#ladder scene definitely

[gayandreadytosin]

I give you The Plot of Hannibal

Everyone (referring to will graham) -"I can fix him"

Hannibal- "imma make him worse then fuck him"

[paperlovesadness]

ooh, guys. So I think I just noticed a fun coincidence 👀

- Who's Mr. Schwartz? (...)

- I don't know. It feels like there's maybe this sort of a... Some sort of production going on in the background the whole time through this record. There's like... Someone's like... Setting up some lights and carrying a ladder and I don't know... And it feels like he's a... He's got something to do with that.

[Alex & Zane Lowe's interview for Apple music]

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

[forever-rogue]

It's a Lifestyle

AN | Hello, its me! Back from the dead for my favorite time of the year. It's just a sweet little scene with Eddie and his angel and their love of Halloween! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie looked forward to coming home every day. So much. Like so much. 

Because he always knew that you'd be there, excited to see him, even if it hadn't been that long since you'd last seen each other.

He parked his truck in the driveway of the small house that now belonged to the two of you.

A very own home for you both.

He noted your car in the driveway as well, but when he came inside the house, you weren't there to greet him. He took off his boots and set them by the door, reaching down to pet Pickles as she wound herself around his legs. The small black cat purred loudly before giving him one final rub and heading over to the window to sit on the ledge and stare outside. People and animal watching had become a favorite pastime of hers.

"Angel?” he called out, wondering where you had managed to disappear too. He poked around downstairs but found nothing but the delicious smell of fresh brownies. It was like you'd known that he had been craving them. You definitely made the best brownies…not that he was biased or anything.

When you didn't answer him, he climbed up the stairs, assuming you were in the bedroom or office or…somewhere. Hopefully.

As he got to the top of the stairs, the floor squeaked slightly. That alone was enough to alert you to his presence, “Eddie?”

He followed the sound of your voice down the hall and around the corner, finding the stairs to the attic pulled down, “its just me. What're you doing up there?”

“Hi my love,” your pretty face appeared and made him smile, “I'm just going through some boxes to find the Halloween Decorations! I know I have some from the years past-”

“It's not even September yet,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. He was trying not to laugh, but it was all in good fun.

“Halloween is a year round tradition, Edward!” You beckoned for him to come up the stairs, “its not my fault that my year round decor just happens to be Halloween appropriate. Halloween is a lifestyle.”

“I thought it was a holiday?” He started to make the short climb, quickly standing up next to you. He gently took your face in his hands, beaming at you.

“It's a lifestyle,” you repeated, putting your hands on his forearms, smiling back at him, “hi.”

“Hi,” he leaned and kissed you softly, pulling away much sooner than you would have liked, but you knew you'd get plenty more later, “Halloween being a lifestyle choice makes sense considering your skull collection.”

“It is an impressive skull collection,” you mused before kissing him again. When he had first met you he was surprised to find that you collected all sorts of different replica skulls. You didn't give off the vibe immediately but he found that they did suit you, “wanna help me decorate, handsome?”

“For you? Anything,” he agreed, heart swelling at the pure joy on your face, “you want to decorate now? We'll decorate now.”

“And maybe go shopping for some new decorations?”

“Sure baby,” he promised, “you never decorated our old apartment much.”

“It was small,” you shrugged softly, “and that only felt like a home because of you. But this is our home now, one we worked hard for. And there's no one else I'd rather be here with. Now we have the freedom and ability to make it our own, however we want.”

“Yeah,” fondness colored his voice as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you,” you threw your arms around him and gave him a cuddly, tender embrace, “now, my love, will you help me bring the boxes downstairs?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed dramatically before immediately getting ready to bring everything down the ladder. You could have asked him for the moon and stars and would have gotten them for you, “I hope you know I'm only being nice because you made brownies.”

“I knew I made them for a reason,” you grinned at him, “you're not a hard sell, Eddie Munson.”

“You're lucky I love you!”

“I love you lots and lots,” you promised, moving the first box towards him so he could bring it down, “and then some!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I'm not sure about this,” Eddie frowned at the coffee currently nestled in your hand, eyebrows almost disappearing into his dark curls, “why do you want a drink that tastes like pumpkin?”

He was, meanwhile and as usual, holding a cup of hot, black coffee. You grinned and shrugged your shoulders before talking a long sip, “because it's delicious and the right amount of sweet and spicy. Besides, it doesn't taste like pumpkin, it's the spices. Try it.”

“What if I die?” He scoffed dramatically before taking the cup of your hand taking a tentative sip. You watched his face go through several emotions before he finally swallowed.

“It's good, huh?” You knew him well enough by now to know when he liked something. He mumbled something under his breath before handing the coffee back to you, “and you didn't die.”

“It's…acceptable,” he tried to play it off but you could see him struggle to hold his laugh back. He quickly grabbed it again and took another sip, “I wouldn't try it again.”

“Whatever,” you kissed his cheek before taking your coffee back and looping your arm through his, walking him in the direction of the home goods store you'd dragged him to. Not that he was really complaining - he loved Halloween too after all, “you don't have to admit I'm right.”

“You wish,” he rolled his eyes dramatically, eyes widening when he noticed all the Halloween items in the shop’s window display, “wow. That's so much Halloween…and it's still so early in the season.”

“That's how it is nowadays,” you shrugged, “but it's to my advantage!”

“What exactly is that you're looking for?”

You moved to step in front of him, looking ridiculously cute in your sweater and scarf and boots, all bundled up to stay warm, “we are looking for whatever speaks to us. You gotta feel it in your gut.”

He couldn't help but laugh as you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his, “whatever you say, angel.”

“We don't have to do this,” you whispered softly, “if you don't want to, I don't want to make you do this, or to make you feel obligated-”

“I want to do this,” he promised, “I love spending time with you, whatever we do.”

“Me too,” you relaxed, smiling shyly at your boyfriend. You reached over and tucked a rogue curl that had escaped from his bun behind his ear, “c'mon on then! Oh - you get to pick what we do next. Wanna go to Guitar Center maybe?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded. He knew that you weren't a music nerd like him, but you always listened intently when he spoke about it, often getting very passionate. You always supported him and his music and he couldn't ask for more.

 “Hell yeah.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That afternoon you spent several hours walking around and looking for the perfect Halloween and fall decor for the house. It was, admittedly, a lot more fun than Eddie could have imagined.

Plus, the two of you had gone to Guitar Center afterwards. Which hadn't hurt. You always felt like you were lost when Eddie got really into talking about music, but you loved how passionate he was about music…everything really.

The only thing that was left to do was to get pumpkins for the front porch and maybe some pie. But that you wanted to do closer to actual Halloween so the pumpkins wouldn't rot. Although Eddie had insisted that would look metal as fuck. 

The two of you had decided to make it a date day and by the time the two of you were heading home it was later into the evening.  Eddie was driving your car, one hand on the wheel and the other one was holding yours.

Music was playing quietly as the two of you talked about anything and everything that crossed your mind. After a while, a content silence fell over the two of you as you stared out the window at the passing scenery.

“What're you thinking about, angel?” He quickly turned his head to look at you, his face illuminated by the passing street lights.

“Nothing,” you felt your cheeks warm up, and keep your eyes turned from his. he squeezed your hand and you knew better than to think he would leave it alone. That wasn't his style at all. You turned your head to face him, squinting your eyes before sighing, “Alright, its something. But it's silly and you're going to laugh.”

“I wouldn't laugh,” he insisted as you raised an eyebrow at him, “fine, I won't laugh unless it's very laugh worthy.”

“You're such an ass,” but you were laughing now, the sound full of adoration and affection, “I was just thinking about how much I love this.”

“This?”

“Us,” you watched a smile tug up the corners of his mouth, “I love being with you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he turned the street to your house, effortlessly pulling into the driveway and parking the car. You unbuckled your seat belt and turned to him, looking at him sweetly, “what? You're looking at me all funny.”

“I'm not looking at you funny,” you leaned over the center console and traced your fingers gently along his jaw, “I just really love you.”

“And…? I know there's something else you're not saying,” he took your chin in his hand and tilted your face up towards him, “out with it angel.”

“It's just that,” you bit your lip, sucking in a slow breath, “I can't wait to marry you one day. I mean. I know this is all real, that what we have is real. But I also can't wait to call you my husband one day. It's like an added little bonus.”

“Oh,” his pale cheeks turned bright pink as he tried to control his excitement. At first you were worried that he wasn't going to share the same sentiment but any worry that popped up quickly disappeared, “I can't wait for that either. I can't wait to call you my wife one day.”

“And you'll be my husband,” you whispered as he nodded eagerly, “you want to marry me too?”

“Of course I do,” he admitted shyly, “and I'm going to propose. You'll just have to wait and see when that is. It'll happen but you'll never know when.”

“Until it happens…”

“Until it happens,” he agreed. Eddie held out his hands and motioned for you to shuffle over the center console, “c'mere.”

“We're in the car!”

“Don't care,” he insisted, helping you over and onto his lap, “just wanna be close to you.”

“Even better,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to your lips so you could kiss him. He sighed softly against your lips, his warm and sweet smell overwhelming you in the best ways possible, “I love you so much, Eddie. Thank you for always dealing with me and my shenanigans.”

“I've never dealing with you,” he nudged his nose against yours, “I love every bit of you. Plus I also enjoy all of your so called shenanigans. We just have…adventures. Silly ones, but good ones. and I happen to love Halloween as much as you. It's a win-win for me.”

“For both of us,” you pressed your forehead against his, “do you wanna go inside and put up some of the stuff we got?”

“Yes,” he agreed eagerly, “but I want to enjoy some more of you first.”

“What…oh,” you grinned, “I would very much like that.”

“Let's go then,” he opened the door and gently helped you out of the car, “no time to waste, m'lady.”

“You're such a dork!”

“So are you,” he countered, “but I love you regardless.”

“And I love you, Eddie."

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Fall in Love in A Night

James Potter x Black!Reader

Say You Won't Let Go James Arthur

Masterlist

Summary: College AU, Muggle AU, James falls in love with the some of the worst parts of you, his best friends sister }

Wc- 3529

Cw: FIRST DRAFT - Not proof read- Use of {Y/N}, sexual themes and scenes, cussing, Sirius is kinda a butt and broken hearted, Amos Diggory slander, Pandalily, insecurities}

One party, one night. You promised your friends when you went to the Gryffindor dormitories past curfew, this was a one party, one night, thing. 

