question was whether or not Étienne had forgiven himself.)  

 “Yet, the more time went by, the more my feelings for you grew and the more I wanted to try to – be a couple. Be together. Officially and really. I figured if you’d tell me something first – if you gave me a sign that this wasn’t all some construction I’d made in my head, I’d take the plunge – but you never did. And I never gave you an occasion to either. So the proverbial joke was on me.”

 Edward gives Étienne’s hand a squeeze. They’d both been in bad places at the time. He doesn’t regret the step back he had taken from Étienne, for it had given him the space and place to figure himself out and grow, but he had missed him something fierce. It would have been nice to have both at the time; the boyfriend and the coming into himself. He hadn’t exactly been a fan of feeling as though everyone had abandoned him and that he was alone. It would have been nice to welcome the change of the millennium with friends and a boyfriend. But, everything happened for a reason he supposes, even if he doesn’t like said reason. And at least, somehow, things had gotten better over time. It’s already much more than many people unfortunately ever get.

 “There were so many times when I nearly told you. Times when I felt you felt the same. Times when things were good. But every time, I didn’t want to ruin it and make it complicated – figured you knew and therefore, what was the point? We were good and it was all that mattered.” He sighs deeply and picks up the ball again to toss it to Mercury, who goes galloping after it.

 “Retrospectively, I should’ve said something, but I didn’t and then we drifted apart after one argument too many.”

 “Again, it takes two to tango. The blame isn’t yours only.” Edward reminds him. Étienne shrugs and wrestles the ball out of Mercury’s mouth before he throws it again.

 It’s funny how they’ve both tried, over the years, to figure out exactly what happened to their fall out and when, but even they’re fuzzy onthe details. There’d been an argument of sorts, that much they’ve agreed on, and Edward had then returned home. They’d been busy with their own lives, at least one letter had been confirmed lost in the mail and then the years had somehow or other gone by.

 It hadn’t helped that Étienne had stopped going to meetings, so running into him there had happened less frequently. No matter how many times Edward had told himself that he’d make amends at the next meeting, Étienne had never been at it. It also hadn’t helped that the more time went by, the more Edward convinced himself that Étienne had moved on and that it would be pathetic to bring up something that had happened such a long time ago.

 He’d eventually assumed that with their fallout, Étienne had realised that there was nothing to him and that he’d been shelved, just like he’d always feared. It had hurt, obviously, but Edward had been dealing with bigger issues of his own back home and he’d focused his energies elsewhere. Étienne had been a far away fantasy and now that was over.

 On the other hand, Étienne’s own unstable mental health had whispered dark nothings in his ear and had slowly but surely convinced him that Edward had realised that he was messed up and not worth his troubles. He’d then figured that the best course of action was to forget about Edward and move on quickly, before he made a bigger fool of himself. It had pained him, obviously, but it had been the only way.

 Of course, they both realise that there’d been a better option they could have taken, but at least they can say that eventually they did reconnect and had made amends.

“When we stopped hanging out together, I honestly thought it was a temporary thing. Spending that much time together was a novelty anyways, so it didn’t really bother me. We both needed to blow off some steam and I thought for sure things would pick up again soon enough.” He shrugs, “Anyways, I was angry at you as well, so I returned to my regular thing and – put space between us.”

 “I started to worry when days turned to months and then years. It was so – strange, not hearing from you. I wanted to reach out, but I was mad, hurt and petty. Too bad for you, I figured. It’s not like I needed you, I had other friends! But – it felt like I had heard more from you when you didn’t even had a proper post office than now and – it stung. A lot. I went from resenting you to thinking I had fucked up royally and that you no longer wanted anything to do with me. That messed me up even more, because now reaching out to you felt useless. You’d probably just toss me to the side and tell me to get lost.”

 Edward groans and Étienne looks at him, confused. “I think it’s a fucking miracle we managed to actually get back together. I can’t believe we both thought more or less the same thing and it took us that long to – talk.”

 Étienne chuckles, “We’re a special type of stupid.”

 The fact that Edward agrees says a lot about the both of them.

 “I thought it was better to cower away and feel sorry for myself. I tried not to dwell on it too much – tried to move on, while going through a million versions of I told you so. This is why I didn’t want to go ahead and develop feelings! Not only would I get hurt, but you would as well – one way or another, but at least, this way, you had no idea. It was better if you thought I was some heartless monster than some messed up person…”

 Edward wants to once more remind his boyfriend that he is not some monster and that everyone has their own imperfections, but there’ll be time for that later. He needs to make sure that his boyfriend leaves this conversation knowing and reassured that he is not broken.

 “And when I found out about you and Calvin, well that pretty much sealed the deal. You had moved on and I was not about to break that up, regardless of my feelings. I didn’t want to make things even more awkward and complicated, so I kept my mouth shut and just – played it cool; or at least tried to.”

 “What a success that was,” Edward chides even though Étienne had indeed kept his distances and hadn’t brought up his feelings until much later – until after they’d reconnected and after that still.

 “You know what I mean. I may have been called many things in my life, but I wasn’t about to fuck up your relationship just because I was jealous and still loved you.”

 “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” Edward takes a hold of Étienne’s hand and presses a soft kiss to it. He hopes Étienne understands that he’d never thought that about him. He’s relieved when his boyfriend gives his hand a squeeze and that the bite from his voice peters off.

 “It helped when I met new people. That was and is always fun. Building that initial connection, finding that first spark – what they like and what they want. It’s what makes it interesting, really, but of course, even when I hooked up with people just for sex – even when everyone was aware this was just a casual thing, there were still some who’d go ahead and say they loved me. They’d end up thinking that just because we’d meet up a second or third time that it was turning into a serious thing. I just liked their company or wanted to sleep with them again. But they never got it.”

 “At some point, I even faked it. Went along with it. I thought it would be easier. They’d say they loved me, and I’d return it. It – never worked, obviously. I would get tired of pretending. It always felt fake. How could I tell someone I loved them, when they were just a casual friend to me? Or a stranger I had just met? Like, yeah, maybe eventually I would’ve felt love for them – like, with Isabella. We get along great and we certainly have fun, but it’s a casual thing to me. I can’t predict the future, but I certainly do need the time to get to that whole love thing.”

 Edward had been wondering about Isabella, quite honestly. He’d heard of her, over the years, more or less, and Étienne had mentioned a few things about her, but he’d never asked. At first, afraid that his own chance with Étienne was shot and later one because he knew that Étienne loved him and therefore, that was all that mattered to him. Étienne was free to do whatever it was he wanted and if he wanted to share with him on anything, he’d be there to listen.

 Still, with this conversation, he’d been hesitant to ask, afraid Étienne would think he was accusing of something. He’s quite sure he wouldn’t have minded if his boyfriend would have told him he loved Isabella, but he’s also – for the time being – relieved. He supposes he can reflect on exactly why later. There’s enough to process as it is.

 “Yet, it seemed like everyone was after love and everyone equated sex with love, when those two things can be so diametrically different. For so long – for so fucking long there was barely even love in marriages. And now these people were finding love when it was only sex!” He shakes his head as if still in disbelief and Edward gets it, in parts. He’d gone after his fair share of sex only and had only wanted that. He can only begin to imagine how tricky it must have been for Étienne.  

 “Eventually, the other person would feel that there was something off with me. Sometimes, they confronted me about it and then would call me heartless or other such names. How could I not feel the same? They’d ask. What did I mean when I said I didn’t feel love but I didn’t mind them? I must be a monster if I only wanted sex. Christ – why the rush?! They couldn’t understand and it just made me question everything all over again. Had I ever really even loved anyone? Was I really broken? Were they right? Had I missed some great big boat where they were handing out love?”

 “I got tired of that – I’m tired of that.” He sighs and passes an agitated hand through his fringe, before he tugs on a curl that Edward watches bounce back into place. He carefully reaches out for Étienne and puts a comforting hand to his knee.

 “It took me so long to come to terms with the fact that no, I’m not broken.” He admits quietly, “I’m just fine the way I am and it’s okay if romantic feelings never appear, yet every time someone would bring it up, it felt like going back to square one – like I was still that same young man from so many years ago who was terrified I was made broken with missing parts. It honestly got discouraging at times. Like – hell, there’s even a word for it now! Can you believe it?!” He asks without really addressing Edward, “Demi-romantic, how’s that for fun, eh? How fan-fucking-tastic! I now have a shiny new word I can dangle in their faces. As if I needed that to prove my worth! I don’t need crap from others! And I certainly wish my brain could fully get on board with that as well!” He lights up another cigarette, mindful to let the ash fall into the ashtray Edward had dug out for him. He seems a little annoyed, still, - frantic – as if talking about this has brought up some pent up frustration and unprocessed emotions of his, and Edward gently nudges his shoulder and offers him a small smile.

  “You know, even if you had never told me any of this – about you being demi-romantic, I would have never thought of you as broken. I like you the way you are – always have, really.” He knows these words can’t heal all of Étienne’s wounds and he knows they certainly can’t erase the wrongdoings of the past, but he hopes they bring Étienne some comfort, if nothing else. That if Étienne thinks the whole world doesn’t get him, that he’ll always have him. That Edward will always stand in his corner, regardless of their relationship status.

 Étienne gives a sheepish sort of shrug, and takes a long drag from his smoke, before he passes it to Edward, who’s more than thankful for the hit of nicotine. “I’m sorry I went off like that – that turned into some never-ending tangent.” Étienne knows he doesn’t usually over share. In fact, it usually always takes him ages to open up, but Edward has always been his confidant and this had more or less been things he already knew. It had just been different to – verbally tell him, but if they are supposed to be more open and discuss things, he supposes this is a good way to go about it.

 “Don’t apologise – I don’t mind listening to whatever it is you have to tell me, you know that, right?”

 Étienne nods after a moment, “Yeah; thanks for sticking around through all of this, really. I know none of this changes how I acted towards you and what I said and didn’t say, but I’m glad you didn’t toss me under a bus after that whole debacle. I’m glad we got to be friends again and that we’re back together.”

 Edward chuckles and loops an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders to pull him close, “For what it’s worth, I’m also glad we got to be friends again and that we’re back together, silly. I missed having you around.”

 For the first time since this conversation has started, Edward feels as though Étienne’s smile is genuine and it settles something in him. He presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheeks and holds him to his chest for a moment.

 “That’s it – really. I’m just – demi-romantic and was afraid you’d freak out on me, like so many others had. And after all the grief and loss from Gen to Charlotte, Nicholas and Koffey – I was afraid I’d lose you as well. So I kept quiet and – ended up regretting that even more...” He trails off for a moment and Edward feels him tighten his hold on him, “But here we are now,” He says, making his voice sound strong and stopping it from breaking. Despite everything, he’d made it. Despite everything, he’s here, with Edward and Edward still loves him and still wants him in his life.

