#‘He still feels he’s got no one to visit. Well. Except maybe his brother. But his brother’s not the type to put a shrine together for him.’

[highrollerslounge]

I understand why a lot had to be cut while Grim Fandango was being developed, but whenever I revisit the puzzle document and read the part about Manny’s brother, I am ALWAYS struck with horrible longing for that puzzle to have been made

[euthymiya]

slowly, surely — ft. todoroki touya

touya’s body heals one day at a time, slowly but surely. he and his brother bridge the gap along the way, slowly but surely. you like to think maybe, there’s a good chance he’ll live a life outside of just dying now

before you read: fem reader ; chapter 426 spoilers ; established relationship ; post war ; touya lives and his body heals idc ; todoroki family dynamics ; fluff and healing

You never thought you’d meet his family.

Touya’s family files in every day through the door for weeks into his room after the war. You’re introduced to the people you never thought you’d formally meet in an unlikely circumstance.

It’s difficult at first. Touya can only speak for a few minutes at a time every day. You have to share the sparse, little time you have to see him with the rest of his family. But you suppose it’s not so bad. You get a glimpse of the kind of brother Touya could have been, a side him you never got to see.

He’s teasing—makes a well-timed slightly inappropriate joke at Natsuo’s expense regarding his wedding. The blush on his brother’s face and the chastising click of his mother’s teeth makes you smile a bit. He pretends to be bored when Fuyumi rambles about her new students, but he listens attentively—you know because it surprises you all when he brings up a student she mentions in passing weeks ago. He’s a bad influence, too—his suggestions for Shouto to cheat earn a wilting glare from you that makes him concede begrudgingly.

Despite it all, you like to think Touya could have been a good brother. Can be a good brother. You don’t lose hope that maybe, amongst all the rubble, a small, fertile patch of soil exists.

It takes weeks. Months. Close to a year, even. One healer turns to two, two turns to three, and eventually, there’s a handful of the best healing quirks slowly trying to fix his charred, weakened body. Your eyes fill with tears the first time you see the swell of his round cheek restored, earning a huff and roll of his eyes.

Always so damn emotional, he grunts. He closes his eyes and relishes in your touch when you stroke the skin with your finger, though.

His skin is never quite the same. That much, you expected. It’s better than it ever was before, though. No more staples holding him together. No more deep purple and rubbery skin. It’s textured and discolored, but not nearly as rough as it used to be. You don’t care what he looks like, of course. As long as he’s with you and breathing you’re content—but he seems happy with the results.

He starts to feel whole again.

His family never stops visiting, either. (Except for his father—you promptly tell him his presence is no longer required one day. He nods like he understands. As though he can understand. It enrages you, but he offers you a quiet thank you before he leaves. Thank you for taking care of my son. You hate him more after that—for being appreciative that you now do what he couldn’t).

He gets moved to a proper hospital bed eventually. There are still tubes and needles hooked up to him—he’s not too happy about that. It makes sharing a bed with you hard. But he settles for letting you rest your head against his thigh, hand clutching his.

It’s as good as it gets for now.

Slowly, surely, Touya for the first time, doesn’t head for death. Slowly, surely, for the first time, he starts to heal.

————

“Is Touya-nii sleeping?”

“No,” you smile, turning to Shouto as he walks up to you, “he’s in there. Bored, actually.”

Shouto bends down, grabs the snack that drops from the vending machine for you and hands it to you.

Touya is right. He was raised to be a kind boy.

“I brought soba,” he says quietly. “I heard he can have solid food now.”

“He’ll appreciate it,” you beam.

Shouto lingers. You smile gently and take the hint, joining him and walking alongside the boy and make your way to Touya’s room.

It hits you then, all at once. Shouto has never spent a moment with his brother alone. Not properly, at least—not without trying to avoid being burned to death and not without having an unconscious, recovering Touya laid up in bed rest.

Soon, you hope, they can share a meal together without you in the room to ease the awkward tension.

“Touya,” you call, walking in, “you have a surprise!”

“We can finally use this bed for better things?” He asks, voice a raspy grunt.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing in exasperation and making him snicker as he notices Shouto follow you through the door.

“No,” you say tiredly.

“Bummer,” he grins. It’s cheeky and cute enough that you don’t scold him further.

“Is the bed uncomfortable? I’m sure we can get a better one,” Shouto offers.

Touya lets out an amused snort, and you let your shoulders fall in relief—at least Shouto’s cluelessness at times makes things less painful when Touya remains his shameless self.

There’s comfort in it, though. You suppose you don’t mind it as much if his personality is still in tact.

“So what’s my surprise, doll. It’s not nice to keep the sickly waiting, y’know.”

“Why don’t you ask Shouto?” You roll your eyes.

Touya looks over at his younger brother. So much has changed in the last few months, you think—Touya looks happy to see his brother. It’s a big step up from murder, for sure.

“You shouldn’t have, little brother,” he grins, “what is it? Our father’s death certificate?”

“Oh, Touya,” you sigh, shaking your head, “you never change.”

“I brought soba,” Shouto holds up the bag in his hand, “I thought we could share.”

The smooth grin on Touya’s lips falter. Something flashes in his eyes—something close to regret. Maybe even sadness. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, replaced with practiced amusement as he hums.

“Great,” he drawls, “hospital food sucks, you know.”

Touya has more in common with his brother than he doesn’t. It takes him good near two decades to realize as much. Maybe, if he had the opportunity to realize Shouto was his brother who liked soba just like him and not the son that replaced him in his father’s fucked up goals, he could have lived just to live instead of just to die.

But he’s living now, he supposes. Breathing and talking and seeing—and as of more recently, eating. (Real food, at least).

There’s still a chance to eat soba with Shouto, though. Maybe Shouto hates fish just like him too—maybe he doesn’t. Maybe, in another life, he could pass his fish over to his younger brother at the dinner table when their mother isn’t looking.

“I’ll bring some more often then,” Shouto offers.

You smile as Touya’s eyes soften. The glimmer with a little bit of excitement, even. A childlike sort of glee he never got to have.

“Yeah,” he nods, “you should. Don’t expect me to pay you back, though. Your older brother’s dead broke.”

“Okay,” Shouto smiles.

You settle in the corner, letting the younger of the two take the chair beside the bed. Shouto pulls out chopsticks—Touya huffs over getting the brown ones instead of the black.

Shouto trades without a complaint.

You hear Touya murmur, “did you see the news lately?”

“About what?”

“About Endeavor, what else?”

“No,” Shouto swallows, “I had exams.”

“I told you, it’s easy to cheat if you—”

“Touya,” you hiss, making the latter curl his lips into a slight pout.

“Study hard, Shouto,” Touya grunts, rolling his eyes. “Hit those books, I guess.”

————— bonus —————

“How was today?” You ask quietly, sat on the edge of his bed, stroking through his hair. It’s shorter than it used to be, regrowing slowly from the roots with the rest of his body.

“Are we back on this talking about our days bullshit again?” Touya sighs, “we spent the whole day together, doll. You saw it all.”

“C’mon,” you hum, pinching his cheek, “indulge me.”

“S’fine,” he rolls his eyes, “the little brat was good company, I guess.”

“Yeah?” You grin.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, looking off to the side as he shrugs. “Yeah. Don’t make it weird.”

“You seemed like you were having fun,” you beam, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He rolls his eyes, leaning into your touch slightly.

“Yeah, s’cause my only company is you. Gets boring.” He gives you a charming, teasing, smooth little smile that has you scowling at him.

“How rude,” you huff, “maybe I should leave you with no company at all.”

He chuckles, turning his head slowly to give the pad of your thumb a soft, delicate kiss. “I’m kidding. You’re the best company a wanted criminal-turned-hospital-prisoner could have, doll.”

I would make a longer more detailed healing journey fic with touya but I already have a half written long fic for him that I seriously need to finish so it can wait. For now it will stay a short drabble

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[snailmail444]

Silent Night

NSFW ⭐️ 18+ ⭐️ MDNI

It’s your first winter star with Sam’s family! Everything is going great, except for the fact that you two can’t get a moment of privacy.

For @beet-roots Merry Kinkmas

AO3 Link

“Okay now let’s do Sammy’s girlfriend’s present!” Vincent squirms in your lap with excitement, looking upside down at you. His big blue eyes sparkle with adoration, and you think he takes after his brother.

Sam beside you looks playfully dejected. He pushes out his lip in a pout, shoving his hand into Vincent’s hair and down his face.

“Bro, stop,” he whines, and you think maybe his jealousy isn’t all for show, “you’re rizzing her up too much! She’s gonna leave me for you, dude!”

Sam’s playing, but you know he is at least a little perturbed because Vince can sit in your lap and he can’t. It’s a wonder he’s not climbing the walls right now, all things considered.

With deadly efficiency you use one hand to tickle his ribs, and Sam cringes back in a cry of surrender.

Kent rolls his eyes and coughs to hide a laugh while Jodi giggles. She gives you a sweet smile as she passes over a silver wrapped box. It says ‘from all of us’ in swooping calligraphy, and you know that means it’s from Jodi.

“You wanna unwrap it bud?” You ask, and Sam’s hand twitches out to the package before he realizes you were talking to Vince. Another pout, and you smirk at him while Vince annihilates the beautiful wrapping job Jodi did.

Dutifully, he passes back the unassuming cardboard box and crawls off your lap so you can open it properly.

You pull the top away and don’t delay in pushing back the tissue and removing the deep red nightgown, holding it up to the light to see better.

“I know it’s not very hip,” Jodi says, her voice quiet and maybe a little insecure, “but I—uh, we—just couldn’t leave it. Sammy sent those gorgeous pictures of you and I kept thinking how lovely you would look in it.”

It is pretty, albeit more conservative than you would ever pick for yourself. The gown is ankle length, with sleeves that hit the wrist. Lace and gold beading trim the edges, and you think Jodi has good taste.

You can feel Sam’s eyes heavy on you, on the nightgown, and you have to bite back a grin. He’s so desperate for you at this point, you know exactly where his brain is. Poor baby hasn’t gone over a day without sex since you two got together about four months ago, and with prepping and visiting it’s been a week since he had his hands on you.

“It’s perfect Jodi, thank you,” you say, winking at her conspiratorially before saying, “all of you have excellent fashion sense.”

In a show of good faith you change into it after dinner. Jodi was right—the color complements your complexion perfectly. And while it’s long, and shows no skin, it clings to your curves and drapes in such a way that you still look shapely. You look sexy in a prudish sort of way.

You’re not the only one that seems to think so. The moment you emerge from the bedroom to show Jodi the final product, Sam’s back to staring at you hard. As Jodi ooh’s and ah’s over you with the affection only a mother has, and Vincent stares with big round eyes and tells you you’re beautiful with a nervous little blush, Sam begins to fidget.

A glance at him and you think he might drag you out to his truck for some privacy and rail you in the passenger seat. Your cunt pulses with excitement. Vincent is going to be too distracted with his toys to bother you, and Jodi and Kent are going to take the Mullner’s Christmas cookies, so you’ll have time for a quickie if all goes well.

“And what about you, Sammy, don’t you think that—“ there’s a knock on the door, startling Jodi into silence. She presses a hand against her chest. “Goodness, now who could that be so late?”

Jodi wanders off towards the door and Sam circles in on you like a predator, fingers skimming the fabric where it hits your waist. He leans in close, and his voice is raspy in your ear. “I like this,” he says, giving it a small, affectionate tug, and you know that tone. That’s the tone he uses when he’s going to fuck you like an animal. A shiver of anticipatory arousal claws its way down your spine, and you smile.

“I can't say I approve of you coming all the way out here in the cold so late, but you know I’m always happy to see you Sebastian,” Jodi giggles, opening the door wider and letting in a pink cheeked, crookedly grinning Sebastian. He’s got a small present wrapped in his hands, and his eyes are positively glittering as he stares up at Sam’s mom.

“You know I can’t go a Winter Star without seeing you, Miss Jodi,” he says, savoring the words Miss Jodi. Sam retracts from your space while Jodi giggles and blushes, and he throws up his hands with a groan.

“Dude stop flirting with my mom,” he whines, and Sebastian laughs once before shaking his head and giving Jodi a sweet smile.

“I’m not flirting Sammy, I’m being polite. You should try it once in a while,” he says, and he winks before coming up to you and Sam.

