#posting on here bc i wanted to write down a few words and nowhere else felt right

[happyhauntt]

everything i touch turns sick with sadness — nikolai lantsov

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: anya still believes, sometimes, that nikolai made a mistake in marrying her. he’ll spend every day for the rest of their lives proving her wrong.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: serious angst, miscarriage, pre-established relationship, hurt/comfort. this one is fucking painful. thank you for voting on it i may never recover from writing it! title is from bigger than the whole sky by taylor swift. this is a little au where nikolai is still king post ROW and there's no demon bc i haven't read ROW in a minute and i didn't want to fuck up any details. also i take prompts pls send some i love them

─── word count: 3k.

     The Grand Palace is always too cold. It’s all cavernous rooms and long, draughty hallways like a rabbit warren leading to nowhere. Exploring these hallowed halls had been fun when she was small, and there were surprises lurking just out of sight. Now Anya shivers as she turns a corner, a chilly gust of wind streaking down the corridor past her.

     For somewhere so opulent, with its vaulted ceilings and gold-gilt wallpaper, one would be forgiven for assuming the insulation would be better, but even now, as the depths of winter give way to a pleasant spring, even with a fire burning in every hearth, the Grand Palace is far too cold.

     Genya rests a hand on Anya's elbow as they walk. They are heading into the last meeting in a long day, and Anya is certain she's not the only one who feels exhausted. Genya has her own things to worry about, her own duties to fulfil, but she’d taken one look at Anya’s expression, at the telltale tug of her lips, as they passed one another in the corridor and declared that accompanying her queen to this meeting was of the utmost importance. Everything else could wait.

     (It can’t, really, and Zoya will likely be very cross, but Anya cannot deny that she appreciates the company. Tolya is a darling, and follows her like a second shadow, but Genya understands the tiredness that takes root in your bones and refuses to leave. Ruling Ravka comes at a cost, Anya knew that when she agreed to marry Nikolai, but Saints, what she wouldn't give for a nap right now.)

     She meets Genya's concerned glance, and offers a weary smile. "You could set this place on fire and I imagine it would still be freezing."

     Genya chuckles. "Don't tempt me." Her kefta is buttoned all the way to her throat, and Anya briefly wishes she could wear her own.

     She does have one, embroidered in the palest blue of the Tidemakers and tucked at the very back of her wardrobe, though she very rarely has cause to bring it out. She was always going to be a hard sell as queen. So many nobles had made their prejudice known regarding her disability, while her distaste for Ravka is well-documented. She never could have imagined becoming its queen. She’d never wanted to.

     But she is, and Nikolai fought for that, so being Grisha remains a secret shared between only her closest friends. The nobles don’t need another reason to dislike her.

     Though she suspects Genya is rather warmer than she is right now.

     The War Room is already occupied when they reach it. An assortment of a few military personnel, seated around the table. This meeting isn't terribly important — if it were, Nikolai would be here — but Anya had received intelligence from one of the reconnaissance scouts at the Fjerdan border, and a discussion with the relevant officials felt prudent before any further escalation.

     She murmurs a greeting as she takes her seat at the head of the table. Her commanders stumble to their feet, "Moya tsaritsa" echoing from their mouths. A chill runs down Anya's spine. No matter how many years pass, she suspects she will never get used to the title.

     Maps of Ravka sprawl across the surface of the table, creased and yellowing at the edges. Small figurines depicting their troops are dotted about the place, though the majority are clustered near the border with Fjera now that the Fold is gone. Tolya posts himself at her back, just behind her chair, while Genya sits beside her, shoulders tight as soldiers begin to whisper.

     It has been years since Genya was scarred by the Darkling, but she is still a source of malicious gossip in the Grand Palace.

     A sharp glare from Anya silences them, and the meeting gets underway. As one of the commanders begins recounting a report from the Fjerdan scouts, Anya does her best to pay attention. His voice is dull and droning, like a drill boring holes into the back of her skull, but she nods at the right times. She knows that report from memory. She takes her role very seriously.

     When Nikolai made her General of the First Army, not long before they were married, few had found cause to argue. There'd been dissent about their marriage, concerns about her becoming queen, but not many could deny that she was an excellent choice to lead the First Army. Anya had been one of them, after all; discharged with honours after her injury, she'd ranked highly, served on the frontlines with them all, and she'd been a key figure in the Darkling's defeat.

     (Well, she’d really debate how essential she’d been in that scenario, because she’d felt particularly useless at the time, but regardless, she’d been honoured for it.)

     It doesn’t matter what she did, or who she saved. She will always have something to prove. Her stomach tightens a little as the memories come to her, unbidden, like moths to lantern light.

     Anya’s finger trails absent lines along the edge of the table. It is startling, really, how easy it is to forget sometimes.

     The civil war. The people she loved, and the people she lost. Blood in the sand. Days spent tortured in a Shu laboratory. Blood in her mouth. There are mornings when she wakes on a choked sob, red-rimmed eyes already watery with unshed tears. She can still feel the ash from the Darkling’s funeral pyre on her tongue. Her nightmares root through her and leave her half-ragged. Still fresh as the day they happened, no matter how many years sit between those days and these.

     Her husband wakes when she does, like two ends of a leather cord. If she tugs, he feels it, so attuned to her pitch-dark soul. Black-tipped fingers curl into her hair as he holds her close. He has nightmares, too. Some scars never heal. Anya knows this too well.

     Other days are different. Most days, now that the years have passed. Life demands her attention, won’t allow her to dwell on the dead for too long anymore. The world around her rushes by, and Ravka will not sit and wait for its rulers to be ready. The Grand Palace is a constant flurry of activity. 

     Her stomach is a raw nerve, a jagged edge pulling inside of her. She tries not to wince at it. The memories are painful still, yes, but she is used to breathing through them. Grief will always sit in the shadows, waiting for its moment to pounce — but there is light, too. There is love. A warm hand to hold, friends to weather the storm with. Memories, good and bad, line the halls of their home like patchwork tapestries. Every room has a ghost.

     The commander to her left says her name as he outlines his proposal going forward. Genya shoots her a concerned look, but Anya merely nods as he speaks, her lips pressed together in a thin line. In, out. Her lungs flood with air as she breathes deeply, trying to dispel the knot in her stomach, but the thread of pain only pulls tighter and tighter with every inhale.

     She touches her palm gently to her abdomen, the action concealed by the table. Another sensation strikes her, this one sharper than the others, and she fights to hold her breath as it passes.

     This is familiar. This carries with it a different grief, hollow and hopeless. Her fingers curl into the fabric of her dress. This she knows, intimately. Her heart sinks.

     The meeting can’t have lasted more than an hour by the time it is over, but each moment felt like a lifetime. With a plan of action decided between them, her commanders bid her goodbye. Anya remains seated as they file out of the room. From the corner of her eye, she watches Tolya close the door behind them.

     Genya leans in, latching a hand onto Anya’s forearm. Her eyes are bright with concern. “Anya, are you alright? You hardly said a word near the end. That’s not like you.”

     Anya allows her eyes to fall closed as her friend reaches out. The palm Genya presses against her forehead is soft and cool, and Anya fights the urge to lean into the Tailor’s comforting touch.

     “I’m fine, Genya.” It is easy to brush off her own discomfort. Anya knows what is happening, she’s sure of it, and she will deal with it in time.

     It has happened before, after all. The sensation is as familiar as the sharp ache in her knee, the scars on her flesh, the blackened tips of Nikolai’s fingers.

     Tolya kneels beside her chair. His frown is so loud that she can hear it without needing to look at him. “I can hear your heart racing, and you’ve been wincing every so often. Is your knee troubling you?”

     Another pain spikes through her like a lightning strike. Anya releases a slow breath and shakes her head. “No, it’s not my knee. I believe that was the last of my meetings, so I’ll retire to my chambers for the rest of the day.” She pushes herself up from the chair, faltering only slightly. Tolya’s hand on her waist is steady and sure. “Send a healer, but please be discreet. It’s nothing serious, I assure you. And please… no one should bother Nikolai.”

     “Anya, if you’re unwell, he’ll want to know.” Genya watches her as a mourner watches the grave.

     “I’m not unwell.” Despite her words, Anya’s voice still trembles. “I will be fine. I promise.”

     She’s just about to get out of the bath when she hears the door to their bedchamber clatter open and crash into the wall. Her heart gives a dull, heavy thud as she hears her husband’s panicked voice. She has no energy left to summon any frustration at Genya for giving her away.

     When Anya emerges from the bathroom, a silk robe tied loosely on her slight frame, Nikolai is still standing in the middle of their bedchamber. His chest is heaving as if he ran all the way to her, golden cheeks aflush. His eyes are soft and worried as he watches her fiddle with the ties of her robe. Saints, when is the last time she looked like this? Her cheeks seem hollow, purple bruises like pressed violets beneath her eyes. The weariness in her reminds him of long nights during the war, when he’d grip her tightly enough to leave his fingerprints on her skin and it seemed the sun would never rise again.

     She’s drained. As if that spark of Anya, that light he’d fallen in love with so long ago, has been snuffed out entirely. The woman before him is a hollow shell. Had it been only a few hours since he saw her last? This morning he’d chased her laughing through the sitting room and kissed her against the wall until Zoya dragged him away to attend to his duties. He can still hear her giggling, a sweet phantom sound.

     A servant emerges from the bathroom behind Anya looking upset, carrying a wicker basket overflowing with damp towels. She keeps her eyes fixed on the rug. Anya dismisses her with a small smile and the servant scurries out of their bedchamber, dropping into a rushed curtsey as she passes Nikolai.

     Anya doesn’t look at him until the door clicks shut.

     The look she sends him is enough to shatter his heart completely. Her mouth quivers perilously at the edges, but she’s smiling at him, damn it, as if soothing his frayed nerves is of the utmost importance.

     He doesn’t breathe as she crosses the room to settle gingerly on the chaise, fearful that any sudden movements might spook her. Her honey-coloured hair is swept back, a few tendrils hanging limply around her gaunt face, accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones.

     “What happened?” His voice is little more than a gravelly whisper. The room feels impossibly heavy. “Genya mentioned you were unwell. Why didn’t you tell me?”

     Anya hugs herself tightly. The sight makes his heart ache. “I wanted to be sure, first. And I am.” The words are quiet. Nikolai doesn’t think he’s ever heard her sound so small.

     He drops to his knees in front of her. Reaching out, he clasps her freezing hands between his own. “Sure about what?”

     She looks up at him through damp eyelashes. Her eyes are bloodshot, her hands are limp in his grip, lips cracked and bitten, and yet he wonders how there was ever a day he didn’t love her. How foolish he’d been as a child, to look at her and not immediately surrender his heart.

     When Anya speaks again, it is little more than a ragged whisper. “I lost the baby.”

     Nikolai blinks at her. His lips have turned numb. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

     Anya shakes her head roughly. “I didn’t want to tell you yet. I didn’t want to get your hopes up again.”

     Grief sits between them like a depthless chasm, and suddenly he understands. Nikolai reaches up to cup her face with one hand, sweeping his thumb over the tear-stained skin of her cheek. She sinks into his touch, and it takes everything he has not to splinter into a thousand mournful pieces.

     They both know what happened before. There have been three pregnancies since they started trying two years, and each has left them stained with heartache. After the second, the healers informed them of the harrowing reality; that Anya may well not be able to have children. Not after the beatings she took in captivity.

     Some scars never heal. This, they both know too well.

     “You should have told me.” He wants to scream, to rage, to weep for her. He wants to scrape away all of her pain and take it for himself, to ensure she never hurts again.

     “I didn’t want to. When you didn’t know… When I kept it to myself, I was the only one who could hope and dream and pray about it,” she tells him. She won’t burden him with her dreams, of the golden-haired girl she sees when she closes her eyes or the little boy whose laugh sounds exactly like Nikolai’s.

     A desperate whimper slips out and suddenly he’s on the chaise beside her, sweeping her into a tight embrace. He rubs her back in gentle circles as she buries her sobs in his chest, and drops his lips to her hair as if that will stifle his own tears.

     “Nik, what if I can’t have children?” Her voice is muffled by his shirt, but no amount of fabric could ever disguise the pain of it. “Ravka… Ravka depends on it.” Once upon a time, it would have amused him to hear her care about what Ravka wants. Once upon a time, not that long ago, she didn’t care if this Saints-forsaken country fell into the sea. Now his heart stutters painfully. “You’re going to need heirs, and what if I can’t do it?”

     He wonders how long she has harboured these quiet doubts. How long she has let them fester silently inside her chest. It is so rare for Anya to voice her insecurities. She is a soldier, through and through; stoic and stern, facing the storm with unflinching resolve. When he’d rescued her from captivity and she found her future altered beyond recognition, she hadn’t faltered.

     She is not invincible. He knows the softness of her heart beneath all that armour.

     “Anya…” he murmurs.

     “I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret ever choosing me.” The confession spills out of her quickly, like she’s afraid she won’t say it if she hesitates. When she pulls back, skin blotchy and eyes shining, her expression is almost surprised. “I don’t think I’d survive that.”

     A fierce anger rises in Nikolai’s chest, but not at her. Never at her. His eyes burn with ferocity as he kisses her, harder than he means to, hard enough to bruise. He kisses her as if his lips against hers will make her believe it, as if she can feel the love overflowing from his heart. A heart not big enough to hold it all in without bursting.

     He pulls away, breathing heavily, and presses his forehead against hers. His hand curls around the back of her neck, fingers tangled in loose strands of her hair.

     “Loving you will never be a mistake,” he rasps. “Not to me. Do you understand? I will spend the rest of our lives proving that to you.”

     She shudders against him, half a sob building in her chest. “Nik.”

     He can feel his heartbeat in his throat. There aren’t enough words in any language to convey what she means to him, but he has to try. “And children, children with you, would be lovely. I’d cherish them with all my heart. But only if you want them. Not because you feel it’s your duty, but because you want them. It’s your choice, milaya. And if you do, and we cannot have them, well—” He shrugs, a fleeting smirk passing over his face. “I’m the King. We will figure it out. ”

     Her laugh is small, quiet, but it is there. He wants to bottle the sound and keep it forever.

     “The important thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “is that you are safe, and healthy, and I love you. I love you so much, Anya. Never doubt that for a moment.”

     She crumbles then, collapsing into him as the last of her strength dissolves. He knows she is in pain, and her heart is breaking, and so is his. She weeps quietly as she curls up in his lap and he holds her as tightly as he can, stroking gently through her hair.

     Some scars never heal, no matter the time that passes. But these are wounds they will bear together, and if ever Nikolai is able to ease Anya’s heartache, then by the Saints, there is no force in the world that could stop him.

[fridayyy-13th]

20 questions for fic writers

tysm @three-magpies-in-a-trenchcoat for the tag!!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 4

What's your total Ao3 word count? 13,296

What fandoms do you write for? i used to write for the Hermitcraft fandom, but i've discontinued the one fic i started for it and moved on to The Magnus Archives. i've got a couple story ideas for other fandoms, but idk if they'll go anywhere.

What are your top five fics by kudos? well, i've only got four! but from most- to least-kudosed, there's: - Double Trouble (Hermitcraft, rated G, incomplete multichapter) - Know What Can't Be Shown, Feel What Can't Be Known (TMA, rated T, oneshot) - Time Enough to Spend Some Time Alone (TMA, rated T, oneshot) - Here, Nowhere, Somewhere With You (TMA, rated G, oneshot) and i'm totally not salty my two most kudosed fics are an incomplete work and something i posted at 3am, respectively.

Do you respond to comments? hell yeah! i love answering comments <3

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? gotta say Time Enough, bc it's more refined than its predecessor, Know What Can't Be Shown (man i really need to stop giving my fics such long titles, i always end up shortening them when referring to them). but for reference, both are pre-Unknowing jmart kiss fics; it's a favored headcanon of mine. Time Enough also spends more time musing on how Jon and Martin are feeling—that is, they feel Bad. Absolutely Terrible. sad and scared, both for the Unknowing and for each other.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Here, Nowhere, Somewhere, absolutely. the ending itself is pretty open, but Jon and Martin have reunited post-MAG 200, admitted they still love each other after its events, and found themselves Somewhere Else. it's the most hopeful.

Do you get hate on fics? not yet, thankfully. i'm not a well-known enough author for that lol.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i do not! and i doubt i ever will. props to everyone who does, though.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? i don't really write crossovers, at least none i ever planned to publish, but i do have a couple fusion AUs in the works (that is, taking one story's premise and combining it w/the characters of another). and funnily enough, both are based on songs.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? i sure hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated? no. though if someone offered to, i'd be honored!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? technically? a friend of mine and i made a couple AUs for a few different MCYT fandoms that never really went anywhere, but i've never co-authored something that's made it to publishing.

What's your all time favorite ship? probably jonmartin. i've read a ridiculous amount of fanfic for them, and i think pretty much all my WIPs feature it if both Jon and Martin are there (sometimes i'll make them queerplatonic, and sometimes they'll be part of a poly ship like jongerrymartin, but jmart tends to be pretty Do Not Separate in my mind lmao).

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? ages ago i was reading this one rom-com webcomic where two people wound up as roommates bc the landlord accidentally rented the single apartment to both of them, which i thought was a really cute premise, but then BAM there was some really awful transphobia in it. when called out in the comments, the author doubled down, so i snatched up the concept and decided "i'm gonna make this t4t out of SPITE." but uh i've found spite doesn't work very well as a fuel source for my work, and i can get the same awkward domesticity/mutual pining out of a safehouse fic, so it'll probably just stay buried in the WIPs folder.

What are your writing strengths? dialogue. or at least, making a character's dialogue sound like their voice. vocabulary, things like stammering or using filler words, cutting oneself off or pausing a bunch, that sort of thing. though sometimes the dialogue itself feels a little clunky. i also think i'm rather good at writing emotional scenes, especially once i'm in the editing stage of things.

What are your writing weaknesses? over-editing. my utter beloathed. i sometimes get really caught up in trying to make everything as clear as possible, when that just makes the work 5,000 words too long and takes way more time to do. i'm trying to be better about it.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i think it's neat! but if you're monolingual you should read up on writing bilingual/multilingual characters beforehand, don't just wing it.

First fandom you wrote for? probably Pokémon? i'm not entirely sure.

Favorite fic you've written? Time Enough, hands-down. (though uh, hypothetically, if i wanted to make some small edits to it, would it be weird to do so? especially seven months after posting? there's a handful of lines i wish i'd phrased a bit differently.)

tags (no pressure!!): @radical-dadical-rafael @dramaticdads @winterswrandomness @ollieofthebeholder @ladydragonkiller @incandescentis @cornmazehater @jewishjon

[ragazza-paradiso]

not to be cheesy but since it’s past midnight here, it’s officially my 5 year anniversary of getting out of the psychiatric ward. i am not 100% better but i’ve come so far since then. back then i honestly didn’t think i would even be alive in a few years, let alone holding down a full time management job and making plans for my future. i don’t even take any antipsychotics or antidepressants anymore. i know there is always a chance of relapsing and i don’t want to get too ahead of myself but i’m very proud of myself for working hard to get better and actually getting better because of it. the summer of 2017 was the worst time of my whole life but if i can get through that and come out the other side, then i really truly can get through anything else that comes my way. i just need to take it day by day.

[lovely-angst]

Hi I saw your post can I request a scenario with dabi and female reader having an argument vut with fluff ending, thank you so much 💗

a/n: this took so long bc i couldn’t sit and write for more than like 10 minutes a day. but this fic is  l e n g t h y  bc this is the kinda of angst I like hehe. also, it’s hard writing for dabi! his character is so complicated!

tw: arguing

genre: fluff and angst

pairing: dabi x reader

summary: you and dabi get into a heated argument and trying to fix the relationship is harder than it seems.

word count: 3.5k

03.09.2021

-

It was probably a bad idea that you ran out of the house at night, but you felt as if you had no other choice. You and Dabi had just gotten into a heated argument—the most heated argument the two of you had ever had actually.

It might have been over something stupid, but it had been running through your mind for the past few weeks, so it couldn’t have been that stupid. Not to you at least.

Your eyes were stained red from all of the crying you had done prior, but every time you thought back to the words the two of you threw at each other, you couldn’t help the blurriness of the tears that filled your eyes.

“If you’re so miserable with me, why don’t you just leave!” Dabi shot at you as anger filled your entire body. 

“I can’t!” you shouted back before sadness washed over you, tears quickly rising to your eyes as you stared over at your boyfriend. “I have nowhere else to go anymore because I left everything behind for you!” 

“I never asked you to! Maybe you should’ve thought about that when you decided to mess around with someone like me.”

“You didn’t have to ask! I did it because I love you! But you wouldn’t understand because you don’t care about me!” You shouted angrily at Dabi, who was fuming at you with clenched fists, 

“You’re right, I don’t care. Get out of my fucking place.” 

Staring down at your hands, you let out a sigh. You were starting to miss Dabi. Even after everything that had just happened, your heart was still full of love for him. There was no way he meant it, right?

It wasn’t that you were miserable with Dabi, you loved him with all your heart. You had just wanted him to put more effort into the relationship, into you. He was always away doing whatever work he had to do and you missed him—Dabi was all you had left.

Reaching into the pockets of your light jacket, you frowned upon only finding a few napkins and empty wrappers from whatever treat you had snacked on. In a rush to leave the apartment, you had forgotten to take your phone and wallet, leaving you with nothing.

Sniffling, you glanced around at the empty streets, trying to find a warm place to stay at. It wasn’t terribly cold, but cold enough where you would love to be someplace warm. Going home wasn’t an option, seeing how Dabi had just kicked you out, but going back to your parents was an even worse option. They had given you an earful about Dabi and you were practically disowned when you left with him.

It was just like any other day. The two of you were on his roughed-up couch that so happened to fit the two of you perfectly. Dabi sat behind you as you sat in between his slender legs in a comfortable silence. 

He had this place for himself when he didn’t feel like staying overnight at the league and it used to feel so big when it was him alone. But recently, you’ve been occupying this space with him which made everything feel so much warmer. 

And he told you. “You should move in with me,” he said, earning a small smile from you. 

But you knew it couldn’t be that simple. 

