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cheolbooluvr · 2 years

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the social club - chapter four

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pairing: svt x fem!reader

genre: murder mystery, angst

word count: 3.8k

warnings: mentions of death, murder, profanity, classism, nightmares, grief, nausea, all the usual culprits

a/n: phew! ngl, i had some real brain constipation trying to write this for the past few weeks, so i apologize for the delay T-T any who, chapter four is here! and a storm's a-brewing o.o

tag list: @carat-cakes @dj-bboo @lavenderautumnx @gyukult @wh4txium1n @twogyuu @xoeshr @edgaralienpoe @kthpurplesyou

social club masterlist

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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↤ chapter three

It was becoming something of a recurring dream.

The field.

The girl.

The forest.

The river.

The body.

Nightmare, rather. There wasn’t exactly a “schedule” to when it would happen, nor was there a particular event that would “trigger” the images in your head, but it was becoming more constant in occurrence. It wasn’t always exactly the same, however—sometimes it would be windy, sometimes you’d hear the chirping of birds, other times, it was as if you were in a silent movie, the laughter and the sounds of the river completely muted. Yet, the key parts remained the same.

At first, you didn’t think much of it: it was just a dream, images your brain strung together in your subconscious like a collage. But the more it started happening, the more an unsettling feeling creeped into your chest, leaving you to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it might mean something.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Seungcheol declared, pounding his fist against the table. You were brought back to reality by the President’s commanding tone. The once lively mood of the room suddenly turned grim, and though the change was sudden, it was almost… comforting. “As you all know, we have a guest today.” Seungcheol raised his eyebrows and tilted his chin in your direction. Everyone rotated their heads to look at you, the deep desire within you to recoil into your chair now enveloping your whole being.

He continued, “I expect you to extend to her the same kindness and hospitality that we have shown Hyeyoon and our other guests.” There was a thickness in your throat as you swallowed, your eyes meeting Seungkwan’s in an attempt to look away from the president—though Seungkwan didn’t look remotely interested in showing you that kind of respect when you were the one who was sitting in his chair. “As you all know, Hyeyoon did a lot for us in her time as our Sweetheart. It’s only right that we do something to honor her, not only as a member of our club, but also as the sister of our treasurer, Jihoon.”

Your eyes moved to said member across the table from you; as always, his gaze was cold and piercing, his stone-like demeanor showing you not even the slightest glimpse of what was possibly going on inside his head.

“As requested, the headmaster and his wife will speak, but we’ll still have some time to do something else.”

“Do we need to?” All eyes fell on Seungkwan, his body leaned back against his seat as he twirled a pen in his hand with a grace that didn’t match expression.

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol’s voice bellowed in the room.

He shrugged. “Well, I think her roommate should give some input,” Seungkwan said, his tone indicating that he still didn’t understand why you were here and why you were in his chair. “Why else would she be here?”

“Best friend,” Chan corrected him.

“Sure,” Seungkwan scoffed. His words didn’t faze you, but Chan opened his mouth to reply when he was stopped by Seokmin who just shook his head. The two boys had a tendency to be at each other’s throats, neither one relenting until someone else had to step in.

You glanced at the head of the table where Seungcheol had an eyebrow quirked at the two with his arms crossed over his chest. It was then that you noticed that the pin the members always donned—golden with black accents—was not the one he was wearing. Of course he wasn’t. He was wearing the President’s pin which was just the reverse (black with gold accents) of the members’.

The pin stood out against the tan fabric of his lapel, and despite him wearing the same uniform as you, he made it seemed even more expensive than it already was when it adorned his collar. You guessed that was the magic of being the President, of being Choi Seungcheol.

Across the table, Mingyu had his hand on Seungkwan’s arm, stopping him from commenting any further as well. If they continued, it wouldn’t be good for any of them if Seungcheol was in a mood even worse than he was right now.

“We need ideas, not arguments,” Jeonghan chided.

“Well,” Chan spoke up, “do you have any ideas?”

You didn’t realize he was talking to you until everyone’s beady eyes were on you again. God, you hated being perceived, especially like this; your stomach churned at the idea of speaking in front of everyone, your fingers fidgeting with the delicate fabric of your blazer.

“Um,” you began. The hairs on your body stood up, limbs suddenly numb from the unwanted attention. The pounding of your heart throbbed, beating against your eardrums in tandem to the ticking of the grandfather clock, your head now faint.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Seungkwan said in an attempt to provoke you.

The chair next to you skidded against the floor as Chan stood up in your defense.

“Sit,” Seungcheol’s voice commanded, “down.”

Chan, in his frozen state, gave an apologetic look to the president who only motioned with his head for your friend to do as he said. However, that didn’t stop him from glaring down Seungkwan, the latter returning the favor and mouthing what could only be imagined as profanities at the former.

Seungcheol was frustrated—he absolutely despised when the meeting went astray, especially because he was a straight-cut, no-nonsense guy—so when the members started fighting, in front of a guest nonetheless, he had half a mind to cut the meeting short. He leaned forward, pinching the space in between his eyes as if that would somehow help tame the violent pulsing in his head.

The room was quiet save for the ticking of the grandfather clock and one of the members sniffling. Your eyes shifted from Seungcheol to Jun who coincidentally happened to be looking at you as well. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, mostly because you averted your gaze so fast before there could be any more awkward encounters between the two. You did, however, hear him clear his throat in the stillness of the boardroom.

Seungcheol began again, “If no one has anything to say—”

“I—” You paused.

Now, it was you and Seungcheol who were looking at each other, the austerity in his eyes causing you to freeze. You wanted to look away, but something about his gaze bewitched you in such a way that if you looked anywhere but at him, perhaps you’d be committing a grave sin.

“Go ahead,” he asserted, uncrossing his arms to motion that you had the floor.

Finally able to break your eye contact, you instead concentrated on the middle of the table, careful not to look at anyone else lest you come under someone else’s scrutiny. “I, um, I was thinking… ”

“Great, she has a brain,” Seungkwan muttered under his breath, but quickly pressed his lips tight when Seungcheol cleared his throat.

“Seungkwan,” another voice chimed in, though it wasn’t from the usual intimidating culprit. This voice was much softer—gentler—than the one that belonged to Seungcheol. You glanced over to the boy sitting to his left, Joshua Hong, who met your eyes and offered an apologetic smile as if to say, “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”

You returned a tight-lipped smile, thankful for his small gesture.

“Well,” you continued, “maybe you guys could do a slideshow? Maybe the students could share their favorite memories of her?”

Honestly, you were speaking out of your ass since you had been put on the spot like this, but… that was kind of a good fucking idea. The other members seemed to think so, too, except for Seungkwan. But it’s not like you expected him to like anything you said anyway.

Besides, what the fuck was his problem? At least the other members seemed to be on your side.

Well, some of them.

Jihoon forever remained an enigma to you, his cold, poker face showing absolutely no reaction to your idea.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Chan agreed, nodding with his thumb and pointer finger resting on his chin like he was the Thinker or something.

“Hmm.” You found yourself looking at Seungcheol again, though this time, everyone else had their eyes on him, too. “I like that.”

A breath of relief escaped your lungs—some way, somehow, this meeting wasn’t going nearly as bad as you had initially expected. The Seungkwan situation left little to be desired, but at least you were contributing.

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol called out to him, “how does that sound?”

“Hm?” He snapped his head as if he had been thinking about something else rather than paying attention to the meeting. Did he even hear what you said?

“The slideshow? Favorite memories of her?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure, that’s fine.” It didn’t really sound ‘fine,’ though, the way he said it coming off as more apathetic than enthusiastic.

“Does everyone have pictures of Hyeyoon?” Jeonghan inquired.

“Yeah—”

You were thrown off by the response, not so much the actual words, but by who said it. Your attention turned to the tall boy sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Mingyu?

Well, she was the Sweetheart after all, so it made sense that everyone had pictures with her. Even Chan and Seokmin would post photos with her on their Instagram accounts, amassing an implausible amount of likes and comments.

“Wow, so pretty!”

“You guys look so good together!”

“Hyeyoon, I wish I was you!”

These were the kinds of comments that followed her no matter where she went, and despite their harmless nature on the surface level, you knew that those comments were written with envy and jealousy.

You knew because you also thought that way. How nice it would be to have everyone’s, especially the Social Club’s, undivided attention on you, how nice it would be to be effortlessly beautiful and kind, how nice it would be to just be her.

But you were just you, and somehow, you resented yourself for it. For being poor. For being boring. For constantly being in someone else’s shadow.

“Okay, then let’s do that. You’re in charge and whatever you need, just ask us, alright?” Seungcheol asked. It took a moment to process that the ‘you’ he was talking about was… you.

Wait.

What?

You?

You were in charge? But wasn’t this supposed to be a Social Club thing? You were most certainly not a part of the Social Club. Not even remotely close. So, why would you be in charge?

Somehow, you made eye contact with Seungkwan again, his face in utter disgust at your sudden appointment, but he said nothing, only slamming his notebook shut and barging out of the room.

“You got this,” Seokmin assured you, his beaming smile easing your nerves.

“We’ll help you!” Chan reiterated.

“Yeah, we will. Just let us know if you need anything," Joshua echoed their sentiments. With his hand resting on your shoulder, his amiable demeanor was enough to give you some form of confidence to take on this project.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

———

The library was particularly quiet this morning. However, it was Saturday and you figured that everyone was probably asleep, too hungover from whatever parties they had gone to the night prior.

The kids at your school did crazy things, but only you were crazy enough to be studying in the library at 8 AM on a Saturday.

You didn’t get the luxury of partying.

Hell, you didn’t even get the luxury of being able to mourn your best friend before you were threatened with expulsion. It was wild to think that this used to be your dream, to study at and graduate from the Academy with your (now ex) best friend, to go to the same university and get jobs at the country’s top companies.

But dreams died, too, you guessed.

Instead, your eyes were glazing over your history textbook as you tried your best not to cry—as if you had any tears left in the first place. The words on the page became a jumbled mess, and despite your best efforts to do your reading, you just couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation Jihoon had with his father.

We still don’t know anything.

It was true. You didn’t know a single thing about what happened to Hyeyoon; the headmaster wasn’t exactly forthcoming on the cause of her death, and you appreciated the Social Club for their attempts to “honor” her life, as they put it, but it felt like more of a show than anything. To make matters worse, you were now in charge of the whole shebang. Fucking great.

Yet, one thing continued to linger on your mind: what happened to her?

You couldn’t exactly imagine that she would just slip and fall randomly, could she? The gears started turning in your head and soon you found yourself spiraling into a rabbithole; there were so many questions and not nearly enough answers for you to feel settled. Grief was a horrible thing, but it was even worse when you had no idea what could have possibly caused the end of your friend’s life.

Hyeyoon was clumsy, sure, maybe even a bit of a ditz sometimes, but the place where her body was found… She had never mentioned to you that she went there, and she had shown you all of her favorite hideaways.

But this… this wasn’t one of them.

A black ink splotch drenched your paper from where you had been nervously tapping your pen, question marks adorning the top right corner. Surely, if this was what was going through your head, shouldn’t Jihoon be wondering the same thing? But why would he vehemently reject your involvement? Was he already looking into it? But if so, why wouldn’t he just tell you? Was he hiding something? And if he was hiding something, what could it possibly be? There was no way he was involved, right? No, he was her brother, after all. He loved and cared about her.

Right?

The whirlpool of questions was beginning to overwhelm you—there was no way you were going to get any work done right now, despite the urgency of your assignment. You gasped for air, not having realized you had been holding your breath this whole time. This was really starting to take a weird, physiological toll on you, but you weren’t quite sure why.

Was it grief?

Anxiety?

Curiosity?

The weight of the heavy cardstock made a resounding thump as you closed your textbook—you wouldn’t be doing any studying this morning. At least not on the Renaissance. Instead, you stood up and found yourself at a kiosk, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

‘The Social Club Archives,’ you typed into the computer, a newfound rush of adrenaline surging through your body.

Tch, of course. They had their own section of the library, and maybe you should have expected this, but there were hundreds of books. Just. About. Them. You scrolled to the bottom of the first page.

‘Page 1 of 39’

“Dear Lord,” you mumbled under your breath. Honestly, you weren’t sure what exactly you were searching for, but your curiosity was starting to get the best of you—maybe it was too soon to suspect anything sinister, but Hyeyoon spent all of her time with them when she wasn’t with you.

One of them had to know something.

———

“Okay, but Seungkwan was way out of pocket last week,” Chan said, his mouth full of rice and beef. You would think that for a rich, private school such as this one, the cafeteria food would be gourmet or something, not this slop in a metal tray. Not like it mattered though, you still ate it under the scrutiny of Seokmin and Chan.

Even when you tried to tell them you were fine with the cup ramyeon stashed under your bed, they still forcibly dragged you here to have “real food.”

“Seungkwan’s just protective of his stuff,” Seokmin tried to argue. Your memory flashed back to the events that followed you taking Seungkwan’s chair at the Social Club’s meeting. Never in your life had anyone looked at you with such disdain, especially not for sitting in their chair—whatever, that wasn’t the issue at hand. You had been contemplating ways to bring up Hyeyoon to your friends in a way that didn’t seem like you were accusing them, or their group, of anything. Yet.

“Can I ask you guys something?” you interrupted.

“Sure,” Chan replied, dipping his spoonful of rice into the soybean soup before shoving it into his mouth. You loved him, but he could be a bit of a heathen sometimes, if not all the time. Seokmin nodded, too.

“It’s about Hyeyoon…” Suddenly, their full attention was on you, ears perked as this was the first time you had really mentioned her name since that day they pulled you away from the edge where she had fallen. “Has Jihoon mentioned anything about her?”

The two boys paused for a moment, exchanged glances at one another, then turned back to you, offering only a shrug of their shoulders. You weren’t sure to what extent their relationship with Jihoon went, but they were the closest people to you in the club and it was worth a shot to get an answer out of them.

Right?

“He hasn’t, like, mentioned her… like at all?” Both boys shook their heads. “What about before she…”

“Look,” Chan interrupted you before leaning in close to you. “This stays between us, okay?”

You nodded, suddenly anxious at what might possibly come out of his mouth.

“Seok and I… we overheard him say something about a month ago.”

Seokmin’s eyes went wide when he realized what Chan was alluding to, leaning in to add his side to the story. “Right,” he said, “um, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Just tell me,” you said, exasperated by this torturous build up.

You could hear Chan’s foot tapping against the hardwood floors under the table as he continued, “He told someone that Hyeyoon was…”

“That she was what, Chan?” You were growing impatient with every beat, and at some point, you’d have to beat the words out of him if that’s what it took.

Instead, Seokmin chimed in. “That she was the reason the club was losing money.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed with worry as he looked at you apologetically. It was as if you had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to do, but really, he had only told you the truth. Or, what he believed to be the truth.

You blinked.

Hyeyoon was the reason the Social Club was losing money?

How was that even possible? What could the Sweetheart do that would result in the club losing money? Weren’t they all filthy rich anyway?

The storm of questions returned to your head, fogging your mind of any common sense at this point. It was of no use, you needed some alone time now.

Without another word, you took your backpack and departed the cafeteria in such a hurry that Chan and Seokmin were left speechless, curious as to what was going through your mind now that you had brought Hyeyoon up the way you had.

The door to your room slammed shut and you immediately ripped some paper from your notebook—now was not the time to be making up conspiracy theories. Or was it?

You scribbled onto the paper with a sharpie.

