#flynn-flinched

[thegroundhogdidit]

flynn rider is transmasc send post

[fanfiction-obsession]

Thinking about a touch-starved Perry the Platypus entering the Flynn-Fletcher household for the first time and receiving ALL the affection. Ate his dinner? Hug. Bedtime? Hug. Candace watching a slightly emotional show? Hug. He has no idea what to do. He’s never experienced this much unwarranted (completely warranted) affection before. Thinking about a touch starved Perry the Platypus learning about unconditional love and realizing he doesn’t have to do anything to deserve this— he might actually deserve this, just because. Thinking about a touch-starved Perry the Platypus leaning into the affection and enjoying it instead of flinching away, seeking out those extra hugs in the morning, cuddling with his boys while they sleep, content, and at peace.

Thinking about a formerly touch-starved Perry the Platypus meeting an evil scientist who flinches away from all contact, even the friendly kind, but goes out of his way to initiate it, and understanding, instantly, without a single word.

[wr2shw]

In love with Summerween rn and would love to know how much the boys would enjoy baking with you and putting up Halloween decorations around the house even though it’s still technically summer.

Summerween

description: the boys are in a halloween-y spirit but it’s literally the middle of summer

pairing: harry lewis (w2s) x fem!reader; george clarke x fem!reader; arthur frederick (arthut tv) x fem!reader; chris dixon (chrismd) x fem!reader

genre: fluff

Harry Lewis

you and harry were cuddling on the couch watching a movie, more specifically, a horror movie. you were trying your hardest not to scream at every jump-scare and he didn’t even flinch once. as another scary scene approached you braced yourself but the scene never came, harry has paused the movie.

“why did you do that?” you ask, a little annoyed.

“we should throw a halloween party.” he says, casually.

“ok, but that’s like in october. resume the movie.” you say, trying to take the remote out of his hand.

“no, no, i want to throw a halloween party this week.” he says, putting the remote out of your reach.

“what?” you ask, your struggles coming to a halt. “like in this week? like in the summer?”

“yes.” he says, like its the most normal thing ever.

“we could throw a party, yes. i have got the halloween decorations from last year saved somewhere in the house.” you say, getting up and going to the store room. immediately upon opening the door you find them, thanks to your amazing organisation skills. “ah, found them.” you declare.

“amazing.” he comes up behind you. “can i decorate the house?” he asks.

you look at him wide eyed, he never offers to decorate, not even when you practically beg him. “yeah, you can.”

“cool. i have already sent out invites to the group.” he says, “only the troops and their parents are coming.” he explains.

“yeah, that’s fine.” still finding it strange that your boyfriend suddenly wants a halloween party. “haz, why are we doing this?”

“i wanted to experience the fun of halloween, that’s all. and last year we missed halloween because i was sick and i know you love the parties because you get to dress up and all.” he explains, scratching the back of his neck.

“oh, haz, you are doing all this because i missed Halloween last year.” you say, feeling touched.

“well, yeah, and there will be a lots of booze.” he says, giving you a cheeky smile.

two days later, your house was filled with people dressed in different costumes, drinking and dancing to the music. you and harry decided to wear matching costumes, with you being catwoman and him being batman. you were sipping on your diet coke when two arms are wrapped around you from behind.

“enjoying the party?” he asks, whispering in your ear. the alcohol on his breath was evident.

“it’s amazing, batman.” you say, leaning into his touch. “are you enjoying it?” you ask.

“oh, yes definitely. we have a bet going that whoever gets their partner drunk the most will get 50 pounds from each player.” he says. “so here, drink up, sweetheart. i want to win.” he says handing you a drink. you shake your head and grab the drink out of his hand.

at the end of the night, everyone was definitely shit faced and on a sugar high from eating all the candies. slowly everyone starts leaving, kissing you guy goodbyes and thanking you for the party, as soon as the night is over you and harry stumble back into your room and immediately fall asleep. “best night ever.” is the last thing he mumbles as a small smile creeps your face.

George Clarke

you and george decided to film a video, trying out different couples costumes, for his youtube channel.

“hey, guys, today me and y/n are going to try out a bunch of halloween costumes, more specifically couples costumes, and rate them, for your viewing pleasures.” george says to the camera.

the first costume was rapunzel and flynn rider from tangled. “i didn’t think you would be able to pull that off.” you say, looking at him. “but you look hot.”

“oh, thanks, love. you don’t look too bad yourself.” he says grinning at you.

“you are definitely wearing that in bed tonight.” you whisper to him, as his grin widens and face gets more red. “i rate it a 9.5/10.” you announce and look at him innocently.

“i would have to agree with you.” he says.

next costume is ‘ketchup’ and ‘mustard’. “this is the laziest costume ever.” you start. “but it is kinda funny.”

“yeah, i kinda like it.” he says, flexing his muscles. “i look whamp.”

“right, stop flexing, i rate it a 3.” you say.

“a 3?!” he says, offended. “but look at my muscles, that must bring it up to a 6.” he says, flexing more. you roll your eyes at his antics.

you guys tried on 5 more costumes. a cowboy and cowgirl where the line ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy.’ was definitely muttered by george. a ratatouille one, where you are the mouse and he is the chef, that one was your favourite since he has to carry you on his shoulders to complete the costume. a ghostface and his victim costume, this was the most minimal effort costume, he already had the ghostface mask and all you had to do was smear some fake blood on yourself. next was nick wilde and judy hopps from zootopia, you liked this too since george has the same smooth personality of nick wilde. the last one was aladdin and princess jasmine where george said ‘i am going to take you on a ride of my magic carpet tonight’

all in all the video was a success and you guys had alot of fun trying on different costumes.

Arthur Frederick

arthur had an idea for one of his upcoming video in which he wanted to make some halloween inspired food/drinks, and he decided to include you since he doesn’t trust himself alone in the kitchen.

“right so, today me and y/n are going to make some halloween themed treats. we are gonna make some brain muffins, mummy dogs, and my favourite jack-o’-melon!” he says, cheerfully towards the camera.

“arthur, why are we doing this is the middle of the summer?” you ask.

“because we have got a sponsor!” he says, and then goes on about the creep ghost game that is sponsoring the video. “ok so let’s get started with the video. first, we are gonna make brain muffins. they are just regular muffins decorated to look like a brain, and since i am shit at decorating, my beautiful girlfriend is gonna help me.” he says making jazz hands around you.

“yeah, can’t trust him alone in the kitchen.” you joke, as he rolls his eyes. “okay, let’s get started. so we have got store brought muffin and some red and pink icing for the brain. so i am going to show you how to do one and then you can do the rest.” you say, and start decorating the brain cupcake. he watches you intensely. it’s his turn to make the brains and surprises you by making them all perfect and uniform.

“not bad, right?” he asks grinning at you.

“they are beautiful, arthur.” you say, smiling back at him, giving him a little kiss on his cheek.

“right so, what’s next?” he says, blushing a little.

“next up, we are making mummy sausages. which are basically pigs in a blanket but with googly eyes.” you explain.

“what now you want to eat plastic?” he asked.

“no, you donut, i got edible ones from the market. so first we cut our dough into equal rectangles and then we will run slices through them, but not cutting them all the way through.” you demonstrate and he copies carefully. “okay, now we roll our sausages.” he carefully rolls them in, trying not to break them. “now time for the eyes and the egg wash.” you say. after attaching the eyes and the egg wash you put them in the oven to bake.

“so while that is baking, we should get started with our jack-o’-melons!” he says, already getting the watermelons ready.

“you are so excited about this.” you say, chuckling at his antics.

“i have got so many ideas!” he says as he gets ready to start craving. “ok so let’s get started, we will reveal them together after we are done, we have 20 minutes to complete it.” he instructs, already getting his craving tools out.

after 20 minutes the timer goes out. “okay, i am done!” he says, lifting his hand up in the air. you still weren’t done so you continued to add on the finishing touches. “hey! hey! that’s cheating.”

“it’s fine, give me 2 minutes more.” you say, not looking up from your melon.

“fine, since i love you so much.” he says, taking a bite out of your now done mummy sausages. “this turned out good you know.” he says, chewing on the rolls.

“yeah, done” you say, placing your tools down.

“ok let’s reveal in three, two, one show!” he says, turning his melon around as you do the same. “woah, yours is amazing!” you made a simple but little croaked smiley face on the melon, nothing too extravagant, but you did crave yours and arthur’s initials on the back.

