#let me know if there's anthing I need to change

[jazz-miester]

Hi! Could I get a scenario (or headcanons, I’m not picky!) with G1 Jazz as queer platonic partners with a human reader? Specifically one that’s trans masc? That would be awesome!!

G1 Jazz Headcanons.

As a side not. If anything in this is incorrect/just not right. Please correct me. Personally I'm not trans masc and therefore may not have some things right. I'm just going with what I know.

Jazz gets along with everyone. And I mean everyone. He's an easygoing mech that's down for just about anything people have to offer.

That being said. Although he gets along with a lot of people he's friends with few. And those he could see himself in a relationship with even less.

Jazz adores you and everything that you do. He has a deep interest in the different cultures and customs that humankind has. And to experience that through you? One of his most cared for people? This mech is ecstatic.

Jazz loves to learn all that he can about you. Music interests, if you're an artist, a writer. Maybe you have a passion for cooking. No matter what it is, Jazz is there, learning alongside you.

Some of your favorite things to do together is going on long drives. Just the two of you rolling down the long winding roads in the open desert. Warm air flowing over the both of you. And of course, music. Either softly playing or loudly blaring. Whatever fits the mood of that drive.

It was on of these drives that you told Jazz about your gender. About how it differs from most people on this planet. Jazz, being Jazz, rolled with it. It wasn't unusual for a cybertronian to do so. In fact it was easier for them to shift and change into a frame they were more comfortable in.

Jazz would help you in anyway he can if you're dysphoric. Reassurances. Smooth flowing words to calm your nerves. He will never see you as anything else than what you are. And he helps where he can. A change of clothes, a change of space.

He's also there as a hand/servo to hold if you just need him there. No words needed.

Jazz, along with his love for music. Loves to dance. And although the species/height difference may be a challenge. It's one he's ready to face headlong. He'll teach you traditional dances from Iacon and Praxus. Along with more modern dances of the time before the war took over.

It's amusing to the other Autobots to see the two of you dancing. Often times it's Jazz leaning over to be able to hold your hands as you twist and twirl.

You help Jazz just as much as he helps you during all of this. You are often a constant in his ever changing line of work. He has had to deal with mechs and femmes that wear masks. Ever changing faces of information and personalities.

You're there as a soft and calming presence to his chaos. Just being there is often enough to soothe him. Jazz, despite the persona he puts on, is tired and worn. His own exuberant personality more for others than himself.

The two of you balance each other out. Jazz learns more about you. Your home. He brings out confidence in you. Show's you just how comfortable you can be in your own skin. Your own body. And just how proud of yourself you need to be. You've made it this far. He intends to see you keep on going.

And you. You help bring him back down to, well, Earth. You give him the abilty to just be himself. To seek comfort in your presence. That he doesn't have to be so extraverted all the time. That he doesn't have to benefit every one else. He can rest. As long as you're here you'll be a constant. Forever letting him know that he can be his own bot. That he can seek peace in you.

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Drunken Mistakes

charles leclerc x reader x george russell summary: in the aftermath of a breakup, y/n and charles try to reconnect, but y/n makes a mistake, leading to a heartbreaking confession words count: 3k warnings: mentions of alcohol

The argument that led to Y/n and Charles' breakup started innocently enough. Charles had noticed his girlfriend was focusing on her job so much that they barely had time for each other. He couldn't remember the last time she attended his race.

"You never have time for me anymore." The man said. "I feel like we're growing apart."

"Me?" The girl scoffed. "Let me remind you, during the season you're in a different country every weekend."

"That's my job, Y/n, I am a formula one driver in case you forgot. But now the season is over and I want to spend time with my girlfriend."

"You knew what you were getting into when we started dating." Y/n argued, her tone defensive.

"You used to come to the most of my races!"

"Work has been tough, there's a lot to do." Her eyes avoided his gaze.

"Why do you care about it so much? It's not like you need money, I could buy you anthing you want."

"This isn't about money, Charles. It's about my career, my ambitions. I have goals too, you know?"

"But what about us? I miss you, Y/n. I miss us."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Y/n could see the pain in Charles' eyes, mirroring her own sadness.

Charles spoke after a moment of silence. "Maybe we're just not right for each other."

Y/n felt a lump in her throat as she searched for the right words. At one point she questioned if she heard that right. Charles was breaking up with her.

Charles regretted his own words, but his pride wouldn't let him take them back. He knew breaking up wasn't the only solution

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, but she tried to hold them back. "I never thought it would come to this." She admitted, her voice cracking.

"Sometimes, people change. Maybe we're just not the same people we fell in love with." Charles' voice was tinted with with sorrow.

In the following days, the space between Y/n and Charles grew wider, both emotionally and physically. They lived together, so the girl decided to pack her things and move out. It was hard, but not impossible to find a place in a matter of hours. And thanks to being hardworking, she didn't have to worry too much about the cost.

The problem was, she kept seeing Charles everywhere, in all social medias. Even after unfollowing each other, Y/n kept seeing news about him, pictures from events. The constant reminders made moving on way the more challenging.

In an attempt to break free from this loop, Y/n decided to put herself in a different kind of atmosphere. One night the idea of using alcohol as a temporary remedy for her heartache crossed her mind.

Dressed for the occasion, Y/n stepped into a bar. It was full of people, too many people for the possibility of being recognized by someone she could've known.

"What can I get you tonight?" The bartender asked as the girl sat down on a stool by the bar.

"Surprise me." She replied, a smile playing on her lips.

As the bartender began making a drink for her, Y/n allowed herself to look around the room. It was then that her eyes caught sight of someone familiar approaching her.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Y/n!"

George Russell. Not a close friend of Charles, but certainly an acquiantance of his. Y/n exchanged a word or two with him in the past, but didn't know him as well as she knew Carlos or Lando, who were closer with her ex-boyfriend.

"Nice to see you, George," Y/n sent the man a smile as he sat down on the stool next to her.

"What brings you here?" He asked, a curious glint in his eyes

"Needed to change my routine a little," she replied, accepting her drink from the bartender.

"How have you been holding up? Charles mentioned the breakup to me, but I didn't want to pry."

Not to mention it was all over the media, Y/n added in her thoughts.

Y/n sighed. "It's the reason why I'm here, what do you think?" She took a sip from her drink.

George leaned back, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Breakups are never easy. I can imagine it's been tough for you."

"It's the adjustment, you know?" Y/n continued, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "Getting used to the idea that the person you once shared everything with is now just a memory."

The man nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I've been through a few breakups myself. It's never easy."

Y/n found herself drawn to George's charm and the way he made her feel understood. His presence carried some kind of comfort that eased the ache in her heart.

George on the other hand, catching a glimpse of Y/n's eyes, found himself captivated by the vulnerability. The girl let herself be so open, talking about her breakup and the pain it brought.

"You know what, Y/n? Let me get you another drink." George said, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

Y/n smiled. "Sure, why not?"

George leaned against the counter, engaging in a brief exchange of words with the bartender, later turned his attention back to Y/n. "I've got this one," he declared with a charming grin.

The atmosphere between the two of them grew intimate as they continued the conversation with another drink. A subtle connection lingered between Y/n and George.

In a moment of unspoken tension, George's eyes met Y/n's with a hint of something more, longing for an intimacy that went beyond mere conversation.

Their faces drew closer, the anticipation building up. Y/n had come to the bar seeking a distraction and it seemed she was on the brink of finding it.

A moment of silence embraced them, a comfortable one. One in which drowned even the ambiance of the lively bar. The music, still loud, became a distant background.

Y/n closed her eyes, preparing to connect her lips with George's. But just as their breaths mingled, George hesitated, pulling back.

Instead of diving into a kiss, George surprised her by leaning back and asking, "How about we continue this conversation somewhere a bit more private?"

Y/n looked at him. "Like what?" She asked.

"My place is somewhat close."

Y/n's curiosity and the unspoken tension between them pushed her to agree. "Lead the way."

The city streets seemed to sway gently around Y/n and George as they made their way to his place. The night air carried a cold breeze, but the warmth of the alcohol kept them unaware of it.

Arriving at George's place, the quiet hum of the city outside was replaced by the comforting cosiness of his home. The dim lights embracing them in a romantic atmosphere.

George turned to Y/n after locking the door. Not moving from the hallway, they smiled at each other. George walked closed, causing Y/n to step back and eventually her back touched the wall.

Y/n's hands landed on George's shoulders, pulling the man even closer. Their eyes met and soon after that, their lips connected in a short kiss.

A quiet, tipsy giggle escaped from Y/n's mouth. George gently grabbed the girl by her wrist and led her into the living room. Sitting down on the sofa, he placed his hands on Y/n's hips, causing her to land in his lap.

As they embraced the tipsy intimacy, the living room became a sanctuary for yet another kiss. One that lasted way longer. One that had their clothes scattered around on the floor.

Closed curtains successfully stopped the morning light from getting inside the room. Y/n opened her eyes. She slept wrapped up in George's arms, so she carefully detangled herself from his embrace to sit up. Of course she didn't drink enough to not remember what happened.

Although she wished she did. A mix of guilt and regret washed over Y/n as she looked around. The cosy atmosphere that felt so comforting the night before now seemed to emphasize the reality of the situation.

Her eyes landed on George who was still peacefully asleep. Y/n didn't know what to do, she's never been in such situation before.

Water. She needed water. Her throat felt like a desert.

The girl quietly walked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of tap water. Somehow, her phone was on the countertop. She grabbed the device to check for any missed calls or messages left without a reply.

Her heart sunk when she saw missed calls and a few texts from Charles. What could he have wanted? Y/n hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to return the calls or respond to the texts. The weight of guilt intensified as she listened to Charles' voicemails.

Hey, Y/n, it's Charles. I know we're broken up and you probably hate me, but something kept telling me to call you. Call me back when you can, I miss you.

If you're not up for talking, just send me a text to let me know you're okay. I care about you and I want to make sure you're safe.

Y/n, it's Charles again. I'm not sure what's going on, but I've been trying to reach you all night. I just want to make sure you're safe

Y/n, it's Charles. I've left several messages, and I'm starting to think the worst. Please, just give me a sign that you're alright. I care about you a lot and not knowing is really getting to me

"What have I done?" Y/n whispered to herself. The guilt consumed her, overshadowing the moments of happiness she successfully looked for the night before.

Anxiety started to build up in her chest and her eyes were starting to get a bit watery. She hesitated, but eventually decided to return the calls, hoping George won't wake up to witness this.

"Y/n, where were you? I've been trying to reach you all night." Charles questioned.

"I needed some alone time." Y/n began, stammering a bit. "I don't have to explain my choices and actions to you, especially now."

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line and Y/n could almost sense Charles processing her words.

"Y/n, we need to talk. This isn't fair to either of us," he finally said.

I don't wanna see you ever again, Y/n wished she said. Her words came out a bit differently however.However, her words came out a bit differently. "Fine, let's talk." Because no matter what she did, she missed Charles.

"Could you come over today? It's so, I don't know, weird to talk about it on the phone."

"Sure. When could I come over?"

"As soon as you can, maybe? If that's alright for you."

"Give me an hour or so, I'll be there." And with that, she hung up.

Just as the conversation was finished, George walked into the kitchen. He looked at Y/n with a warm smile that gradually faded as he sensed the tension.

"Morning," he said with a rasp in his voice, "are you okay?"

