#we have entered the era where there will be many more tags because of all the characters
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11: New Sun, New People
Eddie's pov
Stepping into the light feels so good. I'm able to pull down my bandana for the first time in god knows how long.
"This is the sun! This is light!" I exclaim. No response. I swivel around, looking for Otto.
I can't find her, but there is a clearly trampled through path through the woods.
"Fuck!" I smooth back my hair and roll my eyes, but follow the trail nonetheless.
Otto's pov
"WHO ARE YOU?" Someone yells to me. I cling to who knows what, swimming in a large tub of water.
"Otto! Otto!" I say, but the person keeps yelling.
"DID YOU TAKE EDDIE?" The person yells again, but I can says something else now.
"Know Eddie! I know Eddie!" I shout.
"OTTO!" Eddie comes run in, and the first person stops yelling. I paddle fast out of the tub and hide behind Eddie.
"Dustin?" Eddie asks. I struggle out of the big tub, and hide behind Eddie.
"Eddie? You know this little- this little person?" Dustin asks.
Eddie's pov
"Eddie, don't let person hurt me," Otto whispers. She looks at me, and I almost jump at how different her eyes look. The sudden brightness has caused them to constrict, and her once large pupils are now small as a pinprick.
"Dustin!" I shout, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. "Oh man, I missed you so much dude!"
"Eddie, holy shit, I thought you were gone!" Dustin says. "But, uh... what's up with the girl?" He whispers.
I turn around, and Otto is crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around her head. She's bent over something, I just can't tell what. I walk over, and bend down next to her.
"Otto, are you okay?" I ask cautiously. She turns to me, and shakes her head weakly. Her mouth opens, and inky black liquid flows out.
"Holy shit!" Dustin shouts. Immediately, I scoop her into my arms.
"Dustin, we need to get her somewhere dark and out of the sun right now!" I shout.
"Uh, okay, so we need to go north! Forward!" Dustin shouts. I start running, and follow every one of his directions until we break through the treeline.
Steve's pov
Dad left an hour ago for his business trip. Thank god. He'll be gone for a few days, Mom is staying with Grammy, so I have the house to myself.
I'm watching a movie in my room when the door bursts open.
"STEVE WE'RE BORROWING YOUR HOUSE IT'S AN EMERGENCY!" Dustin screams from downstairs.
"What the fuck is going on?" I ask, running down the stairs. The bathroom door is open with the light is off, and a filthy looking Dustin is standing over an even grimier-
"Munson?" I ask.
"Shut up Harrington, we're trying to save a life here!" Eddie says, splashing water over something lying in the bathtub.
"What the hell does he have there?" I ask Dustin.
"A kid." Dustin replies with such nonchalance about this that you'd almost think he was joking.
"Did he like... get a girlfriend?" I ask nervously.
"No. He just, like, appeared out of nowhere with her?" Dustin explains. "She's super weird. She's very small and looks like she's younger than me? Also her eyes are crazy looking and she started throwing up this weird, black stuff. Eddie's insisting she needs darkness and to cool down, so that's what's happening."
I sweep the curtain aside, and observe what's going on. The tap is on, and Eddie scoops handfuls of water onto the small girl. The dress thing she's wearing is stained with black, and the water is muddled and full of debris and dirt. Despite Eddie's attempts, the girl's eyes stay closed and black stuff continues to dribble out her mouth.
"Uh, Munson, you want me to help?" I offer.
"I got it!" Eddie insists. He douses her face one more time, and her eyes open.
I jump back. Her eyes are HUGE.
"You know what? I think maybe I'll go turn off the lights and draw the blinds," I say. I grab Dustin and pull him out the door with me.
"Dustin. What the fuck is going on, man? You said this girl was weird, you didn't say she was like supernatural weird!"
"You couldn't figure that out when I said crazy eyes and hurling black stuff?" Dustin asks. "Look. How about you go cook something up? This new person will be hungry. Okay? And I'm going to gather some members of the party and some other people, so we can brainstorm ideas on what the everloving fuck is going on. Okay?"
"Okay," I say shakily. "Thank you."
"Okay. You're welcome." Dustin runs out the front door. I walk into the kitchen slowly, and begin trying to find something I can cook.
About an hour later, Dustin shows back up, with a few Party members (excluding Max and Lucas, of course), Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan with his friend. All I've managed to do in that time is slice up a watermelon and get a tray of frozen fries in the oven.
"Alright everybody, I've gathered you here today to-" Dustin starts.
"Uh, why is it all dark in here?" Robin asks.
"Excellent question. Today's presentation requires darkness, or bad things will happen. Eddie, you can come out now!" Dustin calls.
Eddie walks out, by himself.
"So, ah, hey! Everybody!"
The room erupts into shouts and exclamations at my arrival.
"Thank you, thank you everybody," I start. "But, my returning is not what Dustin got you all for. You see, while I was gone, I may or may not have found something in the Upside Down that is now here. And I thought I'd just say this preface, because she can be, uh, unpredictable." I smile weakly at everybody, they return the favor with confused looks. "Otto, you can come out now if you'd like."
The bathroom door creaks open, and the sound of quick footsteps fills the silence.
"Eddie, who is this 'Otto'? And where is she?" Nancy interjects.
"Here," Otto says. As everyone's eyes adjust, they can make out her small silhouette next to me. The red glint of her glasses are the only thing noting she's there.
"Otto, I'm going to turn on a very dim light. It would be like my cigarette and your firework punk being lit at the same time, okay?" I explain. Otto nods. I nod at Dustin, who throws a blanket over a lamp and switches it on. Soft light fills the room, and everyone stares at Otto. The water in her hair has turned into mud, and since her sun exposure, her skin is a flushed shade of red. Her dress is even more torn and ratty, if that's even possible. A small, spider-esque creature crawls through her hair.
"Hi Otto!" Someone pipes up from the back. Otto waves a little bit. I can tell Otto isn't interested in transforming or talking or doing any of that, and everyone else can tell she isn't going to do anything, and they all get up to talk in small groups. In all the bustle, the person who said hi wanders over. She's a small girl, who looks very similar to Otto. Her head is shaved, and she's dressed in an oversized flannel.
"Otto, this is-"
"El! El, short for Eleven," El smiles. "Hi Otto!"
"Hello. As Eddie said, I is Otto." Otto runs her hand through one of her twintails nervously, and chunks of mud and other debris crumbles to the floor.
"You talk like me!" El says excitedly. "Mike says I am getting better at my grammar, but I think that to sound like this is okay!"
"Mike?" Otto asks.
"Mike is my boyfriend. He is over there!" El motions to a little but away, where Mike gathers another boy and Dustin. He looks nervous, awkwardly waving his hands as the second boy talks to him. Hm.
"Boyfriend?" Otto asks. "Is that like when Eddie talked in his sleep about-"
"Well Otto, you've scattered one too many bugs across this lovely living room carpet, who about we get you back into the bathtub and taking a shower?"
#we found her down there#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson#dustin henderson#steve harrington#nancy wheeler#argyle#robin buckley#el hopper#mike wheeler#tw swearing#tw body horror#tw mentions of cigarettes#tw vomit#bubble writes words#we have entered the era where there will be many more tags because of all the characters#a joyous day
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rodrick heffley dating hcs
wc: 2.3k
pairing: rodrick heffley x gn reader
warnings: rodrick has really low self esteem, he also has adhd and dyslexia and general bad mental health, mentions of rsd, his parents are pretty shitty so yikes, brief mentions of parties/hookups/making out, barely proof read
song recs: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, cupid's chokehold/breakfast in america - gym class heroes
a/n: I can't get hyperfixated on diary of a wimpy kid again I can't watch all the movies just for rodrick I can't want to pounce on this man every time I see him.... and yet....
also this is exactly 6 pages in google docs what am i on
(aged up to 18+ for brief mention of hookups, otherwise sfw)
tags: @dustyinkpages @yesv01
First of all
Rodrick is a scorpio
So that makes a lot of sense right off the bat
If we look at how he’s portrayed
Which is through Greg’s perspective aka the most unreliable narrator of all time
We see an angry, angsty, aggressive rebellious teenager
He’s viewed as lazy, selfish, and manipulative, while being simultaneously “dumb” and smarter than he lets on
I saw a post that said maturing is realizing Rodrick wasn’t a villain, he has shitty mental health and a lot of issues he’s not getting help for
And yeah
Yeah that’s what’s actually going on
First of all I think we can all agree he’s dyslexic
Sweaty??? Loded diper???? D-o-r-e?????
Hello
Dyslexia has entered the chat
I think it’s also pretty safe to assume he has adhd
Maybe I am just projecting shut up
But I know for a fact this boy has had a monster energy dependency since he was Greg’s age
We know at this point that people with adhd and dyslexia (separately and together) often times have low self esteem for a variety of reasons
And my god there is no one with worse self esteem than Rodrick Heffley
He knows his parents think he’s dumb
They’re not good at hiding it
They might not have said it to his face but he knows
I get the sense that Rodrick isn’t really aware that all of his struggles are both diagnosable and treatable
So until he learns that many years later
He does actually think he’s kind of dumb
At least in terms of academics
But he can say at least he’s pretty clever
He definitely favors street smarts over book smarts yk
And that’s something that he relies on a lot
He’s taken the classic undiagnosed adhd + learning disorder rout of convincing himself school is stupid and doesn’t mean anything
Even though he actually gets really bad rsd
Especially through academic invalidation
So by the time he was around Greg’s age he’d already convinced himself that school is stupid and doesn’t matter
That no one else gets him
And what better way to back up that belief than fixating on rock and pop punk music???
In his eyes, all the greats had an up and coming early days “no one believed in our vision but us” era
That’s what Rodrick finds himself in now
So when his mom calls his hours and hours of drum practice noise and racket
And when his dad says all that rock and roll is melting his brain (even more than it is, is the implied rest of the sentence)
And when Greg refers to him as his “talentless brother”
It’s fine
Because the more people don’t believe him
The better his success will be
The further back he’s pulled, the further forward he’ll fly
Honest to god, green day’s discography is the reason he’s functional at all
If he can’t listen to american idiot or dookie or nimrod while doing it
He’s not going to do it
Pop punk and hot girls are the only sources of serotonin he’s been able to cling onto
That’s what’s keeping him going right now
A few more years he reminds himself
A few more years until he’ll have left and signed a recording contract and will finally get what he deserves
I think he’s actually kind of scared of someone liking him
Like, actually liking him
The same way where he expects people to be disappointed in him but it’s okay because no one sees his creative vision like he does
He’s convinced himself that the girls in plainview probably aren’t going to get him
So besides his stint with Lyndsey
Which hurt way more than it was supposed to
(remember all that rsd???)
And a fling with that girl from Isla de Corales that burnt out as hot and fast and ugly as he expected it to
He hasn’t really had any actual relationships
Besides the occasional hook up or make out session at a party
He doesn’t want to admit to himself that he knows if a girl actually liked him enough to really get to know him they’d see past the punk boy persona to how fucked up he is
And they’d get scared off
Because who wouldn’t be???
(remember that low self esteem???????)
On a similar note
His band mates may or may not be aware of this
But he’s kind of hiding all his good songs???
He keeps telling himself that it’s fine to just perform fluff and filler songs at first
Because once they get an audience
Once they get practice and a following
Once he knows the right people will hear him
Then he’ll drop the songs with substance
The ones where he really actually has something to say
Because if he posts diper overlode online and it gets 5 views, who cares
But if he posts a song that’s all his innermost thoughts to the hardest drum beats and guitar riffs and bass solos he can possibly come up with
And it gets 3 views and a comment that says it’s shit
It would kill him
Nothing can make him stop making music
Except maybe that
So once he gets into a more accepting, less harshly critical environment
It will be way easier for him to start dropping better and better songs
A little positive reinforcement goes a very long way with him
So by the time that you finally stumble into his life
However that happens
Maybe you saw him at Heather’s sweet sixteen and actually thought he was really good
You hunted him down a while later to tell him
And ask when their next performance will be
Or you heard him blasting his band’s cd at the pool for about 12 seconds before he had to shut it off
And you marched right over to buy one
And he fell in love right there
Or maybe you’re auditioning to be loded diper’s new guitarist or something
And he takes one look at you absolutely shredding
And his stomach drops and his heart starts pounding
Or some other meet cute
Or meet uncute knowing him
Goddamn you give him so much serotonin right off the bat
You figure out pretty quick that the way to his heart is making him laugh, quality time, and very gentle encouragement
And making out
But more on that later
He’s kind of obsessed with you
Okay not kind of
Super
Really super obsessed
Really fast
But like he’s going to play it cool
In spite of how down bad he is for you
Even though he’s not very good at it
He’ll try to play it cool as much as he possibly can
He’ll definitely flirt
He’ll try all his lines and moves
“I’m in a band ;)”
“We play so loud we make people’s ears bleed ;)”
“I can comp you some tickets to our next show ;)”
“Oh yeah I’m a drummer btw ;)”
“A drummer in a band ;)”
Yeah that’s pretty much all he’s got
But unless you want to jump into making out
He really has no idea what to do after that
(Plankton voice) I don’t know I never thought I’d get this far
So if you really like him
Which you do
Actually dating him might be a little tricky
I feel like what would probably happen is you two would just start by being friends who make out sometimes
Like a lot
And then
Eventually after a while
Making out with you will stop scratching that itch
He’ll want more
He’ll want you more
And he’ll start calling himself your boyfriend
Mostly because he really starts to hate it when other people flirt with you
Or stare at you too much
He knows he’s got it bad when he starts getting snippy and annoyed at his bandmates for trying to impress you
That’s when he’s like oh shit
Oh no I actually really like you
And I’m pretty sure you like me too
And if he said that to you
And you said “yeah, yeah I like you a whole lot” and pulled him in by his necklace to kiss him
Everything is solidified in that moment
He’s yours now
Also if you really, really want to make his heart go boom boom
And get him really in love and obsessed with you
Which why wouldn’t you
Tell him he looks like billie joe armstrong with his messy black hair and eyeliner
Oh my god
His heart is 100% yours
Even more than it was before
God he will kiss you right then and there
He really has no idea how he managed to catch you
Or like
Why you like him
(remember that low self esteem?????????????)
