#wanna put them in a jar and study them

[stillaclownlol]

Why is he like this /pos

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

How do you think Astarion and Remmick would react to meeting each other??

They would get along like oil and water.

Remmick and Astarion represent completely different things with their vampirism.

Remmick is, in a lot of ways, like Cazador even if he isn't as overtly abusive

He has a hive link to his "family" and ultimately controls what they do the same way Cazador strives to exert control over his "children"

Astarion's whole journey is finding his own free will and escaping Cazador's abuse and control over his mind and body

Astarion would take one look at Remmick and his pleas for "family" and have his hackles up, hissing like an angry cat

Remmick meanwhile would see Astarion as another lost soul

Maybe he can't control him like others he's turned, but he's desperate enough for connection that he'll take what he can get

That being said, since Astarion isn't a part of the hive mind and does not have the potential to be, I can see Remmick just deciding to kill Astarion if he proved to be too much trouble

And even if we look past all of that, the things that make them alike are also the things that would rub, at least Astarion, the wrong way

Remmick is, let's face it, a very messy eater and while Astarion can relish in the blood, I can see him turning his nose up at Remmick's habits

Astarion also puts on this air of swagger and confidence that he does not feel inside

Meanwhile Remmick is an absolute freak loser, but doesn't seem to think of himself as that at all bringing his own kind of charisma that directly opposes Astarion's

I can see it more as a one sided dislike from Astarion's side while Remmick thinks he can maybe get Astarion to see his way of things, and if he can't, well, he's be around long enough that dealing with another vampire nearly a millennial younger than him shouldn't be an issue

Let's Have a Sleepover

[wienners]

its funny that the entire tag of habit/vinny is like "this is an abusive basically proship why do people like it :/" when 1. theyre both unrelated adults and 2. their dynamics just this

(art by @punkitt-is-here )

[caffeiiine]

wtf does lost in the sauce mean

[jordanli-dribbles]

Made of Glass

Jordan Li x Fem!Reader | 2.6k words

Prompt #3: You think I’m weak because I’m not like you. Synopsis: They are a supe, you are merely human.

You and Jordan are from entirely different worlds. They are a supe, ranked number two and you are merely a normal human. Currently, a barista working at Jitter Bean on the GodU campus. As you pull shots of espresso and froth milk, you're also juggling your studies at the local normal university. Your days are filled with textbooks and coffee beans, study groups and latte art. This is your world, your routine, and you wouldn't trade it for anything else. You've come to love your life and routine, especially after meeting Jordan.

When you first started dating, you noticed a certain hesitation in their behavior. It seemed as if they were always holding back, afraid of causing you harm. They were exceedingly gentle with you, treating you with a delicacy as if you were a fragile piece of glass that could shatter at the slightest mishandling. Their actions and touch were calculated and cautious, reflecting their love for you. Yet, it pained you to see how much thought and effort they put into the smallest things in order to keep you safe.

Every action they took seems to be for your protection. They open doors for you, not merely out of courtesy, but out of a deep-seated need to shield you from the world. They open jars for you, seeing an unnecessary risk in a simple task. They prevent you from doing anything they deem dangerous, their definition of 'danger' being far broader than yours. You weren’t the only human on campus but the few incidence with supe and human have left a sour taste for Jordan. Their overprotectiveness only growing.

If someone hugged you a bit too tightly, they immediately step in, serving as your personal protector, reprimanding the 'offender' for their thoughtlessness. If someone sneezes, they ensure the person stays a safe distance away, as if a mere sneeze could shatter you.

While you love them, their constant vigilance can feel like a cage. Their kindness, while well-intended, begins to blanket you, smothering your independence and creating a sense of claustrophobia. But you see the love in their eyes, a love that is as deep as the ocean, as vast as the sky. It's a love that is genuine and caring, a love that sees you as the most precious thing in the world. Every time they look at you, their eyes hold a promise to protect you, to cherish you.

So, you tolerate their overprotectiveness. You understand where it's coming from. You see the fear ingrained in their actions, the fear of losing you. And maybe, just maybe, you can help them see that you're stronger than they think.

It was just like any other day. You were sitting by the Polarity’s statue waiting for Jordan to finish their office hours scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Suddenly, you saw Andre zoom past you on a flashy new electric scooter at a speed that was definitely unsafe.

"Dude, is that new?" You couldn't help but call out, your smile wide and your curiosity piqued as the scooter gleaming under the sun. Hearing your shout, he quickly turned back around, heading towards where you were now standing. The scooter stopping with a dramatic screech that stirred up dust around your feet.

"Yeah, you like it? It's a new toy from dad," Andre replied, his voice full of pride. He dismounted with a youthful spring in his step, leaving the scooter to stand on its own. It hummed softly, like a futuristic machine out of a sci-fi movie, this wasn’t a standard electric scooter. You found yourself drawn to it, your eyes scanning over its sleek design, the fancy built-in gadgets, and the vibrant neon color that seemed to pulsate with life.

Wandering closer, you circled the scooter, your fingertips hovering just above the surface as if afraid to touch. You were intrigued, the childlike wonder in your eyes evident.

Seeing your interest, Andre offered, "Wanna give it a try?" His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. You looked up at him, a hint of apprehension flickering in your eyes as you glanced from side to side. It was as if you were considering the potential risks and the thrill of the unknown simultaneously.

Andre noticed your hesitation and, with a teasing grin, he nudged you gently. "Oh come on! Live a little. It’s easy, I'll show you how." His words were a challenge, an invitation to step out of your bubble and embrace the adventure.

After reviewing the basics, Andre tilted the scooter towards you, encouraging you to ride. With a big smile, you stepped onto the scooter and took off. Feeling free, you zoomed past dozens of people, the wind blowing on your face, the thrill coursing through your veins. You laughed, feeling giddy like a child with a new toy. The feeling was exhilarating, it felt like what you imagine flying would be like.

You were so engross in the feeling that you didn't notice the curb and both you and the scooter went flying over the hedges. After tumbling and having the wind knocked out of your lungs, the world spun. Your ears were ringing, and you tasted the metallic tang of blood from your split lip. Despite your body aching, you didn't care, you had never felt so free before.

"Oh shit, are you okay?!" A panicked voice rang out. Looking up, you saw Andre. His eyes were wide, his expression frozen in shock as he stared down at you with concern. Yet all you could do was laugh, lying flat on your back on the grass. He couldn’t help but laugh along with you, his expression softening at the sound of your mirth. The two of you were laughing like idiots, as if you hadn’t just been thrown across the campus.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted your laughter. "What the fuck happen?" Jordan demanded, concern etching their voice as they ran towards you. Their eyes darted over your form, quickly assessing the situation and the extent of your injuries.

"Oh, hey baby!" you greeted them cheerfully, managing to sit up on the grass. Your voice held a tone of delight despite the circumstances. "Andre was just teaching me how to use his new scooter, but the asshole forgot to show me how to brake," you explained, playfully squinting your eyes at Andre in mock anger.

Andre, seemingly unfazed by your comment, flashed you a wide grin. “In my defense I thought that was pretty intuitive!” he declared, shaking his head in a gentle, almost playful manner.

"Apparently not, jerk!" you fired back quickly, laughing at your own clumsiness. You struggled to stand upright, wincing slightly as you felt the fresh bruises forming on your skin. Jordan, immediately reached out to lend a hand. Their touch was gentle, and you appreciated their concern, even though you knew it was fueled by their instinct to protect you, anger and worriedness evident in their eyes.

With Jordan's help, you managed to get on your feet. You took a moment to dust yourself off, brushing away the grass and dirt that clung to your outfit. It was a futile attempt, considering how much you had tumbled, but it made you feel somewhat better. You licked your bottom lip, wiping away the blood from the split, wincing a slight from the pain.

Jordan stood by your side, examining the extent of your injuries until your eyes met with Andre's. There was a brief silence. A small smile tugged at your lips until you both burst into laughter, the sound echoing around you.

“You think this is fucking funny!” Jordan yells shifting, stepping towards Andre clearly pissed off that he was the reason you had gotten hurt. Their voice was harsh, the anger radiating from their body. Andre froze, and took an instinctive step back holding their hands up in front of him, attempting to keep things calm.