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. She decided to be honest with George, he deserved it after all. "We need to talk about what happened yesterday."

"Yeah, about that..." he scratched his neck, "I don't want to give you any kind of hope or-"

"Wait, what? Was it meaningless to you?"

"Ah, here it comes. Well, I'm not looking for anything... romantic. Not now. We can do what we did last night more often, but no strings attached."

These words gave Y/n a sense of relief. "You don't know how glad I am that this didn't mean anything to you."

Y/n's confession hung in the air, creating an awkward pause between her and George.

"Are you being sarcastic?" He asked. "I don't want to complicate things further or lead you on."

"No, no sarcasm at all. Actually, I've just talked to Charles on the phone."

"Oh, and? What did he want?"

"He was worried, tried contacting me last night too many times. And... well, I'm meeting him today. He wants to talk."

"Ah, that's never good. Do you think he'll want to get back together?"

Y/n took a deep breath. The answer was yes, she did expect Charles to get back together. However, she didn't know if she should tell that to George.

Considering the silence on Y/n's side, George continued. "Do you wanna get back together with him? It didn't seem like it last night," a sly smile appeared on his face.

"I... I'm not sure, George. Charles and I have a history and there are feelings involved, but things have been complicated lately." Y/n replied, choosing her words carefully.

"Relationships are messy and figuring out what you want is important. Just be honest with yourself."

With George's words echoing in her mind, Y/n gathered her thoughts and headed to meet Charles. She stopped by her own place beforehand to make herself look decent.

"Hey," he greeted her, as he opened his door to let her in. There was an expression of concern on his face.

Charles didn't look better than Y/n that morning. His hair was disheveled, he looked as if he wasn't able to get good sleep in the past few days nor did he shave his face.

"I was worried sick," he admitted, "what happened? Why didn't you answer earlier?"

"Jesus, Charles, I was busy. Besides it's not very ex-boyfriend of you to call me a thousand times in a row."

The air inside the apartment felt heavy. In an awkward silence, Y/n and Charles settled on the couch.

"I care about you, Y/n. Damn it, I love you." The man broke the silence. "I don't think the breakup was a good idea."

"Well, it was your idea..."

"I make mistakes, we all do, but it's nothing that cannot be fixed, right?"

You're gonna hate what I'm about to tell you, Y/n thought. She could see the sincerity in his eyes and it made her feel so much guilt.

"Charles, I... I appreciate your honesty and I care about you too," she began, "so I need to tell you what happened yesterday."

Charles ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "I know we had issues, but I still believe we can work through them. I love you, Y/n, and I can't just let go."

Y/n took a deep breath. "Don't say that."

"Why not? That's the truth, I love you and I've never regretted anything as much as I regret breaking up with you."

"Charles, stop." Her voice raised slightly, but then she lowered it back to normal. "I did... something last night and... It was a mistake, but it happened, I cannot hide it from you."

Charles nodded. "Then tell me, but I swear nothing can change my mind."

"Okay..." Y/n hesitated, looking for the words that would hurt the least. "Last night I went out, drank probably more than I should've and I... ended up spending the night with someone."

Charles didn't reply for a long time, a mix of shock and hurt crossed his face. The room seemed to close in on Charles and Y/n as the silence stretched.

"You... you what?" Charles finally said, his voice a fragile whisper.

Y/n felt her chest tighten as she faced the consequences of her actions. "Charles, I know this is difficult to hear and I'm so sorry. It was a drunken mistake, I didn't realize what I was doing."

"Do I know him?"

"What?"

"Do I know him?" His voice raised. "If you told me you did it, you can tell me who you did it with."

Y/n hesitated, realizing the added layer of pain she brought. "It was someone you know," she admitted, "George."

"George? George Russell? Really?" Charles's voice carried a tint of anger and hurt. "You could choose any guy, but you decided to go for him?"

"I didn't plan it, it was a mistake and I regret it."

"And you have the audacity to come here, probably straight from his place?"

"You wanted to see me."

"I had no idea you fucked Russell!"

"You said we can work through our issues. It's not a mistake that cannot be fixed, right?" Y/n pleaded, her eyes starting to tear up. She was surprised she managed to keep herself from crying for so long.

"I don't know anymore, Y/n," Charles sighed. "I love you, but I don't think you realize the weight of what you've done."

"I understand, Charles. I truly am sorry," Y/n cried, her voice shaky with emotion.

"No, Y/n, just stop. I can't believe this is happening, I need time to process it. I think it's better if you leave."

Y/n felt her relationship with Charles crumbling beneath the weight of her mistake.

Charles's gaze was distant, the pain in his eyes echoing the depth of his hurt. "Y/n, I need time to figure out if we can move past this. Right now it's too much."

Tears started to slowly run down Y/n's cheeks as the reality started to sink it. "I never meant to hurt you like this, Charles. I love you and-"

"I need space, Y/n," Charles said with a heavy sigh. "I need to process everything. Please, just go."

It felt like a dagger through Y/n's heart, but she nodded. Deep down she understood it. With a heavy heart, she stood up, casting one last look at the man she still loved. She left Charles to deal with the aftermath of their mutual pain.

Each step away from Charles felt like a step into an uncertain future, leaving behind the comfort of what was familiar. Y/n couldn't shake the guilt and regret that devoured her, questioning if there was any way to fix what she had broken.

[uraniumnm333]

polysho !!!!! I think that when they're rehearsing or blocking scenes, rui will just pick up nene, emu or tsukasa and move them. nene gets carried bridal style, emu will cling to rui like a koala, and tsukasa is either carried like a sack of potatoes or a wet cat. he'll change it up sometimes tho so tsukasa will be expecting wet cat treatment and instead get the married man 5000. speaking of my boy tsukasa i think. he's the touchiest person ever. like more than emu.

my man was so touch starved when he was little that now he just. cannot get enough of it. he lets emu cling onto him and nene hold his hand and rui put his elbow on his shoulder and whatever else. and he carries nene around and spins emu and leans onto rui. and at this point everyone's noticed it but they just don't say anthing bc awwwww. skrunkly.

also sorry for the wackiest take ever but i think nene is second on the touchy-o-meter. she really enjoys it when people hold her hand or whatever but. she's not sure how to ask. she thinks "maybe i can ask if emu/rui/tsukasa wants to h*ld h*nds" and the cringe detector in her head goes off.

emu of course is "can we hug?" "can we hold hands?" "can you carry me?" "can i carry you?" and nobody ever tells her no bc <3. she will come at you in high speeds and there's <3 nothing you can do. she does it to tsukasa the most bc she knows he always spins her aound when he catches her. rui will just pick her up bc he doesn't know how to spin her. and nene will catch her in a hug.

rui the type of guy to put his elbow on people's heads bc he's tall and needs to rub it in. he also frequently does the carrying around because he's the tallest. emu will ask him to give her a piggyback ride bc she likes feeling tall. he also learned how to ballroom dance on youtube and will just randomly pull one of them into a dance.

i also changed my mind actually they're all the same level of touchy but emu's the one who initiates it all the time. or tsukasa but yeah. they are all just touch starved and crave physical contact <3

[leupagus]

All of my GOT ships are some variation of "It's rotten work. Especially to me, especially if it's you. I'll fucking do it but christ alive." The fun thing is that each member of each pairing gets to switch it up periodically

"'All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes.'" 

Tyrion needed a few moments to understand what was happening — or rather, how much of various things were happening all at once. Queen Daenerys was standing in his quarters. She was scowling at him impatiently while wearing her flying boots and leather coat. It was halfway through the hour of the owl. He was naked in bed.

"What?" he managed, wrapping the bedsheet about his waist and trying not to think of the dozens (hundreds?) of times Jaime had marched into his chambers in just this fashion. He'd never bothered to cover himself — Jaime had changed his smallclothes when he'd been an infant — but a queen was a different matter.

"'All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes,'" Daenerys repeated. She had, in addition to the boots and the coat, a scroll in her hand; she waved it at him now.

Tyrion was still lost. "Please refer to my previous question, Your Grace." He scooted to the edge of the bed and slid off, keeping the sheets firmly bunched about him as he rummaged through a chest of drawers for a pair of trousers.

"A message from Volantis has just arrived," Daenerys said, stomping over to his wardrobe to take out a shirt. "You'll need this, too," she added, tossing it on the bed.

"Will I, indeed?" he asked, pulling out his trousers and flapping them at her. "Turn round, please, Your Grace."

Daenerys rolled her eyes, but turned obligingly. "It's from Kinvara, the high priest of the Red Temple in Volantis. She claims someone from Westeros has come with a warning."

"She wants you to go to Volantis?" Tyrion demanded as he hopped on first one foot, then the other, to get his trousers on. Fortunately the shoes were easy in Meereen: nearly everyone (including Daenerys, unless she was flying) favored the practical sandals that could be easily slipped on and off. "The same place that tried to foment rebellion in every city on the Bay these past two years?"

"It's a risk," Daenerys agreed, "but Kinvara was the one to first inform us of Volantis's betrayal; she could have had me overthrown a year ago, but she sided with us instead."

"That's due in large part to our agreement to let one of her priestesses sit on the Congressional Council," Tyrion countered, "but pray go on, Your Grace."

She huffed. "Second, I've informed Grey Worm that in the event I am captured or killed, he is to bring the entire force of the Unsullied, the Second Sons, and the Free Fleet of Meereen down on Volantis's head. Not only that, but I'm leaving Viserion and Rhaegal here; if anthing happens to me they'll burn the entire city to ashes and molten rock."

"A proportional response, to be sure," Tyrion agreed. Personally he'd rather have Daenerys alive; no doubt he was growing sentimental in his old age. "What's the third reason? You always have at least three reasons to do anything."

"The third is — can I turn around now?"

"Your Grace is free to do as she likes," he said as he wrestled the tunic on. He emerged to find her regarding him thoughtfully. "It's clean," he said defensively.

"I know, I picked it out," she said absently. "No, I was just thinking I should've made you visit the barber earlier."

"Ealier than when?" he asked, but she simply turned on her heel, obliging him to scurry after. "And what's the third reason?"

Daenerys handed him the scroll. "I've had a jacket made up for you, which should help with the cold, but you'll need some sort of boots. Meereenese have no idea how to dress warmly."

"Dress warmly for what? Earlier than when? And what's the third reason?" Tyrion must be dreaming; that explained it.

Daenerys snatched the scroll back and read it out loud. "'To the most revered—' et cetera— 'I am bid to tell you that two of your countrymen have arrived, with information that cannot wait for our slow ships to make their way to you. I beseech you to come at once to Volantis, as you are capable of arriving far more swiftly, and what information I have cannot wait. If you doubt the veracity of this message, or the sincerity of its messengers, one of these messengers asks that Tyrion Lannister be remembered to him, for all dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes.'"

"Jon Snow," Tyrion said, remembering that summer eve in Winterfell, so many (was it really so many?) years ago. "It's something I told him once. He's a member of—"

"Of the Night's Watch, I know," said Daenerys. "That's the third reason. Though I'm a bit puzzled as to how it could be him — Lady Stark believes him dead, doesn't she?" She continued onto the Nursery, calling over her shoulder, "There's no time for a barber now, but really, Tyrion, a whole flock of hummingbirds could nest in your hair."

"We don't all have attendants to braid our hair to within an inch of its life each morning. Unless it's the hummingbirds doing it for you."