He really never thought he’d be a good boyfriend
But once it kind of clicked that being your boyfriend just means doing what he’s already doing with you
Plus a few extra things he already wants to do with you but wasn’t sure he could
He was like wait
It’s that quick easy and free??????? Fuck yeah
He’s so excited
Like really excited
And in spite of what he thinks
He is a good ass boyfriend in a really chill way
Like a lot of the stuff he does is under a very thinly veiled guise of like
Pfft it’s no big deal this is totally chill and casual
I just love kissing you and making out with you at every opportunity cause you’re super hot totally not cause I’m kind of in love with you
I like struggling through homework together cause you’re hot not cause looking at you kind of makes me believe in myself a little and makes really shitty things easier to get through
I try to keep you away from my family because they’re so annoying and you’re so hot not because I know my parents have historically sabotage everything that makes me genuinely happy (which used to just be rock but now is you and rock) and I don’t want them to say something to upset you
Or try to come between us because I’m not going to say this and I want to avoid this situation at all costs but I know if it came to an ultimatum most likely from my mom that I’d pick you
All of this is really just him trying not to jinx anything
Because look at you
Look at how great you are
The only two things he wants are a music career
Any kind of music career
And you
And he’s not going to do anything to jeopardize that
On the surface his feelings towards both you and his band might seem casual
But don’t test him
Cause he will do anything to protect those
Also the fact that you genuinely support him
You actually like the music his band makes
It’s almost unfathomable to him
Like he thought it was going to be a long time before he found someone like you
He’s still in the early life section of his future wikipedia page as a rock legend
And god he’s so excited he found you this soon
He’s just so excited
Being around you
Even just thinking about you is like someone slapped some jumper cables on him and revved the engine
He’ll almost definitely act like what you two have is super casual and barely anything worth noting for a while
Mostly around his family
That way you can avoid a formal Meet The Parents moment
He’s not going to subject either of you to that
After enough time passes his family is just kind of used to seeing you around
Rides to and from school
Hanging out during band rehearsals
Doing homework together
Once you’ve reached I’m with the band status
He doesn’t worry as much
They just sort of mentally put you in part of his friend group/inner circle yk
Which is great because now you can basically come over and spend as much time together as you want without any questions
It’s a pretty good way to gently fold you into his life
The way you’d tenderly fold whipped egg whites into pastry dough
I do have some unfortunate news
Which is if you’re dating Rodrick
Greg will probably get a weird awkward crush on you too
It sort of comes with the territory
Thankfully you have about one interaction with him every six months or so
All of which are by coincidence or accident
So it’s not really an issue
Unless you’re a babysitter or tutor or something
That’s when things can get messy
But hopefully that won’t be an issue
For now at least
Cause for now he just wants to spend time with you
He just wants to listen to music with you and drive around in his van and kiss your beautiful face
He knows shit won’t always be this easy
So he’s holding onto these good old days while he can
Because he knows these moments with you right now
These early morning texts about weekend plans and homework answers
Afternoons practicing the drums and trying unsuccessfully not to be distracted by how pretty you are when you watch him
Nights driving around in his van, going nowhere in particular
Just so you can be together a little longer
Just so you don’t have to go home yet
So he can savor the feeling of your hand in his for a few more minutes
For one more song
These are the good old days
And there will be even better days ahead
And he wants them with you
#rodrick heffley#rodrick x reader#rodrick heffley x reader#rodrick#diary of a wimpy kid#doawk rodrick#diary of a wimpy kid x reader#doawk x reader
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Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 8: You Knew What You Wanted, and Boy You Got Her
Heeey besties sorry for yet another middle of the night fic drop. We are back and better than ever with some Clato content. This one and the next two are just all about them so! Live laugh clato era!. The next one..is in fact the one you have all been waiting for and I think this one gives the hint as to what that will be. Fun fact about this chapter, is this is the chapter i've been scheming for over a year. It is the reason I made the twins identical. All for this chapter to happen.
Masterpost
AO3
Title from Taylor Swift So High School, because this is like..referencing the uh..we'll just say readiness of her LOL. IDK it'll make sense when you read it.
As always let me tag my beloved @kentwells and @bodyelectric77 who literally listen to me do nothing but talk about this fic. I love u thank you for sticking around.
The first thing Clove does, every time she comes home, is kicks her shoes off without untying them. In the back of her mind she can hear her grandmother, telling her that's how she ruined them, by stepping on the feel with the opposite toe and yanking her foot out by the ankle. Later, she can hear Enobaria telling her at least she’s efficient and in all areas of her life she’s a quick girl. Now, she’s twenty three and even still, it is just so much simpler to slip her foot out of her shoes than take the time to untie them.
She can always buy more.
It’s one of the many things that, after the war that upended her life, has become part of new routine. It should shock noone that the kids who were raised in the strictest, highest level of training academy of District Two, grew into adults who craved some sort of order. Ones who especially craved it once every other aspect of the world around them changed.
It was so simple, really. Clove goes on her little– little, being anywhere from four to twenty miles depending on how much her body could take– run. She comes home. She enters through the back door into the kitchen, because if she came in the front and Enobaria was home Cashmere would catch her on her way and talk to her for fifteen minutes. She took off her shoes, left then right, losing about an inch of height once the running shoes were off her feet. She takes approximately five steps to the island in the center of her kitchen, where she would take off her jacket if it were a cool day. On summer days like today, she pulls the elastic out of her hair and lets it tumble past her shoulders and to the middle of her back where it covers the exposed skin between the elastic bands of her workout clothes. Because it is the beginning of September and summer is threatening to close in on them anyday, she sometimes treats herself to the last of whatever seasonal fruit she has on hand.
Today, though, she bypasses the snack as she glances at the clock above the stove. Six thirty. Something about the time brings her pause, as she cocks her head and strums her nails along the marble countertop. Six thirty. Early September. She just has this sense that she’s missing something. Were they supposed to be somewhere today?
“Babe?” Clove calls out, distracted as she counts out something on her fingers. No. That wasn’t today. Nope, not that either. Nope, the trip to Four is next weekend. Enough seconds pass with no response that Cato either did not hear her or is not home, and at least if it’s the latter she can assume he remembered whatever she didn’t. She tries again, “Cato? Babe, are you home?”
As she calls out she makes her way from the kitchen over towards her living room, still perplexed by whatever it is she apparently forgot to write down. She’s missing something. “Cato, I think we’re supposed to be doing something?” She tries again, but as she rounds the corner she is aggressively reminded of what she was supposed to be doing today.
“Oh look, there’s your Aunt Clovey.”
Clove stops short in the doorway, taken back by Cato standing not too far from the center of the room holding not one but two little blonde babies in either arm. Six months old, almost, and yet compared to the size of him they may as well have been six weeks.
God he’s fucking huge.
Focus, Clove, Focus.
Clove pauses, leaning her head on the doorframe for just the slightest of a second before she crosses the couple of steps to stand directly in front of Cato and the girls, who even still are all significantly above her eye level. “Cato..” Clove starts, an artificially sweet tone filling her voice as she reaches up to grab the hand of one of the twins, not entirely sure which is which yet. “Where did these babies come from?”
“Uh, Glimmer? I mean technically I guess they came from Marvel first but–” Cato shrugs, in doing so making both of the twins giggle as they’re lightly bounced in his arms.
Early September. Six thirty. Three months after her wedding anniversary which is..Glimmer’s.
“No shit, I know they came from Glimmer, Cato. I mean where is their dear mother?” Clove rolls her eyes at him, but holds her hands out to the baby he holds on his left, allowing her to lean her upper body into her hands and transfer into Clove’s awaiting arms.
“She just left, literally minutes before you got home, you probably would have run into her if you came in the front.” Cato explains, though he doesn’t even spare a look in Clove’s direction. Instead he directs all of his words in the direction of the little blonde he still holds, gasping desperately for the baby’s attention. His efforts are rewarded as the baby reaches her little hand up to his face, grasping her little fingers at any part of his face she can find a grip in.
“I can’t believe she actually left them. I don’t think she can even sleep without holding them. I thought they’d be eighteen before she could step away.” Clove mumbles, running her own spare hand through the soft baby curls of whichever girl she holds. “Which one is this?”
“Oh, she didn’t want to leave them. She looked like she was going to cry so I just shut the door on her. I told her she needed to go have dinner or mediocre sex or something.” Cato waves off, peeling the baby’s hand off of his face before he flips her around to face Clove. In the same motion he settles her on his shoulders, little baby hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair in the meantime. He’s been built for a lifetime of discomfort, and so the grasp of a six month old was absolutely nothing on him. The silly smile does in fact start to fall from his face at Clove’s follow up question, and he narrows his eyes at the baby absolutely pulling at Clove’s free flowing hair. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to ask. She was grabbing their hands and I could see the tears and I just pushed her out.”
Clove raises a disbelieving eyebrow, taking the minute to narrow her eyes at her husband. “...you didn’t think to clarify which of the identical twins was which?”
“Well I would have, but I thought she was going to change her mind so. No. How about we’ll call this one Glimmer Two,” Cato holds up the baby’s arm and makes her wave at Clove, which earns an excited little babble in Clove’s direction. “And yours can be Glimmer Three.”
“She’s going to actually kill us if we mix them up. What happens when we switch them and then Stella spends her entire life thinking she’s her sister” Clove teases, but glances down at her own assigned baby who is fascinated by shoving fistfulls of dark hair into her mouth.
“Stella?” She tries, looking between the two for a reaction. Both are too fascinated with the adult who holds them to notice, so she tries the alternative. “...Aurelia?” Again, neither grace her with any sort of attention or acknowledgement, and Clove huffs in impatience. “Now I know they know their damn names.”
“Yeah, and the superior twin likes me better, but they seem pretty unimpressed right now. Do you think there's a secret third?” Cato questions, trying to turn his head to glance up at his designated twin resting around his neck. “Are you Glimmer Two or Glimmer Four?”
“...I’m color coding them.” Clove determines, glancing around the room for the bag full of outfit changes Glimmer brings everywhere she goes. “Glimmer Two is in Pink, i’m putting this one in purple or something. Also you know if Glimmer hears you call one the superior twin she’s going to lose it.”
“Oh we all know you like Stella better, Clove.” Cato flips his baby back around, quite literally, and she lands in his arms with a squeal of delight. A smug smirk finds his face as he glances Clove over from her head to her toes. “I just like to bet on the littlest ones, you would know about that. Sometimes the runt can surprise you.”
“I don’t like Stella better, Stella just likes me better. Aurelia likes you, anyway.” Clove waves off, holding back her eye roll as she gently unravels the baby’s hand from her hair. She offers him a coy smirk, looking him up and down. “Maybe I just take pity on the big ones. Especially the big dumb boys.”
“She’s just saying that, she’s obsessed with me, kid.” He directs towards the baby (who, for what it’s worth is in fact Aurelia), managing to drape the entirety of her little body over the length of his forearm. “It can’t be that bad, they can’t be gone long anyway. I give ‘em two hours max.”
“Lucky for us they actually need their mother so they don’t starve, she’ll come back soon.” Clove assures herself more than anyone else. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the girls, quite the opposite actually. She’d even go as far as to say she adores them, but only to certain people who asked. Still, it wasn’t like she had any experience with being alone and responsible for entirely dependent human beings. Unless, of course, you count preteen Cato. At that thought she glanced around, her attention honing in on the haphazard collections of knives and other weapons around the general vicinity. “...watch her. I need a minute.”
Clove slides Stella down to the floor, and once she is sitting independently on the carpet, Clove goes to step away and collect the literal weapons out of their grasp. Almost instantly a high pitched whining comes from the baby, who immediately has her hands up in the air towards Clove, baby hands clenching into clingy little grasps for attention. Clove pauses, turning in place when she feels the little hands grabbing at her sock. “Seriously?”
The whining intensifies, turning desperate and higher in pitch as Clove glances down at the baby by her leg. She notices the pouty lower lip and almost immediately freezes. “No, no no no, no crying. Please. No crying.” Clove’s eyes immediately flit up to Cato, who’s still standing by her with the smuggest grin on his face. “A little help would be nice, Cato.”
“Fuck it, Clove. They can’t move anyway.” Cato points out, nodding his head towards the whining baby at her feet. “She’s probably literally never been put down in her life, just hold her.”
Clove audibly sighs, and exchanges the handful of metal for a handful of baby. It’s like she’s hit the metaphorical off switch, and the baby immediately stops her threat of tears. Stella settles right against Clove’s hip , laying her head down on her shoulder with not a threat of shedding a single tear. “Is this a joke? Are we going to have to hold them all night?”
“That has to be Stella. She liiikes you.” Cato decides, before he decides to kick back onto the couch with the twin he has deemed Aurelia. “Don’t act like the world’s ending, there’s worst things to be doing than holding cute babies, Clove.”
“They are cute.” Clove muses, resting her cheek on top of the little blonde head on her shoulder. “It’s fucking weird, they really do look just like Glimmer. It’s weird to be holding little versions of Glimmer.”
“They’re just lucky they don’t look like Marvel.” Without much warning Cato reaches out and grabs Clove by the band of her sports bra, jerking her back towards the couch. As soon as her knees hit the edge he pulls her down and to his side, looping his free arm around her waist.
It’s instinctive, the way she pulls her feet up and tucks them over his knee, angling her body towards him like the second nature that it is. “Isn’t it like..a weird thing to you? That our friends made these. Like..literally made them. Glimmer grew these hands.” She holds up Stella’s hand for emphasis, before it once again embeds in the lengths of her hair.
“I feel like they should probably thank us for existing, I mean it was our wedding. It’s not typical that you need to ask your friends to watch your six month olds on your first anniversary.” Cato teases, before he pinches at Clove’s exposed skin.
“Glimmer doesn’t appreciate the reminder of her shotgun wedding, you know that.” Clove flinches out of his grasp, letting out a yelp that startles one of the twins out of whatever little trance they seemed to be in. “She’s a good mom though. They’re lucky girls, to have ended up with her. I think she was born to be a mother.”
She misses the way Cato seems to be staring at her with something on his mind, as she has to once again pry her hair out of the death grip of a child. This time she has to also pull her strands of hair from Stella’s fist and mouth, only barely containing her disgust at moisture in her hair. “Do you think they’re hungry?”
“Huh?” He is only half paying attention, pulled from a daydream or something as Clove brings him back to their current reality. “What did you say?”
“I said do you think they’re hungry, space cadet.” Clove teases, pushing herself back off of him so she could settle the baby in her lap. “She’s trying to eat my hair.”
“..can we even feed them anything in this house? Can babies…eat? I’m sure their parents fed them, Clove. Do they even have teeth?”
