#(i did try to stick to the sentence interpretation but i fell at the first one haha whooops)

[sothischickshe]

fave line game

RULES: share your favourite sentence/paragraph from each one of your fics and tag 6 other fic writers to do it too :)

TAGGED by: some very mean ppl! what the FUCK why would you do this?! this question is SO HARD!!?!?!?! @septiembrre @inyoursheets @mego42 @riosnecktattoo

TAGGING: this is such a mean q, i dont know that i can in good conscience foist it upon another human being so extremely v much no pressure but i taggeth @yellowhammerga @peachraindrops @adecila @ejunkiet @lewraea @kenrune which i think is 6 (?) n if youve done it already whoops n also that means u HAVE to go find it n tag me in it so i can see!!! ty!!!

...SERIOUSLY THOUGH WHAT THE FU!!CK, WHY WOULD U ASK THIS JESUS

just thinking abt working out what they’re all called is making me want to go have a nap

ok fuck it let’s go:

The Good Kind:

maybe ‘Or maybe he’s just curious to find out how far he can push her? Beth’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to know the answer to that last question, she’s scared to find out that the answer might be to anywhere.’

(i maintain that if you assume beth had semi public phone sex with rio somewhere btwn leaving his place & the kidnapping, the s2 finale makes more sense)

yourself and others:

mm, ‘When he didn’t flinch at Beth’s surprisingly competent velociraptor impression coming out of nowhere, even Ruby had to admit that she was impressed with Stan’s performance.’    

(this is tough for a number of reasons inc. this is the longest one + i love a lot of the dynamics in it, but ultimately: beth puts stan in liar bootcamp is a god tier trope & unrelatedly i definitely understand what a trope is yuh huh)

Even the best laid plans:

ha ‘She started chanting a long ass litany of ‘no’s, like she’d been listening to too much early Destiny’s Child and couldn’t get the song out her head.’

(4eva bless the set designer or whoever decided on the vinyl, without whom this fic wouldnt be)

Bringing down the neighbourhood:

!  “Only dangerous if you fuck it up.”

(the GALL)

Uncontrollable notes, from her snowy white throat:

mmmm: His mouth hung open when she added, “And you’re the… miscreant who doesn’t seem to care about his fines.”

(brio + roleplay is a god tier trope)

People can be so cold:

i think: ‘Rustles sound out as he pushes his skull around, carving out previous comforts.’

(i like the phrasing and the ambiguity)

What a sight to see:

probs: ‘Rio's never been so turned on, yet so terrified off the vaguest prospect of a blowjob, at the same fucking time.’

(he’s valid!!)

Through the park and by the tree:

oof idk, maaaaybe ‘She acts fast, pulling an Annie on the originator of that trick – bamboozling and barraging with a thousand and one questions, using her forward momentum to encourage her sister into the kitchen.’

(this fic is SO self-indulgent and i love it haha)

Climbing up the walls:

ha ‘The number of people he’s fucked then shot is zero, which has to be the kinda respectable, solid ratio a person was aiming for.’

(i have slowly come around to the idea that this story is also funny)

A time to refrain (from embracing):

i suppose: ‘It’s not real, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.‘

(i love it as an opening line for this type of story. it’s actually snipped from an original ficton thing which ive returned to a lot over the years, most of which isnt written down, and i ended up using it here but like...i feel like that doesn’t mean i can’t also use it there too!)

Maybe it’s something in the water:

perhaps:  She shuffles closer, towards one of his ears, to quietly grit out, “I do not want to pee on, or ugh, be peed on–”

(it’s like the crux of the thing, which is pretty silly, but it cheered me up when i was in need of cheering!)

a time to every purpose (under heaven):

ahhh: “I want to.”

(the joke is, rio mishears/mistakes ‘i want, too’ as i want to’, and it just makes me cackle in context)

It’s a dirty, dirty game but (you should’ve called before you came):

im gonna go: ‘Jane asks if Ruby’s her wife, making Beth realise that – shit, her kids haven’t seen Stan for a while.‘

(yes im picking this over ‘i’d know’... i just love it a lot)

waiting for someone who needs me:

hmph, perhaps: ‘The corners of his mouth become curlicues.‘

(writing antiquing beth pov was a lot of fun!)

(a) time to kill:

oh i know this one!!!! ‘He’s just coaxing the thing off her shoulders, when Mick says, “Howdy.”‘

(ok i didnt need to reread this one to work that out haha, but i had fun anyway!)

found my thrill:

im gonna pick:  ‘That duo are like a set of eyeballs, Jimmy decides, resting in the ridged sockets of the selfsame skull.’

(writing turner as fascinated but disgusted by beth + rio was a lot of fun!)

do you like drugs (tonight):

gah! mebbe ‘Of course the man who constantly dares people to shoot him taunts kitchen appliances to damage in similar fashion.’

(rio/bacon is the ship of ships)

Filing her nails while they’re dragging the lake:

praps: ‘He gets her broadly appeased, agreeing to an inn instead – because she clearly can’t imagine any version of herself that isn’t pedantic as all fuck.’

(i maintain brio + roleplay = god tier trope)

around here we say birds not bitches:

hmmmmmmm, perchance:  ‘How his focus clung like wrapping-saran, swept her under its spell; how good it felt to be the centre of his attention.’

(i wanted the pov to feel off & pay off the reveal/reward rereading, without tipping it too obvious, so there’s a lot of double speak/stuff that applies to both povs, as well as weaponised britishisms & stumbling over americanisms like panties, movie theatre and saran wrap...i was perhaps having too much fun haha)

upon your ignorance (and the gray despair) of your ugly life:

oh gosh! strong argument for it being:  “I’ll call Three Star, okay?”

(beth like demoting a star off dean’s workplace is extremely funny to me ha)

-

........okay, while i still feel like this is an impossibly difficult question, it was delightful having a reason to read them all in a row so ty <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #rereading yourself and others made me want to write a fic where beth and stan start a piano school haha #im not gonna #but someone should!!! #also i'd totally forgotten abt the beth n rio are evil capitalists thread to the genie au afhgfhtt #omg this was SO hard haha #i posted an entire story since starting to answer this and had to add it gaaah #but it was v fun in the end <3 #<3 #but now i think i need another nap ha #and im extremely excited to read something by someone who is not me my goshhhh #(i did try to stick to the sentence interpretation but i fell at the first one haha whooops) #(also i can't believe you guys think it's acceptable to give me homework haha #so rude #you couldnt pay me to be a student again haaa) #245727 words i read for you apparently! no wonder im tired hahaha #something

[imkylotrash]

I Can’t Fall In Love Without You

Pairing: Trevor Matthews x reader

Request: Trevor and the reader are already in a relationship, and the reader gets jealous when Trevor and Tessa meet. Anonymous

A/N I know the part about Tessa doesn’t last that long but I hope you like it anyway. 

“I’ll be home around 7 tonight.” You quickly put on earrings and the slightest bit of lip stick. He comes up from behind and sneaks his arms around you. Almost instantly you relax into his embrace letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

“That’s awfully late,” he comments placing a soft kiss on your neck. 

“It’s almost New Years and we need to get the annual report ready. Mike completely screwed up August and now we have to redo every month after August.” There’s been chaos at the office for the last two weeks due to the annual report meaning sleeping at the office rather than going home at 4 in the morning. 7pm was not late for you compared to lately but you still wished you could be home earlier. Today’s the 4 year anniversary for you and Trevor and you know he had some things planned but it’ll have to wait for January. Thankfully, he’s been more than understanding and it helps keep you sane. 

“I know, I know. I just wish you’d be home. But I’ll have some dinner ready.” 

“Thank you.” He spins you around and smiles. 

“You look so good I’m reconsidering letting you out of the house.” You chuckle as he places soft kisses on your neck and just below your ear. 

“Then I guess I have to stay,” you whisper grabbing his face to kiss him properly. After so long together you’re still not tired of how his lips feel against yours. But reality hits sooner rather than later and you hurry out the door to face the mess at work. At exactly 7 you park your car in the parking lot outside of your building. 10 long hours in the office and countless arguments later you’re finally free to enjoy the rest of your evening. 

“I’m home,” you call out confused as to why there are no light on at all. The apartment is completely quiet and as you move towards the kitchen turning on light as you go, it quickly becomes clear to you that no one is home. It’s so unlike Trevor to stay out at night but what worries you is that you have no idea where he is. Did something happen? You dial his number praying that he’s alright. 

“Hi, I’m on my way home now. I’m so sorry,” he says sounding rushed. Your heartbeat slowly returns to normal when you hear his voice. 

“It’s fine. You just had me worried. I thought something happened to you.” 

“No, I got caught up at work with the new intern. She didn’t know anybody and I felt bad for her.” You try not to give into the little green monster eating away at your stomach. Trevor has always been too kind for his own good, you know this. It’s part of the reason why you fell in love with him in the first place but why would he spend your anniversary with another girl?

“It’s fine. Should I get started on dinner then?” you ask trying to keep your voice from shaking. You tell yourself you’re overreacting and that this is just a response created by the stress from work. But you just can’t shake the feeling over the next couple of weeks. You swore never to be the type of girl to dictate who your boyfriend can and cannot see but you’ve hardly seen him because he spends all of his time with Tessa. The last straw is him going to an office party without you. Granted he asked you to come but you wanted a quiet night and said he should go himself. Of course, you didn’t actually mean it but Trevor is nothing if not honest so he’d only assume you’d say something if you had a problem. And you should’ve just said something instead of pretending to be fine but it’s difficult when you’re feeling insecure. So the next day as you’re sitting across from him at the table you speak up. 

“Why are you spending so much time with Tessa?” He chokes on his cereal. 

“What?” He puts his glasses on - a habit he has whenever he needs to pay attention. 

“You heard me.” You feel vulnerable and it pains you. The ability to open up is one you’ve never truly mastered and Trevor knows this so he also knows how difficult it is for you to ask him this yet he stays quiet.

“Are you having an affair?” 

“No!” 

“Then what?” you say raising your voice. What is the matter with you? You had a plan to ask him calmly and already you’re yelling at him. 

“She’s just a friend.” His eyes screams for you to drop this but you’ve heard that sentence too many times before and you know what it means. 

“That’s all you have to say? She’s a good friend? You’ve known her for, what, four months?” Everything about him is screaming guilty but you can’t believe that Trevor would ever do something like that to you. 

“What do you want me to say?” He’s cautious and with good reason.

“I want you to tell me that there’s nothing going on between the two of you. I want you to tell me that I’m the only one you love. I want you to fight for me to believe you!” Tears keep on coming even though you’re trying your hardest not to cry. “What I don’t want is you getting defensive about your relationship to some intern at the office.” 

“If I’m being defensive, maybe it’s because you’re accusing me of having an affair. I can’t believe you think I’d do that to you.” He’s hurt and you’re the cause making you feel even worse. How did breakfast turn into this? You take a deep breath to calm yourself down before this gets any worse. 

“Look, maybe I should go stay with my mom for a while? Just to take some time to think things through.” 

“I don’t need to think things through. You want to know what I’ve been doing with Tessa? We’ve been planning my proposal to you. She helped pick out a ring, coordinate with the restaurant. She helped me come up with ideas and talked me out of my stupid ideas. That’s what we’ve been doing.” Words fail you as his sink in. He was going to propose. And now you’ve royally screwed that up. Your silence is interpreted completely wrong and it breaks your heart. 

“I’m sorry the idea of my proposing made you feel so sick. I thought we were on the same page.” He grabs his coat and is out the door before you can say another word. You have to fix this but you have no idea how. Of course you would’ve said yes. How could he ever even doubt that? You grab your own coat and hurry out the door. You can fix this.

An hour later you’re back at the apartment but Trevor isn’t so you hurry getting ready. So many candles to lit and so little time. You change into that red dress that you know he loves hoping that this will be enough. Enough to convince him that of course you’d have said yes if he asked you. Two hours later he finally returns drenched from the rain. 

“What’s all this?” he asks stopping dead in his tracks. 

“Trevor Matthews, you’ve been my source of light for the past four years and I’d very much like for you to be my light for many more years. Imagening my life without you seems impossible and I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. I want you now and forever.” You’re trying to speak clearly but your entire body is shaking. 

“Y/N-”

“Please let me finish before I start sobbing. It’s going to be ugly.” He laughs but stays quiet. 

“I want to wake up next to you and go to sleep with you. I want pancake Sundays and movie dates on Friday. I want the sleepless nights and the mornings in bed. I want all of it and I want it for the rest of my life.” You inhale trying to control the tears that refuse to let up. 

“I don’t have a ring,” you say realising that you’re missing the most vital thing of a proposal. 

“I can do that part,” Trevor says grabbing a small velvet box from his coat. He gets down on one knee and somehow this moment is so imperfectly perfect that you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Would you marry me and make me the happiest man? Be mine.” 

“Of course I would.” He slips the ring onto your finger and it’s the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” you whisper not even knowing how much it would mean to you to have the perfect ring. He stands up and immediately kisses you. 

“I hope you know I’m never letting you go,” Trevor says between kisses. 

“Good.”

#after movie #after blurb #after imagine #after #trevor matthews imagine #trevor matthews blurb #trevor matthews x reader #trevor matthews #after we collided blurb #after we collided #after we collided imagine #awc blurb #awc imagine #awc #hardin #tessa young

[goldenkamuyhunting]

[EP31 Spoiler] When Tsukishima said that people in the 7th called Ogata "mountain cat" as a cruel joke, I'm surprised to see Sugimoto genuinely feeling bad for Ogata. Like bruh he straight up shot you in head, remember? I understand why Tsukishima appeared uncomfortable recounting this because he was judged by his father's sins too, but Sugimoto's reaction was a surprise to me. Your thought?

Honestly...

I don’t really think it’s surprising.

I’m not sure if you’re just an anime viewer or are you also following the manga (if you aren’t I recommend reading it as it’s much, much better than the anime) but I warn you my answer will include also parts that will refer to scenes in the manga that weren’t included in the anime (because the anime decided not to animate them) or that in the anime continuity have yet to happen as the manga is the original source of material and behaviours.

Anyway, let’s start with the part that’s common in both media, in short the scene in question.

Here it’s how it is in the anime.

And here there’s the manga version.

The dialogue and the core of the scene is more or less the same so I won’t dig too much into the small differences and just discuss the scene.

A bit of technicalities, first.

Words used:

Yamaneko (山猫)= “Wildcat”, litterally “mountain cat”.

Ōyamaneko (オオヤマネコ)= “Lynx”, litterally “big mountain cat”.

Meko Oyasi (メコオヤシ)= “Cat monster” (oyasi are, losely, malicious Ainu mythological creatures, Tsukishima will later see the meko oyasi as equivalent to the Japanese ‘Bakeneko’ (化け猫) = “monster cat”)

Now... the slang for geisha ‘wildcat’ has a complicate story but, back then, was used for ‘geisha’ who actually slept with customers. Now, a geisha isn’t supposed to sleep with a customer or engage with him in any sort of sexual act. That’s why ‘geisha’ who slept with customers were viewed as a fraud, people who deceive others, because they passed themselves for geisha when they actually were prostitutes.

So the sentence Koito said actually means ‘the son of a swindler is a swindler’.

The ‘joke’, if we want to call it as such, is objectively pathetic and dumb, a way to attack a person not over something he can control, like his character or his actions, but over something he can’t control, like who gave birth to him, made worse (although Sugimoto can’t know this part) by how Ogata’s mother didn’t slep with Hanazawa for money but because she fell for him and if there was a swindler in the story that one is Hanazawa who took advantage of her feelings and then dumper her.

But, back to Ogata, he has no control over his mother’s work or what she chose to do prior to his birth, nor he had the chance to chose her over another woman as his mother. He is also not his mother, and being a swindler isn’t a genetically trasmissible trait.

So what the 7th division called a joke is actually a personal attack done in really poor taste based on a wrong assumption (that Ogata’s mother was a prostitute) and a fallacity (frauding behaviour isn’t heriditary) that aimed to hit Ogata not for a fault of his but for something he had no control over in a time in which he hadn’t betrayed the 7th yet (as the joke started prior to Ogata’s betrayal).

Attacking Ogata defining him a fraud, a swinder, was a big blow in a time where honour was held so valuable, so it’s not really minor.

Back to Sugimoto though, Sugimoto is an adult.

He can see it’s a low blow, something petty and childish, something completely different from calling Ogata ‘murderer’ or ‘jerk’ or even a ‘swindler’ but for things HE and not his mom, did, and it’s a joke the 7th division passed on way before Ogata shoot him and way before Ogata betrayed them.

Therefore, even if he wants Ogata dead, in such circumstance he decides not to side with people who take fun slandering others for reasons that aren’t connected to their crimes... or try to. But we’ll get to this part later.

(and of course there’s to keep in consideration Sugimoto is not overly fond of Koito either, so he’s likely not going to humour him).

There’s more though, as Sugimoto isn’t coming to this realization only due to his ‘deductive ability’ but more due to personal experience.

If you’re only an anime viewer you might not know it, but Sugimoto also suffered being attacked for something he had no part in. This part was completely censored in the anime, like all the scenes that end up involving Umeko, but Sugimoto’s whole family fell sick with tuberculosis. While Sugimoto was forced to watch his relative die one after the other the village he lived him shunned him and his family, with people considering to burn down their house with them in... and, although we don’t hear it, it’s possible they also insulted them.

The result is that Sugimoto takes very poorly when people badtalk about other people for reasons unrelated to them.

In case you missed it, the one Shiraishi does is another cruel joke.

‘Sono Ainu wa omae-san no kai inu ka?’

そのアイヌはお前さんの飼いイヌか？

Lit: “That Ainu is your pet dog?”

When he says “pet dog” this translates as ‘kai inu’’ (飼いイヌ) a word that sound similar to ‘Ainu’ and that therefore was used to insult Ainu.

Anyway Sugimoto can’t help but loathe that joke because he had been on the receiving help of something similar and can’t help but be reminded of it when Tsukishima explains him the whole thing.

He very likely wouldn’t have felt bad for Ogata at all if they had attacked him for something that Ogata did, but hearing them attack Ogata for something he had no control over had instead to ring a bell in him, reminding him of his own drama, hence the rejection of their actions, especially when Koito, whom Sugimoto sees as a spoiled brat, seems instead in favour of them.

