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concreteburialplot · 1 month

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Cool About It // 01

01 - Breaking & Entering

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 6.3k

summary; Noah runs into an old friend while visiting his hometown for the holidays. Noah convinces Amelia to meet him on the playground they grew up on to catch up. Reminiscing leads them to a midnight adventure that reminds them all too much of the past.

warnings; alcohol consumption, breaking & entering? stealing? kinda?, hallmark-y, nostalgic, talks of family trauma, cops (acab!), vaguely sad & distraught Noah, uses 'Sebastian' as his last name, 18+ MDNI

disclaimer; welcome to my new short series! reminder that this is hallmark-y bc i began writing it in December lol i decided to challenge myself w this fic in multiple ways, one of the biggest ones was writing it in 3rd person vs my comfy world of 1st or 2nd person. I’ve never written in 3rd person so, if it’s not my best, i apologize, i’m sure it will improve lol

a/n: this is au and follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

It had been quite a busy morning, and Amelia was slowly making her way through the longest line she’d had in a while. She finished heating up a cinnamon roll and snapped a lid on what felt like the 75th peppermint mocha she’d made that day.

“Thanks.” Mumbled the distracted patron and stepped off to the side to grab extra napkins.

“Next.” She said while shuffling dollar bills into the clangy register, then looked up motioning to the last customer. Her hazel eyes landed on a man covered in tattoos pre-occupied on his phone. “Next!” Her call was louder than before and this time edged with impatient annoyance.

A familiar pair of dark brown eyes snapped up at her, his gaze more startled than angry.

Amelia’s brows furrowed together and as if on cue, the register dinged closed in time with her realization.

She’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Noah?”

The soft velvet of her voice yanked each edge of Noah’s mouth into a wide toothy smile. “Scout?” He asked in the same caught-off-guard tone. His voice was much deeper than she remembered, and he seemed taller, if that was even possible.

She chuckled at the fact that he used his old nickname for her and felt a tinge of warmth bloom on her cheeks. The ends of her pink lips curled up into an adorably genuine smile. “What are you doing here?” She pressed her palms flat against the cold counter leaning forward and letting soft chocolate curls spill over her shoulder.

“Oh, uh, I’m here with Nicholas.” He thumbed over his shoulder towards the town. “He’s here visiting his family, I just tagged along.”

Tagged along.

She should’ve known, of course Noah would be down here with Nick’s family for Christmas. Where else would he be?

“Oh,” She smiled tenderly at his words and nodded. “Of course.”

Every now and then she’d run into Nicholas whenever he came back to town or ran into his parents while out and about, but it was never anything of significance. Whenever it was Nicholas, she wanted more than anything to inquire about Noah or the band but always kept the interactions short, sweet and reserved. The last thing she wanted was to come off as wanting to “catch up” after they gained a larger audience for clout.

He grinned back at her and there was a quiet moment shared between them, as if they both didn’t know what to say. The feeling in the air swung from having nothing to say to having so many words that it was overwhelming to speak.

The gentle moment was broken by the bell dinging above the door as a new customer walked in.

Her first impulse was to make his usual but stopped herself. “Oh um, whatcha want?” She asked, realizing that his tastes had probably changed since he was 16.

“Just a vanilla cold brew is fine, thank you.” He said with a tight-lipped smile, feeling awkward that she was serving him.

She went ahead and filled his cup with the dark amber liquid. “Do you want a snickerdoodle cookie? They’re freshly baked.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Yes please, they’re my favorite.”

She remembered.

Of course, she did.

How could one forget staying up til 2 am at Nick’s house baking cookies and having Top Chef-level trials trying to achieve the perfect spice mixture for what Noah called, “The Most Snick-of-Doodles that could ever Doodle.”

“You got it.” She smiled placing some pastries into a brown paper bag before handing it to him. “I threw in a cinnamon roll for Nicholas, I made sure to give him the one with the most icing.”

“Oh, he’ll love that.” He chuckled gently taking the bag along with his drink. “We should um, catch up soon?”

“Sure.” She pressed her lips together to keep her grin from growing too wide.

Cold fallen leaves crunched beneath Amelia’s feet as she navigated through a park that she hadn’t stepped foot on in a good ten years. A cool chill made her tug her thick knit cardigan tight around her thin frame.

“Noah?” She delicately whisper-yelled into the darkness, the meet-up destination barely lit by the full ivory moon. She should’ve known that Noah wouldn’t be content with catching up at a restaurant or at her house or anywhere normal.

“Scout!” He replied from the swings a bit to her left. A chuckle left his lips, and he quickly clicked the flashlight on his phone, waving it in the air like a search light.

A deep shade of embarrassment coated her pale cheeks, “There’s no streetlights over here!” She walked over and lightly smacked his arm. “It’s dangerous you know.” The weight of her body creaked the metal frame when she fell into the blue swing seat.

“Or you’re just getting old and need glasses.” He teased with a slight slur riding the end of his words.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” She responded with a playful glare.

She looked over at him thinking how funny it was seeing him so large and full grown in such a tiny, low swing. It looked extremely disproportionate and goofy, like a Great Dane in a shopping cart.

He handed her a bottle of cheap red wine, half drank already.

“Oh, got started without me huh?” She sassed before stealing the bottle from his fingers. “Couldn’t have done beer?” She tips the glass bottle until bitter, dry alcohol infiltrates every tastebud, reminding her why she’d switched to martinis or seltzers in her later years.

He waved her off with a tsk, “Too much hassle. Wine was easier. And you took fuckin’ forever!”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes playfully, it wasn’t like she was all that upset over the wine over beer, just that he drank so much of it already. She pressed the mouth of the bottle to her lips once more taking another hefty swig and handed it back to him. “Where’s Nick?”

“Ah,” He swiped the bottle back and took a long gulp. “You know, family stuff.” He wiped the back of hand across his mouth. “I can only handle – so much of it.” His hands motion off his words. “They mean well I just… can’t do too much of it at once.”

Growing up with parents that were as dismissive and absent, then gone all at once like his, knowing how to “family” was odd and foreign to him. As Noah got older, he began to realize that basic family etiquette was a trait he fundamentally lacked, as if he played hooky on some Family 101 course in his formative years. It wasn’t something he inherently prioritized and, at least when he was younger, it would irritate him when friends or colleagues put family above things that he deemed more important, like band related obligations. He never had to deal with family of his own, put it on his schedule or allot energy for it. He simply didn’t understand it.

Sure, he came off as rude at times, leaving friend’s family events early or mentally checking out mid-day. It wasn’t his fault that it was exhausting and overstimulating for him. To him it seemed natural, as if everyone felt that way, something akin to the universal experience of trying to escape school or work. It never crossed his mind that people might actually enjoy their families, nor could he comprehend the necessity for it.

It depended on who, what and when but for the most part it was exhausting to him. Some groups were better than others, like Nick’s family. Over the years they’d housed him for weeks at a time, months even sometimes. As far as Noah was concerned, the Ruffilo’s were his family. He always came and went as he pleased, always an open-door policy to the Ruffilo refuge. But that didn’t exclude Nick’s family from his unintended ignorance and tendency to run. He just could only take so much at once. Lucky for him, they never seemed to mind his behavior much. They never batted an eye; they understood him for who he was and why. Their house was one of the only places he felt comfortable, one of the only places he ever called home.

“I know.” She nodded, wrapping her hands around the thick swing chains. “I remember.”

“Right.” He replies solemnly, taking another sip before swapping it back.

Vivid memories filled Amelia’s brain of 14-year-old Noah tapping on her window like a freshly escaped felon looking for asylum. The heavy, panicked breathing and glassy eyes never matched the mischievous grin plastered across his face. Holidays were the worst; she recalls keeping her window unlocked during the winter months, so he’d always have an alternative escape. The Ruffilo’s were a festive bunch that took any excuse to celebrate. Naturally, Nicholas also only possessed so much adolescent tolerance to endure so many familial festivities so, he too would sneak away with Noah at times but, for the most part it was just him and Amelia celebrating holidays together on her bedroom floor.

The air was still between them while she took a couple sips of sanguine liquid trying to catch up to him.

“So, you’re a big ol’ rockstar now huh?” The girl smiled, nudging him with her elbow trying to lighten the mood. Even though the words are positive and light, they tasted so sad on her tongue.

He laughed, something she hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime. She nearly forgot what it sounded like, but it hadn’t changed really, just a little deeper now. His now tattooed hands grasped both metal swing chains and leaned back a little, using the tension to suspend his body while he observed the stars above them. “Not big. Just opening for some real bands now. Finally able to headline our own little tour soon. Fuckin’ took long enough.” He dismissed the compliment immediately, snuffing it into the ground like a shriveled-up cigarette butt.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his response. He might’ve not seen it as notable accomplishments, but she knew better than to place the validity of success in the hands of someone riddled with imposter syndrome.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s pretty fucking cool.” She leaned against the chain closest to the long-haired boy.

His lips pulled to a smile while his eyes stayed focused on the sky. “Thanks.”

She followed his gaze and chuckled, “Sky’s pretty interesting huh?” She teased.

“It is when you barely get to see stars. I never really get to see them in LA. Sometimes I forget they’re even up there.” He replied sadly before sitting back up.

Amelia took another sip of the almost empty bottle, starting to feel the warmth of alcohol spread through her body. Something about the stars and Noah made a memory cross her mind that made her burst out into a cackle. “Do you remember when you put SO much work into your astronomy project for the science fair and fucking Nicholas won with his fucking-”

“Moldy bread!” They said loudly in unison before erupting into booming laughter.

“God I was so pissed.” Noah shook his head, “And then I had to eat his fucking moldy bread.”

“Oh yeah because you lost the bet! I forgot all about that!” Laughter filled her ribcage in a way it hadn’t in years, and it felt really fucking good.

“I was so fucking sure I’d win! I should’ve known, Nick has always been the golden boy. Teacher’s-pet swindling ass.” He kicked the sand just as he would’ve at 8 years old. It’s funny how people’s mannerisms don’t really change all that much as they age. Being there with him on their old playground felt like being in a time machine. “Worst food poisoning I ever had.”

“Didn’t you borrow the telescope you used from Nick too?” She questioned, wondering if she just made that part up in her head.

“Yeah, yeah I think I did actually.” His brows furrowed as he dug through his memories. “You know what? It’s probably still in their garage!”

“Really? Maybe you can find it tomorrow.” She poured the rest of the wine into her mouth, savoring the cheap bitterness of it pooling on her tongue.

“But the stars are so pretty tonight!” He whined in classic Noah fashion.

“Yeah so? What are you gonna do? Break into their garage?” She chuckled jokingly.

He straightened up and looked over at her with wide eyes like a lightbulb just lit above his head - a look she remembered all too well.

“No.” She warned, just like she would’ve back then at whatever scheme Noah concocted in his devious little brain.

He gave her a familiar mischievous toothy grin before pushing harshly off the swing.

“No, no, no.” She sighed as he already left his seat swinging and made his way towards the street.

“Noah!” She called after him. When he showed no sign of stopping, she let out a long sigh, questioning how she ended up having to stop a 6’4 man from breaking into houses in the middle of the night. She pushed off the swing, leaving it clanging and swaying behind her.

“Noah I’m not br-“ Her yell dulled down to a hush when she caught up to him. “I’m not breaking into the Ruffilo house at midnight!” Her words were stern but to Noah they just sounded like a child’s warning against curse words.