“My parents don’t want me around you anymore,” you told him softly in his arms. “They said you’re not a person I should be spending my time with.” 

“Well, you’re old enough to be making your own decisions,” he huffed and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am,” you told him, finding his hands and gently running your fingers along them.

“But if I decided to move in with you, they’ll disown me. Cut me off from the family,” a heavy sigh escapes your lips, slumping back on your boyfriend’s chest. 

“Yeah, but we can be our own family,” he said before a small wave of silence fell upon the two of you. Turning around to face him, you couldn’t help the sad smile on your face, “Could we really though? I mean, you’re busy and if I’m no longer with my family, I’d be alone.” 

“Trust me, doll,” he starts with a smirk, pushing hair away from your face, “we will make it work.”

You stared up into his blue eyes hesitantly. Dabi was no family guy. He wasn’t even the type of guy to settle with someone, yet here he was asking you to move in with him to be his family. 

But you loved him too much. 

Placing a gentle hand on his chest, you lean forward to press a kiss onto his lips before slightly pulling away, “Promise me you’ll take care of me?”

Dabi let out a small chuckle, grinning before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Promise.”

You were really alone now.

-

Panting heavily, Dabi stared at the door you had just slammed shut as you fled from the apartment the two of you shared. Good riddance, he thought, storming over toward the bedroom to cool himself down—his flames were about to burst out any minute now with how angry and irritated he was.

He had already told you that he couldn’t be that perfect boyfriend who could do all these amazing things for you. You knew this and you had told him it was alright because you love him. So what was that back then?

Roughly running his hands through his hair, he sat back against the bed before letting out a heavy sigh and rubbing his eyes out of frustration. Maybe telling you to get out of the apartment was a bit much, but Dabi knew you’d eventually find your way back. You always did.

Grabbing his phone from beside him, Dabi decided to shoot you a text telling you to come back because it would be a hassle to take care of you if you got sick—his way of telling you he cared.

It was late in the night already and Dabi was tired from everything. He wished that you could’ve been there for him to hold when he drifted off into a dreamless slumber, but you weren’t because of him.

Walking over to the front door, Dabi made sure the door was unlocked if you had decided to sneak your way back in. Which he secretly hoped you would.

Upon opening the fridge, Dabi’s heart clenched once he saw all of the food you had cooked and stored away for him with little notes written on them.

‘I know you hate fish, so this doesn’t contain any fish!’

‘This dish has a lot of meat so eat up to get all your protein in because you’ve been working so hard <3′ 

‘This one is my favorite, so try it out and see if you like it just as much as me :^)’

Did you have to be so stupidly cute?

Dabi was weak against you, and he knew it too. Heating up the dish you deemed your favorite, he walked over towards the small dinner table that would fit the two of you perfectly.

Staring down at the dish, Dabi let out a chuckle—of course this dish was your favorite. And it tasted like home too, something he seemed to enjoy more of when you were here too. 

He really did miss you too.

It had been a week since you moved in with Dabi. He enjoyed coming home to you sharing the space with him and making it more homely and warm. Dabi was quite ecstatic that you agreed to live with him, but there was only one problem.

You didn’t seem so...happy. 

Dabi would often catch you staring off into space or constantly staring out the window as you let your thoughts run wild. And when he would finally build up the courage to ask, you’d respond with a smile.

“No, I am happy to be here with you,” you’d remind him softly, “I just kinda miss my family.”

And though Dabi knew that, he couldn’t help but want to be selfish and keep you here to himself. You were his family now and you chose to be his a part of this family when you agreed to live with him. 

“But we’re our own family now and we’ll take care of each other,” you told him with a smile despite your sadness.

You seemed to always find the right words to soothe Dabi’s thoughts. You were great at helping him—even when he couldn’t seem to help you at all.

Twitching awake, Dabi glanced around confused. When did he fall asleep? His discarded dish was still on the table right where he left it. He must’ve fallen asleep when his thoughts consumed him.

Glancing over at his phone, Dabi frowned when two hours had passed and there was no response from you. You didn’t even bother looking at his text. Were you seriously that upset? Letting out a sigh, Dabi decided to call you instead, hoping to get you home safe.

It wasn’t until he heard your familiar ringtone playing from the living room that Dabi had realized that you left your phone. Which meant you were out somewhere alone and defenseless in this sketchy neighborhood. It had already been two hours. Who knows what could have happened to you.

He always felt as if you were so small and so fragile that it would be so easy to break you.

“Fuck,” Dabi mumbled as he ran into the bedroom to grab his hoodie and a mask before taking off searching for you. Even with most of his skin covered, he could still feel the chill of the late night.

Where could you be at a time like this?

As he ran through the quiet neighborhood, he was glad to see that no one was out and about doing whatever shady business they had going on. But to Dabi’s surprise, there you were, just a few feet away from the apartment.

You sat crouched into a tiny ball as you hid your face in your knees, looking extra small and extra fragile.

Dabi let out a relieved sigh before gently walking towards you, his feet tapping against the concrete gently before stopping in front of you.

“(Name),” he called as gently as he could, “It’s cold out. Let’s go back,” but you didn’t budge. “Stop being stubborn and let’s go back,” Dabi’s voice was laced with irritation before you finally moved, which should have been a great sign. But seeing how you shifted away from him, bothered him more than he liked to admit.

“I don’t want to go back,” you say weakly, curling in on yourself. Dabi scoffed, “Then are you going to stay out here in the cold? I know you have nowhere else to go.”

Your head raised slowly to glance up at him, a heartbroken look on your face before you stood up to face him. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to come back. You promised me you’d take care of me, but look where we are now.”

Turning away from him, you let out a sigh, “I think this relationship is too much for you right now, Dabi. You’re not ready to have another person in your life.”

And your words seem to hurt Dabi more than he had expected. It was just an argument. Things like this always happen in relationships, right? So how come things were turning for the worse?

“You’re dramatic, (Name),” Dabi chuckled. “Just come back and it will be better in the morning.”

He didn’t know how to fix this anymore.

“We can’t act like that argument didn’t happen, Dabi. That was the worst argument we’ve had, and it really hurt me,” you continued, lips quivering as you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears.

“Just come back to the apartment,” Dabi tried once more, but with a surprising calm. “It’s not safe out here and it’s warmer.”

You hated how he could crumble your resolve with a few simple words—you were head over heels for this man. Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you dig your shoes into the ground, “Only for tonight. If things don’t work out, then I’ll find a new place to stay at.”

And though your words carried a heavyweight, Dabi was just glad you agreed to come back. Maybe if he snuggled up into you when the two of you went to bed, you’d forgive him.

But when he saw you setting up your bed on the couch, he realized that this was a bigger problem than he had discovered.

“What are you doing?” Watching you fluff out your pillow, you quietly got into your makeshift bed, bringing the covers towards your cheeks, “I’m going to bed,” you replied, shutting your eyes as you turned into the couch.

“But why are you on the couch?” 

“Because I don’t want to be around you right now,” you mumble into the blankets, hiding your face from your boyfriend as he stood there irritated.

“You’re being such a baby right now,” Dabi responds angrily, but you only replied with a hum, further irking the male as he trudged towards the bedroom and thankfully, shutting off the lights for you on his way.

It hurt to see that Dabi wasn’t as upset as you were about this problem the two of you were having. You wanted to fix this because you love and care for him, but you couldn’t say the same about him. Snuggling deeper into your blanket, you hoped that this night “apart” would help the two of you sleep on the problem and be able to face each other the next day.

-

Your constant stirring had woken you up from your sleep, though you weren’t able to get much sleep anyways. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was the fight that you and Dabi had gotten into.

Anything you dreamt of seemed to be a replay of what had led to now. You couldn’t escape.

Sighing, you let your arm hang off the couch only to have the back of your hand bump into something. Gently, your hand brushes against the foreign object before your eyes widen when your fingers brush across something soft.

Dabi?

Gently turning, your eyes land on Dabi, who asleep on the floor beside you with a small blanket covering his taller frame. Your fingers that landed themselves in his hair gently ran across down to his face, brushing along his scars as he slept peacefully beneath your hand.

Watching Dabi sleep was something you could never get tired of. He always looked so at peace, so relaxed and so carefree and you couldn’t help but wish for him to always have a restful sleep. You just wanted him to be happy.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the hand coming up to brush across your own before they gently held your smaller one in yours. 

Words weren’t exchanged as the two of you laid there in silence as Dabi gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. A small but very comforting affection for the two of you—something you didn’t know you were craving.

“Did I wake you?” your words finally cut the silence as you laid there, basking in the feel of his hand in yours. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“It didn’t feel right sleeping in the bed alone,” A strange confession coming from the man who seemed to strive alone, but it was sweet hearing it from him, feeling how his hand gently caressed yours.

Gently prying your hand from his, you noticed how he tensed slightly before you brought your fingers back to his face gently, running across his scars once more.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

His words cut the thick silence that filled the space between the two of you. Your hand stopped right above his eyes before your brows arched sadly as you listened to him. “We’re our own family now. We’re all we’ve got.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you laid flat against the cushions of the couch, staring up at the dark ceiling above you, “I love you, Dabi, but this isn’t what a family is supposed to feel like. You promised you’d take care of me, but...I just feel like I’ve been doing it all on my own.”

Your eyes stung with tears that began to surface as your emotions came crashing back down on you.

You love Dabi, you really do, but you deserved to be treated better.

“I’m not miserable with you Dabi, I love being with you. It’s just hard when you’re all that I have left and you’re not here too,” you reminded gently, trying not to upset him. But even now, he remained silent.

“If we want things to work, I need you to talk to me,” you were met with silence and you had thought Dabi had fallen asleep but when you turned to glance at him and saw his blue eyes staring off into the distance, you knew it couldn’t work.

Turning back into the couch, you pulled your blankets up towards your cheek once more, letting your tears run freely, “I’ll be gone by the morning. Thanks for everything.”

Dabi laid there listening to your quiet sobs as you cried yourself to sleep on the couch beside him. And to be short, Dabi was freaking the fuck out.

He wanted to say something, anything, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Everything he wanted to tell you was caught and shoved back instead of flowing from his lips.

Sitting up after hearing your breathing even out, Dabi hovered over your, watching how your tears glistened with the faint moonlight and the way your breath would hitch every so often.

He really did love you, even when he couldn’t express himself to you.

Letting the back of his fingers glide across your skin gently, Dabi allowed himself to relax as he watched your peaceful state. You really did deserve so much better than a villain like him.

But he wanted to be selfish.

“You deserve so much more than this,” Dabi’s fingers run across your delicate features as he watched the way your chest rises and falls, “but I can’t give you anything.

“I can’t do anything for you like you do for me. All I do is get upset at you because you just want me to show you a little bit of love when you give me unconditional love.”

“I won’t get mad at you for leaving. I wish I could’ve given you a better family, but I don’t even know what a real family is.” Quietly standing, Dabi leans down to kiss your temple gently before giving you one last glance.

“You were the best thing to have happened to me.” his footsteps fade into the distance as he walked back into the empty bedroom.

Your eyes open once Dabi left, leaving you in the living room as your heart clenched with every word and emotion he managed to squeeze out from his conflicted heart.

You just couldn’t leave him.

-

The birds were chirping freely outside beyond the walls of his small apartment, which meant you had already left. 

With an arm over his eyes, Dabi tried not to think about it—about you, but how could he not when he was so in love with you? 

“ugh, fuck,” he grumbled as he tried sitting up in his bed, only to feel something restricting him. Peeling his arm from his eyes, Dabi glanced down only to be surprised to see you clinging onto his waist as you hid your face in the side of his chest. “(Name)?”

A sleepy whine left your lips as you moved your head around before adjusting yourself beside him, breath evening out once more as you continued to doze off.

He wasn’t sure when or how you got into the bed with him, but he thought maybe this was God’s last gift to him—allowing him to have you in his arms once more before his world would continue to drag him along the ends of the Earth. 

And once Dabi intertwined his limbs with yours, he fell asleep just as fast as he woke up. 

It wasn’t until he felt something weaving in his hair that he woke up for the second time that morning. His tired eyes slowly opened before he turned his head towards the body beside him, eyes catching onto yours before a fragile why fell from his lips. 

“I know it’s hard for you to tell me how you feel and I’m sorry for pressuring you into doing it. But I heard everything you said last night. Thank you.” You place a gentle hand on his chest before lifting yourself onto his chest, your eyes focused on his vulnerable expression.

“It’s hard for the both of us, but if you’re willing to give a little bit more into this small family of ours, we’ll be just fine.”

Dabi couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he brought his hands to the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths mingled, “anything for you, doll.”

[headheartbellarke]

I Wish You Would | CHARLIE GILLESPIE

Requested by anon: “hello🌼 could u please write a charlie x reader imagine when he posts a picture on his instagram story with a girl to makes his crush jealous, but she end up distancing herself from him bc she's hurt and respect what she thinks is his relationship” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 2,445 WARNING(s): angst w a happy ending, some language SUMMARY: “I wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as I'd live."

A/N: hi, everyone!! really, really sorry that this took so long. haven’t had the best march tbh, and writer’s block is a bitch. && this isn’t very good, either, but i had to get something done. love u <3

TEN HOURS EARLIER

“And… post!” Charlie taps his phone, grinning brightly.

Owen cheers from behind him, his voice meshing into the humdrum of the bar they’re currently at. “I’m so proud of you!”

His friend laughs, spinning around in the bar stool to face him. “She’ll finally understand what it feels like!”

Owen nods frantically, taking another sip of the drink in his hand.

Charlie copies his movement – a part of him knows that he is absolutely hammered, but the bigger part of him doesn’t care. He’s had a long day, and he deserves this.

Besides, how else would he and his best friend have thought of this wonderful plan if they didn’t have a billion drinks in their system?

PRESENT

A knock on the door pulls Y/N from her thoughts. “Come in!” She yells, but her voice comes out feeble and hoarse, probably from all the crying she’s been doing for the past hour.

As the door swings open, her best friend, Savannah, pokes her head in. “Hey, babe. You all right?”

Y/N sniffs. “M’fine.”

Savannah enters the room, closing the door softly behind her. She walks to the window, opening the curtains, and Y/N groans when light floods into the previously dark room.

She sits on the bed beside Y/N, and Y/N rests her head on her shoulder as she pulls the covers up to cover their bodies.

“I’m sure that they’re not dating.” Savannah says, wrapping an arm around her best friend.

Y/N chuckles sadly. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Sav. I mean, in the photo, he was kissing her cheek. Literally. And he put a heart between them.”

Savannah sighs. “That’s so not Charlie, you know… kissing random girls in bars and posting pictures with them.”

“Yeah, that’s so not Charlie, because she’s not a random girl. Her name’s Francesca and she went to high school with him, so, technically, she’s known him longer, and probably better than me.”

“I – I had no idea.”

“Yeah.”

“Y/N, babe, just tell him about how you feel. I’m sure that he likes you too.”

“If he liked me, then he wouldn’t be kissing Francesca!”

Y/N exhales, as Savannah gulps, not knowing what to respond. “Y/N, I – I swear, he’s crazy about you. I don’t know what happened between last Friday and today, but I swear – the Charlie that I know – has eyes for no one but you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, feeling a pang in her heart at Savannah’s words. “Savannah, we kissed and then he ghosted me for a day and now he’s posting pictures of him kissing another girl! I think he has eyes for everyone!”

Savannah bites her lower lip, not knowing what to respond, again. Her best friend feels tears prick at the back of her eyes when she says, “Maybe I’m a bad kisser.”

Savannah’s eyes widen, and she sits up, straight. “No. No. Babe, no. Don’t say that, ever. You’re a great kisser, okay! You’re an amazing kisser. Your lips are fine as hell, believe me. He’s the one with crusty ass lips. They’re not even lips, they look like… like… peanuts.”

Y/N stares at her best friend for a moment, before saying, “Peanuts, Sav? Really?”

“It’s the first thing that came into my mind!” She says defensively, before the girls break into a fit of laughter.

“I’m never talking to him again, ever.” Y/N says after they’ve calmed down. “I’m never even gonna look in his direction. Fucking asshole.”

*

Charlie sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. It’s eight in the morning, and he’s normally a morning person – he loves the mornings, the peace, the quiet, and the feeling that comes along with it more than anything, but right now, he just feels… sad.

On regular days, he would be talking to his best friend, Y/N, about everything that’s on his mind. But today’s different.

Last Friday, Y/N kissed him, and long story sort, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to him. After work that day, they went to get some food at a drive through, like they usually do. All throughout the ride, they made plans to go hiking once the production for season two finishes. She drove the car to a lookout, and oh, god, it was so pretty. The midnight sky was littered with stars, and since they were at the edge of town, there was less pollution, and they could see bits of the galaxy, too.

But, for some reason, the girl next to him seemed more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen, and after they finished eating, he just sat and stared at her talk about the last book that she’d read, for a while. He knows that it was terrible that he wasn’t listening – but how could he pay attention to anything when she looked like that, especially with passion illuminating her face like times square on New Year’s Eve?

She had looked at him as if he’d just grown a third head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Li – like what?” He’d asked, embarrassed to be blatantly caught.

“Like that…” She’d said and kissed him, and it felt like he was seeing colour for the first time. Although, the next day, everything turned to shit.

Now, it’s Monday, and she’s nowhere to be seen. He desperately wants to know if his and Owen’s plan actually worked (no reason that it wouldn’t), and he feels so impatient right now, and he misses her. Also, his massive hangover isn’t helping, either.

He hears his name being called, and sees Kenny smiling at him.

“Hey, so we’re gonna do a different scene today, since Y/N and Savannah are out, is that okay with you?”

His heart races. “What happened to them?”

“Y/N’s sick, and Savannah’s taking care of her.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s okay with me.” He says, feeling his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

*

“This is the last time I’m asking you this…” Y/N sings, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Put my name at the top of your list!” Savannah sings, using Y/N’s straightener as a mic.

“This is the last time I’m asking you why!” Madison joins.

“You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye!” Jadah sings, jumping on the bed.

As the second verse comes on, the girls sit on Y/N’s bed, huddled close to each other.

“You know, I’m feeling better now than I did when I woke up.” Y/N says, resting her chin on her knees.

“Taylor Swift can fix anything.” Madison says, leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

She nods. “And y’all. Thanks for being here.”

Jadah grins, wrapping an arm around her. “We couldn’t let you have a pity party all alone!”

Savannah laughs. “I’m gonna kill him, I swear.”

“As relieving as that would be, don’t. I’ve decided what I should do.”

Madison quirks a brow. “You’re gonna kill him yourself?”

“Madi! No. I’m gonna distance myself.”

Savannah tilts her head. “I think that maybe you two should talk it out.”

“I don’t think so. I need space, time to figure it out. My head feels like a mess. And I respect him and Francesca, and I’m not gonna dip my toes between them.”

The other girls solemnly nod their head.

“You do realize that that’s not actually the saying?” Jadah says, after a while.

“Don’t embarrass me, kid.”

*

Charlie exhales, watching his breath crystallize to tiny ice particles in front of him. Even though, he’s a Canadian, he still feels cold. Although maybe it’s not due to the weather, but due to the coldness in Y/N’s eyes.

He watches her chat with Jeremy a few feet away, both of them discussing something that is out of bounds to him. He knows that it’s probably decisions regarding their characters, considering Y/N’s character is Jeremy’s character, Reggie’s love interest, but a part of him feels like it’s shit about him.

He has no reason to feel that way, of course. He hasn’t spoken to Y/N in four days, and this morning, when he saw her after for what feels to be eternity, he was blatantly ignored. He had only watched helplessly as Y/N exited the room the moment he entered and had sunk into his chair feeling like absolute shit, especially with everyone’s pitiful stares.

Charlie’s mind keeps replaying each moment, torturing over every tiny detail, wondering what he did wrong.

And that’s when it hits him: she really doesn’t want him anymore.

Last Saturday, he had hopelessly watched her with her long-term boyfriend of god-knows-how-long – he had come to surprise her on set, and it was Charlie that was more surprised. Because he thought that they were over, for good. And it wasn’t like they seemed like they weren’t dating. They were acting just like they used to when they were dating, and he was too close to her for his comfort. They still laughed the same, joked around the same, and were just as inseparable as they used to be.

A question kept rising in Charlie’s mind, like an icicle to his heart: why would she kiss him when she already had someone else? Why would she give him hope, and then take it all away? Why would she dangle his hurt in front of him?

So, he decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, and posted a picture with Francesca, his high school friend, who he had run into that night.

Owen sinks into the chair beside Charlie. “You okay?”

“I’m starting to believe that our plan didn’t work.”

*

“Hey, uh, Y/N?”

The girl in question hears Charlie’s voice, and turns around, avoiding looking into his eyes.

“Can we talk?” He says, and for a moment, her defences are down again. He looks so… tired, almost like he’s going through the same things that she is. Almost like there’s an explanation as to why he broke her heart, why he ruined something that had the potential to be extraordinary, why he made her feel so bad about herself.

And she almost believes it, too. Like the fool she is.

She presses her lips into a thin line, and says, “Nothing to talk about.”

As Charlie opens his mouth to protest, she smiles and walks away.

*

“Okay, Charlie, you two need to talk it out. This is too much. Both of you are obviously hurting, and there’s obviously some serious miscommunication here.”

Charlie shakes his head at Savannah’s words. “She hates me.”

“No. She could never hate you.” She says, thrusting her phone in Charlie’s face. His eyes squint to read the text on the screen – from Y/N.

Sorry – forgot to leave a note. Drove down to Dad’s, gonna stay here for a while. It’s too painful – honestly, you know what? I’m still very, very, very mad at him. But I’m also missing him very, very, very much. So, I need to flush it out. Flush him out. He might be a jerk, but he’s still one of the best people that I’ve ever met. Love you, okay? Will return when the time is right.

Charlie’s eyes widen, and he stares at Savannah’s face for a while. “There – there is still hope!”

She nods frantically. “You should call her –”

“I’m gonna drive down to her dad’s house, too!”

“That works, too.”

*

A frantic knock on the front door pulls Y/N from her thoughts. She stops typing on her keyboard, and flips the lid shut, keeping it on the dining table in front of her.

