#this is a real cool one i always come back to

[itneverendshere]

reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there

okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3

wash the sins out of that house - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate. 

Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.

Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.

It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back. 

Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.

He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”

“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.”He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his. 

You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”

You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.

Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.

He’d hurt people. Done things.

But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.

The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.

Who the hell?

You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.

“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”

Your dad? That was your dad?

Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this. 

Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.

Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”

He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”

You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.

Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.

“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”

He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”

“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”

He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.

You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”

Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.

Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”

That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.

No one talked to you ike that. No one.

He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.

“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”

Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.

He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.

Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"

The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.

You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.

He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.

“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”

Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.

“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”

You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.

“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”

You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.

This though? You never wanted him to find out. 

But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.

“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”

Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.

Not yet.

“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. 

You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.

Maybe that’s why you worked.

But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.

“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”

He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.

 “This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”

“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”

You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”

You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.

Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.

Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.

Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.

Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.

“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”

Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.

The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.

“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup. 

Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.

Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.

“Hey, Rafey, can we go to the park after this?”

You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.

He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”

Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, remember?”

He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.

Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”

Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”

You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”

You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”

“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”

You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”

Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”

“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”

Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”

You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of whb kings reacting to gn mc cracking their bones(?) I genuinely don't know what's it called lol... I don't really know if demons do that but it would be funny if they don't and mc just suddenly did that during a steamy moment..

WHB kings w/ an s/o who cracks their knuckles and joints

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: I hc that demons can't do this bc their bodies work a bit different from ours, so to them it just looks like you're breaking them

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

What are you doing?!

Oh, that... Doesn't hurt you?

Satan demands answers and tutorial on how he can do that as well

It looks cool and right up his alley

If your joints pop at random, he'll at first think that you really did break a bone or something

How can your body be so fragile?

Wait, your body does that by itself and just for the fun of it?

Hmmf... Human bodies are so weird...

       ༺☆༻

"Are you okay, master?"

When he hears the cracking sound he's immediatelly by your side, ready to assist you and get you to a doctor

Then he realises you're doing that on purpose and he's flabbergasted

Is breaking their knuckles just a human thing?

Now, during spicy time I can imagine he's just pushing your legs up agains your chest and then he hears the *crack*

His heart stops and he ceases all movent

He just broke your back or worse, didn't he?

It takes full minutes to reassure him that you're okay and that he didn't break anything

       ༺☆༻

Stop that immediatelly

Levi is uncomfortable and won't hesitate to hang you for something so cringe-inducing

Doesn't care that it's normal for humans

He's the king and you will listen to him

Even if your body does is by accident, he'll shoot you death glares

Honestly? His irritation partially comes from him being worried and you doing this will make it harder in the future to distinguish whether you need a doctor

Oh, but Glasyalabolas is very interessted in this feature and wants to know everything

       ༺☆༻

Oho? What just happened?

Prepare to explain why or how you're cracking your knuckles each time bc this bit of information is not staying in his brain

All that matters is that you're safe and sound

You want candy?

Random joint pops usually don't even go noticed during spicy time with Beel, since you're both too preoccupied with each other

Your joints cracking are a good way to destinguish between the real Beel and Bael pretending to be him, though

Bael will freak out and wanna take you to Paradise Lost fro a checkup

       ༺☆༻

Ugh... What is that noise?

'Who tf is snapping twigs in my room?'

When he looks over, he just sees you absentmindedly cracking your knuckles

He's too tired to interrogate you about that, but Beleth does get it as his number one task on his list

If your knees act like they're 400 years old, Belphie will always make a comment about it while you're on top

I kinda want to say that Belphie is an outlier and his joints also crack since he moves so little and when he finally tries to use them they get offended

       ༺☆༻

Luci is aware of some features of human bodies, but even this is kinda surprising to him

Why would you do that to yourself?

Still, he's not worried since as a healer he knows what makes your joints crack and pop

He does wish you'd not do that around him, though

If that happens on accident, he'll ignore it unless you sound off that that particular one was painful

All the demons in Paradise Lost are aware of your joints randomly popping and don't question it

It's even written into your medical file

Somehow, Gamigin missed the memo and freaks out each time and is worried even after your explanation

[websterss]

ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE — TYLER HARRISON

SUMMARY: Tyler has everything to lose especially when Weyland Corps has you in their hold, so why wouldn't he follow through with his orders in order to get you back.

WARNING(S): angst, fluff,

WORD COUNT: 2,844

PAIRING: Tyler Harrison x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Tyler sat rigid and on edge as he waited in the west wing of the ship's infirmary bay. The cool metal bench seeped through his pants as he bounced his knee for five minutes. The long wait agitated him and made him uneasy. He clocked his three o'clock and then his nine, both ends of the hallways vacant and deserted apart from him and his need to see you. They usually were sporadic with being on time and persisting he be there on time for his debrief before he was allowed to see you again. That was Weyland's leverage over him, holding you high over his head, out of reach, and using your status updates as a means to get him to cave into doing their dirty work.

This new task made him feel like a snake. Made him hate the way he was going to have to betray those he cared about. Rain. How she and Andy were his first step in getting you back to him. This was the last of many debriefs he had been given before, many tasks where he had to carry out and commit crimes that plagued and haunted his dreams. Everything he's done, everything he was about to do was unforgivable. There was also that slight voice in the back of his head weighing all the possibilities where you would find out about his assignments and leave him. He at times thinks you should but you never do. You don't leave because if there was one thing that was keeping you here, still being with him, it was the undying love you had for one another.

"Harrison." A nurse calls out, pulling him out of his spiraling. He straightens his back and stands up. "Follow me."

Tyler nods, not one to question orders, and follows the nurse down the hallway quietly.

Tyler follows the nurse through multiple lefts and rights. He reigned in on the fact you weren’t easily accessible to reach. The facility was large and sterile, cold and unsettling. The nurse leads him down to a large room that looks more like a high-tech lab. They reach the closed door, where she swipes her badge across the scanner, a beep is emitted from the device and before he knew it the door was swishing open in a slide. The second his foot crosses the threshold, he meets your gaze. He takes no time in rushing towards you, wrapping his arms around your fragile state. He sighs, breathing in your scent, the oxygen cords inserted in your nostrils colliding with his chest as he hugs you gently but firmly.

"Ty!" You breathe out, a smile dawning on your tired expression.

Tyler feels himself at ease at the sound of your voice, his arms tighten around you as if you would disappear if he let go. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking his time to drink in the sight of you alive in front of him.

"Hey, sweetheart." He greets you tenderly, pulling back to get a proper look at you. You look so small and fragile in comparison to the massive medical bed you're lying in. The oxygen tubes in your nostrils and the plethora of wires that run from you to the various pieces of medical machinery make you look more like an experiment than a person. It breaks him to always see you this way. His gaze never falters from you as he calls over his shoulder to the nurse. "Leave us." Once he hears the swish of the door open and close again he looks back and then faces you once again. You look back at the door, feeling at ease now that you have him all to yourself.

"I've missed you. You weren't here last week. T-they said I'm getting better." Your breaths are slow and labored.

"I know. I couldn't come." A pang of guilt makes his stomach twist as he remembers the real reason he hadn't shown. "But I'm here now, alright? Sorry, I couldn't be here earlier." The words felt like bile in his mouth, but he pushed past the feeling as he squeezed your hand in his. "I had a meeting to attend to, but all's well and said now. I'm here and I'm all yours." He reaches forward to tuck one side of your oxygen tube behind your ear.

"I-I like the sound of that." You hum in delight, melting into his gentle caresses.

"Of course you do. You're pretty easy to please, sweetheart." Ty teases softly, his thumb rubbing small circles against the top of your knuckles. He studies your features, noting how tired you look, he can also see that your hair is getting long and unkempt. The sight of your hair growing back gives him all the hope he needs to push through.

"I missed seeing your smile." He murmurs, his hand continuing to stroke against your temple and hair. A beat of silence passes. "I think the treatments are starting to pay off. We were right to start you on them. I mean you're glowing compared to how you were these last two months." He beams. "How have they been treating you here? Is everything okay? Have they been too harsh or rough on you? I'll get Captain Mayfair to provide you with better nurses if they are. I won't hesitate to–" He inquires, his voice lowered slightly.

"Ty, baby, it's okay. They've made sure to make me feel as comfortable as possible."

"Promise?" Ty probes, staring earnestly into your eyes. "You would tell me, right? If they have been harming you? You'd tell me."

The way Tyler's looking at you lets him know there's a good chance that if any of the staff here have been making you feel uncomfortable you wouldn't complain. He knows you'd be too nice to even consider it.

"You'd kill anyone on sight if you so much as saw a bruise on my skin…I'm okay." You reassure him. Squeezing his hands. He looks down at your grip, amazed by the strength you've garnered again.

He chuckles, looking down at your intertwined hands, a soft breath of relief passing through his lips. The slight squeeze of your hand does little to soothe his fears, but for the moment, he lets himself bask in the fact that you're okay. It's more than he can hope for given the circumstances.

"You don't know the half of what I would do for you." He murmurs, slowly bringing your hand up to his lips. He plants a light kiss on your knuckles. "You're my top priority, infinitely."

"Infinitely?" You try to mask your chuckle, but he hears you anyway. "Two weeks ago you said I was a top priority, yet eternally."

"Forgive me, my love, for thinking you're the most important thing in the entire goddamn universe?" He smirks, rolling his eyes playfully as a scoff bubbles from his lips. He gives you a lopsided smile, bringing your hand to his cheek to nuzzle his face into it. He shuts his eyes and relishes the feeling of you against his skin. "You're top priority every single day and that's not going to change, you know. But when I say eternally…" His eyes open, looking back up at you. "I mean eternally. Until I die, or if you give out on me, and I no longer have you, the one thing keeping me from jumping into space without a suit. You're my top priority, no matter what. It's you above everything and everyone!"

