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manicpixiefelix · 5 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #head heart hand fic #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #felix catton smut #oliver quick smut #saltburn smut

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chordsykat · 1 month

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How I write action/fight scenes

From a prompt posted by a friend on Discord last night. :3 Just thought I would ramble a bit before getting to work, this morning. If you're a writer and want to know what goes through my head as I come up with combat scenes in my stories, then read on. In this way, I hope we both learn a lot. Because I honestly don't think I've ever laid out my "formula" before...

First, know who you're dealing with.

This tutorial is going to stick mostly to the actual writing aspects, but if you're going to do an action series, you should factor in the combat abilities of your characters as you develop them. This doesn't have to be anything fancy. Keep it to the natural human responses at least. In other words, during a conflict, how will your character react:

Fight: Push back

Flight: Run away

Freeze: Do nothing

Knowing just that will give you enough to start thinking these dances through. And indeed, that's what they are - a dance. If you know more, like, specifically what kind of fighting they do, what their strengths in combat are, etc -- all the better, but know that what I list below goes in order from most to least important, and that stuff won't be on the list until the end.

Second, (and always) make the audience care about the action.

This sounds dumb and counterintuitive but people won't find an action scene compelling just because it's an action scene. Not to knock it, because it was brilliant for a different reason and a lot of the writing staff's hands were tied... BUT... During my time as a fan of, all the way into my employment with, Archie-Sonic, I can't tell you how many action scenes happened just because some executive at Sega was like "I think X and Y need to fight." So they would, and for reasons that were muddy at best. I think at one point, we had Sonic and Knuckles literally exchanging this dialogue:

Sonic: Yo dude, be cool. Last time we met, we left on good terms! Knuckles: Maybe, but you're still an intruder and just because you did me that favor on the day my daughter was to be married does not mean I owe you anything in the way of kindness.

IDK, my memory may be foggy, but that was the gist of it. Point is, don't do that - and first make sure your audience understands the motives behind the action, the potential stakes, and why it's all taking place to begin with. Else, you can make it as cool as you want and people are going to walk away with a sense of "that was cool" instead of "holy shit I was freaking out through that whole scene." If there's any question as to what you should be striving for as a writer, it's the latter.

Third, plot it out like it's a mini-story.

To the point - figure out the end first, and work backwards, just like so many writing tutorials have said before. Again, keep it simple: Who wins? Does the conflict result in a casualty of some kind? Does a character learn something?

Before you show how it goes down, you need to establish what goes down as the action happens, and what happens afterwards. Keeping the ending in mind as yo write a scene is always a good way of making it feel tighter. And throwing littlte twists for interest (maybe a character has the upper-hand for all but the end of the fight - maybe a character is losing until a specific turning point, etc) is made much easier, too.

Fourth, mind the rhythm.

A little weird to explain this, but the back-and-forth nature of the scene needs to flow well. Generally, conflict follows a pattern of:

Character acts

Opposition reacts

Opposition acts

Character reacts

If this pattern looks familiar to you, it should. This is the basic pattern of human dialogue as seen in stories and, YES, real life. Consider your scene like a dialogue all its own (even if the characters are talking throughout). The twists and turns I spoke about in the last point should be "off beat" because there's an unexpected nature to them. When a twist happens, consider breaking the above pattern.

Fifth, showcase character traits and skills (again, always).

Some characters have a high sense of honor and would put down their weapons if their opponent was unarmed. Some of them would fight dirty and hit someone with a chair when their back was turned. Some characters are scrappy and will jump into a conflict even when they're sorely outmatched. Some are straight up cowards who might run away even when there's a good chance they could win. Some are smart enough to bow out and will not engage -- hiding at the first sign of trouble. Some will throw snowballs at the oppressor and be surprised when they pull aggro and the dude comes after them.

You get the idea -- fights, conflicts and action scenes are great ways to show your characters' strengths, weaknesses, traits, and personality. Times of struggle are going to lay emotional responses raw, and it's a great way of showing "who someone really is" as it were.

Sixth, showcase unique defensive behavior.

Some characters have specific training: military, martial arts, street-fighting, etc... which, if you're aware of those, should come out during combat or conflict. Some characters have access to weapons. Some characters' bodies are the weapon. Etc, etc etc...

Whatever you do, about the only time you're going to show off the fact that your character knows Muay Thai is during an action scene. If you yourself do not practice this martial art, then research what you need to incorporate to make it believable when you write. Watch videos and write down the ways you would describe the movement. If you're doing a comic, then sketch the movement. Use that in your story.

Last, create more interest by tying in and highlighting story themes or disparities between protagonist characters, antagonist characters, and/or the conflict as a whole.

A little trickier, but if your story has a central theme or moral, try showing pieces of it shining through the action. Just as one wild example, if you have a theme of "love conquers all" this might mean your fight will end with the two people falling in love, instead of fighting. Think like a dungeon master. If you rolled a natural 20 on "try to woo the orc" in a combat situation (remember that comic?) what do you think would happen?

Too, if your combatants have something in common, or especially something that they are diametrically opposed on, feel free to show that off in these scenes. It'll leave the audience knowing them better (and set them up for further head-butting... or romance(?) down the line. And that's always fun).

Anywho, that's just a few of my thoughts on action sequences in fiction. If this helped you, or you want me to talk about this even more -- send me a message or a note or something. Always up for discussing this kind of thing.

And your reward for reading this far is an invite to join my discord if you wanna hear me ramble on about this sort of thing, in perpetuity. :)

#creative writing #writing tips #tutorials #action scenes #writing action scenes #writing combat #character development #story development

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rel312 · 10 months

Text

I forgot the Miraculous Awakening movie was supposed to come out so now I’m gonna ramble about it (spoilers!):

The jumpscare of hearing Marinette sing in a completely different voice took me off guard

I’m loving actually seeing gabriel as a fashion designer and what his stuff looks like

Chloe sounds… very much not like Chloe and it’s off putting (idk if it’s a different voice actor, I’m not looking it up)

“Think you an I were meant to be” I love Alya

Emilie? This clearly in the movie??

Was that Luka I just saw next to Juleka? At school???

The black cat on the book!

Adrien looks so pretty in that shot

Are… are Nino and Adrien already friends??

Gabriel’s hair

The loss of Emilie seems to be a lot more recent/present than in the series

Ohhh it’s her birthday

The lore is very interesting in this, we’re getting a lot more that wasn’t there in the show

So the miraculous have a choice in this for their holders I guess

Fu is so funny

The moon!

Was… was the black cat a coincidence? How did it get there? I don’t think it was Plagg so what was that??

So the first akumatized victim is not a child this time

There’s a ladybug too? I’m so confused

“Who saves a life saves the world” interesting that it’s more prophecy-like

I keep forgetting this is a musical

I love the beats of the theme song though

Is- is Tikki rapping???

No transformation sequence?

So she’s aware it’s a musical?

Is the yo-yo sentient???

No Adrien and Plagg intro scene?

Adrien is so funny he’s so excited to be a hero

Pretty different ladynoir dynamic, cat noir’ not immediately smitten

“A she-ro” please no

She called him Kitty!

CARELESS WHISPER???

Now he’s smitten

“Like a dream in a dream” Adrien you have to work on your lyrics

But the moon

Fart jokes? Really?

PTFAFS

Adrien going from she’s my side kick to she’s better than me in every way

Puss in boots

“I have nothing to lose” um your son??

Gabriel villain song kinda goes hard ngl

Is he making multiple villains? I’m so lost

Are they making Mr. Mime a real villain now? Not Mylene’s dad?

Also who is this pink haired lady?

“Dr. Love” Nino I love you but you’re so wrong

So Nino already has a crush on Alya and not Marinette

Aww Tom gets to hear Marinette call him the best

Only to immediately think she’s embarrassed by him

Nino losing his glasses on the ride is legit my biggest fear when going on rides

Transformation sequence!

Where did she actually transform though? She was just in the middle of the fair

They learned to work together fast

So I guess he doesn’t need to say the word cataclysm?

I love Ferris wheels rolling around scenes

Lmao Marinette really went I’ll save your life but you’re going in the dumpster

The timeline of this movie is very confusing, Nino is in love with Alya? But wasn’t it just the first day of school? Or was it just in the middle? When did Nino and Adrien meet? I have so many questions

Was the balloon thing a person? If not who created him and how?

THEME SONG!

Are we really getting all this adrienette development in a montage?? He told her about his mom, they went to the movies, they had a double date with Alya and Nino, and were barely getting it???

I love the glitter in Cat Noir’s mask

Ladynoir moment by the moon!

Marinette stood up to Chloe!

Adrien you cannot scare a person like that

The hearts in the balcony and the moon again!

I’m loving the visuals in this movie

“For the first time I feel truly free, it’s all thanks to you” my heart!

Ladynoir seems to be the main ship of the movie and I’m not mad about it

Oh my god their dance by the moon! I knew it was coming but I love it so much!

“How could I ever think she’d fall for me” Adrien stop she does love you she just doesn’t realize it’s you

Gabriel looks like shit and I’m glad to see it

I’m glad Adrien was able to stand up to him though

She actually managed to ask him out holy shit!

I mean I know it’s sad cause he rejected her but she actually managed to do it look at her!

I… did not think her shirt was a tank top this is so weird

Hawkmoth is akumatizing himself???

Careless Whisper again??? Are the writers ok??

Did they really need the takeout death?

The- the moth miraculous just… ate the ladybug miraculous???

I guess they don’t quite have cataclysm and lucky charm, their powers work a bit differently

Gabriel’s face at seeing Adrien, now you finally see what you’ve done you SOB

I’m glad they get to reconcile

So she can just… fix everything without a lucky charm??

Her dress is so pretty!

And she’s not wearing a mask!

The reveal in this is so interesting but pretty cute!

The way she took off his mask and put it on her was so freaking cute!

Really? Cut to the end right before the kiss??

So he does have Emilie in the basement?

Wait a minute I don’t think we ever got to see Chloe and Adrien interact in the movie lmao

The movie started a bit more cheesy and childish but overall they did a pretty good job of telling the story. The visuals were stunning, though the story was a bit rushed but they did a good job. There wasn’t quite enough time to develop the characters and their dynamics but they did the best they could with the time they had. The person who did Marinette’s singing voice was amazing, but I wish they found someone who sounded more like Marinette if they couldn’t use the same voice actress. The lore was a bit different but I kind of like it better than how much we started getting in later seasons, I just wish we got a bit more explanation on some things cause we don’t have the show to give us answers anymore. The only reason I feel like this ending with gabriel and Adrien works is because they didn’t have as much of an abusive relationship and he actually had a chance to redeem himself, but I’m glad he has to actually deal with the consequences. I know there are tons of fanfics about it but it’s so sad that while Marinette knew who Adrien was, he had no idea if he’d ever see Ladybug again but I’m glad that got resolved pretty quickly. I’m confused on what they want to do next cause they clearly were setting up for some kind of sequel but gabriel is already out as Hawkmoth and Nathalie only helped him during that time but I guess we’d just have to wait and see.

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

ToE couldn’t come any quicker! I need that update girl! I’ve missed Dot soo much!!

I’m so excited to be back in the swing of things! Enjoy! It’s a fluffy ride with a steep slope at the end. Strap in! Terms of Endearment Masterlist here.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“We’ll change the wires out for something a little less complicated in a day or two Miss Y/L/N, but in the meantime it’s liquids only.” Nurse Cindy reminded you with a soft ‘listen to me I’m the healthcare provider’ tone you weren’t in the mood for.

“Can you do anything about the brooding bull rider in the corner of the room?” You huffed through your teeth, the wires had just been tightened. Rhett stood with his own groan as Cindy chuckled and tucked your legs under the blanket of the wheelchair you were perched in.

“Unfortunately I can’t, I’m under strict orders to make sure your supervised twenty four seven, having the brooding bull rider here just takes some pressure off my nurses—but you have your panic button if he ever steps out of line.” It wasn’t the answer you were looking for as you sat back and said not a word in response. Nurse Cindy took that as her sign to leave. So she did. “Her charts have been updated Mr Abbott, feel free to call Mr Bradshaw and let him know that all she’s responding well to the antibiotics.”

“Thanks—“ Was all Rhett replied with as he took it upon himself to take your wheelchair by the handles and push you out towards the door.

“What are you doing?” Rhett knew you were in a particularly foul mood today. You hadn’t said a word about why, and you weren’t about to cry on the shoulder of a man you didn’t know and did trust as far as you could throw him, why you were in such a foul mood. But he knew. Jake had told him during change over yesterday. “Rhett, seriously—“

It was your daughter's third birthday tomorrow and you were going to miss it. A milestone you’d never be able to go back and retrace. Gone, poof, into thin air. Rhett, albeit stubborn in many ways and probably a little rougher around the edges than most, didn’t understand what that pain was like. He didn’t have children.

But he could sympathise and he didn’t wanna leave you alone on a day that was hard enough to get through with people around you. Was he going to tell you that though?

Absolutely fucking not.

“I need a coffee but I don’t trust you enough to leave you here alone, so we’re going to get a coffee.” Just as Rhett was pushing you out of the doorway, a man with black curly locks and heart eyes you could see from a mile away came walking towards you with a bouquet of flowers. His smile melted your heart as he caught your eye, he waved as he called your name and pushed past nurses and physicians alike.

“Fe!” He beamed. “Hey! Sorry I haven’t been round to see you yet I’ve been caught up with Phoenix—“ Before Mickey Garcia could get another word out, Rhett was on him. Pushing him up against the nearest wall with his forearm to his sternum and a first tightly wrapped in the T-shirt he was wearing.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” Oh my god, as if this day couldn’t get any worse. Your eyes went as wide as they could at the sight. Rhett and Mickey pinned and pinned good.