You never really drank, you never really partied, you never really “had any fun,” Marlene would mock you. In all fairness, your oldest brother partied enough for the both of you. He would usually blow his top at the idea of you drinking in the lion's den, surrounded by bold and cocky red scarves. But he was at home, spending time with Remus.

The only reason you came, however, was because Lily promised to be by you the whole night. That, and well, your most recent break up. You would do anything to get the absolute arse that was Amos Diggory out of your mind.

You didn't know why you trusted that, because the moment she saw Pandora she was in another universe. Following the blonde around and hanging on her every word. It would be cute if she didn't abandon you five shots in. 

Well, you had other people to entertain you at least. You had spent the better half of your night sobering up enough to listen to Arthur Weasley, a teacher's assistant, explain an admittedly simple muggle board game, going off the two girls that had since abandoned them at the table.

You didn't want to kill his vibe, but Molly Prewett was most definitely flirting with him all night, and he seemed too enraptured with the cardboard on his lap then what could have been there instead. Again, it was none of your business, and you were just happy the hardass was having fun. 

They were so painfully obvious about it. Molly had asked him to reexplain things several times, batting her eyelashes at the fool, and he was none the wiser as he explained it. He was too patient and dumb for your liking. Still, he extended the same courtesy to you, who was equal parts frustrated and amused. 

“So.. it's called Shoots and Ladders?" You mumbled, for the fourth time tonight, leaning your cheek against your palm and looking up at him with ever dwindling hope that he would say something even a little interesting. Anything to not look completely awkward and alone.

You knew he liked his muggle arts, but genuinely, it was not that fascinating. Shoots go down and Ladders go up as they tend to do. How enrapturing.

"Arthur, would you like to dance?" You asked and Arthur smiled at you, toothy and shy, “I uhm.. yeah, yeah, I'd like to dance.” 

“Good. Because Prewett has been staring for over an hour waiting for you to ask her.” You gestured across the room and the older boy looked over. Instantly making eye contact with Molly who looked away quickly. It finally seemed to click for him and he wet his lip, standing up.

“Has she been-”

“All night.”

“Truly?”

“Do you really think that game is that interesting?” You mused and then slowly smirked. “Don't answer that.”

“I am a moron.” He muttered with puffed up cheeks and you threw your head back with a low groan. He hurried after Molly who was now playing coy. Alone, again. At least your friends were having fun.

Your eyes scanned the room and they locked on a familiar figure. Damn it. 

You quickly began to stand and gather your purse, before he walked up to stand beside you. It could be seen as friendly, but he was right between you and any viable exit from your seat. You closed your eyes and gave a small sigh before looking up at him. “Diggory? Excuse me, I was just heading home.” You huffed.

“Woah woah, what's the rush?” He smiled in his usual sickeningly sweet drawl. You rolled your eyes as he leaned his arm on the back of your chair. Even as drunk as you were, the smell of alcohol on his breath turned your stomach in an unpleasant way. “Come on, you've hardly even touched the dance floor. Why not one more dance? I'll leave you be, swear it.”

You stared at his offered hand and for a moment truly thought about it. Were you drunk enough for this? 

"Diggory, I don't think that's-" Before you could finish with her puffed up cheeks, someone cleared their throat. 

"Hey! {Y/N}, right?" A voice cut in. You and Diggory looked over to see no one other than James Potter. Now, you knew him, you knew him from the several heart breaking attempts at trying to win over your dearest friend Lily Evans. Now, you hadn't seen him in quite a while, after Lily finally broke and told him she liked girls. You felt horrible at the look of absolute mortification when he realized she was not, indeed, playing hard to get. She just truly wasn't interested in him. You still saw him on occasion, seeing as his best friend was your brother. Not that you were allowed near your brother’s friends, he had threatened them with violence unknown if they tried anything, even being near you was a crime in his eyes.

Which begs the question, why was he suddenly here? “{Y/N} Black? I hope you remember me.” He cheeked and you couldn't help but smile a bit. Why was he so nervous? You've talked before. Must be the impending Black Wrath. And who could possibly forget the James Potter?

You glanced up and looked between Diggory and him for a moment before you popped your tongue and leaned back. "Yeah, of course I do." You tried to joke, coming out a bit slurred. Wow. You don't realize how strong fire whiskey was. You attempted to stand up again and this time Diggory relented and let you pass. You stood in front of James, and he rubbed the back of his neck. His face was flushed and his words were stammered, he must have been just as drunk. 

"It's nice to meet-" He seemed to pause and he looked startled at his own slip up. “N-not that I don't know you, well, you know me. I hope- I hope you know me. Well, you said you know me, just-”

You held your hand up and he stared at you with wide eyes and flustered cheeks so dark you were sure he would pass out. He seemed both thankful and distressed that you stopped him. You were doing your best to hide a cheeky smile. “Rewind.”

“How far?” He whispered.

“Hm.. as funny as most of that was, let's start back at, ‘of course I do’.” You smirked this time and he seemed to sigh in relief.

“Thank Merlin.” He mumbled and clenched his chest. You laughed.

“That's not my name.” You mused and leaned a bit closer. You had to admit, he was cute. Very cute.

He gave a laugh at this and shook his head. Turning to look behind you before his tense shoulders relaxed. “There we go. He's gone.” James muttered and you turned to look back and saw Amos trailing off to go talk to some other girl. You shrugged it off, you were busy now.

“Are you alright? He seemed a bit..”

“Pushy? Yeah. He's.. he's interesting.” You sighed and straightened your back a bit. You were surprised when your brother nearly hexed him on the spot when he found out you two were seeing each other. Now? You understood completely. 

He was a rake. Flirted with anything with legs and called you delusional when you spoke up about it. Well, you can't exactly hide walking in on him and Rita Skeeter in his dorm room. You don't know what you were more mad about, catching them in bed together or seeing Rita Skeeter naked.

“Yeah, he's.. a piece of work.” He mumbled and you shrugged it off, his eyes drifting back to you and locking.

You stared at him for a moment and slowly tilted your head. He looked like he was building confidence for something. You could see a million different thoughts in his head as his eyes searched yours.

“James-”

“At risk of humiliating myself further,” He muttered quickly, and offered you his hand. You stared at it bewildered before you looked back up at him. “Would you like to dance?”

Your eyes searched his for some ulterior motive. What was the sudden change for? James never paid particular attention to you but the way he was looking at you right now.. 

Now, these parties ended in one of two things, a hookup or a make out session. At least, that's what your brother always told you. Amos didn't show you any different, and coming here, if you said yes to James you had a small nagging feeling that was where this was headed.