“shut up, yours is way better.” you say, he had carved out the ghost face mask, it looks so neat. “how have you done that? mine looks like it has been made by a 2 year old.”

“a very talented two year old.” he chimes in and you roll your eyes. “no seriously yours is so cute, and you even put our initials on it.” he says, admiring your masterpiece.

“yours is better.” you say, kinda annoyed that you didn’t beat him at this. “you are really good with food, you know? from today onwards, you are taking over the chef duties.” you announce.

Chris Dixon

you and chris decided to watch some horror movies but with a drinking rule. you had to take a shot everytime you experience a jump scare or you flinch while watching the movie.

“you are getting so drunk.” he teases you.

“nah, i am not going to flinch.” you say. you definitely spoke too soon because not more than 10 minutes into the movie you flinched.

“ahh, that’s a shot!” chris announces, and you whine a little before taking the shot.

by the end of the movie, you had downed 15 shots and chris had 10. you were definitely drunk and chris was getting there.

the second movie started and you were already cuddled into chris’ side. the more the movie played the more shots you both down. by the end of the second movie you both we absolutely drunk. the only advantage that came out of this was that drunk chris was clingy chris.

despite it being hotter than the freaking desert, he still clung to you and pressed kisses all over your face. you guys now decided to watch something light like a romcom so ‘27 dress’ was playing on the tv as he cuddled more into you. he whispered sweet nothings in your ear until sleep overcomes him.

“chris.” you whisper, once the movie ends. he hums in response. “i am scared.” you say, in a small voice.

his eyes flutter open, “what? why?” he ask, his voice sleepy.

“because we watched those movies and now i can’t get the image out of my head.” you say.

“what can i do?” he asks.

“i wanna use the washroom. would you mind coming with me?” you ask shyly. he sighs and gets up, offering you a hand.

he stands outside the washroom he door slightly open, as you do your thing. once you are done washing your hands. you go back to the bed.

“is it okay if we keep the lights on for tonight.” you ask.

“of course. and don’t worry, princess, i will defeat all the ghosts and monsters before they get to you.” you both giggle at that, still slightly tipsy.

you both climb in bed and sleep comes naturally as soon as your heads hit the pillow. chris pulls you into his chest as you legs intertwine with his. his arms hold you securely, enveloping you in the feeling of comfort and safety.

[miidnighters]

Her answer is just a smidge too fast, he thinks, but he hums and lets it go. No point in pushing at things that shouldn't be pushed.

"It kind of feels like it does," Flynn counters, but it's mostly just putting words out there to say them. "But it's not just about her. Everyone does it, she's just the worst." He pauses, grimaces. "That sounds so ungrateful. I love her, I do. She taught me literally everything about being a hu - a person." The correction comes quickly. "It's complicated."

He winds down with a gusty sigh, indulging a moment in a bit of dramatics. "Anyway, I shouldn't be unloading all of this on you, I'm sorry. You were just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet before I dropped in." Literally - he had definitely dropped onto this bench with gusto.

"Do you work around here? I'm not interrupting a lunch break or something, am I?"

"Yes," Rainer lies, like a liar. She didn't know what boundaries were until fifty years ago-- before that she either took the abuse until the pushy people died or she killed them herself, depending in the situation at hand. Not exactly something one can say to a stranger, is it?

The smiling is encouraging. She's kind of glad he can't see her, it likely minimizes how scary she seems. It's the first time in a week a stranger didn't flinch or stare at her.

She puts her chin in her hand and makes a thoughtful noise, aware that without visual input he will likely notice she doesn't make any sounds, and actively trying to produce stimulation for him to combat that. She makes sure her clothes shift, clears her throat. "That doesn't make it more complicated-- people who save another's life don't expect lifelong fealty or subservience for it, and if they do then they're not exactly nice people, are they?" She sniffles a little bit. "And if she cares about you, she won't want to hurt your feelings on accident, either. Right? So she may react negatively, right, but just gently remind her that it isn't about her having mistreated you in some way, it's about how you would prefer to be treated going forward. Does that make sense?"

[jtargaryen18]

The Arrangement ~ Chapter 3 Preview

Hoping to post this one this week...

The betting shop was unusually quiet when an unfamiliar man walked in. He wasn't hesitant, like many who weren't regulars there, but he wasn't charging in like a fool either. His approach was measured, like he knew he didn’t belong but had decided to walk in anyway. He couldn’t have been more than twenty. Slim build, shoulders squared in a patched coat that had seen too many winters. The young man's eyes were sharp, locked on Arthur, who leaned back behind the counter, watching him like this was all a bit of theatre.

"You lost something, lad?" Arthur asked, grinning around his cigarette.

The young man’s jaw tensed. His voice was tight and controlled, but steady. “My sister.”

Arthur’s smile faded—not with guilt, but with interest.

“Ah. That one.” He stood, stretching like he’d been waiting all morning for something to liven the place up. “Bit late for all that, eh?”

The younger man didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Tommy watched from the back office doorway, caught the way his hand hovered near the inside of his coat. He was armed. Brave but stupid.

Tommy stepped out then, made his presence known.

Arthur lit up. “This one’s yours, brother. Came to collect what’s left.”

Tommy said nothing at first, just studied their visitor. Young. Angry. Focused. But the lad wasn't reckless. He wasn’t here to posture, the way John did more and more these days. No, he was here because someone he loved was gone, and nobody was giving him answers.

"Name?" Tommy asked quietly.

"Rory." The lad squared his shoulders, meeting Tommy's gaze. "Rory Flynn."

Tommy nodded. The surname matched the girl’s—his girl’s—file he’d already had drawn up. But now, standing in front of him, the boy wasn’t just a name on paper. He had her eyes—same shape, same quiet fire behind them. Tommy recognized the sharp, observant way he took everything in, saying very little but missing nothing.

But there was something else. Something familiar that had nothing to do with his sister.

Tommy tilted his head, studying him a beat longer. "Who's your father?" he asked. "Where is he?"

Rory’s jaw shifted, eyes flickering down for just a moment. "He died in 1916. In France."

Their father had died in the war then. Tommy stilled. “Name?”

"Malachy Flynn." 

There it was.  Tommy’s expression didn’t change, but inside, recognition tightened his chest. He remembered Malachy Flynn. A good man. Brave. Older than him by at least a decade. They hadn’t served side by side—Flynn was in earlier, already a sergeant when Tommy was still green. But his name had meant something. He’d heard it in the trenches. 

Flynn died a hero, pulling two young men out of a crater after a shelling. The man could’ve saved himself but chose not to. 

Tommy’s voice was lower when he finally spoke again. “I knew your father.” The boy blinked in surprise. Tommy nodded slowly. “He was a good man.”

In that moment, the air between them shifted—not with threat, but with something almost like understanding. Tommy realized that he boy wasn’t just brave. He was his father’s son.

"My sister’s been gone two days," Rory said in a tight voice, cutting to the chase. "She was supposed to be… delivered to your brother." A pause. “No one’s seen her since.”

Arthur gave a low whistle, but Tommy raised a hand. Quiet. Let him talk.

"Our mother’s worried sick," Rory added, his expression cracking just enough to show the truth of it. “She doesn’t know who to ask, who to trust. So I came here.”

Tommy stepped closer, arms loosely crossed. “And your stepfather?”

The boy's jaw clenched hard. Too hard. He didn't answer.

That was answer enough. Tommy watched him try to control his emotions and mostly suceeding. The kid wasn’t just worried—he was plotting something. Something small and stupid, born of pride and pain no doubt. A pistol hidden in the lining of that patched coat or maybe a cheap folding knife meant for a throat that had made a deal no decent man would’ve dared. Tommy knew that look. Young men with nothing left to lose, trying to make the world right with a single, violent act. As much as it was foolish, he respected it.

“You plan on killing him?” Tommy asked bluntly.

Rory’s eyes flicked up. Something flashed there before they were guarded again. “He deserves worse.”

"For what?"

"For wanting my sister out of his house," Rory said tightly. "She's a temptation to him, see. He wants her more than our mother."

Tommy didn’t argue, filed that bit of information away. This wasn’t a boy bluffing. This was a brother who cared more about his sister than himself. And that meant something. The young man had more honor than many of the grown men Tommy had dealt with this week.

