#so you know. having gone through all that and figured things out. big fan of ND grian AINDJDSK

[solargeist]

y’know i didn’t figure out what Stimming was until I was like, 19 years old 😭? Anytime I had the urge I’d always suppress it and i think that’s why i was so crazy as a teenager

[wonderlandwalker]

First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner. (read part 2 here) Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n Word Count: 1.4k A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it

“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.

“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.

“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.

“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.

“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it. 

The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.

“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”

“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.

As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.

“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.

“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.

Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out

“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.

“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition. 

He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely

“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.

“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.

“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand 

“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.

Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold. 

“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.

“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.

“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking

“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.

“I’d love to.” 

“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.

“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence. 

“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.

[part 2 here]

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。here, just for you | bakugo katsuki

wc: 1.0k summary: you give bakugo flowers, and he can’t figure out why. contains: implied f!reader but i don’t mention anything specific, talks about flowers and a kind of early established relationship, just fluff and bakugo getting flustered while going through the motions of a relationship!  a/n: this is aged up to when bakugo is a pro! i envision him maturing a lot and mellowing out a little so hopefully this captures that!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

Bakugo doesn’t know what to expect, stepping into his office after a long day on patrol—actually, scratch that. Bakugo doesn’t expect anything, really, besides his office to look the exact same way he left it this morning: pristine and orderly. 

And it is, for the most part—save for a small bouquet of flowers sitting delicately on his desk. 

It isn’t uncommon for him to receive some; companies and politicians often send them to express their good graces. But those usually go through PR first, along with the many other trinkets and letters received from fans. 

So, it shouldn’t really be a big deal, except, flowers have never appeared in his office, on his desk, with a note written in your handwriting, until now. 

Bakugo prides himself on his good memory; he remembers holidays, birthdays, and since being with you—potential anniversaries too. But there’s nothing, complete zilch that comes up when he tries to recall what today could be. 

He furrows his brows, looking for your contact on his phone. Most of his hero costume is gone now, all of the chunky pieces stored away to reveal the plain black jumpsuit he wears underneath. Clunky boots replaced by rubber shoes he wears more and more these days. 

He reaches for the bouquet while his phone rings, fingers sliding through the leaves softly. It’s a simple arrangement: a few gerberas and tulips standing out in pink and orange against small bunches of baby’s breath and cocculus. There’s a homeyness to it he can only attribute to you. 

“Katsuki?” you pick up, warmth and affection coming through.

“Y’got me flowers?” he asks gruffly, thumbing the note you’d written. 

There’s nothing on it but ‘For Katsuki’ in your cursive. No indication of what it’s for, or why you’d given it in the first place. He’s confused and maybe a little nervous; did he forget a date or something?

“Oh, yeah!” you exclaim, a string of ‘pings’ sounding your request at a video call. 

Lately, calls with you end up this way. For the longest time, Bakugo’s been a text-mostly-and-call-but-no-video-only kind of guy; it’s quick and efficient, gets things done with minimal fuss. But since getting together with you, texting’s begun to feel a little bit insufficient without your voice accompanying it. Regular calls suffice, but you know how harsh his words can sound despite his face saying otherwise. 

Your relationship is kind of old but still kind of new—a few months before you celebrate one year, and he still rolls his eyes (at himself) whenever you do this, lips quirked up as he clicks ‘accept’ (as if he can’t believe how you’ve single-handedly changed his phone habits just like that). 

You wait for him to adjust his phone, portions of his office in blur before he props it against the All Might paperweight on his desk. You continue, “Do you like it?”

He shoves the bouquet into the frame, smothering the microphone until all you hear is muffled noise. 

“Sorry, baby, I think you’re covering the mic.”

He tuts and you laugh as his face comes into view a few seconds later. His eyebrows are bunched together in the way they characteristically are and you see remnants of his black eyeliner smudged across his eyelids. Even at the tail end of his day, tired and just a little bit grumpy, Bakugo still looks pretty illuminated by the light on his phone.

It’s unfair, you think.  

“S’nice.” he murmurs, fiddling with the petals, “Thank you.” 

You catch his gaze and smile, “You’re welcome.” 

There’s an uneasiness to Bakugo’s eyes that you can tell comes from uncertainty, and you give him the silence to sort through it before he lets you know eventually, just like he always does. 

“I–”, he looks to the side, away from the camera. The crease between his eyebrows grow deeper before clearing his throat, “–M’not forgetting anythin’ today, am I?”

You tilt your head, puzzled, “I don’t think so, unless I’m forgetting it too.” 

“So why’d–”, he looks back to the bouquet, sighing, “–why’dya give me flowers?” 

Bakugo prides himself on his good memory; he knows your favorite food, and your usual order from that café you both go to down the street. He remembers that one sunday, during a hike, when you told him in passing that it was the best day of your life. You don’t like fuzzy socks because they make you sneeze, and you’re allergic to dust but continue to tend to him even when he’s covered entirely in it. 

Bakugo knows all these things and makes it a point to because a relationship–this relationship with you–is new and kind of hard, and this is one way he knows he can be good to you.

“Oh,” you blink, before answering so casually, so honestly, “I just wanted to.” 

Ruby eyes stare back at you, a mixture of emotions you can’t decipher swirling in them. His fingers slip through the leaves of the bouquet once more before his gaze softens.

“Ha.” he huffs out, almost chuckling to himself in relief. 

“Yeah, ‘ha’,” you tease, laughing, “they’re just for being you, Katsuki.” 

The look you send him is fond, but the feeling it gives him is anything but. Every time you laugh, and smile, and speak to him as if he is every bit deserving of the love you give, there is a battle raging in his ribcage. He doesn’t know when it’s ever going to stop feeling that way–if it ever will. The sides of his neck begin to flush red, and you giggle, finding it every bit endearing. 

He clears his throat again, trying hard to hide how flustered he feels, “D’you make it?” 

You nod, “Been trying flower arranging lately.” 

“S’pretty.” he supplies, turning the bouquet around to show you. You grow shy, Bakugo knowing full well how terrible you are at taking compliments. 

“You should get going, it’s getting late.” you mumble, snuggling into your blanket, the one he’d left in your apartment months ago. 

Bakugo grunts in agreement, “Tomorrow, 7am?” 

You hum, “Message me when you get home,” reminding him, even though this is routine by now. 

The next day, just like every other Tuesday, Bakugo will pick you up at 7am for a trip to that café you go to down the street. And maybe, on another day, you’ll get him flowers again, just for being your Katsuki. 

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in the mini series - this is the second version, more sadder so that's a heads up there

summary: remi starts her first year of school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

warning: talks of death.

alternative ending for this one - please don't hate me for it, i'm sorry in advance!

based on the reactions to this one, is how i am going to figure out the next mini series!

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go as expected. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day that your eldest daughter started big school, but sometimes life takes you by complete surprise.

That day, life had a far bigger surprise than you or Leah could ever have imagined.

“This doesn’t feel right, you should be here,” Leah speaks aloud a few hours later, cradling your newborn son, Archie George Williamson at home  in her arms, knowing that you should be here to see this moment as well. 

His tiny breaths, soft and slow, his fingers curled into little fists – You’re not there to hold him yourself.

The labour had been far more complicated than anyone could have anticipated and you lost too much blood, and though they tried to save you, you never woke up after your son came into the world.

Leah's eyes are red from crying, but she’s holding herself together for the sake of the baby – For the sake of the three children that you’ve left behind while she strokes Archie’s head softly, “I hate that you aren’t here, I hate that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day," She murmurs, almost to herself, “We promised her we would both be there.”

The room feels empty without you, a hollow space where your laughter and warmth should be. Leah feels the ache of your absence in every corner, in every breath she takes.

“I hope you know how much your Mumma loved you already, little man,” The blonde whispers,  her heart breaking as she looks down at Archie, whose little face is scrunched up while he sleeps, “Believe me, she loved you so, so much from the minute we found out we were expecting you.”

As she takes a deep breath to steady herself, she continues to speak, “Our family might not be complete now, but you’re here, Archie Bug and we’ll make sure that you know all about her.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway as Amanda has brought Remi and Esme back from school. Leah wipes her eyes quickly, trying to put on a brave face as the door flies open.

“Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement, her hair now wild and free from it’s ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity, unaware of the loss that’s waiting to be explained.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly, her heart aching as she realises she’ll have to tell them soon.

Remi, always so observant, stops short and notices the bundle in Leah’s arms, but frowns when she doesn’t see you on the sofa like she thought she would, “Where’s Mumma?”

Leah’s smile falters, the weight of her grief momentarily overwhelming as she struggles to find the words, “Mumma… She’s not here anymore,” she says softly, her voice quivering.

Remi’s head tilts in confusion, not able to understand your wife’s words so much, “What do you mean, Mummy?” She asks as her eyes fix on Archie as she tiptoes over to Leah with exaggerated caution, “Is this him?”

“It is,” Leah responds, her voice trembling, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a small, sad smile as she continues to hold Archie in her arms.

Amanda, who has walked through the house with Jacob, peers over to look at her new grandson, “He’s perfect, Bubba.” She says, sharing a sad smile with her daughter.

Jacob scoops Esme up into his arms to give her a better look at your newborn, “He’s very little still, Es, so you have to be very gentle with him.” He tells her.

Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mummy,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

Leah laughs softly, tears threatening again, “He is, isn’t he?” She pauses to settle Archie down in his Moses basket, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Jacob sets Esme down next to Remi, watching the two girls stare at their brother in the Moses basket as Amanda takes the moment to wrap her arms around her daughter to comfort her.

Wanting to be brave for her children, Leah wipes away any visible tears and plasters on a fake smile as she looks in the direction of her daughters, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, catching the moment that Esme tries to reach out and poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie.” She reminds her with a soft smile.

Archie just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep, already learning to find comfort in the noise around him.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” Leah tells her softly, her voice catching in her throat.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, pushing past the weight in her chest, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes, trying to make light of the situation despite how heartbroken she feels inside.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” Jacob rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners in this house,”  Leah shrugs, trying to hold onto the joy in the room, “Just as long as all 3 of my kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me now.”

“Can I hold him, Mummy? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at Leah with those big, hopeful eyes that match her own.

Leah nods with a smile that almost feels real, “Okay, Rem, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” She instructs gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold Archie. Leah gently lifts the sleeping baby from his Moses basket, cradling his body with steady hands, though her heart feels anything but, as she slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Remi’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Rem,” Leah whispers back, her voice breaking just a little, how she wishes you were to see this, to be part of this moment.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as Leah quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Leah agrees, her smile wobbly but genuine as she looks down at Archie before leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As Leah watches her three children, she feels the weight of your absence, an ache that will never fully leave but she knows that no matter what, she needs to be strong for them now. Making sure that they never forget you, she will keep your memory alive in every way that she can.

Because even though you’re not here, your love is and Leah will make sure that’s enough.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[onlyrains]

BLIND DATE & TRUTH

pairing: park sunghoon x reader | genre: slight angst, enemies to lovers (?) (not really) | wc: 1.8k | warning: sunghoon as former figure skater, mention of bully, lmk if theres more a/n: def not my best but let me know if you want a part 2! it's longer than usual, hope you don't mind it ;)

if you only could choose one thing to hate with your whole heart, that must be the time when you liked park sunghoon.

—maybe liked is an understatement. you literally idolized him… adored him… and you loved him.

you hate the fact that you had loved him for the longest time to the point where you gaslight yourself to not knowing him at all, when his ridiculously perfect face is engraved in your memory.

you used to watch all his figure skating performances on any channel you could find on the internet. you even have his schedule on your mind while he was literally your groupmate in chemistry and english literature. you knew how many medals he got—and which competition they were from—when you acted oblivious to anything in front of him. you were basically a fool.

and he thoughts so too.

the whole thing ended when he found out you were a big fan of his. his friend even spreaded a fake rumor that you had his photos all over your bedroom walls for a very inappropriate reason. the worst part was he didn't even ask you for any explanation. he refused when you tried to hit him up and let the school mock you for the rest of your year in high school. he ruined your high school days.

and a couple weeks ago, your mom suddenly begged you to go on a blind date with her friend's child. you were a bit surprised, but as an adult now, you tried to handle it in a very mature way. you managed to make her promise to let you live on your own after you attend this date. you had no choice when she finally agreed.

and today is the day. you're just a few meters away from your date and you have your mom massaging your shoulder to loosen up a bit.

“don't forget about your promise, mom.” you say before let out a long sigh from your mouth. seeing his back facing you makes it ten times more chilling then it already is. you rarely speak to someone with such a romantic intention and now here you are, on a blind date your mom forcefully encourages you to go on.

“don't worry, honey. now, shoot your shot.” you snort at her words. somehow feeling a knot forming in your chest after staring at his back for a second, quite suffocating.

your sweaty fist glued on your hips before you take a confident step towards his table. heart pounding out of nervousness, in contrast with the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant.

“hello, are—” your words hanging mid sentence. your breath stuck in your throat as he looked up to you and gave the same reaction.

there he is. the park sunghoon—adult version of park sunghoon—and more muscular version.

you squint at the prior spot of you and your mom stood. she's gone. “oh?—nevermind. i might just go.”

you don't even hesitate to walk away through the exit door but his replies make you halt halfway. “or maybe you shouldn't,” his gaze fixated on you with raised eyebrows.

“i know you're surprised—well, me too. but i think we have a bigger business to do today, don't we?”

“what do you mean?” your jaw clenched.

“i have a deal about this meetings. aren't you too?”

you roll your eyes remembering the freedom you always dreamed of.

i'm free today. i'm free today. i'm free today. you repeat the phrase like a mantra in your head.

“have a sit, please?” sunghoon voiced again and you obey him.

“well, how are you?” he asked, stacking one leg on top of the other.

you feel like throwing up. honestly, seeing his face this close is your nightmare to say at least. hearing him ask how you are is the biggest bullshit you've ever heard in your entire life. he doesn't seem like he carries guilt like you do with shame and embarrassment.

“how could my mom know your parents?” you ask sternly.

“c'mon, relax, miss. it's not like i know how they met in college?”

“they're met in college?” you repeat.

“not so good relationship with mother, eh?”

you frown. how could you love someone like him? a high schooler is indeed so stupid.

“what do you want?”

“me? eat. i'll have my lunch here.”

“sunghoon, i'm ser—”

“so you remembered my name.” an amusement painted on his face. “i thought you hated me that much.”

“i shouldn't forget people who ruined my teenage self, right?” you almost let your impulse win to leave from his sight in a heartbeat.

“yeah, that is right.”

“your order, sir,” a waiter arrived and placed two plates of pasta on your table. sunghoon take a glance at how it paused your movement.

“hope you're a fan of pasta too,” he said as the waiter finished filling his drink.

you hiss at the fact that your mom friends with his parent. why should it be him? out of all men in the world, why him? you really dressed so nice for this meetings to respect your date thinking this might be first and last time you met each other and now you regret it with all your heart. you don't need to look this fine for him. he doesn't deserve it.

“the food here is too good to be thrown out, y/n. dig in.”

your gaze still on him, hoping your sharp eyes leave a cut on his nose so he knows how much you hate him.

“have a bite. i ain't going nowhere. you can stare at me as much as you want.”

your grip on the fork tightens. he glances at your white knuckles calmly before opens his mouth. “see, i have an important deal after this meeting, y/n. we need to make this end smoothly.”

“we? so your deal depends on me?” you ask, his chewing slowed down.

he shrugs. “it wasn't like i knew i'd be meeting you and put everything on your hand. my deal is still depends on me. don't be burdened.”