“.. Why not, Potter?” You smiled and took his hand. He gave a look, smiling so wide his dimples caved into a fold. Merlin he was really really cute.

~~~

You couldn't lie, you were having the time of your life. Dancing and twirling on the floor with James, you two had a bit of a rhythm, dancing off beat at times as you got so wrapped up in your own ridiculous little worlds. Taking shots and practically joint at the hips all night.

As it went on you got more comfortable. The space between you was shrinking, and his hands slipped from your waist to your hips. You both were practically grinding on each other at points, neither of you daring to step back. It felt warm. Everything was warm. His hands, his breath, his body. You felt like fire, and you wanted so much more.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the break up, maybe it was the fact that you knew it would piss off your brother, but you tugged James out of the party and into the halls, instantly your body was cooled by the night wind slipping in from the windows.

Out in the hall you pulled James down into a kiss. It felt like sparks were set off on your skin. He grabbed your hips and walked you back into a wall, both of you were both far too absorbed in one another to even think. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You had snogged before, of course you had, but his large hands all over you, his lips on yours, bruising the skin, as he commanded the kiss, the way he held you so secure, you about died. 

You broke away slowly, tugging him closer towards a broom closet not too far away from where you stood. He gave a chuckle and shook his head, your drunken mind could only pout. He quickly took your cheeks and kissed you again, stifling any whines before he broke the kiss and smiled sweetly at you. "I'm not taking a girl like you in a broom closet." He smirked, you opened your mouth to protest before he quickly interrupted. "Especially," He dragged out every syllable, "While you're drunk, darling. Let's get you home, yeah?" He asked and you melted into his hands, still pouting but giving in.

James stared at you for a moment before he began to lead you down the steps in front of the campus dorms. 

The wind was sharp and cold on your burning skin, worse than inside. You swayed as you stepped, James didn't hesitate to grab your waist and help you down the stairs. Out of the rare coherent thoughts you had; you were just glad you didn't wear heels. 

A part of you felt bad, for being such a mess and having James Potter, your brother's best friend, a guy you personally hardly knew, taking care of you. But with his hand around your waist so secure you couldn't bring yourself to think twice about it. Your head lulled back and you smiled at him. You knew you must look a sight, sweaty, bug eyed, your eyelids kept sagging and your baby hairs clung to your skin through the sweat. 

You knew you didn't look pleasant at least. Your eyes slowly shut and let out a hum, whining as James pulled away, losing his warmth when he did, only to melt as his jacket covered your shoulders. Eyes slowly opening to look up at his blurry figure.

He gave you a smile when he knew you couldn't see, it was gentle and it was affectionate. You both began to walk. You didn't know where, too wasted to even remember James didn't know where your dorms were. He had his arm around your waist and kept you still, not planning on moving anytime soon as you let him take on your weight, the liquor making it harder to think straight. You staggered and stumbled but he was always there to keep his grip on you. Always catching you. You could almost forget he was wasted too.

You felt humiliated and embarrassed when your mind grew sober. You spent the night trying your absolute hardest to forget your ex and now you were making James pick up the pieces. You dance the night away with your brother's best friend, and he wouldn't even have you. Now, you were forcing him to take you home because they were both far too drunk to drive and she was too stupid to call her brother for a ride. 

The thoughts spun in your head and you felt bile raising in your throat. You gagged and covered your mouth, quickly stumbling out of his arms to the grass of the park you were stumbling past. Kneeling over some bushes and vomiting with some very unpleasant sounds. You slowly fell to your knees and resisted the urge to sob.

It was official, you hated tonight. All of it. You began to throw up more, and you felt his hands comb your hair back to gather it up, one of his other hands rubbing your back. Your stomach churned painfully and you let out the sobs you held back. You always forget how much this part hurts.

Merlin what the fuck was wrong with you? Your brother was right, you shouldn't be dating until you're at least 100. Hopefully James is too drunk to be crossed with you. You slowly looked back at him with your pout and tried to wipe off your face, he produced a packet of napkins from his pocket and began to try and clean your lip. Fucking hell- now he was babying you.

Your wobbling eyes looked up at him and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes held something you hadn't seen before.

He was smiling, clearly still tipsy himself, hiccuping into his palm. You were stunned to see how fond his smile was. "You're bloody breathtaking. Do you know that?." He whispered to you and slowly pulled you into his chest despite your protests of how nasty you must have looked. 

He curled his leg forward and let you lean your full weight on it. He rubbed your back as you laid rag dolled against him. He let you collect yourself. 

It was getting colder, and later, but neither of you seemed to even think about the weather, the people passing by, the street lights turning off. You both just stared at each other before beginning to devolve into a fit of giggles. He grabbed your cheeks and began to pepper your face with kisses. You scrunched up your nose and laughed, quickly returning a few of your own. "How'd I get so lucky?" He mumbled and you were once again floored by his response.

"I-" You began to let your tears fall down your face, trying to dry them quickly, not wanting him to fuss over you anymore then he already was. Once again, this enigma of a man slowly cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss. You didn't even think to protest considering the acid in your throat that still lingered. He didn't seem to care.

James Potter was a mystery. People talked about his kindness, his big heart, his utter stupidity. You were sure all of those things were true. Who kisses a drunk girl in the middle of a busy city sidewalk? On the grass as if she was the only person alive?

You were sure he had no shame.

The truth was, he didn't. James was fucked. He fell, and he fell hard. He knew he liked you for a while. You were probably one of the only people who looked at him like that. Like you wanted more of him. Like you wanted to know him. Sirius never noticed his little crush, thank Merlin. James thought it was gone, he focused on obtainable girls, but bloody hell here he was. With this studious and quiet girl, always looked her best, always sassy and calm, smart but never flashed it about. You were the opposite of him, he never thought it would work.

When he first saw you interact with Amos, he knew he wanted you. when he was told he cheated, he never felt so much bubbling anger. Even Sirius noticed, but James managed to play it off as just another quorum of his big heart. Dating his best friend's sister was nothing maintainable. Even as he had to watch you date absolute losers, watch them get what he wanted more than anything. Even then, it was always just a crush. Something he couldn't be too consumed over.

But now? You were the most bare, raw human to him, exposing every part of yourself intentionally or not, and he didn't know his heart could clench so hard. He didn't know a crush could turn to love only took two hours. 

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home." He whispered and stood up, helping you up as well and you got back to walking. 

It was a long and peaceful walk, it was charming, tumbling over each other and laughing most of the way there. You could feel it, something changing in your chest. Looking up at him and noticing his chiseled jaw and handsome features, his dark clear face sent you into a daze, and when you saw his charming hazel eyes you were done for. You could easily forget this was James Potter.

Yeah. For you, it took four years of being love blind, three months to get over it, and, of course two hours to fall in love. You kept staring at each other as he walked you up to the door. Biting your lip as he knocked on the door. You fiddled with your skirt. "Do you think they are up?"

"Mhm.. doubt they've done much sleeping.." You mumbled and slowly looked back up at him. When did you get so shy? You bit his lip at the discovery he never looked away. 

"... please tell me we'll talk again." His voice was low and sweet. But he sounded so desperate. "Even if it's just a hello in the halls."

"I promise." You whispered so quickly you almost interrupted his next declaration. Not even noticing as the door opened.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

You stared up at him with parted lips and wide eyes. James looked like a nervous, flustered mess. Absolutely wrecked. It took one walk. One walk and you ruined him. 

“I-”

“Absolutely fucking not!” Sirius shouted and grabbed you by your arm, yanking you into the apartment. 

James paled and stared at Sirius like a deer in headlights. Sirius looked ready to kill.

“Sirius-”

“You,” He pointed at James’ chest sharply as your brother practically shoved you at Remus who gave you a sympathetic look. “I'm not going to warn you again. Stay the fuck away from my sister, mate.”

With that, he slammed the door in James' face. 

James stared at the door, still trying to gather himself. He hadn't even realized he said that out loud. He was frozen. What were you going to say? Would you call him crazy? Reject him? Make a fool of him? You just.. you never seemed so shy before.

His heart was a mess but the final nail in the coffin. He could hear your voice on the other side of the door. Growing closer. Like you were fighting to get there.

The door suddenly jerked open and your eyes widened as you saw him still standing there.

He was startled, still far too much heat to his head, frying his brains.

“I-I fancy you, Potter!” You declared and you watched in slow motion as his clueless look slowly lit up into. Bright dazzling smile. 

“James, please, for the love of Merlin call me James.” He pleaded and you gave him the same dazzling drunk smile.

“Jamie.” You cooed, James was a goner, and Sirius finally managed to slam the door closed, much to both of your disappointment.

This time, James had the sense to leave. He did not want to be here when Sirius snapped.

He, still tipsy, reached for his pockets as he walked back towards the campus, and he threw his head back with a laugh. 

His bloody keys were in his jacket pocket.

[eggyrocks]

THE MANEATER CHAPTER THREE: von dutch

masterlist

divider credits to roseraris

Iwaizumi shakes. The ladder beneath him rattles. He looks down, and glares.

She has one arm hooked loosely around the ladder, looking like she's given up on holding it steady in favor of scrolling mindlessly through her phone. And he gets that feeling he always gets when he looks at her. His blood gets hotter, and it rushes through him faster.

"What are you doing?" he barks down at her, hands still above his head, halted in their task of replacing the lights above the DJ booth.

She doesn't look up from her phone. "Trying to Google if you'd die from this height if I knocked you over."

"You're not funny," he tells her.

"You're not my target audience."

He locks his jaw. "Can you just hold the goddamn ladder? I'm doing you a favor, brat."

And she groans, as if this is some big inconvenience for her, making a big show out of pocketing her phone and gripping the sides of the ladder with both hands. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. Iwaizumi swallows. "There, are you happy?"

He doesn't respond, just turns his attention back to the lights above his head, and is grateful for the silence.

Even if it lasts for just a second.

"Your friends are coming to see me tonight," she says from below him, tapping the tips of her nails against the metal of the ladder. "I think they like me more than you."

"If you shut up while I'm up here, I'll give you twenty-five-hundred yen," Iwaizumi tells her through his concentration.

She sighs. "I couldn't accept money from you. I know you need it to buy your six-hundred identical black compression shirts and your daily dose of creatine supplements.”

"Is there no one else here that can do this? Like it has to be you?" Iwaizumi snaps down.

"Unfortunately for you protein powder, I'm the only other one here this early," she tells him, leaning up against the ladder in a way that makes it rock slightly. He jolts. "Takes a lot of prep work to hit the shuffle button."

Iwaizumi smirks, and takes a moment to look down at her. "That one really got to you, huh? Insecure about your career choice?"

She scowls up at him. "I don't think you have room to be talking, new hire club bouncer whose name I can't remember."

He shakes his head, and returns his gaze back up. "You know my name."

She doesn't say anything in response. Iwaizumi can't see her, but he's sure she's rolling her eyes.