Said all this, despite knowing what the men of the 7th was wrong, neither Tsukishima nor Sugimoto truly managed to avoid following their example, although in a more veiled way. I would say hypocritical much but the truth is that when you are angry at someone or even hate that person (for rightful or wrong reasons) in many cases YOU feel legittimate to be a jerk and do things you reproach in others.

Tsukishima, angry about how Ogata killed Maeyama, referenced to it calling him a ‘pet cat’ on his face...

...and later on referred to him as an ‘Ōyamaneko’.

Sugimoto too is not above making references to Ogata being a wildcat by saying Ogata claw things for the fun of it...

...and by using ‘nekoyoke’ (猫よけ), which yes, means “cat repellent”.

So as you can see neither Tsukishima nor Sugimoto are so morally above others they don’t slip into petting insulting despite knowing it’s wrong but, at least, both of them tried to be mature about it.

So that’s how I see it.

Sugimoto, despite hating Ogata, could see the joke was wrong because it rang a bell inside him, one he couldn’t ignore as it’s deeply tied to his personal tragedy so he refused to partake in the act.

However, as things between him and Ogata worsened, despite his attempts he slipped in the act, albeith not in an openly manner... because humans are often just like that, when they’re angry at someone it seems fair even attack them with slander instead than sticking to the right motivations. Which is sad... but human.

At least that’s how I see it. Of course I can be wrong in my interpretation.

Anyway, thank you for your ask!

#Golden Kamuy #Ogata Hyakunosuke #Sugimoto Saichi #Koito Otonoshin #Tsukishima Hajime #Ask

[muwur]

could i request an -oikawa-kuroo-suga- headcanons for a partner with autism/adhd? (autism and adhd in girls can be like, real hard to write if you dont have it or know someone who does so its 100% okay to say no wididnejfufhejrr) especially with like, being embarrassed about stimming in front of them or dealing with rejection sensitive dysphoria as a symptom 😗👉👈 thank yooooooooooou i owe u my liyef

haikyuu + s/o with autism/adhd headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for oikawa, kuroo, suga & tendou

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.3k words

a/n: i got u b! this is wut im here for, to help u feel a lil represented 😌 also ik u a special fren of mine so hehe here u go (happy birthday soon btw c; ily i hope you enjoy pls feel free to lmk if there’s smth youd like me to change ♡)! aLsO pLEASePLEAseplEASe anyone let me know if there is something I wrote in this that doesn’t sit well with you. as someone who does not have autism/adhd or has had much experience around people who do, i cannot portray it accurately. i do not intend to misrepresent anyone’s experiences. i love and care for you all; the last thing i want to do is hurt or offend anyone. thankfully anon + the internet were great sources for me to try to understand things better. tho that is not to say i can fully comprehend these conditions (cuz i never can unless i experience it myself)

n e ways, u r all loveli n i hope ur having an amazing day <3

just wanna preface that these bois would love anyone for who they are, and would do their best to support you in whatever ways possible <3

oikawa

✧ oikawa had been replying consistently to your messages before suddenly disappearing with no explanation,,,

✧ at first it seemed like nothing, but after several hours and follow up texts from yourself, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he just didn’t want to reply to you

✧ maybe he didn’t even like you anymore

✧ fear that every moment you shared together meant nothing settled in the pit of your stomach

✧ a while later you received a phone call from a very apologetic oikawa, who was explaining that he dropped his phone in the bowl of ramen he was eating and had to go to the store and wait for hours before finally getting a new one and--

✧ “a-are you crying? hey, what’s wrong? i’m sorry i was gone for so long. i’m here now.”

✧ will definitely come over immediately to give you reassuring cuddles

✧ “you mean the world to me. i never want to hurt you, and i never want to leave you, either.”

✧ makes sure to communicate very clearly with you to reassure you what he really means

✧ always reminding you how much he cares about you to reinforce in your head that he’s always going to be there for you

✧ does self-care days with you to destress because life is tough (*cue selfies with face masks and laying in bed for hours with each other’s comforting presence*)

✧ very quick to defend and protect you from people who hurt you. will ask, “excuse me, can i help you?” with a piercing glare that’ll get anyone to back down

✧ gives you constant reassurance about your stimming

✧ helps you interpret social cues and situations, gives you tips on how to handle your interactions with others and in under circumstances (as well as how to remain calm in your own mind)

✧ practices positive self-talk with you because he wants to help you see how great you are

✧ anyone who doesn’t see it is at a loss and is irrelevant, they don’t exist in oikawa’s book 💅

kuroo

✧ always educating himself so he knows how to be helpful

✧ unintentionally embarrassed you once by asking what you were doing when he caught you stimming once (which was when he found out about it)

✧ he was genuinely curious and meant no harm, and he apologized for bringing it up how he did

✧ however, he was glad he asked you so that he could be informed and reassure you that stimming is okay. he understands the importance of it and he’d prefer you have something to help you self-soothe. no judgment here, this is a safe space

✧ takes mental notes on all your favorite stims (verbal, visual, tactile, oral, proprioception, etc)

✧ even discovers new stims for you to try and buys you things to help with them (“here, this is a fidget spinner, y/n” or “you know they make CHEWABLE JEWLERY? they call it CHEWELRY. that’s genius. *typing on phone* what colors do you like, babe?” )

✧ encourages you to talk about your feelings and find additional coping strategies (“let’s try this neat breathing technique i learned about today!”)

✧ saves you from overwhelming situations (ie. pulling you out of a crowd, shutting down really noisy things, giving you space to clear your head and breathe)

✧ ruffles your hair as a sign of affection and calls you cute nicknames

✧ helps you study, make plans, and stay organized. tries to keep things interesting and interactive so you don’t lose interest/find it boring

✧ when you’re having an especially hard time focusing, he’ll pull you aside for a relaxing break like talking a small walk, watching an episode of y’alls favorite show, sharing a snack, playing a game, looking at memes or tik tok, chatting, etc

✧ makes sure to validate your feelings first and acknowledge your concerns before giving you his thoughts

✧ helps you view situations from a different perspective so you don’t assume rejection from others. when there is some form of rejection, he’s there to help you cope with the emotions 

✧ gives you a lot of hugs when you’re feeling dejected and lonely, reminding you he’ll never leave your side 

sugawara

✧ he’s quite perceptive, so when he noticed your unease, he asked you about it

✧ embarrassed but not wanting to lie, especially to suga, you admitted to being afraid of stimming around him and that you had been trying to hold back from it (even if it was hard)

✧ his eyes immediately soften as he tells you that there’s no reason to be embarrassed about it

✧ he just wants you to be yourself and feel comfortable

✧ learns about all of your stims. totally supports and normalizes them (however, if they’re ever self-injurous, he’ll do research and consult expert help to redirect the behavior)

✧ will absolutely take good care of you, he’s not sugamama for no reason

✧ a great listener! always hearing you out when you talk about your passions and interests

✧ wants you to express yourself however you can because he understands communication may not always be easy (reminder that communication and expression aren’t always verbal!)

✧ praises you and hypes you up all the time, going on about how there’s so much about you he loves

✧ has the most soothing voice ever. will whisper you sweet, reassuring words to calm and ease your mind

✧ will even just hum for you. lit rally anything. the suga juke box varies from lullabies to funky fresh songs

✧ very patient and will support you when you feel upset, frustrated, and/or have outbursts

✧ encourages you to talk about your feelings, but never pressures you. shares his own thoughts and feelings to help you open up, asks you thoughtful questions

✧ may be ultimate soft boi but gives anyone the look™ if they even just stare, and goes feral if someone’s ever rude to you in any way, calls them tf out and is #satisfied when he gets them to apologize

✧ also helps you study and be organized! good at creating schedules and encouraging you to stick with them

✧ constantly making sure you eat sufficient meals 😋 and get enough rest 😴 will nag you until you do

tendou

✧ MORE THAN HAPPY TO PROVIDE ALL THE STIMULATION YOU NEED, says it’s an opportunity to give each other mutual attention and bond

✧ but will also provide you an outlet for just relaxing and unwinding

✧ will talk to you for hours and hours about your favorite shows/movies/books

✧ BINGES THEM WITH YOU

✧ always treating you to your favorite snacks/flavors and discovering new things for you to try that will match your taste/texture preferences (only the best for u 😌)

✧ curious about how stims make you feel and asks you to describe those sensations to him  

✧ thinks it’s super cool when you can finish his sentences for him,,, cuz it’s like y’all on the same wavelength (you gellll)

✧ if anyone made you feel bad,,, o boy

✧ tendou would intimidate them to the point he would probably appear in their nightmares ffegjegk this is why you don’t fuck with this man or those who cares about 

✧ king of spontaneity and asks if you’re down to do the most random things

✧ “let’s buy a trampoline”

✧ *2 am* “you down for some fries and dip? and by dip i mean m i l k s h a k e s”

✧ of course he’ll never suggest things he knows you would be uncomfortable with. never puts you in a stressful situation and always makes sure you’re enjoying yourself

✧ invites you everywhere and makes sure you feel included. always by your side!

✧ squeezes your hand whenever he can tell you’re feeling anxious

✧ if you feel anxious about trying new things, he’s there to encourage you! recounts all the positive aspects 

✧ but if you’re really excited to try something, you bet he’ll match your excitement

✧ a very good listener. empathizes a lot with being misunderstood or seen as “different,” and is therefore a major source of comfort

✧ constantly showing you how to be yourself and that you shouldn’t feel ashamed about it, cuz that’s who he fell in love with

#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #sugawara x reader #tendou x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #requests

[sirrriusblack]

My Secret Agenda

This fic is solely for the purpose of making @e-of-west-glendia smile but uh yes. I provide wolfstar fluff :)

* * *

Sirius thought it a crime that he’d never stepped foot into Remus’ bedroom before.

When Remus had mentioned Sirius staying in one of their letters at the start of the winter break, they’d asked their parents immediately. Hope and Lyall—both of whom had insisted Sirius call them by their first names—had been more than happy to have Sirius stay for the last few days of the winter holidays, after Christmas. Sirius’ mum—Euphemia, not Walburga—had agreed on the conditions that he took with him a box of chocolates for Remus’ parents, along with the promise to keep his hands off Remus unless necessary. Sirius had agreed, but decided to leave the concept of ‘necessary’ up to interpretation. He’d had the full house tour—excluding the basement that Remus transformed in whenever he was home during the full moon, but Sirius definitely didn’t deem that as necessary—guided along by the whole family. Until they’d reached Remus’ room. Then, Hope and Lyall had left the boys to it, Hope murmuring softly that they had to keep the door open. Remus had gone bright red. 

Now, Sirius stood at the entryway to Remus’ bedroom. It was… everything he’d ever wanted as a kid. Well, maybe not his style, but, it was free and cluttered. Sirius’ childhood room consisted of dark floorboards, white walls, grey bedsheets and curtains and a rather unnerving portrait of a great uncle Sirius had never met. Well it had, until Sirius decided to litter it with muggle posters, pictures of his friends and every record he could get his hands on. His room at the Potter’s was great, too. He now had the freedom to have the biggest David Bowie poster he’d ever seen hanging right above his bed. He now had the freedom to do anything he wanted, within reason. But still, Remus’ bedroom was… something else. It felt lived in. Loved. Like Remus had spent his life here and there were traces of it everywhere. Remus was everywhere. He sat on the bed—which would be a tight fit for both of them, but Sirius wasn’t complaining—and gestured for Sirius to follow suit. He did, looking around the room and smiling at certain items and photos that caught his attention along the way. Sirius fell onto the bed, worn in and surprisingly comfortable, especially when Remus curled into him like that.

“Do you like it?” Remus asked, running his hands along Sirius’ back and shoulders.

“The room?” he asked. Remus nodded. “Mmhm, yeah, I love it,” he said, cuddling closer to Remus. Sirius shot up quickly, realising something.

“Oh, um, Sirius?” Remus moved forward, unsure of what Sirius was doing, until he turned around and kissed him. They hadn’t seen each other for three weeks and that meant they hadn’t kissed for three weeks. Sirius said as much to Remus, who laughed against Sirius’ mouth, the sound only making Sirius deepen the kiss. Yes, this was very, very necessary. Nothing had ever been more necessary than when Remus pulled away for a moment, only to sit back against his headboard and tug Sirius toward him, up and onto his lap. So, very necessary. Sirius was content to stay like that forever, wrapped in Remus’ arms and their shared breaths. But those were footsteps out in the hall. In a matter of moments, Remus and Sirius were on opposite ends of the bed, looking all but casual. Hope knocked lightly on the slightly open door and poked her head in. She took in the scene—both boys flushed pink and too far apart to be anything but suspicious—and smirked a little.

“Hey, mam, need something?” Remus asked, running a hand through his tangled curls. Sirius felt his heart glow at the sight. Hope’s smirk turned into a kind smile, one that Sirius still wasn’t entirely used to seeing on many adults. 

“Lyall and I are going to the market for groceries, is there anything you two would like?” the Welsh lilt in Hope’s voice was just as pleasant as the first time Sirius had heard it. For a moment, Sirius let himself imagine a forever like this. Days spent walking through the fields of grass and flowers that surrounded the house, lying in Remus’ bed learning all about each relic of his childhood, chatting over the dinner table to Hope and Lyall with their kind smiles and wonderful accents. A forever with Remus. Sirius almost sighed at the image, but kept it in for fear of embarrassment. Remus was looking at him. He realised Remus was waiting for an answer and shook his head.

“I’m okay, thank you,” he said, smiling back at Hope. Her eyes glinted as she looked back to Remus. 

“There’s not much point in telling you to keep the door open while we’re not home, is there?” she asked, her smile growing wider. Remus’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Mam!” he shouted, throwing a pillow at the door. Hope had already rushed off though, her laugh floating in the air. Remus’ accent had worn off over time, so that it was mostly gone now; a result of spending most of the year at Hogwarts and around the other Marauders. Some things he said, however, had a hint of the same Welsh accent his mother and father had. Other times, he’d say entire words in Welsh—like how he called his parents mam and tad when he was talking to them—and, at least in Sirius’ opinion, it was the fucking cutest shit ever.

“We’ll be back soon!” Lyall called from the front door before it clicked shut and the two boys were left alone. 

Sirius fell against Remus so he was lying between his legs and Remus started running his fingers through Sirius’ hair. Something on the wall caught Sirius’ eye. It was a photograph of a young Remus standing somewhere with his dad and holding a huge stick of cotton candy in his small hand. A muggle photo; neither of them were moving. Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You okay?” Remus asked, trying to see what Sirius was looking at. Sirius turned to face Remus and stuck his bottom lip out. 

“How old are you in that photo?” he asked. Remus looked adorable. His hair was just as curly as it was now, but it was longer in that photo. Down-to-his-chin-long. Sirius was going to die, he was sure of it. Remus laughed and stood up, carefully pushing Sirius off his lap. He walked over to the wall—a wall filled from ceiling to floor with photos, paper, drawings, writing, everything—and pulled the photo down, before walking back over to his bed. Sirius sat up, cross-legged. Remus laid back down, though, and pulled Sirius down next to him until every part of them was tangled.

“I was five. For the first year or so, once I was feeling better, after every full moon dad took me somewhere fun. I think he felt guilty about…” he trailed off, his eyes focused wholly on the photo. Sirius looked too. Remus did look a bit rough around the edges in the photo, but he was smiling. He was happy despite it all. “Uh, but yeah. We went to a carnival near our old house and that was the first time I tried cotton candy,” he finished with a small smile on his face. Sirius turned and kissed him slowly, knowing it wouldn’t erase the past but hoping it might help Remus. It seemed to, because he stood up and walked back over to the wall and grabbed a different photo this time. Before he could start talking about it, though, Sirius stood up and walked over to his bag. Remus raised his eyebrows, confused, before Sirius pulled out the record player he’d gotten from the Potters for Christmas last year. Remus shook his head, grinning, as Sirius placed it on the large wooden desk in the corner of Remus’ room. 

“What’s it going to be this time? Bowie?” Remus guessed, leaning back against the wall and smiling. Sirius lifted a record out of his bag, trying to hide it behind his back. 

“Surprise,” he explained, turning back to the record player. Remus only nodded and waited for Sirius to set the music up, dropping the arm down and letting it start. Once he was sure it was working, Sirius moved back toward the bed, this time sitting on the floor and leaning back against the frame. Remus flicked some hair from his face and smiled down at Sirius. He walked over and they resumed their position, but this time Remus was in front and they were on the floor, facing the wall.

The music started playing, the lilting sound of Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond. Remus turned to Sirius, eyes wide.

“The Potter’s got you Pink Floyd’s new album?” he asked, running over to the record player. Sirius laughed and nodded. He’d never been as into Pink Floyd as Remus was, so when he’d opened the record on Christmas morning, all he could think about was how excited Remus was going to be. And he was right. Remus was reading through the album cover, like he was trying to memorise each song. Sirius wished he could have gotten it for Remus for Christmas, but he felt terrible asking the Potter’s for money. And Sirius’ own fortune...well that was long gone now. Probably in Bella’s bank if anything. Mr Potter insisted on giving Sirius an allowance for the chores he did around the house during the holidays, but Sirius had never touched any of that money. He was going to give it all back to them when he moved out instead. It was the least he could do. And sharing his gifts with Remus was the most he could do for his boyfriend at the moment. 

“I’m bringing it to school, so as your Christmas gift, you can access it any time of any day,” Sirius offered, smiling. Remus placed the record back on his desk and looked down at his shoes. “Remus? Are you alright?” He shuffled over, sitting back between Sirius’ legs.

“I didn’t—I mean, I don’t have anything for you,” Remus said, pointedly avoiding his eyes. Sirius lifted his hand to Remus’ face and gently tilted his head up to face him.

“Remus… I’m kidding, I was just…” he didn’t finish the sentence, knowing that whatever he was going to say next wouldn’t improve Remus’ mood. He remembered something quickly and once again walked over to his bag. Remus raised an eyebrow. “Okay so technically I have got something for you but it’s cheesy,” Sirius started. Remus looked nervous, like he still felt bad for not getting Sirius a gift. “If it makes you feel better, I already had this and I just thought you might like it.” Remus looked up, the photo he’d taken down from the wall earlier still in his hands. Sirius walked over to him and handed Remus a small envelope.