"Well…I-I wouldn't go as far as to say above everyone, surely there are others that trump me-"

Ty pulls back slightly, a small frown playing at his features as he cocks his head to the side to look at you more directly.

"No." He asserts, his voice firm. "No. Don't even go there. You're top prior, my love. You are above all of them. You'll always be above everyone. I wouldn't be where I am today without you by my side. I wouldn't still be breathing if it weren't for you. You're the–the center of the Milky Way, my love. You are a…" He pauses, searching your eyes for any doubt, glitching when his brain farted.

"A black hole?" You quipp.

"Hush." He teases, grinning down at you. He playfully jabs your side with his index finger, watching a small smile grace your features. Seeing that smile makes his heart leap into his throat. He'll never get used to it. "You cheeky thing." He mutters, grabbing your other free hand. He takes it in his, intertwining the other hand that was there. He brings both your hands up to his lips again and gently kisses your knuckles. "You're more than a black hole. You're a supernova that's going to explode everyone's galaxy." He pauses, his smile never leaving his lips. "Including mine."

You flush under his warm eyes. You bite down on your bottom lip, your demeanor evolving into one of timidness. He had got you with that one, that was for sure. And he seemed to notice the fault in your composure. His smirk only grew.

"Really? That's the one that gets you?" He coos, grinning at the lovely flush that was spreading to your cheeks. It wasn't often that he was able to render you into a speechless blushing mess but when he could, my god did it fill him with an incredible amount of pride and love for you. His fingers gently squeeze your knuckles. "I'll remember this for next time, my love. Duly noted." He remarks slyly.

"It was good…" You laugh.

"It was pretty good, huh?" He teases lightly, his thumbs slowly starting to rub soothing circles against your knuckles. He chuckles, bringing his gaze up to your eyes again. "You don't make it too hard, my love. Just mentioning anything with a celestial connection and you're blushing like a school-aged teen, practically eating right out of the palms of my hands."

"It's the accent." You shrug. Blaming his pronunciation of his words and delivery. Mostly the delivery.

"Oh, now you're just grasping at straws, sweetheart." He quips again, grinning at you. "Now, I admit, my accent might be one of the finer things about me, but it's not exactly the primary reason you get all flushed." He hums, letting his thumbs press a little harder into your knuckles.

“You’re right, it’s all your hotness that’s making me swoon.” You feign a sigh.

"Yeah right, you big fibber." He calls you out, but there's a hint of a smirk that forms on his face. "You're swooning because you know who I belong to." He replies, his voice taking on a lower, gruff tone. "You swoon because you know I'm yours." His voice is just above a whisper, his eyes darkening. "Only yours, sweetheart."

You avert your gaze down to your lap. A faint smile displayed on your lips. But it slowly fades as Tyler tilts his head to meet your eyes. "W-what did they tell you?"

Tyler's face quickly morphs from playful to apprehensive. His thumbs had stopped their motion and now rested against your knuckles as he looked into your eyes.

"Let's not. Let's not talk about that right now." He says carefully, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Tyler, I can see it practically eating at you. What is it this time? What are they sending you to do?"

Tyler's jaw clenches, his eyes closing briefly as he lets out a soft sigh. He had been praying to anyone that you weren't going to mention his work for Weyland-Yutani. He should have known better. You were never the type to simply ignore the big elephant in the room.

His lips form into a thin line as he averts his gaze away from you. His mind is in an internal debate, contemplating whether to be honest with you or not. Tyler bites at the inside of his cheek, hesitating before he decides to speak.

"There's something new." He pauses, trying to organize his words. He looks at your face, noticing the growing sadness in your expression. His eyes soften as a wave of sadness mirrors over his own features. "They…" He pauses again, his jaw clenching slightly. "They told me it would be a retrieval."

"A retrieval for what?"

"Some sort of substance called Plagiarus Praepotens?" 

"Plagiarus Praepotens? What's that?"

"They didn't tell me much just that it was extracted from a xenomorph and combined with human DNA to perfect humans, whatever that means."

"A xenomorph...what the hell is that?"

"From what I’ve been told. I don't want to know."

"Tyler maybe this one isn't such a good idea. I mean from the sounds of it, it doesn't feel safe."

"I don't have a choice, my love." He mumbles, his head lowering in shame and guilt, the reality of the situation hitting him like a truck. He releases your hand from his grip and turns his whole body away from you. It pains him to feel weak but the truth is that is exactly what he is in the grand scheme of things. "I have my orders so I have to do this. I'll get them what they need, but not only that…" He inhales deeply. "I found a way to get us to Yvaga."

"Yvaga…Tyler what are you talking about?"

For the first time since you've known him, he looked desperate. In the years you'd been together, you've never once seen a crack in his confidence. He was always the strong and steady shoulder for you to lean on, but right now, in this very moment, that facade he usually wore was cracking. The facade he'd tried so hard to keep up for you was crumbling.

"I-" He pauses, swallowing thickly. "I have a plan."

"Ty…" You warned.

His eyes flicker around your face, his fingers twitching against his pants. His features shifting from desperate, to guilty and then finally to pleading. "There's cryostasis chambers on that spacecraft." He murmurs, licking his lips nervously. "I-I just need you to trust me."

"You're gonna go rogue…"

"No. No, I'm-" He stops himself short and he sighs deeply. "I-" He hesitates. His eyes are locked on your face and a wave of guilt washes over him as he sees the look in your eyes. "Damnit." He mumbled under his breath, his shoulders slumping.

He leans forward from where he sat on your bed, bringing his head close to yours. He tilts his head down and presses his forehead against your shoulder, his hands coming up to rest on either side of your waist. "Sweetheart…" He mutters, his voice hoarse. "I'll tell you everything. I swear. But, you have to trust me." He pleaded. He could feel your body stiffen against him, whether it was from the pain of his grip or from what he was asking of you, he didn't know. "I just want to get you out of here."

"Yvaga was always just a pipedream for us…It always felt so out of reach." You shake your head.

"It's not, my love." He whispers against your shoulder. He tightens his grip on your body ever so slightly. "It's not out of reach. I know it's not. I-I just need you to hold on for a bit longer. Can you do that, for me?" He murmurs, his head slowly pulling away from your shoulder, so he can look you in the eyes again. His expression had changed to one of almost desperation. "I meant every would I said about getting you out of here and I intend to keep my word."

"I know you do Tyler, but what are the risks huh? What's the catch in all this?"

"I-" He cuts himself off short, his eyes flickering away from your face for a moment. He knew he couldn't lie to you, you wouldn't accept that. But the truth wasn't going to make the situation any better. Instead, he slowly drags his hand up from your side to wrap a piece of your hair around his finger. He gently rubbed the strands between his fingers. He took a deep shaky breath before he was able to answer you. "Honestly..." He began, his voice low. "I need Andy to be able to access the entryways onto the ship."

"Andy? But that would mean you'd need to talk to Rain about him."

He nods his head slowly. "Yeah…I-" He pauses, hesitating. "I-I'll have to talk to Rain." He replies, his tone sounding reluctant. He didn't want to get anyone else involved in the situation, especially since he was essentially putting them on the line in the process. But what other choice did he have?

"Y-you're not gonna tell her about all this are you?" Your voice grows shaky.

He shakes his head slowly, his brow furrowing. "No." He murmurs in response. There was no way in hell he was going to drag anyone else into this. Putting you at risk was the last thing he wanted to do, but there were no other options. "It's you above everything and everyone else."

[aziraphales-library]

Y’all are awesome and I appreciate the hell out of this account! Any fics that are an attempt at a season 3? Preferably comedic ones! Thank you so much and keep up the amazing work! ❤️

Hello. We have a #good omens s3 speculation tag, so check that out. Here are more to add that have some kind of humour tag...

a place to be by kaiyen (NR)

In which Crowley moves back into his flat, Aziraphale has problems at work, and the Second Coming of Christ is but a stone's throw away. In the end, Crowley makes it to rolling green hills, leant against a stubbornly yellow Bentley. He remembers the first morning. He had slithered out of the ground not long before dawn, the dirt damp even before the first rain, the grass cool and crisp against his scales. And the sun had risen, jewels spilling across the great blue sky, warm and golden from the East. Crowley – Crawly, then – had wanted to follow it, had felt a great pull Eastwards. He went, too, until he found the ripe red fruit nestled amongst the lush green leaves and knew what they were for. It was luck, then, that the humans had left in the direction of the sunrise. Luck, or– ineffable. The sun rises over the South Downs, and Crowley finally wants to stay.

The Ineffable Shades of Gray (Good Omens Season 3) by altsernative (T)

After returning to Heaven, Aziraphale learns the Metatron's true intentions, finds himself disillusioned, and regrets his choice to leave Crowley, who has been working in the Temptations department. They reunite, and find themselves stopping the final war between Heaven and Hell and learning God and Satan's true intentions for the world and each other.

Demons are Forever by in_a_pickle (T)

After finallly finding the courage to tell his best friend his feelings, Crowley's dreams are shattered when Aziraphale once again chooses Heaven over happiness together. With ‘Great Plans’ afoot upstairs, Aziraphale discovers that the starring role he accepted comes with some unforeseen duties and that Crowley’s kiss has become something of a distraction. Crowley meanwhile is trying to come to terms with a broken heart and is trying to fathom why Heaven is so keen to have Aziraphale back in the fold. A mini adventure with our favourite group of two, written in case I get hit by a bus and never get to find out what happened next.