He exchanged a glance with Arthur, who shrugged, then grinned. “You’ve got your hands full now, don’t you?”

On the one hand, the boy let him know that, so far, his plan was working. No one outside the Shelby family knew where she was. Not the local blokes who’d heard about the wager and were sniffing around for gossip. Not the old women who watched from behind their curtains on Gray Street, waiting for her to come walking back home in shame.

She’d disappeared.

And in Small Heath, disappearing meant one of two things: death or Shelby. The right people were wondering. The wrong people were staying quiet. That was exactly what Tommy wanted. She wasn’t just gone—she was untouchable. Hidden. Held. And the longer she stayed out of sight, the louder the message would ring when Tommy was ready to speak it.

On the other hand? The situation was too delicate, too exposed, to continue it there. The last thing Tommy needed was a scene in the middle of the betting shop. Too many eyes and ears. Word about the girl couldn’t get out—not yet.

Tommy straightened, smoothing the front of his waistcoat with a slow, practiced motion. “Walk with me,” he said, already turning toward the hallway that led to the back office.

Rory didn’t move. “I came to speak to Arthur.”

Stopping mid-step and turning back, Tommy eyed him with a glint of steel behind his eyes. “You’re speaking to the man in charge.”

Arthur let out a small chuckle behind the counter, clearly enjoying the moment. Mostly because he was still pissed at Tommy for the entire affair. “He is, y’know. Always has been.”

Rory’s shoulders squared slightly, but Tommy saw the hesitation. He didn’t trust this. Didn’t like being led somewhere less public. Smart.

But Tommy didn’t ask twice. He met the boy’s eyes, voice low and final. “If you want answers about your sister, you’ll come with me.”

There was a beat of silence, thick with challenge. Rory’s hand hovered near his coat again, and for a second Tommy wondered if the lad would actually try to be brave enough to draw on him. But then—a slow nod. Rory stepped forward, lips pressed into a grim line, eyes burning with controlled fury.

Tommy turned without another word, the sound of Rory’s boots following close behind. And just like that, the game moved behind closed doors—where Tommy always played best. 

Once the door was closed and it was just the two of them in the back office, Tommy voice was calm, final. “She’s safe.”

[capri-ramblings]

Thinking about a Tangled AU of Riddle but because of one traveller who somehow wandered close to the tower and was only able to see glimpses of his long, red hair, started a rumour that a Princess had been kept away instead of a Prince which obviously no one took seriously because the missing royal was indeed a Prince

Still, it became a sort of silly pass-on-the-tale sort of thing amongst the villagers and people actually tried to look for the hidden princess (to no avail ofc)

Then fast forward and let's start with the scene where Flynn sneaks into Rapunzel's tower except Flynn is this tomboyish female mc and when Riddle knocks her out and we have the scene where Rapunzel holds Flynn as hostage with her frying pan, I CAN'T OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD

Basically;

"Who are you and why do you want my hair?", Riddle has the frying pan pointed dangerously close to the intruder's eyes, any closer and he was convinced he could damage their vision by ramming the pan forward, but as if more confused than intimidated, the intruder looks up into Riddle's narrowed gaze and gives him a rather incredulous stare.

"Is that a frying pan?" He—No, wait,he's a...she? From how Riddle saw them in the dark, he was sure his intruder was a boy but as the words hang in the air, and Riddle did take a closer look, whoever this person was, she was indeed a girl.

Now he felt a little guilty he had hit her on the head but she was still the intruder,right? He was only protecting himself after all!

"Yes!" Riddle said as he inched the pan closer in an attempt to be more menacing, "It is a frying pan and I know how to use it! So, you better tell me who you are and who sent you and why you want my hair right now or else I'll give you another demonstration."

"of your frying pan skills?" The girl retorted but flinched when Riddle scowled and gripped the handle tighter.

"Okay,okay! Geez, spare me your frying pan wrath! I came in here to hide out for a while so I don't lose my—" she stopped, eyes going wide as a sudden recognition flickered in her eyes. "where did you put the crown I had with me?" The question comes out like an unintentional plea rather than an angry accusation and Riddle met it with a practiced act of calm as he stepped back and gave the intruder a knowing smirk.

"You mean the one you obviously stole?"

"Hey, I got that fair and square,you hear me? You better not have done anything stupid with it!"

"Oh, don't worry, it's somewhere safe and sound and only I know where to look."

She gives him a deadpan stare before her she scans the room and her gaze lands on the pot near the stairs.

"It's in that pot isn't it?"

Riddle swings the pan before even thinking about it and as he looks down at the once again unconscious intruder, the guilt from before came back.

Then, it suddenly occurred to him that this was probably the first time he had ever seen a girl. Or really, a person other than his mother.

She looked...harmless? Not like the scary descriptions he'd been told of nor did she carry anything dangerous on her persons when he had gone to check. All she had was that satchel and like she said, the crown inside it.

Ah, right. Riddle went over to the pot right after he confirmed she was indeed knocked out again, and took out the said satchel. When he first took it, he didn't mean to be nosy and look inside, but it had already been opened a bit and the gems that were slightly exposed gleamed so beautifully, he couldn't resist. And when he took it out and saw what it was, something in Riddle beamed. He didn't know what it was until she said it herself, and well, he still wasn't sure what a crown even meant, but whatever it was, it was breathtaking.

He wished he could look at it forever, but before she woke up, he would have to hide it in a better place and after a few minutes, Riddle decided that the only place only he could truly find it again was underneath the floorboards of the stairs.

And when she finally stirred awake once more, the smirk Riddle had was one of pure pride at his own quick thinking. If only mother could see me now! He thought triumphantly.

"Ah, you're awake! Good!"

"...awe look at you, you're practically glowing. Bet you found a better hiding spot for my crown,huh?" The girl said, all smug despite her obvious grogginess. Riddle thought she must be used to being roughened up,which both intrigued and unnerved him.

"Who are you?" He asked, maybe just a bit more gentle since he did feel bad about hitting her twice, but he made sure his frying pan was pointed towards her again.

The girl didn't look like she wanted to answer so Riddle cleared his throat and went, "If you really want to know where your crown is, you're going to have to answer my questions, because you can tear down this tower brick by brick but I'll guarantee you won't be able to find it without my help."

And maybe it was the light or maybe it was the fact Riddle was looking at her more and more, but something dark flickered in her eyes then, before she let out a sigh and went;

"Fine. You've got me there, Princess. What is it that you want to know?"

It took a second but once Riddle registered her full words, his cheeks flushed and he could actually feel the blood rushing up his head.

"PRINCESS? WHO ARE YOU CALLING PRINCESS? I AM A BOY! CAN'T YOU SEE? IT'S AS CLEAR AS DAY!"

"Woah,woah! Calm down there, stop yelling! I was just joking!"

"WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THAT? JUST BECAUSE I HAVE LONG HAIR? YOU STEREOTYPICAL —"

The girl closes both her ears and just when Riddle thought she was going to shrink back, she ends up screaming back at him.

"I GET IT! I GET IT! CALM DOWN!"

and then later, when he does, she lets out a sigh and looks at him all exasperated.

"I'm sure it's because you don't know anything about the village nearby, but there's always been this rumour of a princess with glimmering red hair kept away in a secret tower. Of course it's just some silly made up story,well,not anymore I guess" she eyed him rather curiously this time and Riddle found himself feeling flustered.

"I'm a boy,though." He said, refusing to let her get the better of him. "And I'm not a royal."

"You do have glimmering red hair,though. And you're in a tower." The girl remarked lightly. Riddle wasn't sure why the last part bothered him, but by now it's clear to him, she was trouble. Especially because she has that crown. Whatever its purpose, Riddle had a feeling it's nothing ordinary.

"Your name."

"Huh?"

"Tell me your name. You have one don't you?"

She doesn't answer immediately but when she does, she puts on the same grin from before and briskly goes, "Ryder. That's what my friends usually call me."

Riddle snorts. "Assuming you have friends."

"Ouch. Sharp tongue,princess—Ah, I mean, Prince."

"You—"

Riddle swears he can handle this. He has to now that he's done so much already. And maybe, just maybe, if he gets through this, he can have proof to show he's not nearly as incompetent as his mother makes him out to be.