“burdened? ridiculous. i'd be happy if i take a big part, tho.” you say with a pleasant voice. “meaning i have you in a palm of my hand.”

he scoffs. “well, not that much. i'm still their child afterall.”

you raise an eyebrow. “oh, the deal is with your parent? really?” a soft chuckle escapes from your mouth. “so a twenty-seven sunghoon is still begging things from his parents? where were the ace park sunghoon in high school? bet people oblivious about him being a loser now.” you swear your heart has never been so relieved before.

his jaw tenses. “and bet they haven't forget about the loser y/n. now she's twenty-seven, lonely as fuck, haven't move on from high school, and still a loser.”

you laugh, don't know why his attack tickles your stomach a lot. “that's very consider of you to observe your fan too, sunghoon.” you smile, decide to face your own ashamement, to eat your own resentment you keep for years. “i didn't know if any former figure skater do that too.”

he gulps at the reminder. it's been years since the last time since he heard the word ‘former figure skater’ being thrown to his face. that was years ago since he gave up on everything. that was years ago since he finally agreed to take a place in the company his family owns. that was years ago since he felt less stressed and had the freedom for the last time.

and you lightly bring it up after the effort he gave to bury everything down. he is indignant.

he reaches for your hand to hold it firmly. “better use that mouth for something more useful, y/n.”

“better treat me nicely for your own sake, park sunghoon.”

“you too, y/n. whatever deals that made you show up here won't end well if you keep acting like this. so shut your pretty mouth up and finish your food.” his low voice echoing your eardrums, sending chills down to your spine. the jazzy music in the background got silenced by his tensioned growl.

you slightly flinch on your chair. the air is getting hotter and the knot in your chest feels a little bit too throttling. did you cross the line? was that too mean? or is he just a temperamental jerk?

you swallow the lumps in your throat and take a sip of your white wine. “is it about your family?” you ask after mustering up courage. the mere thoughts about the deal possibly involving you are so bothersome.

he looks up with a glare that could punch a hole in your face. “you care now?” he took a mouthful.

“i'm not. just make sure that's nothing to do with me.” you are still indecisive about whether wanting to demolished him slowly or forget everything that happened today and continue your work-oriented life as usual.

he rubbed his hair with his palm frustratedly. “it is not, okay?” he sighs. “see, this is why they never liked you, y/n. you always only care about yourself. you're too self-centered. it was because of you. not me. i didn't even do anything back then.”

your breath ragged. “exactly! you've done nothing! you knew it was all a lie yet you've done nothing! you let them ruined my life, sunghoon.”

a couple pairs of eyes starting to turn to your table.

“i spent the last year of my high school in full horror. and that's because of—”

“i didn't! i've done everything i could but they were just too caught up with the story! they didn't want a fact, they wanted a new target!”

your breath hitch. almost sobbing right away from the overwhelming emotion you feel. you just hide it for too long and maybe today is indeed your free day. you want to let all your feelings show in front of him.

“then i left for the national championship,” he adds, with a lower voice. “that was my last chance. they sent me to the training center for months and i tried to do anything but training. my mind was so full of you but i was basically isolated from the outer world.” his buff shoulder drooped. a guilt written on his face.

a tear fall down your cheek.

“and i didn't make it to be a national athlete, y/n. i didn't. and i couldn't see you after graduation because i was too busy to convince myself that it wasn't your fault. it really wasn't.”

you broke into tears, your hand spontaneously covered your face. this is too much to process. you need a whole week to absorb everything you just heard.

that was nonsense, right? you can't be hating a wrong person after all this time.

you heard him stand from his chair and walk away. that's fine, you think. he has all the rights. he can leave you alone with your gorgeous red dress that hugged your body perfectly in such a nice fancy restaurant. yes, he can. he absolutely can.

your phone rings with the custom ringtone you chose specifically for notifications from your mom.

“let's go, y/n. my mom waits for you.”

[heartpascal]

the world is brighter

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel is trying to be someone he’s not.

▹— a/n: so this is meant to be the reluctant daughter fic…. and it didn’t turn out exactly the way i planned :( not sure that i like it at all honestly, but i wanna put smth out for y’all and this is 13K words that i cba to rewrite so… love you.

▹— warnings: references to suicide attempt, familial loss, previous good relationship with (assumed) biological dad, blood, so much blood, murder (you kill someone), fighting, i think you could class this as dissociation/blackouts but i’m not sure (pls tell me if it’s something different), fighting, canon-typical violence, angst — please tell me if there’s more, ive been trying to keep up to date but i’ve written this fic over so many days. be mindful, this one might be kinda heavy.

▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours (if you’ve been tagged it’s because you requested to be on my general taglist! if you want your tag removed, drop me a message! <3)

masterlist

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Living in Boston QZ hadn’t been your idea. No — you never would have chosen the so-called safety of the walls, which were only filled with bad people and worse authority, but you had been left with no other choice.

Pronounced an orphan on your way to the QZ, you didn’t know what else to do. With nobody to guide you or advise you, you had gone ahead with the original plan, walking the final twenty-something miles alone, in some sort of absent state.

The journey was a blur, and so was the arrival, you only really remember seeing the green flash of the cordyceps tester, reminding you of all you had lost. Every time you closed your eyes after that, the shade of green haunted you.

They had put you up in a FEDRA school, and so you began your training to become an officer. You hated it, hated the FEDRA organisation as a whole, and hated being in Boston when the person who had wanted to be there didn’t make it.

You tried not to make a habit of sneaking out after the first time, but you couldn’t help yourself. Most days, you were so exhausted from your nightly adventures through the QZ that you got everybody into doing more drills. Not many people were a big fan of you, but that was the way you preferred it.

You liked being alone, really. Enjoyed the silence that echoed through your room, the absence of other people letting you simmer in your own feelings. Your father had always reprimanded you for wallowing in your own self-pity, but he was no longer around to do such a thing. So, you wallowed.

Between climbing out of your bedroom window, jumping across rooftops to reach a particular apartment building with an actual view outside of the wall, you spent your time disconnected from the hellscape you lived in. Everything felt so far away, so out of touch, and the only moments you blinked back to reality, you were dripping in blood. Down your face, your hands, so much of it that you didn’t know where it started or ended. Or if it was your own.

Everything coming back into focus at once was dizzying enough, and sometimes that feeling was so closely related to blood loss that you had been sure somebody must’ve stabbed you, must’ve finally managed to get past your survival instincts, must’ve brought you to your end, at last.

But then you’d wake up, blood dried, no sign of the looming figure of death in front of you. There was only one occasion where the blood must’ve been mostly your own, and that was a broken nose. You pretended not to be disappointed, each and every time. Despite everything you had done to survive, everything you still do, there was a darker part of you that hated yourself for it. That blamed you.

It was one of those times yet again, where one moment you swore you were paying attention in your FEDRA classroom, and the next you blinked, eyes opening to the sight of bloodied hands in front of you.

It was everywhere, you would swear on it, underneath your fingernails, between each digit on your hand, even dripping down your wrist. It was warm and clung to your skin, even when you wiped your hands against the jeans on your legs. You blinked again, finally moving your eyes away from your sticky hands, and you gulped down a lump in your throat at the sight in front of you.

You recognised the man — a snarky guard at FEDRA, one who always had it out for you. You could see a slither of the face that always glared over at you underneath all of the red blood.

It didn’t take much realising to know that you wouldn’t get away with this thing, that this would be something that killed you. If they found out, if, then you were dead.

You needed to know, had to be sure, if this was going to be the final thing, your final action, if you had actually killed a FEDRA guard. But despite that, despite knowing that you didn’t have another option than to look if his chest was rising and falling, you couldn’t draw your eyes in the direction. Even when you tried, your chin fell to your chest, eyes back on the hands that were cradling one another in your lap, feeling far too heavy for your arms.

With the sharp way your breath was coming into your chest, you were starting to realise that your hearing hadn’t returned with your sight, and you jumped when the realisation brought it back, a rush of sound hitting you all at once.

The distant sound of gunfire, the whirring of a generator nearby, the sound of your own hyperventilating breaths, it all echoed too loudly, far too much going on for you to comprehend it all. So much so that you missed the footsteps heading your way, missed the sound of crunching stone as somebody else stepped foot on the rooftop.

A hand against your shoulder had you rearing around, fists drawn back and pushing forward until they hit the person, hard, and the hand was immediately withdrawn. You continued forward, eyes blinking closed in a flinch as the hand grabbed your wrists, holding tight until you stopped trying to pull them away.

“Jesus Christ— Tess, get on out here!” The voice belonging to the person holding on to you yelled out, about as loudly as he dared, and you bared your teeth with clenched fists at the woman who pulled herself up from the fire escape on the apartment building.

“Jesus,” She echoed, looking between you and the FEDRA agent with raised eyebrows, a slight grimace, marring her features. She looked over at the man who was grasping your wrists in a bruising grip with a questioning gaze. “What the fuck went on here?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You spat out, tugging your arms, trying to get out of the man’s grip as you grit your teeth, your mind still reeling with everything that was going on.

He stared sternly at you, “You gonna calm down?” When you responded with a more than angered nod, he nodded, releasing your wrists and stepping away, leaning to look at the FEDRA guard still lay at your side. He kicked the guy in the side, and there was no hint of a reaction. “Dead.” He told the woman, Tess, with an odd look on his face.

“Well, shit, kid.” Tess sighed, hands on her hips as she looked at the situation before her. She shook her head with a tut, and approached to have a look at the guard herself. “What happened?”

You just continued baring your teeth, metaphorical hackles raised high, and Tess just responded with a blank look on her face, a dismissive purse to her lips as she moved her gaze over to the man.

He tilted his head, looking between you and the body, “Could’ve been anyone.” He suggested to Tess, rocking his head from side to side in something like deliberation. You stared hard at the two of them, confusion still buzzing through your head.

“Could’ve been.” She agreed.

They shared a look, communicating between only their eyes, and they had no reaction to the way your hands clenched, your head snapping between them. You didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t understand what was going on, and you had no idea who these people were. It really didn't provide any reassurance, and your eyebrows lowered over your eyes, a glare prominent on your features as Tess huffed.

“C’mon, kid.” The man said to you, offering a hand to help you up from the ground. When you stared at him, that glare on your face, he raised his eyebrows in annoyance. “It’s either you come with us, or you’re found here with him and hung. Your choice.” He told you, hand still offered out, and you grit your teeth as you took it, letting him pull you to your feet, and steady you when you stumbled, everything feeling a bit too real.

You focused on where you were going, rather than who was leading you there, as the two of them took you down the fire escape, hurrying you into an open window on the second flight down from the top. You didn’t take any notice of the bloody handprint Tess wiped away after you had managed to get yourself through the gap, instead looking for the doors.

“You can calm down, kid, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” Tess said, sounding snarky as she moved past you to their kitchen, where she helped herself to a glass of illegal alcohol. You raised your eyebrows, knowing that wasn’t a FEDRA-supplied bottle.

You huffed, watching the man look around the area before he shut the window, flicking the lock into place. “Can never be too careful.” You murmured in response.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Tess said, somewhat amused. “I mean if anybody here’s showed some aggression, that’d be you. Gonna tell us what went on up there?” She asked between careful sips from her glass, measured, or maybe, savouring sips.

At her question, your eyebrows furrowed once more, and you pulled your bloodied hands close to your chest, jaw clenched.

“No?” She asked, leaning forward with an expectant expression, and she opened her mouth to ask some more questions, say something else, but the man cut her off.

“Tess,” He warned, eyebrows raised, “Take it easy.” He glanced back to you, to the hands you held close to yourself, and frowned. With a nod of his head, clearly expecting you to follow, he headed down the hallway. You looked at Tess, hesitantly following the man as she nodded with an exasperated scoff.

He opened a door, revealing their bathroom, which had certainly seen better days. You wouldn’t exactly cheer for the bathrooms at FEDRA school, but jesus — at least it was better than what the general public got. “Head on in, clean yourself up. Don’t want anybody seein’ that on you.”

With some reluctance, you kept a hostile expression plastered on your face as you stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the tap in the sink and running your hands under it. Up until that point, you had remained ignorant to the way the blood clung to your skin, sticky and not quite cold, but now there was the opportunity to be rid of it, you became desperate.

The water helped, slightly, but not fast enough for your liking, resorting to the scraping of your dull nails against the drying blood, up until flakes of red started to melt away, colouring the water as it drained.

Their mirror was broken, and you couldn’t have been more glad. You were sure that if it had been there when you glanced up, if you had to look yourself in the face, you would be sick. You didn’t want to face the fact that all of this was real. You had just killed a FEDRA guard.

“Alright, that’s enough of that, now.” The man said, reaching into the sink and pulling your hands away from the stream of water when you ignored him. He shut the tap off, staring at you with that same strange expression, only glancing away to grab the towel that hung over the door. You took it, drying your hands hastily before you shoved it back towards him.

You were shoving past him before he could get another word out, barely even able to grab the towel as you passed it back. He blinked, a frown forming a deeper crease than usual between his brows.

“Listen, I—I really need to get back. Curfew is going to be over soon, I think.” You fumbled around the words, hurrying down the hallway you came from and spinning around in the room to try and reorient yourself. You finally saw the door you believed to be the exit, and headed towards it.

“Well, hold up,” Tess said, frowning and reaching out to you, stepping back with a slight scoff when you moved away from the reaching arms. “Daylight’s gonna break any second, you’d be better off waiting for curfew to be over with. And,” She added, tilting her head at you with a stern look, “You still haven’t told us what went on. We’re covering your ass, right now. If anything goes to shit it’ll be us keeping you safe. You realise that?”

You did realise something — and that was the kind of people you were dealing with. You’d heard from them, and not from the FEDRA teachers, but from other trainees, other students.

When the world went up in flames, FEDRA had been the first to seize onto power, and they held on to the pretence that they had never let go. But the world was still burning, and the people had begun rioting, and there was another opportunity for a power-grab. It was people like this who had taken that opportunity, who had made something of themselves in a world on fire.

You knew then that the way she had likely gotten that bottle of alcohol was through her own network. She was a manipulator, clearly, a blackmailer. She used the resources she had, and she definitely made the most of them. She wasn’t bluffing.

“So, what? I don’t tell you and you sell me out?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. Part of you wants to hear her say it, though, wants to hear the admission of being a bad person. Then again, maybe she was the good guy, you thought, after remembering the blurry image of that guard, lay still on the roof above where you stood.

Tess tilted her head, “Pretty much.”

“Well, fine. Be my guest. As much as I would love to comply with your blackmail, I couldn’t tell you. Don’t have a fucking clue what happened up there. I’d say try asking him, but…” You snarked in response, another bare of your teeth, another raising of your hackles. Tess was looking more frustrated by the moment, if the slight twitch of the skin of her brows said anything. She held herself together pretty well. If it weren’t for the stark difference between times like now and the times of blacked out memories, blurred images, you likely wouldn’t have even noticed. But it was like everything was so clear when you actually looked, and you noticed details that most people wouldn’t.

“Joel,” Tess sighed out, and even the cadence of her voice revealed the annoyance that was growing within her. “Help me out, here?” She asked, because despite every front that the man put up, he was still better with kids than she was. There was something about him, an authority, she wondered, that just made people fess up.

You looked over to the man, to Joel, to see his eyes looking at you with more recognition by the second, a pull to the frown on his lips that suggested he knew something that you didn’t. You weren’t a fan of the look.