“Chill man, it was all in good fun. No harm, no foul.” he replied, taking another step to pick up his scooter off the ground, ignoring Jordan’s angry glare.

“No harm?! She’s fucking bleeding asshole!” Jordan yelled taking another step closer to him. They were beyond mad, you could feel the anger emanating from their body. Seeing the situation escalating, you gently grasped Jordan's arm and tugged, attempting to draw their attention away from Andre.

"Hey, babe," you murmured softly, your tone light and gentle. "I'm okay, I promise. It's just some little scratches and bruises, nothing major." you finished, taking a quick glance down at your injuries.

Jordan didn't respond. Instead, their eyes narrowed, the muscles in their jaw tensing as their teeth ground together. Their expression was cold, dark and their posture rigid, the tension palpable in the air. And Andre did not back down, his own stare turning into a glare.

You tightened your grip on Jordan’s arm, tugging them towards you. You really didn’t want this to escalate into something else. You stepped in front of Jordan, grabbing their chin to turn their gaze down towards you. "I'm okay Jordan," you repeated, emphasizing each word.

Finally, their expression softened as their eyes met yours. There was a mixture of emotions in their eyes. Fear, worry, anger, concern. However, their anger swiftly dissipated when they saw your split lip, their concern for you taking over.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," they finally said, their voice quiet as their hand came down to the small of your back. They began leading you away, but not before shooting Andre a final glare. You gave him an apologetic smile before turning around and allowing Jordan to guide you. They led you back to their dorm, their arm still wrapped around you as they guided you. The entire walk was filled with silence, Jordan's body still tense and rigid, the tension still thick in the air.

Now you sat on the bathroom counter as Jordan cleaned your face with a warm towel. They were avoiding your gaze, their expression hard, their brows furrowed and their lips set in a tight line. The air was heavy, the atmosphere suffocating. You hated the awkwardness, and the fact that they were so upset over something that seemed so minuscule to you.

You sighed and grabbed their wrist, stopping their motions, their eyes finally meeting yours. "Are we just not going to talk about it?" you asked, your tone laced with frustration. They let out a sigh and dropped their gaze, placing the warm towel back on your face, focusing on cleaning your wounds instead.

"Jordan," you pressed, placing your hand on their chest. They looked down at you, their expression conflicted, their gaze a mixture of emotions.

"You could've gotten seriously hurt," they whispered softly. You took a deep sigh, closing your eyes before looking at them. You had been dreading this conversation, but now was a good time of any. You desperately needed to get it off your chest, before you truly suffocated.

“Jordan,” you start softly again, making sure they are looking at you before you continue. “I love you more than words can express, but sometimes you treat me like I am made out of glass. Like any sudden movement might cause me break. You think I’m weak because I’m not like you. But baby, I am human. We get hurt, we bruise, we bleed, and we get back up. Please trust me. Trust that I can take care of myself. That I won't fall apart."

You watched their face fall as you spoke, a mix of hurt and fear clouding their expression. "I know you can take care of myself," they whispered, their tone low, barely audible. "But what if one day you can't? What if one day I'm not around, and you end up hurt or worse?" they continued, their voice cracking, their eyes beginning to glisten. You sighed, and gently place your hand on their cheek, their eyes meeting yours.

"You can't keep me in a bubble, Jordan," you say gently. After a pause, you continue, "I don't need you to protect me from getting hurt. I need you to be there to help me get back up. To support me when I take risks, even if I might fail. I'm not a fragile doll that's going to shatter with a simple breeze. I'm not a damsel who needs constant saving. What I need is for you to believe in me, to trust me to know my own limitations.”

They were silent, their expression conflicted, their emotions heighten. After a long pause, they finally responded, their voice cracking. "I'm scared," they whispered, the admission almost inaudible. They leaned into your touch, their eyes closing, their expression vulnerable.

"I'm scared that I'll lose you. I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and you'll be gone, and it'll be all my fault because I wasn’t there to protect you," they continued, their voice trembling. "I can't lose you."

You felt a pang of guilt for not considering how difficult this must be for them too. This was all new, and their protective instincts were only amplified by the newness. You drew them close, your arms encircling their neck, holding them against you. "You're not going to lose me, Jordan. I'm right here baby, just a little bruised," you tried joked, with a small smile, while tracing gentle pattens behind their neck.

You heard their breathing slow down, and their body relaxed. Their arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly, and they rested their head on your shoulder. You both stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," they mumbled into your shoulder, their voice barely audible. You shook your head slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of their head, squeezing their shoulders gently.

"I know, baby" you said softly, rubbing their back in soothing circles, "And I love how you take care of me, but I just need you to ease up a little."

Their grip on your waist tightened, their arms wrapping tighter around you. "Okay," they replied, their voice a soft whisper. As they pull back, their gaze was tender, their eyes soft. You couldn't help but smile and press a soft kiss to their lips, the gesture a reassurance that everything was okay. They look at you for a moment before speaking, their voice soft and laced with sincerity. "I promise I'll try my best to be less overprotective." They said their thumb softly brushing over your bruise lip.

"Good, because I really want to use that scooter again," you said with a playful grin. They let out a light chuckle the stress melting away from their body, slowly rolling their eyes at your comment. A gentle smile spreading across their lips as they leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"We'll see about that," they replied. You couldn't help but laugh, at least they were trying. You knew it would take time, their overprotectiveness would not disappear overnight, but at least they were willing to try. And despite their overprotectiveness, they always made you feel safe, secure and most of all, loved. For in love, as in life, sometimes it's the cracks on your skin that allow the light to shine through.

This was based on this prompt list which inspired this new wave of inspiration. This also got way longer than I intended.

[distracted-milkshake]

The Jar - Poe Dameron x reader

Warnings: it’s not exactly crack…

Words: some of them probably

Rating: T

Summary: He’s going in the jar.

For @ruegoreos

You’ve seen your husband get his first bits of gray. First around his hairline, then back through his cowlick, till his whole head of dark curls was dotted in wavy shooting stars.

There was no doubt Poe was aging.

And with that age came the stories around his achievements becoming legends. And incidentally, marketable. You had seen more than one child run around with a Resistance fighter helmet, and not an original, but a plastic toy one. Infuriatingly enough likely made by the same companies that sold First Order toys to indoctrinate kids back in the day. Little X-Wing models, too, you had seen people have collections of.

You were never really interested in any of it, your and Poe’s own stories and keepsakes were much more interesting than anything that could be sold to you.

That was till one day something in the market of the town on the little outer rim moon you’ve made home caught your eye. Without thinking, and without haggling the ridiculous price point, you added a medium sized box to your bag, wrapping it and your shopping up and heading home.

Poe was in the study, and the second you got your groceries squared away you made a beeline to his door, box in arm.

He turned to you when you knocked on the frame and raised his hand, crow’s feet squeezing their toes together as he beckoned you into a hug. You had only been gone as hour or so but as soon as you were next to him he buried his face against your ribs and rubbed your back like he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“What’s that you got?” He asked as he pulled back, fiddling with his hearing aid now you were back in the house, tilting his head at the concealed bundle.

You raised your eyebrows to get him excited and pulled the hefty thing out, discarding the old cloth bag you had tied around it.

Poe’s jaw dropped. He stared at it and scoffed, then smiled wider than a sun.

“Wow! Oh wow. They got the nose right!”

“You knew about this?” You asked, almost disappointed, but much more intrigued than anything.

“Yeah, this place reached out a couple months back, and I signed a thing and submitted some pictures. It was really decent of them, considering nothing in the Resistance was ever made intellectual property and my name isn’t even copyrighted. But I said they could go ahead for free, we don’t need any of that attention or compensation.”

“I see. Wish you’d told me!”

“They were having materiel sourcing issues! I didn’t wanna tell you if it wasn’t going to exist, and besides, I didn’t know you liked that kind of stuff.”

“I didn’t really, but…” You shook your head and sat on the edge of Poe’s desk to unbox it.

“Well there goes the collector’s value.” Poe joked as you cut the little plastic bits holding it confined to its frame and let him out.

You had never seen anything like it.

Sculpted hairs, hand stitched clothes you could attest to the accuracy of, creases in his forehead and a damn waterline to each of his eyes? It almost made it worth the very high expense you were going up have to explain to Poe. Later.