She runs to her dad’s door, knowing that it’s him, back from his shopping. She opens the door, saying, “Let me take those for – Charlie?!”

Y/N’s heart swells at his sight as he grins sheepishly.

“So, there’s been some misunderstandings… can I come in?” He asks, and Y/N pauses, considering.

He sighs, and adds, “Please?”

She stares at him.

He juts his bottom lip out. “Pretty please?”

“Fine, come in.”

He closes the door behind him, wordlessly following Y/N, who feels like she might hurl right now. They sit on the couch, and it’s really, really awkward for a few seconds.

Y/N sighs. “You said you –”

“Yes. Yes, yeah. OK, so – I, uh, I –”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why would you do that to me? Do I really mean that little to you?”

“I could say the same about you!”

“Really?”

“Yes! I saw you with Shahid that day, I know that you two are back together –”

“Shahid?!”

“Yes!”

She stares at him, baffled.

“So…so… Francesca….”

“I only posted the picture to make you jealous! She asked me if I wanted to go out with her and the rest of my high school friends, and of course I went, and she saw that I was being a little… unsocial. So, I told her about how the girl that I’m completely crazy about has a boyfriend! And a long term one at that, too! And then Owen came up with a brilliant plan, and I guess you know what it was. Now, I’m realizing that it might not have worked.”

She stares at him for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. Charlie throws her a confused look.

“You – you thought that Shahid – Shahid, my best friend since we were in nappies, Shahid who is married to this amazing man, and at whose wedding I was the maid of honour – you thought that I was dating him?”

“He’s gay?!”

“Bisexual. Oh my god, I have to tell him. This is hilarious.”

Charlie bites the corner of his lower lip, feeling his cheeks heat up. “This is really embarrassing. But you two act like you’re dating!”

“No, we don’t. You’re just being insecure and jealous. I’ve known him forever, and yes, I am the most comfortable around him. Because he’s my family. He’s my brother. Oh, god, I can’t believe that you were jealous of him – wait, have you thought that we were dating this whole time?”

“Kind of. I thought you guys broke up when he didn’t visit you on set during the first two months of production.”

“He was helping feed kids in Somali.”

“Oh. Oh. God, I feel so –”

“Dumb? That’s because you are.”

He grins sheepishly, his cheeks crimson.

Y/N smiles. “But I forgive you. And I wouldn’t mind if you took me on a proper date this time.”

“Deal. Also, promise that we’ll always talk it out before… you know… doing anything?”

She laughs, and nods. He wraps his pinkie finger around hers.

“Well, Owen’s plan did kind of work, though.”

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

I've been rewatching all the Loki content to get ready for the new show and I have thought of A Phineas and Ferb AU™ for your viewing pleasure (and if anyone wants to turn any part of this into an actual fanfic I would owe you my life)

this post was brought to you in partnership with @dumbausfromdanville

You know how the first Thor movie ends with Loki yeeting himself off the Bifrost and falling to earth? What if, instead of going after the Tesseract, he falls straight to the Tri-State area?

Jane, Darcy, and Selvig all seemed to be on vacation, right? So Thor presumably took place during the summer — say, perhaps, ending on June 3? So he falls right onto Phineas and Ferb's rollercoaster just before it goes down that ♫ three-mile drop straight down ♪. He has no idea wtf is happening so it's not like he gets the chance to sit down and put on a seatbelt, so he's stuck holding on for dear life for the entire rollercoaster ride which Phineas and Ferb find weird but they're not really concerned bc they're chill lil dudes and tbh this isn't too far off a normal day for them.

Phineas and Loki strike up a none-too-pleasant conversation (not that Phineas notices Loki's bad mood; he's too Him to realize not everyone is rainbows and sunshine all day, every day), and our favorite lil disoriented demigod has to figure out where the fuck he is now ("You there. What realm is this?" "Danville 🙂" "Wut da fuk?") and what the fuck he's supposed to do now that he's here.

Phineas ends up inviting him to hang out for the afternoon, and Loki is about to turn him down but then he smells the pie. He's never had doonkleberry pie before so obviously he has to try it. Then, when Loki's no longer hangry, they can hold an actual conversation. It's lowkey more Loki wallowing in his own self-pity than anything else, but Ferb recognizes Asgard when Loki mentions it so he and Phineas piece together that he's a god pretty quickly.

More importantly, though, they figure out that he's completely alone, and because Loki never mentions trying to, you know, murder his brother and lowkey overthrow the monarchy, they just kinda assume Loki's family sucks (Ferb is completely prepared to start the anti-Thor club but Phineas stops him because he doesn't want his brother to get struck by lightning) and adopt him (without his consent, but it's not like he has anywhere else to be -- and he did like that pie).

Loki has no desire to build anything with the boys He thinks the idea of a backyard beach they make the next morning is stupid — even more stupid than a regular beach, and that's saying something. But over time, he gets more involved -- not just with the boys, but with the entire family. He helps the boys build their inventions. He talks about human history with Lawrence and corrects much of his knowledge on mythology. He lets Linda teach him how to bake seriously, her pies are so good. He even suffers through Candace's mall trips as long as he gets to go to that fro-yo place on the second floor (though he draws the line at any conversation involving romance).

He's still a little skeptical of the platypus (and he feels like the platypus is a little skeptical of him, too) but Phineas insists that he's "just a platypus" and he "doesn't do much." Loki doesn't realize that Perry's keeping an eye on him for OWCA, nor does he know that Monogram has absolutely no idea what to make of the dude so he hasn't actually told any of his superiors about him. As far as the government is concerned, after the fiasco in New Mexico, Loki just disappeared.

This makes it fucking hilarious when the boys accidentally steal the superheroes' powers in Mission: Marvel and the superheroes show up at the Flynn-Fletchers' front door only to see fucking Loki. Loki just shuts the door in their faces without a word because what the fuck?, but eventually Phineas and Ferb go check the door and they agree to help the heroes (much to Loki's chagrin), which, of course, isn't complete with Candace fangirling over them (also much to Loki's chagrin; she never fangirled over him). At first the Avengers are fully convinced that Loki is responsible for stealing their powers, and Loki never actually denies it because he's a little shit but Phineas, Ferb, and their friends are very insistent that Loki didn't do anything (except a little bit of manual labor putting together the satellites because they're 10 and he's a whole-ass demigod).

At some point, Thor and Loki have a very heated discussion about the events of Thor, and it's pretty much all news to the Flynn-Fletchers and their friends. They're not really sure what to make of it so they basically glue their mouths shut and watch it all play out. I'd like to think it goes something like it does in The Avengers and that a) Thor is pissed because what the fuck have you been up to Loki you fucking dumbass, b) Thor has been in mourning since Loki yeeted himself into the abyss and he wants to make sure the guy knows it, and c) Loki does not take it seriously at all he's being antagonistic the entire time because he is so sick of Mr. High-And-Mighty's shit. In the end, Loki storms out of the SHEDquarters and Phineas doesn't even think to try to stop him until he's halfway out the door and it's too late.

He shows up again when Phineas, Ferb, and the Avengers try to fight the bad guys in the mall with the wrong powers and he basically singlehandedly saves their asses until superhero Perry shows up. As everyone's favorite shapeshifter, he has absolutely no problem figuring out that this beaver duck dude is the Flynn-Fletchers' platypus. He has no idea what to do with that information, but it sure is information that he now has apparently. (At this point, poor Loki has a very warped sense of what earth is supposed to be like lmao).

Phineas tries to get Loki to come back with them after superhero Perry grabs them and carries them home. Instead, Loki cuts himself loose and falls like 30 feet straight down (and tbh after falling from the Bifrost, that's nothing to him) and peaces the fuck out.

Loki ends up accidentally bonding with Candace and Isabella over feeling useless and unwanted (and he absolutely gets his own verse in Only Trying to Help because it's what he deserves), but unlike the two girls who are hell-bent on changing that, Loki is content wallowing in his own self-pity. He's tried this whole "being important" thing before and he ended up in self-exile for it. He's not putting himself through it again because he really doesn't expect it to end well. But then the powerless heroes decide to face the villains again, and with Candace and Isabella in space and Perry nowhere to be seen, he realizes it is once again up to him to keep the tri-state area safe (which he knows is a stupid priority but he's gotten kind of attached to these stupid little humans and he wants to keep them safe).

Then the heroes get their powers back and they join Loki (and Perry and the mysterious waffle gun in the sky) and beat the shit out of the villains. Thor and Loki work together in the heat of the battle which serves as a Great Bonding Moment™, and once the villains are gone, they have a nice lil heart-to-heart where they both apologize for their past. Thor remarks that Loki seems to have grown a lot over the last couple of months and tries to bring Loki home with him, but Loki refuses. He'll never be welcome back into Asgard, no matter what Thor may say.

But he is welcome with the Flynn-Fletchers, who are completely over the fact that he tried to ruin Thor's life and take his not-so-rightful place on the throne (except Candace who's very skeptical about having him back but it's not like Linda will believe her if she tries to tell her what Thor and Loki talked about so her opinion is unfortunately as irrelevant as it usually is on the show).

And early the next morning, before anyone else is awake, Perry gets an alert that he's needed in his headquarters (presumably to talk to or about Fury). He quietly sneaks off, only to find Loki waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. They have a very nice "conversation" (not that Perry speaks) about the superhero Ducky Momo they saw the day before, and Loki assures him that his secret is safe, thus starting a much-needed bromance between Loki and Perry because it's what my babies, goddammit!

Anyways yeah if anyone wants to write a fanfic about Loki hanging out with Phineas and Ferb during his self-exile I would give you a socially distant high-five because I want to read it but I have too many other fanfics on my plate to start this one for at least a few months. It doesn't have to follow this prompt literally at all (I swear I wasn't trying to get this in-depth with it but this is what I do apparently) or it can follow this prompt exactly idc i just want a PnF/Loki fanfic 🥺

[tetsvya]

❛ scaredy cat! ❜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷   tendou drags you to a haunted house along with the rest of the shiratorizawa volleyball club, “forgetting” just how much of a scaredy-cat you could be!

➼ pairing! shiratorizawa vbc x manager!reader, a smidge of ushijima x reader bc i simply can't hold myself back when it comes to that man

➼ warnings! cursing, spooky houses, reader gets really freaked out, mention of fake blood

➼ type! humor, a little fluff and a little spooky, reader is in their third year, takes place in october

➼ author’s note! 2/3 of my halloween fics. please keep in mind that this is the first time i’m posting on here and first time i’m writing for hq, so i apologize beforehand if there are any mistakes or the characters seem ooc. anyways, happy halloween! have fun and stay safe. enjoy this little treat! <3

"Isn't this so exciting!" Tendou squeals in delight, and you immediately want to shake your head in response, because no, this was quite far from exciting. Coach had finally given you guys a very much needed day off, and while you had wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and watch Halloween movies all day, your oh so lovely friend had other plans.

Only a mere hour ago, halfway through your second film, Tendou had barged right into your dorm room, and quite literally pulled you out of bed before shoving you into your closet, holding it closed until you agreed to go with them. He refused to tell you who them was or where you guys were meant to be going, insisting that it was a surprise. And after ten minutes of arguing with the boy through the wooden door separating the two of you, you were rendered with no choice but to give in, agreeing to go. Tendou had released you with a victorious smile, but it was wiped away when you had tackled him as soon as his face came into view.

Alas, that's how you found yourself standing with the starting lineup of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball team, in front of a rickety old home that looked like it had been standing since the beginning of time. To make matters worse, it was covered in spooky decorations inside and out, and it was crawling with actors from the community theatre dressed up as all sorts of scary beings.

No, you thought once more, this was far from exciting.

But the lack of disagreement from the rest of the team had you keeping your mouth sealed shut. You'd be damned if you let them know just how terrified you actually were. They'd never let you live it down.

Your fingers twitched at your side, however, and you clamped down on your bottom lip as that unwelcome feeling of uneasiness began to fester in your tummy. Frowning, you found yourself really wishing you were back in your dorm room, where it was safe and warm. Semi, who had been standing beside you, glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking note of your tense form.

"Are you all right, Y/N?" All eyes turned to you at the boy's words, and you mentally cursed at yourself for being such an open book.

"Yeah,” You forced a smile, nodding as you tried to reassure not only them, but yourself as well, "Just not the biggest fan of haunted houses."

"Don't worry, Y/N!" The only first year of the group chirped, bringing all eyes to him. Goshiki smiled reassuringly, chest puffing out as he held his thumbs up, "I'll protect you!”

You couldn't help the way your lips curled up in endearment as you stared at the younger boy, "Thank you, Goshiki."

It seems you had given the boy your gratitude far too early. The moment the group of you had stepped through the threshold of the home, which was so dark you could hardly even see the back of the person in front of you, an actor dressed as a bloody doll popped up in front of you guys, effectively stealing a squeal of fright from both you and Goshiki, who clutched tightly onto the person beside him, which just so happened to be Shirabu. The second-year scoffed, prying the younger boy's fingers off of him before muttering something to himself. Goshiki shot him a look of utter betrayal, and while the youngest of the group had been occupied, another actor dressed as a freaky clown took it upon them to creep up behind the boy. Another yelp of surprise slipped past Goshiki's lips as he leapt away from them, holding onto Reon's arm this time around. Reon paid it no mind, only offering the boy a reassuring smile as he let him cling to him.

So much for your knight in shining armor, you thought to yourself, but you couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your face. However, it was very short-lived as another actor popped up out of nowhere, getting far too close to your face for your liking. You shrieked once again, stumbling back and bumping into Tendou. Said boy burst into a bout of laughter, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "My, my, y/n-chan! I forgot how much of a scaredy-cat you w—, ow!"

The boy howled, dramatic as always, as you jutted your elbow lightly into his side, pushing him away from you. You sent him a scathing glare before turning away from him, nose raised. Because you knew Tendou, and you knew that he most definitely did not forget how jumpy you could be. He had used that information against you ever since he had found out about it, which was back in your second year, when he had forced you and Ushijima to play some horror game with him.

Ignoring Tendou's "apologies," you jogged ahead, falling into step with Semi. Said boy glanced down at you, a teasing smile playing at his lips, "Scared?"

You huffed, avoiding his eyes as you turned your head away from him, your cheeks growing warm in the process. His laugh filled the air, and you felt him nudge you in the arm gently. You turned back to him, and he offered a small smile, "You can hold on to me if you get scared."

You smiled at him, "Thanks, Semi."

He only shrugged in response, and when an actor jumped out at you once more a few moments later, you had no problem taking him up on his proposition. He teased you every time you squeezed onto his arm tighter, but his presence did reassure you a little bit. The dark lights of the house made it hard to see clearly, so holding onto someone made you feel much better.

You guys continued to stumble through the old house, jumpscares at every turn, effectively spooking the lot of you again and again. The only one who had yet to be spooked in even the slightest was Ushijima. Albeit, it had been pretty hard to frighten Tendou as well, but when an actor had finally managed to catch him off guard, he let out a petrified shriek followed by a cackle of delight. He truly was something else.

Eventually, you guys came upon the hall of mirrors. Reluctantly, you let go of Semi's arm as the narrow space only allowed room for one person at a time. You and Semi were the last to enter, you trailing in after behind the boy. You held your hands out, feeling the space before you in fear of bumping straight into a mirror. You began to think that this part wasn't as bad as the rest of the house, as nothing had yet creeped out at you, but that thought was quickly diminished as soon as an actor popped out from seemingly nowhere, right in front of you. A yelp slipped past your lips and you stumbled back. The person crept closer to you, cackling as you shut your eyes in fear.

Oh, You were so going to murder Tendou.

After a few moments of silence, you slowly peeked an eye open, a sigh of relief slipping past your lips when you realized you were alone. Wait. Fear gripped at your heart once more as you realized that you were alone. Semi was no longer ahead of you, and no one else from the Volleyball Club was in sight. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched. This was not good. You rushed forward, hopelessly stumbling through the exhibit, bumping into a mirror every now and then. Nothing else popped out at you, but that didn't stop the rapid beating of your heart. You were absolutely terrified now that you no longer had the comforting presence of anyone besides you. Hell, you'd even choose to have Tendou with you if it meant that you didn't have to be by yourself. You had no luck in finding any of the boys, but you did eventually make your way out of the hall of mirrors. You found yourself back in a dark hall like the ones from before, and reached into your back pocket to pull out your phone.

You unlocked it with shaking hands, and quickly dialed Tendou's number, bringing the phone up to your ear as you huddled into a corner, eyes peeled for anything lurking in the dark.

"I'm sorry, but your connection isn't—" You pulled the phone away from your ear, nearly crying at the little "no service" written on the top corner of your screen. You shut your phone off, siding it back into your pocket. Heaving out a sigh, you shut your eyes momentarily.

Okay y/n, calm down. Breathe. Take a second. You coaxed yourself, trying to get yourself to relax. This went on for a minute or two, and when you felt like you could finally breathe again, you opened your eyes once more, releasing a breath. You swallowed the lump in your throat, relaxing your fingers from the curled up ball they were in previously. Okay, you can do this. You can find your way out.

You nodded to yourself, letting out another breath as you continued on. It went okay for a few minutes. No one else jumped out at you, and there were only a few scares here and there but nothing too bad. Once again, you spoke far too soon. Just as you turned a corner, an actor appeared right before you. A squeal slipped past your lips, and you stumbled back as the actor crept closer to you. You knew it was fake, but that did nothing to help calm your fear. They lunged at you, and another yelp slipped past your lips as you blindly took another step backward. Your back slammed into a hard surface this time. The surface was warm, and rose up and down steadily, and you realized with a sinking feeling that it was in fact not a wall, but a person. You tensed up, instantly fearing the worse. What if it was another creepy actor? You were afraid you'd faint if it was.

"Y/N," The deep voice that came from the person had some of the tension seeping from your body as a sigh slipped past your lips, "It's me."

You steeled your eyes shut, before slowly turning on your heel. When you were facing the person, you slowly peeked an eye open, before both of them flew open at the sight of the boy before you. You had known it was him just by his voice alone, but you had been silently praying that it hadn't been. But no, it was most definitely Ushijima who stared down at you with an impassive stare.

"I'm so sorry!" You all but shouted when you noticed just how close you were standing to the ace, scrambling away from him, only to jump forward once more when another actor inched closer to you. Could they not give you a second to breathe?

"There's no reason to be sorry" Ushijima stated simply, peering down at you.

Not wanting to embarrass yourself any further, you gave a stiff nod. You took a moment to survey the area, and it was then that you noticed the lack of the other boys, "Where's everyone else?

"We didn't realize you were missing until we made it to the end" Your lips turned down at his blunt words, wondering how they could have possibly gone all that time without noticing your absence. You've been alone for nearly twenty minutes now! Ushijima didn't seem to pick up on your sour mood, however, continuing on with his explanation of why it was only him that was standing before you, "The others were too scared to come back in, so I volunteered."

Your lips parted in disbelief at his words, your hands curling into fists at your side. What a bunch of as—

"Are you all right, Y/N?" Ushijima asked, and you caught the slightest shift of his eyebrow raising upward.

However, before you could even get the chance to respond and tell the boy how far from all right you were, another actor popped out from around the corner, screeching at the two of you. Your breath hitched, and you inched closer to Ushijima as the actor did the same to you.

Ushijima only blinked at the actor, before turning to glance back down at you. While he may not have been the most emotionally intelligent guy out there, it was quite clear to him that you were terrified. His lips turned down just the slightest, and he called out your name. You peeled your eyes away from the creepy doll-like figure, wide eyes landing on Ushijima, "Are you ready to go on?"

You nodded frantically, wanting nothing more than to be out of this terrifying house. The boy took the first step forward, and you followed timidly, wide eyes scanning the area for anything creeping in the dark. Ushijima expertly weaved his way through the home, seemingly relaxed as ever as he didn't so much as even flinch when something popped out at the two of you. You, however, were practically shaking as you subconsciously inched closer and closer to the boy. While you guys didn't speak with one another, Ushijima always a man of few words, his presence was enough to soothe your nerves, even if it was just by a little bit.

It didn't take long for Ushijima to notice the gap between the two of you gradually growing smaller and smaller. The boy may not have been the best at picking up social clues, but after knowing you for as long as he did, he could practically read you like an open book. He knew your close proximity to him wasn't exactly intentional, it just happened with how many times you took instinctive steps closer to him out of fear. He wanted to help you, but he didn't really know how. He thought back and recalled the way that you had clung onto Semi before.

He called your name suddenly, and you were once again looking up at him with wide eyes. He came to a stop, prompting you to do the same before he held his arm out to you. You blinked at the outstretched limb before meeting his eyes once more, tilting your head to the side in confusion, "I'm not sure I understand. Did you hurt your arm?"

"No" He responded, thrusting his arm out a little more, "You're scared, are you not?"

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you awkwardly scratched at the back of your neck, "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes," He answered bluntly, before gesturing to his arm once more, "You can hold onto my arm if you'd like."

Your eyes grew even wider at that, lips parting in shock as you stared at the ace. You blinked at him, and when you went to reply, you found yourself stumbling over your words, "I—, you—, w—"

"You do not have to, if you do not want t—"

"No!" You all but shouted, mentally cringing as you caught the subtle way Ushijima’s eyes widened just the slightest. Coughing to recollect yourself, you offered Ushijima a soft smile as you gently wrapped your fingers around the soft fabric of his Shiratorizowa sports jacket, "Thank you, Wakatoshi-Kun."

"There's no need to thank me" He answered curtly, quickly glancing away so you wouldn't see the slightest tint of red that began to coat his cheeks, "Let's go, the others must be getting tired of waiting."

You nodded, even though he couldn't exactly see it, before taking a step closer to him. The two of you began to walk once more, but now that you were clinging onto Ushijima's arm, you felt much safer. You still flinched every now and then, your grip on Ushijima's arm turning a little tighter each time something jumped out of you before softening once more but unlike Semi, Ushijima said nothing about it. Eventually, you caught sight of the light at the end of the tunnel, quite literally. Your eyes widened in relief as you caught sight of the exit, speeding up as you practically dragged Ushijima alongside you. A weight was lifted off your shoulders as soon as you stepped out of the home. Your eyes quickly landed on your group of boys standing a few feet away, seemingly waiting for the two of you, and you hastily began to make your way over to them.