When the lights are fixed and replace, Iwaizumi removes his hands from the ceiling, steadying himself against the ladder. She moves away without prompting and crosses her arms over her chest. "There. Your stupid light's fixed."

"Thank you, sir valiant," she snarks, and now she's definitely rolling her eyes. "You can put the ladder back where you found it."

Inexplicably, Iwiazumi feels smug.

extras!

full credit & thank you’s to @causenessus and @wyrcan who brainstormed the ladder scene they are smart and funny and the best and they have 1000% inspired me to write this chapter & i would not have come up with that scene without them <3 (ily guys simmering)

last time bokuto drank too many vodka redbulls he stayed over the apartment and threw up all over the couch

omi didn’t come out of his room for three days

bokuto LOOOVESSS party rock anthem cannon u can’t take that away from me

yn has been calling iwa “protein powder” in her head ever since she saw him order it in coffee

she has not once never called him or referred to him by his name and he has not done that to her either

mattsun has no interest in hooking up with yn

taglist: @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @guitarstringed-scars @nbcvs @garfieldissocool @iheartpinky @mollyrolls @yogurtkags @yuminako @michivrse @19calicos @sunnyskiezzzz @bailey-reeds @staileykout @kitskasoboring @loverlunaire @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @alpha-mommy69 @acowboykisser @karasyuu @aquariarose @torkorpse @wave2mia @southernfrogprincesd @mfcherry @19calicos @adorerinn @soulfullystarry @jaynawayna

[ebisul]

Its the weird hannigram ladder scene but codywan!! Also i accidentally made obi wan hot? So i definitely have to draw more hannigram codywan again at some point

Unfiltered vers. Under cut

[kasugayamaisforlovers]

Experimental thought for my MotA gurlies: So I'm rewatching MotA to get a better handle on Gale and what's hitting me on the second time around is how human John feels versus how mythologized and illusive Gale feels? 

Exhibit A: You're Bucky and he's Buck?

We as an audience are introduced to Gale in episode 1 via the recitation of the Buck(ies) lore by Marge. And yeah, sure, John and Gale jump in to add color around the edges but tonally it’s a far cry from how anyone else in the show is introduced and, while John is intro’d the same lore, we come to know John with an intimacy that unravels any notions of manicured or whitewashed anything. We never really get this for Gale. 

Exhibit B: No Engine Cleven.

So before the fight between Curt and the RAF guy in episode 2 Curt’s regaling (pun intended) the homies with the story of Walla Walla wherein Gale buzzes the control tower with 3 of his 4 engines feathered. Now it's pretty clear from the dialogue that Gale's still got a functional engine, but Curt's telling the story and he insists on changing the details so that Gale's got no engines. 

The boys drink to ‘No Engine Cleven’--the myth.

Flashcut to the end of episode 3 and Gale's fort has taken a gnarly beating. By the time he gets in view of the runway in Algeria he has to feather all 4 engines. And he fucking does it: he manages to land sans engine power! He glides the crew to a safe landing, as if foretold. The No Engine Cleven prophesy made real.

So much of Gale feels like mythology, it's all stories and tidbits other characters seem to know on faith: Gale’s not a sports guy, Gale's an excellent pilot, Gale is Buck. And to be fair on each of these points we do get a little bit of bonus content. (Gale tells John about his dad which we come to understand is the crux of his sports dislike. We see Gale fly and know from his continued  survival and other characters' reactions that he's good. See exhibit 1 visa vis ‘Buck’.) 

Exhibit C: the deference.

Ok so bonk me with the rubber mallet if this is a reach but like the deference that characters (other than John) show Gale also makes it feel like Gale's something special/held apart. Like yes, I do get he's both hierarchically above a lot of the other characters and simultaneously one of the more central characters. We don't see a whole lot of interactions between characters and like Jack Kidd or Chick Harding to really compare how folks are acting towards Gale vs someone else higher up the ladder. But listen

Let’s take Croz as our test example as Croz interacts with Jack and Gale.  When Croz interacts with Jack he's definitely in a subordinate role. There's a scene wherein he recommends Bubbles for desk work and a later scene wherein Croz has inherited said desk work and is nervous about whether he's a good fit. Both times he approaches Jack with respect and the deference of a subordinate but there's nothing more to it. Jack’s a guy and Croz is a guy and so Croz feels like he can talk to Jack.

Take that in comparison to the first time Croz and Bubbles meet John and Gale. Croz and Bubbles want to pin a US map with the locations of the various crew members’ hometowns. There's a shyness in Croz’s behavior here that I think goes beyond ‘you guys are Majors’ and more toward ‘omg the popular kids. The dudes that set the tone for everyone else' there's a sort of starstruckedness to the interaction. (Help I can't think of another time he talks to Gale.)

My point is, the other boys talk to Gale and John like they're the big dogs. The Buckies occupy a space that’s nearer the men than command (Jack, Chick, etc) but higher than say a different crew member, or even other pilots (say Brady or Dye). But whereas we get some real interiority on John we never get to really dig in on Gale and it leaves Gale feeling like a marble statue. (Dare I say like a John Waynian archetype of masculine stoicism and competency and controlled violence? Is that too far?)  Like a mythical hero at least.

[lowkeyrobin]

Trevor Spengler meeting a ghost his age that is stuck as a ghost because they doesn’t remember their surname or how they died or where they used to live? Like all the ‘important info’ from their memories is gone? Headcanons or one shot? Maybe he was called to “evict” them from a residence and took them home to try to help them?

oh em gee YESSS YESYESYES I love the gbfandom cause yall r so creative ; also this sounds very familiar to frozen empire LMAO ; dw melody kinda slayed ; phoebe is definitely gay idc ; reader knows how they died but not much else, but dw it's for the plot. it's alright let me go by summerdrive is literally the final part of this lol ; also this is super long compared to my other works. I think its good though lol

TREVOR SPENGLER ; lost soul

summary ; youre a lost ghost with no way around the new way of life you'd found yourself in, and trevor is intrigued by you, and decides to try and help you out

warnings ; language, talk about car crashes/death due to car accidents

disclaimers ; set post-frozen empire, me not knowing wtf mannhattan looks like. there's a hilly kind of area near lincoln park bc I said so

word count ; 2.4k

masterlist

The day progressed as usual for Trevor. Wake up, eat, chill out, wait for someone to call, go bust ghosts, come home, eat, sleep and then repeat it all again. Currently, stage five was in progress.

He sits behind Gary in the driver's seat, Phoebe at his side, and his mom in clear view in the front passenger seat. There was no speeding or heavy fight scene, just a calm drive out to a house just outside the main city.

Someone had called in a ghost, I mean, more like a haunting in Trevor's eyes. Nothing was being destroyed, but a very, very apparent ghost had spent the past week sobbing in the attic and banging on the walls.

As he lays eyes on them, he's mesmerized. Their aura is a light blue, contrasting the dark green, brown, and black hues surrounding the attic. They were like a match in the dark. He was attracted to them like a moth to a flame.

He stands on one side of the attic entrance, them on the other. He had to basically turn around to see them on the opposite side of the attic.

He awkwardly and shyly waves, seeing them look back at him, their face contorted to one of discomfort and shock. Tears drip down their cheeks and down onto their neck, scratches and bruises covering their opaque arms, legs and face. A light flickering movement trails down their arms and onto their shoulders and neck, resembling fire.

"Who are you?" They ask, a harsh tone in their voice. Their hands are balled into fists, hanging at their sides.

"Uh, my name's Trevor" He says, showing his empty hands for you, to get some sense that he wasn't here to hurt you. "I'm a Ghostbuster, we got a call that you've been banging walls and stuff..."

They look at him up and down, still thinking this Trevor guy wasn't very trustworthy.

"I just wanna help, okay? What does it take to get you somewhere safer and away from this house?" He asks.

They shrug, unable to hold eye contact. "I don't know why I'm here. I don't know how I'm supposed to move on, I just wanna see my dad again"

Trevor's face quickly morphs into one of solem, feeling the same way as you right now. "I can try and help you move on" He suggests, "Do you know how you... died?"

"Car accident" You answer.

His eyes slightly widened for a moment before answering. "Would you like to come with me? So we can help you move on? We have a lab not to far away, we can try and help you find your way to continue on"

Phoebe, who'd been listening in from downstairs, having been holding the ladder before, speaks up. "We can help you break the fabric and space in time!"

They slightly jump back a bit, not having known that Trevor had guests.

"That's my sister!" He quickly explains, shooting a glare down the ladder towards her. "It's okay, we aren't here to hurt you."

They step forward a bit, the two separated by the hole in the attic floor. They peek down at Phoebe, who gives them a little wave and smile. They look back up at Trevor, who gives them a reassuring yet unsure look, silently urging them to come with him.

"Fine. But not to be experimented on. I just want to see my dad again, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's okay!"

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Forty-four days that the lonely ghost had been staying at a lab where the somberly walked around, trying to remember anything other than their death. What were they meant to do?

They and Trevor had grown close, though.

He'd been working with them one-on-one nearly everyday, trying to figure out who they were, when they died, where they died. They'd grown accustomed to this talk, having it not make them grow sad or angry anymore. They became numb to it, they just wanted to move on.

Trevor made their time here worth it though. He understood them more than anyone else. They wouldn't even work with Lars or Lucky if he wasn't around. Lars would scold them and reinform that if they didn't cooperate that it would only take longer, but they didn't mind at this point. They'd like to stay and hang out with Trevor some more.

The same ripped jeans and sweatshirt they wore when they passed never grew any more deteriorated than it already was, strings and rips never mending themselves. They were still comfortable though, physically and mentally. That last day they spent with their father, they didn't know much about it, but their insides grew warm when they thought about or tried to remember it.

Hours and hours of work was rewarded with Trevor taking them out on a walk through the city and showing them the sights. They enjoyed it quite a lot, and didn't mind any stares or looks, just enjoying the time they were able to spend with the boy.

On one of these walks, Trevor brought up some good news. "I think we found your case, Y/n"

They look over at him, an eyebrow raised.

"We found the newspaper caption of the day after you died, it all matches up." He explains, pulling out his phone to show you a picture. "Car flips over gaurd rail near Lincoln Park, one dead, one in critical condition"

They nod, looking back up at Trevor. "I'm guessing I'm the one who died?"

He nods. "In the article it says your name, and your dad's" He hands the phone over to them, pointing the location as they zoom in.

"Y/n L/n" They whisper. "L/n"

He slows down the pace, seeing the look of pain in their eyes.

"What about my dad? Did he die too?"

He nervously shrugs, not having a definitive answer. They nod, handing the phone back.

"That's a great lead though, we can find out where he is. And maybe that can help us get you into the next realm, or whatever it is" Trevor speaks with reassurance. "I will get you there, I swear that on my life, okay?"

The two stand in front of each other on the empty sidewalk, surrounded by trees and cars passing by. He looks up at them, truth behind his dark eyes.

They chew at the inside of their cheek with a nod, wishing they could just hug him right now.

"Can we go visit where...." They speak softly, trying to ask a bit of a heavy question. That question should've been heavy for them, not him of all people.

He nods with a little smile, planning to go after they went out to eat, or, he did. Ghosts of their kind thankfully didn't need food, just being floating spirits trying to find their escape.

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The dusk had turned to night, the sun having set not long ago, the streets lit up by lights and the moon. The walk towards the crash site was silent while Y/n looked over the newspaper pictures a few times.

2021. That wasn't that long ago, yet it seemed like an eternity.

They approach the dented gaurd rail, right where the car must've flipped. Trevor hangs back, putting his phone back in his pocket after they gave it back. They look down the hill, seeing scraps of metal and tire rubber still laying at the bottom.