“We’re not breaking in ‘melia.” He didn’t match her whisper, his voice was loud and proud for anyone in the night to hear. “I remember the garage code.” He announced with drunken pride.

She scoffed, “And what if someone hears the garage, Noah? Then what?”

He shrugged, “Nick is staying there, we’ll just say we were trying to see him or something. You know I have free reign there anyway.”

“This is a really shitty plan, Noah.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a displeased frown.

“It’s a great plan.” He stated confidently, walking in long strides that she could barely keep up with. “You know all my plans are great.”

“Hmm.” She hummed skeptically. “Statistically, I don’t think that’s true.”

Walking down the street with Noah to Nick’s family home in the dead of the night felt so… familiar, as if she was walking in the same exact footsteps as 15-year-old Amelia had, like her memories were tangible in her hands again. She tightened her fists slightly to remind herself that the past was not solid in her hands again. She wasn’t 15 again on some spontaneous, teenage adventure – but the alcohol-fueled adrenaline prickling at her fingertips begged to differ.

Even past midnight, the small neighborhood’s Christmas lights shined bright. Normally, she’d find them obnoxious, but tonight they seemed much sweeter, only adding to the nostalgia.

“Oh no? All of my plans worked out one way or another.” He defended as if it was factual with a straightened back and pointed finger. “All but one.”

Her brows knitted tightly together at his words, because in her memory, there was a good chunk of her life spent stuck in detention because of his schemes.

“And which one would that be?” She sassed back, watching as his speed picked up even more after her question.

“Not important.” He waved the brunette off, “C’mon, we’re here.”

Unexpectedly, his hand slips around her wrist, and it wraps tingly electricity up her arm then across her entire body. All at once the butterflies that used to be so perpetually embedded in her stomach returned in a rampant flurry. Her gaze slowly snapped up to meet his face. His smile hadn’t changed in the near 10 years apart and neither did the bright glint in his espresso eyes. Time seemed to slow around them for that split second where the electricity sizzled beneath both their fingertips and their eyes found each other’s just as easily as they used to. In that brief moment she could’ve sworn she was looking into the eyes of rail thin, tattooless teenage Noah.

“I know they got a Ring doorbell, so we gotta hide between the cars.” He whispered and ducked them both down as he weaved her through the vehicles in the driveway.

“I can’t fucking believe you talked me into this Noah!” She whisper-yelled at him, wanting nothing more than to properly reprimand him.

“Sh!”

They finally found themselves in front of the garage keypad conveniently out of view of the doorbell camera. Noah blinked blankly at plastic number pad without moving. His inked fingers tapped on his own crossed arm while his tongue stayed lodged between his lips in thought.

“Well? Go ahead! Get it over with.” She insisted, motioning urgently to the garage wanting it to be over as fast as possible. She tucked her hands across her body and into her sides giving her some semblance of comfort. The last thing she wanted was for their childish midnight antics to wake up the entire house.

“Hey! Give me time.” He rushed back, lifting a finger in her direction to shush her.

“Time? I thought you said you remembered it!”

“I do! …I think… if they haven’t changed it.” His tone much less confident than before.

“Noah!”

“Hush!” He pressed a finger to his lips at her and took a hesitant step towards the keypad. With a couple semi-sure clicks, the garage door slid open slowly. Amelia exhaled in relief at how the metal clangs of the garage were much quieter than she remembered. Still though, they creaked too loud for her liking, feeling embarrassment and anxiety flood her body.

“Yes!” Noah squeezed his fists up in victory. “See, told you I remembered.”

“Lucky guess.” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

Her eyes widened as the garage door unveiled a gorgeous white car. It was by no means a luxury car, not a Lexus or anything of the sort, but a high enough model to make you look twice. “Damn Mama Ruffilo, ridin’ in style now.”

Noah grinned as he scoots around the car. His smile was reserved, like she had discovered some award he was keeping hidden out of modesty. “Yeah, that’s the one we got her for Mother’s Day.”

“We?” She questioned, her head cocking to the side a bit.

“Yeah, Nick and me. We each paid half.”

“Oh wow, that’s really nice of you.” She replied softly. It didn’t take a genius to calculate just how much it would cost two broke DIY touring bandmates to pay for a new car, even in halves. The vehicle was shiny and spotless, evidently well taken care of – the type of care you’d put into a possession you never thought you’d own, the type of care that came from deep gratitude.

“It’s the least I could do for ya know… everything she’s done for me.”

Amelia nodded knowing exactly what he meant. It was no secret that he was more than a family friend to them, but it was nice to see that he recognized it too. While Noah might not have attended every family event or stayed for long, he showed his love and appreciation in his own small ways. Gifts were one of his favorite ways of doing so. Yeah, Noah might’ve only stayed at a Thanksgiving for an hour or two for food, but he was there long enough to make mental notes for next year, to bring extra cranberry sauce because Nick’s abuela loves it or extra croutons since Nick’s mom tends to snack on them while she cooks. He paid attention and he loved deeply, even if it didn’t seem that way on the surface.

He rustled around some miscellaneous garage junk in the corner, making more noise than Amelia felt comfortable with. She stood up on her tip toes to watch carefully him over the pristine car with her heart beating in her chest begging to rush him again.

“Ah! I knew it’d be here!” He said a little too loud out of excitement and promptly covered his mouth. His wide brown eyes met hers in a silent ‘oops, shit, sorry!’ plea.

In desperate need to escape the anxiety inducing mission, Amelia ran to the end of the driveway the second she saw the telescope in Noah’s hand. It took him longer than it should’ve just to snatch the item, but she didn’t question it or investigate much when he sped right past her after the garage began squeaking closed.

They made it out in record time, holding in their laughter until they reached the end of the street. It only took one look at each other to send them into a cackling fit. Amelia’s delicate hands found his thin arm and used him for stability, while the laughter shook her entire frame.

When they make it back to the park, he set down the telescope and unravels something she somehow didn’t notice he was carrying before.

“Did you steal that from their garage?!”

He grinned and proudly pulled another bottle of wine, white this time, from the blanket he also borrowed. “Yeah? And I’ll just replace them when I bring the telescope back tomorrow.” He carefully sat the wine down at her feet and spread out the buffalo-print blanket over the grass.

“You are so bad!” She chuckled, smacking him playfully with the excess of her long cardigan sleeve.

“Isn’t that what girls want? A bad boy?” He smirked jokingly, getting down on his knees to angle the telescope just right so that they didn’t need to stand up to use it.

She pressed her lips together as she watched him. Sure, that’s what some girls want, but not her. Even when he was landing them in detention every other day and keeping them out way past curfew – even when everyone else considered him a “bad boy” – she knew he wasn’t, not really.

Even now, whenever he got on stage, covered in ink, growling like a demon – she knew he wasn’t, and has never been, “bad”. Not the way she knew him. Amelia had a talent for seeing through people and she always saw right through Noah, from the first time she ever saw him in the back of her 3rd grade class. And all through adolescence, she saw him clearly through all his stormy confliction and thick brick walls.

Noah never saw it of course; how could he believe that someone as sugary sweet as Amelia could possibly ever see him as anything more than comical the social mask he wore with friends. In fact, he would even go as far to believe his mask was thickest and most opaque around her. Whether or not that was factual, didn’t lessen her ability to see him, really see him.

Being told you’re so wrong for so long, makes you believe that no one could ever see you as right. No matter how many friends Noah had at his parties, or fans in his crowds or girls in his bed, he never felt as though anyone saw him as enough. He got so exhausted from constantly trying to outdo himself that sometimes he forgot what exactly he was trying to accomplish.

Amelia never once believed the “bad influence, bad boy” propaganda their parents or teachers ever accused him of. To her, he was just Noah; the weird emo kid in the back of her classes, the neighbor down the street, the other older “brother” of the youngest girl scout in her troop. Amelia knew Noah at his core.

“Ah, bad boys are overrated.” She waved off his words casually.

He turned and gave her an unconvinced look, “Yeah, sure.” he glared playfully before sitting back on his legs. “Well, it’s ready if you wanna look.”

Amelia crawled across the blanket to meet him and peered through the telescope. Billions of tiny stars flooded the glass lens with twinkles and glimmers you’d never be able to see normally. Fluffy white clouds interrupted the view every so often, but it didn’t take away from the breathtaking scene.

“Whoa.” She mouthed quietly, just taking in the sight. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Sure is.” Noah agreed quietly, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them while he watched her.

They took some turns looking out of the telescope and passing the wine bottle back and forth before finally resting side by side on the picnic fabric. The air around them both was full of dwindling laughter over Noah telling silly stories about him and Nicholas and their roommates in LA. At surface level, he seemed to be doing well, despite claiming to hate LA, he appeared to be thriving there. Perhaps it was just the roommates that he enjoyed living with. Noah was never one to enjoy solitude, at least not for long periods of time. When he lived in their hometown, he was rarely wherever he was staying at the time. Getting comfortable anywhere was never his goal or motive. For the most part, it seemed like he enjoyed the constant change, the running. However, the way he talked about their home in California, all the stories he shared that brought the grandest smile to his face or the loudest boom from his chest all took place at their home. Amelia wondered what it must feel like for him to be back in their dreary little town, and if he rattled off all those stories was because he was homesick.

As the space between them flooded with a silence that was equally comfortable and uncomfortable, a question bubbled up that had been eating at Amelia from the moment she laid eyes on the tired darkness hanging beneath Noah’s eyes. His grin for most of the night was wide and toothy but she knew him better than that.

“So,” She turned her head towards him. “How are you, really?”

His eyes stayed transfixed on the stars above and he let a dense quiet settle over them before speaking.

“It must get so exhausting.” He stated, ignoring her question all together.

Her brows furrowed at his words, “What does?”

“Being so bright all the time.” He stated flatly, with a low dejected tone lacing his words.

“The stars?” She questioned with her brows still knitted.

“Sure. The Moon, the cosmos, all of it.” He brought his hands to interlace over his tummy. “Sure, the moon gets a break during the day and gets to disappear for a bit every month. And the stars get to die eventually.

“Right…?”

“But a star’s entire existence is to be bright - they only exist to be bright and then die. The moon works every night to serve as a giant nightlight and to shift some waves around. It must be so exhausting, all of it – being so bright all the time just to burn out into nothing.”

Noah had always been good at avoiding both his feelings and Amelia’s prying questions. It seemed age and time hadn’t changed that specific skill set. Maybe it’s true what they say, people never really change. It worried her that he might’ve not changed at all in that way.

“I mean,” She shifted her head to face the stars again trying to find the answers in the same place he was getting the questions. “You’re not wrong… but, think about the good that they do. The moon does so much on its own for us, you know the tides, the earth’s axis and all that. But we wouldn’t even be here staring at the sky without it all. They’re pretty and,” She shrugs. “And maybe, sometimes, that’s enough.”

“Right.” He responded curtly, pausing a long while before speaking again. “If the moon had consciousness… do you think it would care that most people know it for being pretty and not for being good at its job?” He pondered, not once looking over at the girl, perhaps afraid that his façade would crumble, and he’d spill the truth if he met her eyes.

Amelia’s brows furrowed together once more as she processed his words, doing mental gymnastics to decipher the underlying meaning. Another skill set Noah possessed was being dramatically cryptic, especially when it came to his internal turmoil. Whenever he had some battle waging within him, he suddenly transformed into a makeshift philosopher.