None of it really made sense as it was, but something had to be there, right? Your head pounded along to the beating of your heart, adrenaline rushing through your body like surges of electricity. It was kind of stupid, really, how you were acting in this moment, and maybe your little ideas were nothing, and maybe it really was an accident.

You had these three pieces of information, but nothing else. So what now? Where did you go from here? You were huffing as you leaned over your desk, your eyes fixated on this piece of paper and the words scrawled in your (somewhat illegible) handwriting.

Tapping your finger against your desk, you urged yourself to think about other things, possible clues that could perhaps lead to more answers.

That’s all it was—you had questions, and you needed answers.

How did Hyeyoon die?

Why did Hyeyoon die?

Someone had to know something.

You threw yourself onto your bed, now having calmed down from the strange high of your adrenaline rush, and you thought hard about Hyeyoon.

She was your best friend which meant that you knew everything about her and she knew everything about you.

To an extent.

But you knew a lot—she’d come back from her extracurriculars and tell you about her day, how tired she was from Debate Club, how Seungkwan just wouldn’t stop nagging her at their meeting, how Junhui—Jun—took her to the cafe on campus and bought her coffee and cake while the two of them studied quietly. You could hear her giggles when she’d talk about him, and despite the fact that her boyfriend was your other (ex) best friend, it was as if she was talking about a completely different person than the one you had grown up with.

The Junhui you knew didn’t like sweets, nor did he really ever drink coffee. You recalled that he even once called it the “Drink of Death,” his face contorting in a way that made you double over in a fit of laughter.

But you listened to her anyway, ears always open to her crazy life in an attempt to live vicariously through her. You yearned for that kind of liberty to do as you pleased without the pressure of having to maintain your grades, to just…be free.

Life for you, however, was not that simple, nor would it ever be. In addition to maintaining your grades, you would have to get into a top university, and even there, you’d be under immense pressure to do well in order to get a good job, and the cycle simply would never end. What once seemed like a one-way ticket to your dreams was actually a life sentence of misery under the glittery, gilded facade of capitalism, corruption, and greed.

It was fucked, really. You were fucked.

And somehow, Hyeyoon was your oasis, a momentary relief from the constant reminder of everything wrong with your life. Even though Hyeyoon was just another one of the rich kids you went to school with, she didn’t really treat you like you were the poor scholarship student. She treated you like her friend, because that’s what you were.

Her best friend.

And because you were her best friend and she was yours, it was your job, your duty, to find out what the fuck happened to her. Something was off, and surely, you were going to be the one to find out what, or why, that was because it didn’t seem like her own family was too keen on finding the answers or sharing them with the world, much less you.

It was irritating, honestly, and you didn’t want to harbor too many negative feelings towards Jihoon because he was her family, but so were you. Maybe not by blood, but what did that matter? He had no right gatekeeping something like this from you.

Yet, if he was going to act this way, you had no choice but to take matters into your own hands.

chapter five ↦

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zealoushound · 3 years

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Where I Belong

Summary: Your and Mike's son has a bad dream. He wants his father to comfort him. While comforting his little boy he reflects back on his past.

Pairing: Mike/Reader, Mike with his son

Word Count: 1,275

Warnings: none. All fluff. Sweetheart Mikey being a sweetheart dad.

A/N: I really wanted to see Mikey as a father, then suddenly inspiration struck. Mike deserved better so we’re out here giving it to him!

Disclaimer: I do not own Mike, Hellrasier, or Henry Cavill, much to my dismay. Only the kids and the wife are my original creation.

Do not copy any part of my material to use as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.

***

This work of art right here came from the lovely @luna-aestas Thank you so much for such a beautiful piece!

***

It was 2:13 am according to the alarm clock on your bedside table. Your home was peacefully quiet. Then from the darkness of your bedroom came a small voice. “Daddy?” The voice was very soft, very timid. “Daddy?” The little voice was scared.

You were sleeping peacefully, unaware of the meek little voice calling out for his father. A shaky little hand reached out for his fathers shoulder. Giving him a light shake, he spoke a bit louder this time, with fresh tears falling from his eyes, “Daddy?”

Mike woke from a dream of his own. His reality went from losing his swimming trunks at the water park he used to frequent in his childhood, to the familiar darkness of his current bedroom that he shared with his wife of five years. There was a dim nightlight by the door, and one in the hallway for your son to be able to see his way around if needed, but otherwise nothing except the orange glow of the street light down below between the slits in the blinds of your window by the bathroom.

“Daddy?” Mike took in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose, letting his eyes adjust.

“Adam? What’s the matter buddy?” Mike sat up somewhat confused, putting his legs over the edge of the bed, and picked up his son. Holding him close as he started to cry harder. “Come on buddy, let’s go to your room so we don’t wake mama.” You were seven months pregnant, and he knew just how precious sleep was to you right now.

Standing up, holding Adam, he threw one arm back to stretch then walked the nervous toddler back to his bedroom. Adam clutching his fathers bare shoulder the entire way. “Tell me what’s wrong buddy.” Mike said, going into Adam's room.

“I have bad dream.” Mike's face fell a bit. He sat Adam down on the bed. Sitting down beside him he watched as the four year old wiped his face with the sleeve of his pajamas.

“I’m sorry kiddo. Wanna tell me what it was about?” Mike brushed his son's unruly curls out of his face.

Adam sniffled. Begrudgingly he began telling his father his nightmare. “There was a bear in my room. Him was a bad bear, daddy.” He looked around like he was looking for the beastly bear to come back. “Him bit me! And him was gonna eat me!”

Mike’s eyes widened in pretend shock, he gasped, “No way! Quick! Let me look at you!” Mike rolled up his son's sleeves, lifted his shirt over his head, tilting him back and forth, inspecting his stomach and back. He rolled up the legs of Adam’s pajamas. Adam was giggling at his fathers reaction. “Phew, no bear bites! Looks like that bear let you go! Musta been scared off cause of these stinky feet!” He crossed his eyes, sticking out his tongue and played dead, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Daddy!” Adam’s laughter filled the room. He laid down with his dad. Mike shifted into a more comfortable position knowing he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Tell me a story daddy.”

Mike recanted the age-old story that his grandmother used to tell him about the three bears, but gave it a more happy ending, and made Goldielocks a little boy named Sam. Telling him in the end that the bears all befriended the little boy. He was even invited inside to eat dinner after having help fix the things that he had broken.

“Daddy?” Mike could tell Adam was getting sleepy again.

“Yeah, kiddo?” He was softly running his fingers through his son's hair.

“Do you ever have bad dreams?” Such an innocent question. One that could bring back such dark memories if he were to allow it. Not tonight.

Mike inhaled sharply, remembering the sounds of the shovels digging into the earth to free him; the scraping of metal against wood. “Yeah buddy, sometimes.” Adam looked up into his eyes as he continued. “Your mom saved me from those dreams though. She made them stop. But when I do have them I just wake her, and she holds me until the monsters go away.” Mike smiled fondly talking about his wife. The mother of the children he never imagined he’d have.

Adam yawned, and smiled. “Close your eyes little guy. That bear ain’t coming back. If he does just feed him some porridge. That’ll make him happy.” Adam closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes.

Mike stayed awake a little bit longer thinking about his family. Thinking what would have happened had that officer not realized what was going on at that house that night. He had never thought he’d be so grateful to see the inside of an ambulance. That was the night he met you.

You weren’t even supposed to be working that evening. You had pulled a double because someone was sick. You were the second person he saw that night. When they opened the casket an officer called for help. “We got a live one! Need some help over here!” You were the one to answer that call. You helped pull him from the earth.

Mike fell asleep thinking about seeing your beautiful face for the first time that night. Thinking about the way you gently shushed him, putting the oxygen mask over his mouth and held him to you in the back of that ambulance because he refused to lie down, terrified that if he did he’d end up back in that box. The way your fingers brushed his curls back away from his face.

You woke up that morning around 7:30 reaching for your husband but found only his pillow. You got up slowly, wanting to take care of nature’s business then go looking for him. After washing your hands you walked down the hall to check on your son. The sight that greeted you made you smile wide.

There was no denying Adam was Mikey’s son. They were both on their backs, their right arms were both up and over their heads, the left draped over their stomachs. They were both snoring, both mouths wide open. There were curls everywhere! You went, and grabbed your phone to snap a picture.

“I love you my boys.” You quietly say rubbing your bump. “Little girl these boys are going to be wrapped around your finger I just know it.” You went downstairs to cook breakfast.

Mike joined you in the kitchen not long afterward. Kissing the back of your neck he mumbled a good morning. “Say, do you remember what the first thing I ever said to you was?”

You laughed, “How could I forget?!” You turned away from what you were doing to look at him. “‘Hey sweet cheeks, you always look this good saving lives?’” Mike laughed at you when you tilted your head like he did when he flirted. “To which I responded, ‘normally no, but you making me roll around in all this dirt gave me a more natural look.’”

You touched his face as his hands caressed your full abdomen. His little girl. “I’m so glad I worked that double. I was so pissed I had to take that shift. Who knew three hours later I’d meet my soulmate.”

Mike hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes in bliss. Some would say it was divine intervention, some would say fate, or it just wasn’t his time, but if anyone asked Mike, he would tell them he didn’t know, and didn’t care all he knew was that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

***

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

@foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @hope-to-hell @littlefreya @nuggsmum @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl @christhickevans @winter2112rose @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond

#zealoushound writes #where i belong #mikey hellraiser #mike x reader #mike fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #soft mikey #comfort fic #dad mike

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lucientelrunya · 3 years

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Like a lonely house pt 3

Phew, I feel a little like that bird meme "the risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math" (which I really am *points to the 70 years that are actually 80 years* !!), with how I went "Huh, there is no 50.000+words slow burn of them, but I want!!!" and my brain was like "well, do it yourself. Here, have Chapter 1, 3, 6 and 9, I already prepared them. Oh and here is some Ba Ye+Wu Xie-friendship" And then I struggle with how to bridge the gap between those chapters.....

This part is me struggling really hard. Trying to bridge those gaps and trying to puzzle Mystic Nine-Canon and Book-Canon together. Like, Wu Laogou??? He wasn't even born? My perfectionism can't handle this!! But I guess I am like Hamilton, I'll never be satisfied *sigh*, so ... yeah. Feel free to point out any mistakes you spot!

I should definitely add that this is canon-divergent... ish (which canon???), I'm not sure if there is anything I should warn about in this part, maybe just more sadness? But @psychic-waffles and @gaiahenshin wanted someone to hug Zhang Rishan so ... here you go I guess ^^°°° (I see those tags and reblogs and favorites and I am beyond thrilled every single time, I don't even know how to react!)

It takes a conscious effort to make his lungs work properly again and take a deep breath. Fo Ye had entrusted him with his legacy and he will do everything he can to not disappoint him any further. He has to face the consequences of what he has done, he has to. But before he can get a grip on himself someone tips his chin up to shine a flashlight right into his eyes. He automatically flinches back from the blinding light, dislodging the hand from his face in the process and finds Huo Daofu staring at him, flashlight in his hand and one brow raised. “Back with us?” he asks, eyes scanning Zhang Rishan’s face methodically and only taking a step back once he nods slowly. How long had he stood frozen, trapped in his thoughts for Huo Daofu to come over and start to worry?

“Good. Any more insights on god-radio?” What is he talking about? "God-radio?" Zhang Rishan repeats slowly, confused, which only makes Huo Daofu raise both brows this time. He pointedly looks over at the mural where Zhang Rishan's fingers are still touching the picture of said god. Ah, they must have thought it was still somehow communicating with him.

“Time travel”, Zhang Rishan mutters, trying to ignore the way Luo Que hovers anxiously at his side and the way Ba Ye has his hands wrapped around his upper arm like he had always done when he wanted to hide behind him or was whining about something (and the possible connection between those two things). His words cause several confused “huh”’s from different directions. Taking a slow deep breath he braces himself to say the words, to confess and take the blame for this mess. “No, I didn't get any further godly insights, but I think Ba Ye is right, he never died, he was, as you phrased it so nicely, plucked from the past and put here, now”, he says, inclining his head at Wu Xie.

“But why?” Ba Ye asks and Zhang Rishan makes himself turn his head to look at him when he says his next words. “Because of me.” And there it is. “Because this god was inside my mind and it was so incredibly thankful I gave it its freedom that it wanted to give something to me in return, to grant me a wish.” Not that he had wished for Ba Ye to be ripped out of his time, exactly, his thoughts had been a jumbled mess at that moment. He had never consciously wished for anything in particular. But Ba Ye’s sudden disappearance in the middle of a war had torn a hole into Fo Ye’s heart and, by extension, into Zhang Rishan’s (not only by extension, of course, because Ba Ye had been important to Zhang Rishan, too - is important - but to Fo Ye he had practically been family). He could have said how Fo Ye had looked for Ba Ye for months, for years, with a war raging right on their doorstep, when thousands of people were dying or disappearing, when the city they had so desperately tried to protect had been burned to the ground. How Fo Ye had never truly gotten over not being able to find him - save him - or at least find out what happened. He had felt Ba Ye’s absence all his life, a regret he couldn’t let go of, not even on his deathbed. A regret Zhang Rishan had taken into his own heart, after Fo Ye’s death, added to his own regrets and moulded into a lump of regret-failure-pain-bitterness-sorrow that his trained mind still hasn’t filed away properly. He has failed Ba Ye, too, and has missed Ba Ye, too. And this is his mess, this is what his jumbled thoughts had made a god do, so he leaves it at that.

Zhang Rishan is prepared for anger, for reproaches, for being smacked again, but Ba Ye’s face is unreadable and he doesn’t say anything, his fingers around Zhang Rishan’s arm only slightly tightening their grip. He waits for something - anything - to happen, (maybe for the sky to fall down or the earth to open up and swallow him), for him to wake up and realize everything’s only just been a dream - nightmare? - or for one of them to tell him he’s crazy and there’s no way this could be possible. And someone does: “But that’s impossible, that would be a paradox”, Wu Xie says and Zhang Rishan looks at him pointedly.

“A bootstrap paradox, to be exact”, Huo Daofu remarks and really, that’s the part of all of this he wants to comment on? “A what now?” Pangzi asks, squinting at Huo Daofu and Zhang Rishan is glad he is not the only one who has no idea what Huo Daofu is talking about. “A bootstrap paradox. It basically describes phenomena with a cause-effect-loop just like this. I mean, you don’t know my gran, but she was absolutely obsessed with the famous Qi Tiezui so I don’t know how many times I heard the story of his tragic, mysterious disappearance and all the questions and the search and Zhang Da Fo Ye’s heartbreak.” He looks like he wants to roll his eyes in annoyance at the mention of his grandmother. “But that’s exactly that. He vanished and you wanted to find out why and that wish brought him here in the first place. So what came first? There is no discernable point of origin for- what, I like Sci-Fi, don’t look at me like that!”

It is somehow reassuring and disconcerting at the same time that Huo Daofu of all people manages to sum up his thoughts like this, aside from his guilt. And that he is able to put a name to this, even if that doesn’t mean it’s a real thing. Fiction is fiction after all. How can there even be such a thing? But then, how could there be a god chained to a cave or a mysterious force controlling people like that or golden coffin water that saved people from certain death? After everything else he has already seen and lived through or just heard about in his life he shouldn’t be so doubtful. It’s also quite unsettling how much Huo Daofu knows about Ba Ye’s disappearance and how casually he mentions those details. But Ba Ye doesn’t seem too upset about the mention of Fo Ye’s heartbreak, at least for the moment. Instead he perks up at Huo Daofu’s words.