He gritted his teeth at the whole situation, his chest aching with familiarity. Joel knew, probably better than anyone, that look in your eye. “I believe her,” Joel answered Tess, hesitantly, rolling his eyes when the two of you immediately looked at him with dumbfounded expressions. “Look, Tess is right. You’re better off sticking ‘round here ‘til curfew drops.” He told you then, his voice gruff as he leaned to look out of the window, seeing the light outside growing brighter each passing minute.

You huffed, but crossed your arms in defeat, shoulders slouching where you stood.

“But remember, you owe us.” Tess said scathingly, a crease running along her forehead before she turned away, heading down the hallway. She pretended that she didn’t hear the way you scoffed at her words.

You and Joel stood opposite each other, the room tense. He cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms so the two of you didn’t mirror each other quite so accurately, and he turned to grab his own glass of booze. “So, uh, you go to school? FEDRA?” He asked, talking over the sound of liquid being poured into his glass.

“Yeah.” You responded lamely, tapping a foot against the floorboards of their apartment, avoiding looking at the man.

“You know the guy, then?” He questioned, eyebrows raised as he turned back around to look at you.

The look you gave him was scathing, but you gritted your teeth and responded anyway, seeing no other choice. “I guess. Gives me— gave me a hard time for dumb things. Don’t know what happened last night, before you ask.” You said, correcting your words to the past tense, and your chest felt hauntingly empty, despite what you had done.

Joel shrugged at you, “Wasn’t goin’ to.” He responded, mouth set in a thin line before he took a long sip from his drink. “Get some rest, kid. Got an hour or so, yet.” He told you, seeing your exhaustion before you had even felt it, apparently.

You blinked at him, surprised. The idea was tempting, you could admit, but it didn’t feel like a good idea to go to sleep around two strangers. At any moment, they could have a change of heart. It was best to stay on guard, to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. That was the way you always played these type of things, and it worked out.

He drained his glass, shrugging at you when you didn’t move to head towards the sofa he had vaguely gestured at, and said, “Suit yourself.” Before he walked down the hallway, following Tess.

You waited there for more than a few minutes, so still, making sure you didn’t make a sound, waiting to hear when one of them would come back to keep an eye on you. You had never felt more confused when they didn’t.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ever since then, the world seemed to blur around you even more. And despite getting out in the hold at school after getting caught trying to sneak back in, it didn’t deter you, and they didn’t seem to suspect you of anything. You had heard the whispers about the dead FEDRA guard, though.

You tried not to listen.

Instead, you spent even more of your time sneaking out, but allowed that haze to fall over you with even less of a fight each time you went out. It was easier, that way, to let the world fall away and leave you with memories smudged in blood, that you certainly didn’t remember acquiring. Nothing in them was clear, and the cycle of waking up covered in blood didn’t stop.

More often than not, though, it was beginning to be your own blood. Apparently, your hazed self had become terrible at picking the battles you fought, and you’d blinked back to reality more than once when sparring at school, the jolt of pain when somebody caught an injury bringing you back faster than anything else had.

When you blinked back into reality this time, however, it was with warm blood dripping down your face, a hand gripping onto your head and keeping it upright when it began to fall to one side. You didn’t expect to see a familiar face, that was for sure.

“Joel?” You asked, incredulous, your voice slurred as you spoke through blood in your teeth.

“Well, she’s alive.” He said, not to you, barely even acknowledging your questioning tone as he glanced behind him to somebody you couldn’t see. Tess, presumably. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, kid?” He grumbled, voice gruff as he looked over your head for injuries, a grimace on his face at the amount of blood dripping down your temple.

His hand left your head a moment later, and you just about caught the weight of it before your chin could hit your chest, leaning back and settling the crown of your head against what felt like a brick wall.

A hand against your shoulder caught your attention when your eyes had been drifting closed, without you knowing they had even begun to do so, and you blinked them back open. “Jesus, how many times are we gonna have to save your ass?” Tess asked rhetorically, a grimace that matched Joel’s on her face as she looked at the state of you.

“‘M fine.” You grumbled, moving to try and push her hand away but only pulling your hand back with a hiss at the sudden throbbing pain that bloomed in your fingers.

Tess smiled sarcastically, “Yeah, sure you are. Those are broken, by the way.” She said, nodding down to the fingers on your hand which were bloodied and bruised, swollen and now so painful you had to grind your teeth together. Your knuckles were split, and you looked around, seeing no sign of a body, but you couldn’t help wondering what the other guy must look like.

You didn’t say anything else to her, just focusing on keeping your eyes open and attempting to remember whatever had happened to lead you to such a state. Nothing came up.

Even when Joel lifted your arm, hand gripping your wrist tightly as he pulled your elbow around his neck until he was holding most of your weight. He stumbled slightly when you did, and let out a gruff comment about you handling some of your own weight.

You did your best, but he ended up practically carrying you all the way back to their apartment, which was a couple of blocks. You vaguely wondered how they had even come across you, but figured you were in no place to ask questions.

“Remember what happened this time?” Tess asked, opening the door to their shared apartment so Joel could pull you through it, his arms straining to keep you upright. It was a much harder task when you were conscious but barely in control of your own limbs. He had thought about carrying you, but decided that was much too strange.

You shook your head, but realised she was facing away from you, and you hoped Joel hadn’t noticed your mistake. “Not a fucking clue.” You slurred out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as it tried to spell out the words.

Joel huffed out a breath through his nose as he set you down against their couch, his shoulders slouching as he finally relaxed his muscles, feeling a distant ache in his arm from being so tensed. He went down the hallway a second later, disappearing from your view.

“You are one lucky kid.” Tess drawled, the scene so familiar to the first time you met the two of them, as she held a glass of alcohol loosely in her hand. Distantly, you wondered if they had a glass every day, and if that meant they had shitloads of the stuff stored away somewhere, but decided you probably shouldn’t be thinking about it.

You scoffed, brows furrowed in aggravation despite the fact they had probably saved your lives. “Yeah, lucky. Sure.” You said, likely the clearest you had been able to speak since you’d woken up. Or become aware. You weren’t really sure which was more accurate.

Tess smiled, a sarcastic one that was full of humour and annoyance, “Oh, you don’t think so? Should we think about what could’ve happened if somebody else had found you there?” She asked, eyebrows raised, and you grit your teeth to stay silent.

You, better than anyone, knew what could’ve happened. You knew what people in this QZ — hell, in this world, — were capable of. So maybe you were lucky that Joel and Tess had found you, considering that they hadn’t ratted you in to FEDRA just yet, but you knew that the one thing this world would never generate is trust. They could be just as bad, or worse, as anyone else who might have discovered you there, bloody, injured, and completely unaware.

After all, you were at their apartment, with no idea why.

“She knows, Tess,” Joel grumbled, reappearing from the hallway and looking just as unhappy as ever. He sighed, drawn out and heavier than you had expected, and held up a wet cloth. “Come on, kid, get yourself cleaned up.” He handed it over to you, and ushered Tess to follow him back down the hallway, where they spoke in harshly whispered voices.

You wiped the side of your face, getting rid of the sticky blood that was coming from the side of your head. It was kind of difficult to do with no mirror, but you wiped as much of it off as you could get to before you stopped, breathing through the pain in your head, your fingers, the left side of your chest. You grimaced as you tried to wipe blood away from your split knuckles, your broken fingers. It hurt, and it was too real of a pain.

You paused when you heard Tess’s voice raise, “She’s going to get us caught, or killed, Joel!” She said, before her tone lowered once more, further discussion happening between them. You wondered what they could be talking about — they held no obligation to pick you up off of the streets. They didn’t owe you anything. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t owe them anything, either. Everything they had done was of their own volition, meaning you hadn’t forced them into anything.

For whatever reason, they felt the need to help you. You couldn’t pretend to understand it, but you did know that this couch was much more comfortable than the stones of whatever street you had been lay on were.

Joel came down the hall soon enough, a crease between his brows, and he grunted when he saw the poor job you had done of cleaning yourself up. “Get to the bathroom, kid. We’ll patch you up there.”

“Why?” You asked, before you could help yourself. They didn’t need to be doing this, so why were they? Tess was right, you were only a danger to whatever operation they had going on, so why?

“It’s either that or you carry on bleeding out on our couch.” Tess called out, rustling through something as soon as she emerged from the hallway, busying herself in drawers and cupboards.

You figured it’d be in your best interest to not bleed out on their couch.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Weirdly, it was the fourth time you ran into Joel and Tess that everything seemed to fall into place. Except this time, it was you doing just that, running into them. Or more accurately, him.

You had hit against shoulders in your fast pace, sending various people tumbling backwards or stepping out of your path. Helpful for you, yes, but also helpful for the group chasing you. You tried not to look back, but the footsteps chasing you were growing louder and you had to know how close they were.

One look over your shoulder led to you colliding with somebody, and you cursed as it sent you spilling to the floor at their side. With a scathing glare on your face, your heart going a mile a minute, you looked up to see none other than Joel fucking Miller.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” Joel murmured, eyes wide as he looked to where you had fallen after running into him. The alarm in your eyes made him move to face where you were looking, and there were three of Robert’s goons. He noticed, quickly, the knife that one of them was holding.

Without a second thought, he stepped between you and the group approaching, his hands clenching into fists as he grit his teeth. He wasn’t good at negotiating, at talking — that was more of Tess’s side of the deal. If it came to it, though, he could take on these fools. And he could play it off as if he was defending himself from the knife they were carrying, if need be.

They sputtered to a stop in front of him, a wary look exchanged between the two men, as the woman behind glared daggers at him. “Come on, Miller, move outta the way.” The man holding the knife said, tilting his head to one side as if that was going to make Joel listen to his directions.

Joel’s eyebrows set lower on his face as he looked back to you, with your wide eyes, and the way you scrambled up to stand just behind him. He huffed, a tired sigh leaving him, and turned back to the goons.

“Not happening.”

The three of them scoffed, incredulous, and the woman stepped forward with a sneer on her face. “What? You some kinda saviour now, Miller? Gonna start defending all the helpless little girls?” She said, voice venomous, but she stepped back when Joel went to move forward.

You, however, were not having that.

“Helpless?” You questioned, a scathing heat burning its way down your throat, “I’d like to see you go and ask your boss how helpless I am.”

Joel’s hand blocking your path stopped you from stepping towards the woman, your teeth bared at her, but you remained behind the man. You may not like listening to him, but he seemed to know what he was doing far more than you did.

“You bitch,” The final man said, no weapon held in his hand, but there was something dark about him that even Joel could see. Joel pushed against you, putting you further behind him as the man stepped forward. “When I—”

Joel’s eyes darkened considerably, and he knew from the expressions on the group’s faces that they had seen his face harden. “When you what?” He asked, looking down at the group before him, something violent in his words, as if daring the man to finish his sentence, to say something that Joel didn’t like, to give him the excuse.

“Can’t you just mind your own goddamn business, Miller?” The one with the knife asked, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl as he tried to catch a good look at you from around Joel’s shoulder.

“This is my goddamn business. Now run yourselves back to Robert before this gets out of hand.” Joel said, the threat in his words clear despite him having said nothing particularly violent. It was explicit in his tone, apparently. His gruff words were somewhat of a comfort to you, though, a slight relief that you could stop running, for now. You were also hoping that this meant your messed up shoulder would be your only injury of the day.

“Are you having a fucking laugh?” The woman asked, incredulous, as she stared at where Joel stood tall in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Joel asked, being met with nothing but deadly silence. You peeked around his arm to see the three of them looking like fools in front of him, their cocky, entitled attitudes falling apart under the weight of his words. The three of them shared a glance, gritted teeth and angered glares, and looked to Joel with a more than annoyed expression.

The man with no weapon caught sight of you looking around Joel, and pointed his hand at you, “Just you fucking wait.” He threatened, putting his hand down when Joel’s shoulders straightened, his legs moving to take a step towards the man, who quickly backed away alongside his two companions. They left without another word, throwing angry looks over their shoulders until they disappeared out of sight, at which point Joel turned to you.

“How is it that I always find myself savin’ your ass?” Joel asked, mostly to himself, as he looked at where you stood, a hand holding your other and close to your chest. He sighed, heavily, “You hurt?”

“I’ve been worse.” You admitted, though Joel knew better than anyone. He could see on your face that the swelling from around your black eye hadn’t long faded to almost normal, he could see the stitched cut along the back of your forearm, could see the way you winced as you attempted to shrug, give up halfway.

Joel nodded, studying you for a moment, his eyes drawn to the way your clothes had been ripped after your fall to the ground. He frowned. It was getting colder as the days went on, and he was already sceptical about the lack of layers you wore. He huffed out another sigh, a frown pinched between his eyebrows, and looked back down the street to ensure the goons hadn’t decided to come back. When the coast was clear, he turned back to you where you stood almost nervously, and he realised this was the first time he had seen you out during the day time. Every other time he had discovered you it had been the midst of the night.

“C’mon, let’s get back.” He murmured, keeping the mean look on his face in case anybody else came after you. For once, you didn’t say anything, just following along at Joel’s side, wincing every time you moved your arm.

“I remember what happened this time,” You offered, when the two of you finally reached Joel and Tess’s shared apartment, with you taking your seat on their couch with a half-repressed sigh. Your feet were aching, and your shoulder was killing, but at least you could rest here for a while.

Joel looked up from his rummaging at that, surprised by not only what you said, but the fact that you had said it at all. Each time, one of them prompted you for information, and you never remembered. Or you weren’t willing to share the small details you did recall. It was strange for you to offer such information to him. “Yeah?” He prompted absently, continuing to look through drawers after his slight pause.

“Yeah,” You answered as you raised an eyebrow at his actions, wondering what he could be searching for. Before you could lose your nerve, you continued, “Got into some stupid business with some guy called Robert, and then he tried to rip me off. I got kicked outta school trying to get what he needed, too.” You scoffed as you spoke, paying less attention to Joel’s reaction and focusing more on your annoyance at the whole situation. “I just… got angry, started hittin’ the guy. Then ran away, and they started chasing me.”

“What were you goin’ into business with him for?” Joel asked after you had finished, his eyebrows creased together. Robert had a way of getting to old world stuff, but everyone knew he was dodgy. Often times, it was double-sold, or broken. He was a scammer, and that was coming from Joel, who had upped prices to ridiculous amounts on the shit he and Tess smuggled in, per her order, of course.

You huffed, “I dunno, just wanted something. Doesn’t matter, anyway. He didn’t have it.”

“Well, you tell me what it is and I’ll see what I can do.” Joel offered, unsure as to why. He hated himself for doing this, for letting you in, for feeling some inexplicable reason to help you each time you were hurt. He couldn’t understand it. Perhaps, he could say you reminded him of someone who’s name he refused to speak, but that wasn’t right. You shared very few similarities with her, in fact, Joel would argue that you looked more like him. That lost look in your eyes, the blurred vision you saw through when he found you covered in blood, the memories lost to bloodshed… it was like looking in a mirror.

He felt some sort of responsibility towards you — as if helping you could heal his own wounds. Joel figured he should’ve known by now that something like that would never work.

Perhaps, he just wished that someone could’ve pulled him out of that state, when he was in it. He couldn’t say your reasons for being like this, hell, it could just be a product of the apocalyptic world you lived in, but he figured that one day, you’d grow to be like him. And god, he was hoping that you could avoid it. So if him helping you could do that, could steer your path away from seeing him in your reflection, he’d do it.

“I said it didn’t matter.” You responded, snappily. Clearly whatever you had been after was personal, held close to your chest. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting to reveal it.