Looking the way he does, it’s fair to assume that his band had garnered recent attention due to his looks – most men would revel in the fleeting female attention, but not Noah. At least not enough to keep him from being contemplative on the lawn of their old park.

Girls or not, Noah had always been particular about his craft. He was lucky he found Nicholas first since he really let Noah take reigns of the entire operation. Like a true perfectionist, Noah carefully curated every song, every show, every rehearsal – even back when they were just playing in Nick’s garage with shitty amps.

Amelia analyzed his words, thinking over her response carefully. “I think the moon would be grateful for the attention either way.” She commented gently. “As long as she’s doing the job she’s meant to do, her beauty getting noticed is just a bonus. As long as she’s doing what she’s destined to do, I think she’d be content doing whatever she needs to, regardless of the affection towards her.”

“Yeah, I guess she would.”

Looking up at the sky, Amelia noticed just how round the moon was that night and how perfectly it was centered in the sky. It looked like the inside of a circus tent, like the star littered sky was just a patterned fabric pierced right in the middle by a giant moon-shaped hole. It felt like it too – as if they were the only ones in some carnival tent far away from anything bad. Below such a vast cosmos, they were just tiny specs of dust in the universe, and she was grateful for the temporary solitude. After years of not even being around Noah, he still made her feel the same. He had a knack for dissolving any real-life problems when they were alone together. When she was with him, she was in a world of their own making. She wondered if she did the same for him, and for his sake, she really hoped she did.

But alas, the bubble they created together that night was not one that could exist forever, and the big top tent must come down after a grand show.

Amelia and Noah ran out of words, at least ones meant to be said that night. They laid side by side with her right hand and his left not even a centimeter apart.

Noah was unaware of whether it was fear, nerves or sadness that fueled the drumming beneath his brittle ribs, but that same force also tugged an invisible string to lift his pinky.

Amelia’s eyes rounded and every muscle in her body tensed up the millisecond she felt him move up and hover over her own pinky.

But before he got the chance to lock over her finger, there was a frightening rustling behind some playground equipment followed by a bright light aimed right at them, blinding the pair.

“Hey! You kids aren’t allowed in here!” Boomed a deep, authoritative voice.

Amelia propped herself up on an elbow and immediately used her arm as a shield to keep the blinding light from burning her retinas any further.

Noah closed his eyes and let out a deep breath through his nose. It was one of the many familiar sounds from the town Noah hoped to never hear again.

“Sebastian? What an unpleasant surprise.” The voice taunted with a vicious edge.

“Officer Hawke.” The eyeroll was thick in Noah’s voice. “So great to see you.”

The big burly man shifted the flashlight beam to Noah directly. “Not shocking that the first time I see you back in town you’re up to no good.” He moved the light back to Amelia’s face. “Also, not shocking that you’ve reunited with your old partner in crime. Corrupting Miss. Alastor again, are we?”

“Officer, we just fell asleep earlier, we didn’t mean to be here so late.” Amelia lied for Noah like she always had. Her and Nick had been the goodie-two-shoes that were always bailing or covering for the long-haired boy. Well, Amelia was truly good, Nick was just skilled at masking his deviant tendencies, using his sweet golden-boy allure to fool everyone. As much as she hated breaking the rules, she secretly loved when Noah enabled it. Her teenage years wouldn’t have been nearly as fun or memorable without the two mischievous boys. Even just lying in the park with Noah after dark made her feel the most alive she’d had in years. It was exhilarating, no matter how much she reprimanded the boy for his reckless rebellion.

“Mhm. Sounds about right, you covering for Mr. Sebastian here, for god knows why.” He speculated, unconvinced. “It’s like I stepped back in time. It seems you both haven’t changed much.”

While the cop had been berating the two, Noah had already began packing up the picnic trying to end the interaction as quickly as possible.

“Sorry officer, it won’t happen again.” She lied.

“Sure.” He retorted. “Get you and your boyfriend out of here. Don’t let me catch you in here again.”

With that he turned and headed back to his vehicle. It was surprising that he just left the pair– not surprising that he just sat and watched them from the comfort of his cop car across the street.

Amelia helped Noah pack everything up before they made their escape from the park. Shortly after they were down the street, the cop car finally drove off. She walked in the direction of her house, thinking that Noah would part ways to maybe head towards Nick’s house to return the stolen items or to Vince’s where he was staying for the time being, but he stayed walking alongside her. He was quiet, which for Noah was strange, especially with her.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home? I know you’re staying in the opposite direction.” She said, stuffing her cold hands in her pockets.

“I want to. It’s dangerous for you to walk alone.” He replied flatly, kicking a pebble across the sidewalk concrete.

Her house wasn’t particularly far from the other two’s, nothing in the tiny town was necessarily far from each other. With a town as small as theirs, a night walk home wouldn’t usually be considered dangerous.

“Well, thanks.” She replied cautiously.

She let her mind wander to the interaction they had at the park with Officer Hawke. Noah’s mood had been fairly consistent all night up until then. She mentally scolded herself for not realizing that running into the overly familiar cop would affect his demeanor. Maybe she just assumed that after so many years into adulthood he’d be over it, but evidently, it was foolish and incredibly mindless for her to believe so.

The rest of the walk was silent, just filled with the sounds of nature in the winter. The crisp cool air zipping with the wind, crashing into every solid object available while owls coo-ed into the darkness.

Finally, they arrived at the chain-link gate of Amelia’s small home. She rested her arm atop the pointy wires of the fence. Any other night she’d probably invite him in, but it was so late and all of the night’s events had already been enough to overfill her tummy with static-y nerves.

“Well, I-“ They fumble over each other’s words. Warmth blooms across Amelia’s cheeks at the joint misstep.

“You go.” She urged.

“No, you go.” He pushed back with a sheepish grin.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and dropped her attention down to her feet. “I was just gonna say that this was… nice.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “It was really nice to see you again Noah.” Her tone soft and genuine, as her eyes meet his again.

He was unprepared for how her eyes looked with the moonlight shining directly into them. He couldn’t remember the last time he looked into them so clearly. He forgot how different they were from each other, well, they weren’t really – but they were when one spent looking at them as intently as Noah had since he was 8 years old. Her eyes were both a hazel but one much more brown while the other had a pretty emerald hue.

“Yeah, it was really nice.” His words sounded true, but his voice was still strained by the sadness from the walk there. “I’m really happy I went into the shop this morning.”

Her lips worked overtime to keep from pulling into a giant grin and suddenly she was grateful for the darkness hiding the red staining her cheeks. “Yeah, me too.”

Noah sucked in a breath to speak but pauses, before returning again, “Um - Nick’s family is throwing their annual Christmas party this weekend, I’m sure he and the Ruffilo clan would love to see you.” He stated with his words moving slightly faster than normal almost like he was nervous to even ask, which is silly isn’t it? Being anxious to invite an old friend to a holiday party you both attended every year growing up? It shouldn’t be that nerve wreaking, right? He scratched the back of his neck. “If you want that is.”

Her eyes nearly light up enough to cut through the darkness. “Yeah,” She beamed a sweet smile up at him. “I think I’d really like that.”

taglist; @lma1986 @alastriaa @missduffsblog @xxkittenkissesxx @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens @measuredingold @jilliemiw86

[comment to be added to taglist<3]

A/N; thank you so much for reading - again this is my first time writing in 3rd person so i hope it was decent! i hope you enjoyed even though it is definitely not christmas time lmao - lmk what you think! 💗

#hope you liked it!#concreteburialplot works #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #nosh sebastian x fem!oc #noah sebastian series

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queenofthedisneyverse · 11 months

Text

Vampire! Prowler Miles HCs

TW: mentions of sucking bl00d and k!ll!ng people, bad people tho.

Miles G got bit by a radioactive bat, just to be clear.

Kingpin thought it was a good idea to make a radioactive bat and targeted it at Miles (not caring for whether Miles died or not). Miles (and Aaron) doesn't know Kingpin made it, all he knows is that a weird looking bat bit him, it hurt like heck, and know he has superpowers.

He can go out in sun light but STRONGLY dislikes it. Mostly because his eyes are sensitive to the light.

His bedroom is REALLY dark, Rio often makes comments about it.

He got fangs and claws, obviously. But they only come out when he's extremely upset or when he wants them to.

Yes, he can walk on walls and has venomous fangs. His venom will instantly paralyze & numb you.

Aaron knows about it and helps out when he can.

Miles can still eat regular food, but as a treat he usually sucks the blood out of whatever bad guy he was tasked to kill for a mission.

Has a blood storage in Aaron's house just in case he has a thirst.

All out goth/emo of course and loves alternative music.

Has on shades when outside, and indoors depending on how light the room is.

His suit has bat wings attached to them, making him more agile in fights.

Sense such as better sight (only at night), smell, hearing, taste, touch, echo location, and super strength.

REALLY fast, which is why he always wins battles.

He heals pretty quickly, like overnight quickly.

Aaron calls him batman, much to his distaste and annoyance.

Small dating HC'S:

You two totally had the upside-down kiss thing.

You noticed his super strength whenever he got upset and threw things, you calmed him down though. (Your usually scared out of your mind, not because he may hurt you, but because he may hurt himself)

You often wonder why he always wears shades inside or outside. The sun isn't that bad, you had asked him and said his eyes were becoming sensitive. Which wasn't a lie, but you worried about him a lot more.

@d4ridi0rsworld

#prowler!miles #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man across the spider verse #i tried my best #hope you liked it!#Vampire prowler miles au

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und3rwat3r-a5tr0naut · 3 months

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Orange peel theory!

In a romantic relationship, tav asks Karlach, Shadowheart; Astarion, and Lae’zel if they could get them an orange and peel it for them.. How does each of them respond?

Oh Ho Ho!

Karlach: She is so happy to help any one in camp with most anything. Give her that Orange, love, she’ll peel it for you! Her claws come in handy when parting the peel from the fruit. Might steal a bite tho. For her hard work, yeah?

ShadowHeart: Lady of Sorrows help her, you’d be lost with her wouldn’t you? She’ll take the orange and help you peel it with a little smirk like “really?” And hands it back to you.

Astarion: What? You want him to peel fruit for you? Oh come now darling, surely it isn’t that hard. Admittedly, he can’t remember the last time he ate one of these. He’ll awkwardly do away with the peel after some effort and hand it back.

Lae’zel: “chk. Hand it over.”She curtly takes the orange and uses a knife to cut the orange rather than peel it herself. When you get it back it’s in un even chunks, but still without peel nonetheless.

#tried to keep it in character while also having them accept #hope you liked it!#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate headcanon #Baldurs gate imagines #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav

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lyramundana · 10 months

Note

What about yan!minsung x sub!9th mem reader where they can't handle it when the whole world is able to see what's supposed to be only for them to see

Or just some yandere jealous head canons cuz I'm sucker for this shit

(Also can I be 🦋 anon and I luv u)

Omg omg, yandere minsung? 9th member?? Yes and YES. This is my shit. (luv you too my butterfly💕)

They knew they were made for each other from the second they met. Soulmates, people said, and they felt it was the truth. Their souls are one and the same, two sides from the same coin which can't co-exist without the other. And as time passed, these feelings started to part towards a new party, their precious 9th member. The three of them became one unit, bonded together and vowed to always stay like this, right where they belonged.