The Intended Effect by Esme_Abner (E)

A post-S2 fic that begins with a very sad Crowley and a conflicted Aziraphale and a surprisingly not-awful Jesus. It's all building toward our boys reconciling, because like everyone else, my heart is broken and I need to pick up the pieces somehow. And they might try to like save the world again, too.

(I just can't wait for) Season 3 Good Omens! by RCReveal (T)

After Season 2, I really needed to find out how Aziraphale and Crowley could get their reunion: a real reunion & not 'pretendy real'. They both have so much growing to do with neither of them, yet, being able to even say 'I love you' clearly to each other. Angel, what's going on? What kind of doublethink are you doing to still think that Heaven is the Good side & that you can't even admit to being friends? But you'll do anything to protect the World. Crowley, always planning on running. Sorry, but that won't work. If you had run at Armageddon there'd be no here to be in. But somehow, still a little seed of optimism. And wow! what you two can do together! Especially with a little help from old and new friends. So here's a story about averting the Second Coming with that great ensemble cast of characters in Heaven, Hell, and Whickber ST. Long set up, but then starts to speed up, kinda a wild ride from chapter 42 onto the end. This story is at about the same level of cursing, violence (well, maybe a little more Gaiman-esque), humor (definitely much more Terry Pratchett-esque) and romance as that of the second season.

There's a Special Place on Earth for Beings Like You by Kipje (T)

Set two years after Aziraphale leaves to become Supreme Archangel. It’s the Second Coming. Aziraphale is tasked with finding parents for the new Christ and returns to earth. He needs Crowley’s help, but the two haven’t spoken since the break-up. Crowley doesn’t want to forgive the angel, nor does he want to help out with the baby, but he finds it incredibly hard not to get involved. OR Aziraphale and Crowley raise the new Christ together; a girl named Eden. While they try to sort out their feelings and avert the apocalypse. Excerpt: Crowley had always assumed Aziraphale would want to run away with him in order to be together. He had never bothered to ask if there was a version where they would be an ‘us’ on earth. What was Aziraphale supposed to do once they arrived in the Alpha Centauri system. How would that even work with his book collection? Sure, Aziraphale had fallen in love with the demon – and it had taken him a while to be able to admit that – but he had also fallen in love with humanity, with earth. He had never planned on leaving. He knew earth would be no fun without his favourite wily serpent, but that did not mean he would be fine anywhere as long as Crowley was there. He had standards.

- Mod D

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Six

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: Cathy's not playing fair

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

“Meggy Harding, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Cathy Carter called coming from the direction of the old barn. “Come here, honey,” Meg hurried down the porch to meet her on the lawn, letting herself be swept up into one of Cathy’s strong hugs. “You’re getting skinny, have you been taking care of yourself?” 

“Been tryin’ to,” Meg let her second mom place kisses all over her face. “But I’ve been busy.” Cathy pinched her cheek, giving her a playful glare.

“Well, I’ll cook up a big dinner. You here for Kate?” 

“Always,” Meg tipped her head back to where Tyler remained on the porch, “And I brought a friend just in case my boot up her ass ain’t enough.” Cathy’s gaze shifted over Meg’s shoulder and the older woman perked up,

“Honey, he’s cute,” She said less than stealthily, wiggling her brows. “He your boyfriend?”

“Cathy, please,” Meg whined, tugging on Cathy’s arm. “Please be the one adult in my life actin’ normal about this man.” 

“Fine, fine, I’m on my best behavior.” She messed Meg’s hair, moving past her towards the porch. “And who might you be, honey?” 

“Tyler Owens, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, especially since you brought Meggy here to see me,” Tyler’s smile was big and bright. He was every parent’s dream, standing there all handsome, every sentence coming out of his mouth starting or ending with “ma’am.” 

Meg abandoned them, wandering off to the barn where she found Kate watching her old science project make a tornado. 

“Never gets any less impressive, Katie my Lady.” Kate glanced over her shoulder with a sad smile.

“Never thought we’d be back in the barn,” Kate’s accent was a little more pronounced, heavy with emotion. “Mom never cleaned it out,” Meg looked around, taking in the plastic covered tables. Without lifting the sheets, Meg knew what was beneath each one. All of Kate’s research, Addy’s drawings, Jeb’s cameras, and my binder filled with diagrams of the human body and notes on everything that could go wrong with it. The plan back then had been to become a doctor, Meg hadn’t thought about that dream in a long time. 

“We left a lot of things unfinished,” 

“Wonder why.” Kate clicked off the simulator, leaning back against the table. “What are you doing here, Meg?” 

“I smacked Javi, Tyler stopped me before I could hit him for real.” Kate chuckled, running a hand down her face. “We didn’t kill them, Kate.” 

“I’m going back to New York,” Meg sighed. If Kate ran again, there was no getting her back, she knew that. “Don’t try and stop me.” 

“We gotta do something, Katie, and runnin’s not an option anymore.” Kate’s response was cut off by Cathy and Tyler strolling into the barn, laughing to themselves. 

“You brought Tyler?” Kate snapped, angry. Meg’s temper spiked back,

“What was I supposed to do, steal his truck?” Kate flinched, “Not everything can be solved by runnin’, Kate, sometimes you’ve gotta chase.” 

“Well, maybe I don’t want to!” Kate shouted, tears streaming down her face, “Not everyone’s okay with the people they love-”

“Kate, go set the table,” Cathy shouted over them both, “Meg, cool off.” Dying. That was the word Kate was going to use and even though Cathy had stopped her, Meg heard it all the same. Kate saw Meg accepting what had happened to their friends as her not caring? It was like a punch to the gut, Meg physically faltering where she stood. Cathy took off after Kate, who rushed out of the barn, sobbing, and Tyler crossed the room to her. 

“I’m fine,” She was not fine. “We just,” Tyler wiped away her tears with his sleeve, concern evident on his face. “This barn brings up a lot of memories.” Tyler took a good look around, “Kate’s havin’ a hard time dealing with that.” 

“Just Kate?” Meg snorted, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. “Going to be honest, darlin’, didn’t think I’d walk in here to find you two arguing.” 

“Yeah, well, we’ve known each other for a decade and I’m pretty sure that was our first,” Meg shook her head. “God fucking dammit, I never shoulda left New Orleans.” 

“Hey, hey, hey, no need for that,” Tyler smoothed her bangs back, kissing her forehead. “Friends fight. Boone and I get into it all the time, you two will be okay.” Meg wrapped her arms around Tyler’s waist, resting her head against his chest. “I promise, darlin’, everything’s going to be okay.” 

“It’s not, Ty, you can be as charmin’ as you like but I’ve got to help Javi finish getting his data and go home. It’s the only helpful thing I can do while I’m here.” 

“About that…” Tyler stroked her back and Meg’s stomach dropped.

“He’s not helping people…is he?” Tyler began to fill her in on all the dirty details of Storm PAR’s involvement with Marshall Riggs and how they took advantage of people in distress to fund their research. All her earlier fight left her body with a great sigh, broken defeat replacing it. “That’s it, I’m going home.” Meg tried to pull away but Tyler held her tight, “Ty.”

“I thought you said running wasn’t an option,” 

“Then call me a fuckin’ hypocrite and take me to the airport.” Meg pushed one more time but Tyler still didn’t budge. “You can’t hug me until I change my mind, Ty, it’s not gonna work.”

“Darlin’,” Tyler kissed her forehead again. “If you still feel that way in the morning, I’ll take you to the airport.” Meg expected to feel relieved but instead, she felt even more dejected.

“How’s it going in here?” Cathy came back through the doors, “You cooled down enough for dinner, Meggy?”

“I’m goin’ home tomorrow,” Tyler finally let her pull away, only for Cathy to take Meg’s face in her hands. A disapproving look on her face.

“Unless you’re talking about visiting your mama, I don’t want to hear it, honey.” She opened her mouth to argue but Cathy steamrolled right over her. “What you’re going to do is eat some dinner and get some sleep, then you’re going to finish putting your boot up my daughter’s ass and finish what all of you started. Do you hear me, young lady?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Cathy turned her gaze to Tyler, pointing at him,

“And you, she tries to run, you stop her.” 

“Already on it, ma’am.” 

“Good, knew I liked you. Now come on, let’s eat.” 

It took less than a minute being back in each other’s presence for the girls to make up, throwing themselves at each other. Hugging and tearfully apologizing to each other, much to Cathy’s amusement and Tyler’s visible relief. Besides her great aunt Meg’s cooking, Cathy’s cooking was Meg’s favorite, and Cathy kept scooping more food onto her plate until she was ready to burst. 

Then the stories started, Cathy was hell-bent on embarrassing both girls and Tyler was all ears, teasing them both. His hand was resting on Meg’s knee, tethering her to him like a lifeline. Things soured quickly the second Cathy brought up their old project, Kate storming off in the most polite way possible. 

“Tyler, why don’t you go read through their old research, it’s in the white binder with the cloud on it.” 

“I don’t want to push my luck with your daughter ma’am.” Meg patted his thigh, giving him the silent approval, “If you’re sure.” 

“Come on, honey, I’ll wash, you dry.” 

Meg turned on some 90s country music on her phone to fill the silence while they washed the dinner plates, Cathy was the one to break the silence.

“He seems like a good man, Meggy.” Cathy handed her a dish to dry.

“He is,” She agreed. “Don’t tell me my dad’s got you bettin’ on my wedding too.” Cathy gave a little shrug, failing to fight a smile. “Busy bodies, I swear.” 