Things of the Resistance fighters in general, sure, posters and books of your husband, you’d seen dozens of. But a toy, an action figure made exactly in his likeness with his name on the box and his signature helmet? It was almost too much.

“I’m putting him in the jar.” You said.

“…” Poe said.

“You’re what?” He asked, sure he must’ve had the translator in his aid acting weird again.

“He,” you held up the figurine, rotating him back and forth a little. “Is going in the jar.”

“You don’t mean—”

“I do.” You said with an all too satisfied nod.

The red in his cheeks could’ve made paint.

“You’re ridiculous and disgusting.” He finally managed, scrubbing over his cheek with the top of his palm, voice an octave higher than usual.

“You married me knowing this.”

He sighed.

“I did. I did, and I don’t regret it for a second, but fuck,” he shook his head, turning back in his seat to his pad. “You make me come close to.”

[thatgirlwithasquid]

^me while reading this btw

!!!🌹Thorn and Mr. Flower🌿 tiiime!!!

And boy I will never not be so so enthusiastic about these guyz <333

I touched on the dynamics of their relationship in a previous post on my last account before it was terminated. But seeing as that post is lost at sea now, I'll do a bit of recap on that.

Just to have everything neatly in one post.

And then I gotta remember to save this post in a separate document or something in case something happens to this account...

Anyway, the boyz 🌹🌿

---

So, as I've mentioned previously, I've always pictured Mr. Flower and Thorn's relationship to have extremely rocky beginnings.

We're talking, tons of baggage on both sides.

Trust issues from one end and desperate clinging on the other in the form of big promises and what may or may not be tons of lip service.

Not to mention all the potential secret guarding.

Thorn has some form of charm, sure.

Enough that in the beginning he was able to garner interest from Mr. Flower.

"Sure, maybe we'll see where this goes..."

But as I've said before, my take on Mr. Flower is that he's a very closed off individual.

Getting him to open up is like trying to pry open iron doors with nothing but a couple of toothpicks.

Most people aren't likely to have known anything other than an idealized version of himself. The Mr. Flower he wants you to see.

And that version of Mr. Flower can certainly seem pleasant and easy to talk to, but when exposed to it long enough, it becomes obvious how very surface level it all is, but to Mr. Flower, it's preferable to how he knows he can be.

And if you manage to speak with him with his mask off, then you might find yourself wondering if maybe you prefer the performative version of Mr. Flower.

But that was the idea of course.

Give people a better, more palatable alternative.

There have been very few people who have found the real Mr. Flower tolerable to be around and as such, there have been very few people who have found any reason to stick around.

And that's sort of the expected outcome Mr. Flower has of any potential relationship he gets involved in, whether romantic or platonic or whatever else!

He's learned over the years that it's much easier to just to keep his expectations low and others an arm's length away.

And if anyone gets too close, it's best to retreat before things are liable to become painful.

And if for whatever reason, someone tries to persist when pulling away, it's good to remind that person why they thought to keep a distance in the first place, in whatever manner seems necessary in the moment.

Even if feelings are hurt.

Even if it ends the relationship in that moment.

Better to leave than to be left behind yet again.

"It was doomed to fail anyway..."

This man is walled in on all sides.

And yet despite this, Mr. Flower is plagued by the thinnest rays of troubling thoughts and emotions.

Hopefulness and desire for genuine, lasting companionship appear as annoying cracks in the walls Mr. Flower so carefully built up over the years, and despite the constant reminders why it's best not to leave his miserable fortress of self preservation, he often finds himself with one foot out the front gates far too often.

And that was exactly where Thorn found Mr. Flower, hovering just beyond his gates. Open enough to the world that he began his journey with Mr. Flower with a mask half off.

With a glimpse of a real person behind a carefully crafted persona.

Not enough to tell the whole story, but enough to want to uncover that story. To get the full picture.

How desperately Mr. Flower has tried to slip that mask of his back on as soon as he realizes whats been done.

Unfortunately...

"You should know better sweetheart, your tricks don't work on me."

Because Thorn's already gotten a glimpse, so what on earth is this funny little act you're putting on, Mr. Flower? This isn't the you I remember meeting on that rainy evening.

And while this has ignited the tiny embers of hope in Mr. Flower into a small flame, it's also bewildered and frustrated him.

Because Thorn insists on tugging on the edges of Mr. Flower's mask and unraveling his disguise thread by nervous thread. And it would seem that no amount of pulling away or lashing out is doing anything to dissuade this baffling rose man.

Not for long, at least.

And sure, they get into fights- frustrated back and fourths over each other's characters, and despite Mr. Flower thinking,

"This is it. This time for sure, it has to be. This time he's gone for good..."

Thorn always surprises Mr. Flower when he's the one to come back with an apology. When Thorn assumes he's done something to deserve Mr. Flower's ire. When Thorn goes on to admire those things Mr. Flower tries so hard to keep buried.

"I like that part of you. The real you, and how unapologetically you it is." He says through a toothy grin and an airy chuckle.

And Mr. Flower's stomach twists into knots.

"I love how fiery you are when you're not holding yourself back and I admire the honesty, even if it's a little hard to hear sometimes." Says Thorn.

"And though I wish you'd be just a bit more gentle, I also understand the world hasn't exactly been the most gentle with you."

And as Thorn reaches out to gingerly grab at Mr. Flower's hands, all Mr. Flower can do is swallow back the lump in his throat and watch while Thorn plants a soft kiss on those tense hands of his.

"I wouldn't change a thing about you." He says.

He insists.

"I don't understand you..." Says Mr. Flower, quiet and deadpan as he looks up, searching those half lidded, spiral eyes.

Thorn chuckles again, finding amusement over the concern and confusion on Mr. Flower's face, yet never missing the detail of those fanned out ear petals and how they twitch so enthusiastically every so often.

"It's easier to see the details close up." Thorn says, his thumbs caressing Mr. Flower's hands now. "Let me in and I promise it'll make sense."

A simple request, barely above a whisper and it sends Mr. Flower's heart racing and his mind screaming.

He's flooded with thoughts and emotions pulling him in every which direction.

Does he just let that happen? Or does he run as far and fast as his legs can take him?

He isn't sure, and he's frozen in place while Thorn waits patiently for an answer, until he realizes he may not get one in the moment.

"But-... if you're not ready that's okay. I can wait." Says Thorn now, gently letting those hands go as he takes a step back.

And Mr. Flower has to stamp out that desire to close the gap again.

The problem here is that Thorn is all Mr. Flower has left with in the moment.

Perhaps its not so much a problem as it is a solution?

But the idea of relying so heavily on someone is terrifying to Mr. Flower, especially when he knows so little about them.

And while Thorn continues to insist things will be okay and strives to convince Mr. Flower he can be trusted with the monumental task of getting to really know Mr. Flower.

Some things come up.

Something always comes up.

Time goes on and everytime Mr. Flower is at the threshold of his decision, something new comes to light about Thorn that leaves Mr. Flower second guessing everytime.

And everytime he considers that it might be best to leave this one in the dust with all the others, Thorn tugs Mr. Flower back into the same confusing cycle.

"C'mon, babe. It's not like that!"

"I promise it'll make sense, love just give it time."

"I know it sounds crazy, but..."

"I want to tell you, but...

And Mr. Flower is getting tired.

Tired of the secrets, the excuses the half truths. Tired of being talked up and let down every. single. time.

"You keep telling me to open up when I'm not even sure I've ever known who you are!"

And indeed, how can any man be expected to trust a stranger and to love someone you've hardly met?

And yet Mr. Flower is caught in the thickest part of a thorny bramble patch, unable to leave either by his own indecisiveness or because Thorn simply won't let him.

Because despite all the turmoil and uncertainty, there have been very real moments of that genuine connection Mr. Flower craved for so long.

Or at least, he thought there had been.

It's hard to say, and while Thorn insists that yes, of course they were genuine, it's difficult to take him at his word when he's constantly sneaking off late at night, constantly preoccupied with an old flame and always going off about these grand claims he swears are true, in place of the answers Mr. Flower so consistently pleads for.

"I don't understand you..."

"I know, sweetheart I know. Please give it some more time.

I promise it will all make sense."

A few things are for certain about Thorn that Mr. Flower has come to learn.

One is that he is a very busy and singularly minded man, and two is that there are very few things in the world that will come between Thorn and his many mysterious plans.