"I braid my own hair, thank you very much." They came to the Nursery door and met with Missandei, who was holding a leather jherkin and an apprehensive expression. "Thank you," she added to Missandei, far more sincerely.

Boots, Tyrion thought stupidly, just as Daario came strolling up wearing a brown-and-red leather coat and stout riding boots. He held a smaller pair in his hands. "Boots. Jackets. Wait."

"First flight on dragonback?" Daario asked, sketching a bow to Daenerys as he handed the boots to Tyrion. "Mine, too — though I've been angling to get a ride for months." 

"And I'd advise against doing anything that makes me reconsider," the queen replied, and went through the door to the Nursery. Daario followed her with a broad wink to Tyrion, leaving him alone with Missandei and a jacket.

"She can't mean for me to go with her," Tyrion said even as he numbly accepted her help getting his boots on, along with the new jacket. It had large brass rings affixed by stout leather strips, so that one might be strapped into the saddle of a— 

"The first time is the most frightening," Missandei said solemnly, taking his sandals. "I hardly ever vomit from terror anymore."

"'Enemies in each direction,'" Tyrion muttered as he trod off obediently to his doom.

There was a saddle for Drogon now, but it couldn't accomodate three people. "It's fine," Daenerys said as they climbed the steep steps to the balcony. Drogon was already there, staring down into the darkness of the city at rest. "We'll ride bareback."

"We absolutely will not," Tyrion objected. He may not still be entirely awake, but he'd be damned if he climbed aboard a dragon in the middle of the night like some lunatic Targaryens he might mention.

Daenerys rolled her eyes. "It's perfectly safe!"

""For you, Your Grace. What if Drogon doesn't like us riding on him?" Tyrion asked. At that, Drogon's great head curved around to poke him in the stomach. "It's a fair question!"

"Drogon won't let me fall," Daenerys said breezily, and Tyrion found himself sharing a rare moment of fellow feeling with Daario as they caught one another's eye. 

[japhan2024]

Slipping

A belated Anthony's birthday fic... yes I have been listening to Linkin Park again lately, can you tell x) Anthony is unsure about his role at Smosh and is angsting and emoing about it.

read on AO3

words: 832

Anthony lies on his bed, listening to screamo. Wallowing in eternal overthinking, plotting and extrapolating. It always ends the same.

He wishes he could just take a nap and take a break from the world. Does that make him a bad friend? Doesn't Ian deserve more? He's always deserved more. But Anthony doesn't know of he can give it.

Finding his place at Smosh again was a journey. It's not the same. And he understands. But as the seasons are changing, Anthony feels his energy levels dip. His insecurities rise.

Is he even a real actor? Next to someone like Amanda or Chanse he's nothing. Is he even funny? People only have to look at Shayne and they're in hysterics. Only after making a fool of himself will people laugh at Anthony.

So what's left? What can he do at his company that he founded, but has so outgrown him? He can't even be bothered to give all his time to it, he has a second child - Pressalike - now. Stretched too thin. 

And then there's his personal life. Thanks to Brandon's scathing roast he's now trying out different hobbies, letting out his creativity without the product having to be good. It's about the process. That freedom actually allowed him to make beautiful things. But he's been scared of what he's painting lately. He doesn't even remember doing it, through the heavy haze of intoxication.

He feels like he is slipping. 

He hears his door. There's Ian.

"Happy birthday!"

Ian places what looks like an old radio on Anthony's side table.

"What's that?" Anthony asks, not moving from under his blanket.

"You'll have to come and see."

Alright. Only Ian can get him out of his slump. Anthony turns off the music and crawls out of bed. He is a bit embarrassed because he really needs a shower. But as he gets closer to the present, he realizes what it is.

"Whoa, Ian, those are so expensive!"

"Don't worry about it," Ian says, head tilted and eyebrows raised. "I think you will know what to do with this."

"Can I try it now?"

"It's yours, go ahead."

Anthony pushes the 'on' button and configures the instrument. Then, he moves his hands gracefully around it, not touching it. An eerie sound, much like you'd hear in an Alien movie, makes its way through Anthony's bedroom. Ian sits down next to him.

"That's hella awesome."

"Do you wanna try?"

"Yehess!" Ian tries it. Anthony watches him, leaning into him a bit on the bed. It's comforting.

"You have such small hands, Ian. No! It's cute! Don't look at me like that," he giggles. Ian is scowling, making the Theremin sound distorted. "Here, let me help you."

Anthony guides Ian's hands along the instrument, moving only ever so slightly. "There, isn't that so amazing?"

"Yeah..." Ian looks at him from up-close and Anthony is shocked - although he shouldn't be, he's known Ian forever - that his best friend's eyes are SO intensely colored.

"Thank you, buddy," Anthony tells him. "This means so much. First we were painting together, now we can form a band!"

"Just like old times, huh." Ian looks down again, luckily because that stare made Anthony's heart race.

"Yeah, just like old times..."

Anthony falls on his back onto the bed. "I'm sorry Ian, I've been a bad co-owner lately. I've kind of been letting you steer the ship entirely, while we'd said that I would put in an equal amount."

Ian lies down next to him. "I totally understand, Anthony. We have to find a new equilibrium, we will. And I've been flying solo for a long time, I can handle it. Just talking to you about it is already such a help."

"You really mean that? I thought I was weighing you down..."

Ian looks at Anthony again. For one of the first times, it is Anthony that looks away, though.

"You could never let me down, Anth. And of course this isn't the only thing I brought..."

Ian sits up again and takes a box out of his pocket. It's cigars.

"Fancy a smoke?"

"Uhhh YEAH," Anthony jumps up enthusiastically.

Ian hesitates, but then he says, "You smell really good, did you know that?"

"Really? I thought I needed a shower!"

"No, you don't, it's..." Ian inhales deeply. "I guess it smells like... just like you. Like Anthony."

"So I'm always stinky?"

"Shut up! I'm trying to give you a compliment."

They laugh.

It is the best gift Ian could have given Anthony. Not the Theremin. But the reassurance that Anthony is okay, that he can take some more time to figure it all out. A weight seems to fall off of his shoulders. And as he looks at Ian, the grown version of his best friend. A final form, so to speak. He is mesmerizing. The sunlight falls exactly into his eyes and it's like they are on fire.

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing, let's get to the balcony."

[butterflykpop]

So sorry if this is too awkward. But can I get a oneshot about Hyunjin comforting his girlfriend when she’s on her period. I honestly have the worst pain, it’s unreal! Maybe he comforts her and soothes her when she has really bad cramps??

It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna write it!

ily

Pairings. Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings. None just Hyunjin being the best boyfie ever

Word count. 0.5K

A/n. Hii you're my first request ahh this is exciting i really hope this was able to fullfill your desires and to you and the other readers please let me know if this was good all the feedback is needed. One more thing this is 100% not awkwaed at all like i said i will write about almost anthing anddd i hope you're feeling better my love, ilyt🫶🩷

Your pov

Being in bed all day might seem wonderful to most people but not when you're in this much pain.

I've been laying all day twisting and turning hoping that this pain would somehow come to an end. But these cramps seriously felt like they were never going to go away.

I was on my phone when i heard the front door open and your probably why would leave the front door open?

Well i left open knowing my boyfriend was coming over to spend some with each other, not having a glue what this guy was doing.

"Hey Hyunnie whats all that stuff for?"

He let out a soft chuckle "Their for you my love i know you have your period i got the notification from the tracking app."

"Hyunjin really? i dont even track my period."

"Well im doing it for you." He said as he let a cute laugh

"Okay baby i bought all your favorite snacks, a heating pad and of course all the kisses and cuddles you need."

"Oh thank you Jinnie you have no idea how much i needed this."

"I know baby its never easy going through this every month, I'll go heat up the heathing bad baby just give me a few minutes i'll be back"

He smiled at me while giving me a small peck on my lips.

He came back after around 10 minutes (i had to google how long it takes to heat up a heating pad😭)

He then placed the heating pad on my stomach and i couldn't help but look at while i was smilibg like a idiot, he was the only who could ever cheer me up within any moment im truly lucky to have him and call him mine.

"What are you thinking about honey."

"Nothing really just how lucky i am to be able to call you mine all you ever is make me like a princess."

"You don't do this only when i am on my period you do this at any given you can and Hyunnie i still can never find words to thank you."

"Thank me? Oh baby you never have to thank me not now not ever i'm supposed to do this is for you, its my job and duty for you to make sure you get treated like a princess, so you don't ever have to thank me."

I was starting to tear up a little just knowing my boy cares about me this much.

He definitely noticed as he was previously sitting on the bed now he changed positions now laying next to mine.

He leaned in a little slowly planting a soft kiss giving me all the butterflies.

I smiled in to the kiss as he caresses my cheek and delicately rub his thumb against it

I pulled away to bury my head in his chest, never wanting this moment to end, to always be with, stay with like this forever and never escaping from it.

Hyunjins pov

Y/n is always telling me how lucky she is to have me but god i am the most luckiest man to ever exist, to able be to get to love her, be with whenever i can, taking care of her like this i truly am the most blessed man ever and let alone to be able to call this girl my mine feels like a dream.

Song:

[viric-dreams]

Trying to sleep whilst simultaneously letting some potential lore scenes for future writing/art run in the back of my mind produces some truly unsettling results.

Under no circumstances would Roberts be court martialed for treason. Officer Beverley seems to understand this, but his logic is entirely backwards. Framed by the glow of the fireplace, Beverley leans back against the sole chair in his spartan lodgings and explains what he’s so sure is going to happen. If Roberts does not comply he intends to go to the London admiralty, to let them in on his missing time, the new player making waves in Anarchist circles, the lies at the foundation of his very existence. He seems to think that the Dark-Spectacled Admiral has the power to land him in political scandal.

His letters will never reach the Admiral. Roberts knows this with the same certainty that he knows the Dawn Machine burns in the Southwest. Beverley’s contact is the Voracious Diplomat. He’s trying to be cagey about it, but Roberts has seen the letterhead, shoved quickly into a drawer whenever they need the space on the desk to work. And the Diplomat would never let such a tidbit go to the Admiral, not when it’s worth so much more on Grand Geode.

Roberts was there for the Luminous Plot of ‘69. In fact, he had been the one to ensure that its perpetrators would never find a way to return from the slow boat, no trial, sham or otherwise. As he and the Commodore stood against the gunwhale and watched their cement-laden bodies sink into the Zee, the Commodore turned to him.

“You wouldn’t betray me, would you, Elias?”

The expression on his face is clouded, as if already playing through and wounded by the possibility in his mind. It feels like being thrown into ice water.

“Of course not, sir!”

The very idea is appalling. Surely the Commodore doesn’t truly believe it’s in the realm of the possible—not when the very idea makes his skin prickle. He’s the Commodore’s man, through and through, dedicated to both him and the Work.

The Commodore smiles, his golden eyes suddenly kind.

“That's what I thought. You wouldn’t do such a thing,” his hand reaches out to pat his shoulder, “Not from my most loyal midshipman.”

He can’t help but flush at the praise. Hopefully, the deck’s dim lighting covers it. But it hardly matters, for the Commodore turns away, gazing into the waves where they’d thrown the traitors not minutes ago. Roberts thinks the conversation is at its end when the Commodore starts again, eyes never leaving that fixed point on the Zee’s surface.