[tartadxfresa]

unsure if you'd take a prompt for adansey, but if so, them being out somewhere (could be a coffee shop/restaraunt or a book store or a museum) and getting mistaken for a couple

hiii, anon :) yes, of course, adansey are very dear to me!! there you go, i hope you like it!

Gansey was visiting Adam in Boston. He knew Adam didn’t really want him here, in this space that was his alone, but there hadn’t been a day in all these months apart that Gansey hadn’t thought about him. Here, at Harvard, Adam looked both unfamiliar and more himself than ever. Less tired, maybe. More lonely. He was now browsing books in the little shop near his dorm, absently sipping the iced coffee Gansey had bought him, justified only because Adam had paid for drinks last night. His tongue flicked around the straw before his lips closed over it. Gansey exhaled sharply and drifted toward the archaeology section. He didn’t know how long he’d been there before a breath warmed his ear, making him nearly drop the heavy volume in his hands. Adam’s fingers were at his waist, and goosebumps prickled down Gansey’s spine. “Jesus, Adam,” Gansey muttered. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” Adam laughed and Gansey felt it against his neck. He didn’t move back. Gansey turned, holding the book between them like a shield. They were so close that Gansey could count the freckles on Adam’s nose, the small bump at the bridge from too many fists. Adam’s pupils were blown wide. Gansey had always been stupid about Adam. “Hey, Adam,” someone called out, suddenly. Adam flinched. Gansey looked over to see a boy—Felix? Flynn? One of Adam’s friends, someone he’d seen once in a photo. Adam didn’t look pleased, but he turned and smiled anyway. “Fletcher. Hi.” Fletcher’s eyes flicked from Adam to Gansey and back again. “I didn’t know you were— I just wanted to say hi. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Is this your…?” Adam stiffened as the question landed, stepping away from Gansey. He felt the absence like a slap. Gansey forced out a laugh. “Oh—goodness.” At the same time, Adam stumbled through his words. “He’s not— This is Gansey.” Fletcher’s eyebrows twitched, almost apologetic. Gansey felt his own face burn as he reached out to shake Fletcher’s hand. His heart felt strangely full as he wondered, for a flicker of a second, if that’s how they looked from the outside. And whether Adam would hate that.

[stackslip]

the thing that kills me most about the recent chapters is how in the end, violence had always been there, lurking under the surface. denji's attempt to mimic a normal capitalist existence always felt empty because in the end said existence was in itself built on violence that was simply hidden from the world. denji's own upbringing and exploitation and starvation as a child, his debt bondage and the violence he lived through were completely normal. the yakuza are and always have been inextricably linked to the japanese government and they say so themselves to makima in part 1--even irl (check out especially the role the yakuza played during the japanese occupation of manchuria, under the leadership of shinzo abe's own grandfather)! and then the violence and exploitation he went through as makima's dog. so really, that normal everyday he reached for--no wonder it felt so empty. it's always been a lie! the violence has always been there, boiling under the surface. in his life, in asa's life, in everyone's lives. violence by humans, violence by devils, violence through capitalism.

and who knows that kind of violence better than denji. any attempt at building even a semblance of kindness and love and stability ends up being swept away, and it's never even about him--it's always about another goal. he's an obstacle in the way, he's a tool to be used, he's an easy sacrifice. i think in the end the relief isn't just in the end of the ennui and pretending, it's also in the fact that denji's known violence and pain his entire life. it's familiar! it makes sense! what did gillian flynn say again? a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort. denji again and again has been reduced to his most basic bodily functions--hunger and pain are familiar things to him. they're old companions, they're the sole truth in this world, they're what makes sense to him both as a human and as a devil. tearing yourself and others apart--it's the only thing he's ever been able to have control over without someone tearing it out from under him. it's the one thing that gives him agency! it's the one thing that can't be taken away from him! it's what makes denji denji! if violence is your baseline then it's a relief to return to what you know once everything you tried to build has been taken away. becuse really, you always knew it couldn't stay. it was always going to exist.

and i think what kills me most in this is his reaction to nayuta. nayuta, who chapters ago tried to tell him that violence is normal and in both their natures. but when nayuta sees denji both suffering and inflicting that violence--she flinches, because in the end nayuta is a child! and because no matter what she says, denji has tried to raise her in the absence of violence! so when he says "you should stay away from me" he isn't punishing her. he's saying that he's doomed. he tried with her because he wanted to break the cycle of abuse and for the child born of his and makima's mutual understanding of pain to not have to know this suffering. it's what pochita wanted to! he did his best. he succeeded, in many ways. for all nayuta's lack of empathy and talk of inherent devil instincts, she is, in the end, a child. and that's why denji wants her to leave and stay away from him. he can't be that for her anymore, he can no longer pretend, and he still wants the best for her. denji believes he is nothing but a vessel to receive and inflict suffering anymore, and so nayuta must stay away from him lest she be caught up in the fire.

i don't think fujimoto is saying that all victims are inherently evil and going to revert to this kind of state! it's more complicated than that. i think he is trying to explore the nuances there--how difficult is it for a victim of abuse to escape when the violence they've been through is normalized, and even considered a necessary part of how society functions? how does it "get better" when every time you try to build something, it gets torn down gleefully again and again? how do you rebuild yourself when you have been systematically shaped and remolded to receive and inflict pain, and any attempt at leaving that role sees you punished? is it not better then, to just embrace that role? to let yourself slip back in that mold? at least it's what you know. at least the lie is over, and everyone is forced to reckon with what they have created in you. at least the violence is uncovered and laid bare for the world to witness and receive themselves!

[mammalsofaction]

I'm Feelin' Super

Rated: T

Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus, Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Tony Stark & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Clint Barton, Phineas Flynn & Ferb Fletcher & Candace Flynn

Add Tags: Human Perry, The Spy trio dynamics, The Flynn Fletcher sublings being siblings, vague compliance to CA: CW, vague compliance to Phineas and Ferb: MM

Summary:

"More spies. Great." Tony drawls. He casts Natasha a sideways glance. "Is that going to be a problem?" Natasha tilts her head to Clint, lounging next to Sam and Thor on the couch. "We have it handled." "They're fairly co-operative so far, but we're keeping the whos-and-whys on a need to know basis for now." Fury says. "They won't pretend to be happy for long." "We don't plan to draw it out." Tony drawls, collapsing the holo-files into his phone. "FRIDAY, what time is it in Danville?"  AKA; A Phineas and Ferb: Mission Marvel re-write

LINK TO AO3

Prologue below; first chapter is out :)

There is an attack in Brooklyn. It is the second time this month. 

"This is gonna wreck havoc on our insurance plan." Peter mutters, catching the corner on the 5-story from a downward spring. He crouches, surveying the area as the noise of the screaming crowd—punctuated by Red Skull's laughter—begins to fill the air in earnest. Above them, thunder booms; a glorious dissonance punctuates the ambiance of the battle, and the sky smells like ozone.  

Always a good sign to have the Thunder God around, even if it meant he had to swing a little lower the whole time to keep from catching strays.

"Let's keep that lightning and ominous wind on the minimum, Point Break," Iron Man drawls on their connected comms, and Spidey grins as he creeps closer. "I'm flying in a metal suit, over here."

"How are we on parameters?" Thor asked in response.

"We need to give Hill and Rhodes just up to 5 minutes to clear the area, the little guys know what's what."

"Speaking of little guys...," Peter drawls, and he doesn't miss the bark of laughter crackling through the channel. From above, he sees Whiplash creeping far too closely on Tony's unprotected back, which is good enough of a cue as any. He drops a web-bomb right on the face, and kicks the man a good distance away. Vanko screams the whole time; a more wholesome noise to punctuate their current whirlwind of chaos.

Iron Man huffs. "Glad you could make it, kid. Wasn’t getting any younger over here,"

He had only waited, on Tony's own orders, for school to let out, since the call-out had been just within the last 10 minutes of his final period. Peter rolls his eyes from behind the mask, as obnoxiously as possible. "It's called being fashionably late."

"Oh, trust me. I'd know all about that. You weren't missing out."

In the distance, Hulk roars, cutting off the chatter as they re-focus on the battle at hand; the big man throws Venom into the distance, tied like a pretzel, and Thor gets a face full of lashes coated in a band of electrical shock; for all the good that does. He hammers Whiplash into another corner.

Peter mimes a hard flinch. "My guy is not on his A-game here."