“Why are you here?” Irritation drips off his every word, and you know Sam is properly annoyed. Pent up, desperate, and cockblocked by his best friend who’s also hitting on his mom.

Bad day for Samson.

“Other than I wanted to give you your present? I needed a break from the ‘festivities,’” he makes air quotes around festivities, and you can feel Sam unwind in resignation. “Come with me for a walk?”

“What’s the magic word?” Sam’s already stepping towards the door to his room, presumably to get dressed for the outside, and you feel a tug of disappointment. Maybe it’s not Sam getting cockblocked.

“I’ll say please if it makes you happy Samson.”

Your face must be doing something by the time Sam’s dressed and ready for the cold, because Sebastian frowns apologetically and Sam twists his mouth. Once Jodi finishes fussing over her boys and departs with Kent, Sam approaches with a sheepish smile.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and you stare at him hard in a way that hopes to convey your emotions.

“You better,” You respond, and maybe it’s a little more irritable than you meant for it to be because Sam looks like a kicked puppy as he follows Sebastian out the door. You’d feel worse if you weren’t babysitting Vincent alone on Winter Star when you could be getting railed.

It doesn’t take long for Jodi and Kent to get back—an hour said and done—and everyone readies for bed pretty immediately, too exhausted from the fact that Vince woke everybody at the godless hour of five am for presents. Sam still isn’t back by the time you crawl into his bed, and you glare at the air mattress where he should be and hope he can feel the phantom pain wherever he is.

You’re drifting off when a swoop of cold air chills you to the bone. There’s a light commotion, and you hear Sam go “fucking shit ass,” before you fully process that he’s stumbling in the window. You sit back, burrowing into his blankets as he regains his footing.

“Later Seb,” he calls outside with a wave, and you wave too, tight and irritable.

“See you Sammy. If you need me I’ll be in the master bedroom,” Sebastian calls back, and you hear his footsteps recede along with maniacal laughter, a faint call of bye to you billowing in the wind as an afterthought.

“Remind me to kick his ass,” Sam looks at you once he snaps the windowpane shut with a big grin, his cheeks pink and snow dusting his eyelashes. It makes you angry how good he looks right now, how disgustingly cute and charming.

“Sure,” you cross your arms and pout, averting your gaze as Sam comes up and kneels by the side of the bed.

“Baby please, I’m sorry,” he reaches for your hand, and when you don’t give it he settles for your gripping the nightgown, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that it’s right at the apex of your thigh, “what was I supposed to do? Say no to Seb in front of everybody?”

“Yes.”

He buries his face in the sheets beside you and you finally spare him a glance. He senses it and looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster, and you feel yourself melting under his gaze.

“Please, let me make it up to you,” he says, and there’s a little whine in his voice. Desperation, maybe. “I need you so bad, you look so hot right now, please.”

The chill of the room mingles with the sensation of watching Sam beg on his knees and makes your nipples hard, and you decide to go on with it for a minute. “It’s just a shame. I’m not even wearing any underwear, Sammy, because I was so excited to finally get a minute alone with you.”

He whines, shifts, and you can see the excited bulge growing in his pants.

“Too bad everybody’s home now so we can’t do anything. I’m really horny too.”

“No we can, please,” he grabs your hand now, chilly fingers insistent on yours, “we just have to be quiet. Everybody’s asleep. Come on, please?”

You almost break right now, but you hold out. If you can get him that much more worked up, it’ll be worth your while. “I dunno if you’d be able to keep it down Sammy. For your Winter Star present I was gonna let you fuck me without a condom—you know, an unwrapped gift kinda thing.”

It’s something you’ve been saving specifically for a moment like this. Truthfully you know Sam’s clean and you have reliable birth control, and would have let him hit raw months ago, but making him twitch with anticipation has been more fun than anything else.

And oh, it’s worth it to watch the way his eyes widen and his face slackens. He sits up that much taller, and you’re almost surprised he doesn’t clasp his hands together and shake them.

“Baby, I promise I’ll be good. I need you so bad. I really want my present, I’ll do anything.”

You gesture for him to stand, and he does because he’s a puppet on strings, and you arch your eyebrow at him. “You can start by putting your money where your mouth is. Sit at the foot of the bed for me and prove you can stay quiet by touching yourself.”

Sam’s clothes shlump to the floor unceremoniously as he peels off his layers, and you feel a pang of guilt because he’s shivering and flushed since he’s not warm yet. In a show of good faith, you kick the blanket towards him and scoot until you’re rested on the headboard.

It’s alright, you reason, because he won’t be left alone for long.

Sam wraps the blanket around his shoulders, and you watch with enthusiasm as he shifts. His cock is hard and flushed, his nipples pink and pert from the cold, and he’s wearing that shy expression he always has before he truly gets into it. You might be drooling.

It’s hard to tell if he’s teasing you or if he’s warming himself up when he runs his hand down his chest and across his stomach painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat when he finally wraps a hand around his cock, deliberate as he spreads a bead of precome from his tip down with his thumb.

His teeth sink into his lip on the first stroke, cheeks darkening while his eyebrows scrunch inwards. He watches you watch him, and one corner of his mouth ticks upwards while he spreads his knees that much more and arches his back.

Stage fright gone, Sam’s putting on a show now, and god do you ever watch. You lose yourself in it—in the way his abs tighten and his breath puffs out intermittently like he might’ve moaned in another situation. His head falls back on his shoulders, eyes screwed shut, until finally he tightens his hand around the base of his cock and looks at you with pure desperation.

“Please,” his voice is hoarse when he whispers, and he’s squirming. For just a second you think you should tell him no, keep going, because you’re so into watching him you want to see his come paint his beautiful stomach. But then he’s blinking at you, big blue eyes pleading. “Baby?” His voice cracks when he prods for a response, and you decide he should be put out of his misery.

“Remember to be qui—“ Sam cuts you off in a bruising kiss. He doesn’t waste a second, licking into your mouth while he fumbles between your legs, rucking up the nightgown in the process.

“Quiet,” he pants while he rips the hem up past your breasts, leaving you suddenly cold and exposed, save the places where his fingers trail blazing paths towards your cunt. “Quiet, uh huh, I’ll be so—quiet—“ he nods into your skin, latching his mouth to your neck and sucking while he slips a finger into your eager cunt.

Sam’s fingers are expert, long and dexterous and callused from years of playing the guitar, and you’re the one struggling not to make any noise now while he fingers you open for him. Every glance of his fingers has your thighs twitching and you biting back little wanton moans.

“Shit, I can’t,” Sam withdraws his fingers after barely a minute, still managing a throaty murmur, “I’m so sorry, fuck, I just can’t wait. You’re so goddamn wet.”

And then he’s lining himself up and thrusting into you slowly. Inching in while he huffs air through his clenched teeth. You can tell he’s really trying to hold himself back, to be gentle, but then his forehead drops to your shoulder and he looses a high whine when his hips snap all the way forward seemingly against his volition.

You freeze, heart hammering in your chest as you hold him still and listen for any sounds that somebody in the house has woken up. Sam’s doing his best, but he’s gyrating against your cunt frivolously and begging against your chest.

“Just couldn’t help it, I’m sorry. Sorry, please baby,” he’s much quieter in his whisper now, “you just felt better— ah —than I expected—please let me move, I’ll be good I swear.”

After another moment of nothing, you finally relax your grip, and Sam wastes no time, fucking into you so hard and fast your eyes roll back in your head.

“Thank you baby— nngh —thank you,” the words are spoken against your breasts as he presses his mouth to them, sucking and nipping the skin while he humps you like an animal in heat. “Best Winter Star gift ever, swear. Thank you, oh God.”

You’re actually surprised when his thumb finds its way to your clit. Sam’s one track minded on his best days, and you would’ve thought he’d be too overwhelmed to even think of it.

“Wanna— hah —feel you come. Can you come on my cock baby?”

You go to say yes, you’re right there, and a too loud moan slips from your chest instead when he slams right into your g-spot. Sam’s free hand closes over your mouth, eyes wide and hips stuttering as he tries and fails to still to a stop.

He either doesn’t give a fuck or can’t bring himself to slow down anymore, because a moment later he’s back to absolutely railing you, making little tiny grunting whines as he does his best to keep himself quiet. “Gonna come,” he manages, strained, and that’s what finishes you.

You ride wave after wave of delicious white heat as Sam stuffs you with his come, shaking and muffling himself against your skin. He doesn’t stop thrusting, greedy and prolonging your mutual pleasure as long as he can before he collapses onto you, limp.

When you finally get your bearings back you take stock of the situation: Sam draped over you, cock still inside, nightgown around your armpits, bruises beginning to purple in the places where Sam used you as his silencer. A ripple of perverse arousal trickles through your overstimulated body at the sheer wrongness of it all, and you twitch.

That’s enough to rouse Sam, who kisses your cheek and pulls out of you, lovingly tucking the nightgown back down to your ankles and pulling up the blanket before snuggling into your side.

When you two wake, you’re horrified to find come staining the inside of the nice garment. Sam sees it over your shoulder while you’re changing and packing, and he tugs you close to him, purring into your ear, “I want you to wear that again when we get home tonight. I’m not finished ruining it.”

[vinziel]

Hug Time? Male Reader x John Dory

A/N: First time writing angst. Yay.

Throughout the saving Floyd mission, you've noticed John Dory always tried to hug his siblings and you, but neither you nor his brothers hugged him. It seems you and his brothers are still uncomfortable. After a few months have passed since that day and you've grown accustomed to being touchy with John Dory but his brothers still need a bit of time, which was understandable, yet John Dory felt...distanced from his brothers, no matter how hard or how much he tried they never seem to get around and be comfortable with him. He thinks that maybe he'll never convince them but you always assure him that he can and it'll take time. John Dory felt assured but the feeling still lingered inside of him. One day, you were going out to buy some groceries, Bruce also came to visit at this time, John Dory, Poppy, Branch, Viva and the rest of the Brozone brothers were all talking inside the bunker, talking about anything really. Then the hug time bracelets went off and everyone started to hug each other, except for John Dory, whenever he would try to hug one of his brothers someone hugged them first, and he didn't want to just hug them still since he knew that they may not be so comfortable still. Now everyone has hugged someone.

John Dory was on the verge of a mental breakdown, he felt like crying, he was slightly trembling, thinking to himself "No John Dory, don't do it. Don't ruin the mood" He stands up and leaves without anyone noticing, he then goes to his shared room with you, locks the door and just quietly cries in bed. He had you and he was grateful but he still wanted at least one of his brothers to hug him or show the same affection he was giving them. He knew that he brought this upon himself but, it still hurts, to know your brothers still don't feel comfortable enough with you. Time passes by and Poppy notices John Dory is gone, and she gets a little concerned "Wait, did anyone hug John Dory?" She says. The brothers and Viva look at each other and shrug. All of them then went to your bedroom with John Dory room knocking on his door to no response.

You finally got back home with groceries, putting them on the table, you see a small commotion outside your room. "What's going on?" You ask, concerned and curious. "Well we're not sure. I think no one hugged John Dory during hug time, and we're trying to let him let us inside his room to maybe help him feel better" Poppy says before continuing "But he's not opening the door" You sigh, a frown on your face, visibly worried about how John Dory's feeling "Let me handle this" You say knocking on the door saying "John? Can you let me in? It's me, Y/N" The door then opens and you enter it, and close it, while the rest of the group goes back to the living room.

It was now just you and John Dory. He guys you, still quietly sobbing, as you take him to bed, sitting beside him "How are you feeling?" You ask, your voice is soft, stroking his hair, as you take off his goggles that cover his tear filled eyes, John Dory then just let's it all out on you, as you comfort him "It's fine, just let it all out" after a while of crying John Dory stops, it's been a while since he's ever actually cried so this was new, John Dory felt good letting it all out, as you both continue to hug "I just feel that maybe they still don't love me like a big brother. Maybe they'll never love me like a big brother, maybe I'll never get them to be comfortable with me. I-I" You sush him "Nonesense" John Dory then removes your hand and says "No! It's not nonesense! They still can't bring themselves to hug me, and every time it's just me and one of my brothers alone it's always awkward!" He yells, the walls were thankfully thick enough to make it soundproof which you're glad "I don't know what I can do to make them like me anymore. It seems no matter how hard I try, they still have resentment over me, no matter how hard they try to hide it, and maybe I deserve it. I-I just wish I can get them to at least not be awkward with me anymore, to be comfortable with me" He continues, his voice is breaking, he isn't yelling anymore, tears rolling down his cheek, he stopped hugging you, as he just puts his hands on the bed.