"Wakatoshi-Kun!" Tendou gasped when he caught sight of the two of you approaching the small group. Whatever he had planned to say before was thrown out of the window when he caught sight of the hold you still had on the captain, a teasing smirk pulling up the corner of his lips as he looked at his best friend, "You sly dog! No wonder you volunteered to go save our sweet manager-chan!"

"I don't understand what you mean" Ushijima spoke, the slightest furrow of his brows displaying his confusion.

"Well, you obviously—, yeow!" The boy yelped as you slapped his arm, narrowing his eyes at you as he pouted, "Why are you so rough with me, y/n-chan!"

Your eyes hardened at his words, and you went to raise your hand once more, but the boy let out a yelp, scampering behind Semi. He clutched onto the boy's shoulders, peeking his head out from behind him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Just stop hitting me!"

You huffed in response, turning away from him as you crossed your arms. Sensing your unhappy mood, Reon took a timid step towards you, "Are you all right, Y/N?"

"No, I'm not!" You answered, lips turning down into a pout as you turned to face the boys once more, "I can't believe you guys didn't even realize that I was missing for nearly twenty minutes, and when you guys finally did realize, only Ushijima went back in to find me!"

Said boy stood silently beside you, peering at the others. Both Reon and Semi frowned at you, guilt eating away at them. Goshiki looked to be close to tears, as he had wanted to go back in and look for you, but he himself was too scared to do so. Yamagata stood to the right of him, gently patting the younger boy's back while outwardly avoiding your gaze. Hell, even Kawanishi and Shirabu looked sorry. They had all witnessed how scared you had been even when you were surrounded by all of them, so they could only imagine how terrified you must have felt while you were on your own.

"We're sorry" The boys spoke simultaneously, a sheepish smile on their faces as they looked at you.

You sighed heavily, dropping your crossed arms as you waved your hand through the air, a look of indifference replacing your previous pout. You could never stay mad at the boys for long, "It's alright. But I do expect you guys to make it up to me."

So when you found yourself in a little cafe not too far from the haunted house, a warm mug of hot chocolate cradled in your hands, topped with whipped cream and a platter of cute pumpkin-shaped cookies sitting before you, courtesy of your favorite boys, the animated voices of the team filling up the tiny booth you guys were crammed in and Ushijima's warmth from where he sat beside you bathing you in serenity, you couldn't find it in you to be mad at Tendou for crashing your plans any longer. Because while you could have movie marathons whenever you pleased, your time to make memories with your favorite people was slowly running out, and you'd rather take every opportunity you could to be with them than regret not doing so later on down the road. So yes, you supposed that today had been exciting, and while you would never admit it to Tendou, it was a day you'd never forget.

other halloween fics:

pumpkin guts war - karasuno

what’s new, scooby doo? - aoba johsai

[adarlingsnightmare]

Osamu Dazai Yandere Alphabet

this was requested by a lot of people and i wrote it awhile ago but am only posting it now bc i spent way too much time fussing over whether it was any good lol.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

One word: smothering. Dazai's idea of affection involves robbing you of your privacy and getting in your personal space as much as possible. He doesn't even care if you're not comfortable with it, so for anyone who doesn't like being touched, he's an absolute nightmare to be with. He especially likes to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind and stand like that for as long as possible.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as necessary! He's more likely to get messy with you than with rivals, though. He is a sadist, but now that he has his precious darling this is all directed towards you, meaning his rivals get fairly swift deaths if Dazai does decide they need to die.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

As previously mentioned, Dazai is a sadist, and therefore loves to cause his darling pain whether that be physical or emotional. Despite this, he can act sweet and loving too, especially if you're not resistant. He does occasionally mock you, but it's not his main tactic of hurting you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

Yes, definitely. His darling's wants and needs are completely meaningless to him. To his darling, he may even seem oblivious, but the truth is he just doesn't care. You said you don't want him to spike your drink? Oh, well that's just too bad.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Surprisingly, Dazai will actually be himself around his darling, rather than putting on a persona. He believes that since he loves you, you should know his true self. You're the only person in the world who will ever get to see the real Dazai, though that isn't necessarily a good thing. Don't get excited though, this doesn't mean he is vulnerable, in fact he is probably worse now he doesn't have to restrain himself.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Mostly amused. A part of Dazai enjoys someone who fights back and won't give in easily, in fact you could even argue he is somewhat masochistic since he gets rather excited by your anger towards him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Certainly. Dazai is fascinated by human behaviour and watching you react to various torture and situations is his form of entertainment. He may eventually get irritated if you are constantly trying to escape, but he somewhat admires your resilience.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Honestly, the whole experience is a nightmare because there is no chance of a good ending. Dazai can't be reasoned with, there are no compromises and it is guaranteed to end in tragedy. No matter how strong or smart you are, you can't escape. The best ending is for Dazai to kill you, because at least then your suffering will be over.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dazai never expected to live this long, so he's never bothered thinking about the future before, even when it comes to his darling. However, if it came down to it, he'd probably want something similar to the 'typical' married life: a house, loving partner and maybe some kids. He wants to feel more human and he figures acting like everyone else is a good start. Although, despite these fantasies, Dazai will never actually be able to live this life due to who he is.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh, Dazai is the definition of jealous. He can't even handle the prospect of you thinking about someone else, let alone anything like actually talking to them. He has to be the centre of your world or he will literally go insane. He's not a hothead like Chuuya, so aside from a very tight grip on you and a dark glare, his jealousy won't be noticeable immediately. However, that's not to say he won't do anything about the situation — scheming on how he can ruin this persons life and if they really don't get the message, he supposes he'll just have to show them what happens to vermin who steal his darling's attention.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He still retains some of his cheery and mischievous persona, but make no mistake, once he's got you trapped, he'll reveal a much darker side. He likes to act oblivious to your suffering just to wind you up— oh, you're crying about how you want to be let out? so... anyways, what should we have for dinner? — and takes pleasure in both your despair and your anger towards him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Depending on which version of Dazai we're talking about here (Mafia or ADA), his way of courting will be different. If you meet while he's in the Port Mafia, he will be more creepy than romantic. Relying more on intimidation than charm, he'll spend his time sadistically toying with you and jumping out of nowhere to wrap his arms around you in a suffocating hold. ADA!Dazai is pretty much the complete opposite— overwhelming you with endless gifts (mainly pricey chocolate and flowers), reciting cheesy love poetry, flirting constantly and of course always asking you whether you'd commit a double suicide with him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Definitely. While Dazai appears as a cheerful, suicidal maniac with a penchant for troublemaking, he is actually quite different. Around you he does retain some of his facade, but the cracks will show and it'll be undoubtedly unsettling. He deceives you with his sweeter, more carefree side, before he reveals the merciless, cynical person he truly is.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishing his darling is Dazai's favourite thing... much to the disdain of his darling. He'll punish you for just about anything and half the time he won't even explain what you've done wrong, simply wanting an excuse to have his fun. His punishment can take many forms, usually sexual, and always teaches you a lesson. The punishments you receive depend on whether we're talking about mafia!Dazai or ADA!Dazai, the former typically based around humiliation and the latter around degradation and pain. (I have quite a few ideas but I didn't want to write too much on this here).

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Rights? Freedom? What are those? You don't know because you haven't experienced the feeling of independence and being able to make your own decisions since Dazai took an interest in you. He's an unbearably jealous person so he can't allow you to even look at other people, let alone talk to them. Despite how much you prove your loyalty to Dazai, he will still refuse to loosen his suffocating hold over you and your freedom.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

If Dazai thinks it's worth it, he can wait for just about anything, so he is usually relatively patient with his darling. I say 'usually', because while he doesn't mind waiting, he prefers his darling to respond to his questions and advances instantly and you risk getting punished if you don't. Unfortunately for you, you'll never know how patient he's feeling so it's always best to just be alert and reply immediately when he asks you something.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Definitely not. Dazai's life felt pointless until he met his beloved darling, so you leaving/dying would absolutely destroy him and increase his suicidal tendencies tenfold. Without his raison d'être what point is there in continuing to live?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Guilt? Why on earth would Dazai feel guilty? He needs his darling to be around him pretty much 24/7 and kidnapping is the safest option for everyone, why should he feel guilty? I mean, who knows what kind of havoc Dazai would wreak if he couldn't have you by his side...

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Dazai's own ability describes exactly just how disconnected from other people he feels, so it's no surprise that he doesn't really understand love. It's the curiosity of what it's like to be human — to be like everyone else — that will compel him to pursue his darling to the point it develops into an obsession. You'll also have to be different enough to keep his attention, perhaps being eccentric in your own way or being extremely hard to read. He can't feel genuine love, at least not like others do, but he can feel intense obsession and that may be even more dangerous.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Unsurprisingly, Dazai enjoys his darling's tears and despair, being the sadist he is. However, he only likes it when he's the cause of your pain or distress, if you were crying because of someone else it would infuriate him to no end.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He appears like the typical delusional and deranged yandere, but he's actually very calculating and certainly lucid. He's fully aware of everything he's doing and how wrong it is, but does he care? Not in the slightest.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Honestly, it's hard to think of ways you could escape Dazai as he is extremely smart and unlike some other yanderes, no matter how compliant you are he will never let down his guard in the slightest. The only possibility is to kill him: whether that's by poisoning his food, smothering him in his sleep or biting down so hard on his neck he bleeds out. Either way, resorting to murder is the most plausible way of escaping.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Of course! What's the point of being with your beloved if you can't inflict a little pain onto them? Pain will be a daily occurrence for you as nothing is more melodic to Dazai than your cries of pain.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

While Dazai doesn't worship you per say, he does see you as ethereal— an angel that he feels compelled to ruin. Since doesn't see himself as human, you are very different to him in his mind. He wants someone else to feel as inhuman as he does, which is why he takes great pleasure in destroying your humanity. He isn't worried about winning you over either; he may appear like he is trying to do so, but he knows that if you don't return his advances he can just make you love him.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As mentioned previously, Dazai can be very patient when he wants to be and has no problem playing the long game if he feels it is necessary. He won't kidnap you immediately: preferring to slowly worm his way into your life so that by the time you realise his true, much darker intentions, it's already too late to escape.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Well, he wants to mould his darling into the perfect submissive little kitten, so yes it is likely he would break them down until all he had to do was rebuild them in the image he wanted. Even if you genuinely love him back and want to be with him, Dazai will still tear down your mental stability to the point of complete reliance on him. He's never experienced any real love from another person before or been in an actual relationship, so it's safe to say his views on love are a little skewed. However, after he had completely broken you, Dazai would feel the closest he can to regret. He doesn't actually want you to be a lifeless doll, but unfortunately he only realises this after you're already too far gone.

[zigtheeortega]

unrequited [part 3]

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 6327

✿ warnings: innuendos, mention of drugs

✿ author’s note: well, this took a lot longer to finish than i expected (lmaooo). i kind of lost interest in open heart after seeing how horribly characters were sidelined, including my fav surgeon. i’ve worked on this on and off since april after i posted part 2, so this is like 4 ish months in the making. this series means the absolute world to me because it was the first time i was really confident in my writing. not as confident in the conclusion, but it’s been weighing on me for months, so i felt obligated to finish it! i hope you all enjoy it!

added my tags to the end bc there’s quite a few, so i’m sorry if i tagged you and you didn’t want to be – i’m going off of who asked to be tagged/asked for a part 3 months ago!

[read part 1 and part 2 here]

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

“Hey, Spence. What’s wrong?”

She glanced at the door, expecting to see his arm pressed against the frame of the door, slouched casually like he hadn’t a care in the world. Instead, Bryce was unusually close to her, standing right next to her chair, like he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m just so… tired. It feels like I’m trying to sprint underwater right now and I don’t know why. I can’t explain it,” she watched him, gauging his reaction, but something was off.

“C’mon, I think I know exactly what you need right now,” his smile was Bryce’s, but the familiar twinkle of mischief and flirtiness in his eye wasn’t there.

He turned wordlessly, walking out of the door and down the hallway, which was a lot longer than she’d remembered.

She shook it off and trailed behind him, heart beating soundly in her chest. Was he bringing her to the on call room? To the supply closet? Maybe to an unattended office?

“So, where are you taking me?” She asked playfully, reaching out to link her finger in his, but she fell short, even though he was right in front of her.

He either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, walking straight ahead at the same pace. “Bryce, did you hear me?”

He didn’t pick up his pace, but she fell behind, trying to keep up, – to no avail. She looked down, thinking maybe – crazily – that she’d stepped into cement, slowing her pace to a crawl, or something else that was explainable.

But she was fine.

She pushed herself harder as she fell farther and farther back, Bryce’s stride never breaking.

She pumped her arms, leaning forward, trying desperately to swim through the thick atmosphere, practically pedaling against the ground to gain some type of momentum.

“Bryce? Bryce! Hello?” She yelled, as his figure got smaller and smaller, the hall literally stretching to accommodate the distance between them.

She watched as the wall space stretched, new door frames popping up, the number of rooms multiplying by the second.

He turned back for the first time as she clawed her way towards him, making no progress. “You gotta try a little harder for me, Spence.”

He smiled, not sinisterly, but just wide enough, lacking just the right amount of his effortless charm, that she got chills.

She jolted awake, the sound of her alarm interrupting her R.E.M. She snatched her phone off the dresser and tapped her screen, met with a brief silence before the distant noise of traffic – engines rumbling, and horns blaring below – filled her room.

She sat up, panting, her back slick with cooled sweat, the thin fabric of her top clinging to her skin. She breathed deeply, calming her quick pulse, until a muffled sound broke her concentration.

Her phone laid face down on her comforter, slivers of light peeking out of the sides. She flipped it, and her eyes widened in horror after reading Bryce’s name at the top of the screen, but even more so after watching the numbers tick higher and higher.

It wasn’t an alarm – he’d called her at 3 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you okay? You picked up but I didn’t hear anything besides heavy breathing.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just woke me up.”

“Right. Sorry.” He was silent long enough that she almost asked if he’d muted her. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“About what? You’re freaking me out a little bit,” she laughed once, but it came out as a scoff, and she kicked herself internally.

She didn’t want him to think she was mad. If anything, she’d been craving any time she could get with him.

They’d maintained a semblance of normality after the party, speaking to each other in the hallways, hanging out in groups, but they never unpacked their past conversation further.

She knew she’d said some profoundly batshit things while she was drunk, and vaguely remembered professing her feelings to him, but he never brought it up.

When she surprised the group with tickets to a music festival, she had ulterior motives. She wanted to get him as alone as she could in a sea of thousands. She wanted to make things right. But because Bryce was wholly intoxicating, she couldn’t do anything but live in their moment, the tough conversations – though inevitable – a million miles away.

They danced, they kissed, and she was enraptured by him. The way her hand fit into his own, the way his warm palm felt against her lower back, the way the cool tones of the stage lights bounced off of his bronzed skin, the way the smooth bass of his voice sounded as his full lips were nearly pressed against her ear, the way his smile was just crooked enough to be a smoulder and a smirk at the same time, and it was insufferable, but she adored it… Everything about Bryce was everything she’d ever wanted.

And she thought she was close to getting it back. She thought that’d be the end of it. They made up, and they could move forward. She wanted him, and he wanted her, finally.

But nothing came of it. He never avoided her, but he never stayed around long enough for her to bring up the night of the party.

The seed of hope in her chest blossomed, budding slowly every instance they spent enough time together to make it feel like when they were interns, the exhilarating sensation of hooking up freely a nostalgia she craved. She’d worked up enough courage to treat her situation dramatically – like in a movie – showing up at his apartment, wine in hand, ready to have make up sex and lay it all on the table while they were both sober.

The hope bloomed, coming to fruition when she surprised him, only to find that he’d been hiding his personal problems. It explained why he’d been avoiding her, she thought.

Bryce Lahela was a prideful bastard – one who couldn’t admit he needed a lifesaver until he was already sinking. He was in over his head, drowning underneath the pressure of fostering his kid sister, whom he had virtually no relationship with, all the while balancing residency – as well as… whatever was happening between them.

When she planned to spend her whole life making it up to him, she wasn’t bluffing. So when she saw the opportunity to salvage and strengthen the siblings’ relationship with something as simple as cooking pasta, she dove in headfirst, hand outstretched, eagerly pulling him to safety.

“Keiki’s gone,” he sighed, and she could feel his anxiety and overwhelming dread through that one deep breath.

“Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’? Did she go back to Maui?” She asked frantically, throwing her covers back, and began pacing the room.

“For all I know, she could be at the airport or across state lines by now,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve thrown her a going away party or something. Or at least given her a card,” she huffed, kicking at a dirty shirt she’d left on the ground.

“Well, it was kind of, uh, sudden.”

“That implies that it was out of nowhere. So she just bolted? Unprovoked?”

“I mean, it was a little provoked.” He said under his breath, just above a whisper.

“Bryce… what are you not telling me?” She asked, uneasy. She didn’t know if she wanted to hear his answer.

“We got into a fight –”

“And she ran away.” She finished for him.

“... And she ran away.” He said.

She could sense his shame through the phone, his voice getting weaker with every word. She slipped out from under the covers, and tiptoed to her closet, throwing on the first shirt and pair of pants she touched.

“You can explain why later, but right now we need to go find her. We can meet at the subway stop closest to your place. You can start by retracing her steps. Are there any corner stores she liked? Maybe a skate park? She seems like she’d be into that kind of stuff –”

“Spence.”

“Yeah?” “You don’t have to help me. I know things have been kind of weird lately. Don’t feel obligated to help me. This is my fuck up, not yours.”

“We can talk about ‘us’ later, Bryce. Even if we were on bad terms, you know I’d drop anything to help you and Keiki. I know you don’t have anyone to lean on.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath that she could barely hear over the slight static of the phone. “Thank you.” “You can thank me after we find her.”

––––

As soon as she stepped off the subway, Spencer hit a near sprint, trying to get to their designated meeting spot. The Boston weather was as unforgiving as ever, the chilled wind stinging her cheeks.

She ran towards the hole in the wall pizza joint that Keiki had told her about offhandedly the night they’d cooked together.

As soon as she saw Bryce’s form, she slowed to a jog, nearly breathless, both by the physical exertion and how awful he looked. His features mirrored the one she’d seen in the supply closet, his defeated expression a painful memory she’d worked hard to bury.

She’d never seen him cry before, but from the way his red-rimmed eyes nearly sagged, nose rubbed raw, lips tight, she felt emotionally spared by not being there whilst the tears fell.

“Bryce?”

“Hey, Spencer,” He smiled weakly, sniffling and rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Did you go inside and ask the owners if she stopped by?” “Yeah, they said she was here an hour ago. She stopped for a slice but didn’t stay long,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled his phone from his pocket, before tapping on his screen.

“Okay, that’s great news! She couldn’t have gotten far,” she said, before swivelling back towards where she came from. “C’mon, I hope you have your monthly pass. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

“Where to next?” He joked, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“First thing’s first, did you check to see if her location was on?”

“She never had it on in the first place. I guess she thought I’d show up and embarrass her or something,” he shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

They stepped onto the dingy subway car, nearly empty except for one other person who was slumped over in their seat, asleep.

“I doubt it. She has a soft spot for you, Bry,” she sat down, readjusting her loose sweatpants before doing so.

“If she did, then she doesn’t anymore. I think I really fucked up this time,” he said, more to himself than her.

He ended it there, so she decided to nudge him a little. “You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if I had some context.”

“No, no, I… want to. I trust you,” he glanced over to her, holding her eye for the first time that night. He inched his hand over to hers, cautiously, debating, she thought, before settling on rubbing his thumb up and down her pinky finger.

The dying bud in her chest bloomed once again, warmth spreading throughout her limbs at his touch, his soft gesture quenching the thirst her heart so desperately pined for. 

She blinked, eyes trained on his mouth, unable to tear her gaze away from his lips. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was good at hiding it.

“I said and did some things I shouldn’t have. Some things that might’ve reminded her of our parents,” he started.

She waited for him to continue, watching his chest shake as he tried to find the words between the deep breaths he took to calm himself.

“She’s taking after me, and I don’t like it. Not me, like Dr. Lahela, one of the best surgeons this world has ever seen –” a hint of a smirk curled the corner of his lip – “but like the rebellious, angry, reckless teen Bryce who just wanted… attention. From anyone.”

“So… why don’t you give her that?”

He blew out a sharp huff of air. “I don’t get her. And I’m trying really hard to. But there’s only so many hours in the day, and I don't think she felt like I was trying hard enough.”

“You got wrapped up in work like your parents did, huh?” She asked softly, placing her other hand on top of his, quietly lacing her fingers through his.

“Yeah,” he said, remorseful. “I just wish I could’ve kept my fucking mouth shut for once –”

“Hey, hey, stop that. You can feel as guilty as you want after we find her, but we have to stay positive right now,” she said, a bit sternly, covering his hand with her own, gripping it tightly.

He watched her face, searching for something. Maybe a crack in her sincerity? Ulterior motives? She wasn’t sure if he trusted people or not, and it perplexed her to think about it – she’d known Bryce for over a year and couldn’t name a single person that she knew he definitively trusted.

“Thanks, Spence. I really mean it,” he said finally, a little more relaxed than he was seconds before.

He checked his phone every couple of seconds, clicking the lock screen to check the time, before locking it again, just to repeat the cycle incessantly.

“Can I be honest about something?” He asked, staring straight ahead, brows furrowed.

“Of course.”

“I… ignored her. Just like they ignored me when I started acting out. I…” He shook his head. “I said I’d never be like them.”

“You aren’t, Bryce,” she affirmed, rubbing his shoulder blade in soft circles. “The fact that you’re out here searching for her says so much about who you are.”

“It doesn’t say enough.”

“What do you mean?” “Running away from home means nothing if I’m not better than them. Thousands of miles of distance and I turned out just like them,” he scoffed. “The fucking cycle repeats itself.”

“Bryce…” she shifted her body, facing him completely, while he stared ahead, not meeting her eye.

“Just because you’re not good with coping with all of this doesn’t mean you’re a bad brother.”

He turned towards her finally, attentive.