"Yeah? You think he's catching a cold?" Iron Man muses. "I wonder if there's some sort of union we can report to about medical leave."

"Truck on your twelve, boys!" Hill barks into their comms, and it's only for the sake of his Spider-tingle that Peter ducks out the way of the first blast; stemming from a black canon perched on the back of a tank. From the helm, Red Skull cackles, and MODOK jumps back into the fray with a miniature version of the very same weapon. Tony goes up, his repulsors aimed straight for the vehicle; but with the tank partially hidden behind the tracks of the subway, there was only so much he could do without compromising the present infrastructure.

"Fri, baby, give me a scan."

"Anti-matter shots, boss, I recommend the team to watch the strikes."

"What the hell?" Peter mumbles, going on the defensive, trying to keep MODOK from damaging too much of the surrounding buildings. "What is it that they even want this time?"

"Let's back off, fellas, these things pack a big punch!"

Red Skull, focused on re-aiming the beast of the muzzle upwards-aiming for the subway tracks-fails to account for the large hulking figure that clamps onto the back of the tank. He yelps, flung from the vehicle itself.

Iron Man whistles. Thor laughs, catching the 70-pound tank like a missive baseball.

"Great work, my large green friend!"

"Hulk pack bigger punch!"

"Let's wrap this up, Spider-Man!" Rhodey demands.

"What do you think I've been doing?" Peter complained exasperatedly, but he turned on the offense, jumping closer to MODOK—growing desperate and unhinged in his attempts to corral him—and managed to web the weapon a safe distance away. Peter webs his hands up too, moving closer, which had decidedly been the wrong move.

"You fool!" The villain crows. "You fail to account for my mind."

"Whoops," Said Peter, feeling himself being lifted via the promised telekinesis, bracing himself for being thrown. It never comes. Hulk, once again, comes to the rescue; knocking into the distracted villain and right into the base of the subway pillars. He falls on the ground as Iron Man hovers close to the wobbling monument, repulsors aimed and loaded.

"Game over, boys," Tony proclaims. "Let's call the quinjet over to take the trash out, Hill, we can get started on the-,"

Clean-up, is what Peter was sure he was about to say, but Tony had a bit of a talent when it came to speaking too soon. It was the sun, he thought, peeking out of the sky; perhaps the clouds Thor brought with him had been clearing? It felt almost exactly like a beam of light; getting toasted on the beach just a little too closely, and it happened so fast.

One moment Tony was up in the air, and the next he was falling, falling, and Peter jumped to his feet, launching himself off the ground with his super strength to pad the fall, but he only stumbled, he fell, choking on dusty air and debris that hadn't bothered him in a year...

"TONY!" Rhodey yells into the comms, but he was nowhere near the battle enough to be of use.

Iron Man knocks against the ledge of the subway tracks, the roof of a nearby semi, and finally onto the road with a sickening crunch of gravel. Peter, screams, he thinks, and his voice doesn't echo through the comms, for reasons he will find only later that they had been strangely deactivated, keeping them from FRIDAY's fail-safes. He can't be sure what happens next, but by the time the authorities arrive; the NYPD and the ambulances and the firemen and the truckloads of SHIELD operatives, MODOK was gone, and so was the gun he had been toting.

None of the villains could be found, and Peter couldn't breathe.

Something was wrong.

[bitchinbarzal]

A New Chapter | Mini Minten

The phone call comes in the afternoon, just as Fraser steps into their home after practice. Mama Mints is at the kitchen counter, laptop open, reviewing some reports from her latest game with the Sceptres. She barely looks up when he walks in, but the way he stands frozen in the doorway makes her pause.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, already bracing herself.

Fraser exhales sharply, dropping his bag on the floor “I’ve been traded”

Her stomach tightens “To where?”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Boston”

The word lands like a brick.

Mama Mints blinks, trying to process “The Bruins?”

Fraser nods, his jaw tight, eyes scanning her face “Just got the call. It’s done”

She stares at him for a moment, and then she does what she always does—she shifts into crisis mode.

“Okay” she breathes, closing her laptop “We’ll figure it out”

But beneath the calm exterior, her heart is breaking.

That night, after dinner, they sit Flynn, Felix, and Fallon down in the living room.

Flynn, is immediately suspicious “Something bad happened” he announces before they even say a word.

Fraser and Mama exchange a glance.

“It’s not bad” Fraser starts carefully “Just… different. I got traded, buddy. To the Boston Bruins”

Felix, gasps dramatically “The brown team?”

Fallon claps her hands “BOS-TON!” she chants, not understanding the gravity of the situation.

Flynn’s face, however, darkens “No”

Mama Mints reaches for his hand, but he jerks away “Flynn” she says softly.

“No, I don’t want to go” he snaps, his voice rising “We live here! Our house is here! My school is here! Miss Cora is here! Dallas is here!”

Mama’s heart clenches. Change has always been difficult for Flynn—any shift in routine, any unexpected turn, can feel like the end of the world to him. And this? This is a massive change.

“We understand this is hard” Fraser says gently “But we’re all going together”

Flynn shakes his head, fists clenched “I don’t want to go!”

Felix looks worriedly between his brother and parents. Fallon keeps singing “Bos-ton, Bos-ton” under her breath.

Mama shifts closer to Flynn, lowering her voice to a soothing tone “I know you don’t want to, lovebug. It’s going to be a big change, but I promise we’ll make it feel like home.”

Flynn squeezes his eyes shut “It’s not home if Dally isn’t there”

Fallon mumbles from her chair “No Dally?”

Fraser swallows hard “You can still call and FaceTime her all the time, bud. And visit”

“But it’s not the same!” Flynn snaps, his voice thick with frustration “I don’t want a new school! I don’t want a new team! I don’t want new anything!”

Mama rubs his back in slow circles “I know”

Flynn storms off to his room before they can say anything else. The slam of his door makes Felix flinch. Fallon stops singing.

Fraser exhales heavily, rubbing his hands down his face “That went well.”

Mama leans into him, closing her eyes “It’s going to take time.”

The Knies family finds out when Fraser texts Matthew a simple message:

I got traded to Boston.

Within seconds, Delilah is calling Mama.

“You’ve got to be kidding me”

Mama Mints barely has time to say hello before Delilah is ranting “Boston? Are they serious?!”

Mama sighs “I wish I was joking”

“I hate this” Delilah says immediately “I hate it so much”

“Tell me about it”

In the background, Dallas’s voice pipes up “Mama, why are you yelling?”

Delilah freezes. Then she turns, her face doing that thing where she tries to look normal but is actually very bad at hiding stuff. “Uh…” She glances at her phone, then back at Dallas.

Dallas narrows her eyes.

“Tell me right now.”

Delilah sighs, crouching down “Baby… Flynn has to move to Boston”

Silence.

Dallas stares at her like she just said the world is ending. Which, in Dallas’s opinion, it absolutely is.

Her fingers tighten around her drawing “No.”

Delilah sighs “I know it’s hard—”

“NO!” Dallas shouts, her whole body going hot with anger “HE CAN’T!”

Delilah reaches for her, but Dallas dodges, running across the room “You’re lying! Flynn wouldn’t move!”

“He didn’t choose to, baby,” Delilah says gently. “His daddy got traded—”

“I DON’T CARE!” Dallas throws her drawing onto the floor, chest heaving “He’s my best friend!”

Tears blur her vision.

Her fists clench.

Her face is hot, and her heart is boiling, and she doesn’t know how to fix this.

Delilah sighs, moving slower this time “I know, sweet girl.”

“NO, YOU DON’T!” Dallas sobs “You don’t understand! I don’t want a new best friend! I want Flynn!”

She stomps her foot, then does it again, like that will make the whole thing go away.

Delilah pulls her close, and Dallas shoves at her chest—but her mama doesn’t let go.

Instead, she strokes her hair, whispering softly, “I know, baby. I know.”

Dallas hiccups, her breath coming in sharp gasps “I’ll never see him again!”

“That’s not true, sweetheart,” Delilah soothes “You’ll FaceTime all the time, and you’ll visit, and—”

“It won’t be the same!”

Her mama doesn’t argue.

She just holds her while she cries.

And cries.

And cries.

That night, Dallas refuses to eat dinner. She refuses to brush her teeth. She refuses to put on her pajamas.