“RHETT! Lay off!” You grumbled through your teeth as you tried to wheel yourself forward with one arm, the other was still in a sling. “It’s just Mickey—“

“Fanboy! I’m—“ Mickey panicked as he stared into the sole of Rhett Abbott. Bob had warned Mickey he may be in attack dog mode and to tread lightly. The warning went unheeded. A mistake Mickey learnt the hard way. “I’m Fanyboy, Mickey Garcia, I work with Felix, my Abuela made her biscuits once—“ Mickey found himself rambling until you reached out and tapped Rhett on his side. Only then did he back off. “Holy shit I think I crapped my pants—“

“You never mentioned a Mickey.” Rhett fixed himself up as he eyed down Fanboy. The nurses in the halls had gone back to minding their own business when they saw the situation had dissolved itself. For a brief moment you could have killed Rhett, but at the same time you saw first hand how quickly he’d come to your defense. There was some hesitation in your response—but you didn’t let the brief thought of heroism change your mind about Rhett Abbott.

Not this time anyway.

“I’ll provide you with a manifest of friends and family—“ All you did was roll your eyes. “Mick, you good?” Mickey nodded, he couldn’t stop staring at Rhett. This was some trippy twilight zone shit.

“You guys weren’t kidding when you said it’s Bob in cowboy cosplay, huh?”

***~***~***~***~****~***~

Odette Dolan didn’t understand a lot in life, she was just a little girl in a big scary world who loved her mother fiercely and her Tooster dearly. She loved her uncle Jake to infinity and beyond—but ever since Bradley Bradshaw came into her life? She knew, deep down, that he loved her just as much as you did. Sorry uncle Jake, but there was a new man in Odette's life.

And he had a mustache and a few tattoos that he let Odette colour in with markers.

“Happy birthday to you—“ Bradley mumbled as he felt the tiny tot that had been sleeping beside him in his bed shift and squirm. “Happy birthday to you—“ He mumbled louder as Dot crawled across the stroon pillows that littered Bradley’s bed like a minefield. “Happy birthday dear Odette—“ He smiled as he felt her crawl up onto his chest, plopping herself down directly on top of his exposed stomach as he stretched out and laid on his back. Her tiny legs splayed across his rib cage as she smiled down at him, her hands on his chest—that smile quickly turned into an early morning yarn. “Happy birthday to you, how old are you now huh?”

The sun had only just begun to rise, but Dot hadn’t been sleeping all that well with you gone. She had settled into somewhat of a routine, going back and forth between Jake and Bradley’s care like a ping pong. Some days were rougher than most but Bradley knew he had it taken care of.

If by consuming enough caffeine to kill an elephant and surviving on whatever food was readily available, like bio cheese sandwiches and peanut butter toast, then yeah—he had it taken care of.

“I’m free—“ Dot beamed as she held up three of her fingers. Bradley chuckled as she did so, holding his hands up to take hers in his. Pulling her down gently to wrap her in a bear hug so loving that she’d never forget how much she was loved again.

“Great, I have a threenager.” Bradley cooed as he kissed the squirming little girl's cheek. “Come on, I reckon instead of banana pancakes we do chocolate chip?”

“Mamma's not home yet?” Dot didn’t want anything for her birthday, she didn’t want new toys or a birthday cake or chocolate chip pancakes. She wanted her mum, she wanted you back. Bradley could see it in the way Dot's bottom lip quivered when he didn’t respond straight away, she looked him dead in the eye as she pulled back from their warm embrace. “Mamma's gonna come back for me, isn’t she?” The tears that welled in your little girl's eyes broke Rooster's heart. Fuck this was pure torture. For all involved, for you and Odette the most.

He hated himself for keeping the two of you separated, but he knew that one day you’d thank him for not subjecting your daughter to the sight of you in pain. Broken. You deserved to remain a superhero in Dot's eyes.

“Mums just a little sick at the moment darlin, as soon as she gets better, well go see her and you’ll light up her world more than you know.” Dot nodded, she’d been given the same answer enough now to understand that you weren’t well. She believed the adults in her life, Jake, Tooster, even Amilia and Payback that you were just trying to get better.

As Dot rolled onto her stomach, she reached out to place a gentle hand on Bradley’s scruff covered cheek—no work meant no beard regulations. He was gonna enjoy the little things with this unexpected time off.

“Whewe’s your mamma Toosters?” Bradley sighed heavily as he tried to think light of his feet about how to tackle that question. He didn’t have an awful lot of family—no parents, no siblings. The only cousin he knew about was just a stranger now. His grandparents had long passed before his dad left earth side and the uncles and aunts that were still alive didn’t care all that much to check in.

But as Bradley looked down at the little girl in her nighty, with her brunette ringlets and her heterochromia eyes—Bradley knew that your love, as well as your daughter's love, was handmade just for him. And that was all the family he ever needed.

“She’s with me everywhere I go.” There’s a ring tucked away in an old red ring box inside Bradley’s bedside table. He knows one day he’ll give it to you. “And she brought your mama, and you, birthday girl—into my life so I wouldn’t ever be alone again.” Dot smiled as she wiggled up onto Bradley’s stomach, she placed her ear to his belly and could hear the rumbles. Rooster ran his hand through the mess of bed hair he just knew he’d have to do something about before they went out today. “I’ll check in on your mama a little later today and see how she’s doing and hopefully you can see her at the end of the week huh?” Bradley cooed as he sat up, Dot giggled as he tickled her sides and folded himself onto her. Trapping her against his thighs and chest. “How does that sound, Dotty?”

“Tooster!!” Dot screamed as she laughed and giggled and squirmed around trying to free herself from Bradley tickles. He let her off the hook pretty easy. Sitting up to rid himself of the bed covers.

“Come on, chocolate chip pancakes, then we’ll go shopping for some stuff for your room.” Dot didn’t know it but Bradley had organised for just the two of them to spend the entire day together. Under the disguise of room decorating, the two of them were heading to the indoor play zone that was just out of this stratosphere cool—even Rooster was pretty pumped to get his flip on.

“Pancakes and paint—“ Dot nodded as she held her arms up and out as Bradley scooped her up, placing her on his hip, the hip that his sweats hung low off. Bradley didn’t know as they made their way out of his room and down the hall that there was a car parked across the street, just waiting to watch their every move.

“All for my perfect little princess.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Okay Little Miss, what pasta do we want?” Jake asked as he crouched down beside Dot in the pasta aisle of Ritchies Grocery Store. He held her close and tight as he kissed her cheek. “I’m thinking bow tie, how about you?” He looked towards the rows of pasta all lined up in their respective shapes. He couldn’t have been more tired if he tried. The bags under his eyes were darker than they ever had been.

“Mama likes sghetti—“ Dot beamed as she chuckled and leaned against Jake's chest as she lost her balance, falling into her uncle for support. “Can we do sghetti?” It was now Jake's turn to chuckle, like mother like damn daughter.

“Sure Dotty, we can do Spaghetti.” His knees cracked slightly as he rose to his feet again, red basket of groceries in one hand and Odette's sparkly nail clad hand in the other. “I think we got just about everything we need for dinner don’t you think?” It was Jake's night with Dot, they were growing few and far between now. Bradley was stepping into the role he was born to play with expert steps.

Jake would never let the guy know that he was proud of the dad Bradley Bradshaw had become over the last few months and even more so the last few weeks. He didn’t wanna give the guy an even bigger ego than he already had. He’d never live it down.

“Tooster likes the swirl pasta—“ Jake had almost reached for the packet of spaghetti when Dot spoke up, he froze in his place. “Is Tooster with mamma?”

“No baby, Toosters at work yelling at the Admirals for not keeping mama safe.” It had become a force of habit now. Jake cringed at himself for saying it but it just felt so natural. Tooster. “But he’s staying with mama tonight to help her get all pretty and ready to see you tomorrow.” Dot smiled, she’d missed you so much and over the past week she’d become overly clingy to the two men who had been tag teaming in and out of daddy duty. “So we want the swirls now huh? Is that where you’re going with this?” Jake looked to his left, the little girl who was just the spitting image of you was getting so big. Her third birthday had come and gone but they were all yet to celebrate.

You’d missed your daughter's third birthday. It was a rough day for everyone who came into contact with you to say the very least. But Bradley took her out on a date. Just the two of them. Which made your tears a little less painful.

“No, we still do sghetti.” Jake left it at that before the now three year old could change her mind. He grabbed the packet of pasta and dumped it in the basket full of spaghetti bolognese ingredients Jake Seresin and a three year old style.

“Alright, come on then let’s get home so we can get you in the bath.” Jake sighed as he started toward the checkout. When he rounded the corner, he nearly let out an audible gasp when he saw her. There she was in all her beauty.

Amilia Fisher—walking his way with a matching red shopping basket in her own little world.

“Woah, woah—“ Jake whispered as he ducked into the closet aisle, pulling Dot with him as she looked at him confused as to why he’d damn near ripped her arm out of its socket. “Dot, that's Amilia.” Jake had never asked a three year old for relationship advice on a relationship he wasn’t in—But he was about to. “What do I do?” He crouched on one knee and placed the basket down on the ground as he shook Dot gently to make sure he had her utmost attention. “Do I talk to her? Do I just ignore her? Or do we play it cool and run into her?”

“Well whatever you do, just don’t stay crouched on the floor holding that poor girl hostage.” Jake's heart nearly exploded out his ass as he jumped up and tried to act as cool as he could while Dot beamed up at Amilia. “Hi Odette, what’s Flyboy up to?” Amilia greeted the little girl before her by tussling her hair.

“He wikes you like my mamma like Tooster—“ Jake had never been thrown so hard under the bus before, he knew then and there Dot was two faced. What a little bi—

“Good thing I like him like your mama likes Tooster too.” Amilia smiled down at the little girl who turned to Jake who was now flushed red as ever as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He was usually pretty good at this stuff, talking to women, but when it came to Amilia though Jake defaulted back to a time where he didn’t know how to talk to girls.

Pre pubescent Jake.

“I uh—we’re making Spaghetti for dinner.” Was the first thing that came out of Jake's mouth as he scooped your daughter up onto his hip. “Snitches get stitches.” He whispered in her ear as she wiggled and squirmed. “What brings you here?” Fuck. Stupid question. Amilia looked down at her basket full of groceries before she looked back up at Jake.

“Pennys redoing the menu, said I could have a special—“ She shrugged a little. “Thought I’d do something like bangers and mash or a chicken parmi, throw a schooner on the side and call it a day—bring some Aussie culture to this gloryhole town.” Jake frowned momentarily as the slight insult. It washed down his back pretty quickly though. “Just wanted to do a test run of each first, needed some ingredients.”

There's a moment of silence between the time Amilia finished explaining why she was at the grocery store, something she thought was once pretty self explanatory—and the moment Jake finally managed to ask the all important question he’d been holding back on, too afraid of what the answer may be now that Amilia knew how chaotic his life was right now.

“I should probably leave you t—“

“Do you wanna go grab that coffee at Preston’s Pastries? Like tomorrow sometime?” Jake was praying he hadn’t left it too late, he’d been so caught up with you and everything going on that he hadn’t allowed himself the time to sit and wonder what his life post your apocalyptic crisis would look like.

But then he was looking at Amilia Fisher in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store and the thought dawned on him, he really really wanted whatever this was to work out in his favour.

Amilia did too. She bit her bottom lip momentarily to stop herself from squealing. Jake caught the glint in her eyes as they brightened to a new extreme. He was obsessed.

“I have work tomorrow at two but anytime before that is great.” Amilia nodded. “I’d uh—yeah I’d really like that.”

“Great, I’ll text you when I get it sorted. How about ten?” Jake crouched to pick up his basket of groceries as he held Dot on his hip. She was either getting too big for this or he needed to hit the gym more. Amilia looked at the little girl who was looking at her like she was a princess in real life. Something in Dot's eyes told Amilia that she was a special little girl to a lot of people.

“It’s a date.” Amilia left it at that before she turned on her heels. “Keep an eye on him for me, Odette.” She sent Jake a playful smirk over her shoulder before she disappeared—Jake hated to watch her leave but with the way Amilias ass looked in those tight blue jeans he loved to watch her go.

“God you and your mother are the same person I swear to god.” Jake groaned as he rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. “What the hell was that for?” He asked as Dot grinned at him. Tucking her head down onto his shoulder.

Jake didn’t know it as he made his way over to the cashier that there was a man lurking in the distance over by the fresh produce—watching his every move. Waiting.

“Little snitch, my god.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Are you asking for my personal opinion or my professional opinion, Sir?” Bradley asked as he sat across the table from the Secretary of Defense. All operations at Miramar had been suspended without a return to work date due to the ongoing internal investigation. Something like this hadn’t happened since the fall of the towers, when all air traffic was grounded. Military and civilian alike.

“Does it really make a difference, Lieutenant?” The Secretary of Defense asked as he looked at Jaidyn Dolans file. “One man has single handedly shut down an entire section of my Naval Operations and I need all the assistance I can get to have this place back up and running—until I get that the taxpayers are unknowingly paying you and your colleagues to sit on your asses twiddling your thumbs.” The Secretary of Defense sighed as he sat back in his chair, Rooster hadn’t taken his eyes off the man. “And I gotta say Lieutenant, I'm not the biggest fan of the fact we have no idea where the hell this guys gone, so—I’ll ask you again.” There was a brief pause, the atmosphere surrounding the few that sat in the conference room felt damn near heavy enough to drown even the strongest of swimmers. “Do you think that Admiral Simpson—“ Rooster didn’t need to hear the Secretary of Defense ask the same question twice.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N was nearly beaten to death in a janitor’s closet on base, she’s lying in a hospital bed with her jaw wired shut and can’t see her daughter who’s been crying in my arms nearly every night this week.” Bradley explained as he slammed his fist down on the table he sat at. “He came with the police to her room asking her to pick up the slack he dropped, so no—no I don’t think he should be able to to just pick up where he left off, because Fe can’t just pick up where she left off, Sir.”