“Oh they have teeth, haven’t you heard Glimmer complain about it? Besides, babe, we go to their house three days a week so I can fill their fridge with baby and Marvel safe snacks. We’ve been doing it for two months.” She points out, before she’s off the couch and heading back towards the kitchen with one of the twins still tightly situated on her hip.
Cato wastes no time following behind, albeit a little annoyed to be off the couch already after he had just started to get comfortable with her. “Are they even hungry?”
“I don’t know Cato, I just know I feel this urge to feed them, okay? Like it’s my job.” Clove waves off, flittering over to her usual side of the kitchen as Cato settles in across the island.
“Hmm..is it you who likes strawberries or are you the kiwi baby?” Clove asks the baby in her left arm, grabbing a handful of both out of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.
“I don’t think she’ll answer you.” Cato teases, sitting his twin on the island and holding her up against his chest. “I actually don’t know when babies talk.”
“I”m surprised these ones don’t already, considering their dad never shuts up.” She comments, holding her left hand firmly down on her twin’s arms and hands, so she cannot lunge for the knife in her right hand. “They like..babble at each other though. They’re probably telling each other we’re incompetent.” As if it’s nothing, Clove easily uses the knife to start cutting perfect heart shaped slices out of a strawberry with only one hand, the other still holding Stella (she thinks) back. She lets go of her hand to give her a single sliced heart, and immediately has to grab at her little baby hand once again. “No, baby, please don’t maim yourself. You have parents who could actually try to kill me.” She tilts her head when Stella crinkles her little nose, looking at Clove in confusion before resuming her babbling at her. “...are you the kiwi baby then?”
She slides Cato the plate of strawberries for the other baby, before she resumes her one handed slicing and shaping. “How about we do Kiwi stars, since we have strawberry hearts?” Clove asks the babies, who simply continue their normal baby babbles at her and each other.
She’s distracted by her knife work, handing pieces of fruit back and forth to both of the twins, each time emphasizing the fruit and the shape before she’d hand them a new slice. She feels the sticky kiwi covered hand on her collarbone and lets out an audible groan, “That's not very nice, baby blondie.”
Clove glances up to see if Aurelia (maybe) is also covering Cato in the sugary handprints, and is instead met with Cato just staring at her with an adoring depth to his blue eyes. There's half a smile on his face, and he just looks lovestruck. Clove narrows her eyes back at him, shaking her head just a little. “What are you looking at?”
“Just you.” Cato muses, not even phased when a sticky piece of strawberry is shoved towards his mouth as he ducks out of the way. “I’m thinking, that's all. You just look really really good right now. With her.”
Clove hesitates, watching as Aurelia succeeds in shoving a now mushed strawberry into his unsuspecting mouth. Clove truly cannot help but laugh, nose scrunching up as she does so, and it must be infectious as little miss Stella laughs at Clove laughing at Cato.
He clearly decides not to push his luck with whatever he’s thinking about (and Clove, for what it’s worth can connect the dots). “Can you make some big people food, too? I don’t think I can survive on star shaped strawberries.”
“Um Educate yourself, Cato, the strawberries are hearts and the kiwis are the stars.”
“My mistake, how about some triangle shaped steak?”
Clove does make the two of them adult dinner, too. Albeit it all ends up cut into finger foods, consisting of half moon shaped sweet potato slices, perfectly square carrot chips, and yes, even triangular shaped overcooked (“Intentionally Overcooked, you can’t give a baby rare steak, Cato”) slices of steak.
Later, Clove pawns both twins off on Cato so she can rinse the traces of smushed sweet potato and carrot, along with the sweat from her much earlier run, out of her hair and off of her skin. She wins the race to the shower with the simple reminder that she fed them so she gets to have ten minutes to wash handprints off of her skin.
She comes back downstairs more than just ten minutes later, an oversized shirt she borrowed from Cato serving as a dress, wet hair wrapped in a towel atop her head and safely out of the grip of curious little babies. She’s halfway back down the staircase, when she is brought to a stop by the sound of Cato and his one sided conversation.
No, not one sided, but met with avid, nonsensical baby babbles in response.
“See, you roll the ball and it comes back and you have to get it when it comes back, you have to catch it Glimmer Two..Three..Two…Whichever Mini Glimmer.”
Clove peaks her head around the corner, to see Cato sitting less than the length of his legs away from the wall, the twins situated side by side in front of him. He’s rolling a weighted ball into the wall, letting it slowly return and land at the feet of either twin. Once the ball hits one of their feet they squeal in delight, before they both turn back to look at him sets of wide green eyes waiting for him to push it back.
“You can use your legs! Come on, kick it.” Cato tries again, this time grabbing one of their little feet and nudging at the ball, earning delighted giggles from both of them.
“Where did you learn how to do that?” Clove interrupts, breaking into a bemused smile as she settles down on the floor beside them. Almost instantly his hand comes up to rest on her knee, squeezing gently before he nudges the ball away.
“This? I used to do this when Cora was little. I didn’t know how to play with her.” He explains, using his other hand to send the ball rolling back towards the baseboard again. “I still don’t know how, apparently.”
“They clearly love it.” She assures him, raising her eyebrows into a playful smile as the girls both lock in their gaze on her instead of the ball. One reaches little grabby hands towards her again, and she offers the baby her finger to hold to tie her over with Cato for just a little bit longer. “You’re good with them. Like…really really really good. You should probably do it more often.”
“I don’t think they’re going to be very athletic, which is kind of shocking considering who they came from..” Cato muses, nodding towards the baby that is so enamored with Clove. “I think they like you, Clovey.”
“They’re six months old, give them time to grow some coordination.” Her smile softens as she leans in and scoops up whoever it is, letting the baby snuggle directly into her arms. “Baby, which one of them is this?”
“I have to be honest Clove, I have no fucking idea.”
“Glimmer will be back for them soon, anyway.” Clove shrugs, taking the opportunity to lay her head on Cato’s shoulder, stifling her own yawn as she watches one of the twins do the same. “This is weirdly exhausting. Not in a bad way. Just..I’m really fucking tired.”
“It’s probably easier if there's only one.” Cato shrugs, gently pushing the ball out of reach and settling the remaining twin in his own arm. “You’re right though. I don’t know how Glimmer is literally always bouncing off of a wall with them.”
“It’s ‘cause they’re all she’s ever wanted.” Clove slurs, stifling another yawn into his shoulder, leaving her forehead pressed into him for just a minute. “It’s like she’s living a dream.”
“I mean…I get it.” He admits, keeping his eyes focused on the baby who was rubbing adamantly at her little tired eyes.
“Yeah?” Clove mumbles in response, resting more and more of her weight against Cato’s arm.
“Yeah.” He reiterates, subconsciously moving his right arm containing the baby, lulling her closer to the sleep she clearly craved. “I think we should talk about-”
Before he can finish his sentence, he feels the bulk of weight sink into his left arm. He glances over to Clove, who has fully slipped to sleep against him, as has the baby who clings to her neck.
“I guess we’ll talk about it later, huh Kiddo?” He whispers to the baby he holds, who is quickly falling asleep herself. Cato surveys between the three of them, and the tired smile he wears falls when he realizes he has more sleeping girls on his hands than he has arms.
It’s..God only knows..how long later when Clove is startled awake by a hand on her shoulder shaking her gently. “Clove..Clove, we’re back.”
She’s jolted awake, really, disoriented and confused. Somehow (Cato) she ended up in the recliner, covered in a thick furry blanket with the baby sprawled out on top of her. Her hand almost instinctively comes to the baby’s head as she’s startled awake, just naturally trying to keep her calm and sleeping in her arms. “Huh, what, what time is it?”
“It’s nine thirty one.” Comes an amused, whispering tone from her left, where Marvel’s hand still rests on her shoulder from where he just shook her awake. “The lights were all off, we knew you had to be asleep. How were they?”
“Fuck, I thought it had to be like three in the morning, what do you mean it’s only nine thirty?” Cato mumbles from across the room, where he’s fully sprawled out on the couch with the other twin asleep on top of his chest.
“We told you we’d only be a few hours..” Glimmer chimes in, the noise of sequins rustling against each other mixed with heels on hardwood announcing her entrance. “Where are my girls, I miss them!”
“Can you whisper, we just got to sleep.” Clove whines, forcing her eyes open as she feels the baby she holds beginning to move and wake at the sound of her parents. She peaks an eye open up at Marvel where he stands over her and can’t help but smirk at the ruffled hair and pink lipstick at the collar of his shirt and dipping underneath. “Looks like you had a good night.”
“Good for you, we didn’t watch them for nothing then. I’m proud of you, Marvel.” Cato mocks, though he doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to make fun of them.
Glimmer’s eye roll may as well have been audible, as she is heard tossing her shoes to the side with an audible thunk as they hit the wall. “You two are the actual worst, now give me Stella. I need her first. We’re just staying here, by the way, it’s too late to take them on the train.”
“It’s nine fucking thirty? Too late, what happened to nights starting at nine thirty” Cato questions, finally forcing himself to a half sitting position so he can fully (playfully) berate their friends.
“It’s fine, you can stay, that's..fine. Whatever.” Clove half heartedly waves a hand off in defeat. “Stella? Do you have a favorite? Is that why you need her first?”
“Don’t be silly, Clove. It’s the schedule. I feed Stella while Marvel gives Aurelia her little bath and gets her ready for bed, and then we switch before they go to sleep. It’s a little routine.” Glimmer explains, kneeling beside Clove with a tired smile. “Which one do you have?”
Cato and Clove freeze, eyes flitting towards the other just momentarily.
“Uh..yeah..I have one of them.” Clove starts, before Cato cuts her off.
“I have no idea, they’re literally identical. You didn’t color code them, how were we supposed to know?”
Marvel’s eyebrows scrunch together in real confusion, looking between their overly-tired friends. “What do you mean, they’re not identical?”
“The fuck do you mean-”
Marvel laughs, not even bothering to stay quiet for the sake of not waking the girls. It doesn’t hurt, though, because as soon as the baby in Clove’s arms hears him she is woken from her dead sleep. She lifts her little head, whipping it as fast as she can to find the source. As soon as she sees him, despite how tired she is, the widest smile breaks out on her baby face. It’s as if Clove is a stranger as soon as the baby sees her dad, when one baby hand comes up to reach for him.
He wastes absolutely no time taking his girl, and if the baby seemed to snuggle into Clove before, she practically melts against Marvel as soon as she is in his arms. If a baby could hold stress she would have just released all of it, snuggling her face into the fabric of his shirt. She absolutely clings to him, babbling softly until she’s effectively nestled into him. “Hi angel baby,” He whispers to her, kissing the top of her curl covered head as she clings to her dad. “Did you miss us too?”
“He’s kidding. But, also, I didn’t think I needed to color code them. Their earrings are their initials.” Glimmer teases, reaching down to just scoop the still sleeping Stella off of Cato. “Stella also likes to talk more, and Aurelia likes to bite on her hands more. I think she’s getting another tooth. Can’t wait for that.” She deadpans, instantly pulling her little blonde baby to eye level and kissing all over her face. Stella giggles, wrapping her little hands around the top of Glimmer’s. “God I missed you, sunshine.”
“I swear they liked us!” Clove defends, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I thought they did.” They had initialed earrings. Of course they did.
“Of course they do, we’re just their parents.” Glimmer promises, before curling up at the end of the couch nearest Clove with Stella absolutely curled up against her. “They’ve never been away from us. They probably thought we were gone forever-”
“Glimmer not this again, please don’t cry-” Marvel pleads, subconsciously swaying back and forth with Aurelia in his arms.
“I’m not crying. I’m just saying. They’ve never stayed with someone else before. Ever.”
“Not that we minded, but, wasn’t it a little freaky to leave them a District away? I thought you would have asked Cashmere, she’s right there?” Clove asks through a yawn, head resting in the palm of her hand as she rests her elbow on the armrest. “Like I said, not that we care but…”
Glimmer gives a tired smile herself, looking away from her daughter and up at Clove. She even spares a glance at Cato before letting out a little sigh. “We could have asked Cash or Gloss, sure. I dunno. They’re great. They would do everything for me. They would have said yes but…”
“We talked about it a lot,” Marvel interjects, giving a little shrug. “We barely wanted to leave them at all.”
“We just…thought they’d be better with you two. We’ve never left them, but if something had happened to us and we never came home…we knew they’d be safe here. You’d take care of them. I dunno, it just felt right. We trust you, we felt the best leaving them with you two. You aren’t like..parents. But you could be.”
“And Cato was going to force us out the door, we knew that too.”
“You’re welcome for that, you clearly benefited, Marvel.” Cato scoffs, but sits forward and digs his hands into his eyes to allow himself to stay awake. Not even ten and he’s fighting sleep, how the hell did he get here from the kid who won the Hunger Games?
“Oh. That's..oh.” Clove whispers, the gravity of their trust in her leaving her borderline speechless. They’ve seen what she was capable of and they still chose her, they still trusted her with the most important part of their lives. “..thank you…”
“At the end of the day, we love Cash and Enobaria but..when it comes to who’s going to do a better job at playing house with our babies..it’s an easy choice. It’s not even a question. You aren’t parents but you could be. Good ones, too.” Glimmer smiles, offering the words with genuine love for her friends. “And Clove knows how to cook, which is a plus too. Speaking of, honey, can you get me a snack?”
“Damn, you got Glimmer asking for food, good for you, you did something right today.” Cato practically jumps off the couch to grab Marvel by the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. And I’d say thank you, Glimmer, but you’re right. We’ve actually never been less than perfect at anything we’ve ever done ever in our lives. We’re kind of flawless, if you didn’t know!”
“You’re the fucking worst, man.” Marvel mumbles, but does follow Cato’s guidance into the kitchen.
“He is the worst.” Glimmer tells Clove once the boys are gone, tucking her feet up into the couch with her before she shifts Stella in her arms. “Not entirely. I meant what I said. We trust you. And you would be good at it. I know you don’t want to, and I respect that. But you’d be good at it. The girls adore you.”
“...yeah, I know.” Clove admits, curling up on her side, pulling her blanket back up over her shoulder as she turns in her chair to face Glimmer. Before she thinks too long about the fluttery feeling she has in her chest, at the compliments but also just the idea of her own little blondes, she abruptly changes the conversation. “ You’re a good mom, Glimmer. The best, really. But I gotta say,I feel like it’s not the most romantic anniversary in the world, to sleep at your friends’ house with your babies.”