Joel said nothing for a moment, but looked at you from where he stood across the room. “You got kicked outta school?” He asked, instead of pressing the subject. He saw a weight lift off of your shoulder at the change in topic.

“Yeah, got caught sneaking out too many times. Said I must have some place else to go, and that I’m old enough to know what the fuck I’m doing.” You said, rolling your eyes at the memory. You weren’t all too bothered about it. Learning about the world through a government’s perception wasn’t all that mind blowing, and you hated drills. You didn’t want to be a FEDRA soldier. So, in reality, it was quite the gift.

You had to think that way, too stubborn to remember how your father had always talked about you going to those kind of schools, about you getting an education that was more than him just pointing out words and teaching you basic math. He had never quite understood that you learned more from him than you would from anybody else.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched, a look that was almost concern shining through his eyes. “You’re just a kid.” He said, having no reaction to the way you glared at him.

“I can take care of myself.” You told him, firmly, trying your best not to think about how many times he and Tess had pulled you out of shit, likely saving your life. It didn’t matter. At the end of the day, all you had was yourself.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, eyebrows raised at you, as if he was proving his point by asking it, especially when you didn’t answer immediately. All orphans went to FEDRA school, until they were old enough to get sent to a position as a guard or they were kicked back out to the street. He knew you weren’t old enough to be put in that position just yet. After all, FEDRA didn’t allocate housing to people of your age.

You looked to your hand in your lap, picking at the blood still stuck underneath your nails. “Not important.”

“No?” Joel asked, just a hint away from mockingly. You furrowed your brows at him, a frown pulling at your lips in defence.

“No.” You answered.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You think now, that you would have never been in this situation if you hadn’t accepted Joel’s insistence that you stay with him and Tess. It had gotten to a point of normalcy, something so close to domestic that it had you sneaking out of their apartment, up the fire escape back to the roof where it all began to unravel, all those nights ago.

The stain of blood on the ground is still there, and you had been staring at it long enough that you were starting to miss where it began and ended. You still couldn’t pull the memories from that night from your skull, and you were starting to think they weren’t in there at all.

It had all led you to here, to where you sat, legs swinging over the edge of the air-conditioning unit on the roof of the building. Or at least, that’s what Joel told you these things were. You frowned at the memory.

You hated the way you had let all of this happen, had let yourself get closer to the people who seemed to always be there. They were more present in your life than any other figure, even before you moved in with them. It had seemed as if you only woke up from your haze when they pulled you out of it. You couldn’t begin to understand why, and honestly, you didn’t really want to.

All you knew was that this was exhausting. You had been present for the longest time you could remember since before your father had… well, since before everything changed. And it was all because there was a ball of anxiety in your chest, hammering loudly within the beat of your heart.

Maybe it was selfish, or foolish, maybe it was both, to feel so dejected over something that should be good. But it was all feeling too familial for your liking, and it was like a constant waiting game, constantly wondering when the other shoe would drop. There had to be some sort of catch, something would surely go wrong, because life with Joel and Tess was becoming too comfortable. You should’ve been happy for it. Perhaps any other kid your age would have been, but all you could think of was the time before Boston.

Images of a house, a father who cared about you, who bought you paints and brushes even when that would have been better spent on new boots for himself. You could remember the way the sole had been peeling away when you had last seen him, remember the way he had yelled at you, begged you to leave him behind.

Sure, you had listened, had walked away from him slumped against the wall of a decrepit convenience store, but you had never truly left him behind. All the times you had spent in Boston, in a subconscious state, there had been no more memories. Before Tess and Joel, the most vivid thing you could recall was your dad.

If you closed your eyes, shut out the image of the blood staining concrete, and focused hard enough, you could hear his laugh. Reluctant laughter was something you had often drawn out of him, because he found the only joy he had left in the world within you. But there was always that nagging worry, at the very back of his mind, reminding him that things weren’t okay.

Hell, the whole reason he had insisted upon leaving the house where you had spent most of your life was because he believed you would be safer in Boston, in a QZ rather than a small community with not enough firepower to cope with any hordes.

He’d been a firm man, with a furrow between his brows that you could now see in Joel’s face, and you hated it. Your dad had given up everything for you. Why were you seeing similarities between him and Joel?

“Come on, it’s time to get going!” Tess called to you, dragging you from where you were trying to conjure up an image of your dad that wasn’t his last moments. You huffed, pushing off of the air conditioning unit, and headed down the fire escape, taking your backpack from Tess where she held it out to you.

It hadn’t been your choice to go along with Joel and Tess, more of an order, given that they didn’t want to leave you alone at their apartment. They were running low on ration cards, not enough for you to survive alone, especially if anything went wrong. That was the whole purpose of their trip, they had told you, to get something they could trade for more cards. The two of them hadn’t explained to you the radio and music catalogue that sat in their apartment, but you had figured out that it must’ve been some sort of communication system. If you were going to go off of the way Joel’s head had snapped up when some song you didn’t recognise came on.

The three of you were setting off the next day, so it must’ve meant something to them.

Joel had said something about you being in for some kind of treat, assuring you that the trip would be worth it, despite the way you remained unconvinced. You didn't want to leave the QZ again, but part of you, that stupid childish part, was curious.

So you followed them.

You were quiet most of the trip, despite Joel trying to encourage conversation with you, a crease of concern to his face the more checked out you became.

In your own defence, you seemed to be on guard well enough when you retreated to that state where it wasn’t really you, and the whole trip was too familiar. If you didn’t focus hard enough on your surroundings, you would wake up and be with your father again, or you’d lack attention and hear that gunshot as you walked away.

It was easier this way. Safer.

You also didn’t expect for Joel or Tess to notice anything different, but then you were blinking back into reality some time later, though you couldn’t tell how much. Joel’s face was in front of your own, his eyebrows furrowed, expression angrier than you had seen it in a while.

Looking around the area, over Joel’s shoulder, you saw a burning building some ways behind him, and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “What happened there?” You asked, your throat sore as you said it, your chest aching, and you were more confused than anything else at the sensation.

“What were you thinking?” Joel seethed, seemingly becoming angrier at your question, and you tried not to pay the emotion any mind. You looked around again, squinting your eyes and catching sight of Tess stood before the building, her gun raised to the doorway as if expecting something to come out of the blaze. “Huh?” He questioned, drawing your attention back.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, getting more confused by the second. You looked down to where your fingers were apparently covered in soot, and slowly connected that with the burning building across the way. “Wait, did I—”

“You can’t check out like that! You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Joel said, and you felt his hand squeeze your shoulder far more gently than the way he was speaking. He seemed… frantic, almost. You frowned, because nobody had ever really noticed you blanking out before, or at least, nobody had ever said anything to you about it.

Your awareness came back to you fully then, and you could feel the heat from the fire even all the way over here, so you couldn’t imagine the heat Tess was feeling. With a huffed breath, you pulled yourself to your feet, shrugging Joel’s hand off when he tried to help you as you stumbled slightly. Your bag felt lighter than it had before, but at least you still had it.

Joel grumbled, his hard expression unchanging as he turned away from you to go and grab Tess, nodding at you to follow them as you hurried away from the burning building, blinking as you tried to remember what had happened.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Arriving at Bill and Frank’s compound was… overwhelming. Which was probably the biggest understatement ever.

Tess and Joel didn’t think it pertinent to tell you where you were headed before leaving Boston, and you weren’t all that well versed in where smugglers got their items to smuggle. You figured it would be some run down place, that was mostly untouched by the outbreak.

You didn’t expect this.

Initially, it reminded you of the small community you had lived in with your father, all that time ago. Though this place was guarded much better, with that electric fence that Joel warned you away from. The houses looked good, and there was one down the street, with a wide porch and old kids toys piled in the garden, which made your heart clench.

You wanted to retreat back into yourself, to hide in that haze, to let the blanket of emptiness cover you, but then Frank was emerging from the doorway of their house, his grip tight on a walking stick, but his smile was wide. He was tailed by Bill, whose hands hovered hesitantly as he followed Frank.

“Tess! Joel!” Frank called, and held his arms out for Tess when she approached, sharing a hug like they were family. You were pretty sure that they were just friends, had no connection before the outbreak. It was strange, really, to think of hugging someone that wasn’t a relation. Or perhaps it was the caring part of it that had your brows creased. “And who’s this?” He asked, smiling at you.

With a nod from Joel, you introduced yourself to the man, trying not to shrink into yourself at his cheerful demeanour, and the suspicious glances of Bill from beside him.

“Bill, it’s fine,” Frank sighed, a roll of his eyes as he turned to the man. “Go get started on dinner! We’re going to sit out here, while the weather is nice.”

Bill grumbled, eyes darting between the three of you and the man he loved, but he turned with a resigned sigh. Frank grinned, a fond look on his face.

Tess busied herself setting the table, ignoring the way Frank scolded her for doing his job, only shooting him an exasperated smile. After a moment, Frank realised there were only four chairs set around the small garden table.

“Oh, I think there’s another in my art room.” He said, as he looked between you and the four chairs.

Unable to help yourself, “You have an art room?” You asked, which was probably the most you had spoken for the past few days. You ignored the way Joel seemed to perk up at your words, a glance going between him and Tess.

Frank smiled. He seemed to do a lot of that. “You wanna have a look?” He asked kindly, nodding his head and starting towards the house.

“Go on.” Joel encouraged with his monotone murmur. You hesitantly followed Frank into the house.

You didn’t look around much, instead opting to focus on keeping close to the man in front of you. If you looked to closely, you think you might see similarities to the home you had with your dad, and after already shutting down once on this journey, you figured that Joel wouldn’t be too pleased if you did it again.

It was wracking your nerves, the closer you got to Frank’s art room. You wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, not even your father, had he been here, but you were scared. You had gotten so good at removing yourself from a multitude of situations, but the concept of art had you grounded in place no matter how much you might have wanted to fade back into your mind. You can remember nights spent staying up late, dipping brushes in colours that resembled the world around you almost too accurately. The gentle swipe of paint across paper, canvas, walls, wood — whatever your father could give you, at the time.

It was the best thing you had.

You realise, now, that you had been escaping from the world for your whole life. Only back then, it had been to nicer lands, beauty put down on different mediums so you could physically touch it, could know it was true, it was real. The only thing that had changed was your method of escaping, really. Where you had once clambered for colours and depictions of the world in a different light, you now escaped to the very depths of your mind, hidden deep under sadness and fear and loneliness. Somewhere that you couldn’t be disturbed, wouldn’t have to think about the world and what it had taken from you.

You’re scared of wanting that old method of escape back.

When you enter the art room, you know your fear is valid. You know that the longing you have for paints and pencils and whatever supplies your father could get his hands on was back, or perhaps it was just the longing for your father returning full force from where you had buried it. Whatever it might have been, it was overwhelming.

It made everything feel like it meant more. Like the careful brushes of meticulously selected colours on white canvases was personal to you.

Frank’s art was covering the entire room, a stack of empty canvases in one corner, dwarfed by the amount of wooden frames that had sketched or painted pictures stretched over them. It was bright in here, the colours seemingly glowing from the light that was shining through the large windows, looking out on parts of the garden.

“This one isn’t finished,” Frank said, his voice quiet, and you looked to where you had forgotten he was standing. He leant heavily on his walking stick, gesturing with his free hand toward a canvas stood upon an easel — the first easel you had seen. When your dad first encouraged your interest in art, he had told you all about what his time in art class at school had been like. He’d told you about the easels, the shitty school paints — which were heavenly compared to what yours had been like — and his own art teacher. But easels weren’t the most common thing, and so you had never used one.

The painting that stood upon the strange-looking three legged stand looked like the beginnings of Bill’s face, blue eyes surrounded by carefully mixed colours to bring about the contours of the man’s skin. It was much better than anything you had ever painted.

“Have you ever painted?” Frank asked, after a few moments of hesitation. He’d lived in the apocalyptic world, too, but he hadn’t grown up in it. The man had more awareness than you expected, given his presence in such a protected home, but you supposed that if he knew Tess and Joel, it made sense that he would be sensitive of the world’s horrors.

You looked at the paintbrushes set out to dry beside an open window, and quickly drew your gaze away. “Yeah,” You responded, voice uncharacteristically gentle. You cleared your throat, annoyed at your own involuntary vulnerability. “My dad used to get paints, before I got to Boston.”

If Frank noticed your choice of pronoun ‘I’ and not ‘we’, he didn’t comment on it. He let your words settle for a moment, and you realised this was probably the most open you had been, the most you had spoken of your life before Boston. It was almost… sad. You think your dad would’ve loved Bill and Frank’s home, and the knowledge that nobody else would ever be able to consider what he would like was a painful admission.

“Well, I’m sure you could take some back with you.” Frank offered, a gentle smile on his face. He seemed to know more than he let on, even when your words were limited and he didn’t know you, hadn’t even met you before today.

You tried to brush your discomfort away, tried to unwind the stiffness to your shoulders. “That’s okay.” You said, fiddling with a button on your jacket as you took one more glance around the room, an uncomfortable tightening in your throat. “We’d better get back.” You prompted, walking to the chair in front of the easel and picking it up, gesturing for Frank to lead the way back to the garden.

“You alright?” Joel asked quietly as you set the chair down by his side, taking a seat in it a moment after as Frank and Tess began chatting away.

“I’m fine.” You snapped.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was on the way back from Bill and Frank’s that everything seemed to go wrong. For this portion of the journey, you made sure to cling on to every slither of awareness you had, digging your claws into consciousness and not letting go. You wouldn’t admit it, but the whole situation on the way there had shaken you.

You supposed it was different to the way blanking out in the QZ had been. After all, there was a certain amount of control in the QZ, much less of a wild factor than there was in the outside world. You could anticipate everything that you might come into contact with at the QZ, and each time, nothing was scary enough for you to even consider holding on to consciousness. Out in the real world, that was very different.

Despite travelling in it to the Quarantine Zone, there wasn’t a whole lot of that you could remember after the incident with your father. Everything was unpredictable, out here, and you were foolish to forget that. Especially after what it cost you the first time.

There may have been something else, though, something that had your fingers grasping onto reality so tightly you didn’t think you would ever let go. And that was the fact that it wasn’t just yourself that you were putting in danger, anymore, but Tess and Joel, too. And would you ever be able to forgive yourself if you came to awareness, just to see their blood on your hands? To find their bodies lay still? To be at fault once again for killing the only people left in the world that would see you safe? You could pretty confidently say no, you would never be able to forgive such a thing.

Even with your best attempts to cling on to your own awareness, it was clear that Joel and Tess didn’t quite trust your efforts. Given the fact that they refused to let you take a watch when night fell early, stopping to wait the darkness out just over halfway back to the Zone. Tess had already taken first watch, shaking Joel awake despite your offer to watch the area for him, so it was just you and Joel, Tess’s breaths long-since evened out.

“You can get some rest, y’know.” Joel said, his voice low to avoid waking Tess. You were well aware that she was a light sleeper, though you couldn’t blame her. It was the apocalypse, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like you were able to catch much sleep, too hyper focused on staying present to drift even into slumber, fearing you wouldn’t become conscious afterwards, fearing you would just wake.

“‘M fine, Joel.” You grumbled in response, eyes flitting around the rustling grass surrounding you, as if something was going to jump out at any moment.

Joel huffed, something between exasperation and vague amusement in it, and shook his head. “Sure, you are, kid.” He responded, adjusting his grip on the gun and resigning himself to the fact that you were going to stay up, no matter what he said. “Not gonna let anythin’ hurt you, you do know that, right?” He asked, after a long pause, and ignored the unpleasant way your face twisted.