“If you did betray me, of course, I wouldn’t kill and feed you to the dawn flukes. That would be too easy of an end. Instead, I’d weld you into our smallest zub and ship you to Anthe. Who knows,” he shrugs, “you might just even have enough supplies to make it.”

He can’t breathe, his lungs are frozen in his chest. The image is all too real—trapped in that metal coffin, hardly able to move. Through the icy panic, all he can feel is the frantic hammering of his heart and the sharp twinge of the muscle of his left thigh, where the scarred skin puckers above it. The Commodore wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Right? He has to take a breath. He needs to respond. It’s been too long. His silence might be taken for suspicious.

“There’s no need for that, I assure you.” The words come out whole, though his voice is frailer than he’d like. The Commodore is studying him now. Roberts isn’t sure whether or not he can meet his gaze, what the Commodore might see on his face. After a moment the Commodore nods.

“I didn’t think so. But you never know.” With that, his mouth slides into a grin, demeanour changing like night and day. “We’d best get back soon. There’s work to be done back on base. I’ll alert the navigator.”

Roberts sees the hand coming soon enough to not flinch when it lands on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring shake, before the Commodore is off, already descending the ladder.

He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, chasing the claustrophobic phantasm from his mind. The Commodore is right—there’s work to be done.

Truth be told, he’s not entirely paying attention to the details of Beverley’s demands. He doesn’t have to, when he already knows he’ll agree to whatever he says. It’s clear as dawnlight what he must do. The Officer seems almost surprised by how easily Roberts acquiesces, but that surprise soon turns to barely-concealed delight as the scientific possibilities unfold before him. He’s already turned away from Roberts and back to the schematics, searching for a pen to record the newest thoughts.

It’s truly a shame, Roberts thinks, hand reaching behind him for the fireplace poker, to have to lose such a promising engineer. But treachery is something that the New Sequence cannot tolerate.

Beverley doesn’t even see it coming until the instant he brings the iron poker down across his skull.

[meeeeeeri]

Things that really ANNOYED THE FUCK OUTTA ME while watching OUTER BANKS SEASON 3:

First things first: Big John AKA big old crazy dude

Let's just say that besides being a shitty father figure he also is selfish as fuck. He only decides to appear in John B's life whenever he needs him to do something treasure related, like ok big John, you love your son so much *cough cough*

In other hand, he also is willing to do ANTHING to find el Dorado, and by ANYTHING I mean killing people, tell me that's not what a psychopath would do.

And all the fricking screen time dedicated to the relationship between John B and his father???? Like we get that they need to bond again but DO WE HAVE TO WATCH ALL THE PROCESS?

No thank you Netflix, do better next time

I saw a tik tok that went something like this: Who said Ward is a bad person? Big John? cause if we wanna talk about someone BAD let's talk about Big John...

And yeah, that tik tok literally summes up my opinion about this individual.

Me roasting Big John with this post:

2: Rafe and the girl named Sofia who came out of nowhere

Ok. Don't misunderstand me; the idea of introducing a new character who's gonna play the girlfriend or fuckbuddy of Rafe is super super interesting to me BUT

Can you elaborate more their relationship????? Give more CONTEXT????

They could even use her apparition and do a BOMB ASS side story like idk maybe her being more cruel than Rafe or her having some kind of business relationship with Singh and betraying him in the process... WHATEVER

But I'm just saying that that would have been more interesting than the parental issues between Big Dumbass John and John B

A video of me crying while scenes of John B and his dad appeared on my tv non stop:

LOOK AT HIM HE'S SO CUTE LOVE HIM

3: Sarah and Topper

Don't even get me started on this shit.

When I saw that Sarah went back to flirting with Topper I was like WHA- WHE- WHO

But I'm not gonna question her that much because they are supposed to be playing teenagers, and that's what teenagers and (also) some adults do:

STUPID SHIT

And Topper... I really don't know how to feel about him.

He's like a shark who's ready to attack if he sniffs some blood (Sarah and John B breaking up or having relationship turbulences), but I can't even blame him that much because I feel like he really loves Sarah besides everything, and he really demonstrated it this season by helping the pogues out.

What Topper was replaying in his head when Sarah promised him that she would stay:

4: Sarah's thoughts when she was left with no family, no money and nowhere to go (she was homeless for like a day and decided to cope with it by drinking beer from an abandoned beer tap, ok)

Um... When I say I was expecting her to say something philosophical and life changing and SHE DECIDED TO CONCLUDE HER SPEECH WITH: I really don't know if I'm a pogue or a kook...

SIDE EYE

Girl I KNOW you are 17 but GROW THE FUCK UP.

You've been betrayed by your OWN FATHER and SHOT and nearly KILLED by your BROTHER and that's what you're thinking about???

Jesus Christ have mercy on me

All the build up story around pogues and kooks is really interesting (even tho it's like another form of saying rich and poor people) but when characters say shit like that it really makes no sense.

You have no home, no family, you argued with your bf and he left, and your friends are not there at the moment and YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT THAT IRRELEVANT SHIT? Damn

Ok, I think I am done with most of the things I wanted to say. There are MORE for sure, but these are the most important ones.

I have to be honest with you, I still haven't watched the last episode bc I really got tired of their bullshit. I love the show and I really love the characters, but this season just wasn't it. I am gonna try and finish it today with hopes that they will end it in a decent way (I don't think so but whatever).

It's not a secret by the end of this post that I'm a spanish native speaker so, yeah, I tried my best to write down correctly the ideas that I had about the show, so PLEASE don't come at me.

I'm also writing a fanfiction about Rafe, but I'm doing it in spanish because I feel like if I wrote it in english I would fuck it up.

Maybe I will try and start uploading Rafe imagines or smth like that, bc they would be shorter and easier to write for me.

PLEASE if you have any thoughts or a comment that you wanna add after reading my rant, just do it, I'm for sure gonna be answering y'all because I love to talk about the show and the characters.

BYE P4L

[fineline2005]

1

a/n: Welcome to the addiction series!! this is my first ever serious post lmao, so please take it lightly. give me ur honest opinions tho! i hope you guys like it <3

this story is placed around the time harry got mugged on the street, but im changing some thing! he is also still dating olivia in the begining of this story so if that bother you im sorry. but that will change, just be patient my children....

famous!harry x plus size!normal oc

1.9k words (i promise i will try to make them longer lol)

the one where harry meets meg, but not in a way you would expect....

content warnings: mugging, talks of knives, talks of drugs and alchol, talks of being cross faded. i think thats it but let me know if there is anything else!!! this is an 18+ story!!! i cant stop you from doing it but please, viewer descretion is advised!!!!

part one, megs pov:

"damn, your crossed as fuck." pepper said laughing. i couldn't really feel it but i knew she was right. at this point im so use to the feelig that i cant even tell the difference. aside from the alchol i had taken a couple of things that were past around and somked a bit of weed. i wouldn't say i'm the 'highest iv'e ever been' but im definietly i in no state of mind to be driving. thank fully med had driven me her, as she was D.D tonight.

i was starting to get really hot. i knew that as soon as i felt that fire start to creep up my spine it was time for me to tap out from everything for the night. i passed the joint in my hands to the person on my right with out even remembering who it was. i picked myself off the couch and make a b-line for the front door, but not without pepper noticing me.

i feel someone follow me and i assume that it pepper. i turn around and see my assumtions are correct.

"hey, you ok?" she asks. i nod a brush it off, but at this point in our friendship there is nothing i could hide from her. physical or emotional. "tell me the truth meg." she says giving me her famous stare of truth, as we walk to a place more private.

"yeah, just having that feeling again." i dont need to explain more. she gives me a knowing look understanding what i'm talking about the minute i say it. she had a worried look on her face and sits there thinking about what to say next.

"maybe you should go home. do you need a ride?" i know she hasn't been drinking and it would probably be safer to drive with her, rather than walk the streets alone in LA at 1am, but i saw her talking with cassie (who she's been crushing on for month.) and i dont want her to have to stop something she barly got to start. i shake my head no and tell her that i can walk. she gives me an 'are you sure' look.

"i think it will be good for my head and make the hangover a lot more bearable in the morning. besides, i think tonight will finally be the night you get lucky with cass." i wink at her. she turns red before giving me a nod telling me to text her when i get home. i agree before hugging her and making my way out.

i start my jouney home holding on to the knife in my pocket just to be safe. i don't live in the best part of town, so i have to be ready for anything. i pull out my vape just to calm my nerves. i've always hated walking alone, and being crossed out of my mind wasn't helping.

i walk pretty fast for being in the state im in. as i start getting closer to my nighborhood, i hear some shit going down not far from me. of course its got to be the path i need to go down. i put my head down trying to ignore whatever it is and just get home. i make a lot of rash choices while being this fucked up, and the last thing i need to to go back to jail for the night.

as i get closer, i see a group of short guys surounding a rather tall man. i couldn't tell if this was some kind of drug deal with a skinny king-pin, or if the tall guy was in trouble. i decided to just act like i dont see anthing. the last thing i need tonight was to be dragged into what ever the fuck this was.

as i walk by i see the tall guy pull out a big stack of cash. i don't think i've seen that much moneyin one sitting in my life. i then realize the group of short guys was pointing a knife to him.

they were mugging him.

i may sound like a bad person for saying this, but i think i need that cash more the tall guy and the rest of these idiot. like i said, i make rash and stupid choices when im in this state of mind. so with out think i start to walk faster. i hear the group of me start to ask him for his phone. thats when i decide to take action.

"hey! leave him alone." i shout from about 12 feet away, being way more loud than i intended to. they look at me and start to laugh.

"i suggest you keep walking and turn your pretty head beforw something bad happends to you sweetheart." he says now pointiing his knife at me. the tall guy gives me a look telling me to just run.

i keep walking over there with my slightly bigger knife in my pocket with my hand on it incase i need to pull it out quickly.

"well this 'sweetheart' is perfectly capable of pretecting herself from idiots like you." god i'm so fucking stupid sometimes. i am in not shape to being doing this shit right now.

but the things i do for money are actually ridiculous.

"seriously sweetheart. the last thing i wanna do is use this big scary knife on such a pretty thing like you. so save yourself the trouble and keep walking."

at this point i'm pissed. maybe it was the alchol talking or maybe he was just a sexist pig. but now i had to do something. i chuckle a bit before starting my next sentance.

"you know what's a lot scarier then a 'big scary knife' attached to a 'big scary man'" i ask while stepping closer. he gives me an amussed look before letting me continue.

within 1 second my knife is against his throat and i'm in his face.

"an even bigger knife, with an even scarier girl who really doesn't give a fuck." fear pools into his eyes as he looks down to the knife he is stuck under. i look around the the rest of the guys seeing a look of shock on their faces as well as the tell man in the corner. they all look aroundnot knowing what to do next, conflicted on whether to help their friend, boss, or whhatever he is to them, or to stay where they are not wanting to be the next one under the knife.

"so what's it gonna be? are you going to leave me and this nice gentlemen alone and walk away? or are you going to have a painful reminder of how you got mugged while trying to mug someone. not to metion there is witnesses."

he thinks about it for a bit before he drops his own knife and him and is crew walk away.

good choice.

i look over to the tall, skinny man and see the look on his face of pure disbelief. i could almost laugh if it wasn't for the fact that i'm no better then the men i jusy scared off.

"thank you! thank you so much!" he says with a smile on his face. i grip my knife harder walking up to him slowly.