“Clove. I don’t know if we ever would have gotten back together if it weren’t for the girls. We would not be even having an anniversary, let alone married, if it were not for them. They are, quite literally, to thank for that.” Glimmer brushes her perfectly manicured nails over Stella’s curls, keeping her calm and comforted in the safety of her arms. “And you know, I gotta give it to them. You think you can’t love someone any more than you do, right? Like you think you’re living a dream but, Clove, it doesn’t even come close to how much I love him when I see him with the girls. There is nothing, in the entire world, better than waking up next to him with the girls between us. Nothing. It’s quite literally a dream come true. It’s better than a dream, Clove. You think you love someone..but then you make new people to love with them and it’s just…I can’t even describe it, Clove. I can’t describe it. I can only imagine that the reason I survived all of that…nightmare...was to be able to have this life, Clove. I know, it’s not my business, but I hope you get to feel it one day. There is nothing in the world like it. It is so so so worth all of it. They are worth it.”
Clove pauses for a few seconds that to her feels like hours. She could hesitate, she could start listing off all the reasons she absolutely should not (could not), she could list off the million and one unknowns that she and her routines could not account for. Maybe it’s her exhaustion, or maybe it’s the permanent look of Cato giving her that lovestruck look burned into her brain, but she doesn’t offer a refute.
“I believe you,” is all she offers instead.
#arwbfb tag#the hunger games#clato#cato and clove#arwbfb au#always remember we're burned for better tag#glimmer tag#marvel tag#glimmer and marvel tag#clato tag#the twins are the real star of this show#pfsk tag#picket fence is sharp as knives tag
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MULTIMUSE QUESTIONAIRE
Tagged by @e-m-p-error
RULES: Answer the questions with the Muses that would best fit the answers. Bonus if you give details why. If tagged, copy and paste into a new post – DO NOT REBLOG!
1) Rank your softest Muse and your toughest Muse. (Personality-wise)
Jayden is the softest by far. He's here for a good time. He's not scary. He's here because he was an idiot. He's a cupcake.
The toughest... is either Hellaina or Tara I think. They're both pretty stable, take no shit muses. Hellaina is Vox's second, and Tara is many things, one of which is a Fallen Angel and a mercenary.
2) Which Muse would blow through $1000 quickly?
Vox or Metatron for two entirely opposite reasons: Metatron only mildly understands money, and just Would Not Get it. Vox has enough money that he just doesn't care. He'll make it back in a day or two.
3) Do any of them have nicknames? Is there a meaning behind them?
Yes! A few of them do! Depending on how much of a nickname one considers Vox, he counts, which was the pretentious gay's use of latin coming in clutch for his name in Hell because he couldn't be Vincent.
Dia's name is already a nickname from life.
Tara's has a few motivations behind it. On one hand, it's more subtle when on Earth, but it's also more casual than Astaroth-- Astaroth is the name of the Fallen Angel, and delegate to Earth and the other Rings. She is a greater demon. Tara is Belphegor's best friend, she's the one who's eating gelato in Italy because she spends so much time in Italy.
Svetlana uses Lana a lot of the time, because it's more recognizable to non-Russian people, but she has a whole list of diminutives with specific usage meanings behind them.
4) Are any of them up-to-speed on the latest trends? Anyone more old school?
I know we all expect Vox to be the most up to date, but he's not. He owns the trends, and he runs them, but the person who spends the most time online, keeping up with them is Jayden. Hellaina also knows as a result of her job.
Adelard barely understands the modern era. He's not up to date on the trends, he doesn't have a cellphone. He thinks radio is too complicated some days. Metatron also has no idea.
5) Who has the best relationship with their siblings?
...Belphegor? The bar isn't super high. Most of them are only children, and while Hellaina has a sister that relationship is... not good. And at least some of Belphegor's are also down in Hell as the other Sins. He has their numbers. It's... well it is. He misses them despite them all, in theory, being there.
6) Karaoke night! Who is likely to grab the mic first and bust out a tune?
Jayden. Jayden is lord of the pop sensation. Dia also is likely to! She'll drag people into musical theatre duets.
7) Who is least likely to enter a beauty pageant/model?
Hellaina wouldn't, Dia... I can see her doing it, but it would be more for fun, some sort of fashion show Cannibal Town is putting on. Vox would be dragged into it through like... Velvette and Valentino, it's a press thing, he would not do it of his own volition. Adelard, Belphegor, Svetlana, and Astaroth wouldn't. And honestly I think Jayden would.
8) If your Muses visited a haunted house where actors scare you, who would panic and who would be unfazed?
Hellaina wouldn't be phased. Dia is having a great time, she's not scared at all, but she's having fun! Svetlana... honestly, I think, might be spooked, but depending on what it is, but has a decent poker face. Tara is unafraid, Belphegor is more likely to be. Metatron would have the like... funny moth-eye effect in which he is shocked but not scared. Honestly I can't decide if Adelard is scared of them, or if he's just been down in Hell for so long nothing even registers anymore, it's just another Tuesday. Vox isn't scared. Jayden is livestreaming the whole thing, he's going in unafraid of anything! And at the second scare immediately spooks and drops his phone.
9) Are any of your Muses particular about taking certain modes of transportation?
Vox has been Hell's foremost advocate for a subway system for literal decades. He cannot drive, so mostly he is driven or walks. He's sort of the one with an interesting answer.
Metatron can fly but doesn't usually.
10) Share a little-known fact about any Muse.
Of the sinner muses, Adelard has the highest body count. He has killed far and away the most people, and considers it wholly justified.
#🌒 astaroth | faithful as a gun#🐍 hellaina | sold her soul to take the crown#✨ from the mortal realm (ooc)#🌙 Belphegor | a place created in dreams#🍂 Adelard | Keeper of knowledge & death#🫀 dia | condemned / consume / cannibal#🪐 svetlana | count the stars inside your eyes#🌊 metatron | divine aspirational recompense#💬 Jayden | clout chasing cloud child
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Multifandom fic recs!
I mentioned doing a fic recs list the other day, and since I couldn't work on my needlepoint for a while (in which I feel like Mr. Thorton's mother doing her linen embroidering in North & South), I actually did one.
This is a multifandom recs list because it was more fun to just skim through various fandom bookmarks than to do a concentrated list for one show or whatever. Also.. some of these are for fandoms I read in and some are just fics I stumbled across one day, so they could be representative of their fandoms or not I have no idea. {insert shrug emoji here}
These are also all m/m and I think.... fairly cis? I did consider doing some f/f and trans and Rules 63 stuff but uh my bookmarks are a mess. The only fandom where I set aside some genderfuckery aside in any sort of organized fashion is Les Mis with Rule 63 stuff which maybe should get its own post. ? If people wanted?
Anyway, read the tags for each story, etc
Recs across the starboard bow, captain!
Star Wars Rogue One
waaay before the movie. I've recced this before. Chirrut/Baze
A Monk in Good Standing (Must Be in Need of a Bro)
The Eagle
Marcus/Esca
What Big Hands You Have
modern au, Esca is a size queen
From the Depths of His Heart
Canon-era werewolf AU
Póga
Canon-era Esca teaches Marcus to kiss slow
Devotee
Canon-era gay farmers with some yearning
The Losers
Jensen/Cougar
The First Eight Don't Count
Jensen is a cat sometimes. Like a house cat. Yeah it’s weird for him too.
By Daybreak We'll Be Gone
werewolf AU (sensing a recurring trope here lol)
Inception
(Obv Arthur/Eames.)
Breaking and Entering
Jeeves and Wooster
Misplaced
Bertie has lost something
Voltron (the… whatever the new cartoon’s subtitle was. Legendary Defender?)
(I know that fandom is a hotbed of strife) but I am not/was not involved in any of that. Yikes.)
the electric synthesized pop ballad of why keith can’t have nice things
a/b/o au... but like... he just wants to be good
The Vorkosigan Saga
This is Ivan/Byerly because that is the only ship that matters
Twenty-Year Man
Ivan's getting older and having some realizations despite himself. Also... side note but... carefully and cynically yearning Byerly is a delight.
Original, historical
Darling and the Cinderella Club
Teen Wolf --HOWEVER! These are all Teen Wolf/SGA fusion
Why? Because the space marine vibes are impeccable
All Sterek
Show You What All That Howl is For
The Ring of the Ancestors is Not a Euphemism
Faint is a Medical Term
What We Do in the Shadows
Something Here Will Eventually Have to Explode
Guillermo/Nandor
Venom
Venom/Eddie, obviously
Heartthrob
Good Omens
Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy
Get Religion Quick (cause you're looking divine)
The Hobbit
all Bilbo/Thorin
Rations
pre-adventure sexual tension
The Subways of Men
modern au, but still with hobbits and dwarves
okay and then because idk I just love them finding each other after things
Plant Your Trees
It's Been a Long Day Without You, My Friend
(slight au)
And then one just to be sad
Hold Onto Hope If You've Got It
Les Mis
Enjolras/Grantaire because I am basic aw yeah
The Laurels of Doing is Enough
modern AU
True Love's Kiss
modern AU but with magic
Adequate
The first in a small Star Trek AU series that is cute
A Reversal of Celestial Mechanics
Canon-era, Enjolras takes Grantaire up on his offers… offers Grantaire didn’t realize he was making lol
There is one where Grantaire is fucking Courf while they both discuss/hint at his feelings for Enjolras but I cannot begin to express the chaos of my bookmarks so.... couldn't find it.
And finally...
Check, Please
Dex/Nursey
Bless This Mess and Call It a Home
Magic AU
The Most Room in Our Hearts
Dex sees Nursey holding some kids and gets Feelings about it
(there is a small nurseydex commentfic with sort of a similar bent but like so many things, it was posted to tumblr then deleted so is now lost forever.)
ok this one is uhhh read the notes and tags. It is known to me and @vashti-lives as the one we don’t talk about aka the 1950s coal miners AU
Strange Lovers
And to finish up, a Ransom/Holster kink/getting together fic that was actually the first thing I read for this fandom.
When You Got Skin in the Game (you stay in the game)
I will post this to pillowfort too but I need to stop and eat first.
#fic recs#teen wolf#les mis#rogue one#check please#jeeves and wooster#original#the vorkosigan saga#the hobbit#the losers
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A Search for Balance
CHAPTER 15: WATCHFUL EYES
Find the masterlist with all chapters of this story here, the previous chapter here, and the next one here.
Tagging: @flareshogwarts
A/N: David Willows (in mention) belongs to @that-scouse-wizard
After the match against the Wimbourne Wasps was over, Ethan and Skye headed towards the press box to give some interviews, while a broadly grinning Dougal Docherty led his teammates to the changing room to celebrate. Lizzie was about to follow them when Ethan called her back.
"Where do you think you're going? Suppose the press vultures want to have a word with you."
Surprised, Lizzie looked at Skye, who avoided her eyes and stared at the ground instead. Lizzie frowned to herself; Skye had been tense before the game, but nothing out of the ordinary. They had won their match, so what was wrong with her?
Shrugging it off, Lizzie turned to follow Skye and Ethan up into the stands. When they arrived at the press box, Lizzie was immediately bombarded with questions about the match, her recovery, and her expectations for the new season. She answered with professional vagueness, dodging every question about her contract or Matthew with a witty remark or charming smile. When Rita Skeeter appeared a few minutes into the interview, Lizzie geared herself for the prying and probing, but luckily, Rita’s attention was elsewhere today.
"Congratulations on your sensational win today, Miss Parkin." Not waiting for Skye’s answer, Rita glanced at what her Quick-Quotes Quill had already written and nodded with satisfaction. "The change in your approach really turned the tide for the Wigtown Wanderers. As I understand from what your coach - and father, naturally - has said just now, you actively defied his orders after Mr Willows’ injury. Is this your way of trying to prove that you can carry your weight in the Quidditch business? Or is your quick ascendancy to team captain nothing more than nepotism?"
Lizzie's eyes widened at Rita's insolence. Skye's mood was deteriorating at an alarming rate; her posture had stiffened and she reminded Lizzie of a cat ready to pounce.
"It's got nothing to do with my name," she snapped, visibly seething. "I'm a smashing player in my own right. I can lead my team without my dad holding my hand, and if you believe otherwise, I can tell you where to -"
"Skye still has a lot to learn, in many regards," Ethan cut her off with a very heavy hand on Skye's shoulder. "But she's my daughter. A Parkin. She's learned Quidditch since being in her nappies."
"So is what we saw today the beginning of a new era?"
Ethan's grip on Skye's shoulder intensified. "It worked, I'll give her that. But that dallying around with the Quaffle has nothing to do with what we stand for - dominance on the pitch and precise attacks. She'll learn in time that it's about the club and not the player, like every Parkin before her."
Rita's red lips twitched into a sly smile. "So it's true, then? She got the position because she's part of the Parkin dynasty?"
Skye opened her mouth to object, but before she could do so, Ethan nodded. "The Wanderers have been led by us Parkins ever since their founding. Skye has it in her blood. Give her some time to grow into her Quidditch boots, and she'll be worthy of continuing our legacy."
Throughout Ethan's answer, Skye had quietly looked at the ground with a stony face. After answering a few more trivial questions, the journalists dissolved, and Lizzie and Skye were sent to rejoin their team. It was probably for the better; Skye had become increasingly snarky the longer the interviews had lasted, and now she wasn't talking anymore at all. Lizzie knew better than to push her; moods like this had gotten them into bitter fights over the years, and she didn't feel like ending her day with being shouted at.
When they entered the changing room, the mood was already running high. The reserve players had joined their celebrating teammates, and there was music, drinks, and laughter all around. While a smile was spreading on Lizzie's face, Skye wordlessly grabbed her things and stalked away to the showers.
Lizzie hesitated. Her Quidditch robes were beginning to feel clammy, but she didn't want to be alone in the shower room with Skye. Still contemplating her options, she walked over to her seat, unfastening the buckles of her arms protections on the way.
Next to her locker, Orion was standing with Morgaine, who promptly excused herself, when Lizzie arrived. Lizzie watched after her in mild astonishment but wasn't exactly sad to see her go either.
"What was that about?" she frowned at Orion. "Did I interrupt something?"
"Only two teammates sharing their insights about the match," Orion smiled, and Lizzie felt her apprehension melt away. When he offered her a bottle of Dragon Scale Ale, she gladly accepted it.
"Congratulations on returning to your rightful place," Orion said as he and Lizzie touched their bottles together.
"To you as well," Lizzie smiled and took a sip of the ice-cold drink. The look in Orion's eyes told her that he was aware of the tension that was only slowly dropping from her shoulders. He glanced at the door Skye had vanished through.
"Is our captain not in a spirit to join the celebrations?"