It was a rough blow but Beau Simpson took it on the chin as he sat at the round table with Bradley Bradshaw, Pete Mitchell and the Secretary of fucking Defence.

“And another thing!” Rooster hissed as he stood and leaned over the table Cyones' way, pointing a finger laced with venom his way. “You had him, the police had him, everyone who could have done something to protect her from this had him! And you all failed her, every single chance you had and that’s on your shoulders.” It was clear to everyone in the room what opinion Bradley was giving. It was fucking personal. “She could have been another forgotten statistic and if someone doesn’t pull their thumb out and find this psychopath then she still very much could be and I will not be the only one who loses sleep over this woman and her daughter!”

“We’re using all of our resources to track Lieutenant Dolan down, Rooster.” Cyclone replied as Bradley sat back in his chair as steam poured out his ears. “But until Y/n presses charges—“

“She shouldn’t have to! you have the guy on tape beating her to death!” Bradley was tried, he hadn’t slept properly since you’d been in the hospital, the bags under his eyes were so dark that it looked like someone had punctured him in the face. “The Navy can have him reprimanded, the Navy can have him discharged for disorderly conduct, the Navy can charge him with assault and the Navy can—“ Before Rooster had a chance to tell the Secretary of Defense that the Navy could get stuffed, Mav was placing a hand on his shoulder and interrupting.

“I think what Roosters trying to say is that it shouldn’t be Felix’s responsibility to put her attacker behind bars—“ Mav smiled across the table at the Secretary of Defense, they’d never been on good terms, something about a run in a long time ago with his daughter. Mav didn’t know who she was until he was being shipped off to Bosnia. “At least until she’s ready to.”

“We hear your concerns, Lieutenant Bradshaw, we do, and be sure that we’re doing everything we can to get operations back up and running.” It was never about your safety or making sure you were doing okay, it was only ever about getting Mirimar back in business. “We’re in the process of checking over all the F-18’s on base that Felix may have come into contact with, we’re rewatching footage and actively reviewing policies that could be changed to prevent situations like this from happening again.”

“Sounds like you’ve got her under investigation too?” Bradley frowned, he was met with silence from the Secretary of Defense. His name was Allen Locke. “Hang on a minute—“ The room went silent as Allen squared his shoulders, the relisation had suddenly hit that not only was Admiral Simpson under investigation amidst the internal review, but so were you. “Why would Y/n be under investigation in all of this?”

“We can’t disclose that information.”

“Bullshit you can't, that's the love of my life and you’re telling me she’s under investigation after she was almost killed!?”

“If she’s the love of your life Lieutenant than I suggest that you file the proper paperwork to disclose whatever relationship you’ve been involved in—“ Allen, who had seen his fair share of combat over the years and had been involved with far more riveting investigations was growing impatient with the distressed man before him.

Bradley couldn’t take talking to a brick wall any longer, he had to trust that Mav would be his proxy in all of this because he couldn’t do it. Not today at least. Rooster scoffed as he stood, he needed to get outta this place, get out of this conference room with these guys who didn’t care about your wellbeing or that of your daughters. All they cared about was getting guys back in planes and feet on the ground and eyes in the towers and hands on the decks.

“For the record I filed that crap with Lucy in admin weeks ago—just find the bastard before I do.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You were going stir crazy. For one whole week you’d been stuck in the god forsaken hospital and more specifically this god forsaken hospital room.

Not once had you seen your daughter outside of the pictures and video updates Bradley and Jake had been sending you or would show you when they came to be with you. You appreciated what they were doing—the sentiment behind keeping you and your daughter separated was justifying enough. You did look like shit. But it didn’t make the heartache hurt any less than it did. And the cracks in your sanity were starting to show. Your daughter was your glue, your lifeline, without her you were starting to crumble.

And you’d missed your little girl turning three. Three years ago you, two days ago, you welcomed your little girl into the world. As you slowly but surely made your way over to the door of your hospital room, you remembered that pain, what it was like to deliver your baby girl all the while Jake held your hand and whispered how powerful and strong you were.

The coast was clear as far as you could tell as you looked around your room, you thought Rhett had gone to the bathroom so there was not a better chance to take yourself for a leisurely stroll down the hall and past the nurses station. You could make a break for it.

As you opened the door of your hospital room, Rhett Abbott stood in the doorway sipping a fresh cup of coffee. Smirking as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Going somewhere?” He taunted softly as he stepped back into your room, watching as you damn near jumped right out of your skin and the clothes on your back.

“Ah!” You gasped and opened your jaw just a little too much than you should have—the doctor had only just taken some of the wiring out and replaced it with something less ridged. Something super tough like rubber bands. “Rhett! Fuck what are you doing! You gave me a heart attack!”

“I went to grab a coffee while you were sleeping.” He explained. “Just what are you doing exactly?” He asked, waiting for you to explain yourself. He already knew what you were up to though. “The doors unlocked sweetheart always has been, but I’ll bet you a twenty you don’t even make it past the nurses station.” Rhett knew how much you missed your daughter, but what he didn’t get was what was going through your mind that you thought you could just up and leave the hospital without causing a scene.

“I don’t need lip from you, son of Satan—“ You mumbled as you pointed and crossed your arms over your chest. “That hat makes you look stupid too.”

“Oh good, I’ll tell my ma that shall I?” Rhett groaned as he sat back in the chair he’d practically been living in for the last week besides the times he went over to Bobs to shower and shave and sleep in peace without having to listen to you cry yourself to sleep. ��She’s the one who picked it out for me.”

“Yeah, go cry to your ma about how I called your hat stupid.” You were being childish, but what else could Rhett expect from you when you’d been kept in this hospital room for a week. You were itching to get out.

“I don’t like your attitude this afternoon.” Rhett sassed as he watched you sink into your bed again, grumbling under your breath as you did so. “We’re all doing our best.”

“Yeah well I don’t like your dumb face.”

“You’re certifiable, you know that right?” Rhett did understand what you had against him, then again—he could see how you saw him as some sort of warden. He wasn’t the one who put you in the hospital though. He was just the one who’d been tasked to keep you company and keep you face when Jake and Bradley couldn’t. “I’ve dated a lot of crazy chicks in my life but you're goddamn certifiable.”

“God must hate me for putting me in this purgatory hell scape with you.” You sighed as you looked up to the ceiling and shook your head in disbelief.

“All religions is just a foolish answer to a foolish question—“ Rhett replied as he finished his coffee, watching as Bradley entered with a subtle knock and an all knowing smirk. “Ah good, my shifts over.” He groaned as he stood, tilting his stupid hat his ma gave him your way as you squinted your eyes at him. Dick. “She only tried to do a runner like twice today, needs a leash or something.” You could have strangled him if Rooster hadn’t placed a gentle hand on your good shoulder.

“Down girl, he’s on our side believe it or not.” You and Rhett had spent a lot of time together in the past week. He listened to you cry yourself to sleep and he’d listen in while doctors explained your condition and told you what you had to endure in order to heal. He reluctantly became an ear for you to vent to and a shoulder for you to lean on when you needed help. Even if you didn’t want to lean on him.

But he wasn’t your friend. He was still a stranger in his own way. You knew he didn’t like you—or he didn’t like being stuck with you. But for some reason he stayed, and he listened and he helped and he told Bradley and Jake what you weren’t telling them. That you weren’t okay. Rhett was your punching bag, and he took it with ease knowing that at the end of the tunnel you’d smile and he’d feel like he did something of import.

“You heading out?” Rooster asked the flannel wearing man who turned on his heels to send you a quick smile.

“Yeah, thought I’d head over to Rob's place for a shit, shower and shave.” You cringed as you sat up, holding your stomach where your spleen had been removed. It was still tender but you could walk.

“Nice Rhett, really nice.” He laughed softly, turning his attention back to Rooster.

““I’ll be back tomorrow morning to see the big reunion, Seeya round.” With that Rhett headed out—he’d sit in the carpark for another half an hour debating if he really wanted to head over to Rob's place. He liked bickering with you a hell of a lot more than he did with his brother. But he was pretty glad he did end up biting the bullet—because he met Natasha Trance. And by god was she as beautiful as ever.

“Hey there gorgeous.” Rooster cooed as he perched on your bedside. “How's your day been? How are you feeling?” Bradley already knew, Rhett had messaged him just after check in with the nurses, he knew that you were in a lot of pain since they changed out your wires for bands.

“I’m fine, feeling great, just tired.” Rooster knew you wanted to be strong for him, you didn’t want him to feel like you were some damsel. You wanted to give him no reason to push back seeing your little girl tomorrow. You’d waited long enough. “You gonna help me shower? I feel like crap.”

“Oh absolutely I am.” Rooster smirked as he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. The bruises were at a stage where you could attempt to cover them with some makeup. “I brought you some new shampoo and conditioner, picked up one of the tree hut scrubs and a new razor too. We’re doing one of those—“ He paused, clicking his fingers together. “Ahh fuck what do you call them?”

“An everything shower?” You smiled, so grateful to have Rooster by your side. He was doing his best to keep you safe and warm and feeling loved. You could recover from this, you were strong enough to do it on your own but there was no shame in having help.

“Yes! That, we’re gonna have an everything shower.” Bradley stood as he picked up the bag he’d brought with him. “I’ve got a couple of changes of clothes for you, your makeup, I even packed your straightener but I can’t promise I won’t burn the tips of your ears off.”

You just watched as Bradley unpacked everything he’d brought over, meticulously organizing things around the room from pictures Dot had drawn you to the clothes he’d brought over to replace the ones you’d worn into the ground. You couldn’t have been more in love with someone if you tried.

“Hey Bradshaw.” You smiled, as you flung your legs over the side of your bed.

“Yeah Fe?” He called out from the bathroom that was off to the side of your hospital room, it wasn’t much but it was enough— a shower with a toilet and a sink to match. Bradley saw it as a good time to set all your new products on the shower caddy, for when you were ready to shower.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” There’s no reply but you hear a clammer of products fall to the floor. “Rooster? You okay in there?” You asked softly as you pushed yourself off the hospital bed before you padded over to where Bradley was picking up the things he’d dropped. “Hey, you good?”

You didn’t know how to react when you saw Bradley Bradshaw down on one knee. No. He wasn’t. Was he?

“I’ve been in love with you since I first met you baby.” He finally replied as he pulled out a ring from his back pocket. “This was my mums engagement ring—“

“Bradley—“ You tried to interpret him as your voice shook, but all Bradley did was stand and press his lips to yours as softly as he could. He didn’t want to hurt you.

“I’m not asking you to marry me here.” Oh thank goodness you thought as he let his forehead rest against yours. “But just know, it has gone everywhere with me since the beginning of you and me and I will ask you, someday, soon, because I don’t want to spend a day of my life without you, and your mini me at my side.”

“Well for the record—“ You tried to smile the best you could without busting your jaw. Still talking through the teeth. “I’d say yes.”

“You would?” Bradley raised an eyebrow as you looked at him tauntingly.

You grew up poor. Poor of everything really. Money, food, friends, family, love. Sometimes you’d go days on end without eating until Jake would realise and pack you an extra sandwich. But now? With Bradley Bradshaw you were drowning in a sea of love and compassion and support and trust. He was your soulmate. Your guiding light.

You were rich in a wealth that was priceless.

“Yeah—I’d marry the shit out of you.” You teased as you slowly but surely dragged your open hand down his T-shirt clad torso. Sinking lower and lower until you were softly palming him over the top of his jeans.

“Ohh—“ It came out as a mere whimper that sent butterflies flying throughout your stomach. Even after everything you still wanted Bradley, and badly. “Oh honey I’d marry to fuck outta you.”

“I think I’m ready for a shower.” You nearly moaned as you felt Rooster growing under your palm. Straining against the confines of his jeans. “Will you help me undress Roo?” Like an eager child on Christmas morning Bradley swallowed and nodded in agreeable to your request.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll help you undress mama.” He knew he couldn’t do anything, he didn’t wanna risk hurting your jaw anymore than he knew it was already hurting. Or your shoulder. But he’d play your game, he’d let you tease and taunt him, he’d let you jerk him off under the stream of warm water that fell from the shower head above. He’d let you slowly work him over and he’d allow you to dance in the sound of his soft needy whimpers. Bradley would do anything to bring you back to life. And if having you milk him dry before he washed your hair and shaved your legs was that sacrifice?

Then that was just the sacrifice he was willing to make.

“Oh fuck mama.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Later that same night as Jake had just settled Dot into bed, he had an eerie feeling that he couldn’t quite shake. He put it down to the fact that Dot was sleeping in his room—the room the two of you had once been crammed into was now empty. The only thing that remained was the spare bed Jake had in there before you’d showed up on his doorstep.

With Odette full of spaghetti and clean as a whistle, it was Jake's turn to wind down. A glass of whiskey and an episode of Lost seemed like a good pair.

“I still don’t understand what’s happening besides they crashed on an island?” Jake chuckled as he held his phone up to his ear. Amilia stood in Payback’s kitchen still trying to get the two dishes she wanted to make a special at the Hard Deck right.