You always saw John Dory as being a bit too confident but now, it seems like this whole new side of him is new to you, he was being vulnerable with you, and he was letting himself cry, he's letting himself be all sad around you. You have a frown on your face, concerned for John Dory's mental health, you sigh and say "Look....sure it's true, you may have deserved this kind of treatment from your brothers but I assure you they still love you. It just takes time to get used to being around the person who was the reason you ran away from home, the person trying to force them to be perfect, so please John, don't give up and don't think that just because they haven't gotten comfortable with you doesn't mean they won't ever will" You kiss John Dory, in hopes it'll make him feel a bit better, John Dory kisses you back, and after pulling away, he smiles and wipes his tears "You're right, maybe they'll come around some day." He says "That's the spirit! Now let's go back to the living room." You exclaim.

Once you two are back in the living room, the Brozone brothers, Poppy and Viva, all hug John Dory, he's quite shocked by this, then Bruce starts to talk "We're sorry for not hugging you John. We know we may have been a bit resentful towards you at times but we want to assure you that we do still love you" Branch continues by saying "Yeah, we've seen your efforts in trying to make us be comfortable around you and we have been too harsh on you" All the brothers, Poppy and Viva then nod in agreement of Bruce and Branch's statement, John Dory starts to cry tears of joy "I love you guys. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that." He says. You watch this unfold with a smile on your face, appreciating the heartfelt moment. The day continues on as Bruce decides to cook you all dinner, you all eat together and The brothers now seem to be more comfortable around John Dory. Sharing laughs, sharing embarrassing stories about each other during the Brozone days (Mostly from John Dory). Yes this is truly the start of a new beginning among the brothers.

[rozugold]

Ok ramble time

Ok imagine you’re Tubbo. You just got your distant brother figure and your bestie off that damn mountain, though not in the most ideal way (I will make those comics eventuallyyy)

But that’s beside the point. You saved your best friend! You did something right for once! Except sike! your best friend hates you now, and you kind of hate him too (you let him know as much) then you guys stop talking. Which is fine, i mean, it’s not like he was your entire world.

You return to Snowchester! It’s a ghost town, obviously. There’s a memorial of you, decorated with fresh flowers and dusty knick knacks. The flowers are from Ranboo, he’s pretty sweet. He’s also been the one to upkeep your town while you were gone. You hang out with them a lot, they’re the only one who sticks around these days. They’re pretty sweet.

You try to go back to doing the things you did before you died. There’s those nukes you never finished making, so you work on them. And you work on them. And you work on them. And you get nothing done. Your brain feels scattered and far away, it’s impossible to focus. So you give it a break, you can afford to. It’s pretty safe these days with Dream gone, you know because you keep tabs on everyone on the server. There’s some strange things going on here and there but nothing too concerning. You hang out with Ranboo more.

Ah fuck, you two find a baby. It’s a piglin, infected but not fully zombified as it has enough thought to run up to you two for help. So you take it back to snowchester and give it potions to stop the infection. Ranboo is worried it won’t work, you tell him it probably won’t. But you reassure him that if it doesn’t, you’ll take it back to the nether to let it “live” out the rest of it’s days. (Do zombies live?) Ranboo spends the night in your attic with the piglin. He’s pretty sweet. Regardless you tell him to not keep his hopes up too high.

Next morning, it worked! You “dub thee Michael!” Ranboo is relieved. There’s a kid living in your house now.

There’s a kid living in his house now. The timeline becomes unclear at this point since I’m still figuring it out. But now that Michael is in the picture Tubbo starts getting worried. He realizes he has no way of protecting him. Maybe the syndicate come visit Snowchester and that shocks him into thinking about the nukes again. And so Tubbo starts throwing himself into projects again. And it starts getting ✨bad ✨

Honestly, It’s been really fun figuring out how Tubbo deteriorates because everything is so internal with him compared to Tommy. It’s obvious with Tommy, you could see him visibly fall apart (think his exile skins, he stops feeding himself, he doesn’t care when he takes damage) But with Tubbo it isn’t so obvious, atleast not right away. Sure his eye bags get darker and he stares off into space for a little too long. But he still looks put together. (Habitable maybe. Or a learned skill.)

Maybe he eventually gets the nukes working but they’re not as successful as he wanted them to be and that guts him. He takes it as another failure. What if he’s just cursed? Is everything he cares about forever doomed to feel like holding water in his hands? What is wrong with him?

I’m gonna share a song and explain this next part using its lyrics because I’m so ILL over it, it’s the most di!tubbo song ever. Throw on …Well, better than the alternative by Will Wood 👍

Tubbo’s feelings towards Michael is complicated… He absolutely loves him to death but he’s really apprehensive about being a dad. He has this fear that he’s going to somehow corrupt Michael and or fail to keep him safe. So he ends up becoming emotionally distant from him and at his worst he gives him up completely to Ranboo.

I think Ranboo and Tubbo get married as a joke at first. But Ranboo continues to love him so unconditionally and honestly and Tubbo catches a crush, which is absolute HELL for him at first sjdhdj. I imagine him being arospec so this crush is a completely new and surprising feeling and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t, and keeps playing it as a joke even as their relationship develops.

Also the repeat of “everybody’s up on everybody’s business” is very fitting for describing the server. There’s things to be developed here I just haven’t yet… I’m just thinking about the possibilities like the egg, the syndicate, las nevadas… hmmm

This song is begging to be made into an animatic because I can imagine Tubbo screaming at Tommy during this part. He was just trying to help the best way he could… yet things still end badly, and everyone ends up hurt… di!clingy oh di!clingy, they’re such a mess. A bitter, angry, grieving mess. Wait ok i wasn’t planning on writing grieving there but then my next thought was “who are they grieving?” EACH OTHER. THEY’RE GRIEVING EACH OTHER. o(-(

Ok that’s it. Phew that was a lot of writing. Here’s some drawings for your time

[maochira]

Happy birthday to me! - uhm, us. (twin!Shidou & twin!reader)

Synopsis: You weren't willing to miss out on celebrating your birthday with your brother, only because he's in Blue Lock at the moment. And you surprising Shidou is definitely the best present you ever gave him.

Characters appearing: Shidou, Rin, Karasu, Zantetsu, Loki, Tokimitsu, Nanase (PxG, basically)

Tags: gn!twin!reader, reader looks very similar to Shidou, soft!Shidou at the end, a bit of swearing, this is during the Neo Egoist League

This is the last part of my Shidou birthday countdown event! Aka, it's his and my birthday <3

You've celebrated every single one of your birthdays together with your twin and you weren't willing to end this streak only because he's in Blue Lock at the moment.

It definitely took a lot of back and forth and tons of convincing, but you somehow managed to get the permission to visit Shidou on your birthday.

The thing is, not once has he mentioned having a twin to any of his teammates. So you can imagine everyone's surprise when you run onto the soccer field out of nowhere while the team is at practice.

"Ryu!" You call his name as you jump on him, tackling him to the ground. "Happy birthday!"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Your brother asks in surprise, but he looks happy to see you.

"Fuck. There's two of them." Rin curses under his breath, but still loud enough for his teammates to hear.

"Hell yeah! There's two of them!" Karasu cheers.

Zantetsu adjusts his glasses and tries to sound intelligent. "Well uhm, technically they're one of each. Except for if one of them is a clone."

"Well, I don't think one of them is a clone..." Nanase adds to that and quickly afterwards he finds himself listening to a very unlogical explanation by Zantetsu why neithet you more Shidou is a clone. Even though the most obvious explanation would be that cloning isn't possible.

Rin decides to ignore what Zantetsu is talkibg about and looks over at Loki, expecting for practice to continue soon. But unfortunately for him, Loki has decided to end practice a bit earlier today so you and your brother get to celebrate.

Rin already knows he's not going to join that. Instead, while the rest of the team and you go over to one of the rooms that can be used for your celebration, he's staying on the field to continue practicing on his own.

"I didn't know Shidou has a twin." Karasu says while taking a closer look at you. "Damn, you look very similar to him."

"You never told them about me?" You say to your brother, acting as if you're offended by this. "Ryu! Everyone should know about your favourite person!"

"I never thought it was necessary to let them know!" Shidou sounds defensive, but he's joining in on the joke.

"Never thought it was necessary? Oh come on!"

Before your brother gets to talk back, Tokimitsu gets between you and Shidou to interrupt your 'argument' because he believes both of you are being serious.

"G-guys calm down- Hey uhm, (Y/N)?" He sounds as if he's unsure about pronouncing your name right. "Maybe... your brother never got the chance to tell us about you? But... you seem very nice."

Even though he misunderstood the situation, Tokimitsu's words immediately melt your heart. So you can't help but pull him into a hug.

"Ryu! Your friend here is so cute!" You giggle and hug Tokimitsu a little too tight, barely letting him breathe. Also, calling him "cute" put a bright blush on Tokimitsu's face which he's definitely going to get teased about as soon as you're gone.

The celebration itself isn't something that special. The team gathered some snacks and put on some music, but besides that there's not much going on. Well, you did get to talk to all of your brother's teammates and got to know them a little bit better, so that's something.

But you don't mind it not being a big and special party. It feels nice to just see your brother again.

Also, at some point you notice Rin joining in the room. But he just stands there and doesn't do much. Although sometimes, he looks as if he's about to approach you but never acrually does it.

At some point a bit later, you somehow find yourself talking to Loki. "I hope my brother isn't causing you too much trouble. I know how overwhelming he can get."

"Oh no, don't worry." Loki responds with a smile. "I've found my way to manage everything, somehow."

"Are you sure? I mean, he is a handful to handle."

"I heard that!" Shidou, who's standing a few meters away from you, calls out.

"I'm telling the truth, idiot!" You yell back.

And that's hos the sibling banter starts once again. Except this time Karasu joins in, just for the fun of it.

Time passes by way faster than you'd like it to. It feels like barely an hour has passed by when you realize it's almost time to leave. In no way you're leaving the small mess that was created.

While cleaning up, you end up in a little conversation with Nanase. It's not much, but he's so sweet, you pull him into a hug like you did with Tokimitsu. Those two definitely have won a little place in your heart.

Saying goodbye to your brother was a whole thirty minute process. More and more hugs, more and more goodbyes, and generally just repeating how much you'll miss each other over and over. But in the end, Shidou lets you go from his embrace - his hugs are just as strong as yours are - and you leave the room to walk down the hallway.

And just as you're about to open the door to leave, you hear someone running after you. You expected it to be your brother or maybe Karasu, but no. It's Rin. Definitely a surprise to end the day - but not one to complain about.

He looks a little embarrassed but is trying to hife that. "I haven't uh. I haven't said happy birthday to you so... Happy Birthday."

A soft smile spreads across your face. "Thank you, Rin."

And then, you turn around to open the door but stop once again when you hear someone else's footsteps running in your direction. Just this time you don't even get to turn around.

Suddenly, you feel your brother hugging you from behind, causing you to let out a little chuckle. "Oh Ryu..."

His arms around you tighten a little more as je pulls you closer. "Thank you for coming... I miss you already."

Taglist (sign-up link): @starhrtz @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @mafuyudonutt @acacIa @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @ririgards @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser

[indecisive-dizzy]

Alright the Gravity Falls brain rot is kicking in (aka I watched a 4hr video overanalyzing ATOTS <3 iykyk)

So have a loosely thought out concept of a hypothetical Welcome Home x Gravity Falls au with my "Hear me out!"s This is a long one, you've been warned <3

Wally - Dipper

Sally - Mabel

Julie - Stanley

Frank - Stanford

Eddie - Soos

Barnaby - Wendy

Poppy - Abuelita

Howdy - Gideon

Home - Bill???

Ok hear me out! (under the cut) Please ignore typos <3

Very quick clarification! For this au everyone is at least in their teens and I'm gonna add their ages as I elaborate. Ok? Ok!