She curls up in bed, grumpy, holding Flynn’s lego man in her fist.

She’s still sniffling when her dad walks in “Hey, sweetheart”

Dallas doesn’t answer.

Matthew sits on the edge of her bed, rubbing her back “I know you’re mad” he says softly.

Dallas squeezes her eyes shut “I’m furious daddy”

Her dad huffs a small laugh “I can tell”

They sit in silence for a bit.

Then, in a whisper, Dallas mumbles, “What if he forgets me?”

Matthew’s chest aches. He pulls her closer, kissing the top of her head “That won’t happen, baby. I promise”

Dallas sniffles “How do you know?”

Her dad nudges her “Because you’re impossible to forget”

Dallas buries her face in his sweatshirt.

The night before they leave, Dallas and Flynn sit on the front steps of the Knies house, their knees touching.

Dallas picks at the hem of her pink sweatshirt, sniffling “I don’t want you to go”

Flynn stares at the ground, his whole body rigid “I don’t want to go.”

Dallas frowns “Can’t you tell them no?”

Flynn shrugs “I tried”

Dallas wipes her nose with her sleeve “Mama says we can FaceTime every day. And visit. And—and maybe I can come see you play hockey when you get big!”

Flynn’s jaw tightens “But it’s not the same.”

Dallas grabs his hand in both of hers “We’re still best friends, Flynn.”

He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he squeezes her hand so tight it almost hurts, and neither of them lets go.

The move is chaos.

Flynn refuses to help pack. He keeps unpacking boxes Fraser has already taped shut. He won’t eat dinner the night before they leave.

And then, at the airport, he reaches his breaking point.

“I hate Boston!” he shouts, right there in the terminal. People turn to stare, but Mama doesn’t care.

Fraser crouches down to his level “I know you’re upset, bud—”

“I hate it!” Flynn’s voice is high-pitched and shaking “I don’t want to go! I want to stay here forever!”

Tears spill down his cheeks, his breaths coming too fast.

Mama kneels beside him, keeping her voice soft “Baby, I know. I know it’s hard. But I promise, we’ll make Boston feel like home”

Flynn shakes his head furiously “It’s not home!”

Fraser runs a hand through his hair, his expression torn “What do you need, bud?”

Flynn doesn’t answer. He just cries.

Mama Mints pulls him into her lap, cradling him like she did when he was a baby “Breathe with me, lovebug. Deep breath in…”

Flynn gasps, his whole body trembling.

“Good. Now out”

It takes a few tries, but eventually, he hiccups his way through it, his arms wrapped around her neck like a lifeline.

They don’t rush him.

They don’t tell him to stop crying.

They just hold him until he’s ready.

As they board the plane, Flynn clutches Mama’s hand. His face is still puffy, but he’s calmer now.

“Can I talk to Dallas when we get there?” he asks quietly.

“Of course, lovebug” Mama promises, squeezing his hand “Whenever you want”

Flynn swallows. Then nods.

Boston waits for them.

[akiratronixetf2]

[ TF2 ocs ] Vers. Major Arcana

Flynn - The Fool

“He charges ahead with no plan, stumbles with a smile, and turns every fall into flight.”

Adelaide – The Magician

“Where logic ends, her madness begins… and miracles erupt.”

Polina – The High Priestess

“Silent as ice, sharp as truth. She knows… but will never tell.”

Eu-Meh – The Empress

“She whispers, heals, commands — queen of a realm of needles and piercing gazes.”

Anahori – The Emperor

“An iron fist, a loyal heart: she rules as a protector, strikes as a general.”

Yannish – The Hierophant

“Guardian of peace and tradition, he speaks little but teaches everything.”

Tara & Christopher – The Lovers

“She is chaos, he is balance. Their love is alchemy — precise and explosive.”

TRQ & ORANG — The Chariot

"Relentless drive, iron will — nothing stops the Chariot on its path to domination."

Raina – Strength

“She creates violently, destroys passionately. Strength in its freest form.”

Dylan – The Hermit

“He avoids the spotlight, but sees everything. Alone by defense, loyal by choice.”

Karen – Wheel of Fortune

“Lucky today, disastrous tomorrow. She's the one turning the cards — not you.”

Ronnin – Justice

“He strikes without flinching. Not to punish — to restore balance.”

Cryo – The Hanged Man

“Suspended between ice and fire, he sees the world upside down… and hits where no one’s looking.”

Satsuki – Death

“Cold, determined, inevitable. She only destroys to rebuild.”

Campbell – Temperance

“In a world of excess, he distills balance — through blade, patience, and loyalty.”

Redhook — The Devil

"Bound by desire, ruled by control — Redhook tempts, and the world obeys."

Bluejack — The Tower

"Everything you built will fall — Bluejack strikes where it hurts most."

Chanda – The Star

“When everything collapses, she remains the fixed point. The map. The hope.”

Julien – The Moon

“Between charm and illusion, he guides through the fog… or loses you there with grace.”

Samuel – The Sun

“Shy about his brilliance, yet he lights up others — even when he doesn’t realize it.”

GRN, YWL, PRP — Judgement

"The past will rise, the truth revealed — under Judgement, none are innocent."

Mann Co. — The World

"The end and the beginning, all roads lead to Mann Co — the World is its playground."

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: And we’ve got a question from Jill! “Do NOT worry, this is definitely not a fan idea that's usable!” IAN FLYNN: That makes me nervous. KYLE: I mean, I think they’re right, but… [continuing to read] “I have a headcanon that in the future, swear words kinda lost their meaning and filtered into normal speech and are no longer offensive, so in present time Silver is going round swearing like crazy using the foulest words in his conversations but obviously has no idea what he’s doing. How do his friends react? Who’s going to tell him? Who finds it funny? More importantly, how does Vanilla react to him dropping the F-bomb in front of Cream?”

IAN: [chuckling] KYLE: [laughs] Yeah, I don’t think you can use that one, Ian. IAN: True enough, true enough. I think most folks would be a trifle taken aback, because they are… generally nice and genteel people. I mean, even Eggman would be slightly flustered— he- he thinks himself a gentleman. KYLE: Weird. IAN: [as Eggman] “What language do you use, young man?!” Sonic would think it’s funny. KYLE: [laughs] IAN: Like, maybe the first F-bomb would kinda catch him off guard, and then he realizes that Silver doesn’t mean it that way, it’s just part of his personal lexicon. And he’s just like, [snort] “Alright buddy! You do you, alright!” KYLE: [laughing] He’s not gonna stop him! IAN: [as other character] “Are you gonna tell him to stop?” [as Sonic] “Noooo.”  KYLE: [laughs] IAN: Uh, Knuckles doesn’t flinch ‘cause, y’know, he’s lived alone his whole life, he doesn’t know those words. KYLE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. IAN: If anything, he’s learning a new dialect! KYLE: [giggles] Uh, how does Knuckles know any words? IAN: That is a question we’re not gonna answer. Anyway— KYLE: Oh, okay. IAN: And Vanilla… mmm, she’s just gonna punt Silver back to the future. KYLE: [cackles] IAN: When that shoe reaches 88 miles per hour, you’re gonna see some serious shit! KYLE: [laughs]

—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!

[invisibleraven]

"I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so." for my favourite chaos duo Willie and Flynn please and thank you?

"Are you sure it's cool for me to be back here?" Flynn asked as they traversed the labyrinth that was the backstage of the HGC.

"Yeah it's fine, it's not a show day or anything," Willie assured her. "Plus this is where all the costumes are kept."

"And you like, triple checked with Caleb that I could borrow some for this presentation?"

Willie rolled his eyes, never really getting why the gang were so terrified of his dad-he was just a quirky flamboyant magician, not an evil megalomaniac. "Yes, plus Marjorie, who is the costume coordinator, who said it was fine as long as you keep them clean and in pristine condition."

"You're the best," Flynn stated as she brought him in for a sideways hug. "I owe you like, so many coffees."

Willie hugged her back, squeezing her tight before letting go. "Least I could do after you filmed my skate routine. Hopefully I hear back soon about the competition."

Soon enough they found the wardrobe room, and Flynn was introduced to Marjorie who beamed. "Ooh, she's stylish! I have some really fun pieces that will look amazing on her!"

"Cool. I'm going to go check on Dante's new act if you're okay?" Willie asked, and at Flynn's nod, turned to go. "Have fun playing dress up!"