And the third, it would seem, is that Mr. Flower is not among the exceptions, no matter how much Thorn insists how important Mr. Flower is to him.

There are things that absolutely need changing, and while there are ways in which I could see the two working things out, they are not Without their trials.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, nobody is coming out unscathed. But sometimes you need to tear things apart in order to build anew.

A lot of Thorn's secretiveness is for valid reasons, though I won't go into too much detail cause I have fics planned- even if they take me YEARS to finish.

I will say, he is genuinely in love with Mr. Flower, and while he's not in the greatest place for him to be able to express it like he wants to, I've always imagined that Mr. Flower has a way of grounding Thorn when he gets all caught up in all his mystery work.

And boy howdy is it work.

But it's all worth it if it means securing a future where he can live in peace with his beloved Mr. Flower.

So long as they can weather the current storm.

The way I've seen it is that Thorn showed up around the time Mr. Flower and Mr. Plant began drifting, and since Mr. Flower doesn't have a lot of actual friends, losing the only one he felt he had was surprisingly hard for Mr. Flower to navigate.

He's been alone so long he thought he'd be fine. But thats the issue, Mr. Flower has been alone so long that he's not equipped with the proper tools for maintaining and fixing proper relationships.

Thorn has been a real conundrum for Mr. Flower on top of it all.

He's been as much of a learning experience in the department of communication as he has been a source of stress.

He's been an unlikely steadying hand and also another reason for Mr. Flower to be cautious.

He's heard and learned more about Thorn from others than he's ever learned from Thorn himself, except that Thorn is one large, walking, frustrating mystery to Mr. Flower.

There is definitely more to Thorn than meets the eye and as things progress and Mr. Flower is faced with terrifying revelations about Mr. Plant, Mr. Flower becomes more and more terrified about the things Thorn could actively be hiding.

They are just two performers on separate stages.

And they need to start learning how to get their act together because there's a lot more uncertainty and terrors on the horizon for these two.

----

And also @thatgirlwithasquid since you said you'd be interested in the read. ; v;

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Paper Rings 📄

You've ordered: chocolate marble ice cream! enjoy!

"I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead."

Evan Rosier x childhood bf! reader | word count: 1,084 words

Summary: from paper rings to promise rings 📄

Warnings: none! (kinda messy since i wrote it all in one sitting)

Note: first fic of 2025! 🌟 tried my hand at writing for someone other than regulus. in my mind, evan is a total lover boy (sorry not sorry-).

You sat in Professor Binns's class, completely bored out of your mind. The time seemed to tick by at an excruciatingly slow pace, your mind numbing from his constant lecturing. Every word of today's History of Magic lesson went in one ear and left straight out the other.

You were jerked out of your little daze when a slip of paper flew onto your desk. You peeked over at the seat next to you, your childhood friend, Evan Rosier giving you a slight nod. You thanked merlin that you two sat in the back, hidden from Binns's prying eyes. You carefully unfolded the slip of paper, reading over its contents.

"i feel like my brains are turning to mush @_@"

You peeked over at the blonde, trying not to laugh as he made a face, pretending to puke. After glancing up to see if Professor Binns was looking, you quickly scribbled something down onto the paper slip, tossing it back.

"i know -_- i'm falling asleep here"

Evan let out a quiet laugh as he read your response, your little written conversation going on for a bit longer.

Evan: "wanna hang out in the slytherin common room after class?"

You: "sure! i'm down :o"

Evan: "oh, also! i have something for you :)"

You: "what is it?? :0"

Just as you were about to pass the paper back to evan, a hand came down to snatch up the slip.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Rosier? It seems my lesson is so boring that you and Mr./ Ms. Y/n are engaging in something else." Professor Binns stated as he crumpled up your written conversation.

"Oh, no sir! I was...just asking them if they wanted to study with me after class." Evan said, a skeptical look in binns's eyes.

"Mhm, yeah. We decided to study in the Slytherin common room sir." you added, giving evan an appreciative look. Luckily, Professor Binns let you two off the hook.

After class was over, you headed over to your dorm, telling Evan you'd meet him at the common room. You threw your bag onto your bed, thinking back to Evan's note from class.

"oh, also! i have something for you :)"

He had something...for you. You felt your heart flutter a bit as you thought of all the things he could possibly give you. But one thing came to mind almost immediately.

A paper ring.

Evan had been making them for you since you two were around 12 years old, the paper jewelry a symbol of your friendship and maybe something more. Most people would probably find it silly now and throw them away. But you...you kept them. You kept every single one in a jar under your bed, putting ring after ring inside.

You fished the jar out from under your bed, turning the glass container in your hands as you admired the rings of all different colors, some even made with patterned paper. You wondered if he'd ever make you more...

Just then, a knock on your dorm door pulled you back to reality. "Who is it?" you asked, the answer making your heart beat a bit faster.

"It's Evan. Can I come in?" You quickly scrambled to hide the jar, placing it back under your bed and letting your duvet cover it up from the side. You fixed yourself up, acting as if you had been getting ready. "Come in!"

Evan stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "What's up? Weren't you in the common room?" you questioned.

"I came to get you. You were taking a bit too long to get there and i got worried." he admitted, shyly looking around your room. Then he saw it: the jar jutting out from beneath the duvet.

"You...you still have these?" Evan asked, walking past you and crouching down next to your bed. Seems like you didn't hide it well enough.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you watched him open up the jar and pull out a few paper rings. "Well...yeah. I mean, my best friend gave them to me." you murmured, taking a step closer to him.

Evan felt himself cringe internally at the words "best friend." Right...you only saw him as your best friend, while he saw you as...

"Y/n....why do you think i gave you all of these paper rings?" Evan asked, eyes trained on the jar. There was a moment of silence between you two. You didn't dare say anything...since you already knew the answer.

"You already know, huh? That I...that I'm in love with you? That I have been since we were kids?" you heard a soft thud as evan set the jar down on your desk, stepping back to give you some space.

You were silent for a while, finally nodding your head. "Yeah...I knew."

"Why? Why didn't you say anything?" Evan asked, now taking a step closer to you. You felt your heart start to beat faster, your hands getting sweaty.

"Because...I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I thought that...if I told you that I liked you too, you'd stop liking me."

Evan's breath hitched, his heart aching at your words. He held your face in his hands, his crystal blue eyes staring into your own.

"Y/n, you could never ruin our friendship. I like you just as you are, friend...and lover alike."

"I old myself that the day I confessed to you, I wouldn't do it with a paper ring." your eyes widened as Evan stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a ring...a real ring.

"Evan-" you uttered, the boy cutting you off.

"Don't worry! It's just a promise ring. I wanted to get something beautiful for the person who means the world to me." Evan admitted, reaching out to take your hand. "May I?"

You felt like crying, every single positive emotion flooding your senses. You nodded your head, giving Evan your hand. He easily slipped the beautiful ring onto your finger, bringing your hand to his lips hand kissing your knuckles.

"I love you, Y/n L/n. I have since we were kids and I always will."

Your heart swelled as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a slow and sweet kiss. You could feel Evan freeze for a second before he eased into it, his hands cupping your cheeks.

The kiss lasted a few more seconds before you two parted, goofy smiles of joy plastered on your faces.

"I love you too, Evan Rosier. Forever and always."📄

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[irellia]

vi is so fucking fascinating to me, I am studying her like a bug in a jar

she was a CHILD putting on her father's gauntlets in spite of the fear gathered in her little body, in spite of just witnessing someone she's known all her life die in a HORRIFIC way (benzo), still she rises, still she says I HAVE TO DO THIS still she takes on men three times her size and fucks them up so bad that silco has to send his shimmered up fucked up monster to try to stop her and STILL she persists, indifferent to the worst happening because she’s survived the worst already. furious and unstoppable and determined to do whatever she has to survive and ensure those she loves survive, no matter the cost.

vi under all that debris, bruised, bleeding, screaming, watching her family die, staring at the monkey head in shock and crying because this can't be happening, they were so close...

sobbing in pain until her father saves her just to watch helpless as he dies protecting her. they were so SO CLOSE to surviving, so close to escaping and everything gets ripped away in a second

vi trapped in that prison cell for years and years on end with the ghosts of her family and her guilt for company, drowning in guilt, wondering if her sister's still alive, no doubt thinking about how she LET her slip right through her fingers

the last thing vander said to her was "take care of powder"

she's let the man who's her FATHER and loves more than anything down.