“Why do you two help me? I don’t get it. Not done anything to help you, so why?” You questioned, instead of answering his question, too desperate to know to avoid the opening in the conversation. Joel sighed, a roll of his eyes, a deflection, as always.

“So impossible to believe that we could just be good people?” Joel replied, after your expectant silence lingered on uncomfortably. He shuffled, pausing when Tess moved, but only turned in her sleep.

You huffed, and Joel tried to ignore the way he was sure it sounded just like him. “Yes, it is impossible to believe that. You found me after I…” You paused, unsure how to go about admitting something you didn’t even remember. “After that FEDRA guard. Good people wouldn’t help me, after seeing that.”

“Been in your shoes, kid.” Joel said, at last, and you furrowed your brows at his answer. And the nickname he had taken to calling you. Joel didn’t exactly want to talk about it, both for the unpleasantness he had experienced and the worry that you’d retreat if he was honest. He could barely even explain the why to himself, so he had no idea how he could formulate it into words to tell you. “Not a good place to be, even worse if you’re alone.” He admitted, though he hadn’t been alone for as long as he could remember. There had always been Tommy, and after Tommy there was Sarah, and then his brother returned, but even then — he had Tess. But despite all that company, Joel knew exactly how it felt to be isolated, to be alone in your situation, to feel no other option than to retreat into yourself to get through the day.

He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, let alone you.

You wanted to deny it, to tell Joel that you weren’t alone. That you already had a family you loved, that you already had a dad who cared about you, but what could you say? The truth was, he was gone.

“Get some sleep.” Joel said, dismissing the conversation before you could figure out anything to say. You just frowned at him, staring at him like his expression held all the answers, but as always, Joel revealed nothing. No reasoning, no answers, nothing. Finally, you turned away from him, resting your head against your backpack, eyes remaining open so you could keep an eye on the forest ahead of you for the last few hours of the night.

When the light finally a swept the last of the darkness away, the three of you set off again. Now, you were at the final stretch of your journey — so close to the QZ you could almost smell the pungent scent of fire and unrest. You never thought you’d be glad to see the decimated land around the Boston zone, but here you were, five steps ahead of Tess and Joel, who shared secret glances, communicating in a language you couldn’t understand.

They joined your side when you paused, waiting for them, just along the edge of where FEDRA usually patrolled. You looked to the two adults expectantly, not sure where you’d be entering the Zone, and figuring you must’ve been out of it if they had ever actually told you that part.

Now this, this was where it all went downhill.

“On your knees.” A voice from behind the three of you said, and you recognised the sound of a familiar FEDRA officer, from your time spent as a trainee. You just hoped he wouldn’t remember you. “I said, get on your knees!” He repeated, when the three of you had hesitated a moment too long, stepping forward and jabbing the end of his gun into the back of your knee. You grit your teeth as your knees buckled from the hit, dropping to the ground with your hands raised. You watched Joel and Tess follow when the guard moved towards them. Joel’s jaw was clenched.

“We’re just lookin’ to get to the QZ, man, that’s all.” Tess said, keeping her hands in the air and her head tilted as she tried to negotiate, as usual.

“Just a precaution, ma’am.” The guard responded, a snark to his voice. Despite what he said, when you first arrived to the QZ, there was no precautions this far out. In fact, it was only when you stalked towards the gate that guns were trained on you, your wrists bound until they got you through the main gate to test you.

He was patting down Tess, and you would’ve sworn you could hear Joel grinding his teeth together, clenching his jaw shut so tightly you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had broken. Meanwhile, you focused on trying to remember the name of the guard, trying to recall his temperament, whether he was easily swayed. You blinked your eyes shut, trying to see through the haze that clouded your memories as the guy moved on to Joel, but without seeing the guy’s face, it was too difficult.

“What kinda QZ has precautions this far out?” Joel grumbled as the guard moved along, checking the distance towards the gate with squinted eyes, and trying his best not to clench his fists as the guard moved towards you.

“You born yesterday, man? World’s fucked.” The guard answered, stepping away from you and moving to go around to see the front of the three of you. “Well, I never.�� He chuckled, catching sight of your face as it fell, finally putting the voice to the face as you looked at him. “Don’t recall seeing your name on the exist list, trainee.” FEDRA had a bunch of awful guards, but this guy… Jerry, you were pretty fucking sure, was amongst the worst of them.

“Not a trainee, anymore.” You bit out in response, practically feeling the two adults beside you tensing up at the FEDRA guard’s recognition of you. “You even know my name, Jerry?” You asked, tilting your head upwards with your best reinvention of the careless expression that used to rile the man up so much.

He smiled, a grin full of rotten teeth and breath that stung your eyes as he leaned towards you. You resisted the urge to throw up over his shoes as he said your name, proving your hopeful taunt incorrect.

“Alright, now, no need for trouble.” Joel said placatingly, trying to keep the grimace off of his face in exchange for a more… reasonable expression. “We ain’t Infected, just a couple of folks tryin’ to be on their way.”

“Shut your mouth, and mind your business, fella.” Jerry spat towards Joel, before he looked back to you, a grin on that ugly face. “I’ve been trying to get the dirt to have you hung for months, now. Unauthorised exit? Well, that ought’a do it.” He said, morbid amusement dancing across his face. You just bared your teeth at him, a sarcastic expression donning your features.

“Careful, Jerry. You’re soundin’ awfully obsessed. Didn’t they out you for that, once already?” You asked, sarcastically, recalling the way he had been shamed outright by a higher up for getting on the trainee’s cases too much. FEDRA was strict already, so if he was getting publicly scolded for his obsessive behaviour, you figured it must’ve been bad.

You saw the way Joel was tensed up out of the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare turn to look at him, or even attempt to see how Tess was fairing.

It was when Jerry reared back, his rotten teeth bared, a sneer pulling at his features, that you saw Joel move. He’d noticed a second before you did, the way that the FEDRA guard was reaching for his smaller weapon, his handgun, barely getting it out of the holster before Joel was launching up and forwards, pushing Jerry and falling alongside him as they rolled down the slight slope to go towards the QZ gate.

“Joel!” Tess yelled out, a curse falling from her lips as she grabbed the stuff that Jerry had been attempting to confiscate before realising who you were. She dug through her bag, looking for her own gun, too risky to have it on her person this close to the QZ for this goddamn reason. You glanced between her searching frantically and the duo fighting slightly below you, before you caught a glint of metal in one of their hands. Did Joel have a knife? Did he have a knife, or was that Jerry’s? Was Jerry about to fucking stab Joel, who had tackled him to protect you?

You stumbled down the slight decline after the two of them, just as Jerry was catching the upper hand, something red trickling down his sleeve. You pulled the very gun he had tried to pull on you from its holster at his side, before he could even react to you having moved from where you were. He was slow, this guy, but that didn’t mean he was incapable. He was freakishly strong, and he bared bloody teeth at you as he moved to swing the blade in his hands down.

A crack interrupted his movements, blood dancing a crimson path down the side of his forehead.

Jerry’s body slumped backwards, falling away from where he had been about to fucking kill Joel Miller, all for what? His helmet made a dull thunk against the ground as it connected, and Joel was groaning, shoving the deadweight off of him with a bit of a struggle.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Tess asked, grasping onto Joel’s shoulders to help him up, only for him to hiss and pull away, and you vaguely saw Tess’s hand covered in a sticky sheen of blood that had leaked through the material of Joel’s jacket. “Jesus, Joel, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” She scolded, pulling the jacket away and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt to look at the wound. She dug through her bag to pull a few rags out of it, pressing the material against the fucking stab wound, and waiting for Joel’s steady hand to take over before she moved away. “Come on, we can’t wait around. If they’re patrolling this far out, something must’ve gone down, and I doubt anyone’s far enough to have not heard that.” She said, nodding pointedly towards the gun gripped tightly in your fingers.

At her reminder, you shivered, taking the knife from Jerry’s limp hand and replacing it with the gun. You wiped the blood — Joel’s blood — off of the blade onto the side of your jacket, before shoving it back in its place on Jerry’s vest, which you hadn’t even realised was there. You wondered if Joel knew, before he decided to attack him.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You blinked, and realised you were already back at the apartment you stayed in with Joel and Tess.

Joel was sat at the table, med kit set out open in front of him, with Tess being nowhere in sight. He barely spared you a glance as you stood up from the sofa you didn’t remember sitting on, your brows furrowed as you looked around the room, as if the answers—the memories—you wanted would be revealed.

“She went to trade what we managed to get from Bill and Frank’s.” Joel told you, not even looking in your direction as he focused on fixing himself up. He had the rag in his hand once again, wiping at the blood still trickling from his wound. You wondered if Tess didn’t tell you where she was going, or if Joel just knew you weren’t present if she did.

You didn’t even know what had sent you back to the depths of your mind, this time. Was it shooting Jerry? Killing somebody whilst actually being fully responsible for your actions? Was it his threats about getting you hung? Or was it that very wound that Joel was tending to right now? The fact that once again, somebody got hurt, and it was your fault?

“Can you hand me the, uh…” Joel trailed off, gesturing over towards the counter where amber liquid sat in a glass bottle. You went over and grabbed it, placing it down on the table in front of Joel far harsher than you realised you were going to. You hadn’t quite noticed the way anger, or something defensive at least, had settled in your chest, stirring that brimming pot of guilt until it was almost flowing over the edges. “Thanks.” Joel said gruffly, splashing some of the booze onto the rag and pressing it to his shoulder.

You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, to explain himself, but he made no move to do so.

“What is wrong with you?” You said, finally, your voice loud and echoing around the barely furnished room, like it had burst from your chest, like you had no choice in the matter.

“Got stabbed, in case you didn’t notice.” Joel quipped, which seemed even further out of character for him. You vaguely wondered if you had just lost your mind, if this was all some made up scenario playing out in your head.

“Why did you attack him? He didn’t attack you, I—I don’t understand!” You told him, gritting your teeth when Joel just continued tending to his wound, not acknowledging your questioning. Part of you wished Tess was here so she could dismiss you before you could continue, but she was clearly nowhere nearby, given that she hadn’t burst into the room to stop any conflict. “Joel, answer me.”

He finally looked up, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, huh? Somebody’s gotta protect you! Lord knows you don’t do it yourself! Rilin’ that guard up— it was reckless. He could’ve killed you, kid, and what would I have done then?” Joel questioned, his voice louder than your own, a booming thing that had you wanting to retreat. You refused, pushing it down in favour of the confrontation that you’d been putting off for months, by now.

“I can take care of myself.” You answered, spitting the words out like there was a semblance of truth to them. “I’m not your goddamn kid, Joel, there are plenty of other strays you could help out if I had died.” You continued, throwing the nickname back in his face, watching the way he recoiled, something unfamiliar flashing in his eyes.

“Now, you listen—”

He tried to say, only to be interrupted by you continuing on. “No! You’re not my dad, Joel! I already had a dad, okay? I had a dad, and he’s dead, and that’s on me. I won’t go through that again. You gotta stop puttin’ your life on the line for me!”

“Kid…” Joel trailed, the confession not exactly surprising him, but he felt a twinge in his chest nonetheless. He had figured all of this was catalysed by some kind of loss, just going by his own experience with the matter, but he had never known for sure. You were closed off — another way you were just so similar to him, and you’d never spoken about any family.

You closed your eyes, tears brimming in the edges, slipping down your face, and you wiped them away with a rough swipe of your sleeve against your skin. “You don’t understand. It was my fault. If it weren’t for me, he’d—… Every day I’ve been here, I’ve just been wishing we could’ve swapped places, wishing that he was here instead of me, because I can’t do this without my dad. But—But he could’ve, without me.”

“When my Sarah died,” Joel started, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest that just her name brought. “I gave up. I—I lost any will to live, I prayed that it wasn’t real, prayed for God to switch our places, to trade her life for mine. Tried to end it, and when that failed, I got numb. Got lost in my head, ended up fightin’ anybody I crossed paths with, usin’ any excuse to hurt people, even while I was with Tess. Barely even remember it,” Joel continued, a strained laugh falling from his lips, his hand held to his chest in hopes of soothing some of the ache that originated there. “Just remember wakin’ up, covered in—in blood, not knowing who the hell I hurt. So, when I saw you, not even present in your own goddamn head, I figured that wherever you came from, whatever family you might’ve had, they wouldn’t want you ending up like me.”

That pot of guilt in your chest felt like it would explode, even as you blinked back tears, only getting harder the longer Joel spoke, the more he told you. You had never taken him for a religious man, but you supposed you could relate to that, that desperation to just save your family’s life.

“I’ve got too much blood on my hands, kid,” Joel told you, the words going past the literal sense of his own blood, spilled across his palms from that wound that you had caused. It was deeper than that, it was something you related to, like he knew that sensation of fresh blood that plagued you, like it was dripping over your hands all the time. “You gotta wipe yours clean.”

Clearly, that wound on his shoulder wasn’t his only open one. It was there, gaping in his chest, weeping waves of guilt and suffering that hit you with such familiarity. My Sarah. You couldn’t help but think about your dad, couldn’t help wondering if this was how he’d feel, if your places had of swapped.

“He was my dad,” You said desperately, like it could explain everything, like the simple statement could convey everything you couldn’t put into other words. That’s not something you can replace, something you can change, something you can forget. You opened your mouth to continue, but all that happened was the tears stinging your eyes fell, and you turned your head to the side, hoping Joel wouldn’t see the way your lip was trembling.

Joel’s arms were warm when he wrapped them around you, blood still tacky on his shirt where it pressed to your jacket, but you barely noticed it. “She was my daughter.” He said in response, and suddenly it made sense.

If anything about your relationship with Joel was true, it was that you were mirror images. Reflections. Two sides of the same coin, two sides of the same story, one that told of grief and loss and pain that would never go away. His response was the answer you didn’t even realise you had been waiting for. He was my dad, and she was my daughter. Not replacements, not something to try and fill the gaps. The acknowledgment was everything you needed to wrap your arms around Joel, to squeeze his shirt between your fists and cry, to cry for the dad that you lost, for the daughter he lost, for everything the two of you would never have again.

You weren’t Joel’s daughter, and he wasn’t your dad.

That much was true, and you knew it, because you had each other. And maybe, come morning, you would still leave the apartment like you had been considering doing all along, or maybe you would stay. Maybe, you’d let yourself have this, this little family made up of torn apart pieces, of members too damaged to fit just right, of a dad who lost his daughter, and a daughter who lost her dad.