“Good, good! After all you heard and all you read about that then it must be a real thing, so I think we can all agree that all of this is real and I am real!” And, curiously, Wu Xie looks at Liu Sang, who jerks his head in a small gesture of confirmation that’s not really a nod. But it is obviously enough for Wu Xie to smile at Ba Ye and nod. “Yes, I think we can. And I wanted to ask you something. You were the one who stole one of my grandpa’s dogs, right?” The question makes Ba Ye laugh awkwardly and let go of Zhang Rishan’s arm, so he can gesture at Wu Xie.

“Of course that’s what he would tell his grandchildren about me. Let me tell you, I took out that dog’s gallstones and I brought it back safe and sound! And he acted like I murdered it!” Wu Xie laughs at the face Ba Ye makes, or maybe his helpless gesturing. “He always said you kidnapped that dog just to get back at him.” Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if he imagines how the conversation tiptoes on the line of ‘friendly conversation’ and ‘fishing for information’. But he hadn’t been present for the whole Dog-stealing-thing, so he keeps listening, ignoring Pangzi who starts to tease Huo Daofu about his obvious love for science fiction and then continues to question him about his favorites.

“Aiyah! That’s just what I told Fo Ye, that Wu Laogou would never give me his dog if I asked him because he would think I wanted to get back at him. But I really wasn’t! We needed his gallstones to cure Mo Ce so Fo Ye said I had to steal it if I wouldn’t ask for it. So I stole it, but as I said, I brought it back better than new, freshly cured. And he even made me apologize to the dog!” That is actually something he hadn’t known, but Wu Xie laughing and saying “Of course he would!” is enough to finally fully convince him that all of this is real. It puts his mind at ease and shifts his focus to other things he still has questions about.

They should definitely find out more about this god and the people that imprisoned it. He takes out his phone to take some photos of the mural and finds it mostly covered in white, but just like before it just crumbles away in little flakes. Surprisingly his phone still works and there is no trace of dampness to it. For a moment he stares at the screen and then at his arm, where Ba Ye's hands had grabbed him. The dried white stuff has crumbled away where the cloth had been moved or touched, leaving no trace, no lingering wetness. Deliberately taking note of every part of his skin he realizes that actually nothing feels wet or damp, even though he practically swam in that liquid. He can only recall the feeling of the liquid clinging to him and dragging him down like water-soaked and heavy clothing would do, but it seems highly unlikely that he was unconscious long enough for his clothes to completely dry. It's like whatever was in the pool only wrapped itself around him, like a cocoon, but didn't soak through anything.

Luo Que is still beside him, silently watching him. His arms are covered in white flakes, too, so he must have helped Pangzi get him out of the pool. “Do you remember what the liquid felt like?” Luo Que looks confused for a moment, furrowing his brows until his eyes drift down to his own arms and he seems to get what Zhang Rishan is asking. “Not really like liquid, it felt cool but not wet at all”, he answers, rubbing at one of the larger stains that crumbles away under his fingertips. This only confirms his suspicions, he wants this stuff analyzed. Luo Que finds a zip-lock-bag somewhere in his backpack and together they manage to get at least some of the white flakes and dust into the bag, although it seems to disintegrate once it gets shaken off whatever surface it had clung to.

Wondering if this is even really a tomb he takes pictures of the whole mural. It seems more like a temple - no, they didn’t worship the god here, so more of a prison for a god if there is a word for such a thing. He turns only to find Ba Ye watching him, staring at his phone. Of course, the kinds of cameras Ba Ye knows were big and bulky so he hands it to Ba Ye. “It’s a camera and a phone”, he explains, which only makes Ba Ye stare harder, turning the device in his hands. “It’s so small!” His wonder makes Zhang Rishan smile and he promises to show Ba Ye what it can do later.

Which seems almost like a cue for them to decide to carefully explore the rest of the tomb for more information and to find out if it really is a tomb. They take the dagger, the only remarkable thing on the altar and maybe something that can help them find out more about the people that used it. Maybe at least how old this cave is. Zhang Rishan is still unsure if it’s a tomb or a prison, even after they find two more caves with clay jugs filled with human ashes. Cremation is not exactly a common burial tradition for this region and there are no grave goods at all. Not one single treasure, to Pangzi’s great disappointment, no more murals, no scripture, nothing. It’s mostly a disappointment in terms of exploration, but maybe they can find out some more.

Since it already got dark when they reached the tomb they decide to spend the night in the cave with the pool, which is the only one with enough room for all of them (and they don’t really want to sleep next to rows of human ashes). It’s still quite dark, even with Pangzi’s heater instead of a fire but more comfortable than outside where Liu Sang had heard rain and thunder. None of them goes to check, there is no need to hurry back, they can spend one night in the cave and hopefully the rain will have stopped the next day.

Reception in the cave is strong enough to mail the pictures to some contacts and ask them to look into it. Ba Ye watches him curiously while he types in the message and Zhang Rishan shows him all the other functions - or at least everything he frequently uses his phone for, which makes Pangzi laugh. “Ahh, President Zhang,” he scolds, using the title he had never used before. “You are all about work! Show the poor man some good things! Here, look at this game,” and he tucks on Ba Ye’s shoulder to get him to lean over his own phone.

“Pangzi, the ‘poor man’ doesn’t have a phone to send you money for your stupid game”, Wu Xie leans on Pangzi’s other shoulder, grinning and obviously finished with his phone call. “Ah, Tianzhen, pay attention. I’m already done with that one, this is a new one. Here, look!” Judging by the way all three of them look at the phone it must be something cute and Zhang Rishan finds himself smiling again, glad and thankful that they include Ba Ye so effortlessly. He will need people who can care for him and help him if he decides he won’t forgive Zhang Rishan after they get a chance to talk about everything that has happened since Ba Ye vanished.

This thought wipes the small smile off his face and he distracts himself by texting Liang Wan, asking her when she will be back from her trip because he wants her to check Ba Ye, blood tests and all. He will do everything he can to make sure Ba Ye is okay (or as okay as he can be) and has everything he needs for a life in the 21. century. Which is another reason why he offers Ba Ye his sleeping bag, who simply refuses, adamant that they can share. They end up with Zhang Rishan sitting on one half, leaning his back against the wall and Ba Ye using his leg as a pillow, curled up next to him on the other half. It’s familiar, but he represses the memories, busying himself with shrugging out of his coat without waking Ba Ye to drape it over him because he can feel him shiver against his leg. It seems to be getting colder but he doesn’t mind. Ba Ye doesn’t wake, but when he looks back up Wu Xie smiles at him from where Pangzi is halfway wrapped around him, head on Zhang Qilings lap.

When they pack up the next morning it’s still raining and it’s really noticeably colder than before. Zhang Rishan lets Ba Ye keep his coat, he will need some protection against the rain in his thin changshan, even if the thick forest they had hiked through should offer some protection against the rain. But when they leave the cave there is no more forest, only muddy ground where lush undergrowth had been and some tree stumps that look long dead.

“Well, the forest was unusual”, Liu Sang says but still seems just as perturbed as everyone else. For a moment they just stand there and look around them. “I guess they really needed that god to grow something around here”, Pangzi jokes, but he sounds uneasy about it. And how could they not be, with miles of dead land around them where hours before there had been fruit trees and berry bushes in abundance. Zhang Rishan represses a shiver of uneasiness and just wants to leave this place as soon as possible. He is not the only one. Instinctively they walk faster on their way back, or as fast as they can. The rain had made the ground slippery with mud and dead plants. None of them feels comfortable about stopping for the night but it’s safer than trying to navigate through the dark. Thankfully the rain stopped some time before that and they manage get a fire going, but still all of them are quiet and thoughtful, no trace of the easy banter of the day before.

They are packed and ready to go with the first light of the next day. Without the rain the ground dries up fast and the sun is too bright and too warm, which is actually typical for this region. At one point they cross a very visible line where the dead zone ends and there are plants and trees again, but they don’t stop to inspect it further, too glad to be out.

It’s mid afternoon when they reach the end of the road where they had left their cars and from there it’s only roughly another two hours to drive to the small village where they had spent the night before setting out on this endeavour. The villagers don’t seem to know that a whole forest has vanished and happily accommodate them again in the small inn. They had seemed to avoid the general area of said forest and hadn’t wanted to talk about it before, just whispering about local legends of a ‘man-eating wood’. Luckily the owner of the small inn doesn’t seem to remember their exact number or he simply doesn’t care that they left the allegedly cursed forest with an additional person. He gives them the same rooms (which are actually the only rooms available) and goes off to prepare dinner.

They disperse to their rooms to clean up and rest for a moment until dinner is ready. Wu Xie had made sure that Zhang Rishan shares his room with Ba Ye so they can talk, but both of them seem a bit reluctant to start. They wash in a somewhat uncomfortable silence until Zhang Rishan takes off the bandages, inspecting the two cuts on his arms and is surprised at the 2 neat rows of staples. He hadn’t realized they were that long and deep that they required stapling and is actually impressed at Huo Daofu’s level of preparation for such a small trip. He obviously knows what he is doing, the cuts are clean and already healing nicely. “Let me help you”, Ba Ye takes the fresh bandages out of his hand, and starts slowly wrapping them around Zhang Rishan’s arms.

“I understand there are a lot of things that have happened since I disappeared, so just tell me”, Ba Ye’s voice is quiet and he keeps his eyes on his hands. And, taking a deep breath to brace himself, Zhang Rishan tells him. About the second attack on Changsha, the third, and finally the fourth one when they lost and everything they had tried to protect had been destroyed. He doesn’t go into detail about all the lives that were lost in the war, while Ba Ye’s fingers work slower and slower until they stop, hovering over Fo Ye’s bracelet. Zhang Rishan pulls his arms away to tuck down his sleeves, hiding the bandages and the bracelet alike, while he only briefly mentions the destruction and despair. Ba Ye had seen enough of that after the first attack on Changsha. He tells him about the years after the war, how they slowly rebuild and how Fo Ye kept looking for Ba Ye. There are not only sad things to say - Fo Ye had been happy in his marriage with Xinyue, Er Ye had been pleased with his new apprentice, the Huo-Clan had thrived, just like the Xie-Clan - although those outweigh the good things, because one by one he recounts the deaths of everyone Ba Ye knows.

“I’m sorry”, he finishes and hates that the words don’t do justice to the depth of his feelings. “You lost them too”, Ba Ye says, his voice surprisingly steady and almost gentle, and Zhang Rishan stares at him, at a loss. Yes, he did. But little by little, parts of his world crumbling away, piece by piece, until only duty remained. He’d had time to adjust to the holes, find ways around them, new paths that had grown old and used and then been torn away, too. What he had lost in the course of 80 years Ba Ye had lost in one day, one moment, one blink of an eye.

“Yes”, he says and doesn’t know how to put into words that their pain shouldn’t be compared, because there are not enough words to even begin to describe this. Pain is something he has been trained to file away into different threat levels, into different boxes. He is not allowed to have one named ‘unbearable’, but he doesn’t know how else to label the pain of that one moment when the worst thing has happened and it feels like the world just stops, just shatters and falls to pieces, never to be whole again. But everything stays the same. It’s just his world that shattered, his heart that has been torn apart never to be whole again. He is the one who changed, not the world. And he doesn’t even fathom himself how he had to change to survive that, who he had to become. Because he had become a person that would cause that kind of pain to someone else like this. He had killed countless people in his lifetime, on purpose as a Zhang, as a soldier, in the war or by mistake, by failure, by not being able to save them but he had never thought himself capable of such cruelty.

Whatever Ba Ye reads in his face (or maybe in his heart, because Ba Ye had always been good at reading hearts), it makes him knit his brows. Not in anguish or sorrow but something more akin to chagrin and he grabs the sides of Zhang Rishan’s sweater to roughly tug him forward into a bone crushing hug. And Zhang Rishan allows himself to be moved, just like he had always allowed himself to be moved whenever Ba Ye was tugging on him.

Ba Ye presses his face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping tightly around his sides, fingers digging into his shoulder blades and Zhang Rishan can feel the shaky inhale against the bare skin of his neck. Carefully he wraps his arms around Ba Ye’s shoulders and holds him up when he feels the other man lean most of his weight on him. He doesn’t say anything, when he feels the wetness of quiet tears against his shoulder, just closes his eyes, offering whatever comfort he can offer like this.

#fuba #zhang rishan #ba ye #qi tiezui #dmbj fic #mystic nine

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pseudomonacarriea · 2 years

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REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG

Tagged by: @arskaerenetia Tagging: @jaxyu @raiiju @noircisaint @corrchoigilt @artificile and you!

TAROT CARD: Page of Swords; The Fool SYMBOLIC IMAGERY: Headland winds pushing forth, through obstacles that lay to waste; Laughter and sorrow in tandem; scales of the world held in one’s hand; crates stacked on a single shelf, unable to be moved. FEELING(S): Adoration for those she calls friends and family, knowing she’ll have someone / Heartache and loneliness of the past / Headstrong and always wanting to move, unable to stay still 3 QUOTES OR LYRICS:

"Not at all. We're strong—nothing can tear us apart." ( VS Vaseraga )

It's not so hard living all by yourself It isn't hard, yes, I know that's what you'll say It's what you have told yourself Over and over again in darkness You try to hold back all the thoughts But you know, I just want you as you are Just the you that I see right before me It's all that has been on my mind

"Phew. I can see why they call him the Lord of Flames. If I had his power, I'd make a whole airship full of cookies." ( VS Percival; outro screen )

SEA CREATURE(S): Fur Seal A SINGLE WORD: “Adventure.” A NIGHTMARE: Unable to see, or find, her father / Loosing Vyrn, Gai, and Lyria

#⚜; djeeta: headcanons #∘Dash Games #>stares at the outro line for Perci's fight.#Djeeta you're so cute awjeglka #∘Queue

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fanfoolishness · 3 years

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Interview with a Fic Writer

Tagged by @novantinuum, thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3?

242 works. The actual fuck??? Wow, me. Of course, this does span about 9 years, so I guess that's not that insane?

What’s your total word count on AO3

549,737! But that averages out to only 2271 words per story, haha. You got me! I think I have less than 10 fics that have more than 1 chapter. I love one-shots, what can I say?

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh, you want to get into this? All right. We'll get into this:

The X-Files, proto-fandom, ur-fandom, first OTP ever... yeah, 15-year-old me went. WILD. Many horrible Mulder/Scully stories, and some Doggett/Scully and character study stories as well. Mostly not very good, but with occasional flashes of decent writing. Really had a difficult time writing romantic feelings between 30+ year-olds given a) I did not date in high school and b) was 17 and not an emotionally stunted FBI agent.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - not a huge volume of stories, but definitely some very angsty Spuffy and Spike tales.

Harry Potter - just one published fic (Lupin grieving Sirius), and one with Snape and Harry having a heart to heart I could never quite get right.

Then came the dark times (vet school) where I was exhausted and hard at work for a few years and I thought, horribly, I might have outgrown fandom. Thank god for...

X-Men First Class and the undying love of Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr! I'd never fallen for a slash ship before but my god I fell hard for this one and wrote my first fandom smut and my first real AU (mutants with zombies) that I never finished.

Then.... let's see...

Quantum Leap drabbles!

Two Avatar the Last Airbender fics!

Agents of SHIELD fics, mostly focused on Coulson and FitzSimmons, and super angsty.