Lizzie shook her head. "I don't think so."
"The fire of victory was burning brightly in her when we left. What happened?"
Lizzie gave him a quick rundown of the interview with Rita. When she was done, Orion nodded.
"Every name carries a history that either gives us wings or weighs us down. It is for us to decide whether we let its light nurture us or stay in the shadow it leaves in its wake."
"I'm sorry for her," Lizzie admitted. "Being a Parkin was something Skye used to be proud of. Now, it seems like it's suffocating her."
"The universe doesn't favour absolutes. Like everything else, family pride comes in shades of grey."
A peculiar expression showed on Orion's face for a moment. It made Lizzie pause, but before she could ask if there was something he wanted to talk about, Skye returned from the shower room. Her hair hanging wet around her face, she stalked over to Lizzie and Orion, snatched her bag from the bench and left without another word.
Lizzie watched after her with a sinking feeling to her stomach, which intensified when she heard a familiar voice arguing from outside the door. Hastily putting down her drink, she gave Orion an apologetic look, grabbed her bag and left the room. The fact that Morgaine was immediately there to take her place wasn't lost on her, but she pushed her irritation aside and stepped into the hallway. She had more important things to take care of now.
"I don't see why I can't go in. Do you even know who I am?" Matthew was snapping at a member of the club’s staff just as Lizzie emerged from the changing room.
"Listen, mate. I don't care if you're a player agent, Merlin, or Walter Parkin himself. Only players and the coaching staff get access on matchdays. The club's making the rules, not me."
"It's fine, I'll take it from here," Lizzie hastily cut into the conversation. The staff wizard shrugged indifferently and continued on his way. The look with which Matthew watched him go was dark.
"Who does this git think he is?" he huffed. "Not letting me into the changing room, as if I was some kind of outsider."
Lizzie didn't like Matthew’s tone but knew better than to tell him so. "It's really not his fault. It's just the rules."
"The rules shouldn't include the players' agents. If we want to talk to our clients, who are they to keep us from them? Skye was no help either, by the way. She just ran past me and didn't even stop to back me up."
"You weren't let into the changing room, Matthew. It's really not the end of the world," Lizzie sighed, her irritation at how he was behaving growing.
"Maybe, but it's not exactly polite either," Matthew said coolly. "Actuall, you were supposed to meet me right after you got changed. What kept you?"
Lizzie plucked at her scarlet Quidditch robes. "I'm still not changed."
"And why is that?"
"Ethan had me and Skye give some interviews. I thought you'd approve of that."
Matthew glanced past her into the busy changing room. "Drinking with your comrades doesn't look like giving interviews to me."
"That's team business." Lizzie stepped to the side, effectively blocking Matthew's view of the room. "My business."
"Your business is my business. We're a team, remember?" Matthew replied. Suddenly changing the topic, he took up Lizzie's hand. "You played brilliantly today. How's your hand? Are you in a lot of pain?"
He bent and prodded her wrist, examining it as if it was still fragile. Lizzie felt uncomfortable with how he was touching her but resisted the urge to pull away until he let her hand drop of his own accord.
"I’m in no pain at all. Being back on the pitch is the best feeling," she answered his question with a smile she didn't feel.
"You eclipsed them all today. I'm not surprised Ethan took you along afterwards." A smirk appeared on Matthew's face. "I had a word with some journalists I know. They are thrilled with you and will give you good coverage, I think. Do you know what that means?"
"A good look on the team?"
"A good look on you," Matthew smiled broadly. "Positive coverage makes for a good position with the public. That will give me all the leverage I need when I meet your execs next."
Lizzie's brows drew together in dismay. "There’s still no contract offer yet?"
The smile on Matthew's face slipped, even if only a little. "Thank Godric there isn’t. If you continue to do your job as well as today and smile nicely for the cameras, we can ask anything we want from them."
"I really just want a new contract for the next season, you know?"
"You'll get the offer you deserve," Matthew said with a finality that made it clear he didn't want to discuss the topic any further. "Now, how about we celebrate your victory in style? Let's get you home and into something more appropriate for dinner."
Without waiting for an answer, Matthew took Lizzie's bag from her and put his arm around her shoulder. Lizzie would have preferred heading to the pub with the team to a fancy but lonesome dinner with Matthew, but she had made him wait for her earlier; it was only fair to give him the attention he was due now.
Stifling a sigh, she quietly nodded her consent and let Matthew lead her down the hallway and away from the changing room until she could hear the music and laughter of her celebrating friends no longer.
#hphm#hogwarts mystery#harry potter hogwarts mystery#quidditch#orion amari#orion amari x mc#lizzie jameson#skye parkin#balance series#search for balance#sfb
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hiii i'm new ( in a way ) to twitters rpc and idk how to ,,, exist here ??? like ,,, idk hiw to explain it 😭
hi my angel! do you mean twitter or tumblr? because i have exactly zero experience with twitter, but i'm also gonna be presumptuous as hell and assume it's tumblr! so here we go! i'm going to add a list of terms and definitions below the cut, so bear with me, and i may do a part 2 of this bc like. lads. ladies. legends. the tumblr rpc is terrifying and complicated for new friends. it's still terrifying and complicated for everyone, really, but we just adjusted! i digress:
literally everyone you will ever meet on this site has been where you are. it's a daunting experience to try and exist on a new site, especially if you have limited experience or contact with friends on this site, too! i knew one person who helped me adjust to the site, and after that, i was on my own!
i spent my first six months figuring out rules, icons, and my bio page for my character. that seems like a long time, but i started my blog, recklessly, during my first year of college! it took six months to figure out what rules i wanted for myself. did i have any triggers or squicks? did i have any banned fandoms or characters? i explained my limited activity, i added my age, my alias, my timezone, and basic things like that, but most of my inspiration actually came from reading other people's rules pages!
whenever i followed new people, i made sure to read their rules page first. now, nobody is going to expect you to remember EVERY SINGLE RULES PAGE you ever read! that's crazy! you might read a hundred different lists of rules and more, and you're human, so you will forget things! but the rules pages often include an age limit lately. so, "don't follow if you're under eighteen/twenty one/twenty five/etc." is a popular thing, you absolutely HAVE to obey that, and if they add more requests, like "don't follow if you're part of X fandom, or if you use these face claims, or if you write this character", or "don't follow me if you write with these blogs". you do need to follow those, but here's the good news: you make that decision the minute you see the blog. you don't need to remember those rules further down the line, aside from the banned blogs, and then you just look back over some rules. but i firmly believe that nobody should be taking offence over people forgetting some of the rules they read. i have 300 mutuals on my blog; you think i'm gonna remember 300 rules pages??? not a hope!
now. once you follow someone, and they follow you back, you are mutuals. you are NOT mutuals if you follow them, and they don't follow back, or if you don't follow them, but they follow you! similarly, you are NOT obligated to follow absolutely everyone who follows you! follow the people you find interesting and who have good vibes! don't let the rules pages scare you away; many people use a different tone of language in their rules pages to express the seriousness of following the rules, but beyond the rules page, they're actually perfectly lovely!
now! for things like icons and graphics? you don't actually need them. you don't need a promo, really, either. fortunately for us all, tumblr is entering an era where icons are just like, a nice extra bit. they don't really do anything. they're just pretty pictures of our characters to add a little something to our replies in threads. (again, my beloved, these definitions will be below the readmore thing, so don't stress yourself over the definitions!)
and now for the actual roleplay bit! so on this blog, and many other meme source blogs, we provide short and long lists of writing prompts for the rpc and writers to inspire some threads or passages of writing. in addition to this, there are starter calls! they're very useful, you just make a little post that says "like this post and i'll tag you in a starter!" and then if someone likes the post, you can write them a little starting point for a thread. so, my other blog will be used as an example: if @soulprompts liked a starter call, i would write them a little thing (it can be a one-liner or a paragraph or however long you like!) and tag them by using the @ button, and then their url. so in this case, my url is soulmemes, their url is soulprompts, so it's @soulprompts . like that! then they reply, and i reply, and the resulting series of replies will be called a thread!
now! my final addition here, before this post gets too long, is this: many people use features known as @xkit-extension-blog and @new-xkit-extension to adjust their experiences of the dash. you should download both of them, and you should download "EDITABLE REBLOGS" on the normal xkit, and "MUTUAL CHECKER" on the new xkit. it's very easy to do that! these just make it easier to trim your threads and to see who's following you back, respectively. i can add another post if you want me to, my angel, this is very rushed and i'm worried it's too much information at once!
GLOSSARY!
RULES PAGE: a page where you keep your rules for your blog! many people use google docs for this, and add a link to a pinned post at the top of their blog for ease of use. these rules are variable and depend on your preferences! they should include an age, an alias, maybe some pronouns, and any off-limits content. so "i don't want to write angst", or "don't interact with me if you write any characters from this fandom" or something like that. honestly, if you read other rules pages, they're very very useful in terms of guidance to making your own page!
BIO PAGE: a page where you provide information about your character! if your character is an original character, i.e. your own creation, not found in any public lore, then you need to provide information so people can educate themselves about your character! it doesn't need to be overly long; you can list the important things and add to it as you go along!
VERSES: so most, if not all characters have different verses. so if you take shrek as an example, some verses for shrek could be "before the first shrek movie" or "during the first shrek movie" and so on, so forth. many people get very creative with these, so you could have your character enter new fandoms! so, to keep using shrek as an example, shrek might have a marvel verse, where he's a mutant who turns down an offer to work with professor xavier and proceeds to tend to an onion farm in his swamp while more mutants turn to him for help. it can be wild and wacky or it can be serious, it doesn't matter, once you like the verses!
MUSE/MUN: you are a mun! a mun is the person behind the blog, the real life person who turns on their computer and logs into tumblr. i am also a mun! your muse is your character! so in this example, my muse is hypothetically shrek. some people write on multi-muse blogs, where they write more than one muse!
ORIGINAL CHARACTER/CANON CHARACTER: canon characters are characters who are established in publicly available lore. like shrek! shrek and fiona are canon characters! but if i decided to write another muse in the morning, shrek's sister, re-shrek-a, then she's considered an original character, because she is not established in the public lore of shrek. she is made up entirely by me, so she's my original creation, hence an original character, or OC.
ICONS/PROMOS/BANNERS/GRAPHICS: basically some people are insanely talented at photoshop and whatnot, and they make little images of their character's face claim or some banners to title their posts with. icons can be any size at all! icons and other graphics aren't necessary, if you don't want to make them, that's fine! some people run commission blogs where you can give them money and they'll make you icons and banners and promo graphics for you, if that's more up your alley!
STARTERS/PLOTS/SHIPS: a starter is the starting point of a thread, a plot is something that takes place between you and your writing partner where you decide what will happen in a thread together, and a ship is a relationship between two muses; it can be platonic, romantic, enemies, anything at all! starter calls are posts you make where people like the post and you can make those people some starters. plotting calls are the same, but if someone likes the post, you can chat to them to discuss some plots together! shipping calls are the same, but instead of starters and plots, people who like the post are free to discuss the possibility of a ship with your muse!
MEMES/PROMPTS: finally, memes and prompts are the same thing. they're lists of writing prompts to inspire threads with new friends! i write a bunch of them here and on @soulpromptsts ! there are many meme blogs, however, such as @leneemusing and @ohisms and @nightprompts to name just a few!
#ooc.#long post tw#reply.#cinnanon roll.#( i'm suddenly nervous that i didn't answer ur question my darling )#( pls let me know if i misunderstood! )
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The Harder Path That Could Have Been Walked
So I'm doing a live reaction to my own 10,000 word fic that I forgot I wrote. Link here. You'll probably have to read the fic to understand my reactions because I am not keying them to each part.
A lot of this is me complaining about my own writing.
Let's go!
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What the fuck are these tags? WHAT DO YOU MEAN KIND OF???
Why did I tag sad racoons?
Wtf do you mean "don't summon void dragons" why is that in the tags???
I finally got past the tags.
This is a lot of worldbuilding in the notes let me check how much.
540 words of worldbuilding in the tags alone.
Wtf where did I find that language what does it say?
I can't understand a single word that was said before it translated to English it doesn't really work for an effect like I clearly intended. Plus the paragraphing makes it hard to read.
Bruh the first part was badly written we're starting off strong.
Oh shit, I started recognizing the second part. Ish. Holy shit it's like a core memory was unlocked. I remember thinking this was super cool. Let adult (questionable) me be the judge of that.
Hang on I think I realized why the hook was so shit. I was trying to keep his identity hidden. Still sucked though but good on you younger me. Still too many paragraphing issues. This was before I sorted those out methinks.
Holy shit Technoblade was still alive when I wrote this. Just had a moment while I thought of it.
Eww more text I can't read. Gonna scroll to the bottom to see if I translated it. MF I DIDN'T TRANSLATE FOR EVERYONE???? Where is the fic on my computer I need to figure out the translation- I'll finish this first hold on.
Lmao Tommy got put in his place. Should've put some sort of descriptor on the text so people knew how the Piglin was talking and which ones were talking. It's too intuitive.
"What are they saying?" I wanna know that as well Techno.
I just looked for the document and couldn't find it. The meanings will be lost to time.
Oh shit I forgot about the racoons. I gave Tommy a ton of racoons. That must be the sad racoons I mentioned. Wtf am I going to do with a bunch of racoons???
I wish I didn't press 'enter' so much jfc. Learn to write a paragraph little me. Number 1 thing I'll tell myself if I ever time travel is to write a god damn paragraph. This is exhausting to read.
Ewww I forgot about "pog".
Lol he scared the shit outta everyone you go kiddo!
The references to the bits are actually pretty funny though. I just wish I could understand WHATEVER THE FUCK THE PIGLINS ARE SAYING!!!
Also the lack of racism in this book infuriates me. Don't get me wrong, I don't condone racism, but could they be just a tad bit more racist to properly set up that they are the bad guys. The cult stuff isn't enough. We need to really hate these guys. TREAT THEM LIKE SHIT!
Lmao Tommy just had a moment where he's just fucking experiencing a past life. Which is mood. Like when you're walking in a crowd and you lock eyes with a familiar stranger and you stop for a moment to stare, wondering who they could've been to you. But then the moment shatters and you're left standing with the broken remains of what could never be.
The pacing and plot convenience is shit though (where is the racism? The foreign and silent curiosity of who you are?) let me just continue the fic.
I WANT TO FUCKING READ THIS FIC NOT A TON OF GLYPHS! The whole fic will be like this god dammit. I didn't realize this was my era before I learnt how to write foreign languages.