"don't thank me yet." i mummble before quickly pointing the knife to his stomach. he laughs to himself for a second. before i know it the knife is outo of my hand and on the ground while im being pushed against his chest and restrained.

"you obviously have never done this before, and if you have you are really bad at it" he says luaghing as he picks up and throws me over he shoulder.

thats new...

i laugh finding humor in the situation i put myself in.

"what gave it away." i ask still laughing. he chuckles along before answering. "maybe the fact the you are clearly not sober and aimed the knife at my leg rather then my stomach." if that was his leg then this guy is taller then i thought.

"what's your name?" i ask as we walk aroud with me still on her shoulder, having no idea where we are going. "harry. what's yours?"

"i'll tell you if you put me down." the blood was starting to rush to my head and if were to stay in that position for another 2 minutes i would probably throw up. before i know it i'm on the grown again, losing my balance. i almost fall but he grabs my arms and hold me up until im steady. "meg, my names meg." i say while looking up at him. he has a face i've see before but to be honest, when im thing crossed everyone looks like someone i've seen before.

"do you have a girlfriends harry?" i ask with a suggestive tone in my voice. "yes." he answers immediately, while straightening up his posture.

"good," i drop the tone looking at him seriously. "go home and tell her you love her. you could have died tonight." and with that i start to walk away. after this whole thing my mind is way more clear then when i left the party. now i just want to go to sleep.

"wait!" i hear fast foot steps approaching. i turn around to see him pulling out his wallet and phone. he takes out a couple of $100 bills and unlocks his phone. "i feel like i owe you this for saving me. and i feel like you owe me your number for trying to mug me after." i give him a pointed look feeling like this is some kind of joke and he's trying to mess with me for pulling a fast one on him. "don't you have a girlfriend you are suppose to be telling you love?" he luaghs. "i just want to keep in contact. you seem fun, even if you are a criminal." i smirk and grab his phone entering my number. as i'm doing so i pull out my vape taking a couple of hits before looking up. once i do i see a look on his face telling me he's not super into it. but he's a stranger so i dont really care what he thinks.

"what? you act like half the people in this city dont do this and you've never seen it before." i say before putting it back in my mouth and taking a few more hits. "i mean, i know and i have. its just i know really like it. you know how how bad that stuff is for you, right?"

"its called an addiction for a reason." i say. i had him back his phone. "and on that note, i bid you adieu." i say bowing and copying the accent i picked up on. i walk away and this time he doesnt follow me.

as i walk into my appartment i text pepper to let her know i make it home. i check the clocked to the that its now 3:30am. i didn't realize that much time had gone by. she response asking what took so long and if i was ok. i answer back telling her i'll tell her in the morning when we go on our daily walk-and-talk. something we've been doing since freshman year of highschool.

my head hits my pillow and i knock out almost intantly. deciding that what ever choices i make tonight will be a problem for future meg to deal with.

[djarins-cyare]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

Thank you to both @ishabull and @amywritesthings for tagging me! 💖 There were a few more categories in Isabel’s version, so I’m using that template…

Last Song: Ready Now by dodie. Spotify has somehow figured out it’s the soundtrack to my fic and has put it in ALL my playlists! But I love it, so that’s okay.

Favourite Color: Teal if I’m looking for bold, or duck-egg blue if I need a softer pastel.

Currently Watching: Good Omens season 2 when I have time to give the screen my full attention (so mainly on my train journeys to London). When I’m making dinner and doing the dishes, I’m re-watching Elementary. I just finished re-watching seasons 1-13 of Doctor Who as well (prepping for DT’s return!). I’m also halfway through a second viewing of The Clone Wars (bc I was doing a whole Star Wars chronological re-watch), but I skipped ahead to watch Rebels a second time before Ahsoka comes out… and haven’t finished that yet either!

Last Movie: Attack of the Clones (during the above-mentioned SWU chronological marathon). Lately, I haven’t had the time to stop what I’m doing for the length of a whole movie!

Currently Reading: I mean, I’ve literally read nothing but Din Djarin fanfics for the last 24 months or so. On AO3 I take all F/M Din/Reader fics, sort by kudos, and then read everything one by one. I’m on page 15, and there are 20 fics on each page, so I guess I’ve now read the 300 top-rated fics. Right now I’m on chapter 2 of Birdsong by Lilac_Sugar.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Definitely sweet. I don’t mind savoury. I cannot deal with spicy, though - I’m a supertaster, so what’s mild to others makes me feel like my mouth is on fire. I would NOT make a good Mandalorian 😅.

Relationship Status: Utterly proud of my singular status, having finally let go of those damaging social constructs that teach us we’re ‘one half of a whole’. I’m not half of anything - I’m independently whole and complete, and instead of being afraid to be alone and desperately chasing the wrong people, I’m letting love come to me when the time is right… jate’kara. Though come back to me when I’m an old crone surrounded by dozens of cats… my opinion may have changed again!

Current Obsession: Continuing in my two-year obsession with Din Djarin. He is my every waking thought. Many of my unconscious ones too 🥰. More specifically, I’m obsessed with perfecting my fic, even though it’s now published, but that’s a neurodivergent thing. I literally won’t be happy until I’ve proofread and edited it to a professional degree. I’m also busy brewing my next fics… doing a lot of planning right now.

Last Thing I Googled: Boring real answer: it was a work thing, I was looking up criminal damage sentencing guidelines for a case I’m working on. Non-job-related more interesting and creative answer: I needed synonyms for ‘desire’ for my writing. There are seriously not enough nouns in the English language for this. I did learn this one: ‘cacoëthes’ - an uncontrollable urge or desire, esp for something harmful; mania. Sounds familiar… 🤔

Currently Working On: See obsession section above. Perfecting Be-All And Endor, and considering what else to write. I currently have 22 concepts and/or summaries, some short, some long, so I’m trying to decide what’s most appealing. It’s difficult! I’m also open to requests, as I think I’d like to do a few one-shots for practice.

No Pressure Tags: @missbabyjay @dins-riduur-anthe @space-cowboy-like-me @katiemando @linzels-blog @nervoushottee @frickatives @davnittbraes @littlewriter

[roryspeaks]

i promise i really dont hate sophie, i swear..

okay so im re-reading the school for good and evil for the 10000th time, and re-reading it makes me notice how obvious it is that sophie isnt "good" in the first book. Just for the reader since we saw her deepest thoughts and wants. which were all in fact selfish and quite mean most of the time.

This isnt like a sophie hate post, i truly love her as a character. Im talking book one sophie though was so blinded by her wants and needs and was unable to see who she was becoming and why she was doing the things she felt she needed to do.

like ways to not prove your not evil- a list. in no particular order.

dont insult all your roomates as soon as you meet them

dont them be mean to the only person who thought you were friends. legit digging graves so you didnt fail. ( im a dot lover she is best fight me)

getting a boyfriend and then telling your best friend to get her own life, when she literally climbed you up the mountain that was yours. studying with you for nights over and over again.

then when the boyfriend is in need YOU ALMOST LET HIM DIE

Like come onnn, you dump your best friend for a guy you barely know but claim to love, bestie then saves your life several, SEVERAL times and when you see the "love of your life" and hes about to DIE she doesnt do anything??? that always didnt understand that like how mentally did that feel right to her. Yet, I wonder if Agatha was in the same place, would sophie save her? I like to say she would as her friend.

I think agatha brought out the good in sophie, i guess it just bothers me that she only seemed to help her or be kind to her when she felt back or wanted something from her.

i am a true-through and through agatha stan though so thats why im a bit baised. I love them together, yet sophie alone without agatha seems to just not be supportive and it doesnt change when they go back home??? like she still has such a childish unware and selfish lifestyle.

So maybe, just maybe this is a sophie hate rant but I DONT HATE HER, I just have very complex feelings with her a character and i dont like the way she treated almost everyone who showed her kindess and care. They never expected anthing back and she processed to take more. Im noticing I have some unresolved feelings about sophie but its probably cause im rereading and i have an intense love for agatha.

[silversurvival]

he toys with the phone given to him by this world, but fails to find the feature to help him out of the dreadful neighborhood in the fibonnaci ward he accidentally wandered into. silverash can feel the daggers being stared into his back as he walks, trying to retrace his steps, but the streets look almost the same. he curses himself for relaxing so much so, the slip in his attention earlier now resulted in him not knowing how to leave. 

yet, despite the negative attention from the residents here, it seems they aren’t violent. yet, he remains wary now, on guard, knowing full well he has no abilities or weaponry to protect himself. however, he won’t go down without a fight and the confidence in his weakened ability is reflected in his posture and walk.

but then, someone... non-aggressive catches his eye. someone who seems like they didn’t instinctively hate him. he hesitates, and then speaks, 

“pardon, but i only recently arrived. i’m afraid i’m lost -- would you mind telling me how to exit this place?”

                                                           @boundlesshsentity​

[teamconductors]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Lost Tracks of Time, Chapter 6

Summary: Previously, Ingo and Emmet put themselves into a pickle. Now someone needs to help them out!

Author’s Note: Last chapter was rushed and I think it showed. This one is more to my liking :)

As always, thank @furiouskettle for the designs of Ingo and Emmet as Sneasels and inspiring this AU story thing! Also let me know if you get tired of me tagging you in everything.

(Shippers DNI)

At the Bonechill Wastes were two rescue teams from the Pearl Guild. One was Team Stardust, a hyper-ranked team originally there for a lost item recovery but was lost on a darkened floor. The other was Team Conductors, there to attempt to rescue Team Stardust – or, at least that’s what they told themselves.

The two teams took to opposite sides of the room to settle in. Emmet finished covering up the hole he made earlier in a botched escape attempt. Ingo sat in a corner with Chandelure. In Chandelure’s blue light, Emmet could see that his brother was lost in thought, and whatever thoughts he had weren’t pleasant.

“Worrying won’t make things better,” Emmet said. He sat down next to Ingo.

“I am pleased to see that your engine is still running well.” Ingo said. “I can’t say the same about myself.”

“Hm? Well, there’s not much we can do. I want to do more, but I can’t. It’s best to just use the time to relax.”

Ingo nodded and then returned to his blank gaze. When he was tired of the silence, he spoke again. “Emmet… You are missing memories like I am, but do you ever feel like your body moves on its own?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“So you haven’t had that experience… It happened when I yelled at Anthe. I couldn’t figure out why I felt protective over my coat’s flaws, and I still can’t. And now… I don’t know why I came here.”

“I thought it was to help Team Stardust.”

“That is correct! And I still do wish we could have helped them more. But… when Guildmaster Irida described what happened to them, the image of a dark tunnel with no way out struck my heart. My instincts told me to go help them. …No. They told me it was my duty to help them secure a route out. It wasn’t my duty as a rescuer but as… something else. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t. Emmet, why did you let me make this journey here?”

“Team Stardust is strong. I was hoping for a battle. Now that we’re at this station, I changed my mind. Battling is fun when it’s serious, but it’s not fun if everyone isn’t ready. You are not ready. So I will not battle them today.”

“So not even you could get what you wanted out of this mission. …I failed as a conductor and as a pokemon rescuer today. Can you see it in your hearts to forgive me, my team?”

***

At the Eterna Forest, there was once a grand tree. Humans cut it down one day, leaving only a stump that displayed its thousands of rings it gained through the ages. At the stump stood several large pokemon simply known as The Nobles. Nine of the ten Nobles were present, using the stump as a table. The only non-Nobles present at first were Adaman and Staravia.