“Yeah, you tend to bottle things up until they blow up, but you didn’t ask for this. You’re not her parent – you’re her brother, first and foremost. You can’t put those expectations on yourself because you’re not them. You’re doing the best you can as her brother, not her parent.”

She laced her fingers over his, squeezing the hand she’d been holding. “You can’t fault yourself for making mistakes. This is new territory for you. You’re learning and she is, too.”

The doors opened in front of them, the only indicator that they’d made it to the next stop. They were both so engrossed that they hadn’t noticed.

“We should probably get out here,” she said, standing. She didn’t check to see if he followed suit, missing the way he watched her as he walked behind her.

They clopped up the stairs again, Spencer shivering despite her cozy getup.

“Do you want my headband?” He asked, digging into his pocket. “It’s really warm.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” she took it, pulling the thick band over her hair, snug against her ears, but comfortable.

“No problem,” he said, watching her adjust it, his eyes trained on the way she pursed her lips when she couldn’t get all of her hairs to lay down just right.

“We can split up,” she started, pointing down the main street across from the subway. “I’ll check the restaurants that are open down this way, and you can go the opposite way. I’ll text you when I head back –”

“I don’t want you walking alone, Spence,” he said, shutting her down immediately.

“We’re gonna cover more ground if we split up. I can handle myself. Don’t worry about me,” she shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt while helping me look for my sister. Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft.

“Fine,” she sighed.

They checked a handful of diners, breakfast places, and even a bar, but with no luck. Even when Bryce flashed a photo from Keiki’s Instagram, no one’s eyes lit up in recognition.

He looked more and more defeated with each subway stop, his posture slumping, his lips set in a thin line.

She could feel herself deflating as well, but she couldn’t bear to show him she was quickly losing hope, too. No one was going to support Bryce the way he needed, except for her.

“Let’s stop by that skatepark. If she’s not there, there’s bound to be someone who’s seen her,” Spencer nodded resolutely, absentmindedly grasping Bryce’s hand and tugging him towards the stop.

“It’s no use,” he whispered, and she whipped around at the sound of his voice, his body grounded, like his feet were nailed to the ground.

“What’s no use?”

“This,” he gestured with both hands, tugging his chilled hands from her grip. “She doesn’t want to be in Boston. It’s my fault she hasn’t adjusted. I haven’t exactly been the best welcoming committee.”

She shook her head vigorously. “Bryce, she could care less where you live. She came here for you.”

His brows furrowed, his face contorting, his features scrunching like he was in physical pain. When he covered his face with his hand, without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder.

She whispered words of affirmation in his ear as he sobbed into her jacket, and she rubbed small soothing circles, doing her best to comfort him.

He’d never been this vulnerable in front of her. It was hard to decipher how he felt about things going wrong, his killer smile usually a convincing mask.

He pulled away after a while, his tear streaked face glimmering in the light. “Sorry. That was embarrassing,” he laughed shakily, flashing his teeth, just on the cusp of being a signature Bryce smile.

“Oh, shut up. I’ve cried in front of you before –”

“And it was embarrassing,” he teased, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

A laugh bubbled from her before she could stop it. A body aching, chest heaving, breath stealing guttural laugh that shook her to her core because of how unexpected it was. That type of joy was nearly lost on her. It was so foreign compared to the past couple weeks, and it felt good.

He cackled with her, more so at the involuntary snort that ripped from her nose, less at his not-so-subtle roast. He grasped at his chest with one hand, gasping for air. “God, I’d willingly do appendectomies for a month straight if I could get a video of that snort. I’d snap everybody.”

Her eyes widened, his words triggering a memory.

“Oh my god,” she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. She quickly opened her phone, navigating to the app she needed. “What? Is it bad?”

“No, I just realized she added me on Snapchat, so her location might be on,” she smiled to herself, opening up the geolocation map, seeing Keiki’s Bitmoji pop up – in the city. “Oh my god, Bryce, she’s still in Boston! Look, it’s her!” She hugged her phone to her chest. “She’s a couple of stops down but not that far away from us.”

He watched her with a confused expression, a little hurt, almost.

“What’s wrong?”

“... She never added me on Snap,” he nearly pouted.

She cackled again, covering her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking – real laughter. Another fleeting moment of pure joy was the eye of the storm, and she gladly basked in it. 

“I didn’t know you two were so close,” His mouth lifted at the corner, a knowing smile forming.

“Well, I got her phone number and snap in case she wanted me to show her around Boston, y’know, if you were busy,” she said between breaths, still coming down from her fit. “Or if she ever got tired of you,” she teased, the feeling of normality settling between them like there wasn’t a massive elephant in the room.

“How could you ever get tired of this face, though? I’m adorable,” he grinned, flashing her favorite 1000-watt smile that made her stomach flutter. “Nah, but really. Thank you. I don’t really know where I’d be right now without you.”

His eyes softened, the debonair facade parting just long enough for her to see what was undoubtedly her favorite side of him.

He laid his hand on her jaw, the warmth of his palm comforting, a striking contrast to the nipping cold of the night air. Both his touch and the temperature differences elicited a reflexive shiver from her, goosebumps raising on her arms underneath her jacket.

Part of her wanted to admit she’d shuddered solely because of his warm skin, because she didn’t want to inflate his ego – but there was no denying it. A single touch from Bryce was all it took to make her putty in his hands.

His gaze flickered to her lips, and he stretched his thumb to lightly drag the pad of it over her bottom lip, parted in awe. “Spencer…”

The tension thickened, their anticipation making it difficult to breathe. God, there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to grab his face and taste him again. As much as she wanted to kiss him, it wasn’t right.

“Bryce,” she whispered, eyelids fluttering as she watched his tongue flick out to wet his lips. “You can kiss me after we find her.”

––––

The skatepark was nearly empty, the streetlights casting long shadows from the ramps onto the concrete.

“You’re sure she’s here?” He asked, wispy streams leaving his mouth as he spoke.

“Unless she dropped her phone here, she should be close by,” she nodded towards where a few scraggly teenagers were standing around, pungent smoke in the air.

“Keiki shouldn’t be out here with those dumbasses smoking weed out in the open like that,” he huffed, eyeing them as they walked towards the back, the grassy area coming into focus.

“Relax. I doubt she’s out here to smoke. You say that like you didn’t smoke too,” she raised a brow at him, challenging.

He pursed his lips. “Oh, so it’s like that.”

“What? You can’t go all dad mode and expect me not to play devil’s advocate,” she quipped, shrugging.

Before he could form a retort, Bryce held her arm back, stopping her in her tracks.

On the steps leading down to the grass, sat Keiki, headphones in her ears, tapping her foot as she dug into a bag of chips, crunching loudly.

Bryce looked absolutely helpless, like he had no clue what to do next – so Spencer stepped forward without a second thought, trying her best not to startle her.

When she was in her line of sight, Keiki’s eyes bulged from her head, and she nearly choked on her soda. “Jesus fucking christ, you scared me,” she coughed into the crook of her elbow. “What are you doing here? Did he tell you I left?” “I was worried about you,” Spencer said, evading the last question, trying to play it cool. Keiki hadn’t noticed Bryce at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, but how’d you find me?” She popped a chip in her mouth.

“If you wanna be harder to find, you gotta try a little harder than that,” she said, plopping down on the concrete stair next to her. “Snap maps.”

“I wasn’t trying to go off the grid or whatever. I just wanted some space. It’s no big deal,” Keiki huffed, scooting away from Spencer.

“Maybe so, but you can’t leave after a fight with no explanation. You’re too young to be out here alone this late.”

“You act like I haven’t been through worse,” she muttered.

“I know you have. But you can’t just walk out like that. Bryce is all you’ve got out here.”

“Oh, so you didn’t come alone,” she rolled her eyes. “He begged you to come, didn’t he? Did he not feel like coming himself? Did he have work or something?”

Spencer winced at Keiki’s tone of voice, simultaneously laced with seething rage and hurt. “No, he’s here. You need to talk it out.”

She set her mouth into a thin line, whipping her head around to gaze up at the top of the stairs, flipping him off.. “Go away.”

She gently grasped her wrist, pulling her hand down. “Please, Keiki. There’s a lot of things he won’t say to you, but I’ve heard them. If he didn’t regret what he said to you, I wouldn’t be helping him,” she pleaded, squeezing her wrist comfortingly.

Keiki glanced away, then back to her eyes, then back to the ground, unable to hold her gaze. “Okay.”

Spencer stood up, motioning for Bryce to come towards her. He met her halfway down the stairs, his gaze soft and admiring. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she smiled, reaching out to rub a hand against his arm. “Go work things out with your sister.”

He leaned in, surprising her with a soft peck on the corner of her upturned lips. “Thanks.” He winked and took the rest of the stairs two at a time, a spring in his step.

She watched as he bent down to sit next to her hunched form, nearly dwarfing her. Over the next twenty minutes, she focused on their backs, heads bobbing as they discussed and argued. They gradually relaxed, Kekei’s body unfurling from her condensed form, Bryce draping an arm on the step behind her.

And when they arose to walk towards Spencer’s place at the top of the stairs, they were both laughing, flashing the same grin.

God they were so similar – and didn’t even know it.

“I’m gonna wait over there while you two makeout,” Keiki grimaced, frowning as soon as her joke dawned on her. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Glad you’re back,” she called, but she was already throwing up a peace sign, back turned, probably not registering what she’d said.

The second they were alone, the nerves hit, the heat of his body next to hers already stifling. While she debated whether or not to meet his eye, he spoke.

“You wanna cash in on that kiss now?”

She glanced up, breath hitching in her throat when she realized how close his face was to her own. Her half lidded gaze was trained on his bottom lip, caught between his teeth. As soon as a quiet “yes” fell from her lips, he captured them in a searing kiss.

For a few blissful moments, the only sound between them were their soft sighs of contentment. She couldn’t remember if Bryce always kissed like this – so passionate and so enthusiastic, yet so cool, so suave.

Every methodical movement of his jaw was so practiced, so refined, she felt like underneath the flickering streetlight, in Bryce’s strong grip, she was the one he operated on, her chest reopened, her heart exposed. Everything she had to give was laid out on the metaphorical operating table, and as cheesy as it sounded, there was a chance he could save her.

The kiss was a reawakening for her. She knew what she had to do. She’d never been more sure of anything before.

She pulled back, their noses touching, as she whispered four words she knew he wouldn’t expect to hear. Maybe he’d forgotten what he asked her the moment it left his lips, but she was determined to mend what she’d broken.

“Ask me to choose.”

“Huh?” He panted, running a thumb across her jawline.

“Just ask me.”

“What do you choose?” He laughed, clearly confused.

“You. Always,” she breathed, tugging him forward by the collar of his jacket, sealing her promise with a kiss.

––––

On the ride home, Spencer sat cuddled up next to him, their fingers tightly wound – like they were afraid if the other let go, it wouldn’t be real. 

“Did I say anything… big to you while I was drunk?” She asked, breaking the silence.

Bryce chuckled softly, trying not to wake a sleeping Keiki, curled up next to him, somehow lulled to sleep by the loud, aggressive music blaring from her headphones.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Shit, I really thought I’d made that up,” she shook her head, covering her face with her other hand.

“Nah, you definitely dropped a bomb on me that night.”

“Bryce,” she whined. “Can’t you just tell me? I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Glad I’ve got you hot and bothered,” he grinned, teasing. “Well… you said, and I quote ‘I think I love you’.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she turned, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Did I really?” “I said it back.”

She looked up from her place against his shoulder, mouth agape as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you think or do you know?” She whispered, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“After tonight, I’m more sure than I ever have been,” he shook his head. “Probably more sure of this than anything else in my life right now.”

He used his free hand to cup her face, kissing her lips tenderly. She couldn’t remember a time he’d kissed her with that much care.

“So are you gonna say it first, or am I gonna have to?” He murmured against her lips, earning a surprised laugh from her.

“I’ve done a lot of your dirty work tonight,” she joked.

“Not the kind of dirty I’d prefer, but I’ll give you the credit you deserve,” he laughed as she swatted his chest. He pulled back, holding her gaze with no ounce of fear in his deep brown eyes.

“I love you, Spencer,” he said, his voice taking the most candid tone she’d heard from him.

“I love you, too, Bryce. I always have,” she said, feeling her throat constrict, voice cracking. “I should’ve told you sooner how I felt.”

“I think it happened at the right time. I wanted a lot from you when I didn’t even have my own shit together,” he shrugged, still cupping her face in his calloused palm. “I couldn’t even give what I wanted to receive, ya know?”

“Wow… that’s profound,” she said, in all seriousness.

“Oh, you’re making fun of the meathead for being smart now, huh?” He cackled. Keiki didn’t even stir next to him, despite his booming laugh reverberating throughout the empty car.

“No, no, I’m serious. That’s the most self reflection I’ve ever heard from you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about my mistakes.”

“Me, too. But… we can work through that stuff if you want to talk it out,” she offered, cuddling up to him for warmth again.

“Is therapy your side hustle or something, Spence? Is there something you need to tell me?” He teased, tickling her ribs with his freehand.

She let out an ear piercing shriek, completely caught off guard. “Bryce! Stop it! Please,” she said between laughs, noting the way he smoothly slid his arm around her waist, so that when he stopped, they were closer than before.

“Can you two shut up? I’m trying to sleep,” Keiki grumbled, taking them out of their moment.

“Oh, so you’re exhausted from scaring the shit out of me. By all means, get your beauty sleep,” he said, taking the headband Spencer borrowed from him, slingshotting it directly at Keiki’s forehead.

“That’s it!” Keiki shouted, leaping up on the bench and grabbing Bryce in a headlock, scuffling with him while he most definitely let her win.

Spencer was thankful their car was empty as chaos ensued but she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the fight in front of her – they’d never done typical sibling things like that before. They were robbed of normality from such a young age, and a playful fight was a step in the right direction.

“Uncle, uncle!” Bryce called out convincingly, winking at Spencer. Keiki’s fingers were tangled in his hair, one of his arms trapped in the crook of her elbow. He swatted at her face, trying to get her to let him go.

“We don’t have any uncles,” Keiki said, chomping down on his hand.

“Ow! You little shit – I need these for work –” He hissed.

“Yeah, you didn’t think I was gonna go for the kill? Serves you right for underestimating me,” she huffed, hopping off of him and back into her spot on the bench.

“I won’t do that again,” he smiled softly, reaching over to tousle her hair.

The doors slid open, startling them all.

“I’ll go ahead so you can talk to your girlfriend. Bye, Spence,” Keiki said, waving, strutting out towards the stairs without a second glance.

Her heart swelled at the younger Lahela sibling’s use of the nickname Bryce coined for her.

“So…” She said, as they stepped out into the chill night air for the last time, the first rays of sunlight peeking over the tops of the buildings. “What do we do now?”

“What, after this thrilling conclusion to our months of back and forth?”

“Bryce,” she rolled her eyes, barely holding back a smile. “We barely even talked any of this out. I mean like… where do we go from here?”

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re clean slating it.”

“You don’t wanna talk about that stuff at the party? Or in the supply closet?” She winced. “Maybe when we wanna tackle that, but as of right now, I’m just happy to have you all to myself,” he grinned, snaking his arms around her hips, leaning in to press another kiss on her bottom lip.

“You don’t know how fucking badly I wanna bring you back home right now,” he murmured against her lips.

She groaned, lacing her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. “God, me too.”

“Soon as I spend some time with Keiki and can get some time set aside for us, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he smirked, eliciting a shudder from her.

“I guess we’re dating now, huh?” She raised her brows, quirking her mouth to the side. “Don’t tell your roommates yet, please. I wanna see how long it takes them to put two and two together,” he said, a mischievous look in his eye.

“As long as you don’t tell yours,” she teased.

“Keiki’s definitely gonna notice we’re a thing if you keep showing up and leaving with wobbly legs,” he said, and raised a brow at her.

“Shit, you’re really flirty today,” she giggled, her face flushing because of both the Boston air and his innuendos.

“I’m making up for lost time, baby,” he grinned, pulling her in for what seemed like the hundredth kiss that night, but it felt just as incredible as their first supply closet makeout.

Although they had to part ways that night, both of them were rejuvenated in a way they hadn’t been in months – since they were noncommittally hooking up, secretly hoping the other made some kind of move to solidify what was between them.

And although it took way too fucking long for her to come around, Spencer was finally giving him what he deserved. Every single part of her. No distractions, no restraints, no excuses.

Every quip, every embrace, every kiss they shared that night nourished the flora of her heart, quenching her desperate thirst for his validation like a gentle summer rain, and she basked in it, head upturned like a silent thank you to the universe for giving her the chance to mend what she’d broken.

The vines that’d once had her heart in a constricting hold made way for the blossoming flowers; they’d both never forget their past mistakes, passion-fueled arguments, or the pain they’d endured at the hands of each other, but amidst those heated moments, amidst the beautiful disaster, their garden of love budded, a harmonious existence.

––––

tags: @beccadavenport ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @messofakind ; @violinet ; @hudush ; @altairadtaz ; @agentdumortain ; @drsobemoji ; @levineseth ; @omgjasminesimone ; @lahellacute ; @doctorsurferbro ; @eleanorbloom ; @tarajoyful ; @bobbysmckenzie ; @raleiighcarrera ; @pixeljazzy 

[charrfie]

Alright now that its officially Forzen Friday let's try this post again since it didn't show up in the tags last time-

I'M FINALLY MAKING A FORZEN HC DUMP (kinda AU-ish territory but not really idk exactly) AND NONE OF YOU CAN STOP ME

There are also a few other hcs sprinkled in here related to other characters (like Darnold and Sunkist for example) but Forzen is the main focus!! Despite him being a minor character I latched onto him and fleshed him out sm yall have no idea

Everything under the cut bc this shit is gonna be LONG (and there's also some more doodles that take up a bit of space!)

Also uhh if people like this I might take one for another hlvrai character later bc I have a lot to say about everyone!!

Forzen moved from France to the US with his parents when he was around 12 or 13 (yes, I'm aware that Scorpy and Holly are French Canadian and not France French but that doesn't mean Forzen can't be, I'm just being sure to say this now before someone says something to me about it)

He wanted to go to college and eventually become a game dev, but he didn't have the funds or the support for it (his family thought anything to do with games would amount to a career that would go nowhere).

Because of this, he instead was recruited in the US military. He originally had no intent to join, but after constantly being harrassed recommended to join and being entertained with the concept of being able to afford and pay for college, he caved (hence him telling the science team that his only goal is "to graduate").

He doesn't like his job very much if that wasn't clear.

And neither do most others that have the same job like him.

He was put on a "team" of his own, Team Nice, which was likely arranged as a guaranteed way to get Forzen in the way of danger, and with no one else fighting beside him, he would be easily dealt with- no one would have to worry about him bothering them again. However, he somehow manages to survive all of this, of course. Somehow. He likely knows the real reason he was assigned his own team (if you can even call it that), but refuses to fully acknowledge it for his own sanity, and instead pretends that he's some big, important person on a team that ranks so highly, he's the only one qualified to be in it. (I apologize ahead of time for giving one of the most shitposty and throwaway characters in hlvrai this much depth and angst, there was just potential there leave me alone)

Fast forward to the actual events of hlvrai though. This hc is a little outlandish but I really like the concept!!! So, at one point, Forzen is killed, presumably by some kind of creature that was out and about due to the RenCas. The science team + Benrey stumble across him (act 2 part 2 at around 13 min in for anyone curious), and Benrey decides to use the healing beam Sweet Voice on him. While Benrey and Forzen may not be on good terms anymore, Benrey still very begrudgingly cares about him and didn't want to see him get injured or die. Forzen wakes up a minute or so after the science team exits the room, assuming that he just passed out, nothing more, and goes along with things as normal.

He meets Darnold a while after his first (concious) run in with the science team. Darnold has recently dealt with the science team and helped them out, but is pretty bummed that he couldn't travel with them, as everything was far too scary and dangerous for him. Forzen, wanting to escape Black Mesa and the military altogether, ends up making a deal with him that he'll handle all the dangerous stuff if Darnold can show him a way out.

Now, meeting Darnold is a very new experience for him, since Darnold actually enjoys his company, and actually wants to befriend him! At first, Forzen openly tries to act as if Darnold is a huge deal to put up with- he goes along with with the whole "if you're escaping outta this hellhole with me, you better keep up" kinda deal (despite the fact that he kinda NEEDS Darnold to escape and show him the way out). His walls are still very much so raised, and he doesn't let his guard down as he's not used to others caring about him and his safety. But as time passes, he begins to realize that maybe Darnold DOES want to be his friend, and the tough guy act becomes less apparent.

To preface this next one- Sunkist sensed that something was up (he has a next-level sense of danger when it comes to Tommy's safety) and got to BM as fast as he could, searching every hallway for his boy. This is when Forzen finds him!! He figures that taking Sunkist as a hostage would be enough to get extra info out of the team that's been practically plaguing him lately.

Darnold doesn't know about Forzen's plans to take Sunkist hostage, so is completely fine with traveling alongside him. At one point though, Forzen and Darnold get separated (Forzen occupies him, makes sure hes safe and then runs off to deal with Sunkist). Darnold immediately uses his surroundings to model a quick little teleporter device to get Forzen back, because, you know, the man's a genius. Idc if its logical or not just go with it shhh I've gotta fill in the plotholes with something. That's why Forzen disappears all of a sudden after he's cornered by the science team. He just pops back in front of Darnold suddenly, all confused and loopy from the whole teleportation thing.

As things begin to wind down, Darnold and Forzen make it out of BM and start making a break for it, no idea how they'll get away from BM and to safety somewhere- they didnt really think things through.

Fortunately (or unfortunately for Forzen really), however, G-man picks both of them up. He means to drop Darnold off at Tommy's party, as he observed that Darnold helped his son to safety and is grateful for it. Forzen, though, he intends to "deal with" for messing things up so badly with Tommy, Sunkist, and all of Tommy's friends. This is where Darnold finds out about everything Forzen did and frankly gets really pissed with him since he thought he only had good intentions??? Luckily though, Darnold convinces G-man to give him a second chance, let him go to Tommy's party and apologize, and try things again. G-man, for some reasons agrees- probably bc hes in a good mood, as it IS his son's birthday.