 “Here we are now.” Edward parrots back. It has to mean something. It has.

 FIN

Part IV

[ziracona]

please bless me with all of your dbd headcanons even just a crumb would satisfy me,,,,, lmao. Fr tho ur hcs are godly pls give me all of them especially for og 4 and wraif

Thank you!! I’m glad you like my hot takes!

Let’s see, og4.

Jake grows facial hair pretty easy (that part is just canon). Usually he either lets it grow and ignores it till it gets long, or stays cleanshaven, but the in-between stage is physically painful for everyone else at the campfire bc you wake up and see rugged 2day scruffy woodsman stretch and he sees you staring and goes, “What?” Looking thoroughly unimpressed and Meg sheds a tear and Claudette pretends to not be looking and stares at her journal and Dwight gets heart palpitations it’s just bad for the whole group. When he shaves he’s an edgy dumbass and does it with a sharpened hunk of metal he made into a knife for himself and Dwight saw him shaving once and had to go sit down.

Jake has a soft spot for many of the survivors he’s known longer (honestly at this point, he’s pretty attached to the lot of them though), but especially the ones who work really hard at protecting other survivors. Double points if you’re younger than him. He would kill for Claudette, and take a bullet meant for Quentin, but would not convey this to them at all. Jake puts almost zero effort into making sure people knows he likes them. The people he has a soft spot for especially are also not always the ones he prefers to spend time with. While they’re survivors he spends less time with personally, Jake respects Feng Min for being the snarky little gremlin she is, and Tapp’s dedication to his job even here. Weirdly, while the people he likes often aren’t aware of affection, the ones he respects but isn’t as close to usually are aware of the respect. Jake also thinks he doesn’t like having friends and spending time not alone, but he does.

If asked point blank his thoughts on a survivor he likes, he’d probably just shrug or say, “They contribute to the team,” or “She works hard,” or “He’s fine,” because Jake just be like that. He had a hard time getting close to anyone initially because of how he grew up. Jake’s very guarded. He’s used to people manipulating and using each other, which makes keeping anything vulnerable close to his chest just necessary as he sees it. Boy doesn’t trust easy. Or open up. Ya need a can opener. Boy also does not like getting pushed around. Least favorite killers (aside from Nightmare) are probably Doctor and Ghostface, because he cannot stand being forced to do things or used. He’d rather take a chainsaw to the back than have someone lord power over him. He’s also got a looong memory, so if you fuck him over, he is not the kind to forget and forgive. He is the kind to resent and remember. Not that he never forgives people, but boy would have to really believe whatever happened was regretted and the person wasn’t like that anymore to let something that made him very angry go. He’s quiet angry though. Bide your time and get vengeance kinda angry. Would never let someone push him around. If a killer tried to fuck with him, he’d do everything in his power to kill them.

While Jake is tough and likes to hike just to be out and moving, and enjoys toughing it out, Meg enjoys being outside more as a fun thing than a wildnerness lifestyle thing. She has a lot of energy, and even in the realm, all that adhd can be a bitch. It would be easy to focus on the shitty stuff happening and drown in that, so she likes to keep moving, like she has since she was a kid and started running. Meg loves hard, and if she cares about you, she’ll make sure you know it. Not good at shutting up or realizing if she’s been going on for too long, girl has passion for everything.

Meg talks a big game, but does not have as much confidence as she pretends to have. She has abandonment issues, but they’re less, ‘my dad abandoned me’ and more ‘everyone but my mom, from him to grade school friends, hasn’t stuck around,’ so she does worry about that and coming on too strong, which she is aware she often does, but she can’t get herself to turn down the power settings on herself even when she tries. She’s never been good at making friends, so all of this in the realm is kinda new to her, since no one can leave. Meg would tell almost no one those things about herself. She cares hard though, and will try to distract other people from realm despair any way she can, because it’s what she needs and she assumes what they must need too. And to be fair, she ain’t wrong. Good at cultivating activities and drinks loving her friends juice.

Big goofball. BIG goofball. Also big gay. Well, bi af, but w a pretty strong preference for the ladies. She is simple of heart. Sees a girl, loses ability to think. Bonded with Nea over this problem. High int, low wisdom, big dumbass. Her weaknesses include girls’ eyes, voices, accents, freckles, scars, stomachs, legs, ass, titties, hair, hair dye, laughs, hands, eye contact, and cute accessories. Not great at expressing her feelings when she catches them, but tries hard. Actually pretty good at romancing once she gets into the groove. It’s just getting there she sucks at. Loyal as hell. Will go to bat for her friends and would rather die than betray them.

Meg has a real temper, especially when she feels like something being done to her or someone else is unjust/unfair, and will always try to fix those things even when it’s hopeless. Can and will weaponize her anger extremely effectively. Ridiculous memory for pop culture, shit memory for homework and things she was supposed to be doing. Memelord, but with some class.

Idk if this is because I identified with Claudette really strongly when I first started playing dbd or not, but I have always seen her as Asexual & Panromantic. Attracted to kindness. 

She gets overwhelmed fairly easily, but has been improving that by necessity since arriving in the realm, and can tap into the mom-friend override to fix problems for people who aren’t her. Has a hard time telling when people are teasing her/joking, but everyone knows this so they take it easier on her than each other.

Like Meg, had no friends before this, so it’s exciting and new, and a little scary, but mostly really good. She worries about other people a lot, and doesn’t always know how to help, but she tries. Very relieved Dwight volunteered to be team leader.

Enjoys recording things and studying. Would be fascinated by the Entity’s world if she wasn’t always being killed. Seems small and weak and easy to take down, but she has the strength of will to kill God herself if backed into a corner, especially when fighting for someone she loves. Sweet does not mean she will not fight back, and since being in the realm, and getting over her initial freezing up at the sight of horrifying murderers, she has worked extremely hard to be brave and take an active roll protecting people whenever she can. She is still terrified a lot, but has learned to push through that to help her friends and herself.

Loves animals, including ones a lot of people don’t like (bugs, snakes, rats, etc) and would and has definitely tried to snag a scorpion and a cockroach from trials to study before, and tried to befriend the realm rats now that they exist. Tries to get Jake to show her how to get birds to like you but does know how to ask him right.

Nervous about interpersonal relationships and unsure of herself. Really likes everyone but horrible at telling how other people feel. Feels like she always comes off wrong and can’t put words to things well even when she understands them super well. Does her best 24/7. Incredibly smart and talented. Knowledgeable about her passions. Is always thinking 4th dimensionally and has saved the team many a time by pulling off wild bullshit that makes sense kind of just barely but no one else would have thought of.

Dwight was a loser and kind of a douche growing up, kind of selfish and entitled and weak, but is no longer that person after a few years in the realm. He works hard to make good on his promises to look out for everyone, and cares about them very genuinely. Great at thinking on his feet and sounding like he knows more than he does, wonderful at regulating tasks to people efficiently, and not a bad strategist. 

Being the kind of person now who would not have liked the person he was a few years ago causes a little cognitive dissonance and self-doubt, but he’s trying. Genuinely enjoys hearing about people’s days and interests even when he’s completely lost. 

Not a fan of heights. If the fear of heights was not vastly overpowered by fear of sharp object, he would actively avoid the old ironworks in trials, but alas.

Used to play video games a lot. Thought he was good at them. Was not. Was definitely not.

Self-improvement king. Works hard and is a really decent dude. A very good sport. Used to be an asshole, so now that he’s nice he’s pretty damn forgiving if other people put in the work to improve too (my boy’s no hypocrite). Has mellowed out a lot and is pretty chill and nice but the damn fool will break his own heart by taking things people say the wrong way, or things they mean as a joke literally, if it’s something he thinks is true about himself, and will totally miss context and vocal inflection and just be like, “I know but I’m trying TuT.”

Big gay but in denial and confused

Just at this point really does want people to get to go home and be ok. Loves hearing stories and listening to his friends talk at the campfire because it makes him feel like things might be okay. Get the same result just by being near his friends, especially the other og3 who have been with him forever. If they’re all still there, things have to turn out okay someday. :’ ) Has never really told them that, because he’s supposed to be the leader, and thinks they’d feel less secure if they knew he depends on being able to sleep close to them at night to feel like he’ll be okay himself. Not in a they’d judge me way, but in a I really don’t want to let them down way. He wants them to think he’s got a handle on things even when he really doesn’t.

I was gonna do Philip too but I got this this morning and this post is already ridiculously long TuT, so here you go. Plus one mini Philip one.

Philip feels responsible for the young man he saw his boss kill the day the Entity got him. He knows that he killed scores of people unknowingly for Azarov, and those weigh, but he thinks sometimes late at night that if he could have just saved that one, it might have been enough to make him feel absolved someday for all the other deaths on his head. He remembers his face very well, and how terrified he was, and the moment of confusion and relief, and almost gratefulness when Philip let him go. He thinks over and over that if he’d just talked to him–assumed something was up, and gotten him to be quiet. Seen Azarov in time and stopped him. So many little things, and the young man would have lived. Even if the others were things he was completely blind to, he feels like that one is especially his fault, and that he could have stopped it. That one really haunts him.

[foxtophat]

MERRY CHRISTMAS IN JANUARY EVERYONE yeah i know ~nothing is fixed~ but whatever, fuck you, have some fanfic

so anyway i’ve been planning this for a while, i’m kinda shocked tho b/c i finished writing it in like less than 3 days??? (aside from editing)  usually it takes me longer to at least figure out how to wrap things up, but at least this one was easy money. i’m sure none of the other ones will be so kind to me

this one takes place a month or so after the last one; it’s set in spring 2028 (omfg finally on a new year!!!!) and it has a little something to do with carmina finally getting some chickens!!!!  one thing about new dawn that i think was really lacking is the explanation of how life... restarted before the highwaymen.  i definitely remember a few houses having chicken coops, too, so i know i’m not crazy putting these feathered friends in.  to me, chickens are the most sensible post-apocalyptic pet outside of a dog; easy to care for, provide food while alive AND after death, and they can reproduce easily enough if you’ve got a rooster on hand.  i can imagine a family making quite a life for themselves as a poultry farm in the apocalypse!

ugh idk what else to say so i’ll just say it: thank you so much for all of your comments and kudos on this series. i am so stoked to know that my self-indulgent trash is delicious to more than just my possum ass!  i’ve had a lot of fun worldbuilding in ubisoft’s playground, and i hope to continue doing more fun stuff that other people will enjoy too!!!

with all that said, i hope you enjoy the fic :) i’ll put it below the cut for you if you don’t wanna leave tumblr, but ao3 looks so much better. anyway, thank you and have a great jan 20th!!!!