Gonna Start with Poppy and Eddie. In this hypothetical au Poppy is Not Eddie's grandmother. Originally I thought of assigning Poppy the role of Lazy Susan but I wanted her to have a closer connection to the rest of the cast. And Abuelita fit the role well enough for me! She's just a sweet homebody who wants to knit and bake in peace. Eddie tells her all about work and Wally and Sally visit. <3

So Poppy and Eddie live together as Roommates/Family. Poppy took Eddie in as a teen (16ish) when she was in her early 20s (22-23?) He views her as a big sister. And she views him as a little brother. Anxiety siblings <3 (yes I hc Eddie has anxiety) Eddie started working for the shack soon after being taken under Poppy's wing. He's a tad forgetful and clumsy but is a very reliable handy man and a good friend! He's got a big heart and worries about Julie sometimes.

Currently, as in the time the au takes place, Eddie is 24 and Poppy is 30-31.

Julie and Frank would in fact make a Fantastic Mabel and Dipper. Tbh I think I've seen the comparison before. Which is exactly why I'm not doing it! They're not twins here but they are childhood friends and very close in age, Frank being slightly older. Currently, Julie is 57(?) and Frank is 58(?). (Ages aren't confirmed, all I know is I want them to be A Bit younger than the Stans. Currently this would put them in their late 20s at the time of the portal incident)

I feel like people sometimes forget that Frank is not against resorting to violence lol. Which is great for post portal Ford (and maybe Paranoia era Ford. bbg was not afraid to use that crossbow.) And Julie is a girl bossing business woman! She's scamming people selling breen to the tourists! Whatever that is! Tbh Big inspo for this decision is Relativity Falls, like I said these two make for great mystery twins.

So! Wally (15) as a teenage Dipper! It's just Wally but his curiosity is bumped to 100. Still the same lil guy but he's got a hyperfixation on the supernatural and cryptids. Maybe he hasn't quite figured out his style yet, maybe he's a bit more awkward, I dunno.

He kinda didn't want to spend his summer here but ends up enjoying himself as he makes friends and gets to over indulge his curiosity.

Sally (15) is Wally's adopted sister! By sheer coincidence they have the same birthday but Sally always points out that she's older because she was "born at sunrise!" She's very adventurous and is often the one leading their escapades. I imagine she meets this aus equivalent of Candy and Grenda at the local theater. Very much wants to be her own person, separating herself from the Adopted Twins thing. Not in a bad way! She loves Wally very much but wants people to see her as Sally! Not just "Wally's Sister."

Barnaby (22) is very laid back and so is Wendy. Yeah I don't actually have a lot to say? Um. He does the bare minimum work but is a good friend to Julie. He's real observant and can tell she's not always as bubbly as she seems But she's also his boss so he doesn't pry. Instead just offering a distraction or a rare bit of advice..

Oh! There's a parallel with him and Wally and Wendy and Dipper. Except Wally just wants to be friends with Barnaby but doesn't quite know how to communicate that. Maybe he just kinda follows him around the shack hoping to figure out what to say?

Thinking their relationship is literally the recent quote from Clown's Q&A: "Barnaby meeting Wally felt like business as usual, and Wally meeting Barnaby felt like meeting the whole world." yeah that's it. Sums it up Perfectly <3 Wally thinks Barnaby is really cool and friendly. And he wants a friend who treats him like he's mature. Like he's 15, not 5. And Barnaby does that right out the gate. Calls him kid but obviously doesn't treat him like a small child.

Ahem. Capitalism. Howdy's (21) a filthy capitalist and wants the shack for Profit. I don't think he'd resort to literal breaking and entering to get the deed? Can't make Profit from jail if he gets caught. But he's definitely trying to buy the property off of Julie. Maybe we stray further from Gravity Falls canon and say he gets an early redemption bc I'm a sucker for this goof. It would be sometime after taking the shack (and losing it.) Oh but he does summon the Evil. Can't break the law if the law doesn't account for Interdimensional Demons!

On that note, Yes Howdy could be Stanley. But again. That's the easy way out! Also in my brain that would make,, idk Barnaby? Ford. And I couldn't do that.

Ok final (wh) character. Home. So I'm on the side of Home Isn't Evil/The Antagonist. He's just a guy (house)! A sassy fella! But someone's gotta be the Eldritch Horror and Unfortunately, Home,,, well he's a lil quirky!

But idk How to incorporate Home. They speak in onomatopoeias! They're a house! Is Home now a Vague 2D House Shaped Demon? Do the have Limbs? Wear a top hat? Do they talk now? Home speaking words feels cursed. But I genuinely don't what else to do? Maybe we suspend our disbelief and they still talk through banging shutters. Everyone just understands them bc Cartoon logic pffff maybe they have subtitles projected into your brain that only you can see idk lol.

So obviously there's Way more GF characters than there are WH characters. insert characters [(y/n)] aren't my thing for aus so that's a no go for me personally. I imagine the town is filled with characters we've heard of outside the neighbors (Ma Beagle of course lives in town.) Maybe some of Howdy's family is here who knows. And the rest would be randos or ocs I guess! Tho I don't believe Julie's siblings are in town.

Anywho this is all hypothetical and I made it up and retyped things as I went along. I wanted to ramble some nonsense so I did! If you read it, Awesome! You sure did that!

[thedoctorsthings]

Power to the king | MYG chapter 3.

Okay change of plans. Drama is coming next chapter. I thought it was time to give our characters a moment to feel good, so enjoy some fluff. and yes, hnefatafl is a real ancient scandinavian game, look it up.

content warning: none

fluff, idiots in love (they have no idea), a bit of angst as well because i'm still me.

wc: 4,1K

It's been a few weeks since the king’s outburst. The morning after when you were mulling over the night before over breakfast, you remembered something his father had said. In the moment you hadn’t really noticed because you were too busy being angry over what the king had said to you, or more correctly, about you. He had said that the reason you hadn’t been blessed with child was something Yoongi did. Since this realisation you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. What could that mean? What had Yoongi done that would be able to call the wrath of the gods over him? He wasn’t the nicest person, that was for sure, but he didn’t seem like a man to commit war crimes or something along those lines. You decided you would ask the one person that might answer.

You knocked on his doors: “come in”, his youthful voice sounded. You pushed open the door as quiet as possible. You didn’t know why, there was no reason to be quiet, but something about this castle made you feel like you had to. Every person here seemed to be walking on eggshells constantly. “Ah, my princess, or maybe I shouldn’t say ‘my’. I might cause our future king to throw a hissy fit”. “Good morning, your highness”, you laughed. Jungkook got up from the desk he’d been sitting at. He turned to the window and pointed: “I think there’s a fox’ nest in front of my window. I’ve got half a mind to steal one of the cubs to keep as a pet”, he smiled. “I don’t think the mother would just let you get away with that”, you said while peering out the window to catch a glimpse of the nest. “I can fight”, Jungkook retaliated. “I’d have to take her side Jungkook, a mother shouldn’t have to give up her children for your pleasure”, you tease the young prince. “alright, alright missy, why are you here?” You laugh at the nickname: “I have a question”. “shoot”. “A few weeks ago, at dinner when your father got angry because I’m not pregnant yet, he said something about something Yoongi did. He said it’s the reason we don’t have a child yet. What was that about?” Jungkook’s face darkened and for a second there was nothing left of the funny, joking Jungkook you had come to know. “I can’t tell you that story, it’s not my place”. You didn’t really know what to say to that so you just waited. The seriousness of his words hung between you two. “If you really want an answer you should ask my mother, besides I’m too young to really remember”. You nodded and lest the room.

Outside Jungkook’s door you nearly bumped into your husband who had apparently been standing quite close to the door. “What were you giggling about in there? I could hear you from across the hall”, he says with his cold voice. When you look up into his eyes you expect to see anger, but instead you’re met with a soft sort of concern. “I could ask you what you were giggling about with that maid as well”, you snarled before walking away. Yoongi sighed. He was starting to fear you would never get past this. He knocks on his brother’s door, but doesn’t wait for an answer before barging in. “What was that about?” Jungkook barely looks up: “she just had some questions about the castle, don’t worry about it”.

That night after dinner you decide to visit the queen. From you limited conversation with Yoongi you had learned that the queen slept until noon and then went to bed past midnight. You had barely spoken to the queen, except for one time on your wedding day, but that day had gone by in such a haze that you barely remembered what her face looked like. You knew she had poor health, that her bones were frail and her skin thin. She spent her days inside and in her bed. You complained about being stuck, but you could barely stand to imagine being married to the king and having to stay in bed all day. It sounded like torture. At dinner you had already been even less at ease than you normally were, but now that you were standing in front of her door you felt like your knees might give out any moment. You took a deep breath and knocked on the thick wooden door. It took a while for an answer to come and in the mean time you noticed the door was decorated with beautiful woodcarving. The scene was a that of a mother bear and her cubs. Finally a weak voice called: “come in”. You slowly walked into the room. The queen was laying on her bed leaning on a dozen pillows. Her silky black hair cascaded over them like a lake in the moonlight. The moon shone over her face through the window and it gave her a ghostly look. She looked like one gust of wind might carry her out of the window and send her floating into the sun. years later you would be telling your children this really happened.

“Ah, my daughter in law, how nice to finally meet you. Properly at least”, she smiled at you, and you felt all the tension leave your body. How could such a soft woman be married to such a beast. She gestured to the wooden chair next to her bed and you sat down. “You’re a beautiful girl, how is my son treating you?” She looked so much like Yoongi it was uncanny. You should probably count yourself lucky that he didn’t look this much like his father. However, the answer to her question was hard to find. For a moment you stared at the stone floor before the queen answered for you. “He’s not the most loving husband, is he? I know my son”. You looked up and smiled at her: “No he’s not, but I find it hard to describe him”. After this a torrent of words came flowing out of you. You told her about everything you had been through with Yoongi. How he had treated you, how you had treated him and about the maid. At the story of the maid her face contorted into a scowl: “I should teach that boy some manners, he’s been under the influence of his father too much since I’ve gotten sick”. At the end you had arrived at that night a couple weeks ago. When the king had lashed out at you for not being pregnant yet. When you asked your question about what Yoongi had done the queen was quiet for a long while. “Yoongi had an older brother once. He was only a year older and when they four and five years old we went on a picknick outside the castle. We were eating close to a river, a river with wild currents. They were playing and I lost sight of them for only a minute, one minute to change our lives forever. I don’t know exactly what happened because Yoongi was only four and too shocked to be able to tell the story clearly, but from what I know, Yoongi had pushed his brother. It wasn’t on purpose, but that didn’t matter. It was hard enough, my oldest son fell into the river and never came out. Minjun was his name. My husband found the perfect heir in him. He was strong and loud like him, when he lost him that meant he had to settle for Yoongi as his heir. The quiet frail son he would rather forget and hide forever. I don’t think the king ever really loved Minjung. He just wanted to shape him into a younger version of him. After that day the kind turned harsh and angry. That in its turn made Yoongi cold and harsh as well. It’s not his fault, but I can’t seem to get that through to him”.

The queen’s face had turned grey while telling this story. It pained her and you felt guilty for making her relive it. “I’m sorry that I asked, I know this must not be easy to tell”. “It’s alright child, someone would have to tell you some day, and I’d rather I do it than my son”. You let the story sit in between you for a minute. You heard the crackling of the fire in her room and an owl warned intruders on his territory.  “I know my son isn’t the easiest, but I think he could open up if you give him time”.  You knew this was true, but you were so tired. Life in this castle was so exhausting and having a husband that would barely look at you didn’t make anything easier. “I don’t know if I have the skill to make that happen. Your majesty, I’m so tired”. Finally admitting this out loud loosened something in you and before you could stop yourself you noticed tears had started to stain your cheeks. The queen looked at you with an expression full of compassion. “I’m sorry, that this place has been so hard on you. I know exactly what you’re going through. This marriage was set up by the king and I’m begging you, don’t let him get to you. Don’t let that man kill you like he did me. Don’t give up, don’t let this place take the life from your eyes. It gets easier if you just give him time. Soon my daughter will come back from her education abroad and you’ll have another woman around. From day one I hoped that you would do what I couldn’t, staying strong”. You simply nodded and let the queen hold your hand for a while longer. It felt so good to finally feel cared for again. To be able to open up was something you didn’t know you needed so bad.