The party is pretty uncomfortable to say the least. Tommy's extremely hesitant to talk to Forzen, but he does, and they end up on neutral terms by the end of it. Uneasy, but neutral. Tommy and Darnold hit it off though, and Tommy opens the invitation to Darnold that he can visit his place anytime now that everything at BM is over with.

As everyone's getting ready to leave, Forzen mentions to Darnold that he doesn't have a place to stay, seeing as the entire military was kinda. Yknow. Wiped out. Obviously wouldn't wanna go back to check anyways. And he has no interest in going home to his parents. So Darnold agrees to let him stay with him since they've become good pals over the course of everything.

Over time, Darnold visits Tommy more and more often. He starts bringing Forzen along, which Tommy is iffy of at first, but their dynamic starts to change and become more comfortable once Tommy sees that Forzen isnt interested in being enemies anymore.

Sunkist and Forzen still don't get along for a very long time. Or, well- it's moreso that Sunkist is very wary about Forzen, despite him not doing anything to harm either Sunkist or Tommy.

Oh yeah and almost forgot to mention one of my favorite hcs (that I PROMISE you started out as a joke but then I got attached) is Sunkist can talk!! So his first spoken interaction with Forzen after Forzen comes over to visit for the first time is literally just him being all threatening and laying down the ground rules bc he doesn't want Forzen to hurt Tommy at all in any way. And of course Forzen about has a heart attack bc "HUH??????? THERE'S A DOG THAT IS SPEAKING HUMAN WORDS TO ME"

UHH I HAVE MORE (I've written out so much shit about dynamics and what I'd think would happen even after all of this) BUT I DON'T WANT THIS TO BE TOO LONG like it already is SO I SUPPOSE I'LL LEAVE IT AT THAT FOR NOW!!!! I hope this isn't too ooc either, I just have Emotions about this series and write too much so why not share it yknow

[marvelmando]

the first breath [p.parker x reader]

notes: hi! i... actually love this. i’m a sucker for soulmate! au’s, so naturally this was somewhat easy to write. this is just a small break from my tempest series, ill continue posting tomorrow (bc it’s my birthday!). tomorrow as in the eleventh, just in case it’s already daytime wherever you’re reading this!

contains: soulmate! au, some swearing

pairing: peter parker + reader

word count: 3.6k

“Hey!”

Peter’s heart thumped hard in his chest. Looking around for the person, he saw a girl greeting a friend, and Peter sighed, unconsciously massaging the band covering his left wrist.

No matter how many times Peter had heard the word, it never failed to send a spike of panic in him. It was just a word, an unfairly common greeting phrase in America, but to Peter, it meant infinitely more.

“Stupid Soulmark,” Peter grumbled to himself as he walked the halls of Midtown High. 

For as long as humans could tell, each individual was born with a word or phrase inked into the skin of their nondominant forearm. The Marks could say anything, but they belonged to the first words spoken to you by your soulmate.

Soulmarks were considered sacred by most of the world, and like most sacred things, they were hidden from public view. Soulbands were a staple in almost every culture, meant to only be taken off in front of your soulmate. Although modern times saw the general acceptance of most controversial topics that were shunned in the past, Soulbands seemed to never grow out of popularity. It was also a sense of security, to make sure that they couldn’t be said by the wrong person.

Some had easily-identifiable Marks. Where there was little room for doubt that the words spoken belonged to your soulmate. Others, like Peter, had simple, one-word Marks.

For as long as he could remember, Peter lived in a near-constant state of anxiety over the word. What would normally be an off-hand remark or a polite greeting made Peter’s heart skip and his knees grow weak.

Whenever greeted with the word, Peter would tense, and respond with a stiff, “Um, hi?” and watch as the person gave him a weird or blank look in return. There had been several instances - none of which he was particularly proud of - where Peter ran away rather than face the sting of false hope.

Most religions viewed Soulmarks as divine intervention, a sign that humans were blessed by the gods. A lot of the time, Peter wanted to curse whatever gods forced them into the arranged couplings.

Failing at keeping the scowl at bay, Peter stopped at his locker, twisting the lock and opening it to return his books.

“Hey, Peter,” a voice said from behind, and he instantly recognized it as Ned Leeds, his best (and only, really) friend. Peter turned only his head, unsurprised to find Betty Brant, Ned’s soulmate, at his side.

Like most matched individuals, Ned seemed to glow with happiness in the presence of their soulmate. Sometimes the dopey smile on Ned’s face was too much for Peter. Whether it was from envy or discomfort, feeling the never-ending, unadulterated joy exuding from him made Peter’s stomach turn and twist uncomfortably.

“Hey, Ned. Betty,” Peter nodded as a greeting, stacking his textbooks in his locker. 

“Are you planning on going to the... internship, today?” Ned whispered, his inability for subtly flaring to life. Though Betty had been Ned’s match long enough to know Peter’s secret, it was a good thing the halls had pretty much been deserted at that point, as the school day had been over for more than ten minutes.

“Yeah,” Peter shut his locker, heaving his significantly lighter backpack over his shoulder. “Just neighborhood stuff, though.”

Ned nodded enthusiastically. Despite how preoccupied he was with Betty, Ned had always been Peter’s go-to Spider-Man guy. Ned called himself “The Guy in The Chair”, but Peter refused to say it out loud unless absolutely necessary.

They parted ways at the train station, where Peter went to find a secluded alley to change into his suit.

-

You had no idea what possessed your parents to up and move the family to New York.

You’d lived your entire life in a small, cozy town in the middle of nowhere. You’d enjoyed that life. Then suddenly, your father called you down one day earlier that summer to announce that in a few months, you’d be packing and moving to the heart of Queens.

Despite having been in the bustling city for weeks now, you still hadn’t gotten used to walking through the crowded streets. People were rude here; though, with the craziness of the city, you weren’t really sure you could blame them. Still, it filled you with frustration when you tried to weave through the streets, only to be knocked roughly in the shoulder and subsequently cursed out for no damn reason.

On the bright side - the only bright side, if you were being honest - was the exponential increase in the possibility that you would finally meet your soulmate.

Your hometown was lovely and quaint, but the general teenage population left a lot to be desired. It didn’t help that there were only fifty other people in your graduating class, or that you’d met and exchanged first words with every single of them already.

That being said, of all the people you’d met at Midtown so far, none of them had said the words branded on your right wrist. But to be fair, there weren’t many opportunities where someone had to yell, “I swear I wasn’t aiming at you!”

You didn’t have to worry about the possibility of danger in your old town, but in New York, you were vaguely concerned that the words would be uttered during a mugging.

Unfortunately, you were quite right to be concerned.

-

“All right, Karen, what do we got?”

Peter watched as the screen flashed, images of satellite footage and recordings of police radio calls popping up and disappearing again as Karen flipped through potential threats. 

“The city is quiet today,” Karen’s robotic voice remarked. Distantly, Peter wondered how the voice was created, and if it was recorded, who the person was behind the voice. It was distinctly human, after all, without the awkward pauses and emphases that Siri usually had. “There have been no reports of any robberies or shootings.”

Peter sighed, bored and disappointed. He’d long gotten over the guilt of wanting some danger in the city. 

Suddenly, before Karen could notify him, he heard a voice cry, “Stop that guy!”

Immediately swinging into action, Peter noticed a man in his mid-twenties sprinting down the sidewalk, shoving himself through the crowd. The woman who’d yelled for help was young, in her thirties, but still wasn’t fast enough to keep up.

Peter swung overhead, gaining distance and landing directly in the guy’s path. The thief skidded to a halt, his eyes widening in obvious fear at the sight of Spider-Man. He clutched a purse to his chest.

“It’s not nice to steal!” Peter yelled, moving to shoot a web at the purse. But the thief was quick, and he ducked under his web, making a run for it.

Peter was faster though and lunged to bodyslam him, sending him into the wall of a nearby building. The impact knocked the purse from his grasp, and it spilled to the ground as the man struggled to get back up. Peter webbed him to the wall and notified Karen to call the police. 

Satisfied with his handiwork, Peter was about to leap onto the roof when an aggravated noise caught his attention instead.

He turned to see you growling, your splayed hand webbed to a streetlamp. The web the thief dodged must’ve hit you instead. Catching sight of him noticing you, you yelled out, “Hey!”

For once in his life, the word didn’t seem to register. He was, for lack of a better word, enchanted by you. Even with furious indignation twisting your face, he couldn’t stop staring at the depth of your eyes and the slope of your nose. Blinking, he said without thinking, “I swear I wasn’t aiming for you!”

It was a stupid response, admittedly. Of course, he wasn’t aiming for you. You’d probably noticed the thief and could probably make the connection.

However, Peter didn’t have time to think about the pointlessness of the protest, because he was too busy registering what you’d said. The word. His word.

Cheeks flaming under his mask, Peter braced himself for the rejection. But it never came.

Your eyes went impossibly wide, and you immediately stopped yanking against the web. Peter watched as you gaped at him, and thanks to the mechanics of the suit, he noticed that your heart rate increased significantly.

Almost in a trance, Peter stepped toward you. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Your mouth closed, and you visibly swallowed. “Depends,” your voice was tight, anxious. “How often do you accidentally shoot your webs at innocent bystanders?”

You flushed as you registered the double meaning behind the words. Peter watched in amusement as your cheeks flushed and you stammered to correct yourself.

“I-I just mean that -”

“It’s okay, I -”

Peter started to placate you, feeling the blood rushing through his veins like soda, popping and fizzing under his skin. But he was cut off by the sound of Karen’s voice, though distant, but urgent enough to draw his attention away from you.

“Peter, there’s a hostage situation that was just called in happening thirteen blocks away,” the AI announced, causing Peter to falter in his steps.

“I-I gotta go,” he told you, hurrying to free your trapped hand from the lamppost, and backing away reluctantly. “I’ll find you, I promise!”

He could see the disappointment on your face as you watched him scuttle off, and every cell in his body protested the distance he forced between him and his soulmate, but he knew he had to go.

“If you were anyone else, that’d be super creepy!” You yelled as Peter swung away. He smiled widely under his mask.

-

Your skin was still tingling and your cheeks were sore from smiling so much when you finally reached your apartment.

All you had to do was look at your mother for her to tell that you had met your soulmate. After spending an hour at the kitchen table being interrogated by your parents, you were finally released to your room to process.

You closed the door gently behind you and slid your back against the wood until your bottom rested on the ground. You tilted your head back, barely feeling the thunk as it collided with the door. Every time you tried to relax your face into a neutral expression, you remembered the way Spider-Man’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, and how your heart skipped several beats as he said the words you knew so well, and your lips crawled back into a giddy smile once more.

Even in your hometown in the middle of nowhere, you had known about Spider-Man. The superhero wasn’t nearly as popular as he seemed to be in the city he protected, but you still remembered the passing of phones and newspapers whenever Spider-Man saved another day or stopped another robbery. Even your high school had a day dedicated to him after a particularly miraculous defeat of the notorious Green Goblin, who’d terrorized the borough for weeks before he was stopped.

Spider-Man was a national - if not global - phenomenon. And he just so happened to be your soulmate.

You’d just reached for your phone to call your best friend from home when a knock on your window startled you.

You jumped, scrambling to your feet. Your apartment was on the eighth story, there was no way a burglar would have climbed all this way to rob you. A burglar wouldn’t knock either, you scoffed internally.

Tiptoeing to the window, you peered through the glass. Even under the dark cover of the late hour, you could distinctly make out the identity of the figure. You hurried to unlatch and open the pane, stepping back nervously when the figure climbed through, rather clumsily for how graceful he normally was.

Spider-Man was polite enough to close the window behind him, cutting off the brisk gust of wind that caused goosebumps to appear on your arms. You crossed them, rubbing them to warm yourself up.

When he straightened and faced you once more, you couldn’t help but stare back. You bit your lip anxiously, suddenly very aware of how messy your room was. You had, after all, just moved in, and most of your stuff was either still in boxes or strewn haphazardly about the room.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” you blurted, unable to help yourself. “We just moved here a couple weeks ago, and... well, y’know.” You gestured unhelpfully around the room.

Every cell in your body seemed as though they were vibrating. The muscles in your chest twitched and your bones ached to close the distance between the two of you. It was as though you and your soulmate were opposite ends of a magnet, and the field around you was pulling your bodies together.

“It-It’s okay,” Spider-Man stuttered, and you realized that he’d turned off his voice modulator. You hadn’t even realized earlier that he was using one, but you now recognized the difference. His voice was higher than before, not as robotic and crackly. “I don’t mind.”

You nodded awkwardly. Spider-Man shifted his balance between his feet, as if he too was fighting the urge to get closer. 

“Uh, how did you find me, anyway?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, there’s this intelligence system installed in my suit, and I had her look up your address,” the eyes of his suit narrowed sharply as if he was wincing, probably at how creepy it sounded. “I hope that’s not too creepy, because it sounds pretty creepy. I didn’t - I mean, I wasn’t stalking you or anything.”

You smiled. Spider-Man rambled adorably, and though the thought of him looking up your address should have been terrifying, you found that you didn’t mind at all. You weren’t sure if it was because he was your soulmate, or if it was because he was a superhero. Either way, you placated him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

Despite your insistence that it was fine, Spider-Man still held himself back, hesitant to move forward with the conversation. To cut through the awkward tension, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I like your suit,” you said, cringing immediately after. While true, that wasn’t exactly what you meant to say.

With the mask, you couldn’t decipher Spider-Man’s reaction. Though, after a brief moment, he chuckled.

“Thanks,” he giggled. You felt yourself relax. “I like your shirt.”

You looked down. It was an old band shirt that you bought at a thrift store a few years ago and was well-worn, the ink faded and several holes stretching the neck out. “Uh, thanks.” You smiled nonetheless because it seemed that Spider-Man was just as nervous as you were, which inexplicably made you feel much better.

“My name’s Y/N, by the way,” you smiled, holding out your hand. “But if you know my address, you probably know my name, too.”

You thought you could see Spider-Man smiling under the mask. It shifted over his face as he accepted the handshake, wrapping his hand around yours. Even through the fabric of his suit, his skin burned like a furnace. From anyone else, it may have been stifling. But from him, the warmth was cozy, a calming heat rushing through your hand and up your arm, wrapping around your heart like a security blanket.

“I do,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. It took you a second to connect what he meant.

The seconds passed and your hands were no longer shaking, but neither of you dropped the hold. You found yourself drifting closer toward Spider-Man, and it took all of your energy not to fall into his chest and wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m guessing that your real name’s not Spider-Man,” you cocked your head. “And I feel like it’s only fair that I know my soulmate’s name, too.”

Your breath hitched. You heard him inhale sharply, too. It was the first time you’d directly acknowledged to each other what you were, and it suddenly was too real for you.

You jerked your hand back, embarrassed. Your hand was startlingly cold now, suddenly bereft of Spider-Man’s touch. You flexed it subconsciously, yearning to reach out and grab his hand again.

“I - I...” you tried to explain yourself, but the wide, questioning eyes of his suit made you falter. You averted your eyes as you took an anxious step back, fighting against an overwhelming urge to flee.

“No, wait -” Spider-Man said, and reached up and yanked his mask off in one swift motion.

Your eyes immediately found his, as if they were pulled instinctively to each other. His soft almond-shaped eyes were filled with worry and caution, the warm brown irises gleaming in the darkness of your room. The lights of the ever-glowing city were the only light filtering in your room, and the shadows cut angles against Spider-Man’s cheekbones, carving his jowls and accentuating his slim mouth. Even in the darkness, you could make out the light smattering of freckles across the slightly crooked bridge of his nose, and the endearing flick of his left eyebrow, emphasized by their worried arch.

The chestnut curls piled on top of his head were tousled from the mask and flipped haphazardly over his forehead. His ears stuck out from his head, but instead of looking awkward, they fit his face nicely, softening the sharp edges of his high cheekbones. They were what made his already stunning face heartbreakingly adorable, and you fought the need to run your fingers over the shell of them.

Though the shadowy bags under his eyes conveyed a sense of exhaustion too severe for his apparent age, Spider-Man was younger than you thought. If you were to hazard a guess, Spider-Man was about your age, give or take a couple years.

“My name’s Peter,” he breathed, looking slightly panicked as you studied him. “Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker,” you whispered, testing out the name on your tongue. The words were gentle but the pounding in your chest was overwhelming. The tension that grew since being in his presence while pulling yourself away made you feel as if you were drowning, gasping for breath. There was a bursting sensation in your stomach, then a warm, satisfying weight that spoke of absolute certainty that Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, was your soulmate.

You felt your body inch toward his, and the relief flooding his face was palpable. You stepped closer to him, relishing in the way your body hummed in delight at the closeness. 

Peter looked down at you, his gaze sweet and caring as he searched your face. There was a moment of content examination spent in comfortable silence as you both memorized every little detail of each other’s faces. 

It should have been awkward, looking and saying nothing, but the longer you spent staring into each other’s eyes, the farther you seemed to fall. It was completely ridiculous and entirely premature, but you were certain that Peter was someone you could fall madly in love with.

“Hi,” you whispered, grinning shyly.

“Hi,” Peter responded just as softly, a mirroring smile stretching his lips. 

Suddenly realizing something, you moved back just enough to bring your hand up. Peter backed away slightly, though it seemed to pain him.

You grabbed at the band covering your forearm, watching Peter’s expression as you unwound it. His eyes went wide, shifting from your arm to your eyes, then back to your arm as the band fell away and exposed your Mark.

Eyes meeting yours for permission, he tenderly took your proffered arm. His eyes roved over the Mark, before he brought his own hand to his mouth, grabbing the middle finger of his glove and yanking it off.

With his bared hand, he reverently ghosted his fingers over the inked letters. The look on his face was pure awe. “I really wasn’t aiming for you.”

He winced as though the words weren’t meant to escape. You chuckled. “I know.”

The light caressing of his fingertips against the sacred Mark shot spikes of pleasure through your body. It was a heady feeling, seeing your life partner touching the place meant for only the two of you.

When he looked back up at you, his face was split in an achingly loving smile. He pulled away, and yanked on the sleeve, revealing his own band.

It was simpler than yours, designed to fit slimly to the skin under his suit. It only took a simple click of his finger for it to release. On the dip of the inside of his wrist was the word, “hey!” written in your handwriting. With gentle movements, you traced the lines with your fingers. Peter visibly shuddered, watching you soak in the Mark.

Though you could’ve stared at it forever, you finally tore your eyes away. You met Peter’s gaze, finding the weight of it easier to handle than you thought.

With your thumb pressed to the Mark, and his hand wrapped around yours, the universe nudged you together. You and Peter fell into each other, lips meeting and melding as your bodies and souls collided like two exploding stars; fate and gravity and destiny crashing into each other and settling happily between you and your soulmate.

Your Mark burned and your lips ached with the pressure of your shared kisses. Reality forced your bodies apart, foreheads resting against one another as you caught your breath, but all at once, your soul felt grounded - you hadn’t even realized how empty it was until it found Peter’s. 

In the safety of his arms, you breached the surface and took your first full breath.

[crookes-library]

Fanfic Year in Review 2020

Tagged by the continuously wonderful @kirstenseas TY hun 

1. List of fics completed this year:

I know what you did last night: The Untamed - WangXian

Seasons: TLK - Uhtred/Finan

We’re All Fools Here:  TLK - Uhtred/Finan

Amber:  TLK - Uhtred/Finan

What Would I Be:  TLK - Uhtred/Finan

Echoes:  TLK - Uhtred/Finan

Moon & Stars: TLK - Sihtric/Ealhswith & Sihtric/ Osferth 

Osbert:  TLK - Uhtred/Finan

The scent of you:  TLK - Uhtred/Finan

& a bunch of Ficlets

Are we noticing a theme? Uhtred/Finan are just that special blend of best friends to lovers & old marrieds that makes me want to tear my face off so I will probably not ever stop writing them 

2. Number of words written:

67,112 words published on AO3 & about 2.6k in tumblr prompts not to mention the scraps and notes I’ve got here there and everywhere which is more than I’ve written in like 8 or 9 years? I’m pretty damn happy about that tbh

3. Your most popular fic this year:

By far ‘I know what you did last night’ which I like to believe is cause its cute but also because its a much bigger fandom and a much more popular ship

My most popular TLK fic is ‘What Would I Be’ 

4. Your personal favourite this year:

This is difficult because there’s a few I’m fond of but I’d say its between Seasons and Osbert. 

‘Seasons’ because it really kick-started my writing this year and I was really proud of it. It felt pretty true to the books and I enjoyed weaving in the little moments between Uhtred and Finan. I’ve debated messing with the end but I’m still very happy with it overall 

‘Osbert’ because it came out of nowhere and just ended up so nice? It was originally going to just be a vent fic of Uhtred’s frustration at being injured/in pain and unable to do things he would normally do because at the time I started writing it I was commuting to work and the chronic pain I get from my hip dysplasia was flaring up real bad but then Finan just took over and decided Uhtred deserves all the softness like he so often does lol

Honourable mentions to The scent of you because it was super fun to write and The Bodyguard because I just enjoy the concept

5. Your favourite scene:

Little Stiorra threatening to fight Finan’s secret lover for his hand in marriage in Amber so she doesn’t have to marry any stinky boys.  I love love love Stiorra, she’s my baby and Uhtred and Finan just having a quiet afternoon being fond dads gives me all the warm & fuzzies

6. A fic or scene that challenged you:

Can I say all of them? Cause if so all of them, writing is hard and I am a very tired person who second/third/fourth-guesses every damn word

Mostly The Bodyguard though because its the first long fic that I’ve even attempted since like my ff.net days. I know what I’m doing with it/where I’m going but actually getting it all down is hard and slow going and I’m trying to forgive myself for that and not pressure myself and end up sucking out all the joy because I really do love it and I want to keep loving it 

7. A line of writing you’re proud of:

Cheating with a couple lines from What Would I Be because it was one of those middle of the night-can’t sleep-sudden inspiration-omg the gay yearning of it all-things that I just really liked.

Once the clean-up is done Finan finds him. There is an easiness in the way that Finan folds into his embrace, steady and familiar. Finan pokes at his ribs when they draw back. “You were worried,” Finan teased, eyes warm with amusement. “As if I’d waste the energy on your scrawny arse,” Uhtred scoffed. But Uhtred was worried, he was, he was, he is.