Their heart sank as they saw it.

Pieces of the scrap were clearly melted or burned, same with a few trees around the area, the bark charred black from whatever fire must've occurred. That had to have explained the fire on their arms, though they never remembered a fire. They must've died on impact.

Trev stands a few feet away, keeping quiet as he sees them just stare into nothing. Maybe they were recollecting memories or maybe their death or anything else in their life was coming back to them. He didn't want to disturb.

They look at the gaurd rail, sunken down to the ground. Some blood splatters still painted the backside, a little pool of blood staining the concrete.

They, with a smooth pace, walk back to Trevor, holding back tears.

"I want to find my dad. I want to know if he lived or not" They speak, pointing down at the blood. "Please, Trevor. I can't wait around any longer."

He nods. He nearly opens his arms for a hug but stops himself, remembering that he couldn't make physical contact with him.

"I'll come down to the lab tomorrow morning and we'll get to work, okay?"

"Okay"

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The sounds of clicks and keyboard taps echo through the lab. Trevor sits in front of the computer, typing all sorts of variations of their father's name and the city, date, etc into the Google search bar. Y/n stands behind him, watching with caution.

Thank God for True People Search.

F/n L/n, Age 55 - Lives in Manhattan, NY (917)-123-4567.

"Holy shit" The two whisper in unison. They both lightly smile, quickly getting back to the mission at hand.

Trevor clicks on the website, instantly greeted by a picture of Y/n's father. Underneath was his full name, age, date of birth, phone number, and city and state of current residence. Below was more info, like his current address, past and current phone numbers, email addresses, possible relatives, etcetera.

The second person below the possible relatives was a familiar name and age. Y/n L/n, age 17.

"Holy shit, that's you" Trevor states, moving the mouse towards the name. "He's- He's not dead"

They're silent now, staring down at the computer screen.

"What the fuck? I spent all these years thinking he was dead!" They say, slowly backing away from the computer and Trevor, hands on their head as they try and not freak out. "What the hell?"

Trevor quickly stands up, proposing an idea. "What if we call him, and get him to come here and see you?"

They're quiet for a moment.

"I'm scared"

"I'll be right here"

Silence.

"I think this is what will make you be able to move on, Y/n"

They're quiet again, then they nod slowly, taking a little deep breath.

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Y/n sits in the chair Trevor was sitting in before, leg bouncing like crazy due to nerves. The curly haired boy, who thankfully grew out his hair some, was speaking words of reassurance to them. It was already four in the afternoon, the days passing on and blending into each other for poor Y/n.

They couldn't even remember how many days ago it was that The Possessor scared the shit out of them with a chair.

Finally, there's a knock on the door, which Trevoe quickly walks over to answer. They felt like they were going to vomit, if they even could.

"Y/n?"

They quickly look up, hearing the familiar voice calling their name. They'd never felt or heard something so familiar that it instantly warmed up their heart.

Their father stands in the doorway, Trevor in front of him as he walks toward them.

The man walks with a limp, carrying his 200 pound body down the hallway. A bushy beard covered the bottom half of his face, grey hairs peaking out between it. He wore a baseball cap, hiding whatever grey hairs he had up there as well.

Y/n quickly stands up, laying eyes on their father after all this time. They felt their whole core begin to burn as they saw him again.

"Dad?"

He smiles, opening his arms. "Y/n"

They quickly run to him, then almost through him, forgetting they were a ghost. They wrap their arms around him, knowing the couldn't make physical contact. He does the same, arms stiffly heald around each other.

"I missed you so much" They cry, looking up at him. "I thought you died"

The two pull their arms away from each other. Trevor watches a few feet away with a smile.

The older man smiles somberly, "I almost did, Y/n/n"

"Are you okay?" They quickly ask, looking at him up and down.

He sighs and shrugs, "I don't think there's been a day where I've been okay without you"

The burning only became worse, nearly hurting them. They didn't know if it was good or bad but you wanted to enjoy this.

"I love you, Dad"

"I love you too. I'm sorry I failed you" He speaks, tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry for everything"

"It's okay" They lightly smile with a chuckle, the action performed by their surprise, shock and happiness of the situation. "I'm okay. Trevor has been helping me try to find you"

He looks back at Trevor who gives him a warm smile and nod, then back to them. They were beginning the process to fade away. Tiny, microscopic pieces of them began drifting away like leaves against the wind. They look down at themselves, feeling the fading and numbing sensation.

Their father nods, seeing the look of 'I need to speak to Trevor' and 'I love you' mixed in their eyes.

They quickly walk over to Trevor, wrapping their arms around him, still stiffly holding them over his shoulders.

"Thank you, so much. I can't thank you enough, Trev"

He smiles, wrapping his arms around them. "Thank you for trusting me, Y/n/n"

They can feel their body trembling, feeling themselves fade into nothing. They hear and feel Trevor crying a bit, trying to hide it.

"Hey, it's alright, I'll be okay" They chuckle, seeing the boy wipe his tears away as they're no longer halfway-hugging.

"I know" He nods, "Have fun moving on"

They lightly smile, and look back at their father. They hold onto whatever memories they had with both him and Trevor, waving goodbye to both of them as they fade into the oxygen around them.

Y/n's father wipes his tears, looking at Trevor now that they're completely gone, for good this time.

"Thank you for bringing me back to my child. Even if it was only for a moment. I can't find the words to express how much I thank you for that"

Trevor nods, "It's okay. Thank you for bringing such a kind soul into the world, Mr. L/n"

"You can call me F/n, son"

[holy-puckslibrary]

just a lil firefighter!sid fluff for y'all :)

gif from @ehghtysevenarchive + per this ask and others

Surely, the chief of Canada's oldest fire department has more important things to do on a crisp morning, the last one preceding a fresh week, than this. He most definitely does. And, yes, Chief Crosby is known for his pragmatic approach to, well, everything.

But neither carries weight here—not when she calls.

Leaky faucet, dead car battery, unreachable spider... It doesn't matter. One ring, and he's rushing home. He can't pin-point when the pattern began, likely sometime shortly between the day you moved into town and his first off-day, but it's a routine he's come to enjoy despite the extra strain on both his schedule and his body; Sidney never thought sharing a property line could be so tedious or time-consuming.

He knows he shouldn't enjoy the distraction as much as he does. You aren't together, Sidney doesn't ever allow his imagination wander that far, but he can't help it. He can't help but help. He rarely turns down anyone in need, which has done wonders for his reputation within the community, but with you... With you, it's different, and embarrassingly so.

He doesn't have the words to explain it. Not that he needs to, it's written plainly across his face.

There's a reason you're regular fixtures in the town's gossip column.

When he arrives on scene—not ten minutes after his F-Series crawled down the gravel drive—Sidney shakes his head and laughs. Collecting his cell and his radio, he slips out of the truck, watching as you fret like a mother hen.

Still in your slippers, you're stood at the base of a decently-sized red spruce wedged between his yard and yours, your crumpled face angled up into the yellow-green needles. You're the very picture of worry, wringing your trembling hands and muttering to yourself.

A stray kitten caught in a tree, that's what's got you in a such a state.

"Well, this is a new one," he bellows in lieu of a greeting, slamming the door shut as his boots hit the ground.

Briefly, your glassy eyes dart in his direction. You're midway through your customary apology when he arrives at your side and quiets you, just as he always does.

"They're more than capable of holding down the fort for however long it takes to rescue our new friend, okay?"

"I know, but what if—"

"But nothing," Sidney huffs, and he dares to take you by the shoulders. And, externally, he ignores the way you shiver under his palms. "If I didn't think it was safe for me to step out for a couple of minutes, I wouldn't. You believe me, right?"

You nod, bottom lip pinched between your teeth.

"Good. Now, how 'bout you keep an ear on this," Sidney sets the clunky satellite radio in your hand, "—and I'll grab the ladder from the shed?"

He doesn't really need your help monitoring the channel, but he knows you'll feel better if you feel like you're doing something. Like him, you find comfort in your utility.

In less than a minute, Sidney re-emerges, rounding the corner with a ladder in hand. You're in the same spot, now fidgeting with the radio, anxiously dumping it from one palm to the other and back again. He follows your gaze to line up the simple equipment necessary for the rescue operation.

Sidney's heart swells as you quietly step forward to spot him.

Lucky for everyone, the ball of orange fur is on the branch nearest to the ground. Sidney needs only to step up onto the first wrung to safetly coax the frightened creature into his waiting hands, he's back on the ground not long after.

He gives the kitten a gentle parting scratch under the chin, then transfers the purring fluff to you. The soft bundle takes to you immediately, nuzzling into your chest like that's where it wanted to be all along.

"I think he likes you," Sidney observes with a cheek-numbing grin.

Your lips are tipped up at the end and there's fan of happiness rooting itself around your eyes. Your mouth opens to reply, but before the words come—

"Well, would you look at this?"

Across the quiet street and a few houses to the left sits an audience of two. Both of which are now cooing as loudly as two ladies in their sixties can manage. Coffee cups in one hand and their cellphones propped up in the other, they fawn over the two of you as if it's live theater.

Sidney curses their sons, who he'd completed the explorer program with as teens, for enabling this technological torture.

"Smile, you two! Oh, Denise is just going to eat this up," one of them, a spitfire in a 4'11 frame by the name of Mrs. Bouchard, exclaims to her co-conspirator, Ms. Johnston.

Then, to no one's surprise and Sid's chagrin, they giddily type out their respective messages to the local paper's equally-nosy editor-in-chief.

"Looks like we're front-page news again," you hum bashfully.

The tabby mewls in your arms. You curl into the little bundle of fur, lips landing between its delicate ears.

Sid studies you in his periphery as he slips in and out of heady contemplation, ultimately deciding he doesn't mind as much as he once did. "That we are..."

—

eek! wait, why do i luv them already 🥹

as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!

READ MORE OF THEM HERE!

[nonclassyparty]

sweet and right and merciful (c.s)

summary:

(A STARRING ROLE SPIN-OFF) Choi San deals with the mortifying ordeal of falling in love.

playlist (tba) // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine

notes; i bet you thought you'd seen the last of both me and sr!san well you're wrong! tell me if you want to be added to the taglist

snippet;

As he didn't have a disgustingly large amount of generational wealth to back him up nor parents who dabbled in political meddling and occasional blackmail like some of his peers, San always knew that he would have to fight tooth and nail for his spot in the world.

This would seem fairly overdramatic if all he was seeking out of life was a stable job and paid bills, of course: he was, after all, the son of a middle school teacher and a man that had several jobs which he never did right because hey, they never had much so San should've been satisfied with anything. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how one would look at it), Choi San was too ambitious for his own good. Having been born and raised in the small town of Namhae which was nothing more than an old supermarket some (nobody under the age of fifty) considered a shopping mall and a small beach - the moment he left for college, he swore that he'd never be back there again for nothing more but the holidays. And simply leaving Namhae wasn't enough, no, you see San's goal was money, more money than he would ever need. Bitterness could be considered a man's biggest motivator to get something done and spending his childhood and early adolescence watching his mother work day and night to make sure the bills are paid just for no money to be left spare sure did make San bitter. Call him shallow and materialistic but to San, money most definitely could buy some happiness.