Instead of going straight back to your rooms after leaving the queen you decided to take a detour through the gardens. You needed time to think. The queen’s words had given you some semblance of hope. She says Yoongi could be warmed up to you, and who would now him better than his own mother? But this would require you to be nice to him, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that. He had been sneaking of with that maid, and who knows how many more there were that you didn’t see. You walk on the moonlit path between the flower bushes. As you run your hand over some flowers your mind is going a thousand miles an hour. He had humiliated you, isolated you and forced you to never show how you felt. The queen had made another good point however, this marriage wasn’t Yoongi’s idea. It had been set up by his father who you now know to have not an ounce of compassion for your husband, or anyone else for that matter. It was true that Yoongi was a man and could thus never feel as trapped as you, but he could just as well be burning with rage towards this whole ordeal. Living with a father who never forgave you for accidentally sending the brother you could never live up to into an early grave couldn’t be an easy life. When you arrive at the big oak tree you’ve made your decision. You would try to be kinder again, invite him to do things with you, and maybe even open up about your old life. If there was anything that could be done to make this life easier you would try. You might even find an ally in your husband. You could fend of his father together.

You had been standing at under the huge tree for a while when you heard an alarming sound. the sound of something heavy sweeping through the air accompanied by grunts and uneven breathing made the air in your lungs halt. You slowly round the tree, careful not to make a noise. The origin of the sounds is no other than the king. All on his own he seemed to be fighting invisible enemies, swirling his heavy sword through the air in a fury, while standing in the empty temple a couple of metres from the tree. His majesty lunges for the stone pillars one by one. He seems to be in a haze, his face contorted in genuine anger. What could possibly be the point of this? The strange sight had left you frozen in your tracks. That was until the king abruptly looked you right in the eye. You turned as quick as the wind and ran back to your rooms as quietly as you could. Although something told you that man had not seen you. He had looked right through you. You had never seen that look in a person’s eyes. There was something chilling about the empty rage you had just seen.

The next morning you wake up tired. After mulling over the possible reasons for the king’s behaviour you had finally fallen asleep, but your peace didn’t last long. Countless dreams of Yoongi pushing his brother in the river had kept you up. You had dreamt the same thing so many times that after a while it was you pushing Yoongi in the river.  You shook the sleep from your eyes and got ready for breakfast. Once you’ve taken your seat in the rough wooden chairs of the dining table you eat in silence like every day. While the king rambles about possible conflicts that could cause war you look out the huge windows of the dining table. They look out on the courtyard and on good days they bathe the cold room in sunlight. This day Yoongi is enveloped in a beam of light, and it makes him look even more hauntingly beautiful than normal. When you’re staring at your husband Jungkook speaks up. “I’m going to pick up our sister at the port today. I thought that maybe Y/N could come with me. It will be good for her to be seen among the people again”. You perk up at this idea. Every day since the festival you have yearend to walk outside of these walls again. The king barely acknowledges the suggestion and just lazily waves a hand at Yoongi, signalling that this is his decision to make; obviously not yours, you think to yourself. Yoongi stays unmoving for a second before saying: “You’re right Jungkook, that would be a good idea”. It comes out through a clenched jaw, and you don’t miss the way his hands grip his knife a bit tighter. This was getting frustrating. If he was so upset by you doing things with Jungkook then why didn’t he try to spend time with you. Did he just want you to sit patiently, doing nothing all day? Jungkook looks at you expectantly and you chirp: “I would love to meet your sister”.

You’re sitting in a carriage with Jungkook on your way to the port, and the people have been flocking together in the streets to watch you go. Jungkook had decided on an open carriage because the people had not seen the royal family in a while, and he felt they needed to seem accessible. On top of that they had not seen the princes for several months, since she had spent the winter in a far away castle, being thought how to behave like a princess. Apparently, she had had some trouble being the perfect polite princess. You had decided you liked her the minute Jungkook told you this. You wave at the people and one of them even calls your name. You’re surprised they even knew it. When you arrive at the wharf where the princess’ ship is docked the guard helps you out of the carriage. You had picked up somewhere that his name was Namjoon, he was one of the robust men you’d ever seen and normally he exclusively guarded the king, but this was apparently important enough for the king to send out one of his personal guards. Guarding the king was a great honour and as apposed to the regular guards this position could only be taken by young men of noble blood. There were two king’s guards. Namjoon’s counterpart was a friendly looking man named Hoseok.

 You thanked him and positioned yourself next to Jungkook as you waited for the princes to ascend from the ship. She appeared, accompanied by two guards and it was as if the sun shone a bit brighter. By Odin the genes in this family, they certainly did not come from the king. She gracefully walked down the plank with a serious expression on her face, but after standing in front of Jungkook for a second her face broke into a smile. “Jungkook, I’m so happy to see you!”, she exclaimed while pulling him into an enthusiastic embrace. Jungkook laughed and directed her attention towards you. “Sister, we sent you a message that Yoongi had gotten married a couple months back, I know, we didn’t think it was possible either. This is your new sister-in-law. She looks at you, smiling, and then reaches out to kiss your cheeks. This was a standard greeting in your kingdom, but no one had done it to you in so long that it almost felt foreign. “You have to tell me everything about yourself”, the princess said as she was being helped into the carriage. And so, you did. You and her talked so much on the way back that Jungkook barely managed to get a word in.

Yoongi was sitting at his desk, brooding. Not that he normally did something different, but he was brooding harder than ever. His wife was out welcoming his sister with his brother. Yoongi was sure that you liked spending time with Jungkook a million times more than you did with him. Yoongi had a wife and she hated spending time with him, and the worst part was, no one would blame you. He wouldn’t want to spend time with him either. If he had been married away to some cold, moody man in a different city he would be pissed of all the time too. Especially if that stupid man couldn’t keep it in his pants long enough to wait for him. He beat himself up over it every day. Why did he think it was a smart idea to run off with a maid. He had a wife for god’s sake and patience. He could easily have waited until you were ready, but life in this castle was so damn lonely. He had made a habit out of fooling around with staff. Not being touched by anyone since the tender age of 11 had had its toll on him, although he would never admit it. Now he was sitting here, with a wife but still alone, getting pissed of while she was of with his much more charming brother.

“Are you trying to rip of the arm rest of your chair?”, Jungkook had barged in, without knocking, of course. “Yes, I was hoping to use it to swing at you”, Yoongi said while taking his hand of the arm rest, which he had previously been gripping tightly, lost in thought. “Oh, look who woke up with a sense of humour this morning”, Jungkook chuckled before stepping further into the room. “Our sister is back. I told her to wait in the reception hall, but I’m not sure how long Y/N can hold her of”. He had barely uttered his sentence or there she was, shining in his doorway. Yoongi broke into a smile, the first real one in many months. He stood up, seconds before being engulfed in an overwhelming embrace. “Yoongi!”, his sister exclaimed while jumping in his arms. “I see they didn’t teach you appropriate greetings at that school”, he smiled. By Odin, he loved his sister. “I did very well and polite meeting your wife earlier, Jungkook tell him I did very well meeting his wife”. “She did very well meeting Y/N” So now Jungkook was calling his wife by her first name?

Later that day dinner was livelier than ever. Don’t be mistaken, the king still did very well taking down the princess’ cheer, but he never managed to get her completely quiet like he could with the rest of the castle’s inhabitants. You spend the whole evening talking to the princess and Jungkook. Yoongi, to his dismay, barely managed to say anything at all. This wasn’t because there was no time for him to force a word in. He simply didn’t know how to engage in chitter chatter like other people. Once again you were being brought to laughter by his brother instead of him, and this time there was a second sibling to prove to him how easy it was to talk to you.  When looking down at his dinner plate he made a decision. He was going to do better by you. He was going to ask you to spend time with him. He was going to ask about you and your past.

That night you’re pacing up and down your room. This whole day you had talked to people more than you ever had in this place. The arrival of the princess had made you realise something. You were capable of talking to members of this family and even form friendships with them. How much harder could Yoongi be. He was raised by the same parents. There must be something of the other two in him as well. After crossing the room a few more times you decided. You were going to his rooms and ask him to play the board game you knew he loved again. He had done accepted last time, and you were going to have to take a chance on something sometime. With all the confidence you can muster up you step to your door and resolutely open it. “Good evening”, you’re greeted by your husband’s chest. By the looks of it he had been standing unnaturally close to the door, and about to knock as well because his hand was still doltishly raised in a fist. He clears his throat before saying: “I was wondering if you wanted to play Hnefatafl again…tonight”. You take a moment to recover from the near heart attack you had just had before stuttering: “yes, yes I would”.

Once seated at your little table with the board in between you Yoongi asked: “Where were you going?” you hesitate a bit. “Uhm, to the bathroom”, you lied. After playing the game for a while in silence you decided you couldn’t take it anymore and had to say something. “Recently I visited your mother”. “Oh, what did you talk about?” Quick what was something you could’ve discussed with the queen that wasn’t as embarrassing as your crippling loneliness: “The festival and the druids’ vision”. “Of course, much to discuss on that topic”, was all Yoongi managed to get out. While he mentally cursed himself for his clumsiness you said: “When I was walking back to my rooms I ran into your father”. “Are you okay?”, Yoongi chuckled, only half joking. “I don’t think he saw me”, You left a moment of silence to look for the right words to describe what you had seen. “He was practising sword fighting I think”. “Let me guess. He was fighting air”. You looked up at him suddenly: “Yes exactly”. Yoongi sighed. “Don’t worry too much about it, he’s done it before. In fact, I’m not sure how much sanity he has left in that brain”. You played your turn before saying: “He looked at me for a moment. There was something in his eyes that shook me the core”. Yoongi looked you in the eye with a serious expression on his face. “Next time tell me. I want to make sure that man never puts his hands on you or inflicts any harm on you, and I can only do that if you tell me, the instant he does anything suspicious”. His words sent a warm feeling down your spine.

You had promised to tell him next time and a few moments later you had beat him in hnefatafl, so all in all a pretty good night. He got up and shook your hand. “That was a good game. I’ll have to come back tomorrow to restore my honour though”. You smiled: “I would like that”, and with that your husband left the room. That night you went to bed feeling good for the first time in months. There was no way for you to know, but the crown prince did the same thing.

@viankiss @lifeless-firefly @emerald-notes @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @jjkwifestyle

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Erin/Julius, grudge match

For the prompt: Julius' exit from the Oilers

Julius was never going to stay. Erin doesn’t really know how anyone could have expected otherwise. Sure, she knows the expectation, that if you’re a franchise saviour you stay with the franchise, give it your all, saw that play out with Bryce even though fans acted like he was team whipping boy instead of franchise saviour half the time.

But the thing is, the Oilers have been beyond saving for the entire time Julius has been there. There’s only so much one guy can do, no matter how good they are. And Julius is so good, and he tries so hard. Everything he can do, he has done, nobody could say otherwise, doesn’t slack off on the ice in any game situation, works to win the team games. But they don’t win, most games. They don’t win, because they’ve got a mismanaged team and what the old boys club might call a loser culture. Nobody’s expecting to win games, the players included, and they’re usually right.

Erin’s not like, saying that out loud any time soon, but whatever. It’s true. She likes some of the Oilers as people, has a game buddy in Farmer’s girlfriend, who is one of the funniest people she’s ever met. She likes the city okay, close enough to pop in on mom and dad but far enough they don’t really pop in on her, except for the occasional visit when the Canucks come to town, because Jared’s indisputably their favourite child. There’s nothing personal about Julius’ decision to move on, on his end or hers.

Well, mostly. Erin’s never understood how Deslauriers has kept his job so long, considering he hasn't made the Oilers any better, but they’re not worse, not that that’s saying much. Unfortunately he’s still in charge of the whole operation, and she’s a teensy bit biased against him due to the whole being raging homophobe who tried to destroy her brother’s life because he was gay thing.

Like, just a smidge. Giving the TV the middle finger every time they show his face level. Julius has been smart enough never to introduce them level. Erin’s the only one allowed to destroy her brother’s life, and she sure as shit would never do that because of Bryce, who’s like, the best thing about Jared. By far Jared’s best life decision, full stop, was somehow winning over Bryce Marcus despite his horrible personality.

Well, after adopting Julius. Erin’s pretty grateful for that one, to be honest.