"whatever happens is on you" / "protect the family" / "take care of powder" .... but she can't, not anymore, she's fucked it up and let everyone down (re "I should have been there for you, for everyone") all she can do is sit in that shitty prison cell, on that freezing floor, hungry, bloody, counting the hours until she can somehow rescue powder

Vi is piercings and tats that no doubt got infected, she's a child becoming a woman too fast, she is a danger-zone high-risk disaster area and won't back down, won't give up.

Vi is soft!! self-sacrificing, protective, supportive. ("You wanna talk about today?", "We've all had bad days, but we learn, and we stick together") brave, SMART, witty. she's got a tongue sharp as her fists and a barbed, delicious sense of humour. she gives people nicknames (cupcake, pow pow, pretty boy) and fights with everything that she's got to protect what she loves!!!! she is her father's daughter!!!

she is idealistic and expects the world to see her reason, look at things through her eyes and wanna make a change ( "This is how things are, how they've always been. I was so stupid to think it could change. / "oil and water that's all there is" )

and yes! vi is not flawless. she's obsessive (re sevika. to her eyes she is the last thing standing between her and silco/getting to silco and saving jinx) and complicated, morally ambivalent because she makes mistakes, flies off the handle like a comet crashing through everything in her way, makes reckless choices because she has to. she is selfish when it comes to jinx and would do anything to keep her safe.

also

look at the way she hugs the people she cares about!!!

[esteemed-excellency]

OC SMASH OR PASS

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

I was tagged by @bardusgate (poll: x) thanks bestie! 💖💖

You all know my blorbo (last portrait by @letters-of-fire)

Name: Hiram Howell Hastings Hargrave

Age: 65 45

Gender: queer

Sexuality: pansexual

🌹 Propaganda for:

Good conversationalist, attentive and polite.

Engaging personality.

Good sense of humour, even if a bit morbid sometimes.

He's always courteous, and knows how to turn small gestures of courtesy into romantic displays.

He's a really good dancer.

Aways pays for everything on dates.

Will play music and read poetry to you.

Will spoil you with gifts.

Soft curls, very clean, loves flowery perfumes.

Throws amazing parties.

🚩 Propaganda against:

[Scandal is increasing...]

He's an incorrigible risk-seeker and he will enable all your destructive habits for fun.

He likes to create problems on purpose when he gets bored. And he gets bored pretty often.

Extensive criminal record.

Will keep offering you dubious beverages.

He can't shut up about The Horrors, he loves The Horrors (this is a good thing if you're A Horror, or a Horrors appreciator).

He can get too intense or too detached without warning.

You will get bad deja-vus if you look in his eyes for too long.

Mirrors bleed around him sometimes.

He's always plotting and scheming. Believe me, you don't want to know his secrets, and you don't want him knowing yours.

I'm tagging some mutuals and everyone else who wants to do this, it would be fun to see more oc polls in the fl fandom! @thunder-threnodies @that-giorgione @the-dye-stained-socialite @thedeafprophet @zeebreezin @viric-dreams @waterlogged-detective @velvetlinedbox @violant-apologia @capn-twitchery

[queenjunothegreat]

Hi!!!!! Hello everyone!!!!!!!! I have more words for you!!!! These ones are about Wilderness-Leo being So Fucking Normal And Heterosexual About His Buff Mysterious Roommate. Get ready for a breathtaking display of hormonal teenage courtship rituals. Ahem. Also! Eleena said I have to include this message in my A/N so here you go

This Wilderness fic is WEIRD because Piper and Leo are normal, but Jason is WILDLY out of character because he's NOT Jason. He's Leo's (who's half in love with the dude) imaginations of what he COULD have been like if he was actually there. He doesn’t have ANY of the earnest kindness that Real Jason has because Leo wouldn’t be able to conceptualize that kind of earnest kindness surviving at Wilderness, much less being directed at him.

Moving on! This was, of course, written for @lost-trio-week so I am happy to share my day six contribution: Unfold Your Paper Heart (And Wear It On Your Sleeve)

“I dunno what it is about him,” Leo sighed, finally dragging his eyes off the other boy. “I’m just drawn to him, I guess. He compels me.” Piper arched her eyebrows. “Do you think he’s hot? You got a crush on him or something?” Leo considered that, and he deliberately didn’t look over at Jason again because he wasn’t really sure how long he was allowed to stare at him before it got weird. Was Jason hot? Well, obviously, and Leo knew it, seeing as he had eyes. But that wasn’t it. Not the extent of it, at least. “No, it’s more like I wanna put him in a glass jar with a stick and some leaves. And maybe pick the jar up every now and then and shake it so I can study him.” “It can never just be ‘I have a crush’ with you, can it?” Piper drawled. “You always gotta say peculiar shit.” *** Leo is trying SO hard to befriend his new roommate. It is not going as well as he'd like Lost Trio Week 2024 - Day Six: Roommates

“I just don’t get him,” Leo seethed, stabbing at what was probably meant to be salsbury steak with his plastic spoon. “He’s just so! You know?”

In response, Piper just huffed and rolled her eyes, clearly already bored of the subject. “Are you talking about Jason? Again?”

“Yes!” Leo finally managed to cut his food in half. Underneath the simultaneously thick and runny gravy, the mystery meat was an odd shade of gray that could have either been beef that was cooked beyond all salvation, or something Leo wasn’t quite ready to really think about just yet. He considered telling one of the school admins that Piper had convinced him to go vegetarian along with her. She was usually stuck with cheese or peanut butter sandwiches because there was no universe in which Wilderness was going to make her a specialized menu, but at least her food was identifiable. He dismissed the thought to focus on the task at hand. “I’ve tried everything to get through to him! I’ve tried inviting him to eat with us, I’ve cracked jokes–”

“Well, there’s your problem.”

“–I’ve even offered some of my candy to him! Nothing works!”

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up on this guy,” Piper scoffed. “He looks like he knows how to play polo.” Her tone was dismissive, but Leo would have needed to be blind to miss the way her eyes lingered on Jason’s broad shoulders before she went back to pushing her over-blanched broccoli around on her plate.

“First off: Your dad owns a plane. You are not allowed to make fun of people for being rich. That’s my job.” Leo told her matter-of-factly before he let his gaze wander over to where Jason was sitting alone, just like always. When he had first shown up a couple weeks before, everyone, especially the girls, had flocked to him, but each and every one of them was met with a hard scowl that sent them packing. At first, Leo had planned on leaving the dude to do his own thing, but three days after Jason’s arrival, the teachers had finally gotten tired of Leo and Piper rooming together. Piper just went back to having their room to herself like she had before Leo had shown up, but Leo had been buddied up with Wilderness’s newest sideshow attraction. Normally, Leo wouldn’t have bothered trying to befriend the guy, he hadn’t with any of his other classmates or any of the many, many roommates he had over the years (Piper obviously didn’t count because she was Piper) but Jason was different.

“I dunno what it is about him,” Leo sighed, finally dragging his eyes off the other boy. “I’m just drawn to him, I guess. He compels me.”

Piper arched her eyebrows. “Do you think he’s hot? You got a crush on him or something?”

Leo considered that, and he deliberately didn’t look over at Jason again because he wasn’t really sure how long he was allowed to stare at him before it got weird. Was Jason hot? Well, obviously, and Leo knew it, seeing as he had eyes. But that wasn’t it. Not the extent of it, at least. “No, it’s more like I wanna put him in a glass jar with a stick and some leaves. And maybe pick the jar up every now and then and shake it so I can study him.”

“It can never just be ‘I have a crush’ with you, can it?” Piper drawled. “You always gotta say peculiar shit.”

Leo scowled at her, his cheeks growing warm. What the hell is wrong with you? I literally just told you I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Yeah, because what you just said was super normal.”

“Actually shut up. You’re so annoying.”

“Bet you wouldn’t say that if I was a foot taller and blond.”

At that exact moment, Jason looked up, and Leo realized he’d gone back to staring  at him without realizing it. Bright blue met brown from across the crowded cafeteria, and Leo was frozen in place like a rabbit in crosshairs. He held Jason’s gaze for a moment, then two, before he forced himself to look at Piper who had her eyebrows arched up near her hairline. He stuck his tongue out at her, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “Shut up.”