And so, with that thought in mind (placed by no-one else but himself) since the tender age of twelve when he first visited Seoul for a football game and saw what exactly he's been missing out on living in Namhae, San poured everything he had into his studies until he landed a scholarship for Seoul National University in the field of Electrical Engineering. He had been strategic in his choice of career. Electrical engineering required just enough work and brains for it to be considered a lucrative degree and used just enough engineering principles to keep him interested in the job.

And San was excellent at his job. He was quick and efficient, precise and absolutely never wrong. Getting hired to work at one of South Korea's most renowned automobile manufacturing companies not long after he got his degree didn't come as a surprise to no-one. He was competent. The problem with competence and climbing the business ladder though was that it was rewarded with increasingly complex projects almost every month.

And so, our opening scene: A Thursday morning, sometime in January. Amidst the white cubicles on the third floor of Zenith Motor Company, Mr. Kim was doling out new projects to his top engineers with a vengeance.

"Jung, this ones for you," He smacks Jaehyun over the head with the folder before dropping it unceremoniously on his desk, "And try not to get doughnut smudges all over this one."

"Byun, you're continuing the testing from last month." Jaebum nods his head, eyes barely moving from the computer screen in front of him. Mr. Kim continues with an eye roll, "Lim, new model that needs surveillance."

He continues down the room throwing down casefiles as he goes until he stops by San's desk with a smile, "Choi, since you did so well on the Genesis project I'll let you choose." 

"What are my options?" San asks, leaning back in his chair as two files are thrown onto his desk.

Mr. Kim looks down onto his clipboard. "Mr. Jinyoung needs help with the 3D design for-"

Mr. Jinyoung is one of San's bosses.

"-the new model that we're ready to turn in for production. You could send him an e-mail but I wouldn't, he's a bit...difficult to be around these days."

Mr. Jinyoung is also the husband of one Son Danbi, the thirty-four year old woman that San got...very familiar with for a groundbreaking six times at his apartment before he learned that Danbi is a bit too clingy and his job actually might be at stake if she keeps calling the office asking for San instead of her husband. Three times in a row.

She didn't handle San deciding it's best to stop seeing each other very well.

Getting fired for sleeping with his boss' wife and probably getting his nose broken (for the second time over a woman) when his boss' wife inevitably has a meltdown and exposes how San fucked her into his mattress six times once San refuses to meet up with her out of newfound respect for the man she's married to (read: he's scared that he'll get sacked) or literally anything else. The choice was quite obvious.

"I'll take the second option." San quips with ease as he flips over the folder.

"Research and development for a new model! I was hoping you'd pick that one and am not disappointed, you never back down from a challenge." Mr. Kim comments with a grin that San returns because he's been kissing his ass too long to stop now. "You're working with another engineer from the second floor."

San nods and, as Mr. Kim keeps going down to the next cubicle, his eyes sweep over the file and stop at the bottom of the page where one out of two people tasked has already signed their name. In neat handwriting;

Y/L Y/N

He bites back a groan, eyes falling shut and he can hear the Head of the office keep rattling off assignments somewhere in the background.

Nothing registers because suddenly, San remembers honey skin, judging eyes and a sharp tongue and wonders if getting his nose broken a second time right before getting fired by Mr. Jinyoung and losing his entire career would've been the wiser option.

[demodraws0606]

Nico didn't try to kill Ace + The attempted murderer of Ace influenced the murder of Arei

I'm actually surprised I haven't heard people talk about this but I'm predicting it right here, Nico didn't actually try to kill Ace. Which then leads into another theory that somehow the person who attempted to kill Ace either influenced the murder of Arei or killed Arei themselves.

First let's get on the scene of the crime, meaning how Ace was meant to be murdered VS how he catch Nico "in the act"

We see there is three major things that hints as to how Ace was meant to be murdered.

The string used for cutting Ace's throat

The small ladder in the middle of the room

And the fallen fan

Now if all Nico did was knock Ace out and cut his throat with the string, why is fan knocked down ?? And why is there a ladder ???

I think you can get what I mean here, I think Ace was knocked out had the string wrapped around his throat and was hanging from the ceilling fan (sound familiar ?).

That would explain every single piece of evidence here with the exception of the broom

Now let's look at how we catch Nico "in the act". They're holding the string that was used to strangle Ace, meaning it could be very possible that Nico was actually removing the string from Ace's throat.

It also would explain the stool, although the murderer could've used, Nico could've used it as well it get Ace down.

However two questions :

Why did Ace immediatly assume it was Nico : Because he's Ace and I wouldn't be surprised if he just assumed it was the case. Nico also certainly did not help their case with their threat against Ace.

Why did Nico admit to doing it : It could be for two reason. One he could be covering up for someone else (likely Hu) or it could be a situation were Nico just doesn't feel like he can defend himself (it also doesn't help that he's constantly interrupted).

Now another reason why I believe this whole thing to be the case, is also because of....the hidden quotes in the DRDT cast bios. Which might be cheap but I think it heavily hints at Nico not having actually tried to kill Ace.

Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made

It does say mistakes pural but I think it still makes sense, it's possible that this quote relays on the unfairness that Nico feels having to own up for the attempted murder of Ace aka owning up for a mistake someone else made.

I don't have like definitive 100 pourcent evidence that Nico didn't do it but I think the crime scene is way too strange for it to have just been Nico killing Ace.

Now why the second half of this theory ?

Well first I think two people getting hanged would hint at probably the same murderer but on a more serious...it would explain how Arei didn't struggle.

In fact you could also say this but comparing the expressions of Ace and Arei in their death (bit of a long shot but still interesting to note)

Does this mean the culprit is 100 pourcent the same, maybe not, maybe the culprit of the attempted murder helped the murderer of Arei afterwards.

But it is something interesting to point out, especially since I doubt the attempted murder of Ace would just be useful because of the tape.

[echos-gal]

ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

[4pfsukuna]

Hellooo, lowk imagine a jealous sukuna x reader fic where he bottles his true feelings for her. That leads to an argument which then leads to reader storming out and meeting w/ her friends to have them dress up as a guy and pretend their her new hook up or smth 😭😭

Debrief: Sukuna would rather die than talk about feelings but you do that thing (exist) that he likes and he cant help himself (crash out)

4868 words.

If someone asked Sukuna how he felt about you he’d say you were just best friends. He’d actually talk so much shit that it could be the fic itself.

But if you were to ask anyone else how they think he felt about you? The majority answer would be ‘down bad’ followed by ‘obsessed’ followed by ‘unhinged’.

Gojo mutters something about pussy whipped.

“And they were roommates” you finish off before placing the cherry red lollipop back in your mouth as you lift the opposite arm to touch the ceiling. Yes the ceiling someway somehow you had convinced the pink haired brute to carry you around on his shoulders something about wanting to know what it fealt like to be his height.

“You're such a nosy brat y’know?” He keeps walking around, switch in hand looking so tiny since his palms are so huge. He was playing the sims and just put one with pink hair and no tattoos in the pool and took the ladder out. You lean down with your pink dyed hair covering his view wobbling slightly but he's quick to steady you.

Before you can retaliate his brothers Choso and Yuji are walking into his apartment not phased at all by the scene except Yuki, chosos girlfriend who definitely is shocked.

You greet them all while Sukuna glares at them not wanting to hear anything not even see the knowing smirks on their face.

The second time they walk in on the two of you your head is in sukunas lap your body elongated on the couch as you scold him for being mean to some of his employees at the tattoo shop. Hes barely listening though your slender fingers tracing his tattoos especially the ones on his bare chest. 

These were the perks of best friend privileges, you could do absolutely anything you wanted to him and hed just let you. Hed glare at you with that look of annoyance and call you a brat but he did that when he was happy too so you brush it off as nothing more than his default. 

He would never admit it but he likes when you dote on hin like this, likes that youre bossy and commanding you never ask him to do anything you tell him. For someone half his size you surely do think you have alot of power of him(you do). He likes the way your body feels against him too because to you the Y in Your space was silent not that he minded your excuse being hes so huge and takes up so much space.

The curves on your body drove him wild especially when you placed himself in his lap, your plush ass sitting right on his dick and if he even looked down he’d have a perfect view of your breast that’s always on display in the low cut shirts you wore.

“Are you even listening?” Your voice pulls his attention as you give him a slight glare, hand wrapping around his bicep… well the part your hand could fit around.

“No” he smirks the clouded over look in his maroon eyes fading as he looks down at you watching you huff and slowly sit up. “Why should i” he challenges loving the way you never back down.

“Because im your bestie for the restie and im always right” you arrogantly scoff climbing into his lap smiling at the eye roll he gives you, the fourth one today by the way, as an arm wraps around your waist to steady you.

“Shut up ‘bestie for the restie’ yuck” he mocks in a high pitched voice always making fun of you for saying stuff like that. He hated it, it was so girly and childish and stupid and he absolutely did not want to be your bestie.

“You actually bullied me into the silly little friendship” he reminds you the day you pranced into his shop bragging about the great colorwork of tattoos you did on all skintones and he couldnt deny your talent. Nor your friendship apparently.

“A woman half your size bullied you? The great lord sukuna. The masochist. The most muscular man in all of japan got bullied by a girl who doesnt use the top shelf in her home because shes to short to reach it” you gasp rhetorically leaning closer and closer making him hang off every word as if you were talking about something else. Its so innocent yet seductive all at the same time.

“Maybe i let the little pup thinks she is for my own amusement” he teases back with a smirk knowing it would get under your skin. Provoking you to get you riled up was one of his favorite pastimes. 

“I will fuck you up” you snap with a vicious glare  angrily sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. His skin burns at the sight remembering the drunk night at the club a few weeks ago and the kiss you shared when you sunk your teeth into his lip. Oh you couldve asked him for his soul and he wouldve told you its already yours.  The next day though you just brushed it off before pestering him about it being so cold in the shop and demanding his hoodie.

“I would love to see you try” his smirk never leaving his face leaning closer to challenge you. Before your mouth can open in retaliation your phone chirps with 5 back to back text and your attention is gone from him.

“Oh its ‘toru” you smile… a bit to widely for his liking before getting lost in your phone.

“What the fuck is a Toru” he sneers unable to keep his jealousy at bay, because who in the actual fuck was toru and why were you smiling at your phone like that.

“Satoru Gojo” you shrug as if you hadnt just named a man that was so famous for gettin around he was known for sleeping with men and women and nobody batted an eye because they were just waiting on their chance.

“And you call him Toru?” He tries to stay calm digs his nails into his palms and digs his heels into the floor.

“Yes sukuna” you hiss not sure why he was asking such a redundant question. You hated being questioned this is actually where you and him were similar you were going to do what you wanted and when you didnt need anybody questioning you or being nosy. You had fucked up though nicknaming another man and reffering to him as just sukuna instead of kuna or even kirby that you called him from time to time.

“Get off me” he snaps and your head snaps up from the phone to his eyes that are actively avoiding you. Well who pissed in his onigiri? What was with the sudden change in attitude.