“I’ve watched that show twice through now, trust me Flyboy it gets better.” Jake loved that nickname. Flyboy. If anyone else tried to call him that in a condescending tone the same way Amilia did he’d punch them straight in their throat. But Amilia was Amilia. “Just trust me on this one, you’ll be hooked.”

“Are we still good for brunch tomorrow? Ten, at Prestons?” As Jake asked Amilia if she was still all in, the power cut out, leaving him alone in the dark of his living room with just his phone torch to guide him.

“Yeah I’m good—“ Jake could practically hear the smile on her face.

“Did you guys just lose power?” Jake asked as he padded out of the garage to check the fuse box, he’d never had an issue with his electrical system since moving in.

“No—we’re fine here? Why did you?” There was a pit forming in Amilias stomach, a bad feeling had crept itself up her spine as she turned to lean on the counter. Listening intently. There was a frown prominent upon her face, she didn’t like this, not one bit. They were on the same block.

“Yeah just now, hang on for a second I’m gonna put you on speaker while I use my flashlight.” Jake was pretty convinced he had just blown a fuse somehow, he grew up in an old Texan homestead that had dodgy wiring from decades past. He knew a thing or two about amateur hour electrical circuits. “You there?” Jake cooed as he looked around at the fuses, nothing seemed to be out of place.

All except for one that had been flipped off.

“Yeah I’m here, everything good?” Just as Jake went to flip the breaker back on, he went down with a groan. A shape pain radiated across the back of his head as he dropped his phone and fell to the ground unconscious. “Jake?” Amilia gasped on the other line. “Jake are you there? This isn’t funny—“ Again, there was no reply.

But there was blood pooling out of the back of Jake's head from the two by four he’d been struck with so unexpectedly. It was a free pass into his home, up to where his favourite little girl was sleeping.

Amilia's heart sank into her stomach at what she heard next. Jake's phone had skimmed under the toolbox, out of sight out of mind.

“Sorry, Seresin—“ Jaidyn chuckled as he couched to wave a hand in front of Jake's unconscious face. “But that was fucking personal.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~****~***~

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment// jake seresin #rooster bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction

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louloulemons-posts · 8 months

Text

Oil At The Coffee Shop VIII

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie and Reader go on a date.

Word Count : 1.9k

Warnings : Not proof read, little bit spicy, no actual smut, love bites, kisses, mini angst at the end, eddie and reader are just nervous and cute, rambly.

Fic Masterlist

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Waking up your head was sore, you’re never letting Robin make you a drink again. Sitting up you rubbed your face, trying to wake yourself more.

Pushing back the blankets, your feet met the chilly floor beneath you. Trying to remember last night, you remembered Steve, Robin, Eddie.

Wait. Eddie.

He was here. He brought you home. You’d kissed him. Holy shit you’d kissed him. And now you had to face him.

Leaning down he pressed his lips against your forehead. “If you wake up and you want to kiss me, you’re more than welcome too.”

Holy shit. Did I want to kiss him? Of course you did. But you also didn’t want to mess us up. He means so much to you, one of your best friends, one of your favourite people.

He told you if you wanted to kiss him, you could. And you really really wanted to.

It was decided then. Heading out of your room, you were about to walk to the lounge when you remembered, your teeth, you need to brush your teeth.

Running to the bathroom, you did so. Okay now you were ready. Were you? Yes, yes you were.

Finally heading to find the boy, you left the bathroom. On the sofa lay Eddie, fast asleep, curls spread out all over the pillow.

He looked beautiful. His leather jacket was hung up by your coats, his arms clad in tattoos were on show as his costume meant he was wearing a vest. His eyes were dark, from where he’d smudged the eyeliner in his sleep.

You felt bad disturbing him, but your heart pulled you in his direction. Sitting down next to him, softly bringing your hand up to his face and hair.

His face leaned into your palm, stirring slightly. “Good morning Sweetheart,” his said, voice thick with sleep. It sounded … well the sound of his voice did something to you.

“Hi,” you spoke quietly.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asked, eyes fluttering open, the most beautiful dark coffee colour. “It’s okay, thank you for taking care of me.”

“Anytime.”

“So um … about last night.” He reached up to touch your face, “Yeah, what do you remember?”

“Considering Robin put about half a bottle of vodka in my drinks, quite a lot.”

“So um you remember-“

“Kissing you? Yeah and what you said to me after, I also remember that.”

“Right,” he said, pushing himself up, so you were sat face to face, “And how are you feeling about that?”

You didn’t say anything, putting your hand in his curls, pressing your mouth to his. His hands went to your face, pulling you as close to him as physically possible. Opening your mouth slightly, he tongue slid in, softly caressing yours.

Moaning slightly, you tugged his hair, his hands slid down your to your neck and then one on your side. He pulled you onto his lap, pulling away. Pecking your lips softly. One. Two. Three times.

You smiled, giggling softly, feeling his own against you. “I take it you’re feeling good?” he teased. “What on earth gave you that idea?” you grinned at him.

“Just came to me is all,” he spoke against your lips, kissing them again. “I like you Eddie,” you spoke.

“I like you too Sweetheart,” he pecked your mouth.

“Maybe um … we could you know go on a date? Get late breakfast?” you said to him, nervous. “I’d really like that, but I have a better idea. It’s a surprise though,”he offered.

“Yeah that sounds good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you kissed his cheek.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie left a little while after, he didn’t want to leave, he kept kissing you, pulling you close to him. Not wanting to let you go.

You were going on a date, you were glad you’d prepped and made so many cakes and baked goods. Your hot food would have to be something simple, a soup and grilled cheese?

You showered, cleaning off the drunken feeling from the night before. You now stood in front of your clothes, wrapped in a towel unsure of what to wear.

Something cute, but not trying too hard - Eddie would know if you were. Jeans, a tee and a cardigan. Converse. Great, let’s do that.

Eddie said he’d be back around 4, and it was now 1. Plenty of time. You dried your hair and made a start of your makeup. Just lightly doing it, nothing too bold just the everyday face you’d been doing for years.

As soon as you were done, you did your hair. Once again in one of the styles you did in your day to day life. You knew Eddie and he knew you, you didn’t have to do the awkward small talk nice to meet you thing. You could just be you and Eddie.

Once your hair and face were done, you put your outfit on. Looking at yourself in front of the mirror, you looked cute. Your shoes could wait for a minute, you tidied up the lounge from where Eddie had slept, put clothes back in the wardrobe.

The kitchen was nice and clean, and the shop downstairs was ready to go for the week. After your tidying, you slid your shoes on, fighting with the laces.

You don’t know why you were so nervous, it was just Eddie.

There was a knock on the door which made you jump, the two staircase thing was always something that scared you. One straight from the alley beside your home, where your car was parked, and the other straight up from the shop.

Pulling the door open you smiled when you saw Eddie, “Hi,” you said.

“Hi. You look … you look beautiful.”

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I brought you these,” he said, handing you a bouquet of Dahlias. “Oh Eddie they’re stunning, come in, I’ll put them in some water.”

Following you back into your apartment, Eddie stood at the counter watching you fill up an old vase. Deciding on cutting them later on, they’d look pretty either way. “Thank you Eddie.”

“It’s okay Sweetheart, you ready to go?”

“Almost,” you said, grabbing your bag from the hook, “Ready.” The man held out his hand for you, linking your fingers together.

Grabbing your keys as you walked passed the bowl they were in, you locked up and were on your way.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Okay Halloween may have been yesterday, but there was one final drive in horror movie. Halloween itself was playing, Eddie had reversed into a spot, opening up the back of his van.

Inside lay a picnic blanket, thick woolly ones and soft pillows. Eddie took your hand, helping you climb into the back, following after. “I brought snacks and some drinks too,” he spoke quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

The opening credits for the movie began to play on the huge screen in front of the cars.

“Come on let’s sit,” you said to him, taking his hand and pulling him down with you.

Sat next to each other, you rested your head on Eddies shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. Getting comfortable with one another. “Thank you for taking me home last night,” you said to him.

“Course Sweetheart, no trouble at all.”

“Thank you for doing this too.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, now looking at your face, “Never have to thank me, and this is for both of us. Something nice for us to do together, like when we went to the diner.”

“I like spending time with you Eddie.”

“I like it too. You’re like my favourite person.”

You gasp lightly, “Oh my, I’m so telling Dustin.”

“Christ,” he sighed, “Please don’t,” he joked.

“Can’t take it back now,” you smiled at him, teasingly.

His eyes scanned your face, finally landing on your lips. Looking at you, he pulled as face, as if asking if he could. You wanted nothing more, nodding.

Leaning down he pressed his lips to yours, his hands finding your face as your own held his shirt, tangling your hands in it. His lips were intoxicating, if you didn’t have to breathe you’d do this forever.

Tugging him closer, your hands came to rest in the curls at the nape of his neck - maybe your favourite place to touch. Tugging lightly, Eddie moaned into your mouth.

Eddies hands moved from your face to under your thighs, pulling you onto his lap. Legs resting on either side of his so you were straddling him.

The kisses became more passionate, tongues tangling, lips bruising. His hands rested on your back as your fingers continued to pull his curls. The sounds he made were beautiful.

It went straight through you, sending shivers everywhere. Your hips ground down against him, making you let out a soft sigh. Eddie pulled back, eyes dark with lust.

Touching his face gently, you peck his lips. Completely different from the seconds before, you pressed your lips to his cheeks, forehead, nose, then slowly and softly down his neck.

Kissing softly, you began to bite down, sucking his neck. Low enough so he could keep them hidden, but high enough he’d have to be aware of where his shirt sat.

Pulling you closer, he couldn’t help bucking his hips. Moaning and groaning, running his fingers down to the bottom of your shirt under your cardigan.

Dragging your lips lower, you kissed his collar bones, making him gasp, You felt the difference between the scars and untouched skin. What happened to him?

Grinding down on him again, he spoke, “Sweetheart,” he sighed, “Baby we have to stop.” He pulled you back gently, his lips were kiss bitten, and cheeks flushed, light bruises forming on his neck.

“S-sorry,” you said softly, brushing your fingers over his new forming love bites. “It’s okay, I just … Sweetheart I don’t want our first time to be together to be in a field, in my crummy van with loads of people around.”

“Maybe the second time?” you asked, teasing smile on his lips. “Sure thing,” he gave you a crooked smile. “Okay,” you laughed.

“Okay. Now you gorgeous girl, let’s watch this movie,” he said, pulling you off of his lap, keeping you cuddled to him. He pressed his lips to your head.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

After the movie ended people started filtering out of the large field, you and Eddie had climbed back up to the front of the van.

You had stayed cuddled up during the whole movie, only innocent touches.

Now driving you home, Eddies hand was on your thigh, fingers entwined with your own. “I had fun tonight,” you smiled.

“Me too.”

“Would you um … maybe want to stay tonight? You can say no, just an offer.”

Eddie sighed, you knew what was coming. “Sweetheart there’s a lot I need to tell you before we can go any further than this. I should have told you before.”

“Tell me.”

“When we get back. It’s gonna take a while and it’s not just my story to tell.”

“Okay,” that’s all you could say. You had no idea what he needed to tell you. You could only worry.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : ooooooohhhhh 🥵

Thank you so much for reading 🤍

taglist : @corrodedseraphine @flawiette @witchwolflea @emxxblog @plk-18 @vintagehellfire @lma1986 @squidscottjeans @eddiesguitarskills @nanas-lasagna

let me know if you want to be added 🤍

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jae-bummer · 1 year

Text

Good Hair Day

Request: For your request prompts, would you please do a Soulmate AU with Hoshi from Seventeen? I don’t find very many fluffy, happy Hoshi stories. That man has such beautiful eyes and I LOVE when he has plushy cheeks! It makes me want to give him a kiss and a cuddle. I was also very impressed with his humble attitude and manners when he was on Suga’s Suchwita episode. Sorry for rambling and thanks in advance. 😋

Prompt:

11) Soulmate AU

If you dye your hair, your soulmate's hair color changes as well.

Pairing: Seventeen Hoshi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

It was only 6 AM when Hoshi was forced to roll out of bed for his schedule. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he eased himself from his warm blankets and made his way toward the bathroom.

"Nice hair," Coups laughed, emerging into the hallway at the same time Hoshi stepped from his room.

Headed in the opposite direction, Hoshi stumbled into the older member and grumbled a sleepy "shut up."

So what if his morning hair was a nightmare? That was the case for almost every single one of the guys in this group (Seungcheol included). All he had to do was throw on a hoodie and patiently wait for his turn in the stylist's chair.

Shouldering his way into the bathroom, Hoshi stood before the sink and groaned.

Not again.

Blinking hazily at his own reflection, he plopped his forehead against the cool surface. Out of all days, why did his soulmate pick TODAY to go cotton candy pink?

"Seize the day!" you cackled, smoothing on another layer of hair dye.

"You are unhinged," your best friend, Ash, laughed from her spot on the toilet lid. "And I kind of like it."

"This person," you continued slowly. "Has been dying their hair nearly every other month since I've known them."

"Well, you don't know them," Ash interrupted. "But go on."

"Oh, I know them alright," you muttered.

For what had been the better part of the last ten years, your hair color had changed as often as the weather. You were responsible for approximately two of those changes, and they were both out of necessity. Job interviews were a mandatory life occasion, and your soulmate would have to get over having brown hair for a few months. Mint green would not be getting either of you hired anytime soon.

Which made you wonder, what exactly did your soulmate do for a living? How did they get away with having such vibrant fashion colors in everyday life? Why did your soulmate seem to have the biggest commitment issues with something as simple as hair?