Of course, idol life isn't easy and is full of hardships. This is their long life dream, yeah, but there are times the sacrifices made feel too much. Luckily, they have each other for comfort and find strenght in this passionate, burning love they share. While the 9th member is beaming in happiness with them and does her best to improve on performances, they don't notice the growing darkness in the boys' gazes, and how their love is slowly becoming a twisted thing.

9th member works until exhaustion to be recognized and satisfy the fans. They want to success, to be admired and have the love of the crowds. They share this with their boyfriends, but they always tell her the same thing: "You already have our love, sweet thing? You don't need anyone else". Of course, this has led to arguments, because Han and Minho are among the most loved members by the fandom and obviously they don't feel the need for such attention whey they already have it. But 9th member doesn't give up, and so they began to climb their way to the top and gain more admirers.

The rest of members are extremely happy and proud for them, but there are two certain individuals that aren't so cheery...

What sucks about being an idol is that you have to be perpetually single for the fans, so they can enjoy their dellusional fantasies peacefully with you. They were all aware of these things before debuting and prepared themselves. But is one thing knowing the theroy and another witnessing it in real life. In the person they love the most and practically worship. They can only explore their love behind closed doors, and in front of the public, act like they are available for anyone. 9th member deals with it like a professional. Han and Minho...not so much.

They always knew their partner was full of talent, all grace and beauty, and they spent hours singing praises to them. So now hearing those same words coming from strange mouths and watching 9th member welcome all of it with a soft smile, the feel their blood boil. What the fuck? Why are they smiling and giggling like that?

When 9th member has a solo or wears revealing clothes, they feel the need to burn the entire agency with everyone inside. That skin is only for THEIR eyes. Those beautiful legs, that soft face, the beaming figure, the curves, it all belongs to THEM. Who do they think they are to go and display their propietry like that for anyone to see? But they can't say anything against it, for this is the jon they chose, and so they have to bite their tongues.

Once they're done, they drag 9th member to a secluded area and teach them a lesson about showing off what's theirs. They cover 9th member in marks, bruising them, treating them more harshly they have never done. The rip off the stage outfit to pieces, leaving them all naked and exposed for them. Right how's supposed to be like. Han eats them out, biting their inner thights until they're red and painful, while Minho scratches them all over and bites. They manhandle 9th member and fuck them over and over until they are breathless, shaking and dumb. Minsung had never been this way before during sex, not this rough and crude. But you know the worst part?

They have enjoyed it. Every.Second.

They realize how good it feels fucking their little sub dumb and fill them with their cum after they had to endure sharing them for the world to see. All those pathetic fuckers can stare and fantasize all they want, but their precious members belongs to them at the end of they day. And during the next couple of days, their body will be filled with the physical proofs of it.

Now, the thing about k-pop industry and relationships is that, if it happens between members from the same group, handling it's very difficult. Even more if they're toxic. Even if 9th member notices how dangerous and toxic the boys are becoming, they can't escape. They can't act on it without jeopardizing the whole group and their career, and the boys are aware of it. So there's no other choice but endure it.

Endure knowing they're not allowed to have friendships outside the group. Endure they can't touch someone else but them and viceversa. Endure they have to be compliant and low their head when Han and Minho are there, let them do all the work. Endure the endless night of rough, harsh fucking because they are jealous of everyone and everything and need to lash out somehow. Endure the lack of solo activities and collabs, because they're not supposed to do anything without them. Oh, and if you wonder, yes, the rest of boys notice this dynamic, but same. They can't do shit without risking everything they've worked so hard for, and Han and Minho make sure to hide the gruesome parts from them. Endure the v-lives where they make a show of placing 9th member on their laps, being utterly touchy with them to the point it's almost inapropiate.

An idol tries his luck? He got into a scandal mysteriously. An stylist suggests 9th member to wear flashier clothes to enhance their body? Fired.

They both control every single aspect of 9th member's life. If they can't keep their partner away from the stage, they have to make up another way.

@sweetracha because she might like this

#hope you liked it!#i'll keep answering requests when i have proper time #i only want to reply to them when i'm at home #poly minsung #minsung x reader #lee know x reader x han jisung #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz hard thought #yandere minsung #han jisung x reader #lee know x reader #requests #butterfly anon

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lisannastraussisanangel · 11 months

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Do you mind writing some headcanons about Laxus & Makarov ?

Their development is literally everything to me!

Every time Laxus so much as smiles at him, Makarov is near tears. He's just so happy to have his grandson back

They bicker. I'm talking petty arguments that last for days. It's literally never about anything important

One time they got into an argument over whether salt was a seasoning or a spice. It lasted for an entire week

If Laxus isn't with the Raijinshuu, he's with Makarov

Laxus likes to sit in Makarov's office and watch him work. Partially because it's quiet in there and partially because Laxus likes spending time with him (even if he won't say it)

Over time, Makarov has started asking Laxus to help him with guild master duties. It started out small like mailing a letter but has progressed to helping with paperwork and planning guild events

Yes, Laxus is dragged to guild master meetings. He hates it

Makarov claims that he doesn't know who he's gonna make the next master but everyone knows it's gonna be Laxus. The guy is already doing the job

At least once a day "LAXUS" can be heard screamed by Makarov. Sometimes it's to get him to stop a brawl. Sometimes its because Laxus is being a shit head

While Laxus has calmed down a lot, there's something about his grandpa being relaxed that makes him want to act up

Makarov has started demanding grandchildren. Laxus is absolutely horrified by the idea

Makarov loves to tell embarrassing childhood stories about Laxus. He even has pictures... well he had pictures. Laxus confiscated them

#the salt thing was a real argument my boss had with my coworker #it got so hostile that they had to drop it #also i have more headcanons so dont be surprised if a part 2 pops up one of these days #hope you liked it!#anon <3 #fairy tail headcanons #fairy tail #laxus dreyar #makarov dreyar #master makarov

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charlescoded · 11 months

Note

Hii is it alright to ask for this prompt for lestappen but with a dash of dc au (doesn't even have to be a full oneshot, you could just tell me what you'd do with lestappen in the dc universe 👉👈)

“never figured you for this much of a cuddler.”

Thank youu (and thank you for the fics, you're a good one and i love them)

I've been thinking about a bunch of dc-inspired fic ideas the last two days so this is perfect anon! You're very sweet, and thank you <3

FORCED PROXIMITY PROMPTS ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ -- found here!

Max flinches back at the sound of a gun going off, loud and much closer by than he would have liked. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to hold a race in the biggest, most supercrime-ridden city in the world was an idiot. He'd signed up to race, not to get in the middle of a gang war.

He peaks through the window and instantly steps back, heart in his throat. Fuck. They're getting closer.

"Come here," Max almost lets out a surprised shout when he hears a familiar voice behind him, Charles' voice. But when he turns around, he doesn't see anyone.

"What?" He whispers back, eyes wide.

Brown hair and a pair of green eyes emerge from a hole in the wall right next to him, and Max almost startles back again. Then a hand wraps around his wrist and Charles drags him inside the tight space.

"How did you--," Max starts, but Charles presses his hand over his mouth to stop him. Shhh, he hisses, and they stand there awkwardly, both on edge, their limbs in all the wrong places. It feels like an eternity before the sounds seem to draw away slightly.

When Charles takes his hand off Max's mouth, he places it on his shoulder instead. "They're going towards the dock..." He says absently, peering through the hole.

Max frowns. "What? How do you know?" He whispers back.

"I heard them talking, earlier, in Italian." Charles explain, and, oh. That makes sense. Finally, Charles looks back at him, the seriousness in his expression going soft around the edges. "Relax, Max... they're moving away from us."

"I know, I'm fine." He says tightly.

Charles looks like he wants to disagree. "Your heartbeat is going crazy." He points out softly.

He gives him an incredulous look. "What else should it be doing right now?"

Fingers flex on his shoulder, but there's no reply, and Max glances down to where Charles hand is clinging to his shirt. He presses his lips in a thin line, unsure of what to do. He's... he's scared, scared that they'll find him--them--, that they'll get hurt, that something bad is going to happen. And maybe... maybe Charles is scared too, no matter how tough he looks.

Max moves slowly, shifts until his back is pressed against some sort of wooden beam, his hands on Charles' hips to guide him along. He ignores the questioning noise, ignores how his heart is trying to beat out of his chest with every creaking sound he makes, ignores that a single wrong step could alert people of their presence.

It takes a full minute before he feels secure enough to move again, to wrap his arms around Charles' waist and drag him into a semi-comfortable embrace.

Charles seems to melt, then, finally understanding, his arms coming around Max's neck in return. It gives them more space to breath, to keep standing for a longer time if they need, but it isn't until Charles relaxes that Max realises how tense he was, too.

“I never figured you for this much of a cuddler.” Charles whispers wetly, and Max gently squeezes his side, knowing exactly what he's doing.

He hides his face into Charles hair. Focusing on Charles, on his hands clinging to Max's shoulders, the scent of his shampoo, the way he shivers when Max moves his hands, it makes it easier. It makes him feels safer.

"Just with you." Max murmurs back.

He doesn't know if they'll be alright, doesn't know if they'll be found by the right people or the wrong ones, but right now, with Charles in his arms, at least he doesn't feel so alone anymore.

Max breaths out softly. No, with Charles in his arms, he doesn't feel so scared anymore.

#answered ask #lestappen #hope you liked it!#someone should tell domenicali that racing in gotham's not a good idea smh #my writing

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roguelov · 9 months

Note

Feel free to ignore this, but what if Morpheus has an s/o with autism and they are on the verge of a breakdown. Morpheus racks his brain to think of things they do all the time and suddenly grabs thier headphones and putting them on, playing her favorite playlist as he's holding her and it's just so cute.

I got you!!! We need some soft supportive Dream

It was too much.

Everything grated on your nerves and senses: the echoing steps of visitors in the castle, the constant unwavering hum of people talking, the high pitched buzzing from the lights in the library, it was all too much.

And when it was too much, you started to get irritated, and when that happened the tears of frustration quickly followed.

You ran to your shared bedroom, desperately seeking shelter. However, upon entering, you were assaulted again with more irritation from the suffocating smoke and annoying popping and crackling of the wood from the once peaceful fire.

Now, you curled up into a tight ball onto the bed, trying to block out the world.

Dream luckily saw you run off and followed behind you, seeing as tears threatened to spill out. Stepping inside the room, he immediately waved his hand distinguishing the fire. He stared heartbroken, trying to rack his brain on how to help you. He had seen you in such a state before, but it had been a while since your last episode.

What do you do? No, what can he do to help? You needed his help in this moment.

It suddenly clicked.

He rushed over to your nightstand, producing your noise canceling headphones. “My dear, can you sit up for me?” He whispered quietly.

You didn’t move at first, but ever so slowly sat up. You refused to look at him as you fought back the tears. Your whole body was wrought tight with tension.

Dream carefully slid your headphones over your ears. He scrolled through your phone, pressing play on your favorite playlist.

The tension in the shoulders and jaw lessened a little.

Dream crawled into the bed, beside you. “Are you okay for me to hold you?”

You slowly nodded.

He gently brought you down to his chest. You sighed deeply. He wrapped his coat around you, blocking out the world for you.

You closed your eyes, snuggling into him. The music and the sensation of only him grounded you again. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Of course, now relax, my dear. I got you,” he hummed.

Dream held you and never let you go.

