#scarred from when i volunteered and he was so shitty to me. i KNOW it was a bad intro to my script i didnt like it. was getting a feel for

[munamania]

i dont want to go to my stupid screenwriting class bc even though this prof Finally Actually gave me Some feedback. i dont like him. i dont think he likes any of us either he just likes talking about himself. anyway though she should be there today at least <3 and my other bestie and maybe i can get away with working on another assignment during class

[milo-is-rambling]

Thought about the concept of me either having children or not ever having children and both options make me want to cry

[familyvideostevie]

🐚 SEASHELL: “do the girls back home touch you like i do” with remus lupin!

ooooooooh how lovely. i went with the general vibe of this song, so here we have some short and sweet flirting with remus!!

--

You wouldn't normally do it. Honestly, all you wanted was a calm but fun night at your favorite local spot with some friends after a really shitty week.

But maybe this is just the perfect storm -- you're on the right side of a pint to make you feel a little braver than usual and you desperately want someone to be nice to you and you feel like there's something in the air tonight.

So when a guy -- tall, scarred, handsome, wearing a sweater that you would very much wear -- walks in and makes his way through the crowd to claim a seat at the bar, you volunteer to get the next round of drinks.

You seem to be able to work through the crowd with no issue, sliding next to him with a small smile. He shifts over so you have room and returns your grin with a quick flash of teeth before he takes a sip of his beer.

He says something but you pretend not to hear it clearly. "Want me to get his attention?" he says again, leaning closer to you. He smells like tea and cedar.

"Nah," you laugh. "He'll get over here eventually. He knows me," you add with an exaggerated wink. It's maybe the most lame move ever but it works -- the guy laughs.

"Regular, are you?"

"You could say that."

He turns a little so you're properly facing each other. "So you spotted me as the bloke looking lost, did you?" He runs a hand through his hair in what seems like a nervous habit. "I promise my idiot friends will be here soon. They no doubt got lost."

He rolls his eyes and looks at the door and then back at you.

"Well, it's crowded, so when they get here, you are more than welcome to share our table." You point to the corner where you and your friends have taken over. He looks a little surprised.

"I -- you don't even know me!" The concern in his voice is a bit funny, honestly, but his eyes betray him. He looks interested. In your offer -- maybe in you.

You stick out your hand in the small space between you and tell him your name.

"Clever girl," he says, and something pleasant runs up your spine. "I'm Remus." He shakes your hand firmly. His hands are warm. You tug him away from the bar and back towards your table. "What about your drink?"

"Your friends can buy me one when they get here," you tell him. He grins at you in something like wonder.

join the celebration!

[crossstitchbossbitch-blog]

We finished our first full playthrough with friends (four player characters, no NPC / origin character companions in the party).

Obvious bg3 spoilers because big brain = big bad.

It was loads of fun, I genuinely got myself a console just to play it myself. I like RPGs like DnD but this is on another level. It is such a rich game to explore and my adhd brain is well suited to chasing butterflies and unearthing side quests and little bits of lore away from the beaten track.

Granted, the intense final combat was a bit much for me, so once we finished the game I hopped back into my solo save where I could complete Astarion's quest and do the graveyard smash ;)

So lucky to have a similarly nerdy, ND partner who romanced Lae'zel and can't say SHIT about my elven vampire cutie fangirling. I blame it on reading Anne Rice when I was 12.

Additionally, I'm lucky to have a friend group where we can play RPGs digitally and in real life! We have a loose dnd / BESM rules game going, and we are starting another one using the rules of In Nomine. I tend to draw in my notebooks as I play RPGs, it helps me concentrate. At first folks thought it was rude, but I explained and all of my group are super cool about it now 😁

It is 2:30am. Way too hyped off video games and a busy night volunteering with kids before that. My flood defences activity with 24 unruly kids was a success as well, so still coming down off that high.

HOW AM I MEANT TO RELAX AND GO TO SLEEP WHEN I JUST KILLED AN ARCH VAMPIRE LORD AND THEN GOT TO BANG ON MY VAMPIRE LOVER'S GRAVE??

Also, fuck, I had a huge boost in respect for the writers on this game as more and more of Astarion's story is told. He was sent out to seduce people, "using his body". Anyone who has had their quota of shitty relationships / meaningless sex / abusive / unhealthy treatment in their lives knows that it leaves a bit of mental scarring and all of the unpacking it takes to get healthy again. Reading into it with Astarion's story is so refreshing. He doesn't stay broken, but he has to work through it first.

His need for autonomy is key in this, and he has actual boundaries and as a player you can respect them and then it improves the romance / approval/ relationship mechanics! Your actions being informed by your level of understanding of trauma and healing impact how he is able to recover.

For a part of the game you're not actually sleeping together and it makes sense.

I have actually seen quite a bit of online discussion around all the various options of intimacy in the game <5 way in sharess' caress> and apparently he has a line about "being a million miles away". That's straight up dissociation to cope with being in that situation. Kudos to the team writing lines for a character who is objectifiable, who ends up participating in elaborate sex, but then that character is still able to share an authentic and believable response about how they went into survival-dissociative mode... it just really struck a chord with me. You can consent and be willing to do stuff, but you might not be "fully there", for your own survival.

Personally, I met the best partner for me through a dating app, as my era of dating and hookups slowed down. I definitely had some prior shitty experiences where I wasn't safe or even in control. We waited a bit before actually doing the deed, and it was better (for one thing I wasn't drunk). As I have since got diagnosed with adhd and learn more about sensory differences I have realised how easily I get overwhelmed but still crave extremes of stimuli in certain ways. No smothering hugs or soft strokes that tickle skin, but a deep pressure or even a scratch is better for me. My partner listens and doesn't push those boundaries.

In the context of this game and this character, I have been realising that I coped with a lot of previous physical encounters by "being a million miles away" or not valuing my own autonomy. The writers clearly know about surviving this shit and actually created a fantastic character with tons of nuance and vitality (for an undead vampire spawn).

Tl;Dr good game, great writing.

[jayswritings13]

Total Drama: Volcano Aftermath

Plot: After the TDWT finale, Alejandro is still healing from some of his more severe injuries in the hospital when Chris sends you in to make sure that he doesn't die. Once inside, you learn more about Alejandro. This takes place before Chris and Chef seal Alejandro in a robot suit.

Note: Got inspired while rewatching TDWT. Besides, Alejandro has always been a favorite character or mine next to Heather.

Word Count: 1441

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

"You're still here?"

"Gotta make sure that you're not dead."

"Why?"

"Because Chris assigned me to wa-"

"No, I mean why do you care?"

"Listen, we had our ups and downs, mostly when you fucking backstabbed and voted me off, but you don't deserve to die."

"Lair." Alejandro hissed, narrowing his eyes over at your form sitting in the seat next to his hospital bed. Well, the best that he could, being all scarred and burned. "Everyone hated me on that plane. Everyone."

"You want the truth?"

"Indulge me."

"No one else wanted to do this." You said, "I was the only one who volunteered to do it."

"Wow. My only visitor." Alejandro remarked dryly. "Should I kick you out now? Or....?"

"Someone's spent too much time around Noah on the plane." You commented, "Not that I'm not surprised. You two seemed to ha-"

"My family's not out there, are they?"

"-ve clicked......what?" You asked.

"My parents. My brothers. Anyone!" Alejandro glared over at you, anger seeping and soaking his every syllable. "Are. Any. Of. Them. Out. There."

Silence.

"That's what I thought. I mean, why would they want to visit their loser son in the hospital. I mean, besides to tell me what a disgrace I am." Looking closely enough, you noted how sad and tired his eyes were.

"Alej-"

"Don't," Alejandro whispered. "Just don't, (Y/N)." He sighed, closing his eyes. "It's true. You were there! You saw what happened!" You winced at his comment, thinking back to the volcano, which wouldn't stop replaying in your head. You could only imagine how it was for Alejandro or Heather.

You didn't know a lot about Alejandro's home life, except a few comments here and there that he made off-hand while stuck in loser class together. You didn't even know Alejandro had another brother until the finale when he went after Heather for calling him 'José'.

"Maybe you don't deserve them," You said, "You didn't win." You said, ignoring the angry and hurt look that flashed across his features. "But you played the game smartly, with enough strategy to triumph Heather and Courtney combined! If your family can't see that, then they weren't watching closely enough." You said, "Besides, you sound better than your brother anyway."

"Pfff. I didn't think that you cared." Alejandro scoffed.

"I never- I don't-" You sighed, "Listen, we were on Total Drama and as shitty as the things you did were. It was a game, people do crazy things for money. Plus, an experience like that bonds anyone, despite what the rest of the cast wants you to think." You added. "Alejandro, I don't hate you. Do I think you were a fucking dick for rallying everyone to vote me off? Yeah." You said, "But the game's over. Life moves on."

Silence. You're pretty sure that he wanted you to leave, having enough of a 'pity party' for one day, so you stood up from the visitor's chair near his hospital bed.

"I've been fighting for so long for their approval. I don't think that I'm ever going to get it." Alejandro whispered before you could go any further towards the door. And it was in this moment, that you've seen him the most vulnerable than ever. Even more than when he was confessing to Heather on the volcano. "I.... You..." He paused. You could see how hard he was thinking about his next words, which was very much unlike the charismatic and smooth Alejandro from the game. "I think that I didn't want to face their disapproval. I wanted them to finally see me and be proud of me. That's why I joined the fucking show in the first place."

"Well, I'm sure that the money was a pretty big turn on too." You smiled, catching a small smile spending across Alejandro's features. "I'm sure that the oh-so-great Alejandro will show them one day."

"Oh-so-great, huh?" Just like that the old Alejandro from the plane was back, smirking, flirting, and charming. "Didn't know that you felt that way, Princesa?"

"Just calling it like I see it." You laughed, "Besides, I thought you knew that practically everyone had a small thing for you at one point or another."

"Oh, I knew. I just chose to ignore most to save their dignity. Well, what they had left of it."

"How chivalrous of you."

"I'm sorry for how we left things though."

"Oh really?"

"Hm." He nodded. "After you were voted out, I lost that last real person I kind of tolerated on the plane, well besides..... y'know." Heather. You knew what he meant.

"So you're saying that you're sorry for voting me out?"

"Well, I would not go that far." Alejandro said, "Yes, I was lonely and such. But it had to be done. You would have done the same."

"Fair." You grinned. "Fair."

"So, no one's out there.....? Not even..... y'know."

Heather.

You weren't sure what to tell him. Or even what he wanted to hear. Heather was waiting out there with you for a bit, sitting silently, staring down at the floor. But she left about an hour before you entered Alejandro's room. You've never seen Heather so worried and nervous and silent before. Her normal plotting scowl and cold shoulder were gone, replaced with perpetual silence. Technically, she was there. But also technically, she left.

"(Y/N). Tell me. I want to know."

"She was." You breathed out before you had another moment to rethink your decision. "She left before I came into your room."

You couldn't decipher Alejandro's expression, unsure if telling him the truth was the right decision or not. Which made sense, Heather was a touchy subject with him before the finale, must be even more so now.

"That's pretty typical of her." He snorted, "She was always running away. Pushing."

"I mean, you did give her a good reason not to trust you....."

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?!"

"No one's." You said, "I'm just here."

"Yeah, well, I think that maybe it is time for you to go." Alejandro blankly stated. Any and all hint of the joking, charming, and apologetic Alejandro was gone. Instead, you stared back at this cold, distant, and disconnected Alejandro.

"Alejan-"

"Get out."

"Fine." You stood up, keeping your eyes on Alejandro's form. You walked towards the door, pausing before reaching for the handle. "But, I'll be back." You said, refusing to turn around and see his expression. "Like I said before, an experience like Total Drama bonds people for life whether we like it or not." You said. "I don't hate you, Alejandro. I should. I fucking should, but I don't." You added, risking a glance back towards the burnt contestant and shuttered at the intense glare he was sending you.

"Out."

Nodding, you opened the door, slipping out of his room and back into the familiar waiting room, where Chris and Chef were sitting, filling out some paper work. You made your way over to the host, trying to sneak glances at the forms they were furiously filling out.

"What's all this?"

"Oh! You're back!" Chris said, shoving aside the papers to Chef, who grunted in response to the host's actions. "So, how's Al?"

"Alejandro is alright."

"Still kicking?"

"Kind of hard to kick with third degree burns and broken bones, but, yeah, he's breathing." You couldn't hide the disgust as Chris sighed happily.

"Awesome."

"So what time should I be back for the next 'Alejandro shift'?"

"Oh, never." Chris chuckled, "Chef and I got it covered."

Something about that statement didn't settle well with you. Maybe it was all of those days and nights being tortured by these two grown men, but alarms were ringing in your head, gluing you to the floor.

"No, really," you said, "I don't mind."

"And, like I said, Chef and I got it covered."

"I don't thi-"

"Listen (Y/N), we appreciate your help and all with this, but I think that you're needed elsewhere." Chris said, gesturing to Heather, who stood down that hall, the same worried and blank look over her features. "Better go run along."

"Wait." You said, as Chef got up from his seat, nudging/dragging you towards the hallway. "Fine. I'm going, I'm going."

You scowled, but ultimately left the waiting room, walking towards the hallway, where Heather was. With every step, the your gut twisted and sank further and further, feeling as though you had made a horrible mistake. Both with Alejandro and with leaving him in the 'care' of Chris and Chef.