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee @0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid )

[paigebueckersmommy]

nobody gets me - p.b

“how am i supposed to tell you I don’t wanna see you with anyone but me?”

paige bueckers x uconn wbb player

warnings: situationship, eating out, public sex

the season was coming to an end, and the team decided to go out to a sza concert, but there was one problem. there had been tension between you and paige ever since last year when the entire team was going out except you two due to a exam. you two had a deep conversation that night, and ever since that you two were inseparable.

six months earlier

you and paige were driving with the windows down, it was sunny. you two were best friends, and blasting your favorite song. Nobody gets me by sza. you guys were close to your destination, scream singing while you quietly admitted the way paige’s fingers gripped the steering wheel while her blonde hair flowed in the wind.

paige parked her car in the parking lot, sza int eh background. “how am i supposed to tell you i don’t wanna see you with anyone else?” you heard and thought of paige. she had finished parking, looking you in the eyes. the song ended, and the silence began. you looked at paige’s stunning face, when you caught a glimpse of her pink lips you only had one thought.

she started her face toward yours, her hand cupping your face, as her lips touched yours. a blaze of ecstacy flowing through you, only caring about paige in that moment. you pulled your face away from hers , “i-i’m sorry i didn’t know what i was thinking, uh let’s just go in.” ” you says flustered as you reaches for your door. she pull your shoulder tward you. “hey, don’t be sorry. i liked it.” she said with a smile, causing you to smile back.

end of flashback

ever since than you felt like paige chose when and when not you guys were more than friends. you two had never gone farther than making out on her bed, though the tension on and off the court was almost unbearable. some of your other teammates had noticed it too, and your fans noticed how easily you communicated on the court.

your team was all wearing cute outfits, in line to get our tickets checked for the concert. paige was conversing with other girls on the team in front of you, you doing the same. when your eye caught paige’s, she stopped talking to ice. she smiled a sweet smile that made you forget what you were talking to ines about.

when you had all got wristbands, you found your seats and while everyone had figured who they wanted to sit by, you ended up next to paige. you smiled, “hi paige” you said sitting down next to her. “heyy are you excited?” paige said smiling at you. “yea.” you say smiling back at her knowing you would have to hear your guys’ song in front of your team and have to act normal.

you guys had been screaming the whole concert, having the time of your lives. but when sza started singing nobody gets me, your mind flooded with memories of the past year. you were close with nika, so when the song came she nudged you and smiled bruce’s she knew how confusing you had been by paige’s actions, or the things she hadn’t taken action on.

everytime you talked to paige you felt like there was tension, sexual tension between you. you were still screaming, “how am i supposed to tell you i don’t wanna see you with anyone but me” when in the corner of your eye, you saw the blonde staring you down intensely. she smiled at the way you stopped singing and looked her. “bathroom?” you read her lips as it was extremely loud around you.

you nod as you take the hand she reached out, following her down stairs and past merch stands. it was nearly the end of her set, so little to no people in the bathroom. paige smiled as she led you to the big stall. paige locks the stall door, hand resting on your hip.

paige started kissing you, your tongue grazing her lip as she allowed it in opening her mouth slightly. paige lifts herself onto the small counter for personal belongings, still kissing you, you remove her tanktop.

you start to remove her black cargo pants, as paige moans into your kiss. when her pants are fully off, you press a finger to her clothes clit causing her to gasp. “please,” paige breathes out as you contained to tease her clothes cunt.

you finally place your face between her legs, moving her panties to the side as your tongue immediately went to work on her throbbing cunt. “shit,” paige said through deep moans. your free hand found her clit and began rubbing small circles causing paige to moan. “fuck baby,” you tongue still prodding at her entrance when her legs began to shake as your tongue explored.

“fuck right there i’m close,” paige said as she threw her head back through pleasure. “shit i’m cumming” paige said as she watched herself release over your mouth, her slick coating your tongue.

you stand up, wiping her juices off your chin and kiss her as page still catches her breath.

[whiskersz]

Heyy! I hope you're having a good day. My fav hazbin character is Husk. Could you please do a ficlet where he and the reader have feelings for each other but are both nervous to admit it. Husk is having a bad day and maybe really stressed and the reader tries to comfort him? Maybe says something like "you're always a great listener for everyone one else, but you need someone to listen to you too". Lots of comfort, fluff, confessions, and love please! ♡♡ my heart aches for this sweet grumpy kitty!

Hey to you! This turned out a bit long, and maybe I did rush the end because I'm just...still not used to writing short fics, ahah. But hey, it's finished and I hope you enjoy it at least a bit!

Text divider by : cafekitsune

Husk x Reader - We found love in Hell

“I’m back!”

You announced, closing the entrance door of the Hotel behind you. You had gone out to run a few errands earlier in the day, and now that it was night the only thing on your mind was lying in bed and falling asleep.

Angel, already back from work and concentrated on his phone, waved at you tiredly; you decided to sit next to him on the couch after shooting a smile at Husk, who seemed grumpier than usual.

Albeit a bit lazily, you and Angel Dust started chatting for a bit, telling each other about how your day went and what you did. When the topic of the other residents of the Hotel came up, the spider demon lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I’ve got to say toots; Whiskers over there is in a bad mood today.” He revealed to you, making you perk up immediately.

“Oh, I did notice he didn’t seem up to a conversation, that’s why I didn’t bother him...” your gaze fell on his figure, all you could see was his back; he seemed to be busying himself with something. “You know if anything happened?”

Angel shrugged, then smirked at you slyly.

“Not sure, but I know of a few things you could try to cheer him up.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully before shaking your head.

“No thanks, I’ll pass. I’ll talk to him though, thank you for telling me.”

Angel knew very well of you and Husk’s crushes on each other, so he didn’t mind playing matchmaker sometimes. He guessed the best thing to do would’ve been to leave the two of you alone, so he stretched a bit before getting up and announcing that he was off to bed.

You told him goodnight, while Husk simply gave him a nod.

In all honesty, you felt a little bad going up to him for conversation now that you knew he wasn’t in the best mood, but you still did so in hopes of comforting him at least a little. When you sat at the counter, he finally turned around.

“Good evening Husk, how are you?” you faked ignorance and asked, resting your face on your hand. He fluttered his wings and nodded at you as a greeting, putting aside the cloth he had been using to clean the sink.

“Can’t complain. How about you? Want me to pour you somethin’?” he asked despite looking particularly beat, as Angel had warned you.

You shook your head.

“No, just wanted to, y’know... talk to you for a bit before going to bed. Are you sure you’re okay?” your warm smile admittedly made his cheek flush. He was glad that his fur could cover that up at least partially.

Concentrating on your question though, he gave you a deep sigh.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a couple things on my mind today, but who doesn’t go through that.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair; it was your turn to blush.

However you weren’t a fan of how vague he was being. You sighed, which made him turn towards you once again.

“It is common I guess. But even this morning you seemed troubled, so you know...you always listen to others, but it’s fine if sometimes you need to be listened to, too.”

Husk wasn’t one to have big reactions but, having been close for some time, you did notice his eyebrows raising a little at your statement. Still, you hoped he’d say something. When he didn’t, you continued to fill the silence.

“...Not to push you, of course. Maybe you want distractions, I can talk about my day or something...just, let me know how I can help now that I’m here, yeah?”

He took a deep breath, then leaned on the bar’s counter so he could be closer to you, copying your position with his head resting on his hand.

“Ya worry too much, really, I’m fine. Just had way too many interactions with...” he let out a sigh; Alastor, you guessed. It wasn’t surprising that he would be distraught after interacting with the demon he had lost his soul to.

He was pretty vague in his explanations of what happened too, but if he didn’t want to go too in depth about how he felt you were going to respect that. Eventually, the two of you noticed that it was getting late, so you decided to turn off the big lights in favour of smaller, dimmer ones that set a cosy atmosphere.

You sat comfortably on the couch, legs crossed as you listened to Husk speak about a lighter topic now; how everyone had been asking to mix way too complicated cocktails lately while he was already in a bad mood. You knew this wasn’t aimed at you as you either always asked for the same one or didn’t even order one at all, too busy dealing with errands for Charlie or yourself.

“...Thanks for listenin’, by the way.” He said suddenly, and you smiled at him.

“It’s not a problem, that’s what...friends are for.” You said hesitantly.

“Yeah, I s’ppose.”

Friends, you both thought, unbeknownst to each other. You and Husk had been friends for a while, always relying on each other when things got bad. Always managed to break through each other’s walls and get the other to talk about their deepest troubles.

It was clear to everyone at the Hotel that you two were very close, and saw the other in a very positive light, one that outshined the definition of ‘friend’; there was something more that you both wanted, but were too scared, perhaps because of past experiences, to go through with.

“Been a while since I sat with someone to talk about something until late at night.” Husk confessed, breaking your train of thoughts.

“It’s just because it’s me, I bet.” You said jokingly, yet boldly. He chuckled.

“Usually it’s the other way around. They talk, I listen. Feels nice to be listened to.”

Even though you were the listener in this case, he made sure to make you feel appreciated by basically confessing that there was nobody else he’d open up to. You admittedly felt too tired to conjure any insightful thought or answer, so you simply leaned against him; the sudden contact made his ears perk up, but he slowly got comfortable with it and cuddled closer to you himself.

“I’ll always listen to you, Husk.”

“I thought I lost the ability to love long ago;” you thought he was about to start another rant, so you slightly looked up at him to let him know he had your full attention; “Turns out my old heart was jus’ waiting for you to come along.” He finished, looking away.

You felt his wing tentatively reach to hug your side, so you shifted a bit to allow it to. It was warm, comfortable. Exactly how you felt around Husk.

Registering his words, the blush on your cheeks spread. This was his own way of confessing to you.

“I love you, too.” He let his head rest on the top of yours as you muttered those words nervously, as if it was a gesture meant to comfort you.

The next morning, Charlie had to contain a squeal as her and the rest of the residents of the Hotel found you cuddled up next to each other on the cough, sleeping soundly, wrapped in Husk’s wings as if they were a blanket.

[thankskenpenders]

I'm a huge fan of Ian, but one criticism of him that I've seen that I kind of agree with is that he sometimes falls into "look how much I know about Sonic" in his writing. For example, a number of references in Frontiers like Tails namedropping Dark Gaia out of nowhere. It's a nice change of pace from Sega not knowing where they wanted to go with Sonic for like a decade, but it might be too far in the opposite direction. What do you think?

There's definitely a thin line between Ian's love of references and lore and lyric quotes being fun and grating, yeah. I think he tends to do it well, choosing things that will support and enhance the story he's trying to tell rather than just dropping random references for the sake of it, but sometimes it can kinda make me roll my eyes and go "okay, Ian, settle down buddy." He readily admits that sometimes he just really wants to play with all the toys in the toy box.

I think an example I might point do would be some of the Classic Sonic comics for IDW. The Tails special in particular felt like it relied very heavily on Ian being excited to use the Witchcarters again, and to use Flicky Island as a setting, but I felt like the story left me wanting a little more beyond just "this obscure old stuff is back again." (The art in all the Classic stuff is phenomenal, though, of course.)

Frontiers absolutely is jam packed full of references, but I think it works there because acknowledging and building off of decades of continuity is one of the main points of the story in Frontiers. It's part of a greater effort Sega has been making to acknowledge Sonic's legacy after much of the late '00s and early 2010s were spent being kind of ashamed of that stuff and trying to streamline the series. Frontiers, meanwhile, wanted to look back on all those past adventures and their inconsistent writing and figure out how to wring some proper character arcs out of them, so that the cast can reflect on those arcs and figure out what they want to do next. Mining hit-or-miss old material for a compelling throughline like that has always been something Ian's excelled at - it's literally what he did to the Archie comics when he started out - and having the characters acknowledge their past adventures is a part of that. It gives us a sense that Sonic and co. really have gone through a lot together, and that those experiences have shaped who they are today.

It's also worth remembering that a ton of more casual Sonic fans aren't as immersed in the state of the canon or Ian's referential writing style as we are. When Frontiers came out you'd see people say stuff like "OMG, Sonic mentioned Jet the Hawk!! I didn't know Sonic Riders was canon to the main series! I loved those games!" That kind of reaction is probably a big part of why those references are there. Sega wants fans to know that Sonic DOES have continuity, unlike a series like Mario where every game and sub-series is kind of its own thing, and that all the old stuff still matters. And if that's what you wanna do, then Ian's the guy for the job.

[bongo-clash]

Peacock Au Part 3

(Part One & Two here!!!)

Continuation of the Eldritch Danny DPxDC fic!!!! This is Kind Of the final chapter but Bones has also been making my brain go So Wild with other ideas so!!! Big chance they'll be more parts at some point (probably after Ectober week if I do!!)

Either Way Here It Is

(Fic under cut!!) (+ Part 4 Here)

-

Constantine makes the executive decision not to explain anything to Batman until the other League members are gathered in the watchtower meeting room. Maybe not his best choice, evidenced for the most part by the seething glare the vigilante is shooting him from his place at the head of the table, but still, John really doesn’t want to have to talk about this any more than he has to. It’s already going to be a pain in his side as is. 

It doesn’t take long for the rest to appear through the zeta tubes. Superman and Wonder Woman predictably arriving first of the lot, followed by Zatanna, the Flash, and then Green Lantern. Once they’re all settled and he figures this is all the people that’ll be showing up today, he deigns to begin speaking. He might’ve appreciated a bit of a higher attendance rate, but he’ll take it. 

“Alright, you lot,” He starts, just as the Green Lantern opens his mouth, likely to ask what this whole meeting is for. “I believe we’ve got a little bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Situation how, Constantine.” Batman asks, eyes narrowed behind the cowl, the furthest thing from a question. 

Constantine sighs deeply, fingers fidgeting in his coat pocket for a cigarette even if he knows he can’t smoke in the watchtower (maybe he could just hold one…). In lieu of looking the man in the face, however, he addresses everyone else in the room. “Well, see, the Bat here had a Pit forming in his territory, and he decided it’d be a bloody brilliant idea to call me for help instead of literally anyone else. The good news is the Pit’s gone. The bad news is I’m pretty sure the thing that got rid of it is worse.”

A few of them make faces, since if Constantine’s involved then this is definitely a magic problem, and none of them are fans of magic problems- Superman looks like he’s trying not to twitch. “Can you describe it?” 

“Not properly, no. Big, bright, bit of a space theme going on? Had these horrible things on them, kept changing between eyes and mouths and hands- used those to reach out and get rid of the Lazarus Pit, ‘far as I could see. They knew I was doing it for the Big Bat even though I never said a word about it, and from what I understand, they wanted a favour for sorting it out. I don’t know what they want it for.”

Batman’s face is unreadable, but there’s a scrutiny there that permeates the air around him. “So you discovered the existence of a powerful, unknown entity, and not only did you deign to summon it into our world, but you then proceeded to make a deal with it as well, completely unaware of the potential consequences.”

“In my defence,” Constantine retorts. “This is entirely your fault for getting me involved. I’ve no clue why you thought coming to me was a solid plan in the first place.”

There’s a storm brewing beneath that bat mask, but Wonder Woman intercepts before it can descend into a full-blown argument. “Now is no time to be assigning blame, we need a plan. Do you know of any way we can attain more information on this being, Constantine?”

“Not the foggiest,” He replies simply. “The only thing the book said was that it could help with the Pits. When I asked the damn thing what it was, it just gave me a riddle and, quite frankly, I wasn’t going to push it. So unless Zatanna has anything, I’ve got nothing.”

The whole table turns to look at Zatanna. She has a contemplative look on her face, pausing for the moment presumably to run through the information in her head. “Well, there’s a lot of entities around whose existences centre on keeping the balance between realms or concepts, but this is the first I’ve heard about anything like this. The closest thing I could think of is maybe Pariah Dark, since he’s known to have a connection to the Lazarus Pits, but he’s been out of commission for centuries now, and he’s never been depicted at all the way you described…”

“…And I know for a fact that his summoning ritual requires a blood sacrifice, and this thing didn’t want blood.” Constantine finishes. 

Zatanna makes a sour face, seeming to understand his implications, and the remaining non-magic members of the JL look appropriately disturbed. He thinks the worst thing about it for them is probably that there’s no real way to plan this out. They’ve got no power list, no strengths, no weaknesses, they don’t even really know what the entity is beyond its relation to the Lazarus Pits and even that’s an area of questionability, because the Pits are damn confusing on their own. If this thing shows up on them now, they’re screwed.