"I'm only giving them a taste of their own medicine," you sighed, finally setting down the tinting brush. Examining your work, you nodded in satisfaction. "Let's see how their boss reacts to this when they wake up tomorrow."

"Maybe they're a hairdresser?" Ash theorized as she watched your slow decent into madness. "Oooh, or maybe a clown for children's parties?"

"A clown?" you cringed. "I like your enthusiasm, but could we go for something more..."

"Aspirational?" she laughed. "Sure, Y/N. Maybe they're a famous musician and after you meet them, you won't have to worry about anything besides ugly hair colors ever again."

"If they were famous, I would have clocked them by now," you grumbled. "I haven't seen Harry Styles walking around with fire engine red hair."

"You haven't seen Harry Styles walking around in general," Ash laughed. "Give yourself, and your soulmate, the benefit of the doubt."

...

"I need an adult!" Hoshi screeched across the dorm. The sun had hardly risen, and he was already launching into panic mode. "Like an adultier adult! Someone who has a much better handle on adult life and adult problems!"

"It doesn't take much," Jeonghan croaked. Collapsing onto the couch, he rubbed at his eyes before glancing up at the pacing Hoshi. "Holy shit, have you ever seen the Trolls movie? Because your head-"

Hoshi stopped his pacing and pointed an accusatory finger at his member. "I am very sensitive right now. Choose your words carefully."

Jeonghan leveled a stare in his direction. "Fine. If I don't have something nice to say, I won't say anything at all."

"Well, we both know that's a lie," Hoshi muttered as he went back to pacing. "What do I do? How do I fix this?"

"Alright first, I need you to calm down," Jeonghan nodded. "Second, I'd like you to make me a cup of coffee."

Throwing a dirty look over his shoulder, Hoshi continued to stomp back and forth.

"Fine," Jeonghan groaned. "Get me my wallet."

"Why am I going to get your wallet?" Hoshi argued. "What is your wallet going to do for the disaster on my head? We have a shoot today and the concept is going to be ruined and it's going to be all my-"

"If you stopped to take a breath," Jeonghan interrupted. "I would tell you that I have a business card inside said wallet. On that business card is the information for a very talented hairdresser who takes hair emergencies very seriously."

Dropping to his knees, Hoshi clasped his hands together. "You are not the hero I deserve, but a hero nonetheless."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how the quote goes, and I'm mildly offended for some reason?" Jeonghan said, narrowing his eyes.

Already up and rummaging through Jeonghan's wallet, Hoshi yanked out the business card. "I owe you one."

"I'll take that one and use it for a coffee," Jeonghan nodded. "The hair can wait."

....

Strolling down the street, you felt a new sense of freedom wash over you. Your hair had been nearly every color under the rainbow (including the pink you were currently rocking) but nothing had ever felt as good as this. It wasn't as if you had something against your soulmate, it was quite the opposite. You were excited to meet them, whoever they were, but you also wanted them to be surprised by you for once.

Humming to yourself, you decided at the last minute to veer toward a cafe you spotted across the road. For such an adventurous new day, you deserved a little treat.

Just as you began to step off the sidewalk, someone walking in the opposite direction slammed into you.

"Hey!" you yelled, tumbling away from your assailant.

"Shit!" the stranger gasped, immediately leaning down to help you up from the sidewalk. "I was so distracted; I didn't see you coming. I'm so-"

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man who was now leaning over you. He was extremely handsome, albeit dressed oddly for the warm spring weather. He wore a black hoodie with the drawstrings pulled as tightly as possible around his angular face. You studied his features for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what was familiar about him.

As your eyes met, he paused and had suddenly gone still. No longer focused on helping you up, it looked as if his mind had gone somewhere a million miles away.

"Uh, hello?" you asked, waving your hand in front of his face. "Random stranger? Helping me off the ground? Did you glitch?"

"Your hair," he chirped. "When did you dye it?"

You could only blink in response as his question sank into you.

"Look man," you said, finally finding your voice. With a few grumbles, you pushed yourself to your feet again and stared down the man who was acting much too odd for your liking. "I'm not sure what your problem is, but-"

Wordlessly, he continued to stare at you as he pulled down the tightened hood of his jacket.

Pink. So pink.

"I'm Hoshi," he said dumbly, a nervous smile playing across his lips. "And I think I need to sit down because I might pass out."

After a short discussion verifying when you had actually dyed your hair and a longer discussion based around your hair history, it was pretty much confirmed. It had taken a decade, but you had finally found each other.

"I never thought this day would happen," you admitted. You felt lightheaded and damn near giddy. It didn't matter if the two of you looked like bright pink idiots in the middle of the street. You had each other now.

"Me either," Hoshi breathed with equal amounts of shock. Seeming to come a bit more to his senses, a little crease formed between his brows. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Uh," you croaked, looking up at him in dismay. You still didn't really know him and didn't necessarily like how open ended his question was.

Shaking his head as if to correct himself, he smiled. "To the hairdresser. Do you want to come with me to the hairdresser?"

"The pink just not doing it for you?" you grinned.

Reaching up, Hoshi tugged playfully at one of your strands. "While I like the color," he nodded. "Very much. Like so much-"

"You don't have to explain!" you laughed. "I get it."

"No really, I love it. If I could be this color pink for the rest of my life-"

"Hoshi," you laughed, placing your hand in the air between the two of you.

"Okay, I have a semi-important work thing today and I need black hair," he smiled sheepishly. "Would you...maybe want to come with me?"

You pretended to think for a moment before nodding. "Of course I would."

"Great! I mean, totally, yeah," Hoshi stumbled awkwardly. "It's only a few blocks away, if you don't mind."

Watching Hoshi be so pleasantly overwhelmed warmed something inside of you. Nodding confidently to himself, he slid his palm into yours and laced your fingers together. "I'm holding my soulmate's hand."

"As am I," you confirmed, trying to ignore the heat rising up your neck.

"And now I'm walking with my soulmate to change OUR hair," he grinned. Glancing at you from his periphery, you could tell how your happiness egged him on. "Did you catch that, Y/N? We're going together to change our hair."

"I caught it, Hoshi," you laughed.

"And we get to do this forever," he said quietly, chancing a look your way. "Isn't that the coolest?"

"I honestly could not think of anything cooler."

#kwon soonyoung #kwon soon young #hoshi #seventeen #svt #seventeen hoshi #svt hoshi #hoshi scenarios #hoshi soulmate au #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #hoshi fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt hoshi fanfic #svt hoshi soulmate

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blackstarchanx3new · 1 month

Text

FSR rambles 20

If you go with the viz translation, Green might have considered he had to kill Vio in that fight lmfao.

I lean very much on he wasn't going to and wanted to just knock his ass out but the flicker of "Oh shit. I might have to do something horrible" is still a present thought added here.

Since we KNOW Vio has a scar from Blue tossing that rock, and Blue even brought up he wonders how bad Green's scar is Green clutching his stomach here is uhhhh. Concerning haha.

Not beating the "Vio fucked up your stomach" allegations there Green.

Dark Link might have not really gotten the POINT of Green remembering this fight.

or maybe he's just too distracted to care.

Green's fucking face when Dark says "I LIKE VIO TOO!" gets a fucking laugh out of me because holy shit he looks pissed.

Like the audacity of that statement given everything is so funny.

Dark flipping hair colors depending on who he's imitating/talking about is just a fun visual detail and makes me very happy this comic is in color.

Jealousy...It's best served with Depression From Dark Link.

Because dude just keeps sinking back into a depressive state. It's almost like Dark just, doesn't want to talk about himself at all with Green.

He'd rather Green talk about himself/his experiences.

SOooo since I'm here to give all the answers:

"Why WAS Dark crying in this scene?"

Cause of Vio.

He was crying Vio's tears.

His hair has changed to vio's color, and he doesn't even realize he's crying till Green points it out.

There's also the idea he didn't realize Green was TALKING to him since he's not used to being noticed.

Hehe flashback.

So something to note: Blue didn't talk to vio, but just came to sit with him...Weird.

I'm sure there will never be a follow up about that weird detail and it was thrown in for absolutely no reason. :D

So to loop back in on why Dark Link was crying, Vio is just, busted up on the inside about all the bullshit with Shadow Link.

But isn't really allowing himself to express that in any real way.

I added this in cause I felt we didn't get much closure on all the bullshit Vio did in the OG manga due to time. So, here ya go haha.

haha guts spilled.

Vio really sums it up though. He "did" a lot of things by taking NO action. The guilt of inaction is haunting him HARD right now and it's just eating him up inside.

A continuous motif is when shown anything involving what Vio did to Shadow his face is obscured or not detailed, pitch black in shadows.

In this scene it's goopy which just adds this suffocating feel to his actions and words.

Vio's literally drowning in regret over his actions and can't reconcile with what he did.

Smth I honestly think the all ages rating completely holds back on us in the OG. Like I don't need over the top "oh nooo what have I become" but a LITTLE acknowledgement that vio watched Shadow (or at least it's heavily implied) kill people and outright text that he watched Shadow burn a forest would be nice.

We didn't see much of the consequences of Vio's actions even in just a self reflective idea despite them being SO HEAVILY FEATURED in the og manga.

Like we see the actions. We get no real closure for how vio is feeling about it. It's so odd.

Agh. So many emotions so hard to articulate the stuff behind them. XD

Green watching back on a past memory with just, a forlorn look on his face.

Dark is STILL crying and Green goes to wipe away his tears which just oomf.

Dark and Green's relationship is one I love VERY MUCH from a LOT of angles.

In a lot of ways in this scene specifically Dark is a stand in for Vio.

Green's wiping away Vio's tears from Dark. But it's still a sweet action regardless. He's showing kindness to an entity that hasn't been all that kind to him.

And on that note: Dark Link hasn't received much kindness from ANYONE.

Shadow's was basically entirely veiled in watching his own trauma from Vaati being thrown back in his face.

But there's not really strings attached to this action from Green. He's just wanting to comfort Dark, presumably as we'll see in a second BECAUSE he feels he failed when comforting Vio.

Anyway back to Vio and Green lmfao. I had too much to say about 2 panels of DarkGreen.

Vio questioning if Green hates him after this shit is a punch to the gut.

Haha guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

Green in FS just kinda fucked off and said "Screw them I don't care" when he was split up from them. (A reasonable response after so much bullshit lmfao)

but in doing so it opened him up to feeling a LOT of guilt over what DID go horribly wrong.

And it all sank in in this moment.

And current Green just watching back with sadness while giving Dark affection just aghhhh.

Pain. All I know is PAIN.

Honesty, togetherness. Pls kiss-

But as morbid as Green's words are it's true. Whether they succeed or fail at least they're together now.

Doesn't mean he's not still scared as hell.

This is the kind of characterization I wish we got from green in the og.

Like his bad leadership skills aren't really addressed in an impactful way outside of him fucking off for a bit haha. Which is never really brought up again after the pyramid bit and it only does in relation to how it affected HIM and not his team as a whole.

Green being more open about how he's a flawed leader is just smth I enjoyed adding.

*Laughs in Vioxgreen*

And I'm not sorry either.

Funny how HERE Vio is talking about the downside of being Link while in current day he's the one who wants to go back to that...

Just a fun food for thought thing.

The kiss is very much spurred from "Damn you're being nice to me rn."

Think you broke him there Vio.

Vio's no fucks given attatude really does boil down to "I've made so many mistakes what's another one" when it came to kissing Green.

Not that Green minded much haha.

Also hilarious you make such a disgusted face at the notion of smooching Shadow Link when page 358 is a moment green-

but yeah Vio's self loathing is on full display here and green's just like "Nah bro. but...you're a good boy-"

Smth I enjoy about Vio is just how much ANY link could be like him if they had enough removed from them.

Vio as a character to me is very much a side of Link that is completely willing to do ANYTHING to succeed and has NOTHING holding him back. Resulting in a very "not like link" link character.

The deadpan way Vio describes what he DID to Shadow Link.

Like in a lot of ways he's just. Numb. Like he's just dissociating with own actions.

It's less of a "Realization" that they're gonna have to deal with Shadow again at some point but the reminder still stings.

There's smth to be said on how I find a lot of people boil down the "Vidow is toxic thing" way to much and basically try to strip the convo of any nuance at ALL.

Here's an idea: They're both victims and perpetrators and they both care about each other but surprise surprise, being on two ends of the hero villain spectrum they were fucked from the start.

Vio lists what he did to Shadow here but Shadow was no fucking saint news flash: THEY TRIED TO KILL EACH OTHER. :D

They both did shitty as hell things to each other cause circumstances fucked them BOTH OVER.

Shadow: Pressured this bitch into joining him and DID NOT take NO for an answer and oh yeah tried to kill him when it turned out vio lied to him-

Literally wtf was Vio supposed to do when Shadow showed up in the woods. Pretending to be on his side just to not DIE if this massive lighting using man child decided to throw a fit if he kept saying no. Their entire team got wasted to shit by this guy and he tried to kill green at the start of the mangaaaaa.

it's almost like coercion is bad or smth...

Imo it's clear they care about each other it's freakin' circumstance that fucked them both over.

In terms of what they did to EACH OTHER I'd say Vidow is pretty even on that board. (If we don't count what Shadow did to other people in which, lmfao Shadow, the bad guy character is clearly more evil)

I have a lot of thoughts about Vidow lmfao.

I happen to like the fact they're a doomed romance I can give a happier and worse ending but that's just me-

Green and Vio after kissing:

😳

but yeah lol thanks for your input Green I'm sure Vio appreciates it. XD

Haha very funny Vio.

