#because i did not ask him to stab that guy i found out weeks after the fact

[femmeconomics]

honestly i think part of why i can never believe notallmen feminist ally guys is that i have known a guy who genuinely put his money where his mouth was. when i told him i was assaulted he went and stabbed the guy who did it. no questions asked, even though he’d known the guy for years. what are the rest of y’all doing

#men take notes THIS is what it means to be an ally #i do not think too hard about this normally #because i did not ask him to stab that guy i found out weeks after the fact #if i think too hard about it i experience too many feelings at once #so instead i settle for a surface level 👍 #rose post

[penny00dreadful]

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 

But that was no excuse to cheat. 

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips. 

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well. 

Shit. 

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 

But fuck him. 

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 

He looked so soft. 

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded. 

That he could understand. 

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 

Rick knew fuck all about cars. 

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up. 

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 

He’d failed miserably. 

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #before he cheats fic #anniversary #1 year posting anniversary challenge #pennys anniversary event #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #tw cheating

[sitp-recs]

liv, do you have any idiots to lovers recs? I’m thinking things in the vein of “keep it down” by warmfoothills; where draco and Harry like each other so much but are just so dumb about it! it also works if only one of them is an idiot (usually Harry, my oblivious king!!) huge bonus if they have a big, combined friend group that everyone in it either 1.knows they’re in love with eachother bc duh or 2.already thinks they are dating/fucking

It took me ages to post this but if you’re still around I got you, anon 🫡 That’s also a favorite trope of mine, I adore that warmfoothills fic. Here are some recs for you, I’ve had so much fun putting this list together. I also did a reclist for roommates AU a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

Still Life (2019, M, 3k)

Take A Stab At It by @sorrybutblog (E, 3k)

It’s a bit pathetic, Harry knows, to have a hard-on for the guy who bullied you in school. Kind of cliché to look back on years of obsession and hatred and think, Oh.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k)

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

Tread That Fine Line by disapparater (E, 5k)

Harry could cope with being in love with Draco, it was the needing to get fucked by him that was driving Harry insane.

Mise en Place by @corvuscrowned (T, 5.5k)

Draco needs to learn how to cook, and luckily, Harry knows his way around a kitchen. The fact that Draco is using his newfound cooking skills to impress another man... Well, Harry just tries not to think about that too much.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (E, 5.5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Party of Two by fireflavored (E, 13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) by @punk-rock-yuppie (E, 16k)

At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco. Or, Draco and Harry fall in love over the course of several Fridays and some other days of the week.

solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by @moonflower-rose (M, 29k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions by InnerLilith (E, 39k)

Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyway, when you’ve got a best friend?

Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (M, 61k)

Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #idiots to lovers

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You spend your Sunday afternoon with Carmy, by your side, trying to make sense of the piles of disorganized paperwork. You finally have a chance to ask what happened to his brother, only to regret it after finding out the answer. You start to realize you might be there for more than just financial guidance.

Warnings: Angst, Suicide mentions, Alcohol.

A/n: I'm really excited writing this series. It's been awhile since writing something like this. I hope you guys enjoy it and please let me know what you think! Any feedback would be amazing. If there's any other ideas you have in mind about our Carmy, my requests are open!

Here's chapter one, if haven't read yet.

Enjoy :)

It was a Sunday evening, and after officially a week of being at 'The Original Beef of Chicagoland,' you were no were nowhere closer to telling Carmy the legal or financial status of his restaurant.

It took you half the week to just organize the random letters and scraps of paper laying in boxes. With that, there was still portions missing.

Carmy came through the swinging doors with two plates. He placed your plate on the desk and scooted a chair closer to you. He felt bad about dropping this bomb on you. But even worse now, because you came in every day this week to get on top of this mess.

When he found out that you were coming in today, there was no doubt that he was coming in too, even though the restaurant was closed. He didn't say anything though, knowing you would try and convince him not to come in.

You looked up and gave him a grateful smile picking up the plate of pasta and swapping your pen for a fork.

"Don't go too hard on me. It's whatever I could lay my hand on." He said with his mouth half full.

You rolled my eyes, like you were going to be judging him on his culinary skills right now. Especially, after everything you saw in the previous job.

You stabbed the penne pasta with your fork and shoved it in your mouth, not really caring about the taste. You started to notice how hungry you really were. The taste was the last thing on your mind. Saying that, it was delicious.

You both sat in silence, scoffing down the food as fast as possible. Carmy took the cleared plates from you and worked his way back to the kitchen.

As he rinsed the last bit of suds off the plates, he paused a moment and went over to the mini fridge in the corner of the kitchen. He took out two chilled bottles, thinking that you need something to help you relax after searching through piles of paper all day.

After a few moments, he popped back through the doors with two beers in his hand.

"Thanks." You smiled, taking the cold beer from him.

"I wish we had somethin' stronger than this, but 'aven't found my brother's hidden stash yet." Carmy put the lip of the bottle on the edge of the desk and slammed his hand down on it.

The cap popped off and fell onto the ground and he took a swig of his beer.

"He has one?" You asked, trying the same move as he just did with his bottle.

You slammed your hand onto it but at the wrong angle. Your hand ended up punching the desk and you felt the pain traveling up your arm.

"Fuck" You muttered wincing.

You look over to see Carmy holding back a smile and reached over to take the bottle off of you.

"Very smooth" He broke into a snicker before doing the same maneuver on your bottle with ease.

"Fuck you" You smirked back, snatching the bottle off of him and bringing it to your mouth.

You looked over to see him leaning back on the chair with his legs straight out in front of him. Your feet leaning against his awkwardly in the smallest office in Chicago.

"How's Nick?" He asked, playing with the beer label.

"Uh.. I wouldn't know" You were caught off guard by the question. Since coming into town, you and him haven't really had the chance to talk about anything other than work.

"We broke up a year ago." You eventually said taking a glance up at him.

Thank fuck, he thought to himself

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know" He hummed taking another drink.

"Nah, it's fine. The relationship was past its expiry. It was becoming toxic as hell." You glanced up at him with a soft smile.

"You were right though" You continued after a moment of silence.

Carmy looked up with slight confusion, wondering what you were talking about.

"He was lying to me, about... well pretty much everything." You explained, feeling the sinking feeling in your heart.

You remembered finding out about all the lies. That the person you had spent so much time with had lied about everything good in his life. You didn't know him at all.

A memory sparked in Carmy's mind, he was back in New York. He was at a bar with you. After begging him week after week to go out for a drink with you, he gave in. Too many beers later, he blurted out his real thoughts on Nick. Looking back, he couldn't help but cringe on the way he acted. He couldn't even remember the exact words he said. But he remembers your reaction and the hurt in her eyes.

"W-What did I even say?" Carmy asked, squinting his eyes trying to think back harder.

You thought back to the memory. The loud music, sticky bar table and Carmy's messy hair across from you. You remember smelling beer on his breath and his words were slightly slurred. The haze in his eyes was getting thicker.

"Um.. you said that Nick was full of shit." You recalled and then smiled to yourself when you remembered more.

"And I quote 'He's playing you like a fuckin' fiddle'" Feeling a smirk climb onto your face.

Carmy rubbed his mouth down with his hand trying to hide his smile. But a smile broke through anyway.

"Jesus, I really have a way with words." He scoffed to himself, taking another gulp from the bottle.

You quietly laughed, bringing the beer up to your mouth.

Carmy brought his hand to his hair to scratch his head. He felt ashamed for his raw words. But he was grateful that you didn't hold it against him.

To say he struggled socially would be an understatement. He felt too awkward sometimes, to the point where he would be uncomfortable. Over the years of moving the way he did, he rarely had more than one or two friends at most. Those friends were mostly work colleagues.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" You asked bringing him out of thought.

He nodded, putting his empty beer bottle on the desk.

"How did your brother..." You trailed off, not knowing how to phrase your question.

"He killed himself, shot himself in the head," Carmy's said bluntly, crossing his arms avoiding eye contact with you. His stare never leaving the floor.

You stared at him and didn't say a word. For some reason, you just thought he died in a car accident. Your mind went blank for a moment only to realise what Carmy might be going through.

"Fuck Carmy, I'm so sor-"

"Don't." He interrupted, shaking his head.

"It's fine. Really." He shrugged getting up abruptly to the point it startled you a little.

He grabbed his empty beer bottle and gestured at you to see if you wanted another one.

You nodded absent-minded, still digesting the bomb he dropped on you.

He went to the kitchen and shook his head in annoyance while walking to the fridge. He felt like a shithead saying something like that so plainly. He didn't want to scare you away. It didn't help that he walked away straight after saying it.

Well fuckin' done, smooth as always, he thought to himself on his way to the fridge.

He came back with two new bottles and cracked them open with ease again. He placed yours on the desk in front of you.

You both sat there, not saying a word. He was never the type that was good with words. Usually talking got him into more trouble. His family were blunt and to the point. No feelings were ever spared in the household. He didn't want to be that way. Since moving away, he always made an effort to get better at communicating.

You looked over to see his leg shaking non stop. It was dumb for you to bring up his brother. You could have asked anyone else, and they would have told you.

You gulped down the last of your first one and pushed it onto the desk. Carmy held the neck of the bottle, resting it between his legs. He shifted in his seat, making you glance over at him.

"I didn't mean to unload this on you. For some reason, I thought you knew. It's fuckin' stupid for me to think that." He leaned forward resting his arms on his thighs.

"I-I'm sorry," He continued, resting his hand on your arm, looking up through his lids.

You looked down at his hand on your arm, the warmth of his hand on your wrist.

"You're the last person that's should apologise." You gave a weak smile resting your hand on top of his.

You both sat there, not saying anything. The peace you felt between both of you was something you missed since going your separate ways. You notice that his leg shake slowed down to a halt.

"If you need someone, you know I'm here, right?" You angled your head making sure to keep eye contact.

"Yea- yeah I know" He nodded pulling away and leaning back into his chair.

Since moving back to Chicago, he hasn't had a moment to himself to think. He didn't know if he even wanted one. He felt that if he stopped for one brief moment, that everything would catch up. His thoughts, feelings and grief. Him being next to you, gave him comfort. Having someone who knew him before his life turned into a shitshow. His old life where it was stressful but not chaotic. Not the way it is now.

He took out his pack of cigarettes, taking one out before turning the pack to you.

You quit smoking a year ago but didn't have the heart to deny his offer, especially after the heart wrenching conversation. You took one and got up from your seat grabbing the coat from the chair. You followed him out behind the building. His cigarette held between his lips as his zipped up his wool jacket shielding him from the sharp breeze. It was becoming dark, the fall evenings really settling in Chicago.

Carmy searched his pockets and pulled out a pink transparent lighter, flicking it with his thumb a couple of times before a small flame emitted from it. A glow was cast on his face, with the end of his smoke burning bright orange.

You gazed at him with the weight of guilt in your stomach. You started to think that maybe you weren't just there for management guidance. Maybe you were there for support. It was hard to tell, Carmy was never the type to speak his thoughts. That's what made this so difficult. How do you ask someone about something so sensitive?

You gave a quick smile as he leaned the lighter to you. You inhaled watching the cigarette catch a light before feeling the smoke travel down to your lungs. You exhaled letting out a sigh of relief, forgetting the bliss that smoking gave you. He looked up with his lip curled at the end blowing smoke out his nose.

"It's been awhile" You looked over smiling softly.

He gave a slight nodded, scratching his upper lip with his thumb while holding the cig.

Your denim jacket wasn't doing you any favors in this unforgiving cold, you brought your arms closer to your body. You didn't think Chicago was going to be this cold into Fall and took note that you needed to buy a heavier one.

"How long can you stay?" He asked walking over and sitting down to the weathered wooden bench.

You take a seat beside him thinking about your response.

"Uhhh, great question." You licked your lips after another pull.

How do you break it to him that you lost your job 3 months ago.

You clicked your pen over and over, sitting in the office on a late weeknight. As you looked at the roster for the upcoming weeks you double checked the bookings to make sure enough staff was around for the busy season to come. With people taking their PTO, it was a challenge every year that always left you with a nightmare to figure out. The knock on the door broke your focus and you looked up to see Vince popping his head in.

"Hey Vince" You smiled leaning back on the office chair.

"Hey" He closed the door behind him gently and you noticed something off immediately.

"How's things going?" He asked with soft tone stuffing his hands into his back pockets.

"Just the usual, it's the time of the nightmare PTO" You chuckled lightly.

"What's up?" You glanced at the clock on the wall noticing this was an off time for him to check in, 10pm on a Tuesday night.

He took a deep breath but keeping his gaze on the ground. You felt your stomach turn from the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I-I don't know how to say this." He stuttered.

Now you were real concerned, you sat up watching him. He was only a shadow of his usual self. The bearded man who would put a smile on your face when just being around his presence. He would check in on everyone to make sure there was no issues. He helped you become who you are today with everything he thought you when it came to managing a bustling restaurant.

"Marie, she's been diagnosed with ....cancer." His voice broke, you could tell he was holding back.

"What?" You said to yourself in disbelief. You saw her last week when she came in to check in. She looked fine, totally normal.

"But-" You stopped not wanting to say anything to upset him.

"Did you get a second opinion?" You asked after a moment, hearing about misdiagnoses can be a thing.

He nodded looking down at the ground. You could tell he was barely keeping it together. They've been together for decades and you knew this hit him to his core.

"It's stage 4" He whispered keeping his eyes on the floor.

You stared at him, not understanding the words coming out of his mouth. You've known them for years. You've grown as a manager here. You've been through the ups and downs, through the surreal covid time.

"I'm so sorry Vince-" You said sympathetically, getting up from the chair to try and comfort him.

He went on to tell you that they would have to shutdown the restaurant for the foreseeable future if not for good. They didn't have enough time nor money to keep the restaurant going and treat his wife for however long she had left. You started recommending things that might help them but it seemed that the decision was already made.

You watch him leave the office sorrowfully and in that instant felt completely lost. The roster that you were making, didn't matter. The new menus that were freshly printed on your desk didn't matter. You could hear Vince muffled voice from the kitchen. Most likely telling the rest of the staff the devastating news.

Two weeks later, you closed up the restaurant for the last time. After spending years there, you had no backup plan. It was completely unexpected.

The honking of a car down the street snapped you out of your trance.

"The thing is.." you paused flicking the ash off your cigarette.

"Vince shut up shop a couple of months ago" You blew smoke out of your mouth.

"What?" Carmy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

You nodded dropping the butt on the ground smooshing it with you boot.

"Marie got cancer, terminal" You stated remembering the last phone conversation you had with Vince.

He sounded weak on other end of the phone. You called to check in knowing they needed all the support right now. He told you that she was in a hospice, making her comfortable and waiting for the inevitable.

"Last time I spoke to him, he said she only had a month left at most" You scrunched up your lips, your feelings whelming up inside.