Flynn did have fun, so much so that time flew by and it was getting close to supper-and Carrie would kill her if she was late again. But Willie was nowhere in sight, and so she hefted her few garment bags up and went in search of him.

However he found her first, smiling and waving. "Have fun?"

Flynn looked him and blanched. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a shrug.

"I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so."

Willie looked down and shook his head. "Dante really needs to work on his aim. Then, without flinching, he pulled the knife out, laying it down on the nearby table. "You ready to go?"

"Willie you just got stabbed! You need to go to the hospital!" Flynn shrieked. "You could start bleeding out any moment! How are you not freaking out?"

Willie held up a hand, helping guide her breathing back to normal-he'd had enough practice with Alex over the years. "Flynnie, hun, I'm fine, really." He then showed her the knife-and there was no blood.

"Are you a ghost?" she asked.

Willie chuckled. "One day maybe, then I can break into celebrities pools to skate. But no." Then he lift the leg of his shorts, showing her were his prosthetic joined to the rest of his body. "It's not a real leg."

"It sure looks real," Flynn said.

"Yeah. Caleb paid for the best," Willie replied, helping her up. "Though I'm sure he's not going to be happy about the big honking hole in it."

"Can I ask..."

"What happened?" Willie finished for her, taking half her bags. "Car accident when I was kid, long before Caleb took me in. Lucky I only lost the leg out of it honestly, but it did make it harder to get adopted. They got me a fake one that was okay for a bit, and I was fine with it. But Caleb wanted my life to be as easy as possible after the hell that was my childhood. So he got me this."

"Does everyone know?"

"I mean, Alex does, and he's a gossipy bitch," Willie joked. "I don't like, hide it or anything, I just don't advertise it. So if people know, cool. If not, that's cool too. I just...don't want anyone to look at me differently because of it you know?"

"I get that," Flynn replied, brushing her braids back so he could see the small device in her ear. "Born this way, but I adapted, and my parents made sure I could hear as much as I can, but they also learned sign and fought to make sure my teachers did too until I got the good implants."

"Sweet," Willie replied, offering her a fist bump. "Now, let's hit the road, as I think we have a double date to get to."

Flynn grinned, then stopped as they passed a first aid kit, wrapping Willie's leg in gauze. "Until you can get it fixed, no one will ask questions or freak out."

"Smart."

"I have my moments."

Willie hummed, then paused in thought. "We're not telling Alex I got stabbed right?"

Flynn just laughed, and shook her head. But hoped Willie knew that Alex would be the least of his problems if they were still doing the big family dinner at the Molinas the next day. "Maybe wear pants in front of Tia."

Willie blanched, then joined her in laughter. "See, told you that you were smart."

"Smart enough not to get stabbed anyways," she replied, sliding into the car. "What exactly is this new act anyways?"

"Well you see Dante saw this really cool TikTok..."

[msshadowqueen]

Ranking the top 10 most pathetic SJM men

10: Ithan Holstrom Come on, if you didn't think him simping for Bryce after knowing her for like 5 seconds was pathetic then idk what is. Also, him being mad about the Fendyr heir being enslaved and stealing fire sprites for revenge will never not be hilarious

9: Fenrys Moonbeam Bro was so desperate to escape Maeve that he almost killed himself. Then he had that "You'd rather my queen die than your king" line. Like bro is Aelin's dog at this point.

8. Eris Vanserra Thanks to @kateduchessofdolittle for making me see how pathetic Eris is.

-Fiancee goes to *great lengths* to get out their engagement. After all that, bro still bailed her out by dealing with her father Keir in ACOSF

- Got to be a passive little bitch to monster father

- seems to be a surrogate father to the *worst* people

- he's giving mama's boy

- his allies taunt him with another engagement and she laughs in his face too

At least he has his dogs.

7. Hunt Athalar Not sure how to explain this one. It's just the *vibes*

6. Tarquin Poor Tarquin. I felt so bad for him during that Feyre-Tarquin scene in ACOMAF (one of these days I shall write the Feyquin fanfic and rectify Feyre's mistakes here).

5. Ruhn Danaan You may be surprised Ruhn is so high up on this list. But bro, Hypaxia duped him so badly. Also, he was so desperate to get back in his sister Bryce's good books. Here are just a few examples from the book:

Ruhn bared his teeth at Maximus as the glowering vamp headed toward the golden steps. “Riso called me a few minutes ago and said you were here. With that fucking creep.” “Excuse me?” Her voice sharpened. It had nothing to do with the fact that she highly doubted the diplomatic club owner had used those terms. Riso was more the type to say, She’s with someone who might cause the dancing to cease. Which would have been Riso’s idea of Hel. Ruhn said, “Riso can’t risk tossing Tertian to the curb—he implied the prick was being handsy and you needed backup.” A purely predatory gleam entered her brother’s eyes. “Don’t you know what Tertian’s father does?” She grinned, and knew it didn’t reach her eyes. None of her smiles did these days. “I do,” she said sweetly. Ruhn shook his head in disgust. Bryce leaned forward to grab her drink, each movement controlled—if only to keep from taking the water and throwing it in his face. “Shouldn’t you be home?” Ruhn asked. “It’s a weekday. You’ve got work in six hours.” “Thanks, Mom,” she said.

She just opened the door. “If you hear anything about the Viper Queen, call me.” Ruhn stiffened, his heart thundering. “Do not provoke her.” “Bye, Ruhn.” He was desperate enough that he said, “I’ll go with you to—” “Bye.”

She flinched as Ruhn said at her ear, “You don’t need to see this.” This was another murder. Another body. Another year. A medwitch even knelt before the body, a wand buzzing with firstlight in her hands, trying to piece the corpse—the girl—back together. Ruhn tugged her away, toward the screen and open air beyond— The movement shook her loose. Snapped the droning in her ears. She yanked her body free from his grip, not caring if anyone else saw, not caring that he, as head of the Fae Aux units, had the right to be here. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Ruhn’s mouth tightened. But he looked over her shoulder to Hunt. “You’re an asshole.”

Ruhn was in the apartment lobby when Fury dropped her off. Tharion left them at the docks, saying he was going to help haul in the seized synth shipment, and Fury departed fast enough that Bryce knew she was heading out to make sure the Viper Queen didn’t abscond with any of it, either. Ruhn said nothing as they rode the elevator. But she knew Fury had told him. Summoned him here. Her friend had been messaging someone on the walk back from the docks. And she’d spied Flynn and Declan standing guard on the rooftops of her block, armed with their long-range rifles. Her brother didn’t speak until they were in the apartment, the place dark and hollow and foreign. Every piece of clothing and gear belonging to Hunt was like an asp, ready to strike. That bloodstain on the couch was the worst of all. Bryce made it halfway across the great room before she puked all over the carpet. Ruhn was instantly there, his arms and shadows around her. She could feel her sobs, hear them, but they were distant. The entire world was distant as Ruhn picked her up and carried her to the couch, keeping away from that spot where she’d yielded herself entirely to Hunt. But he made no comment about the bloodstain or any lingering scent. 4. Lucien Vanserra (or Spell-Cleaver? Vanserra sounds better)

Ah, Lucien, Lucien, Lucien. My poor baby just wants somebody to marry him. Does it get any more pathetic than "I'm a mated male now?" My man prepares for rejection every holiday without fail. He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. 3. Chaol Westfall I don't think many people remember Lithaen, but Chaol was in love with her and she fucked Dorian's cousin instead. Also there was this:

Babe, ily but wtf. You ran into a different fucking dimension to save your ex-girlfriend's DOG??? Talk about pathetic. 2. Lorcan Salvaterre Bro abandoned the queen he served more loyally than any of the rest of the cadre the moment a tiny little human with witch blood showed a little cleavage and bossed him around. Bro wanted to be someone's bitch SO BAD. He RIPPED his shirts up for her periods even after she refused to even speak with him and said she hopes he's miserable and spends the rest of his life alone (and threatened to gut Rowan and Gavriel if they ever told her it was him). He swore a blood oath to his greatest enemy just to protect her and lost the will to live when she called him a monster. Absolutely fucking pathetic and we love him for it. 1. Tamlin It was a close fight to first, but nobody can beat Tamlin in the pathetic category. For one, of all the love interests we have seen, he is in possession of the least rizz. Negative rizz, actually. Lucien actually roasted him so badly for his negative rizz, and Lucien personally backed off so Tamlin and his negative rizz could rizz up Feyre. Bro sacrificed all of PRYTHIAN to keep Feyre safe, bartered with his enemy to get her back, only to have her destroy his court. Even after that, he saved her life at the Hybern camp and revived her mate. And unlike the others above, he didn't get the girl, and probably won't get any girl, actually. We could always put him up for adoption and one of the members of the fandom can take him? Maybe??? Maybe @kateduchessofdolittle will take him.