And just as the thought crosses his mind, there’s a tangible shift in the watchtower atmosphere, like the air’s thinning and closing in on itself at the same time. He looks at Zatanna with matching confusion, praying to gods he’s never met and that don’t like him that he hasn’t just managed to jinx himself in the worst way possible. 

“Do you feel that?” He says, and it doesn’t look like it’s only the other magic user in the room that does, because a fair few of the remaining League are pulling expressions Constantine really doesn’t like. Please, please say he hasn’t jinxed himself. 

There’s a sound like whale song and whistling as something comes up through the floor, and there’s not enough languages on Earth or beyond to encapsulate how many swears John wants to say right now. 

But it’s not the entity. 

Or at least, it doesn’t look like the entity, even if it certainly feels like it. It kind of looks like a teenager, of all the awful things. They have flare-white hair, bright, sheepish green eyes, and they’re wearing what Constantine thinks is a hazmat suit but doesn’t know enough about hazardous material protection to say for certain. No alarms going off, no doors opening or shutting, no signals at all; just a weird breeze, and the few seconds of warning that gives before the being appeared. That’s worrying. The way the League doesn’t even say anything is more so. 

“Hi,” They start, after what feels like an eternity of silence, and oh boy, they really do sound about twelve. Constantine doesn’t know how to deal with children, let alone ones that can just phase into the most secure superhero base in Earth’s orbit. This is awful. “Okay, so, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, so I just wanted to, y’know, rectify my first impression? Uh, sorry if I came across sort of… weird.”

Everyone looks at the glowing kid. Everyone looks at each other. No one knows what to say. Flash decides to be the one to break the silence with a cough. “That’s great, kid! Uh… who are you, though?”

“Oh!” They startle. “Right. Me and Constantine met yesterday- I think I kind of scared him? It was by accident, though, I promise! I’d just had a long day, y’know? I didn’t know I was gonna get summoned and I wasn’t thinking so everything just kind of happened.”

No way. 

No. No way in Hell.

“You are not that thing I summoned yesterday.” 

And he knows, he knows entities like that tend to have forms more palatable for mortal eyes, but after seeing that yesterday, his brain just cannot for the life of it connect it to this. This child floating mid-air in a base he shouldn’t be able to access, with big huge earnest eyes and a painfully youthful face. One that seems to have reached a realisation. 

“Ah,” He says, smile just a little bit wry. “Fair enough, I did look kinda different then. Just- here, this should look a little more familiar?”

It’s not a full shift. He doesn’t contort into the same mind-searing thing that Constantine had had to bear yesterday- but his eyes scatter into neon spots across his face, nose and mouth left intact, the neck of his jumpsuit folds into the creases of an open eye, and those peacock-membrane-whatevers fall into fruition on his back, drifting like a cape or like spines. And just to top it all off, there’s a dinky little crown floating above his head, decorated with icicles and whispers of mist. 

It’s not a full shift, but Constantine’s never going to forget those damn cosmic peacock feathers. No mistaking it: that’s the entity. Forget yesterday, this is the worst day of his life. 

“What the Hell is happening right now.” Green Lantern flatlines, face dulled into non-understanding. Constantine thinks he feels the same way but worse. 

He takes a deep, cleansing breath, and tries not to scream. “You’re the one who sorted the Pit problem out?”

“Uh, yep, that’s me.”

“Okay, great! Fantastic. Can you tell me what the Hell that whole deal was?”

What’s left of the maybe teenager’s face drops somewhat, and a gloved hand reaches up to rub at the back of what’s left of his neck. “Ha, right, yeah sorry.” He mumbles, and Constantine kind of feels bad, but he’s also still kind of suffering from the adrenaline high of meeting the guy yesterday, so he guesses they’re even now. 

“So, I mean, I don’t usually look like that? It is my true form or whatever, but I’m not really… I don’t hang about in it too often. Gives people the heebie jeebies, y’know? I don’t want to scare people out of nowhere, especially not for a first meeting! But I was about to go to sleep last night when you summoned me, and I wanted to shift my form a little just to be more formal about the whole thing, but I guess I let the whole thing go by accident, and I didn’t realise at all until I got home. And if I was in that form by accident- I usually go with ghostspeak during summonings ‘cause it’s easier in that way and there’s usually translation sigils embedded in the circle- but if I was in that form by accident, then I was probably using a different dialect to the one I thought I was, so if I sounded kind of off, then that’s why. Again, really sorry about that. This was totally not how I wanted my first impression with the Justice League to go. You’re all really cool, y’know? I wanted to get off on the right foot and not the ‘let’s fight each other’ foot.”

Constantine blinks, opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and then blinks again. He’s sure there’s a reasonable response to this that can be expressed in a sentence somewhere, but right now he’s too enamoured with how utterly absurd this is. He genuinely, honestly does not know what’s worse: that this kid can turn into that, or that he can turn into that and it’s so natural he doesn’t even notice. 

Still, as consistent as the sun sets, Batman’s the first one to break the stupor, interjecting with narrowed eyes. “How do we know you’re not a threat to us? We don’t even know who you are.”

“Uh,” The kid splutters. “I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Danny.”

“Danny.” Batman replies flatly. 

“It’s a nice name!” Danny, apparently, defends, looking about as stupefied as someone can without eyes on their face. The dinky little crown drifts after him when he moves his head. “And, um, I don’t know how to prove I’m not a threat? I mean, I closed up that Lazarus Pit for you, if that counts as being helpful in a non-threatening way?”

If anything, Constantine would think that makes someone more threatening. “You said you wanted a favour for it, that you were going to ‘find your recompense’.”

“No I didn’t?” Danny says incredulously, before he pauses and his lips part in an O. “Right, translation error, duh. I uh, didn’t actually say that, that’s just how the sigils took it I think. You don’t owe me anything. It might be nice to get some help if I’m ever in a bind or something, but we didn’t make a deal or a pact or anything, you just asked for help, so I helped. 

His brain completely shuts down, blue-screen style. This isn’t how this type of thing goes. There’s no way this is that easy. “You seriously don’t want anything.” 

“I mean, an autograph might be nice. My friend thinks you and batman are cool.”

“You don’t think the rest of us are cool?” Flash complains, because that’s exactly what he’s supposed to be getting out of this conversation and not how utterly insane it is. 

Danny, the kid that’s going to be giving him nightmares and is already giving him migraines, has the audacity to look embarrassed. “I think you’re cool; obviously you’re all cool, you’re the Justice League! My friend’s just into the edgier members, I guess? She’s goth.”

“Oh? So who’s your favourite?” Why is no one acknowledging that the incomprehensible cosmic horror just called him edgy. Why are they just moving past this. 

“…Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern. I really like space.”

Yeah, no shit, he’s made of it. 

Constantine genuinely wants to pass out. He wants Batman to get him over the head with a batarang; he wants Superman to tap him on the forehead and give him a concussion, just- anything not to be here right now. This might not even be the weirdest thing that’s happened to him, but he’s hating every minute of it. This kid’s talking and existing like it’s nothing but even as the conversation begins to border on casual the atmosphere is still thick, nearly physical with the chill and the chiming of bells and the way something shifts every time those peacock feathers waver behind him. 

Right now, John really, truly does not care if this entity’s playing some kind of twisted long con to trick them into sacrificing their souls or something equally as horrifying. He just wants to go home and forget anything ever happened. “So, you’re not a malicious entity.” Constantine states finally, putting an end to any further back-and-forth that he’d managed to tune out. 

“I promise you I’m not.” Danny replies seriously, even as his features shift back to something more human-looking that only seems like it’s trying and failing to hide something bigger underneath it now. 

Constantine puts his hands in his pockets, and turns straight to the door. “Brilliant news. I’m leaving now. I hope we never have to see each other again.” The League and that kid can do whatever they want, but Constantine swears on everything he holds sacred that he’s not touching any of it with a ten-foot pole. He never wants to have to deal with anything like this again, and he is never agreeing to do Batman another favour. 

[samonroegf]

we meet again | rockstar!sam monroe

you haven't seen or heard from sam monroe in 10 years. what happens when you go and see your favorite band, and your childhood best friend is the one on stage?

requested by @crymyblood and inspired by this post. some nice cliche friends to strangers to lovers. ᝰ masterlist

senior year.

sam’s head leaned in your window, it was inching towards 4 in the morning. the dark sky starting to be bleached with the light colors of dawn. sam was out of breath and had a smirk on his face, “hey, didn't know if you'd still be awake.”

you smiled back at him, setting aside the latest book that had your attention. you walked towards the window, leaning on the edge of it, sam's face mere inches from yours. “couldn't put the book down," you laughed.

“i don't have much time, the bus is leaving soon. will come with me?” time has stopped in this moment, the brisk morning air making puff of smoke when sam spoke.

“you’re leaving?” your heart stopped in your chest, falling to the deepest pits of your stomach. your world crashing around you, your safe space, your best friend is leaving.

“i am. i can't stay in this stupid town, i hate it here. I'm running away, will you come with me? please, come with me.” his eyes were so big, asking for too much. your heart and your mind fought ferociously in your body.

“where are you even going? do you have money?” concern boiled under the surface, your hands shook.

“it doesn't matter. are you coming with me?” his hand outreached towards you, and you wanted to take it. you couldn't get yourself to, you loved sam but you couldn't just runaway and go nowhere.

“i-i can't, sam. I can't go but,” you paused and searched through your nightstand, years of saved up birthday money.

you shove the envelope in his hand, “take this, it's $1200. it won't get you super far but it'll help.”

“i can't take th-” sam's eyes were welling to the brim with tears, he can't believe you said no. he never even thought that was a possibility.

“you will. you'll take it, and it'll help. i love you.” in a haze of dizziness and flurrying emotions, you pressed your lips to his. his hands are soft and chapped.

he froze for a moment, only a moment, and then he was gone. out of your window, out of your hometown, out of your life.

modern day. concert.

you basked in the music of your favorite band, humid air and hot bodies surrounded you. everyone cheering on the main act. your heart thumped in your chest, adrenaline rushing through veins while seeotonin flooded your mind.

there was few things that compared to being at a concert. everyone around you hyped, your body is sweaty, the air is gross, but the people that saved you standing mere feet away.

the lead singer usually had a mask on while performing, but recently decided to axe it in live concerts for the fans.

the utter shock that tore through your body when the lead singer that stared back at you was sam monroe. the same boy that left all those years ago.

he looked so similar but so different. of course, he still had his face. but he was now covered with so many tattoos, more piercings, and all of his hair is colored.

without better words, he looked hot. once you pieced it together, his voice wasn't all that different, just deeper now, a little raspier. probably from smoking, and screaming during his songs.

you felt whiplashed from the amount emotions that cut through you. you listened to the songs on a much deeper level, you wondered if any of the songs were about you. a bit conceded but he knew you from kindergarten to senior year, kinda leaves an impression on a person.

modern day. after the concert.

the concert had ended you stood in the venue trying to figure out how to see him. you needed to talk to him, you'd missed him more than anything in the world. you needed to see sam, needed him to see you.

the technicians for the band, started carrying the instruments into the back of the van.

“hey! um, kinda weird question, do you think you can get sam for me?” you voice was shaky, and you knew the likelihood was low. or it would be if only sam didn't go by his legal name anymore, didn't want to be known.

so when you ask for him by that name, one of them uses the com to ask for him, you tell him your name and shortly sam appears in front of you.

he looks somewhere between unnerved and thankful to see you. you couldn't help it, tears welled in your eyes. you never thought you'd ever see him again. you can't do anything but pull him in for a hug. you couldn't stop to think he'd be unhappy to see you. he's the one that left.

he hugs you back hard, basically crushing you. he rubs his face in the crook of your neck, he's holding you so close. the one that got away.

“sammy, i-i’m sorry! I'm sorry i didn't go with you. I've missed you so much, i-i didn't-” you're blubbering. you didn't care that the rest of his band, and the crew could probably see you. your emotions were overwhelming, like waves taking you under.

“sh, hush, it's okay. i know, i know.” his shirt is balled up in your hand, and he's rubbing comforting circles on your back. he didn't know what to say. what do you say to someone you haven't seen in forever?

“you-” you began to talk, looking at sam. you're really taking him all in, this man just might be the love of your life.

your thoughts are interrupted by his hands holding your face, his lips enveloping yours. the softness of his lips constrasts harshly with the need that he kisses you with.

“i can't let you go again,” he breathes after a few monents, his forehead against yours.

“i never forgot, i think of you all the time, i, please come with me? go on tour with us, will you?” he's looking at you expectantly, fear evident in his eyes. he's scared of that same rejection all over again.

“i will, i will. I don't want to lose you again, sam. i will follow you forever." you're holding his hands against your face.

sam gets the stupidest and widest grin on his face. “who woulda thought I'd fall for a fan,” he laughs and you can't help but punch him in the arm.

“oh my god. shut up.”

[the-marigold-reception]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Mordecai writing a love letter confessing his feelings to his love interest. I believe he wouldn’t be as poetic as Rocky, but since he is so into reading and talking with big words I do think it would be a little dramatic letter. Just a paroxysm of everything he may feel.

If you don’t like that idea, how about him as a secret admirer? (As you may have noticed, I am quite a big fan of love letters, lmao). How he would struggle to leave his letters without being seen and the way he would try to get his crush to say anything about it while not looking suspiciously involved.

Thank you very much. Your page is my favourite, so I hope you don’t mind taking one of my ideas.

To Whom It May Concern,

I have admired you for some time now, and I must confess my feelings. Your presence captivates me, and I find myself thinking of you incessantly. I harbor a deep affection for you that cannot remain unspoken any longer.

Yours Truly,

A Secret Admirer

It takes him a while to actually place the letter somewhere you’ll find it

He’s so nervous to be this vulnerable about his emotions

When he finally posts the letter into your letterbox, in the dead of night, fully decked out in black so no one- not even you would be unable to spot him

The next night he’ll come back and see the letter is gone- now he knows the waiting game is afoot

He won’t have to ask you if you’ve received any weird mail because you’ll come straight to him

(He’s very happy that you depend on him for help with simple things)

“Mordecai! I got this letter and I realllllly want to know who it is- can you help me draw up a systematic chart of likely to unlikely?”

The strong urge to tell you it’s him starts there

But he is flattered when you write his name down first out of anyone-

If you don’t figure it out after the first letter, he’ll send you another

To Whom It May Concern

It is with a trembling hand and an eager heart that I pen these words to you. The world around us is a tempest of change and noise, yet in your presence, I find a sanctuary of calm. The bustle of the city, the clamor of the jazz bands, all fade into a distant murmur when I am with you. It is as if time itself pauses, granting us a stolen moment of eternity.

How I wish I could express these feelings openly, but alas, the constraints of our world bind me to the shadows.

Yet, let this letter serve as a beacon of my affection, a silent testimony to the depths of my devotion. Until the day we can walk freely under the sun, I shall remain, faithfully and fervently,

Yours, in silence and in longing.

He’s a bit worried about what your reaction will be when you figure out it’s him

If you figure out it’s him-

You definitely know

You snuck into his office and checked the penmanship, the speech pattern was the same as Mordecai’s and he’d started to get increasingly nervous around you

One day a letter is slid under Mordecai’s office door whilst he’s working

To my Longing Admirer

Your letter found its way to my heart as surely as a sunbeam pierces through the morning mist. Your words, so tender and earnest, have stirred within me a curiosity and a longing I can scarcely describe.

It is with a blend of trepidation and exhilaration that I respond to your heartfelt confession. The sentiments you have shared resonate deeply with my own unspoken dreams and desires. Though the world may impose its boundaries upon us, I find myself yearning to transcend them, if only for a moment.

Might we dare to meet, and allow our hearts the luxury of true connection? If it pleases you, let us rendezvous at the Serendipity Tearoom on the corner of Elm and Rose, this Saturday at three o'clock. There, amidst the soft murmur of whispered secrets and the delicate clink of teacups, we may find solace in each other's company.

I shall be the one with a single gardenia, tucked gently in the folds of my dress. Until then, I remain,

Yours in hopeful anticipation,

An Enchanted Soul

[should I do a Part 2?]

[averyangrypossum]

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the

Flowerbroadcast AU!

Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.

The full-body one

And the one with both Vox and her

And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.

Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.

Was this relationship healthy?

NO!

Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?

Yeah.

But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,

“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.

So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.

Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.

1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.

2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.

3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.

Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.

A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!

Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!

Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!

Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?

Cuz it really doesn’t matter!

This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.

Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤

But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.

Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!

Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~

[mgparker]

recruitment gone… right?

platonic!steven grant/marc spector x teenage!reader

summary: who in their right mind sends a teenager to recruit a dangerous vigilante all on their own? oh sam and fucking bucky.

warnings: teenage avenger reader, inaccuracies, clueless steven being an overall mess and a huge cap fan, violence, swearing, gen z shit? perhaps idk, 2k word count

request: ‘can you do a father figure Marc Spector/Steven Grant x A teenage avenger who was sent to recruit him? I imagine the reader being a typical Gen Z kid with a sarcastic sense of humor, but meaning well.’

notes: loosely based off this request i got MONTHS ago. i’m so sorry it’s taken forever this has literally been in my drafts for a year. not a whole lot of father figure-ing going on but i think it’s a funny little neutral recruitment blurb/one-shot. enjoy. also not sure if this is gen-z enough but i was not going to make this obnoxiously “relatable”

“It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Sam, I want you to think about what you just said. Then think about who you’re talking to. And then… consider the possibility that your plan might actually work if you send Barnes.”

A distant voice shouted through the speaker of your phone. “No can do, kid. Recruitment is below my paygrade now!”

You rolled your eyes, shuffling down a busy sidewalk in the midst of London. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I’m talking to the big champs now.”

You heard Sam chuckle in amusement, and you could imagine him shaking his head at your words. “You know what you gotta do. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get back to base. Kick some ass with the big champs.”

“Yeah, yeah,” it was time to get serious. “Got it, Wilson. I’ll check in later.”

Instead, it was Bucky who answered. “You’ve got this, squirt!” 

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even give Sam a chance to get a word in before you were ending the call, stuffing your phone into your pocket and narrowing in on the bus stop ahead. 

This is stupid, you thought as you waited a safe distance away. You couldn’t risk your target spotting you before you could properly assess them. Who in their right mind sends a teenager—a freaking teenager—to recruit one of England’s most dangerous vigilantes?

You’re not scared—you were far more than capable to defend yourself, even against the famed Moon Knight—but it feels out of your way, something you’ve never been asked to do. But of course, as an Avenger, this was your duty.

You couldn’t help but think of this whole thing as a personal attack. With Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson assuming the mantle of interim leaders of the Avengers (or rather what remains of them), this whole mission seemed like their version of a practical joke. 

Those two loved you with all their heart, you didn’t doubt it, but they take the role of “fun uncles” a bit too seriously. 

But anyway, this recruitment... This isn’t fun. Not in the slightest.

This is like being a salesperson. 

Shudder. 

Finally, you catch sight of your target—Steven Grant, an extremely sleepy, stumbling gift-shoppist who had appeared at the bus stop surprisingly early for once.

He seems gentle enough, guard mostly down, clutching his bag with a paranoid grip but that was the only thing tense about him. He’s technically older than you, not ridiculously so, but a bit younger than Sam.

You watch as his lips start forming some words; it’s subtle, nothing anyone would really notice unless they were analyzing him piece by piece like you currently were.

Ah. You realized with a pleased smile. Steven Grant and Marc Spector are working together. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of the bus arriving, squeaking loudly as it stopped in the street. 

Showtime. 

There was a click in your brain, or that’s what it felt like at least, and a quick scanning of your surroundings made it easy to instantly blend in. 

Steven Grant was having a decent morning. He actually woke up in time, ate a decent breakfast, and rushed out of the house with ten minutes to spare. 

Even Marc had been pleasant this morning, making unusual small talk as Steven went about his business, getting ready for work. 

And everything was well. Up until now—as he stood in the bus, trying to keep himself from falling asleep on the passengers around him, despite the extra shot of espresso he’d slipped into his drink this morning. 

Steven. 

He jolted awake, pulling his head away from a man’s shoulder with a small ‘sorry!’

But before he could doze off once more, something odd came over him. A strange tingling feeling, as if he was being watched. 

It snapped the drowsiness right out of his system, eyeing everyone suspiciously. 

You feel it too, don’t you? Something isn’t right. 

“What—” He mumbled quietly, searching for the source but coming up emptyhanded.

There was nothing peculiar or odd about his fellow commuters. 

So, he continued about his day, feeling that unsettling eye on him at all times but unaware as to its source. 

It was only when his shift was over, that he was walking home, that he decided this charade had gone on for far too long. 

Despite Marc’s pleas to let him front, Steven stopped in his dead tracks, away from any curious eyes. 

“Oi, who’s there?”

Great job, Steven. If that isn’t the most cliché thing to say before the main character gets killed in a horror movie. Marc sighed. 

“Shut up,” hissed Steven quietly. “You know I don’t watch horror movies—”

Steven blinked and suddenly you’re there, standing in front of him as if you’d been there the entire time. 

“AH!” 

The scream echoed down the alley, high-pitched and nearly startling you into a similar yelp. 

But you were quite used to your presence spooking others, it’s a part of your abilities that you’d never been able to control. 

Chest heaving and cheeks tinted with embarrassment, Steven gave you a suspicious glare. 

“Oh, it’s—it’s just a kid,” he tried to brush off his embarrassing reaction. 

You scoffed, a bruise to your ego. “Not just a kid.”

“Well, I know what I’m seeing,” Steven argued. “And you look like a child—“

“Firstly,” you’re staring at Mr. Knight’s suit, taken aback by the change in his appearance that you’d apparently triggered by startling him so bad. “I’m seventeen. Second, I thought you had a whole—“

You aimlessly motioned around your head in a sort of halo way, confusing the ever fuck out of Steven who just stood there blankly.

“A whole w-what?” He gaped, desperate to know what you— a complete stranger — had to say about his kickass suit.

“You know, a whole cape thing goin’ on.”

Ha! Colonel Sanders.

Steven wished there was a way to punch Marc.

“Now, you’re just talking about my lesser counterpart,” Steven shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he had just been offended to the core.

“Ouch, hard feelings?”

Steven pulled his lips to the side. “You could say that— wait. How do you know about—?”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” you interrupted. “I was sent here on behalf of an organization that is really interested in having you join our ranks. Normally, they’d send someone else but you’re stuck with me so—“

“What organization? What ranks? You’re hiring?” I guess we’re both interrupting each other now. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Even if the task was annoying, you wouldn’t be returning to base with a new recruit if you hit him with a bunch of attitude.

Patience was not your strongest virtue. “Not exactly. As soon as you put that blade down, maybe we can talk some more.”

Steven looked down with a jolt, as if he hadn’t realized he’d been white-knuckling the weapon since you appeared.

Slowly, he started to store the blade before Marc cut in hastily. Hello? Are you seriously letting a kid tell you what to do? A kid who appeared out of thin air?

Steven caught Marc’s glare in the reflection of a small puddle, the road damp from London’s regular showers. He looked much more menacing than Steven, even with his half-assed suit. 

He hadn’t said it yet, but Steven knew Marc was aching to take over. And it was probably the smartest option- Steven wasn’t the best at confrontation. 

“Don’t hurt a minor please,” he pleaded quietly. Marc narrowed his eyes at the notion. But he nodded his head dismissively.

With a sigh, Steven allowed Marc to front.

All the while, you minded your own business as well as you could, staring at the sky suspiciously. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sam had sent Redwing to spy on you. Not because he didn’t trust you of course, but because him and Bucky loved to get a laugh in whenever they could. 

“Alright, let’s cut the bullshit. Who sent you? Harrow?” 

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from how fast your head snapped forward. 

The suit was different, cape billowing behind him, and eyes even whiter than before. They seemed to glow-- no, they were glowing-- and glare into the depths of your soul. You were almost intimidated.

“Who the hell is Harrow? Absolutely not. Since you asked so nicely, I was sent on behalf of Captain America.”

Captain America? He gripped the crescent blade tighter. 

He considered your words carefully, staring at you with the utmost suspicion. Lip curling up, head already starting to shake in disapproval, annoyance consuming him altogether— 

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s- that’s amazing!”

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. “It is pretty cool,” you shrugged thirty minutes later, chewing through a particularly large bite of your warm bagel. You were sat in the corner of a small, dingy bakery. What it lacked in aesthetics, the bakery definitely made up for in flavor.

“Do you think you could maybe, like I dunno, introduce us?” Steven asked with an excitement that barely kept him still in his seat.

You’re surprised he hasn’t gathered the attention of everyone else in the bakery, but for once, you’re not the one worried about being on the opposite end of a judgmental eye.

Being an Avenger in these post-Blip days isn’t as easy as it was before… stack that on top of being a ‘child’ and it’s the perfect recipe for disaster.

‘They’re too young!’

‘They can barely contain their abilities!’

‘The Avengers already ruined our lives before! Why should we trust a child?!’

Even if you denied it a million times, there was always a small part of you that craved their approval. Their vote of trust…Maybe this mission would help with that, once they learned that it was you who got the infamous bad-guy-turned-good Moon Knight to join the world’s mightiest superheroes…

Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly you who got Steven to willingly agree. But there was absolutely no way in hell you were ever telling Sam that it was his pull that got the deal sealed.

“Sure,” you smiled back at Steven who just about died at your response. The coffee in his mug jostled out and splashed onto the table. “Big Captain America fan?”

“As of late,” Steven grinned. “So, when do we leave? Is—” He gasped suddenly and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Captain America coming to pick me up?”

Jesus Christ. Marc groaned. This was a fucking mistake. 

Steven ignored him and looked at you expectantly.

You glanced up from your phone where you’d been rapidly typing something up. You did a double-take as you processed his question.

“Absolutely,” you deadpanned. “He’ll send a car for you. Probably meet you at the airport with his private jet.”

Steven’s eyes grew wider with every word. Marc was scowling in the reflection of the window behind you.

“Bollocks...” he breathed, staring down at his lap in disbelief. 

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I don’t even know what to say. I mean, who—who would’ve thought they would send a seventeen-year-old to recruit little ole me—”

You saw something click in his brain. He looked up with glazed over irritation. “...you’re... you’re not being serious.”

“Of course, I’m not being serious, Grant. I got here alone and I’m more than capable of getting us back to base. You can save the fangirling for when we finally touch down alright? He’ll meet us there.”

Steven pursed his lips at you. 

Rolling your eyes, you finished your text and locked your phone with a click. “I’m being serious this time.”

Excitement poured into his gaze again. You’re not sure how Marc feels about it, only that after explaining yourself in very, very specific detail, he was open to the discussion. But it must be a mutual decision at this point. You doubt Steven would’ve gotten this far if his counterpart was fighting against it.

“Marc is on board?”

“Absolutely.”

Don’t lie. I’m regretting this more and more each second.

Steven continued. “Should I... should I pack my bags?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” you agreed nonchalantly.

“... now?”

You tapped your phone and glanced at the time. “If you want to make our flight in less than an hour, I’d say so.”

“Bollocks!” Steven exclaimed, nearly knocking the table over on his mad dash out the door. 

You snickered as he slammed into a lady on his way out. 

—————> the big champs + bucky

you: i’m expecting a promotion when i get back. and for you two to get off my ass already 

redwing’s bitch: I told you it wasn’t going to be too hard. Proud of you, kid

you: 😐

you: thanks i guess... expect a meet and greet when we get there. he’s probably going to be up your ass. steven’s your biggest fan. marc not so much.

you: and don’t worry bucky, they didn’t mention you at all <3

bucky bitchy barnes: fuck off. I have a fanbase. It’s on tweet.

you: wtf is tweet

bucky bitchy barnes: Don’t fuck with me you know what tweet is. 

you: my brother in christ... you mean to say twitter :,)

bucky bitchy barnes: I hate, no DETEST, your generation. 

ha ha

— elle <3

[allastoredeer]

I'm with you there on preferring bottom!Alastor and getting squicked out by top!Alastor. The squick is worse for me when searching radioapple than radiostatic stuff, and I think it has more to do with the egregious amount of uke-fication of Lucifer that I've seen. Vox and Al get it sometimes too, let's be real that's gonna happen in any mlm ship. But I feel like it happens SO often to Lucifer, mostly cause he's small and cute, that people completely forget he's the oldest and most powerful entity in hell.

He would NOT be genuinely scared or intimidated by Al or any other sinner for that matter and Al would NOT be able to physically overpower or threaten Luci. It just feels so wildly out of character for me that any of the appeal of the ship/characters is gone at that point.

Like, for real, no shade to anyone that likes that, go on and get your food. But my extreme dislike of it has me now avoiding bottom!Lucifer radioapple like the plague just so I don't risk being subjected to it.

I think...I think you just described why I feel so squicked out by bottom!Lucifer and top!Alastor 😦 Like, I couldn't figure out what exactly about it was throwing me off, but you just said it perfectly!!

That's literally it! It's the uke-fication of Lucifer. That's it. Lucifer would never feel threatened by Alastor. He would never be overpowered by Alastor. So when I see depictions of Alastor successfully intimidating Lucifer, or overpowering him at all, it just throws me out of the story.

Lucifer's been alive longer than Hell. Alastor's measely 100+ years of being alive is nothing compared to his millennia+ lifespan. And yeah, Lucifer is the strongest person in Hell, he could beat Alastor in any fight, no question. He has no reason to be scared or threatened by him.

And look, there are ways to get Lucifer to a point of being afraid. There are always a way to make characters act in a way you wouldn't typically see. In fact, Lucifer, the biggest, baddest person in Hell, being threatened by something would be a huge thing for his character and for the story. That could totally work!

But when it comes from Alastor just going into his demon form, or looming over Lucifer, I just 🥲 it takes me out of the story. I can't. Alastor may be a big bad Overlord, and he's dangerous for sure, but like...power-wise he is just not on Lucifer's level and Lucifer knows that--Alastor knows that--and this is what makes their dynamic so, SO interesting, especially if they're in a relationship or slowly building into a relationship. That's what makes it so spicy and flavorful. The push and pull. The insecurity and emotion. The complex dynamic between them.

I think you're right about it making bottom!Lucifer and top!Alastor lose its appeal. I went back through my Twitter bookmarks yesterday and found a few top!Alastor's & bottom!Lucifer's that I've saved, but I've come to dislike that generalized characterization of it so much that I avoid it it like the plague too.

And like you said, there's no hate to those who enjoy it. This is fandom and people are allowed to write, draw, and do what they want. It's all fiction and it's not hurting anyone.

I just don't like the top!Alastor & bottom!Lucifer dynamic in most fan-arts, and I don't click onto fics with it cause I just don't want to subject myself to an unenjoyable time 😂 I'm here to have fun too, afterall.