Little did you know that that would be the last time you Alejandro in a while.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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

+ Childhood

[cloud-laufeyson]

Holiday Cheer

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After a night out, looking at the holiday lights, Daryl and Y/n finally confess their feelings. Daryl got attention, something he thought would never happen  

Readers pronouns: She/her

Setting: Pre-apocalypse

Word Count: 3K (I got carried away)

Warnings: Profanity, mention of abuse

A/N: I just came back from looking at Christmas lights. I don’t celebrate Christmas but I feel like Daryl would if he could. This is based on Daryl being an artist and photographer headcanon! Also just please pretend phones in the 90’s were like flip phones. Part 2 of Snap Out Of It will come out soon:)

🍄Masterlist🍄  👾Requests👾

Daryl never really got anything from anyone. No holiday gifts, no birthday gifts, no surprises, nothing. The only thing he has that he considers a gift is Y/n. She was always there for him, even when he showed her the bruises and scars he would receive after a beating. She wasn’t scared of him when she first moved into town years ago. She moved into town when they were both in grade 5. People warned her about the Dixon family and to not interact with the Dixon in her grade, but she didn’t listen. She thought that the shy Dixon was cute and not like the way people described him at all. And he wasn’t.

Y/n never got anything either. She was an only child. Her parents ignored her in every way. She tried to earn their love, but never won. Tried to get their attention even by getting her belly pierced, that never worked either (she later regretted that decision). She never received any gifts from her family. When she moved into the new town she became best friends with the younger and shy Dixon. She was amazing at calming Daryl down and even helping him with school when he needed it or wanted it. The whole school never paid attention to them, finding out Y/n befriended a Dixon immediately made her an outcast. She never cared about it because she thought Daryl was awesome.

They were now in their senior year of high school. Years later they were still friends, or so they considered themselves as that. They were both blind to the fact they had obvious feelings towards each other that kept growing throughout the years.

It was that time of year again. Where people sing Christmas songs, have a big family reunion and eat a big dinner, and open many presents under the tree. The one thing that was the most beautiful about this time of year, were the lights. The houses and streets were all decorated with colourful Xmas lights. That’s what Y/n loved most about this time of year.

“This stupid ass skirt...dammit,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed the hem and pulled it down. “Of course they had to make me wear a damn skirt to volunteer in the fucking winter. My damn legs are freez-” you were cut off by your phone ringing. You grabbed your phone out of your cardigan pocket and looked at the caller ID. You smiled as you saw it was Daryl, probably calling you back from all the missed messages and calls you sent. You answered the phone, “Well hello there.” You giggled as you heard him huff at how you answered the phone. “Hi Y/n. What’s up? Is somethin’ wrong?” You smiled at yourself as you made your way into the store. “Nope. Nothings wrong. I just wanted to pitch an idea to you and maybe even complain to you.” You lowered your voice since you were now in a public building. You skipped the carts and just grabbed a basket. He laughed a little. “Oh yeah? Shoot the pitch then you can complain. I just came back from work.” “Oh forgot you were working! I’m so sorry. I won’t complain since you may want to relax. But here’s the idea. Okay, so...since it’s Christmas time and we both have a shitty family, how would you feel if you and I hang out tonight? We can sneak in to walk through the lights and I know this cool ass spot we can go after that oversees all the colourful lights! Plus we can jam out to anything and everything! Soooooo...you in, tough guy?”

You waited for a response as you walked to a certain aisle. “Oh...um yeah. That- that sounds cool. What time ya wanna meet?” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You felt relief wash over you. “Well considering we live a block away and sneak out a few nights to do shit, I’d sayyyyyy...the same time we always do buckaroo.” Another smile appeared on your face. You felt giddy, but you were in public so you had to calm yourself. “Ya seem extra happy today, sunshine. I’ll see you at 6 then.” You could feel the heat on your cheeks while he said the nickname that always made you nervous. You could picture the little smirk he was wearing. “Alrighty then. Bye bye!” “Bye.” You hung up the phone, placed it back in your pocket, and squealed silently. “Alright Y/n...now to get the surprise in action.”

You focused back on the main point of coming to this store. You needed to find a sketchbook, pencils, charcoal, and a camera. The things Daryl talked about. He got a hand-me-down camera from an old guy at his work, but he never had a real sketchbook and good supplies. You thought you could buy him these things and maybe make this year happy for him. His dad had been more rough on him mostly because he knows Daryl is gonna be gone as soon as he can. After Merle left, he had been taking more beatings. You wanted to punch his dad so hard, but Daryl stopped you when you would come close. That’s how Daryl ended up sleeping at your place most nights. Whether it’d be in your room on the spare mattress, the couch, or your parents room since they bailed on you a couple years ago in grade 10. They still paid the bills, but didn’t give two shits if you lived or not. But you liked it, you made it work. So to make up for everything Daryl has been through, you decided to make his one wish—that you can make happen—true.

“Okay...okay.” You pulled out a piece of paper the art teacher Daryl had written. You asked the teacher if he could tell you the supplies that were good and almost professional, but also affordable. You saved up your money from the past few months. You knew everything would cost a lot, but if it would make Daryl happy it would be worth it. “AH! Fucking finally!” You celebrated as you found the sketchbook, the charcoal, and many different styles of pencils. You added them to the basket and walked over to the cameras.

“Is there anything I can help you with ma’am?” You jumped, startled by the old lady that appeared out of nowhere. “Oh. Hi! I’m so sorry, you just startled me a little.” You laughed nervously, but calmed down as the lady laughed too. “But yes I’m looking for a camera...like a photography camera…”

“$580?...$580?!” You said to yourself as you made it into your house. That was over half the money you saved. “Daryl better love the shit out of me AND use these things.” You said to yourself as you started wrapping the surprises up. You jammed out to your favourite artist on your record player. You really were hoping he would love them. These were his dream gifts anyway. “Oh shit! I need to put those cookies in the oven!!” You made cookies the night before and the recipe you use, tells you to put it in the fridge overnight.

As you came back from putting the gifts in your truck, the oven went off and your phone rang. You didn’t bother looking at the ID. It was 5:30 already. You needed to get the cookies out, while also answering the phone. “Hello?” You asked, your voice shaking a little. “Hey...Y/n is this a wrong time? You sound worried.” Of course he knew something was up. He could read you like a book...or well, in his case a motorcycle. “No! No, I’m fine! I’m just trying to change out of that damn skirt from earlier.” That wasn’t a complete lie. You were taking your skirt off to change with one hand while the other was working on placing the cookies on a platter. Daryl chuckled. “Right...that skirt you texted me abou’?” You chuckled a little. “Yessir. That’s the one. What’s up? Why’d you call? Not that I don’t mind though!” You made a mental note to slap yourself later for that. ‘Not that I don’t mind’? Way too eager. You hurriedly put some jeans on and went to change your top. “Can I come over to your place now? I don’t want to be home anymore.” He mumbled that last part. You sighed and frowned. “Yeah, of course. Come over.” He hung up when you said those last words and there was a knock. You hurried and put your top on and ran to the door. ‘Was he waiting out there?’ You thought to aloud. “You baking somethin’ in here? Smells good.” You giggled and let him in. “Baked cookies for tonight. Gotta have something when looking at the town!”

“Thanks for the pizza D. You didn’t have to.” You smiled at him. “An’ you didn’t have ta bake cookies for later, but you did.” You rolled your eyes and giggled a bit. It was now 7:00. You two were now sneaking into where all the lights are. You found an opening where no one could spot you and could easily slip in. “Okay when I say go, we both go and run to the road. Got it?” You asked, looking at Daryl. “Of course I do, you know this ain’t my first time.” He smirked at you and you got lost in his eyes. You shook your head to focus back on the road. “Yeah yeah yeah. Alright annndddd...go!” You two sped walk onto the road where the lights were. You started to laugh when he tripped and bumped into your side. You tried to steady him and he just started laughing with you. You walked side by side looking at the beautiful lights.

As you two continued walking, you slowed down when the finishing lights were showing. Daryl stopped focusing on the lights and started focusing on you. He saw the way you looked at the lights. Your eyes sparkled like the lights.

(picture of the lights I went to see)

“Ya know...ya look uh, ya look beautiful tonight. Ya seem happy.” Daryl stumbled over his words, nervous because he downright complimented you to your face. He always thought you were pretty, but was too nervous to ever say anything. Something in him encouraged him to say something. He saw the way you looked at him then looked down at the compliment. He saw you fidgeting with your fingers and let out a shaky breath. He was about to apologize before you spoke up. “Thanks. And um you look, you look really handsome tonight.” It wasn’t a lie. He was wearing jeans and had a cute tan long sleeve shirt. You guessed he stole it from a guy at work but you didn’t mind. It showed off his muscles. You saw the blush that was on Daryl’s cheeks. You smiled knowing you made THE Daryl Dixon blush. Since he was still blushing over the compliment, you took the opportunity and intertwined your hands together. You pulled him towards the bushes to leave this place. You needed to bring him on top of that hill to give him his stuff and look at the lights shutting off. “Y/n what are you doing?” He squeezed your hand as you started to jog. “Daryl, come on! We gotta get out of here to make it to our last spot.” You pulled him close as you two ran together. You let go of his hand and started running faster. You hear Daryl yelling your name, but you never slowed down. People you knew looked at the two of you, rolling their eyes. You didn’t mind though, neither did Daryl. As you were about to make it first to the truck, you didn’t hear Daryl catch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him. He held you close and you could do nothing but laugh and scream “let go” over and over. He finally let you go and you slapped his chest. “Get in the damn car you dingus.”

You put your truck in park and got out, motioning Daryl to do the same. You opened the trunk and hopped to sit down. You had blankets to keep you warm and pillows for laying down to look at the stars. Daryl looked at the view and then back to you. “How’d ya find this spot?” You shrugged and smirked at him. “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.” Daryl huffed at your answer. You patted the spot next you and Daryl sat down. You two just stared at the light for a while. The time was 8:30 and the lights shut off at 9:00. It was time to give him his surprise.

“Daryl?” You looked at him and he hummed in response. He broke his gaze from the town to you. “I got a surprise for you.” You said bluntly jumping off the trunk bed, and getting the surprises from the back seats. You grabbed the bag full of wrapped presents. Daryl had a confused look on his face. You jumped back up on the trunk bed and placed the bag on his lap. He just looked at you, still confused. “What is all this?” You gave him a warm smile, which melted his heart. “I got you presents. To make up for all the shitty days and to make sure you know I appreciate you a lot.” He looked down at the bag and shook his head. “Y/n-” before he could continue you stopped him. “Please just open the damn things! I’ve been waiting forever for this. Go on!” You started bouncing up and down and he chuckled.

He grabbed the smallest present first, it was a combination of two things. He opened it and it was all the different kinds of pencils and charcoal. He looked at you and you just motioned for him to continue. He grabbed another one and tore it open. When his eyes landed on the sketchbook he started to tear up a bit, but pushed them back.  “You...you got this for me?” He looked at you with a straight face and you smiled at him. You nodded eagerly. “Yes I did. Now if I remember correctly, you still have one more thing in there!” Daryl didn’t budge. “Y/n...this was...these things are a lot of money.” “Yeah? I know. Don’t mention it alright. Just please open the last one.” He hesitated but went for the last one.

A part of Daryl hated this, the attention he was getting. But he also loved it, because he now realized you were listening to him all this time. He took hold of the last one, it was heavier than the other ones. He looked at you and you were biting your nails. Daryl slowly unwrapped it and as soon as he was done unwrapping, he just stared at the present. It was the camera he always wanted. He looked at you, but couldn’t say anything. This time he couldn’t hold it back anymore and started to tear up. You just looked at him and frowned. “Oh...Daryl, if it isn’t the right one I can return it. Or if you don’t like it I ca-” you didn’t even get to finish. You were pulled into a hug. You were shocked at what was happening. Daryl buried his head in the crook of your neck and sobbed. His arms were wrapped around on your lower back. Before he could pull away, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. You started to run your fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down. “Daryl, it’s okay. Hey, come on.”

After a moment he pulled away, his eyes were a bit red from crying. “Y/n this is too much. How did ya do this? I can’t take these.” You shook your head. “No. Daryl you WILL take these. These are your dream things and you need them! If you start doing these things, you can go to college with me! Daryl, you mean a lot to me. I care about you and listen to you.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he sighed. “I didn’t get ya anythin’.” You let out a laugh. “I don’t care. I made you cry tears of joy, that’s all that matters.” Daryl was staring at you now. You smiled at him.

‘This is the time.’ Daryl thought. He looked at your eyes then your lips. He laid a hand on your cheek, opposite of your hand that was on his shoulder. He leaned in and so did you. You both hesitated, but Daryl pulled you closer with his one hand on your cheek and kissed you passionately. It was short, but it felt like it lasted forever. ‘She tastes like cookies.’ Daryl thought. You both pulled away breathing, desperately, for air. You opened your eyes and saw Daryl looking at you. “I guess that was my gift ta ya.” You couldn’t help but laugh. You slapped his shoulder and pulled away further. “You just had to say that?” He joined you in your laughter.

After you two calmed down, Daryl took a hold of your hands. “Y/n...I love ya. Have since 8th grade.” You squeezed his hands. “I- I love you too. But for me it was since 7th grade. So I guess I won.” He rolled his eyes. “Always so damn competitive.” And with that, he brought you in for a short, sweet kiss. After you pulled away, Daryl spoke, “So...wanna complain about that “damned” skirt?” You smirked and went on a rant.

The night ended with you and Daryl laying in your bed. Daryl didn’t want to go home, so you let him stay at yours—like you always did. You two were cuddled together, sleep was taking over you. But before you could actually slip away for the night, you heard Daryl speak. “I love ya, sunshine.” You looked up at him and kissed his chin. “I love you, dingus.”