“What is… Sirius, if this is money—”

“No, no, just open it,” Sirius cut in, waving toward the envelope. Remus placed the photo down by his side and tore open the envelope, careful not to damage the contents. It was a photo. Sirius and Remus were in third year, laughing over a game of exploding snap. Sirius couldn’t even remember the day it was taken, couldn’t remember who’d won the game, even. But it was his favourite photo of him and Remus. It was light, and pure and Sirius could watch how Remus’ eyes shifted from the game to Sirius and then how his face exploded into a grin that was just everything, all at once. Sirius had kept it on his bedside table at Grimmauld Place, one of the few actually non-muggle items he’d kept in his room. He’d fallen asleep to it, cried to it, smiled to it. And he thought Remus might like it.

Remus was staring at the photo like Sirius had just given him a bar of gold. Sirius’ 13-year-old face split into a grin in the photo and Remus’ eyes lit up. He looked up at Sirius, as if making sure he was still there, and grinned with just the same amusement and happiness as both the boys had that day. 

“Who took this?” Remus asked, already standing to place it on his wall. It was ironic, Sirius thought, that he’d brought a photo for Remus, who had an entire wall of them in his bedroom. Remus taped the polaroid to his wall in place of the one he’d taken down and sat back next to Sirius. 

“I think it was James,” Sirius said, wrapping his arm around Remus. 

“I love it,” Remus whispered. Sirius couldn’t help himself, couldn’t resist from leaning forward and kissing Remus, long and slow. He reached down and picked up the photo, holding it up for Remus to see.

“What’s this?” Sirius asked, parting lips and looking down. Remus blushed, looking down before he mumbled something incomprehensible. “What was that?” Sirius pushed, amused. Remus’ cheeks turned redder and he finally looked a the photo. Sirius was sitting by one of the large arched windows in the Gryffindor Common room, the sunlight filtering in while he was practising charms. Sirius’ arm was moving in circles as he got more and more frustrated with the spell he was trying to cast. Remus laughed at the picture, at Sirius’ pout, and in turn earned a light shove from his boyfriend. 

“I took this early fifth year, y’know, when I was still hopelessly in love with you,” Remus explained. Sirius faced him, shocked. 

“And you’re not now?” he asked, feigning outrage. Remus laughed, the sound floating in the air. 

“Nope,” he said, and before Sirius could interject, he added, “I’m full of hope. Full to the brim. You give me hope, Sirius, I’m…..hopefully in love with you,” Remus finished, linking their hands together. Sirius chuckled, unsure of how he could possibly get so lucky.

“You’re a dork, Moony,” he said, leaning to kiss him again. Remus hummed against Sirius’ lips and Sirius couldn’t help but grin. Every single moment of these few days was absolutely, one hundred per cent, definitely necessary.

The song died down and Sirius shifted closer to Remus, settling his head into the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. Wish You Were Here started playing and, much to Sirius’ delight, Remus started humming along, swaying ever so slightly. Sirius pointed up at the wall, at a muggle photo of Remus and his mother in rollerskates.

“Tell me about that photo,” Sirius requested, and Remus smiled. 

“That was the day I broke my arm for the first time,” he started, thinking back to try and remember all the details of the day. Sirius turned to him, jaw wide open.

“The first time?!” he asked, grabbing Remus’ arm like it might break suddenly right there. Remus laughed, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Yeah, first of a few too many,” Remus said, grinning. Sirius decided he could live off of that grin and that grin only. He was content, here in Remus’ room, on the floor, listening to their favourite music and Remus’ childhood stories.

#I hope you like itttttttttttt #um also it is late-ish so there might be mistakes #but I tried #so yeah #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #just pure fluff #also everyone should listen to wish you were here #good song #yupppp #my writing #:)

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Yayy! Despite trying to fight off a monster of a cold, I’ve got a new chapter written! :D

As I mentioned yesterday, this one is written from Logan’s POV because I’ve been wanting to create a back story for him in this story :) 

I’ll post the chapter under a line on here, but please check it out on Ao3 too! I love reading comments and stuff to find out what people think :)

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships  @edupunkn00b  @jwillowwolf @kacklingisanart @look-ma-im-on-tv @stardustlv @lost-in-thought-20

Chapter 5. My Heart Was Made Of Stone. And You Broke It Twice.

“But the wind has changed. My walls are weakening. They’re gonna fall soon. And I’m gonna need you.”

Logan was a man who always kept his emotions in check. He never let himself get too consumed by any kind of feeling. Happiness, sadness, love, hate, anger… Ever since he was sixteen, he refused to be vulnerable ever again. If you’re vulnerable, you can be broken. He had been broken far too many times when he was growing up.

His parents were agreeable, he couldn’t deny that… but he was never enough for them. Even as a young child, nothing was quite good enough. He remembered when the class teacher told his parents that he was the first child to learn how to write his name… he stretched up to show them and they let the paper flutter to the floor saying it wasn’t neat enough. He was only four! It got worse as he got older. Every time he was proud of something he had achieved, like getting a high grade, he was always asked why it wasn’t full marks. The unattainable goals were never reached and it took a lot to even vaguely satisfy them. He worked himself into the ground for the entirety of his school life, it affected his health, but they still weren’t happy. He was never strong enough, creative enough, serious enough, smart enough… and it hurt so much to know that. His friends however were amazing, they would always encourage him and make him take breaks when they knew he was working way too hard. They could always cheer him up and he was eternally grateful for that. Logan clenched his fists… he hated how much it knocked him down when he would walk in smiling over something that happened at school, to be told they weren’t interested and to just go and study. He always set himself up for the fall almost every day… no wonder emotions became such a hinderance. Luckily, music was his salvation for about eight years.

Logan took his head out of his hands, readjusted his eyes to the light and felt how raw they were from crying before staring at the dusty piano in the house intently. He used to be pretty good at playing. He loved his classical music, and still does. Just not playing it anymore. When he still had lessons, he was always thrilled with the challenge of increasingly difficult pieces given to him by his teacher. It was funny, his music teacher was the only person who ever truly believed in him. He was also the one person who could convince Logan to perform. The last concert he ever played in was the day before his sixteenth birthday, he played his most difficult piece to date… Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu Op 66. They decided on that because it was originally a piece that no one was ever supposed to hear, Chopin never wanted it to be released after he died… but they did it anyway. His teacher said that he could then perform it however he wanted to, artistic interpretation and all that. He practiced and practiced at school so his parents wouldn’t hear it before. When it got to the concert, and his parents actually turned up, he was genuinely surprised. He walked out on the stage and sat down looking for his teacher who gave him a smile and a thumbs up, then the music began. He felt almost like he was watching himself play, he had never played with such determination before and as the final note rung out… there was silence. Before the room broke out into applause, his teacher was standing up clapping vigorously, then some of his classmates and other parents stood up too. His parents however were sat down, clapping politely with a neutral expression on their faces and Logan’s smile faltered. He gave a quick bow and walked quickly off the stage. His teacher followed him and gave him a hug while telling him how proud he was. Logan couldn’t stop the tears, he had never cried in front of another person, but no one had ever been proud of him before either. How embarrassing. The first time he had been shown positive interest by someone he respected, and he cried until the top of their shirt was damp with his tears. His teacher just held him and told him everything was okay. After he had calmed down and the tears had stopped, he went to go and join his parents for the second half of the concert, but their seats were empty.

In that moment, he didn’t get upset again and stayed unusually calm, and he knew that this was the final straw. He stayed at a hotel for the night at the insistence of his teacher, that way he could sort out his head and start looking up different apartment options. Which he did realise could be tricky as a sixteen-year-old… but he was smart, reliable, didn’t drink or smoke and had a substantial amount of money at his disposal. He waited until the morning and snuck back into his parent’s house to collect all of the things that he deemed necessary. Thankfully, the hotel manager was understanding and let him stay for the bare minimum price until he could find an apartment for himself. It took a few months, and the landlord had to be persuaded by his music teacher, but he found an apartment which was close to everything he needed and was affordable. One day, he would repay that teacher back for everything he had done for him.

He looked at the calendar, the picture of him and Virgil smiling and holding up their wedding ring hands was taunting him on the wall. He noticed the date. Wow, it had been ten years since he left without looking back, and he never heard a single word from them.

That was clearly for the best.

Ever since then, he never let emotions get the better of him ever again. However, as he looked around at the decimated living room, he had clearly broken and let all of those emotions consume him once again. Logan inspected the damage, as he traced the hole in the wall, the shattered photo frames and glass covering the floor, it caused his heart to fill up with regret. His heart was already full of pain, the regret was enough to make his heart quite literally tear in two. Virgil was the first person he felt like he could be vulnerable with again. When they first met, there was something about him, something that reminded him of himself. Maybe this guy was just as broken as he was, as he saw him hiding in the corner of the coffee shop trying to stay away from the world. He told Virgil this many times, but he had encased his heart in stone to keep it safe. As their relationship developed, as stupid as it sounds, he could feel the stone wall cracking and breaking off piece by piece, and he honestly didn’t mind in the slightest.

Now, he didn’t know what was going on with his heart. He was hurt, he was angry. It’s not every day you find out that the man you’ve been married to for the last five years spent most of his life as a well-trained and dangerous assassin. Going by Virgil’s words alone, the body count to his name is staggering and who knows how many people he’s hurt over the years. The argument they had earlier in the evening was playing on repeat in his mind.

“I couldn’t tell you!” Virgil shouted across the room.

“Why the hell not?! I’m your fucking HUSBAND Virgil, you are supposed to trust me. No matter what’s happened in your past!” Logan rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Okay, you want to know why I hid everything from you? I did it to PROTECT you! My past is something that can be used against me, it is still being used against me. If anyone from it came after you… I would never be able to forgive myself!” The tears wouldn’t stop rolling down Virgil’s face as he spluttered out the words while his body shook with sobs.

Despite the hurt of seeing Virgil in so much pain, Logan couldn’t contain his anger. “What makes you decide if I need protecting? I can handle myself, ever since I was sixteen I’ve been on my own… You know that!”

Virgil sighed, like he was debating whether or not to say his next sentence.

“Remember when we met all those years ago? You told me about how you were attacked and how scared you were after it? Well… it was me. I was the guy who saved you. Every day since that moment, I vowed that I would protect you no matter the cost. Then I fell in love with you along the way, and I’ll love you until the end of time. If you want to know the truth about me, I know he gave you something. Look at it, and I won’t blame you if you try to turn me in to the police afterwards. I have to go now though, otherwise you will get hurt… I’m sorry, Lo.” Logan was left dumbfounded, and Virgil ran out of the front door, slipping away into the night.

There had been so many lies and too many secrets. He remembered that USB stick he threw in a drawer months ago. He opened it up and stared at the blue object, the label that read ‘Virgil… ?’ taunted him mercilessly. He looked over at his open laptop that was spared from his destructive anger, should he look at it?

Logan shook that thought away instantly, he needed to clear up first before making any kind of decision. He crouched down on the floor and started to sweep the glass over towards the sofa with his hand, just so he could clean it properly soon. He got to the first photograph, him and Virgil sitting in a restaurant holding hands and smiling at the camera. That picture was taken by Thomas and Nico, their two closest friends… He thought he should text them and see if they could come over. Virgil left half an hour ago, and he already felt too alone.

He’d contact them later, but for now. He wanted to stare at photographs and revel in his memories.

#fanfiction #ao3 #My story #ts fanfic #ts fandom #au #ts logan #ts virgil #assassin au #new chapter

[writing-royza]

Royai Week Prompt One: Letter

What’s up, my loves, I’ve only been out of the game for… six months, but it was far too long! And what a way to dive back in. Happy Royai Week to all!

-----

Every Five Words

For a moment, the sight of the innocuous white envelope caused her breath to freeze in her lungs. There was no postmark, meaning it had been hand-delivered to her mailbox, and in this time of Pride and Bradley practically breathing down her neck… a hand delivery became suspicious.

When she saw the name on the return address, however, her lungs thawed and air returned. Smiling to herself, she tucked the envelope from “Berthold Mangrum” inside her folded copy of the Central Times, closed the mailbox, and headed for the stairs, a scene from the not-too-distant past playing in her memory.

“Moving to Central could be the more dangerous thing we’ve ever done,” he said solemnly, the gravity of the words dampened somewhat by the fact that he was beginning to slur his words, and that they were seated on the floor of her new apartment, surrounded by boxes. “I’m not liked here, Grumman’s not liked here... I don’t think even Hughes was particularly liked.” He shook his head. “We’re going to have to be extra careful in working to get to the top. Compartmentalize information, redact files, verbal check-and-response when we talk over serious stuff... maybe codenames.”

Reaching out, Riza caught his hand and removed the wine glass from it before his gesturing as he spoke ended up with spilled alcohol or broken glass. “We already have codenames,” she reminded him, taking a sip from her own glass. She was not so far gone as he was, mostly due to the fact that she she was pacing herself to avoid that situation, but she could feel the light buzzing in her mind beginning to get stronger. “‘Elizabeth,’ ‘Jacqueline,’ ‘Kate....’”

“You have a codename,” he countered. “But I don’t. ‘The Flame Alchemist’ does not count,” he said, cutting her off with a levelled finger as she opened her mouth to say exactly that. “I need one for things that maybe the higher-ups don’t need to know about.”

“And so which one of your sisters will you be co-opting this new name from?” she countered, leaning back against a box. From the way it clinked, she suspected it contained the flatware they hadn’t been able to find at dinner time. “Madeline? Vanessa? Or maybe... as the leader, you become the leader.” She smiled with no small amount of wickedness as his eyes darted toward her. “I think you would make a very good Chris.”

“Careful. If you say that too loud, it summons her.” Apparently done his gesticulating, he retrieved his own wine glass, taking a thoughtful sip. “What if... I took the name from another part of our lives? Still one that isn’t likely to be recognized as being connected with me, but with enough significance to us to make it obvious?”

When she was safe behind her apartment door, with Hayate prancing excitedly around her feet, Riza took the envelope from its hiding place, and glanced at the name again. Her father’s name, little-known even in its connection to her, the same for ‘Mangrum;’ a simple anagram of her grandfather’s name, the two references combined together in a way that could only be Roy.

Tearing the envelope open, she left it on the counter, moving to sit on the floor with her dog, who immediately climbed into her lap to shower her face in welcome-home licks. Craning her neck to see past his ears, she caught the first few words, enough to recognize the clue that the paragraphs held a message within a message.

“Hayate.” She used the special voice; the command voice, and he instantly froze, watching her intently. “Guard.”

The little Shiba gave a sharp yap, nearly deafening her with its closeness before scrambling off her lap and beginning at slow patrol of the apartment. Riza still wasn’t sure how well a dog’s sense for the supernatural did at detecting nosy Homonculi, but she was willing to bet that if Pride came sniffing around, Hayate would sense him coming.

Getting up, she retrieved a pen from beside the telephone, and settled at the kitchen table, spreading the letter in front of her. ‘Dear Riza,’ it started, innocently enough. ‘Five weeks since we last spoke.’ Pen at the ready and dog on alert, she skimmed the letter quickly.

Dear Riza:

Five weeks since we last spoke. I thought I would miss drinking, but, I tell you, turns out its not so bad; it’s just very much a battle royale of will. I’ll probably have to call ‘uncle’  and give in soon, the question is just how soon. I probably shouldn’t do, but I promise that I’m okay. The new job’s fine; I’m trying out some new ideas, some methods, some plans. It’s all starting to form up.

Ironworkers union might strike soon. “We’re all a team!” they say. It’s getting old. They’re no team, just friends getting the short stick from management. There’s a wage war, basically. I think a bartender earns more. Nobody will pass the picket line, so you know they’ll win soon.

Information kiosk being built downtown. Men started construction, getting it all set up. It’s a fine idea; good for tourists, kids getting lost, old people too.

I remember that you love Xingese food. I told you about the new noodle take out place, right? They care a lot about customers.

Whoops, five minute break is over; better get back to work. Have a good one.

Sincerely, Berthold Mangrum

She double-checked the letter and her interpretation of the code, writing each word as she found it in the margins of the paper. Hayate still prowled about, his claws clicking lightly on the wooden floor, occasionally stopping to sniff some innocuous item or other. By the time she finished, Roy’s message was loud and clear.

Five weeks since we last spoke. That was the code clue. A number in the first sentence to give her the basis for deciphering whatever he’d hidden in more innocuous sentences.

I thought I would miss drinking, but, I tell you, turns out its not so bad; it’s just very much a battle royale of will. I’ll probably have to call ‘uncle’ and give in soon, the question is just how soon. I probably shouldn’t do, but I promise that I’m okay. The new job’s fine; I’m trying out some new ideas, some methods, some plans. It’s all starting to form up.

She wrote quickly. miss you so much/will call soon/how do/ I’m fine/new plans form- She frowned, the sentence not making sense until she checked the next paragraph.

Ironworkers union might strike soon. “We’re all a team!” they say. It’s getting old. They’re no team, just friends getting the short stick from management. There’s a wage war, basically.

new plans/form strike team/old friends from war

Now that made sense. He had made mention once of how his squad had shown a little appreciation when the fighting was over, how they liked his command style, and especially that he worked to keep them safe in a battle, instead of sending them headlong into danger. She paused, trying to remember all the names he had told her, but knew she fell short. She could recall Damiano, Charlie… Dino was a possibility, though she wasn’t sure.

I think a bartender earns more. Nobody will pass the picket line, so you know they’ll win soon.

Information kiosk being built downtown. Men started construction, getting it all set up. It’s a fine idea; good for tourists, kids getting lost, old people too.

The part of her mind that wasn’t concentrating on deciphering his code was left free to observe that, to anyone else reading this letter, it would sound scattered, distracted, rambling…. Probably exactly how Bradley and the Homonculi thought he would be after being stripped of his most essential staff and being placed under careful surveillance.

bartender pass you Information/men all fine/ - good, that was a load off of her mind – kids too

So it was his intention to pass her information through his mother; probably the safest best. Chris knew how to keep her mouth shut and keep from being noticed. But the next part…. Riza frowned again. Kids? Did he maybe mean Elicia and hadn’t found a way to use the singular form — oh. Her shoulders relaxed in relief she didn’t know she had been hoping for; the Elrics were all right. Spirits rising, she turned her attention to the last couple of lines… and felt them take off as though rocket-propelled.