“What? You expect us to see you with a cowboy gentleman, who seems to love storms as much as you do, and not hear wedding bells?” Meg groaned, taking another plate to dry. 

“At least tell me you’re not in on Rabbit’s pool.” The silence was deafening, “Cathy!” 

“Well, there is only one bed in the guest room.” She didn’t know who she wanted to strangle first, Cathy or Rabbit. “And you and Kate shouldn’t be sharing a twin bed, the guest room has a full.” 

“You’re killin’ me. So, when I wasn’t looking you pulled my bag outta Kate’s room and put it with Tyler’s? Is that what you’re tellin’ me?” 

“I’ve got a hundred bucks on it happening before the end of storm season and no one said I had to play fair.” 

“Dirty, no good cheater,” Meg mumbled. They then settled into silence again, finishing the rest of the dishes.

“Has Kate been chasing again? She said she wasn’t.” Meg hummed, drying off the last dish and putting it away in the cabinet.

“Javi asked us to come down and help him collect data.” God, things had seemed so much simpler only a few days ago. “So, yeah, we’ve been out chasin’ again.” 

“I’m proud of you for coming back, Meggy, proud of all of you.” Meg leaned against the counter, staring up at the ceiling. There was a red mark in the center from where Parveen had eaten a Babybel Cheese, rolled the wax into a ball, and tossed it around. The little wax ball had stuck to the ceiling, the wax never fully coming off.

“I don’t know if I’m back yet, Cathy.” She tossed the dish rag over her shoulder with a sigh. “I want to help people and as much as I love chasin’, it ain’t as helpful as my job back in New Orleans. Those people,” She thought of the last patient she had transported before leaving. A ninety-year-old woman with chest pains, she had told Meg her whole life story in the back of the rig. She wasn’t scared of dying, no, June Bishop was perfectly content. Miss June had lived a long life, she had gotten married young and had three sons, all of whom went to serve in the military, she had lost everything in Katrina like so many others, and had lived long enough to see all of her grandchildren, and one great-grandchild born. Meg had held her hand the whole way to the hospital. “Those people I can help in a tangible way. I mean, if Kate,” Tears pricked her dry eyes. “If we could finish what we started, I think that’s the only thing besides a funeral that could get me to come back.” 

Cathy gathered her up in a hug, both of them leaning against the counter. After some time passed, Kate came down from her room, and without a word she joined them in the embrace. A little while later, Meg shot off a text to Lily.

Meg: How’s everything going?

Lily: Boone’s a bit butt hurt but he’ll get over it - you?

Meg: Touch and go

Tyler seemed surprised to find Meg brushing her teeth in the bathroom attached to the spare bedroom when she spotted him in the mirror. 

“Not that I’m complaining but I figured you’d be sharing a bed with Kate,” Tyler leaned against the door jamb of the bathroom and there was something so domestic about the whole situation that caught Meg off guard. She’d had plenty of boyfriends over the years, none lasting more than a month before either she got tired of them or they got tired of her. Sleepovers with men weren’t something she was used to though, even in a relationship she liked to sleep alone, kicking her dates out at the end of the night.

“I did too,” She replied after spitting and rinsing her mouth. “I’ve got to wash my face if you want to get changed.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” He closed the door and when he was done, opened it again, watching her dry her face with a soft, pink towel. “Are you okay with the sleeping arrangements, darlin’, or should I take the couch?” 

“I’m fine if you are, I am going to give Cathy an earful for it in the morning though.” Tyler followed her to the bed, claiming the side closest to the door. 

“Sounds like there’s more to it than a lumpy couch.” 

“Oh, there is,” Meg huffed, relaxing into the pillows, breathing in the scent of air-dried laundry. “My family’s got all sorts of bets running on us and Cathy’s bein’ a cheat.” Tyler shifted onto his side and she could feel his eyes on her while she stared at the ceiling. 

“Bets that involve us sharing a bed?” 

“Yes, sir,” She drawled sarcastically, turning off the lamp on her side of the bed. “It’s embarrassin’.” 

“Well,” Tyler sighed, “I think if I’m being bet on, I should know what for.” Why? Meg closed her eyes. Why was her family like this?

“They bet on how long, Jesus Christ,” She took a deep breath, “They bet on how long it would take me to, and I quote, ride the cowboy.” Tyler, thank God, didn’t say anything but he did chuckle and she could feel his eyes on her. Meg wanted the bed to open up and swallow her whole, her face burning with embarrassment.

“And the other bet?” Meg took another long, deep breath before answering.

“They’re bettin’ on us getting married, Arkansas,” She flipped to face away from him. “Now go to sleep.” Tyler’s hand gripped her waist, flipping her to her other side so they were face to face. “I’m not talking about this, Ty.” 

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” He squeezed her hip, giving her a soft smile that made her heart beat like crazy. He was backlit by the lamp on his side of the bed, a soft, yellow light highlighting him in an angelic way. “You scrunch your nose like this,” He imitated her and he looked adorable. Meg giggled, bopping his nose.

“Stop, I’m trying to be mad and you actin’ sweet ain’t helping.” He shrugged,

“Well excuse me for not wanting my girl to be mad.” His girl. Those words weighed on her chest like a cat curling in for a nap, warm and comforting. 

“You are taking this whole thing about my family bettin’ on us having sex and getting married a little too well,” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you not sayin’?” He blushed, rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb. “Tyler I-don’t-know-your-middle-name-Owens, tell me.” 

“Michael,” He muttered. Meg tilted his head up with two fingers under his chin. “That’s my middle name.” 

“And mine’s Marie, now spill it.” 

“There may or may not be a similar bet going with the group,” Of course there was. 

“Bet, as in singular?” He nodded, “Which one do they have goin’?” Tyler’s blush deepened.

“Well, darlin’,” Tyler sighed, smiling sweetly. “Boone’s been planning our wedding since you tried to pool the wool over my eyes when we first met.” He cupped her face and she mirrored him, her hand resting on his cheek. “So they’re betting on the other part.” There were two ways Meg could go with this conversation, serious or teasing, and she’d be damned if she did anything serious while wearing Kate’s Hello Kitty sleep pants from high school.

“Well,” Meg stroked Tyler’s stubbled cheek. “Tell Boone I want an October weddin’ and he’s welcome at it whether you’re there or not.” Tyler shook with laughter, tugging her so she was head first in his chest like they had slept the night before.

“Oh, I’m gonna be there, darlin’,” He kissed the top of her head. “Crying while your daddy walks you down the aisle to me.” So much for avoiding serious conversation. Meg expected to feel a sense of fear or at least anxiety thinking about marrying Tyler but instead, she found herself smiling. His cologne was lingering on his sleep shirt and he was oh so warm wrapped around her. She could see him standing at the altar all dressed up in a suit and tie, Boone behind him as best man, and Preacher beside him ready to officiate like he had promised to when she was little.

“Boone share any of these wedding plans with you?” Meg slipped her leg between his, bringing herself just a little bit closer to him. “Tell me everything.” Tyler began stroking her back.

“He wants to do it outside, said he thinks you’d like to be where you can see the sky.” Boone knew her well, that’s exactly how she wanted to get married, not inside of some stuffy church. “Dani’s picking out dresses she and Lily won’t mind wearing as your bridesmaids, they’ve got one for Kate too.” 

“Sounds like they’ve got the whole thing planned out. Lily in charge of the rings?” 

“Yes, ma’am. They even roped Ben into picking out table settings and invitations, he complains but is secretly over the moon.” Tyler’s hand moved to her hair, massaging her neck. Meg groaned, not realizing how much tension had been lingering there until that exact moment.

“That feels good, Ty.” She felt herself getting sleepier, relaxing more into Tyler’s hold with each passing moment. “Keep tellin’ me about our wedding.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” He kissed her hair again. “The biggest argument is what kind of flowers to get. Boone’s a romantic so he wants roses.” That made her giggle,

“Why ain’t I surprised?” 

“Shh, baby,” Tyler teased, kissing her hair again. “You’re supposed to be falling asleep.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Arkansas,” Meg sassed half-heartedly. Tyler’s ministrations paused for a moment before he gently pulled her head back by her hair. He was fixing her with one of those listen-to-me looks she’d seen on her mama’s face a thousand times before, his eyes the color of greenage before a big storm. Staring into them, she wondered if her favorite color had ever truly been yellow, or if it had been green all along and she just hadn’t found the right shade until now. 

“Darlin’,” His fingers tightened their grip just a little, giving Meg a jolt of pain that only brought pleasure. “Will you please hush that pretty little mouth of yours and let me talk?” She wanted to sass him again, see what he would do but when she opened her mouth nothing but a yawn came out. He must’ve taken that as a yes, bringing her face back into his chest. He was lucky he was cute enough to get away with manhandling her like that. “Dani’s vote is on sunflowers but Ben and Lily think that lilies would be better.” Meg made an inquisitive noise, wanting to know what Tyler thought. “I’ve got a soft spot for wildflowers, especially daisies. My mama used to keep a vase of them on the counter next to the window.” Meg snaked a hand under the back of his shirt, humming in approval. “I’ll take your freezing hands under my shirt as a yes to the wildflowers.” 

Tyler kept talking about color schemes and Dexter’s thoughts on what to cater for dinner. How Ben had insisted they have live music instead of a DJ and the way Boone wanted to use bandanas as pocket squares, all while Meg drifted off to sleep. 

She woke to her phone ringing, AC/DC’s Highway to Hell breaking the silence of the night. Tyler’s arms were firm around her waist making it hard for her to retrieve the device from the bedside table.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” She groaned. Tyler didn’t budge from his position curled around her. The man, she was learning, could sleep like the dead. But she would bet he’d be wide awake if she even thought of the word tornado.