[onlygenxhere]

"With all due respect, which is none." – Principle Lessa

She saw him as soon as he came in the office. Saw him wave away Helen, her severely underpaid front desk receptionist, as she tried to stop him before he barged into her office holding up his phone like it was exhibit A in a criminal trial.

Honestly, she should have seen this coming since seven o’clock this morning when she stopped Willie and Flynn from “decorating” the lunchroom bulletin board with Willie’s latest artwork depicting what they thought of standardized testing.

Or at eight o’clock when she caught Julie and Luke NOT practicing in one of the music rooms.

Or at eight thirty when she checked behind the school to shoo in the smokers and found not only the usuals, Bobby and Alex, but also Reggie, Kayla and this asshole’s daughter. None of the last three actually smoking, but still, late for class again.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Trevor Wilson exclaimed heatedly as he let her door slam shut behind him.

One one thousand, two one thousand. “What seems to be the problem Mr. Wilson?”

“Why isn’t my daughter, or her band, listed as preforming in the spring talent show!? There are always college scouts in attendance, and she needs to be featured!”

“Well, Mr. Wilson, that was your daughter’s decision.” She calmly replied.

“What!?” He gaped at her. “My Carrie would never miss out on this kind of opportunity! This is just some bias against me for being who I am.” He put his hands on her desk and leaned toward her aggressively. “I can assure you I don’t have any sway with UCLA or Berkeley and to cut her out of the performance because you think I do is cruel!”

How dare this entitled prick accuse her or the school of doing anything but supporting these children, including children with ignorant fathers.

“Mr. Wilson.” She stood and leaned on her hands toward him. “With all do respect, which is none.” He flinched at her tone standing back up, away from her. “If you had bothered to talk to Miss Wilson before you came in here to yell at me you would know that one of her band members broke her foot last month and rather than preform without her, she and Miss Taylor have been working with their student advisor Mrs. Harrison organizing and planning the talent show. It’s a huge responsibility and quite frankly I have been extremely proud of her hard work these last few weeks and told her just yesterday I would personally write a letter of recommendation to any university she wanted explaining her part in the showcase.”  

“Oh.” He dropped his eyes, taking another step back. “Um, ok then.” She watched as he seemed to pull his bravo back on like a jacket. “A letter of recommendation from you will be fine, under the circumstances.”

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes and reply with, ‘you think?’. She nodded and sat back down, “If that was all Mr. Wilson.” She dropped her eyes to her desk and gathered some random papers in front of her refraining from actually telling him to get out. “I have a school to run.”

“Yes, yes, well.” He stuttered. She could have sworn she heard him open his mouth again to say something but when she glanced up all she saw was the door closing behind him.

She waited till he was all the way out of the office before picking up the phone. “Harrison, we’re gonna need a full pitcher of margaritas tonight at the planning meeting.”

“What’s happened now?” She sighed.

“Trevor Wilson.”

“Say no more.” She snickered. “I’ll have the drinks chilled and the chips and dip ready when you get there.”

“Don’t tell the others.” She whispered. “But you’re my favorite.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She could almost see Harrison shaking her head. “Get back to principling. It’s not even lunch time yet.”

“Don’t remind me.” She sighed. “Good luck with the seniors this afternoon.”

“We may need two pitchers tonight.”

She laughed as they both hung up without saying goodbye. They rarely did. On days like today, with the Trevor Wilson’s of the world trying to make her feel like she wasn’t enough for these kids one phone call to her best friend was all she needed to get her head back on straight.

The sound of a banjo echoing through the halls pulled her out of her thoughts and she shook her head and sighed pressing the intercom on her desk. “Helen, would you step out in the hall and tell Mr. Peters he needs to take that to a music room please.”

She laughed. “Sure you don’t want him to just come in here and play?”

Principle Lessa laughed. Helen knew she had a soft spot for country music and Reggie. “Wish I could but I actually do have some work to do.”

It wasn’t an easy job, being the Principle of a Arts focused High School, but she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.  

[doriansbutt]

flynn unwell starter >:)))) 🫵 "You haven't eaten, have you?"

give me the veilguard snippets right MEOW

ratttttt babyyyyy thanks! 💚 this got long lol sorry for format, posting from my phone ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

—————

“Ugh, Lace…we’ve been at this all day…can we just stop, please?” Flynn rolls his shoulders and sighs, running his fingers through his messy hair and grunting in frustration when they tangle in it.

“Okay, fine. I’m sure that’ll be enough to give Emmrich some more to study…” Lace agrees, stepping away and grabbing a drink. “You sure you’re okay?” They’d been trying to help get Harding more used to her new magic in…heated situations, per some experimentation notes from Emmrich. Flynn’s been having a rough go of things today, however.

“Ugh…” Flynn grumbles. “I’m fine. I’m gonna go…ugh, tell Emmrich, I guess.” He’d much rather just go sleep, but Emmrich needs to examine Flynn and as much as he loves pushing the necromancer’s buttons, Flynn is in no mood to deal with how butthurt he’ll be later if he puts this off.

“Right. Okay. Meet for dinner later?” Harding asks, offering Flynn a tentative smile as though she can sense his increasingly foul mood—which is highly likely. They’ve known each other long enough.

“Yeah. Love you.” Flynn blows her a kiss as he leaves, ignoring the tightness in his stomach as she mentions food.

The walk to Emmrich’s room feels longer than ever, but he welcomes the coolness of the marble table as soon as he takes a seat. The mage’s hand on his back makes him flinch first, but he relaxes into the touch after a moment.

“So, tell me, Rook: how have you been reacting to her touch today?” Emmrich asks as he begins his examination.

“Not great,” Flynn answers simply.

“Mmhmm,” Emmrich hums in thought. “Would you care to elaborate, please? I need to know if I am to help you two through this. I’m speaking as your physician, of course, not as your friend. Your privacy and dignity are of utmost importance to me.”

Flynn only barely holds back a snort at the word friend, mood turning more sour the more time he spends in here being touched and prodded. “I passed out.”

“Oh, dear. How many times?”

Flynn shrugs. “I don’t know. A bunch. A lot. Many?”

“Rook…” Emmrich sounds apologetic, sympathizing with him and somehow that feels worse. He continues his examination, as gentle as always, and Flynn’s skin tingles against the low level of magic. “Now, I need you to breathe along with me, if you would.”

Flynn does as instructed, eager to get this over with as soon as possible. Emmrich’s muttering to himself begins to fade into the background as he breathes, his eyes fluttering closed…

“Rook?! Can you hear me?”

Flynn opens his eyes, surprised to see Emmrich’s startled and concerned face above him, and it’s then that he realizes he’s been laid down on the floor. “W-what? What…happened?”

Emmrich doesn’t answer right away, instead focusing on Flynn’s breathing and heartbeat. “I’d thought you had simply fallen asleep, but…well, it seems you lost consciousness again.”

“Ugh…” Flynn groans, trying to fight against Emmrich’s hands keeping him down and giving up eventually, laying flat on his back on the cool stone floor.

“Tell me, Rook….you haven’t eaten, have you?” Emmrich asks as though he knows the answer already.

Flynn sighs. Then sighs again. Just gathering the energy to reply and be lectured on ‘proper eating habits’ and ‘taking care of himself’. “No. Wasn’t hungry.”

“Ah. I’d sensed so. Well, I don’t need to tell you the importance of keeping a proper diet, I gather?”

Flynn shakes his head, still laying flat on the floor. “Nope. Lace and I’ll get dinner soon. I’ll eat then…” Truthfully, he’s still not feeling hungry, especially after the wringer he put himself through earlier with Harding’s magic… “if I promise to eat something, can I go?”

“Oh, of course. I wasn’t going to hold you hostage,” Emmrich chuckles, motioning to the door. “Take care of yourself, Rook. And enjoy dinner.”