Winter melts away the same way it does every year, leaving in its path wet dirt and green buds of spring growth. John, nursing what's likely the last cup of coffee they can wring from this batch of grounds, stares out over the back yard and idly marvels at how quickly the snow had disappeared. Montana had been his first experience with white winters; even though he's gotten used to the changing seasons in theory, though, he can't help but be distracted by it year after year.

Across the yard, situated just in sight by the hangar, John can plainly see Carmina's new chickens looking for breakfast. They're the newest addition to the homestead, but so far John has only had to watch from afar as the Ryes worked to adjust them to their new home. He's not sure who's raising chickens out here, but at least they were willing to barter. Fresh eggs are going to mean a lot more than the dwindling supplies out of Jacob's cache.

The misty-gray of early morning has almost evaporated in the rising sunlight, and still the chickens haven't been fed. John watches them from where he stands, their frustration leading to subdued crows as they scratch at the dirt. He doesn't know who's noisier — them, or Nick and Kim arguing at the table behind him. Thank Christ the wet end of winter is over; John doesn't think he can tolerate much more of their married nagging. On some level, he's glad they don't make a habit of yelling at him instead of each other, but Jesus, he can't wait for them to both get some space from one another.

"This is why we said we weren't gonna do pets, remember?" Nick says. "Because if she got a pet, we would end up taking care of it. Remember?"

"Yes, Nick, I remember."

"Yeah, and here we are!"

Kim sighs. John doesn't have to look to see the exasperated eye-roll that comes with it. "It wasn't me who kept her up late last night! Which one of us was egging her on when she should have been asleep?"

This is exactly why John has never owned a pet. They're more trouble than they're worth, and the only thing they seem to be good for is teaching shitty life lessons to kids who don't care enough to learn. The only good thing about the chickens is that they provide something in return other than obnoxious crowing.

Carmina thumps around upstairs. John isn't looking forward to having to listen to Kim lecture her on responsibility, but he's not thrilled to listen to much more of this bickering, either. If his choices are to stay inside and fester or go out into the first nice day of the year — well, that's not much of a choice, is it?

"Fine," John sighs before either of the Ryes can set their sights on him, "I'll do it."

"Nobody's asking you to do it," Kim replies. "It's Carmina's responsibility."

John shakes his head. "Of course it is. Where's the feed?"

Nick points out a white plastic container sitting on the pass-through to the kitchen. "Not gonna wait for us to boss you around?" he asks.

John picks up the container and rattles it to make sure it's full. "I'm streamlining the process," he replies. "Unless you enjoy giving me orders."

Sure enough, implying Nick might like being a bossy piece of shit is enough to get him to shut up. He sighs with a deep frown at John, who ignores him as he heads out to the coop. It's a petty satisfaction to take the rug out from under Nick's feet, but John's not above it. Not by a long shot.

Some of it might be compensating for the disintegrating peace that had come with winter. Before the blizzard set in, they'd had enough on their collective plates as they prepared for the worst of the season. Afterward, the snow had prevented them from doing much more than what was necessary to survive, and the resulting downtime had settled like a comfortable blanket. Even now, with a few weeks of grating interpersonal interactions, John feels more focused, more rested than he can ever remember feeling. Living underground for eight years, he'd naively thought that he'd gotten enough rest to last him a lifetime — but he'd been strung out on Bliss and trying not to suffocate, and he hadn't known what he was doing. He's starting to suspect that the Bliss might've had a worse effect on him than the myriad other drugs he'd ingested. Hell, he's not sure he's clean even now — but he's managing, and that's what matters.

It's only once he's halfway across the yard that John realizes Kim forgot to argue about him going off on his own. Sure, he's only going as far as the hangar, but it's become something of a pleasantry she uses whenever John pretends to have the freedom to go where he pleases. Her irritation at Carmina and Nick probably made her forget. She's gotten so used to trusting John that she's finally found other things to take up her attention.

Weirdly enough, the casual disregard for his potential backslide irritates him. It really shouldn't. He should be thrilled that he can finally disappear from view for an hour without somebody calling out a search party. He's more than earned it, he thinks, but their trust highlights their naivety. Luckily for them, John means it when he says he's changed — but it's a line they're going to hear time and again from people far less genuine than he's been. They're so willing to help everyone and anyone that they don't even realize how much of a target they're making themselves. John's had to hold his tongue whenever Nick gives free supplies to shifty-eyed tweakers who are "just passing through," and while he trusts Kim not to let anyone obviously suspicious into the house, he doesn't trust her to recognize a cunning liar.

The last thing John needs is for the Ryes to put their trust in the wrong reformed psychopath. At least he's capable of picking up their slack. After all, John has his time at law school and years of psychological abuse under his belt — plenty of real-world experience dealing with unrepentant garbage. He'll notice it when somebody cases the hangar or acts too erratically, and hopefully the Ryes will listen to him if he gets the nerve to voice his concerns.

Not for the first time since summer, John is struck with a newfound respect for Jacob and the role he'd inhabited in the Project. It used to be his job to look out for insurrectionists, and he'd taken on that burden even when John and Joseph would openly dismiss his concerns. John can't imagine how many fires Jacob must've put out while the rest of the family was distracted by the Bliss. Looking back on it now, it's honestly a surprise they maintained their operation as long as they did, considering only one of the four of them was ever sober.

The chickens are hopping at his arrival, scuttling around the dirt and crowing as John reaches the pen. They don't notice him so much as the bin he rattles on approach, full of vegetable cuttings and strange white worms that come out whenever it rains. John doesn't mind one lick — he's never been much of an animal person, and he certainly doesn't care if Carmina's so-called pets notice his existence. Of course, knowing Carmina, she's going to use this as an excuse to shift breakfast duty to John full-time, and John won't have much of a say in the matter.

Well, that's not strictly true, but if Carmina asked, he knows he would do it, if only to give his day more structure. Truthfully, he's grown to depend on routine, when before it was impossible to keep to a schedule that didn't involve other people's expectations of him. There's probably a metaphor to be made about trains on and off the tracks, but John has never been particularly interested in locomotives.

John shakes the dead bugs and scraps out into the pen, watching the hens as they race to be the first to eat. They're perfectly happy now that they've been fed, cooing and clucking as they peck the dirt. They certainly seem content with safety and food — not entirely unlike the survivors living day-to-day in the town and beyond. Sure, John might not always be satisfied by bare sustenance, and one day he'll chafe under the grind of surviving week to week, but for now, he might as well be a dumb chicken crowing in the morning sun.

He throws some more feed into the pen, watching the three hens waddle after their meal. One of them lingers by the fence, freezing for a moment as her head swivels back and forth. She pecks at the dirt away from the feed before hustling after her two companions. John watches as she stops again; when he tosses a few worms in her direction, she pecks briefly at them before lifting her head to survey her surroundings.

The primal sensation of something being wrong nearly overtakes John's reasoning, before he manages to remind himself that a chicken's predators aren't exactly his to worry about. Still, he rattles the container to bring the hens scuttling towards him; all three are easily distracted by food now, but John can't shake the feeling that he'd missed something they hadn't. A fox, maybe? A snake? Anything could be lurking in the woods on the other side of the wash. Not a whole lot that could hurt him , of course, but he's not about to be blamed for Carmina's chickens being eaten by a wild dog.

The fence-line is... nebulous past the hangar, sure, but John's positive Kim doesn't consider the rest of the old airport off-limits. Then again, she might be in the mood to lecture him once she gets through with Carmina. It's a risk he's not sure he's willing to take.

Two chickens continue to eat as one keeps watch, their heads bobbing up and down as they switch off. Their unease mirrors his own, and John can imagine Faith giggling at him for being swayed by some dumb birds.

"Very well, ladies," he sighs, shaking the remainder of their breakfast onto the ground. "Don't let them say I don't care."

The chickens don't give three shits about John's motivations, of course; they watch him go, pecking at the food with increasing carelessness as the distance grows. John rolls his eyes at their sudden fearlessness, half-convinced to let whatever animal is lurking eat them out of spite.

There's a wide swath of dirt behind the hangar, separating it from the mostly-overgrown remnants of Rye Aviation that couldn't be saved. John can see the edge of the chicken pen from here, but the hangar is blocking him from the house. Even though he knows the Ryes trust him not to run off, he still feels distinctly uneasy going somewhere where they can't see him. At this point, Nick would probably only tease him for it, but John's not about to linger out here and risk turning Kim's irritation on himself.

To the right of the derelict hangars is a sparse wedge of trees that have grown in uninterrupted. John knows there's a path cut between the trunks, one he'd made himself while hauling the tire-planters for Kim last year, and there's a long stretch of unused runway beyond it. It isn't a great place for anything bigger than a fox to lurk in. That doesn't explain the feeling of being watched that comes over him as he stops halfway across the empty dirt lot; he looks around, but there's no place for anything to hide out here. The overgrowth on the old hangars can't be more than two feet high, and the bushes in the copse are brambly and sparse. The only place anything could hide would be in the trees, which is why John approaches them with more caution than they're worth.

The thinned underbrush is easy to explore, but John goes carefully as he picks through the trees and bushes. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for — some sign of predators, whatever those might be — but he doesn't find much. There are some hoof-prints clear in the dirt, curving sharply away from the Rye homestead and back out to the airstrip, which tells John that the goddamn deer are back, probably looking to eat their hard-grown crops. Other than that, there's no sign of anything that might be stalking the hen-house. The ground is still somewhat soft from the rain a few nights ago, but it barely takes the imprint of John's boots as he explores the small grove.

That's why it's such a shock to see the tread of a narrow boot in the dirt by the trunk of one of the trees, well off the beaten path. It's an old print, he thinks — but he doesn't remember the last time any one of them had been out this way. Certainly not since the last time it rained.

An electric shock conducts itself down his spine. Somebody had been out here, hiding here in the trees, and it's only been two, three days since the last rain. John turns, and from his vantage point, he can clearly see the coop and the back of the hangar, but not the house. For that, he'd have to move out of the trees, into direct view of the porch.

It has to be Grace's boot. She's the only one he could imagine creeping around the property with good intentions. But even that explanation doesn't settle the anxious flip of his stomach; he tries not to let it show as he marches from the trees, intent on dragging Nick over and proving to him once and for all that they need to be more goddamn careful about who they let around the property. Somebody is going to want the copper fixtures they've salvaged, even if there's nobody to sell the metal to these days.

John gets halfway back to the coop when he catches something in his peripheral vision. Terrible, primal terror grips him as he fixes his gaze on the trick of the light that had scared him, ready to catch Grace peering at him over the abandoned hangars, or maybe a pack of wild dogs. What he sees instead turns his blood to ice, caught like a deer in headlights as the low-hanging shrubbery and thick vines shift and part for a rising mass of dark brown fur. The shape that rises from the underbrush is a tall, dark smudge against the blue sky, and John nearly swallows his tongue when he sees its face — or the horrifying absence of one, replaced with white, flaking skin and two huge, empty eye-sockets that are fixed on John's position.