She rolled her eyes and stabbed a broccoli. “Whatever. Come on. We should get going if we want to avoid Tyler. Assuming you’re done gawking at Prince Charming, that is.”

Leo felt the urge to tell her that Jason was in their Spanish class and that they probably wouldn’t have to leave lunch early if Leo could figure out a way to get Jason to walk with them (or hell, even just talk to him), but he wasn’t sure he’d survive the humiliation that was sure to follow. Instead, he looked back at Jason, only to find Jason still staring at him from their earlier eye contact. Leo’s eyes widened and his heart thumped in his chest, and he had to swallow down a very masculine squeak. “Uh, yeah. Alright. Let’s get out of here.”

He quickly stood, hardly waiting for Piper to catch up, and made his way to the door, ignoring the weight of the gaze on his shoulders. 

*-*-*

“That’s not how you conjugate that.”

Leo smothered a shit-eating grin as Jason jolted violently and turned on him with a scowl. “What?”

“Quedar,” Leo explained, gesturing at the homework in front of him. “You have it as Vosotras quedaremas, which is just wrong. Quedar is just literally never spelled that way. Plus, you’re using the wrong pronoun; it should be Nosotras quedaremos for ‘we will remain.’ Vostras is basically ‘you guys.’”

Jason’s scowl deepened and he furiously scrubbed at the paper with his eraser with a quietly muttered, “Thanks.”

Leo sucked his teeth for a moment before saying, “You know, I can help you with that. If you want. I’m basically the only reason Piper’s passing Spanish as is. It wouldn’t be a big deal for you to sit with us when we’re studying.”

“Yeah? What makes you think you’re so good at Spanish?”

Leo barked out a bright laugh at the joke, but Jason’s scowl just deepened. “Wait, are you stupid?” Leo clapped his hands to his mouth. “That is not what I meant to say!”

Jason looked torn between his desire to laugh and his desire to deck Leo in the face. Unsurprisingly, this expression was yet another scowl. “So, what did you mean to say?”

Instead of answering that question (he didn’t have an answer he was willing to give) he answered the first one. “I speak Spanish, dude. Like, fluently. That’s how I learned to talk.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. The Valdez tacked onto my name isn’t just there for decoration.”

“Oh.” Jason blinked at him for a moment like he was rebooting. “That’s, uh, that’s cool.”

“‘Uh, that’s cool,’” Leo mocked in a stupid little voice. Jason just rolled his eyes instead of getting mad at him, though, so Leo gave him a big, toothy grin. “But, yeah. I’m basically a walking, talking Spanish dictionary, if you ever need one.”

“How do you say ‘constable’ in Spanish?”

Leo froze, wracked his brain, and then glared at Jason. “Fuck you.”

Jason just grinned at him, totally unrepentant.

Leo waved his hands around like he could knock the words out of the air. “Literally whatever, that doesn’t count. You cheated. I don’t even know what that word means in English. I’m pretty sure you made it up–”

“I definitely didn’t.”

“Anyway!” Leo shouted over Jason’s obvious amusement. “What I’m trying to say is that I can help you with your homework. If you want.”

Jason considered him for a moment, and Leo had to fight the urge to hold his breath. “What’s in it for you?”

Leo wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s in it for you?” Jason repeated. “What are you getting out of this? Did someone put you up to it, or do you just want me to owe you a favor? What is it? What’s your angle?”

“Dude, what? No. Haven’t you ever heard of someone doing something nice, just to be nice?” Leo winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, knowing from experience what a loaded question that was. Before Jason could reply, he plowed forward. “Look, I’m really, really not trying anything. If you don’t wanna, you can just say no, and I’ll drop it.”

“Yeah, because the last two weeks have shown how well you can take no for an answer.”

Leo recoiled at the words and shrank back. His fingers twitched where they were wrapped around his bicep and his eyes were trained solidly on the ground on the opposite side of the room. “Sorry.”

Jason was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “No, I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”

Leo shrugged, still not looking at him. “Wasn’t wrong though, was it? I’ll leave you alone now, though. Promise. Sorry, again.”

Jason made a frustrated noise, and Leo looked up to see that he had a near-murderous scowl on his face, though this one was directed at the hands folded in his own lap. “You… don’t have to.”

Leo’s brow puckered in confusion and he tried not to let too much hope enter his tone. “Don’t have to what, man?”

“Leave me alone.”

Leo flinched at the sudden rebuke, and he clenched his jaw. “Look, I’m getting some really mixed signals from–”

“You don’t have to leave me alone,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t want you to.”

“Oh.” Leo blinked for a moment as the words finally sunk in. A grin started to slowly form on his face, and he didn’t even care that his cheeks were getting warm. “Alright. I won’t, then.”

“Right.” Jason cleared his throat, and Leo was about seventy-two percent sure that his ears were turning pink under all that fluffy blond hair. He wondered briefly how everyone in the school had been sent running from this almost bashful boy who was nervous around Leo of all people. “Um. Good.”

“Good,” Leo parrotted. He was pretty sure that all of his teeth were visible from how wide his smile was, but his heart was thumping too fast for him to pay it any mind. “You wanna start now?” Jason gave him a puzzled look, so he nodded at the homework still on the desk. “With that. No offense, but I highly doubt quedar is the only thing you managed to fuck up.”

Jason chuckled, and Leo marveled at the sound. “Yeah, okay.”

“Cool,” Leo beamed. Then he hopped up on his bed and patted the spot beside him in invitation. “Come on, dude. Take a seat. I hate studying at the desk. Are you hungry? I’m starving. Do you mind if I eat beef jerky while we study? Piper’s vegetarian, so I try not to eat it around her, which kinda sucks sometimes. I’ll even share if you say yes.”

Jason hummed contemplatively as he parsed through Leo’s word salad for a moment. He stood at the edge of Leo’s bed, just studying him, before he shrugged and climbed right on in. He settled down next to Leo, their sides pressed together from shoulder to knee in a way that made Leo almost breathless.  “I like beef jerky.”

Leo’s heart continued to do its hyperactive tap dance from before and he had to bite back a giddy little giggle. “Well then, Jason, I believe you and I will get along beautifully.”

*-*-*

This was a bad idea, Leo thought to himself as he came skidding out of the boys’ laundry room, a wide maniacal grin on his face. Piper was standing exactly where he'd stationed her as lookout, looking incredibly confused, so he grabbed her hand as he ran by, shouting, “Come On! ¡Vámonos! Move it, move it, move it!”

To her credit, she started running without question, which was good, because Tyler Dungan came barreling out into the hallway a second later, looking just as big and dumb and dangerous as always. He still had his ruined jersey in his hand, damp and dripping on the floor. When he caught sight of Leo, his face twisted up into a maroon snarl of fury. “Valdez!”

“This is what you needed the bleach and RIT dye for?” Piper shrieked, looking incredulous and almost as mad as Tyler. Leo just tipped his head back and laughed, picturing the gobsmacked expression on Tyler's face when he'd pulled the jersey out of the wash. Worth it.

The three of them ran through the halls, ignoring the shouts of teachers and the way students physically jumped out of their way. Tyler was fast, but he was also stupid and didn’t exactly have state of the art handling, so any time he got a little too close for comfort, Piper and Leo would just make a hard turn down another hall, and Tyler was left tripping over his feet in order to stop.

“Valdez, I'm gonna kill you!”

At those words, Leo's eyes lit up in challenge, and on his next step he turned with a flourish so he could start running backwards, just to be a show-off. “Ooh, you promise?” he cooed, leveling Tyler with a wide grin. “Sounds festive.”

Piper scoffed and grabbed the back of his shirt to yank him down another corridor. “We've got to lose him for good,” she panted. “We can’t keep running forever.”

“Are you kidding? This is the fun part.”

Only, the fun part was about to come to a very quick, unpleasant end, Leo realized with an awful sinking feeling. He'd known from the start that messing with Tyler Dungan was a Bad Idea, no matter how satisfying it was in the moment to knock him down a peg or two. Everyone at Wilderness was there for one delinquent reason or another, but Tyler was special, seeing as he was in for beating someone half to death over a game of pool. There was a reason Tyler basically got to do whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted, and Leo and Piper, who were already on the long list of people Tyler didn’t like, had gone and poked him with a very sharp stick. And to make matters worse, in their attempts to flee, they'd taken a wrong turn. They were at a dead end. No hallways to run down, no classrooms to hide in. Just them and their certain doom. 