[murderslugs]

Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

[bomberqueen17]

kids

Yesterday my mother had an in-person board meeting for the nonprofit she volunteers for. It was exactly overlapping with dinnertime.

I volunteered to take all four grandkids, and supervise them at the farm for the afternoon, and then bring them back to Mom’s house in the late afternoon, and then Middle-Little Sister could pick up takeout dinner from the city (where she lives) and bring it up to us, and we’d all have dinner together, and then she’d stay there until Mom came home, and I would leave with Farmkid to get her home to bed at her normal time.

Mom tried to tell me she didn’t need me to do anything until evening, but I managed to convince her to go home, decompress alone in her house, take a few minutes, and maybe even lie down for a bit. So she did that.

It worked out fine; the children made insane amounts of noise, but were very agreeable about things like “please don’t slam that door backwards into the painting on the wall and break it” because I didn’t say “quit tear-assin’ around the house” because honestly if they have that much energy they should work through that.

All of them, even the youngest, are by now to the point where you can have measured discussions on stuff, and maybe they’ll absorb it and maybe they won’t, but I feel like now is my time to really shine as the Weird Aunt. As we were driving, one kid moved seats, and thus had his seatbelt off, and I told him that if the cops saw him without a seatbelt they would immediately arrest me and I would die from the mortification and become a ghost expressly to haunt that child. (He’s eleven, this isn’t going to scar him.) I promised that I’d follow him to college and hide behind the headboard of his bed and whenever he managed to find a special friend he wanted to bring back to his room to get to know better I would take that moment to manifest and terrify them, so he would never ever get to know anybody as well as he wanted to. (I’m fairly certain he’s old enough to know what I meant, but if he isn’t, well then, he’ll figure it out later and this will be funnier. His older brother sure got my meaning.)

We then had another debate, sparked by a confusing advertising slogan on a sign we passed, about whether houses could get married, and if that was a possible way to make new houses, and I posed to them the dilemma of whether a house would lay eggs or give live birth, and if so to either, how,  and we posited that houses give birth via the garage, but that gets confusing in the case of houses with detached garages.

Anyway, these kids are leaving soon to go back to Maryland, but I’ll see them again in August, so in the meantime I gotta think about more weird shit I can do to really cement myself into position as The Weird Aunt. I’m already shitty at buying people birthday presents, so I gotta make up for it somehow by giving them the gift of effortless eccentricity.

Today Farmkid is absolutely obsessed with the thought of getting Minecraft on her tablet, like her cousins have, and I pointed out to her that hours of screen time in a day are bad for you; maybe in the summer it’s okay but when there’s school and homework and things, you wind up not having any time to think with your own mind. So she came up with a whole idea of having alternating Minecraft and TV time, and her mother pointed out that since money for chores hasn’t motivated her at all, maybe additional minutes of screentime as payment for chores *would*, so that’s a thought.

She was under my nominal supervision at the time, and had begun following her parents around to chatter excitedly about this idea, and I decided to distract her by giving her a metal pail and I got a drywall bucket and we went down to the creek and picked up cool rocks to throw in the mud puddles outside the barn door, to try and slow down how much dang mud gets tracked in. It worked a lot better than I thought it would, and we (mostly I) hauled close to 150 pounds of gravel and rocks to dump into that mud puddle. Not bad; the main purpose was to let Farmkid get some of her chatters out, and she spent the whole time lecturing me on dragon-heart rocks and how they make the earth ten times stronger. We placed them very carefully in the permanent mud puddle next to the barn’s heavily-used side door, and she pronounced this the cure to the mud problem.

Well, it won’t hurt. Anything’s better than that perma-puddle.

Yeah I don’t have a punchline. I’m super far behind on writing but that’s fine, those deadlines don’t mean anything anyway. I have so much material it’s just not put together. We’ll see what happens.

(Yes, I’m sitting here nominally supervising Farmkid; she’s now “setting things up” in the side yard-- a kindly friend came to haul all the kids’ toys out of the basement and clean them off after the flood, and now they’re all out there bright and shiny and dry, and mostly too  young for Farmkid, but of course she’s happy to play with them since they’re novel. It’s sort of cute to see several far-too-large children sitting at a toddler picnic table.

I can’t see her but I can hear the satisfied little clicky noises she’s making with her tongue as she plays. It’s not hard to keep tabs on that kid.)

[juletheghoul]

Mysticus Chapter 2

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Nothing yet - maybe language (Smut later on)

Masterlist Chapter 3

Later that night you realize that after your mystery patron left, you made your way back to the shitty motel you were staying at seemingly in a daze. Almost as if you were on autopilot.

Laying in bed having showered and locked up everything tightly, you stared at your dog curiously. She didn’t seem much different than she usually did.

“What the hell was that about huh? Did you turn into a teddy bear all of a sudden?” you often spoke to her as if she’d respond. You supposed that in some ways she usually did, or at least you felt as though she did. She looked at you without lifting her head, the barest hint of acknowledgment.

“Excuse me ma’am, I’m speaking to you.” You stared at her – she looked away and let out a heavy sigh. Wow. Rude. Maybe he smelled like someone familiar? Either way its lucky she didn’t bite or growl at him, relieved that you didn’t have to deal with that fall out.

You stared at the little mark in your palm with the little sliver of light that cut through the darkness of the sad little room you both had been staying in for the past week and thought about it’s twin on the man at the carnival. His voice in the back of your mind as you pictured his face. The smile that made your heart beat faster, those deep brown eyes that crinkled giving you that smile. The feel of his lips on the back of your hand, you could almost feel it as you drifted off to sleep.

The same sliver of light woke you the next morning, and not in the best of moods. You had a vague sense of nightmares but nothing concrete, a couple of minutes later you couldn’t even remember. The feeling however didn’t go away, and it followed you like a cloud throughout the day. After taking the dog out to handle her business and grabbing yourself some breakfast you sat in the bed and upturned your earnings to see what you were working with.

“Okay, so we have $115 from the carnival along with the little bit we still have for emergencies. Which means we’re at a grand total of $637.53. That’s not too bad huh?” the dog gave a little huff.

“One more day at the carnival wouldn’t hurt – lets see if we can make it an even $700. Don’t look at me like that, it’s got nothing to do with that guy he probably forgot what he said. I doubt we’ll ever see him again.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince. The dog was ever silent and you gave her a little frown but put your money away anyway.

You decided that no matter what happened at the carnival, this was your last night in this town. It felt as though you’d stayed there too long already. To harden your resolve, you checked out of the motel early and packed up everything you owned - double and triple checking that you didn’t miss anything - into the back of your jeep. You used the rest of the day to restock everything you needed for your life on the road – snacks, extra gas for the long stretches of road between gas stations, dog food & snacks for your girl, as well as basic toiletries that had been used up or were running dangerously low. Everything went into the back of the jeep where you had your life neatly organized. Feeling better about your provisions, you made your way over to the carnival.

It was a slow night. Not as many customers as you would have hoped for and the cloud over your head felt as though it was getting heavier, full to bursting with rain and hail, thunder and lightning. The feeling that seemed like a vague suggestion of a bad dream, now sat heavy and low in the pit of your stomach like a brick. You tried to shake it off but the slightest movement had you whipping your head around, any normal carnival noise had you jumping and it wasn’t just you. The dog’s ears kept prickling like she too was on the lookout. Even the smells of carnival, which normally were the only thing you liked about it – were making you queasy. Donuts and funnel cakes, cotton candy and roasted nuts, things you usually liked now were cloying and were threatening to make you gag.

You felt him before you actually saw him and when your eyes locked and he gave you that secret smile, it felt as though the wind got knocked out of you.

He sat down opposite you and you stared at each other for a few minutes in silence. You mapped out the lines of his face unabashedly while he did the same. You noticed the scar on his cheek that you’d somehow missed the night before and again that wild urge to reach out and touch him struck you again.

“Good evening Birdie, I cannot put into words the euphoria I feel in seeing you again.”

“Do you always speak like that?” you blurted out, as your eyes widened and the colour rose high in your cheeks.

“Do you find it bothersome?” he asked seemingly unphased, you’re guessing you probably aren’t the first person to ask him.

“No.” You certainly didn’t speak in such flowery prose but then again, you travelled alone with a dog so your conversations were very one-sided.

“I found myself contemplating how a petal as exquisite as yourself found herself providing your services in this barren no-name town. I suspect you’re not a local?”

“Nope, just passing through.” You ignored the compliment.

“As I suspected. As am I petal. I don’t suppose you’d be agreeable to coming to a little arrangement? I’m looking for transport out of this place and as romantic as the thought of purchasing a bus ticket and driving off into the sunset with strangers on all sides is, I’d rather travel with someone as lovely as yourself to look at.” You gawked at him. “I realize that we do not know each other but I assure you petal I am as harmless as a newborn kitten.” Yeah. Right. You weren’t afraid of this man in any way, you couldn’t explain why but there was something in the pit of your stomach that told you he was safe. Were you actually considering this??

“You want me to give you a ride? You don’t even know where I’m going, and how do you know I’m harmless?” You crossed your arms over your chest to hide the frantic beating of your heart, as if he could somehow see it.

“Call it intuition. What do you say? Are you agreeable?” He reached out his hand to shake on your agreement. You stared at his hand momentarily when a thought struck you.

“What do you say girl, should we pick up a stray?” You looked over at your dog. She stood up and walked over to him – he smiled and pet her behind the ear and she licked his hand again. That settled it.

“Agreed.” You both shook on it.

It was only as you both walked over to your jeep that you realized you’d never asked him his name.

At first it was a little strange having someone other than the dog in the Jeep, but he volunteered to drive and you couldn’t help but admit that it was nice. It was nice to be in the passengers seat with the window open, sun shining on your face, wind blowing through your hair and the steady hum of his voice lulling you into a state of relaxation you haven’t felt since god knows when. That was another thing that was strange. Conversation. You spoke to the dog often but she didn’t respond. Not verbally anyway. You both made your way through each town, deciding off the cuff whether or not you wanted to stay or keep going. It was also very nice having him pitching in with gas money. The first time you pulled into a gas station he was out of the car before you could fully comprehend what he was doing, filling up your tank and walking in to pay without so much as a word. As he got in and dropped a bottle of water in your lap he gave you one of those smiles that made your heart skip a beat, and noticing the look of confusion on your face he laughed lightly.

“I figure if you’re courteous enough to allow me to accompany you in your cross-country travel, the very least I can do is contribute with the cost of fuel. Now I have purchased some water for you because you have to stay hydrated, especially in this heat and I’m guessing the little lady riding in the back might also be a little thirsty. What do you say girl, do you need to go about your business?” the dog perked her ears up as he grabbed her leash to lead her outside.

You were left speechless, but glad you didn’t have to have the awkward conversation when you eventually did run out of gas money. That was another thing that seriously weirded you out. He spoke to your dog as if he’d known her forever – no fear – no hesitation and while for other dogs that was usually fine, you knew for a fact that your dog was most decidedly not open to new people. Except him it seemed. You watched as he led her near the trees while she relieved herself and trotted back happily for a drink of water. Any part of you which held a little bit of regret at readily accepting him joining you was gone in that moment.

--------

Tag List: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @thirstworldproblemss @cannedsoupsucks @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar

<3

[aremiies]

❥ stop being so careless.

pairings: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: slight swearing, a very short drabble, some very bad writing and some tooth rottening fluff for fluff-vember !

not my gif !

—

now, you see, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. he wasn’t supposed to end up liking her, that wasn’t in his plans at all. it happened during the usj incident . bakugou and kirishima began to attack kurogiri, thinking they’d be able to land a hit on the outlandish looking creature; alas, they failed, but before the students could even think about what else they could do, they were sent flying throughout the rest of the building; their screams and yells filling the atmosphere around them.

after landing on her back, quite hard might i add, y/n winced in pain as she looked around to see where she was, “this looks like the ruins zone...” she said in a hushed tone as she brought herself to stand.

“that’s because it is the ruins zone, dumbass.” another voice concurred.

y/n turned around and was met with two very familiar faces and distinct colored hair, thank the spirits. “kirishima, bakugou, you guys are here! wow, this makes things a lot better... okay, our main goal is to find a way to get back with the rest of the class.”

“well, we have bigger things to worry about right now, y/n...” kiri spoke up. after getting a good look around, the girl finally noticed the abundance of villains standing around the three of them, ready to attack.

“okay, it seems you’re right about that part... let’s just get this over with then.” y/n suggested as she got into a fighting stance. and with that, the three future heroes attacked the villains with out wasting another moment. throughout the entire battle, bakugou couldn’t help but to glance over to y/n whenever he got the chance. she was a very skilled fighter, but of course just like anyone else she would take a few hits here and there as well. seeing y/n get even the tiniest of bruises made bakugou feel some type of way. it wasn’t good, he didn’t like it. in fact, he hated seeing them on her; even when they would spar during classes, he hated there being even the slightest chance that he could accidentally hurt her. eventaully, the three teens had defeated the villains and had a chance to relax.

“great job, you guys,” y/n exclaimed, “you were so good !”

“says you, y/n! even when they landed a hit on you, you acted as if it was nothing!” kirishima praised.

bakugou’s head shot up at the mention of y/n getting hurt, “they landed a hit on you?! where?!” bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed her arm, beginning to search for wounds.

y/n began laughing trying to disguise her wince of pain as she pulled her arm away from the short tempered boy, “bakugou i’m fine! it was barely a hit, more like a slap. i barely felt it, stop worrying. we should probably get going though, we need to get back to the others.” she exited the building the three were in with kiri and bakugou staggering behind. kirishima looked at bakugou with a knowing face, bakugou making the red-haired boy swear to secrecy.