“Hey, Honey Buns. How’s the storm hunting?” Nick must’ve been grabbing beignets, she could hear the familiar sounds of Cafe du Monde in the background in the late hours of the night.

“It’s good,” She decided to keep the life and death details to herself for now, not in the right mindset for a lecture. “How’s my baby, you treatin’ her right?” 

“She’s purrin’ like a cougar in a college bar.” Meg chuckled, “Hadn’t heard from ya so I thought I’d check in. Cecilia misses you something awful.” Cecilia was Nick’s wife of seven years, an ER nurse at University Hospital. She and Meg would sometimes get lunch together when their days off aligned but Meg knew who was really missing her. 

“Yeah, I miss you too,” Nick laughed, commenting on her ego. “The storms out here have been crazy.” Just like she predicted, Tyler stirred.

“Storm? Is that Boone?” Meg rolled her eyes, kissing him on the chin.

“It’s just Nick, go back to sleep, Sweetie Pie.” And then he was out like a light, she shook her head at him.

“Meg Marie Harding, you’ve got a man in your bed?” Nick jokingly scolded her like an older brother. “You ain’t supposed to be doin’ that outta wedlock.” 

“Says the man who tried to set me up with that fire fighter who ended up having a wife.” 

“Not my finest moment, I’ll admit,” He chuckled. “Well, Honey Buns, I’ll let you get back to sinnin’.” 

“Meanin’ your order’s ready?” Nick hung up on her without answering and she laughed softly, choosing not to fight against Tyler’s hold, putting the phone under her pillow.

She’d be back in New Orleans soon enough, riding around in the rig with Nick, going wherever dispatch sent them. But for the first time, thinking about her life there didn’t feel right, her heart constricting the point of physical pain.

Meg traced Tyler’s jaw with her fingertips, then his nose, the arch of his brow, and his bottom lip, the pain getting worse with every second. Helping people was her job, one that she loved and felt called to, but the thought of leaving Tyler was breaking her heart.

“Tyler Michael Owens,” She whispered, watching for any signs that he was awake and seeing none. “I think I just might be fallin’ in love with you.” Meg pressed a feathersoft kiss to his lips, it lasted a second, maybe less, but she felt more in that split second than she had with any of the men Nick had set her up with in the past. 

“Again, baby,” Tyler whispered, eyes blinking open. “Please.” He sounded so needy and desperate, matching her own desire for him. Meg didn’t hesitate to brush her lips against his. Tyler tilted his head into the kiss, kissing her soundly, leaving not an ounce of doubt in her mind that she loved him. It had been less than a week but Meg felt like she had known him her entire life. He made her feel safe, comfortable, and seen. The way he held her at night and couldn’t keep his hand off her leg during the day, the way he listened to her like there was no one else around, and most importantly, the way he treated her with kindness and respect. “Nick okay?” Tyler asked once they came up for air, voice raspy.

“He’s fine, just checkin’ on me.” Tyler hummed, giving her a peck on the lips once, twice, three times more. 

“And how are you doing, baby?” 

“Never better,” Meg kissed his chest, snuggling back into what was quickly becoming her favorite sleeping position. 

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @football1921 @katiemcrae @emma8895eb @itsdesiree86 Want to be added to this list? Just ask!

Next Chapter

[sequinsmile-x]

I’d be so so keen to read something about Em coming out as bisexual to Aaron (aware you’ve had an ask for this I just want to stress the interest 🫶🏼)

It’s something I struggle with myself and the validation of being bisexual is something that’s very real. It would be lovely to read something like this as something that seems realistic for Em. The way you write is so beautiful and intricate and I know you’d do a wonderful job.

For anyone else reading this - you are valid whoever you are and whoever you choose to love <3

Happy Fridayyyyy!!!

Hi bestie <3

I've been asked to do this a few times, and as a bi girl myself it is very close to my heart. I wanted to make sure I did it justice so waited until it felt right and now really does feel like the time. It is also coming to the end of Bi Visibility week, so here we are!

This feels oddly personal, almost like I'm putting out some pages of a diary out there for people to read, so I hope this is as cathartic to read for those who wanted it as it was to write.

As always, let me know what you think, I'm nervous about this one because it feels important!

-x-

The Past is Never Far

She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it. It was, after all, not the biggest secret she had kept.

Emily and Aaron walk into an ex of hers when they are out on a date, and it prompts her to tell him something she's not told him before.

Warnings: Coming out (mentions of past bad experiences doing so)

Words: 3.2k

Read over on Ao3, or the below the cut

Emily hums contentedly as she squeezes Aaron’s hand, her eyes catching his as she looks up at him and smiles, “This is nice.” 

He smiles back, relaxed and content and handsome in the fading light as he lifts her hand to kiss her knuckles, “It is,” he replies, kissing her knuckles again before he tucks their joint hands into his coat pocket to protect them from the chill in the air, “We’re near that ice cream place you like, we could get some on the way back to the car?” 

Date night was something they’d established early on in their relationship. They had so little time just the two of them so it was important to them both to have this one night every month where they could have just that. Jack would spend the night at Jessica’s, often pouting that he wanted to come with them too, something Emily and Aaron would salve with love and assurances they’d all have breakfast together the next day, and the two of them would go to one of their favourite restaurants. The nice weather was fading, summer disappearing into Autumn. It was Emily’s favourite time of year. Not because her birthday was coming up, or because Jack and Aaron’s were too, but because of the cool air and the sun on her face. The ever-present reminder in the wind about the beauty of change as the colour of the leaves started to fade to orange and gold. 

Aaron knew she loved this time of year, so he’d been easily convinced to go on a walk with her around the block before they returned to his car and back to their apartment. She’d moved in with him and Jack recently, the apartment that was once just theirs hers now too, and they were looking for a house. A place they could buy and call home, something they both wanted so desperately and had been denied for so long. 

She smiles, leaning in so her shoulder bumps against his, “It’s too cold for ice cream.” 

Aaron chuckles and kisses her temple. He stops them on the street, the hand not linked through hers on her hip as he guides her backwards so they don’t block the sidewalk. He leans in to kiss her, “You’re the one who told me it’s never too cold for ice cream,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers once more before he removes his hand from her hip and digs through his other pocket, smiling in victory as he pulls out a pair of her gloves, “Plus, I came prepared. Your hands won’t get cold and you can still have Rocky Road - the best of both worlds.” 

She beams at him and cups his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss before she rests her forehead against his, “I love you.” 

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the corner of her mouth before he pulls back and they continue walking down the street, content and happy in each other's company. 

He buys them ice cream once they make it to the store, a double scoop of Rocky Road for her in a cone and one scoop of coffee in a tub for him. He chuckles at her as a drip of ice cream falls onto her gloves and she narrows her eyes at him, making a point of maintaining eye contact as she licks the remnants of it from the ridge of the cone, her smile wide as she watches him swallow thickly. She’s about to say something, to add to the teasing, when she hears a familiar voice behind her, one she hadn’t heard in years. 

“Emily Prentiss?” 

Her eyes go wide as she turns around, uncharacteristically caught out as she clears her throat, scrambling for something to say as she comes face to face with a piece of her past she hadn’t expected to see again, “Cat.” 

Cat chuckles as she steps forward, pulling a still shell-shocked Emily into a hug, “I thought it was you, Em,” she says, squeezing her before she steps back, “It’s been a long time. 15 years maybe?” 

“Closer to 20,” Emily laughs, the shake to it grabbing Aaron’s attention as he watches the interaction between the two women. Emily looks at him and curses herself internally for getting so flustered, “Aaron, this is Catherine Thomas, Cat, we…” she swallows thickly, her lips pressed together to keep the whole truth back, “We go way back,” she smiles as she turns to Cat, sees a spark in her eyes she hadn’t thought about in years, “Cat, this is Aaron. My boyfriend.” 

Cat smiles and holds her hand out for Aaron and he shakes it, “Lovely to meet you, Aaron.” 

“You too,” he replies, looking back and forth between the two women, curious at his girlfriend’s reaction, at the way her shoulders are slightly tight as she watches them interact. 

“Anyway,” Cat says, looking back at Emily, “My wife is just getting some ice cream. I can’t believe you still come here after all these years.” 

Emily nods, “Best ice cream in the city.” 

Cat looks up at Aaron, “Emily introduced me to this place when we first met,” she says, smiling fondly at a memory that was just theirs, “And I bring my wife and kids here now too.” 

Aaron smiles, “My son loves it here too.” 

“Cat?” 

They all turn at the sound of another woman’s voice to see her standing there with two pre-teens, both of them looking relatively irritated at being forced to spend the evening out with their parents, her expression curious as she looks at her wife. Cat nods and indicates she’ll be over in a minute before she turns back to Emily and Aaron.

“Well,” she says, “I’ve been summoned. It was good to see you, Emily. You seem well,” she hugs her again, something Emily returns, careful not to drip ice cream on her back.

“Nice to see you too, Cat,” she says, smiling as she pulls back, her gaze falling on her family behind them, “Your family is beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” Cat beams before she looks at Aaron, “Nice to meet you, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he replies. They watch as Cat walks back to her family, gratefully taking her ice cream from her wife as she makes it to her side, saying something they can’t hear, “She seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says, feeling out of sorts from the flashback to a past life, something from so long ago it felt like it had happened to someone else. A part of her she kept secret, even from Aaron, “She is.” 