I remember that you love Xingese food. I told you about the new noodle take out place, right? They care a lot about customers.

Four simple words that somehow felt like a steadying hand on her shoulder, or a soft, soothing kiss to her forehead. love you/take care

The last line, ‘Whoops, five minute break is over; better get back to work. Have a good one.’ was the indicator that the code was finished, with no more to follow until the next letter. Riza kept her eyes on those last four decoded words as she stood, moving toward the kitchen sink. Reaching into a drawer beside it, she withdrew a small card box, and regretfully set the letter into the metal basin.

She struck the match and let it fall, consuming the evidence… and letting the flames burn the words into her memory.

#royaiweek20 #fma #fmab #royai #royza #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #royai fanfiction

[tsukikoayanosuke]

The Captain’s Rambling - How TW:OPT was written

Well, today (it's already the 29th of September in my timezone) is a special day and I just uploaded the newest chapter with interesting things going on in there. I did promise that I will tell you how Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure was written, right? Well, gather around children. The captain has a story to tell.

I think it was around March of this year and I think it was the early stage of quarantine in my country. I was like relaxing, watching YouTube while having an online class at the same time (please, don't do this at home). Around that time my autoplay got me some Black Butler amv and being that girl who never watches popular anime, I only have the vaguest idea about Black Butler except everyone seems thirsty over Sebastian. But the concept of master & servant always interests me. So, I tried actively search for some Black Butler AMV until finally, I came across a thumbnail of 'Ciel'. However, I soon found out that it was not a Black Butler AMV, but instead, it was the Twisted Wonderland opening song.

My first thought was: "Oh no. Is Disney making another Kingdom Hearts series?"

After a quick search in Wikipedia, I decided to cruise through Tumblr, seeing some cute stuff, and then, just out of curiosity, I check whether there was any fanfiction of this game. Lo and behold, Archive of Our Own has a section already. So, of course, I wanted to read some fics, because that's apparently my job. While very early there are some Canon Characters/Reader fics, I tend to avoid it for now, I found a fic titled 'Beyond the Looking-Glass' and it's also a crossover with Kingdom Hearts. So, I was like: "Okay. Let's give it a try." A few sentences later I found a familiar name: 'Hikari'. My brain was a bit slow at that time so I scrolled back up and looked at the author and then it suddenly clicked and I got a surprise. Ah... No wonder that name sounded familiar...

A quick visit back to Tumblr and I found out that, yes, it was the same Hikari KH OC that. Apparently, wingbladeweaver1357 also plays Twisted Wonderland? Okay...

That somehow convinced me to give this game a try.

Reading the fanfic wasn't enough so I watched Ami Yoshiko Twisted Wonderland videos and then Shel_BB's translation to understand the plot so I can follow the fanfic too. Slowly but surely, I started to fell in love with the game.

However, it wasn't enough for me.

So, I was reading the translation for Episode 3 and I reached the part where MC signed the contract with Azul. And I remember thinking: "A very miss opportunity to make it a 'Poor Unfortunate Soul' musical segment." And it gave me an idea: what if I write a songfic just for that scene?

However, there was a problem. Because the MC/Yuu is basically our self-insert, many people, including me, have their own interpretation. So, if I write a (Y/N) fic with my interpretation of the MC/Yuu, it would probably only appeal to a small audience.

So, I decided to make my own MC. And thus, Jonah Argentum was born. But his creation story is a story for another time.

With my MC/OC created, I can actually start writing. However, another problem started. How do I introduce my MC/OC into this songfic? Would the reader able to connect with him in his first debut?

And then, I got a crazy idea. What if I basically adapt the whole game with my MC/OC?

Around that time, the fanfictions weren't as many as now and more of them are Canon Characters/Readers or Original Female Character(s). Nothing wrong with that, but I sort of wish that we have more Original Male Character(s) just for variety. Most of the fanfics that were following the canon plot hadn't even passed the Prologue. So... Why not? I think I'm part of the earliest fic posted in AO3's Twisted Wonderland fandom. I'm not the first one to do this adaptation, but I think I'm the first one with male MC/OC.

After reading some translation and imagining the whole this as an anime, on 15 April 2020, the first two chapters of Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure was posted.

Throughout April, I managed to finish adapting Welcome to the Villains' World, and on May 4th (because Star Wars day) I posted the first chapter of The Crimson Tyrant and I think I was the first one to start with the Heartslabyul adaptation.

On the first update, I decided to make a Tumblr account to write my notes for each chapter, because I have some references and trivia I want to write and I'm afraid that I would be too much if I post it on the note section of AO3. And thus, officially started the Behind the Fic - TW:OPT.

By the time the fic reached 100 kudos, I decided to write something to celebrate. Now that at least I have some readers who are familiar with Jonah, I felt like it would be okay if I write that Poor Unfortunate Soul songfic. It became the first fic in the Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure - Gaiden.

Around June, I suddenly had an idea to maybe branched out to Wattpad, because of course that site has a Twisted Wonderland fandom. And thus, around 6 June 2020, Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure was re-posted on Wattpad.

And in August I found out that FanFiction.net finally has its own page for Twisted Wonderland. So, of course, I wanted to post it there too, because it's basically going back to my roots. I started in FF.net, of course, I would eventually come back to that site. Thus, starting 25 August 2020, Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure is available on FanFiction.net

Do you think I went overboard with the re-post? Probably yes.

The fanfic is still going strong even though the update wasn't as frequent as it usually did once, but even until now I still enjoy writing it. It's strange on itself. I usually got bored by Chapter 10, but with TW:OPT we're only 11 chapters away from hitting the 100th Chapter Mark. Today's chapter is the adaptation of the original idea to make it a songfic, and thus I feel like it would be a perfect time to tell the origin story.

Another thing that today is my birthday, so I decided to give you guys something other than the update.

Thank you so much for those who had been sticking around for this small fic (I guess I can't call it small anymore, huh?) whether you were there since the beginning or finding it through Tumblr or just finding it now. Thank you for giving this fic a chance. I tried my best to reply to all the comments posted there to show that I appreciate the responses, kudos, and bookmarks. Thank you as well for those who had been sticking around Tumblr. I hope you don't mind my notes.

A special thanks to @wingbladeweaver1357​ for being my inspiration to write this fic as well.

Well, then. If you want to ask anything, my DM and Ask Box is always open.

And I guess I should say this...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fic #twst fic #twisted-wonderland: our precious treasure

[sometimesrosy]

1: Do you think it’s odd that C fell in love with L after she was not only responsible for Finn’s death, causing C to have to mercy-kill him, but also the reason C was forced to kill all those people in Mt Weather? I’m trying to understand their relationship and how it all worked. Her people were so angry at C for falling for L, but she wasn’t trying to betray them; it was innocent. And she chose her people in the end, right before L was killed. L’s made to be this great love for C. Is she?

(I’m answering your 1 and 2 separately because I think they are separate questions about two separate characters’ experiences with the same narrative element.)

Okay. So I didn’t understand in season 3 what all was going on with that and did a lot of work to understand how Clarke could so easily forgive and love L for what she did and what I came up with is two different interpretations one authorial (the Doylist explanation) and one in narrative (the Watsonian explanation.)

Before I start, no. I don’t think L was made to be this great love for C. I think the fandom fell in love with L for many decent reasons, and picked up on some archetypes in the story as a whole, and the traditional romantic tale of the warrior king and the captive princess, and they just really wanted that story, even deserved that story, so the fandom interpretation made The 100 INTO that story. 

I have rewatched the story looking for that great romance, and while there’s some hints of it, and it’s NOT subtextual (which is possibly why the LGBT community was so happy to get it since they are denied that in most of pop culture) the romance of C and L was for me far, FAR too political in nature for me to find it a great, passionate romance. It was all power games except for the episode with Pauna, if I must be honest. And their love scene, in which L had already sentenced her people to death and Clarke had already decided to go home and it was just two women outside of politics consummating their connection. That part didn’t bother me, it was lovely and a moment of peace. I didn’t love that they didn’t talk about anything important, that they COULDN’T, because for me, intimacy and a great love REQUIRES that kind of openness and honesty, at least for the moment. What I need to see in a romance wasn’t there for me. But I’m sure what other people need to see in a romance WAS. It is quite clear that a large portion of the shipping community LOVEloveLOVES the dynamic of powerful dominating warrior who kidnaps and falls for the warrior princess turned vulnerable maiden (witness the latest craze in Star Wars which is also something I *do not like.*) My distaste for that dynamic does not mean that others are wrong for loving that dynamic. I don’t have to get it. It’s not my preference to reconcile with my life and understanding. It’s theirs. Ship and let ship.

Okay, onto my understanding of what the heck was going on with CL in Polis after L betrayed and harmed her so terribly. The doylist interpretation, why they would write that story and what their intention is, is about themes and symbolism and the journey of the hero. No problem there. But my watsonian interpretation, about why Clarke, the character, would submit herself to that, is psychological, and has gotten me into major trouble. But I’m gonna say it anyway, so if you love Lxa and are offended by people looking at the dark side of the CL relationship please do not read.  I’ll put it under the jump, but for some reason that doesn’t work all the time, so when I warn you to stop reading please stop. Be a responsible consumer of the media. And if you choose to read it anyway, recognize that it was your choice and I gave you plenty of opportunity to not be offended, so don’t send me nasty anons please, because you accepted the risk to your sensibilities.

Allright. Doylist:

Clarke is the hero, and Lxa is Clarke’s shadow, her dark side. Her animus.The masculine version of herself who is a ruthless mass murderer willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for her goals. She has always had this side. Maybe her first kill, Atom, was one of mercy, but her second kill, the grounder holding her hostage was NOT. It was to get free and save her people. But Atom and the grounder guard were killed in the same way. Get close, distract with gentleness, then insert blade into jugular. Clarke’s shadow side is the one that allowed the bomb to drop on TonDC (notice she was egged on, if not bullied into it, by L.)  It was the same part of her that even contemplated killing all of MW to save her people. Her shadow betrays her allies for her own people. Clarke was unable to do it on her own until Bellamy helped her. Bellamy is a different kind of dark to her light, but with a similar symbolism, yin/yang, and kind of actually ends up being the light to her dark, which is a whole other symbolic journey that totally transforms the yin yang of CL into something healing seasons later and not what we’re talking about but if you can recognize that similarity to the archetypes there you can recognize what it is about that dynamic that people love so much.

Okay, so the whole point of having that shadow side for a hero is that the hero has to EMBRACE their shadow side in order to be a full identity. They need to stop resisting their darkness and encompass it in their selves, only then can they step into their full powers. I think this is considered Jungian analysis, if you want to read up on it. That’s where you get a lot of the archetypes and symbolism going. Also, you can see it in the Hero’s Journey by Joseph Campbell which builds on Jungian analysis to create a mythic journey we see in many archetypal tales.

Oh, also. Another doylist interpretation. Clarke in Polis is like Odysseus on Circe’s island. Odysseus stays with Circe and is enchanted with her, despite her turning his crew into pigs. He stays for years with her. All while Penelope is left behind to fend off suitors. So Clarke in Polis would be alluding to The Odyssey, a text that is OFTEN referenced on this show. Yes, that would make Bellamy Penelope. (does that mean the suitors are Pike and Kane as well as Gina and Echo? I think it might, actually.)

So why does Clarke fall for L after all that damage? My Doylist interpretation says because Clarke needed to embrace the shadow and because they were reinterpreting The Odyssey. L was Clarke’s shadow the way Circe was Odysseus’ shadow. Anima/Animus. Also, this embracing and acceptance of the shadow story continued on all the way until s5, and I think you can see it in the “be the good guys/maybe there are no good guys/there are no good guys/be the good guys” journey, which was NOT embraced until Clarke talked with flame Lxa and she said she was wrong, betrayal was wrong and love was not a weakness. Shortly after that, Clarke identified the good guy, and it was Bellamy. Then Monty told them to be the good guys and Clarke has not wavered since.

OKAY. Watsonian incoming. All CL and L faithful, please turn away.

okay, so it turns out that when i write about something that once got me harassed or made friends/fandom turn against me, I have to emotionally prepare for it. 

So here’s the thing. The 100 is about Clarke Griffin as the protagonist (and Bellamy Blake as the secondary protagonist,) and s3 is about TRAUMA. Trauma and recovery. Both Clarke and Bellamy are traumatized by MW and encounter a shadow self that represents who they COULD have been, if not for the presence of the other. Clarke could have been the tyrannical leader who thinks she is always right and Bellamy could have been the vengeful leader out to exterminate his enemies. Here you connect the symbolic shadow symbology to the psychological wounding of the trauma and recovery.

If you read Polis as Clarke’s mental journey, it starts to make sense. She lost it and became feral, L kidnapped her and dragged her to Polis. She imprisoned her and, through a series of positive and negative reinforcements (the carrot and the stick), gaslighting, and power games, she turned Clarke to her side and made her empathize with her captor and betrayer. She gave her a way to survive the trauma of what she’d done by telling her everyone does it, it’s okay. 

Why does she believe her? Because she is traumatized and she’s been isolated from her people in a dangerous place where only L keeps her safe. 

Why does she begin to empathize with L? Because this is a psychological phenomenon that is actually common when a person has been kidnapped, removed from their world, and forced to join the other side. We call it Stockholm Syndrome, and the most basic definition is when a kidnap victim begins to have feelings for and empathize with their kidnap victim.

It’s how you survive. And it’s not a thing that is just about Clarke. It turns out that it happened to a LOT of women in tribal times when one tribe would raid another and kidnap women to bring back as wives or slaves or what have you. 

The women who were kidnapped JOINED the kidnappers tribe, because what else could they do?

Anyway. Clarke is dealing with her dark traumatic experiences, L kidnaps her and draws her to her side, she empathizes with L, falls in love, psychologically accepts that her dark side is the right side to handle all this horror, and then returns to her people, not quite whole, but partly healed and limping along in her journey. 

Polis itself was part of the seduction. It was beautiful and comfortable and passionate and romantic and candlelit. A lot of the fandom saw the romance of the seduction and decided that meant the creators were saying that CL was beautiful and L was the new hero of the story, without noticing that it was Clarke’s unreliable narrator, traumatized POV that was clinging to that beauty so she didn’t have to face the pain of what she did, and her people. Shoot. No matter if some people, when getting confirmation from the writers that Polis was a dark psychological story for Clarke, then blamed the FANDOM for never noticing and saying that the only people who did were screaming “ABUSE!” and so were then clearly unreliable. Yes. They were talking about me. Because I TOLD them, personally, in a huge meta discussion, that it was a dark psychological journey and I laid it out for them, and they well. Turned on me, blocked me, ignored me, and then blamed me for them not understanding the damn story. I am still salty to this day. But then, they are no longer in the fandom.

Other people, CL fans, didn’t like that I said Clarke was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, but if you look it up, you’ll see she fits the definition. L literally kidnapped and imprisoned her and this is evident in narrative, dialogue and word of god. 

Why do we think that’s a romantic story? Because it is an old school, traditional romance tale of literal raiding warriors kidnapping women and bringing them back as wives. So romantic. It had to be, because otherwise the women suffering from trauma would not be able to survive. 

There are no more raiders in modern western society, but the story is imbedded in our collective unconscious and our archetypal stories.

I hate them.

Some people love them.

And the people who love them are immensely offended that the people who hate them recognize an abusive, oppressive and traumatic story within them. And then they send us hate anons and mock us for being abuse survivors and “irrational” and telling us “it’s just fiction, Janice.” and on and on and on. 

#the 100 #clarke griffin #character development #cl fans turn away please #dark psychological journey #shadow

[starshinehemmo]

The One in Which Your Child Plays Cupid (Professor!Luke)

(mobile) masterlist

word count: 3,7k+

summary: in the end, it’s only thanks to your child that you manage to snatch up your charming professor.

+++

“What's a ‘derogation rule’?” asked a small voice. Everybody's attention diverted to the front of the class, where your little girl sat at the massive teacher's desk, colouring in her book. The professor smiled, turning to her to direct his answer.

“Well, little girl,” he began, “First of all, what do we do before we speak?”

Your daughter's eyes widened, as she blushed. “Oops,” she said. “We raise our hand.”

“That's correct. Another point for the princess!” His eyes twinkled almost as bright as hers as he added another star to her name in the list. Professor Hemmings had taught her how to write her name, so she could scribble it down in his list in order to have her own spot, and whenever she got something right, he'd add to the stars which already continued on to the next page. “Students,” he then said, turning back to the rest of his class, “You should really keep up. Adelaide here is way ahead of you!” The class chuckled while Adelaide looked smug at the professor's comment.

He faced her again. “And now to answer your question, Addy, a ‘derogation rule’ is a norm in which an annulment or invalidation regarding another law is described. Make any sense?”

Adelaide's face scrunched up as she ran his sentence in her mind over again, trying to break it into words and interpret them. After a while, during which no one interrupted her thought process, she nodded her head. “Yeah, I guess so.” For a four-year-old, your little girl already had a massive vocabulary stored in her brain, thanks to her frequently sitting in during your lectures. Her favourite was, of course, Professor Hemmings' one.

He smiled. “Great. Moving on.” He clapped his hands once, getting right back to where he left off, as Adelaide returned her focus to her colouring book.

And this was how it went most of his classes. The professor—well, he was actually just a teacher’s assistant—lectured, and every now and then, Adelaide would raise her hand—or like today, just blurt her question out loud. You'd been a stay-at-home mom for almost two years of her life, but then decided to come back to study as your daughter had grown old enough to either stay at day care or like today, visit your lectures.

///

“Hey, you,” said a voice, pulling you out of your slumber. Instantly, your eyes widened and you shot right up in your seat...and knocked your head into said person's chin. He groaned in pain, mumbling, “Fucking hell.” Professor Hemmings released another string of profanities. “How can a person as small as you hurt so much?”

“I'm—Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry!” you exclaimed, blood rushing into your cheeks. The top of your head throbbed and it took everything in you to keep from rubbing at it. You were embarrassed enough. You couldn't believe you had fallen asleep in the middle of a lecture. 

The professor chuckled. “Don't worry about it,” he said, raising his arm. Probably to rub at his chin, which must hurt much more than your head. 