And he didn’t let anyone dare disturb you.

#hope you liked it!#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #lahunted #ask #overstim is fun they say with sarcasm

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aidansloth · 1 year

Text

{Toilet Stalls - Gareth Emerson X Reader}

Summary: Reader gets their period at a rather unconventional time and Gareth helps.

Warnings: the readers gender isn't specified but they have their period and go in the girls' toilets, period stuff, swearing, they/them and you/you pronouns used.

Words: 1.8k

Taglist: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @manyfandomsfanvergent

a/n: in this one-shot you and Gareth aren't together yet. I tried making it longer than usual, not sure it turned out okay (feedback is very appreciated). this took me less than a day to write??? ohmygodhow???

"Hey! It's not my fault the bartender stabbed you!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have flirted with him, how's that?" Jeff and Grant were arguing again about the last DnD session while everyone else was either enjoying the drama or having their own little chat at the Hellfire table.

You and Gareth were laughing at their dramatics as Eddie restrained from throwing his pretzels at them, affectionately of course. You had been feelinga bit off today, a bit more irritable than usual but their theatrics did make you feel better at least. Gareth also did, just by being there honestly. You didn't tell anyone about the headache you had, but Gareth sort of knew something was up with you. He even offered you half of the roasted potatoes on his plate, which meant a lot since they're the only edible thing the school cafeteria offered. The others were too invested in the arguement to notice the little gesture.

"I told you, I didn't know she was a changeling!"

"That's 'cause your rolls are shit!"

You tried to suffocate a laugh at the last comment (at which Eddie lost his temper and hit Jeff in the eye with the tiny pretzel), Gareth instead didn't even try to contain himself as he burst into laughter. God his laugh was so pretty.

You winced at the strong pain in your head and then it hit you. Fuck. You felt the glob of blood leave your insides, and your face grimaced. You didn't even have a pad on you, you just had to forget to refill your bag with them. You were truly fucked. You stood up in a rushed manner and told everyone you needed the bathroom. They all nodded apart from Jeff and Grant were truly too wound up in their little bickering to notice you. Gareth looked at you leaving, partly worried at your sudden leave. He knew you refused to go to the toilet during lunch (even when the teachers told you off for going during class) because 'Lunch time is for eating, not pissing. Otherwise they would've called it piss break'. You did get detention when you said that to the supply teacher, but his face was totally worth it, or so you said. Either way, he can't just run after you, can he?

You ran across the semi-empty halls not caring about the weird looks you got, it's not like you weren't used to them by now. As soon as you reached the toilet you flung yourself inside the furthest of the stalls and locked yourself in it. Turning around you remembered that the school's budget was indeed shit, as the toilets were without toilet seats. Quickly, you pulled down your pants and saw a dark red stain on them. Sighing, you leaned on the wall near you and slid down it. Probably shouldn't since these walls haven't been washed in God knows how long.

I'm so fucked. What am I going to do now? I'll probably just stay in here until school is over and rush out after everyone is gone.

Were you being a tad bit dramatic? Maybe, but it's not like toilet paper is going to contain your heavy flow. The guys surely didn't have any pads or tampons with them, and it's not like you can ask the other girls in your classes; apart from not liking you very much, they also didn't have the whole 'supporting eachother' thing down.

You tried to steady your breath when you felt your eyes fill themselves with tears, which began staining your cheeks. You bit down onto your lip and tried to blink the tears away uselessly.

★★★

Minutes had gone by, he didn't know how many precisely, but way too many for a quick piss. Gareth kept eyeing the cafeteria entrance but nothing, you were nowhere to be seen. Sure, you didn't specify that you had to pee, but it's not like you were taking a shit in there, you weren't that brave. Maybe you felt sick. Maybe you had been sick. You looked sick from this morning, he knew you weren't going admit that though, so he offered help from the sidelines. I mean, at least they accepted the roasted potatoes, meaning they aren't that ill.

Anxiety crept up in him, he began bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers on the table. What if you fainted or something? What if you were throwing up by yourself? And he wasn't there to help you.

"What's wrong Gare?" his head shot up at his name being mentioned.

"What?"

"Something wrong, you're fidgeting." Eddie stared at him curiously. Gareth gulped, then spoke.

"They've been gone a bit too long, don't you think?"

"They're probably taking a shit." said Grant.

"At school?" they all looked at eachother and collectively agreed that no one in the right mind would do that in the school toilets. Gareth stood up and passed his Dr. Pepper to Jeff, who had been eyeing it all lunch.

"I'm going to check on them." the others nodded at him and Jeff gave him a pat on the back and a knowing look. He sighed at his best friend and left. He made his way through the corridors and when he arrived to the toilets he froze. He could hear sniffling and heavy breathing; he checked if the hallways were empty before cautiously stepping into the toilets. He wasn't fond of entering the girl's toilets like this but he was sure it was you in that stall, and no way in hell was he going to leave you like that.

"Hey, sugar?" he flinched at his own words, realising the pet name that slipped up. The sniffling and the breathing stopped for a second.

"Gareth?"

"That's me." He could hear your voice muffled and hiccup-y; it made his heart clench.

"What are you doing here?" you sat up unconsciously and tried to dry your own tears, as if he could see you. Gareth let out a surprised sigh at your question.

"You've been gone for like, ten minutes you know. And don't say you've been peeing, because it does not take you that long to pee. It doesn't take anyone that long to pee." Gareth sat down in front of your stall cross-legged. You smiled softly, glad that he was here with you. Before you could get a word in you hear some ruffling and then a hand appears under the stall's door. Gareth just gave you a tissue.

"Thank you." you said chuckling.

"So, you going to tell me why you're crying in the school toilets like this is a teenage drama?" he tried to soften the mood, earning another chuckle from you. You stared fondly at the tissue before wiping your tears away.

"I, ehm-" you gulped and steadied you breathing, "I got my period." There was a moment of silence.

"Can I come in?" you were shocked at first, that he wanted to see you now, at all times. You agreed and unlocked the door for him; he got in and sat next to you, giving you a smile.

"Does it hurt really bad? Or is it like, a heavy flow?" you were happily surprised at his words, that he even knew those words honestly. Thank you Mrs. Emerson.

"No- well yes, but that's not the reason I'm crying."

"Why are you crying then?" He looked even more worried than before. You looked down at the dirty toilet floor and started fidgeting with your hands.

"I don't have any pads. Or tampons, for that matter. Toilet paper around my underwear is not going to be enough for the rest of the day and my pants are already stained. It's not like I can just ask the other girls for pads you know," you were starting to ramble and the tears were building up again, "and- and I'm just going to... stay here. For the rest of the day you- you know, 'cause what can I do? I should have remembered to bring pads, fuck! I'm so, so stupid-"

"Hey! You're not stupid, alright? You forgetting something does not mean you're stupid." He turned to you and cupped your face as if you were going to break apart any minute. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping the last tears away. You just stared at him, unable to speak; suddenly Gareth's eyes lit up.

"I think I have a solution to your problem, I just need to go and get it, okay sugar? I'll be gone for just a minute." He quickly stood up giving you a kiss on the top of your head and left running, while you pretended that your heart didn't just skip a beat at the pet name.

As he promised, he came back running and got in your stall rushing.

"Here." You looked at what he had just handed you, it was a pad. You kept your gaze on it, blinking with your mouth agape, unable to form words. Now that you stared at it a bit more, you noticed it was a heavy flow pad, and one of the top brands too. Where did he find a pad?

"Where- who- how, how do you have this? Who did you ask?" your gaze switched between him and the pad.

"No one. I had it in my bag."

"You- you carry pads? In your- your bag? With you?" He chuckled and nodded.

"I usually have them with me in case my sister gets her period and doesn't have any on her, but I thought it was better to carry them all the time, if anyone was ever in need of one." He smiled proudly, happy that his good thinking managed to help someone, especially because you were that someone.

"God, remember me to thank your mom next time I see her." This got a laugh out of him, a sweet, warm laugh that made you all tingling inside.

"Well, I'll let you get changed." He stood up, dusting off his knees and as he was about to open the door you stopped him.

"Wait, what about my pants? They're already stained."

"Right, forgot about that. Here," he took off the sweater he was wearing and handed it to you, "tie it around your waist." You nodded and as you followed his words he noticed how cute you looked with his sweater around you, his cheeks began to darken. God, they're not even wearing it and you're this flustered? You're so whipped.

"Thank you so much. I'll give it back to you tomorrow, okay?" You can keep it if you want. Gareth refrained from saying those words, instead he just nodded. The two of you exited the toilets and stopped in the corridors. You thanked him again and hugged him real tight, his arms around you felt right. Like they were meant to be there, to protect you. His lips turned into a tiny smile and he kissed your cheek. Then the hug broke.

"Well, see you later sugar." You said as you started walking backwards in the opposite direction. You smirked to yourself as you noticed his cheeks getting more red than ever. God, you're whipped.

#gareth emerson #hellfire club #corroded coffin #gareth emerson x reader #the inspiration hit #hope you liked it!#feminist gareth is best gareth

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winterspiderpurrs · 5 months

Note

Omega Steve who previously had to be closeted being taught how to enjoy life with modern omega Peter? Thinking platonic but whatever you feel like :)

Steve wasn't like other omegas. When he was younger, he was sickly. So sickly that the doctors didn't think he would be able to even carry when he got older. Even if he could get pregnant he would most likely die.

But surgery was a big thing they couldn't afford. A nurse told them about planned parenthood and they were able to get an implant so he couldn't get pregnant. The one big thing with this experimental implant was that it changed his scent.

He gave off beta scent now. Which helped him out as he was so much smaller. And once he got in his twenties? He started working out constantly and got a degree as a nutritionist. Recently, he got a job at a facility in Queens, and that's how he met Peter.

He found a decent apartment near work, but to help make things easier he put out an add for a roommate. Omegas only to apply. When Sam offered move in Steve had to disclose he was an omega. Only Bucky knew since they grew up together. And Bucky helped teach Steve how to act like an Alpha. Having a beta scent helps, but no one could find out he was an omega. They could easily take advantage of Steve before he got healthy and in shape.

Most of the omegas who applied didn't stick around after meeting Steve. Steve who looks and acts like an Alpha, thrown off by his beta scent. But that didn't scare Peter Parker.

3 weeks later Peter moved in, and Steve offered to help him.

" This is a lot of pillows and blankets... the heat works good here. Of course we haven't had a bad winter yet so far"

And Peter giggles.

" Thats for my nest! Honestly its not really that much. I have some friends who have a whole closet worth!"

Steve looks down on the two large plastic bins before looking back at Peter. " Oh. I mean yeah. Sure."

Peter tilts his head and looks at Steve, he seems to hesitate for a moment before he nods a little.

" If you want I can make my nest and you could join me? I can show you how I set up...and if you like it we can go shopping and see about you making one in your room?"

By this point, Peter is in a ramble of talks as they unload boxes and bins.

Maybe after several months, Peter asks.

" You know... its okay if you don't wanna answer...but like.. Um I'm a bit of a scientist. Biochem... but I think we have some options to where if you wanna do an implant still...but we get your omega scent back... you were young when you first got it your scent wasn't fully developed yet. Might get a little sick as your body adjusts"

Steve staring at Peter, cause this was something he had debating about for years. Worried if he took the implant out, how would it affect him.

Peter turning red a little bit.