Carmy sat there. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to tell him after everything he's been through but when it came to Marie passing you didn't want to shock him.

"Shit" He whispered, his head dropped.

You brought your hand over and rubbed his back. You didn't want to deliver the bad news but keeping something like that from him wasn't right either.

You could feel tears pricking up in your eyes and wiped them away quickly. You had no right to cry right now. You wanted to be there for Carmy.

Both of you sat there in silence. You wondered what he was thinking and wanted to not make him feel worse than he probably already did.

"I remember when you first started." You smiled to yourself while the memory ran through your mind.

"You came in so focused on what Vince was telling you. You wouldn't talk to anyone. You get in, do your work, stay late and then go home." You chuckled lightly to yourself.

You remember watching him as he watch Vince guided him. He would hang onto every word Vince said, like his life depended on it. People would crack jokes here and there especially when it was a slow night but Carmy wouldn't even crack a smile. He wasn't there to fuck around.

"I remember that one dick that screamed at me in front of a 12 top after his food was delayed and Vince came out and gave him an earful, 'emeber that?" You reminisced

Carmy sat back up and nodded, half smiling.

"I just remember being in the walk in and you burst in crying." He commented glancing over at you.

"I didn't even notice you were there at first. I was just in shock from getting screamed at in front of everyone"

You remembered looking over and seeing him with a container of sauce, frozen in place and staring at you completely startled. He came over asking what happened and through the sobbing you explained. Carmy gave you some words of reassurance knowing the bastard that screamed at you was just a cruel prick. It was the first time you talked to each other and it was nice to know he wasn't a complete robot.

He remembered seeing you in such distress with your eyes red and swollen. After hearing about what happened, he wanted to go in front and tell the motherfucker to get out of the restaurant. But he knew Vince was handling it. He never spoke much to you, but knew that you were nothing but nice to him and that you didn't deserve to be treated that way. Nobody deserved that.

After that day, Carmy and you would share some words through the shift and then those words turn to conversations which eventually lead to both of you hanging out at work.

"Wanna go back in?" Carmy nodded towards the door.

You both return to normal temperatures where you dethaw from being outside way longer than you should have been.

You made your way back to the office still wearing your jackets feeling the stiffness in your hands from the cold. You leaned over to checked your phone for it to light up, 7:30pm.

"Today flew by" You stretched out feeling the effects of sitting at a desk majority of the day. The cold didn't help either.

"Oh, so you never answered my question" Carmy rubbed his hands together to get some friction heat going.

"Uh... " You thought for a moment and clicked into what he was on about.

After coming to the realization that you were going to be jobless, you sat with the idea of maybe staying that way for awhile. You haven't taken any time off for summer in years. You thought if you didn't do it now that you never have another chance.

Your phone screen light up beside you on the couch, with a number you didn't recognize. You paused the movie and picked it up and hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uhh.. it's Carmy" A smile immediately popped up on your face hearing the familiar voice on the other end.

It was a pleasant surprise and totally unexpected for you to hear from him. He explained the situation he was in and that he would really appreciate if you could stay for awhile to help him in any way. You thought to yourself about how it would be nice to visit an old friend. He explained he wouldn't be able to pay you right now but if he would figure something out. Money wasn't the issue. You had a nice little nest egg to fall back on for the unanticipated free summer you were going to have.

He asked if Vince would mind, giving you sometime off to help, even if it was for a couple of days. You avoided the topic and said that you could work something out. You were thankful that he didn't challenge you and accepted the answer.

"Oh staying yeah... well my flight is booked for the end of next week".

You saw a flash of disappoint in his face before he looked down at his hands. You didn't want to look too much into his reaction, but seeing him that way ping something in your chest for a split second.

"But.. if paperwork isn't sorted by then, I can always reschedule my flight" You offered with a smile.

"Yea, yeah of course. I don't wanna take you away from anythin' that you have going back home..." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Carmy, I'm literally unemployed right now." You said bluntly glaring at him before breaking into a snicker.

"Anyway let's just wait til' the middle of the week and then I'll decide if I need more time." You explained, breaking into a yawn.

"Heard." Carmy nodded.

"Anyway, it's getting pretty late so I think it's time to close up" He stuffed his hands in this pockets, turning towards the swinging doors.

You started putting away the paperwork you were looking at, leaving the desk in a somewhat tidy state for the morning. Carmy did a round on the kitchen to double check everything was off before making his way back to the office.

It felt like nothing had changed between you two. After years of both you doing your own thing, when it came down to you both chilling, everything was the same. He watched you tidy up and could imagine this being the norm, you working here permanently. He instantly knew that you would slide right into this place. How easy it was for you to read people and get on with them. He also didn't want to have any expectation on you though.

It would be crazy to think just after 2 weeks you would even consider moving to Chicago for a job that wouldn't be paying you for God knows how long. He felt at ease when you were around him. Saying goodbye to that when you leave was going to be hard on him. But he didn't have time to lay on his feelings. There was a million things that still needed to get done in the restaurant. The restaurant that felt like it was going to crumble to the ground any second. He would be the one to witness it. He would be the one with the burden on his shoulders. Not Mikey.

Carmy pulled the door to check it was locked and stuffed the keys in his pocket. You both looked at each other giving a small smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Chef" You added taking a step back.

"See ya, Boss" Carmy developed an amused look turning down towards to street.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started walking further down the side walk crossing your arms, trying to keep your jacket as close to you as possible.

Carmy walked home feeling better than usual. Normally, he was always thinking about the next day and want needed to be done. What could make the restaurant more money. But, he caught himself not doing that, instead he was thinking about the evening he just spent with you.

His mind drifted back to the memories of him and you back in New York. Memories that he hasn't thought about it a long time. As much as he hated asking for help, he was glad he reached out to you. He was grateful that you were able to come out.

When he arrived home, he took off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and fell back onto the couch. He flicked through the channels not really paying attention to what he was watching. He felt his eyelids get heavy and within minutes he was asleep. It must have been the first time since moving back from New York that he fell asleep with such ease.

Chapter 3

Masterlist of other fics

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmy x reader #chicago #angst #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fx #the bear headcanon #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #jeremy allen white #fuckin with the Ecosystem

[ctrlchar]

Stalker Charlie Walker headcannons

not requested! and i know the gif isn’t charlie but rory looks so cute here

this man will do whatever it takes to see you

like has a whole notes app with your schedule and things you like to do

you were definitely going to be a victim but charlie said he’d rat her out if she killed you not even caring if he gets caught too<3

he goes from friend to friend asking about you and if anyone ever tells you he’ll say they were lying

somehow he found your address and ever since he’s been going over to your house

it started off as a few times a week but then he couldn’t help himself and a few times a week turned into a few times a day

he noticed the little band tees you would wear and he would go home and the first thing he does is litsen to those bands

whenever he gets himself off you’re the only thing on his mind

he thinks about you riding him,edging him and definitely overstimulating him

i don’t think he had a mommy kink until he met you tbh

hes super possessive of you

even if you guys aren’t dating he would be fuming if you even looked at someone other then him but of course he wouldn’t tell you

eventually he decided it would be best if he just talks to you

he invited you to the stabathon to which you happily accepted

he gets you a seat right in the middle knowing it’s the best seat

after he gives his little speech he goes and sits down beside you

you get tired after stab three (because who is gonna sit there and watch 7 stab movies)

you and him talk about the movies and whatnot before charlie noticed how tired you seem

”tired?” he asks before taking a sip of his drink

you nod at his question before he thinks

“i was gonna head out soon myself” he lied “i have to get up early so if you want i could drive you home” he offers with a smile

eventally you accept his offer and he drives you home but you never told him your address?

too tired to think about it you put it off and let yourself into your house

and if you heard rustling in the bushes and maybe even a couple whimpers no you didnt

a/n: before anyone asks yes i did look up how many stab movies there were and in scream 4 it said they shower a box set of 7 and this was so rushed my apologies guys

#charlie walker #scream #scream 4 #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #charlie walker x reader

[thesmpisonfire]

Okay so. I'm taking most of y'all feelings over Forever have been slightly distorted due to language barriers. Because Forever can't fully express himself in English, so his arguments often sound silly or simply funded in nothing

But y'all need to understand that Forever has been suffering ever since he got on the island. Just like water that can break a rock if it hits it too many times, so is Forever with the constant stress of the server. He saw his son lose a life on his second day, he saw one of his son's dads be kidnapped on the first week BECAUSE Felps was trying to make a deal with the Federation and he spent a LOT of in-game months with the possibility that Felps might have been killed

He took over his shoulders the guilt of Tallulah's death because he isn't a good PvPer, he took the responsibility of protecting all the eggs even if no one expected him to. He created the egg hotel and a system that is constantly upgrading in order to keep all the eggs safe

And what he got out of it?

Cellbit's (momentary) betrayal, the French suspecting him, BBH and Baghera keeping stuff from him

Forever holds his heart on his sleeve, and as he does his trust. He trusts 100% and he cares 100% and he loves with all he has. It makes him an extremely loyal person, but also someone extremely inclined to lashing out bc there are too many emotions to keep bottled inside

Cellbit's betrayal hit him DEEP. It pushed him over the edge and made him completely paranoid over anyone else. Cellbit was his best friend and he stabbed Forever in the back with the worst betrayal he could think of: Taking Richas away

This messed up badly with Forever, and then Richa got momentarily kidnapped (willingly) by Quackity. Those two days were BAD. Not only was Forever without Richa, there was also the code attack right after he got Richas back and when the French doubted him

It was when Forever found out that no matter what he did, it didn't matter to people if they wanted to frame him as a traitor. BBH and Baghera defended him at that moment, but it was a bad hit for Forever

And then, Bad and Baghera, out of the care and love in their hearts, i know it, saw how under pressure Forever was, and how he was so close to breaking and they needed to help him somehow. Their decision? Keep information from him, so he wouldn't feel more overwhelmed

It DIDN'T help. If anything, made Forever even more paranoid and hurt. Because Forever would never keep info from his sister and the guy he trusts the most. But they would keep from him and share with each other instead, even if it was to be sure before delivering the info later to Forever

All of this broke Forever's stability. A couple of days ago, he tried to name the people he'd trust with his life and he couldn't name anyone beyond the other Brazilians and Baghera (he was upset with BBH at the time and didn't count him). And it's so heartbreaking that he feels he has this little people he could count on. Ofc later the day he talked with Bad and he reassured Forever he'd be there for him no matter what. With popcorn if he wanted to laugh and with Kleenex if he wanted to cry (Well. Bad,,, you weren't good in keeping this promise, were you?)

And then. We arrive at the most recent situation that Forever feels like it's him against the world. Again. The Jaiden situation

From Forever's POV, he only interacted with Jaiden 3 times: When the Brazilians arrived; During the quest for Bobby (in which Forever was the one defending Jaiden, he was the one to check on her until the end before leaving her alone); And now where she's working for Cucurucho

Forever saw what happens to people that worked for the Federation, Cellbit and Felps tried to get something for Richa and just got completely fucked over, and didn't even got rewarded with the extra life they asked for. Forever knows the Federation isn't trustworthy and worries for anyone that tries to get closer (His panic over Quackity being taken even if they were fighting just minutes prior, his fear that the same would happen to Jaiden)

But even after all the warnings, Jaiden is still doing her tasks, she's still following the missions. From what Forever heard, she's doing all of this for Bobby and the other eggs. And there comes the most important part: Forever sees himself in Jaiden

He saw her grief and her house and how she wanted everything to be back to normal. He knows he's practically looking at a future version of himself in case Richa dies. And he knows that he'd do anything to get Richa back, including support the Federation

Not only that, but everything keeps pointing to Jaiden not being trustworthy. The fact she held Baghera away when Pomme died, how she's still working for Cucurucho despite the warnings, the broken satellite (I mean. Cellbit had a task to destroy his xp farm inside a PROTECTED house, breaking some copper would be nothing)

And even with all of this?? He still cares for Jaiden. A fucking lot. It's WHY he's lashing out and being so loud, because his emotions are a turmoil within him and he wants to save Jaiden from herself but he doesn't know how to do so. All he knows is that they can't trust her but they need to save her anyway. But he's too loud, and over reactive, and he lashes out because wearing his heart on his sleeve means he'll bleed all over the ones around him the moment he gets hurt

He tells Bad his suspicions and then Bad just dismisses them to say Jaiden is trustworthy but can't explain to Forever why. The same Bad that promised he'd stay by Forever's side no matter what. Ofc Forever got hurt, it was just like another betrayal. And Baghera doesn't trust Jaiden as well, but she keeps it to herself, which makes Forever feel even more isolated. His two supports aren't trying to understand his side and instead trying to undermine it (in his POV), and so in who he'll get the support he needs? Maxo, the well known paranoia echo chamber

Forever has been hurt and betrayed and he's trying so hard to heal from that and keep his bonds and connections but to him it feels like he's always the one to give give give and never receive back. He can't lose anyone else but it's like everyone keeps slipping from his fingers. This means Cellbit, Felps, Richa, Bad, Baghera, and yes Jaiden as well. He wants everyone safe, he just doesn't know how to properly convey it

And so... Yeah. Ofc he suspects of Jaiden. Who wouldn't do the same if they could have their dead kid back?

#qsmp #forever player #qsmp character study

[acewritesfics]

Pal-entine's Day | Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Platonic!Female Reader

Request: From anon for last years Valentines celebration. THIS IS A REPOST FROM @/DLMLUFICS.

Prompts: friend valentines, being stood up and surprise. 

Warnings: fluff. “Friendly” kiss between friends. Platonic relationship.

Word Count: 1,089

Jay Halstead Masterlist

©️ no one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my works on here or anywhere else.

It's almost 10 o’clock at night and Y/N is laying on her couch, watching some sappy romance movie with a tub of her favorite flavored ice cream cradled against her chest. Just as she stabs the spoon into the ice cream to scoop out some more a loud knocking comes from her front door.   

“Go away,” she mumbles putting no effort into making the person go away. But as the knocking gets more incessant, she sighs sitting up and slams her ice cream on the coffee table. She drags her feet to the front door, opening it and is pleasantly surprised to see her best friend and work partner, Detective Jay Halstead, standing there. She hides her surprise and sadness behind a teasing smirk. “Your date didn’t want to take it back to her place?”  

“There was no date,” he tells her, pushing past her to go inside.   

She only just notices the stuff in his hands after she closes and locks the door behind him and follows him into the living area.  

“Did you get stood up or something?”   

“Nope,” he says, placing the 6 pack of beer, some welted flowers, and bags of food on the kitchen counter of the open plan space. After shrugging off his coat, he hangs it over one of the dining table chairs.  

“What’s all this?” she asks confused and still a little surprised.   

“I didn’t actually have a date tonight,” he admits. “I was going to spend the night at home, watching hockey with beer and pizza but then you texted me saying that jackass stood you up. So, here I am being the bestest friend ever.”  