Bioshock Infinite sads (god I love writing the sad bad dad)!

And then the juggernauts of Mass Effect (my longest fic to date with 30 chapters!) and Dragon Age, which were endlessly productive and are still productive given the variety of different protagonists you can create, different choices, and different relationships to canon characters. I'm still working on a Hawke/Varric fic in the back of my mind here.

There's one random Gravity Falls fic (wish I could have got a little more obsessed with it, or gotten into it while it aired) of Stan sads, and one tiny Avengers ficlet of a sad Tony and Peter.

There's one Wheel of Time fic! Dammit I wanted Rand and Tam to reunite so much sooner than they did.

40-odd Steven Universe fics! So many SU fics!

One random Schitt's Creek fic of David and Patrick!

And finally, The Mandalorian, with 47 fics. Phew!!!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Invitation, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin finds himself in dreams that seem realer than real, reminding him of his loss, but he begins to find a sense of hope again. A promise is kept.

2. The Outstretched Hand, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin is a man of action, but sometimes, the quiet finds its way in. Din reckons with the aftermath of the events of Chapter 14, the Tragedy. (My very first Mando fic!)

3. Not the Sentimental Type, Steven Universe. Priyanka Maheswaran has long prided herself on keeping her emotions in check. But a mother's love can only grow, and sometimes it expands to people she never anticipated. Like the Universe boy.

4. Translation, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages. Some might have thought the Child had no language at all. Din Djarin and the Child grow to understand each other.

5. Full Disclosure, Steven Universe. Just as the world begins to recover from Spinel's attack, Steven starts having nightmares. The more he ignores his fears, the worse they become, until he's left with no other choice but to ask for help. (My thoughts on what would drive Steven Universe Future, and I wasn't far off.)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I really try to! Even sometimes years later if I realize I've missed some. I appreciate each and every one, and have definitely made friendships through comments <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, hell... I'm too lazy to link these but if anyone wants to read them let me know or find them on my AO3!

A Stopped Clock from Bioshock Infinite has Booker DeWitt ravaged by Korsakoff's amnesia from his long-standing alcoholism. Is Columbia real or imagined? Hard to say.

The Viscount's Way shows Varric Tethras having become his parent, and a cruel, hard viscount of Kirkwall.

Songs in the Key of Red shows how Cullen fared under the dark future in Redcliffe in DAI, and they write happy endings, don't they? shows what happened to Varric. Both horribly depressing in different ways!

Two by Two, Hands of Blue shows a not unexpected end to lyrium addiction :( Poor Cullen, he got a lot of angsty developments, didn't he?

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?

Never really got into crossovers or AUs. Just... meh for me!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don't think so.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Charles/Erik, Shepard/Garrus, Shepard/Liara, Shepard/Tali, a mess of different f/f femShep drabbles, and most of my Dragon Age pairings have gotten sexytimes. On the other hand I helped start the NoRomo Mando tag for the Mandalorian to help find non-pairing Mandalorian content. Depends on the pairing and the fandom, for sure.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope, thank goodness!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so! There used to be a Spanish-language wiki linking to some of my old X-Files stories XD

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but friends and I definitely will beta each others' things to help with sticky points.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

ALL-TIME? Just, why? So many ships I loved in years past turned out to have pretty damn problematic elements I didn't see at the time, so it's hard to say... Mulder/Scully actually has a ton of issues, Buffy/Spike obviously has issues... so maybe Hawke/Varric (except not canon!) or Garrus/Shepard or Brosca/Alistair.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Still need to finish my Hawke/Varric fic for after Adamant! I have 3 chapters written that I haven't posted. Maybe posting them will help inspire me....

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and POV writing from different characters; I feel fantastic writing Steven and Greg, though totally at sea trying to write from Connie's POV, randomly. But I think my dialogue and emotional beats are what people tend to tune in for. When I do write romance, it's usually very sweet and silly and pulled from life. I also love writing nature scenes and settings to help establish mood. Mood and emotion and catharsis are my bread and butter, and I like my poetic prose.

What are your writing weaknesses?

What the hell is a long, well-thought-out plot? Like what even is that???? My longest fic with 30 chapters is basically "Shepard has PTSD and hangs out with her crew. They have some funerals." THAT'S IT. How the heck people actually come up with plot that ties into the lore of a fandom I genuinely have no idea and it's the biggest thing that's held me back from finishing original work. I can come up with a setting and characters and then trying to make them do stuff that's more than just talking to other characters and deepening their relationships with them... how the fuck???

I also definitely have 10-20 words that I am in constant danger of reusing like every other paragraph, LOL!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't speak any other languages so I always avoid it as much as possible. I've seen people describe sign differently in fics and picked one way to depict it that made sense to me for Grogu, but that's about it.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, of course!

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Towards Another Day, the tale of how Cullen went from being a templar in Kirkwall to commander of the Inquisition, is definitely up there.

Reverberations is one of my rare multi-chaptered fics and one of my favorite for the catharsis at the end. It makes me tear up every time. 5 times Din and Grogu encounter the Dark Side, and one time they find the Light.

Either a world for the birds (Steven develops a closer relationship with his Uncle Andy, learning birdwatching along the way) or on the subject of rocks (Steven and Jasper finally reach a peace) might take the prize for favorite SU fic.

Tagging (if you’re super bored and would like a fun thing to do) fellow writers:

@lastwordbeforetheend, @runrundoyourstuff, @honestlyhufflepuff, @art3mys, and @fake-starwars-fan if you would like to play!

#fandom #writing #on writing #fanfiction #damn look at me go #memes

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padfootastic · 2 years

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First Sentence Game

no tags, i just saw this all over my tl (dash? page? what’s the tumblr version of it anyway) and got super interested!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some people to take part.

(putting it under the cut because it’s unnecessarily long)

1. James has been able to produce a patronus for a long time. It’s a stag, to no one’s surprise (well no one who knew anyway). He learnt it for Sirius, who’d have frequent nightmares and no way to get out of them

1.1. It was sixth year, and the Patronus charm was definitely not supposed to be taught to them. Lily knows that for a fact, because she has spent a long time poring over past syllabi, doing her best to prepare for a world that’s as unfamiliar and closed off to her as ever, even five years in.

2. Lily didn’t know how this was her life. One day she’d been braiding her sister’s hair and running around the playground in front of their house, and the next that same sister was slamming doors in her face, calling her a freak and she was carted off hundreds of miles away to a whimsical castle where she learnt magic , of all things.

3. It was too late to back out now, Harry knew that.

4. “Are you sure you’ve double checked everything, Sirius? Absolutely everything?” James’ worried face peered into the two way communication mirror the Marauders had invented a couple years prior.

5. “Mrs. Weasley, for the love of Merlin, will you please fucking. stop?”

6. Remus always knew that James and Sirius were close, closer than they were with anyone else, even himself or Peter.

7. His first contact with Rani was when he was two.

8. A knock on the door interrupted the Potter family’s not-so-peaceful dinner time.

8.1. Wakey wakey Sunshines!” A loud voice rang in the room, making James Potter groan and pull the covers over his head, tightly.

8.2. I am freaking out," Sirius Black stopped in the middle of the messy room with his hands on his waist and a tired expression on his face. Just moments earlier, he was running around the room, eerily resembling a headless chicken, screaming about how he wasn't ready.

9. Unlike literally everyone else he knows, Harry has always liked the smell of cigarettes for some weird reason. He didn’t really smoke but the smell of smoke and tobacco and cloves always comforted him somehow. It brought to mind images of the sky, and reminded him of cool night air, wind blowing around him.

10. An awkward silence descended upon the room as soon as Sirius left, no one quite knowing what to say in the wake of his explosive outburst.

11. The deathly silence was broken by a bark like laugh. ‘You think i consider Harry to be a replacement for James?’ Sirius wheezed out in disbelief, unsure where to even begin with that, ‘what a way to announce you have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, Molly Weasley’

12. Hermione Granger, Unspeakable at Department of Mysteries, one third of the Golden Trio, and quite possibly the most famous muggleborn in the Wizarding world was in a fix.

13. Remus cocked his head at the flyer that was haphazardly stuck to the library window.

14. “Phew," Sirius huffed, placing the huge cardboard box in his hands on the wooden floor, "that's all done." He wiped the few droplets of sweat that had gathered on his forehead with the back of his hand, looking around as he did. A slow smile blossomed on his face as he took in the unfurnished room and the bare kitchen.

15. Lily sighed with happiness as she entered the huge classroom.

16. Lily Evans looked to her left, and then her right before quickly pacing the corridor three times, chanting a single word, a name, in her head like a chant.

17. Harry had always been told how much he resembled James Potter.

18. “Is it just me,” Sirius said slowly, “or does that person look like an extremely jacked version of you, Prongs?”

19. “You spoil him too much,” Molly Weasley stated in not-very-mild disapproval one day.

20. For Christmas one year, Harry’s gift to Sirius is a huge collection of pensieve memories.

#hmmm not sure what the pattern is tbh #i start with a descriptive sentence a lot?#but that doesn’t seem like a signature lol doesn’t everyone do that #the last four are unpublished tbf #but i like them so here they are #my fav has to be 18 #it’s a time travel thing i’m working on #three guesses who the ‘extremely jacked version of prongs’ is lmao #i promise you won’t need more than one #it’s also funny how many of these are lily related #for someone who claims to either dislike or not care about her i sure do write her a lot #no. 13 is my infamous wolfstar fic #i say infamous bc it will never not be funny to me #i’m excited for 17 as well bc it’s *supposed* to be a james resurrection fic #possibly with prongsfoot #but it’s been sitting there for ages lmao #20 is also something i’m passionate about #if only i could finish it amirite #i kind of cheated with some of these by going over one line hehehe #oh well too bad #pen’s writing

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Ms. Bodyguard - Codename Sweetheart

Summary: Jensen is used to be the hero on his show. He’s not a coward, not at all - but when he gets attacked by an unknown man the studio insists on a full-time bodyguard. Specialist in protecting people while living with them - you agree to protect Jensen but he doesn’t like the fact a ‘small’ girl shall protect him. Will you be able to protect the unwilling actor?

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Bodyguard!Reader

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Clif Kosterman

Warnings: angst, mentions of stalking, mentions of blood/murder, characters death tension, slow burn

A/N: A shorter chapter to get to know more about Y/N's past and the case.

Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist

“Yeah, I know. I have no authority, and that this is your case, but my client got attacked. The girl stalking him got brutally murdered and you are telling me shit.

Now we can play nice and you tell me if you found, the same fingerprints the attacker left at Mr. Ackles trailer, at the crime scene of the latest murder or not.

I want to clarify if it’s the same perpetrator. I know you couldn’t identify the man and I know you wouldn’t tell me a name.

All I want to know is if the person killing the poor girl is the same man trying to kill my client.”

Jensen listens to you yelling at the cops. He can imagine your hands on your hips, a dark look on your face and your lips, oh your lips contorted in anger.

“Phew, she will kill those guys if she won’t get information.” Jared snickers.

Clif shrugs not hiding the grin on his face. “Y/N can get the information in no time from someone else but, she tried to play nice and exchange information with the local police.”

“They won’t give her shit,” Jensen grumbles while your voice gets louder. He presses his ear to the door when the cop’s mumble something and you finally snap.

“Keep your information. I’ll call someone above your pay grade to get the needed information to save my client’s life. Thanks for nothing.” The door gets ripped open and Jensen bumps into your chest, nose-first.

“Care to explain?” Smirk on your lip you look at Jensen who tries to part his face from your breasts. “I know they look inviting, but this doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at me.”

“Sorry, I was just trying to hear what’s going on.” When he finally manages to get up Jensen sheepishly looks at you. “I didn’t try to��I mean.”

“I get it, Jensen.” Looking at Clif you give him an eye-roll. “Waste of time but at least this way they can’t blame me for not sharing information. We will have all we need back at Jensen’s house. A friend of a friend owes me one.”

Jensen still doesn’t know how to react around you. Again, you have to take the lead and grasp for his hand. “Arm around my waist, no talking to any reporter. We will use the front entrance.”

“Isn’t the back entrance better?” Jared rubs his arm nervously, not wanting you to press him against the wall again.

“Let’s say someone leaked that Mr. Ackles and Padalecki will leave the police station using the back entrance.

The front entrance will be crowded too but at least most of the reporter will be at the backside of the building.” Clif snickers, watching Jensen glance at you, impressed.

“Good. I’ll use the back entrance, act as if I am waiting for you and we’ll meet at Jensen’s place. Do you need help with your equipment?” You smile but shake your head. All your belongings are already in the trunk of your bulletproof car.

“I got everything I need. Let me bring sweetheart home and we can talk about the shit going on here. I got no clue why the guy should kill the poor girl.”

Leading Jensen away from the office you try to wrap your mind around the case.

“Maybe she was part of his plan. A confused young girl with mental health problems. If he was gaslighting her – maybe…fuck…”

“Something wrong, Terminator?” Jensen grins, looking at you while his hand squeezes your waist. “You know, everyone will believe we have an affair.”

“No, they will believe we are deeply in love if you can put on a great show. Whoever is after you wants one of two things.” Humming Jensen glances at your lips while trying to follow your explanations. “He wants you, or he wants you dead.”

“Honestly, both options don’t sound appealing. I mean, not that I would have anything against a nice guy flirting with me, but that guy is ten times flying above the cuckoo’s nest crazy.”

Now you chuckle and Jensen gives you a cocky smirk. “Knew I can make you laugh.”

“Stop acting, sweetheart. I know you are scared to hell and back. Just relax and trust me. I will not let anyone hurt you, Jensen. All you need to do is following my order.”

Not convinced by glad you agreed to protect him Jensen nods silently. “This situation is hard; I know but we need to outsmart whoever is after you.”

“Okay…”

“Good, now back to the Batcave, sweetheart.” Smirking you lead Jensen out of the police station.

Your skilled eyes search the area for any threat. You know, sometimes five seconds decide if your client lives or dies. “Just relax, Jensen. I am with you…”

“Good. Cameras are on; the alarm system too. Not too bad, Jensen. I will have a friend come around tomorrow to check on the windows downstairs and the security. He’s an expert in breaking and entering.” Eyebrows furrowed Jensen watches you built up your equipment.

“A lot of monitors and…” When Jensen tries to touch your equipment, you slap his hand away. “Ouch, what’s that over there?” Pointing toward a strange device he gapes at you.

“Movement detector, newest generation. While you were sleeping like a princess, I checked on your house and prepared everything.

Any movement outside the house, I’ll get alerted. Any movement inside the house, I’ll get alerted so…” Patting Jensen’s chest you smirk. “No late-night dates or girls sneaking into your house.”

“You’re a freaking…I got no clue who you are. I mean, you look like a cute girl, but then you push Jared against the wall as if he weighs nothing. You could take anyone down and…” Humming you activate the last monitor. “Who are you?”

“Sweetheart, if I ever tell you who I am, you are as good as dead. Let’s say a friend of a friend offered me a job during my time at a university which’s name I will not drop.

It was a good offer, an interesting one but sometimes – the things sounding too good to be true are nightmares.” Your voice is steady, your face stoic but your eyes betray you this time.

“CIA? NSA? Someone we do not know about?” Jensen tries but all he gets is a gentle pat to his cheek. “I get it, top secret. The thing with the girl and the knife, Yakuza…”

“I can only tell you that I had missions and I always accomplished them. I was their good soldier, the one they sent when everyone else gave up. Like with the little girl I told you about. I was loyal…until…I wasn’t…” Now your voice cracks and you turn your attention back toward the monitors.