It doesn't move. Neither does John, frozen to the spot as the chickens begin to crow and fuss. He can't fathom what he's looking at — a bear, a person, a fucking mutant? — but whatever it is, he suspects it's infected with Bliss. Who knows how many angels ended up underground after the Collapse? What might've happened to them in the years since? All John knows about them is that they're dangerous to everybody but Faith, and Faith died a decade ago. If this is an angel — God, there'll be no stopping it. And if it isn't — then what the hell is it ?

There's no way for John to get from here to the house without the thing chasing him. The hangar is blocking his brutal oncoming murder from the two people who might actually be able to do something about it. He doesn't have to look to know the distance from here to the house is insurmountable.

The creature lifts its arm, and the situation that couldn't get any worse takes an even more horrifying turn as it reveals its weapon of choice: a crudely fashioned bow, the same kind of handmade weaponry that Joseph's followers have been seen with.

All at once, Nick's voice is ringing in John's ears, warning him of what's going to happen if this gargoyle takes him away. The things John hadn't considered before — the Ryes' reputation, Carmina's safety, the hard-won trust John's gained from the survivors — it's all in jeopardy. The situation barrels into him all at once — the realization that whatever Joseph did to create this thing , he won't hesitate to turn on John.

He tries to shout a warning, but his breath is caught in his throat. Faith's voice, faint on the breeze, laughs and whispers sing-song into his ear:

They've found you!

The monster barrels down the slope of the hill as if prodded into action by a hot poker. Its gait is wide, bringing it towards John at speeds impossible to outrun. This time, John's shout comes out clear as a bell, panic screaming through him as he turns and bolts for the house. He nearly clips himself on the pen as he hangs a sharp right turn, the porch coming into full sight —

Something snags the back of John's shirt, and his momentum briefly chokes him. A thick arm bears down across his neck before he can rip free, the creature grunting in exertion as it yanks him backward. John feels his boots scrape on the dirt as he's dragged towards the trees, away from the safety that's plain in sight.

Animal instinct kicks in. John gnashes his teeth but there's nothing to bite, so he kicks out his feet instead, first in front of him and then harshly backward until he can hook his shin behind his assailant's and trip them both to the ground. The creature goes down with a surprised grunt; John does his best to roll away, only to be yanked back by his hair. He's distantly aware that he's spitting like a cat in a sack, clawing and biting, the two of them rolling in the dirt as John screams profanities and heresy at the monster trying to pin him down, anything to convince the universe to take mercy on him for once in his fucking life!

The creature manages to grab him by the shoulder, throwing him into the dirt before backhanding him violently across the face. It's enough to daze him; for one horrible second, he's unable to do anything as the monster begins to drag him across the dirt by the legs.

There's a commotion coming from the house. For a split second, the creature looks up, and John realizes his opening at the same time the monster realizes its mistake. It looks down just in time for John to kick it square in its barky, hollow-eyed face, sending a split down the wooden facade.

" John !"

The monster reels backward as if burned, grabbing at the mask as it falls away. John catches sight of a single dark, wild eye behind the broken wood before he kicks out again, sending both boots into his assailant's chest. As soon as the creature staggers back, John bolts, scrambling towards Kim as she races toward him with the rifle drawn. Nick is hot behind her; he grabs John's shoulder and drags him partway back to the house. John doesn't need the escort, and so Nick quickly leaves him to scramble up the porch as he goes after his wife.

John gets all the way to the stairs inside before he realizes there's no safe place to hide. He'd found out this winter just how flimsy the prisoner story had been; if somebody wants to take him, all they have to do is climb onto the roof and jimmy the lock on the nearest window. Whether it's through the broken window in his room or a gap in the roof leading to the attic, the Project will find him. He can't possibly outrun them forever. He'd be stupid to even try. God, he'd been a fool for thinking Joseph wouldn't send someone looking for him, that he wouldn't want to snatch John back from the clutches of apostasy. There's no way Joseph will leave a loose end like him untied.

John sinks to the bottom steps in his mounting despair, only to realize for a second time that he's being watched. The realization is less of a shock as Carmina peers at him around the kitchen archway; she jumps at the distant rapport of gunfire, staring owl-eyed at John as though she expects him to do something.

"Stay down," John hisses, setting an example as he keeps low on his way into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Carmina asks, frantic, "Is mom gonna be okay?"

"Yes," John replies, although he can't possibly know that for sure. He waits a beat, listening for more gunshots, then carefully lifts his head to check out the window when none come. He lets out the breath he'd been holding when he sees Nick standing with his hands on his hips, staring at Kim further down the yard. Whatever the danger had been, it's not pressing enough to warrant immediate action.

"Seriously," Carmina whines, as if that could hide her fear. "What was it? Was it a bear? Grace says there are bears in the woods but I've never seen —"

John sinks to the ground, his mind reeling even as the panic passes, leaving him numb. "It wasn't a bear."

Carmina chews on her lower lip, looking up towards the window as though she might try looking for herself. "Are the chickens okay?" she asks.

"They're fine," he sighs. He pushes his hair from his face, only to realize that his hands have started to tremble with run-off adrenaline.

"Are... you okay?" she asks, frowning as though she can't decide whether or not his wellbeing is her problem to deal with.

Goodwill must be genetic, John laments. "I'm fine," he tells her. She gives his shaking hands a hard look; he sighs and reiterates, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I'm not," Carmina huffs. Apparently, Nick's attempts to teach Carmina how to bluff haven't worked out.

John is saved from needing to reassure her as Nick abruptly appears in the kitchen arch, out of breath and red-faced. His shock gives way to relief at the sight of the two of them huddled by the counter. He's out of breath and visibly bewildered.

"Shit, John, you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, although he doubts Nick will believe it any more than Carmina had. His foot jogs uselessly against the floor. "Kim — did she...?"

Nick shakes his head. "She tried," he says, "But it was too fast. What the fuck was it ?"

"Somebody from the Project."

"No shit. But — look, it wasn't an angel , was it?"

John shakes his head. "I don't know."

Kim storms into view, making her way to the pass-through from the living room side. She sets the rifle down on the counter, catching John's eye with a glare. John hurries to explain himself, as if he could possibly apologize for bringing the cult back to her doorstep.

"I was checking for foxes," he tells her, "I didn't think it — if I'd known what it was, I wouldn't have gone on my own."

Despite the fury in her eyes and the hard edge to her voice, Kim seems to mean it when she replies, "As long as nobody's hurt."

But the damage is done, and John can't help but babble on uselessly. "I wasn't looking in the right place. But I shouted as soon as I saw it. I just — couldn't outrun it. I wasn't fast enough. And I wasn't — it was stronger than I expected, stronger than..." Even he can hear the panic edging into his voice, cutting himself off with one last worried question. "Do you think it's gone?"

"It better be, if it knows what's good for it," Kim replies. "Are you sure you're okay?"

At any other time, John would be irritated to have to reassure every single Rye individually that he isn't in the throes of a panic attack. Right now, he's only grateful to realize that Kim doesn't blame him for the thing's appearance.

"I am," he says. "Thank you."

Nick groans, covering his eyes with one hand as he leans against the counter. "So much for it being safe to go out alone. Damn it, we got too comfortable."

" I got too comfortable," John says. "It wouldn't have cared about either of you."

"What about the chickens?" Carmina asks, "Are they safe there?"

Kim crosses her arms. "What I want to know is what the hell the Project is doing out here."

Her question is the only one John has any insight into, although he doesn't know how realistic his theory is. "They might be hunting deer," he says. "The only thing I saw, other than — than that , were deer tracks."

"All the way out here?" Kim asks skeptically.

"The hunting can't be any good in that swamp they're hiding in," Nick points out, frowning as he considers the idea. "And there are more survivors around the river these days. I'd bet that'd make for slim pickings."

"I doubt we'd even know they come out this far if I hadn't been the one out there. At least we've confirmed they're actively searching for resources beyond their compound — and they're relying on traditional methods to do so. Most likely because the armory was destroyed."

"Thank God for the Deputy," Nick sighs. "Okay. We're just gonna have to... I dunno, be willing to shoot, I guess." He doesn't sound so sure about it, and he quickly softens the intention. "At least a couple more warning shots. Once they remember guns outstrip arrows every way but sustainability, they'll probably keep back."

"We can push the fence-line out, too," Kim says. "It won't necessarily stop them, but at least it'll give them a line to cross. They're not cavemen — they remember property laws and how those get enforced around here."

"We'll have to start checking the traps more often. They might be living like bloodthirsty Mennonites right now, but that doesn't mean they aren't willing to steal to survive."

"They'll justify it one way or another," John sighs.

"So I guess we don't have to move the chickens after all," Nick says, "So long as we establish a perimeter. Sound good, Carmina?"

Carmina must have slipped out at some point during the conversation because she's nowhere to be found in the kitchen. Nick glances over John's head and out the window, swearing loudly.

"What the hell is she doing out there?"

John gets to his feet as Nick and Kim take off. He watches them through the window as they chase after Carmina, who's stopped to look around partway towards the coop. Either she's dumber than she seems, or she's inherited both of her parents' reckless streaks. Either way, she's going to leave herself open the same way John had. She's too confident that nobody wants to hurt her. The only way John knows how to teach that lesson, though, is not one that Kim or Nick would approve of — and so he sidelines his worries in favor of sticking with whoever is more armed than he is.

By the time John comes outside, Kim is knee-deep in the middle of a heated lecture about safety and responsibility. Carmina scowls at her feet, her face turning red as she's scolded. John ignores them, passing them by in favor of catching up with Nick, who's come to a stop a few yards past the coop. He's staring out into the unoccupied land — land that used to be his property, once. Now Nick is as much a stranger here as John is.

"Check it out," Nick says, holding out a thin, white-barked piece of wood. John takes it and recognizes it immediately as part of the mask he'd broken in two. The hole for the eye is a roughly cut gouge in the soft wood, and the bark flakes as he wipes his thumb across it.

"I hadn't even considered a mask," John admits. "I thought it was a monster."

"You and me both," Nick replies. He heaves a sigh. "Still waiting for the mutants to crawl out of the sewers, I guess. But I think we can handle a couple of jackasses with arrows."

John squints across the clearing, as if maybe his assailant has hung around waiting for them to reappear. "Next time, it might be Joseph," he points out grimly. "That hunter recognized me immediately. They'll tell him I'm here, and he'll want to find me."

"Come on. Like Joseph's gonna risk crossing enemy territory on foot. I'd be more worried about those goddamn hunting parties you used to send out."

John unconsciously reaches up to rub his throat. "Yeah," he says. "You're right. One of them clearly wasn't enough, but if Joseph decides I'm worthwhile, they'll come as a pack. If he's still manufacturing Bliss somehow, it would be easy to subdue me. And then..."