" could have a forced heat... but... I uh. I'm not sure if you have had one... and I've never smelt any ummm..slick... around the apartment... so uhh dunno if that was more of a medical issue or if ya know an Ace issue. Which no not an issue i mean like if you ace your ace and totally valid. Just wanted to help out incase that.... wasn't the issue"

After time Peter invited Steve to his lab he shared with Bruce Banner. Taking samples experimenting with different hormones levels and others additives

Steve finally introducing Peter to Sam and Bucky. And Peter whispering to Steve that he should snag a shirt from Bucky for his nest.

Maybe Steve even sneaks one from Bucky's place.

Steve was in a panic a week later, waking Peter up because his boxers and bed/nest were soaked. Peter giggles and explains things. Steve stared at Peter in horror.

" So. Any time I could get like this by something I like? And and.. other's can smell it to?"

" You've probably smelt others before just didn't realize what it was. The implant you had was extremely out of date and experimental at the time you got it. And since you were so young... you scenting skills are underdeveloped... we will get through this. "

Peter and Steve lived together for another 3 years before they decided to move out. Steve was moving in with Bucky, and Peter was moving in with Tony Stark himself.

#thanks for the ask!#hope you liked it!#omega steve rogers #omega peter parker #writing prompt #winterspiderpurrs #stucky #starker

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bazaarwords · 1 year

Text

@inlovewithfairies — thank you for the prompt!

“They’re doing it again.”

Mary doesn’t look up from her gun. “I’m not looking,” she says, rubbing oil along the barrel. It glints in the sunlight, but still. Not clean enough.

“It’s almost like…” Mary doesn’t have to look to know that Shannon is gesturing, creating a picture with her hands. “A dog looking at its reflection.”

Mary scoffs, keeps cleaning her gun. “Yeah?”

“No matter what you do, the dog will never understand what it’s seeing,” Shannon explains, “because it doesn’t have the capacity for logical thought.”

“Elaborate.”

“Beatrice has been trying to teach her the same basic move—one I know for a fact that Ava knows—for an hour, and—you know, some of this feels too intimate to describe.”

“Exactly why I’m not looking.”

Shannon hums. “Should I avert my eyes?”

“You should be cataloguing every single moment of this. For blackmail.”

“For blackmail,” Shannon says, her words overlapping Mary’s. “Of course.”

The gun is clean enough. Mary looks up at a much more pleasant picture than whatever is happening in the courtyard—Shannon. “You remember when we were like that?”

Shannon looks at her, raises an eyebrow. “Oh? You mean when I used to walk into your room after training with my shirt off and you would sit in the corner and stare out the window—“

“No. No, that is… that’s—you’re lying. That’s not what happened.” It’s exactly what happened, but Mary would rather hop off the roof they’re sitting on and break both her legs than admit it. “It was different.”

“Mm. Completely different,” Shannon says with that smirk. “I was the one that got fed up and dragged you into that closet—”

“Asshole.”

“Language.”

Finally, Mary looks across the courtyard. They’re working with quarterstaffs, up close and personal. Beatrice demonstrates quite literally the first move new recruits learn with the weapons, patient as ever. The move puts them inches from each other, and Ava fucks it up in a way that almost has them knocking their heads together.

If Mary looks any longer she’s going to throw up.

“It’s just…” Shannon begins, “An extraordinary amount of time for them to reset.”

“Are you going to watch them eye-fuck all day, or…?”

“There’s a lot more involved than just eyes—“

Mary stands up, holstering her shotguns. “I have had enough. No. I’ve had way too much.”

A turn of events. Ava catches wind of her audience before Beatrice does.

“Hey!” Ava calls, waving, oblivious. “We’re training!”

Beatrice goes rigid, like they can only see her if she’s moving.

“I’ll bet twenty they do this for another week,” Shannon says through a smile, waving right back.

“I’ll take that.”

Mary knows the voice anywhere.

“Only twenty, Suzanne?” Shannon goads, “You can do better than that.”

“Fifty,” Suzanne offers, sidling up on Mary’s other side. “A month or more.”

“Deal,” Shannon says, “I don’t think they’ll last that long.” She nudges Mary’s leg. “We didn’t.”

“You two have more sense,” Suzanne says, and she’s right. “Though not by much.”

“You know you’re on the edge of a roof, right?” Mary warns.

Suzanne smirks, looking out as Beatrice packs their things up in a hurry, hustling Ava along.

“The point remains.” She turns to leave. “I’ll be back for my money. With interest.”

Suzanne wins one hundred euros, three months later.

She tells Shannon that she’d found them in a storage closet, and Shannon laughs until she cries as she empties her wallet.

Mary thinks that maybe they aren’t so different. It’s a thought she’ll take to the grave.

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masterangst · 7 months

Text

Be Worth Something

Summary: Tav (named Axel) gives Astarion a present, and Astarion sucks it up and returns the kindness by learning to comfort someone else.

Pairing: Astarion × Tav (MxM)

Words: 4.4K

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, a bit unedited

A/N: This is a bit self indulgent. Just a scene I imagined occurring between Astarion and my Tav sometime in Act 3 after Cazador. Also this is for Whump October (it's October somewhere).

No. 31: Emptiness | Setbacks | Take it easy

Gortash was dead. Cazador was dead.

The band of weirdos were getting closer and closer to confronting the source of the little creatures taking their brains for a ride. Everyone agrees it's a good idea to rid themselves of the problem. Astarion would agree as well. He had no interest in becoming a mind flayer. He had his body taken from him once, sure to the hells was not going to let that happen again.

However, unlike the others. Astarion would not be set completely free. Each day felt like a ticking clock towards his shackles back to the shadows and good gods did that not fill him with dread.

"Astarion, freetra starta den lun." Axel's deep voice cuts through the thoughts in Astarion's head. The ranger waits for Astarion's red eyes to meet his piercing gray ones before he smiles warmly. "I have a surprise for you."

Catching himself, Astarion performs a smile. "A surprise? For me?" He clicks his tongue, pretending to be shocked. "How adorably sweet of you."

Axel's chest rumbles with a stifled laugh. "Well, what can I say," Axel's calloused hand guides Astarion's to his soft lips, his eyes looking longingly into Astarion's, "I love to spoil you." If Astarion's heart could still beat, he's sure it would have skipped one.

He had confessed his love for the leader of their group. For the one who had stuck with him no matter what. The stubborn and goofy man who loved the color blue so he made his entire attire blue and somehow made it look good. Astarion told the man he loved him and yet he still is not used to this. Before he would throw back some flirty banter and try not to think about it, but Astarion promised himself he would try harder for Axel. That he would try his hardest to be more genuine.

He still doesn't know what he's doing.

"Is it an excuse for me to not attend this event?" Astarion asks as Axel drags him away and up the stairs of the Elfsong.

Axel smirks over his shoulder, "Oh, yes."

Astarion can't help but smirk back, "My, aren't you a playful little mouse."

Axel snorts with a scoff. "I like to think I'm more of a wolf."

"Don't go telling that to Shadowheart, darling."

Axel stops outside an unfamiliar door and spins on his heels to face Astarion. There is a devilish look on his face. One that intrigues Astarion, and makes him nervous.

"Close your eyes, Starta." Again with that name. A common thing the man likes to call him. The phrase, freetra starta den Lun, has been Axel's version of "darling" it seems. Frustrating considering Astarion has no idea what it means.

With a huff, Astarion does as he is told like a good boy. "If you are leading me to my ultimate death, this is quite an inconvenient time for it."

"Is there a convenient time to get murdered?" The sound of the door creaks open. The faint aromas of lavender, mint, and roses fill the moist air. There's a heat radiating from the side of the room and Astarion knows what is waiting for him before he even opens his eyes.

"You can open your eyes now." A steaming tub of freshly poured water, lined with books, wine, flowers and various soaps presents themselves to him.

The quip dies on Astarion's tongue, like a rat caught in a trap. Instead his expression turns to confusion. "What is this?"

Axel smiles, "I thought you might enjoy some peace and quiet instead of loud drinking. So I found some books for you. I'm not sure if you'd like them, but then I wasn't sure what you might want. I also bought some soaps for ya, I noticed you liked more earthy, flowery smells, so I picked out some of those. I hope you like one of them."

Astarion cups his lover's warm cheek, smiling at the way the otherwise stoic and few words man rambles when he gets nervous. Can hear the way Axel's heart pounds in his chest. Worry plaguing his features. How could he be so worried about something so thoughtful? Did he think Astarion would hate this gift?

"This is too kind." This is true. Axel was always too kind to Astarion. It twisted his insides more than a knife ever could.

To think. Astarion would get his revenge, walk in the sun, and be gifted a man who wanted nothing from him other than Astarion to be happy. He didn't believe such a person existed until Axel.

Axel's features relax and he leans in to press a short kiss to Astarion's lips. When he pulls away Astarion's stomach tightens in anticipation. A gross part of himself awaits for something. He tries to convince himself he doesn't know what it is, but Astarion does. He told Axel he loved him, but has yet to hear the half-elf say it back. Astarion hates how desperate he is to hear it. When was the last time someone said it to him and meant it? Said it not in post ecstasy?

"Not really." Axel shrugs nonchalantly on purpose to tease him specifically. Astarion pouts and drops his hand.

Axel chuckles and cups Astarion's cheeks, "Enjoy yourself. If you need anything…well better tell me now because I'll be downstairs." Axel grins, probably believing he's the funniest man to walk Faerun.

It isn't until Axel steps past Astarion does he realize what the man said. "You aren't staying?"

"I promised Haslin I'd best him in drinking. I can't let him down."

Astarion scoffs and shakes his head. "Wouldn't it be more fun?" Astarion tries again, gesturing towards the tub as he backs away with a button already off his coat.

Axel's eyes roam Astarion's body with appreciation, before stopping at his eyes with warmth. "This is your relaxation, meg louvè. Enjoy it." With that Axel slips out the room, leaving Astarion alone.

Astarion scowls at the romantic display, nauseated even. All of this and just for him and him alone? He could trick himself into thinking he was royalty if it wasn't for the distant roar of the people a floor below.

Astarion sighs and tears his armor off him and chucks it into the corner. His previous thoughts sour the relaxation he's meant to feel when he enters the tub. This act is just another reason why the upcoming battle terrifies him. He already can't offer anything to Axel, but to add in not being able to walk alongside him in the sun? To force Axel to walk the shadows as Astarion will; and soon.

Astarion sighs and eases into the tub. He scans the array of options and lands on lavender and smiles. Sometimes I can't tell if I hate that man or love him.

….

Time was lost on Astarion. He soaked in the tub until he was practically the same temperature as a human and then until the water was cold. He moved on to drying off and laying on the luxury bed with a book in hand. Flipped through some of that until the noise downstairs turned into a stampede of wild animals, shaking the very bed itself.

Curiosity tugged at his skin. Despite his best effort he couldn't stop himself from wondering what fun the others could be having. Drinking, partying, letting the atmosphere carry away your burdens. Astarion isn't a virgin to the wild of a late night tavern, but he can't remember a time he partaken without the heavy dread of knowing it would lead to the demise of some poor fool wanting to use him for temporary bliss.

This time would be different. Cazador is dead.

It was a fact that still felt so foreign.

Besides, he's bored.