Haha. The random moment where it's just gibberish and then "fuck".
For those of you who aren't reading alongside me, here's piglin dialouge for reference:
"ᛟᚺ! ᚺᛁ! ᛁᛟᚢ ᛊᛈᛖᚨᚲ ᛈᛁᚷᛚᛁᛊᚺ?! ᛏᚺᚨᛏ×ᛊ ᚷᚱᛖᚨᛏ! ᛗᛁ ᚾᚨᛗᛖ ᛁᛊ ᛉᛖᛈᚺᛁᚱᚢᛊ!"
wtf does that even say???
"... that good old pogtopia look in his eyes" what was younger me smoking???? I can picture the exact expression but jesus christ kid are you alright?
Why the fuck can Phil speak english? Are they all speaking a different language? What is happening right now?
"The door to their cell swung open and Mr "Goes missing and freaks everyone the fuck out but is fine since he joined a cult" runs in." Holy shit little me you fucking killed him.
"Don't worry mate you won't be sacrificed." What kind of reassurance is that? I know it's like that on purpose but it's terrible. The unknown is scarier than the known. That's what I was banking on with Sinners.
"Eventually, Wilbur stopped looking like he was 5 minutes away from war crimes and now looked like he was 2 seconds away from war crimes for a different reason." I'm sorry but these quotes are something else. Where is the comma? You could've made this a beautiful paragraph but it's just a sentence. DESCRIBE THE ANGUISH!
Which corner is Wilbur staring at? Shouldn't he just like... glare at Phil with murder in his eyes? Also why is Tommy the attack dog? I get that Wilbur is roleplaying a drama club goth but shouldn't Techno logically be the protective one here? Or them all trying to shuffle each other behind themselves like some weird fight. And Phil's just standing there confused and vaguely exasperated, like it's someone else's emotions.
Don't make me rewrite this fic I don't want to touch it again.
Lmao them being so distracted by roleplaying drama kid goths and they forget to escape. Most realistic thing I've seen so far.
WAIT THIS IS ME PRE-PANIC ATTACKS THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH.
Plaininnit lol that's actually a good one. Also why are they answering? Make him fight for the info you muppets! But the mental disorders though.
What was the point of that entire prison scene? It looks like it served no purpose. It didn't move the plot forward at all! It just served to show us that Phil can also speak normal? Like- we could've had that later?
At last, a piece of dialogue I think I understand! The X must be an apostrophe then.
Why is Wilbur speaking in percentages? I should've had Techno's chat run a poll and the odds not looking too good.
Why is Phil in the cult council? Did I explain that? Idk if it was in the worldbuilding or later...
Why'd Tommy also shout in another language? What is with younger me and making reading difficult? I can tell why this one was so poorly recieved, nobody wants to translate a book to read it.
Eww I used "snapped" twice in the same sentence.
Why is Tommy suddenly mute now? I know I had a reason, I just can't remember it.
Hang on I gotta scroll up and read some world-building rq.
Wait fuck what is the techno quote??? oh right- "WELCOME HOME THESEUS!" Just got to the part where Tommy mimes his name across.
*to the music of where is the justice* "Where is the pacing?"
Why the music memory thing? I know what I'm meaning for the audience to ask themselves but why did I do that? I should've introduced that later on. It would've made a better plot.
Lmao the warped fungus bit was funny though.
Bruh I nailed the creepy elder thing on the head. I don't know why I'm just good at writing sleazeballs taking advantage of kids (not sexually, just in a way that grates uncomfortably against the reader). I don't know where that comes from.
WAIT I THINK I MIGHT'VE REMEMBERED A PLOT POINT! Are all of Wilbur's snakes lavaproof? Is that why I had the scene?
Oh that is disgusting what is wrong with you little me? I should've tagged cannibalism. It feels like cannibalism.
The pandora's vault Dream being grounded bit is funny and I live for it. Little me had ideas. Offputting ideas but ideas.
Lol Elder took the jukebox.
This is so uncomfortable to read but not in the way an Elder scene is. Just Phil thinking that Tommy's eyes being red means he's happy but it's fake. And Phil hating it when Tommy's eyes are blue is just tragic. Because it comes across as Phil hating it when Tommy is himself and then he's happy when Tommy wakes up brainwashed but Tommy came to him for comfort because he was fucked I just- Little me you are one messed up kid.
HAHA He named Cat "Dream" because it envokes bad memories.
Oh wait that's what the beneath the surface intention was. The surface reference was that the colours reminded him of the people.
Phil dropped Ancient Debris on his foot. Wouldn't it be fucked up if Mojang added a weight limit in Minecraft?
KRISTEN!!!!
The typos in her description though... I want to cry.
OMG KRISTEN IS HIS THING! That's actually adorable though. Little me knows how to make me aww.
More Techno vs the Warped Fungus bit I am living for it.
What is with the blue and red strobe lights that are Tommy's eyes? What is wrong with him? Little me? Explain?
Wait why is everyone just vibin in the castle? What's with that? Also Phil being a moron for Kristen and she's just being a little shit. Dream joined a nether fortress as well lmao.
Oh that's what the warped fungus bit joke was for. So he could still be lava-proof.
BRUH WHY DID I WRITE THAT??? I SPOILED THE PLOT TWIST!
Wait why are we singing ten duel commandments? Did I organize the ending to that song? that sucks.
OH MY GOD I WROTE A CHILD GROOMER??? Holy shit that is foul. I was a child when I wrote this. What the fuck? No wonder why I was getting the heebie jeebies. I literally wrote the Elder as a character that is grooming Theseus.
The wills part was so out of place idk.
Double use of worried kill me now.
Oh damn the Phil and Kristen scene hit. That one definetly didn't feel out of place.
OH SHIT I didn't expect Phil to pull Tommy out of his ass. The jail scene looks important now.
They found him. Chat. It's only a matter of time.
Aww trauma babies. Them all being so traumatized that they're fully on alert and watching for fireworks.
LMAO SHIT HITS THE FAN AND PHIL DIPS WHAT A CHAMP.
Also the fact that I'm pretty sure the Elder was placing Tommy into a drugged trance and basically hypnotising him is fucked up. Younger me you are messed up.
Kristen's entrance was pretty darn good. Like the crows being death and just everyone and everything knowing who exactly is gracing their halls is terrifying and excellent.
Philza for the save finally! Let's go!
Lmao Techno's mates at the Bastion being right bastards and telling the gossip I am living for it.
OH shit, the author notes at the end. The entire flock was there. Damn, Elder was not escaping with his life after grooming one of his kids.
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And that's it! I hope you enjoyed my commentary on my 10,000-word book. I actually found it enjoyable to rediscover my own book. I can understand how other people got put off by it but after slogging through the dialogue I couldn't fucking read it was a decent story. A few issues but overall a fun experience.
#writing#fiction#ao3#dream smp#technoblade#tommyinnit#wilbur soot#philza#dream smp fanfiction#blind reaction#blind reacting to my own fic#i regret everything#i regret nothing
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to my dearest beloved ♡ just like that, the tailend of summer is upon us. has the blistering heat been treating you alright? hopefully you kept yourself hydrated and fed to ward out fatigue. what have you been up to these days? has work been smooth? have you seen any movies or shows as of late? i certainly hope you've had time for yourself amidst the chaos of life, here and there.
i've taken the time to look through your blog to catch up the last little while, and remembered that you used to have a tag for me! i filtered through it and felt myself grow guilty since you left me posts and messages there that i hadn't seen -- i'm sorry for leaving you speaking into the void; for not answering your calls. i know it's not enough to respond now but for what it's worth, i'm eternally grateful you think of me and leave me behind notes for me to open up whenever i happen to swing by. i'll try to make up for a pixel of what you provide to me in these letters of mine ♡
you told me in a previous reply that you'll be going home in november! is that still the plan? how are you feeling about that? are you excited, nervous, a little bit of both? hopefully all goes smoothly by that time and you are greeted with love by your family. will you be staying long, for the visit? hopefully you also enjoy all the homecooked meals and mini adventures i'm sure you'll get up to. i've only ever gone to vn once in my life, when i was a tiny kid -- i don't remember much now. (other than the vendors selling bánh canh for breakfast and me burning my left calf on a motorcycle exhaust ;-; i still have the scar!)
as for about me the last little while, life has been dizzying but in a good way. (1) i've recently gotten promoted at work (*´︶`*) ! which is crazy to me, because i've only been working at my clinic for just over a year... i had maybe 48 hours of full-on freakouts about the matter, feeling the suckerpunch of imposter syndrome and anxiety, but it was ultimately my circle of those closest to me that encouraged me to take the position ;u; it's going to be a huge, HUGE professional shift for me but it will open more doors than i could imagine. i'll be biting my fist probably the first 3 months into this but! slow and steady!!! (2) truly entering the era of seeing friends getting engaged and going to wedding ceremonies, left and right. it's making me excitedly nervous of hoping one of my closest friends will pop the news one day too! (i will bawl my eyes out, rip me and my makeup.) my love and i have gotten to the point in our relationship where we freely say to each other things like do you think we could have that at our wedding too? and okay but a good portion of our budget should go to the food, duh HAHA many people are asking us when is our turn, as we're hitting 6.5 years in august, but we're obviously not ready yet -- and that's okay~ we got the roles down though, of who would organize/take care of what, since he knows how much planning helps me feel safe and secure (TヮT) (3) i'm optimistic of how my strained relationships with certain family members will pan out, since i've been actively going to therapy to help heal my inner child from feelings of abandonment and pressure of being the eldest girl. it's oddly taboo to talk about actually receiving therapy, despite it being encouraged all the time in modern day today; i always get a pitiful look whenever i tell someone in passing that therapy has actually been helping me the last two months. it makes me a little sad knowing judgment still circulates for mental health but i suppose it's more of a mental game for me to get over.
goodness, my letters are out of control in terms of length. i'm sorry for breaking your screen and possibly your brain, jen love. take your time with this -- and maybe you wish not to respond at all and that's okay with me too. just know that i'm thinking of you, wholeheartedly, and am sitting down with a cup of tea beside you for a chat.
i miss you, eternally. thương thương~
with all my love,
cee ♡
can you imagine the way i soared when i came back from making dinner to see this in my inbox.. every time you swing by i swear it makes my whole day :')
the weather has been so weird here lately. just last week i was feeling like a lobster being boiled alive lol and now it's so cold that everyone's busting out their sweaters and hoodies again. work is okay, altho i'm getting restless and i'm already on the hunt for the next thing 😰 one of my closest friends here (who's also my roommate) is moving away in a few days so i've also been thinking about moving to another country
i'm so behind on all of my shows bc i'm getting into TXT 😂 tho i did go and see Barbie yesterday and that was the first time i ever cried in a movie theater lol
i do mean it when i say that i miss you on tumblr a lot and whenever certain things happen, i just think "I WISH I COULD TELL CEE" 😂 i'll leave all my notes to you under your tag from now on hehehhee. but ofc please never feel guilty about not seeing them. i know my blog isn't the most organized space and chaos ensues here every day hahahaha, but more importantly i know you've got a lot of things going on and i'm just grateful that you're here in any capacity at all <3
the plan is still to go home in november! i bought my plane ticket back in may :D i'll only be there for about 3 weeks, which is kinda short considering i haven't been back since early 2020, but oh well. i had to coordinate with my sister so we could both be there at the same time (she moved to canada so now geographically she's even closer to you than i am 😂). from now on i'd like it if i could go back every year but we shall see how things turn out! i've been so excited about it ever since i got the ticket (tho i can't say i'm looking forward to the 16hr long flight) and i've had to start putting myself on a diet in preparation for three whole weeks of nonstop eating once i'm back home lol. believe it not, i have never had bánh canh in my 23 years on this earth 😂 am i failing my people 😂
congratulations on your promotion!! your friends have probably talked your ears off about this but you're so smart and hardworking and you deserve this so so much <33 i'm glad to hear that you've started therapy too. i know it's not a very widely accepted concept in our culture but it's a huge step, and i'm proud of you for taking it <3 every time you mention your beloved i just go :')) bc you two are so wholesome it's like maybe!jk coming to life 😂 happy 6.5-year anniversary to you in advance <3
you could send me a whole thesis-length letter and i'd still ask for more 😂 thank you for popping in and letting my july end on a happy note. love you and miss you always, thương thương ♡
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Architectural Digest || Caius & Demetri (HC)
Requested by Anonymous: "Please can I request headcanons of Demetri and Caius with an s/o who enjoys interior and architectural design? one who is especially impressed by Volterra, thank you"
Hello there dear Architecture Anon! Once more we find ourselves in the artistic corner on my blog; I will not complain.
If anyone is interested, my series "No Place Like Home" depicts what I imagine Volterra looks like. Is it self indulgent and over the top? Yes. But I think The Volturi only deserves the very best. My general Volterra tag also has a lot of content.
𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.
𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢
Caius is one of few vampires who has been with the coven since it's humble beginnings. He has seen the town and surrounding areas change through the centuries. Will gladly weave the tale of how Volterra rose from being a small Etruscan settlement into becoming the seat of power and influence over vampire kind for over a millennia. If his mate is interested in hearing all his stories, they might just have to find a comfortable place to lay back for a couple of days.
"You have caverns?" "Yes, that is where we lived in the beginning, it was the safest option. They have quite beautiful carvings in them, and we have installed better lighting over the years." "Would you show me?" "Of course."
Will make sure to point out his own art, after all most of the public collection is his pieces; though attributed to an anonymous painter. He might just stand there for hours pointing out the tiniest of details in his art that just makes it all the more personal. His mate gets to see his eyes truly light up as his true passion for the subject starts to bleed through the icy exterior he is quite known for. For a while their attention would just be on him, until he realises their attentions are solely focused on him. His eyes would soften; a warm smile overtaking his features.
"Aro became quite fond of the Baroque era, I drew the line at making the entire palace Rococo however" "... The intricacies in the architecture and details makes a lot of sense now. But there is also Classical elements?" "I wanted to tone it down and championed for the Neo Classical touches" "That was probably a good thing."
𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢
I have mentioned on many occasions that I imagine Demetri's room to just be filled with different items from all over the world. So if his mate ended up being quite interested in historical interiors, they might just enter into a dream like realm stepping into his quarters. Now, he is quite particular about where he puts his belongings, so his mate probably won't be allowed to redecorate. Adding their own little personal items though? Always welcome.