“We’re here,” Irida said as she entered the grotto with Chatot and Sneasler in tow.

“You’re late!” Adaman said.

“No, I’m not! You’re early.” Irida grabbed a crate from a small pile to the side and dragged it to the exact opposite end of the stump from Adaman. Chatot sat on the floor next to her. Sneasler didn’t take a crate and instead took off her basket to use as a stool. Sneasler sat between Lord Arcanine and Lady Electrode.

“Now we may begin,” Staravia said.

“First, thank you for taking time out of your day to see us, Mighty Nobles,” Adaman said. “You may have heard that something strange is going on with the mystery dungeons. We’ve been getting an up-tick of rescue jobs for a while, but for the past few days, pokemon are describing pitch-black floors where not even Flash or luminous orbs can help guide them.”

Irida continued Adaman’s explanation, cutting him off. “The floors are impossibly large for the dungeon they’re in, and no sets of stairs could be found anywhere. Escape orbs, the move Teleport, and even our badges won’t let them escape. The dungeons were always mysterious and vast, but this is another level of weird.”

“I think they show up in random dungeons and floors, too,” Adaman said. “There’s no pattern! There’s been ones at the very last floor of dungeons, ones in the middle, and ones in the beginning. I found a request today from the Obsidian Field. The Obsidian Field!”

“Hm…” Lord Kleavor thought for a moment. “This reminds me of something, but I’m not sure what… Something about distortions…”

“Distortions?” Irida asked.

“I suppose you have a point, Kleavor,” Lady Lilligant said. “Space is getting warped in these dungeons – more than usual, that is.”

“But what would be causing these now? And why?” Zir Basculegion asked.

“We can discuss the whys later,” Lord Wyrdeer said. “All we can for now is that pokemon are in immediate danger, and they will keep being in danger all long as these… Distorted Floors keep popping up.”

“Crap,” Adaman said. “So we should continue keeping everyone out of dungeons for now.”

“May I ask the Nobles to warn the non-guild affiliated rescue teams to avoid dungeons until we find an escape solution? They may not listen to us, but I’d imagine they’d listen to the Original Rescuers,” Irida said.

“We can do that. Is that right, everyone?” Kleavor glanced around the stump and was satisfied with their nods in agreement. “And thus that is the plan for now. As for trying to find exits, we may need a couple of days to figure out possible methods of escape. We will hold off from entering them until then.”

“Is there anything we can do as guildmasters to help you brainstorm faster?” Irida asked. “Most of my teams are at the guild, but I currently have one rescue team in a “distorted” region in Bonechill Wastes.”

Sneasler had been in a relaxed pose, holding her head with her hand. Then she jumped to complete attention, making Electrode yelp from surprise. “…Irida, repeat what you just said.”

“Listen, I know it’s not great! But the team currently at Bonechill Wastes was there before I gave the order to all my teams about staying at the guild.”

“THOSE IDIOTS!” Sneasler leaped to her feet and grabbed her basket. Sneasler ran to leave the grotto. Her basket was replaced upside-down, yet nothing fell out. “I need to go, continue the meeting without me, tellmehowitgoesafterokaybyeeee!” Before anyone could say something, she had completely left the forest.

***

Sneasler descended through Bonechill wastes without stopping for a single break. She entered a floor, she found the stairs, she exited the floor, and repeat. Any pokemon who failed to clear the path of a Noble on a mission found themselves on the receiving end of a Dire Claw.

“Why am I even doing this? How did I get to this point?” Sneasler talked to herself out loud. “I’m just a Noble doing Noble things, then one day I see a weirdo on a mountain, and suddenly everyone is accusing me of being the weirdo’s sister and I’m in a literal wasteland looking for him again. Man, I was just doing my job. Now I got some weird ass Sneasels and their weird lifeforce-sucking Chandelure friend on the mind. I didn’t even want to be a Noble… I just evolved one day and suddenly I felt like I aged a thousand years.”

After passing 22 floors, she arrived to a floor completely shrouded in darkness and came across the uncanny sense of space around her. “…Yeah, this looks pretty distorted.” She reached out, looking for a wall and followed along one upon finding it.

“Ingo! Emmet!” She expected to hear an echo of her own voice but heard nothing, like the void swallowed up her shouts. “How comforting…” She walked into the darkness, hoping for a way out.

After walking for what seemed like an hour, she rounded a corner and yelped from a flash of light. In the room in front of her was a beam of white light in the very center. “Okay, I’ll come back to that.” She walked around the pillar of light to continue exploring.

***

“When we depart from here, we need another maintenance day,” Emmet said to Ingo. “Our last one was interrupted. Let’s set our route for resolving our memory problems.”

“Oh, I see… By uncovering our memories, I would be able to understand more about the feelings in my heart. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about compromising our safety involuntarily!”

“And then it could help us uncover your mystery mission, too.”

“Exactly!”

“Yo, do I hear neeerds?” a familiar voice asked from down a long corridor.

Ingo and Emmet jumped to their feet. “Lady Sneasler?!” Ingo asked.

Musharna levitated to standing position. “Is that one of the Nobles…?”

“You haven’t noticed her presence gracing the Pearl Guild as of late?” asked Lucian, still sitting on the ground. “Though, maybe the better question is: why is she here?”

Sneasler kept walking until she saw everyone’s faces thanks to Chandelure’s flames. “So, were you guys going to tell me you were going into a dungeon with no way out, or was I supposed to figure it out myself from talking to Irida and Adaman?”

“Yes,” Emmet said. Sneasler glared at his cavalier attitude.

“Did you depart from your meeting posthaste because of us?” Ingo said.

“Yes, I did, you idiots! Who the hell willingly goes someplace without a plan to leave?!”

“You can’t talk. You’re down here with us now.” Emmet’s normal grin made him look smugger than he truly felt.

“Listen…” Sneasler refused to admit that Emmet had a point. “I’m sure you guys already surveyed the floor, but there’s something I want to check out. Follow me.” She pointed at the corridor that she entered the room from.

Ingo turned to Chandelure. “Light the way and lure us onwards, Chandelure,” he said. Chandelure smiled and floated to face Sneasler. They smiled at her.

“I’m still not chummy with you yet,” Sneasler said, causing Chandelure to frown and their flames to die down. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Just… let there be light, okay?” Chandelure smiled, and their flames returned to normal strength. She then looked at Team Stardust. “And are you guys coming with?”

“C-Coming!” Nidorino said. He and Musharna ran to meet with Sneasler, with Lucian in the back watching everyone.

The two rescue teams followed Sneasler down several hallways, and after passing through several rooms only filled with darkness and sparkles, she stopped right in front of a room identical to the others. “Here it is! There’s the weird light tower thing I saw!”

All of the pokemon looked to where she pointed at but only saw the dark room with sparkling snow. “Lady Sneasler, is there supposed to be something in here?” Lucian asked.

“…No one else sees the blinding beam of light?” She held a hand in front of her eyes, blocking the light from the beam. “…I’ll take the silence as a sign that it’s just me. Great.” Sneasler walked up to the beam that was very real to her. Everyone else stayed by the room entrance.

Sneasler brought a hand to the light and reached into it. “Oh. Kinda feels like fabric. I wonder…” Sneasler dug her claws into the light. Lucian, Nidorino, and Ingo gasped, and all the pokemon behind her (even Chandelure) brought their hands up to shield their eyes from the sudden flood of light. “Oh, so you see that, huh?” Sneasler smirked. In a single motion, she swiped her hand down, ripping open the light fabric. The beam of light fizzled as the tear lit the room with white light magnified by the snow walls.

“Is that a portal?” Lucian asked.

“Who wants to go through first?” Sneasler asked, gesturing at the tear in space.

“…Seeing as my haste unnecessarily led my team into this mess, I see it as my responsibility to be the lead here,” Ingo said. “Stay here, Emmet.”

As Ingo stepped forward, Emmet grabbed Ingo by his arm sleeve. Emmet was still smiling, but tears welled in his eyes, highlighted by reflecting Chandelure’s light. “I will go with you.”

“…Very well. Let’s depart then.” Emmet let go of Ingo’s arm, and the two Sneasels walked into the white rip at the same time. Chandelure immediately followed them.

After a moment passed, and when Team Stardust and Sneasler grew sufficiently worried about the well-being of Team Conductors, Ingo’s voice, though sounding distorted like he was underwater, came through the portal: “We arrived at the dungeon entrance!”

“What?!” Team Stardust said. Lucian quickly collected his manners and told his team, “I believe that is our cue to follow them.” With a single nod of trust from his two companions, the three walked through the rip. Sneasler then followed suit.

When Sneasler stepped through the rip, she found herself and the two teams she was with at a valley between snow-covered mountains. Behind her was the dungeon entrance to Bonechill Wastes, denoted by a frosted stone acting as a sign and a stone arch as the portal into the snow wastes. The white rip closed as soon as Sneasler finished crossing through.

“Oh, we really are at the entrance…” Sneasler said her thoughts out loud.

“Excellent! Bravo, Lady Sneasler!” Ingo said. Emmet held his arms up and was jumping with Chandelure. “We made it out safely and efficiently!”

“Soooo does anyone have any idea what just happened and why only I saw that light thing?” Sneasler asked.

“Perhaps. It’s not the most solid explanation, but…” Lucian began. “There’s a tale originating from long ago. When humans disappeared, mystery dungeons appeared. Many pokemon got lost and lost themselves within them. Then the ten Nobles, originally sent by the Almighty to watch over the land, began answering the calls of help. The Nobles became the Original Pokemon Rescuers, using their abilities to bring pokemon out of any situation. …Or that’s how the story goes, at least. Then again, what do I know compared to an actual Noble?”

“So basically, I’ve got a power as a Noble that is actually useful for once. Cool!” Sneasler took off her basket and slapped open the top. “Oh, and Ingo, Emmet…” She bent down to face the Sneasels at eye level. “If you ever do anything this stupid again, I’m not punching your tickets and letting you board for, like, a month. Got it?”

“Understood…” Ingo said as Emmet said, “Got it”. Chandelure nodded with them.

Team Stardust watched as the weird Sneasels climbed into Sneasler’s basket like it was some sort of routine. They continued watching as she put the basket back on and began walking in the direction of the Pearl Guild with Chandelure following closely behind.

“On route to origin! All aboard!” Ingo and Emmet said together, pointing forward.

“… I wanna ride in that basket…” Nidorino said to himself as his team followed Sneasler.

***

“The guest is… Lady Sneasler! The guest is Lady Sneasler!” Palina, along with other housekeepers within the guild, often had to take the helm of sentry duty during the night shift. Sneasler making an appearance was not as an unusual sight as it used to be. “Wait, someone else is with you. Let me see them please.” After a moment, Palina looked down her binoculars. “The guest is…” She gasped. “Lucian?! Team Stardust is back?!”

Within mere seconds, the gates to the Pearl Guild lifted. Irida and Chatot ran outside. “Team Stardust! Is everyone okay? Are you injured?”

“We are all well, Guildmaster,” Lucian answered. “Team Conductors certainly made sure we were safe while waiting for rescue.”

“Team Conductors?” Irida asked.

“Yep,” Sneasler said. She grabbed her basket and swiftly turned it over her head. The contents of her basket, aka Ingo and Emmet, both landed on her feet and struck their usual poses while pointing at Irida. “Aww, you guys stuck the landing? That’s no fun.”