There's an open window, Leo thought, a little hysterically. At least we can punch our own ticket before Tyler gets the chance.

Tyler burst through the doors before Leo could offer his one suggestion, and when he saw his prey cornered at the end of the hall, he let out a victorious war cry and charged. Leo felt his heart pounding in his throat as his eyes darted around, desperately searching for an out. If it was just him, he might have been tempted to just sit back and accept whatever beating Tyler had planned for him, but he couldn’t. Not with Piper there. Piper, whose only crime was ever staying by Leo's side when everyone else on the planet would have given up on him a dozen times over.

Leo reached out to blindly grasp for Piper's hand and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it, their fingers tangling tight enough to ache. They could get out of this. Surely. Somehow. Maybe they could run around Tyler on either side of the hall. That would probably confuse him, and Leo could make sure that he ran a little closer, so if Tyler did manage to grab one of them, Piper would be the one to get away. He could do this, but he’d have to be quick. It was too late to be clever. He thought about rabbits. Of a story, spoken in a gnarled old woman’s voice, about a cocky little rabbit, hunted by coyotes and eaten because he thought he could outrun anything. He couldn’t be a rabbit. He had to—

Then Tyler's feet flew up through the air in a graceful arc as he came to a very sudden stop. He went fully horizontal before gravity finally caught up with him and he slammed into the ground, back first. His skull cracked on the tile floor hard enough that Leo could see it visibly bounce, and he was surprised at the lack of blood it left behind. 

Before Leo could even begin to wonder what the hell just happened, Jason was there. His face was twisted up into a near bestial rage as he planted his foot on Tyler's chest, and bared his teeth.

“Stay down!” he barked, glowering down at Tyler until he got a furious nod of confirmation. Then his gaze flicked over to Leo and Piper, and his expression softened. He looked them both up and down before those intense blue eyes locked on Leo’s face. “Are you two okay?”

Leo gulped, feeling a bit like he'd been pinned in place just like Tyler, before he realized that Jason wasn't going to let him go without an answer. “I— Y-Yeah. We're, um. We're good.”

Jason nodded before he knelt down on one knee and got very close to Tyler's face, though he kept his foot planted to keep Tyler where he put him. His voice got a lot quieter then, but Leo could still hear the way each snarled word dripped with threat. “If you ever even look at either of those two again, I'll fucking kill you. Do I make myself abundantly clear, Dungan?” Tyler looked furious, and for a second Leo thought he might try to fight Jason (not that Leo would put much money on him after this), but then he gave a single sharp nod. Jason smiled at him, but it looked more like bared teeth than anything remotely friendly. “Good.”

“Jason! Mr. Dungan! What is the meaning of this?”

Leo's head whipped up to see Mrs. King power walking down the hall towards them, the sharp click-click of her heels showing just how serious she was. Jason just stood, dragging Tyler to his feet along with him. “Sorry, ma'am. My friend here tripped and fell, so I was helping him up. Isn’t that right, Dungan?”

Tyler's face screwed up for a moment before he nodded. “Right,” he spat, the word sounding like venom.

Jason clapped a hand on his shoulder with an expression that would have been kind, if not for the murder in his eyes. “Better be careful, man. I'd hate for something like this to happen again. Could be even worse next time.”

Tyler snorted and shrugged out from under Jason's hold and stomped off, and Mrs. King followed close behind, saying something about the nurse’s office. Jason watched them both go for a moment before he stepped over to Piper and Leo. His features weren't angry, not at all, but his eyes were still intense as he looked them over like he didn't trust Leo's assessment from before, and Leo could only stand there and let himself be looked at. When he was done with his inspection and found them to be up to code, his gaze locked with Leo’s. “I'll see you back in our room.”

Leo nodded furiously and squeaked out, “You got it, dude. See you later.”

Jason dipped his head in acknowledgement, the gesture oddly formal like some kind of honorable knight in a fairytale movie accepting a quest from the prince or whatever. “Later, then.”

And then he was gone.

When he was completely out of sight, Leo heard Piper let out a deep, shaky breath at his side. He turned to look at her and saw that her cheeks were as red as his felt. “Okay, yeah, I get it,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. “You’re allowed to be obsessed with him.”

After the adrenaline rush and the, well, everything that had just happened, Leo could only tilt his head back and laugh.

[glitchinginthegarden]

OC Smash Or Pass

I'm doing another one because I can. No pressure tagging: @matapang-coffee, @totentnz, @perhapsrampancy, @hiighborg

RULES: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

A/S/L (or something)

Full Name: Virgil "Gil" Vickerström / changed to Gil Vickers in 2071

Age: 35

Height: 6'5 / 196cm

Eyes: Cloud gray Kiroshis, naturally brown

Hair: Teal/phthalo green 'hawk, dirty blonde sides/roots (sometimes dyes his short hairs for fun)

Gender: Cis man

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pros +

LORGE. In every way. Yes, that way too.

Polite AF. Gil grew up corpo and a lot of the etiquette he had drilled into him during that time stuck. He says his "please" and "thank you"s, is usually the first to offer a handshake, holds doors open for others, will carry your groceries, etc etc.

Generally just a flat out good dude.

Extremely laid back, friendly, chill - to the point that it makes some people wary of him because they think it's not genuine. He is guilty of using this to his advantage if the situation calls for it though.

Grade A cuddler. You will never be cold, you will always have ample tits to rest your weary head upon, and he's content to spend an entire day like that.

Cons -

He participates in street fights at least one or two nights every week. He will come back bloody and bruised and possibly in need of stitches. And he will be thrilled about it. He will not ask for anything from you in tending to these wounds.

Watson's local ('ganic) weed man. If you don't like the dank, this ain't gonna work. He used to deal hard drugs too but stopped years ago.

Drives a candy grape panel van (or in-universe a Mahir Supron) and has no interest in upgrading his wheels.

His laid-back attitude can sometimes make his partners feel as though he's not invested.

He takes a loooong time to actually open up to someone. If you want more than a quick romp, he takes work.

Can "flip a switch" when he needs to be cold/ruthless/etc. Putting this in cons because it's jarring and borderline unhealthy (thanks, Arasaka).

Extra Propaganda

Most commonly seen in an open pink bathrobe, boxers, and nothing else. Will run errands like this. Take that as you will.

Connections out the wazoo. If you need something, he either has it or knows who does.

Extrovert and well practiced in carrying introverts through social situations.

Most things are low stakes to him. He's not the type to get upset or take it personally if someone turns him down for anything. Very "go with the flow".

Ex-hit man. If you need someone gone in Night City, he'll have it done in a week, max, but it'll cost you.

Likes to feel useful and that extends to bedroom. He's very service forward. Ultimately, an absolute switch though.

Good luck getting him to keep a shirt on.

[clowncontroldev]

man those are some really tough choices!

for Meredith is her thing with joker more wanting to fuck him or more "I wanna put you in jar and study you" (a bit of both?) since he's (probably) not human?

for Kim does she have stretch marks or a cesarean scar? (not a fetish but I do like seeing mother characters with body changes that tend to come from having children)

I really love them both, I must choose carefully... also one of the guests (of the planned 9) is going to be trans right? will that be plainly stated in the vote or would it be a surprise?

re: meredith

she's more the "put you in a jar" type. #mytwig

re: kim

she doesn't have stretch marks or a cesarean scar. i did think about it, but it came down to aesthetic preference. she Does have mom chub and mom bush though

re: trans characters

yeah we'd be explicit about that. it's a charm point! there's no reason for us to be cagey about it.

-TT

[miladydewintcr]

Taash Week Day 3: childhood/family @datvcompanionweeks

I was a little loose with the prompt, but I thought it would be cute to explore how Taash might act around children? So this is a fluffy little fic about Taash (and Lace) babysitting! (Bethan is my Hawke's youngest, but this fic should work completely as a standalone! I just needed A Child and little Bethan was the right age etc.) If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, you can do so here!