Still, you couldn't raise your eyes to look at him. “I apologise for falling asleep,” you said quietly and in a rush, as you began to gather up all your papers and books and stuffing them into your bag as quickly as possible. “I know that was very disrespectful of me, and it won't happen again. Again, I am very sorry!” you blurted, standing on wobbly legs. Finally, you somehow managed to meet his gaze, though you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. 

Surprisingly, Hemmings wasn't looking at you in a pissed off kind of way. His eyes more held amusement as his mouth twitched. Clearing his throat, he let his fist fall from his chin. “Are you alright?” he asked, the amusement fading. 

“Uh...” He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, my head hurts obviously. Your chin isn't that soft either, you know.” With that being said, you couldn't help but raise your hand and softly rub at the throbbing area of your head. There will most definitely be a noticeable bump tomorrow. “I—Uh, are you alright?”

“Yeah, that?” he asked, pointing towards his chin and then making a swiping motion with his hand. “That's nothing.” You could tell from the angry redness that it was not nothing. Guilt coloured your already red cheeks even redder, all the way to the tips of your ears. 

“I'm so sorry,” you said again, holding your hand out as if in peace offering. 

Hemmings smiled at you again, his eyes flickering towards your hand before returning back to your eyes. “What's got you sleeping in my lecture anyway?” There was mischief hidden in his voice. So much blood was rushing towards your face that you were beginning to slightly worry about the rest of your body. 

“That's not appropriate, I think, Professor.” 

He shrugged. “Only, if you make it inappropriate. Which would be all by your own doing. Me? I'm simply demanding an explanation as to what was so interesting the night before that it got you this tired at a one p.m. lecture that the only way to surpass said tiredness, was to sleep it off.”

Raising a hand to your cheek in embarrassment, you couldn't help but blush even harder due to how hot it was. “Stop,” you mumbled softly, half a smile, half a cringe resting on your face. “It's not what you think,” you said. “I'm a single mother.” Gripping the handles of your bag tightly, you dared to raise your eyes. 

He wasn't looking at you like you had expected him to. With pity maybe—people tend to look at you like that, thinking you were stuck with a tiny person you didn't want, when in fact you loved her more than life itself. Or with newfound disdain—people tend to look at you like that as well, because of your young age. Professor Hemmings on the other hand was looking at you with ... happiness and there was this glimmer in his eyes. “You have a kid?” he asked, smiling widely. 

“Uh, yeah. She's almost two.”

When Hemmings made a move to put down the seat in front of you, you raised your eyebrows. “What?” he asked, “Why stand when we can sit?”

So you unfolded your seat as well and sat down again. He leaned forward in his seat which forced you to back up a little. He didn't seem to notice. “So if she's almost two, how come you're so tired? Don't toddlers sleep through the night?” There was a genuine interest in his voice, another aspect about this conversation that positively surprised you.

“Well, yeah,” you began. “But sometimes I have to take the night shift when a co-worker cancels last minute, so there's that.”

Hemmings leaned back again. “Hmm,” he hummed. “How about, next time you get called in, you stay home the next day—”

“That's not—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted your interruption, laughing. “The professors here are all very understanding when it comes to children. Especially single parents. If you ask them, they'll forward you anything they touched on during the lecture you missed.”

“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly had not. 

“Of course. And you know,” he said, raising from his seat again. “You can bring her to lectures as well. To mine that is. Other's too, but I think they'd like a heads up prior to it. I'd really love to meet your little one.” And with a final smile he went back to the front of the class and began gathering up his own stuff. 

///

“That's it for today,” Professor Hemmings said as knocks erupted around the room. You quickly stuffed everything back into your bag and walked to your daughter in the front.

“Momma, look at this picture I drew for you!” she shouted, scrambling to get off the high chair to show you her artwork.

“Aw, baby, that's so pretty,” you congratulated her, while taking in the scenery (it was a flower field) with the three stick figures in the front, though you had to do a double take as you saw she had drawn her father into the picture as well—something she hadn't ever done before. “You drew daddy?” you asked quietly, failing to keep the enthusiasm in your voice.

“No, silly momma. I drew Lukey!” she exclaimed excitedly, holding the picture even higher up as she grinned at you.

“Oh?” came your surprise, as you turned to look at Luke with slightly widened eyes. His matched yours. There was also a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks, as he—like the Luke you, and maybe only you from all of your classmates, knew—began fumbling with his hands. He always did this when he was nervous. Though, you could see a grin trying to fight its way on his lips.

“You like it, momma?”

Redirecting your stare from Luke to your daughter, you crouched down in front of her, grabbing her waist and squeezing. “I love it so much, baby girl. You did a very nice job,” you told her, tapping her little nose.

She grinned, a smug look settling on her face. “Thank you, momma.”

“You're very welcome, sunshine.” Looking up, you smiled at a still flustered Luke and then back at your daughter. “Come on, let's finish packing you up and then we can go out to have our ice cream with fries.”

“Yay!” she squealed instantly. Adelaide thrusted her drawing into your chest, suggesting you should take it, before she scrambled up on the big chair and began collecting all of her supplies.

Above you, Luke cleared his throat. Patting his messenger bag, he said, “Good night. I'll see you guys next week,” and with a polite smile turned on his feet.

Quickly, you jumped up from your crouch, calling after him. There was a rush of adrenaline flowing through your veins and it was fuelling a very irrational part of your brain. “Now come on. That's no way for family to act, is it?” Your heart thudded so loudly, you feared he could hear it.

Facing you again, Luke stared at you, his lips slightly apart. “Excuse me?”

Taking a breath, you grinned, adjusting the strap of your bag. “According to my daughter, you're part of our little family. So, daddy—” he choked into a cough, causing your grin to turn into a rather mischievous one “—what do you say to ice cream and fries?”

His eyes fell on Adelaide for a second, who looked up at him in her sweet Adelaide-way. It made your heart swell—seeing both of them looking at each other like that. Though you'd never really paid attention to it, today you noticed just how much love Luke's gaze held when he looked at your daughter. And as him, Adelaide looked at him with so much wonder and amazement. It made you secretly wish that Luke really was her father. You knew, he'd have made a good one.

“Addy, sunshine—” There your heart went again, as he used the same nickname for your daughter. “—you okay with me joining your weekly ice cream date?”

She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up. “Yeah!” she said, and you couldn't help but notice how he said weekly, as in, he'd come with you every week? You were more than fine with that and chose to ignore the other possibility of him referring to the past weekly dates.

“Well,” Luke said, looking at you again. “I guess then it's settled.”

“I guess so,” you answered, grabbing for Adelaide's hand and pulling her off his chair. Together you left the auditorium, Luke walking on the other side of your daughter—her tiny hand clasped in his giant one, swinging.

///

The diner you went to was fairly in the middle of your route home. It had always been there but you hadn't actually walked in until you were pregnant with Adelaide and had major cravings for ice cream and fries. So basically, this tradition began even before she was born, making it that much more special.

Like every week, you walked. Adelaide tended to skip along the streets, drinking in every new thing she discovered with each step she took. You absolutely adored watching your daughter getting to know the world, loved the innocent questions she shot you with her big pure eyes that held an entire universe in them. It reminded you of your own childhood, as your mother loved telling you about what a smart child you had been. And your parents were the greatest tutors in your life, making sure to never leave a question unanswered. So you also paid attention to also give her an answer for whatever question she had, even if sometimes you didn't have the perfect one but rather only a weak "I don't know, baby”. Oftentimes she'd nod, run off and find the answer herself. And every time she shared it with you, amazement engulfed you, because how could such a little girl always manage to find an answer that satisfied her enough? Not even you had the pleasure to always find the right answer.

“Lukey, have you ever broken the law?” Adelaide asked, looking up at your professor, whose hand was still clasped around hers, contrary to yours, which was dangling lonely against your side. Somewhere along the walk she had let go and tugged Luke forward to show him her favourite flowers from a flower shop. With every other person, you would've been offended and maybe just a tiny bit hurt, but surprisingly, not with Luke. It was rather the opposite, as a giant smile had erupted on your face, watching them talk about their favourite animals and why they didn't like going to the zoo. (It was because they didn't like seeing them so sad and caged in.)

“Hm,” Luke said. “Let me think for a second.” After he'd decided on the most appropriate answer for a four-year-old, he said, “I've driven past the speed limit a couple of times before.” Adelaide gasped. “But nothing serious. I've never put anyone in danger by it,” he assured, watching her carefully, to see if she was satisfied with his answer.

“But Lukey, you're a teacher of the law!” Adelaide spoke, her eyes widened and clear horror written on her face. She stopped mid-stride, pushing their intertwined hands against his hips. “You should do better, Lukey.”

Both you and Luke snorted as you couldn't keep your laughter in. Glancing at each other, you saw the amusement in this situation. Your toddler kid was seriously scolding an almost uni-professor. Only your child would have the courage to do such a thing.

Adelaide's eyebrows scrunched up in annoyance at your laughing. “This isn't funny, mommy and Lukey. This is serious.” But upon seeing her adorable little face, you couldn't help but laugh even more, much to her anger. “Mommy! Don't laugh at me! Laws are here for a reason. You should all be ashamed of yourself,” she finished her speech, then freed her hand out of Luke's grasp, turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. Quickly, you silenced your laughter, even though you still found this moment to be quite funny, but didn't want your daughter to feel anymore ridiculed.

Looking at Luke, you saw that he held the same regretful expression. Shrugging, he exclaimed, “Yeah, don't laugh at Addy, mommy!” in a mock voice. You swallowed back a sound of surprise, as your heart forgot a beat in its rhythm.

But Adelaide only said, “You laughed, too, Lukey.”

Clearing his throat, he crouched down behind Adelaide—awkwardly, long limbs bent uncomfortably—and said, “We're sorry we laughed, Addy, sunshine.” But she simply took another step away from him. And you could've sworn, you saw Luke's shoulders drop a tiny bit as he witnessed her rejection to his apology—like he was seriously hurt by the distance she put between them. Tentatively, he reached his hand forward and sweetly swiped his forefinger across the back of her neck and then tickled her back, which, of course, caused her to giggle and pull away. “Don't be mad, little girl. We are very sorry and you're right. We should pay more attention to the laws since they were put in place for a reason. I promise I won't speed anymore. And your mommy. . .Well, I actually don't know what laws she likes to break, so mommy—” he looked up at you, the same clouded look in his eyes that he had before, when he had called you mommy “—what laws do you like breaking, huh?”

Glaring and blushing at him at the same time, you said, “Sometimes I walk even when it's still red. But like Luke promised, I will also try to never walk when it's red, because that is against the law,” before crouching down beside Luke to wait for your daughter's reaction.

With that being said, Adelaide spun back around, the biggest grin plastered on her face as she threw herself into you two and latched her arms around your necks. Both of you laughed, hugging her back and in result, each other. You must've looked funny to bystanders, crouched there in a heap—a triangular hug. Though as the seconds ticked by, all your mind seemed to focus on, was how much of a family you must've looked like as well.

Luke's arm was wound tightly around your waist, and the second he removed it, your skin tingled from the loss of contact.

“Now,” he said. “I think two very pretty girls promised me ice cream with fries, no?” He reached for your daughter’s hand again, smiling in content.

///

“Addy, sunshine, look at your face,” you exclaimed, giggling. “It’s full of ice cream.” Grabbing a napkin, you reached across the table to wipe it off, but were beat to it by Luke.

“I got it,” he said, taking the napkin from you and gently wiping Adelaide’s mouth. When he finished, Addy turned her head and grinned at him. This sight truly warmed your heart. Unsurprisingly, your daughter had chosen to sit next to Luke, leaving you all by yourself on the other side. It gave you a perfect view to watch them interact, though, and seeing them together made you forget all about the fact that Adelaide had chosen somebody else over you. The fact made you even strangely happy.

It reminded you of a father-daughter relationship.

///

Adelaide yawned. “I’m tired, momma.”

“We’re going home now. In just a few minutes you can go to sleep, all right?” you said, pulling her to her feet.

“But I don’t think I can make it home, momma.” She pouted. And for good measurement, she swayed a little, her eyes widening in innocence.

Biting your lip, you knew exactly what she was trying to achieve here. “Addy, you’re such a big girl now. Momma doesn’t have the strength to carry you.”

She grinned, the tired face she’d perfected slipping for a tiny moment, as she said “But Lukey can!”, before she went back to swaying.

“Oh no, baby, he can’t,” you told her, blushing. “That’s not—”

“Sure, I can,” Luke’s voice interrupted you.

You shot Adelaide an scolding look, before regarding Luke with an apologetic one. “You really don’t have to. She’s just being lazy, and if she really can’t carry on, I’ll carry her. Really, it’s no problem. Least of all yours.”

Luke solemnly shook his head, grinning. “I got this. Relax, momma bear.”

Dang, what the hell was up with this man today? If he kept calling you any more of these things, your heart might just jump straight out of your chest.

///

“It was a really nice day today. With you,” said Luke from behind you, as you fumbled with your keys to fit in the lock of your apartment.

Grinning to yourself, you threw him a smile across your shoulder. “I enjoyed your company as well, Professor.” Finally, the key disappeared into the lock and with a satisfying click, you nudged the door open.

Turning around, you could see Luke rolling his eyes at you. “I really don’t want to think of myself as your teacher.”

For a second, fear froze your body. But then you saw the blush in his cheeks and how his teeth were buried in his bottom lip. “And why’s that?” Slowly, your tongue ran across your own lip. “Professor?”

With your sleeping daughter in his arms, he took a tentative step closer to you. “Well,” he said, gaze wandering to his feet. “I don’t know about you, but I rather think a teacher-student-relationship is unethical. Don’t you agree?” His eyes met yours.

Slowly, you reached out to brush through Adelaide’s soft hair. “Who said anything about a relationship?” you tease, keeping your voice serious.

“I—I thought—” Luke began to stutter, his cheeks flaming red, but you wanted to toy with him just a little longer, just because he looked so darn adorable. “Okay, this is kind of awkward. . .” he said, as he tried to look anywhere, but at you. “I’m so sorry—”

His agony caused you agony as well and suddenly you couldn’t bear to see him this uncomfortable anymore. In a swift move, you placed your hands on either side of his face to pull him down to you and pressed your lips to his.

Luke stumbled into you, but quickly regained his balance so he wouldn’t smash Adelaide between your bodies. “Wha—” came his surprised voice, but you only kissed him harder. Luke relaxed, kissing you like he had all the time in the world and like he was in a rush all at once. His feet came closer to yours, pushing you back into your apartment.

Once you were all inside, he leaned back, whispering, “I really wish I had my hands free for this,” against your cheek, laughing quietly.

Pulling back, you took Adelaide from his arms and solemnly stood there, staring at him sheepishly. “Did this just seriously happen?” you asked, blushing.

Luke shook out his arms and then placed his hands in his pockets. He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, I hope it did.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to sound like a creeper or anything,” he said, “but I’ve been dreaming of this. With you.” He blushed.

“You only sound like a creep a little tiny bit,” you assured him, laughing. “Let me just put her down, and then we can have a cup of coffee?”

“I don’t drink coffee, but sure,” Luke called after you, as you were already walking towards Adelaide’s room.

Turning around, you said, “Tea then. Just stay for a second, please?”

He grinned again, giving you a thumbs up. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll stay.”

And that was more than enough.

+++

a/n i wrote this ages ago. seriously, i remember first writing this when i started uni, so 4 years ago almost? i hope it somehow brightened your quarantine :)

#can't believe i'm publishing this after 4 years lmao #luke hemmings #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #fan fiction #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings one shot #luke imagine #luke fanfic #i hate tagging this things it's such a hassle omg #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos fan fiction #calm #yo this new tumblr is fucking me up #i wanna do line breaks!!!!! #gimme line breaks @ tumblr!!!

[thesongthesoulsings]

Evil Doings - SPN One Shot - Dean x OC

She was observing him, trying to find out what exactly was troubling him. Maybe she was wrong in her assumption that something was bothering him, but she didn't think so. Dean tended to stick to himself when thoughts were plaguing him, and that was exactly what he was doing for a few days by now. He didn't talk much, he didn't look relaxed nor peaceful or happy - quite the contrary - he seemed tense and easy to irritate. Lost in thoughts she had forgotten that her eyes were still lingering on him, which lead to her being startled as soon as Dean spoke. "Like what you see?" His voice lacked its usual playfulness and his green eyes weren't looking at her either, instead they were fixed on the book about the evolution of rock music she had given him for his birthday. With a small smile in her voice she answered. "Actually I do." Seeing how a smile formed on his lips, she smiled as well, hoping he would look up from the book. He didn't. "So you're enjoying the book?"

"Sure. Great choice, Asa." Taking a sip from her coffee she decided to join him at the kitchen table. He looked at her - finally! Her brown eyes wanted to analyze his captivating green ones but failed miserably, instead she had the feeling of falling into their depths. Her feelings for him were far from being new, but something in the way he looked at her that moment nearly broke her. He seemed afraid and vulnerable, trying to distance himself. "What is it, Dean?" She finally managed to ask with a voice that resembled a whisper. He took his eyes from her, standing slowly and attempting to leave the room. "Dean!" Her voice was filled with certainty and had found to strength once more, which made him stop in his track. Silence followed - silence that didn't hold for long. The matter at hand was too important to let silence take its triumph. "I know something is wrong and I can't bear it anymore. I'm used to your irrational "I need to hide everything"-behavior but this time my intuition tells me that it has something to do with me. I want to know why you can't look at me any longer. I know I didn't do anything to deserve this treatment, so either tell me what the heck is going on or..." She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't want to think about this option, but she suspected Dean would want to know how the sentence was intended to be finished. His back was still facing her. "Or?" She sighed designated. "Or you'll have to watch me suffer from our broken bond." He turned around, his face serious, his jaw clenching. "Dean, you can't expect your actions to be free from consequences. We used to trust one another, to laugh, to sing, to just chat and comment on stupid movies. Now you're ignoring me and trying to bring as much space between us as possible. How do you expect me to react?"

"Asa, trust me - if I told you, it would ruin all the things you just listed." Without intending to, her head leaned slightly to the side. Did he do something that would make her furious? Or did he reciprocate her feelings, thinking she didn't feel that way about him? The first one seemed more likely to her. 