“Shall we go home?” He offers, his gaze on her as she smiles at him, a tenseness to it that she doesn’t hide well as her eyes meet his. She nods, shaking her head to rid herself of the feeling that had settled over her the last few minutes. The strange mix of nostalgia for her past when she was young and unburdened by responsibility and everything to come, and happiness for someone she’d once loved, all whilst she stood next to the person she knew was the love of her life, the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. 

“Yeah,” she says, smiling as she presses her lips together, her focus back on her ice cream as she eats some more, “Let’s go home.” 

___

She thinks about it for a couple of days.

She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it, her relationship with Cat and the other women she’d dated over the years, because it wasn’t relevant. Since she’d come back to DC, still on uneven ground after being Lauren Reynolds and being with Ian, she’d only dated men. It wasn’t a purposeful act, not something she’d particularly tried to do, but it had happened. So it meant telling her friends, her new family, seem unimportant. 

It was, after all, not the biggest secret she was keeping from them.

She’d never even told her mother. Sure that, at best, her reaction would be to tell her it was ‘just a phase.’ At worst, she was sure her mother’s rather selective catholicism would make itself known, and she didn’t want to put herself through it. Instead, she kept the few relationships she’d had with women from her, and the one time she’d met Cat she’d introduced her as a friend, something that she hadn’t known at the time would start to unravel their relationship. The first pull at the thread that held them together, Cat’s confidence in her sexuality so much stronger than Emily’s had been at the time. Cat had been out and proud the entire time she’d known her, and, in the long run, their difference in how they approached it would never have worked. 

There were times when Emily had considered telling the team. When she’d make eyes at a woman across a bar when they were all out together, but she’d always chicken out, even with her tongue loosened and her cheeks warmed by tequila. People, mostly ex-boyfriends, had reacted poorly before. Either telling her that bi-sexual wasn’t a real thing, dismissing something she’d always known to be true about herself, or over-sexualising it, a familiar look in their eyes as they saw how her sexuality could benefit them. 

After Paris, she decided she’d simply keep it to herself. Her friend's view of her had been changed anyway, the person they thought she was dead and gone, buried in the grave that had always been empty. She couldn’t bear to do it again, to once again change what they thought they knew about her, even for something like this, so she didn’t. Even when she started dating Aaron, sweet, kind loving, Aaron who had never been anything but supportive and unflinching whenever she told him anything she hesitated.

Ever since they’d walked into Cat, she felt the need to tell him. To uncover this last final part of herself that she’d kept hidden away. He knew everything about Ian. He knew about Rome. It was time he knew about this too. 

Even though she wants to tell him, she feels nervous. A familiar kind of anxiety settles in her chest as she snuggles up on the couch with him one night, determined to not put it off any longer. Jack was in bed, safe and asleep in his room down the hall, and the TV was on, a movie they’d watched countless times before fading into the background as she sinks into her boyfriend’s side. She presses her face against his shoulder, breathing him in, breathing in the last few moments of how things were before she changed them forever. 

“I need to tell you something,” she says, her words partially muffled by his shirt before she pulls back, her brows furrowed as she corrects herself, “Actually, I don’t need to tell you. But I want to.” 

He watches her carefully for a moment before he nods, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, ensuring she has all of his attention. He turns so he’s facing her, his knee skimming her thigh as she turns too, her focus on the top of the couch. She tugs nervously at a loose thread, a nervous habit he’s grateful distracts her from her cuticles. He thinks of the ring he has tucked away in his sock drawer, of how he pictures her twisting it around her finger when she is nervous or worried. He reaches out for her, frowning when she jumps ever so slightly when his hand lands on her knee. He squeezes gently, smiling even though she doesn’t look up at him.

“You can tell me anything, you know that,” he assures her, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she continues to pull at the thread on the couch. 

“You…” she swallows thickly, her eyes closed as she trips over the words she’d practised in her head for days, “You remember that woman we bumped into the other day, Cat?” She asks, her eyes darting up to his face as he nods, “She…she wasn’t just a friend. She was my girlfriend. We dated for almost a year when we were both in college,” she blows out a breath, her chest shuddering with it, feeling somehow lighter and heavier at the same time with the admission, “I’m Bisexual.” 

Her words hang in the air around them and she holds her breath, waiting for his reaction, unable to bring herself to look at him, worried about what she’d find. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, his words even and calm, his softness so jarring she looks up at him fast enough it cricks her neck, a pain she barely feels as he carries on, “And thank you for trusting me - I know that can’t have been easy.” 

She chokes on a humourless laugh, “Thats…that’s it?” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks in a way she loves, and he squeezes her knee, “Did you…want a different reaction?” 

“No,” she replies, shaking her head, choking on something she can’t name - a sound between a sob and a laugh caught in her chest, “No, not at all. I’ve just never had someone react so…well before.” 

He furrows his brow, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 

She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, wiping away a tear she hadn’t expected until she felt it on her cheek, “I once had an ex-boyfriend ask me if it meant we could have a threesome,” she says, scrunching her nose up at the memory. She looks at Aaron and smiles at the pure horror on his face, his brow furrowing in indignation for a past version of her, “I broke up with him when it became very clear he already had a list of women who’d be ‘up for it’ at the ready.” 

He clenches his jaw, “I’m sorry he reacted like that,” he replies, “You deserved better than that. You deserve better.” 

She presses her lips together and shakes her head lovingly as more tears slip past her lash line, “Well, I have better now,” she says, playing her hand over his on her knee, linking their fingers together, “Do you have any questions?” 

“Have you dated any other women?” He asks softly, curious more than anything, and she nods, running her thumb back and forth over his hand. 

“Yeah, a couple of others but none as serious as my relationship with Cat. And I’ve had a few dates and drunken hook-ups,” she replies, her cheeks burning with embarrassment she knows she shouldn't feel. 

“Have you always known?”

She nods, “Since I was pretty young,” she smiles her lips pressed together at the memory, “Let’s just say, The Dukes of Hazzard was a bit of an awakening. Luke Duke was hot…and so was Daisy Duke.” 

He smiles and squeezes her hand, lifting it to kiss her knuckles, “What made you tell me now?” 

She blows out a slow breath, “After we walked into Cat, I realised I didn’t want to hide it from you anymore. All the reasons I had for doing so suddenly didn’t make any sense.” 

He pulls her into a hug, his arm tight around her as he kisses her cheek, “I’m glad you told me,” he says, smiling as she turns her head to kiss him.

“I’m glad I did too,” she replies, nudging her nose against his, “I…I was so worried it would change how you looked at me.” 

He frowns and pulls back to look at her, shaking his head as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Never,” he assures her, “Nothing ever could. Especially this.” 

She furrows her brow and tilts her head at him, “What do you mean?” 

He sighs as he chooses his words carefully, “You’ve always been bi, sweetheart, right? It’s been part of who you are as long as I’ve known you, and it’s been part of you as long as I’ve loved you,” he smiles as he reaches out to wipe away a tear from her cheek, “So it doesn’t change anything because it’s always been who you are, even if you hadn’t told me.” 

She leans forward, her forehead against his neck as she breathes him in again, the world the same as it had been before she’d told him, but somehow different too. His understanding of her deeper but everything else unchanged. She takes a moment to hold him close, and she plays everything he’d said back in her head. A conversation she’d remember again and again as a reminder of how much he loved her, how well he loved her. Something she thinks that, after everything, she might just deserve. She furrows her brow as she thinks about it, the way he’d said part of all those wonderful things catching in her chest. Aaron was purposeful in everything. Not calculated, but purposeful. He never said anything he didn’t mean, and she narrows her eyes at him as she pulls back. 

“Wait…you said ‘even if I hadn’t told you…” she tilts her head as he clears his throat, avoiding her eye contact, “Oh my god - you knew?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head with the hand not tangled up in hers, “Sweetheart-”

She scoffs and lightly hits his chest, her cheeks burning at the thought that she’d got herself so worked up over something he apparently already knew, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He smiles at her indignation, catching her hand before she slaps his chest again for laughing at her. He kisses her knuckles and smiles fondly at her, disarming her ability to be annoyed at him so easily she’s annoyed at herself. 

“It wasn’t my place to, Em,” he says, “It’s your story to tell.” 

She knows he’s right and she huffs out a breath, her cheek against his shoulder as she pouts in a way she’d deny if he brought it up, “How the hell did you know?” 

“As someone who has been in love with you for much longer than I care to admit, I paid close attention to your interactions with anyone I thought might be flirting with you,” he smiles as she tilts her head to look at him, “It didn’t take long to realise you have chemistry with literally every person you ever meet.” 

She suppresses a laugh, her lips pressed together as one more wave of anxiety rolls through her, “And you don’t mind?” 

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her, his hand on her cheek to hold her in place, “If anything, it just makes me feel even more lucky that out of everyone you could be with you chose to be with me.” 

She sighs but it catches in her chest, love for him filling her lungs so fast she can’t catch her breath, “Oh, no honey,” she says, placing her hand over his on her cheek, shaking her head as he catches a tear the moment it slips free from her lashes, “I’m the lucky one.” 