Though there is smth to be said about how Vio spent who knows how long sleeping next to Shadow Link that sleeping alone after that would be weird.

Oh Green. Sweet Sweet Green.

THE FUCK ELSE WERE YOU MEANT TO DO!?

ENLIGHTEN US PLEASE!?

Thank you dark for telling him affectively to stfu.

Dark's eyes being white with Blue is very unnerving and I like it. XDD

I'm just gonna say it:

I am in love with the last panel for a LOT of reasons.

So many.

Like idk where to even start holy shit.

1st of all: Dark giving green the flower. I've shit posted he wanted Green to eat it but that's not a joke lmfao.

2nd of all: Dark Link being a sweetie not only in his actions but his words. It was very fun to write him with someone he truly deeply respects.

Vaati he considers too dumb to live and Shadow he straight up thinks is the evilest entity alive. Zelda he barely interacted with and I've given my thoughts on them I think but like, there's not enough there to really deeply dive into yet.

Green, GREEN IS SOMEONE HE OUTRIGHT LIKES! And we get to actually see Green and Dark interact for an extended period UNLIKE Dark and Zelda. (I will have a LOT to say about them later lmfao)

And what Dark is saying here just, is the truth. Green is downplaying what he did MAJORLY, and Dark getting him back into a realistic sense of what is even feasible for one person to do is a welcome thing.

Overall I'm very happy with the dialogue I ended up with being "You did what you could with what you knew, that's all anyone could ask of you."

It's words I think a lot of people need to hear at one point or another.

Also, Dark Link is in a very similar boat AS GREEN. Vaati puts insane expectations on him and acts like he's a failure for not meeting them. Dark hasn't quite been hit with the "i'm not good enough" stick yet to take any of that seriously but they are in a similar boat of having the weight of their own worlds on their shoulders.

This is an experience he can actually RELATE to Green on in his own way.

In a lot of ways, darks lack of insecurity, and him kind standing up for Green here is a reflection of how he doesn’t view himself as a failure despite being treated like one. He's seen failure and doesn't deem Green or himself failures and won't beat around the bush in saying as much.

Overall I think the point that Dark makes, that sometimes there is nothing else you can do. And digging yourself into a guilt hole is not helping. Reminding yourself "I did what I could with what I knew" is a good thing to keep close to your heart. I think that point feels very strong coming from him. XD

You as a single person can't fix everything and you shouldn't have to.

Dark's infamous bitching about Vaati doing NOTHING while he does all the work, and him saying to Green "Bro you did the best you can" feels so personal and well indented coming from him. Which ah, has been so lacking in someone who thus far has been around people like Shadow and Vaati. XD

3rd of all:

This highlights an aspect of Dark that has been, rather shrouded in a questionable variable.

If he can TRUELY be a helpful entity or if he's only really evil. Obviously there's clues that Dark is more than what he seemed at first since he uttered that he wanted kisses and cuddles lmfao.

But this highlights the "Dark is a fucked up therapist" angle.

Lastly this whole interaction just stands out as smth that doesn't benefit Dark in a single way. In fact it might actually be a detriment to him.

One of his self described tasks is to destroy their mentality so they can't do anything to Vaati. But respects Green too much to not say smth when Green is being an idiot towards himself. XD

Having Dark being a nuanced character is smth I enjoy a lot because he's just so complicated. Shadow's whole "I'm the hero link think" didn't go beyond basically just jabbing at Link there was a dude with his face running around being bad and reveled in being bad.

But I like exploring a character who TRUELY thinks they are like Link and not just doing it as a jab. Dark's delusions that he IS a good hero is what makes him so fun to me. (I do like Shadow's characterization but making Dark and Shadow substantially different from each other was the goal. XD)

Cause Dark Link's thoughts that he's a hero aren't skin deep or just him talking himself up vs Shadow. Dark's mind is constantly contradicting itself to what he's supposed to be doing.

His main goal often defaulting to just wanting connection with others even if it kinda bites his other goals in the ass. Cause dude is lonely as hell as well as depressed and connecting with others kind of becomes his main driving force vs his actual purpose. XD

Suffice to say: I like this one panel a lot and DarkGreen as a whole means a lot to me from a story standpoint not just pure shipping fodder. XD (Even though unironically I do think they're one of the best ships in the comic from a dynamic standpoint.)

I think Dark is an important character in EVERYONE progressing their development in FSR and I do like how he's so flexible as to be a good foil or nudge characters in certain directions.

Darkgreen as a dynamic specifically just hits good cause of how it feeds into Green's arc of accepting help and listening to the fact he's not a failure and that this time, he doesn't have to pile things on his own shoulders and he can rely on his team. (Which is similar to his arc from the manga but the twist here is that he feels he needs to bare the weight of being the team leader.)

Dark kind of ended up being a "Safe" person to talk about his anxieties about.

Which is very ironic.

Lmfao. Green wasn't expecting that at ALL from this dude.

panel 2 is funny cause haha more funny out of pocket things Dark says involving "romance" (His urge to be close to people)

The "huh?" "Huh?" back and forth is inspired by smth in AOT lmfao go figure but two characters "huh?" ing at each other just gets a laugh out of me.

Like they're both confused to shit.

Green especially must have a ton of crap going on up there because this dude is ALL OVER THE PLACE during this conversation but admitting "Hey I'd want you to kiss me too" is probs the weirdest part lmfao.

The absurdity and audacity is just, laughable.

I don't remember who exactly Dark is quoting but I know SOMEONE said "Shadow link's a really bad guy" (I really wanna say it is green lol) and I thought it'd be funny if Dark repeated them here considering the circumstances. XD

It sounds childish as fuck but also cements WHY Dark doesn't like Shadow Link immediately at least in context to Green. Since Green doesn't know anything about their scuffle.

Of course Green pries a bit because figuring out Dark and Shadow got beef is...interesting to say the least.

He saw Shadow shaking him like a magic 8 ball so he's not THAT surprised but still that's weird.

Dark fundamentally seems to not really understand why he pissed Shadow off or he's being obtuse on purpose. Take your pick. Either way he's very to the point on him perceiving Green as "Hating" Shadow Link.

When in reality it's a lot more complicated than that.

Green also catches Dark refers to himself as a hero here which, confuses him but also intrigues him a bit.

Since I'm pretty sure this is the first time Dark has proclaimed himself to be a hero in Green's presence. XD

And considering Green's context: That's a wild ass thing to say.

I think it's interesting Green feels safe enough to confide in Dark at all...

Or you could take it how I kinda thought and by mere proxy of Dark not really being someone he can't afford to not let down, he can be honest about his feelings.

The other 3 colors and Shadow he has to have an heir of control and leadership around. Dark, doesn't expect squat from him, Dark is kinda their enemy...and he isn't someone Green needs to have a mask around.

Dark also giving him wiggle room to feel safe for that second I think Green just kinda, broke and wanted to talk about his feelings with SOMEONE and that SOMEONE just happens to be the nightmare monster that's a mental terror.

I think he's also lowkey defensive about why he's still a bit ehhhhh relationship wise with Shadow Link. XD

Because Green's wording here is WEIRD

"Nothing was the same after...ALL of it." - is more in reference to their entire journey and while Dark is the curse destroying their head Green can't blame him for shit that SHADOW did to make them mentally unwell as hell haha.

Like...Well the things Green describes above.

SPECIFICALLY the "You didn't laugh while me and Vio nearly killed each other" is...AMUSING because Dark did just watch kinda in surprise at that lmfao. His take away from that fight was "You like Vio? I like vio too. ^w^"

Green's not aware that Dark did uh, goofy things involving vio at the start of this comic haha.

Green's general bitterness towards Shadow makes a ton of sense. As Green puts it, Shadow put them through HELL. And he has every right to be pissed I think even if Shadow helped them in the end.

1 - It's called denial sweetheart they were both in it last night. XDDDD Vidow be complicated ya just gotta accept it.

2 - I fucking love Dark Link. He's just a treasure. Confused by Vio and Shadow's confusing ass relationship.

3 - Green's got that sexy self reflection to make his opinions nuanced.

4 - Truth.

5 - Dark Link's like "Damn I found a smart boy"

I do love Green getting shy at Dark Link praising him haha.

The admittion Dark thinks Green is a good hero also gives insight into what Dark THINKS a good hero IS to begin with.

What's fun here is just how different of a character Green is to Vaati or Shadow. Dark Link (At this point) hasn't had anything to berate Green on being hypocritical or weird about. (That wasn't Green's direct insecurities that Dark was just parroting) When in comparison to Vaati or Shadow who are "lying idiots". XD

Green downplays any good things he does while wallowing in his mistakes And Dark's like "...What are you talking about???"

Also Green. That last statement. You shouldn't have said it haha.

1 - That moment where Dark just, freezes and stops talking and STARES. Greens' like "Uh...you okay" wordlessly.

2. Creepy face.

3. Oh dear it's worse. XD I cannot remove the inflections from that one Lazy town meme "WOULD YOU LIKE TOO!?" and it makes me laugh but Dark's in general just, creepy as hell in these panels.

Also fun time into getting into Dark Link blushing since I don't know if I've gone into that:

Dark Link blushes for a lot of reasons but tends to do it when he's emotionally unstable. And he FOR SURE IS after Green made that throw away statement that he's unable to see into memories.

Dark Link is ALL too eager to share that experience though. For better or for worse.

I call him a sweaty weirdo for a reason. Dude be sweaty. XD

This entire page is hilarious and horrible for Green but Dark having no emotional filters is the norm for him at this point hah.

The main take away here is that Dark wants a "yes" out of Green when it comes to letting Green see something.

Green's horrified "WHAAAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR FACE!?" is the first time someone's ACTUALLY referenced verbally that Dark makes disturbing expressions. XD

Which is another thing Dark does involuntarily when over excited. Like it's obvious Dark's not a normal human and I don't exactly think the hylian-ish form we see of him is his natural state. I think it's the result of him mimicking Link's appearance.

I think the interesting take away is that Green kinda catches on imediately Dark isn't acting this way to scare or hurt him but just has zero emotional regulation. But who'd fault Green for being scared from this behavior. XD

Dark's dialogue is all sorts of concerning here. Saying "They can watch whatever Green would like", which is very much a push to get Green to watch SOMETHING with him to a point where he doesn't care WHAT it is as long as they do it. But describes the process as "Sickening" which... Seems to throw the idea it'd be "fun" out the window but he proceeds to say "It'll be SO fun we'll both THROW UP"

Which uhhh.

Okay then buddy.

The response Green gives, which is to just gently push Dark off him is a far cry from how Vaati and Shadow treat him physically.

Green's got insane patience.

Which speaking of that, if Dark is ONLY used to physically violent actions towards himself, him shoving Green on the ground and not really thinking about it makes a lot more sense.

I think the most gentle thing someone's done was Shadow and Vaati patting him on the head.

It's funny to me how Dark kind of realizes his behavior was inappropriate from Green's reaction and apologizes. Which, again is smth you wouldn't expect out of your casual evil villain man.

Green comes to the conclusion that Dark is nuttier than a squirrel which...took ya long enough bud XD

Again Green kind of applies "This is a bad guy who's trying to trick me" logic. Which we know isn't really Dark's style.

Lying is what his DAD does after all-

Dark confusing the words "Catch" with like, the physical action of catching something which is just smth I find cute.

I'm sure I've touched on it before but Dark's conflation of "Fun" and "Pain" has been smth with him from the start of the comic. (Masochist much lmfao)

And on a level he kinda knows it'll make Green miserable to watch something with him but kinda doesn't care and just wants to do it WITH SOMEONE for once. Thus he doesn't want any payment because, well. Asking for payment would be rude.

I just like his completely broken logic on that because it shows how mangled Dark's idea of things like pleasurable and painful experiences are.

Green's determination is a turn on for Dark apparently.

Just kidding but Green. Green. Awww Green.

That's such a bad idea to look into Vio's memories stop.

Slot machine Dark was just a fun visual I thought would be weird unnerving, kinda funny and match Zelda quirkiness.

#four swords returns #four swords returns au #four swords adventures #four swords manga #four swords #loz fsr au #loz #dark link #fsr #fsr rambles #FSR rambles

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 6 months

Text

Unlikely Friends - S.Harrington

Summary - Lover’s lake was her favorite lake to skate on during winter break, usually only running into older men ice fishing. However, one night she runs into the captain of the hockey team, Steve Harrington. They become unlikely friends within the span of a night.

Word Count - 792

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/N, Munson!Reader no physical description is given, foul language, not proofread

Author’s Note - Welcome to day 19! 6 more days left! This is one of my favorite pairings ever, hockey player and figure skater.

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

There was one lake in Hawkins that she liked to go to in order to practice over the winter break, that lake was lover’s lake. Usually it was vacant except for some ice fishers but not this night. No, this night there was a boy who was skating around with a hockey stick. She had recognized him, the captain of the high school hockey team, Steve Harrington.

She went about her usual routine however, unbothered by the new presence around her. That was until she was hit square in the back with a hockey puck which sent her flying onto the ice.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” She heard his voice approaching her, panic lacing his tone.

“Holy shit that hurts! Goddamn Harrington! Do you have to hit that thing so hard?” She groaned out as she sat up, his hand reaching out to her to help her up to her feet, she gladly accepted and accepted the help.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” He repeated, still panicking.

“I’m good, I’ve had worse but damn those things are hard as shit. Now I understand why so many hockey players are missing teeth.” This made Steve chuckle, tension leaving his shoulders at her foul language and realizations. “What are you doing on the ice on Christmas eve?” She asked him, rubbing the spot on her back gently.