Astarion freshens up and strides downstairs to meet the excitable crowd head on. Elfsong was one of Astarion's prowl sites, but he never saw the tavern quite like this. The room stunk with the smell of beer, sweat, and weirdly blood. The closer he got to the center of the mass, the more he began to recognize one source of it. The familiar sweetness from his tasty treat himself, Axel.

The ranger's face was cut on the arch of his brow. Blood had dried where it streamed down the side of his face. His lip was split and his chin bruised, but Axel still wore a beaming smile on his face.

"You're alone for five minutes and already got yourself in trouble." Astarion clicks his tongue. "Quite embarrassing, darling."

Axel holds up a finger to silence Astarion, his movements sluggish. "Don't flirt with me. I'm taken." His voice is quite clear for a man clearly drunk. Axel doesn't seem to notice it's Astarion he's speaking to either, the man's eyes are too focused on the men arm wrestling in the corner. Something stirred inside Astarion's undead heart. Taken. Astarion quite likes the sound of that.

Astarion flashes his signature grin. "Darling, do you not even recognize your own lover? I feel I should be sad?" He fakes a pout.

Astarion's chest squeezes an unbearable amount of feeling into him the moment Axel's eyes immediately melt into complete admiration when he turns and looks at Astarion. Has any creature in existence ever been gazed upon with such purity, such love and adoration? Clerics live to serve their gods they have chosen. They devote themselves completely to their god, body and soul. But is this what the gods feel when their devotees look to them. When they are prayed to? Or are they not nearly as lucky? Astarion turned down being a god in favor of being his pathetic self, but in that tiny moment he imagines he must have been one.

Axel places his hands over his heart, his face screwed up in agonizing fondness. "Oh, Astarion. Meg Starta. How beautiful you look in this lighting." There's a lightness in Axel's voice that's not normally there, his breath reeking of ale. Astarion grimaces, but he can't say he doesn't enjoy the peppered kisses Axel gives his face.

"You may want to take him upstairs." Wyll whispers into Astarion's ear from behind. Axel gets distracted by Haslin, joining the large man at the bar like a moth to a flame.

"He seems to still be enjoying himself." Astarion shrugs, his face plastered with a sly smile.

Wyll snorts, "That may be the problem my pale friend. He has drank twice as much as any of us and already lost in a boxing match. He might need some rest now." Something on Wylls face makes Astarion squint at him. There is something else the man wants to say to him.

"Is that all?" Astarion raises a brow, trying to hide his curiosity behind a veil of annoyance.

Wyll glances over at Axel and Haslin before lowering his voice so only Astarion could hear. "If I didn't know any better. I'd say Axel was looking forward to losing."

Astarion wanted to scoff. To laugh in Wylls face for such an absurd idea. "The man who refuses to lose to anything? I doubt it, perhaps that last eye of yours is failing you."

Wyll shrugs, "I've seen Axel throw punches. He's not the strongest, but he's quick. He was definitely holding back, even if he is drunk." Wylls face droops into worry. "I'm just saying. Maybe it's best if he lays down. Before he burns himself up."

Astarion was not good at emotions. Whether they be his own or others. He was not like Wyll or Haslin. He's not the best at comforting, but that never stopped him from trying even if it meant for him to fail. He could just play it off as a joke later.

Axel never seemed to need to be comforted. His emotions were held tighter than Astarion's, and if he was feeling something he was very honest and straight-forward with it. Most days, most nights..actually every time it's Axel comforting Astarion. Reassuring him, loving him, comforting him.

Even now, Axel looks happy. His flushed cheeks stained red, but has a lazy smile on his face as Haslin speaks to him. A sudden creeping feeling comes up from the shadows in Astarion's mind. Am I the last to know what's going on with him?

He has seen how close Axel is with Karlach. Had discovered a small bit of details about Axel through her or Haslin more than anything from Axel's mouth himself. A part of him wondered if Axel truly trusted him, surely he must if Axel claims to care for him. Then why hasn't he said I love you back?

The doubt was settling in. Astarion was weak to it at the best of times, why would he expect to be strong to it now. Anytime his self loathing led him down a desolate path, Axel always was there to be a guiding hand back to the light. For now Astarion will push those thoughts away and help his lover to bed like he knows someone much kinder than him would do.

He tugs on Axel's sleeve, perhaps a little too rough as Axel stumbles a bit into Astarion. "Time for bed, my love." Astarion bites back his growing annoyance and keeps up his smile.

Axel groans in protest, like a child whining. "Oh, alright. Whatever you wish." Axel let's Astarion lead him back to the room. Astarion is more than pleased to be away from such pounding noise. He didn't realize how loud it was down there until they reached the tranquil silence of their shared room for the night. Up here Astarion could think more clearly; though he can't tell if that's a good thing or not.

Axel shuffles in behind Astarion, heading straight for the bed and collapsing partly on top without care. Astarion rolls his eyes, "You still have your shoes on you big oaf." Axel only responds with a muffled groan and then silence. He's clearly not asleep.

Astarion huffs and kneels down to yank the boots off himself. He will not have this bed soiled, not when he only gets it once. Axel is lucky he doesn't chop his feet off instead.

Astarion kicks his own off and settles them down nicely by the foot of the bed. He sighs and plops down on the edge besides Axel and crosses his arms over his chest with a pout.

Axel stirs and turns over, glancing at Astarion before sitting up. "You look beautiful tonight."

The irritation Astarion felt eases away slightly at those words. Still, that doesn't stop him from feeling whatever strange concoction was brewing in his chest.

"Flattery won't win you anything tonight, darling."

Axel doesn't acknowledge those words. He rubs his head and winces when he feels the cut above his brow. Astarion's eyes widen for a moment and he sighs as he dampens a towel. Astarion sits by Axel's side and presses the cloth to his lover's face.

Axel doesn't even wince. There's something distant in his eyes. Astarion recognizes that look. He would say he has seen it in the mirror when he sees himself, but Astarion can not see himself anymore. That doesn't stop him from knowing. There was something that Axel said to Astarion once. "I know that look, because I'm familiar with it."

Again, Astarion knows he's not the best when it comes to the nursing part of whatever it is they are. For 200 years he's had no one to nurture him, he has forgotten how those muscles work. But he wants nothing more than to be there the same as Axel has. To provide him with something when all he could think about earlier is how he was lacking in that department. Astarion wanted to see him smile.

"Love, you should be more careful with this pretty face of yours. I'd hate to see it ruined." Astarion purrs.

Axel chuckles and scratches his neck, "Ah, I've been through worse." At least he seems aware enough. Not too far gone it seems, which is good.

Wylls words come back to Astarion and the curiosity eats away at him again. He thinks of how he can spin his words into a pretty picture. Astarion fakes a chuckle and a little wave, "It almost seems like you were trying to lose." Astarion laughs.

Axel snorts and shrugs, "Most times I fight in a bar I lose. That's the point." Darkness is creeping into Axel's eyes. Emptiness like a black void. Astarion is unfamiliar with this Axel. Perhaps even unaware this side of his lover existed. Was this Axel's real self or was it the alcohol making his brain fuzzy and tired? Either way, the confession left Astarion feeling uneasy.

Astarion thought more carefully on how to phrase his words and instead decided to take a page from Axel's (or anyone else's) book and ask, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Axel shook his head, "No." That was his usual response. Axel didn't talk about himself or his past. He told stories of beasts and his brother when the group was around the campfire, but those were adventure stories. Axel revealed his mother was a druid to Haslin and that's the most intimate detail Astarion knows. Other than arbitrary details like favorite places or colors or animals.

Astarion couldn't help the words that flowed out of his mouth. "Why do you not like telling me about yourself?" And just like that, fear gnawed at his stomach. He could only stare at Axel with uncomfortable vulnerability, awaiting for the horrible truth to carve another poem into his back.

Axel suddenly springs up, marching over to the vanity with his fists clenched tightly. "Because I have nothing worth telling. My stories aren't worth telling. I'm not worth knowing!" Axel yells, his face full of fury uncommon on his features. He seems to catch his temper and sighs as his body relaxes just enough to calm his voice. "Why can't you understand that?" Axel speaks more to himself than to Astarion.

Astarion was taken aback by the sudden outburst. He has only ever seen anger on Axel during a battle against an enemy, never towards anyone else. Axel is disgustingly kind and empathic. Calm and poised most of the time when he's not being goofy. Astarion isn't sure how to respond. "Axel."

Axel looks into the mirror and Astarion can see his lover's face through it. Axel grimaces and looks away. "I hate feeling like this. I don't know why it's coming up now. Emptiness. Of course I lost that fight. Who holds back on fighting?" Axel spits over his shoulder, the frustration back on his features. "That man should have knocked me out. Most of them do."

Astarion's face twists in sadness. To think Axel would seek out pain in such a way, and to learn he's sought it out before. Astarion wants to reach out to him, but Axel isn't done.

"My life has been kind to me, so why would I insult you by bringing it up? I am not rich, or powerful. I am not exciting. I am boring. I am a boring lover. I am foolish and dumb. You deserve so much more." Axel's face turns from anger to anguish. "You deserve someone exciting. You have the freedom to find that person and I know you will."

Axel hangs his head and shakes it. "And I will not hate you for it. I could never hate you. You deserve someone who isn't like this." Axel gestures to himself. "I have nothing to offer. You think you are the only person who feels unworthy? Feels they offer nothing? I can't even offer you the freedom to explore. How selfish I am to know you deserve more yet keeps you to myself."

Axel looks in the mirror again and the anger returns. "You wish to see yourself in the mirror and I only wish to rid myself of such a burden." Axel rips the mirror from the vanity in a flurry of rage, the mirror shattering into a million pieces.

Axel takes in a deep breath and looks at the mess he's created. His face crumbles and his voice shakes and wavers as tears prick his eyes. "I'm a failure. You deserve someone better. Take it," Axel pinches his nose as a tear falls down his cheek, "take it from someone who loves you. I will not say it knowing it'd cement you to me. I can not. I do not deserve anyone's love, but I can't bear the thought of losing someone else. If you were to leave and I have said it, the pain would be too real."

Axel's chest lurches with a sob. "I… I don't know what is wrong with me. Why, why are these feelings coming back to me? I have a responsibility to you and the others and yet I'm failing once again. Is this why I'm alive, to continue to fail?" Axel crumbled to his knees, his hand catching himself, but on the shards of glass. Astarion smells the blood, but Axel doesn't seem to notice the pain.

Astarion feels numb. His chest hurts, if his heart could still beat it would be breaking. How could Axel feel so unworthy, when he was arguably the only one bringing anything to the table? That's the second time Axel has referred to himself as unexciting. The first time being when Axel declared he didn't need another lover and that he wished for Astarion to not have one either. That if Astarion wished to have that option, then he should end it.

Everything else Axel said was working slowly over in Astarion's mind. He knows some of that was not for him. That something else darkens Axel's mind, but the half-elf is not in the state to elaborate.

Astarion kneels down gently by Axel's side, guiding the man's chin up to face him. Axel's face is a mess of tears and his eyes are heavy with fatigue and fear. Astarion can hear how fast Axel's heart is beating, like the sound of a war drum.

Astarion doesn't say anything other than, "take it easy." His honeyed words are lost to him. For now he guides his lover back to the bed and licks up the blood on Axel's hand before pulling out a healing potion for him to drink. Axel's chest is still heaving, but the tears have stopped. Now he sits mindless as Astarion guides him. The display is unnerving for Astarion, but he knows he must fight through it.