The summer before Julius’ contract expires, he goes into contract talks, though he has zero intention of staying. The talk is basically ‘thanks, but no thanks'.

Erin has no clue why it takes so many meetings to get that across; maybe they’re being too polite about it, or the Oilers are being a little too obtuse, because ‘no thank you’ is three words, as are ‘please trade me’. But after those talks end Oilers management doesn’t say anything to the media except that ‘they’re working on something that works for both parties’, which must be difficult, considering Julius’ current ask is ‘no amount of money will make me stay’, which she’s pretty sure is hard to match.

Or like. Maybe there is enough money. Theoretically, there could be a magic number of money. Like, a mindboggling amount of money might do it. But they haven’t offered him it. They’ve offered him fair value, market rate, but the thing about market value is that the market’s going to offer him that too, and testing the market means he doesn’t have to play for Edmonton anymore.

But nobody gets it. Going into his final contract season, the media’s talking about how much it’ll take to re-sign him, how sweet a deal they’ll have to make it, and she almost wishes that someone would leak the fact he isn’t going to stay so that fans would feel a little less betrayed down the line. But apparently the Oilers front office is a tight ship, or they’re still firmly in denial, hoping Julius is going to change his mind.

Erin’s never seen Julius change his mind on anything big. Or even little. He hates watermelon. He’s never actually tried watermelon, but he’s decided he hates it, so obviously trying it would be silly. This is the person they’re expecting to change his mind. The person Erin has debated force feeding watermelon, because he thinks it tastes like watermelon flavour and nothing tastes like watermelon flavour, she doesn’t know what the fuck watermelon flavour tastes like, but it is not watermelon.

Anyway, he doesn’t change his mind. Shockingly.

A week before the trade deadline Erin walks in the door to find Julius sitting at the dining room table in the half dark of twilight, chin on his fist. He looks like a stock photo: ‘sad man brooding’ or ‘gloomy Finn’ or something, so defeated that Erin doesn’t have the heart to give him shit. Well, almost. She wouldn’t want him to get a big head or anything.

“Pretending you’re the protagonist in a sad indie movie, huh?” Erin asks.

“I don’t know that one, protagonist,” Julius says, then, when she turns the overhead light on, “Ow!”

“Main character syndrome,” Erin says, as Julius squints at her, looking betrayed. He’s not a vampire — he’ll survive a little light.

“Is that what you said Jared has?” Julius asks, and Erin laughs. She can’t even remember saying that, though it must have been years ago. Years ago Erin was right, though.

“Probably,” Erin says, leaning on the table so Julius is forced to look at her instead of into the abyss or whatever. “What’s up?”

“They’re going to boo me for the rest of my career,” Julius says.

“Flames fans don’t even boo Bryce anymore,” Erin says. “Rest of your career’s a stretch.”

“That isn’t true,” Julius says.

“Okay, they don’t boo like, every time he has the puck,” Erin says. That’s basically the same, right? He has to earn the boos by scoring, or assisting, or holding onto the puck a little too long, or — anyway, they boo a whole lot less than they did initially, which is her point. People have short memories, and, more importantly, they’re lazy. Hating someone takes too much energy, long term. They’ll have found someone else to hate by then — some other poor, talented kid doing his best while he’s stuck on a team with no ambition.

“Have they traded you?” Erin asks.

“I think they’re about to,” Julius says.

“Like gut feeling or—“ Erin says.

“My agent told me to keep my phone close,” Julius says.

So probably actually about to, then. She knew it was coming, unless Deslauriers was stupid and stubborn enough to keep Julius until the end, let him walk for free. Which she wouldn’t put past the guy or anything, but still. It was coming.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” Erin says.

“I know,” Julius says.

“You want this,” she says. Getting traded at the deadline, people get a chance to get used to him in another uniform. If he stays until the end, the Oilers don’t get anything for him, but the Oilers fans are going to expect him to stay, hate him if he doesn't. Even more than they will this way, she means.

“I do,” Julius says. “You’ll come with me, right?”

“As long as it’s to a decent city, sure,” Erin says, and the offence on his face is exactly what he deserves for asking such a ridiculous fucking question in the first place.

[stillfrownyclownlol]

I will also talk about Tyler because he's also not normal about stuff 🫠

Right from the start you get these signs he's protective to a detrimental level lol

(BTW Aidlyn scene cuz I'm not normal about them ❤️ The way he literally wraps his whole body in front of her sent me lmao. Mans got his leg around her and everything 🤡)

He's pretty much like this with Taylor in all their scenes. In the Sorrel House he puts his arm in front of her when they see the phantom (that he does not think is real, considering his reaction).

He also has a tendency to drag Taylor away from situations with out asking for her opinion on it 🫠 He just kinda assumes she will want to go with him. Like when he drags her out of the house after saying the phantom was just a prank.

Sir. PLEASE. Kinda possessive of you-

I don't think Red did this on purpose because like. She hasnt really brought up their culture/heritage or anything in the story so far lmao (I'm crying). But idk like just this behavior reminds me a lot of the guys in my family 🙃 I think Latino boys get kind of socialized to be more aggressive and protective of their families at their own expense. He definitely seems like the kind of brother to impose a curfew- He has control issues like. We all see it right? He's a control freak.

Obviously his dad dying has a lot to do with this. His mother took it extremely hard, so then Tyler "stepped up" to take care of both his mom AND his sister, he's been parentified since a very young age (he doesn't look older than 10 imo). I think he feels a need to "be the man of the house" so to speak. He genuinely does not seem to have any hard feelings towards his mom even tho she...you know, fucked up. if any of you know the "latino boys are mama boys" cliche, but.

yeah.

(I do think Taylor has more mom issues because she kinda resents how Tyler has been parentified and she's allowed herself to be angry at their mom for leaving them to fend for themselves)

Sidenote: It looks like his family is very isolated. Like, its strange that nobody came to help Marianna after Ethan died. This isn't always the case but usually Latinos have large families (my mom's family had to push together eight beds so all the cousins could sleep in one room lol) WHICH probably means Tyler's branch of the family is, so far, the first and only to have immigrated to the US. He's probably already a second or third generation tho, his mom has only one surname and he and his sister never seem to speak Spanish, so I don't think they learned it (probably some basics). I don't imagine they've ever been to Mexico except MAYBE when they were very young (its kinda rare to visit...since...it's so hard to get out of there in the first place...🫠 I dont think my parents have been to Venezuela in more than 20 years...but also Venezuela is in way worse condition, so...)

But yeah like. His protectiveness of Taylor is something that actively works against her and something she dislikes. She always looks upset when he drags her out of a situation or tells her what to do. She just wants to help :(

BABYYYYY 🥲

Ofc she never says anything because for most of her life Tyler has put himself in a position of authority and is her caretaker. It's hard to speak up to somebody when they constantly say "I'm doing this for your own good, for your own safety, for-" Whatever. Taylor always believes Tyler does everything for her own best interests, so... even when she doesn't feel good about something, she'll still listen to him. It's a veryyyyyy slippery slope that can quickly become toxic, if it isn't already. Because besides being her brother, he's put himself as her parent figure as well.

He does the thing. You know. Where parentified kids try to overcorrect so they kind of coddle their own children and don't let them do anything because they're scared to death something is gonna happen to them 💀

I don't really know what the point of this was I just wanted to talk about how possessive Tyler can be and how unhealthy his attachment style is 😭 If I write Tyler and Logan angst tho just know it's gonna involve Tyler being overprotective and Logan being Not Cool TM about it 🫠

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

Eddie time! 129 for 🧟:

---

Eddie quickly learns that, though there are many similarities between Maddie and her little brother, there is one considerable difference. At least when it comes to long drives. Maddie and Buck are both kind and brave and gentle. Lionhearted type people, to be sure. They’re both well-spoken and intelligent. Friendly. Except, whereas Maddie was perfectly fine letting long stretches of time pass in relative silence, Buck cannot seem to accomplish this. He likes to talk. A lot. 

It’s not that Eddie has a problem with chatty people. He doesn’t. Shannon was really chatty, back when they got along. Eddie tends to not know how to fill silences, even when he should, with anyone but his son. So having someone who seems to be very adept at it is generally a good thing. And really, it would be. Eddie might appreciate it, any other day. Just today? So soon after leaving his kid and so close to finding or not finding Shannon?  Today, Eddie just doesn’t have the necessary social energy or focus to respond properly. And it’s making him feel sort of rude.

“I haven’t been to Los Angeles since I moved back here from Peru,” Buck starts their drive by explaining. 

“Peru?” Eddie blinks, confused. He’s only half-listening.

“Yes!” Buck explains. “I spent half a year working at a resort in Peru. Like an all-inclusive. Mostly attracted college-age party crowds, you know?”

Not really. Eddie had a kid before his nineteenth birthday. The closest to a party vacation he got was the fact that there was a beer festival happening an hour away from the military hospital in Germany where he recovered from being shot. 

He doesn’t say this.

“Right,” he mumbles instead.

“So, yeah, anyway, I moved here from Peru, and got the flight from Lima to LAX, and that was literally the last time I was in Los Angeles.” Buck continues with his story. “I always told myself I’d go more but between the fire academy and working and dating, I never did anything touristy.” 

“Life sure gets busy,” Eddie mumbles affirmatively.

“Yep! And then the world ends.”

It’s easy to say that. That the world has ended. And in a lot of the ways that matter, it feels like it really has. But maybe the scariest part is that it hasn’t. Not entirely. The scariest part is that there’s just enough left that Eddie and everyone else still alive and not a fucking zombie can’t throw in the towel. There’s way too much to keep fighting for. 

“So, what about you, man?” Buck asks.

“Me?” Eddie asks.

“You been to L.A. before or is this gonna be your first time?”

Right. That’s what they’d been talking about. Or, rather, that’s what Buck had been talking about. Sort of. 

“Yeah, I’ve been,” Eddie answers. “My Tia… Pepa. She lives… Lived…”

He takes a struggled breath at the thought of referring to any of them in the past tense. 

“My Tia and her kids lived out here and my Abuela moved out when I was fifteen or sixteen,” Eddie continues. “We visited.”

Buck graciously skirts over the fact that Eddie has just struggled to mention the family he’s lost.

“Oh, hey, that’s cool,” he says instead. “So you’ve done the touristy stuff?”

“Mhm,” Eddie confirms. “Some of it.”

His lack of elaboration seems to disappoint Buck a little. 

Eddie finds that he does not like that muted, disappointed look. It makes him want to scramble to bring his easy smile back. Shoot. Now is not the time for a crush. Not that there ever has been a good time for it. Slowing down and letting himself feel anything would confirm what Eddie’s quite sure he already knows. What he has probably always known, on some level. 

He’s gay. 

He’s gay and he’s searching for his estranged wife with the very handsome, very talkative brother of the woman he’s entrusted his son to. 

Yeah, not a good time for a crush. Like, at all. 

And yet he finds himself talking to mollify Buck anyway.

“I liked Griffith Park and Runyon Canyon,” Eddie says. “I like hiking.”

Buck lights up again. Eddie finds it stupidly endearing.

“I like hiking, too!” He exclaims. This turns into a full story about a hiking trip through the Shenandoah Valley when he lived in Virginia. Seems like this guy has lived everywhere. 

Eddie sits back and listens as he talks, eventually finding the raspy, excited lilt of his voice comforting. He finds himself wondering, perhaps stupidly, if in another life, they might be the sort of people who are well-suited for one another. Someone to hike and be active with. Someone to fill his silences. 

Eddie blinks the thought away. It’s useless. Right now, he has to focus on the road ahead of him, not the road he never got to take. 

▪️▪️▪️

It’s a two hour and twenty minute drive from Sunport to Los Angeles in theory. Eddie thinks. He doesn’t actually know for certain. It’s about two hours from Santa Barbara and he tacked on the twenty minutes. He doesn’t have Google Maps anymore. And he doesn’t know how long it will take to reach Shannon’s last known address in the city. This is all just a fuck ton of guess work, really. 

In practice, it takes them longer. They make it past Ventura, driving the same way he and Maddie had come, without an issue. It’s once they’re on a new route towards the city that things start getting complicated. 

First, the bridge over the Santa Clara River is out on the 101. Eddie’s not sure how this happened. It has not been long enough for the structure to naturally decay. It looks sort of… Blown up? Like someone intentionally destroyed it. They have to circle back and head northeast until they find another option. 