“You didn’t have to do this,” pouting, she fights the urge to cry. She truly did have the bestest best friend in the world.   

Y/N was asked on a date by one of the patrol officers at the 21st. This guy she has been flirting with and waiting for him to ask her on a date for a few months now. So, when he came up to her a couple of weeks ago, asking her if she would like to have dinner with him on Valentine’s Day, she told him she would love to.   

Tonight, he was supposed to meet her at one of the slightly fancier restaurants along the waterfront. When he didn’t show up an hour after their reservation was made for, feeling hurt and embarrassed, she paid for the couple drinks that she drank and left the restaurant so another couple could use the table.   

As she sat in her car in front of the restaurant, needing a moment to compose herself, she texted Jay telling him what happened. She didn’t expect a reply or a call until tomorrow, while hoping he was having better luck with his own date. What she didn’t expect was for him to show up at her doorstep with some of her favorite things.  

“These are for you, because everyone deserves flowers valentine's day,” he says picking up and holding out the flowers. “I may have stolen them from some restaurants outdoor table. Please don’t arrest me.”  

“Depends on what’s in those bags,” she smiles already feeling a lot better than she had been five minutes ago.   

Jay has always had the knack for making her feel better even when she wants nothing more than to wallow in her own misery. He would never let her do that alone.   

The two friends met when they went through the academy together. They dated for a couple of months but ultimately decided they’re better off friends and have remained that way since. After graduating, they were assigned to different districts but always found time for each other. Now they’ve been working intelligence together for 4 years which has come with many difficulties in their friendship but has also made it even stronger.  

“I know you well enough to know that the ice cream on the coffee table is all you’ve eaten tonight so I brought the best burgers and fries in town with me,” he holds up one of the bags, showing her the logo of her favorite fast-food place.  

She takes the bag from him and opens it, instantly inhaling the smell of her favorite burger. It smells so good her stomach begins to rumble giving away that he was indeed right about her having not eaten a proper meal.   

“I could kiss you right now.”  

“I wouldn’t stop you. It’ll be the most action both of us have gotten today,” he says setting the second bag of food on the table and opens it.   

Y/N walks over to him, taking his face in her hands and plants a soft peck to his lips. “Better?”  

“Much better, thank you,” he smiles and goes back to removing the food from the bags. “I love you; you know that right?”  

“I do. I love you too and I should be the one thanking you,” she says moving to hug him from behind, her hands against his stomach and her head resting on his back. “This is the best surprise I’ve ever gotten and it’s why you’ll always be my number one guy.”  

“I’ve got to make sure my number one woman feels loved and cared for, especially after some loser beat cop breaks her heart,” he says and turns around in her arms. He kisses her forehead as his arms wrap around her.   

“He didn’t break my heart,” she assures him. “I just feel stupid for wasting my time on a guy that I thought actually liked me back.”  

“You’re not stupid, he is,” Jay reminds her. “Now let’s eat cause I’m starving.”   

Y/N chuckles and lets him go. She sits down at the table, pulling the food out of the other bag. Jay sits to her right as they begin to eat. “Best Valentines ever.”  

“You mean Pal-entines,” Jay says as though he’s correcting her.  

“Did you learn a new word?” She teasingly questions him.  

“I had to look it up,” he shrugs. “There was also Galentine's, but I don’t have the anatomy for that,” he adds making her laugh.  

After eating, they move to the couch to finish watching the movie she’d started before he arrived. By the time the movie finished, Y/N had fallen asleep curled into Jay’s side as they laid down to get more comfortable.  

Instead of leaving, he pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over them. He makes himself more comfortable, being careful not to wake Y/N. 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please - @alexxavicry - @nicole-19s-world - @mimiteller712 - @qutequeersstuff

#acewritesfics repost #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd x reader #jay halstead

[bippot]

Pretty please write a Mike Schmidt for me, my sweet dear friend that has made it very clear to me that she's back in her Josh Hutcherson phase? I know that you want to! I'll love you more than I already do ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

I love the Josh Hutcherson renaissance! I've been seeing more Future Man love and content out there and that's great! It's one of my favourite shows. And there something about the FNAF movie that just has crack in it or something cause I've watched it 3 times in the past week.

Summary: Mike and Abby move into a new apartment with a new neighbour, but Mike's old mundane responsibilities still persist. That's okay, his neighbour and her dog are prepared to entertain Abby for as long as he needs.

Additional Tags: Moving, Babysitting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Minor Spoilers, Mike Schmidt Needs a Hug (Five Nights at Freddy's)

Full Masterlist - here

The Schmidt siblings returned to their home after the events at pizzeria and Mike immediately knew that they had to move. The sight of his aunt's dead body on the floor was something that would stick in his brain for a hot minute, and truthfully, he'd seen far too many corpses in the span of 24 hrs than he ever thought was possible.

Vanessa's stabbing and Aunt Jane's murder was reported to the police by the Schmidt's as being done by the same killer - because it kinda was, but also not, but it was thanks to his murderous influence so yeah - although the killer in question hadn't been found when the cops did a sweep of the pizzeria.

So, Mike found a small apartment not that far from Abby's school and they began the process of settling in there. He assumed they'd live in their childhood home until Abby was grown up and wanted to go away to college or get a place of her own, but that wasn't the case.

This new home was smaller and cheaper than the old Schmidt residence, plus it didn't come with a lifetime of memories attached to it. It was an improvement, Mike had to keep reminding himself of that fact as he hauled what few belongings he had left into the back of his car.

All the stuff that wouldn't fit had been sold off and Mike was sad to see a lot of his parents stuff go but it helped him acquire some well needed pocket cash for gas or whatever school supplies Abby needed. Whatever was left was transferred into room 34 of the Greystone apartments.

It was a long process, mostly because Abby was at school and the only other person who'd Mike would ask to help was still recovering. That meant that he had to lift every single box up three flights of stairs since the elevator was currently broken. Or, at least that was what he thought.

After making three trips, door 32 opened and a sweet voice asked, "Would you like some help?" Mike nearly dropped the two boxes he'd stacked precariously in his arms as he spun around to put a face to the voice.

Just his luck! His neighbour was a total babe. To anyone else that would've been excellent news, but to Mike, this ensured that he'd be nervous as hell when entering and exiting his own apartment because his mind would have to be alert in case she wanted to talk to him and get a response that was more than incoherent mumbling.

Look, he wasn't a socially awkward guy. Socially avoidant was the term he preferred. He could hold a conversation with a person, with a woman. With a woman he found attractive on the other hand? Well, he hadn't done that in a while. He was more than a little rusty.

Thankfully, this neighbour didn't seem to notice how weirdly out of his depth he felt. Instead, she nodded towards the boxes he'd been piling outside his front door. "Need a hand with those?" she inquired, voice smooth and melodious like an angel.

He swallowed hard, feeling stupid, but somehow answered anyway, "If you don't mind, yeah, please." It came out sounding like he was choking on his words which, given that he had formed coherent sentences in her presence, was the best he was going to get for now.

"Do you have a U-haul truck full?"

"I, uh, folded the seats down of my Accord and shoved, yeah, shoved e-everything in the back."

"Oh. Smart." She closed her door and gestured for them to start walking towards the exit, and he was happy to oblige. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Mike."

Mike wanted to say something, to strike up some really interesting conversation that would have her hanging onto each word he said with rapt attention - but his words died before he could utter them. There were just... no words, no topic of choice, nothing. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. If he tried to speak, he might choke and die.

That would be bad. Really bad.

Y/N didn't seem to mind. She could talk for the both of them, it seemed. Honestly, he wasn't sure what she was saying. He wasn't focused on that. No, he was focused on everything else about her, every movement, every breath, the way her hair fell in her eyes, the way her lips curled into a half smile whenever she made a joke and how it curled even farther up when she laughed. He couldn't stop staring.

Sometimes, he felt like he was a bit of a weirdo. It was a conscious effort of his to notice as much as he possibly could about someone he's meeting for the first time and doesn't understand yet, but there were times - far too many times - when he zeroed in on details that didn't need that much scrutiny. Like, why did she have a very faint scar on the inside of her right bicep? Or pen on her left wrist? Or why was she looking at him like she had asked a question and was waiting for him to respond?

Oh. Because she had asked a question and was waiting for him to respond.

That'll do it.

"Sorry, I totally spaced out. What, umm... what did you say?"

"I asked which car was yours."

It was obvious. It was the Honda they were standing in front of that was filled with cardboard boxes.

"Yeah, this is it. Here we are. This is my car."

"You don't say."

Before Mike could stop himself, he rolled his eyes. It was a good natured, amused roll, but a roll nonetheless. He smiled to himself as he opened the boot and began taking out all the boxes he deemed worthy of carrying to his apartment on this trip.

Together, they got everything from the car into his apartment without too much fuss. It took a while so there had been a few awkward silences, but Mike was slowly progressing in his effort to talk to her without tripping over his feet and ending up flat on his ass. He managed to get his words out without making a complete idiot of himself. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

By the time his belongings were safely in his apartment, it was time to pick Abby up from school.

"To say, to say thank you, would you - you can say no, obviously, - Abby and I are going to order pizza for dinner as a celebration of this place. And because we don't have any groceries yet. If you'd like to, yeah, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you wanted to join us?" he blurted out in one large breath as they stood in their opposite doorways, half in half out of their living rooms.

"I'd love to, but I'm busy...doing things. Doing stuff."

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Maybe, yeah, maybe another time, then?"

"Uh... Sure, sounds good."

They both looked awkward, and neither of them moved for a beat too long until Mike realised that if he didn't leave soon, he was going to be late for pick up. He gave her one final shy wave before rushing to the stairwell.

Abby wasn't told about the nice, pretty girl from next door that he'd been an idiot in front of so when they'd returned from grocery shopping the very next day and Mike was talking to some lady in the newly fixed elevator, she was a little confused. Because she knew her brother. Her brother didn't get people he'd never spoken to before to smile at him like that.

"Hi Mike," Y/N greeted softly as they approached, giving the dachshund at her feet a gentle tug so he'd give the siblings more space to stand. "I'm guessing you went grocery shopping."

Correct. The hand that wasn't holding Abby's had three heavy grocery bags in it.

"Y/N, hey!" Her brother grinned in a way Abby had never seen before. His cheeks flushed slightly and he cleared his throat, his grin turning shy. "This is Abby. This is my sister Abby."

Something akin to relief flashed across Y/N's face. "Nice to meet you, Abby. Mike mentioned you yesterday, but he didn't tell me how cool your shoes are." She crouched down to pretend to get a better look. "Cupcakes are cool."

Abby giggled at the compliment and pushed her nose into Mike's side. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of her brother's bicep and at the fabric there so he'd lean down for her to whisper in his ear. "She asks, can she pet your dog please? Pretty please?" he repeated. "Why she couldn't ask you, I don't know."

"Tater here would love to be petted."

On cue, Tater barked excitedly and wagged his tail at the prospect of being fussed over. Abby cooed loudly and reached out her hand to pet his head. As soon as her fingertips touched his fur, he leaned into her touch and licked her hand enthusiastically. Abby shrieked in delight at the attention, her small hands flailing wildly for a second before reaching out to stroke Tater's ears. Mike could see the joy in the kid's bright eyes and it sent warmth pooling in his chest.

With Abby occupied, Y/N felt the need to clarify, "I was under the impression yesterday that Abby was your girlfriend."

"Ew, gross."

"That's why I was weird about the pizza. I didn't want to third wheel, you know? Sorry I jumped to a completely wrong conclusion."

At that, the corners of Mike's lips twisted upwards. His shoulders relaxed a fraction as he breathed a quiet sigh. Thank God he didn't weird her out with his odd behaviour.

"No, no, I get it. I'm a guy and I mentioned a girl. It...it makes, well, it makes sense to jump to conclusions, actually." A spark of boldness appeared all of a sudden and forced him to inquire, "Would you have stayed if I had made it very clear that Abby is ten years old and my sister?"

"I would've." Y/N replied instantly. Not missing a beat, she added, "I love free pizza," with a smirk.

Ding. They reached their floor and went their separate ways for now. Abby had to be told quite a few times to stop stroking Tater and come inside, but she was reluctant to. That dog had charmed her to the core, it seemed. Eventually, Abby reluctantly complied and followed her older brother into their apartment.

No more than ten minutes later, Y/N heard someone knocking on her door and opened it to find little Abby on the other side all by herself. "Hey Abby, you okay?" Y/N asked with a warm smile.

"Can I play with Tater some more please?" The little girl put on the most cutesy, pleading smile she could muster and batted her eyelashes in order to make it all the more convincing.

"Did you ask your brother?"

"He's in the shower."

So that's a no. Y/N pursed her lips as she thought of a response. Obviously, Mike would freak out if the child in his care was at a stranger's place without his permission. She had no idea about Abby's temperament either. Would she scream and shout if she wasn't given what she wanted? Would she beg? Or would she just be content and go back to whatever she had been doing in her own home?

"Let me just get a lead." Y/N disappeared from view for a minute and Abby was fully prepared for disappointment so she opened the door to her apartment, just listening for the sound of Y/N's door locking. Yet, she was soon reappearing with the weiner dog on a leash.

The pair sat in their opened doorways and fussed over Tater with enthusiasm only children possessed, ignoring the occasional looks from their neighbours who had to step over the situation to get to their homes. The corridor was filled with girly giggles and the occasional happy yap from the puppy as it happily accepted each scratch and pat Abby gave him.

Mike came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and was fully expecting to walk into his room to get changed directly afterwards. That didn't happen straight away. He noticed the opened door before the chatter and rushed to check that his sister was safe and still in the confines of their new home.

Maybe she was talking to those dead kids again. That was not something he needed right now.

"Abby?" he called out tentatively, but upon hearing no response other than more giggles, Mike stepped closer to the door and was rather confused as to why his sister was sitting in the doorway.

Y/N's eyes widened the moment sexy, dripping wet Mike appeared in view. She gulped nervously and took in his attire for a split second, trying her best not to stare too openly at his body. It was a struggle at best and she had to take a deep breath.

"Look Mike, Tater can do tricks!" Abby cheered happily when she noticed her brother coming closer. "Tater, play dead."

The dog did exactly as the girl said and rolled onto its back, exposing his belly in a way that was just asking for rubs. And Abby was overjoyed to give them to him. Mike couldn't help chuckling at the sight of his sister, who he was pretty sure had instigated all of this, laughing like crazy as she scratched Tater behind the ear, his tongue hanging out of his mouth while he let out pleased barks.

"You're such a good boy," she praised, patting his head gently and causing the dog to roll over again. "Can we get a dog?"

"Well, uh-" He paused, "Can we have this conversation when I have clothes on?" The girl frowned but nodded her head nonetheless. "Great. I will do that then. I'll get some, uh huh, I will stop being so naked now. I promise."