They said their goodbyes to Hawke on the doorstep before Harding carried little Bethan into their apartment. Taash shut the door behind them, and put the enormous satchel that Anders had insisted they take for the afternoon just in case down on the table.

“Right,” they said, matter-of-fact. “Now what do we do with her?”

“Uhh…” Harding set Bethan down on the floor and went to inspect the contents of the satchel. “Are there any toys in here? Or books, or anything like that.”

Bethan, free at last, gave the room a cursory glance before making her way over to Taash’s set of weights in the corner on shaky legs. Taash’s eyes darted quickly between their partner and the toddler, trying their best to keep their attention on both.

Harding was removing jar after jar from the satchel- ointments and powders and poultices. “Anders is such a worry-wart,” she noted lightly, lifting one jar to read the handwritten label. “How likely are we to need ‘scorpion sting antihistamine’?” She picked up another one. “And how is it different to ‘wasp sting antihistamine’?”

Taash opened their mouth to reply, but before they could say a word, Bethan had reached their weights and was trying to wrap one tiny little hand around the handle.

Instantly, Taash could picture the next few seconds. The weight would be too heavy for her. Bethan would either hurt her little fingers trying to move it, or strain her muscles, or pick it up only to drop it on her feet, crushing her tiny toes.

Acting purely on instinct, Taash lunged for her, vaulting over the sofa to scoop her up into their arms.

Harding looked up from the jars absently, took a moment to realise what must’ve happened, and then broke out into a fond smile, even as Bethan burst into tears.

“Uhhh…” Taash hooked their hands under her armpits and held her out in front of them at eye-level. “Look. I know you wanna play with them. But they’re really heavy, and if you hurt yourself I think your parents might kill me for real.”

Harding snorted. She’d already returned to sorting through the satchel, but clearly she was still listening in.

“Lace,” Taash said, struggling to keep their tone even. “Are there any toys in there?”

“Not a one!” Harding said cheerily.

For somebody so tiny, Bethan could scream. Taash winced slightly as they set her back down on the floor, hands hovering nearby to intercept her should she go anywhere untoward.

Bethan brightened immediately at being released, and went straight back to the weights.

On their knees, Taash shuffled across the floor after her. This time, as Bethan reached out, they had an idea.

“Come here,” they said, lifting Bethan up momentarily. Bethan let out an outraged squeal, but then Taash was setting her back down before she had enough time to be thoroughly upset.

“Put your hands here,” Taash instructed her, guiding her tiny hands to the bar. “Do you know numbers yet? We’re gonna count to three.”

“Three!” Bethan held up three fingers. It was kinda cute, Taash could admit. Maybe kids were alright.

“Yeah, that’s right, three. Ready?”

Bethan nodded, sucking her thumb for a moment as she studied the barbell with intense focus before folding forwards to grab hold of it again.

“There we go.” Taash said, kneeling behind her and putting their own hands on either side of hers. “One… Two… Three…”

Bethan counted along happily, and when they finished their countdown, Taash lifted the bar a little way from the ground. Bethan’s hands went with it, and she let out a delighted squeal.

“Hey, you’re really strong!” Taash told her. Bethan glowed with pride, letting go of the bar to turn around, giggling. Taash hurriedly set the barbell down to catch her as she threw herself at them for an excited hug. “Oh, wow, you’re cuddly.”

“Again!!” Bethan demanded, releasing Taash’s shoulders and turning back around to face the barbell, her tiny face set with a determined little frown not unlike her mother’s.

“Yeah? Alright, put your hands down on the bar, then.” As Bethan reached out, chattering happily in only somewhat coherent sentences, Taash turned to look over their shoulder, hoping to check in on Harding.

Harding had abandoned the satchel and was resting her hands on the edge of the table, watching their exchange with a slightly dazed-looking smile. It took her a moment to notice that Taash was looking at her, and the second she did she flushed scarlet.

“You’re, um, really good with kids,” Harding stammered. “It’s… It’s cute.”

“Am not,” Taash said, on reflex. And then, seconds later; “Really?”

Harding nodded. “I don’t think we’re gonna need the toys.”

Bethan coughed delicately, pointedly, in so perfect an imitation of her mother that for a moment Taash thought Hawke must’ve come to collect her early. “A-gain,” she ordered.

Taash laughed, turning away from their partner to rest their hands back on the bar. “Alright. You’re the one in charge, I guess.”

Bethan smiled and nodded, as though this should be obvious. “Three?” She held up three fingers again.

“Yeah, on three,” Taash agreed. “One… Two...”

[danieyells]

Sure Haku can have big balls but we all agree Alan Thoma and Jiro have big dicks? But not like slightly above average but rather 20 minutes foreplay just to loosen up but still be a fair stretch, big as in a fair amount of lube is needed to even slip the head in and might need more to fully thrust inside

You only need that kind of prep if you're a coward!

THEY ARE RATHER LARGE MEN y'know as far as the bishie style goes. It'd be pretty proportionate of them to be well hung and i'm all about sicknasty size difference and distention if you've got a small enough partner--

Fortunately all three of them are. . .idk graceful enough not to be cruel about it.

Alan is definitely inexperienced and he's already so fucking scared of harming his partner he would just. . .whenever they try and get him in bed he just goes "We can't. Sorry." Fortunately he's not the type to, y'know, beat around the bush so if they ask him he'll explain. . .and if they say they wanna try anyway he'll give it a go but he'll be ready to stop the moment they seem uncomfortable or in pain. Which means a lot of reassurances that it's fine, it's fine, keep going. It'll be a lot of convincing, but he'll be as slow and gentle as he can! His partner would probably have to do a lot of leading. . . . Alternatively he'd be all about getting them off and appreciating their body and when they wanna return the favor he hesitates then says they don't have to. He can take care of it himself if they don't want to. And they're like 'why would I not want--oh' when he pulls out this monster.

Tohma has much more experience and is much more confident overall. When things reach that point with his partner he's a little more direct. Maybe he grinds against them to let them get a subtle feel long before the first time they do it, or he just takes their hand and lets them have a feel for themself. "Do you understand? If we take that route, I'm going to need a fair bit of your time. . . ." He knows just how to prepare them, just how to stretch them out, and he makes certain to pleasure them the whole way--and if they're a little limp from the pleasure buildup then. . .that'll just make it easier to put it in at the end. He might hold them up and gently guide them down onto him. . .use them as a little fleshlight once they've gotten used to it enough.

Jiro isn't even fully aware of that he's particularly large. Like, numerically he is, he's studied anatomy before and he's seen Yuri naked and he's a lot smaller(well, Yuri's smaller in every aspect) but it somehow hadn't occurred to him that it could be a problem. Meanwhile the one who knows is Yuri--and when Jiro's partner shows up, Yuri just looks at them in irritation. "Ah, yes, Jiro did say he had plans today after his treatment." And Yuri just thrusts a particularly large, unlabeled jar of gelatinous fluid at them, telling them not to take too much time because they are very busy and Jiro being occupied is a hindrance. And Jiro's like "oh, Yuri said we'd need a lot. I've read that too much can reduce the pleasure, though. I don't care either way, so just use as much as you want." (Not that he can't feel it or anything, he's just. . .indifferent for the most part. It doesn't bother him if he doesn't come, he'll take care of it later if it's a problem.) And of course they understand why they thought they'd need so much when Jiro whips it out. Jiro's very analytical about the whole thing, once he realizes that hm, yes, this won't fit, but with enough elasticity--he's got no problem figuring out what should be done to prepare. The massive jar of lube may or may not be experimental but it does the job with great efficiency. . .turns out it was an experimental gel for anomalous ailments where the afflicted turn to stone or wood with the intention of relaxing muscles and joints and regaining flexibility, but it works great as a lubricant! Jiro's also not very experienced and his tendency to experiment means he might be a little rough just to see how it all works, but he's considerate enough of his partner not to go too hard once he realizes oh that hurts, huh. Kinda antithetical to the evening's plans.

[orpheuslament]

i also saw that post and immediately started researching and thought "i have to read this man's books" so thanks

i think it's really funny that on tumblr (where multiple fandoms i interact with are like: "we must put these freaky little fictional characters in jars and study them") there is so little understanding of the same urge with real people 🙃

exactly like sometimes you wanna put a dead guy under a microscope & study him for a bit is that a crime