“I could ask you the same thing. Coach wanted me to practice my slap shots, obviously they need work since I completely missed the goal and whacked you in the back,” Steve rambled.

“I need to practice my new skills before my next practice. My coach wants my routine to be perfect, said my skills were average at best.”

“Your coach sounds like a bitch.” This made her laugh as she agreed. Steve offered to step off the lake for a bit so she could feel safe enough not to get hit with a puck again and they’d switch off every 30 minutes so they could get breaks.

Steve watched her, mesmerized by the leaps and twirls she was able to do without effort. She too, was mesmerized by how brutish Steve was on the ice but was an absolute sweetheart off of it. They continued switching who was on the ice for hours, chatting in between and getting to know one another. By the end of their turn taking, it was pitch black outside, the moon shining bright and the star glimmering. They sat on a boulder beside the lake and talked, and they talked.

They talked for hours, about everything and nothing at all. Venting about their coaches and some of the people on their team. As they both took off their skates and put on their shoes, Steve asked her, “How did you get here if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I walked, I don’t live too far away, I live in the trailer park with my dad and cousin,” She replied.

“Do you want a ride home? I don’t mind, the trailer park is on my way actually.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

On the walk to his car, Steve asked about her family and who her cousin was. “Eddie Munson, super senior, school freak. He’s my favorite person, he’s a great guy, just misunderstood.”

“I’ve never talked to him before but I know he doesn’t like jocks very much.”

“God no, most of them bully the shit out of him. Once he gets used to someone, you get to see the real side of Eddie.”

They talked through the entire car ride, which was short and hadn’t stopped until he pulled into the driveway of the trailer, two men sitting on her doorstep with cigarettes in their hands and waiting. She kissed Steve on the cheek before thanking him and leaving the car.

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried about you!” Eddie exclaimed, pulling his cousin into a protective hug.

“I was practicing for a while, met Steve and we lost track of time. I didn’t mean to scare you guys. I’m sorry,” She admitted.

“No need to apologize sweetpea. We’re just glad you’re home safe. We will be talking about that boy though,” Wayne butted in, kissing his daughter on the head before ushering the two teens inside. She waved at Steve one last time before the front door had closed behind her. She hadn’t left the area of the front door until she heard Steve’s car pull away and down the road. With a goofy grin on her face, she made her way into her room for the night. Happy she had the chance to get to know Steve Harrington. Happy that he wasn’t the asshole everyone said he was.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #wayne munson #stranger things #eddie st4 #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #strangerthings #stranger things fic

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craacked-splatters · 4 months

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"I know"

"Do u want to see what I added today?"

"Sure buddy"

(insane rambling below!)

Scrapbooks! Scrapbooks! Hell yeah!!

Hello to the 5 ppl seeing this👋 Ima be real Im running on 7 hours of sleep after 5day grind brain mushy rn and I scribbled everything maniacally by memory at 3am after having one of those revelation moments so I have no idea what I'm missing lmao. This is actually the first time drawing them like this 2. Really proud of it

and B4 u ask anything hear me out.

So like tmnt2012 mutant apocalypse am I right?

Yeah it's flawed and pacings off and stuff BUT! The implications it left behind are haunting and it has been stuck in my brain for years. One of the things that stuck with me was the fact that Raph and Don had stuff like April's tessen, Mikey's stuffed bear head, The Creeps containment jar, and Casey's skull(horrifying btw) with them and that it's like :((

I fully believe it was Donnie who collected and carried them everywhere in their car. Not only for Raph(to help with this memory)but also for himself.

Why? Well maybe I'm reading 2 much into it and it's also partly a HC of mine but also bc canonically Donnie has a bit of a hoarding habit collecting trinkets and pictures and stuff. He likes to keep things around that hold a lot of significant value to him.

We see this in The Creeping Doom during the intro

AND I swear he's got a literal wall of family photos in his lab somewhere I can't for the life of me find it but I know he did! He even took some to the farmhouse with him when they escaped during the invasion.

They're memories yk? Reminders..

Ok im having difficulty expressing this shit rn words r failing so like give me ur brain 4 a sec.

Imagine ur donbot.

You're stuck in a cold metal limbo for the rest of ur last remaining family members life. Everything and everyone you knew and cared about is dead and gone. Over thousands of species and ecosystems that made ur world unique wiped out. No more animals no more wild things no more blue clear skys. Death can't come for you. Not in a way that matters anymore.

And no matter where u go you are haunted by shadows of what once was. There are so many echoes and ghosts and cultures and stories and lives that were buried & left to rot by the gaping maws of fear & the desperate need to survive. No one cares for the past and the only other person around you can't remember it. Time will claim its domain again and there will be nothing left except empty metal husks to show sentience even existed in the first place.

Like holy shit he was just a kid bro and he never got the chance to even reach full adulthood!!! I can't possibly imagine the grief and guilt he must've carried with him all those years. He lost EVERYTHING

His family. His home. His world.

Did Donnie even get the chance to mourn??? Do u think his new body allowed it? Do u think he even ALLOWED himself to mourn? He had a hurt amnesiac brother who still needed to eat, who could still starve and bleed and die if they weren't careful enough.

So between his habits and the ✨Angst✨ and human pollution, him hoarding random ass things Wall-E style and making these shitty little scrapbooks or keepsakes didn't seem so far fetched to me. I also highly doubt there was enough time or resources to build shrines or graves in the middle of apocalypse. But yk honoring/preserving the memories of the things and ppl we love is natural for us so like SORRY if its a bit cringe of me wanting him to have SOMETHING to comfort him during the really bad days.

Even if its more bitter than sweet

Bonus doodads cuz I was indecisive:

The 1st was purple tinted cuz of donbot vision get it hehehe

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primalbeatsourhearts · 9 months

Text

Some Angel!Crowley HC's

Since I can't draw, ya'll are gonna listen to me ramble for a bit. This can either be a reverse omens au or a 'Crowley Returns to Heaven' thing. Whatever works, these are just idea's that I have and they can fit into either or. (If they don't, I'll separate it specifically)

Anyways:

- I have always LOVED the idea of Crowley being Raphael theory. Even tho my fanfics tend to cater to the idea of Angel!Crowley being Lucifer, I know our Lord and Savior Neil Gaiman said he wasn't. So this AU, Crowley is the Arch-Angel Raphael. Yes, Archangel with a Captial A so he's one of the big boi's. (I'll be referring to him as Raphael from now on)

-He is the youngest of all the Archangels. Basically the baby brother but he was actually very close with them. Though he was often in his own head, which resulted in him getting into more trouble than it's worth. That's fine though, everyone is used to his shenanigan's.

-We all know Raphael loved his stars, but we never see just how much. It isn't uncommon to see him cradling a newly born star in his hands, or singing lullabies that can still be heard (not as easily anymore, the noise pollution started drowning out the celestial songs).

-Raphael is also FEIRCLY protective of his stars. He's a relatively peaceful angel, never really made for war. But holy heaven is his wrath terrifying if you ever messed with his babies. He once left Gabriel shaking in his boots and fleeing the scene after a prank went wrong.

-He is an artist by nature and really doesn't do well with desk jobs. He figured out how to sleep before sleeping was even a thing when he started getting assigned paperwork. He swears God got the idea of sleeping from him. Gabriel thinks he shouldn't be as proud of that as he is.

-Speaking of Paperwork, Raphael is absolutely dogshit at it. If he isn't falling asleep while doing it and drooling all over the papers, his handwriting is SO messy that barely anyone can read it. He himself also struggles reading all the fine print and fancy lettering because his eyes are built to handle stars and galaxies. Not little tiny words.

-Doing paperwork got so bad that Raphael had to get an angelic assistant to help him out because he hated it so bad. The assistant often followed him around, reading out the paperwork as Raphael worked on whatever project he had at the time. This worked a lot better for all parties involved.

-Raphael and Lucifer often got into a LOT of mischief. They especially loved messing with Michael and Gabriel. Though neither of them liked Sandalphon at all, so he got the brunt of a lot of their harsher pranks. Raphael became especially menacing when he heard Sanalphon talking shit about one of his newly designed Nebula's.

-Raphael was never cruel to lower angels, in fact he was often quite kind to them. However, he often didn't notice them in the first place unless he genuinely needed something. He was often lost in his own head, imagining all sorts of future projects that he could work on. He would sometimes disrupt the conversation cause he came up with something, and would just leave in the middle of talking to anyone. -Though he did this with everyone, so no one took it to heart. Though they were quite surprised when someone saw him doing it to God too.

-When he does get into a conversation however, he is surprisingly snarky. You cannot count how many times he whispered something underneath his breath during one of the Archangel meetings that left Lucifer cackling in his seat.

-Once Raphael discovered fashion, that boy LOVED it. He loves wearing pure white, and especially having gold on his attire. He says it really brings out his red hair.

-His hair is also almost always long, he really loved the feeling of it and he found brushing it became a really soothing feeling to him. Though he wears it in so many different hairstyles that you'll never see the same thing twice a week.

-Raphael invented snakes and loves them dearly. So he often has snake memorabilia, and even has a large golden snake tattoo that crawls across his body.

-Raphael's eyes are very golden, and while he mostly stays in heaven, he still very much enjoys wearing sunglasses cause he likes the way they make him look. Plus it also helps hide his eyes when he's not paying attention to something.

-In the more recent years, Raphael is still in charge for tending and carrying for the skies and stars, but there comes a point where he can only do so much. So he asked if he could work somewhere else and now helps the angels paint the sunset/sunrise. So his clothing, face, and hands are almost always covered in pain but he very loves his work.

-Raphael's office is COVERED in plants. This boy loves his plants so much that he actively takes care of them in heaven and will even visit Heaven's nursery's to help nurture the plants before they are sent down to earth to grow.

-Speaking of Raphael's office, it is also covered in actual matter. Nothing is miracled as he much prefers the actual objects then the spawned in versions. Yes, he had a hard time fitting the desk in the elevator.

-Raphael is often brimming with questions and will NOT hesitate to ask them. He would annoy Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer or anyone he could get his hands on when he asked questions. Though in return, he will never fault anyone else asking questions. He will be honest in saying he doesn't know, if he doesn't know the answer.

-(Reverse Omens) Raphael thinks Unicorns are the coolest things in the world and will spend a lot of time with them. He was devastated to find out their demise on earth after the flood, and almost raged at God for that. He held his tongue.

-Being the angel of healing, Raphael has also been tasked with helping people heal. In the war, that is mostly what he focused on. He was an artist, not a fighter. Though he focused on healing both sides because he couldn't understand why everyone was hurting each other. Suffering never made sense to him.

-Raphael loved the concept of gender, and often changes between them a lot. Then the concept of the LGBTQ came out, and he loved it even more! Even if his permanent station isn't on earth, he LOVES going to Pride Parades whenever he can.

-(Reverse Omens) How he met the demon Azira was a long time ago, after he was assigned to painting. He grew curious of earth after finishing up a Sunrise, and decided to check it out. He met Azira and at first he was wary, but the demon's kindness and willingness to anwser questions made him stick around. Especially once Azira started showing him around. -Now him and Aizra meet as much as they can, but they do have jobs and are quite busy with their work. That is until the apocolypse and it meant no more sunrises or sunsets. No more plants, or animals, or fascinating humans or kids. Raphael didn't step up, all those millenium ago when the Great War happen. He'll step up now. Especially since his stars were also in danger of falling. Though he doesn't understand why the demon is so hesitant.

-(Crowley Goes with Aziraphale AU) Raphael wasn't really what Aziraphale expected when he took Crowley up to heaven with him. He knew him only for those few precious moments he had, but he also forgot just how spacey Raphael was. How he utterly detested being in charge. How mishevious he was. How little he cared about paperwork and would rather fly off with his stars. Aziraphale didn't realize how much the angel changed when he became a demon and he found himself wanting Crowley back.

---------------- Am done for now! I may come back with a part 2 if I have more idea's but anyways I hope ya'll enjoyed the word vomit I spat onto you all :D

#good omens #good omens headcanons #angel crowley #crowley was raphael #reverse omens #crowley

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aquaquadrant · 4 months

Note

hey aqua, i'm here to ramble about your stupidly amazing au that's got me bouncing off the walls between chapters being posted

firstly, i put all the fics in a doc (because you know, I gotta keep track of what i've read and haven't read, and it's totally not because i want to save it forever and pass it on to my grandchildren)

the doc contains the warnings, summaries, a/n's and everything in between but i wouldn't think it would make a huge difference to the 100K WORDCOUNT

so here is is, the horrifying word count that is honestly longer than most actual published novels and the amount of pages, which to be honest, would be larger if this was actually printed in book size (font size proportionately to the page size), to which the page number would be.... too much, honestly. even I don't want to calculate that and i'm insane

now i assume you knew all this already, since you probably have also been writing this in a google doc to keep track of it, but then again docs slows down dramatically under 397 pages of brainrot-inducing writing so i dont expect you to be using it too often. if you are, congratulations and have a gold star

it's more of i'm collecting useless bits of information like this to show to whoever has read the series, because it's so good, it's so ridiculously amazing, and it so could be turned into a book if someone tried hard enough and i need people to back me up

heck, it's written so much better compared to most novels, it's just that good. i even turn to it when i don't feel like writing. i read it, and then through some miracle, i have all the writing talent and motivation in the world, seemingly having absorbed it from your work.

tldr: htpau is amazing. if you haven't read it you should read it. and it's that good that it literally could be a book. zero exaggeration. (can you tell that this thought has kept me awake many nights)

now hopefully you weren't too baffled to see such a long ask in your inbox, and hopefully you don't question me, as someone who hasn't read a proper novel in years, who has basically reread every chapter once or twice basically as soon as it comes out

i don't need therapy, i need more of your writing. (because hels no does chapter nine end like this) ba dum tss

and then, i leave you, with a gold star and many thanks ⭐

HAGAJDHJA HOLY SHIT

i do use google docs but i make a new one for every chapter for the reason u mentioned, once they’re past a certain page count it gets real slow and i don’t have the patience for that. so uh yeah, i don’t think i ever bothered to calculate the total running word count. it’s not the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i don’t think it will be by the time i finish it, but that’s definitely a NOT INSIGNIFICANT number of words, goddamn.

someone did bind one of my fics into an actual hard cover book once, just for their own personal use. man, that was sick. now i don’t think i’d ever try to alter a fic of mine to actually publish it, cuz so much of what i write hinges too much on the original content, but fan-bindings are A-OKAY so long as i get to see pics :3

anyway, no worries about the long ask, i love hearing from u guys. i’m flattered u went thru the trouble of consolidating it and i’m glad ur enjoying the au!