“okay, okay! i won’t say anything... to her at least, but, man mina would love to hear about this one.”

“shitty hair i swear to—“

two days later the class was back to normal— well, most of them were. mr.aizawa was still in the hospital and y/n was trying her best to act as if she was okay, though in reality she desperately needed something to numb the pain in her arms. she might’ve said the hits were light, but, boy was that a lie. everytime she moved her scars would rub against her shirt material which didn’t help the pain one bit. everyone was still somewhat recovering from the shock they experience during the usj incident, and y/n didn’t want her friends worrying about her. besides, she was fine, the scars would heal soon... right?

the students of 1-a sat at their desk talking to one another about who knows what. y/n and mina were laughing about a joke the girl had made about mineta and mina, unknowing about y/n’s wounded arms, slapped a hand on her shoulder in her own fit of laughter.

“ow!” y/n yelled out (much, much louder than intended i might add).

mina covered a hand over her mouth, “y/n, i’m sorry! i didn’t know i hit you that hard!”

“no, no it’s okay. it’s not your fault.” y/n sighed.

kirishima walked over to the two, kaminari and bakugou following suit, “are you guys okay?”

“yeah, i think i just hit y/n’s arm too hard. i think it might still be sore from the other day.” mina explained.

“do you need to be taken to recovery girl?” kaminari asked?

“i’ll take you.” bakugou volunteered without a second thought.

“no! guys, i’m alright. i’m just a bit sore is all.” y/n tried to lie.

“okay, recovery girl can heal that. come on, dumbass.” bakugou gently grabbed her hand and led her out the classroom before the girl could protest any further.

“bakugou, i promise you, i’m fine.”

“no you’re not. just shut up and let me take care of you— i mean it. let me take care of it.” he urged.

y/n smiled slightly at his words and his slightly pink tinted cheeks, “you want to take care of me?” she teased.

“shut up dumbass, just let me take you to recovery girl so she can make you feel better.” bakugou rolled his eyes.

the two eventaully made it to recovery girl’s office and explained to the precious old lady what was wrong.

“okay, dear,” recovery girl started, “take off your blazer for me so i can examine your arm.”

“oh uh, cant you do it with the blazer on...?” y/n chuckled nervously.

“no ma’am, i have to actually touch the skin the wound is on. are you uncomfortable with that?” recovery girl asked.

“no, no! it’s fine... i guess.” y/n slowly took her school blazer off, wincing with every movement her arms made. when she eventaully got it off,her arm was then exposed. littered in small cuts and bruises— as we mentioned earlier, the one thing bakugou couldn’t stand when it came to y/n.

“wh-! y/n, why didn’t you say anything’s about this!” he shouted.

“now, now, you two can talk about this later. let me do this before she gets all worked up. relax for me, would you?” recovery girl instructed the girl. she kissed y/n’s wounds and gave her a lollipop before she exited her office. y/n buttoned up her blazer as she and bakugou walked back towards the class room.

“you should’ve said something about your bruises, dummy.” bakugou mumbled.

“i know, and i’m sorry. i just didn’t want people to worry, because i’m sure they’re still all shocked about what happened, yknow? i know it’s stupid, but-“

“it’s not stupid. but, you really need to worry about yourself more. i don’t want to keep having to take you to recovery girl.” he shoved his hands in his pants pockets.

“why do you care so much? i hope this doesn’t sound rude, but i didn’t expect you to care about me as much as you do.” you explained carefully.

bakugou sighed and stopped walking. y/n looked at him with confusion apparent in her expression.

“bakugou?”

“you’re so careless, you know that? you’re my friend okay. of course i’m going to care about you. i don’t like seeing you hurt, i like seeing you with a smile on your face. i like seeing you laugh i... i— i like you.”

“what?”

“i said i like you, dumbass!” bakugou admitted, “i like you a lot and i-i don’t like to see you with bruises. you’re too worried about other people when you should be worried about yourself... even if that’s one of the reasons i like you... you’re really pretty and caring and your quirk is really strong...”

y/n was at a loss for words. bakugou of all people liked her? i mean, she had her suspicions, but she didn’t expect him to ACTUALLY like her. nonetheless, y/n smiled and walked towards the boy, taking his hand into hers, “i like you too, bakugou... why didn’t you say anything earlier? nevermind that, let’s go back to class, dummy.”

sorry if the end is a little awkward!! i couldn’t figure out how to end it !! thank you for reading !! <3

[aslitheryprinx]

These are from song titles, but I think these are poggers (I hope, at least)

* And there was life inside "it"

* Can it really be called "Cinderella" ?

* Love inside an empty box

* World is full of wonders (Or "Full of wonders!!!!")

* Near

* Angel's clover

Don't worry anon, they are most definitely poggers! (Both of my current ao3 published works have names based on song lyrics, so that really fits my vibe haha.)

There are so many good prompts here! I couldn't help but write like.... A lot lmao.

CW: dehumanization, themes of child abuse, themes of death. Be safe!

____

And there was life inside "it"

They called it RNB-00. It was the first in a generation of experimental life production using DNA from one of the most volatile creatures in the worlds: endermen. There were no endermen hybrids. The children could not survive, and the birth was volatile, tearing the parents and anyone near them apart with the violent magic.

They would perform the experiment anyways.

An unfinished human embryo, carefully extracted from someone who would be written in the paperwork as a volunteer. An enderpearl, freshly taken from a creature they didn't consider "human" enough to need even dubious content. DNA, taken directly from the brain of the enderman.

They spliced together the three ingredients, cheering when the chimera of enderman and embryo inside its tubes showed signs of life.

But some things are not meant to be done.

Nature is not meant to be tampered with.

The experiment turned south quickly. The specimen convulsed in its tube, growing at a rapid rate. Vibrant purple magic lashed out, dancing through the lab with a vengeance. There were the cries of a newborn mixed with the shrieks of an enderman- then, an explosion.

RNB-00 fell to the ground, the magic pulsing from it too bright to be looked at by the naked eye. A second explosion rocked the lab, this time all-encompassing and final. The building turned to ash and dust and settled around a new crater.

There would never be a RNB-01.

A shape rose from the center of the crater. It was a child from one angle, maybe two or three, with pure white hair, scarred cheeks, and a red eye.

From the other angle, it was a monster. Something not quite enderman or human. Jet black hair, and velvety black fur covered the left half of it. It's eye glowed an unnatural green, not the color of humans or endermen.

It toddled slowly away from the epicenter of the explosion, no memory of what had happened. As it walked, it noticed a mark, a brand, on it's right arm: RNB-00. The child stared, and blinked at the word.

And he named himself Ranboo.

Can it really be called "Cinderella"?

When Tubbo was young, he saw Cinderella, once. Even with how young he was, the story resonated with him. He wished all his stepfather did was give him chores, but he knew exactly how it felt to be unloved, unwanted, forced to stay on the sidelines. He just hoped his fairy godmother would come soon.

When he was a little older, he looked back on the story of Cinderella with nothing but bitterness. He was old enough now that he knew fairy tales didn't happen. There was no "fairy godmother" coming to save him; there never had been, there never would be. All he had was himself and his shitty situation. He wanted to forget the story that had given him such a bittersweet lie, but it was burned into his memory.

As he reached his teens, the anger turned into weariness. It wasn't Cinderella's fault his stepfather was a piece of shit. It wasn't the character's fault that she had help to break free while he didn't. And how miserable he was wasn't Tubbo's fault either, no matter how much his stepfather screamed it.

When he was 16, feeling ancient yet younger than he had ever been, he stopped comparing himself to Cinderella. Cinderella hadn't stood over her stepparent's body with a bat. Cinderella hadn't called the police on herself, showing them what she'd done and then the reason why, covering his skin beneath his clothes. Cinderella had been freed, but she hadn't paid such a heavy price for that freedom.

Tubbo had. Tubbo was far from a Cinderella story.

Love inside an empty box

Tommy's love was dangerous. He learned that at a very young age. Love for him wasn't just a feeling, it was a physical thing, at least to his eyes. He could feel every last drop of care, of love gathering around him like a storm. And just like a storm, when the feeling touched down, it was deadly. People, animals, anything that was touched by the love he couldn't stop feeling crumbled under the weight of something that shouldn't exist.

Tommy couldn't stop himself from caring. But he could stop himself from hurting. Hurting others, at least. Tommy commissioned a solution from a witch with a terrible reputation for cruelty, but a renowned skill with magical crafting. It cost him everything he owned, and some of who he was, but he walked away with an empty box made to hold what he couldn't afford to keep.

For years after that, every time he felt love building up in his chest- his care for friends, the people he considered family, even for strangers- he tore it off of himself and flung it into the box. Over time, the box grew full, bursting at the seams with his love. He learned to discard all but the most precious feelings, keeping those in his overstuffed box that weighed nothing and locking them inside.

But no lock lasts forever. Nothing lasts an eternity.

Tommy was alone with nothing but his thoughts, his box, and the ghost of a brother who was only really that in the privacy of his mind. He let his eyes shut, the box held loosely in one hand. The ghost, not knowing the consequences, touched the box.

And the seams of magic holding it together shattered and the love Tommy had stored away broke free, as powerful and terrible as a hurricane.

If it had been Wilbur, the man would've died as surely as he had when a blade was thrust through his heart. But this was Ghostbur, and you cannot kill what is already dead.

Still, such power has consequences. All the love in the box, far too powerful to be contained for long, spilled over, pouring over and around the ghost and the boy.

Yes, such power has consequences. The boy with too much love and his brother that never was would face those consequences together.

(world is) full of wonders

Wilbur is a simple musician. He travels alone, playing an ode to all of the world around him. He sings to the trees, the sky, the river, the sun, anything he pleases.

Though he knows it's silly, he can't help but imagine they sing back. He tries to match the harmony he hears in his mind, tries to play along with the symphony of nature. He can never keep up, but likes to imagine the world is fond of his efforts.

But even musicians can stumble into trouble. Too caught up in the ballad he played to the tune of the wind, he didn't hear the rattle of bones, the drawing of a bow. He heard only the twang as an arrow released before it pierced through his skull and everything went black.

But Wilbur wasn't gone. He didn't cease to exist, like he always assumed. He felt the cool caress of the void, the gentle brush of the universe against his mind and he gasped. Clearer than he'd ever heard it, he heard the song of the world, in perfect harmony and tune. This time, it sang along to him, to the pulsing of his soul.

Wilbur had no body, but if he did he would weep. He had no lungs, no mouth, no voice, but his soul took up the melody he longed to sing anyways. He sang with the universe until the song became more and more impossible to replicate and he could only listen in awe.

He woke up painlessly, laying on a gentle green field. His guitar was by his side, and his sweater was cleaner than it had ever been. He knew instinctually that he was not in the world he'd came from. This was a new world, a universe untouched, a new song to add his voice to.

Near

It hit him, one day, as he absently peeled a potato over the sink. That he didn't remember if he'd ever touched another person.

Techno had froze for a moment. It was quite the revelation to have out of nowhere. He dismissed it a moment later, memories of how he and Phil would bump shoulders as they walked and talked fresh in his mind.

But all too soon his thoughts turned back to the uncomfortable topic. Sure he'd touched Phil before, but that was through layers of armor and clothing. Had he ever had skin to skin contact with another person? Anything, as simple as a handshake? Hell, even something during battle would count.

He came up empty, and it was driving him crazy.

He didn't need to touch people. He didn't. Having someone he cared about liked close to him was good enough. He didn't need physical contact to reassure him. He never had, not even as a child.

Though that may have had something to do with the chorus of voices he'd had in his head that had kept him on the brink of insanity for most of his childhood. His voices were always there, always with him, so what need did he have for another person's company?

Except he did like company, Phil's especially. And he had it, plenty of it, more than he could ever possibly need. So why did he suddenly feel so off balance?

He asked Phil about it next time he saw his friend. He kept it casual. It wasn't a big deal, he didn't need to worry Phil by letting how much this had bothered him show.

"Hey, Phil, have we ever touched?" He asked. Phil gave him a weird look, then bumped his shoulder.

"Like that?" He asked, unimpressed. "Mate, maybe you should check your own memory before you call me old man again."

"Nah," Techno dismissed, "I meant like... skin to skin. Like a handshake or something."

This actually gave Phil pause. He thought for a moment, then laughed.

"I guess we haven't. Weird. Why?"

"I... Don't think I've ever touched anyone like that," Techno said. He tried to keep his voice steady, but his heart was pounding as he poured out his weakness in front of Phil.

The other man was silent for a long time. Techno could practically hear the shouts of ever??? running through his mind.

Suddenly Phil turned towards him, pulling off a glove.

"Handshake?" He offered with a smile, something sad beyond the amusement in his eyes. Techno rolled his eyes, but he hesitated taking his glove off. Slowly reaching out, as if Phil's hand was a snake that might strike at any sudden movements, he placed his hand in Phil's.

The sensation was like a fire roaring to life on his hand. It didn't hurt, not like a real fire, but it somehow burned. He froze, his brain having trouble processing the bizarre feeling. It was overwhelming, and the best thing he'd ever felt, and yet it was almost a relief when Phil gently pulled his hand away.

"We'll take it slow, alright mate?" He said, nudging Techno with an elbow. The piglin's brain began to work again and he snorted, pulling the glove on again and falling back into step.

"Of course. We can't overwork your old man brain," Techno said dryly, earning him a sharper nudge. He grinned, the amusement softening to fondness as Phil walked just a little closer, letting their arms stay pressed together as they went.

It was strange how you didn't notice you were missing something until you had it. Bare contact was a little too overwhelming right now. So he was right. For now, this was enough. Having his best friend near him was all he needed.