“Someone fucked you over…huh?” Jensen looks over your shoulder, laughing as Clif and Jared walk toward the house. “Dudes look awful on those monitors.”

“Not someone fucked me over. I fucked them over after getting a mission I did not want to accomplish. They didn’t give me a chance…you know.

When you are in, you are in. Or you are out and no one gets out alive…” Walking toward the front door you turn around to watch Jensen frown.

“I don’t know you, but I guess they wanted you to do something immoral.”

“All I did for them was kinda immoral, Jensen, but that’s part of the job. They do not send you to save a girl. They send you to save the girl to blackmail her powerful father to cooperate.

Not that this ever happened, of course…” A blink later you fall silent, remembering Jensen is only a client, not a friend. “This was all hypothetically…”

“Sure…pure fiction…”

“The friend of my friend sent me the file. Let’s see…shit…” Your eyes narrow and you feel the pit in your stomach grow.

“This is too perfect. I mean…fuck me…” Tossing the folder onto the table you get up to shove Jensen's shirt upward.

“Whoa, buy me a coffee first. What are you...?” When you rip the band-aid off his wound your frown deepens. “Something wrong? Terminator?”

“I guess someone tries to fuck me over once again. The wound, it’s like I would’ve attacked you to make sure everyone believes I wanted to kill you, without killing you.”

Jensen watches you carefully check on the wound while his heart beats a mile in a minute.

“You mean, a Terminator tried to kill me?” Chuckling Jensen tries to lighten your mood, but you don’t have nerves to laugh now. “Y/N?”

“The girl, whoever killed her was an expert. The cuts were precise like a surgeon slit her throat open. She must’ve been dead in the blink of an eye without pain.

This wasn’t a crazy fan’s doing, that guy is skilled…” Putting a new band-aid onto Jensen’s wound you try to wrap your mind around the new information.

“He had to get rid of her, Jensen. This was an execution hidden behind a murder. I don’t know what’s going on, but I suggest you stay close to me and do not meet up with anyone.”

Looking at Jensen you take a deep breath. “Tell me who you fucked over for them to send a killer sending you more than one message…”

More tags in reblog. Maybe this way they work...or not.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

@squirrelnotsam

@roonyxx

@neerness

@deansgirl-1968

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

@butifulsoul125

@lyinginthegingerlocks

@neen-illustrates

@janicho88

@woodworthti666

@thevelvetseries

@dreaminemz

@akshi8278

@midnightsilver16830

@mrspeacem1nusone

@ria132love

@caligraphee

@the-witch-in-silence

@justanotherwinchester

@multisuperfandom

@jason-todd-squad

@jadesupernatural

@psychicforest

@luciathewinchestergirl

@magssteenkamp

@palefiregiver

@tranquility-or-chaos

@jxackles

@michellemxndes

@addictedtofictionalcharacters

@gabifernandessn

@waywardrose13

@team-free-will-you-idjiot

@myopiamystical

@rintheemolion

@isthatabutterfly

@bluecornflowers

@rosalynshields

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

----------------

Ms. Bodyguard Tags

@healojane, @bitchwhytho, @marvelouslysherlockedhunter, @mimzy1994, @couldabeenamermaid, @abbessolute, @vicmc624, @fantasydevil2002

#Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x bodyguard!reader #jensen x bodyguard!reader #bodyguard reader #jensen ackles x you #rpf #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural RPF #angst #mentions of murder #blood

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scorpio-skies · 4 years

Text

OC as a Companion Meme!

NAME: Nora Hart

FOUND: Near Sunshine Tidings Co-Op, fighting raiders at the church.

COMPANION PERK: The Bear Necessities - Acquire Honey the yao guai as an extra companion.

ROMANCEABLE: Yes

(I was tagged for this a very long time ago, but always wanted to do it! Tagging: @eluvisen @mrninjapineapple @ariejul @sociallyacceptablemadness @lothrilzul @slothssassin @mars-colony @lookbluesoup @tarberrymentats @leporidaefluff @charomiami @beckiboos and anybody who’d like to do it! If you’ve done it before feel free to rb your original unless you wanna make another for a diff OC >:3c but no pressure at all!)

WEAPON OF CHOICE:

Lucky (.357 magnum revolver from FNV ;p)

Combat rifle

I THINK WE SHOULD TRAVEL TOGETHER:

“Then let’s hit the road!”

“Time for another adventure? Count me in!”

“You can count on me, boss!”

“Let’s get going, then!”

“The road’s a-calling.”

“Sounds like fun!”

(Romanced) “Good! I was hoping for some quality time with you.”

(Romanced) “I’d follow you anywhere, love. Lead on.”

USE MELEE:

“This is too close for comfort!”

“Let’s hit ‘em hard and fast!”

“Just go down already!”

“It’s about to get messy!”

USE RANGED:

“I’ve got your back!”

“They won’t get past me.”

“Nothing like a long-distance relationship!”

“Got it!”

OPEN INVENTORY:

“That’ll be twenty-caps. Just kidding!”

“What do you need?”

“Here’s what I’ve got!”

“Sure thing -- just don’t mess up my pack.”

(Romanced) “Oh? Did you get me something nice?”

IF OVERENCUMBERED:

“See, this is why caravans have carts and brahmin.”

“Shame Honey isn’t here to carry that for us… / Why don’t you see if Honey’ll carry it for ya?”

“I mean, I love junk as much as the next gal but... don’t you think you’re overdoing it?”

“Let me carry some of that for you.”

“You’re gonna hurt your back like that!”

“Your pack’s gonna pop…”

STAY CLOSE:

“I’m with you.”

“Right beside you.”

“I’m here.”

KEEP DISTANCE:

“Gotcha.”

“You got it.”

"Sure."

STEALTH:

"The sneaky way, huh?"

"Like shadows."

"Alright, let's go quietly."

"They won't know what hit em."

BACKUP:

“Oh! Sorry."

"I'll give you some space."

“Sorry -- don’t mean to be stepping on your toes!”

BE PASSIVE:

“Always worth negotiating!”

“I definitely prefer talking to violence.”

“Sounds good to me, boss. I’d prefer not to shoot if I don’t have to.”

“Turn on the charm!”

“You’re quite the people person.”

“You’re a real charmer, ain’t ya?”

(Romanced) “That’s my hero!”

BE AGGRESSIVE:

“Just say the word, boss.”

“I’m ready.”

“Guess it’s too late to ask them nicely?”

“Alright. Let’s bring the mayhem.”

“Well, if we can’t talk them down…”

USE STIMPAK:

“Ow… thanks, boss.”

“Ugh, needles… remind me not to get shot again.”

“Phew that’s better.”

“Thanks -- I’m good.”

“Back to it!”

WAIT HERE:

“Don’t go too far, okay?”

“Alright. Hurry back before I get too bored though, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

FOLLOW ME:

“Welcome back, boss!”

“Alright, let’s get back to it!”

“Lead on, boss. I’m with you.”

“Glad to have you back.”

LOVER’S EMBRACE:

“That was a good roll in the hay…”

“Jackpot!”

“Now that’s what I call a rodeo...”

“Morning beautiful/handsome!”

“Could stay all day in bed with you…”

“I love you. I want you to know that.”

DISMISSED:

“Well, you know where I’ll be.”

“Alright then. Take care of yourself, boss. You know where to find me.”

“Okay then. I’ll tell Kammie and Honey you said hi.”

“Alright -- you be careful, though. You hear me?”

“Time to head home then -- come and see us soon, yeah?”

(Romanced) “If that’s what you want, just… come home safe to me, alright? I’ll be waiting for you.”

ENEMIES (LONG RANGE)

“Today is not your lucky day!”

“You’re gonna regret this!”

“Shouldn’t pick fights ya can’t finish!”

“Hope you’ve made your peace!”

(Raiders) “You’re not gotta loot us!”

(Raiders) “You’re not hurting anybody else!”

(Raiders) “Time to answer for your crimes!”

(Gunners) “Let’s teach these thugs how to shoot!”

(Gunners) “I ain’t losing to the likes of you!”

(Gunners) “Hope those caps were worth your life!”

(Insects) “Ugh. These things creep me out!”

(Insects) “Buzz off!”

(Synths/Robots) “I’m gonna sell you for scrap!”

(Synths/Robots) “Time to shut you down permanently!”

(Super mutants) “Why are they always so big and angry?”

(Super mutants) “We’re not on the menu!”

(Super mutants) “I’m not going in some meat bag!”

(Behemoth/Mirelurk Queen) “Holy shit!”

(Behemoth/Mirelurk Queen) “The bigger they are, the harder they’ll fall!”

(Feral ghouls) “These things creep me out.”

(Feral ghouls) “Boss! Ferals!”

(Deathclaw) “Deathclaw! Run!”

(Deathclaw) “Deathclaw! Look out!”

(Yao Guai) “Don’t tell Honey!”

(Yao Guai) “I’m sorry bear!”

(Dogs/Radstags/Brahmiluff) “God I hate having to do that.”

(Dogs/Radstags/Brahmiluff/mole rats) “I’m sorry -- you left me no choice.”

(Critical Kill) “WOO! Nice shot!”

(Critical Kill) “Lucky hit!”

ENEMIES (CLOSE RANGE)

“Bring it!”

“Let’s dance!”

“Look out!”

“They’re on us!”

(Insects) “Ugh -- I hate these things!”

(Insects) “Disgusting!”

(Insects) “You’re really starting to bug me!”

(Synths/Robots) “Where’s the off switch?”

(Children of Atom) “Hope you said your prayers!”

(Super mutants) “Wow, you’re a big fella.”

(Super mutants) “What do these guys eat? No -- don’t answer that.”

(Super mutants) “I am not a snack!”

(Feral ghouls) “Get away from me!”

(Feral ghouls) “Shit!”

(Feral ghouls) “Way too close!”

(Mirelurks) “These guys sure are crabby!”

WHEN ENTERING:

GOODNEIGHBOR

“Well, this looks like a good place to get mugged.”

“Ah, Goodneighbor. Crime capital of the Commonwealth -- watch your back here, boss.”

“Yeah, Goodneighbor has walls but it’s got plenty of cut-throats within them. We’ll need to watch our backs. Also our caps.”

“Oh, boss. You always take me to the ‘nicest’ places.”

“Is everyone’s staring at us, or is that just me?”

DIAMOND CITY

“So, this is the great green jewel of the Commonwealth… I’ll have to get Kammie a souvenir.”

“Hey -- mind if we stop by the market? I wanna see if I can wrangle us some deals.”

“Noodles? Served by a robot? Kammie is not gonna believe this...”

“Do you think these people ever get tired of looking at the walls?”

“So this is the infamous Dugout… You hear a lot about this place in the caravans. Home of Bobrov’s Best! Fancy getting a bottle?”

BUNKER HILL

“These guys are miserly, even by trader standards. If you need anything, let me do the haggling, yeah?”

“Bunker Hill’s a popular stop for caravans. Me and Kammie were planning on stopping here, but I’m not sure they’d let Honey through the gate…”

“I’ve been here before, you know. But it was a long time ago.”

BOSTON AIRPORT

“Do you really think those wrecks could fly? I can’t even imagine what that’d be like…”

“If we could still fly like that… think of all of the places we could see.”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Wow… Just look at that airship!”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Looks like the Brotherhood mean business. Maybe we should move on?”

(After Reveille has triggered) “I don’t really wanna tangle with the Brotherhood, boss. They’re bad for business.”

THE PRYDWEN

“Wow -- just look at that view!”

“This ship is amazing -- and look at all the power armour!”

“Hey, do you think they’ll sell me a suit if I ask nicely?”

THE CASTLE

“The Castle must have been a sight to see when the Minutemen were in charge. Shame about the current tenants...”

(After Castle is restored) “It’s great to see the Castle back in Minutemen hands!”

(After Castle is restored) “The Minutemen have done a great job fixing the Castle up again!.”

(After Castle is restored) “I bet the sunrise is something to see from those walls...”

(After Castle is restored) “Me and Kammie were talking about whether we should join the Minutemen or not… do you think they accept bears?”

QUINCY

(Before clearing Quincy) “I heard about what the Gunners did to Quincy… nothing but a bunch of murderers.”

(Before clearing Quincy) “Look at what they did here… The Gunners are no better than raiders.”

(After clearing Quincy) “I really hope Quincy can rebuild and recover someday.”

THE GLOWING SEA

“So… which of us will turn ghoul first?”

“Is there a way to turn the Geiger counter off? It keeps reminding me we’re dying and I don’t like it.”

“This place… it’s like we’re in a nightmare.”

“I keep seeing things moving in the fog…”

“Do you think they really knew what they were doing when they dropped the bombs?”

“We’ll have to drink a few pints of radaway after this…”

CONCORD

“That vertibird makes an interesting installation...”

LEXINGTON

“I heard Lexington is overrun with ferals… are you sure we can’t go around?”

“I feel like there’s something around every corner...”

“Why can’t the ferals just eat the raiders?”

SALEM

“This place belongs in a horror comic.”

(Devil’s Due) “I don’t like the sound of that...”

(Return egg to the deathclaw) “I’m proud of you, boss. Those deathclaws deserved better… now, let’s back away nice and slow and leave them to it, yeah?”

LYNN WOODS

“Those claw marks on the rock… Deathclaw territory. Stay alert.”

“Try not to make too much noise. If a deathclaw comes after us, I don’t know if we can stop it.”

NAHANT

“Keep an eye out. There’s a floating raider fortress nearby.”

“Caravans have disappeared around here, and the survivor stories...? They’re not good.”

“I don’t think we’ll find anything other than crabs and scrap around here.”

“I hope there’s no big mirelurks around…”

“What kind of maniac wants to live out by the sea, anyway? You don’t know what’s out there!”

CAMBRIDGE

“That police station’s well fortified -- here’s hoping they’re friendly.”

“Why is this place so quiet…? I don’t like it.”

“I thought raiders had taken over the place… not that I’m complaining.”

“Oh. Ghouls. God I wish it was raiders.”

SANCTUARY

“So this is your old home, huh?”

“We should set up a supply line between here and Sunshine! We can help each other out.”

“This is quite a nice place!”

SUNSHINE TIDING’S CO-OP

“Home sweet home!”

“You think we can stop by for some of Kamal’s lasagne?”

“I’ll check in on the animals while we’re here.”

(when greeted by Honey) “Hey there, Honey bear! How’re you today?”

“I’m gonna go check on Kammie.”

“Home is where you keep your bear!”

AGGRESSION: not aggressive/aggressive/very aggressive/frenzied

CONFIDENCE: cowardly/cautious/average/brave/foolhardy

ASSISTANCE: helps nobody/helps allies/helps friends and allies

LOSE AS COMPANION PERMANENTLY:

Too many dislikes

Siding with the Institute

Choosing Institute option in personal quest

Destroying the Railroad

Selling Billy to slavers in Kid in a Fridge

Killing Kent Connolly in The Silver Shroud

Siding with Covenant

Destroying Acadia

Destroying Far Harbor

Siding with the Nuka-World raiders

Raiding the Commonwealth for Nuka-World

Bringing X6-88 near (will turn Nora, Honey and Kamal hostile)

Attacking Honey or Kamal

Killing Phyllis Daily

Killing Paladin Danse in Blind Betrayal

Killing Jules in the random synth encounter

PERSONAL MISSION: Override

Nora can be found fighting raiders at the church near Sunshine Tidings Co-op with Kamal and Honey. After the player helps them dispatch the raiders, they introduce themselves as traders seeking a safe place to set up their business. If the player has unlocked Sunshine as a settlement, they can send them there. This unlocks Nora as a companion, and Kamal as a trader. Honey operates as a guard-bear.