He's surprised out of his would-be reverie as Nick slaps his shoulder with a heavy hand. "We're not gonna let that happen," he says. "As long as you put up the same fight you did today, Kim and I are gonna come running."

Despite the reality of hidden archers and surprise ambushes, John allows himself to be reassured by the sentiment. At the very least, he pretends for Nick's sake. "I suppose you two were quick to the rescue," he drawls. "But if they get me to the tree-line, I'd rather you just put me down before I get dragged all the way back to the compound."

Nick chuckles. "We'll try to avoid that for now."

Looking over his shoulder, John catches Kim crouched down in front of Carmina, hands on her shoulders. Whatever she's saying, it's too quiet for John to hear, but Carmina's sniffles are a loud precursor to a lot of tears.

"I guess she believed you when you said the Project wouldn't care about us," Nick sighs. "At this rate, we're gonna have to put a bell on her."

"I could tell her about the child soldiers from the summer camp, if that would prove the gravity of the situation."

Just the mention of it makes Nick look a little queasy, and John immediately regrets bringing it up. "I don't want to scare her that badly," Nick says. "She's a good kid, she means well. She just needs to stop going off half-cocked, is all." He rubs his hand across his forehead and complains, "I thought we taught her to be smarter than this."

"She's still your kid," John says. Nick gives him a sour look, but it's the truth no matter how bitter Nick might feel about it. "You can't expect her to be utterly obedient, given her genetics."

"I guess ." He sighs, shaking his head. "At any rate, it's time we stop sugar-coating the cult for her benefit. She's obviously not taking it seriously."

John looks again and sees Kim embracing Carmina tightly. He can't help but worry about what might happen if the hunters come back. When he'd been with the Project, he'd understood Joseph's motivations — at least superficially — but now he's completely in the dark. They used to fill their ranks with abducted children and their desperate parents. He has no idea if Joseph is in a position to expand his flock, but if he is... John does not doubt that they'll start with the young and impressionable. Carmina, being young but not as impressionable as they'd like, probably wouldn't make it back to the compound before she got herself killed. He can't imagine anyone having enough patience to break her.

"You... uh, think we should be worried?" Nick asks after a brief stretch of silence.

"Not yet," John replies grimly. After all, the Ryes have a bargaining chip like no other, in case their daughter is ever taken. John can see to it that she's left alone, but it will only work once — and after that, who knows which brother will be sending hunters after her.

"Good thing we got ourselves a couple of extra guns," Nick says. "You and her are gonna have to start carrying pretty much everywhere."

"I'm sure people will love that."

"Fuck people, man, did you see the size of that fucking guy?"

John can't help a wry smile. "They weren't so big. If I were a couple of years younger, I would have taken them."

"Yeah, sure. "

The lecture must be over with for now, as Carmina's attention has turned back to her chickens. Kim watches her from a distance; John can't read her expression from here, but her posture is tense and defensive. John can't blame her — he doesn't have a parental bone in his body, but the stress of raising a child in these conditions isn't lost on him. Trying to instill a sense of fear into somebody who lived their formative years without a threat in sight can't be easy. Doubly so, considering Carmina can no doubt outgun the rudimentary weaponry the Project is utilizing. Hell, maybe they really are only a threat to him. Maybe it doesn't matter if Carmina sneaks out of the house.

"She won't leave unnoticed again," John decides, because it's the only promise he can genuinely keep.

"Oh yeah? You're gonna eat those words when she's a teenager."

"I'd hope she would be smart enough to bring back up by then."

"Me too." Nick exhales loudly enough to get Kim's attention, stretching one arm over his chest, then the other. "Well, I guess we better get started if we want to have anything to show for it by nightfall."

Even so, it takes Nick another moment before he brings himself to move. John lingers behind, unable to help himself as he eyes the trees distrustfully. There's nothing saying that hunter isn't still out there, watching them from a safe distance. If Jacob had a hand in training them, it's unlikely that John will ever see them coming again. He's likely lost the one chance at a level playing field, and he hadn't even realized it was something he could lose.

Fuck it. It doesn't matter. John has adapted time and again to every disaster in his life, and there's something to be said for the person who he's become. If this is the next catastrophe that he'll have to weather, then so be it. If he isn't capable of dealing with Joseph by now, then it's likely he never will be — and if that turns out to be the case, he can only hope that Kim is as quick on the trigger as she seemed to be today.

[wizardwomenwisdom]

i don’t actually ship anyone in the big three (best three? pogue three? pjk? idk they need a name) but i had this idea this morning while listening to conan. enjoy.

heather (or, kiara)

JJ wasn’t sure when it started. He’d tell you it was after he watched Kiara and Pope kiss on the dock, after John B left, but the truth was that it’d been going on a lot longer.

It was every longing look in her direction, every whispered conversation that JJ wasn’t part of. It was whenever Kie wore Pope’s sweatshirt to bonfires.

The sweatshirt that Pope insisted not so long ago looked better on JJ.

It was October, and John B.’s 17th birthday almost passed without any acknowledgement. At the last minute, JJ decided they needed to get drunk, so he showed up on Pope’s dock with a case of cheap beer and a bottle of something stronger. He shot Pope a text and told him they’d go pick Kie up.

Only, Kie and Pope came out together.

“JJ!” Kie yelled, bounding down the boardwalk. He steadied himself with one foot on the doc and gave her a big hug. He pulled her into the boat like that, and the boat kicked away from the doc slightly. Pope reached out and pulled in back in with one hand. Then, he and JJ gave each other that sort of asshole hug that they always made fun of, where they high fived and hugged and acted like dip shits.

“Where to?” Kie asked, settling down at the back of the boat.

JJ glanced at Pope. “You didn’t tell her?”

“We’re heading to John B’s for his birthday,” Pope answered. He wouldn’t even look at JJ.

Kie’s face fell, and JJ’s stomach hurt. This whole situation felt so shitty all of the sudden. He tried to convince himself that it was only because John B. should’ve been turning 17, but he knew it wasn’t.

They stayed silent all the way to John B.’s house, and all while JJ built a fire, and all while they passed around the hard stuff. It wasn’t until Kie started singing happy birthday that the silence finally broke. The tension didn’t.

At some point, Kie started shivering and Pope jumped to wrap his arms around her. JJ felt sick.

He tossed a sick into the bonfire.

“God, I miss them,” Kie said quietly.

“Yeah, whatever,” JJ mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“What was that?” She leaned out of Pope’s reach, towards JJ.

“Nothing, forget it.” His tone told everyone that it wasn’t nothing.

“Tell me, JJ.”

Suddenly, he stood up. “You lost, what, Kie, two people of twenty? Thirty? I lost everything.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t miss them.” She stood up too, accepting his challenge.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“The fuck?”

“Where were you when I was cleaning out his house? Or when I called to tell his uncle?”

Kie took a step back and crossed her arms. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it though, Kiara?” JJ shook his head, and turned away from them. “Whatever. Just put the fire out when your done macking.”

JJ had John B.’s key, but it didn’t matter. He almost always left the door unlocked. Pogues didn’t steal from other Pogues, because there was never anything valuable, and Kooks didn’t steal because they didn’t have to. So tonight he just stormed in through the porch, listening to the satisfactory snap when the thin door hit the frame. Without thinking, he headed straight for the kitchen. It was almost always empty, so he could easily lean against the counter and seethe.

After a few minutes, he heard the screen door again, and the familiar creek of the floorboards. Kie, coming to talk about what happened.

“Fuck off,” He snarled, turning to face her. Only, it was Pope who stood in the door way.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked slowly. It was a very “Pope” thing, calm and quiet but still commanding. JJ just stared at him. “Why the hell would you say that?”

The only excuse was the truth, and it was a pretty shitty excuse at that. He took a shaky breath. “Fuck, she’s such a good person,” He said. “But sometimes, sometimes I wish she were dead.”

Pope stepped towards JJ slowly. “You don’t mean that. I really fucking hope you don’t mean that.”

JJ could feel the tears in his eyes, from anger and sadness and this fucking kitchen. Hadn’t he once told John B. they couldn’t leave Kie here?

“She has everything Pope. She has the family and the money and you—“

“Is this because we kissed?” Pope almost laughed, and JJ could tell. He could always tell. And now Pope was right next to him, leaning against the counter too. “That was a one time deal. Look, man, you’re welcome to try for her. I’m sure you’d make her a lot happier—“

“It’s because she could kiss you!” JJ exploded. He stepped in front of Pope, so that they’d almost completely switched places. “It’s because you’re only breaking one rule if you kiss, because you still can go back to being friends and sharing food and fucking around at parties. Because that’s an option for you.”

Pope just stared at him. “JJ, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Fuck, I just I were... I were... Fuck this.”

JJ couldn’t do it anymore. He pressed one hand against the counter next to Pope’s, and the other against Pope’s stomach. And then he kissed him.

To say JJ had dreamed about this moment was an understatement, but now it was real. And this is how it went.

Pope’s lips, a bit hesitant at first and then fluid and working so hard against JJ’s. They were soft, and tasted too much like generic cherry lip balm. Pope’s hands, which searched for a landing place on first JJ’s back, then his shoulders, then in his hair. Pope’s smell, just like the Heyward’s store. Salt water and plain soap and heavy wood and skin.

Kie’s voice.

“Holy fuck,” She said from the doorway. JJ jumped off Pope faster than he’d ever done anything.

“Kiara,” He said shakily. He wiped his lip with the side of his hand. “Fuck. Um, you guys need to leave.”

Pope glanced at him. “What?”

“Get out. Please. Just... Fuck.” The tears from earlier finally spilled. JJ leaned against the counter as sobs racked his body.

Kiara had her arms around him first, pulling his head into her chest like she always did. Her hands ran through his hair, petting it slowly.

Pope came second, his arms going around JJ’s waist and keeping him steady. JJ leaned into the two of them, trying to create the words he needed to say. “I just... I can’t and I want to but my dad and if and fuck.” He was blubbering, but they knew what he meant.

Pope whispered, “JJ, we’re never gonna let that happen.”

“We’re all we have,” Kie added.

That just made him cry harder, because of course John B wasn’t the only thing he had to lose. He had them.

After what seemed like an eternity, they broke apart. JJ shook with the cold and his tears and everything that had just happened.

Pope and Kie looked at each other, and without hesitation, he took off his sweatshirt and held it out to JJ.

It was JJ’s favorite, one from a college that Pope had found and fallen in love with before their ill fated treasure hunt. They found it at the thrift store, barely worn, from some Kook kid who’d failed to fit the bill.

Now, he pulled it on over his head, thankful for the familiar smell and the soft interior.

“You still wear it better,” Pope whispered. And then, much to JJ’s surprise, he pressed a kiss on his forehead. JJ blushed.

“Mmm, not gonna lie,” Kiara said, “But that was little gay you guys.”