Angel's Clover

There is a special plant that only grows in the land of celestials. An ethereal clover that sprouts from the weary souls that come to rest on the soils of heaven. The souls and the clover flourish in time with one another, tended to by the celestials that walk the lands. It is only a rumor, in the eyes of mortals, but one who walks among them knows it to be true. He is the Angel of Death, and his presence can never touch the sacred halls of the celestial lands, lest they wither and die.

But souls do not always complete the journey, to find their final rest above. Some souls are too broken, too hurt to reach the peace of the celestial lands. It is the duty of the Angel of Death to guide the souls, and it is his duty to heal them so that they may be guided.

In the land of the mortals, there is one place where the clover grows. It is in the humble garden of a plain looking man, who wears a large hat to block his eyes from the sun, and keeps his unearthly wings folded beneath his cloak.

In his garden, the Angel of Death nurtures the precious remnants of life.

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

Witchcraft does not reward shitty intentions

Hello, I am a day late with my mythological creatures AU, oh noooooo. Also, I had this filed in my brain as a love potion story and it took me way longer than it should have to realize that there isn’t actually a love potion in it. 

Read it on AO3!

Steve handed him his movies and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Then he closed it again.

"Spit it out, Bambi," Billy said. Steve stared at him for a minute, glancing around to make sure Billy was the only customer at Family Video.

"I just wanted you to know that it's not your fault," he finally said tentatively. Billy thought about all the things Steve could be referring to and decided he needed more specifics.

"What are you talking about?"

"The...thing. The attraction thing." Steve gestured between them. "It's not your fault." Steve sighed as Billy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not trying to make this weird. I just...I've seen how you look at me sometimes, and I wanted you to know that it's not you. It's me." Billy decided to ignore the fear in the pit of his stomach at the idea that Steve had apparently caught him looking. Neil was gone, he reminded himself. Sure, his first impulse was to shove Steve against a wall until he promised never to say shit like that again, but he suppressed it. He wanted to know what the fuck Steve was talking about.  

"Still not following, princess."

"I was cursed. By a witch. So people are, you know, attracted to me." Billy stared at him.

"And that's a curse because..." he prompted.

"Oh, the curse is that everyone is attracted to me, but no one can truly love me until the curse is broken." Steve seemed remarkably cavalier about it. Billy just stared at him again.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, still lost. This was not a conversation he had been expecting to have--ever, really--so it was taking him a minute to catch up.  Steve sighed again.

"I was kind of a shallow dick at the beginning of high school. Someone in our graduating class didn't like it, so she cursed me to experience the shallowest possible expression of love until someone comes along who feels strongly enough about me to break the curse."

"What does that even mean? And how will you know that the curse is broken?"

"Great questions," Steve said. "Unfortunately, the witch in question is still a little vague on the details." He raised his voice throughout the sentence until he was practically yelling the last part. Robin came of the back room and Steve played up glaring at her.

"Wait, Robin is the one who cursed you?" Billy asked. That seemed harsh, even for Robin, who could be absolutely savage sometimes. Also, she was Steve's best friend. Robin grimaced and threw up her hands, already defensive.

"Ugh, we're talking about this? Again? First of all, part of Steve's whole attraction deal is definitely the Fae thing, so you can't put all of that on me. Furthermore, I was sixteen and the girl I liked wouldn't stop looking at him, and we weren't friends yet, and I thought he was just a stupid dickhead jock!" Her gaze went to Steve and her tone was a little gentler, though still exasperated. "How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry?" Steve just shrugged. Billy looked from Robin to Steve and back.

"Okay, first of all, I have never heard about any of this so, yeah, we are definitely talking about it," Billy said. "And secondly, you made it so that Harrington can't experience love, Buckley. That's a lot of apologizing."

"Oh, that is rich coming from the dude who almost beat Steve to death approximately five minutes after arriving in Hawkins," Robin shot back. It wasn't exactly an unfair point, but Billy wasn't going to say that. He stared her down instead.

"Billy already apologized for that. And it was a long time ago," Steve said generously. Steve also generously did not mention that Billy had gotten so choked up he could barely finish the apology, and that he had spent the entire second semester of that year helping Steve with his homework without Steve asking him to. Billy also still sometimes shoveled the walk in front of Steve's apartment in the winter, and he showed up periodically to do maintenance on Steve's car. He was reminded of his guilt every time he saw the scar at Steve's hairline, was all. He definitely wasn't just looking for excuses to spend time with, or in the general vicinity of, Steve. Also, none of that was the point right now because it turned out that Robin had also fucked Steve over. And furthermore, what the fuck was the Fae thing?

"He can't. Experience. Love," Billy repeated. Jesus, Steve deserved better friends. "And also, what the fuck is the Fae thing?"  

"Steve's mom is Fae," Robin said. "And you're always so fucking dramatic. He can experience love," she insisted, but she sounded a little uncertain. "He falls in love all the fucking time."

"Yeah, but no one's ever going to love me back until the curse is over," Steve sighed. He leaned on the counter, looking a little forlorn.

"Every curse can be broken," Robin said stubbornly. "I just wasn't very detailed about the wording of this one."

"And that's important because..." Billy prompted. He let the Fae thing slide for now. That revelation felt like it warranted an entirely separate conversation. Robin sighed.

"Like I said, every curse can be broken. Typically, an experienced witch will build the conditions for breaking the curse into the spell itself. Said witch will be as specific as possible, to ensure that the conditions are actually met before the curse is broken. If, hypothetically speaking, you have an inexperienced witch who used the wording from a spell template she found on the internet, you get stuck with something vague like 'the curse will be broken when the power of love outweighs the power of the curse.'"

"Ok, so someone just has to love Steve more than you were mad at him when you cursed him. And, one more time, how will you know when the curse is broken?" Robin winced a little.

"There's usually some kind of indication?" It was much more a question than it was a statement.

"I take it that's another thing that is usually covered in the initial spell."

"Yep," Robin said, staring intently at the floor. There was a long silence, and she finally looked up at Steve. "If it helps, I think that curse is probably the reason my love life is a complete disaster. Witchcraft does not reward shitty intentions, even if you're cursing a stupid jock with dumb hair who, at one time, almost definitely deserved it." Steve stared at her, visibly suppressing a smile. 

"That's a really touching apology, Robin."

"Shut up, dingus." She nudged him with her elbow and he nudged her back. Now they were both suppressing little grins.

"I can't believe you're both just fine with this," Billy said, staring at them. He knew he was irrationally angry, but he had a nagging feeling that he had been personally wronged by this entire situation. He chose not to think too hard about why that was. Robin narrowed her eyes at him.

"I tried to lift the curse a bunch of times," she said. "I can't do it. Probably because it was such a shitty spell to start with." She sighed. "At this point I'm worried that if I keep trying, I'll just make it worse." Steve shrugged.

"It's okay. It's not like it changed my life all that much in the first place." Billy's eyes narrowed at the hint of bitterness in Steve's tone. "Besides, it's not like I can do much about it now. Except wait and see if someone ever falls in love with me hard enough to break it." Steve's tone had turned wistful, and he had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Someone will," Robin said quietly. She bumped her shoulder against Steve's and smiled at him. "I know they will, dingus." Steve appeared to come back to himself a little bit. He stood straighter at the counter.

"Anyway," he said to Billy, "I just wanted you to know that it's not you, it's me. And it will fade with time. It always does." He gave Billy a reassuring smile, seemingly unaware of how fucking sad that sounded. Billy stared at him for a long moment, thinking hard. Then he smiled back, a little wolfish.

"Thanks, Harrington. That is good to know." He gave the two of them a little salute and then took his movies and walked out of Family Video.

Billy got in his car, but he didn't start it immediately. Instead he sat there, staring into space. Steve was wrong, obviously; that wasn't even a question. If the only thing Billy felt for Steve Harrington was attraction, his life would be significantly easier. He knew what to do about that. Hell, he probably would have already done it, and he thought Steve probably would have been into it; Billy hadn't been the only one looking for a while now. The problem was that he wanted to hold Steve's hand and gaze into his stupid doe eyes almost as much as he wanted to lick him all over, and Billy didn't have the first fucking clue what to do about that.

It was three weeks later when Robin cornered Billy at the auto shop. His behavior toward Steve hadn’t changed, and sometimes he thought he saw a hint of wistfulness in Steve’s expression when Billy flirted with him. Like maybe he was a little hopeful. Mostly, though, he seemed resigned. A little sad. Robin watched their interactions with sharp, knowing eyes, and Billy wasn’t exactly surprised to find her waiting for him after a long shift on a windy, overcast Wednesday.

Robin’s eyes stayed on him as he approached, and then she glanced down at his pendant.

“You never take that off?” she asked. He was caught a little off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open with that. Or to ask about it at all.

“No," he said, suspicious. "My mom told me to always leave it on,” he added, not sure why he was volunteering information except that Robin occasionally reminded him a little bit of his mom. Something in her affect, maybe. Robin nodded, like his mom's insistence on it made sense to her for some reason. She pushed off the side of his car and waited for him to unlock it.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Go where?” he asked warily.

“My parents' house.”

“Why would I do that?” They weren’t exactly friends, despite all the time Billy spent at Family Video. Robin’s grin was sharp.

“Because I have a theory,” she said.

“Still not hearing anything about why I would want to do this.” Her grin widened.

“Do you want a shot at Steve Harrington or not?” she asked. Billy stared at her for just a second too long without responding, and her eyes sparkled, and then it was too late to do anything but get in the car and let her in the passenger side.

“Steve is cursed, remember?” His tone was acidic as he tried to regain the upper hand.

“He is,” she agreed, “but that might be less of a problem than we thought.” He glanced over at her and then back at the road. It came to him all at once, and suddenly he felt a lot less off-balance.

“You think I'm going to fix this for you,” he said quietly. Robin’s smile vanished and there was a long silence.

“Maybe. Kind of,” she admitted. “But not in the way that you’re thinking.” He glanced over again and cocked an eyebrow.

“Spit it out, Buckley,” he prompted when she didn’t elaborate. She shook her head.

“I’d rather show you when we get there,” she said. “You’ll never believe me otherwise.” He frowned at her, but didn’t argue. He could indulge her for a little while.

When they pulled up in front of her parents' house, Robin didn’t get out of the car right away. She stared up at the gabled  roof of the house instead.

“I don’t take it lightly, you know,” she finally said. She was still staring out the window. She didn’t look at Billy. “I was young and stupid and scared and it wasn’t Steve’s fault I felt that way, but it felt like it was. I did something terrible and I haven’t been able to fix it and it kills me how nice he is about it.” She turned to look at Billy and her eyes were dry, but he could see the emotion there. "I imagine you can relate," she said drily. Then she narrowed her eyes at him, calculating. “I really expected you to be a dick about it. I thought you’d find it so funny that King Steve was totally fucked when it came to love, but you didn’t look amused at all.” Robin’s eyes were intent on Billy. “You looked surprised and then angry, which was interesting. So I started paying more attention to you.” Billy stared at her, torn between anger and fear. Someone paying close attention to his life had not, historically, ended well for him. She must have seen it on his face. “Easy, big guy,” she said. “I’m not threatening you. In fact, I think I can help you.” Yeah. He’d heard that before. But Robin thought he could help Steve, maybe, and that was worth something. He sighed.

“So this theory.” Her smile was bright.

“Follow me.”

They ended up in an attic room at the very top of the house. The floor was bare wood with intricate designs painted on it. Billy thought they were chalk at first, but they didn’t smudge when Robin walked over them. Billy felt a tingle at the back of his neck when Robin closed the door, and then his ears popped. He looked sharply at Robin, who nodded to herself.

“Ok, so I need you to take off your necklace.”

“We literally just covered this; I don't take it off.” She was nodding.

"I know. But we're in a magically sealed room with very solid wards, so whatever your mom was protecting you from can't get to you here." She leaned closer, eyes on his pendant. She held a hand over it, not quite touching, but close enough to make him a little wary. "No, not protecting," she murmured, largely to herself. Her eyes went a little wide and came up to Billy's. "This isn't a protection spell. It's a concealment spell. A major one." Billy felt an echo of something familiar in her words, and it was deeply unsettling. He tried to keep the waver out of his voice when he spoke.

"What are you talking about, Buckley?" She straightened up and sighed.

"Again, it would be easier to show you." He just stared at her, stubborn. She rolled her eyes.

"Ok, fine. Your pendant is absolutely saturated with power. Fortunately for you, the only people you hang out with who are likely to notice are me, because witch, and Steve, because Fae senses. When you said you never took it off, I assumed it was a protection spell, but, well, you used to walk around with an awful lot of injuries for someone wearing a protective charm. That hasn't been true for a while, though." And there it was--the reason close scrutiny was never very good for Billy. Because he had a lot of secrets, and he still didn't like people knowing about them. His face must have betrayed him again because Robin's voice was gentle when she continued.

"Again, I'm not going to harm you. I can swear to it, if it would make you feel better."

"That's not super reassuring coming from someone who inadvertently permanently cursed her best friend," Billy muttered. Robin stared at him for a beat and then nodded.

"I'm going to let that one go because you're so obviously uncomfortable. But maybe be a little nicer to the person who is currently trying to help you."

"Don't need help," Billy said stubbornly. Robin just grinned at him.

"I think you just might. Now off." She gestured at the necklace. "Come on, you can put it right back on, and I promise this is a secure room. It's magically sealed up nice and tight." Billy stared at her for a long moment and then decided to humor her. He wasn't sure why. He lifted the necklace over his head and dropped it into the small silver bowl she held out to him.

"Cleansed and warded," she said, as though he had any idea what that meant. But she handled the bowl with respect as she set it gently on a table behind her. Then she turned and stared expectantly at Billy.