When Axel's face clears up, Astarion cups his cheeks and brings his lips to Axel's. It's tender and Astarion tries all his might to put every ounce of his feelings into it.

"Listen to me." Axel looks into Astarion's eyes. "Why would I want someone else, when I didn't even know I needed you? You are not boring. And you have not failed me. Or the others. I'm not afraid of your darkness. You are worth knowing. I want to know everything. You think anything you could tell me would shock me?" Astarion huffs with a sad smile. He grows serious. "This will pass. And I will still be here when it does. I love you."

Axel swallows and smiles. "Freetra starta den lun. Meg louvè. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you."

Astarion scoffs, but not with malice, but in sadness. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who struggles with this. If anything it brings me closer to you. Your burdens are mine to bear, just as you have carried mine. It's the least I could do."

Axel buries his head in the crook of Astarion's neck. He takes a long sniffle and Astarion can feel Axel's lips twist into a smile. "Lavender. I knew you'd go for that one." Axel's hot breath on Astarion's skin makes his body flutter in a way he has never experienced until he met Axel.

Astarion kisses the top of Axel's head. "You know me too well."

Axel hums and wraps his arms around Astarion's waist, digging his nose deeper into the crook. "Smells amazing on you." Axel groans as he takes another sniffle and Astarion can smell the desire now replacing the anguish in Axel. It almost makes Astarion laugh when he's suddenly reminded how drunk Axel actually is.

Axel doesn't try anything. He simply seems content just holding Astarion in bears grip. The warm intimate feeling is comforting, despite the guilt of knowing it was him who was meant to comfort Axel. Seeing an opportunity, however, Astarion asks. "My love?"

Axel hums and it vibrates against Astarion's skin. If his body was capable of it, he'd get goose bumps. "You have been using those phrases of yours since our first confession. Yet it is in a language I do not understand." Astarion is hoping he can lead Axel to the ledge and the drunk man can take the leap himself. He's afraid if he asks him full on, Axel will deny him the knowledge. He usually does, stating "that's the point, darling".

Axel shrugs. "It's Jotun. It means my star and moon. Is that the one? The other means, my love." Astarion's body blossoms with warmth, disgusting happiness he can't help but cringe at.

What sweet phrases. Am I truly his star and moon?

"I didn't want to tell you, because I was embarrassed. I didn't want to scare you off and I thought I would if you knew how much I was falling in love with you." Axel said, muffled against Astarion's skin. Astarion remembers Axel's words. I will not say it knowing it'd cement you to me.

Astarion forces Axel to look at him. Now Axel's eyes are hazy with half sleep and Astarion can't help but think he looks absolutely adorable. "Tell me you love me." Astarion all but demands.

Axel smiles tiredly. "I love you." And he means it. Astarion smiles and tucks Axel into bed, holding him close. Though, mostly because Axel refuses to let go.

Suddenly the fears of what the future holds seem less scary now that he knows Axel loves him as well. It seems Axel isn't the perfect untouchable thing he saw him as. And that only makes Astarion's longing for him grow.

Cazador believed flawed things were an abomination. Astarion disagrees. As much as he claims to hate the weak and flawed. Flawed things are much more beautiful. And to know he doesn't have to carry that burden alone. That makes it all worth it. Even perhaps giving up the sun. Because Axel is worth it.

#bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion brainrot #astarion with a male Tav #also Astarion being the one that comforts is sweet #maybe ooc?#i dont quite think so #baldur’s gate 3 #i have a problem #whump prompt #whump October #whumptober #also there is no dnd dictionary for Jotun #so i used fae #shush #hope you liked it!#oh #astarion

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risewriter · 1 year

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Hi it me again How about a turtle tot Birthday between Leo and donnie

Sure thing!

ROTTMNT: Twinsday

Tot Leo: *Kicks down the door while everyone is still decorating* IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Tot Mikey: Hawpy b-

Tot Donnie: *Kicks Leo aside* No! The superior turtle should get a congratulation first! It’s how it works!

Tot Leo: *Leo and Don clash heads* I asked first! Which means I’m better than you!

Tot Mikey: Uh! Uhh.. hawpy birthday-

*Leo & Donnie crowd Mikey*

Leo & Donnie: TO ME, RIGHT?

Tot Raph: *Pulls in Mikey* Happy Twinsday. *Walks away with Mikey*

Leo & Donnie: . . . BUT TO WHO?!

#hope you liked it!#turtle tots #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rise leonardo #rottmnt donnie #rise donatello #rise michelangelo #rottmnt raph #rise raphael #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise leo #rise raph #tmnt incorrect quotes

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pia-writes-things · 22 days

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#river and the fucked up punds' dynamic

ok i'll bite, tell me about it

Ok, so, first, that typo is BURNING my eyes 🥲🥲 I'm so sorry Amy and Rory, I would never disrespect you like that on purpose 🥺

Second, this will basically be my Ways To Heal chapters about the Ponds but in essay form, so if you wanna read the angst-filled version, it's there 🥰

Putting all of my unhinged thoughts under a read more because, as predicted, this ended up quite long. And it wasn't prompted, so I'm glad to know I could really do a presentation about them on the spot ^^

So, to start, you have the Ponds, a couple that started, well, not bad, but not great either. But during the course of the 3 seasons we got them, we saw them choose each other, again and again and again. And everytime they chose each other, every time we saw what perfect life looked like for them, there was a kid in the picture. The most obvious example of that is Amy's choice obviously, but the beginning of season 6 is also a big indicator. When we beging season 6, they're settled. They haven't seen the Doctor in a while and they built a domestic life that is theirs. And later in the first two episodes, you learn that Amy thinks she is pregnant. And she is worried for the baby, for what travelling in the Tardis might have done to it (which, in retrospect, she was right about ^^). Her worry, the fact she wants to talk to the Doctor about it, and the fact that Rory and her started to build a life together on Earth makes me think that they had talked about it, had planned for it, and maybe were considering starting trying. So, clearly, having a baby was really important for them. There are a myriad of other moments when we're shown it was really important for them : when Amy explains to Mme Kovarian why she's more than happy to kill her in The Wedding of River Song, the beginning of season 7 and the whole reason she and Rory are about to divorce, and, whether you believe it to be canon or not, the fact that they adopted a kid in Manhattan. A fundamental fact about Amy and Rory is that they wanted kids together, and didn't get to raise Melody. They had to accept River as their daughter while she was already an adult, and probably older than them. They had to accept also, especially Amy, that her birth meant they couldn't have children of their own anymore. They had to accept that their own daughter was always away, never quite fitting in with them. They had to accept that they would never be the family they wished they had.

On the other hand, you have River. River whose life is entirely in disorder compared to her parents. They met her before they knew who she was. They were her friends before they were her parents. She had to lie to their face countless times to protect time and prevent a paradox. She never got to really experience life as their daughter. We got glimpses in The angels take Manhattan and in The Ruby's curse but that's it. And even then, it's moments in her life, always fleeting.

That's where my first point of the fucked up dynamic appears (admittedly I only have two but whatever). See, an established fact of River and the Doctor's story is that they forbid each other at different moments to change their story in any way shape or form. And that include the Ponds' story as a family. At the end of A good man goes to war, the Doctor promises Amy that he will find her daughter. At the beginning of Let's kill Hitler, he's still looking for her. My personal interpretation is that he either didn't look for her, or made the choice not to intervene. I can't believe that the Doctor, clever as he is, Mr. "The laws of time are mine and they will obey me" couldn't find his best friend's daughter, his wife, as a kid, even though he knew when he last saw her. At this point in season 6, he knows the kid in 1969 is River. So, my personal headcanon is that he chose not to look for her, or not to bring her back to Amy and Rory. Because, and that's the thing, if he'd found Melody, she would not become River. If Melody got to be raised by the Ponds and not the Silence, she would never have become River. So, to keep his promise to Amy, he would have had to break the one he did to his wife when she was dying. And he just couldn't do that. So, indirectly, River was responsible for her own fucked up childhood. She was responsible for her parent's unhappiness. Even if it wasn't her direct responsibility, the consequences and implications are there. And, I think, as a daughter, that is a very fucked up thing to know and realise. And River being River, knowing so much about everyone and being so used to being out of order, I think she knew. She knew she was a paradox and the Doctor couldn't change anything about her history. She didn't know about her death and what she told him then, but she knew the rest. So she always knew they were doomed from the start as a family.

Which ties to my second point about their fucked up dynamic. River never got to be raised by her parents. At most, Rory and Amy were her "parent-friends" when they were kids. But it's not the same thing. So, knowing that, knowing all that we said in the precedent paragraph, and knowing that she was raised by Mme Kovarian and the Silence, I think that "Hiding the damages" is as much the Doctor's fault as it is indirectly the Ponds' faults. I think we can all agree that River had a very fucked up, beyond traumatizing, childhood. She didn't have any parents, she was shot at by her own mother (again, not Amy's fault, she didn't know, but still), she was brainwashed, trained to kill, and, weirdly, Mme Kovarin doesn't strike me as a very nurturing parental figure (*irony itensifies*). She never had anyone who could really listen to her, or even know her completely. As a child, no one ever knew her real self, or no one bothered to learn to know her. She was either a future weapon or a story designed to fit in Leadworth. Her parents weren't there for her when she needed them, or they couldn't really be her parents. And - and !- tying all this up with my precedent point, when they finally got to be her parents, she had to live with the fact that her birth, her story, fucked them up beyond measure. She was, though it wasn't her fault, partially responsible for their unhappiness. So, she learned to hide the damages. She kept lying, like she had always done, she kept the pretense of being a good psychopath with no feelings, because it's easier than showing to her parents how much exactly her own story fucked them and her up.

And, I think this will be my conclusion, to me, River being a psychopath is actually just her being traumatised and coping unhealthily. We never really saw her being a real psychopath, or at least a cold-hearted assassin who would shoot at anyone like the show tries to imply she is. She has feelings, and she shows them all the time. Even in The Husband of River Song or Let's kill Hitler, which are the episodes where they try to show River being a psychopath, she isn't really one. The people she wants to kill are themselves assassins, or the person she was literally brainwashed to hate. And she doesn't even really want to kill them for the most part, only scam them. Even the Doctor, in the end, she saves him. To me, River's "psychopath" tendencies, her selfishness that so many people in the fandom hold against her, are just the ways she found to cope with her traumas. It's the only way she found to cope with lying all the time, never having the stability of knowing people and people she loves knowing her. It's easier for her to pretend she is what Mme Kovarian and the Silence wanted to make her that actually showing her true self, when half the time, no one is there to receive it. It's easier to be that way than to be vulnerable. Especially because every time she was vulnerable in her life, it ended badly for her.

So, tldr: River is very fucked up by her childhood and that informs her relationship with her parents, as well as the relationship between her parents. I love them all very much, and they love each other, but apart from Marisa, Asriel and Lyra in His dark materials, the Ponds are probably the most fucked up fictional family I know.

Also, a lot of this essay is based on my interpretations of canon, the characters, and some plotholes Moffat gave us, so I know I might be wrong or biased on some points. But here, you have my rotating thoughts about them! I think about this more than I care to admit tbh ^^

#dw #doctor who #river song #amy pond #rory williams #ask #sae's the best #pia's oversharing #this ended up being very long but I regret nothing #i'm unhinged about them 24/7 and this is just a glimpse of what my brain is like half the time lmao #hope you liked it!

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