"Did you do something that makes you think I'll hate you?" His brows furrowed and the dimples she loved so much appeared, signaling her his disapproval. "No."

Instead of feeling relieved like she had expected, she felt her heart pound - heavy in her chest. It felt like an eternity till she found the courage to say something. The following words may very well change their whole relationship forever. "In that case I think I may know what all this is about." The Winchester she loved with everything she had, raised his brows. "Don't look at me like that!" A smirk - the first one in days - spread across Deans face. "Like what?" The dark blonde beauty could feel her eyes twinkling. "Like it would be surprising if I knew anything at all." Dean seemed amused, his mouth twitching into a boyish smile, his lips pursed. 

"You know that you are one of the smartest people I know, Sweetheart." Crossing her arms under her chest she smiled back, ignoring the heat in her cheeks, before letting seriousness take over again. "I miss you, Dean." Deans hands were in his pockets, eyes on the ground. "Asa..." She interrupted him. "Like I said, I think I know what all this is about and I can guarantee that you are not alone with those feelings." His eyes shot up to her. His face spoke of astonishment and skepticism. "What?" She shrugged apologetically. "I didn't want to ruin what we had. I once risked it, maybe you remember. After that ghost haunt in Georgia? I took you in my arms, relieved that you were alive, and said "I love you". It came over me. When I saw your face and gulping I added "two" , caressed your face and took also Sam in my arms. I thought you would've distanced yourself from me. Although I tend to just put everything on the table, things were different with you - with us." Slowly he approached her, every step of his anticipated by her. The tension between them was palpable. As soon as he stood before her, his hand wandered to her heated cheek. Their eyes locked. "I don't want you to suffer." Her nose reached to touch his, to feel more of him, to create more intimacy. "Was I right in assuming all this was about you developing certain feelings?"

"Certain feelings?" His mouth twitched into a slight smile for the second time in a short period of time. "Well, Dean don't pretend to be unaware of my lacking inclination for romantic talk." His smile grew. "I love you." His voice was soft and the lips that claimed hers afterwards may have been rougher than hers, but they still fell in the category of soft. Soft, warm, dedicated and inviting. His scent engulfed her, making her moan against his mouth, her hands grasping his broad shoulders while her body pressed itself against his. His free hand meanwhile had found to her waist, assisting her with the effort of bringing their bodies as close together as possible. When their tongues touched, it was on Dean to moan. She tasted like the Coffee she had been drinking, like lightly metallic vanilla combined with something that made him think of the summer. She smelled like rainy summer nights under orange trees and - again - faintly warm vanilla. His hand wandered into her voluminous hair, letting her whimper. They had cuddled before - more or less - while watching movies, but never had they experienced the mixture of sensations they could enjoy now. There was not just the unique smell of the other but the taste as well. Dean wasn't the only one aware of that. For the first time Asa got to taste him - her best friend, her year long love interest. The years of waiting had paid off and she savored it - savored him. He tasted like the blueberry muffins she had baked the night before, like something she couldn't quite sort - something entirely Dean that was sweet but slightly bitter at the same time. Intoxicating. He smelled of rainy forests, wet earth and his own fresh sweat. Her falling to her knees was a real possibility. Licking his bottom lip, she brought some space between them - just in time for Sam's arrival.

"There you are! I brought... oh." The younger Winchester seemed to have interpreted the situation correctly, holding both hands in the air, backing out of the room. Dean and Asa had both looked at the door, now turning to face each other again in synchronized manner. As if she had been holding her breath the woman sighed, placing both her hands on her hips. The hunters hands played their own play - one was in his pocket again, while the other ran down his face. "What changed your view of me?" She asked, her voice slightly hoarse, his taste still on her lips. He snorted.

"I tried getting you in my bed the first time I saw you at that gas station and you know it." She shook her head. "That changed when we started working together and I told you that I'm not a One-Night-Stand. Why - after all those years?" His jaw flexed, his eyes looking at a point over her shoulder. "You started talking about marrying someday, about having children... The same night that guy at the bar flirted with you and I wanted to break his face. I guess I never wanted to let anything distract me from our business. You know we don't live an apple pie life - I can't give you what you deserve. It's egoistical to bind you to me, but I don't want anybody near you either. You're sweet - God, you're perfect! I'm an asshole that only brings tragedy with him."

"Gosh, Dean stop playing the melodramatic martyr, will you? This whole monologue makes me want to puke. Do you know what is egoistical? Making decisions that are mine to make. We might not be living an apple pie life now, but maybe one day in the future we will. Even if not - my feelings for you didn't change in all those years. Not when you did dumbass stupid shit, not when you were a demon and not when you treated me like crap. I took a bullet for you, Dean! I want you - either you accept what we have or you make us both suffer unnecessarily like the idiot we - admittedly - sometimes are." One intense look of Dean's later she ended up pushed against the wall, his nose caressing the shell of her ear. She could hear him breathing in her scent. "Did you just call me an idiot?" She laughed. "Technically I called both of us idiots, but yes."

"Aren't you a smarty-pants, huh? " She could hear the smile in his words. "Oh, Sweetheart that calls for a punishment, don't you think?" One of her hands glided up his neck and into his hair. "If you want to see justice in this world, I assume so, yes."

"After all that's our job, Baby", he kissed the sensitive spot under her ear, earning himself a gasp on her side. Kissing his jaw with the side of her opened mouth she replied.

"Then let's get to work. I can't stay unpunished for my evil doings."

The End

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x oc #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #one shot #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester one shot #love #love confession #punishment

[cowandcalf]

Danny and Rachel Meta

This meta has been born because of this post and some other Danny and Rachel posts, discussing the same thing.

“Danny deserves better.”

My answer to this sentence: “Rachel deserves better, too.”

If you’re interested to know why I write this, read on.

Some rambling first.

There are a lot of posts on Tumblr right now with the content of the discussion what's going on with Danny and Rachel. I answered to this post today to express my view on this situation. I won't discuss the question if Rachel and Danny will be back together. We don't know that, and it makes no sense at all to freak out about a fact, that's not there yet.

No one knows what's going to happen and I don't jump to any conclusion just because of the sentence that says: "…and Rachel and Charlie evacuate to Danny's house, where the ex-spouses reminisce." Meaning they walk down memory lane – nowhere it's written that they are back together and until I have proof of what is really happening, I don't freak out and I definitely don't abandon the show.

I don't run for the hills because it gets difficult. My fangirl is seriously involved in the love for my OTP. I see myself as the guarding of my OTP (Do you think I'm crazy? You're right – I am!) I need to take care of them. Who does that when everyone thinks that it's time to leave just because it gets a little bit rough and bumpy?

So, everyone who talks for ages about the fact that they want to leave this show, let me tell you something - just leave and save yourself from more harm. Because the funny thing is, everyone sticks around despite their threat. I don't know why they have this masochistic streak but apparently, it suits them.

So, Danny and Steve going through a rough time. I'll stick around, meaning I'm glued to their hips, looking out for them and I fix things, because who else is gonna do that for them, if not fangirls and fanboys? Yes, yes, my view is always a lot different and yes, of course, I always respect all other opinions. I'm just so astonished how little it takes for so many to throw in the towel with the intention to leave – but at the end, they all stay.

Also, an important point, that gets swept lightly under the carpet is the fact, that McDanno should be end game. I've never ever read anywhere that CBS and Lenkov have promised to make McDanno end game. I live with this fact that McDanno never will be end game canon-wise. At least not in the proof of Steve kissing Danny, holding hands and having sex, living an open, happy relationship.

My intention for this meta is to explain to myself why Danny and Rachel end up in this corner where they are building a friendship. There's more understanding between them, more gentle feelings and somehow a new and deeper respect.

Rachel and Danny Meta

I can easily switch angles to have a different view to look at the characters. This meta shows the canon side.

There are facts, concerning Rachel and Danny that you can't ignore. I don't understand why people see Danny as the kind one in this relationship. So many always point out that Rachel betrayed him and that she's the bitch. Rachel always stands as the mean woman who has created this living hell Danny has to live in every day.

I beg to differ.

I want to have a better look at all of this. And yes, at the end it always, always ends with McDanno – with Danny's love for Steve. But I'm not there yet. So, the McDanno endgame is already there, but you have to find it, buried in a huge stack of not revealed love.

Rachel is marked as the mean woman by Danny's side. Yes, it's true she put Danny through some incredible mean shit and some of her actions left scars on Danny's heart and they never will properly heal. But Danny – Danny did the same damn hurtful thing to Rachel. Danny betrayed Rachel in the same, terrible way and I even dare to say that Danny's action forced Rachel to act in the way she did.

Danny and Rachel are both responsible in equal parts for the failing of their marriage. Both are 50% responsible, not one percent less. They met, they fell in love and their relationship ended in a disaster with the result to be divorced.

I dare to say that Danny is the one who drove Rachel away. Bad things happened back in Jersey during their years where they were together, trying to live a life, raising Grace.

There's a key scene that shows a big part of Danny's commitment. This scene enables a deeper look into the way Danny has treated Rachel during their relationship. I will interpret from this key scene in 1.24 where Danny forsook his whole family for his job, for his boss and his best friend, his partner – he chose Steve over his family. That's a fact.

I see a pattern here, showing off in this one scene. Danny promised something and he couldn't keep that promise because something more important at work came up. So, he decided and chose work and his partner instead of his family. And that's how Danny is wired.

I assume Rachel and Danny were madly in love and it was a firework of passion. Rachel held Danny's heart in her hand. But Danny is a dedicated policeman, a detective and so far, I've witnessed time and again that Danny's job always comes first in a case of emergency.

I'm sure Rachel couldn't cope with the fact that Danny lived for his job. I'm sure their fights were hard and rough and filled with bitterness and destroyed hopes because Danny was and will always be dedicated to his job. Grace got born and I'm sure the love for her could fix some of what was already gone between Rachel and Danny. In the end, they only fought and discussed and tried to guilt trip each other.

Danny loves deep and loyal. He's born to be a detective and he lives this passion with every fiber of his body and his soul. He also wants to have a family and a wife. Danny loves to give his people what they long for. He wants to make them happy and to satisfy every need. But Rachel's love for Danny has been ground down to zero in the cruel grindstone of daily life being the wife of a detective.

Let's go back to this key scene in 1.24.

Stan is away abroad for a business trip. Rachel is unhappy with Stan and after the incident with the Sarin Danny ends up in the hospital and somehow their love sparks up anew. Danny has never got over the fact that another man could steal his wife away from him. Danny wants her back and even though he knows that Rachel is married, he sleeps with her.

This is an egoistic move from him and also a primitive way to show off his masculinity and the need to measure his stamina with Stan. This wasn't all about Rachel, this was more about who's cock is bigger and who's the better Alpha to get back the female mate. Danny won. He was happy about that. Rachel was ready to get back together, despite what they have gone through. She has hope again. And Danny uses this for his own way to get her back. He talked a lot about how terrible they are at communicating. There was a time where Danny didn’t like Rachel AT ALL.

Danny does the first thing his testosterones longs for. He gets Rachel pregnant. He breeds her. I know, this sounds very harsh, but that's Danny too. He needs to mark his territory. I guess that's the same way Grace was conceived. They had hope, they wanted to try again after maybe a huge fight when they were in Jersey and still a couple.

Danny promises Rachel he wants to be together with her. He was even astonished when she told him that she was pregnant again. If Danny didn't want another child, he could have used a condom for crying out loud. He didn't.

Okay, they agreed to move back to Jersey although Danny was involved in a case and he knew Steve needed him and he was a member of Five-0.

And there's the other thing I don't like about how Danny handles a difficult private situation. He doesn't talk and he doesn't inform.

If he had left with Rachel, how would he want to inform Steve? Chin? Kono? He had planned to leave that very evening. The flights were booked. Would he just have told Steve over a lousy phone call? Abandon this ohana with a wave to say goodbye?

And he promised Rachel and Grace that he would be there, that he would meet them at the airport. Rachel carried his unborn love-child and Danny knew what he was running into – again! He sent them off to the airport and Rachel waited, again, for Danny to fulfill his promise.

And this is still something I can't really overcome: Danny stood his family up. He broke a very important promise and right there and then Danny turned into a super mean and super huge asshole. NO ONE DOES THAT WHO ALWAYS EMPHASIZES HOW IMPORTANT FAMILY IS.

Danny abused Rachel's trust.

Danny abused Grace's trust.

Danny abused his unborn child's trust.

Danny didn't call to tell why he couldn't make it.

 Danny didn't call at all.

 He didn't call Steve to say that he's going to be a father and that he has planned to leave Hawaii for good – like right this fucking evening.

And that's a way Danny must have treated Rachel always back in Jersey. He promised a lot of things that he couldn't keep. He missed birthdays, anniversaries, important meetings, family gatherings, Graces first school day – whatever. Danny has done that, he broke promises and he just did it again.

Rachel is fed up with his way to treat his family and his children. She boards the plain alone and right there she makes a decision. She can't go through such insecurity again. She leaves Danny the moment she gets on that plane.

Danny shows further into the show that he doesn't involve Steve in very important decisions. He just plans something in his head and someday he tells it and acts on it (retirement). On the other hand, he gets very furious if someone does this with him too – the letter Steve wrote to tell him he's on a secret mission and Danny's in charge now.

I assume that Danny wants to do right by everyone and keeps quiet as long as possible only to upset both parties who are involved. Danny is afraid to disappoint his people only to end up in a disaster because he doesn't have the courage to just tell what's on his mind.

And then there's the fact that he loves his job so much, that whatever he does, his job comes first. Always. Rachel had to experience in a very tough and hurtful way that Danny is not reliable. He says things he can't keep (always referring to this key scene) but I'm sure she has hoped now with the second child on the way, Danny might have changed.

Danny hasn't.

And I'm sure Rachel also was afraid that she has to raise her second child alone because if Danny doesn't show commitment now, he never will. And I guess that's why she chose to tell him, that Charlie wasn't Danny's child. And I can understand Rachel. I really do.

And I guess Danny abandoned Grace and Rachel back in Jersey, too. There were always more pressing matters to deal with. There was always a case to be handled. Rachel had to rise Grace most of the time alone. And right here, the fact that Danny didn't fucking care to be there for his children shows why Rachel moved to Hawaii.

Danny's fucking asshole move to not show up as he has damn promised shows that he's not interested in his kids! Yes, that's my translation and I'm sure that's also Rachel's translation.

And maybe that happened back in Jersey. So Rachel takes Grace far away because Danny was never, or rarely around to be with Grace. That's a fucking wake up call for Danny! He has to move too if he wants to see his daughter who always came second because first there was always his job.

Because if Rachel was ready to get back together with Danny, after all, they have been through, is because she still loves him so fucking much that she's willing to try again. And what is Danny doing? He slaps her face and spits on her trust. That's how it has happened.

Danny knew now he has to pull his head out of his ass and get moving to not miss the growing up of his daughter. That's why he moved to Hawaii and he becomes a very dedicated father. Danny messed up big time. He has to try better. And that’s when we meet him on the show. As a dedicated father.

And then there's also McDanno.

Because Danny is always ready to follow Steve wherever he goes.

There's a Tsunami threatening to hit the beach. Grace gets handed over to Kamekona so Danny can be with Steve, till the bitter end if he has to.

Danny signs up to rescue Steve from North Korea with the chance to never get back and to see his daughter again. He does it for Steve.

Danny is always ready to risk his life for Steve. He always worries about Steve. Steve. Danny's world is only whole when there's Steve.

And that's Mcdanno.

Danny doesn't say 'I love you' to his women. He does say it to Steve.

After Rachel there is Gaby. With her, he experiences what it means to be together with someone who is dedicated to his job. He doesn't like it. It didn't work.

Melissa is kind, nice and Danny likes her. But he can't say 'I love you' and he can't really get involved.

But of course, he's lonely and he wishes to have someone by his side.

In the meantime, he risks his life for Steve time and again.

Steve is the center of his life, even if he always tells everyone it's Grace. No, it's not, because when there's a threat he gets Grace safe and dives into danger with Steve.

Danny is deep, deep hidden in the closet. He's gay for Steve, or his gay but with no chance to come out. So, he lives a life of all the gay men who are buried under tons of guilt, shutting down their needs and living on with the repression of their true nature. They try to be a husband and a good father. Coming out is no option.

And now Grace and Charlie are bigger, growing older and Danny has calmed down. He gets older too and Rachel is still around. They still love each other. They know each other for years and Danny is lonely. They grew closer over their worries when Grace had her accident. They are parents and they are bonded. It's convenient to be together and there's still this feeling that connects them.

Danny loves Steve but he has no chance to be with him. He chooses the second best. He chooses the mother of his children because she's again divorced and alone, too. Why not try and maybe to be good friends? Maybe more.

But to end this and to make a full circle. Danny hasn't been a good husband to Rachel, not always. And he hurt her many times and Rachel has learned to deal with the pain and the betrayal. And the end they hurt each other, but somehow, they made peace.

And that's at least something.

And that's where they are now.

 Thank you very much for reading. I hope this all made some sense.

#meta #danny and rachel #h50 #danny and rachel meta #personal opinion #cowandcalf writes #mcdanno #trying to get to the bottom of things

[bloodyfangedtiger]

Found You

It was never supposed to be like this, not on some abandoned ship with some creature lurking in the shadows out for blood. In a quadrant that he and this ship are not supposed to be in.

He's supposed to be home or the closest thing the ship is to home. He's supposed to be on the USG Rosario in his quarters or in the clinic having this pup, finally telling his commander of their existence and telling him he's sorry.

He covered his mouth as another contraction wracked through his body. He stumbled through the metal plated hallway with various wires and beams sticking out and obstructing his path in some places, keeping his footsteps quiet and trying not to make a sound.

He passes a mirror on his way to well anywhere safe where he can deliver his hybrid, he stops to gaze at his reflection. His vibrant blue eyes tired and bloodshot with dark bags underneath from his time here surviving on the ship. His silver hair still messy with bed head from when he fell asleep at his desk weeks ago. He lets his eyes travel down to his stomach, turning to the side to see if there is any change from when he was first impregnated. If you didn't know what you were looking for you might have missed it, but after his watching his body for nearly two years now, he's noticed the slight bump on his lower waist. Watched it move from time to time when they stretched their limbs or would kick him to demand attention.