8.  A comment that touched you:

I’m someone who reads and re-reads my AO3 inbox constantly whenever I’m feeling stuck or I’m having a Bad Brain day and I need the serotonin so its hard to pick one because I’m honestly touched by anyone who takes the time to comment but a special shout out to The Enablers and to @deespiegel because they’re all just so? lovely?? I wouldn’t have written half as much this past year without their encouragement

9. Something that inspired your writing this year:

Uhtred Uhtred Uhtred ❤ I literally cannot emphasise enough how much he means to me and with S4 & the last book coming out I just fell so deeply back into my feels. Looking forward to the next book has gotten me through some really low points the last 13/14-ish years and what is fic if not an outlet for dealing with a story you love coming to an end? Also just the TLK books in general, BC has a terrible (brilliant) habit of writing the main character and his best friend as just super married in his books but Uhtred/Finan might actually be the craziest example yet of all his books that I’ve read. The last 2 books especially (Sword of Kings & War Lord), how is my little gay heart meant to handle knee touches and worrying and inside jokes and “Did he touch you?” HOW?? BC ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES

The Enablers have also been an endless source of inspiration and encouragement. I used to be such a fandom lurker, I was too awkward and shy to talk to anyone but now I have like actual fandom friends?!! And they’re just such amazing people?!! Cannot believe, they’ve really kept me going this past year ❤

10. Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc)

The fact that I’ve written more than I have in absolutely forever and also committing to a long fic, its not done yet but just the fact that I’ve started is huuuuge for me

11. Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

To finish The Bodyguard and just keep writing :)

I think all the enablers have already been tagged so anyone else who wants to do this have at! 

PS Please make a new post if you do :)

[driftbending]

i keep writing and rewriting my reaction to vincenzo because there are a lot but also i'm not certain i articulate everything i hated about the ending.

i will say that i knew no matter what that i wouldn't like the ending because murdering a character as punishment for their misdeeds is not something that appeals to me. i grew up watching kirikou et la sorcière, avatar: the last airbender, lilo and stitch, and (more recently) moana. all of these are stories that say "here is an evil character that we'll stop in a way that doesn't involve jail/murder," and the only exception i make for this is light yagami's death in death note and that's because ryuk killed him as a way to end their relationship, not as a punishment for his crimes. (and gothic lit is exempt bc they have to be resolved with murder.) so, whatever happened, regardless of how much violence the babel four did, none of their deaths would have held any emotional satisfaction for me. yet i prepared myself to be unimpressed by the finale since this is what the set up has always been: vincenzo will kill hanseok, and maybe myunghee, seunghyeok, and hanseo.

i knew this from the beginning. the narrative repeated it so often i got annoyed. there were so many close calls with vincenzo pulling a gun on hanseok that that got boring. by the time ep. 20 rolled around i was just fed up and wanted someone to die because this show had already failed me so many other times with their set ups that i wanted at least one good payoff.

lo and behold, they did end up killing the four characters i thought would die. hanseo died, and though he was my favorite character, and though i felt sad he didn't get any funeral scene or help while he was fending off his brother and that his death served as a sacrifice for vincenzo instead of literally anything else, i didn't cry or even get mad about it. he died and i felt free to stop caring about the rest of the story. yay me! i do understand the fans who hated that he was killed and that he should've survived bc abuse victims don't deserve the storyline hanseo got, but this is not a show i expected to actually care about victims. despite what it says, i knew i wouldn't get this for hanseo waaaaay back in ep 8 when they brought up the victims of that gay banker and just used it as a way for us to root against the banker. they didn't treat those victims with any respect at all and so i was already prepared for them to do it all over again. and they did and it sucks, but again for me i couldn’t get as angry as i normally would about this bc i always knew that the deaths from this show would never mean anything to me bc there was just so much of it it became meaningless.

another thing i knew that was going to let me down about this show is that it didn’t have a single “good” character for me to root for. mr. hong existed, but he was murdered early on. every other character on the show is too corrupt to be the ones i would want handling a reconstruction project for a more ethical world. yes, they made hanseo go through a redemption arc, but they didn’t let him stay did they? they focused so much on deconstruction they never cared about reconstruction. so when they got to the ending where vincenzo just leaves, chayoung and the tenants are thrown into a familiar cycle of court cases and defending their plaza from it being redeveloped, vincenzo just goes on to be a mafia boss again, and the guillotine file is back in the hands of the corrupt intelligence agency that created it on the orders of their president. the only thing that changed was babel group was destroyed bc their two ceos were murdered and the lawyers of their legal rep. were also murdered.

and yet, despite my expectations being so low they were basically non-existent, i was still disappointed. they didn't let chayoung do anything (which i knew would happen because i knew something about her characterization never felt fully fledged to me the way it did to fandom, so i wasn't surprised when they delegated her as a damsel-in-distress/love interest.), they killed myunghee the way we used to burn witches (which how fitting for a female character that is cunning and cruel), and the way they killed hanseok literally made me feel faint and nauseous (i wish this was an exaggeration; the second i saw the drill pointed at him i started feeling this way and i couldn't listen/watch his death scene because it was so brutal).

so, the ending satisfied nothing for me. if people who shipped the main characters were satisfied, whatever. i was never interested in them as a ship (i tend to ship vincenzo and chayoung with other characters), so the ending was even more disappointing bc it really held nothing that mattered to me.

i was also not a person that liked the way each character idolized vincenzo because i preferred his relationships with other characters to be filled with more tension* and the narrative just told me that the writers didn't, that vincenzo's word was what mattered, that the other character's conflicting needs were meant to be eclipsed by vincenzo's needs. so when the characters were all looking into the horizon hoping that vincenzo would some day come back (for what, i ask you?) i was just like :|

(*what do i mean by tension? i mean my favorite version of chayoung/vincenzo was the early eps when she hated him for being liked so much by her father that her flaws as a daughter were highlighted more and chayoung's own hesitancy with murder bumping up against vincenzo’s lack of hesitancy. mr. cho/vincenzo were most interesting when mr. cho wanted the guillotine file to use for his own purposes. the tenants/vincenzo were the most interesting when the tenants wanted to take the gold and vincenzo was trying to stop them. even hanseo/vincenzo was the most interesting when they had the "will you kill me? will you betray me?" tension as they worked together to get rid of hanseok. these dynamics added layers to the characters and reminded us they had their own motivations that were as equally important as vincenzo’s, but not enough of these tensions lasted past a few episodes and almost always would vincenzo's needs prevail with most of the other characters going along with his plans in the end.)

and this is all without mentioning how fandom sort of ruined a lot of the show for me, too. they took the characteristics that made the myunghee/hanseok dynamic one of my favorites and gave it to chayoung/vincenzo to the point where i was always left baffled and feeling like i was watching a different show. (a good point about the end for me is that i feel vindicated watching the scene where chayoung was basically like "i don't like your methods, vincenzo, but i needed to use them as the lesser of two evils to destroy hanseok," bc it did sort of reinforce for me my own reading of chayoung which was that she doesn't mind being corrupt and blackmailing people or scaring them into compliance, but that she was not going to get her hands covered in blood or dance over the corpses of her enemy. those traits belong to myunghee who accepts her role as a villain in a way that is as cool and collected as vincenzo. and lord, imagine what a show it would've been if the writers had made the kings chayoung/hanseok, the last ones that should ever be taken, while the queens were vincenzo/myunghee who would be the ones that would make all the moves, kill all their enemies pieces, and try to destroy one another first as the two most powerful players in the game? imagine if fandom had been able to read chayoung and myunghee accurately enough that i wouldn’t have to read post after post talking about how they needed to see myunghee brutally murdered/tortured by chayoung because they would understand chayoung’s character isn’t going to do that, posts which i hated seeing bc, as i said before, violence for violence’s sake means nothing to me? imagine if the writers cared enough about chayoung/myunghee to develop them more fully? sigh.)

i feel like i'm going nowhere with this and that i'm repeating myself a lot or not making much sense. but i'll end with this: i knew the last two episodes were going to be garbage when they all gathered at toto's restaurant post-fight in ep 19 and all they were talking about was vincenzo this and vincenzo that instead of worrying after the ones that were momentarily kidnapped/injured. like thanks show, for instead of pushing the narrative along we get a vincenzo fan club meeting and another round of "i never had anything to fight for until you came along" which is a convo we've had plenty of times before.

(footnote: i edited this on may 6, 2021 for clarity.)

[waterboysokka]

What You Look Like; ATLA oneshot

Summary: It was easier when Zuko never had to explain why he had his scar. It was easier whenever everyone took to the common theme to never ask. It's harder to avoid a blind girl who doesn't even know it's there. (Three weeks post-canon)

Word count: 3,882

Note: Hii! Welcome to the first ATLA fic related thing I’ve posted on here so far :) This is a one shot that basically is deep 5am talks with Zuko and Toph. I dunno, I love their friendship and I felt like it had the potential to be so deep and intellectual. Soooo, that’s what this is! It’s basically Toph asking about Zuko’s scar (I saw a fic rec list of this prompt somewhere but now I can’t find it?? I would link it if I could!) Anyways, I listened to disney lullaby songs while writing this bc it just?? fit? Idk, it’s soft and kinda sad... But besides all of that, I hope you guys like it!! It’ll also be up on my AO3, which is linked in my bio!

Toph groaned as she rolled over once more in the bed that she could tell was just all-too big for her. She hadn’t asked for a separate room, she actually didn’t mind sleeping with the rest of the group, but Zuko's maids had insisted on each of them getting their own room since there were so many to go around.

It had been only three weeks since the defeat of Ozai and Zuko’s overtaken the role of Fire Lord. She continued to forget that he wasn’t just a prince anymore, he now had responsibilities- bigger than any of them had realized.

So when he had asked them to stay with him until things got in order, none of them were opposed. Maybe it was because they weren't quite ready to adjust to their new life in totality yet, or maybe they were fearful about losing their friend to the immense amount of stress that he had just been put under. 

Whichever it was, it didn’t matter, because they were still here as a team for Zuko.

But all of that didn’t change that the bed that she was put in was incredibly uncomfy for it to be owned by royalty. She felt like she was drowning in sheets and slowly getting devoured by the mattress itself.

Frustrated, Toph groaned and pushed herself out of bed. She needed tea. After being here for a couple of weeks, she was finally able to understand the layout of the palace without being attached to Aang or Sokka’s arm, as she used to be. She knew it was thirty-two steps down the hall to the right, then down the stairs, and one hundred and twelve steps to the kitchen- not counting the columns she’d have to dodge.

She hummed softly as she counted in her head the steps confidently, knowing she didn’t miscalculate considering that this was the fifth time she’d done this walk to get tea since they’d arrived.

“Toph?”

The voice startled her- not because she couldn’t sense someone there, but because she didn’t expect anyone to be awake. All the other times she had done this she had been the only one.

“Zuko?” She asked and raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t expect you to be awake.” “I could say the same thing to you,” Zuko replied.

“Well, I’m just down here to get some tea and then I’m leaving,” Toph explained nonchalantly and walked around the bar, feeling her way down the long, cool counter to the tea kettle (which Iroh conveniently pulled back out at night once the maids left for her after she told him about her occurrences). As she got closer to the tea kettle, the counter got increasingly hotter until she jerked her hand back in shock.

“Did you make tea?” She asked Zuko, who she could tell was now sitting at the long table.

“Mhm,” He murmured, and she heard him take a long sip of it.

Toph rolled her eyes, already knowing that Zuko’s tea was nothing in comparison to Iroh’s. Luckily, she had learned from Iroh about the best way to make tea for herself and it sufficed. Zuko’s wouldn’t- it was basically hot leaf water.

“Are you dumping it out?” Zuko asked, perplexed. His voice wasn’t raspy, which was a hint to Toph that he had been awake much longer than she had realized. Had he even gone to sleep?

“I’m not drinking hot leaf water,” Toph answered with a shrug and began the stove up again to make a much better mixture.

It was silent for a while after that while she worked. She could tell that Zuko was still there, just sitting and silently sipping his tea. He was stressed, he was anxious. She deduced that this probably had something to do with the reason why he wasn’t asleep, and she couldn’t blame him.

Even after the hard time she had given Zuko, she still knew that being the Fire Lord wasn’t a breeze even though he liked to surface-level it to everyone. No one believed what he said, not even for a minute. Which was another running contender for their prolonged stay.

The tea kettle began to hiss, and she immediately took it off of the stove, cautious not to wake anyone else up, and poured herself a cup. She got ready to leave when something in the back of her mind tugged at her to sit with Zuko, just for a minute.

So, that’s what she did.

Toph approached the table and felt around the chair sides and pulled it out for herself. She placed the drink on the table in front of her and plopped down into the seat, adjusting herself to where her tea was placed promptly in front of her for convenient drinking.

“I feel weird asking this, but how ya been holding up?” Toph said as she took a sip of her tea, she took a long sip of it, even though it had definitely burnt her tongue because she hadn’t waited long enough for it to cool.

“Good,” Zuko replied. It was a short reply, one that she definitely expected from him.

Silence hit again. She wasn’t very good at opening up to people on her own, let alone having other people do it with her. But she felt like she understood Zuko in a better way than some of the others, and she couldn’t depict why- she hadn’t ever asked about his past or even what his plans were for the future… or even what he looked like.

“I bet it’s hard,” Toph said, “getting thrown into running an entire Nation.”

“Yeah,” Zuko replied with a sigh. “But it’s what I expected. It’s what I was born to do.”

Another hit of silence. Toph blew on her tea to cool it off and heard Zuko do the same.

“How, though?” Toph asked bluntly. It was her only move she knew to continue the conversation. She was curious.

Zuko hadn’t spilled much of his life to anyone except for Aang, and while they were all incredibly close now, it had never seemed to come up about his past- just like it hadn’t ever come up about her’s or Suki’s. They were all too busy fighting and defeating Ozai that they had forgotten that they didn’t know much about each other.

Zuko sighed and she watched his outline run his hand through his hair (she presumed he had hair, unlike Aang, who she’d been notified to be bald).

“What do you mean how? Azula’s younger than me,” Zuko explained. Toph could tell he was bordering defensiveness. She pressed on anyways.

“You wouldn’t have wanted to fight your dad or your sister if there wasn’t a reason,” Toph said. “It just doesn’t add up like that.”

Zuko’s heart rate quickened. He wasn’t speaking. Toph knew this all too well- the attempt to create a lie that threw off the actual answer. He should really have known by now that that wasn’t going to work.

“Don’t lie. I can tell you’re trying to,” Toph bluntly pointed out. She took another sip of her tea and then placed it down in front of her again.

“I was banished. I had to find the Avatar to restore what I thought was my honor. I did that for three years before deciding it wasn’t right and my destiny was to join Aang,” Zuko explained in an overly-simplified, overly-glazed way. Toph rolled her eyes. “I already know that part. I’m talking about before that. I wanna know why you were banished.”

“Why? I thought you were going back to sleep.”

As much as he had worked on letting people in, this unexpected press of information of his past- from Toph of all people- was close to stepping over the line. He didn’t have time for this. He had things to do, orders to get through with, staff and guards and armies to command. He had his job to do once dawn broke.

Toph didn’t answer and took another long sip of her tea.

“I said something I shouldn’t have in a meeting.”

“And?”

“There is no ‘and’. I said something I shouldn’t have, it upset him, and he banished me.”

“Just like that?” Toph raised an eyebrow. This conversation was going nowhere fast, and she knew it. She could bail out now and go and sleep until the sun rose in a few hours before she started asking the big question.

“Mhm.”

She rolled the idea around in her head in the silence and opted against it. This question had nagged at her for a long time, and although it seemed to be like pulling eye teeth, it needed to be asked. She wasn’t sure if she could even go back to sleep anyways.

“What does Aang look like?” She asked. She started simple- one she knew that he could answer in a breeze. She felt his heart rate drop down to a more normal rate and his body relaxed.

“Hmm,” Zuko thought. He didn’t say anything for a minute, as if to gather the best explanation of his friend as possible. As much as it probably shouldn’t have been, it was a lot of pressure to describe one of their closest comrades to her. He hadn’t ever really thought about what Aang looked like- he just knew. He could just see him and know that, well… he was Aang.

“Well, ah… He’s short. Yeah, just a little bit taller than you, actually. He’s bald, obvious- well, maybe not obviously… sorry,” Zuko stuttered. “He has really big blue eyes. Like huge. There’s always like an adventure behind them, too. You can just tell that he’s always looking ahead- looking forward to something. He has his Airbender tattoos that are light blue and they’re, ah… they’re arrows. They start at his forehead and travel round his arms and wrists and stuff… it’s cool. He’s super thin, but I don’t know if you can see that- well, not see, but I didn’t know if that was important, er… maybe not.

He smiles really big, too. His whole face is centered around his smile. Katara told me that when he grew his hair out, it was brown, but I’ve never seen it… he wears lots of oranges and yellows, too. It’s pretty standard Air-Nomad colors.

I can’t really think of anything else… I think… I think that may be all.” Zuko breathed a sigh of relief as he tapered off what seemed to be his one long run-on sentence. He was known to do that when he was uncomfortable, or even under pressure. Hell, sometimes tired, too. These were all things he was feeling. He glanced up at a Toph who was looking up- not necessarily across the table to him. Just… up. A small smile was planted on her lips.

“I hope that helped some,” Zuko said and took another sip of his tea. He didn’t even realize how dry his mouth had gotten. It shouldn’t have been a difficult task describing Aang, but it was deemed to hold a lot more responsibility than just some random bystander looking for the Avatar. He knew he had to do it justice for Toph.

“Okay, now Katara,” Toph said as she flicked her gaze back down to reality. She took her teacup in her hands and cradled it to give her hands warmth. Zuko’s eyes widened for a second at the realization that she was going to go through the entire group. He cleared his throat and thought for a couple minutes, just like he had with Aang. “Well, she’s taller than you and Aang. But, she’s not really tall… just- average. She’s just average height. She has long, ah… dark brown hair? Sorry, I don’t know hair colors that well. Anyways, she also has big eyes, but not in the same way as Aang’s. You can kinda just… read her whole past in her eyes if you wanted to. You can see the pain and the fear that she’s… yeah. Uh, and they’re blue- like, deep, icy water blue. Her lips are naturally downturned- I think, but… you know how Katara is. She also has these two… what’d Sokka call them? These two… hair loopies that come down and… I dunno… frame her face? Her and Sokka have kinda ah… like a golden complexion? Not like gold- please, don’t think they’re gold- but it’s a deep tanned shade… I guess. I don’t know, it’s hard to say without sounding weird or… The colors that her and Sokka wear are the ones of the Water Tribe, so lots of blues and whites and stuff… they complement their eye colors and skin tone, too… Katara kinda has this disposition where she could hug you or fight you at the same time if that helps… I don’t know.”

He ran his fingers through the divots of the wood carved out in the table from wear-and-tear over time. They were smooth curves now, no rigid edges or stray wood to prick his fingers like they used to when he was a kid. It was his distraction, ultimately, from his stumble of a description of his friends, and mostly, Toph’s reaction.

There was no talk again for a minute, only the faint sound of fire igniting briefly for Zuko to heat up both of their teas. He wasn’t sure of the time anymore, but they had been sitting long enough for their drinks to no longer carry any warmth, which signified a significant length of time.

“Sokka?” Toph asked. He watched as her gaze, just as before, leveled back out with where her head was positioned.

“He… well, he looks like Katara, except… if Katara was a guy. They are siblings so it makes sense. He’s, ah… how do I say this- he’s not built. He’s super… think like a piece of wood. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing I think it kinda fits him, I guess. Oh, he’s taller than Katara and shorter than me… I wish I had a better visual to give you besides just the in-between height of Katara and I. His eyes are the same type of blue as Katara’s but instead of pain, they hold curiosity and… thrill, maybe? It doesn’t mean there isn’t any hurt in his eyes- in Aang’s either- but in Katara’s, it’s kind of hard to navigate around her hurt… yeah. Believe it or not, but Sokka’s hair is kinda long… I guess he used to shave the sides or something, but now it’s all grown out and stuff so he just pulls it back. He has this smug attitude that’s kinda just… all over his face? He always looks like he’s ready to do something or maybe even that he’s hiding something… But there’s also seriousness that hides in his face, too. He wears the same kind of blues and whites like Katara does, again, standard for the Water Tribe… ”

He waited hesitantly for her reply. It was a lot harder than he thought to describe these people who he’d become so close with. He just hoped he hadn’t messed up any of her visions of them. He wasn’t sure what her plan was for all of these descriptions, or why she'd even asked him.

He knew the others could do it better- make it more poetic and imaginary. But he wasn’t that person. He was the Fire Lord- and even before he was the Fire Lord, he was a silenced Prince. Creativity didn’t flow through him like it did the others. He wished it did, sometimes. Maybe then he’d be able to give Toph illusive descriptions of the people that mattered most to her.

“I hope those were okay,” He said, and rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palms and pressed in hard so he could see dots. He was getting tired, but he couldn’t sleep even if he was. He hadn’t been able to. He had gotten comfortable with tiredness. He knew it wouldn’t last forever, but adjusting to the new role was harder than he thought.

“They were,” Toph reassured him quietly. It was sincere- he had no doubt. Toph, who was usually loud and stubborn and a tough fighter, was more reserved at night than Zuko would have thought. Maybe it was because she was tired, or because she had seen her friends in full bloom for the first time. Whichever it was, he couldn’t tell.

They sat there in silence again, moments of tea being sipped were exchanged, but mostly just quiet. It was solemn, and peaceful. Nothing was in a rush to be said, no battles to fight or rebuild plans to do- it was nice.

“Zuko,” Toph sighed. “What do you look like?”

Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat as his heart rate sped up again. He didn’t know where to begin or what to say, and surely he was stupid for believing that she wasn’t going to just let him slide. He couldn't just ignore the brutality that slashed half his face. He couldn’t sit with the guilt that she didn’t know it was there because he didn’t tell her.

His eyes widened slowly as he came to a sudden realization of what Toph was doing. It was comical, truthfully. He almost laughed. This was her way of getting the story. He wasn’t sure how she knew that his banishment had something to do with his cosmetic looks, but he gave her props for it nonetheless.