He felt the same as he always did, although he was just now noticing that the room was warmer than it had been before. He glanced at Robin and followed her wide-eyed gaze to his hands. His own eyes went wide as he stared down at them. His fingertips were glowing gold. The sight should have been shocking, but instead it was...familiar. It tugged at something in his mind--

And then he wasn't aware of much at all as a flood of memories swept over him. Sights, sounds, smells, the feel of power in his fingertips. His mother, talking him through the process as she prepared salves and potions and tinctures. The smell of fresh herbs and the mustiness of her drying room. Watching as she worked on his necklace every night for months. Her big eyes, sad on his as she explained. It's not safe, baby. I'm so sorry you have to hide, but I can't be there to protect you. It's not forever, I promise. My sisters will find you and they'll help you. The memories just kept coming. He was drowning in sensation and he couldn't get his bearings...

"--lly. Billy! Are you ok?" Robin's voice finally penetrated the haze of memories. Billy shook his head, trying to clear away the lingering headache caused by the flood. He gradually became aware that he was kneeling on the wooden floor of the room, hunched over, hands on the sides of his head. Tentatively, he lowered his hands and looked up. "Fuck," Robin breathed out. "You scared the shit out of me." She slumped down next to him. His fingertips were still glowing, but at least now he knew why. They sat in silence for a while. Billy eventually shifted until he was sitting cross-legged and closed his eyes, just breathing. The chaos in his head was settling, the memories slotting into place among the ones he already had. He took his time, wrapping his head around the way his entire world had just shifted on its axis. Robin seemed content to breathe next to him for as long as it took. It was a small kindness, but Billy wasn't used to kindness at all.

"So you thought I was a witch," Billy finally said slowly.

"Suspected," Robin corrected. "And I was right." She clearly had any number of questions, but didn't ask any of them. She just looked at him, eyes careful on his face.

"My mom was a witch," he said, trying out the words. They felt comfortable on his tongue. "I'm a witch," he tried next. It felt good. Right. He felt whole for the first time in a long time.

"I picked that one up from context, actually," Robin teased. He glared at her, but she just smiled.

"The necklace hid my power." He sighed. "She was trying to keep me safe." Robin was nodding. She carefully did not ask from what, and Billy appreciated that kindness too.

"Your mom must have been really good," Robin said. "That's major magic." Billy nodded a little. Now that he remembered his training, he knew just how much had gone into the spell. No wonder Robin had noticed it.

Billy flinched at a sudden knock at the door, and Robin's head snapped around.

"Robin? Honey? What exactly are you doing in my workroom?" Robin grimaced. She looked at the necklace on the table. Billy stood and reached for it, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"What if you lose your memories again?" she asked. Billy hesitated. The knocking came again and Robin seemed to make a decision. She tightened her hand around Billy's wrist. "My mom is...a lot, ok, but she's also very good. She might be able to help." Billy considered it. He wasn't ready to lose all those memories again. He let the pendant slide back into the bowl, hoping he was making the right choice.

Robin crossed the room and opened the door. Her mother stepped in, and Billy felt her presence immediately. It was clear why Robin had described her as 'a lot.' She wasn't particularly tall, but the room felt smaller as soon as she entered it. Her eyes swept over the two of them, just as sharp as her daughter's. Billy kept his back straight as she studied him. She closed the door behind her, and Billy felt that tingle at the back of his neck again. This time, though, he knew it was the wards kicking in, and he remembered the sensation from his mother's workroom at home. Robin's mom turned her attention to Robin, and Billy saw her swallow once. He tensed a little, but Mrs. Buckley just shook her head, a little fondly.

"Why exactly you thought I wasn't going to notice power of this magnitude in my own workroom escapes me," she said drily.

"I didn't know what was going to happen," Robin said. Her mother sighed, exasperated.

"That's not really better, love," she said, but there was affection in it. She turned her attention to Billy, eyeing him speculatively as she moved closer and held out a hand.

"Elle Buckley. Robin's mother and local High Priestess."

"Billy Hargrove," Billy said. He wasn't sure how to explain the rest. Fortunately, Robin's mom didn't seem to need much of an explanation. She crossed to the table and passed a hand over the bowl holding his necklace, though she didn't touch it. One of her eyebrows went up and she looked back at Billy.

"That must have been a confusing few minutes," she said. "You won't lose your memories if you put it back on. It will conceal your power from others, but not from you anymore."

"You're sure?" Billy asked.

"I am," she said with confidence. "It was elegant spellwork." She stared at him for a long moment. "Your mother, I assume?" Billy nodded. "She trained you?" He nodded again. Mrs. Buckley nodded to herself and turned back to Robin.

"That was reckless," she said. "What exactly were you thinking?" Robin flushed under her mother's scrutiny.

"He should know what he is," Robin said. Her mother just cocked an eyebrow and held her gaze, waiting. Robin sighed. "And I thought maybe he could help with Steve's curse," she admitted, mainly to the floor. Mrs. Buckley's expression went a little hard around the edges.

"We've been over this, Robin. The Harrington boy can get help from his family if he needs it." Billy looked at Robin, who was still looking at the floor. The Harrington boy? Not Steve, not your best friend. There was a story there. "Besides, Billy needs our help at the moment," she continued. She turned back to Billy.

"You've missed a lot of time as an apprentice," she said. "How old were you when your mother gave you the pendant?"

"Thirteen," Billy said. He wouldn't forget that age anytime soon; it had been a bad year. Mrs. Buckley nodded.

"We'll have to get you set up with someone in town," she mused.

"Not right away, though," Robin interjected. Her mother looked at her, surprised. "He literally just found out. He can take a little while to get used to it, Mom. He's got the basics, right?" Robin glanced at him and he nodded. His mom had taught him enough to keep himself and others safe. Robin's mom looked between them for a long moment, and then sighed.

"All right. Come see me when you're ready to get started. And keep that pendant on, for now, if you're not in a sealed workroom," she said to Billy. He nodded again. He had planned to do that anyway. Mrs. Buckley looked at Robin. "Next time, maybe give me a heads-up before you want to use my workroom? I can only help if I'm actually present when something happens." Robin also nodded, and Mrs. Buckley swept out of the room, pointedly waiting to open the door until Billy had his necklace on. He felt better with it back in place.

Robin led Billy out of the workroom and back through the house, and then followed him out to his car. She stood at the passenger door expectantly. He sighed and unlocked it. They sat there in silence while he lit a cigarette. She shook her head when he offered her the pack.

"What are we doing?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"I have two pieces of good news for you," she said. He gestured at her to continue. "You're a witch," she started.

"Wait, what?" he said, acting surprised. The smile vanished off of her face for just a second until she realized he was kidding. She shoved at his arm.

"You dick. I thought you had lost your memories again." She glared at him while he laughed. "What I was trying to say was that there are a couple of implications of your new status that you might find interesting."

"Oh?" he asked, drawing out the word, tone as obnoxious as possible.

"First of all," she said, smile going a little sharp, "curses don't work on other witches. So whatever you feel for Steve is all you, friend." She smirked when Billy looked over at her, and then she kept talking. "That was why I wanted to test my theory so badly." Billy thought about it.

"You know this doesn't actually fix anything, right? He's still cursed."

"Sure," Robin said, "but we found a nice little loophole, and now we can just exploit the shit out of it."

"So what, Steve just has to spend the rest of his life cursed? Come on, Buckley." Robin looked at him and then smiled.

"Hey, maybe the curse will be broken as soon as you kiss him. I suggest you try it. But please do me a huge favor and tell Steve the news when I'm there? I really want to see his face."

"Yeah, no, I'm definitely not doing that." Robin stared at him, amused.

"You don't seem quite as happy as I thought you'd be," she said, and then her eyes widened. "You don't know how to tell him that you like him," she breathed.

"What? I don't...I mean, I do..." She let him flounder, smile growing wider by the second. He finally trailed off.

"Good luck with all of that," she said, gesturing in his general direction. "The good news is that you're a witch and Steve is half-Fae, so you've got a long-ass time to get your shit together. I have a feeling you're going to need it." She opened the car door and got out.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, and then he felt bad. She had, after all, given him back a part of himself that he hadn't even known was missing. "Thanks," he said again, more sincerely this time. She held his gaze and nodded, giving him a small, genuine smile. Then she closed the car door and turned to head back into her house.

Billy sat there for a while, Robin's words from before ringing in his ears. Do you want a shot at Steve Harrington or not?  He did, obviously, and now he had one. What he still didn't have was any fucking idea what to do about it.

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Twelve

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P

-> Word Count: 4.2k

-> Warnings: talk abt breeder farms, cooking/killing a bunny lol

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

People pass by Y/n, becoming a sea of faces. All she could think was how she would get Mina back too. She would do anything to get Mina back. It seemed that it had become her centennial project. She wondered if she would ever just have the people who had become her new family all together, or would she die still looking for one.

“Where did they take her?” Y/n asked again. The huge boys hug and mess with each other’s hair. She wanted to shout but Bakugo saved her the trouble.

He looked around, “Where’s Mina?”

“Hunters got her two days ago. She went looking for Y/n and I heard her screaming at the edge of the field. I couldn’t run. They took her in a truck.”

“I’m so sorry Kirishima.”

He shook his head, “Y/n you went for food after you went for medicine to save me. None of this is your fault. We’ll get her back.” He looked at Bakugo and smiled. “I can’t believe you’re alive man.”

Bakugo ruffled Kirishima’s hair again, “You too shitty hair. You should have died a long time ago with your survival skills.”

Kirishima laughed, “Mina.”

“We need to get her back shitty hair.”

Kirishima nodded. Y/n couldn’t pretend that everything was warm and fuzzy.

She shoved him, “So how did you end up here? Why didn’t you stay at the farmhouse in the barn bunker?”

“I tried to go after them. I went over the hill and broke the branches like you told me. I knew you’d find me.” He shook his head at Bakugo. “She’s like a fucking terminator.”

Bakugo laughed, “I know.”

Kirishima fixed his hair, “Anyway, I came here yesterday. They all know you Bakugo.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I made friends at camp shitty hair.”

Y/n hated the way he called him shitty hair. She hated Bakugo in a horrid way. She wished he was at the breeder camp instead of Mina. Him and his girlfriend in the shorts. They have their mini reunion. She turned away and walked to the nearest small tent. She looked in the flap. A younger looking guy was asleep inside. Half his face was burnt. She walked from one small tent to the next, until she found one with a man with blond hair holding a pen and looking at a map that was spread across a table.

“Are you Monoma?” He nodded, but looked at Y/n suspiciously. “I need to know where the closest breeder camp is.”

He chuckled, “You aren’t thinking about volunteering are you? The food’s not that bad here.” She doesnt laugh, instead she looked at the map. She didn’t know how to read maps. She added it to the list of things her father should’ve taught her.

“My friend was taken. I need her back.”

He started laughing again, “What do you plan on doing?”

She looked up into his periwinkle blue eyes and stare him down, “I’m going to get her back.”

“Look, I get you’re upset but there is no getting them back. They go in and nine years later they get a nice house in the city. It’s not a baf gig. They get healthy food and a place to sleep. Your life here is harder.” She felt her face change. He put his hands up defensively, “Look we have bigger fish to fry than worry about one girl at a breeder farm.” He turned his back on her and looked at the wall of the tent where other maps were hung. She felt her fingers twitch. She wanted to pull an arrow. She left the tent disheartened and lost.

“Y/n where’d you go?”

She looked up at Bakugo and Kirishima walking toward her. She scrunched up her face and walked away from them both. She didn’t know how to be dramatic. She felt the need burning inside of her, but she didn’t physically know how to get angry without using her hands. She walked to a group of ladies who were standing around a fire.

She smiled sweetly and looked at the one who looked most like her mother did, “Hi.”

“Hi sweetie.” The rebellion people were nice.

“Do you know where the nearest breeder camp is?”

She frowned, “Yeah.” She looked over at a dark strawberry blonde who had a scar along her mouth, “Beth where was that camp that you all saw not far from here?”

“South east, over two small mountains and a ghost town. Used to be a place called Licoln there. Stay on the outskirts of that place.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You aren’t trying to go there, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, “No way. Just wanted to know where my friend went. Her nine years is almost up.”

The lady with the scar laughed bitterly, “Honey she aint coming back out here to shit in a ditch. She’ll get herself a nice place in the city. I hear they even got air conditioning again.”

A lady with a t-shirt with a big tongue on it laughed, “Oh girl, what I would do for air conditioning.” They all laughed and it made Y/n grin. She walked away from them and went back to the small tent. The man looked less than pleased to see that she was there.

“Really, you’re back again. Look I’m not sending a bunch of men to their death over some girl.”

“I’m not asking you for a thing. I just want to see the map.”

He held his arm out at the one on the table, “Have at it.” She looked at the compass on the map.

“Where are we?” He dropped a finger onto the map next to a blue line. She dragged her finger southeast to the place that said Licoln. She looked up at him, “Which way is south east from here?” He pointed to the back of the tent where the other maps were. He was blocking her view of them on purpose. “Thanks.” She started to walk in the direction he had told her.

Her quiver wasn’t very full. Normally she would make arrows once a month but she hadn’t had a chance in the last month. Nothing had been the way it would have been back at the cabin. She thought about the moment she stood at the door as Mina knocked outside of it. She remembered the regret. She saw Kirishima and Bakugo and started to walk faster. She didn’t know what to say, but running away from them seemed like a pretty good idea. Kirishima still has a limp, but they move quickly.

“Y/n wait up,” Kirishima shouted. She wanted to be alone. It figured the only boys she’s ever liked had to be friends. Her mom would have been proud. She too had a thing for friends.