“Are you actually dumb enough to let that little fuckboy—“ he starts raging, not caring what words come out of his mouth until its to late and he sees the pure rage in your eyes.

“Dumb?!” You snap climbing off his lap and taking a step back from him. While you may seem soft and sweet like a cute little yapper there was a dark very vicious side to you that it seemed he could only trigger and once it was out it was like two fires colliding to see who could burn the most.

“When did you even have the time to meet this fucking idiot” he scowls hating Satoru and maybe he shouldve told you about their rivalry and that he actually knew the man but that would require good communication skills which is obviously something a man whos been crushing on you for nearly a year lacks.

“Maybe if you didnt spend so much time being a grumpy scowling asshole youd make friends too” you snap at him and he nearly has to bite his tongue he didnt give a fuck about friends when he had two annoying brothers, a pain in the ass Toji, Uraume and most importantly you.

“Who needs ‘em when i have you to pester me all fucking day” he snaps and he really didnt mean it so before he can say anything else he turns around to walk away only for you to keep going. You knew he never meant it when he said stuff like that it was part of your banter but this time you were furious and how dare he turn his back on you.

“And now you wont have to worry about me ever again” you snap shoving him on your way out making sure to slam the white door as hard as you could.

“Dont slam my fucking door” you hear his deep voice boom through the walls. So rightfully so you storm back to open it and slam it even harder. You hear “fucking brat” but refuse to not give him the satisfaction because realistically what the fuck was he going to do.

“Hey Y/n, what are you doing at the shop so late?” Yuji ask making Choso, Yuki and Toji look at you along with Maki who cuts the tattoo gun off pausing on her client.

“You being here this late only means one thing: you got a shipment of new tattoo ink or you and your little pink haired boyfriend are arguing…” she smirks, turning the gun back on. “And unless the mail started delivering on sundays id say the later”

“Its not my fault hes such an ass… and hes not my boyfriend” you cross your arms sitting at your station tinkering with all of the trinkets on your desk until you spot a 2x4 cutout of you and Sukuna from a photobooth you found at the movie theatres. Yanking it from its place on the mirror you lay it picture side down ignoring the little scribbles on the back.

So frustrated you tell them about the argument as theatrically as possible expecting for them to be on your side because he was wrong… as usual whenever you two argued which isnt often until recently but when you only receive snickers and hidden looks it only pushes you further into frustration.

“What is so funny, Maki?” You scowl at her crossing your arms over your chest before Choso burst out laughing.

“You two are so stupidly obsessed with another its comical, just last week you were calling him a slut for a woman texting him about a tattoo” she  cackles taking her glasses off because her eyes were watering from laughing so hard.

“She sent him a nude that he kept looking at, which was gross by the way” you stick your nose in the hair and brush your hair off your shoulder.

“She was sending him a picture of her leg” Yuji intercepts being an actual witness to the picture and argument. 

“Yeah and you could see her underwear, very unprofessional if you ask me. I just think if you are a shop owner you should have a bit more professionalism and not allow stuff like that” you shrug licking your gloss covered lips.

“Sukuna… professional? Youre on a roll tonight doll” Toji laughs at you this time spraying his station down with cleaning spray signifying he was done for the day and throwing everything into a big drawer as the rest of your coworkers laugh at the comment.

“You guys are actually the worst and to think i was telling him he should be nicer to you guys” you pout looking at the picture turned flat on your desk.

“I'm going to just say what nobody else is saying— that moron fucking likes you. Its kinda cute the way hes been pinning over you for the last few months” Yuki blurts twirling her blonde hair around her finger from Chosos lap who hisses her name.

“Dont get involved ive been in the middle of their fights, not worth it” he tells her and Yuji just agrees. Maki nor Toji cared enough to get involved preffering to just be bystanders, sometimes the cousins even made bets on who would win.

A solid two weeks goes by before Yuki intervenes. Two weeks of glares, blatantly ignoring another and even bumping shoulder because truth be told you two couldnt go to long without touching another.

Yuki listened as you called him everything but a child of God including a slut, whore, whoremonger and 7 other curse words she wasnt even sure people with a degrading kink would enjoy being called as the two of you watch him tattoo a woman who had obviously been flirting with him the whole time. 

Yuki nearly looses it when its thursday— your day of the week to control the aux so of course everyone is expecting to hear megan the stallion which you don’t disappoint especially playing her newest album. But its when BAS plays that you and sukuna may eye contact before you look away going back to unpacking your ink not missing a single word.

“Im acting like i dont know him in public you treat him like a prize i treat him like hes disgusting” you rap a bit to loudly and the tension gets high in the parlor everyones eyes floating over to him but hes already glaring at you, you feel his glare but choose to ignore him so he does the only thing he knows he can.

“Turn this shit off” he snaps getting up walking over to the power source but is stopped when you finally speak.

“If its not your day on the aux you cant touch it— your rules” you remind him not even flinching or missing a beat he stops looking over at you the first time youve said something to him in weeks your pink curls in a half up half down with two strands framing your face his favorite hair style on you and its like you were doing it on purpose.

 “We aint together but we together i hope nobody dont catch us” you keep going a second later this time your eyes meeting his through the mirror and he almost looses his cool when truth be told when it concerned you didnt take much. All eyes are back on him to see what his next plan of action is knowing hes not going to let you get away with it.

“New rule Megan is banned on thursdays” he smirks watching the way everyone turns back to you bracing for the argument to break out. But thats what he wanted… he was a menace and you knew better. You just unlock your phone with a grin turning on a worse song.

Aint shit by Doja cat and you watch the way his ears burn red with anger as you sing along. He wanted to burn everything down. You couldn't play anything if there wasn't somewhere to play it. But this wasnt a game he wanted to play with you… he didnt even wanna argue with you. He just didnt want you to talk to that white haired freak.

So with a few more hours of listening to your “indirect” shit talking songs somehow all of you survived the end of the night with nobody dying Sukuna ended up leaving early to go meet with Uraume.

 So it’s no shock when you run into Uraume at the entrance of your apartment who sends you a kind smile.

“Hello” they speak politely, bowing at you slightly and sending Yuki a look. Yuki wasn't their favorite person and vice versa but they managed… somehow.

“How are you, it's been too long” you smile, hugging them squeezing in a way that made them slightly uncomfortable as you usually did it being your running joke since Uraume acted so professional all the time. Unaware of the way Yuki snaps a picture and posts it on insta making sure to tag you in it with a small red heart and heart eyes opting out of tagging Uraume for obvious reasons with no idea of the storm that was beginning to brew.

You sigh tilting your head as your black gently used paintbrush glides across the canvas. You weren't supposed to be thinking of him. Weren't supposed to let him live rent free in your mind you were here taking this class with your friends trying to be more in touch with your softer feminine side with a half up half down hair style a black bow tying your now maroon dyed body wave bundles together with a pink crop top and white mini skirt.

Trying to get over your feelings, you were passed the anger now just kinda sad this was the longest you had gone without talking to the bane of your existance.

Ryomen sukuna.

So why were you painting a throne on a pile of skulls and bones while the paint instructor had a field of assorted flowers and a beautiful sky. Before you can dwell on it your phone rings and you roll your eyes at the contact.

“What Choso” you spit into the phone and not that you hated him it's just that every time he called it was for something stupid… every time and this time was no different.

“Fine, im sending you my location now. Besides i don't think this soft girl era class is working anyway” you admit after hearing his request noticing Maki was painting a sword with a gun at the hilt and Nobara was painting a self portrait with a flower in her hair.

“And you want me to believe I’m supposed to just go look him in his eyes and say “No Ryo you're not like this” and he's going to stop destroying everything in his path?” You ask boredly twisting a burgundy colored curl around your finger leaning back in the car seat watching the dark haired man next to you run a hand over his tired baggy eyes. He winces, sending you a quick glance leaning further into his leather car seats. He originally told you he needed to have a talk about Yuki but once you got in the car and saw Yuji you knew it was about Sukuna.

“We have to try something… Y/n… I know it's been 2 months but he's getting worse. Hes not just picking fights anymore he's beating the shit out of people, he's destroying bars and clubs getting us banned and i've bailed him out so many times i'm actually nervous he's going to start putting a dent in my bank account” Choso exclaims pulling up to the bar and you can hear the commotion from the car. 

There's a part of you that enjoys knowing hes spiraling without you. The fact that hes now a complete crash out and is so horrendously down bad for you it nearly makes your heart flutter. But you push that sick flattery down looking at yourself in the side mirror before applying more of your nyx butter gloss on your plump lips.

“If you don't do it for him can you do it for me…please.”Yuji, sukunas younger brother asks, leaning forward from the back seat tall body squishing inbetween the seats of you and Choso. His puppy dog eyes and innocent demeanor are overwhelming… how could you say no. Sighing you look over at Choso with your most vicious glare lash extensions giving you a softer look though and made you look more like a vixen than a murderer. 

“You're lucky he's too young to be a witness or accessory in your murder” you threaten before swinging your door open and climbing out. The bar doors feel heavy as you push it open and you feel disgusted even being here. It was where criminals hung out, where people sold drugs beyond just weed and a place nobody called the cops no matter what happened. You were a lady and had no reason being here. 

But when you’re eyes land on him it’s like everything comes rushing back. How you met, where you met your first kiss first gift first fight and the last. 

Was it shitty to stop coming to the shop whenever you knew he’d be there? Sure but you knew you weren't strong enough to do it with him around. All it would take is his eyes going soft on you and you'd fold.

It’s like he senses your energy, of course he could. He could spot you in a dark room he paused so much attention to you that he knew you anywhere. His eyes light up for just a second. There's a split moment of happiness before the rage returns 10 fold and he destroys everything in his path to you.

“I dont need you following me or doing anything out of pity” he gives you a bored expression before turning back to his messes he created with a proud look.

Scoffing, you look over towards Choso eyes catching a glimpse of the bar and actually looking at it this time. Bar stools were broken and destroyed, the pool table in half and bodies everywhere. The bartender wasnt even behind the bar. He nearly burned it down destroyed… everything. Its like he tore the bar down in search of something  and began throwing a tantrum beating everyone senseless when he couldnt find it.

Turning completely away from sukuna you send a “are you serious look” toward his brother before stepping over the large body of a man, the heel of your shoe getting stuck for a second in the sticky blood. This was beyond your scope, absolutely nothing you could do. He was too far gone.

“Where are you going?” His voice hitting such a soft timbre makes you freeze along with Yuji but Choso has a knowing look. Like he knew all it took was for you two to see another again he no longer feels bad about tricking you saying he wanted to hangout just to get you here.

Sukuna instantly realizes how he sounds and scrambles to let out his rough demeanor.

“How dare you turn your back on me, woman” he seethes and you hated when he called you that it sounded so derogatory. But it reveals something to the other two in the room: all the rough words and acts of aggression was just him being hurt… who would've thought the great sukuna would be hurting and acting out like this all because he missed you. 

He felt abandoned.