After the player unlocks the Institute for the first time, they return to Sunshine to find the settlement under attack by coursers.

Once the coursers are dispatched, Nora and Kamal have a panicked discussion where Nora worries that the Institute is on to her. Nora and Kamal lead the player to a quiet area of Sunshine and Nora tells Kamal that she trusts the player.

She then confesses that she’s an escaped synth, and that the coursers were after her. She doesn’t know much about her past other than her time with the caravans, but over the years has been the victim of attempted reclamation by coursers. She and Kamal returned to the Commonwealth to try and learn how to stop it.

If the player has not taken Nora to the Railroad or discovered them, Nora and Kamal mention that they’ve heard of the Railroad and were hoping they could help them. The player can then offer to find out more.

If the player has taken Nora to the Railroad before, she will ask the player if they can convince the Railroad to help her.

If the player goes to the Railroad, Tinker Tom provides a holotape. If the player uses it in the Synth Retention Bureau, it wipes Nora’s record from the system as well as some other escaped synths.

After the player wipes Nora from the Institute’s records they can assure her that she’s safe and doesn’t have to run anymore. Nora and Kamal are overjoyed that they don’t have to keep running, and they agree that they want to set up a ranch at Sunshine.

Nora will mention that Honey’s overjoyed too and has taken a liking to the player. The player has then unlocked Nora’s perk, The Bear Necessities, and Honey shall accompany Nora when the player character recruits her.

Honey can be ordered much the same as Dogmeat, but she has a greater carry capacity, health and damage. She can be told to stay at Sunshine.

The player can, however, choose to instead inform Ayo of Nora’s location.

When the player next returns to Sunshine, they’ll find Kamal waiting for them with Honey. He’s injured and frantic, informing the player that coursers took Nora. If the player admits they handed Nora over, both Kamal and Honey will turn hostile.

If the player feigns innocence, Kamal will insist he knows something’s not right.

If the player tries to convince Kamal Nora’s gone forever, he’ll swear to keep looking for her no matter what it takes.

When the player returns to the Institute, Nora can be found but renamed with her synth designation, C9-42. She reacts to the player character with the same deference as other synths, but knows them only as Father’s parent. Although she has the same bland smile as other synths when talking to the player, outside of conversation she will have a sad expression.

#fallout 4 #nora hart #fallout oc #kamal #honey

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doctorthasmin · 4 years

Text

When Ryan trudges in on Saturday afternoon he looks well, guilty. He’s staring at his shoes picking at his cuticles waiting for the Doctor to finish her calibrations.

“You look like you’ve run over someone’s cat what’s wrong?” Graham asks concerned as Ryan bites his lip, kicking a pipe close by out of frustration.

“Hey! Only I’m allowed to kick things in here out of frustration.” The Doctor calls back her head still in the Console, the Tardis beeps back and she raises her head turning to look at Ryan. The goggles are pulled down to hang round her neck as she moves forward pulling off her gloves.

“What’s wrong Ryan?” The Doctor asks gently, pulling his hands apart to give his cuticles a rest. He looks up, biting his lip once more but screwing his eyes shut.

“Ihadafriendoverandtheysawsomethingfromthe-“ Ryan babbles before the Doctor shakes her head pulling him over to her purple sofa.

“Okay let’s try that again, a teensy bit slower.” The Doctor suggested, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“I had a friend over, Sam? From college you know? And they saw -.” Ryan starts before leaning into his hands.

“They saw what kid?” Graham asks, his hand rubbing circles on Ryan’s back.

“They saw my sonic, and well they picked up before I could say it was a toy and when they pressed the button, it shut the down the electric to the whole house.” Ryan admits biting his nail as the Doctor and Graham look on in disbelief.

“Well that’s going to be hard to explain to the electrician.” Graham comments, sighing in some relief that everything was okay.

The Doctor sighs in relief too smiling as she gives Ryan a one armed hug, rubbing his head soothingly.

“You thought you’d outed my alien presence with a sonic? Come on Ryan I ramble about out of century stuff all the time in public, take a load off. I’m sure your friend hasn’t correlated the two incidents and even if they have, that’s okay it’s not your fault.” The Doctor reassures him, watching as the anxiety is released from his body slumping in his chair.

“Sam’s the non binary kid you went to college with yeah?” Graham asks eagerly, Ryan nods confused.

“Tell me they’re an electrician Ryan! Sparkies are expensive we could do with having one on speed dial. You go tell them they can come roundfor Sunday dinner if they sort my electrics out okay.” Graham pats Ryan on the back, cracking his knuckles already thinking about what to do for the roast.

“Okay Yeah sure I’ll ring them, phew I thought this was going to go completely different.” Ryan sighs, pulling out his phone to ring Sam.

Yaz enters the Tardis sighing and slumping into the Doctors arms.

“Long shift?” The Doctor asks, smelling her hair, smiling.

“The longest, some idiot tripped the electric in your street Graham, the whole east of the city is without power it’s a nightmare.” Yaz groans, her eyes closed as Ryan, Graham and the Doctor all widen their eyes comically.

“Best call Sam another day son, time for a trip Doc?” Graham asked as she nods frantically, pulling a tired Yaz towards the console to type in some new coordinates.

Sam came up in a precious fic briefly, thought it would be nice for them to return 😊 I’ve never written an OC before so not sure if I’ll do a one shot with them in it directly or not? I’d like to dedicate this one shot to @amagusspas because they hyped me up so much yesterday 😊 Replies, reblogs and tags are always read and appreciated!

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #incorrect who #doctorthasmin stories

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tasteslikemolecules · 3 years

Note

8 12 13 for the spn asks. Please tag me @boykingsofhell so I can see your response <3

@boykingsofhell - I have to do this in two parts because it got really long...

8. If you could remove one season of supernatural, which one would it be and why?

I would not remove any season of Supernatural if given the choice. I actually think it's an overall good show with some bonkers storylines and some boring episodes, but there's things I appreciate in every season. So if it was a choice, I'd remove none. But if I had to go with one:

My least favourite season to watch is probably the first one. If my friend hadn't told me “Just make it through the first season, I promise it will get good after“ I would have bailed on the show as quickly as I did back when it first aired. Every re-watch I have to force myself a little bit not to skip some of it. Partly it's just a show finding its groove - no one would bat an eye at wanting to skip the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, everyone knows that one was wonky as hell, but somehow the SPN fandom is really protective of the first season's impeccability.

I'm not a big fan of the strict Monster of the Week format and I miss having an overarching story (”finding Dad“ is little more than the initial premise to get Sam to hunt again), but mostly I just don't like the genre much: it' so much more of a horror crime show than the dark fantasy one it becomes later on. I get annoyed by all the “woman screams her heart out“ moments and the other horror tropes. The scenery is great, the colouring is beautiful and the relationship between Sam and Dean is fascinating but the actual plots of the episodes? The dialogue? Phew. There's outliers: “Faith“ is great and so is “Nightmare“ (thanks Sera Gamble), and I like “The Bunders“ but there's hardly any of the stuff that I really love about the show, there's only hints of something good to come.

I'm not saying it's a bad season - I'd go as far and say there is only one really bad episode (monster trucks...), but it's a consistent season of a kind of show I wouldn't care about if it hadn't gone on. It feels dated in ways that season 2 and 3 don't (not just Dean's outright misogyny, although I always find that kind of, um, honest?). But I also care less about the season because I care less about Sam and Dean. I don't even really like Sam yet. I got sympathy for him, sure, but they're still almost... too normal? Narrative wise it makes sense: They're at a point where they had a fucked up childhood and youth, but they still could get away and be kind of normal. Dean could in theory become a regular hunter and Sam could have his normal life away from it all, and they'd have a history of growing up too close to a sibling, but it would be kind of fine. It all feels pretty safe, relatively speaking. No hell traumas. No dying for each other. I guess I need the stakes higher then they ever are in season 1.

But of course I couldn't remove season 1 because there would be a gaping hole where backstory should be. So unless I just got a better first season in return (and I'm not sure what that would even look like) I'd have to go with removing season 14.

I'd mourn some episodes and some Sam and Cas interaction specifically, but I don't like the overarching story and I think it's the strangest most muddled season of all. Almost everything I want to see happens in between the episodes, as if someone forgot to put the camera on the interesting stuff that IS happening somewhere off-screen.

"Stranger in a Strange Land" was a great opener for a season that doesn't exist. I didn't mind Jensen's Michael as much as some people did, and I would have liked them to explore that for a little bit instead of, well, I'm not sure what they actually went for, because it's so incohesive.

I really like when the show seperates Sam and Dean for a bit, and the breathing space it gives while also giving a new tension – because you know they must find their ways back to each other. And I wish the show had been more courageous, in any season really but especially here, to allow that seperation to go on for at least a few episodes (I guess they did do a slighlty longer seperation with Soulless Sam but that was still kindof/partly Sam working with Dean).

I love season 13 a lot and I would have loved to see and know more about the time between 13 and 14. I'm fascinated by the glimpses we get of Sam desperate to get Dean back and not sleeping while running a hunter basis in the bunker and training people and feeling bad about failing Jack (as Mary says: parental guilt). Season 14 has so many starting points and so much potential and squanders almost all of it. Lucifer and Nick – why did we get so many pointless Nick scenes when the real horror for Sam was cut so short? Most of all, I hate how they handled Dean and Jack. They wanted to have their cake and eat it too. They wanted to say Dean loved Jack “like a father“ but he also wanted to kill him from the first episode to the last. And they didn't want to work on making that plausible at all. I can only watch the whole thing and make any sense of it if I assume Dean is lying for the benefit of Sam whenever he claims he has any feelings of Jack being “family“. That when Jack dies, he's sad because he knows Sam and Cas are hurting and also because Dean feels like he failed a task – not because he cared about Jack as a person. Season 14 painted Dean like an antagonist and villian all the time, in so many ways, and then always tried to take it back in the last second. It makes me furious to think about it. On a positive note: all of the flaws make season 14 perfect for fix its. There’s like 10 great plot seeds somewhere and a lot of angst and anger and a lot of weird weird Sam and Dean shit that I love the implications of, but it’s buried under horrible story telling and weird coloring. It’s like the writers were all playing a round of Telephone.

And, and I will repeat this until eventually I'll find someone who agrees with me: the music in season 14 was so distractingly bad. Can't hear the Anthem of Europe anymore without getting semi-war flashbacks to that 'we're going to beat Michael' walk in the car park (?).

#least favorite seasons #season 14 #season 1 #spn #my asks

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

47 for OT4, SFW or NSFW I love your writing! :))

Thank you! I went SFW for this one.

47: you overhear me complaining to my coworker about your ridiculous daily coffee order, whoops

“Oh christ, here he comes.” Duck mutters to Indrid as he pumps hazelnut syrup into a cup, “the one I was tellin you about.”

Indrid, stationed at the counter, tilts his head as he watches the windows, “would he be the one that looks like a lumberjack or the one who looks like a secret agent?”

“The second one. I dunno what it is, but his order drives me fuckin nuts. It’s super specific; dark roast, single origin only, heavy cream until it turns about that color” he points to the wall, “with a half pump of caramel and a half pump of vanilla. You’re gonna be that specific, just make it at home.” He’s busy putting a lid on the drink and therefore misses Indrid’s hand waving.

“I do, and it’s not that hard.” A deep voice makes him turn; the lumberjack, looking more amused than annoyed.

“And since you know my order so well already” the other man, smile, tight lipped, at him before turning to Indrid, “one of those and one large, black coffee.”

Duck starts the drink, making it as fast as he can so he can slink off into the back room. Shit, if the guy rats on him he could get in trouble, he’s already on thin ice after throwing out some rich kid for harassing the staff.

Indrid takes the drinks, mouths, “go” and heads around the counter while Duck makes a bee-line for the supply closet.

--------------------------

Indrid sets the cups down in front of the two men, then slides a plate with a large, hot monster cookie on it between them.

“On the house, as they say.”

“This an apology cookie or a ‘don’t give us a bad review’ cookie?” The lumberjack smirks.

“Both.” Indrid says mildly, smiling and returning to his post.

As he walks away he hears the deep voice whisper, “wouldn’t kick that one outta bed for eating crackers.”

A soft laugh, “Agreed. Pity his friend is an ass.”

When Jake and Hollis arrive a few minutes later to take over for him and Duck, he finds his boyfriend clonking his head into the wall by the break room.

“Don’t worry, love, I smoothed things over.”

“Thanks. Just feel like a dipshit. Both for gettin overheard and complainin in the first place.”

“I assumed it was stress from waiting on interview results.”

“Yeah.” Duck pulls on his jacket, “still feel shitty though.”

“Come, let’s go home. I have some ideas for relaxation.” He purrs, kissing Duck’s cheek.

“How may of ‘em are fuckin’-based?”

“Half.”

“Good, gives us some variety just in case.”

-----------------------------------------------------------

“We’ve paired you with another duo, if that’s okay?”

“Sure” Duck smiles at the Escape Room employee, takes Indrid’s hand as they follow him down the hall, “Aubrey says these are more fun in a group.”

“I look forward to--oh dear.”

Duck turns to see the pair from the coffee shop last week. The lumberjack looks about the same, but the secret agent is dressed more casually than usual. His black hair is loose rather than slicked back, and he’s in jeans and shirt that reads, “Champ” with a dark outline of sea monster on the front. He almost looks cute.

“You’ve been trapped in the lair of hostile, highly intelligent space aliens. You have an hour to escape. Good luck” The employee shuts the door, leaving the pairs to stare at each other.

“Uh, hi. Again.” Duck waves awkwardly

“Hey.” The lumberjack waves back, “so, uh, this is hella awkward, right?”

“Yes.” The other three respond.

“Cool. Look, I dunno about you but I don’t wanna get dissected by aliens. So, bygones?”

The others nods and he smiles, “I’m Barclay, this is Joseph. My, uh, my boyfriend.” It’s distinctly odd watching such a large man blush like a schoolgirl. Joseph smiles, kisses his cheek, then looks around the room.

“Alright, we need to find the four symbol code to enter onto that pad. Spread out and look for places symbols might be hidden.”

They find the first one easily. Indrid’s eye for color and patterns helps them locate the second, and when a clue points to the third being high up, instead of having to construct a makeshift ladder or step-stool, Barclay simply reaches up and grabs it. It does not escape Duck’s notice that both Indrid and Joseph get appreciative looks on their faces when Barclay then moves a “cloning pod” out of the way all by himself.

“I suspect the last symbol is hidden one something that is in...that hole.” Joseph points to the newly revealed wall lined with several cubbies, one of which has danger signs written all around it.

“Not it. Too close to a garbage disposal, and I have nightmares about putting my hand down that at the wrong time.” Barclay shudders.

“I would also prefer not to be the one to reach in; such elements often have a loud noise gimmick and I do not enjoy that.”

Joseph glances at Duck, blue eyes glinting with a not-entirely-friendly challenge.

“Fuck it, I’ll do it.” Duck steps forward and cautiously slides his hand in. Indrid’s instinct was right, as the whole starts vibrating with a loud, grinding sound. Indrid yelps, grabbing the other two men, who in turn jump and scream in surprise. Duck grits his teeth, fights the urge to pull back, and finds a smooth tile waiting for him. When he removes his hand the noise stops, and he grins, triumphant, as he shows off the last symbol.