#hels to pay au #HTP ask

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 month

Text

More Than Words

A Rovickie one-shot with a side of Jargyle and Platonic Vargyle. Okay, platonic Vargyle turned out to be a big side. Oops.

Vickie had wanted to be paired up with Robin for their next and supposedly last mission, but Hopper had other plans. It might have been a smart idea, though, she thought. She would have just gotten distracted, but she hadn't really had a chance to talk with Robin since all of this happened. It all had to happen quickly, though, to save Hawkins. They were sure that this time, Vecna would be destroyed or, rather, they hoped he would be now that more people were in the know and were willing to help out.

Argyle and Vickie were on guard duty while the others took on the main mission. They all had their own little jobs. Vickie couldn't believe how much Robin had spoken up for her and trusted her enough to have her watch over Max. Jonathan had trusted Argyle enough to watch over Max as well. They didn't know the girl at all or the others, but Vickie was learning quickly that these people were family and they would do anything for each other. It was so clear to see.

"I don't like them either," Argyle spoke up.

Vickie stopped humming to Kate Bush, the music that was currently playing in the hospital room, and looked at Argyle, who stood on the other side of Max's bed.

"Pardon?" Vickie asked.

"Guns," Argyle said, raising his own. "You had this weird look on your face, man, I thought it was the guns. I hate having to use them, but I will if it means protecting this girl."

"I was just thinking about how close these guys are," Vickie said.

"And you feel like you're intruding a little even though they put their trust in you?" Argyle asked.

"Yes! How'd you know?" She asked.

"I'm more than just a pretty face, Lady Vickie," Argyle said, and then he paused. "I feel the same way, too. It feels odd. They all have this history, and I feel like we're both coming in during the final inning. . .did I get that right?"

"Yes, well, I'm glad I'm not alone in feeling this way. I know it's not the most important thing, right now. . .I just feel weird, and I'm glad to be helping here, but I also wish that I was out there with Robin and helping her, you know? I mean, what if she dies? What if I die and I never get to tell her how I feel? But again, there are more important things to worry about right now than that, but then I think about her lips and the fact that she rambles just like me - do you know how many people have told me to just shut up and that no one cares about what I think and the fact that Robin understands that, that she makes me feel like I'm not the only one in the world who does that, who's not a freak for talking like this - and holy shit, I just came out to you before coming out to Robin! I don't even know you!" Vickie exclaimed and slapped a hand over her mouth.

"It's alright, I get it. I'm the same way with Jonathan. I'm still not sure if he's still with Nancy or not," Argyle said. "We're both lone wolves with a shit ton of anxiety. I wanted so badly to help him with that when he first moved to California. . .this adorable boy, who looked completely out of his element. I just wanted to hug the stuffing out of him. We both had shitty dads and were both raised by a single mom with a ton of anxiety because of it. No one ever really wanted to be my friend before because people think I'm too weird, and I say stupid things, but most of it is just me trying to brighten people's day. School sucks, I just thought I could make their day, but it took me a long time to realize that they were laughing at me and then pretending to be my friend for my weed. Jonathan was never like that. He was my first real friend. He actually thought I was funny, and I didn't need to try so hard to be funny around him. I didn't have to be afraid when the laughter stopped with him."

"So, you drove him all the way from California to Indiana and risked your life doing so?" Vickie asked with a soft understanding smile.

"Wouldn't you do the same for Robin?" Argyle asked.

"I would," she said sweetly.

Argyle and Vickie shared a knowing smile with each other. It was nice to know that she wasn't alone with feeling this way, and she was starting to feel relieved that it was Argyle she had been stuck with. . .happily stuck here with. Vickie stared at Max's prone form and Argyle's eyes followed her line of sight.

"I hope she wakes up," Argyle said.

"Me too," Vickie said softly and touched Max's fingers. "Hey, I know that you don't me, but my name is Vickie, and this here is Argyle. We're looking out for you while your family is out there fighting for you. No pressure or anything, but I hope you're fighting just as hard as they are. I know my word doesn't mean anything to you because we're complete strangers, but I want you to know that we're going to fight just as hard for you."

"You should listen to her, man. She knows what she's talking about," Argyle said to Max. "And not just because she's also a redhead like you."

Vickie grinned, flashing her dimples at him. Suddenly, their radios crackled to life.

"Fuck! Goddamnit! Demogorgons in the hospital - stupid, Callahan!" Powell's voice said. "One is heading your way, Miss Fisher and Mr. Argyle!"

They had been guarding the entrance to the hospital along with some of the people who served and people who just wanted to fight. Vickie and Argyle paled. He raised his gun and faced the door while remaining on that side of the bed. His long hair was braided and out of the way. It was startling to see his usual soft face suddenly become hard. Vickie shook her head and turned away from him, pointing her own gun at the door. They heard the sound of the demogorgon coming closer, and then they heard it trying to get in. There were tons of objects blocking its path, and she hoped it was slowing it down. Heart pounding in her chest, she managed not to jump when it finally burst through the door. It opened its face and roared.

Vickie and Argyle began to fire immediately. The force of the bullets stunned it for a moment, and it flew back into the mirror that was hanging in the room. Shards of glass fell onto the floor. It only pissed it off. Argyle's weapon ran out of bullets, or it jammed, she wasn't sure. Either way, he tossed it aside and threw his entire body on top of Max's.

"You have to get to me before you get to her, asshole!" Argyle yelled as its claws swiped at his leg, causing him to bleed.

Vickie kept firing, but she ran out of bullets, too. The demogorgon roared again and moved closer, stumbling on the glass. It was bent down at an odd angle now. She saw a shard of glass on the ground and swiped it up immediately. Vickie used the hospital bed as a jumping off point and wrapped herself around its back. She plunged the glass into its neck, not caring that it was also cutting into her hand. Vickie screamed as she stabbed the thing in the neck repeatedly. She did a lot of damage, but it wasn't what stopped it or made it collapse. She fell to the ground with it, and a moment later, everything started shaking. Vickie moved to sit against the hospital bed, Argyle sliding down to sit next to her. She took Argyle's hand with her cut up one and held onto it tightly despite the pain. The shaking stopped a few minutes later.

"Do you think it's over?" Argyle whispered.

"I hope so," Vickie said. "I really hope this means it's done."

"The demogorgon is dead, so I think so," he replied.

"God, my hand is fucked up," Vickie whimpered.

"Yeah, so is my leg," Argyle said.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we? I think I know what this means now," Vickie said. "We're what Steve and Robin are, I think. What's that word. . .it's completely fallen out of my head."

"I think you're in shock, man," Argyle said. "So am I. I could go for some purple palm tree delight right about now."

"Yeah, me too," Vickie said and paused. "Wait, what's that?"

"Weed," he replied.

"Ah, never had any. . .always wanted to try, though," Vickie said.

"I'll show you the ropes," Argyle said.

"Thanks," Vickie said and winced.

"Platonic!" Argyle exclaimed.

"That's it," she giggled.

"I can't believe that I had to come to Indiana in the middle of Apocalypse to find my platonic soulmate," Argyle said.

"I feel like that should be on a shirt," she said and winced again. "God, my hand!"

"I have two good ones. I'll let you use my other one as long as you give it back," he said.

"Done. As long as you are willing to use my leg and give it back to me when you're done," Vickie replied.

They both burst into laughter, which is how the others found them after they came screaming down the hallway with news that they had won. They froze at the sight of them laughing and looked in confusion at the pair. Steve and Robin seemed to somehow get it, though, smiling at them in understanding. The smile slipped off of Robin's face when she saw Vickie's hand.

"Oh, my God! Vickie, your hand!" Robin exclaimed.

"I'm fine now that you're here," Vickie said as Robin knelt down next to her.

"Argyle! Your leg!" Jonathan exclaimed as he rushed over to him.

"All I need is a little bit of purple palm tree delight, and I'm good to go, man," Argyle said. "Also, Vickie wanted to try some."

"What the fuck? Who's there? It's fucking dark. . .can someone turn on the lights?" Max's voice startled everyone.

Lucas was by her bedside in an instant, jumping over the dead demogorgon to get to her.

"I'm here, Max," Lucas said.

"Lucas. . .?" Max asked. "Fuck, I'm blind, aren't I?"

"I'm here, Max," Lucas whispered as he placed his hand on her cheek. "I'm here."

The next morning, Vickie had woken up before anyone else. They were all at Steve's house, the base of operations doubling as a shelter as well. She was sitting in the kitchen, staring at her bandaged hand that was resting on the island. She wiped the tears away with her unbandaged hand, and then she hurried to clean her face when she heard familiar voices coming closer.

"I really think you're doing it on purpose, Robin," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen.

"My mother herself told you that I've been kicking in my sleep since the womb. You were warned," Robin said, following him.

"Whatever, I'm up now," Steve said. "Oh, hey, Vickie. Are you an early riser, or does your dad kick in his sleep, too?"

"No," Vickie giggled. "By the way, thanks for letting us stay here."

"You're welcome. The more the merrier. Although, I wish it were under better circumstances," Steve said.

Vickie burst into tears and threw herself into Robin's arms.

"I dreamed you were eaten by a demogorgon, and I couldn't save you!" Vickie sobbed. "And I never got to tell you how much you mean to me that I like you how I like boys, which I guess means I also like women. It's weird but a good kind of weird, you know. I mean, I should have known when I kept pausing on Phoebe Cates's boobs, you know?"

"You know, I'm going to go. . .somewhere else. Uh, I'm cool with it, by the way, Vickie," Steve said. "I'm bisexual too."

He left the kitchen. Vickie pulled back and stared at Robin.

"I'm bisexual?" Vickie asked.

"If that's what sounds right to you. . .I'm a lesbian," Robin said. "I like you how I've always liked girls. It's weird but a good kind of weird."

"You like me?" Vickie asked softly, sniffling.

"I really do. You absolutely drive me crazy in a good way, and I like the way you laugh, especially when I make you laugh. I like the fact that you have a good heart and you're willing to go out of your way to help people. You went above and beyond for Max. You and Argyle both. I love the fact that you ramble like me because I know I'm not the only one who does it, who's not alone in getting odd looks from people when you just can't stop the words from escaping. You make me lose my words more than anyone, and I honestly could just sit here rambling forever. . .to know that you would be there rambling with me would be a dream come true. You're the girl of my dreams, Vickie Fisher," Robin said.

"You're the girl of my dreams, too, Robin Buckley," she whispered. "You know. . .I think I've finally run out of words."

Robin grinned, picked her up, and set her on the counter before stepping in between her legs. Vickie's heart leaped into her throat, her stomach full of butterflies now. She wrapped her arms around Robin's neck and drew her in for a kiss. Her lips molded against Robin's perfectly, her lips as soft as she thought they'd be. There were so many good things to do with your mouth. . .talking, kissing. . .oh, she definitely liked kissing Robin. A euphoric feeling filled her up, from her toes to her stomach to the top of her head. She wrapped her legs around Robin, her hand running through her hair, and nibbled on Robin's lip. Vickie smirked when she let out a moan. Everything around them no longer existed. It was just Robin and Vickie wrapped up in each other. Robin. Robin. Robin. It was the only word floating around in her head. Suddenly, the door to the kitchen burst open.

"Oh! You got the girl!" Argyle said cheerfully. "Way to go, my dude!"

Argyle and Jonathan stood in the kitchen with Steve breathing heavily behind them. Vickie noticed that Argyle was holding Jonathan's hand.

"I see you got the boy," Vickie grinned.

"Hell yeah!" Argyle exclaimed and high fived her. "Well, we'll get out of your hair. Jonathan had a bad dream, so we came in here for a glass of water."

"Oh, don't feel like you have to leave. The kitchen is a common area," Vickie said.

"What are you guys doing up so early? I mean, besides making out in the kitchen," Jonathan said.

"I had a bad dream, and apparently Robin kicks Steve in her sleep," Vickie said.

She looked at Robin and smiled, loving how flushed the other woman looked. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Robin grinned.

"I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep," Robin said.

They all gathered around the island, and for a moment, there were no words needed. It was just the feeling of being around each other, knowing that you weren't alone after everything you've been through. Sometimes words were needed, and sometimes they weren't. Vickie enjoyed the feeling of having Robin in her arms. They didn't talk or ramble. . .they had the rest of their lives to do that. Vecna was dead, Hawkins was saved, and his victims freed from his grasp. Eddie's name would soon be cleared. Yeah, people were dead, Max was blind but life constantly showed you that things could always be worse. Vickie felt like they could get through this together. She could fight the nightmares, knowing that she had her newfound family by her side. Strange how quickly that happened.

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