The three of them burst out laughing, and for the first time since that day on the dock, JJ didn’t feel so bad anymore.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

Could we ever see a concept from you on how OUAT could have been a better show?

alright, fair warning, I haven’t actually watched the show in a while so my memory might be a little spotty, but off the top of my head-

Don’t kill Neal. He was at the heart of the plot, which started to unravel the second he was gone. Don’t sacrifice a clear plot line you had planned just because the fans really like Captain Hook oh my GOD

Stop having everyone discredit Regina being Henry’s mother just because they don’t like her. OR, have them do that but have Henry defend her. Their relationship was too back and forth and we never had anything to tell us she was a bad mom to him before he found out about the curse...like, if you found out your Nice and Normal Mom was allegedly an evil witch, wouldn’t you...I don’t know....defend her a little? So either commit to having her be a shitty mom and then she has to make up for that, or have Henry fully torn between both sides of his family. NOT the mess we got on the show where she had to earn his trust back because of things she did like 30 years before he was even born

Stop dropping plotlines. I understand they had an issue of actors getting jobs in other franchises, like Sebastian Stan and the guy who ended up in 50 Shades, but either stipulate something in the contract that they need to make time for a certain amount of episodes when you sign them, or just recast the actors. Don’t wait three years before Little Red Riding Hood can pop back up for an arc. Oh my God.

The Peter Pan arc happened way too soon- Neal needed time to build relationships with everyone else, specifically with Henry, his father, and Emma. Think about how it could’ve been if he’d patched things up with Emma quicker and they got in the groove of parenting Henry, only for Regina to still have her reservations about him because of her history with Rumple- only for Henry to then be kidnapped and the three of them have to become and Iconic Parent Trio to get him back. Hello. 

Henry should’ve learned magic way before he became the Author. He is a True Love Baby who’s also related to three extremely powerful magic users and making him the damsel in distress every single season finale got old very fast. How about- after the Peter Pan arc, Rumple starts teaching him magic behind his parents back, because 1) he isn’t sure how they’d feel about it since Tensions 2) with all the shit in this universe Henry definitely needs to know how to defend himself, and 3) AFTER SEEING HIS FATHER ALMOST STEAL HIS GRANDSON THE SAME WAY HE STOLE HIS SON I FEEL LIKE THAT MIGHT HAVE AN EFFECT ON HIM EMOTIONALLY???? They never bothered to develop a real relationship with Henry and Rumple, every now and then he’d be like ‘oh yeah that’s my grandson’ and like...that was it. it was WACK

It also could’ve lead to some low-level comedy drama with David fretting about not being the ‘cool’ grandpa anymore lmao

The whole thing where Emma and Henry got their memories erased for a year while the others got sent back to the Forrest....it literally didn’t make sense for Neal not to go with them I’m still screaming. They literally said the only reason Emma and Henry could escape was because they weren’t effected by the first curse....literally neither was Neal??? Oh my God

So you could’ve had it like...they patched things up faster, and they weren’t back together but they weren’t Not back together, and they had definitely gotten a decent co-parent situation down, so he chooses to stay with them because he doesn’t want to abandon Emma again and he doesn’t want Henry to grow up without his father like he did. The dramatic goodbyes are for their parents and Regina. A year later, Hook choses to warn them about whatevers happening on his own free will, beginning a redemption arc that is NOT tied to Emma. He’s trying to protect the family to make up for what he did to Neal in Neverland

idk how I truly felt about the whole dead/resurrected Rumple situation but if we keep with it, BELLE is the one who resurrects him- and NOT with a spell that will kill her, but with DR. FRAKENSTIEN WHO FUCKING EXISTS ON THE SHOW AND THEY ONLY MENTION HIM ONCE IN A BLUE MOON ARE YOU KIDDING ME THEY DIDN’T USE HIM FOR A RESSURECTION STORY ARC

The whole Frozen arc shouldn’t have happened- I didn’t hate it, Emma and Elsa were sweet, but overall Elsa, Anna, Kristoff and Hans felt very shoehorned in and didn’t really mesh well with the rest of the story. 

I DID however like the whole bit with the Ice Queen trying to adopt Emma when she was younger, and I think they could’ve used that to build onto the dark Emma storyline- the Ice Queen’s prophecy or whatever could’ve been referring to her, Emma and Zelena. That way it’s not Ice Queen trying to convince two powerful light magic users to go dark (and also not two ice power types and one Whatever The Fuck Type Emma Is)- it’s two powerful dark magic users trying to sway one woman who’s still trying to get a grasp on magic. Rather than the whole Dark One nonsense. Henry saves the day using his magic to subdue Ice Queen and Zelena the best he can, and convincing Emma she’s a good person, similar to how Regina chose to stop being dark for Henry. She snaps out of the hold the other two have on her and kicks ass. Hello.

The whole Author plotline was a hot mess but I’m still down for Henry taking over the position, it made sense for the story.

If they absolutely needed to do a new dark one plotline...NEAL. COME THE FUCK ON,

AND THEN HE MANAGES TO SUCCEED WHERE HIS FATHER FAILED WITH IT AND MAYBE THEY MANAGE TO KILL THE DARK ONE SPELL ALTOGETHER. TRUE LOVES KISS WITH EMMA OR HENRY WHO BOTH HAVE INCREDIBLY STRONG LIGHT MAGIC WHICH IS THE OPPOSITE OF THE DARK ONE. HELLO.

Maleficent’s Daughter Lily should’ve...stayed on???? Fully mended her friendship with Emma??? Iconic girl team??? Hello??? 

Belle gets to be an actual character instead of a character so underused that it becomes a running joke on the show that she asserts she’s cable of defending herself and then Doesn’t. Someone please teach this bitch to swordfight or something

It can be part of Hook’s Not-Emma-Related redemption arc maybe- instead of him using and threatening her. Or Neal can do it so they can bond. Or David or Snow decides to be nice it doesn’t actually matter please just make her a capable person I’m screaming

Henry should’ve kept in touch with friends he made in (Tallahassee) Boston for the year he lived there to uhhhh give the kid some concept of a normal reality and experience talking to people his own age. Also it could’ve been a super funny running gag to have a friend face time him and ask him what’s up and Henry’s trying to hide a dragon and magic spells off screen like ‘uh nothing just some family drama’

They needed to stop being so inconsistent about magic- first it was ‘magic can’t work outside of storybrooke’ but then Zelena was like ‘I’m going to magically transform into a different person in the middle of New York’ and ‘Wendy’s Brothers won’t age even though they aren’t in storybrooke’ and then it was like ‘magic can raise Robin and Hook and Rumple from the dead but it absolutely can do nothing for Neal, sorry’ like what the hell...please just some consistency 

Make Snow like....35% less annoying 

Don’t let Emma get lost in the story so much like at some point she really stopped being the main character and it was annoying as hell

that whole thing in one episode where David and Snow saw through a portal to young Emma and David wanted to go through to her but Snow was like ‘no we can’t change her past’ was some PRIME BULLSHIT. We already brought time travel into a fairytale show! nothing matters anymore bitch! let him hug his daughter!

Really thought they could’ve been like...they weren’t allowed to permanently change the past but they could’ve gotten a letter or some shit through to her...come on

alright this is all I got right now but like....genuinely a lot of their mistakes were so easily avoidable. it’s still truly baffling that the show went so downhill. rip

[colawinston]

“ i ain’t no fortunate son, no...”

a/n — hello, hello. I’m here with a little fic for you all, something simple and sweet and maybe a little shitty.

A Sodapop Curtis and vague reader fic for @radiantcade. Idk, I hope you enjoy it :)

we’re also going to totally ignore that hinton said soda dies in vietnam cause fuck that shit

He wasn’t dead, but he might as well have been.

Coming home had been...a hassle almost. Sure, it was better than trekking through miles of hot, shrouded forest, scared shitless and waiting for the next bullet to whiz by or mortar to come sailing through the trees and drop in the midst of them, waiting for the next ambush or false alarm or snap of a branch. Yeah, being home was far better than being stuck in the near ceaseless rain and heat and barrage of casualty, even if it still held its own set of completely different issues. Sodapop couldn’t really bring himself to complain, though. He was grateful he made it home, grateful to be alive, goddamnit. 

It just felt...different. Verging suffocating. He enjoyed the fact he could step off a bus and immediately be near bowled over by his kid brother, arms tight — Lay off the man, Ponyboy, Darry had barked, but there wasn’t any heat behind the words. Lay off my kid brother, Soda chided, just as heatless, though far more playful. He enjoyed the fact he could catch up on his brothers lives, greeted by his old friends and take in what they’d been up to in the last two and a half years he’d been gone.

 Ponyboy had grown up, was damn near as built as Darry by this point, but still the soft mess of a kid he’d been when he’d left. He played football, was set to graduate, go off to college and do something important with himself. Darry still worked on houses, but had found himself a gal, a sweet girl named Joanie, and he was real smitten with her, got bashful when Soda asked if he was gonna pop the question. But he wasn’t the only one. Seemed like everyone had found them someone, Soda had noted. Steve, who’d gone off to college ‘round the time Sodapop left (which had kept him from the shit storm of a draft that Sodapop found himself plucked from), and had himself a pleasant college girl — her face sweet, hair kept neat and her clothes impeccably clean — not someone that Sodapop would have thought would end up with Steve, but life was full of surprises. Two-Bit ended up with Marcia, Randy Adderson’s now ex-gir. Took a ride on the wild side, Two-bit had grinned, tipping back a beer. He looked cleaner — they all did. Weren’t damn near as greasy as they had been, wore new clothes, looked as though they’d really gotten themselves out of a rut. 

But they all still converged in the Curtis home, crowded together around the coffee table smushed in between the arms of that old couch. 

That was all good, felt fine, but the suffocating part was, well, talking about the very large elephant in the room. The war. What he’d seen, what he’d done, just the barrage of questions and unwavering interest in things he’d rather not brag about, talk about, think about. How many of them vietcong did ya kill, Soda? Heard they was sending ladies off for you boys while stationed out there, weren’t they? Get anything good? Still as charming as ever...But he supposed they didn’t quite understand. They knew the horrors, the happenings, what went on, but they didn’t understand. And he’d brushed it off, gave them some bullshit response and smiled and sat back. Conversation had moved away from him and onto something else, and he was left staring at the wall, chest tight and suffocating.

He didn’t sleep well. Hell, he hadn’t slept well in a very long time. Although comfortable, his bed felt foreign. The silence of the house deafening despite the chirp of crickets outside, and every soft creak of the house sending a jolt through Sodapop, his fists clenched in the sheets, eyes locked firmly on the shadowed ceiling. Among the delicate noises of night, he could hear his own heart, occasionally Ponyboy or Darry stirring, a cough or a shuffle down the hall to the bathroom, only for the same shuffle to retreat down the hall and a door to click shut. He didn’t sleep, once bright eyes and crooked grin now a murky pool of green and teeth barely shown, the smile itself barely meeting his eyes. He was plagued, and he hid it.