"Where did you even get this?" "Constantinople... around the 1620's I believe?" "Your room feels like a museum sometimes, and I'm afraid of touching anything." "You are a 231 year old vampire darling I have absolute faith in you."
He is not necessarily the vampire who is most interested in art history or architecture in general. Demetri does have an opinion on what he likes and dislikes, but the historical context isn't always that intriguing to him. After all he was there for most of it, and doesn't find it as fascinating as younger vampires might. However, he will gladly stroll through the palace's many rooms; elbows linked with his mate as he showed it off. Instead of facts about the interior he would rather tell interesting, humorous and personal stories about the various items and rooms they came across. The only room he will openly gush about is the library, for that is his favourite place.
"I once broke that statue, it was a training exercise gone wrong." "It has no sign of damage though?" "That is because Master Aro made me learn the art of sculpting to replace the original" "... How long did it take to replace?" "One hundred years, turns out I'm not a natural at artistic endeavours."
#Caius Volturi#Caius Volturi Headcanon#Demetri Volturi#Demetri Volturi Headcanon#Twilight#Twilight Renaissance#How much blood do I have to donate to get a tour of Volterra?
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Could you talk about the Statute of Secrecy? Or the Ministry’s corruption in General :)
Well, those are two different things. Given that I believe I have an ask floating somewhere in my inbox on the Statute, I suppose we’ll talk about the Ministry of Magic today.
I feel like this is such a broad topic though that I’m not quite sure where to start. I guess I’ll just throw spaghetti at the internet wall and see what sticks.
The Ministry is a Reflection of Society Who Never Admitted They Were the Death Eaters
In the ministry of Harry Potter’s era the Ministry is hopelessly corrupt and filled to the brim with spies (more on this in a later section). Lucius Malfoy, very high up in an unofficial capacity in the Ministry and owner of the Ministry’s mouth piece: The Daily Prophet, was a known Death Eater with a very flimsy excuse.
How is he even able to wield so much influence, you ask? Well, I think it’s not just because of Fudge picking the wrong friends.
I think most the population probably does believe Lucius Malfoy is innocent the way Fudge does. I think it’s a very small subsection, i.e. Dumbledore’s lackies, who go “Nah, ain’t buying it.” I think that, in 1981, when it came time to reveal just how many were Death Eaters and how far this went many people just couldn’t handle it.
Because it was to the point where the nation wasn’t battling Death Eaters, Death Eaters were the nation. Look at the members, these are and were the most influential and prominent families in the country, who combined hold a non-small minority of seats in the Wizengamot. More, these were only the participants, combine those who given anti-muggle and muggleborn sentiment (which I believe are pervasive even among those who claim they fight for the rights of muggles and muggleborns) and you get a nation that is suddenly facing a huge cultural issue that was never previously acknowledged.
We’re talking an entire purge of the Wizengamot, of the Ministry, of the major families and cornerstones of this society. The Black family is completely and utterly destroyed.
People were and remain throughout the 1990′s, desperate to believe it was not as bad as it was or isn’t as bad as it is. If Lucius Malfoy says he was never really a Death Eater then he was never really a Death Eater.
The Ministry is Lousy With Corruption and Spies
What’s hilarious to me is not only is the Ministry incompetent. It is positively flooded with spies. Given the ministry’s overbloated, it’s not even a sizeable minority of employees, but nonetheless every major department has at least one person (if not more) who works for somebody else.
Most work for Tom Riddle. He seems to have intelligence in every department. Through Lucius, who is working pretty much as an unofficial aide to Fudge, he has access to Fudge, complete control of the Daily Prophet, and a voice on the Hogwarts’ board of governors.
Through Rockwood, Tom has direct access to the Department of Mysteries which Lucius is then able to take full advantage of.
Lucius is able to set up an ambush in the Department of Mysteries, getting escaped convicts into the building with the none the wiser, and, had his sole purpose not been a prophecy that only Harry Potter and the Dark Lord can touch, he would have been able to take what he liked. (Though it was always odd to me that the plan was to get Harry Potter to do it, when the better solution would have been to polyjuice Tom Riddle into someone else, set up a tour with the department, and then Tom wanders off conveniently to pick up the prophecy. My theory, I suppose, is that chasing after the prophecy was mostly an exercise in punishing Lucius. And then Lucius fucked up.)
And of course, in book seven, Tom Riddle makes a puppet minister. Point being, to me, it always said a lot that in Book Seven Tom just sort of walks into the building and says, “I’m in charge now” and everyone says “okay”. There was no second Wizarding War, it was a bloodless coup that met zero resistance from anyone but angry school children.
But that’s Tom’s spies, we also have other spies. Who am I talking about, Dumbledore’s folks of course.
Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, and Arthur Weasley are all spies, they just don’t have the introspection to even realize it (which really tells you something about the state of corruption in the ministry). They all work for the ministry, yes, but they in fact pass on information to and serve another master, whose goals do not always align with the government and was a hop skip and a jump away from overthrowing the government at any given moment.
And they don’t even really realize they’re doing this! There doesn’t even seem to be a thought of “I’m doing this for the greater good”, they don’t seem to acknowledge that what they’re doing is very very very bad. Arthur, in fact, is appalled when Percy refuses to do this (well, he’s upset for a lot of reasons, such as that he thinks Percy is spying on Arthur for the minister, but in there is also that Percy refuses to help out with the Order or follow Dumbledore without question).
Harry paints the Dumbledore’s Army threat that Umbridge saw as something utterly ridiculous, but honestly if I was the ministry I would be worried about this. Dumbledore’s people have infiltrated the ministry just as deeply and badly as the Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s known for recruiting children into his vigilante organization, I don’t know what he’s doing with an army of schoolchildren but I can smell a coup coming.
Anyway, I’m getting off track, point being though that corruption is not only expected and accepted by the ministry, they cannot recognize what it even is. They’re at the point where paying bribes is allocated in their budget.
I Don’t Blame the Ministry For Not Thinking Tom Riddle Was Anti-Jesus
Fudge is designed to get a lot of flack for his outright denial that Voldemort had returned from the dead. He, and other denier characters, are meant to be fools with their heads in the sand who can’t see the obvious.
I ask what about it was obvious?
The only witness to Tom Riddle’s resurrection, Harry Potter, has a known history of erratic behavior.
The previous year, he’d performed illegal magic on his muggle aunt and run away from home. During the previous school year, Harry was revealed to be a parselmouth in a time when the Chamber of Secrets was presumably opened and the mystery was never fully solved (remember, that it was a possessed Ginny never comes to light for more than a few people.) Beyond that, since his first day of school, Harry is routinely in and out of detention, constantly out after curfew, and only seems to not be in serious trouble because he’s openly favored by Dumbledore (who gives him hundreds of points for breaking one of his school rules, during the Philosopher’s Stone fiasco in first year). In 1994, Harry is entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament under very suspicious circumstances.
We know why all this happens to Harry but from the outside he looks like a delinquent. In fact, he kind of is a delinquent.
Point being, the only witness is not only Harry Potter (who is already sketch) but it’s Harry Potter holding a dead body of a rival in the tournament.
And he’s claiming that a man who has been nearly fifteen years dead, a man who held the nation in terror and Harry Potter is beloved for destroying, has returned from the grave and conveniently murdered Cedric.
Why is Cedric dead? Well, you see, he and Harry both touched the goblet at the same time because they were going to share the reward. The goblet, a national treasure, was turned into a portkey so that Voldemort could kidnap him.
Why didn’t Voldemort just kidnap him at any other point during the year where he’s guaranteed not to get tag a longs or the wrong kid? Uh... VOLDEMORT IS BACK (for the record, I think it’s because Barty got hung up on the goblet scheme and was determined to ruin his father’s day.)
Where is Voldemort at this very moment? Being evil, somewhere, that is not right here. No, Harry has zero evidence this happened.
Frankly, I wouldn’t believe Harry either.
And when Dumbledore goes about promoting this as sound evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned, it starts to get even sketchier. Rather than sounding the alarm, Dumbledore is using this boy’s madness to stir the public into a panic that he, perhaps, plans to take advantage of.
After Dumbledore does that, I would suspect that, even if Harry does give me a memory of the graveyard scene that his head had been tampered with by Dumbledore.
And it’s so convenient that, of all the names Harry picked, it’s Voldemort who killed Cedric. It seems like a ploy to not only deflect the fact that he murdered Cedric but
Harry’s very upset when some don’t take him at his word but Harry’s also a dumbass and a psychopath. He hates everyone who doesn’t agree with him.
More importantly, necromancy isn’t a thing in the Harry Potter universe. People don’t rise from the dead. Horcruxes exist, but they’re extremely rare, and it seems like no one ever really makes use of them.
So, yeah, not unreasonable that Fudge didn’t immediately go, “My god, Voldemort has risen from the dead! LIGHT THE BEACONS AND SUMMON ROHAN!”
So yeah, it’d take me seeing Voldemort waltzing through the Department Mysteries to go “... Goddammit, this man is more unkillable than Sheev Palpatine.”
After the Epilogue, I am Certain It’s Still the Same Damn Ministry
People hate the epilogue, but in a way, I love it, because it confirms many of my headcanons: these people don’t learn a goddamn thing.
Nothing in their society seems to have changed. Instead of one set of families holding all the power it’s now a new set of families and friends holding all the power. The difference being that they are now all in some way connected to Harry Potter.
Nepotism’s still the name of the game, we still see only human children boarding the Hogwarts Express so you know shit hasn’t changed for the goblins, Draco Malfoy’s alive and well and holds a position in the Ministry that Kingsly graciously allows him to have, it’s just now you have Hermione writing all your laws for you.
The Wizarding World is still the Wizarding World in every single capacity. The only difference is that Voldemort is dead again. Hooray.
Harry and friends simply don’t have the introspection to even realize it.
#harry potter#harry potter meta#harry potter headcanon#the ministry of magic#cornelius fudge#albus dumbledore#anti albus dumbledore#anti harry potter#voldemort#tom riddle#lucius malfoy#harry potter epilogue#meta#headcanon#opinion#the wizarding world
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What a weird family reunion Reggie x Reader (xLuke)
gif originally posted by @jatpsource
Word Count: 3515 words
Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.
Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs
A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic
disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.
Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove
_______
Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.
You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.
Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.
And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.
And then 2020 came.
…
You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.
This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?
But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.
“Reggie? “
You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.
“Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”
What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…
Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.
The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.
“for God's sake, where are they?”
You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.
Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.
“omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath
The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.
"Wait, you can see us?"
“as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.
The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.
“So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”
Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.
Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.
“Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”
Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.
“Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”
It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?
You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.
“Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”
Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his
full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.
He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.
“Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”
Wow, that was quick.
“hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”
You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.
…
The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.
Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.
“hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”
Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.
“oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”
Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.
"Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"
"girlfriend?"
"The girl you sing with" I simply said.
"Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "
Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.
“It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”
The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.
“ I’m Luke, by the way”
"Y / N… Re .."
"Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."
"You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."
Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.
“hey, is something bothering you?”
“What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”
“Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”
It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.
“Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”
Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.
“what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact
“sorry, what?”
“the plush, what did it smell like?”
“hot waffle, why?”
“okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”
You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.
“can I use your guitar?”
“hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation
“I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”
Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.
“Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”
You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.
“that's exactly it ... this lullaby”
You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.
"Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”
"No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."
"hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"
You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began
“When are you born?”
“(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.
“What’s your name?”
(y/n) (y/m/n) Peters
It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face. It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.
“What’s my favorite food?”
“Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”
“And what was my favorite toy?”
“I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”
“ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.
Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.
“What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”
“Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”
Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.
But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.
“Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “
In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.
"Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice
Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes. Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing
You're so sleepy
Very much sleepy
You want to go to the fairyland
You close your eyes
And jump into your dream.
When you'll wake up
I’ll still be on your team.
The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.
You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look
"but wait ... how did you die?"
"Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I
bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.
He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name
You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.
The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.
“ Sooo, you made this.”
“ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice
It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.
“Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”
“oh it was nothing”.
“I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”
A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.
“I would do anything for my best friends.”
And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.
“OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”
You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager
“I’m seventeen.”
“Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”
Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...
#jatp#jatp cast#jatp cast x reader#jatp imagines#jatp fic#julie molina#luke patterson#alex mercer#reggie peters#reggie x reader#reggie peters x reader#luke patterson x reader#charlie gillespie#jeremy shada#writing#owen patrick joyner#madison reyes
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I found my way home
Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for.
Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family
TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia
Pairing: Gen
Word Count: 4.1k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)
Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.
It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch.
Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered.
“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”
Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.
Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome
God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis.
Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.
The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label.
Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.
“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”
“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information.
“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”
“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.
“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”
Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”
“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”
Spencer nods.
“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”
He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised.
He settles for, “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”
Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well.
⭐️
He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.
But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases.
His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps.
He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes.
Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.
Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?”
He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case.
⭐️
Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant.
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner.
“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”
“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better.
“Really.”
Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.”
“That’s incredible.”
“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”
They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”
“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.
“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”
He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.
“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully.
“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”
“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly.
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that.
⭐️
Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.
That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.
He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.
It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.
Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”
He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively.
“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.
The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”
“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”
“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”
The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away.
“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air.
“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer.
“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand.
“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”
Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.
⭐️
Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.
He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning.
It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important.
So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:
Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.”
I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you.
Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it.
“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”
Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it.
Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.
Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii
#criminal minds#criminal minds writing#criminal minds fic#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#hotch & spencer#spencer#hotch#my writing#autistic spencer reid#autistic spencer#dad hotch
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✧༺♥༻∞ every month of 2021 ∞༺♥༻✧
post your favorite or and most popular post from each month this year (it’s okay to skip months!)
thank you for tagging me @ohoshi @soonwnu @dongkwan @hyeongjunz @takatamashi & @intronnevermind !! i made my first gifset like ... 3 days before january of 2021, and i have improved a ton & adopted so many groups since then. this was really cool to look back on & see my progress, plus it felt kind of like a journal of where i was at each month this year creatively at different times in life & learning <3
january
popular: this yoongi daechwita x shadow set, first of all can we believe i used to gif bts like semi-frequently jgdsh this was also my first accidental dip into color manipulation, which then became part of my signature gif style. i still get this set in my notifs and will always think fondly of it ~
favorite: my magic island set - forever one of my favorites, even though i know i could do it so much better now ... i have never felt compelled to redo it. i like it as it is, even unpolished.
february
popular: my infamous namjoon x blue color palette set, still i think my most popular set ever. funny story is i switched 2 of the gifs like ... after it had already gone around a bit, so there are actually 2 versions of this floating around this hell place
favorite: THEEE very first I LOVE YOU set my beloved ... this set will always be so special to me as my first treasure set. it was the first time i'd ever seen an mv and just been so obsessed that i needed to do something this crazy haha. the rest is history! runner up fave is of course yeonjun x purple and yellow, some of my finest color manip work
march
popular: yoongi x fire palette, are u sensing the theme here lol
favorite: omg my jihoon alphabet set for his birthday! i worked on this for days... it was at this moment she knew ... it was very clear that this kid had quickly become ult status haha
april
popular: yeonjun in blue hour ! i remember this was when i entered my big gif era JDSGHJB
favorite: my first (??) svt set for don't wanna cry, which was really the first 'title track i showed up late to' moment where i became obsessed VERY late haha. i remember making this set like weirdly late at night but i really love it still. i'd also be remiss not to mention ... junkyu in i love you (big rainbow gif edition) .
may
popular: this chaos chapter freeze trailer set ... i remember being in shock at how fast this circulated because i was quick on giffing it. this is my first and i think only txt set to break 1k notes.
favorite: my treasure pantone set which is the first gfx i made entirely from scratch! and ... this cix jungle studio choom set, some of the sexiest gifs i've ever made.
june
popular: txt magic studio choom and the bottom gif still bothers me i wish i framed it better JKBDHJBF
favorite: favorite title tracks from the first half of the year - another gfx i made all by myself and am extremely proud of, i love how it turned out. actually the *real* most popular set from this month is the template i then posted for it, and that makes me really happy to know people liked it so much.
july
popular: taegyu laughing which like ... so true so valid ...
favorite: ooo this was when i started my abbitv series which . is still unfinished HBFSB but ... i honestly love every set i made for it, if i have to choose a favorite i'll go with breathe x skins because i really think, for my amateur skills, i nailed the vibe.
august
popular: this taehyun loserlover stage set. it still amazes me when i go back to making txt content how usual it is to get hundreds of notes, i'm so used to the flop life now
favorite: this i love you gfx for teumeweek it's still probably ... one of my favorite edits i've ever done. i also went through a little phase with this edit style and i would like to go back to it at some point, it's just really time consuming, probably a lot more than it looks haha
september
popular: another taehyun stage set, this time a moa diary facecam !
favorite: honestly my unhinged chamhwi set i love them so much ... this is one of those ... i think abt my own set often ones lol. you can tell i started school because all my content becomes ... less time consuming from here
october
popular: taegyubin being cute, checks out
favorite: my wanna one light mv set, even though she's a flop she's MY flop and i really love the coloring and composition on it. i honestly didn't make much i really liked this month, probably because of ~ midterms ~
november
popular: jihoon's tmi log set ! you know i made no content for txt that month when a treasure set is my most popular lol ... but like so true that's my bestie .
favorite: my to1 no more x mv set i still think she's sooo sexc even though it was under-appreciated. and my golcha bias airlines gfx !
december
popular: this soobin lovesong japanese ver stage set aka the only txt content i've made this month lol
favorite: well the month is not over yet but i am very proud of my end of the year sets. in particular, my lucy gatcha! set, and favorite soloist title tracks set are probably my absolute favorites. i'm on my new laptop, settling into this new blog, and trying new things out every day. with the compilation sets i'm really enjoying working with colors, which looking back through it really has always been the root of my style but it's evolved a lot over time. rather than just choosing shots and then trying to force the colors to work, i've become a lot more intentional about my shot choices to begin with - my process has really changed and though it definitely takes more time and intentionality, i've been super happy with the results these days <3
tagging on to some of my fave creators n friends ... @donghuun @wabisaba @miyawaki @kdongyoung @slowrabbitpd @dreamaze @beomkai @soppa @berryjaellie @siyoon @hoonlidays @heeseunq if you've already done it feel free to ignore, or tag me in a reply so i can check it out !
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sweeter than you
part of my weeklong shopping spree! (one 500+ word drabble a day!!)
request from anons! <33
pairing: guard/masked man!oikawa x princess!reader
genre: fluff to angst i believe!!, royal au,
w/c: 1.1k
warnings: none!!
a/n: OKAY I HAD NO IDEA WHAT A HISTORICAL AU WAS SO I WENT WITH A ROYAL ONE BAHDHDHD- also UUHHH ive never written for anything other than the canon era so BDBFJFJ HERE WE GOOOOOO
Princess Y/N L/N.
All the kingdoms knew your name. The one who was full of beauty. Full of grace.
All the men wanted you near them, likely for the power, which was why you held masquerade balls.
There was only one rule: you had to be royalty to enter the ball, just to ensure both safety and the pure, royalty bloodline that your father pressured on you so hard.
You couldn't say you loved these balls, despite holding them so often. You did, however, keep holding them so that you wouldn't judge others by power like everyone did to you. If you didn't know who these men were, you wouldn't be able to judge them based off of social class. Simple.
If only it were the same for you. You were required to keep a mask off at all times, because these balls were for you to find a new king, whom you were to marry. How would they approach you if they didn't know who you were, after all? Men had been coming and chatting with you all night, and not one of them appealed to you.
And great: another approached you.
The man in front of you certainly didn't seem bad... not that you could tell with his mask hiding most of his face. He said a quick hello, and his voice sounded like you heard it before. The one downside was that you couldn't necessarily see who you were talking to. Maybe he had approached you earlier?
"Miss Y/N, correct?" A small bow, polite, but powerful.
"Why yes, I'm charmed to meet you." A quick curtsy, as graceful as can be. "You here to find love?"
"Here for a chance to make my future brighter, so that would be a yes," he said inevitably. Of course he was: everybody was.
They were all looking for you, of course. Your hand in marriage was insanely important, but also insanely hard to get... especially because you already had your eyes on someone who was deemed "off-limits." By off limits, you meant that the one that has somehow captured your heart was merely a guard, and you needed someone of royal status.
Oikawa Tooru, the royal guard, had somehow managed to charm his way into your heart. The heart that so many were after.
Which reminded you...
"I must ask... are you of royal blood?" While it was a requirement to enter the ball, you had to make sure. You took a small sip of whatever drink was in your cup. It was likely a delightful punch: one of your favorites.
"Let's say I am not, what would then happen?" the man pressed.
You pondered for a moment, "Well then, all hopes of a chance at a future together would be crushed, I suppose." Another small sip, but this time, you hid a smile behind it.
"Well then, I am of royal blood." You bit your lip. Maybe this one had a chance? You weren't sure what it was, but he was special. With that thought, you chose to offer him a drink.
"Would you like... some punch?"
"I would be more than honored," he bowed once more. You smiled, pleased with how this was turning out, as you poured him a glass of the blood-red drink. "I could never be loved by anyone sweeter than you, princess."
The term "princess" had never been told to you so endearingly before, but you couldn't say it didn't make your heart skip. You felt your cheeks turn rosy; if it weren't for your mask, all of the guests around the ball would have seen you flustered beyond belief. The man in front of you seemed to notice: his eyes gleamed playfully.
Why was he different than the others? Why were you blushing? you asked yourself. Something about his aura was humble but arrogant, powerful and charming. It drew you in.
"Oh, I'm sure you don't mean that," you replied with a polite giggle, to which the stranger promptly kissed your knuckles on your left hand, aiming for the fourth finger from the right.
Where the wedding ring would traditionally go, you noted. You couldn't tell if that was intentional or not, but the gesture itself was touching enough. You also didn't know why your brain shifted to marriage.
"I assure you, I do," he whispered. You caught a glimpse of the sweet smirk on the other side of the mask this mysterious stranger was hiding behind.
His dark brown eyes bore into yours; the amethysts decorating his mask sparkled in your view, begging for the spotlight, but the real gem was his soft, comforting gaze.
A soft, comforting, and... familiar gaze.
"Do... do I know you?" You knew that you knew him... from somewhere. A wave of deja vu washed over you, but you couldn't quite place a finger on where you recognized him from.
"Miss-" His voice suddenly broke character as he switched from playful to desperate. He could no longer keep up the act.
Your fingers slowly reached for his mask, ready to pull it off, and it finally clicked. Cursing at yourself from falling too deep without noticing his true identity sooner, you didn't even need to take off the mask to know exactly who it was.
"...Tooru?" Your heart sank. "From the royal guard?"
You remember him now: the sweet, charming guard who was always by your side. The one who didn't let you out of their sight. The one who never failed to make you laugh, and the one who happened to be standing in front of you, posed as royalty.
The one who you named "the person who captured your heart."
"I'm so sorry-" He froze, not even knowing what to say now that he wasn't hiding in the safety of anonymity any longer. "I- I must go."
"Wait-" you reached for his wrist, making him pause momentarily.
"I could never belong to anyone sweeter than you, Miss Y/N," he pulled away from your grasp, your fingers grazing st the fingertips for just a second longer before he let go. "But alas, I am nothing but a guard."
As the eldest child, your responsibility was to marry royalty, and while the ever-so-charming Oikawa was right there for you, it was true that he wasn't royalty. You knew of this, of course, and you would eagerly get rid of this rule if it weren't for the consequences that came with it.
Oh, the sacrifices for love.
"Good bye," he whispered, before disappearing into the night, and never seen again.
tags!! @floralkawa @ray-ofmoonlight @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @idontlikeyourjob @sushijimawakatoshi @bokutsumie @felixsamour @kozu-zumi @tsumushima @jesssobs @nachotrash @tsukkisberry @crystal-lilac @hannas16 @cherriesradio
#hqcorenet#haikyuu x reader#oikawa x reader#haikyuu royal au#haikyuu fanfiction#oikawa tooru x y/n#oikawa tooru x you#oikawa tooru x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#oikawa tooru angst#oikawa tooru fanfiction#haikyuu x you
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MY LIGHT SIDE [HOOD] - EPISODE.2
LEA
When we entered the door, the first thing that greeted us was the strange smell of melon.
Or vanilla. It was such a heavy smell that it was the kind you wouldn't want to use in your home or car.
Still, it was a beautiful room surrounded by black glass inside. Along all the walls of the room in black and gray tones, Cover posters of famous faces of the company were framed and hung. And I realized that in front of the big table, two large gray chairs were for us. As I was walking towards one of the seats, I saw the name tag on the table.
Bruce Artwein – Manager.
"Hello, Lea, Melody. I am the chief manager and also one of the founders of Artwein Entertainment Company. "After making sure we were both seated, he leaned broadly in his seat and smiled. "I can say I have heard incredibly wonderful things about you." Then he turned the open Laptop screen in front of him towards us. I knew what I was seeing on the screen. A Youtube video that was paused halfway through.
Me and Melody's music video.
I've seen this video maybe thousands of times. I knew all the thousands of comments under it one by one. I also knew how in a short time it just passed millions of views and gained thousands of likes.
"It took us a long time to find you, ladies. So, I was looking forward to meeting you at this time of the morning." Mr.Artwein loosened his tie and turned the laptop to an angle for a little bit of his own view. "It was a feast of talent. I hope you are not mad at us that we took up your time at this hour."
Melody glanced at me probably for some help. She didn't know what to say. That's why I wanted to take over the strings. "We really appreciate you inviting us here, Mr. Artwein."
"Please, call me Bruce."
I nodded.
Frankly, we didn't think we would get such an opportunity like this kind of while sharing our video on YouTube. After Melody taught me how to play the bass guitar basically, we were doing something on our own by making little covers or composing our own songs.
It was pure fun.
And the video we watched was one of them.
It was one of the songs we wrote half drunk at midnight two months ago.
Also, was one of those songs that my half sober me wanted to pour out. But most of it was done by Melody.
I just put forward the main theme of the song.
I saw a little light tonight.
a light of you and me.
to you and to me.
a little light that we talked all night
with our eyes and dreams
where our fingers can't reach
with the things our hearts can touch
don't talk back tonight
don't hold back tonight
just look at me
just stay with me
wake up the light
wake up the light in me because I can't reach it
I can't reach it
please
just look at me and
stay.
And we couldn't continue in the last part because we were looking at each other and hitting the wrong notes so we stopped the video while laughing so hard. We were too lazy to shoot another rehearsal video.
"I can see you," Mr.Artwein said, stopping the replay of the video in my head. "You have a light that could be among the rising stars of this era. '''
He pointed to the video. "You can extract much more than that. Work with us."
I looked at Melody. I could see in her head that she was making plans to talk about this situation with her family. She remained silent.
It was a definitely huge opportunity for us.
Also, was our childhood dream.
We wanted this. That's why we were here as soon as we heard the invitation. We screamed like some kind of maniacs when we got the mail. We didn't know what to do, and during our facetime conversation, Melody even climbed onto her swivel chair because of her excitement then slipped and hit her head on the floor.
There was still a scar on the left side of her forehead where she had hit.
''What are your terms for our agreement?'' I finally asked.
"Absolutely a tenacious work ambition," answered Mr. Artwein. "Then you can leave the rest to us."
Melody shifted, "A questionable answer. It has too many open ends. How do we know that you won't turn us into some kind of slave?"
Mr. Artwein smiled. Even his smile was formal. As if it was even possible? '' To prevent this, bilateral agreements are being signed on paper, Ms. Roachella.'' And added, '' But I like the way you think, girl.''
Melody smiled. "I'd love to see your agreement on paper, then."
I intervened. "By the way, we, Melody and I, will be working together, right? We don't want to be called separate names." Melody turned to me and nodded, then she turned to Mr.Artwein. "We certainly don't want that. We either work together or we don't. That's our first rule."
Mr. Artwein grumbled happily but he was thoughtful, so he asked. ''What instruments do you play?''
Melody quickly answered. ''Classic, acoustic, electro, bass, fretless, lap...'' She used her fingers to count the types of instruments she could play.
Mr. Artwein laughed. ''It's true that you are a talented girl. However, you can only play one of these at a time." With that answer, Melody sank into her seat. He continued, '' Let's just call you, guitarist.'' Then turned to me. ''What about you?''
I hesitated. What should I answer to that?
''She is bassist. And also, you've probably seen Lea was singing most of the songs we recorded.'' Thankfully, Melody answered the question for me.
''Such an angelic voice I can say.'' this comment came from Suzy, whose existence I forgot to exist as she had been in the room silently for so long.
The whole story on wattpad if you want to read ^-^ ->
https://www.wattpad.com/1206132406-my-light-side-calum-hood-ep-2-needs
#calum hood#calum fic#calum 5sos#5sos fanfic#5sosfam#5sos smut#5sos#5 seconds of summer#michael clifford#ashton irwin#luke hemmings
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