Turning back to him you look him directly in his eyes watching the internal battle, you can't even help your eyes trail over all the new muscles and ink on his body… he was the one shirtless in here.

“Dude you're standing in a pile of bodies people you picked fights with. I don't want to bail you out anymore” Choso says, frustrated with his brother who just glares at him unimpressed.

“So leave me i told you i don't need your money just leave me” he gritts out running a hand through his hair. 

“And yuji?” His brother ask

“Yuji will be fine— people leave” sukuna speaks making sure to put emphasis on people leave while looking at you. He didn't get to do that, he didn't get to put you in this situation.

“We’re leaving” you say looking at the door but nobody moves, especially Sukuna who turns his head away from you and it’s like you could feel the heat of the room increasing.

“I said WE’RE leaving” and you pick up his motorcycle helmet and jacket shoving it into his chest and turning to walk out not leaving room for him to disagree. You smile when his heavy footsteps can be heard behind you and he makes sure to push the door open for you so you don't have to touch it.

As much of an ass as he is, he still makes sure to help you on his bike even offering his jacket so you don't freeze or have to worry about your skirt raising up as well as his helmet that still had the stupid Kuromi sticker you put on it months ago.

When he climbs on turning on the bike the engine roaring to life you hesitate wrapping your arms around his midsection which he scoffs at though you miss it over the load roar that has you clinging tighter onto him.

He smirks looking back at you before the two of you are flying down The streets of shibuya his frustration mild as all he can think of is your with the skirt on. He was too good of a driver to let you fall but he still had concern and fuck the way you’re legs looked and when did you dye your hair and—

He slows down pulling in to the garage of your building pulling into his usual parking spot that was spray painted with fire and skulls before cutting the engine. The walk to your apartment is silent. He doesn't know what to say and the last time he said something to you it was the wrong thing. He was starting to fume hating that you had this power over him, hating that he couldn’t just open his fucking mouth and talk swearing that in a past life he must’ve had several that wouldn’t stop moving so now he’s cursed with one that can’t move.

“Thanks for walking me to my door” you awkwardly say twirling the helmet in your hands before giving it back to him, a Kuromi sticker a stark contrast to the deep blood red. He licks his lips, feeling the way you look at him and suddenly feeling so small under your gaze.

“You should probably stop picking fights with people” you finally offer breaking the silence and hes instantly folds.

“I didn’t want to argue with you! I just think you can do better than that fucking cocky ass loser. I can’t believe you still went out with him” he rolls his eyes.

“I meant at bars” you tell him watching the way he gives you a blank stare to arrogant himself to acknowledge his own wrongs.

“And i didn’t go out with him” you add watching him scoff pulling out his phone and holding it up to you. The picture of you hugging Uraume only you can’t tell it’s them just you hugging a man with bright white hair screenshotted from Yuki's instagram.

“D’you think im a fucking idiot?!” He snaps, nearly crushing the phone in his hand which only causes you to laugh as you walk into your apartment kicking off your heels at the door. He follows only because he wants a explanation you were blatantly laughing in his face after being caught in a lie why the fuck was it so funny.

“Is that why your hair is red now? And you started wearing more makeup? And dressing more girly? And stopped coming to the shop as much” alright this was word vomit because what was he saying and what the fuck was he doing? He doesn't waste time with feelings such as these? Doesn’t care about insolent feelings like l—

“You’re an idiot if you don’t realize that’s your own fucking lap dog— its Uraume. They were outside and we were catching up i guess Yuki snapped the picture cause she thought it was cute” you giggle with a hand over your mouth watching as realization sets in.

“And my hair is maroon not red like the color of your eyes but obviously you hate it and my outfit and obviously you hate me because you went two months without talking to me and—“ your dramatically faint in his arms watching the way he smirks down at you when you peak an eye open missing the way it felt being so close to him and how quick his arms wrap around your midsection to stop you from falling.  In a split second your cheek is being cupped in his large palm and his lips are on yours. 

You aren’t expecting it arent expecting the softness of the action or his lips making your whole body freeze and eyes shut. 

Oh.

OH.

FUCK!

He couldn’t help himself honestly his brain moved faster than his body he hasn’t even processed what he did and now he has to find a new tattoo artist, explain to everyone why you won’t be working there any more find a new tiny woman to annoy him and a cliff to throw himself off of—

“I knew this lip gloss made my lips kissable” and he’s back looking down at you with a bewildered expression watching  the way you smile up at him still in his arms a slight dazed look to your eye and he swears he can see the little hearts in your pupils.

“I do hate you” he hisses with a smile pulling your lips back to his and this time you kiss back your hand reaching up to tug him closer making sure he knew exactly how you felt, letting your teeth graze his bottom lip pulling a small growl from him.

“Yeah. I like you too”

[scoatneyhall]

This news has people saying they'd like to see more from AFC Richmond (obviously) including the creation of the women's team. This is kind of a nightmare idea for me, because one thing I, as a football nerd, need people to understand about the concept of an AFC Richmond Women's Team is that they absolutely definitely already should have had one during seasons 1-3 of the show? Which made the pitch from Keeley in the s3 finale montage land SUPER badly for me. Like, a nice idea, easily conveyed, but nope.

Because the "football canon" of the situation is that every established Premier League club now has an affiliated women's team. And like yeah, Richmond aren't very good. But most other clubs going down the ladder into the Championship, League One, etc, also have women's teams. Richmond, when the show started, had been in the Prem without relegation for a long time. They would not be the only Prem club without a womens team!!! They would have been constantly called out for it, it would have been a huge criticism and pressure point.

(Side note: same goes for a youth academy - clubs are required to have one. So you can imagine that off-screen, AFC Richmond is operating an academy, a Development/ Reserve men's team, and a women's team, it just has nothing to do with the squad Ted coaches and their training may well be housed elsewhere.)

The WSL (womens top tier in the UK) doesn't have as many teams in it as the Prem due to structure (12 vs the Prem's 20), so the levels the men's and women's teams play at can vary drastically within the same club. Not all Prem clubs have the womens team in the WSL. But any club you (or the TL writers) may have compared to Richmond, or based them on? They do have a women's team, whether they play at the top level or not.

So for me, the moment with Keeley works okay as a "don't question it" thing in the context of a harmless series finale montage, but it doesn't work as something to build new stories off, at least not in the simplistic way it was presented. Because any extension of the Ted Lasso Universe, or a Ted Lasso season 4, that would possibly incorporate the "starting of a women's team" would be the show going SO far outside the realm of football realism that it feel like a major contrast to how the show has approached the football element before - including like, what division or tier a newly launched team would even be allowed to start in, and all that. You're not meant to dig into the moment in the finale, just process it as a nice, fuzzy concept. But if there is more show to come, with a plot line that tackles the idea pitched in the finale, it could never match the level of football realism that was applied to the show before, because they've invented a totally fake situation that just doesn't work like that. They would be lowering their own bar. I know that many elements of TL, like Ted coaching, are already extremely fake, but their dedication to most of what counts is very good and very specific. Following through on what the finale implied about the women's team would be a drop in football realism from their existing standards and I am suuuuper not interested in that happening. It would be a quality drop for sure.

This is a bit of a rant and I am possibly the only fan who cared about this, but that Keeley and Rebecca scene was honestly one of the worst finale moments for me just because it implies something soooo wroooong.

HOWEVER, there's a pretty easy fix, and it would be cool if they went in this direction: the only reasonable explanation is that Rupert ran the women's team into the ground/never funded it, just met the bare minimum requirements, and they were currently playing below FA level, like in the 5th tier with only semi-pro players who don't get a professional wage - basically hobby players, and Keeley’s pitch was about reviving them and getting promoted up the tiers ASAP, Welcome to Wrexham style, with new funding, recruiting etc. Sucks that they got no attention from Rebecca before now but they may not have had money to spare for it during season 2 or before Rebecca sold shares in the club... dealing with that, and the fact that Rebecca had to knowingly leave them on the back burner and neglect them... that could be interesting. There's a story to be had about the women's team, don't get me wrong, but it isn't as simple an idea as the finale implied and that the fans have since run with.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Percy is lowkey the only one that really understands Weasley!Reader’s complicated relationship with their parents and money so the two of them are closer then any of the other siblings

Percy doesn’t approve of the things that his little brother is doing but climbs the political ladder at the Ministry just to use his connections to keep the smoke off of his brother and his criminal activities

I love this so much🥰💕. I was honestly so conflicted how I thought Percy would be about the whole situation but I love how you put it. I already headcanoned in my own mind that Percy would be the first (and probably only one) in the family to find out about what the Reader was doing and that’s merely because he happened across the Reader during a dealing they were doing in one of the back allies of Hogsmead during school or at Diagon Alley before the school year started.

I imagine Percy being pretty upset and disappointed with the Reader at first but when they give their reasoning he calms down and is understanding of it. He even hunts his younger sibling felling terrible that they feel the need to resort to illegal means as to provide for their family. I think this would even cause Percy to resent their parents a little more than normal. If they only made better decisions or tried to strive a little harder in life then his younger sibling wouldn’t feel such a need to go down the path they’re going, and at such a young age too, all just to help out the family cause they’re parents can’t.

Percy would definitely involve himself in the Reader’s ‘business’, more so to ensure his sibling is safe and protected throughout it. But he doesn’t start out too thoroughly involved, just some behind the scenes stuff and covering for the Reader whether at home or school, until eventually he finds himself calculating the business’ overall earnings or looking into new ways to branch out the business as a whole in its’ dealings and who all it deals with.

When it comes to Lestrange!Daughter!Oc, Percy is skeptical. He doesn’t trust her at all, whatsoever, especially regarding his sibling. Hell, he probably believes early on that she’s the one who got the Reader into doing this type of stuff to begin with. Even after quite awhile of having her around and being involved in everything Percy would still be very skeptical of Lestrange!Daughter. He just can’t bring himself to trust her with his sibling. He’s seen first hand what she’s capable of when it comes to the Reader and that only worries him so much more.

Also, Percy coming across the Reader really hurt after a dealing gone wrong. Probably an incident that occurred earlier on when the Reader’s business was still in the early stages. I imagine things like this still happen every so often but the Reader is much better at handling the situation and putting whoever in their place by whatever means necessary, not to mention Lestrange!Daughter is there to take out whoever she sees fit (especially if they dare to cause any harm to her beloved darling). But no matter how many times it happens, Percy never gets use to it. No matter how far he’s involved it still hurts him to see his younger sibling getting so badly hurt because of everything. Especially when the Reader is at home after a particularly rough interaction; cuts, bruises, and broken bones, but they’re just so happy to be back with everyone, acting like nothing ever happened.