“Did… Did you…” Chatot’s feathers ruffled up as he began forming the question in his mind. “Did you explicitly ignore Guildmaster Irida’s order to not enter a mystery dungeon until further notice?!”

“Yes,” Emmet said with a casual smile.

“As Lucian said, it was to confirm the safety of Team Stardust,” Ingo explained. “Please forgive us, but we found it imperative to do so, even if it compromised our own safety.”

“You ignored an order from the Guildmaster! I can barely handle you two on a normal basis, but this is… this is..!”

“Okay, before Chatot Explodes, do you guys wanna know how they got out?” Sneasler asked.

“Actually, yes, please!” Irida answered, hoping to distract Chatot from his rage.

“Well, you might wanna call in the other Nobles and Adaman for this one, because I think we just figured out how to escape those distorted areas.”

While Irida, Chatot, and Sneasler discussed recent events, Lucian, Musharna, and Nidorino approached Ingo and Emmet.

“Team Conductors, thank you for today,” Lucian said.

“What? We hardly did anything special,” Ingo said. “We just provided food and medicine.”

“Sneasels, you summoned Lady Sneasler to help us…” Musharna said, followed by a yawn.

“Don’t thank us for that. She came on her own,” Emmet said.

“Sure… But would she have come for us that soon if you weren’t there?” Nidorino asked. Neither Ingo nor Emmet could answer that question with confidence.

“And regardless, you provided entertaining company, which is always appreciated,” Lucian said. He took off his x-ray specs to look at the guild members in the eyes directly. “If you need something from us, let us know. It’s the least we could do.”

“Nonsense! We were just doing our-“ Ingo’s speech was interrupted by Emmet placing his hand over Ingo’s mouth.

“You are Team Stardust, a hyper-ranked rescue team. You must have a large collection of bands in storage, correct?” Emmet asked.

***

The sun had yet to rise over Coronet Mountain when Ingo and Emmet visited the Tailor Shop once more.

“Here’s your caps, freshly cleaned and imbued with strength,” Anthe said as she placed both caps on her counter. “However, given the time of day, I will need one more payment as compensation.”

“Would you accept a big apple and a box of poffins?” Ingo asked as he and Emmet searched their satchels for the items he mentioned.

Anthe raised an eyebrow. “What type of poffins?”

“An assortment,” Ingo said as he presented the box to the Furfrou. A dozen poffins arranged in rainbow order sat neatly in paper liners. Emmet placed an apple the size of his head next to the box.

“…That will work.” Anthe took the food items while Ingo and Emmet grabbed their respective caps. They both inspected the lining and found thin bands corresponding with the ones they presented to Anthe for her service.

Ingo put his cap on. “…It feels exactly the same. Excellent!”

“Now we can return to the guild for morning announcements,” Emmet said.

“Goodbye, Anthe! I hope you reach another destination, a higher state in your life!” Ingo said as he, Emmet, and Chandelure exited the shop.

“Thank you…?” Anthe said, hoping it would be the last time she saw the weird Sneasels.

***

Chatot and Irida stood at the stage in front of the rest of the guild. Both of them had rings under their eyes, but only Irida’s were noticeable.

“…And now, you’re probably all wondering about if you’re able to enter mystery dungeons again. The short answer is yes, sort of. I’ll have Guildmaster Irida explain.” Chatot stepped to the side to allow Irida to take center stage.

“Thank you, Chatot. First, everyone should know that Team Stardust safely escaped from Bonechill Wastes last night!” Irida paused to allow the guild members to briefly celebrate. “But there’s a lot to go over.” Chatot pulled out a paper and held it out for Irida to read.

“One: We decided to call the floors of complete darkness and no escape “Distorted Floors”. As a reminder, there is no pattern where and when they show up.

“Two: Thanks to Lady Sneasler, we found out that Nobles have the ability to open exits from these Distorted Floors! And yes, all 10 Nobles have this ability. We confirmed this last night.

“Three: From now on, until either these floors will never appear again or we find an alternate way to escape them, all rescue teams must be accompanied by a Noble. I do not want to risk another team being trapped in a Distorted Floor again!

“Four: We have five Nobles on call for us and five for the Diamond Guild. This means we can have a maximum of five teams out in mystery dungeons in one day. Everyone else can do errands for the guild, help housekeeping, even spend some time off, but you CAN’T enter mystery dungeons without a Noble.

“Five: Which brings us to our list of Nobles on call: Lord Kleavor, Lady Ursaluna, Lord Arcanine, Lady Sneasler, and Lord Avalugg. I will discuss how we will spread out duties at a later meeting. And yes, this means the Diamond Guild will have Lord Wyrdeer, Lady Lilligant, Zir Basculegion, Lady Electrode, and Lord Braviary on call.

“Six: We will continue investigating other ways to escape the Distorted Floors. Calling on the Nobles, while very useful, is inefficient when we have to consider the vastness of the land and all the pokemon that must be helped. We have to figure out more solutions!

“…And with that, I will end the morning announcements here. I will have a later meeting for just the rescue teams, but for now, everyone is dismissed.”

After the morning announcements, Team Conductors approached the job bulletin board and found a certain Noble.

“Good morning, Lady Sneasler!” Ingo said while saluting. “What are your plans for today?”

“Depends. How bad did Chatot punish you?” Sneasler said.

“…Oh. He didn’t give us any reprimanding, I don’t think,” Ingo said.

Emmet smiled wider. “Chatot forgot about us last night.”

“Ah. I thought he was gonna take away dinner or make you not go to dungeons for a few days, but never mind, I guess.” Sneasler crossed her arms and leaned on the wall next to board. “So, where are we going then?”

“Are you accompanying us, Lady Sneasler?” Ingo asked.

Before Sneasler could interject, Emmet waved his hands from excitement, letting his sleeves flap about. “You’re joining our team!” Chandelure joined in his excitement by jumping up and down.

“Hey, I’m not joining your team! I’m just making sure you weirdos don’t get trapped in a dungeon again! It’s the same thing as what the other Nobles are doing, okay?”

“Thank you for helping us, Lady Sneasler.” Ingo smiled.

Sneasler felt something warm inside her. “Yeah yeah yeah, let’s just get going before Chatot remembers he needs to punish you.”

***

(Bonus author’s note: Here are the in-game descriptions of Ingo and Emmet’s hats with the buffs.)

Black Conductors Cap: A hat made for the master of single battles. Raises attack by 5, defense by 5, special attack by 5, and special defense by 5. Works only when worn by Ingo.

White Conductors Cap: A hat made for the master of double battles. Raises attack by 5, defense by 5, special attack by 5, and special defense by 5. Works only when worn by Emmet.

[iwadori]

are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend  

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.  

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask  

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.  

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”  

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”  

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”  

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.  

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic  

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.  

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug  

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled  

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

[ezgithechaotic]

pushing up the dasies . peter parker

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x female reader

summary: Someone has been stealing Y\N's flowers, and she is determined to find who it is.

warnings: she\ her pronouns (don't know if this one's a warning), mention of the death of a loved person, graveyard

author note: I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. But please let me know if you see anthing that doesn’t seem right. I really have no idea if this is good or trash. I’m getting mixed signs. So, please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

As a comic book nerd, I personally love both Andrew and Tom's Spiderman. Just thought this story fit Andrew's more, but feel free to imagine Peter as your favorite! 

masterlist 

The first time you realized a few flowers were picked from your garden, you didn't think much into it. The kids around the neighborhood liked to play hide and seek around your garden. You thought; it should be Thompson's girl, she likes flowers. It wasn't something that never happened before. You would simply plant new ones, it was no big deal, you could never get angry at children. But after some time, you started to realize the pattern. Every month on the same day, you found a handful of your daisies gone upon returning from your part-time job. Mrs. Thompson swore her daughter would never do such a thing without asking, and after the third time, you were sure somebody was stealing your flowers. Maybe it was that gruff man across the street that never got along with people. But you had a feeling if he had to do anything with your flowers, it would only be blowing them up. 

Peter always wondered whom the pretty flowers and house belong to. The post box just outside the garden said Y\L\N, and he had always imagined an old sweet woman lived in the white-painted house with a green door. And Peter hoped he didn't make the poor woman too sad with missing flowers. Boy, was he wrong. You weren't old, and you were furious and determined to find the person who stole your beautiful daisies. 

Your friends always wondered why you liked living in such an old neighborhood. The house was one of the few things your mother left you after she died, along with the considerable amount of money in your bank account. You could always sell the house, find an apartment downtown, so you can be closer to school that's what your friends told you every time you had them over. But you loved the house. You loved that the house held so many memories of your childhood, especially your garden. Even though your mother was a busy woman, she had always made time for you and her flowers. At the age of six, growing flowers with your mother quickly became one of your favorite pastimes. That week you did what everyone would do, changed your shift with Mary Jane to catch the flower thief. 

So, no, selling the house or letting strangers steal your lovely flowers was not one of the many choices. 

Now, Peter Parker was many things, but not a thief. Well, it depended on what you would call stealing. Surely picking a few flowers from a random garden couldn't count as stealing. And God knows he wouldn't do it if he weren't penniless. Trying to survive college and paying for an apartment didn't leave him much. The money The Daily Bugle paid was shit. He had been selling photos for the damn newspaper since high school, but it was no use, Peter had to find a job that paid more than The Daily Bugle. And there was no way he was going to ask Aunt May for money, even though she would be happy to give him some. But that was another day's concern, for now, the only thing he needed to do was be quick. Because he knew if you found out that it was him who was stealing, sorry picking, your flowers he sure wouldn't be able to swing away this time. 

Peter honestly felt guilty about your flowers, they were lovely. And he knew this was a safe neighborhood, so he had no way of paying you back with saving you. He had been visiting Gwen every month since her death. It was one of the few things he could keep up with after he graduated high school. Daisies were Gwen's favorite. Peter knew he could easily find another place to pick the flowers, but he believed that there was something magical about the garden. He felt so much love around the house. Maybe it was a silly thing, but Peter thought Gwen would have loved that garden. 

Y\N had been sitting on her porch, hiding behind the dark blue armchair, actually too anxious to face the flower thief. You felt childish after some time. It was just a few daisies, right? There was no need to act like a crazy woman. As you were getting ready to go back inside, you saw him. He had an average height, brown messy hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned baby blue shirt with a greenish-brown jacket. Y\N's anger turned back the minute she saw him touch the flowers. 

"You, flower thief!" 

A moment before, Peter felt like his whole body was on edge as if bells were ringing in his brain. But he was already late to realize she had been waiting for him and there was no way to run, he wasn't wearing his suit. Where were the damn spider-senses when he needed them the most? So, he just stood there, speechless, his hand hanged above the daisies. She was pretty, as pretty as the flowers before him. Guilt heating his face, Peter couldn't help but stare at you with his eyes wide open like a dumbstruck idiot. He felt like his lunch was climbing its way back up. 

You were now, standing few steps away from him. "You've been stealing my flowers for months!" 

Peter held his hands up in defense. "Look, I can explain." 

Y\N put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. Your heart beating like crazy. Even though it was still bright and you were in the middle of a road, he was a man. A man taller and despite looking skinny, stronger than you. But you hold your face as still as you could.  

"Go on then." 