Not long after that, before they even reach Camarillo, there’s a transport truck overturned on the highway. Normally Eddie would just drive on the grass around it, but they’re on a steep hill. One one side of the road, the ground juts out above them. On the other side, it drops off after a guard rail. They’re sort of fucked. 

“This is ridiculous,” Eddie complains as they turn back around.

“Haven’t you driven all over?’ Buck asks. 

“Just from Texas,” Eddie says.

“So haven’t you seen way worse?” Buck asks. “Maddie says you were attacked by lions.”

Eddie shudders at the memory.

[ladyosen]

Adeuce arranged marriage au plot bunny

Adeuce arranged marriage AU idea.  Arranged marriages are a common thing for mages in their world and Deuce and Ace’s moms arrange a marriage when they are like itty bitty babies.

They decide to bring them together every summer so that they wont be marrying complete strangers.  And maybe they’ll just naturally develop chemistry.

It goes about as well as one would expect lmao!  Really it’s a lot like canon, but maybe a little less hostile because kids.  But they kind of develop a like brother’s style relationship, you know as kids do.  Sometimes fighting like cats and dogs and other times they’re thick as thieves.

Then in middle school, Deuce goes through his deliquent phase and Ace is wtf.  and let’s face it, we know Ace wouldn’t tolerate that bullshit at all (even though he thinks Deuce looks really cool and kind of hot when he’s in bad boy mode.)  But they eventually have a big fight and both say some things and throw fists and spells and it’s pretty relationshipship ending?  And definitely engagement ending, right?

Like their parent’s don’t officially end it, but Deuce’s mom sees no point in going through with it when her son is being that kind of person.  Which probably feeds into the moment when he catches her crying over his bad behavior and has his big realization.  That and Deuce also has a lot of super truthful criticisms Ace made sticking in his head as well, so Deuce decides to change like in canon.

I’m not sure if during this time Ace dates that one girl he mentioned or not, because I actually feel like Ace is upright enough to not do that while engaged, though I can also see him being like “that’s something our parent’s decided.”  Also he’s mad and maybe curious and it goes like... in canon and he dumps her, also probably with a side realizing he’d have enjoyed hanging out with Deuce more.  And now Ace wishes he’d handled their fight differently even though he still thinks he was right.

Honestly, they’re both realizing they actually enjoyed each other’s company and those visits were the best part of summer vacation.  But well, they fucked it up and both have a little too much pride to just talk it out.  They don’t see each other that summer and it feels really damn lonely.

It’s only when they both get enroll in Night Raven College that they finally meet again.  Ace probably heard from his Mom about Deuce enrolling, but tried to play it off as nothing, because you know, we’re probalby not going to even be in the same dorm.  Deuce probably... some how managed not to hear it from his Mom.  She mentioned Ace was enrolled while he was half asleep or something and he forgot and she probably didn’t push him about it.

So when they see each other in the mirror chamber, they’re both dumbstruck.  Like... Ace is shocked by how much Deuce changed back to who he used to be.  Deuce is actually really glad to see Ace again and wants to like... clear the air and apologize.  But well they’re both prideful so it’s really awkward.  So like the prolouge chapter is them eventually clearing the air and making up and they like have big ex-boyfriend energy for the early part of the story (except they insist they’re not exes.)  Eventually at sometime someone (probably Cater) finds out they were engaged (Ace made some comment on magicam or something) and no they can never live it down.  All the couple jokes are like... amplifiied.

That said, I like to think they slowly work things out and realize they like each other and admit they actually do want to get married (I like to think sometime around ghost marriage because Deuce got jealous seeing Ace confess to Eliza and ended up owning up to it and teased Ace about his whole ideal relationship spiel and Ace admitted he had Deuce in mind during it) .

But they are still dumbasses and sometimes everyone wonders how they will survive marraige, but it’s also like, it works for them.

[vinziel]

The Heart of the Lovesick will always be Broken Male Reader x Bruce

A/N: Another Angst with no comfort? Damn I'm feeling angsty today.

Oh what a thrill it was to date the Spruce from BroZone, that man could make anyone fall for him and you were one of those people, yes you two were inseparable, you both cuddled, kissed, went on dates. Ah yes how marvelous it was, the troll was gentle, kind, flirty and oh mighty handsome. Yes it was the perfect relationship and you thought you two would last together, you really did but when the band split up, you didn't even know Spruce left, you went to visit him one day and only his grandma answered, telling you the brothers except for Bitty B left. Least to say you were heartbroken, you cried and cried.

And oh how things were worse when you lost your parents when the trolls were escaping Bergen Town, you heard their screams as you tried to help them, only to be pushed to the exit by other trolls running. And there you lived a life of isolation, no one there for you and you there for no one. You eventually tried to socialize and became a bit happy, but still your heart remained broken and no matter how many trolls you dated tried to fix it, but people always say the heart of the Lovesick will always be broken, but you never believed in that, you still tried to fix your broken heart. You continue to live life like normal, your heart slowly and gradually healing, until you saw him, he was there, talking to his brothers, you didn't want to believe it, your eyes widened, and you froze in place.

Spruce, who now goes by Bruce approached you, he recognized you and gave you a hug "How's it been man?" He asked excitedly, you broke out of the trance and hugged him back, a small blush appearing on your face as you smiled, replying "I'm doing great. You?" "Oh life's been great, got reunited with my Brothers and blah blah-" You both converse for a while, you really thought you had a chance again, that maybe you two could give it a shot once more before Bruce suddenly mentions "I've got a wife and 13 beautiful kids now it's grea-" "WAIT YOU HAVE A WIFE AND KIDS?!" You yelled, shocked, choking on air "Yeah, it's been a while you know and well" Bruce responded, laughing awkwardly "W-well congrats man. I'm glad you found someone else" You say, you felt your heart break even more, you thought, you really thought you had a chance with him again huh?

"Thanks but uh what about you? Found someone else?" Bruce asked "Oh, no, I've dated but you know, none really worked out" You answered, the conversation was becoming awkward and really uncomfortable for both of you "Well I got to go, got you know stuff to do" You say awkwardly laughing, Bruce replied "Oh yeah my bro's are probably looking for me" You both went your separate ways, and it was only then when you went back home you let all your frustrations and despair let out, you thought to yourself "You dumb fucking idiot, you think he hasn't moved on?! You thought he was available?! That guy is smoking hot, you didn't think he would find someone else?!" You yelled at yourself, as you cried and cried, just as your heart was finally slowly healing, it was broken again, back from scratch, as you isolated yourself once more. No one there for you, and you there for no one. Perhaps what they say is true "The Heart of the Lovesick will always be broken"

[bobwess]

How about an Only Human Chapter 9 WIP Excerpt...

Sorry. Here you are.

This time the sight of hell sent a shiver up his spine. 

Dean frowned, looking around the once familiar torture chamber. He took a second to appreciate the table again. Fully adjustable, you can have them at any angle. It’s the little things. 

“You’re different.” 

Dean turned, unsurprised to find Amara standing there. 

She tilted her head. “More… human.” 

“Is that a good thing, or a bad?”

“It is nothing.” She said simply. “I am curious though.”

“Trouble with a witch.” He said simply. 

“You are still traveling with the angel.” 

“And?”

She didn’t respond. “What is it about this place that draws you to it?”

Dean frowned, feeling his breath catch in his throat for just a second. “It’s familiar.” 

“You were here for a long time?” 

“Longer than on earth.” Dean said. “It was my home…”

“You like it here.”

“No.” Dean said with a shrug. “Like I said, it’s just familiar.” 

Amara studied him for a moment. “You are fascinating.” 

“I know.” Dean answered. He frowned, looking her over. “You look different too.” 

“I’m learning.” 

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.” 

Amara turned, looking down at a long narrow table against the back wall. She ghosted her fingers over the tools thoughtfully before looking up at him again. “So much suffering.” 

“Yeah that life’s in the rear-view for me.” Dean said, pointedly ignoring Amara’s revelation last time that he was the one who brought them here. 

“Not hell.” Amara explained. “On earth. My brother’s creations are howling, groping in the night, entirely forsaken. So they turn on each other. Even a righteous man tears a knife into flesh after thirty years of resolve he never would.” 

“You’re not wrong.” 

“It is disgusting.”

“Plenty of worlds out in the universe. Maybe you go give them a visit and leave ours out of it.” 

“None of them matter.” 

He looked at her. “Why’s that?”

“Do you know what I miss?” It wasn’t her voice.

Dean blinked, the oppressive walls of hell snapping away to a cold landscape amidst the trees. He moved back just slightly, giving him just enough space to look at Cas. He suppressed a shiver but he kept his voice even. “What?”

“Duff’s.” 

“Yeah?”       

Dean looked up. The sun was just cresting the peaks of newly discovered mountains to their left, casting long shadows over the small clearing they had settled into during the night. The meager fire in front of them had nearly extinguished, the last sticks they managed to pry free in the darkness almost used up. 

He shook off the lingering unease from his latest… vision? 

Cas hummed a quiet agreement. “I had a very good evening before the accident.” 

“Sap.” Dean ribbed, shoving Cas slightly under crinkling mylar. 

“I didn’t enjoy this part of it.” Cas said, annoyed. 

“Except this time you have the benefit of my wit and commentary.” 

Cas frowned for a moment, considering. “You’re not unconscious and we have this blanket. I suppose we are better off at the moment.” 

“Yeah.” Dean groaned. “Except I don’t actually think we’re about to be found and rescued by anyone.” Dean said, slumping back slightly against the tree. “And I don’t think either of us is getting our mojo back very soon.” 

Cas lowered his head in agreement. “And we do not have a roof over our heads.” 

“And we have no idea where we are.” Dean sighed. “Might as well see what we can see.” He looked over at Cas. “Ready?”

“No.” 

“Too bad.” Dean shrugged free of the emergency blanket, letting a rush of frigid air settle over them. He closed his eyes, breathing through a fresh sear of electricity through his nerves. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Dean pulled back his jacket, looking at his shoulder. “It’s better… I can move it now without almost passing out. Still got a ways to go.” He sighed. 

“What is our plan?”

“Step 1: you don’t die.” 

“Step 2?”

“Working on that.” Dean said passively. Dean pushed himself up and the rest of the way out of the blanket, pulling his coat closer to him and giving a shiver. Behind him Cas pulled the mylar back before getting to his feet and following Dean without letting it go.

[musicallygt]

Borrower Skyes Au: Ema and Klavier Sizeswap - A Small Visit

Well, it's been well over 3 months since the last chapter......... like a year and a half LMAO. My writing style is very different now (like how i write in present tense instead of past tense) but i don't feel like going thru the old chapters and changing them to match lol.

Some things to note:

1) i looked up the process of visiting someone in prison and decided it doesnt work for what i want in my fic lmao. if ace attorney can have a fucked up inaccurate legal system then this doesn't have to be accurate either and i can do what i want forever lol

2) I reference this fic that @spirit-small wrote for my au a lot in this!! the experience is definitely enhanced if you read it first

FIRST | PREV | NEXT | MASTERPOST

—————

“Kleine Fräulein, we are not doing that!”

“You can’t tell me what to do, fop!”

“I’m serious, there is no way this will end well!”

Ema is giddy, just barely holding back giggles as she practically skips out of the Prosecutor’s Office. The more she thinks about this idea, the more excited she finds herself becoming– not even the fop could stop her from doing this (and it’s not like he can, not when he’s now the size of a borrower while she’s the size of a bean).

“It’s not like your brother can do anything to me now!” Ema whispers back. “What’s he gonna do? Put me in another jar?”

“Watch before you cross!” the fop hisses in her ear just before she can step onto a busy road, cars speeding by. She’s bouncing in place as she waits to cross, the fop on her shoulder gripping her hair tightly as he’s jostled in place. 

“Listen, hör zu!” There’s a desperation in his soft voice, even as he speaks quieter. “We already got plenty of chemicals from the Office, let’s just forget about your idea and head back–”

And Ema promptly tunes him out, ignoring his pleas as she finally crosses the street. She is going to visit his brother, that foptop, whether he wants her to or not.

She looks up at the street signs, mentally going over the directions to the detention center that she managed to get.