He cups the bump, brushing his thumb over the cloth and smiling when he feels a hand press back to his touch.

He thanks god that he was able to think fast when he was still training and made his suit out of nano fabric to take more damage and dish out even more than enough to prove a point. Otherwise, he doesn't think either of them would be alive now.

He hears a roar in the distance and instantly drops his dreams to keep moving. Just a little farther, they can make it just a little more.

Meanwhile*

A creature reaching the height of at least eight feet with long pointed ears that rotate from being at the top of his head to hanging flat on the sides (look up dark elf from World Of Warcraft) with glowing yellow eyes and sharp canine like teeth ground said teeth in agitation as his purple skin the shade of a dark plum rippled with the same feeling.

"Have you found him yet?!" The creature growled, its voice deep and booming as it filled the room. Its body looking to be male and very furious. "Have you found my mate?! Have you found Benjamin?!"

Creatures of similar appearance flinched at this voice, the voice full of command and pain.

"Commander, we've managed to find your interpreter. His heart rate has spiked and his hormone levels..."

"Kabuto!" One of the creatures, a female looking type with a height of six feet and a skin tone of a light pink with lavender eyes approached the towering man. "I need to talk to you."

She led the man away into the hallway near the room. She broke down and dropped to her knees, her tiny hands covering her eyes. "I'm so sorry! He made me promise not to tell! He was so scared to tell you!" She sobbed into her hands.

The one known as Kabuto placed his large hand upon her delicate shoulder "Lillian, what did Ben make you promise not to tell?" He asked her gently, his throat rumbling in a comforting purr.

Lillian hiccupped between sobs "Two weeks ago...he came to the clinic. He reported feeling weak and that he felt unusual movement in abdominals." She took a deep breath before looking up at her commander "I found a pup, a pup outside of its egg within him. A hybrid of human and Valtry! He did not want me to tell you that he was carrying your child! Please don't think ill of him, Kabuto!"

The commander froze as the words sunk in, he stood startlingly fast and stalked out of the room "I must find him! I must find my mate!"

†††

The one now known as Ben bit into a rag as he laid down on a cot in the medical bay of this abandoned ship with his child pressing against his body, begging to be free. You've been through worse, childbirth is a breeze compared to the other shit I've done.

He took a deep breath and pressed the control panel on his chest to deactivate the nanites, leaving him in a wife beater and black briefs which are now soaked through. He shimmied out of the briefs and can feel his little one wriggling around, pressing against his entrance insistently. Demanding to be born at this instance.

Ben chuckled and laid down calmly on his back, legs spread to accomodate the newborn then pressing down when he feels another contraction. Biting hard into the rag covered screwdriver to cover his screams while he mentally counts how long he should push.

1, 2, 3 stop.

He took in a quick inhale and then reached down, he could feel the head and tiny ears. If he times it right and uses all his strength, he should be able to push them out with one big push.

Ben fixed his grip on the screwdriver, then laid on his side to bring his legs up to his chest and wrap his arms around them tightly. With one enormous amount of tremendous effort and determination he gave it his all in one last push that forced his young from his body and onto the sheets of the cot.

He uncurled himself from his position and pawed around in the dark for his child.

There was a hiccup he heard and felt under his palm before he heard the squeaking cry of his child. "Shh shh, I'm here I'm here." He crooned gently before bringing the child close to him and guide it to his breast to drink.

"Whoa, never knew it would feel like this." Ben chuckled and cradled his baby close to him.

"Benjamin!" He heard his name being called before the door was wrenched open by force and light streamed in from outside from a flashlight on his commander's armor.

The human looked up at the Valtry while he held their offspring and only smiled. "Hey, Kabuto meet your kid. I was going to tell you-" he didn't get to finish his sentence because the large alien wrapped its arms around him. "I understand why you were scared, Rivuska (beloved) but you can tell me anything. I chose you and only you regardless of being an interpreter, a bodyguard or a human man. I gave you my mark for you are Benjamin Krites and are my Sciosana (mate, promised one, one and only)."

That night or day, the two slept in the commander's chambers with their daughter Elise Riva Krites_Vesk sleeping between them. A hybrid with green eyes like the ones Ben had before his transformation along with brown hair and light lavender skin. Though her eyes and hair are human like, the rest of her is all Valtry.

Pointy ears that rotate from the back to the front, strong arms and legs, small nubs along her spine and arms where horns will eventually grow.

Kabuto held his daughter and mate close, kissing the top of Ben's head and murmuring with a small sob "I'm glad that I found you, Rivuska."

#my ocs #mpreg #happy ending #alien pregnancy

[thedazedyouth]

FAHC / Achievement Haunter crossover

(Lmao sorry this took forever and it’s so shit but here you go fam)

“C’mon dude, what’s the problem? Are you scared?”

Michael’s smirk baited Gavin closer and despite his better judgement, Gavin wasn’t going to let Michael have this to hold over him.

Gavin lifted his head a little higher. “I don’t get scared,” he confidently claimed. “Let’s go.”

Michael laughed at him, seeing straight through Gavin’s faked courage but instead of pointing it out, he decided he’d see how far he could push Gavin.

“Great,” Michael said. “But don’t worry, we won’t be in there for that long; just need to get out of the open until Geoff gives us the all clear.”

How long can that take? Gavin thought.

The pair made their way towards the ancient cathedral they stumbled upon, they both eyed the tip of the great spire that pointed towards the heavens. Although Michael’s eyes were full of awe and intent, Gavin’s were wide and fearful. It wasn’t the cathedral itself, it was beautiful and if it had been any other time, Gavin would have loved to explored it. But there was something wrong with it. There was something inside it, a gut feeling Gavin had; something that didn’t belong in the holy building.

If Michael felt anything at all, he didn’t seem to care. His smile was wide as he ran up the worn down, stone steps leading up to the forgotten house of worship; Gavin trailing closely behind.

They had reached a pair of large, wooden doors that hid away the temple. Gavin began doubting if they should enter; would it be disrespectful for two non-believers to enter God’s house.

Without looking at him, Michael voiced a questioned. “Are you sure you want to go in? I mean, you can always stay out here while I make sure it’s safe and all that.”

Gavin noted the challenge, and gave in to it. “No. I’m going in with you. How bad can it be?”

Michael raised an eyebrow, and stepped forward to roughly pull the slightly rotting door open. “After you,” he said, gesturing for Gavin to enter. Michael even bowed slightly to put on more of a show.

“What a gentleman.” Gavin nodded to Michael as he passed over the threshold. He immediately noticed the sudden change of temperature, and the undeniable feeling of someone watching him from the shadows of the building.

Michael shoved Gavin forward a bit, keeping him moving. They walked side by side up the nave, between the aisles of dark oak benches. Michael moved into an aisle, in the back of one of the benches there was still a dusty, brown bible hidden away.

“Whatcha think happened here?” Michael asked as he inspected the bible, flipping it open and skimming through the pages.

Gavin had stayed in the middle of the nave, slowly spinning around to inspect every piece of the aging cathedral. He stopped to face Michael, a series of glass stained windows were posted behind Gavin as he did so. They were lit up from the growing light of the street lamps from either side of them. They gave Gavin the appearance of a heavenly glow as he looked into the shadows at Michael. The windows depicted various famous scenes from the bible.  

“What makes you think anything happened?” Gavin responded.

Michael huffed. “Have you seen this place? No one’s been here for at least a year.” He blew the dust from the bible he held into Gavin’s face for emphasis.

Gavin muttered, “Prick,” but before he could react anymore, something shiny caught the corner of his eye.

He turned his head to face an alter, it was situated at the furthest end away from the narthex, where they had entered.

The altar was simple from afar, but as Gavin neared it he began to notice the intricate and complex details on what looked like a gold rimmed chest. He knelt before it, one hand resting on the thin slab of stone on top the chest while the other traced over each of the elements and bits of history crafted and compressed, all made from gold.

He sat there for too many uncomfortable moments for Michael to handle.

“Hey, c’mon. Let’s explore the rest of this place,” he said, breaking Gavin from his trance.

“Uh- yeah, sure. How big could this place be?”

Gavin hesitated but pulled himself away from the altar, catching up to Michael as he strolled past Gavin and began exploring the area behind the shrine. There was a single maple door positioned directly behind the altar, Michael only noticing it after the silver handle sparkled for a moment.

Michael eased it open, a breath of stale air rushed forward to meet him; only proving his point that the cathedral had been abandoned. Cobwebs rimmed the corner of the threshold, the thin, white silk webbing was a stark contrast to the beckoning darkness beyond them. The first steps of a hidden staircase were revealed by the sudden, new light.

Michael reached into his pocket and turned on his phone’s flashlight. He looked back at Gavin with an expression that could only be interpreted as “Fuck it.”

Gavin and Michael carefully made their way down the tight, winding staircase. The darkness had barely been able to swallow them before the maple door behind them swung shut with a loud thud.

Gavin squawked, and jumped towards Michael by instinct. Michael had almost already began laughing his ass off at the easily frightened Gavin; but the full weight of him and Michael’s unprepared footing sent the pair tumbling down the flight of stone stairs until they rolled to a stop on a concrete floor.

Michael muttered a string of curse words under his breath as he picked himself back up. Noticing the lack of injuries he had, he ignored the feeling of Gavin’s body next to him and headed towards a light in the darkness he presumed was his phone.

He reached down and picked it up, the screen light revealing the series of cracks that covered the screen.

“If you’re still alive,” Michael said into the nothingness, “you’re buying me a new phone.”

Gavin moaned in return. He stood slowly, bracing onto the nearest wall for support. He winced as Michael shone the flashlight into his eyes, scanning over his body, checking for any wounds. When he couldn’t spot any, Michael snapped.

“What the fuck was that, you dumbass?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Gavin said. “The door closed by itself.”

“Yeah, but it was you who got scared and pushed us.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird the door closed?”

Michael scoffed. “It was the wind, stupid. This place is old as fuck, there’s gotta be a broken window or we just left the front door open.”

Michael ignored Gavin’s next attempts to defend himself. Michael turned his flashphone to investigate the room they had fallen into. There wasn’t much to it, mostly just bare concrete walls covered in dust and spiders, except for another wooden door; this one being in better condition than the last.

Without consulting the other, Michael marched over to it, yanked it open and strolled into the new room. This one was larger, but only slightly fuller than the last. Against the right wall were a couple crates, sealed tightly and appeared to have been there for a while. Michael inspected them, waving off the dust and peering down to read faded text inscribed all over them.

“What the fuck,” Michael whispered as he read the words. They appeared to be in some foreign language that prefered symbols over letters, still he knew it was no commonly spoken language.

Despite his inability to read the non alphabetic language, he tried to repeat the words written on one of the crates. He was sure he was making up sounds and just being offensive to whoever’s language it was; but when a short scream for his name resonated directly after he spoke, Michael thought the two were related.

He rushed into the other room, where Gavin had stayed behind in. The Brit had pulled out his own flashlight, facing it towards the staircase they had entered from and was scanning it frantically back and forth.

“Gavin? You okay?” Michael asked.

Gavin whipped around as the sound of Michael’s voice. “Did you hear that?” he returned. “Please tell me you heard that.”

“What are y-”

Before Michael could finish his sentence, Gavin shused him. Gavin glanced up around the room, clearly waiting for something. Just as Michael was about to question Gavin again, he heard it.

A scream tore through the room, ricocheting off the walls and pierced through their brains.

Michael’s blood had turned cold and every hair on his body raised. Adrenaline coursed through him, every muscle in him tensed and froze in place. His heart was racing and the only thing he could do was gape at Gavin.

“What the fuck was that?” Michael managed to ask. “Where’d it come from?”

“In here,” Gavin replied. “Only from here.”

“How? There’s- there’s no one else here.” Michael scanned the room again, just to be sure.

Gavin and Michael stared at each other, slowly gravitating towards the other for safety and comfort. Their instincts telling them to pull their guns out, but they knew there was nothing to shoot.

Another forceful scream haunted the room, this one causing both men to cover their ears in pain. It lasted for minutes, or maybe only seconds; but when it left only an echo in the room, they looked at each other and in a split second they were running.

Michael pushed past Gavin to scurry back up the staircase they previously fell down. They were both trying to claw at the walls to drag them upwards. They squeezed through the door at the top of the stairway.                                                                                                                      Michael and Gavin were panting by the time they entered the ambulatory, the silence of the cathedral had taken over again.

The candles that were placed before and around the altar were ablaze with a flame that was too powerful for the mere wax sticks. They glowed onto the golden artwork of the altar, reflecting their own faces back onto them. Gavin looked at himself as he back away from the maple door.

A pair of black eyes stared back at him.

Gavin stumbled over himself, trying to ignore the image he just saw as they retreated away slowly through the nave, retracing their previous, more excited steps. As they edged past the aisles, the blasting sound of glass shattering rippled through the air. The stained glass above them broke, and rained shards down on them.

That was enough to send them sprinting back down the nave, into the narthex and shoving each other out the front.

Michael and Gavin spewed through the wooden doors and onto the street. They stood in the middle of the road as they stared and almost waited for the cathedral to move again. But as they watched, someone broke the silence.

“Try them again. They might’ve gotten back in range.” Jack’s voice entered through their comms.

Geoff sighed. “Fine. Michael? Gavin? Can you hear me, you dumbasses?”

“Yes! Geoff, we’re here, we can hear you,” Gavin spouted. “Where are you? Is everything clear now?”

Geoff sighed again, this time from relief. “Where the fuck are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour, Ryan and Jeremy are out searching for you shits.”

“Hour?” Michael asked. “Are you sure? We were only gone for like ten to twenty minutes.”

“No, I know how long you’ve been gone. Just - just get back to the penthouse and we’ll talk more.”

Michael and Gavin found their way back to the apartment, Ryan and Jeremy meeting them there and demanded answers. The first pair waited until they had entered the penthouse, where Jack and Geoff were waiting for them, until they explained their whereabouts. Although it was mostly Gavin who spoke about that last twenty minutes for him and Michael.

Geoff merely nodded through Gavin’s retelling, waiting patiently for him to stop. When Gavin finally caught them all up, Geoff looked over to Michael for confirmation of the story. Michael didn’t reveal any emotion as he shrugged.

“I guess that settles it,” Geoff said. “Good job today, crew. Uh- Gavin, nice to see you can keep an imagination these days.”

The crew disbanded to do their own thing around the penthouse, leaving Gavin and Michael alone in the lounge.

“Why didn’t you back me up? They all think I’m fucking crazy,” Gavin demanded.

“Because,” Michael explained, “neither of us know what the fuck happened in there. No one’s gonna believe us, no matter what. So, just forget about it. Forget about everything. It’ll be better if we pretend it never happened.”

Michael left without another word.

The next day, Jeremy and Gavin were on their way to a quick job for Geoff, when Gavin urged Jeremy to take what he claimed was a short cut. Gavin easily spotted the tall cathedral spire from the distance and told Jeremy to slow down.

As Jeremy pulled up to the cathedral, Gavin whispered a short, “What?”

He remembered specifically how the bright, colourful stained windows had shattered into the cathedral; but the light of the midday sun was shining onto the exact replicas of the ones there the day before. The front wooden door had been placed neatly back onto its hinges, like Michael and Gavin had never been there.

Gavin turned to Jeremy. “I swear it wasn’t like that yesterday.”

Jeremy just nodded. “It’s okay, buddy. I believe you,” he said, half heartedly. “Do you wanna go in? Just to check it out?”

Gavin shook his head. “Whatever’s in there doesn’t want people in it.”

“Okay. Then we should get going and finish this job.”

And with that Jeremy drove off again, leaving Gavin to look through the side mirror at the shrinking cathedral. He knew he wasn’t crazy, Michael had been there but Michael would never admit what happened; so Gavin had to be content with keeping the experience to himself.  

#fahc #fake achievement hunter crew #achievement haunter #achievement hunter #gavin free #michael jones

[margridarnauds]

2, 8, 9, 20, 30, 31, 32, 40, 51 (for the abominaton)

Thanks!

2. Favorite part of writing.

I love the feeling that comes with putting the thoughts that I’ve been visualizing in my mind on the page, I love getting to work with characters that I love dearly and putting them where normal circumstances wouldn’t, I love dealing with a wide cast of characters that help me learn more about myself.

8. Favorite trope to write.

In general, I like to write emotionally constipated characters dealing with their gay emotions for the first time. Also, I tend to work with straight-up fix-its or dealing with post-canon events (and, when I say “post canon” I mean “post my very, very specific version of canon).

9. Least favorite trope to write.

This is probably surprising, but I tend to not be fond of actually writing depressing endings. Like, even in the universes where I kill characters off, I like to at least give them some closure, even if it’s an afterlife AU. (Which…the Afterlife AU for Pour la Peine is going to be fun if I ever get around to it).

Also, I don’t like Modern AUs all that much, even though I have numerous ones for 1789. It’s probably mostly a matter of translating 18th century politics to the modern age. That and I hate writing anything set in the modern age on principle.

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

Tw: References to animal abuse, bullying, and Lazare being a 13 year old with slightly homicidal tendencies (BUT HE’S STILL VALID)

Lazare didn’t know how he got involved. One moment he was gritting his teeth in anger at them, his rage reaching a boiling point after one of the punches caused Ronan to cry out, the next one of the bullies was on the ground crying, Ronan was putting another one on the ground nearby him, and he had his hand wrapped around  Denis’ throat, feeling his fingernails tighten around skin that had never been bruised before. All those military exercises his grandfather had made him run had their uses, he thought, as a strange thrill ran through him. Thibault Denis couldn’t do anything now, couldn’t hurt anyone; he was completely under his control. No matter how much he tried, flailed, choked, the little pretend tyrant was weak. So this was what authority meant. All that time when his grandfather had tried to explain it to him, and he’d never fully understood it.

“Lazare!” He was vaguely aware of Ronan shouting, and that was enough for him to release his grip. The boy fell to the ground, looking at him like he was Death incarnate, all widened eyes and quick breathing before he ran as fast as he could, his legs barely supporting him. The others followed suit, and it was just him, Ronan, and the cat. He flexed his hands, remembering the touch, looking at Ronan, wondering how he would look at him now that Lazare had hurt one of his own, but if he’d seen anything unusual, he hadn’t noticed, lavishing attention to the cat instead.