[darkmxgician]

Said & Done- Part 1

After meeting an alluring stranger you fall fast, not realising that he’s about to pull you back in to the dangerous world you’ve tried so hard to escape from.

pairing: fem!reader x noah. tags: swearing, just fluff here

word count: 1.6k

story song: burning out

taglist: @sorrowsofsilence @angelsdevils @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @montgomery-929496. lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

18+ below the cut

I wake up covered in sweat. The last embers of my nightmare tugging me into a sense of fear and dread. I couldn’t tell what was real and my fight or flight started to kick in. Adrenaline began to course through my body, making me aware of every shadow in my dark bedroom. Sleep definitely wasn’t going to come to me again anytime soon, so I pulled myself out of bed and changed into my gym clothes. Rushing to get away from the silence of my home. Stepping out into the cool night air was blissful on my sweat soaked skin and I savoured it whilst I walked to my car. The streets were quiet during the drive, my ancient car stereo playing the mixtape I had in earlier, I’d listened to it so many times it just faded into the background. Thankfully the gym is always empty at 3am, I chose this specific gym for that reason, even though it’s further from my house. I had already gotten a workout in today, but the dreams that haunt me always leave me feeling restless, with a need to purge some of the energy from my system. I use my keycard to get in as reception is closed, I usually make a beeline for the weights and then follow that with a quick run on the treadmill, but tonight feels different. I need to hit something, so I make my way up the stairs, the rooms above the main floor have various equipment, and I head straight for the one with the punching bags. 

I push open the double doors and stop in my tracks. I’ve never come across anyone else here at this time before, but my luck has just run out. And it’s not just anyone, it’s the tall dark stranger who has been watching me since I started coming here over a year ago. Give by sleep token is blasting from a speaker as he does push ups with one arm behind his back. He looks up at me, through his sweat drenched hair that shields the full force of his beauty. He stops and slowly, gracefully pushes himself up so he’s kneeling, his depthless brown eyes locked on me, assessing me. My mouth goes dry, I’ve never seen him this close before, I can’t help but study the tattoos that adorn his shoulders, arms, his bare chest, and even his neck. He continues to look at me, panting from his workout that I interrupted. My palms start to sweat, “s-sorry, there’s never usually anyone in here at this time” I stammer, as he raises a brow at my accent. The stranger stands in one smooth motion, and covers the space between us in two steps. Suddenly he’s towering over me, his large frame seems to suck all the light out of the room and I take a shaky breath and look up. He cocks his head to one side, his wet hair following the movement, “don’t you usually workout during the day?”. His American accent was rich and deep, I could feel the bass from his voice in my very bones. I stopped shying away from his stare and looked up, “I-I couldn’t sleep. I need to burn off some, energy, before I can even attempt it again”, cursing myself for stuttering I manage to keep my eyes on his, the intensity of his gaze making my stomach do backflips, I couldn’t help but smile at the stranger. And when he smiled back, I knew I was done for. 

“I’m Noah”, he smiles down at me, “y/n” I reply. I’m having to stop myself from grinning, I’ve never felt this connected to someone I just met before. I could feel my cheeks starting to go red, I have to force myself to look away so he doesn’t notice. “You like sleep token?”, I nod to the speaker in the corner, listening to the intro to gods, at least I didn’t stutter again. I have to try and find neutral ground with the stranger. I need to know him, I feel drawn to him, like there’s a thread between our two bodies, pulling me in. I dare to look up when he doesn’t answer, and he’s just staring at me, his smile keeps getting brighter, his eyes almost glowing. I’ve been in here for all of five minutes and I’m losing it over a complete stranger, what is wrong with me? He reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear, bringing his hand under my chin and forcing me to look up. “I thought you were beautiful from afar, y/n, but up close I can’t help but stare. You’re captivating”. We’re stood so close, his touch sending electric currents through my entire body. I lose every thought in my head. It’s not just physical attraction, and trust me, that’s there. If any other man had just said to that to me, I’d laugh in their face. Why did it make me want to swoon when he says it? I can’t help but lean into his touch, his hands are calloused, his fingers stroking my skin, so smooth in comparison. My eyes flutter shut at his caress and I almost purr, putting a hand on his chest for balance as I force my eyes open again. The music goes off and is replaced by a ringtone, interrupting our embrace. “Fuck”. Noah rests his forehand on mine for a moment, and he’s gone, sighing as he releases me. He stalks over to the speaker, grabbing his phone, “yeah. I told you, I’m at the gym. I can’t right now. For fuck sake, Nick. Yeah. I’ll be 10 minutes”. I realise I was watching and listening to his private conversion so I quickly pull my phone up. Opening the settings app so it looks like I’m scrolling and texting. “I have to go”, he makes his way back over to me and scoops by chin up again, more forceful this time. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a while y/n, and I believe something wanted us to cross paths tonight”, he takes a deep breath, “meet me here, same time tomorrow?”. I blink in shock, he wants to see me again? I try not to make a habit of coming to the gym at this time, but seeing him is all the motivation I need. “Okay, sure”, I smile up at him. “Good girl”, he replies, so quietly I almost miss it. I almost go slack. “Until tomorrow, y/n”, he places a light kiss on my forehead, grabs his belongings, and stalks out of the gym. What the fuck just happened?

The next day goes by agonisingly slow, I can’t concentrate on a thing. I keep checking my phone, even knowing in the blazing sunlight that it’s not 3am yet. I try to distract myself and keep busy, working on some unfinished paintings, reading, none of it works. I give in and go to my room, hoping to use sleep to carry me towards my time with Noah. 

I wake with a start, the alarm on my phone blaring next to me. 1AM. I gave myself enough time to make a little effort, working my hair into plaits and tying the ends in twin buns at the base of my skull. I curl my eyelashes and dab a small amount of concealer under my eyes, and rub in some lip liner and gloss on my lips. The time is passing too fast now, I put on my workout clothes and rush out to my car, feeling both nervous and excited.

The gym is quiet as usual, I presume Noah wants to meet in the workout room upstairs, so I make my way up. I try to slow my pace as I walk through the double doors, where 24 hours ago I met the strange man that has my heart racing. He’s sat cross legged on one of the mats on the floor, my eyes instantly find his as he looks up. “Y/n, you came”, my stomach does a flip at the sight of him, like my body forgot how beautiful he is, what he makes me feel. He strides over to me and pulls me into his arms, “I didn’t think you’d show”. I melt into him. Like I could just stay home, I’ve always been curious, and he’s alluring and mysterious, nothing could keep me from him. “I did tell you I would”, he chuckles at that and pulls back so he can look at me. All my nerves from last night have vanished, I feel confident enough to ask, “so why did you want me to come?”. My intrigue always getting the better of me. “I wanted to see you again, I thought maybe we could workout together?”. I raise my eyebrows at him. “Not like that” he chuckles again, “I’m not hitting on you, I just thought we could get to know each other whilst we train, I could use the company”. He looks sheepish at the omission. He wants me to train with him? He’s twice the size of me, both in height and width. How could I ever keep up? “I’d like that, but why me? Surely there’s plenty of guys here who could help you, who are more equipped than me”. I feel nervous again all of a sudden, I'm physically fit but there's no way I could be on the same level as him. My thoughts race, until he smirks at me, his eyes sweeping down my body, “but none who look like you, y/n”. And he grins again, as irresistible as last night. Who could say no to that? 

And so we begin. 

[koyagifs]

shattered trust

pairing: Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Hufflepuff!reader au: harry potter genre: angst | fluff | Summary: as the years go by, you never noticed the dark side of your lover.

Warning(s):

Some cursing, their ages will be aged up a bit! This fic is not meant to reflect how Ateez are in real life. This is a fanfic.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 |

st masterlist | ateez masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖☾

Sitting in your compartment, Hongjoong by your side as Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho sat across from you. The ride back to Hogwarts was always your favorite, the joy of seeing your friends always warms your heart. Hongjoong laid asleep on your lap, his gentle breathing creating a calming rhythm. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, a stark contrast to the lively chatter of Seonghwa, Mingi, and Yunho across from you.

“Looks like he’s finally out,” Seonghwa teased, glancing at Hongjoong with a grin.

“Someone had to keep him up during the Sorting Feast,” you replied, brushing a strand of his hair from his face.

Mingi leaned forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “You mean you were just talking his ear off? Poor guy!”

Yunho laughed, shaking his head. “Can’t blame him for dozing off. It’s been a long day.”

As the train sped through the countryside, the scenery blurring past, you felt a warm sense of belonging. You leaned back, letting the rhythmic clatter of the train soothe you. The anticipation of a new school year filled the air, and despite the challenges ahead, you knew you wouldn’t face them alone.

“What do you think the new year will bring?” you mused aloud, breaking the comfortable silence.

Seonghwa shrugged, a thoughtful expression on his face. “More adventures, I hope. And hopefully fewer detentions.”

“Yeah, right,” Mingi scoffed. “With Wooyoung around, we’ll probably have a record number.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Not if we stick together!”

Yunho nodded in agreement, and as you all exchanged hopeful glances, you felt a surge of excitement. This year better be less dramatic you thought, remembering the drama that happened since Harry Potter came to school.

You shuddered slightly at the memory of last year’s escapades, from surprise Quidditch matches to that chaos involving a rogue bludger and a rather angry hippogriff. “Honestly, I’m hoping for some peace this time,” you said, shaking your head.

“Peace? In this school?” Seonghwa chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Good luck with that!”

“Hey, we could at least try!” you countered, your smile returning. “Besides, maybe we’ll get some new classes that’ll keep us busy. I heard there’s a new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Mingi perked up at that. “Really? What do you think they’ll be like?”

“Hopefully not another one who goes mad halfway through the year,” Yunho added, crossing his arms.

“True, that would be nice,” you agreed, glancing at Hongjoong, who remained blissfully unaware of the conversation, still sleeping peacefully. “But whatever happens, at least we have each other.”

The train rattled on, and you caught glimpses of the lush greenery outside. You could almost feel the magic in the air, a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. The thought of another year filled with spells, laughter, and unexpected surprises made your heart race.

Just then, Mingi leaned back, pretending to think deeply. “You know, if we’re going to have more adventures, we should definitely come up with a team name!”