Which was unlike him, but if he was being honest, it felt wrong to push these things onto his brothers — the two of them had enough to worry about without the extra baggage of something they wouldn’t understand. Maybe Ponyboy would be soft about it, sympathize. He’d gone through his own bit of trauma years back, struggled in his own way afterwards. Soda had helped then, so why wouldn’t he ask now? Was he that much of a coward to admit something was off, something wasn’t right with him. He knew what to expect when he’d gotten home, he’d heard the rumors and the tales of those who’d come home from the second world war. But that couldn’t be him. He did want it to be him. 

But he kept up his image, because being home was nice. He’d gotten a job back at the station, something to keep himself preoccupied. It wasn’t the same as it had been without Steve there, though pretty girls still flocked his way, got him to smile, flirted back and forth. Hippies, mostly. Not that he was particularly interested in them. No, he was still set on a broad he’d been seeing back before was shipped off. One he wasn’t sure if she knew he still existed. Not until she came by the station one day, in one of them fancy new Pontiacs: blood red and loud as hell. She noticed him near immediately, jaw dropped and not a moment of hesitancy before she flung herself around him — a lot like Ponyhad that day he’d stepped off the bus. 

“Sodapop Curtis, I didn’t know you were home!” She had squealed, and pushed him back an arms length, as if to get a good look at him. He gave a bashful smile, averting his gaze and shrugged.

“Haven’t been back too long. Sorry I didn’t write. You back home for a bit?” He’d asked her, keeping the subject off him.

She was a college girl, much like Steve’s pretty blonde girl. Smart as hell and pretty to boot. Her soft features hadn’t changed much, eyes still bright as ever and lips spread into a familiar, comforting grin. She’d smacked her hand against his chest, pushed him slightly. “I am. Why? You wanna take me out sometime? Like you used to?” She asked, bubbly as ever. 

“I just might, if you’re willing,” He grinned right back. The first grin he had since he’d seen his brothers, his old friends. 

And take her out he did. 

Now, the two of them hadn’t ever really been a ‘thing’. They’d been friendly, talked a lot, eventually started gettin’ affectionate but he didn’t think either of them wanted to put a label of things. She hadn’t, having gotten into that new age idea of goofing around, just living her best life, not worried about settling down, just kicking up dust and running on. He thought that way too, or he thought he thought like that. He thought that maybe settling down was a bit of a joke, something for older folks who knew what they wanted, but sometimes it’d felt like he was just....coasting by on the fumes of her own ideals. That he was just jazzed and caught up in the feeling of her fun, her change, her life. Sodapop was always one to get drunk off life, and she gave him that tugging feeling that drag races had, that dancing around did, and he’d soaked up every moment he could get of it, which was why she was settled against him again, pressed into his side in his bed, delicate fingers playing with his own. Darry and Ponyboy weren’t in the house, which was the only reason she’d come over — he’d allowed her over — and things had led to them snuggled up like they used to be. They lay quietly, Sodapop keeping one arm around her and the other bent at his side as she played with his fingers. 

“It fucked you up, didn’t it, Soda?” She eventually broke the silence, voice light as a feather, almost sounding sad. “I can see it, y’know. You don’t smile like you used to,” She reached up to cup his face with one hand, body shifting to be able to get a better look at him. He kept his eyes off her, green-blue gaze locked on the ceiling like it usually was. His body stiffened, hand on his belly curling into a fist. She was the first person to prod him about it, maybe to immediately notice it. Given, he’d kept up his attitude to the best of his abilities and been working, his brothers had been busy with their own things. What was he really supposed to say to her? He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to face the obvious conclusion she’d come to himself. 

But it came out as a soft “Yeah,” His chest rising with a deep sigh, eye flitting to meet hers. “It did.” He admitted, voice thick, low. His throat suddenly felt dry, stung in the way it would as if he were trying to hold himself back from crying. Sodapop held her gaze for what felt like hours, just until her lips pouted and she had her cheek against his bare chest, hand tucking against his body. 

There was another bout of silence, and her soft voice broke through the silence again. “You’re gonna be alright, Sodapop, I promise.” It was firm, knowing. She’d always been like that, positive to a fault almost, but he believed her. She’d always been right about things — about her getting into school, Steve, too, Pony getting on well with some of his new friends back after Johnny and Dally had died, about Darry getting another job when he’d lost the other one. She’d always been right, and he had no reason not to be. 

Stroking a hand over her hair, he gave a short nod, eyes back on the ceiling, his vision blurred. “I’ll be alright.” He agreed. With you, sat on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want to put that on her. She was going back to college soon, would be busy with her friends and forgetting about him until she came home again, so he wasn’t going to pressure her into thinkin’ she needed to care about it. “I’ll be alright,” He repeated. 

[eyeslikefoxglove]

Episode 14 - WangXian are a (v soft) Battle Couple & Foxglove is hella mad

Hi! Welcome to episode 14. I should be studying. It’s day two of morning runs, so my soul has left my body already, send help. Yesterday I went to buy plants with my mum and got so excited I just whacked on a bunch of eyeshadow because I haven’t seen the outside in weeks, I’m also wearing makeup today, because I have nowhere to go, but I really need to finish this bb cream before it goes bad, so my parents are getting my full fresh faced “woke up like this and put on mascara” routine (which is a fucking lie because I’m wearing at least three blushes and two highlighters). I’m determined to get this bitch down in under five minutes so I can have another five to do eyeshadow, I have way too much eyeshadow to not wear it (I have way too much everything except maybe mascara and eyebrow stuff).

Yes, if y’all were wondering I am in fact a makeup magpie. ANYWAY BACK TO THE ACTUAL THING WE ALL CAME HERE FOR.

(Btw further down I discuss once again how shitty I think the Yunmeng sibs’ parents are if that causes an issue for you)

Ok ok ok, so I was talking with damnpoe-2187 here about how we found that sometimes WWX crossed from gremlin into asshole when he tried to get LWJ riled up. Like in the Cold Springs, putting our shippers hearts aside, that was a dick move and he should have stopped undressing the second LWJ went from annoyed to incredibly uncomfortable. I find this scene the complete opposite, a show of character development if you will. It is kind of similar in that they’re both hurt, and alone (although this time is much more serious) and there was some undressing going on; however WWX here behaves like a fool in love considerate person and knowing how uncomfortable LWJ already is tries to make it easier for him. They’re also super soft and I’m weak.

A brief interlude from my one track mind: That pond is full of corpses isn’t it? Or at least the remnants of the Murder Turtle’s meals I suppose. Damn right WWX should not have gone into the water with an open wound, but think no one should go swimming in there without a full hazmat suit tbh (I want to pump them full of antibiotics at this point ngl)

So I love this tiny montage (is it even a montage) of the, getting themselves ready to kill the Murder Turtle.

Teamwooooooork.

Listen, I have read a few fics in which their mind-meld stays in place due to reasons and I need me more of those.

Ok, turtles don’t work that way, but then again, giant murder snake-Trex-turtle so that’s low on my list of priorities. What’s not low is the fact that this guy is knee deep into pretty much a mass grave and I want to take a few showers just watching him.

Yeah, I know exactly what he’s smelling and suddenly I hope I don’t have meat for lunch today tbh.

The screaming sword has always been fucking creepy and does LWJ’s fist clench mean that he’s also hearing them?

BATTLE COUPLE! BATTLE COUPLE! BATTLE COUPLE!

So I know killing the thing took them something like six hours. And while it feels quite a long time in the show, I think that, if they cut the scene with idk, JC running towards Lotus Pier, then back to them, then back to JC, but now the sun is in a different position, back to them, but now the blood from LWJ’s hand has dripped down his arm; and so on a so forth it’d convey more clearly how long it took for the Murder Turtle to die. I know fuck all about cinematography tho so feel free to ignore all this if it is in fact an abomination.

Tiiiiiiny interlude here to say that Yiling Patriarch!WWX is probably one of my favourite character archetypes. He’s slightly creepy, slightly amoral (smiling while torturing and murdering bad guys is still amoral ok), more than a bit on the Dark Side, cocky, smirky, a bit of an asshole a BAMF, a rebel with cause and yet he will still do the right thing, not despite his nature, but because of it. He’s kind of like a Chipped Spike? But you know, he doesn’t need electroshock to behave.

I just want a fic where he’s this Dark Lord of Evil in everyone’s eyes however the ‘good guys’ take a break from trying to off him because a bigger threat just popped up and they have no choice but to ask for his help. He agrees, keeps being his charming self while also saving everyone’s asses, LWJ is smitten.

TL;DR: The Necromancer is hot. Oh and nobody dare deny LWJ has a Yiling Patriarch kink.

Oh my, this is the part when I always get teary eyed.

WUJI ON A CELLO? DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?

“Why hasn’t Jiang Cheng shown up and rescued me yet?” THIS IS ALL THE PROOF I NEED THAT WWX IS THE BABY SIBLING.

“Lan Zhan sing me a song”

IT IS HAPPENING, STAY FUCKING CALM EVERYBODY (I’m crying)

That slideshow of their best moments set to WuJi is a masterpiece, and also, it kind of drives home the point of “how tf did we go from flirting during summer camp to this mess”?

(Btw if that’s YiBo humming he’s got one hell of a deep voice)

Ok ok ok, so this moment had me spitting up my tea the first time I watched it. Believe it or not my dumbass thought these people were actually serious with the censorship and we’d get scraps of their actual relationship. Lots of charged moments like in some other western tv shows I’ve seen when two dudes have chemistry but “they’re not gay”, no longing glances, no tender touches, no being unbelievably soft with each other; just you know, amped up, because if I’m not mistaken you can be arrested in China for “promoting the gay”. I mean, they changed the beginning when people insult MXY’s sexuality to insulting his mental health; no one would think “ah yes, the gays are good” when they hear it used as a slur, but they still erased it completely. One of the things I thought they’d fully take away was WangXian, I mean, the into/outro is named Wuji, which, you know, still a mishmash of their names, but not their ship name. It is such a significant part of the story with all the “what’s the song name? Figure it out yourself” that if something were going to give away that they’re married with a kid it would be that. I thought we’d get an artful fade to black BEFORE LWJ would say the name not after. And also, YiBo is enunciating it so clearly that, even with the sound muffled and the blurriness I, who don’t speak Chinese, can make out the two syllables. That’s deliberate, I can say “WangXian” loud and clear without moving my lips too much. At this point in time I must assume someone in charge of looking for censorship violations in the show is a fan and just ignored it.

Censorship person 1: dude, isn’t that a bit too gay, maybe you shouldn’t greenlight it.

Censorship person 2: shut the fuck up, sit here and watch.