He took a deep breath and locked his gaze on the wood table as an anchor.

“I’m tall. Tallest, actually. I have really pale skin, but that’s just a Fire Nation thing… I don’t consider myself to be… built? I’m not exactly like Sokka but I'm not crazy buff either if that helps. My eyes aren’t as big or… full of adventure as the others have. I don’t know what all you can see, but I know they don’t have that. They’re brown, but almost everyone in the Fire Nation has brown eyes. It’s nothing special. I have shaggy hair- well, it’s black, and I have to pull it back for Fire Lord stuff, so I guess shaggy is the best way to describe it. I like it, I guess. I don’t feel confined with it. I wear a lot of reds and golds and blacks, which are Fire Nation colors. Right now I’m just wearing a… red shirt and black pants? Black slippers? I don’t know if that part helps or not… I also always look dissatisfied. At least, that’s what Sokka tells me. I don’t really know what he means by that…”

Zuko paused for a minute. Toph was staring across to him now as if she could recognize where he was. Her eyebrows were stitched together as if attempting to put his puzzle pieces together.

“And then there’s my… my scar.”

Deep breath.

“It covers my entire left eye… It doesn’t even open fully anymore. It bleeds out around to my ear and stops just before my jawline. It doesn’t hurt anymore, in case you’re wondering. It’s healed. It’s been since I was banished, so… three years. But, it’s there.

There was more to that story, by the way. My banishment. I didn’t just say something and was kicked out. I didn’t back down from an Agni Kai to… well, to prove to m- … Ozai, that I was stronger than he thought I was. That I deserved to be in the meeting. I didn’t think it’d be my own father I’d fight. I pleaded for some kind of relief and reprieve. All I got was a burn so deep that my skin almost melted off…”

There was silence.

No tea sips, no shifting in chairs. There wasn’t even really the sound of breathing anymore. It was still air.

This story had the ability to do that.

“Can I feel it?”

Zuko didn’t question it, or back away. He nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

He pushed himself out of the chair and walked around the table. He slowly crouched down until he was level with Toph, his hand steadying himself on the corner of the table, his fingers circling the divots so smoothly carved once more.

He took Toph’s hand, almost twice the size more compact of his own, and gingerly placed it on his cheekbone. He swallowed and shut his eyes, allowing her small, calloused hand to run slowly over it.

Toph wasn’t a gentle person by nature. But the minute that her hand touched his scar she felt his pain a thousand times over- intense and deep and wretched. She moved her hand slowly across his face, the ridges telling each their own thread of agony and grievance. Her hand roamed, unsure of where or if it ever was going to stop. If the story of his pain was ever going to cease. She blinked back tears as she finally reached his jawline. Untouched and human. Boyish and youthful. Peace.

She took her hand off of his face and cleared her throat, unsure of what else to do. She had gotten herself to this point- to this level. Now what?

She felt his presence leave due to the shift in cold air that shuffled in and heard him sit back down across from her, respectively.

Again, there was silence.

Not the same kind of silence where it was stilted, or even tense. It was an understood silence. An ‘I know your pain’ silence. It was gentle and welcomed and fluid.

So, they sat there for a minute. Neither unsure of how else to go on or continue their conversation. They sipped their tea in offbeat patterns. Long, slow, drawls of tea.

As the sun began to rise, Zuko realized that his job was beginning. He wasn’t a banished prince anymore, or a kid with an uncontrollable rage and fear of his father. Although that kid still existed in him, it wasn’t center stage. Fire Lord Zuko was. And as the dawn rose, so did he.

He gathered the two pieces of china from the table, both now completely empty of their tea. He put them on the counter for a maid to clean later.

Zuko glanced back at Toph- still sitting at the table, only this time, she was looking at the sunrise from the fully-bloomed windows in front of her. He knew she wasn’t looking at the sunrise, but he hoped that maybe she was picturing her friends in the same ways he had said- hopefully, even better. There was a small smile on her face, too. One of understanding.

He knew then that although she wanted to know his past, there was a part of her that wanted to be able to see her friends, too. He’d never know why she had asked him rather than asking a more creative mind, or even a closer friend, but he knew he would always be appreciative of being the one who did it for her.

Zuko’s lips upturned slightly and he turned to leave, carefully in an attempt to not disturb Toph’s somewhat mediation.

“Hey, Zuko?” He looked back over his shoulder to the girl, her face and gaze unmoving from the now more evident daybreak.

“Thank you.”

[infinitestarsintheskye]

Agents of Shield Series Finale thoughts (finally)

Or alt title Skye finally sits down to write this after two days of being overtired, overwhelmed and as a result, anxious! Feeling a WHOLE lot better today after a few anxiety naps and watching Phineas and Ferb on Disney + (that show is just pure serotonin I swear) 

God what can I say that hasn’t already been said. I’m so beyond happy. I have no idea what my expectations were but by god were they exceeded. I cannot say enough how happy I am. They saved the world with empathy. How utterly beautiful. The endings everyone got were all just so utterly utterly deserved. I’m still in shock really. 

If you haven’t already guessed it, I did not make it to my alarm at half past 6 on Thursday morning. I woke up at quarter past 5 after barely three hours of sleep and just could not help myself. I finished, cried for two hours and collapsed for another hour and a half. And she wonders why she’s felt like utter shit the past two days...

ANYWAY

DEKE DEKE MY WONDERFUL MY MOST DEAREST DISASTER SON!!!!!!!!! I love him so much. I know he’s happy in alt. 1983 but losing him was honestly such sweet sorrow. I had a feeling that he would sacrifice himself but I could not have guessed that it would happen in honestly such a good way. He still gets to live, gets to be the director of Shield (god help them) and I’m equally happy and devastated for him. I love Deke so much, he is very dear to me, and the money I would pay for a miniseries of him just absolutely killing it as Shield director in the 80′s with his side business of being a popstar, like the amount doesn’t exist. Also his impersonation of Fitz was so incredibly hilarious, Jeff Ward actually does a not bad Scottish accent and the IMMEDIATE adoption of the pregnant lady pose just ABSOLUTELY SENT ME!!!!!!!!!!

Mack. I’m so happy he lived. His team up with Sousa will forever give me life. Them taping goddamn chronicoms to the missiles to blast a hole in the ship, like whoever came up with that idea, you are now my favourite human on this earth. It is so supremely dumb but I love it so much. As much as there was BIG concern going into this that he was going to die, ta Henry, I never once felt worried for him. Like he never even came close???????? Also a raise to whoever put him in that big long jacket at the end like oh my god are you serious, AMAZING

Yoyo. I had NOT A SINGULAR CLUE, NOT EVEN AN INCLINE of what was going to happen to Yoyo. Her little team up at the end with Piper and Davis (DAVIS ROBO!DAVIS YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS BICKERING WITH PIPER WE LOVE TO SEE IT) was beyond incredible. Yoyo had such a great arc this season, and I’m just so happy to see it concluded so well, plus that shot of her zooming out of the car at the end was beyond A+ it was beautiful.

May. May, wonderful May. Her appearing OUT OF GODDAMN NOWHERE TO JUST ABSOLUTELY END SIBYL IS JUST FOREVER GOING TO GIVE ME LIFE. THE CAVALRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was so intrigued with where they were going with her arc this season, like I enjoyed empath May but I was so curious to see where it was going and oh what a pay off it was. I literally shouted AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH at my screen when she put her hands into that machine and Coulson explained it, BECAUSE IT ALL JUST MADE SENSE. Also it was 100000000000000000000% her idea to name it Coulson Academy, and no one disagreed with her. I loved her little call back to S1 with her just being the pilot. In general I thought all of the call backs were very well handled and placed, nothing felt too fan servicey it was all very natural and organic bc these writers really just know what they’re about and are just so incredibly good at their jobs. ANYWAY MAY. I’m happy that she’s getting a little bit of rest from the field, she absolutely deserves it. 

Coulson. I’m not gonna lie, I wasn’t sure about Robo!Coulson when he was introduced at the end of last season, but my god am I so happy for him now. He is truly the heart of this show, the whole thing began because a stubborn group of fans refused to accept that he had died. And really isn’t that a theme that has carried us through this entire show haha? I was so terrifed for about 30 seconds that Sibyl was going to turn him against the rest of the team, so the RELIEF of May popping out of the ceiling to JUST END HER ENTIRE CAREER WAS INCREDIBLE.  The reappearance of Lola ABSOLUTELY SENT ME. I also love that after years of Coulson refusing to let Mack work on Lola, Mack just went “Fuck it” and built one from, I assume, scratch. He is going to be the best Grandpa to little Alya Fitzsimmons and you can tear that headcanon from my cold dead hands. Again, what a deserving ending. I could not be happier for him, that last shot was just perfect. 

Daisy. Oh boy, we’re getting into my heafty emotions now. I would just like to say that her entire arc throughout this entire show is one of the most incredible, most amazing and well crafted and well thought out characters arcs in television history. Watching her go from this lost little hacker with a bit of a smart mouth, to this strong and powerful LITERAL SUPERHERO has actually been a privilege and I cannot stress enough how much I have loved watching her grow and evolve over the past seven years. That being said, I am low key FURIOUS that they made me think that she was dead for even just a SECOND. I WAS SOBBING NO AT MY PHONE FOR THAT ENTIRE LITTLE INTERLUDE LIKE NO FUCKING WAY ARE YOU GOING TO KILL HER OFF AND LEAVE HER BODY IN SPACE I WILL NOT LET YOU, LET ME GO SHARPEN MY PITCHFORK I AM COMING FOR YOU. I will now invite you to imagine the look of absolute and utter joy and relief on my face when I saw she was alive. Skye/Daisy holds such a special place in my heart. Her whole thing with Sousa this season was SO UTTERLY OUT OF THE BLUE BUT SO INCREDIBLY DELIGHTFUL AND DESERVED!?!?!?!??!?!!?!? Like out of everything I think that little plot detail is what surprised me the most, and I surprised myself by really loving it as much as I did. I would have been happy if she had ended the series single but I’m so happy that she has this wonderful partner who loves her so much and has her back and just looks after her like it’s just like the most wonderful added bonus which she deserves. Sousa is also like a whole ass snack and as I have been saying in my tags for the past few weeks, DAISY GET IT!!!! I love that she ended the series with her own little family, her sister and Sousa. I just. I cannot even think about that without welling up. Daisy has a family, and she chose it and she loves them all so much. I know it was last weeks ep too but I will never get over her calling Simmons her sister. Never ever ever for as long as I live. I’m so happy for her. So beyond happy.

FitzSimmons. Here we, here we, here we fucking go. What to even say apart from big, long and loud sobbing noises, cause that’s all I have really been able to do in regards to them for the last two days. Happy isn’t a strong enough word. There is no word big enough, nor all encompassing enough to say how utterly UTTERLY happy I am that they got their most beautiful happy ending. Fitz guiding her through her memories, the second Jemma said Alya I started screaming, I just I knew that was her name, and him just being so gentle with her whilst she was remembering, like oh my heart. I excuse them everything, the lack of Fitz (WHICH WAS NO ONE’S FAULT I WILL NOT HAVE ANYTHING ABOUT THAT HERE) this season was honestly just paid back tenfold in the scenes that we got of him. His frustration IMMEDIATELY at everyone not understanding their plan was so amazingly hilarious. Simmons half remembering everything was both heartbreaking and hilarious, the scene of her asking for a supersuit like Daisy’s was incredible and both Deke and Daisy responding to her like she was a child they needed to trick into doing something for them, like yes if you come with us you’ll get a supersuit and a bit chocolate, incredible. The acting in both episodes from both IDC and Elizabeth was just truly something else. The fact that neither of them have been nominated EVER for their work on this show is nothing less than criminal. Her face when she remembered Alya. Dear god my heart. I have watched that scene of them reuniting with her at least 3000000000000000000000 times since Thursday morning. I won’t ever forget it. What a beautiful scene. What an incredible scene. “You were guarding our everything.” SHE’S THEIR EVERYTHING. THEIR UTTER EVERYTHING! I’M ACTUALLY LIKE SOBBING WRITING THIS I WILL NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER FOR AS LONG AS I LIVE GET OVER THE FACT THAT THEY LET FITZSIMMONS LIVE IN PEACE FOR FOUR WHOLE ASS YEARS, LET THEM HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, MOST PRECIOUS LITTLE BABY GIRL AND THEN LET THEM LIVE IN PEACE AGAIN I JUST!!! I HAVE WANTED THIS FOR THEM FOR SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO VERY LONG!!! (also @ marvel I’m not in a place where I want any kind of continuation or spin off at the moment but I would watch a FitzSimmons miniseries of them just being happy and domestic and working in space for 4 years. Just SOMETHING to consider) I cannot thank the writers enough for finally finally letting them have their happy ending. They have been through so much, and it was all worth it because it led them to their happily ever after and to their little girl and I just, that is everything. ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!! I have talked a lot in this post about people deserving their endings but honestly none more than FitzSimmons. Fitz playing with Alya in their little garden whilst Simmons watches with the biggest smile on her face. How perfect. I could not have dreamt a better ending for them I’m so so so so so SO beyond happy for them. And god that little girl is just the most precious. Her gleefully exclaiming “Mama!” at Simmons is the EXACT moment that I started sobbing and did not stop for the rest of the episode. Also I know they didn’t explicitly say it but they are 100000000000000% at their cottage in Perthshire, again you can pry that headcanon out of MY COLD DEAD HANDS!!! I’m just so so so so so so so so SO beyond happy that FitzSimmons got the ending that they deserved so much. They can be at peace now. I have loved them since LITERALLY day one, and I cannot imagine what would happen if I got to tell little 15 year old me how they ended up. I’m sending her good vibes to the past, I know she got them, because I never ever ever gave up on that hope for them. FitzSimmons, to me, represent so much goodness and hope and just everything I aspire to have in a relationship (without the constant separation and the death and all that fun shit), but just the utter love they have for each other. (thanks for the impossible standard to which I hold all men now JedMo). I have been on just a rollercoaster with these two characters, their relationship and each of them as individuals have taught me so much and brought me so much comfort, especially during some of the hardest times I have ever experienced. I’ll tell some of those stories one day. Not yet. I’m not ready. I’m still honestly just reeling. I have wanted A Happy FitzSimmons ending for SO LONG and I just cannot believe that we got it. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU. 

Writing this felt very cathartic. It’s almost been good to just get ALL OF THE EMOTIONS OUT. I think I’m actually going to take a nap now. I forget how tiring it is to be so emotional. What can I say to end this except reiterate again just how happy I am with that finale. I’m so thrilled that they gave us such a beautiful ending, it really was just a love letter to the series as a whole and to it’s message. I think it was quote from Jeff Bell that I saw and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since, because of how true it is, and really that’s why I hold this show so dear and why I have done for the past 7 years, and that is that this show is ultimately about hope. What a beautiful thing. 

[after-lauhgter]

Hey dude, I really like your music taste so do all the music questions that you didn't already answer 🌚

OK DUDE HERE THEY COME (except 1,6 & 14) ... ok lets do number 1 again  What's a song you've been listening to a lot lately? as the world caves in by Matt Maltese, if I get high by nothing but thieves, and literally anything off waterparks’ new live album, that thing makes me feel so ALIVE bc like LIVE MUSIC  Is there an album you recently discovered and are obsessed with it now? well waterparks live in the uk obviously but if the last 6 months count as recently, then the new abnormal by the strokes. its... absolutely breathtaking. I don't have words. 0 words. except these dudes know what the fuck they’re doing. and then I found the devil and god are raging inside me by brand new and jeeesus. literally Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ was my most played song in 2020 AS IT SHOULD BE bc its EVERYTHING this album is THE SHIT. every song is just *chef kiss* like there's limousine (omg limousine) and you won't know and not the sun and AHH listen to these albums omg  Put your playlist on shuffle and show the first 10 songs. No cheating. i assume “your playlist” means all my saved songs so Topography by Civilian (pls go listen its SO great) Na Na Na by mcr yees issa classic  Du schreibst Geschichte by Madsen omg geeerman  just saying by EDEN (pretty pretty pretty) Westerland von den Ärzten another classic  letdown by nothing,nowhere. sad but the good kind of sad  The Man by the killers making fun of toxic masculinity gives me LIFE  Graffiti by CHVRCHES YES  and death stranding by CHVRCHES too YES SO GOOD simmer by Hayley Williams, a queen  How do you tend to discover new music? If you do at all of course I do enjoy what Spotify suggests, like my weekly mix brought a lot of bops in the past, although sometimes it just sucks lets be real. I also like the artist- or album-radio, when I wanna find something similar to an album but not the album.  and another thing I lovvve is when artists I like recommend music, for example, have you seen dallon weekes instagram stories? THE TASTE? bc yes, someone who writes music like that MUST have a superior taste in music and he fucking does. 

What app do you mostly use to listen to music? Spotify :) Is there an artist that you feel ashamed of listening too? I can't think of anyone so probably not  What is your favorite album cover art? omg. I have to go with more than one. so there's where the mind wants to go/where you let it go by I the mighty, one of my favorite albums of all time, and I'm going to say it how it is, I LIKE THE COLORS. the blue-ish imagine with the red omg. look at it pls.  Also fandom by waterparks looks SO COOL. again the COLORS  and I love the art for Isola by Kent.  I recently discovered you wouldn't believe what privilege costs by civilian and I think that cover is pretty cool too.  well and then there's petals for armor by Hayley Williams, the cover art is so fucking powerful Jesus I get goosebumps just thinking about it. in case you don't know about it, long story short: there's been a lot of shit going on in Hayleys life in the past. relatable imo. then they made after laughter and its been like u know what fuck it we’ll just laugh and dance through the pain. together. and I LOVED the vibe omg it gave me so much. but for Hayley it kinda postponed REALLY dealing with shit. she came home from touring with AL and she also got divorced during the AL era and everything's shit and out of all that came petals for armor. and in it she reclaims femininity, being alone, being powerful, being a women, everything. and ah yeah we were talking about the cover art, the cover is her, having a line of squares on her face, three of these squares are tattooed on her fingers though bc its where her ex husbands initials used to be that she got covered up. WHAT A MOVE. THE POWER.  (if anyone is interested in hearing Hayley talking about/explaining all this, I really recommend watching her interview with zane Lowe. its SO GOOD basically free therapy) How much did your parents influence your music taste? a. lot. my dad listened to a lot of “dad rock” you may call it, I guess a lot of dads listened to stuff similar to this. Deep Purple, the police, simple minds, Green Day, Billy Talent, the scorpions and things like that. what influenced me the most tho was the beatsteaks (german band, very good), die Ärzte (german band, very good) and LAST BUT NOT LEAST the fricking blues brothers. my favorite movie (not the 2000 remake, go watch that in hell where it belongs), a great, charismatic band, unbelievable live performances. very big WOW from me.  Do you own any vinyl? don't get me started omg. I DO. I wish I could take a photo but my records are at my parents house so ill just name my favorites.  -after laughter and brand new eyes by paramore -violent things by the brobecks and their song boring on 7inch (this is very rare ok) -razzzzmatazzz by idkhow in gold :) -may death never stop you by mcr (my first one, I bought it first and then bought a record player for it, that's how it started lol) -omg the black parade is dead by mcr, this was never available on vinyl until record store day 2019 (?) and I hunted that bitch like idek what it was insane but I found a super cute small record store and the owner didn't have copies of it bc NOBODY DID but he fucking CALLED THE LABEL even though it was way too late and he asked if they'd send him a copy and THEY DID I FUCKING OWE THIS MAN  -and omg Isola by Kent (in Swedish tho bc the English version was never pressed on vinyl) this was intense. I searched for like 2 weeks and then, on google results page 8 or something, I found what could've been the only copy on the damn internet and it was very expensive but its MINE NOW -my signed vertigo vinyl by EDEN, its clear and on side D it doesn't have music but a little message engraved it the vinyl IT IS CUTe -Placebos MTV unplugged! I am so I love with this album. SO. in love. and one day, when I was in Berlin to see palaye royale, back when we had concerts, I walked by a random record store and they have like 4 records left bc they were closing or idk and the only one displayed in the window was this one. tell me about FATE  Do you own any cds? not many. sometimes when im at the store and I see ones I know or like, I just buy them and put them in me moms car bc I want her to listen to them. or when I find a cd by a smaller artist I enjoy, I buy it just to push the nachfrage. HI i am HERE and I WANT this music  Is vinyl really better than listening on a digital device? im not gonna be that middle aged white male audiophile that hates on our generation for using Spotify. bc its great. I think its just different. I mean im sorry I don't carry my record player on the bus with me, pls forgive me for using my phone? having immediate access to most of the music that is out there? wow. what a concept. I love the internet. YES TECHNOLOGY. but. vinyls are... different. I feel likes its a different kind of listening. I feel like youre rly LISTENING. and that way isn't better, or right, and im not saying it works like this for everyone. but when I put a record on, my only activity at that moment is listening to music, I sit down and I listen. to the entire album. so skips and no pauses, bc that's how it works. and I think that sometimes, that can do a lot for you. if you let it.  and besides that, physically owning a record makes me happy on a level nothing else really does. fuck I love music so much and when I fall in love with it, I fall hard. and then owning a copy of it, something I can touch, something that is MINE, putting it in my little shelf, looking at it every few days and just being in love? fantastic feeling.  What is a genre of music that you tend to go to for comfort? sad shit. I feel like I can get great comfort from the sad shit. or maybe just slow shit. and songs that mean a lot to me and have been around me for some time, they have this other level of comfort. like for Emma, forever ago by bon iver for example. I have a playlist, maybe I'll reblog this again and link it ;) Do you tend to like poppy upbeat songs, or more intricate and interesting songs? both. sometimes I wanna have complicated stuff and analyze the shit out of lyrics and instrumentation, sometimes I just wanna v i b e If you have a favorite band or artist, tell us about how you got into them I liked paramore before but when they posted the video of them performing last hope at reading? it was over. when Hayley sang the bridge it was over. now im a die hard fan and I never looked back Is there a song that came out this year that you like? maybe after reading all this shit you expected a list but somehow I can't. where do u even start. but the answer is definitely yes.  THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I COULD GO ON FOR DAYS