“WHOO!” Barclay cheers and high-fives Duck as Joseph punches in the symbols, stopping the timer on the wall, “shit, that was wild man, scared the living hell outta me and I wasn’t even the one doing it.”

“Mmmm, my brave hero.” Indrid drapes his arms over his shoulder, kissing him.

“Sap.” Duck teases, kissing him back.

“You know, we make a pretty good team.” Joseph brushes stray hair off his face.

“Yeah. Would, um, would you guys like to go grab coffee or something?” Barclay looks genuinely hopeful, which is why, ten minutes later, Duck is sitting across from Joseph in a dark-wood coffee shop. Indrid has excused himself to wash his hands and Barclay is outside taking a phone call from someone named Mama.

Duck sips his coffee (black) as he watches Joseph measure cream into his mug.

“That explains it; guys who drink black coffee are always weird about guys who don’t.”

“Don’t Barclay drink his black?”

“Only when we’re out, when we’re at home he’s always making fancy coffee. Trying out new recipes. It works well. Or, um, mostly well. There was a green tea cherry espresso that was not his finest.”

“Eech. Heh, that reminds me of the time ‘Drid was so groggy he poured strawberry syrup into his coffee instead of caramel. Didn’t phase him one bit, but I felt like I was kissin a berry patch the whole day. Swear the man’s half moth or some shit from how much sugar he drinks.”

Joseph snickers, “sorry, imagining Indrid as a mothman is a funny image.”

Duck pictures it and giggles, which makes Joseph laugh harder. When they recover, he scratches the back of his neck, “Look, I’m sorry I was a dick about your coffee order. Just havin one of those weeks where everythin got on my nerves.”

“It’s alright. I’m not all that bothered by it. Not intellectually, anyway. Being particular or precise is something people have been, um, less than kind to me about in the past.”

“Nothin wrong with knowin what you like.”

Joseph glances out the window at Barclay, “No, no there’s not.”

----------------------------------

It becomes a weekly arrangement; the four of them meet for some kind of activity, then go to lunch or dinner. Duck learns many things over those weeks; that Barclay can figure out how to reverse engineer Indrid’s favorite cupcakes from a local bakery, that Joseph has a worryingly deep yet very endearing knowledge of bad horror movies. That while Joseph is terrifying during a trivia match, Duck can still wipe the floor with everyone when it comes to the science categories. He learns that Joseph is trans, like him, and that Barclay and Indrid actually went to the same high school but were two years apart and thus didn’t know each other.

Right now, he’s learning that he’s not as good at laser tag as he thought he was.

They went during the cheaper hours, mid-afternoon on a Sunday, and while all four of them are on the same team they’ve gotten separated in the neon-tinted darkness.

He can tell the enemy team has spotted him, and is moving as fast as he can out of range, when a hand reaches out of a darkened turret and pulls him in.

“GAHoh, phew, scared the hell outta me Joe.”

“Sorry, it was safer than calling out.” The space is small, built for kids rather than two twenty-six year olds, and so Joe is pressed right up against him as he watches the door. He might be the only guy Duck knows who wears honest to god cologne, clean and minty smelling, and the scent wraps around him when Joe pulls him back against his chest to hide them from passing opponents.

“Fuck, that was close.” He whispers.

“Don’t worry” Joe murmurs in his ear, voice huskier than normal, “you’ve got me to look out for you.” He breaks away as if nothing happened, pulls Duck’s body out into the glowing chaos, while his mind stays in the little room, wondering what the fuck that was.

------------------------------------

“Can’t believe we got our asses handed to us by a bunch of eleven year olds.” Duck groans as they sit, licking their wounds along with soft-serve from a tiny shack that Barclay swears by.

“That one blonde girl is gonna grow up to be a sniper.” Barclay offers his cone (chocolate and sour cherry) to Joseph, who takes a prim bite.

“It may run in the family; I think her dad was the one with the ‘Go Army’ shirt.”

“Oh, were we not supposed to be going easy on them?” Indrid cocks his head. The others stare at him in mute shock.

“I’m kidding; I was utterly outmatched in there.” He grins before dragging his tongue up his cone (pineapple and marshmallow). When he reaches the tip he opens his mouth wider, taking it all in with a satisfied moan. He pulls off, stray ice cream dribbling down his chin until Joe hands him a napkin. Indrid thanks him, then proceeds to do the exact same thing, over and over, and Duck realizes neither of the other men have looked away from his boyfriend. Barclay’s legs are now crossed, and Joe’s cheeks are pink. Duck can’t really blame them--he knows exactly what Indrid can do with that mouth--but what’s stranger is he doesn’t feel jealous or annoyed. He knows Indrid sometimes struggles with looking, in his own words, “offputting.” It’s nice to see two other people catch on to just how hot he is.

Then again, he kind of wishes Joe would stop staring and eat his own cone; he wants to see what his tongue can do, too.

---------------------------------------------

“Watcha drawin’?” Duck slides onto the couch next to Indrid.

“Just random images.”

“That us with Joe and Barclay?”

“I, ah, yes it is.”

“Like it a lot. Christ you’re talented, it’s like how much you like us is comin’ right off the page.”

“Is, ah, is that so? I hadn’t noticed, ah, oh dear, I just remembered I need to go call Jake about covering my shift.”

------------------------------------------

Duck: That new barcade is finally open, wanna come with us on Saturday?

Barclay: Wish we could, but we got a friends birthday that night.

Duck: No big, let us know if you want to catch a flick on Sunday

Barclay sets the phone down, not remembering it’s a group text until Joe pokes his head out of the bedroom.

“Shit, whose birthday is on Saturday? We need to get a gift.”

“Oh, uh, no, no one. Just, uh, didn’t feel like going out but didn’t want them to think I was, like, angry or something. Sorry, shoulda asked if you wanted to go without me, shit, that was rude.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind time that’s just for us.” He crosses the living room, fiddles with Barclays hair, “but let me know if you want to see a movie Sunday, I’m happy either way.”

“Uhuh, will do.” Barclay nods, not really paying attention, as he imagines silvery hair in the dark theater and holding slender, cool fingers in his own.

---------------------------------

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t actually have that DVD to loan me?”

“I do” Duck shuts the apartment door behind Joe, “but we got some things to discuss first.” He waits until Joe is sitting next to Barclay (lured here by the promise of cookies) and across from Indrid (lives here, not that hard to lure).

“Look, I don’t think I really gotta point out how weird it is that we went from hangin out every week to not seein’ each other for near a month. But what I do gotta point out is why it’s happenin’.”

“We’ve all been busy?” Joe hazards.

“Yeah, but we all were busy before and we made time for each other. Now we, myself included, are cancelin shit.” He takes a deep breath, “Barclay, Joe, you both got a thing for ‘Drid, don’t you?”

Joe nods while Barclay blushes and mutters, “yeah.”

“And ‘Drid, you got a thing for both of them?”

His boyfriend shifts nervously in his seat, but nods all the same. Barclay looks genuinely surprised.

“Well, you three ain’t the only ones realizin’ you want more than you got. Joe, I, uh, I really like you. As in wanna date you. So, uh, that’s where we’re at.” He sits down next to Indrid, who instantly takes his hand.

“That’s...wait, don’t we all want the same thing?” Joe looks between them, puzzled.

“You’d really be okay with me dating Indrid?” Barclay asks softly.

“We’d both be dating him. And I’d be dating Duck as well as you two. Assuming that was alright with Indrid?”

“....You know, I think it is.” Indrid squeezes Duck’s hand, “I was afraid to admit how I felt; I didn’t want to come between you and Barclay, because you clearly love each other, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Duck. But I’ve also seen how happy he is around you, Joseph; there is no reason we could not all work things out to be happy as a, ah, polycule? Is that the term?”

“Think so.” Barclay relaxes, “fuck, I felt so bad thinking that wanting Indrid would fuck everything up, don’t know what to do with my self now that I’m not stressing about it.”

“I propose we order dinner and just...talk.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “I think that will help us sort out where to go from here.”

Duck orders takeout from the Chinese place down the block as Indrid and Joe arrange the living room into a place where they can all sit together comfortably and Barclay grab drinks. Soon they’re gathered on the floor, working out logistics and boundaries and hopes and fears between bites of fried rice and chow mein. Joe keeps notes, curling closer to Duck as the evening goes on.

There’s a part of him that wants to jump straight to sex, to pin Joe to floor and fuck him while his other boyfriends do what they want to him, to Duck, to each other. But this thing between them is a new leaf in spring, vulnerable and just beginning to grow.

So, after dinner, they cuddle up on the couch and floor to watch the midnight movie on local T.V, hands tentatively finding each other and bodies gradually resting closer together in new configurations.

He falls asleep on the floor, Indrid spooning him and Joe resting his head on his belly. Wakes up with Joe curled around him and Barclay cuddled up to Indrid, snoring softly.

Duck slips out of the configuration, pads into the kitchen to start coffee. When Joe sneaks up behind him he gasps, snickers as the taller man kisses him good morning. Then he grabs two mugs, smiling to himself at his luck as he opens the fridge. After all, he already knows just how his new boyfriend likes his coffee.

#meet ugly #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #agent stern/barclay/indrid cold/Duck newton #agent stern/barclay #indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #sternclay #prompt fills #agent stern/duck newton

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selfcareparker · 3 years

Note

(lovely anon) ok so this may sound so dramatic but; let me paint you a picture: i’m responding to your latest message, sitting on the edge of the sofa. i type in “lovely anon” into the search and see this longgg post come up and i’m like uhhh... i scroll down and see the people you tagged and literally. when i saw @ lovely anon. i . cried . like full on tears. my brother goes “what are you doing” “she tagged meeeee” and he continued what he was doing and didn’t care LMAOO but i was so emotional? i love and appreciate you too and aAH IM CRYING!! you’re just really sweet and i didn’t expect it at all and it was really lovely to be a part of something :’)

the kermit pic sent meee but yes yes yes!! when you start uni let me know, lol i’m so excited for you!! let me know how it goes cuz i’m literally hype hahah & yes we will be in our sad corners of the world, missing england but you’re right it’ll be sooooo worth it in the end!!! and oH i’m glad you talk to them lol i truly thought you like haven’t seen them/haven’t spoken to them this whole time😭 that would’ve been awful!

also i totallyyy get what your saying about the english speaking thing. and idk why you’re insecure (well i *knowww* bc it’s not your first language and you’re studying it in college so yuh) but your english is great :)))

lol yeah that makes sense.. my mom took french in college and she remembers NOTHING HDJSHSJ (the fact that you wanna learn MORE languages i- ahh i so admire you.. you literally know so many languages🥺) yea i mean you know a bunch of languages bc you know the base of words lol, but i wonder if because you know latin it’ll be easier for you to learn french? oh- oh wait you said it’ll be easier HAHHAHA

THERES SO MUCH EXCITING STUFF TO TALK ABOUT HDGSJSJSL it’s so wild to me that you can’t watch chaos walking :( i’m a professional hacker tho so i’ll try and find a way for you LMAO (by professional hacker i mean i literally have gotten multiple free trials and i’m pretty sure the hulu police are after me bUT ITS THEIR FAULT BC WHY IS IT SO EXPENSIVE???) i mean the movie was good? and cute? and funny? but yea don’t think it’s gonna be the most fantastic thing haha AND THE DOGGO AWWW (i saw it again today- or my today lol, saturday, aND THESE OLD PEOPLE CAME AND SAT IN FRONT OF ME AND MY FRIEND LIKE ITS A LONG STORY LMK IF YOU WANNA HEAR IT)

SHARK FILMS?!?!! PLEASE READING THIS I HAD NO IDEA YOU WOULD LIKE SHARK MOVIES TOO FHSKSHSHDJDJGAJAYSJS ok so i haven’t seen any of the classics (i’m working on it) but i would probably watch jaws to laugh at it? not like that lmao but like comparing it. OKAY BUT HONESTLY I BARELY KNOW ANYONE WHO LIKES SHARK FILMS AHHH OKAY im adding “the shallows” to my watchlist bc it sounds super good AND SAME AHSJD ANY BODY OF WATER IN A MOVIE I JUST KNOW ITS COMING LMAO watch me not go in the water anymore after seeing that picture HHDJSJ

WHEN I READ THIS I JUST GOT DONE TALKING TO MY MOM ABOUT THE MEG AND THAT SCENE WHERE THE SHARKKK JUMPEDDDD AND ATE THE OTHER ONEEEE AND THEN JONAS HAD TO DO- bro i cannot (i think that one is my favorite because i love me a bit of romance and the subtle romance hAD ME) 47 meters down PHEW could you imagine?? i try not to think too hard about it i’m like “don’t be dumb catherine, don’t put yourself in a dumb situation” (not autocorrect having “dumb bitch” ready i am not lying) and i literally understand... there is no other way to explain 47 meters down

i CANNOT watch horror movies, can’t can’t can’t, i literally hate them i cannot do it!!! the thrill is tempting and it’s cool in the moment but i cant lmao. i don’t have nightmares about scary things (for the majority of the time) but going to sleep i’m like oooohhhhhh shit 🥲 literally what you explained

music !!!! music !!!! music !!!! (u ever write a word and now it looks weird lmao) MY BROTHER DOESNT LIKE MUSIC AND ITS SHIT IM LIKE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU- anyway, my music taste is all over the place i mean......... it’s crazy. earlier today i was listening to meghan trainor’s album “title” oUT OF NOWHERE, but just a few minutes ago i was listening to fall in love with me by earth wind and fire soooo lol .. megan is *chefs kiss*, i’m not familiar with stormzy🙈, harry styles.... IM SORRY IM THAT PERSON but i don’t listen to his solo music EEK i only listen to adore you... and not that frequently... the music video freaked me out... i like niall’s solo music a lot more, which i listen to a lot more. now. one direction. favorite. please & thank you. i have a playlist called “boy bands” and it consists of one direction and the vamps (obsessed with cherry blossom btw) but as you can see my taste is all over the place!! fr fr if i sent you what apple music has as my “favorites” it went from ariana grande to carrie underwood to glee (OBSESSED DONT LET ME TALK ABOUT IT) i mean please if you let me i will nonstop (hamilton HDJSH) talk about music all day😩 & NOOO UR MUSIC IS GREAT HAHSK IM NOT A BIG RAP PERSON BUT DOJA CAT IS MY FAVORITE!!

okay good, i’m glad :) i was just nervous that you did feel that way <3 and GOT IT HAHAJ healthy pressure is always good :’) my friend got me these pens cuz i love stationary and school supplies lol and was like “now you have to write something” soooo yea i feel that! and i saw you posted the ficcccccc literally so proud of you 🥺🥺 i’m trying to decide if i read it tomorrow or tonight..... sleep or a literal beautiful creation made by the sweetest person and is v v nice smut and college!peter and 4.7k...... sleep aint really calling no more.