*a full rundown of the whole of CQL later*

Censorship person 1: oh my god they’re so in love and they deserve to be happy.

Back to the commentary: I’m sorry but I have a mighty need of a WWX & Peacock friendship ok? This might be me just wanting WWX and LWJ to make other friends besides each other but I think that the Peacock is just bitchy enough to not take any of WWX’s bullshit.

And the Yunmeng bros timing for banter strikes yet again.

That’s terrible quality fake blood btw.

@ Yunmeng disciples: STOP SHOOTING FUCKING KITES PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Oooof even with a change of clothes our boy is still looking rough as hell.

MY LOVELY YUNMENG SIBS BEING SOFT AND HAPPY WITH EACH OTHER.

It hurts my soul that the second JFM starts praising WWX for surviving the Murder Turtle our boy’s knee-jerk reaction is to start praising JC in return. It is instinctive, how many times must this have happened for him to know his brother won’t even get scraps of praise? (Seriously fuck their parents)

It was going so well, I mean, JFM had a point warning him to not say things in anger. But I thought he was going to tell him that it is because sometimes he’ll hurt someone without wanting to, yet, this asshole decided to, once again, remind his kid he thinks he’s a failure.

And here comes Mme Yu who I can only assume had a servant posted at the door to warn her when WWX woke so she could throw some verbal abuse at him. I mean, she must have been missing it.

And JFM’s misogynistic bullshit strikes once again, because why defend ALL your kids when you can insult your wife.

(Every time someone berates WWX for “intervening” I want to scream. I mean, seeing this I can believe why the society as a whole thought genocide was a good idea.)

I love how they use their kids as props in their fight, I mean it’s not like they have feelings or anything. This woman is gaslight-y as hell too “you don’t love your kid because I gave birth to him”, you can’t tell me saying that in front of the son she’s supposed to love isn’t going to hurt him. And she knows it, I mean, besides the Wen attack I’ve never seen her hit the kids (although I very much doubt she hasn’t), so a good part of the abuse must be verbal. There’s no fucking way a person who regularly uses words that way won’t realise where she’s aiming those arrows. Which means to her (to both) the kids are collateral.

But FR, the barely-out-of-adolescence disaster bi necromancer PTSDing all over the place and living in a mass grave was a better parent than any of the current adults in this thing.

Which brings me to another point, Shijie is textbook “the oldest sibling is just another parent” and I’m making myself very angry.

[this is when I start frothing at the mouth and itching to write a modern-girl(and friends)-dropped-in-CQL because someone has to be a positive adult influence in these kids’ lives and it sure as shit ain’t the ones in the actual show.]

CAN WE STOP BRINGING PEOPLE’S DEAD PARENTS INTO THE FIGHT?

*deep breath*

I am going to feed JFM & Mme Yu each other’s spleens. Look, listen, look and listen, let’s first talk about how calmly they lay out the facts of their lives, one is only loved because he’s been brought up in the shadow of his dead parents, the other knows with certainty his father dislikes him and his mother uses him as leverage in marital disputes. When have these two not exploded their emotions all over the place? Fucking never. Yet here they are, talking about this bullshit like some bout of inconvenient weather. They’re used to it!

And now let’s talk about yet again siblings-are-just-extra-parents, with an added pile of WWX’s terrible self awareness that, to the man who brought him up, his worth is due to his dead parents. Again I’m extrapolating, but with the amount of times Mme Yu brings up his parents in such a negative light I refuse to believe JFM hasn’t made all the “you’re so much like your parents” comments to him every time WWX does something right. I mean, telling an orphan about their parents if they ask is a good thing, but WWX seems starved for stories about his them, which leads me to believe JFM refuses to talk about the topic except to make those little comments. What a fucking stellar way to give someone all the trauma if you ask me. May also explain a lot of WWX’s self worth issues if the biggest praise he’s ever heard is that he resembles dead people, yes, people who were loved, but they’re dead, and it doesn’t look like any adult has bothered to go and differentiate WWX from ZSSR&WCZ.

I’m just really mad, despite all the silly anecdotes I put in here my parents are fucking great at parenting, so I know what good parents should look like, and this ain’t it.

Ok, so I made myself angry and I don’t know if I should move onto the next episode now or wait till tomorrow but thanks for reading!

[feisty-fae]

If you still do the flower ask thingys.. 👉👈 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙜𝙤 :)

HoooH boY hEre we gO-

Alisons: Sexuality?

I sexually identify as a can of beans

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

Cis female she/her

Amaryllis: Birthday?

27 September

Anemone: Favorite flower?

All flowers pretty,, but stargazer lily, rose, dahlia and cherry blossoms

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

I don't watch tv but I'll list some other stuff i like to watch:mha, beastars and aggretsuko

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

Idk depends on scenario??

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

"Kanye West he likes, fingers in his ass."

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

Any Milkshakes or smoothies (mostly banana and strawberry for milkshake and p much anything for smoothie)

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I've never had kith

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

Well you see yes but actually no

Baneberries: Favorite song?

I listen to a lot but to keep it short:baby in the kitchen, in my mouth and friends slowed (chase atlantic)

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

We p chill fam

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

Irl bestie,, shes not on tumblr lol

Begonia: Favorite color?

PinKKK

But i like most colours

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

Cats,,,,

FoxES,

ANYTHING CUDDLY AND CUTE

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

Night

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

I'd be like a doggo bc it would be the most fun i think-

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a vet but then when my granny asked me "but whos gonna clean up the animal poop?" I was like "eWW pO0pP!" and then decided that mayb i shouldn't be a vet

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

They're either really kind and sweet

Or literal demons from hell

Legit no inbetween

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

I'm afraid of lot of things-

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

I was one dumbass bitcg-

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?

Idk eat pizza and cry or smth ajakamkw

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

Single

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

NEW YORKKK, CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFF THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN'T DO NOW YOU'RE IN NEW YOOORKKK

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

When someone hugs me or just generally spends time with me

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

Nop

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?

I used to have piercings when i was a bab but eHh haven't worn them since and i dont think my ear holes are big enough now-

California Poppy: Height?

4'10 grrr I'm the omega midget and I'll devour ur ankles

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

Nop

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?

Pant, pink top and black hoodie

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

I think i have??

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?

My mom and my dad

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

I never kith

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

I dont have one so imma say sans bc it always looks out of place and makes me laugh-

Columbine: Are you tired?

No

I feel like screaming and jumping around my room like a crackhead

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

Nothing in particular ig

Coneflower: Dream job?

Smth kinda fun and art or design related hopefully,,,,

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert but i also get lonley easily

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?

Nop,,,,

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

I would get run over by 5 monster trucks, jump off a plane, get mauled by 10 bears, get trampled on by a stampede, get brutally tortured for 12 hours straight, yeet myself into the Grand Canyon and then break all my bones with my bare hands if they weren't broken already

Ok basically i care a lot

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

I had this st bernard plush called Sparky and this lion named Sammy,,

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Libra

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

My memory is legit so bad it's probably concerning uHHH

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

Mayb art??

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?

Ehhh i might reason with them and then if they still disagreed I'd just keep the relationship a secret

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

My parents

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

Ehhh arT

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

EhhHh everything that isn't art-

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

Oh boy here comes my shitty memory-

Hmmm

Idk but I'm mostly happy that I've been more social and stuff and i feel like im kinda coming out of my shell a bit

Not sure what to say for other 2 bc nothing in particular has really happend?

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

Ehhh oK??

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

Mayhapsn't

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

I hope to pass all my exams and get an okish job mayb

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

1.fRIENBS ILY MY HABIBIS

2. Fammm

3. eHhh yummy food,,

4. Drawing and uhhh art

5. EPIC MUTUALS

6. Ok idk what else aside from like serious stuff like house and etc.-

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

Drawing, crying, venting to a friend/parent

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

Hugssss,kith,cuddle, *draws u stuff*

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

MmmmmMy aRRt?

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

Wake up

Don't go to school

Vibe with friends

Sleeb

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?

MmMmMM aRT-

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

Ehh 8yrs? We met in hell school

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

Friendos

Mom

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

6..?? Aa idk theres some people that idk if they'd consider me a friend or not,,

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Idk any compliment is best compliment for me,,

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

Ew yucky gröss

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

m y a r t

Also my hair bc its soft and wavy,,

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?

Everything else-

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

Climb trees and do dumb shit

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

Same irl bestie i mentioned before

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

MmmmmmMMM,,,

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?

MMMmMMmMMMMmmmMMm,,,,,,

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

Well I chose Fae bc i thought it sounded pretty

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Idk what to rlly say lmao

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

Kinda the same but i had toys everywhere-

Also when i was like 5 i had this legit fucking cursed thomas the tank engine shaped bed that i actually found a pic of but it's FUCKING HORRIFYING SO I PROBS WONT SHOW HERE-

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?

EW BEING A TEENAGER SUCKS ASS HOW DO I UNDO????

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Hi mom ily ur epic

Onions: Tell about your dad.

Hi dad ily ur epic

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

Omg i miss my grannies sm bc i couldn't see em this year bc nasty pandemic

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

Haha shit memory gor brrRR-

I don't really remember too many specific parties but when i was like 7-10 i had these epic parties in those birthday places with the giant play areas

I kinda wish i wasn't too old to go to them sobs

Peony: What was your first job?

I haven't had a job yet

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

Hmmmm idk? I haven't really thought abt that but i don't really mind i just wanna find someone to vibe with,,

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

I cri

Pink: Where is home?

Home is home home

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

Now where do i start...

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

I look up to people that are kind, caring, brave, funny, cool or stronger than me ig?

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Basically my current life minus school, stress,pandemic and responsibilities lmao

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

I used to believe in ghosts after i thought i encountered one

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

Hermmmst

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

Peoples laughsss also music

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

Bro i dont have one,, my aphantasia makes it hard for me to remember stuff-

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

A

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?

I wantttt better chargersss thattt donttt telll meee thatt myyy tablett will finishh chargingg innn 1 dayy andd 7 hoursss

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

Kinda difficult but im opening up more

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

fRIENDS,,,,,wAh

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

8 hrs

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

Idk ig i kinda have to go to school and do stuff

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

Non existant

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

My black and white stripy top, and all my hoodiess

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.

I don't think i have just one aesthetic bc im drawn to so many different aesthetics at the same time-

Like vintage, neon, dark, spoopy, pastel, cute, etc etc

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

OMG I LEGIT JUST SCREAM AT ANYTHING ANYONE GIVES ME-

IF SOMEONE GOES OUT OF THEIR WAY TO MAKE ME SMTH I CRY,,

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

🤏

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

I haven't been reading anythinggg

But i should really finish reading Percy Jackson bc it do be picking up dust-

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Everywhere

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

Mmm yummy 👅

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

I am currently living and breathing yes