Subtly, Y/N hid her laugh behind her hand as she watched the scene before her unfold. It was adorable watching him struggle to find words.

Sitting together and playing around with Tater in their doorways became a daily occurrence for the girls. Abby would get home from school and count down the minutes till Y/N came back from work, only to turn to look at her brother expectantly. "Can I?" she'd ask every time, and he'd say yes every time. It became a routine between them, one that gave Mike free time to look for a new job.

And eventually, he did find one. It wasn't exactly ideal. The hours were long and overlapped with after school time, but it was in the day, and it ensured that they'd get 20% off their groceries. The supermarket in town was looking for shelf stockers. The pay wasn't spectacular, but it was liveable. There wasn't much customer interaction. His main focus was to refill the shelves and that was it, nothing beyond that.

No animatronics. No ghost kids. No serial murderers - as far as he knew. And definitely no Balloon Boy.

Originally, he wasn't going to take the job. But, he happened to mention it to Y/N one day and she immediately tried to squash his worries. "I can pick Abby up from school on my way home from work and she can hang out here until your shift is over. No biggie," she reasoned, placing her hand reassuringly against his bicep and flashing a smile at him. Mike was hesitant, at first.

On the other hand, Abby was not. She loved being in Y/N's apartment. It looked nicer than their apartment because Y/N had decorations and nicknacks to look at, and a sofa that was far more comfortable than the old, busted one they had, and Tater was there with all his toys and treats. And Y/N had cable too so that meant they could watch Malcolm in the Middle when it was on.

Abby was planning to grab onto this opportunity with both hands as soon as it presented itself.

Y/N arrived at Abby's school and was greeted by the child running towards her excitedly. Her backpack thumped along on her back loudly and her curls jumped as she bounced up and down, clearly very excited to spend her evening with Y/N (primarily Y/N's dog, but hey).

"Hi Y/N!"

"Hi Abs, you ready to go?"

She nodded frantically, a huge grin forming on her cheeks as she handed Y/N a piece of paper. "I drew this for you!" she informed proudly, pointing to a cute little drawing of a very familiar looking puppy curled up in his doggy bed.

Looking at the drawing, Y/N's eyes softened. "Wow! Thank you! It's really, really really good," she praised with genuine happiness as she ruffled the top of Abby's head. "Do you think Tater will like it? Shall we show him?"

That question was all it took to convince the girl to be well behaved and not complain about traffic they had to sit through to get home. She just bobbed her head along to the radio softly, tapping her feet along to the beat on the ground. By the end of the journey, she even began humming to the tunes, making sure to keep her voice quiet enough that she thought Y/N wouldn't be able to hear her singing. Y/N could.

"I missed you!" Abby squealed as soon as she saw the dog lying on his side asleep by the living room couch. She quickly hopped on the floor next to him and started stroking his soft fur. "Tater, wake up so we can play," she whispered, petting him under his chin and hoping he might at least stir awake. After a few more seconds, he finally stirred awake, his little tail swinging from side to side the moment he realised who was stroking him.

Tater attacked Abby with wet, sloppy dog kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably at every lick. Y/N stood beside the couch and laughed at the scene before her. The little girl was a picture of pure joy as Tater licked and slobbered all over her face, causing her to fall backwards onto the carpeted floor and cry out in delight.

If anyone deserved to be spoiled rotten, it was Abby. In fact, both of the remaining Schmidts deserved to be fussed over and Y/N was prepared to do just that to them for as long as they allowed her to.

Mike arrived home from his shift at the grocery store tired and sore. Most of his day had been spent lifting boxes from the storage room out onto the floor with only a single person helping him. And it hadn't helped that his coworker was an older lady - she was kind to him but there was no way she was carrying half of this shit - so he literally did all of the heavy lifting. His back ached badly, which didn't help his mood in the slightest.

However, as he entered Y/N's apartment - they no longer knocked and just walked in these days - and was faced the sight of Abby grating cheese at the kitchen counter as Y/N warned, "Careful of your fingies, don't wanna accidentally cut yourself. Take it slow, honey."

A sweet smile stretched across his lips as he closed the door behind him and made his way towards the two women. Neither of them seemed to notice, clearly too engrossed in preparing their dinner to see as he silently leant against the kitchen door frame and watched them carefully.

At some point, Y/N had braided Abby's hair and obviously Abby wanted to return the favour but wasn't all that good at it as the end of Y/N's locks were all bushy and tangled, the ends curling up into knots and sticking out from underneath the bobble. He chuckled to himself quietly, thus gaining the attention of the both of them instantly.

"How long have you been there, creeper?" Abby asked, giving her brother a dirty glare and earning her a chuckle from him once more.

"Long enough," he replied and shrugged his shoulders. "What are we cooking?"

"Y/N's teaching me how to make Cowboy Pie."

His eyebrow raised in amusement. "Is that so?" he hummed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you never want to help when I cook, huh?"

"You don't cook. You just heat stuff up."

"Oh yeah? I see how it is," he snickered, but was quick to ask, "Well, you two need any help?" and turned his gaze to Y/N, who simply shook her head.

"Go relax. We've got this," she said dismissively, waving him away with the wooden spoon still in her hand. "Don't we, Abs?" She poked the nodding girl in the cheek affectionately. "See? Everything is alright. Go sit with Tater."

She gave him a gentle push with her hip, prompting him to move into the living room without another word. He sat on the couch and placed his bag by his feet, letting out a huge sigh as his ass hit the soft cushion. He rested his elbows on his knees, placed his chin on his palms and leaned forward so he could see into the kitchen.

Watching the duo cook together was mesmerising. A warm feeling filled his chest and spread throughout his entire body - like fire but not uncomfortable, more comforting, like home. Y/N had such a loving smile on her face while Abby looked content and beamed whenever she was allowed to stir the pot or throw in the ingredients. They were like peas in a pod, Y/N taking care of everything and doing all the things that included knives while Abby tried to follow instructions.

He was completely lost in the scene in front of him until something small and furry pressed itself against his leg. He glanced down and smiled upon seeing the dachshund's black nose pressing up against the side of his pant legs. The dog wagged his tail and then looked up at him, staring with his wide brown eyes, almost pleading for attention. Mike couldn't say no to Tater so he bent down to scratch gently behind his floppy ears.

"Hiya, boy," he murmured happily. "Us guys have got to stick together, right? Can't let the girls boss us around now, can we?" Tater barked and wagged his whole body as if to agree with him.

That meal had to be the best he'd ever had, or at least remembered having. It was mainly potato, sausage, beans and cheese, but somehow, they'd managed to make it taste extra good. Tater was given a sausage or two, so he was beyond happy and fell asleep directly after dinner.

Abby was in a similar state. She'd cleaned her plate then asked for more, which was fine because there was leftovers for her to get through. Her belly was full and she was exhausted, so that meant she could probably sleep through the night. She even fell asleep against Mike's shoulder half way through the episode of Family Feud.

Honestly, Mike was close to dozing off too but kept himself awake long enough to pick his sister up and carry her to her bed. "She's out like a light, how did you do that?" he asked Y/N curiously, his arms wrapped around Abby so she didn't fall out of his grip and slump to the corridor floor.

"It was all Tater," she joked, gesturing towards the passed out puppy lying on his back between the gap between the two couch cushions. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah please."

"Goodnight Mike," Y/N smiled, moving in to peck his cheek before disappearing behind her door.

Once she was gone, Mike released a large exhale through his nose, his eyes now wide open and fixed on the crooked 32 number plate on the wood. He wiggled one hand free and straightened it up, then brought his fingertip to where her lips had just been on his skin and smiled faintly.

"Goodnight Y/N."

Every day was similar to that one - obviously there were slight variations where Abby didn't eat as much, or Tater decided to be yappy that day, or Y/N didn't feel like cooking and ordered something in, or Mike was grumpier - but they were all better than before. Their lives weren't exactly perfect, but this was close enough, really.

For now.

"My boss offered me some more hours, just in time for the holidays - and it's a big upgrade in pay -"

"That sounds great, Mike. What's the 'but'?" Y/N frowned as she placed some freshly cooked lasagna on a plate and placed it in front of Mike.

"It's night shifts and a weekend or two." He shoved a fork full into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing and continuing, "You've done so much already and asking you to look after Abby for the entire night... it's too much, you shouldn't have to-"

"Mike-"

"I'll pay you. I promise. Abby told me she wants that Robotic Puppy thing for her present and that's $40 and I said I get that for her to make up for the fact I won't let her get a real dog. Factor in groceries. And bills. And..." he began mumbling to himself, working out all the math in his head. He'd never been all that good at maths.

There was a beat of silence before Y/N let out a small chuckle. "Mike," she sighed again, placing her hand gently on top of his, "It's okay. Really, it is. This isn't a big deal at all. I love spending time with Abby and she loves sleepovers."

Recently, there had been a development in Abby's social life; one that involved more hanging out with her friend outside of school. The new friend had been a late addition to the class and was rather shy, so when she spent her time reading right next to where Abby was drawing, they began their quiet friendship.

"And the weekends?"

"Well, I get Sundays off and Saturdays she can come to work with me. There's always a bunch of kids her age in the library on Saturdays. Yeah, it's all the nerd kids," Y/N explained with a laugh whilst pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Mike. "Relax, Mikey."

With a final deep breath, he nodded his head, his expression changing as he took a sip of wine. "Okay," he breathed and smiled softly. "Thank you. For today. And last week too. And all the times before that."

"Yeah, no problem," she shrugged casually and sipped from her glass as well, trying her hardest to keep the flush off her face.

Working nights again was not something Mike thought he'd ever do again, yet this time, the scenery was far less alive. No, instead it was just dark and cold. And this time, he actually had job responsibilities and couldn't fall asleep at a desk. He had to lift and sort and clean and sweep and tidy and organise and price check and restock. It was boring, mind numbing and absolutely exhausting and he just wanted to go home to sleep and forget about it all.

What was waiting for him when he got home was something else. Something different, something better.

After putting Abby to bed, Y/N had fallen asleep on the living room sofa, a blanket draped around her and a book about to slip from her fingers. Mike knelt beside the couch and grabbed the book and placed it on the coffee table before giving in to the temptation to brush her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek.

"Mike?" Y/N murmured, her eyelids fluttering slightly as her eyes met his own, causing him to bolt away and stand up straight.

"Oh! Sorry," he stuttered, clearing his throat. and scratching at his cheek with a little too much force. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Y/N yawned and stretched, leaning on her elbow and resting her head on her hands as she regarded him. "How was work? Anything interesting happen?" she asked quietly, her voice still sounding sleepy. She ran a hand through her messy hair, messing it up even more and looking adorably groggy, and he had to admit it was kinda hot.

"Not really. The same as usual just at night, I guess."

A hum left her throat and she closed her eyes briefly. When they opened again, they were glimmering with sleepy tears, making them sparkle beautifully. His heart swelled with so much emotion, he couldn't help but stare at them and sigh.

"Abby is -" She yawned again. "Abby's is in my bed. You can leave her there if you want," she murmured, her voice fading to barely a whisper. "You tired? You look it."

"Yeah."

Thanks to the darkness of the room and the bagginess of his clothes, he had the same general shape of a teddy bear - all soft and curly with big brown eyes. That paired with Y/N sleepy kind of not fully woken up state meant that she whispered, "Come here," and held her arms open invitingly. He hesitated for a moment, before finally deciding that he couldn't turn this opportunity down. He crawled onto the sofa and lay down next to her, putting as much distance in between their bodies as he could, which wasn't a lot.

It would've felt awkward to anyone else, but for the two of them it was natural; comfortable and intimate. Y/N snuggled up next to Mike until her head rested comfortably on his chest and he put an arm around her, pulling her as close as possible.

"Y/N?"

"Hmmm...?" she hummed sleepily, her hands coming up under her chin on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes. He looked at her, mesmerised by the gentle glow of the light emanating from the tv screen behind him, before gazing down at her lips, feeling a blush creep up on his neck. He licked his lips nervously and swallowed thickly before he could think twice about what he was going to say next.

"I like you," he admitted bluntly without any preamble, and his eyes widened slightly as soon as the words were uttered. They flew past the tip of his tongue, begging to leave him, and the truth was out there now. In the open and therefore there was no backing out. "Jesus, that made me sound like a middle schooler."

Y/N blinked several times, processing what he said, before smiling warmly and reaching up and stroking his cheek gently. Mike's eyes fluttered shut at her touch, and he leaned into her hand with a contented sigh. "I like you too," she whispered, her smile growing wider and her thumb brushing along his cheek bone tenderly.

"So, um, should we maybe..." he started awkwardly, unsure where he wanted things to go from there.

"In the morning?"

"Good idea."

They fell asleep almost immediately after saying goodnight, holding each other tightly as they slept in a dreamless slumber. A slumber that was cut short when Abby woke them up with a very loud gasp, waking the both of them up. They rubbed at their eyes with the heels of their palms and looked over at Abby who stared at them with wide eyes.

Cheeks flushing red under his sister's scrutiny, Mike burrowed his face in Y/N's shoulder, who just chuckled and curled her hand into his curly hair.

"What's the time, Abs?"

"7:23" came the reply as she pointed at the digital clock on the wall above the TV.

Mike let out a groan of annoyance and pushed his nose further into Y/N. It seemed that once he got some affection, he didn't want to let go. She didn't seem to mind though and laughed softly, shifting a bit to accommodate him.

Or was it to accommodate Abby?

Because Y/N offered, "Well, it's Sunday and there's enough space for three so wanna join, honey?" and Abby was jumping at the chance, clambering on the couch until the girl was lying entirely on top of her brother like a weighted blanket that got slightly heavier as Tater joined in too and curled up between his knees. He grunted at the unexpected cuddle pile but got used to it quickly.

"What do you want for breakfast when we get up?" Y/N asked Abby, stroking her hair away from her face as the child yawned.

"Pop Tarts?"

"I second that," Mike mumbled.

"Pop Tarts it is then," Y/N agreed with a small nod

Somehow, life had got even better.

#mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #five nights at freddy's

[normal-sea-urchin]

i don't think the 2012 tmnt fandom acknowledges the fact that raph almost killed casey the night they met by almost sticking a sai in his face enough

this thought has occupied my mind long enough for me to come up with a fun little concept: what if raph killed casey jones the night they met?

imagine if raph did kill casey, he let his anger get the best of him and he stabbed him through the face, raph freaks out because 'oh my god i just killed someone' so he runs home, and by the time he gets home and is sitting on the couch with his brothers and april, there's breaking news: "earlier this night just a while ago, 17 year old, Casey Jones was found dead"

and raph starts internally freaking the hell out, cause in the episode the good the bad and the casey jones, when they unmask him, leo is shocked to find out it's a teenager, so raph didn't know he was a teenager either

raph's guilt gets even worse when april starts crying and says that casey was her friend, raph begins to feel sick to his stomach and while the other turtles try to comfort april, raph sneaks off to his room

once in his room, he starts crying, he cries because he killed someone, he cries because he killed a teenage boy, he cries because he killed april's friend and he didn't even know it

about a week or so after this happens, raph starts to notice weird things happening around him, his action figures falling over, a particularly cold gust of wind blowing past him, hearing echos while walking through the sewer, he swears he hears someone calling him but none of his brothers seem to so he decided it's just his imagination, i mean, it's not like it's a ghost or something

but what if it is? raph thinks to himself one day after training, what if it is a ghost? what if he's being haunted by a ghost, who knocks over his tea cups, who hides his sais just before training, who flips over comic pages before he's finished reading them. the fact that april says she feels someone watching them when raph is around doesn't help how he feels about this little theory

his theory isn't solidified until one day when he gets out of the shower and he wipes down the condensation off the mirror to be met with his face, and someone else's, raph yelps and leaps back, hitting his head on the wall

he hears his brothers rush to the other side of the bathroom door before hearing leo ask if he's okay, "uhh yeah im fine, just slipped on some water" leo and donnie walk away but mikey stays just to ask "you sure you're okay bro?" "im fine mikey" raph replies lying through his teeth

aaaaaaand that's all im gonna tell you guys so far, don't wanna spoil too much cause i might actually turn this into a fanfic, later skaters ✌️

update: chapter 1 of the fanfic is here

#tmnt #2012 tmnt #casey jones #2012 casey jones #raphael #2012 raph

[fanby-fckry]

One Man’s Romcom is Another Man’s Psychological Horror

Day 4 of Ace Alastor Week: Date Night

Word Count: 3,062

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Warnings: Second-Hand Embarrassment, Violence, Stabbing, Hand Trauma, Implied/Referenced Stalking

Relationships: Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, you can’t prove it didn’t happen (but it probably didn’t), Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Crack, Crack Treated Somewhat Seriously, Genre Clash, Romantic Comedy, Psychological Horror, Angst and Humor, Angst, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Bad Ending, POV Alternating, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator Times 2, (seriously they both have such a skewed view of things), One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, One-Sided Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Romance-Repulsed Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Deer Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being an Idiot (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Out of Character Vox (Hazbin Hotel), (maybe? idk honestly), Bisexual Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Bisexual Disaster Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Incel Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Misunderstandings, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Conversations

Series: Part 4 of Fanby’s Ace Alastor Week 2024 ( <- Prev || Next -> )

Summary:

*A*

Vox had proposed a business meeting, the following Friday at seven.

To which Alastor replied, “Splendid! It’s a date!”

Vox’s screen went fuzzy. Ha! It was always very entertaining to watch his reactions to Alastor’s attention. Something so small as accepting an invitation to a meeting was enough to elicit a malfunction. What fun!

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him. What an idiot.

*V*

“Szz-seven,” Vox sputtered.

“Splendid!” Alastor replied.

And then he said three words that just about fried Vox’s circuitry.

“It’s a date.”

Vox’s vision blurred around the edges, tunneling until all he could see was Alastor’s smiling face.

He’d fumbled the invitation, made it sound like just another fucking business meeting. And yet, Alastor… Alastor still…

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him fondly. Vox thought he might be in love.

*

Vox asks Alastor out on a date; Alastor says yes to a business meeting. Vox’s romcom quickly turns into Alastor’s psychological horror.

Better on AO3

Author’s Notes:

This was meant to be a comedy of errors and somehow turned into a combination romcom/psychological horror. Oops.

I’m sorry to everyone in the poll who voted for this thinking it was going to be all humor. This just kinda… happened.

Set sometime in the late 60’s or early 70’s.

I’m not sure whether or not I wrote Vox OOC. You guys know I love playing with baby Overlords because it gives me an opportunity to write them as more insecure and less stable, and that’s exactly what I did. DLDR and all that jazz.

The bad ending tag is there because Alastor goes final girl on Vox’s ass. Don’t worry, though, nobody gets seriously physically hurt. Just their feelings and their pride.

Alastor sat, back straight, smile strained, through what was turning out to be one of the most awkward nights of his life. And not even the fun kind of awkward!

There was something called second-hand embarrassment that Alastor did not seem to suffer from, as he typically found the social ineptitudes of others to be hilarious – but this was about as close as he’d ever come to relating to the term.

Vox was making a fool of himself. And rather than being entertained, Alastor just felt… Odd.

Alastor sighed. He wondered where it had all gone wrong. After all, it started off simply enough…

*A*

Vox had proposed a business meeting, the following Friday at seven.

To which Alastor replied, “Splendid! It’s a date!”

Vox’s screen went fuzzy. Ha! It was always very entertaining to watch his reactions to Alastor’s attention. Something so small as accepting an invitation to a meeting was enough to elicit a malfunction. What fun!

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him. What an idiot.

*V*

It was a simple plan. Start a conversation with Alastor. Ask Alastor for a date. Take Alastor out on a date. Real simple.

So naturally, Vox managed to fuck it up.

“Do you wanna… maybe… get dinner sometime?”

Alastor cocked his head to the side. Fuck, why did he have to be so cute? Vox was already tripping over his words, his speakers glitching from the anticipation of finally asking Alastor out. Those little deer-like motions were going to make him short out!

“Dinner?” Alastor sounded vaguely amused.

Vox felt something surge. He wasn’t sure what.

“Yeah, dinner,” Vox repeated. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, feeling less and less sure of himself by the second.

Focus, focus, focus! he berated himself. Stick to the script!

Vox smiled as confidently as he could manage. “There’s this really nice new steakhouse right on the edge of my territory, and they keep a table open for me on Friday nights.”

In reality, Vox had reserved that table three weeks in advance. But the idea that the restaurant respected/feared their new Overlord enough to offer him a standing reservation unprompted sounded much more impressive.

“I could take you as my plus one.”

Alastor hummed and tapped a single red claw against his chin. “And why would I want to be your plus one?” he asked coldly.

Ouch. Good thing Vox didn’t need a heart anymore, because it felt like Alastor had just ripped it out of his chest.

Vox suppressed the instinctual sound effect that came with the feeling and tried to push past it.

“I just thought we could…” his voice came out stilted and wavery. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “We could talk… and stuff…”

Alastor seemed more interested in his own nails than in the conversation.

Fuck, Vox thought. I’m losing him!

Vox laughed to cover his discomfort. “It’d be like… a business meeting… but with food!”

No, no, no!

Alastor’s smile widened. “A business meeting with food,” he parroted.

Kill me, Vox thought. “Yeah. That’s… what I said.” Put me out of my fucking misery.

“Hm.” Alastor paused for an agonizing moment, then shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?”

Vox perked up immediately. “Really?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Alastor laughed. “Yes, really! What time, Friday?”

“Szz-seven,” Vox sputtered.

“Splendid!” Alastor replied.

And then he said three words that just about fried Vox’s circuitry.

“It’s a date.”

Vox’s vision blurred around the edges, tunneling until all he could see was Alastor’s smiling face.

He’d fumbled the invitation, made it sound like just another fucking business meeting. And yet, Alastor… Alastor still…

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him fondly. Vox thought he might be in love.

*A*

Vox insisted on picking Alastor up from his radio tower and driving them both to the restaurant.

Alastor had laughed when he first suggested it, thinking it was a joke. Afterall, it was hardly necessary. Alastor’s powers involved not one but two means of magical transportation that far exceeded the abilities of even the latest and greatest modern automobile.

But Vox wouldn’t budge!

When Alastor asked him why, he’d lowered his big block of a head and muttered something about how it was, ‘more romantic that way.’

Alastor had no idea what that had to do with anything. But in the end, he acquiesced. The whole thing was Vox’s idea, after all. Might as well let him handle the transportation.

*V*

Today was the day. Vox had everything set up. He double and triple checked the reservations – and bribed the waitstaff to play along with his little white lie – cleaned his car, practiced driving the route from Alastor’s tower to the restaurant, and most importantly, bought Alastor flowers.

He’d waffled on the flowers for a while. He didn’t wanna come on too strong – roses felt like more of a third date thing – but he also didn’t want it to seem like he got something cheap or generic.

In the end, he settled on red tulips and rhododendrons – red was definitely Alastor’s favorite color – with some white candytufts to break up all the red.

Vox arrived at Alastor’s tower at 6:26 pm and knocked on the door at 6:29. That would leave two minutes for Alastor to open the door, three minutes for conversation, one for Vox to escort him to the car, and still let them reach the restaurant with a minute to spare.

Alastor opened the door. He was wearing his usual coat and suit – which was fine! Nobody was going to enforce dresscode on the fucking Radio Demon. Vox had dressed up, though. Oh fuck, was he overdressed?

Vox panicked. He thrust the bouquet in Alastor’s direction and said something that sort of resembled the words, “For you.”

Alastor took the bouquet. The bouquet promptly wilted.

“Thank you!” Alastor said, and casually threw the wilted bouquet aside.

“Involuntary phytokinesis!” Alastor explained. “Flowers don’t agree with my powers.”

“Oh.” Vox rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Apology accepted, my friend!” Alastor clapped Vox on the shoulder. “Well, let’s get a move on! Shake a leg, old pal!”

Alastor pushed past Vox and headed towards the car. Vox followed closely behind, resisting the urge to curse under his breath.

This was not how he’d expected things to go.

*A*

The ride to the restaurant was unsettling in a way Alastor couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It wasn’t the automobile or the road or the pedestrians that were the trouble. No, it was the driver. It was Vox.

Something was off about him. How queer.

*V*

They arrived at the restaurant right on schedule. Vox pushed past the crowd of various lesser demons to get to the host station. Alastor watched, clearly in awe of the confidence and power he exuded.

*A*

Vox rudely pushed his way through the demons waiting their turn to speak to the maître d’. Alastor curled his upper lip in disgust, appalled by Vox’s terrible manners.

*V*

Vox flashed the maître d’ a smile. “Table for two.”

“Your usual table awaits, sir,” the maître d’ lied. “Right this way.” He bowed his head, showing Vox and Alastor due respect as Overlords, and led them to their table.

It was the best seat in the house, Vox had made sure of it. Far enough from the kitchens and bathrooms to avoid excess foot traffic or unpleasant smells, close enough to the grand piano to get the full effect of the music without it drowning out their conversation.

The table was set for two, complete with romantic candle light. It was perfect.

Vox pulled out a chair for Alastor – only to have him sit in the opposite seat.

Vox short circuited.

*A*

Vox pulled out a chair for himself. Alastor sat in the seat across from him.

Then, for some unknown reason, Vox froze. Something misfired in that big, square head of his. Alastor laughed.

“I meant to do that,” Vox said, once he regained what little sense he had, and sat down.

“Of course.” Alastor folded his hands in his lap. He smiled as he watched Vox awkwardly fiddle with his silverware.

Vox seemed to be returning to his natural state – insecurities covered by a thin veneer of false confidence which bordered on arrogance, with a deliciously desperate, easily exploitable thirst for attention that couldn’t be hidden no matter what measures the poor man attempted to take.

Good. Whatever that other thing was had started to become… unnerving.

*V*

Vox kept his head down for a while, feigning interest in the silverware while trying to get his shit together.

He was on a date with Alastor. He’d planned the date down to the letter. Nothing was going according to plan.

Vox stole glances at Alastor whenever he dared to lift his gaze.

The candlelight cast Alastor in a warm glow, his eyes a dazzling ruby red. The shadows around him danced – whether from the flickering of the flame or the nature of Alastor’s powers, Vox didn't know. He looked… He looked beautiful.

Vox decided to tell him so.

*A*

With Vox acting more like his usual self, Alastor turned his attention to the menu.

He didn’t suppose they had Sinner meat on the menu – and little more than a cursory glance confirmed his suspicions. Oh well! He was sure to find a cut of meat he’d enjoy.

And besides, he preferred to be selective when it came to sourcing once sentient meat. He’d rather make the kill, himself, or procure it from another cannibal whose tastes he trusted, like Rosie, than order from an establishment he knew next to nothing about.

Speaking of which, the restaurant actually seemed quite tasteful. Live music in the form of a vulpine Sinner playing a grand piano, tasteful decor and fine architecture. Alastor hoped that the food would live up to the atmosphere.

Hm, he’d better get back to the menu. He wouldn’t want to be caught unprepared when their server arrived.

Alastor was just barely aware of the fact that Vox was paying more attention to him than to his own menu, but that really wasn’t any of Alastor’s concern. In fact, it would be rather entertaining to watch Vox scramble to choose a dish last minute.

“You look beautiful,” Vox blurted out, completely unprompted.

Alastor’s ears swiveled in Vox’s direction, but he didn’t deign to take his eyes off the menu. “I look exactly like I always do, Vox.”

“And you’re always beautiful.”

That time, Alastor’s eyes flicked up on their own accord. He felt his ears stand up straighter, and his tail – of all things! – attempt to flip upwards, prevented from doing so by the way he’d tucked it firmly beneath his clothes.

Alastor hummed his acknowledgement and returned to his menu.

So much for Vox being his usual self. What the hell was he on about?

*V*

Vox didn’t need to read the menu. He’d already memorized his order for tonight, down to the last detail. And he’d also chosen Alastor’s. Ordering for your date was a great way to impress them by showing off your confidence and your intimate knowledge of their preferences.

*A*

By the time the server – a lioness Sinner with a sparse mane; Leyonarda, according to her nametag – arrived at their table, Alastor had chosen a drink and an appetizer, and was well on his way to deciding what he would have for the main course.

Vox had apparently also decided, despite barely glancing at the menu. Well, if he had a standing reservation, perhaps he already had a signature order.

Vox gave the waitress his own order, which Alastor didn’t care to pay much thought to, and then did something that caught not only Alastor’s attention, but his ire.

“And he’ll have the-”

“Ha!” Alastor interrupted. “I’m quite capable of ordering for myself, Vox.” So he did.

After the waitress left, Alastor sat, fuming.

The fucking audacity on the man. What had possessed him to think he could make decisions on Alastor’s behalf?

For something as mundane as ordering an appetizer, perhaps Alastor should’ve let it slide. But Vox had been acting strangely and lacking manners all evening.

Now, Vox had always been a bit strange – Alastor rarely wasted time on people that weren’t – and had generally been letting his new Overlord status go to his head when it came to interactions with the masses, but this… This was something else.

Alastor glared daggers at Vox from across the table. Vox wouldn’t meet Alastor’s eye in return. At least he had the decency to be ashamed of himself.

*V*

So much for impressing Alastor by ordering for him. Vox had put so much effort into learning Alastor’s non-cannibalistic eating habits, too!

Not to mention the fact that Alastor had had all of ten minutes to look over the menu while Vox had been studying it for weeks.