Fingers bit into Y/n’s arm and spun her around.

Bakugo towered over her, “What are you doing?” He looked annoyed.

She pulled her arm away from him, “I’m going to find her.” She looked at Kirishima, “Stay here and get better. That leg isn’t going to heal with you walking around so much.” He looked hurt.

Bakugo grabbed her arm again, “Y/n we aren’t going to let you run off half cocked. We need a plan.” She felt angry, maybe it was because she liked them both or maybe it was because they’re not running after Mina, like she expected they would.

She glared at Kirishima, “When you fell in that holse she did the bravest thing I have ever seen anyone do. She told me that she didn’t care if I shot her but I had to come find you.”

He shook his head, “We need a plan.”

She pointed south, “There’s a three day hike, we can plan on the way.”

Bakugo’s grip on her arm tightened, “We’ll be down a mountain and in the woods alone with no resources when we find her. What plan can you come up with there?”

Y/n shook her head again, “I’ve made it this far without anyone.” She pulled her arm free and took a step back, “I don’t need either of you.” She felt something in her stomach. She should’ve grabbed food. She started her hike. She realized she not only had a plan but that she was starving. She heard their footsteps behind her.

“She’s really stubborn.” Kirishima tried to whisper, but Y/n could hear him.

“I noticed that. How’s the leg?” Y/n made a face but didn’t look back at them.

“Good. She did surgery on it. I don’t think I’ll ever win the Boston Marathon if it comes back in style.” Bakugo snorted, Y/n wanted to laugh, but she was pissed off.

“Mina been a handful?”

Kirishima laughed, “Oh my god. The year she started the road to womanhood was the beginning of the end. Oh my god it was so bad.”

Y/n felt her face flush with heat. She remembered getting her first period and cringed. She had thought she was dying for a few days. She had to read an encyclopedia on health in order to find the answers she had been looking for. She made rags and stayed indoors. She rubbed clary sage oil on her stomach for the cramping and put warm compresses on her stomach. It was the first thing she added to the list of things he should have told her about. Being twelve and alone in the forest was daunting. Bleeding every month for no reason was much worse.

She realized how far ahead of them she was when she came out of her daydream and couldn’t hear them. She looked back. They were laughing and walking like it was a stroll in the park. She glanced up in the trees to see the guard strategically placed. She knew they were still safe from the others but she couldn’t imagine laughing and joking and catching up the way they were.

She walked faster. She missed the silence and uncomplicated days of traveling with Hades. He would hunt and they would touch each other every now and again but neither of them needed to make a sound. She looked back at Kirishima and noticed the way he lumbered through the woods and let out a sigh. The bottom of the mountain led to a valley and she climbed a tree and sat on a sturdy branch.

“What do you see?”

“A highway. There’re cars on it, they’re burned.” It frightened Y/n. Scavengers were always nearest to the old remains. She stayed away from the remains.

“Do you see movement?”

She shook her head but narrowed her eyes to improve her vision. The infected had a way of not moving when you needed them to. The sun was going down and she wanted to scross the highway and be halfway up the next mountain before it’s completely dark. She climbed down the tree and tried not to look at either of the hulking men standing next to her.

She pulled an arrow and crouched low to the ground. She shut her mind off. She tried not to think when she was scared shitless.

She could hear Kirishima walking behind her, no doubt completely upright and picking his teeth with a piece of grass. Y/n decided to shoot him herself if he started to hum. The grass on the side of the highway was long. As she slipped through it the wind played with it, making it whisper. The birds here were not the kind who warn you of prey, they were scavengers. They wanted you to die.

The long grass swayed and played with her hair. Her heart was beating faster when her foot touched the gravel on the side of the highway.

She looked back at Bakugo and he nods. Kirishima’s lips curled into a smile. She couldn’t help but want to smile with him. She saw herself back at the cabin for the briefest of seconds. Images of her and him laying on the couch filled her mind. She smiled remembering the way they tried not to get caught staring at each other.

Her mind snapped back.

She closed her eyes and listened to the wind. There was no sound. She climbed out of the huge ditch and walked quickly and silently up onto the broken asphalt. It had started to crack from the weather and lack of care. Where her foot stepped first it crumbled. Her eyes scanned every inch of the deserted highway. Burned out cars sat staggered along the long straight road. The people caught in the traffic jams when the tidal waves were coming or the bombs were dropping to contain the sick. They fled from their vehicles. They left everything and ran. She remembered running.

She shook her head back to focusing. She slipped between an old burnt SUV and the skeleton of a small car. The hood of the car was lifted and the battery was gone. Not uncommon.

“Which way?” Kirishima asked louder than Y/n would’ve liked.

“Shhhh.”

The gravel on the other side was a welcomed sight. When her feet touched the grass she broke into a run. The bushes hit her in the face when she entered the forest. She ran until shesaw the tree she wanted. She climbed it and sat with her arrow pulled and at the ready. She scanned the highway and the ditch vigorously.

Kirishima was huffing and panting while he rested below the tree.

“Oh man you can run. Holy shit. I thought your leg was hurt. Whoa.”

“Kirishima.” Bakugo was back to being Business Bakugo. There was no fun with him, only survival. She didn’t take her eyes off the road. Nothing moved. She was about to climb down but she waited one more second. She saw the bushes across the move and pulled the arrow tighter. It looked like an animal but she couldn’t see clearly.

“I see something,” she said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Animal. Dog maybe.”

“Shit.” She looked down through the thick branches at Bakugo’s;ook and raised an eyebrow. “Trackers.”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and her eyes scanned across the highway again. The animal was gone. Nothing moved. She climbed down fast and turned to face the dense woods.

“That way.”

Kirishima looked pained, “Seriously? We’re going to run some more?”

She looked at him and nodded, “Think about what it’s like for Mina now. She’s terrified. She thinks the breeder camps are what we all think. She is waiting for her turn no doubt.”

He flinched, “Jesus Y/n. Easy on the visuals. She’s my friend for christ’s sake. I’m not bitching, my leg is just killing me.”

Y/n glared, “Is it bleeding?”

“No but it hurts.”

“Climb the tree and wait for us,” She handed him a water bottle from her belt. But Kirishima shook his head and looked at Bakugo who’s face was stoic

“Bakugo I’m not staying.”

Bakugo licked his lips and thought for a second, “You can’t hold us up.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes and sighed, “Let’s just go.”

Y/n held the water bottle out for one more second but he didn’t take her up on the offer. She turned and started to run. Her leg was sore and her stomach was empty. In her haste she never stocked up. Mina had been hard on her rules.

When the sun had started to set they were where Y/n wanted to be. Kirishima hadn’t complained and Bakugo was starting a small fire. She took her bow and found a nice quiet spot to sit and wait for something to make a sound.

The silence of the woods was alarming. She had never been in the woods here. She was exhausted but she stayed focused.

She heard the crunch of a stick and raised her arrow in the direction she heard it in. A large hare hopped over a branch and sniffed the wind. It’s ears twitched and Y/n knew that it had smelled her. She released the arrow, anticipating the hop it would do. The arrow slices through the neck of the rabbit. It tried to move for a second and then stopped. She gutted the hare where she killed it. She never brought it back with its guts. Leaving guts outside the cabin proved to be a mistake. She skinned it quickly with the skinning knife she kept and left the animal’sremains and carried the carcass to the fire.

She heard the cracking of wood when she got close. Bakugo was standing over the fire and Kirishima was sitting on a log next to him.

“So is there something between you two?” Bakugo asked but didn’t move his face.

Kirishima shrugged, “I don’t know. She’s a tough one to get to know. We kissed but it was a mistake.”

Bakugo looked at him and smiled, “I hear that. You remember the Laura Croft movies where Angelina Jolie was all hot and quiet but would kill anything that moved?”

Kirishima laughed, “Yeah. Exactly. Jesus, give her some pouty lips and bam. Laura Croft.”

Y/n felt her insides trembling. She didn’t remember the movies they were talking about. She couldn’t help but want to cry.

Bakugo laughed and shook his head, “But what a bitch though hey.”

She grabbed a rock from where she was standing and tossed it back a few yards. They couldn’t see her if she crouched.

“She’s back. Manners.” Bakugo spoke low and started poking the fire. She stood and walked from the bushes. She just wanted to throw the stupid hare down and leave them there, but her stomach was growling. She was exhausted. She would stay as long as it would take to eat and then she would be sleeping in a tree. Maybe if she was lucky she would fall in her sleep and wake up in hell.

Bakugo held out a small sack, “I have some potatoes from the camp and tinfoil.”

She nodded, “Okay.” She felt awkward. Kissing both of them was obviously bad, but having them call her a bitch after they kissed her was awful. Having Kirishima say it was a mistake was killing her. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She walked around him and found a good stick to make a spit with.

She searched the ground around the fire until she found a good branch. She stripped the small branches and leaves from it. She smirked and shoved the stick into the open neck. She was imagining it was one of them.

“You’re a scary little thing.” She frowned at Kirishima who was watching her get the hare on the spit. “It’s a compliment.” She didn’t stop frowning. It didn’t feel like a complement. Even if it was, it wouldn’t stop the pain of the kiss being a mistake.

She built a spit with rocks and branches and twine from her backpack. Bakugo sliced the potatoes and laid them in the tinfoil. He placed them high on a rock with a flat surface in the fires circle of rocks.

Bakugo glanced at her, “So what’s to plan?”

“Get captured and free us both.” He laughed at Y/n. “I can do it.”

He shook his head, “I know you can, it's just funny that’s all. You’re willing to sacrifice yourself to save my friend?”

“She’s the only person I’ve met that I liked. Genuinely.” It was a stab at them both. Fuck them.

He raised his eyebrows, “Fair enough.” He looked hurt. The image of the girl in the short shorts didn’t leave her mind easily.

Kirishima looked hurt, “What am I, chopped liver?” Y/n smiled. She hated that she was smiling. She hated that he made her smile so easily. He grinned at her and she remembered his hands on her. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. It made her feel sick.

Bakugo cleared his throat, “So how’ll you get captured?”

She shrugged, “Just act lost near the area.” She glanced at Kirishima who was still staring at her. His grin hadn’t left his face. She dug her stick in the dirt and drew a circle. She hit a rock and dirt went flying up at Kirishima’s face on his stump.

She laughed as he wipped his face clean, “Thanks.”

Bakugo laughed, “Stop being a baby.”

Kirishima shook the dirt out of his hair, “You did that on purpose.”

She put her hands up with the stick in them, “I didn’t, I swear.” She wish she had.

“I don’t think you shouldgo there, Y/n.”

She dug with the stick again, “I have to.” She didn’t say that she led them straight to Mina. She doesn’t say that it was all her fault. She didn’t have to. They all knew it was true. Bakugo turned the hare on the spit slowly. The smells were starting to make her stomach make noises she hadn’t heard since before she found the cabin.

Bakugo looked around, “When you get captured you need a way out.” He got up from the fire and muttered, “Kiri turn the hare.” He went to a tree and ripped off a branch. He sat next to Y/n on the log. The warmth of his body was touching her and it was setting her nerves on fire.

He bent down and drew a rectangle. In each of the corners he made small boxes, “There is a section that is for the women who are pregnant or about to be impregnated. This is probably where you'll go. Then this wing is for the younger girl who can't have babies yet. This is for the women with the babies. This is where the little girls are kept. Girls they raise to be breeders." He moved the stick to the other side and made a smaller box, "This is where the men are, if there are any men. Sometimes they don’t have any there." He cleared his throat nervously and drew an X in the middle but off to one side, "This is the fertility lab. This is where the lab coats and doctors and cleaners all stay. This is your only chance. They will have a dump somewhere near the clinic. The garbage goes every few days."

She frowned at him but Kirishima asked the question burning in her mind before she could, “Dude how do you know so much about the breeder farmer?”

Bakugo blushed in the firelight, “I lived there for a time.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, “As a cleaner or a doctor?” He laughed like he knew the answer.

Bakugo laughed, “I wish.”

Kirishim shook his head, “Nasty bro. Nasty.”

Y/n felt lost. She looked blankly at them both. Bakugo’s face looked like it was on fire.

“I was forced to um… donate.” Y/n didn’t understand what they were talking about.”

Kirishima started to make an odd motion with his fist, “He had to jerk his chiken for the big men.” She didn’t know what that meant but she nodded before they explained. Bakugo looked at her face and laughed.

Kirishima turned the hare, “So how many little Bakugo’s are running around?” Y/n felt her stomach drop. She understood. She felt judgment burn its way across her face.

“I wasn’t exactly in on the plans.”

Kirishima poked the hare, “How was life there?”

Bakugo snorted, “Thinking about signing up?”

Kirishima looked up, “Hey if there are three square meals a day and I get all the, um, reading material I need to deliver the goods, I’m in.”

The humor fell from Bakugo’s face. He almost twitched when he shook his head, “No. No three meals and material shitty hair. It’s more like milking a cow.”

Kirishima ignored the terror on his friend's face and grinned ear to ear, “Are there milk maids?”

Bakugo nodded, “Not the kind you’re thinking of. Mine was a guy named Dr. Stevie.”

Kirishima gagged, “Oh shit never mind.”

Bakugo looked down at the drawing again and chuckled, but Y/n could tell he was haunted by it.

“There’s no human contact Kirishima. It’s all done by machines, the girls and the boys. Anyway this section here has the surgeon’s clothes and boots. Change and climb into the garbage bin in the morning on a Tuesday or a Thursday or a Saturuday. The garbage comes around lunch and the best chance you have at not being noticed is then. They’ll be looking for you after lunch.”