Peter couldn't find the words to explain. What was he going to say? Sorry, I thought my dead girlfriend would love your flowers so, I've been stealing them, I hope you don't try to kill me. No fucking way. His mouth opened and closed few times, making you sigh. You realized the boy wasn't going to give you any answer. He was probably taking them to his girlfriend or boyfriend. 

"Are they pretty?" you asked, dropping your hands. Peter, very confused, kept on staring at her. You rolled your eyes at how silly he was. "The person you're taking my flowers to." Something at the back of your mind hoped he would say they were for his mother. Now that you were closer you could see the sweet hazel color of his eyes. 

"Um-" His hand went up, scratching his neck. "She is." 

She was.

He shuffled through his pants pockets. "I have a photo-" 

"No." You stopped him. "I want to see if she is pretty enough for my daisies." 

"What?" Peter tried to grasp his head around the idea. 

"I want to see her and tell her that her boyfriend is a thief. C'mon." 

"I don't think-"  Peter was getting anxious, now. How was he supposed to tell you that her girlfriend was dead? 

"Of course you don't think." You started walking. "C'mon, now. Take the flowers." 

Peter didn't know what to do so he went with it. What could go wrong, right? 

"I'm sorry," Peter said after some time. "I have no excuse for what I did." 

His head hung low, watching his steps as he walked. He knew he would stutter if he looked at your face. Peter had a habit of getting tongue-tied around pretty girls. And, well, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Mind you, he wasn't even thinking about Gwen anymore, which made him feel kinda guilty. 

"It's okay." You had your hands in the pockets of your jacket. "My life's been boring lately. You were the only exciting thing, I guess." 

"I'm sure you have more exciting things than me." Peter still didn't look at you but you could see him smiling.

"It's Y\N, by the way." You kept your eyes on him. "If you wanted to know the name of a woman you constantly robbed."

He laughed. "Peter, Peter Parker." His eyes finally met yours. It was ridiculous, how easy it was to just look at his face and feel safe even though he was a stranger. His smile grew even more. It was almost contagious, his smile. He had something about him that made you wanted to scream and purr like a cat at the same time. You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, he was making you weak at the knees. So, you pulled your eyes away from him. 

Pull yourself together, woman! He has a girlfriend.

You were too distracted to realize where was Peter taking you until you arrived. It was the same route you took whenever you felt like talking to your mother. Peter and you were standing just outside of the graveyard. Your head whipped around, turning to Peter. He had a soft smile on his face. 

"Peter, I-" 

"It's okay." 

"No, It's not okay." You took a deep breath, pressing your palms into your eyes. "I'm such a dick." 

"No, you were just mad at me." 

You slouched your shoulder, didn't know what to say. What would even one say in this situation?

"C'mon." Peter's warm hand was gently holding your arm, now. "Let's go see her." 

You didn't talk until you arrived at the tombstone. Peter put the flowers in front of it. 

"Daisies were her favorite." He had a sweet look on his face, he put his hands back into his pockets. 

"They were my mother's favorite, too." You murmured, but Peter could hear you perfectly. "I think that's why I overreacted you picking the flowers. I wasn't thinking." 

"Oh, It's not stealing anymore, then?" He teased. "It's okay, honestly. She would've liked you. You have that fire in you like you could make the world better just with a gesture of your hand. She liked that kind of people, that can light the room with their smile." 

"I think I would've liked her, too." You said, your eyes on the tombstone.

Gwen Stacy. 

Her name was familiar to you. You didn't know where, but you were sure you had heard before. Still, you didn't ask Peter anything, assumed he wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. You didn't say anything until you were out of the graveyard. You knew you would come back tomorrow to see your mother, but with Gwen on your mind. 

The more you looked at his face the more you could see him. Peter wore his heart on his sleeve, he was easy to read. "You blame yourself." You said, nodding your head slowly. You smiled after seeing the face he made. "It's okay, I know the feeling." 

"Your mother?"

"Yeah." 

Neither of you talked for a long time. Peter could tell you weren't ready to talk about it. He knew it wasn't easy to open up, especially to a stranger. It'd been years since he talked about Gwen, so, he knew the feeling, too. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was a message from Mary Jane.  "Just arrived home, you owe me." 

"That's it!" You exclaimed, remembering your talk with Mary Jane. "That's how I knew her name!" 

Peter, looking very confused, asked you. "What?" 

"Gwen, her name was very familiar." Pocketing your phone again. "I have a friend, Mary Jane, who went to the same high school with Gwen. I've seen her in the yearbook. That's where I recognized her name." 

"You know MJ?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed. "We met in Brooklyn, probably four years ago. I think it was very late, some guy was trying to get her number even though she said no, like five times. And I hadn't had the best day of my life. So, I punched the guy and told him to leave her alone. We have been friends ever since."

Peter was amazed. He didn't know how much cooler you could get. 

"You know her, too?" 

"Yeah, We've been friends for a long time. My aunt kinda tried to set us up."  

You laughed. Peter and Mary Jane seemed like two opposite characters. You would never imagine them together. But again, maybe Peter's pretty face was affecting your judgment. You didn't know. He made your mind foggy. At last, you found yourselves at your front yard again. Your eyes wandered over the empty spots that daisies left. 

"Would you like to get a coffee sometime?" Peter was leaning against white fences that surrounded your garden. He had that sweet smile on his face again. "So I can pay you back for daisies."

You bit your lips to stop yourself from smiling so much. "Gwen was pretty enough for them. You can have some once a month when I'm not looking." Peter was feeling like you were about to turn him down. Both of you knew this wasn't really about the damn flowers. But again, Peter was every so often wrong about these kinds of things. "But you know, maybe not Saturdays. I'm usually free for a cup of coffee on Saturdays." Peter was ready to feed himself with only pasta for a week if it meant he would get to see you again. 

You could visibly see Peter's eyes liting up. "Just one cup?" 

You shrugged. "Tea is fine, too." 

"I didn't know MJ had friends like you." He said, intensely watching your every move. 

"Like me?" You were so sure something bad was coming, he was simply too good to be true.

"You know, this beautiful. If I had known, I would have visited her more."

"Wow, you are hiding a monster under that pretty face, don't you?"  

[newtonsheffield]

Since you won’t write the darkest timeline AU I wrote something for it. Here you have Thomas and Anthony:

“You wanted to see me, Uncle?”, Thomas asks while sitting down on the chair opposite to him. Nothing beween them but the big oak desk, the one his mother had hid under before Anthony first kissed her all these years ago.

Anthony tries not to think about that. Just as he tries not to think about the fact that in a better, kinder world this would one day be Thomas office. Alas he doesn’t live in this world. He lives in a world in which his son, his only child, calls him uncle. Where his heir is his brothers son.

Thomas for his part seems unbothered by all of this. He is a man of twenty now, a good man, Anthony knows, having soaked up every information that his wife, or anyone would give him about his son. Anthony knows that he never lets the weak get picked on and that his son always helps the old maid living across from him. It’s a relief to know that his son is a better man than he is (not that it’s particularly hard).

“Well?”, Thomas asks again, sounding more annoyed now. Anthony remebers a time when he was Thomas favorite person. When the boy would throw himself into his arms, when he would take him to eat cakes and try not to flinch when someone else would assume Thomas was his son. Which happened often enough as the boy looked more like him every day. Anthony doesn’t know what changed later on, when the boy would give him nothing but a short nod and an judgemental stare. He isn’t suprised though, Anthony managed to disappoint every single person dear to him, why should his son be any different? The son that thought of him as an uncle.

Anthony knows that his family knows, just as Kates does but nobody in the ton does. Because why should the viscount chose the plain older sister over the diamond, the one he had wed all this years ago? They are all idiots, Anthony thinks.

“You aunt has informed me that you’re planning to look for a wife this season?”, he says and gets a glare in return.

“Well if you must know: I won’t be actively looking for a bride but I do plan to consider it, if someone happens to catch my eye”, Thomas answers truthfully. It’s clear that he rather leave than stay any longer. Anthony hates that his son can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.

“I see”, Anthony says, yet doesn’t want Thomas to leave yet, desperate to prolong any moment with him, as they are so few and far inbetween. He offers instead: “I could lend you some advice, if you want”

At that Thomas laughs outwardly, as if Anthony had just told a particular funny joke. Anthony scoffs. He had never liked not being taken seriously. Even now as a man of almost sixty years he hated it.

“Do not worry, Uncle. If I need advice I will ask my father”, Thomas simply answers with an almost cruel smirk on his lips. It feels like punch in Anthonys stomach.

Charles Woodruff.

Anthony hates to even think of the name. The name his son carries, the man that has what he wants most in the world.

“Well, your father doesn’t know much of the ton, seeing as he is just a simple countyman”, Anthony spits out. He regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth but he can’t take it back now.

Thomas glare hardens and he frowns. It so familiar it makes him shudder, after all he sees it every morning when he looks into the mirror.

“My father may not have a Viscounttitle but I am none the less proud to carry his name”, Thomas says. Anthony tries his best not to let his heart shudder at that. He fails. Curious how many times a heart can break, he finds himself thinking. He briefly wonders once again why his son hates him so but figures he deserves it anyway.

“Of course, I apologize”, he says quickly, hoping they can move the conversation away from Charles Woodruff.

Anthony hates him too much to bear think about him any longer. He is man enough to admit that he only hates him because he was lucky enough to marry Kate. Hates that he had to give her away on her wedding day when he wanted nothing more than to be the groom.

Thomas doesn’t seem to be finished just yet, however.

“I know you are Uncle. And even if my father may only be the second son of a thirds son’s earl to carry a name such as his is still better than the alternative”, he says and every word cuts Anthony to the core. “It certainly is preferable to simply being a lords bastard, don’t you agree?”

Anthony almost chokes on nothing. Thomas knew. He doesn’t know why it suprises him that much. The similarity is too striking. The same hair, the same eyes, the nose. The way Anthony looked at his mother and his mother looked at him. Of course he had figured it out.

He doesn’t say anthing, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t cofirm it either. He just sits there and wishes things were different. But they aren’t.

“I was just trying to help”, he mumbles quietly. Thomas snorts. The boy that normally is so full of kindness and smile gone in front of his real father.

“Don’t worry you helped enough already. I learned enough from you. You taught me so many things. I will be aware to not marry the sister of the woman I love and I will be aware to not leave both woman brokenhearted”, Thomas tells him sarcasm dripping from every word, the anger so clear in his voice that Anthony can’t help but flinch. Every word is true and there is nothing he can say to defend himself.

Thomas gets up to angry to stay any longer. Anthony doesn’t stop him, doesn’t have the energy for it left.

“If you excuse me I promised mother to meet her for tea. I hope that’s alright with you, father”, Thomas spits the last word in his face and it hurts. It feels like losing his father over again, only now he is losing his son.

Thomas closes the door with enough force that the shelves shake and leaves Anthony alone in his office.

It’s the first time Thomas has called him father.

Oh GOD!

This was everything I never knew I wanted.

Heartbreaking, beautiful, Amazing Perfect! Show stopping!

Because of course Thomas realized when he was about 14 that he was not Charles Woodruff’s son. And of course than means he knew what happened. Knows what probably happens when his uncle and mother can’t be found for hours at a time at family events. Knows what it means that Sarah Bridgerton is far lighter haired than the other cousins.

And he resents his true father. Because his mother always looks so sad when she re-emerges, her eyes flickering over the crowd. And he vowed he would never never be the man his father was.