“Why would someone do something like that, huh? It’s just a cat, it wasn’t harming anybody.” Ronan held the wretched thing in his arms, petting it, with its torn ear and matted, faded fur and bony spine. “It probably just wanted to make friends.”

“The world can be cruel.” It had been the first thing he’d been told, when he was left on the steps of the Chateau de Peyrol and greeted by a stern, sharp man who introduced himself as his grandfather, and it had been something that he’d made sure he’d remember. The world had been cruel since time began, it would remain cruel. All that was important was ensuring that he himself did the best he could in the role he was given and to support the Crown in its efforts to keep order amidst the destructive forces that would bathe the world in fire otherwise.

Ronan shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be.” He held the cat a little closer, letting it burrow its face into his chest weakly, its pink tongue flicking over his fingers slowly. “It doesn’t have to be.”

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

There was a sadness in du Puget’s eyes, and Peyrol felt like he was a schoolboy again, missing some obvious point that he had just explained to him in vivid detail. Only instead of the immediate reprisals, he got this. A beating he could deal with, scorn he could deal with, pity he could not. “We are all human beings, Monsieur de Peyrol. We are all human beings with a child’s longing for the companionship and love of our fellow man. If you cannot do that basic amount for him, then you will never deserve his trust or his love, no matter how many livres you pour into it.” 

31. Hardest character to write.

In general, any of the kid characters. I HATE writing children in general, and in the first part of the Abomination in particular SO MUCH rests on selling the kid versions of Ronan and Lazare and their relationship because literally the rest of this universe depends on them. I consider having to type “How do children make friends” and “What do children do with friends” to be on par with me trying to think about how long it’d take me to bang the man who (hypothetically) killed my father as far as Signature Abomination Moments.

For the non-historical characters of 1789, I’ve talked repeatedly how hard Solene is to write because of how little we get on her and how downright contradictory a lot of it is (see: her talking about how ambition and bloodlust have blinded Ronan…while she and the girls lynch a baker and march to Versailles. You go girl?) And you want to do a solid job with her, especially since her storyline touches on subjects that are STILL pretty damn sensitive, but you also don’t want to accidentally put her into any of the contemporary stereotypes of The Fallen Woman, The Victim, The Fury, etc, or any of our modern stereotypes when it comes to what a sex worker should look like and behave. That and trying to develop her relationship with Olympe is going to be slightly harder than usual, given that I still…need to figure out how they’re going to meet. With Pour la Peine, it was easier, since they had an easy way to meet up (Ronan’s funeral, RIP bro), but here, this is taking place in the canon era.

On a larger level, writing ANY of the historical figures that we have a decent amount of documentation for is hard, since these are people who are still highly controversial to this day and who can kind of….shift between different sources. Not necessarily the ones they wrote themselves, but, like, if you ask ten different people about Robespierre, you’ll get ten different responses. You’ll think you’ve caught onto him, and then he slips away. Likewise for Antoinette or Fersen or De Launay. Even Papa du Puget is rather hard for me to grasp, not the least because I know that the sources I need are locked behind an archive in France, untranslated and mostly obscure. (Funnily enough, the easiest for me to grasp is the Marquis de Sade, because the man’s just a dick. I will proudly proclaim the man’s a dick. He deserved to spend the rest of his life rotting away and I consider it an eternal tragedy that far better men than him in every way died during the course of the Frev while he managed, despite himself, to survive.) With some characters, like Danton and Desmoulins, I sense that my interpretation of them is going to be much different than the normal interpretation of them.

Basically, there’s a lot of pressure with them that isn’t necessarily there with the canon OCs, I don’t have as much freedom, and it can be damn hard to put them into a given situation to see how they’d react. (Incidentally, I’m going to put a tentative guess that they won’t react well to L/R. Just a guess. Though I’m sure Lazare can win them over with his A+ social skills, charm, and tact.) 

32. Easiest character to write.

Laz and I get along very well at this point, even as I torture him.

40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?

Fanfiction, actually.

With original fiction, there’s a lot of pressure when it comes to constructing the world you’re working with and the characters and how they interact with it. And, believe me, it’s a lot of fun, but it’s also damned hard to visualize it. Like, I fucking specialize in Early Irish Lit, and yet my retelling of CMT is hard to write 90% of the time because I have a hard time working with this world and how it works (which…given that the rules themselves weren’t concrete in the original lit, I don’t feel all that bad, but still). To tell you the truth, even after looking at tons of pictures of longhouses and hillforts and costumes from the Book of Kells, I still can’t get a decent idea for this stuff. It’s even harder for the main WIP, where I have to do a lot more construction, working with inspirations from multiple time periods, and it’s a real mess because I’ve never entirely gotten those inspirations under control and the characters keep shifting out from under me.

With fanfic, on the other hand, you have characters, you have a setting, and you have a decent idea with how the world works. Now, you can always do what I do and completely throw canon out anyway, BUT you still have some basics. No matter what, I have some baseline for the characters and some baseline for how the world works and I can build my research off of that.

51. Describe the aesthetic of your story _______ in 5 sentences or words.

Doing this for the first part because it’d be literally impossible to do it otherwise.

A gloved hand on a black walking stick, a slightly bent, silver wolf’s head gleaming from the top.

A sea of golden wheat over flat land as far as the eye can see, a sharp blue sky hanging over it.

An old, faded book with a decrepit spine.

A blue parrot locked in a gilded cage.

Two boys against a tree on a slightly chilly summer night, looking at the stars, unaware of what they hold for them.

[writinanon]

Collision

The Continuing Story of Deputy Rook and Sheriff Jake.

  Jake looked over at Rook as she was shooting pool with Nick. Sharky and Hurk had done it again only this time they summoned Rook alone, or rather Joseph and Rook. Both looked beat to hell and Rook revealed that Nuclear bombs had fallen in her world after she managed to defeat each of the Seeds. Joseph stuck to her side like a bur. It was a shame that Jake couldn’t arrest him for crimes committed in an alternate universe. Rook mourned the loss of her friends, of her enemies, and tried to put on a brave face for most of it. Jake figured that Joseph clung because she was all he had left of his world. Since no bombs fell Jake managed to arrest and get the leaders of The Garden of Eden sentenced to prison, in different maximum-security prisons. Jake’s eyes moved over to Joseph, sitting in a booth with water, watching Rook’s every move.

 “Hey Rook are you gonna join the sheriff’s office here?” Mary May asked and Rook looked over. They hadn’t told anyone that she’d already applied and he took her in a heartbeat. Jake lost three of his deputies to the Cult and Rook was more than qualified. Hell, if he could he’d co-sheriff with her. She’d more than earned it.

 “Well actually I joined up already. I start back next week.”

 “We’re still sorting the paperwork of the arrests. It won’t be official until next week.” Jake said. Whatever spell they’d used was permanent this time. Joseph was somber and silent, never straying too far from Rook so Jake had no idea what was going to happen when she went to work but he was prepared to force the other man to stop.

  Rook looked good in her deputy uniform. Her hair was pulled back in a bun and she was early, coffee in hand.

 “Where’s your preaching shadow?”

 “Joseph is working on a book.” She said carefully and sat at her desk.

 “I know there isn’t much we can do here but do you honestly think letting him roam free is a good idea?” Jake really didn’t want to deal with another Cult, especially one that would be led by someone that looked like his little brother. Joe was avoiding Joseph like the plague. They both had such similar interests but went about showing them in wildly different ways.

“He doesn’t have the means or the will to start a new Cult. For now. If he does try we’ll figure it out. We can put things in place to prevent him from taking up Shiloh’s stragglers.” The remaining stragglers that had slipped through the noose of the resistance and then the reinstatement of actual law enforcement.

 “Like what?”

 “Well threatening my life will probably work for a little bit until we can come up with something more concrete.” She offered with a shrug and looked down at her hands.

 “I’m not going to threaten to kill you just to keep the crazy man in line.” There was a concerned piece of Jake that wondered if Rook wanted to die, her friends and family were dead the people she fought tooth and nail to save were dead and all she had to show for it was the same man that would have seen her brainwashed and turned into a cultist.

 “It’s just… Joseph doesn’t have the network here that he did previously. Before he had Jacob’s strength and when he couldn’t smooth things over with words he had John’s malicious charisma and Faith’s drugs. Plus… Everyone is gone.” She looked at her hands. She would do that sometimes, just stare at her hands.

 “Rook you’re not a murderer for protecting your life.” Jake knew that look. It was the same look all soldiers got when they felt bad for killing someone that would have killed them and others.

 “We should talk about something else.” She mused bitterly, she would forever think herself a murder and Jake couldn’t fault her for it, he felt that way too.

 “Okay so the Testy Fest is coming up.” She burst into laughter and he smiled. He couldn’t give her absolution but he could try to prove to her that her sins didn’t matter.

 “Oh those poor bulls.” She muttered and gave him a shaky smile. They hadn’t actually come to an agreement on the matter but for now they’d let it ride and see how things turned out.

  Joseph watched Rook walk into the house, Deputies worked long hours. She pulled her hair out of the bun it was held in and blinked seeing him sitting in the living room.

 “What do you want for dinner?” She asked as she stepped out of her shoes. They’d been stuck in that Bunker for a month and a half before being released. In the bunker it had been his reading and her utter silence until he slipped and had a moment of anger. She took everything from him while he tried to save her wretched soul. He tried his damnedest to make her worthy of walking through Eden’s Gates. When he expressed this to her she barked a sharp laugh at him and tore into him with words. How he might have been right about the end of the world but forcing people to conform or die was wrong. It hurt people. It destroyed people. It was only the Lord Above that could judge and grant clemency or condemnation. Listening to her repeat chapter and verse to him, justifying her own rejection and resistance and destruction of all he held dear was maddening in so many ways.

  It had been the first time that he kissed her in a moment of passion. She hadn’t returned it, but then he hadn’t given her the chance to recover from her shock either. She wasn’t completely silent after that but tended to keep a distance from him and when he tried to provoke her into discussion of psalms and verses she would narrow her eyes at him and shake her head. Once he had been assured that she wouldn’t kill him, or herself, he had released her from the cuffs. When they arrived in the middle of the church, the church that they had fought in, with the pair of fools that wanted fire and destruction, sought it out for fun Joseph wondered if the Lord was taking pity on them, or if he was punishing them. Rook now surrounded by those that she loved and cared for, those she had sacrificed for, but they knew nothing of this, knew nothing of her but that she wore the same face as a woman that would have brought them to Salvation. Joseph now with his Family and those that wore the faces of his lost Family, but they weren’t actually His Family. All they truly had, even now surrounded by others, was each other. He knew that the Sheriff was talking of arresting him or putting him in an asylum, but Joseph would take Rook if that happened. He had already planned for this, he remembered Faith’s notes well and could distill enough Bliss to incapacitate the Deputy and keep her pliant while he tried to locate them a new home. But another day had passed and he was free. Another day had passed and Joseph remained within the Deputy’s home and not that sinner Jake.

 “I made sandwiches because you didn’t tell me when you would be home.” Sometimes she arrived on time, but occasionally she wouldn’t come home until very late. He always stayed awake until she returned to him. And she did always return to him. In their world and here.

 “Oh.” She blinked, taken off guard, and stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Thanks.”

  Rook was slowly adjusting, it took some getting used to but she was slowly assuring the people that remembered her as a crazy woman that she wasn’t the same. Her life was weird and had only become weirder with this twist but she was trying to find joy in it. She was currently sitting in the rebuilt church that Pastor Jerome called perish.

 “Was there something you needed?” He asked softly. It was a Friday, she honestly should have been at work. But there was only so much paperwork she could file and staring she could handle. So she went ‘on patrol’ something they did periodically now to ensure that the remaining Peg – Geos were captured or were the peaceful ones that wouldn’t do anything but carried on the tenants of the Garden.

 “I just… It’s quiet here. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

 “No, all is well. I just didn’t take you as religious.” He chuckled softly and she ran a hand through her hair.

 “My parents were religious. I’m open to interpretation so long as you don’t try to force it on me or others.” He nodded and hummed in agreement.

 “Would you mind if I sat with you? It’s been a while since I had a moment for myself.” He smiled at her and she motioned to the pew.

 “It’s your church.”

 “It’s God’s church.” He corrected gently. “We are merely patrons visiting his House.” He took the seat beside her but was half an arm’s length away. Rook was grateful for the company, for the understanding. Sometimes it felt like Joseph was the only one that understood her. Sometimes she worried that the fact that three nights out of seven she woke up and fell asleep in his arms. She half expected him to kiss her again and dreaded that. Dreaded that because it had felt nice, for as fierce and domineering as it was, it had felt nice to be kissed with such passion. She’d never been kissed like that before, like she was the only thing that made up the world the good and the bad.

  She looked down at her hands and sometimes she could see the blood caked there. Jerome had yet to see her stick her hands in the holy water to try and cleanse the blood but she had a feeling if she wasn’t careful about it he would and she would have a ticket to a mental hospital. They could give her and Joseph adjoining rooms.

  Getting to enjoy the Testy Fest was fun, as the carnival was winding down music was playing and there was dancing. She had a few to drink and was pleasantly buzzed when Jake walked up at her grinning. He held out his hand.

 “How ‘bout it?” He asked and she laughed before taking his hand. They danced to the upbeat music until Mary May started to play slow songs. Rook bit her lip and looked up into his blue eyes. He placed his hands on her hips and started to sway slowly.

 “This is like a coming of age prom movie.” She muttered as she placed her hands on his shoulders. The lamp light over head caught on the ring he’d given her.

 “You kept it?”

 “Well yeah. I didn’t want to forget.” He smiled brightly and she grinned back at him before resting her head on his shoulder. “Did you mean it?”

 “You’re someone worth trying for.” He promised her. They continued to sway for a while, as songs shifted by and Mary May was dragged down from her position of DJ by Jonathan. Rook smiled at that. Rebecca took over and played a random assortment before she grinned.

 “Here Jake!” And the opening strains of Only You started to play.

  Joseph, who was not glaring at the couple dancing he was merely observing to ensure that the Sheriff didn’t do anything untoward to the Deputy, moved as fast as possible as his brother’s song played and Rook froze completely. She wouldn’t harm the man she was dancing with but anyone else around them would be injured, as much as Joseph would like to see them understand that she was not like them it wouldn’t do to have her be locked away. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her away from the Sheriff. She moved willingly enough.

 “Perhaps we should take our leave? It has been a long day.” Her hand inched toward the knife that was no longer there and then she was looking into his eyes, those feral eyes were calming down. “Take me home.” He commanded and she nodded before escorting him away. Joseph glanced back at the confused people and smiled. Truly they’d never understand his Deputy. She was stronger than they were but now was not a time to show it.

  Jake frowned as he watched them leave. He went and grabbed his coat and hat, getting briefly stopped by Joe.

 “I can’t leave her alone with him. Not when she’s like that.”

 “I understand just… Take this. I made it for her.” Joe handed over a basket of bread and a small package. “She’ll… She’ll understand.” Jake nodded, taking the gifts, and headed after them.

  The Rook household was dark and quiet when he arrived. He knocked on the door and hoped that she would answer but instead it was Joseph. Between them getting home, about ten minutes ahead of him because he got delayed by Rebecca asking what she’d done wrong, he had lost his shirt. Rook was usually able to get him to wear a shirt but around their home he usually went without one.

 “Yes?” He asked in that pleasant tone that Jake had come to understand was his default when he wasn’t pleased at all.

 “Is she alright?” He asked, knowing he would not be invited in.

 “Rook is fine, she merely needed to get away from everyone.”

 “Everyone but you.”

 “Well I do live here too and she did drive me.”

 “Tell her that Rebecca is sorry and give her this.” He handed over the basket and Joseph took it, probably intending to do no such thing until Rook’s voice called out.

 “Jacob? No. Jake.” She smiled faintly. She shooed Joseph away but he only allowed her to stand in the doorway, not actually leaving. He loomed behind her, eyes that misted over and serene look that meant he was plotting something. Jake knew because it was similar to the look Shiloh wore when she was plotting something.

 “Joe baked some of that bread you like and he made you something. He wanted to give it to you but got distracted.” Jake said softly. “Are you okay?”

 “I will be. I didn’t hurt anyone this time.” She smiled but looked tired.

 “Well rest up you’ve got the next todays off.” He waved and headed back to his car. He glanced back and saw her take the basket from Joseph but Joseph was the one to close the door and shut them off from his eyes. He was once again wearing the infuriating smirk. Jake’s hands clenched into fists. He had never thought of hurting his brothers but that expression on Joseph’s face made him want to beat it off him, and not even wearing Joe’s face made the desire vanish. He sat in his car for a long moment, watching the lights of the living room and then the upstairs bedroom flick on. He saw Rook’s for in the window through the sheer curtains and felt something inside him loosen. A text notification pinged on his phone.

 ‘Are you watching me change clothes like a creep?’

 ‘Just making sure you don’t need me to come rescue you.’

 ‘Well I’m fine. Really, I’m locked in my room. I’m going to go to sleep. Tell Joe thanks. Tell him that I’m honored.’ Jake wondered what his little brother had given her other than bread but figured he could interrogate his brother easier than he could his Deputy.

 ‘Goodnight.’

 ‘Night.’

  The rosary held a few more beads than Joseph’s and was made of wooden beads instead of the glossy black ones his had. The cross at the end was small and simple. Rook was touched that Joe had wanted to give this to her.

 “It guided my love through turbulent times. It guided me through darkness. May it guide you to happiness.” His little note said. Joanna’s prayer beads were lovingly cared for. Joe’s devotion to his wife still clear. She almost didn’t want to touch them with her sinner hands. But that was what they were made for, absolving sin. She wrapped them around her right wrist, leaving a little slack for them to move freely if necessary. As she was getting dressed she looked down at the tattoo she had on her chest, dead center and above any collar for a woman’s shirt. John knew how and where to place a mark. She traced her hand below the black lettering that was now beginning to fade a bit, going just slightly blurry at the edges. She pulled on her shirt, seeing the top half of the letters but ignored it. She needed to go grocery shopping and pick up a friend. She needed a guard dog.

#Far Cry 5 AU #Resist Ending #Semi Crossover