And now Alastor had the nerve to be angry with him? What the fuck?

Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. Everything was blowing up in his face. At first, Vox had blamed himself, but now that he’d had time to think about it, really, the problem was Alastor.

Alastor had agreed to go on a date with Vox, and then rejected him at every turn.

Alastor had nitpicked Vox’s choice to drive them to the restaurant, then clammed up on the drive over, practically ignoring Vox the whole way there.

Alastor had destroyed the flowers Vox put so much time and effort into choosing. Thrown them away like trash. And he’d snubbed all of Vox’s attempts to be romantic since.

Alastor had played hot and cold from the very beginning, smiling and laughing and being the first one to call it a date! And now he was giving Vox the cold shoulder?

Talk about mixed signals.

*A*

Vox was giving off mixed signals. One minute he seemed subdued and apologetic, the next he was making some comment or another about Alastor.

Alastor’s appearance, Alastor’s attitude, Alastor’s choice to order his own Goddamned food.

Alastor had no idea what had triggered this shift in Vox’s behavior, but he had half a mind to start taking that mechanical head of his apart in hopes of finding out. Or simply to change the channel from inane commentary and false guilt to screams of pain and cries for mercy.

Either option sounded more appealing than sitting here and enduring Vox’s rapid decline in intellect.

The only thing stopping him was that – tonight’s oddities aside – Alastor considered Vox an ally, perhaps even a friend.

Because Vox’s television broadcasts used radio waves, his empire relied heavily on Alastor’s domain. Alastor had used this as leverage for countless favors, and would continue to do so until Vox outgrew either his usefulness or his entertainment value.

Alastor could always rely on Vox as a source of amusement when that ever-creeping sense of boredom threatened to consume him, and he enjoyed pushing Vox’s physical and metaphorical buttons to no end.

It wasn’t much of a stretch to say that Alastor usually enjoyed Vox’s company. Or that he was hesitant to end their working relationship over one night of… whatever this was.

So, Alastor endured.

And that was how Alastor wound up here, feeling a bit like he should be clawing his own skin off and a lot like he should be flaying Vox’s with one of the handily provided steak knives.

And doing neither because he was waiting to see how the night would play out. Waiting to see if he would get the Vox he used to know back at the end of it.

Leyonarda returned with their drinks. Vox drank freely. Alastor didn’t touch his.

Instead, he rested his hand on the table, tapping his claws against the wood. His skin prickled and itched. His legs were restless. His ears were still standing alert, swiveling and twitching in reaction to the sounds around them.

Since arriving in Hell, there was a part of Alastor’s brain that he’d done his best to ignore. A primal, animalistic part of him that had come free with this cursed cervine form. A prey instinct.

And currently, it was screaming.

Alastor’s claws drummed against the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. And his heart matched it beat for beat.

Time slowed.

Vox reached across the table.

Alastor stabbed Vox’s hand.

Vox let out a staticky hiss of pain. His hand was stabbed clean through with the steak knife Alastor had been eyeing. Pinned to the table, just inches away from where Alastor’s hand rested.

Alastor’s bones began to creak. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Vox’s wound was sparking. Alastor’s left hand was still holding the knife. Fortunately for him – though, unfortunately for Vox – the handle was an insulator.

“Me?” Vox all but screamed. “What the fx-ff-fuck are you doing?”

“Enforcing a well-established rule regarding touch,” Alastor informed him. His antlers grew heavier on his head and feedback crackled in both his voice and the air around them.

Somewhere, someone who was not Vox screamed. Then another. Then another. Dishes crashed to the ground, tables were flipped, demons were trampled. A cacophony of terror as the other patrons fled from the sight of two Overlords on the precipice of battle.

“The rule…” Vox’s mouth hung open dumbly for a moment before being replaced by a ‘technical difficulties’ screen.

When his face returned, it was distorted with lines of static. “The fz-fx-fucking fi-i-ive foot rule?”

Alastor twisted the knife. “That’s the one!” he said, aiming for cheery and landing on hysterical.

Vox slammed his non-injured hand down on the table. “You ssz-st-st-STILL wanna use thx-the FIVE FOOT RULE?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Bec-cx-cause we’re on a DATE!”

Alastor’s feedback spiked, screeching with the voices of every Soul that’d met their end at Alastor’s hands. For a moment, Vox’s scream was among them.

Alastor removed the knife from Vox’s hand and laid it down on the table. He reigned in his static the best that he could.

Alastor turned away from Vox. “Forget tonight ever happened.”

“Alastor-”

Alastor turned his head one-hundred and eighty degrees and all the static he’d held back returned to his voice. “Forget it.”

Alastor left the restaurant. He didn’t see Vox again for a long while.

End Notes:

Usually, I leave end notes as an AO3 exclusive perk, but these were very important end notes.

The flowers are foreshadowing. Vox doesn’t know Victorian flower language and picks them on looks alone, but they’re actually indicative of what’s to come.

Red Tulips -> Declaration of Love (Vox’s intentions for the date)

Candytufts -> Indifference (Alastor’s reaction to most of the date)

Rhododendrons -> Danger (shit’s about to go down)

There was another detail that I couldn’t manage to fit which was that the restaurant was meant to be called Carnivora, as in the order of animals Carnivora, and is staffed entirely by carnivore Sinners. Vox either didn’t notice or figured that since Alastor’s a cannibal, it wouldn’t bother him. But that was definitely part of Alastor’s innate sense of danger here.

#acealastorweek2024 #fanby’s fuckery #fanby’s fics #hazbin hotel #alastor #vox hazbin hotel #radiostatic #onewaybroadcast #aroace alastor #asexual alastor #aromantic alastor

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober Day 20: Found Family

Day 20! This one was very fun to write, and is a continuation of Day 16 because I can <3 Bruise angst my beloved and I really dug into it in this batch. You guys will see the fruits of that labor in a couple hours.

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.3k

“Are we brothers?”

The question caught Cole a bit off-guard, and the training dummy plowed straight into his arm when he stopped paying attention to it. He rubbed at his arm, glancing over to Jay as the other boy stood on the steps with his hands on his hips. Jay looked troubled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and hands clenching and unclenching. They had been together long enough for Cole to recognize the signs of Jay’s anxiety.

It was a weird question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jay looked down at the ground, “say my parents just called me and I called you my brother, would you be mad at me?”

Cole raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t think that they would’ve been close enough or spent enough time together to call each other brothers. Although, now that he thought about it, they fought at least once a day over the stupidest of things that could be solved in an instant; he would put Jay in a headlock and give him noogies all the time; every time there would be a chore that Wu would give them they would start fighting over it like screeching cats until one of them eventually had to do it, but at the end of the day they would still sit on the couch and play video games until Jay was knocked out with his head on Cole’s shoulder and the earth ninja would have to carry him to bed.

He never had a brother, and he knew Jay didn’t have one either. So how could either of them know what brothers were supposed to be?

“No,” he said honestly, “I wouldn’t be mad. Why?”

“I, uh, may have just done that.”

Figures. Jay wouldn’t have been asking him otherwise. “Do you think we’re brothers?”

Jay rocked on his heels. “I mean, I don’t have any. But I think that if I did have a brother, I would want it to be you.” He looked panicked for a second, probably worried about Cole’s reaction. “Is that weird? Oh that’s probably really weird I’m sorry-”

“Woah!” Cole said, stepping forward and taking his friend (brother) by the shoulders. “Hey, now. Calm down, Jay, I already said that I wasn’t mad. I-I’m really flattered actually.”

“Really?”

“Really. And hey, I’m happy to call you my brother any day of the week.”

Cole cringed in his waiting room chair as the memory finished playing in his head, the plastic seat hard and uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time he had been here, and it wouldn’t be the last, but you would think that after all the trips they’ve had to make to the emergency room they would’ve started to bring seat cushions for the long waits in-between. However, it was the first time that he had been alone in the waiting room since he was a small child and his mom was sick. He couldn’t say that it brought back good memories to be back here.

His mind kept flashing back to just a few minutes ago, watching as his brother convulsed on the gurney in terror, fighting against the nurses trying to hold him down. Cole was angry, insisting to the nurse that he needed to get to Jay, and eventually he stormed past her despite her saying that only family was allowed behind the scenes.

Jay was his brother; it didn’t matter whether there was a stupid piece of paper to prove it or not.

His little brother had been so scared, terrified of the strangers’ voices connected to faces that he couldn’t see with their hands all over him, but especially the oxygen mask that they had strapped to his face. Cole pushed down the anger that threatened to bubble over, choosing instead to focus on getting his brother to calm down so they could treat his stab wound.

Kissing his forehead well after Jay had gone back to sleep, Cole watched as his brother was wheeled back to somewhere that he couldn’t follow just quite yet, trying to channel the natural patience that came with his element.

“Excuse me?” a nurse called from the door, and Cole picked his head up to look at her. “Are you here for Jay Walker?”

“Yes, I am.” Cole said, getting up from his chair and feeling his back pop as he did so.

“Are you family—”

“He is my brother,” Cole said shortly; part of him felt bad, but the other part didn’t care, “and if you try and keep me from going to see him just because it’s not on record, I will have to ask you to step aside.”

The nurse looked terrified. “O-Of course, you may go see him now. He’s in the third room on the right.”

Cole thanked her, and she stepped aside to let him pass through the door. Walking down the hallway brought back memories from years ago, and Cole could feel himself continuing to shut down with every step he took, and this wasn’t even the hospital where she passed. He couldn’t imagine how strong the memories would be if he ever went back; all it had taken was one trip and a meltdown before the team unanimously agreed to never visit unless they absolutely had to, and if they did then Cole would stay home.

But what happened to his mom wasn’t going to happen to Jay.

The door opened easily, making no sound as he stepped into the room, and Cole sucked in a breath when he saw his brother lying on the bed.

Jay was pale, making his auburn hair stand out against the stark white of the pillow. There was a cannula on his face instead of a full mask, and Cole was grateful that there wouldn’t be another meltdown. Beeping unsteadily, the heart monitor stood alone in the corner, opposite of the IV line hooked into Jay’s arm. The room was as blank as any other room that they had ever been in, and Cole was grateful for the bare walls. Her room hadn’t been barren because of how much time they spent in it.

Standing next to the bed, Cole brought the room’s one chair with him, its legs scraping against the floor with a sound that made him cringe. Making sure that Jay stayed asleep, Cole sat, taking his brother’s hand in his own and starting to play with the blue ninja’s fingers.

“Would it kill you to go on one mission without giving me a heart attack?” Cole asked, getting no answer other than a soft wheeze. The others were still chasing down the bad guys, Cole having been designated as the one to take Jay to the hospital after taking the knife to the gut.

It was almost too common at this point. Jay never used to act so recklessly, throwing himself in front of every possible danger as if he couldn’t die. Recently, there were too many missions ending with someone taking him to the hospital, or bringing him to the medical bay on the Bounty to get treatment well into the wee hours of the night. He knew that the others were starting to notice, trying to intervene before Jay could throw himself to the wolves so he would stay safe. 

He and Nya had spent too many lengthy conversations about it. Cole knew something was wrong, but he didn’t even know where to start pushing to find out what it was.

Groaning, Jay cracked open his eyes. “Cole?”

“Yeah, bud,” Cole answered, standing back up and making sure that Jay could see him.

Jay squinted, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. “What happened?”

“You got stabbed. I took you to the hospital and you’ve got to stay here for the next couple days to make sure your stitches and whatnot don’t get infected.”

“Oh,” Jay closed his eyes, leaning into Cole’s hand when it cupped his cheek, “where are the others?”

Cole bit his lip, and he really hoped that the rest of the team wouldn’t make a liar out of him. “They’re on the way, they should be here soon. Do you need anything?”

Licking his lips, Jay brought his hand up to his face, and Cole saw how he relaxed when he shot a small bolt of lightning between his fingers. Did he really think that Cole would’ve let the hospital staff put the vengestone back on? “Is there any water?”

There was a small pitcher and some cups on the other table. “Yeah, I’ll get you some.”

Picking it up was a bit of a hassle with his new hands; he kept forgetting that it really hadn’t been that long since he was revived. You would think that would be something you would remember, but it was just another day in Ninjago when Cole was concerned. Filling the cup to about halfway, Cole brought it back to Jay, helping him to hold it when the blue ninja’s hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Actually, Jay couldn’t stop shaking. “Are you cold? Do you need another blanket?”

“It’s probably the blood loss,” Jay said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong, “don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Jay, you’re my brother. If you need a blanket then I can get you a blanket—”

“I said I’m fine, Cole,” Jay said quickly, and Cole was surprised to hear his brother’s voice crack mid-sentence. “Stop worrying about it, please.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cole helped his brother sit up enough to bury his face into Cole’s shoulder, resting a hand on the blue ninja’s back while Jay’s fist latched onto his uniform. Kissing the top of his head, Cole sighed, remembering that Jay was probably a little loopy from the pain meds and that he would need to be gentle. “Bluebell, it’s fine. I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t want to do it. What’s got you so worked up?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He sniffled, and Cole could feel tears start to soak into his gi. “For getting hurt and making you take me to the hospital and I know I’ve had to go here a lot recently and I know it’s probably super expensive but I can get a second job if I need to since it’s not fair that it has to come out of everyone’s paychecks—”

And Jay kept rambling, words flying so fast that Cole could only catch every fifth word, but he didn’t interrupt his brother. Clearly, Jay had been bottling this up for a long time, and Cole knew that if he wanted to get a rational explanation from Jay then he would have to listen to the panicked word vomit version first. It was just how Jay worked.

Rubbing his back, Cole stayed quiet and nodded when he was supposed to and hummed whenever Jay “wanted” a response. It took almost ten minutes for Jay’s words to finally run out, and he slumped against the black ninja, exhausted. Cole kissed the back of his head, tucking Jay closer to his chest and laying his chin on Jay’s crown. “Thank you,” Jay said softly, shivering.

“You’re welcome,” Cole said, “now I’m going to get you that blanket, and you’re going to repeat everything you just told me but at a quarter of the speed. Or you’re going to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Helping Jay to lay back down against the pillows, Cole ruffled his hair and gave him a small smile before leaving the room to try and find a nurse. There was one right outside of their room who looked friendly enough. He could’ve just used the call button, but he knew Jay, and he knew that the younger male would appreciate a couple minutes to himself after having a breakdown.

“Excuse me?” Cole said, and the nurse turned around. “Are there any of the warmed blankets left?”

She led him to the heater and grabbed one, folding it up neatly and handing it over. Thanking her, Cole made his way back to Jay’s hospital room, but not before pulling his phone out and dialing Nya’s number to update them on the situation.

“Hello? Cole?”

Shifting the blanket in his hands, Cole smushed the phone between his cheek and his shoulder. “Hey Nya. Are you guys on your way?”