The fop just doesn’t understand why she has to do this, why she needs to see his brother.

Ema can’t stop grinning. 

Oh, she can just imagine the foptop's face when he sees her again, now the size of a full-grown bean. He'd probably freak out at the sight of her, especially after what happened last time they met. Maybe he'd even beg for her not to hurt him for what he did to her, and maybe she'd pretend to consider showing him mercy.

She giggles. This is going to be so good.

“One visitor to the fopto— er, K-Kristoph Gavin!” she announces once they reach the jail, the tiny fop on her shoulder finally shutting up as he hides in her hair.

The bean at the front office just pauses in the donut he’s biting into, just before shoving the rest of it into his mouth and turning to the computer, messy fingers on the keyboard. “Name?”

“Ema. S-Skyence. Ema Skyence.”

He looks back at her, eyebrow raised.

“Like ‘science’ but with the ‘k’ sound.”

An awkward pause. 

“Okay…”

She really should’ve chosen a better fake name.

The bean asks more questions, most of which Ema doesn’t really understand or has no idea how to answer. But she answers them anyway, with the most bean-like answers she can come up with. And the bean types them down, meaning her answers must be good. (Or he doesn’t actually care. He seems more concerned about stuffing his face with donuts than questioning most of her replies. Which still works for her.)

Ema can’t help but stare at his hands as he types, watching how just a single finger can be used to press down the keys instead of having to use his entire body weight. Now that she’s bean-sized, she should try it out with the fop’s computer back home. It definitely seems a lot faster that way.

“I’m surprised, honestly,” the bean speaks up after swallowing another donut, filling out more information on the computer. “Mr. Gavin doesn’t really get any visitors here. Well, except for his brother sometimes. And that defense attorney, Phoenix Wright.”

Ema blinks. “Mr. Wright?” There aren’t that many defense attorney beans named “Phoenix Wright,” are there?

“Oh, were you one of his clients before?”

“Er, something like that…”

What is Mr. Wright doing with a bean like… like the foptop? There’s no way they’re friends… are they?

Before she can ask more about him, the bean at the computer speaks up again as he finishes typing. “All right, there we go! You’re good to go! Just follow Meekins over there to Mr. Gavin’s cell.”

“YEEESSSSSIR!”

After going through a strange doorway (a “metal detect-tour”) the tall bean, one much taller than Ema and almost comical and cartoonish in nature, leads Ema through the prison, down to some farther section away from all the other prisoners. To somewhere called “solely-tarry confine-mint.”

“Well, this is it, sir!” the tall bean announces loudly as he leads her into a cell that looks a little too nice than what the foptop deserves. “Mr. Kristoph Gavin’s cell, ma’am sir!”

“Quiet down, Meekins,” the foptop speaks up from where he sits, not looking up from his book. “Your voice is as pleasant as nails scraping across a chalkboard.”

Ema shudders, the foptop’s smooth voice bringing back memories from her one and only encounter with him, memories she doesn’t like to dwell on.

(No, this is your chance to finally get revenge! He won’t know what hit him now that I’m bean-sized!)

“SORRY, SIRRRRRR!!!” 

The tall bean’s already loud voice is amplified by the device hanging around his neck, Ema wincing at the volume. She can feel the tiny fop’s  entire body cringing on her shoulder— with his current size, she can only imagine how much worse the sound is for him.

“IT’S JUST!!! YOU HAVE A VISITOR, SIRRRR!!!”

“Yes, why else would you be here.” The foptop turns a page, still not looking up. 

The way he’s just so… so calm, it’s so frustrating. Ema can’t wait to get her hands around his neck. (Maybe. She’s not sure yet what she’s going to do. She’s still figuring that out.)

“Now, if you would be so kind as to leave us be…”

“B-BUT SIR—”

“Meekins.” Though he still doesn’t look up, the foptop’s voice us low and dangerous, Ema tensing up as goosebumps run along her arms. Hadn’t he used that same tone when he first found her…?

“I asked you to leave us alone. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Sorry, sirrrrrr!” Despite definitely being taller than the foptop, the tall bean is clearly intimidated by him, quickly shuffling away after that threat.

“Well, Wright,” the foptop begins, still not looking up from his book, “if you’re here to ask me again why I killed Mr. Shadi Smith, don’t bother. My answer is still the same: I killed him because I’m an evil human being, end of discussion.”

(Damn right, you are.)

“Actually,” Ema speaks up, her voice cracking.

Damn nerves...

She clears her throat, making her voice louder, steadier. “Actually, I’m not Mr. Wright.”

The foptop freezes midway through flipping a page, finally turning his head towards her. His brows raise, eyes widening ever so slightly in what Ema hopes to be shock.

On her shoulder, the tiny fop grips her hair tighter, tense.

Ema just stands taller, puffing out her chest. “Bet you regret putting me in a jar and trying to suffocate me now that I’m the size of a bean!”

“Bean?”

Why isn’t he feeling threatened?! Ema glares harder, waiting for him to finally crack under her intimidation.

“Ah. You’re my brother’s… roommate.”

Ema’s fists tighten on her bag strap. She can’t explain it, but she hates the way he says that word, “roommate.” It feels… condescending.

Like he refuses to see her in that way.

“Y-Yeah. I am.”

A pause. Neither of them move, just locked in a silent staring contest.

Ema refuses to back down.

“Well? Aren’t you scared, foptop?”

Why is her voice wavering? She shouldn’t be scared now, not when she’s the size of a bean.

“Scared?” the foptop asks with a stupid smirk, pushing up his glasses. “Why should I be scared?”

Ema takes a deep breath, forcing herself to stop shaking. “Because I’m bean-sized,” she states again. “I can get my revenge on you now.”

And the foptop just laughs. His laugh is loud, menacing, echoing in the cell around them. 

She hates his laugh.

“Fine, then.” With that, he closes his book, setting it aside, and he stands up.

He’s… taller than Ema. Much taller…

It never occurred to her that he’d still be taller than her even when she’s bean-sized.

“Go on, then,” he taunts, arms outstretched at his sides. “Get your revenge on me now that you’ve inexplicably grown to human size.”

Ema can’t move. She can’t speak. Her throat is tight, her chest heavy.

She’s the size of a human bean, but with the foptop towering over her, it’s like she’s normal size again. The giant foptop looming, able to grab her in his massive hand at any time, dropping her in another jar…

Her grip tightening even more on her bag strap, she hunches into herself, taking a step back.

“What’s the matter?” He takes a step closer, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. She backs away more.

She hates how he mocks her.

“I thought you were going to get your revenge on me, were you not?”

She says nothing. Maybe this really was a bad idea…

“Or I suppose your revenge is shrinking down my brother and keeping him prisoner on your shoulder.”

Ema’s eyes widen. She had forgotten about him. One hand immediately goes to her shoulder to shield him, the tiny fop shifting tensely as he tries to stay even more hidden in her hair.

“Oh, did you think I wouldn’t notice him sitting there on your shoulder? I almost thought you brought him along to taunt me.”

“He’s not my prisoner,” Ema finds herself saying, her fingers now curling up protectively. She doesn’t know why she feels the need to defend him. “I’m finding a way to get him back to normal.”

“And am I wrong to assume you’re at fault for his minuscule size?”

She doesn’t answer.

The foptop extends his hand to her, palm up with a grin. “Now, I’d like my brother if you don’t mind. I’m not comfortable leaving him in the hands of someone like you.”

Ema doesn’t move. No, she can’t let the foptop have his brother.

The foptop frowns, a certain danger in his eyes that makes Ema’s blood run cold. “Don’t make me ask again,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “Hand over my brother. Now.”

Ema’s fingers wrap around the fop, refusing to obey.

“I’m staying with her,” the fop suddenly speaks up before Ema can say anything, moving her hair out of his way to show himself to his brother. His voice is loud and steady; if it weren’t for the way he’s trembling in her hand, she would’ve believed he’s not even a little bit afraid of this situation.

The foptop arches a brow, his frown almost a scowl now. “You’re staying with her?” he repeats incredulously, shaking his head. “Really now, entrusting your safety to this..." 

The foptop pauses, his eyes narrowing as he glares down at her. 

“…creature, at a time like this… Rather reckless of you, don't you think?"

Ema’s blood boils.

Creature. That’s what he called her: creature.

She’s not even a person to him.

All Ema can do is glare.

"My choice to trust Kleine Fräulein is none of your business," the fop replies, his voice not wavering despite how much he shakes. He grabs onto her fingers, wrapping his tiny arms tight around them. “I’m not a child anymore, Kris, I can take care of myself.”

Ema can’t explain the warmth she feels in her chest at his contact.

The foptop, meanwhile, hardly shows any reaction, though the look in his eyes tells Ema everything. “Listen to yourself, Klavier,” he says quite forcefully. “You’re four inches tall and you think the reasonable course of action is to willingly endanger yourself by staying in the possession of the lunatic—” He practically hisses the word. “—who did this to you. Your diminished size seems to have affected your ability to even think logically.

The shrunken fop hesitates, having no reply.

“Hmph. Sounds like you’re finally listening to reason.”

The foptop steps towards her again, hand outstretched once more. She takes another step back.

Ema doesn’t know why— hell, she doesn’t even understand what exactly is going through her mind right now— but she knows she can’t let the foptop have his brother. She can’t let that happen. Not here, and not during a time like this.

She has to keep the fop away.

She doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until her fist makes contact with the foptop's jaw.

———

"Man, that was a terrible idea. We really shouldn't have done something so incredibly reckless.”

“Ja,” Klavier deadpans, his grip tight on a lock of her hair as she walks, “that was an awful idea. I wonder why we decided to do it.”

Kleine Fräulein doesn’t respond.

Not that he expects her to.

The walk away from the prison is silent between them, neither of them uttering a word.

With each step, Klavier finds himself very conscious of every breath he takes, his chest tight.

Dealing with Kris is something he can usually handle; the man had practically raised him since the two of them were boys, Klavier growing up knowing what he’s like. Sure, he’s sometimes… difficult to put it lightly, and he was found guilty of murder, but… Kris is still his brother…

He stares down at his fists— despite how tightly he holds onto Kleine Fräulein’s hair, they still shake violently. It’s… He’s… 

He gulps, breathing suddenly difficult.

He’s never felt as small as he did compared to his brother today, and it wasn't just literally. The way Kristoph spoke, so condescending and demeaning, as if Klavier isn’t his own person, an adult who can make his own decisions...

As if he’s still the helpless little boy who relied so much on his older brother... Who trusted his older brother without fail or question…

“At least that felt good,” Kleine Fräulein suddenly speaks up, interrupting his thoughts as she continues to walk who knows where. “I mean, my hand still hurts, but I didn't realize how satisfying that would be. Probably the closest I'll ever get to punching you, fop.”

Despite it all, Klavier can’t help but chuckle at her remark. There’s some comfort in how even in this crazy situation they’ve found themselves in, Kleine Fräulein is still the same as ever.

It’s calming, in a strange way.

“We should do this again more often. Or at least while I’m still so huge. I have more I’d like to do to that jerk of a fop.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “I doubt Kris would agree to be your punching bag again. Besides, they’re definitely not letting you back in there after you got kicked out for that.”

“A minor inconvenience.”

He laughs, and in that moment, everything almost feels okay. Almost.

When his laughter dies down, Klavier purses his lips. He stares up at her— from his vantage point on her shoulder, hidden in her hair, it’s rather difficult to see her face clearly.

His throat tightens.

He stares down at his wrist, his crystal bracelet from Kleine Fräulein still adorning it, having shrunken with him.

After a moment, he scoots closer to Kleine Fräulein's neck, the lock of hair still tight in his grip. "Danke, Kleine Fräulein..." he somehow manages to choke out, leaning into her warmth.

She just hums in reply, almost nonchalantly, Klavier feeling the vibration from her neck as she does so. 

He closes his eyes, just trying to forget today, just trying to forget his fears, and just trying to forget how miniscule he is.

Being with Kleine Fräulein doesn’t exactly help him feel better about it all— she seems to enjoy being the bigger person for once, based on how she treats him now— but at least... she makes him feel safe.

"You know," she speaks up after several minutes of silence, Klavier's eyes snapping open, "it's been a long day. I think we should get some Snackoos. As a treat. Where do you beans borrow stuff from?"