Y/n felt sick thinking about the plan. She was not as strong as the look on her face suggests she is.

“I think it’s done,” Kirishima poked the hare.

Y/n shook her head, “Always over cook wild animals.”

Bakugo nudged her with his body, almost playfully, “You sure about this?”

She nodded and reached into the flames to turn the potatoes. The fire licked at her skin but she ignored it. It hurt. It was a warning of pain to come if she continued to stick her hands in the fire. Sitting between two men she couldn’t help but feel like it was appropriate.

[i-did]

what would make renee angry in your opinion?

I had a really hard time answering this one actually. I thought about it for a while and asked a lot of my friends to see if they had any ideas, and here's what I came up with:

1) A professor or TA who is super shitty to her

Just a really shitty teacher.

as she goes through college, she’s bound to run into some assholes, and I don’t think Renee has perfect grades in the past or present. her not knowing academic terminology and feeling out of place in the college setting would make a lot of sense for a lot of the foxes, and Renee is good on putting on a smile, but she still eventually gets that one professor or TA that scoffs at her questions and “doesn’t have time for the likes of her” and the constant complete dismissal digs painfully under her skin and brings out her anger.

2) People who are intensely rude to her despite her best efforts to be as kind as she can be

Renee is patient, but we all have our limit. similar to the one above, but Renee dealing with someone who is just rude all the time and she struggles to keep reminding herself “we all have bad days, I don’t know what they’re going though.” Renee working in a coffee shop and a woman bumping into Renee and spilling her coffee on herself, only to yell at Renee for an hour, ignoring all of Renee’s pleasant customer service smiles. said customer later on becoming a regular and repeating this behavior, cutting off people in parking lots and flipping them off, Renee being kind and trying to give her a free scone only for the woman to tell her she hates scones, Renee offering something else only for the woman to tell her to shut up. that shit wears you down, and Renee still dumping her kindness onto someone every time only for it to backfire or be dismissed would make her have to take a few deep breaths in the back room before deciding, fuck it, she's cut off from active kindness, now only passible neutrality and not being aggressive is enough. 

3) someone who refuses her help

her knowing she could really make a difference, but some people just don’t want help, and she feels helpless and angry. she's not angry at the person, but the situation of them not being ready to accept help or even able to accept help makes her so frustrated she would start to grind her teeth in her sleep. She understands how it is, how hard it can be to take the first step to change or giving up pride or whatever the hurtle may be, but that doesn’t make it any easier than her thinking in her head “just let me fucking help you!!! or anyone!!! just let anyone in to help you!!!! fuck!!!” inside her head. she knows not everyone needs help or saving, but some people do, and when they shove her back, unwilling and not ready for it over and over while she’s trying to save them, she gets frustrated that she can’t.... do anything. and just has to wait. but Renee can be patient, and she’s willing to wait. 

4) Someone actively trying to wear her down and get under her skin

okay so this isn’t something that happens often, the closest Renee has really come to it is with Andrew when he first was scoping her out. but– if someone was actively trying to aggravate her, laughing at everything she said and making fun of her, pulling at her looser strings and picking at her ticks, watching to see what brought out her reaction, they could eventually do it and get under her skin. i think she wouldn’t let herself blow up at them since thats what they want, but she would silently excuse herself from the situation to take a breather. no one really does this with her, and Andrew only does this to size her up and even still his interrogation isn’t the type of harassment i’m imagining. i mean like old school bullying, not locker shoving, but the middle school girl shit that leaves emotional scars. and them being older, they’re less afraid to show it and be more straight forward mean. people don’t really do this to her tho, its too much effort to get a reaction, and when they do, its never what they would have wanted, like crying, but instead is her smile falling and then finding a way to make them feel like shit. Renee is kind, but she also knows how to play on a similar level as them, not just with fists. i HC Renee as plus size, and fuck it is hard to be different in anyway as a kid. but childhood bullying was the least of her worries and these people dont see how deep her personal self assurance has grown and how she has learned to stand with her head held high and her face serine. her and dan are quite similar in this, but dan is much more active and direct while Renee is passive in her letting it glide over her, dan has even gotten annoyed on Renee’s behalf and then annoyed that Renee was not affected and why she didn’t fight more directly back. 

5) People who are overtly cruel and she struggles to sympathize with

okay so, you ever see someone so mean and rude for zero reason to someone else and you’re just like... what the fuck??? Renee doesn’t let others get to her really, but damn.... someone going after someone else in ways that are just so uncalled for and so harshly.... it gets to her. She once watched an episode of catfish where the catfisher laughed at the girl, uncaring that he crossed so many emotional lines and manipulated people without really any care. and she wanted to throw the remote and punch the tv right where the guys face was on the paused screen. nothing like someone just, kicking someone else while their down with no mercy, or making fun of someone behind their back and them not knowing, making fun of the deaf kids voice behind his back and he doesn’t see them doing it, and she’s like, man, Fuck. You. in her head. I don’t think she was like, always a nice person, in fact, i think Renee used to very much so not be the type to sit with the alone kid at lunch but instead ignore him and think “yea he’s weird, kinda ugly” without thinking much of it. But then she decided to change, and she took everything she thought it meant to be a good person, and became that. she started sitting with the alone kid, she started doing charities, she started to smile instead of punch, and she started going to church. and so when she sees cruelness she was once passive in the face of, maybe even active in, she uses kindness. Renee is she good at using taking the high road in such a graceful way it makes others feel bad. like when she tells Nicky calmly “thats not very nice” after he jokes about Seth dying in a car crash on his way from the airport book 1, and Nicky feels like shit. it feels like shit to get called out sometimes, and while its not her goal, she does know it is an effect of it. (i don’t think she’s mad at Nicky in that scene, but she did say something since she is there to protect hers and she redraws that line in that moment, especially without Allison or Seth there yet to say fuck you themselves.)

6) Injustice and systems of oppression

for these i feel she gets more frustrated, overwhelmed, and sometimes resigned. she knows how dark and shitty the world is, but she stays up at night with her hand on her heart as she breathes deep, thinking about how... utterly fucked everything is. its pretty easy for me to HC that Renee is politically far left and has seen the dark side to lack of resources and systemic issues that are just... so overwhelming she doesn’t even know what she does as just one person. world pollution, corruption, class divide, flint water crisis, the homeless crisis, the prison system, functioning segregation in school systems, just... it all. she’s had nights after volunteering where she thinks “i did something, i did.” and she has days where she realizes “...i’m doing nothing, in the end... its all for nothing, there’s just too much.” just a bad day where she sits there, thinking about how much is wrong and wont be fixed and how ‘doomed’ things are, how broken, and she doesn’t feel at a loss, but rather this deep anger that comes from who she was before. 

7) herself. 

Her being unable to live up to her own standards. she still thinks mean things, she has mean and cruel urges, and when she has them, she remembers that she’s still a bad person trying very hard to be a good one, and she thinks she’s still a bad person at her core. she’s not self loathing with it, but she does think to herself “i’m a hypocrite.” and sits with that thought for a minute. sparring with Andrew has helped her, to balance the two sides of her in a way that feels both self indulgent and honest to her path forward. but sometimes while sitting in that church pew, she thinks of her dead mother, her dead step father, those she turned in without batting an eye, stabbing in the back to save herself, and she thinks “i should feel something.” but she doesn’t, she wasn’t sorry then and she’s not sorry now. and she thinks, “the others call Andrew a monster, and they don’t realize that i’m one too.” and she tries to muster up something deep inside her, but she cant. and it can frustrate her, how after all these actions, all those hours of beach clean up and homeless shelters and building houses in some other country and going around clapping her hands to the songs, but she’s still the person she is deep down. and it gets to her. i think her having a conversation with Neil one day, on what it means to be a real person, is she pretending who she is? is she her thoughts or her actions? which is the real her? and Neil saying, it’s all of it. every facet of the self is still the self, he is Nathaniel and Neil and Abram and every other person he has been and will be. we change but we are also always ourselves, and her actions are just as true as her thoughts. 

[sazafraz]

Solace

Requested by: @solari-writes-things

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: Viktor Vector x OC: Talia Song

Prompt: From Dialogues with Emotional Connotation; “Pain is not an easy thing to ignore/There are an endless number of things I wish to forget.”

Warning: Possible Spoilers

Requests: OPEN

HERE WE GOOOOOO, ALL ABOARD THE PAIN TRAIN CHOO-CHOO!

Victor chuckled as he sat in front of his old friend. Ripperdocs usually had a large network where each one knew the other. It was beneficial, when one needed help or materials, it only made sense to help each other if they needed it and were reliable enough. Not to mention, Talia Song was a complete legend.

One of the most famous ripperdocs, she was aggressive in her work. She single-handedly fought against Arasaka to steal their cyberware. High quality gear led to anyone and everyone wanting her to upgrade their chrome, sometimes at a high price, sometimes at a lower price for less fortunate individuals. Her power, skill, and charity for deserving people led to the name Xuanwu becoming a Night City staple.

“You never cease to put a smile on my face, Talia.” Viktor smirked and relaxed in his seat. The room was dim, but he could see her face clear as day, smiling back at him.

“I’d be real worried if I couldn’t Vik.” Talia chuckled. They had met a long while ago, when V had needed both their services for a job they were going to embark on. One thing led to another, and Viktor got to see firsthand how Talia happily bashed into Maelstrom heads with her efficacious hammer. There was something to her fervor that didn’t exist in Viktor, that interested him.

She was fiery, determined, headstrong, and rather powerful. She was also very gladly open to her attraction in the older, more easygoing man. Don’t get him wrong, Viktor has a very piquant side to him, but it was usually reserved to those who sent emails saying he was dead. Sure he was, that’s why his cabinets were filled with countless Undisputed Champion trophies. Try him, motherfuckers.

That first encounter led to more relaxed hangouts, where Viktor got to know the person behind the frenzy. Avenging a wronged father, caring for a sweet (and lazy as all fuck) viper, and healing from a scarring cyberpsycho encounter helped him connect with her on a more intimate level. It was often they’d sit on her couch, eat shitty takeout and watch old flicks while they exposed the more reinforced aspects of their being.

Today wasn’t much different. He held a sad smile on his visage, listening to her recount to her latest escapade. She had stolen back supplies from a nearby vendor who was begging his neighbors for help. “Talia Song, a charitable contributor of Night City.” Viktor chuckled.

“Hey man, I know you do nice favors for the needy. Guess we can start a volunteer service.” She snickered and leaned back in her seat. “Nah...I do it cuz I want to. After all these years, people suffering just makes my blood boil. Innocent people, too.”

Viktor nodded and twiddled with his thumbs, taking her features in. They were ones he loved feeling under his calloused hands. “Well...pain’s not an easy thing to ignore. Hurts, seeing so many people fucked over by the city. Not like any of the rest of the country is better...” he shook his head, scratching the back of his head. He subconsciously mused over his bald spot.

He let out a shaky breath, and gulped, putting his hand back down. “Sorry it’s uh...just been a while since we talked, yknow?” He watched her lean forward to extend her hand, but he adjusted herself, clearing his throat. She watched her slowly sit back to where she was.

“Yeah, it has been. What’s up with that?” She chuckled a bit, to try and lighten the mood.

“I’ve been real busy.” He nodded. V comin’ in and out, Misty needing my help, lots of patients...yknow, just a big surge.” He offered a smile, noting how she gently fiddled with her hands.

They were the softest hands imaginable. Her entire body was soft. He thought back on how he loved placing gentle kisses on the crook of her neck, right below her ear, on her navel, and more...as he slid down to give her the most pleasure he could. Then, when he’d be buried deep within, all he could think about is how to be closer. Closer to her body, her mind, her soul. Everything about her melded perfectly against him, and every time he’d think back to it, he’d lose himself in the memories. It almost brought him momentary peace.

“Yeah, it kinda feels like you’re not telling me everything. Look at you, you’re like a sitting brick, all stressed. What’s going on?” Talia sounded more concerned now. Her voice was gentler, her eyes understanding with worry.

Viktor took a moment to look at her face again. It took everything in his power to fight back tears. “So...much has happened, Talia. A whole bunch of hurt...there’s an endless number of things I wish I could forget from the past few weeks. One in...one in particular.” He nodded.

Talia leaned forward. She was incredibly fond of Viktor. loved him, even. The way he would hold her, kiss her, love her. His eyes were always soft and gentle, his actions tender and considerate. If she had to choose anyone in Night City to spend the rest of her life with, it would be Viktor. To hear him on the verge of breaking down hurt her. “Like...like what?”

Taking a deep breath, Viktor took off his glasses and looked straight at her, his eyes watering. “We lost someone...I lost someone...important.” He nodded slowly. “And, I’ve lost a ton of people in my day but...I don’t know if I can get through this particular loss.” He cleared his throat, trying not to let his voice break. He saw a message from V pop up in his reticle.

“Holy shit Vik...who?” Talia was no stranger to loss. Her mother, her father, countless friends...nearly even lost Jackie and V. “Viktor, who fucking died?” She watched him get up.

We gotta go, the message read. On my way, was Viktor’s reply. He sniffed and quickly placed his glasses back on. “I’ll see you around, Talia.”

“Vik, hold on...Vik!” She got up herself and tried going for him, but the moment she reached the glass window separating the two, she phased back. “Vik?” He turned around with his kind, but saddened smile. “Love you Talia.” As he walked out, he listened to her questioning voice fade away. Only when he got in V’s car, slamming the door shut, did he let out a shaky breath. He stared at his shuddering hands, droplets of tears on them. While V pulled away, Viktor took one last look at the large building, black and tall in its mourning.

Never again would Viktor visit Mikoshi.

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