“Yeah, we’re in the car right now. We had to make a quick pitstop to patch Kai up but we should be there soon. How’s Jay?”

“Fine,” Cole sighed, “you might have a little trouble getting back here. They wouldn’t let me go through until Jay started having a meltdown.”

“What? Why was he having a meltdown?”

He reached Jay’s hospital room, so Cole lowered his voice. “They put an oxygen mask on him and then slapped on some vengestone. He started panicking pretty bad but I got him to calm down. No one got hurt.” Too badly, anyway.

Nya growled on the other end. “I don’t care if they were hurt or not, I’ll maim them myself.”

“There’s no need for that,” Cole said, “you guys are gonna have enough trouble getting to his room since they’re only letting family in. Don’t cause any more.”

“I’ll cause as much as I want to,” Nya paused, and Cole knew that she was thinking, “but fine. We’ll be there shortly.”

She hung up, and Cole stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Opening the door to Jay’s room, Cole noticed that the blue ninja had found the remote and turned on the tv to some cartoon channel, and now the blue ninja was fixated on watching the goofy events unfold on screen.

“Jay?” Cole asked, not wanting to startle him. Jay shushed him, still watching, and Cole chuckled at the rare focused expression on his brother’s face.

Silently, Cole made his way to the bed and climbed into it next to Jay, spreading the still-warm blanket out over the both of them. Jay leaned into his big brother’s side, yawning, and Cole wrapped an arm around Jay’s waist while being careful of his stitches.

If Jay wanted to watch cartoons for the rest of the day, then Cole could wait for their conversation.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #finn's writing #ninjago cole #whumptober day 20 #whumptober 2023

[silverbladexyz]

Hiii! Welcome back! This request is so cute and fluffy. I haven’t watched Naruto yet, but I did some research on Sakura’s powers and I hope I wrote it alright! Btw this is hcs

BSD Manga spoilers below!

The images used are not mine. They belong to their original owners

TW: Mentions of fighting, stabbing

Tecchou and Jouno with a Fem!reader that’s the Hunting Dogs’ doctor

Tecchou:

-I feel like Tecchou rarely gets injured on missions. Like, this guy is the strongest member of the Hunting Dogs, I don’t think a little scratch would be enough to stop him

-So let’s say that after he finished his mission, he was just about to head back to headquarters, when unfortunately a criminal snuck up on him and stabbed him in the back. Luckily, Tecchou was able to capture the criminal, but unluckily for him he now had a serious wound that needed treatment

-Tecchou was originally going to treat it himself and eat some of his food combinations, but Jouno was nagging him to go to the clinic, because the ‘blood smelled gross’. Tachihara too, but because he didn’t want Tecchou to get an infected wound and end up sick

-So he had no choice but to go to the infirmary. And that was when he met you

-You were very kind and patient while you were treating him. The wound did turn out to be infected, but you merely held your palm towards it. A green light shone, and the next moment his wound was gone

-Tecchou was kind of surprised, but you explained to him that it was your ability. He nodded, but he didn’t question the limits of your ability

-It was a few weeks later when Tecchou was sent to the infirmary again, this time even more wounded than before. Even Teruko was convinced that he might fall into a coma

-However, you had healed him up in a matter of seconds. This sparked curiosity in Tecchou, and soon he was asking you questions about your ability. Afterall, not all ability users with the power to heal could heal several deep wounds at once

-Over time, Tecchou finds himself enjoying your company a lot more. You were very easygoing and enjoyable to talk to, and you always managed to heal Tecchou up successfully

-He even offers you some of his food combinations. You don’t accept it, however, you do give him suggestions of healthier foods that had the same colour and that went great with each other. Tecchou took you up on your advice, and actually found himself enjoying the new food combinations that you gave him

-Whenever he gets injured, even if he could treat it himself, Tecchou still decides to go to you. Jouno teases him for this, but does Tecchou give a damn? Nope

-It wasn’t long before he felt... strange around you. Whenever you two interacted, he would feel nervous and his heart beat so fast that he thought there was something wrong with him

-Literally asks you for advice on what was happening. Then he learns that he has a crush on you

-Probably wouldn’t confess to you for a long time, if it weren’t for Jouno asking him to get it over and done with, since his fast heartbeat always annoyed his heterochromatic-haired coworker

-So after a few days, he finally confesses to you in the infirmary. It was after you healed him, when he actually holds your hand and looks at you in your eyes

-You thought that there was something wrong with your face, but once he confesses, you immediately accept. You had grown fond of Tecchou, and knowing that he felt the same way made you incredulously happy

-Cue Jouno taking pictures in the background for blackmail xD

Jouno:

-Jouno probably doesn’t get hurt a lot too, since his ability somehow helps his wounds close over and he’s as good as new

-But let’s say that his ability was copied for hours by a criminal ability user that he had to fight. It wasn’t easy, and by the end of it Jouno was bleeding nearly everywhere

-Because he doesn’t have his ability for a little while, he had no choice but to go to the infirmary

-Jouno was expecting to be kept there for a while, but what he didn’t expect was for you to hold your hand over his wounds and feel them close over quickly

-When the entire thing was done, Jouno was slightly surprised, but not for long. Afterall, you were a doctor for the Hunting Dogs, and that required exceptional skills

-Jouno found you nice to talk to. Sure, even though you could be too nice sometimes, you aren’t a pushover and knew when to stand your ground. Plus your medical knowledge and your ability made you an all the more formidable opponent

-He teased you a bit sometimes, but you got along well with him. Jouno always went to you whenever he got injured because he somehow liked the idea of you being the only person who was allowed to heal him

-Sometimes he would purposely make Tecchou stab him more often, only so that he could be treated by you <3

-It was quite a long time before he started to have these weird reactions whenever he saw you. Such as nervousness, a fast heartbeat, and all those tell-tale signs of him having a crush on you

-Jouno is in denial for the longest time. During this time, he might even try to distance himself from you. But give him some more time, and he’ll soon come to terms with his feelings

-When he confesses, he is quite simple. He just says ‘go out with me’ when you finish healing his wounds

-You nearly stumbled, and you thought that you heard him incorrectly. But Jouno just smiled genuinely, and repeated what he had said

-You were nearly lost for words, but you accepted eagerly, your heart beating the quickest you had ever felt it beat 

-But if only you knew how fast Jouno’s heart was beating for you <333

@ashthemadwriter​ @pixyys​ @pianotross​ @the-mourning-stars​ @i-just-like-goats​

#Hilise's fans 🌺! #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #tecchou x reader #jouno x reader #bsd fluff #silverbladexyz

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99

The Prophecy Of Imortal Fire 3

"You what?!" Elias practically yelled. "He Stabbed me!" "Yeah like 10 years ago! Give or take! Why would he lie now?! Listen, I've met his father. Not a nice guy, and not easy to beat in a fight. Even if Alistar was doing this for his father, he wouldn't have any chance against him in combat!" Ella argued. "Ella... he almost killed you! He kidnapped children, and your father.... he killed me for a hot second! He called you names, gave you trauma, hurt you! Broke you! How can you trust that?" Elias asked. "I don't! I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, but right now we don't have a choice!" Ella answered. Eli looked over at Alistar, glaring before his eyes softened. He sighed. "Fine. He can't wield a sword with a broken arm anyways," he muttered. "Youd.. be surprised...." Alistar replied, earning some looks from the group. "Oh.. god, no! I learned my lesson! Besides i-...." alistar trailed off as he glanced at Ella and Eli's kids in the other room. "I wouldn't take a parent from their kids," he muttered. "No, but you'd take a kid from her parents," Loreley spat. "... I'm sorry," Alistar spoke. Eli scoffed. "Dont say it to us," he muttered, glancing at Ella. Alistar looked down, embarrassed. Eli rolled his eyes. "Coward," he muttered before walking out of the building. Everyone followed. Except for Ella. Ella hesitated. "We were friends you know...." she stated. ".. I know," Alistar replied. "What in the world happened to you after we stopped contacting one another that day?" Ella asked. "Too much to fit into one conversation....." He whispered before looking at her. "I'm sorry. What I did was selfish, and wrong, and shitty. You didn't deserve that.... and fucking hell you are NOT fat. You never have been. And if I could go back in time, calling you that would be the first thing I changed," Alistar ranted. Ella kept a distance between the two. "I did what I did because I was in love with you....but my father taught me that love was weak.... and seeing you choose someone over me... broke me... and it reinstated the fact that love was weakness.... so I thought I could marry you by force..... but i..... I shouldn't have thought that," Alistar stated, tears brimming his eyes again. "Alistar.. I wasn't in love with you. You were my friend.... how could you have possibly thought that doing what you did would change that?" Ella asked, crossing her arms. "I don't know," his voice cracked. "I don't know what I was thinking.... I just made choices and i...... God I regret every single one," Alistar muttered. "I'm not gonna ask for your forgiveness.. cause I realize its too late.... but please.... don't let my mistakes create a leeway for my father to come in and Destroy the life You've built," Alistar stated. Ella stood there for a few moments before walking closer to him and hugging him. "I can't forgive what youve done.... not yet at least..... but.... I believe in the fact that you're telling the truth," Ella sighed. Alistar let out a breath. "Thank you...... I'm so so sorry.... I-I didnt..... I shouldn't've..... I'm sorry," he all but whispered as he tried not to cry.

........ The group as a whole stood in the dining area, a giant map on the table. "So if we can destroy his forces from the inside, we can possibly win... but how are we gonna get in?" Loreley asked. "Theres a passageway through the dungeons. I found it when I was 10 when he locked me in my cell after breaking a vase. I made it myself from a small hole in the wall," Alistar replied, pointing the area out to the group. Mia glanced at him. "How many times did he put you down there for you to make an entire crawlspace?" She asked. Alistar raised an eyebrow as he calculated. "Uh.... maybe 5 times a week. 2 if I stayed out of trouble," He answered. The group looked at him. ".. what?" He asked. "Okay, so we'll go through there. Do you have armor?" Ella asked, turning to alistar. "No. Just this," he stated as he gestured to his shirt and pants. "Hm okay. Elias will fir you for some armor later," Ella stated. "What so he can stab me with it?" Eli asked. "Elias," Ella scolded. Eli sighed. "Fine. We'll do it now so I can get it over with. Cmon," Alistar gulped as he followed Eli outside.

"Lose the shirt," Eli stated as he picked up some already made armor. "P-pardon?" Alistar asked. "The armor won't fit right if your measurements aren't correct and your shirt is too baggy," Elias stated, an unamused look on his face. "O-okay but can't we just-" "Oh my god do you want me to help or not?" Eli asked, clearly frustrated. Alistar sighed. Eli rolled his eyes, turning to grab a measuring stick. His eyes widened at the sight of all the scared on Alistar's back and chest, blending into smaller ones on his arms. "Woah.... what... happened?" Eli asked, almost forgetting what alistar did. Almost. Alistar sighed as he hung his shirt over a chair in the hut. "After my mom died, my dad thought waking me up by having people whip me was a wonderful idea... and when he and I dueled, he would stab me," Alistar replied. Elias' eyebrows furrowed. "You're really messed up, aren't you?" Eli asked. Alistar chuckled. "Yeah... I am...." Eli gave a small genuine smile before walking to work on Alistar's armor.

[ech0lesss]

hey could you possibly write some headcanons for bob and a reader who’s a trained assassin/ weapons specialist?

so bob tries y’know stab stab, but then the tables get turned and the reader just whips out a weapon and bob gets backed into a corner and is just in complete confusion and slight amazement and stuff i guess?

idk if that makes sense at all but the idea of it just sounds awesome. Thank you and have an awesome day/night!

totally love this idea! just kinda made the reader a hunter who keeps a bunch of guns, yk! just called the reader a "weapons specialist" because they aren't implied to be a hunter, they just keep a bunch of guns and stuff (that they know how to use)

lets also pretend that bob either doesn't know that he can’t take damage or that he actually can get damaged (bro has god mode on 💀)

Content: gn reader, long headcanons, some swearing, brief stalking behaviour (subtle)

Not proofread.

Bob Velseb x Weapons Specialist Reader

You were just having a lazy saturday night, sitting on your couch and recovering from the long week you just had.

And then the power in your house had went out. You sighed and head downstairs to turn the power back on, and after you did, you turned around to be greeted by a devil.

You were shocked, and immediately kicked him in the stomach on reflex, hard enough to leave him stunned for a second as you ran up the stairs

You quickly ran to your room and locked the door, grabbing a rifle from your drawer and pointing it towards the door, also keeping check of your surroundings

After a few seconds you could hear footsteps climbing up the stairs, making their way to the top of the staircase, as doors creaked open

Finally he made his way over to your bedroom, jiggling the handle until he realized it was locked. Which let him know that you were hiding in there.

After a moment of silence, the door had been stabbed through with a kitchen knife. Carving through it, he made a hole big enough to fit his hand through and unlock the door.

Opening the door slowly to see the barrel of a shotgun staring right back at him, you crouched down on the floor behind it, his face completely faltered.

(bob's an idiot for choosing this house to rob lol)

"Step back." You said firmly. He seemed to not expect this, and obliged, taking a step back.

You proceeded to lead him to the front door, pointing a shotgun barrel at him the whole way.

When you actually got to the front door, you told him to get the fuck out of your house and kicked his ass out.

He decided to run away from your house, he was actually scared.

And when he finally got to a quiet space and calmed down, he tried to process what had happened

He'd never found someone who could actually fight back like that, kinda amazed by you.

Time went by and the thought of you lingered in his mind.

The thought of going back there roamed in the back of his mind. Should he have? He didn’t know. But he needed to find out more about you.

You just stuck out from everyone else he had seen. You were unique.

And so he managed to track you down.. and stalk you.

Yeah, might not’ve been his first idea, but he wasn’t gonna show up at your house and ask to know more about you.

It wasn’t exactly stalking, he just studied you, and where you liked to go. Not like he watched you through a window or anything.

And when the time was right, he approached you.

You were just in a coffee shop, minding your own business, when he approached you and striked up a conversation.

It was mostly small talk, about the weather and such, but later on more and more you started seeing this guy at the same coffee shop.

You learned his name was “Bob.” You seemed to like him, he was kind and respectful. So one day you invited him over after a few months of knowing each other

He gladly accepted and followed you home, doing.. whatever, with you.

He enjoyed his time around you. You both had seemed to grow a liking to each other, and pretty much became best friends.

So one day he walked up to your room to grab something for you, and got a little.. nosy.

He wanted to be respectful, not to look in any of your personal things, but to just look at your room interior.

And, he had to admit, he was sorry, but he opened your nightstand drawer to see a pistol.. right there.

He just looked at it for a split second. Closed it after. A bit embarrassed for looking through your things, but he just got nosy.

He wasn’t all that surprised you had a pistol in your drawer after that time, but later on when you show off your weapons to him one night, he’s actually intimidated by the amount you had.