“A team name?” you echoed, amused.

“Absolutely! Something cool and epic!” he insisted, gesturing dramatically.

“Alright, let’s hear it,” you challenged, leaning in with a grin.

“Um… how about ‘The Daring Duelists’?” he suggested, striking a heroic pose.

You all burst into laughter, and even Hongjoong stirred slightly, blinking awake to the joyful chaos. “What’s going on?” he mumbled, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Just discussing our epic team name!” you said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Please tell me it’s better than ‘The Daring Duelists,’” he chuckled, stretching his arms.

“Let’s just say we’ll work on it,” Yunho replied, a teasing glint in his eye.

With that, the conversation flowed seamlessly, filled with laughter and friendly banter, as the Hogwarts Express carried you closer to another unforgettable year that is unbeknownst to you all.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁

You sat beside your fellow Hufflepuffs as the sorting feast, conversing this years plan to win the house cup. Feeling a pair of eyes, you looked around until you noticed Hongjoong eyeing you. You waved, causing him to blush as he noticed that he was caught. As you waved at Hongjoong, his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and he quickly looked down at his plate, trying to act nonchalant. You noticed Mingi confusion before he looked where Hongjoong was just staring at before he chuckled, shaking his head as he began to tease Hongjoong. You couldn’t help but giggle at how easily he was flustered.

A felt a tap from behind, turning to see Yeosang, Seonghwa, Jongho and Wooyoung a smirk plastered on their face as they noticed the interaction between you and Hongjoong.

“Looks like we’ve ruined a moment,” Yeosang said, his smirk growing as he leaned towards you.

You turned to face them, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flooding through you. " clearly you Gryffindors have no idea what you're talking about"

They laughed as Wooyoung put a hand over his heart dramatically. “Ouch! A direct hit!”

“Don’t worry, we’re just here to support your blossoming romance,” Yeosang teased, leaning closer. “Consider us your cheer squad!”

“More like a bunch of gossips,” you shot back, grinning despite yourself.

Jongho piped up, “We’re just trying to help you out! Imagine how epic it would be if you two ended up together and we had the inside scoop!”

“Yeah, imagine the stories we could tell!” Wooyoung added, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can already picture the headlines: ‘Hufflepuff Heartthrob Caught in a Love Triangle!’”

You shook your head, laughing. “You all are impossible.”

“Just remember,” Seonghwa said, a playful glint in his eye, “we’re here to make sure you don’t miss your chance. We’ve got your back!”

As the laughter continued, you felt a warm glow of friendship surrounding you. But then you noticed Hongjoong glancing your way again, his expression more curious than before. For a moment, your heart raced at the thought of him actually being interested.

“Okay, okay, enough!” you finally declared, trying to regain some composure.

They laughed again before they turned back to their table, Dumbledore standing up to give his usual speech before declaring dinner was over.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁

There all 7 of you sat at the quidditch field, watching Mingi and Hongjoong practice as they soared through the air on their broomsticks, the wind whipping through their hair. You leaned back against the bleachers, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the field. The rest of your friends—Seonghwa, San, Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Wooyoung—were scattered around, chatting and enjoying the show.

" i think Ravenclaw has the quidditch cup this year. Better watch out Gryffindorks," You said, smirking at the four proud lions that huffed in annoyance.

"laugh it up little badger, we have Jongho on the team now," Yunho said.

You turned your attention back to the field, where Hongjoong was effortlessly gliding through the air, weaving around Mingi with impressive agility. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved, his confidence radiating as he practiced his shots on goal. You couldn’t help but admire his determination.

“Look at him go,” you muttered, a small smile creeping onto your face. “He’s really in his element.”

San, overhearing you, smirked. “See? Even you can’t deny he’s got skills.”

“Fine, I’ll admit it,” you said, half-heartedly, glancing back at your friends. “He’s good.”

“Good? More like phenomenal!” Wooyoung shot back, laughing. “Just wait until the first match. He’ll have all the Ravenclaws trembling.”

" just admit it ynie~ you have a crush on our Hongjoongie" Seonghwa said, tickling your sides making you squeal.

You burst into laughter, squirming away from Seonghwa’s fingers. “Stop it! I do not!” you protested, though your cheeks were undoubtedly flushed.

“Oh, come on! It’s written all over your face,” San chimed in, his playful smirk growing wider. “You can’t hide it from us!”

Just as you were about to deny once more, Mingi and Hongjoong landed near by. Wooyoung was going to tease you once more before you took your wand out and casted out Silencio. With a flick of your wand, the spell took effect, and suddenly, the teasing voices of your friends fell silent. They looked at you in surprise, their mouths moving but no sound escaping. You couldn’t help but grin at the success of your spell.

You smiled, blowing them a kiss as you began your decent down the stairs to met Hongjoong and Mingi. Wooyoung, ever the dramatic one, pretended to act out a silent scream, clutching his heart. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. You pulled Hongjoong by his practice shirt, giving him a peck on his cheek that made him blush profusely. Mingi let out a whine, " where's mine little badger?"

You turned to Mingi, placing a kiss on his cheek as well. Both boys now blushing profusely. The footsteps of everyone launching from their seats, their voices coming back as you lifted up the spell from them. As the spell lifted, the air filled with laughter and playful banter once more. Wooyoung dramatically clutched his chest, feigning a swoon. “What is this madness? Kisses flying everywhere!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, enjoying the moment as both Hongjoong and Mingi tried to hide their embarrassment. “Just spreading some love!” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye.

The boys all crowded you, begging for a kiss from you as Mingi and Hongjoong howled with laughter.

[gayofthefae]

In a fight with Mike, El begs him to tell her he loves her and calls herself a monster. That fight is not about Mike or their failing romance; it is about her hating herself. It isn't about Mike; she wants it to be from Mike but it isn't about him. She believes that she is an unlovable monster and she just needs someone to tell her "you are not a monster, people have flaws and that is okay. I acknowledge that and still say: I love you." And guess what, her prayers have been answered:

"You speak of monsters and superheroes. That's the stuff of myth and fairytales. Reality, truth, is rarely so simple. People are not so easily defined." "I care[d] for you; I love[d] you."

And it is the most disgusting thing in the show. I have watched scissors in a back, burning flesh, rats explode into goo and eat people's faces. That is the most disgusting thing in the show.

And they know it. Because that's the point. She is disgusted by it. And it causes her to realize what she thought she needed was actually just what she wanted and she doesn't actually need it at all. She is fine without it and she can leave. It is a wake up call for her. And she does just that. She leaves. She leaves knowing her worth and she is lovable enough that she doesn't need him to love her, she can do it herself.

I've talked before about the many usages of "love" leading up to Mike's - Jason to Chrissy, Nancy and Jonathan, Max signing her letter to Billy, Jonathan to Will - but none of those actually matter too much in how it affects his words.

It doesn't matter that other people have already said it. It matters that El has already heard it by the time she gets Mike. And it is exactly what she wanted to hear. And she hated it.

Mike's words mean nothing now. Because if Brenner can say them and believe it, Anyone can. "I love you" is no longer some great feat. It's something you can be wrong about with your whole chest. Because they cracked open the door, made Brenner an easier to swallow gateway and said "Remember: nobody ever said it had to be true. They just said he had to say it."

[sysig]

Ellen McLain’s commentary from my trivia playthrough

[pass3ra]

cressida's storyline was genuinely shameful tbhhh it's like they started rewriting it in the first half of the season then completely forgot about the changes they'd made to make it fit the book plot and it just ends up making everyone else look bad😐 every character in the second half got a "penelope did nothing wrong" lobotomy so we ended up with eloise completely ignoring cressida being sold off to an horrible man (when she made every effort to support her in the first half of the season) and for some reason resenting her for pretending to be lady whistledown? Then they somehow frame her ignoring colin's offensively bad pleas as it being her turning away from redemption when all she's trying to do is escape being trapped in the country with her likely abusive aunt... and it ends with her meeting her horrible fate and it still being framed as tragic only to immediately juxtapose it with the bridgerton family winning the idgaf war while gleefully seeing off francesca and her future dead husband. The bridgertons were the villains of the season frfr

[localgardenweed]

Just saw the new video Hargreaves posted via tiktok and im sorry i sighed seeing the Tord clip im sorry gang i cant get myself hyped.

I dont know why but for a while now all the Tord stuff has been leaving a bad taste in my mouth cause before it was “guys dont ask us about Tord stop asking ugh so annoying” to “hey guys dropping more Tord merch, episodes, spinoff show and also gonna send him over to do a concert with Miku” or some shit like ok they realized he is a cash cow its okay to admit that but idk, as much as I love Tord i feel like it would have been better to let him go bury him in satin laid down on a bed of roses sunk into the river at dawn sent away with the words of a love song. I know people love Tord and I DO TOO if you look through my old stuff you knew he was like one of my favs and also ya know the whole oc x canon stuff but i dont know, knowing Larson wanted Tord out of the show after he left just for him to be brought back in The End, show ended and like hm well this is it to Beyond dropping and getting made fun of for wanting him back to then turning him into a cash cow and whole joke and middle finger to fans who wanted him back by teasing them with him behind a paywall or just murdering him on screen. I know they need money this shit doesn’t come for free but idk it always left a bad taste in my mouth. For those who are happy for the possible probably maybe return of Tord, good for you guys, but im gonna hold off on celebrating.

[eclipsecrowned]

goes into tags for one of my fandoms. watches that one fandom's wheel of fortune swing back around to 'why are m*rder hornets building nests on my blog?'

[thefcmilymcn]

Howdy y’all I’m not dead I’m just a man now isn’t that rad