GIRL ALL OF MY SENTENCES ARE TOO LONG HAHAHAH IN FACT THIS IS TOO LONG SOOO (also why am i 3 days late..😑) anywho it’s 1 in the morning so <33 lovely anon

🥰

oh my god the fact that you cried nearly made me cry too😭😭🥺🥺 (also, your brother LMAO), i wasn‘t even sure if you‘d see it but i immediately thought of you so of COURSE i included you <333

the hulu police lsjsjaiaik, girl i was ready to get a hulu membership when i wanted to watch big time adolescence and i couldn‘t find it anywhereee, and when i got to the payment it said i need a bank account that‘s based in the US or whatever. like bro i was about to pay you!! but i was forced to find it somewhere (and i did, on levidia,— not that i‘ve ever used it because it‘s illegal 😤 i would never!!! i‘d rather support billion dollar companies and spend my money on watching films that i can find for free 🥰🥰🥰 not

i‘ve found chaos walking online so i‘ll watch it som time this week!! also YES TELL ME THE STORY

okay so idk if you watched/are planning on watching falcon and winter soldier but i watched the first episode the other day and they were speaking french (just a few seconds) and I UNDERSTOOD SOME WORDS DLDJDJ and i was so proud of myself. i‘ve only ever learned french with duolingo lol (i only do like 5 mins a day and that‘s why i was so surprised that i understood some of it!!). and yeah apart from latin i feel like italian, german, french and english are all similar in a sense.. i mean obviously they‘re completely different languages but for example there are some grammatical constructions in french that i think i wouldn‘t understand if i only spoke english? so when i translate those things into english you can‘t directly translate them bc you say things differently, but when i translate them into german then it makes more sense to me. idk that‘s something i noticed so i feel like if you already know multiple languages it‘s easier to learn another language compared to if you only know one language and are trying to learn a second one. even if the languages aren‘t similar then i think you get the hang of it easier.

ikd slsjsjs also i don‘t want you to think that i‘m a linguistic genius or anything lmfao, like i‘m only fluent in english and german and i‘m just a wannabe (ew that word) polyglot sksj (yes i had to google polyglot— i do think learning ancient greek would be super cool tho? like imagine studying latin AND ancient greek, whew). and honestly i don‘t think i‘ll ever be fluent in another language bc i don‘t plan on living anywhere other than germany or possibly england and i‘m not dedicated enough to properly learn any other languages esp if i don‘t have anyone to speak the language with. but i still try my best and i just love language/languages as a whole so yeah i‘m happy & just learning as much as i can dkdjh🥰

(I guess language/linguistics are/is my passion (which sounds sooo lame lmaoooo) and the word passion comes from the latin word pati (i think💀) which means to suffer, and in german passion is called Leidenschaft which basically means suffering too, idk why i‘m telling you this maybe you know it already. but ok dumb fun fact, in german you can make compound words with as many words as you like, and the longest official german word is Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz which is a law for the monitoring of labels on beef... this is such a dumb fact but i think about that word like once a day idk why dodjsjsj so... 👁👄👁)

but i‘ll stop boring you with my linguistics talk because truly i don‘t know much about languages but i am interested omg i‘m gonna shut up now.

now water + sharks. (so in non-covid times i always go to croatia with my dad during the summer, and even before ever watching a shark film i was always kind of scared in water.. but after watching so many shark films wldjdj HELP Like you know when you go deeper into the ocean and you can‘t see or feel the ground/floor? anymore.. then i just start imagining sharks. like i can‘t help it i just imagine a shark sneaking up on me or feeling something graze my foot ABD I JUST START FREAKING OUT SSKJSHSJ. idk. anyway kdkdh i do love the ocean/swimming though but the older i get the more i realise how fucking scary the ocean is ( even if we’re gonna disregard sharks)

your brother... what‘s wrong with him? HOw CAN YOU NOT LIKE MUSIC LIKE WHAT THE FAWK

OKAY BUT SAME ABOUT THE ADORE YOU MUSIC VIDEO DLDKDJSJSKSLSLKSKSJSHSH and yeah i have to say harry’s style (styles lol) as a solo artist isn‘t reaaally my cup of tea, and i only like the popular songs from his second album and the first album is only good when i‘m in the right mood (haven‘t actually listened to it in a while though, but kiwi is one of my all time favourites along with only angel but i hate the start, like it takes 40 seconds to actually begin properly). i like mgk and because of him i watched the dirt which is a film about motley crue, and now one of my favourite songs ever is same ol situation and i‘m into rock now lol. +++ justin bieber. I had a justin bieber cardboard cutout thingy😭 i was the biggest Belieber on earth when i was 13-16, but i didn‘t like his last album and tbh he‘s become a bit weird lately, BUT OH MY GOD. i Listened to his new album yesterday and i‘m in LOVE with the song hold on

i really like niall‘s music toooo!!!! And doja cat 😌😌😌😌 And THE VAMPS OG MY GOD. i got to see them live bc they were the opening/support act for little mix and ajdsjskslslsjsjsj. (Also i love concerts, some of the best memories of my life are concerts, i‘ve seen nicki minaj live 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and justin twice and my heart fills every time i think about how excited i was, it was my first concert ever (16th of September 2016 😌) and i was the happiest person alive seeing justin drew fucking bieber (even if i‘m not tooo sure about justin nowadays)

i have a confession? Idk what hamilton is. I mean I‘ve heard about it and i keep googling it but i‘ve never watched it (is it even a film???? or like a proper musical? also pls tell me you grew up with high school musical. i have a few friends who didn‘t and it makes me so sad 😭😭😭 hsm is the best thing to happen to my childhood , the sooooongs— i still listen to some of them every week or month lool they make me so happy)

(Okay wait i was about to recommend some stormzy songs but you said you‘re not that into rap so i won‘t dksksjl)

What you said about my fic AHSLSLSJB (i wasn‘t sure if you sent an ask about it earlier? idk that might have been someone else, so if it was (and you‘ve read it already) i hope you liked it sksjsj i was...... unsure about it. and i have this reeaaallly long peter fic that i started writing in december and that‘s the only peter thing i currently want to write but also i can‘t because idk how to continue kddjj.) but I’m definitely getting back into writing i have a few blurbs that i want to write so 🥰🥰🥰

Oh and pls as soon as you read this let me know: violet or yellow? (it‘s just a tiny thing for my new theme slsksj)

#lovely anon #BY THE WAY: do not feel bad or apologise for not answering straight away #you can take your time i know it can be exhausting (not bc its anything bad but just because its so much and so long) to answer to my shit #all at once*#so really i don‘t mind if you take a few days or a week or whatever to respond #or if you want to you can respond bit by bit/topic by topic whenever you feel like it #so you don‘t have to concentrate on an ask and my post for like AN HOUR DLSKJ but rather do it in smaller chunks #if you want <3 #btw i‘m always so scared that i‘ll type lonely anon instead of lovely dldjdjsksk so if i ever do that i‘m just being #(cue your autocorrect dldkdj) a dumb bitch #its 1 am now sorry if there are any mistakes (i‘ll stop apologing from now now lol but i still am sorry you have to read my word vomit lmao)#*apologis #*from now on #omg

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fanfictionfortheappreciative · 3 years

Text

Support Group - Chapter Two

Ao3 link :)

CHAPTER 2

My whole morning was just like regular. Breakfast in the main hall, where I ate too much food as a force of habit - when my brain realized food was free and in large numbers, it made a connection to the times I had been forced to starve in my closet for days, and from that moment I hoarded food into my body. The consequences of this were that I would be walking around with a tummy ache all morning, but the upset stomach was still way easier than going against the childhood trauma.

After breakfast we went to the common room, and hung out in there. Yes, we were all traumatized young adults who fought and won a war, but we were also still kids, and being lazy on a Saturday is just an important part of being a student. So, while Hermione was searching through flyers and applications for job positions and study possibilities - we still did not know how to get her to relax, although being with Ron had helped a bit - Ron and I were lazily sitting on the couch looking through some albums of the Chudley Cannons, while ignoring the Transfiguration essay that had to be done by Monday.

It was a normal Saturday, but the support group flyer kept appearing in my thoughts. Who had put it there? Which of the Slytherins would it be, and mostly, who would show up? It was not a secret, you know, that everyone still struggled and some people were in need of more support than they were getting. It wasn’t a secret, and not even taboo to talk about really, but it just felt weird to openly share some of the stuff your mind goes through. Nobody wants to remind each other of those bad times, and if your sharing of memories could awaken traumatic feelings in someone else, why not keep them to yourself?

So that is why most talks and memories were shared on late nights, with one of your best friends, while the rest was a sleep. Hushed whispers about nightmares that kept appearing, the people you missed and the way Hogwarts had changed. Late, silent nights.

Thatś why this sudden appearance of a so-called Support Group was… Out of the ordinary, and sparked my curiosity. Maybe I would drop by, say hello and goodbye and leave again, just to see what it was about. But then, they might expect me to share war memories, and that was definitely not something I would be up for. Sharing was a sore subject for me, something I barely even did with Hermione and Ron. Sometimes I did, when I woke up from a nightmare or came back from a flashback, cause I couldn’t just not tell them anything, but the days and weeks I felt hollow and numb 24/7? There was no use in telling them. They would just feel guilty about not being able to help, and apart from numb and hollow, regret would also be added to my emotions.

The rest of morning I spent weighing curiosity against anxiety, and when lunchtime came I still had not made up my mind. That was, until Neville walked over, came sitting next to us and started talking.

“Hey guys! What are you doing today? I was considering homework, but I think I can postpone that til tomorrow, don’t you? Anyway, did you see the new posters? The support group thing? It’s surprising huh?” He grabbed a croissant, put it in his mouth, and looked at us, expectantly.

I didn’t dare reply, as I had not yet made up my mind, but Hermione had already opened her mouth.

“I saw, yes. I don’t think it’s that surprising at all, Neville. In fact, creating a group where people can go when they need help is wonderful.”

“Oh, so are you gonna go?”, I asked, carefully not revealing any interest in my voice. If Hermione was going, then I could just tag along with her, and if both of us were there maybe people wouldn’t expect me to talk. I could just be the quiet Boy who Lived and she’d be the representative of our trio adventures.

“Don’t think so, no. I’m a little busy with all these program applications and to be honest if I ever want to talk I can just go to you two or Ginny, you know”.

She had a point, most of the people in our circle had enough friends or family to go to when in need. That’s why the Slytherin part was not that surprising; they often did not have these connections. Still, with my very close group of friends, I still had nowhere to go or vent. I talked to Sirius and Remus sometimes. I would sneak out of bed at 2 am, not being able to sleep, and go to look at the stars. Sometimes I could actually see Sirius up in the sky. Sitting there, I would start talking and talking about what was keeping me awake, and although it helped, there was not any response, and I think I needed a response.

Sitting at the lunch table I thought about Sirius, about the late night one-way talks, and about the fact that if they were alive, any of them, they would want me to seek a response.

So right there and then, I decided I would go.

“I’m going, yes”, I blurted out. It got me some weird looks.

“I did not know you were that into therapy and support? When did that happen, mate?”, Ron asked me, rightfully so. We both weren’t the touchy feely type.

“Yeah, I know… I’m just curious, and maybe some people will appreciate me being there”. Shit. Was that too cocky? I saw Hermione looking at me observingly, but I did my best to avoid her glance and tried to recover myself.

“You know, cause maybe not everyone is comfortable sharing their stories, cause they uhh, feel like it wasn’t that bad, but if I share something light but bothersome, you know, they might think ‘Oh, if Harry Potter shares that, I can share this’, right?”, I proposed. This wasn’t going smoothly, but they seemed convinced and Hermione’s look stopped being intense. Phew.

“Yeah, guess so”, Neville continued “Maybe I’ll go as well, but not this time… Still a little awkward for me… With the snake and stuff”, he finished. Neville grabbed another two croissants and left the table, walking over to Ginny and starting a conversation there. Ron and Hermione picked up the conversation on Hermione’s study programs abroad, but I did not pay attention anymore. I had made my decision, and I was gonna hold myself to it. Support group it was, then.

It was five minutes to three when I made my way to the Charms classroom. I didn’t want to be early, but I wanted to be late even less. It would have been a bit too ‘Harry’ of me to stumble in 10 minutes late to a war support group and be like “Hey guys, I’m the savior”. Could not do that. Very inappropriate.

The classroom had been adjusted to a more welcoming setting, which had been achieved by moving the school banks in a circle and having no one sit at McGonagall's desk, which was smart, I don't think she would have liked that. On the board was written in chalk, in a very classy handwriting:

"Support group: first meeting. Introduce yourself. Share information in the manner you want. Listen to others. Feel free."

A good message, a little cold maybe, but good. Walking into the classroom, it appeared that despite my efforts of being casual, I still was one of the earliest people there. Better than being late. Most of them were young students, the kids who had been first and second years during the battle. There were about three of them, all Hufflepuff, gathered around at a single desk. They looked vulnerable, and I felt slightly impressed by their bravery of showing up to an event like this. In my second year, there were amazingly many things I would have done, and did, to avoid talking about my problems. To be fair, with the snake and all, I shouldn’t blame myself for that.

The other people looked as they had come here on their own. A few Slytherins, around my age, or 7th years. I’d expected them. It was their meeting. Still, there was tension. Blaise was there, his dark eyes looking down at the desk, focused on picking the grout out of the wooden cracks. A few others were next to him, the Slytherin kids who always used to hang around Snape. Then there was Luna, which surprised me, but only a little. Distracted as always, she was talking to the moving cat pictures that were on McGonagall's desk, and they seemed to be talking back. Curious.

There didn’t seem to be anyone who was taking charge, I noticed. The person who wrote the message on the board couldn’t be one of these kids, right? Maybe they tried to be casual, just like me, and were actually succeeding at it, I thought. Although, the briefness of all the messaging did seem to belong to a strict person. Well, nothing to do but wait.

“Hello everyone, good to see you all, I’m, uhm, Harry”, and as I spoke I realized that I did not have to introduce myself to these people. And that I was an idiot.

“We know Potter, I think we noticed you sometime last year”, Blaise snickered, but not in a mean-spirited way, just regular, Slytherin sarcasm.

I had learned to understand it, a little. It wasn’t like I was never sarcastic, I’d just always thought the Slytherins were mean and cruel. But in actually talking to them, I’d discovered they were blunt and full of jokes that only they understood, but without ill intent. Most of the time, that is.

“Well it said introduce yourself,” I tried to recover, “and after that to share information the way I want to. So, er, hi I’m Harry, and the war still really sucks?” Apparently it had become absolutely impossible for me to act normal and casual anymore. Lovely.

The Hufflepuff kids looked up at me in a confused admiration. They whispered something to each other.

“This is Nicky, this is Mary, and I’m Robb, and we think the war sucks too”. It was a little black haired boy who said this, bright eyes and dark features. He couldn’t be older than 13. How were these kids so cool?

“Thanks Robb,” I responded, “does anyone know when our host is coming in? I don’t want to act like this whole ‘the war sucks’ thing is me taking over the meeting… Do you guys have infor-”

“Terribly sorry to be late everyone. Extremely bad manners, I know. I hope you all have made yourself comfortable and have had the opportunity to introduce yourselves a little. I’m not sure it is neccesary, but nontheless I shall introduce myself as well. My name is-”

“Draco?”, I blurted out, quite suddenly and loudly.

“Well yes, Draco it is, thanks for the introduction, Potter.’ He said this with a tone of amused surprise, and not the snark I was used to, and might even have deserved in this situation. Attempt number three of acting normal, ruined that too.

“I’m, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just, not what I was expecting and all that. Please continue”, I responded in my most civil tone, trying to show him, and everyone else, that I was not going to have a duel with Draco right here right now.

“Thanks, will do. Anyway, hereby I open our first group session of post-war support, there’s tea in the corner and I’d love to hear everyone’s names. Let’s get started, yes?”

#drarry #fic #drarry fic #fanfiction #multichapter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fic

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