I’m not gonna specify how many, but let’s just say it’s.. a lot.

When you two get together, he does like to admire your collection sometimes. Sometimes he even brings them along on hunts, if you let him.

If you don’t, well, he probably steals one anyway. Sometimes.

He does like to test them out randomly in the woods or something.

He wants to try every one of them out, so if you let him, he will take various items with him.

He’ll probably convince you to come with him too. IF your willing to. He might push it just a little bit but he’ll let go if you make it seem like your not changing your mind.

If you do? He’s ecstatic. Your probably gonna be a runaway murderer like him now.

Yeah, no one’s safe now.

I hope you liked these lol, sorry it took a little while. I really enjoyed this!

#bob velseb #bob velseb x reader #bob velseb headcanons #spooky month #spooky month x reader #echo writes

[mariana-oconnor]

The Six Napoleons pt 1

What's better than five Napoleons?

It was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, to look in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to Sherlock Holmes...

Confirmation of what I was talking about last week. Watson's being nicer about Lestrade in these stories because they're friends now. Love this for them.

On this particular evening Lestrade had spoken of the weather and the newspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffing thoughtfully at his cigar. Holmes looked keenly at him. “Anything remarkable on hand?” he asked. “Oh, no, Mr. Holmes, nothing very particular.”

Lestrade doing the tried and true 'be pensive and silent, then claim nothing's wrong in order to indicate something is terribly wrong' method of talking to friends here. Very British. A+

“Exactly. That's what I said. But then, when the man commits burglary in order to break images which are not his own, that brings it away from the doctor and on to the policeman.”

OK, everybody please lay your bets on whether the word 'monomaniac' is going to be used in this story.

"The assistant had left the front shop for an instant when he heard a crash, and hurrying in he found a plaster bust of Napoleon, which stood with several other works of art upon the counter, lying shivered into fragments."

Alright, so far so vandalism, I guess. But I do wonder who in early 1900s London was buying and displaying a plaster bust of Napoleon I in their home. Clearly enough people that there are many of them around. But why? Was there some sort of weird Napoleon fashion at the time? I can't imagine him being particularly popular in England even 80 years after his death.

Why are there so many busts of Napoleon around? Who is buying them? Are they some sort of comedy novelty item?

Ho ho ho, here's the guy we fought against, let's stick a silly moustache on him and draw a pair of glasses around his eyes?

"This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and his house is full of books, pictures, and relics of the French Emperor."

No, apparently there are just... Napoleon groupies... hanging around.

"One of these he placed in his hall in the house at Kennington Road, and the other on the mantelpiece of the surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr. Barnicot came down this morning he was astonished to find that his house had been burgled during the night, but that nothing had been taken save the plaster head from the hall."

I fear the other is not long for this world, either. My dude. RIP Napoleon bust.

"...the broken pieces of his second bust were strewn all over the room. It had been smashed to atoms where it stood."

"Considering how many hundreds of statues of the great Emperor must exist in London, it is too much to suppose such a coincidence as that a promiscuous iconoclast should chance to begin upon three specimens of the same bust.”

No, seriously tho... why are there so many statues of Napoleon I in London? So weird.

"On the other hand, this Morse Hudson is the purveyor of busts in that part of London, and these three were the only ones which had been in his shop for years."

That does make me feel better about this whole thing.

“There are no limits to the possibilities of monomania,” I answered.

Ooooh... ooh oooh ooh. So close. Does 'monomania' count? I did say 'monomaniac'.

“That won't do, my dear Watson,” said Holmes, shaking his head; “for no amount of idée fixe would enable your interesting monomaniac to find out where these busts were situated.”

Drink!

"You will remember, Watson, how the dreadful business of the Abernetty family was first brought to my notice by the depth which the parsley had sunk into the butter upon a hot day."

How heavy was that parsley? Surely it would float as the butter melted below it?

Or did they stab the stalk right in there like they were planting a tiny green flag on the newly discovered Butterland?

The development for which my friend had asked came in a quicker and an infinitely more tragic form than he could have imagined. [...] “Come instantly, 131, Pitt Street, Kensington. — “Lestrade.”

I know that he means that the think Lestrade is summoning them to is going to be tragic, but this reads as though the very concept of getting a telegram from Lestrade is the true tragedy.

No. 131 was one of a row, all flat-chested, respectable, and most unromantic dwellings.

Watson, I get that being horny on main is one of your Things™️but why are you talking about the houses' boobs? I don't think houses have mammary glands, my man, and as a medical doctor, even if you're not practising anymore, you really should be aware of that.

I guess this just means that they don't have any bay windows or protrusions on their fronts, and they're just boxy, flat frontages, but what a word to choose.

I guess Baker Street must have big naturals or something.

I can't believe I just typed that with my own two hands. But I'm leaving it there. if I have to think it, you will read it.

“It's the Napoleon bust business again,” said Lestrade. “You seemed interested last night, Mr. Holmes, so I thought perhaps you would be glad to be present now that the affair has taken a very much graver turn.”

I see what you did there, Lestrade.

"Why any burglar should take such a thing passes my understanding, for it was only a plaster cast and of no real value whatever."

So why do you have it? WHY DO ALL THESE PEOPLE HAVE PLASTER BUSTS OF NAPOLEON?

Wasn't he, like, an enemy of the empire? Wasn't it England that imprisoned him on St Helena? What is up with all of this?

"Stepping out into the dark I nearly fell over a dead man who was lying there. I ran back for a light, and there was the poor fellow, a great gash in his throat and the whole place swimming in blood."

Well, that's a situation right out of a horror film.

I like this guy. I hope he doesn't turn out to be the murderer.

It was evidently taken by a snap-shot from a small camera. It represented an alert, sharp-featured simian man with thick eyebrows, and a very peculiar projection of the lower part of the face like the muzzle of a baboon.

Oh no, are we now doing degeneration, Watson? Must we always play around the fringes of eugenics? Watson, please. Must we make the ape comparisons? Must we?

We were doing so well at being nice to Lestrade as well.

"Well, I was the only journalist in the stand, and my journal the only one that had no account of it, for I was too shaken to write it. And now I'll be too late with a murder done on my own doorstep.”

My dude, I love you.

#THe Six Napoleons #Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #long post

[cinnamon-bunni]

omg not me finally getting around to posting this. I was just about done with this for a while now but kept forgetting to finish the last paragraph and post so. here i am now. finally posting it lmao

once again this is made for @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense's job switcheroo au!! i really hope i did your characters justice, i just absolutely love them, they're so fun to write <33 please enjoy!!!

Louise found himself standing outside of the medic’s lab. The doors had been closed since early morning, with Germinoma being the only one who ever came in and out of the place. Though, Lyse wasn’t sure how much that actually happened. He didn’t think he had heard the doors open since breakfast.

He leaned against the wall, right across from the doors. He stared at the doors as his internal clock ticked the seconds that passed, with him at some point wondering if he could perhaps bore a hole through the doors with how much he stared. He made no move to open it, or knock, or anything to gain the doctor’s attention from the other side.

In truth, Louise had been waiting for a few minutes. He had news for Germinoma, but was unsure if it was the right time to tell him. It had been silent, for the most part, inside of the lab-slash-medical station, with only faint murmurs being heard by the ex-spy. What the medic was doing, he had no idea.

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together. Germinoma had important work, something he emphasized to the whole team last they saw him, just after breakfast. It didn’t seem like any other “important” work, not like before. It seemed…serious. It gave Louise a bad feeling in his gut, one that he didn’t like. Things were happening in the background, bad things, and without him or his team knowing. Germinoma knew something about it. Louise wasn’t sure if he wanted to know himself.

Footsteps down the hall caught Louise’s attention, as well as…dragging? Scraping against the smooth, concrete floor made him turn his attention off the door. He grimaced at the sight of Monday, just down the hall, coming towards him with a very much broken leg that was leaving a bloody trail as he walked.

“Hey,” he greeted, once he had gotten closer. Too close, in Louise’s opinion, as he could smell the reek of blood and dirt and whatever else he may have gotten in contact with. Louise cringed at the sight of the other man’s hair, all crusted and matted with both dried and fresh blood, along with saliva from the soldier’s chewing habits. God knows when the last time the man had showered. Louise scowled when the other planted himself just a few feet away from him and had mimicked the same way he was leaning against the wall.

“What do you want?” he asked, tone clear that he would rather have that man be anywhere else on the base than there. Monday shot him a sloppy grin, fixing his hair by brushing the disgusting strands off and over his shoulder. He did nothing though, to fix those crooked, yellow-tinted glasses that were cracked in one lens, and completely missing another.

“What, can’t a guy wait for the doc to heal ‘im up?”

Louise scoffed, and reached for his cigarettes and lighter. “I doubt the doctor would see you even if you had a knife stuck in your head.”

“Wrong, Goldilocks,” Monday responded with the same shit-eating grin, “considering that happened last week, I have to say I might just be his favorite patient yet.”

Louise thinks about the incident when Germinoma stabbed Monday with a needle, seemingly out of the blue, because the latter had apparently gotten on the medic’s nerves one too many times that week.

“Right. I’m sure you are.”

“If anything, I should be askin’ why you’re here, mate.” Monday titled his head a bit, and Louise noticed blood started to come down his face, the injury hidden underneath somewhere in his hair. “So. What’re you doin’ here?”

Louise lit up a cigarette, the movement being muscle-memory to him. “I have important news for the doctor, but he has more important work that has to be done. So, I am waiting.”

Silence filled the hallway, and if Louise listened hard enough, he could hear the voice of the doctor inside the room. The man had always been fond of voice recordings; a better way to take notes of his work and thoughts, without having to stop everything to write it down. And he hid them, hid them very well in his chaotic-tidiness of that room, so that no one could find them.

Not that Louise had searched for them or anything.

“Well Louie, I’m afraid that my very broken leg and other injuries take priority,” Monday argued. “So, if you excuse me mate-” As Monday moved, Louise outstretched his arm to stop him.

“No.”

Monday paused, a scoff leaving him.

“No?”

“The doctor is busy,” Louise explained once more, “and neither of us are going to interrupt him. We both know how he gets, and he won’t do a single thing to help you if you put him in a mood.” A deep drag of his cigarette calmed the demo’s nerves. “His work is bigger than either of us. Bigger than him.” He took out his cigarette, using it as a pointer as he tilted it towards the closed doors. “He’s got a dead BLU in there–why? What sort of work involves a dead enemy?”

Monday did not respond. The masked demolition man sighed, and leaned back again against the wall. “We both know that something is afoot, whether you want to admit it or not. Things we don’t understand, the doctor doesn’t understand; you can pretend, but then you’ll just be even more of a sad man than I took you for.” Another drag from his cigarette. “So no, you will not bother him. Go get a first-aid kit somewhere else and fuck off.”

Silence filled the air, as Louise glared at the soldier, who just gave him a blank stare behind his broken glasses. “Not going to lie mate,” Monday finally started, voice low, “I’ve been bleedin’ out for a while now, and haven’t heard a word you said for the past minute now. So if you excuse me Goully, I am going to get myself some medical attention before I pass out again.”

When Monday took another step, Louise was quick to light another cigarette and flick it towards his feet. This one though, not quite a normal cigarette, explodes on impact, making a moderate boom. 

Monday leapt back when the boomstick hit a few inches away from his feet. “The hell mate?!” he yelled. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

If Louise was as attentive as he said he was, then he would have noticed how the noises had ceased in the medical lab; no more sounds of equipment, no doctor talking to himself. Alas, he was not, and so he answered the soldier’s question.

“Germinoma has made it clear to everyone on the base what happens when we disturb him,” Louise repeated. “And more than that, I won’t lie by saying I’m not interested in what he’s investigating. You disturbing his work is ruining what chance he has of investigating something that goes just beyond a fucking broken bone or duties done on the base; we will wait patiently because if that’s what it takes for him to learn about something that could potentially affect us all on a unfathomable scale, then I will gladly stand out here.” Louise paused his long rant, letting a smile creep onto his face. “Besides, throwing my sticks at you is quite entertaining.”

Just as Louise reached into his pocket for another boomstick, the loud door of the lab slid open. The two outside froze as the noise filled the area, as they found themselves facing a rather furious looking medic.

“Oh, hey Germy,” Monday said with a wave of his hand. He smiled and said, “leg’s a bit broken, if you’re up to fixin’ that.”

Germinoma’s eyes glanced down the hall, forcing him to do a double-take; he leaned out of the doorway to look at the long trail of blood that led to the pair, with a large puddle of it at the soldier’s feet–not even mentioning the dark spot of soot from the explosion.

“The fuck is wrong both of ya?” he asked. “Is today fucking ‘Piss Off Medic Day?’ Or are you two asshats just so fuckin’ in love with me that you can’t just fathom leavin’ me alone for a whole day?”

Neither answer for a few beats. Monday then spoke up, pointing at the demo to say, “he got something important to tell ya, and I am about to pass out from blood loss from a botched landmine-jump.” He shrugged. “Still workin’ on it, but it’s coming along nicely.”

Germinoma gave him a blank stare, leaving Louise quiet in understanding of how the man surely felt.

“Get your ass in here,” he eventually groaned. “Not like I was doin’ anything important. I should really get you a helmet or something, Jesus.”

Monday gave a sloppy salute, answering with a “sir, yes sir” before marching on in. The medic’s attention snapped over to Louise.

“And what the hell is it that you want? You got more important things to bother me with than what I was doin’?”

A smile appeared on Louise’s face. “Just hear to tell you that you’re assigned dinner duty tonight,” he said, and took his leave. 

“Wha–are you fucking kiddin’ me!? Yeah, let me just drop everything on my plate to cook up some soup. Thank God my entire plate was empty, or else I wouldn’t have time to stir a big pot full of lentils and meat and shit in it! I was almost worried that I wouldn’t be able to do that, and instead would be forced to work all day on something totally fucking not important or anything! Jesus fucking shit!” 

Louise was unable to keep the grin off his face as he walked down the hall, the shouts slowly turning into a faint and muted noise as he headed off to his own room. No answers from the medic about what he had been doing, not that Louise had even asked. Only sarcastic remarks from the man, and nothing more. Not unusual, not for the secretive doctor, but Louise still needed answers; for what Germinoma was working on, for what the hell was even happening to the BLUs.  He wouldn’t get them, not now, and he accepted that. But nonetheless, he knew something was afoot, and he'd be damned if he didn’t try, at least a little bit, to see what Germinoma was investigating.

#does louise have tinnitus? 🤔 i mean many of them would tbh but imo any demo man should have tinnitus #i didn’t include steve and i am so sorry about that–we’ll just say he doesn’t have him yet #(i forgor) #tf2 #team fortress two #job switcheroo #tf2 au #short yes im sorry lol;; i also really hope i wrote them well--neither spy or sniper are my strong suit when it comes to writing the mercs #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout