#((can you tell these were all drawn at wildly different points in my life.))

[dailyeohkakyoin]

First | Previous | Next

[shares-a-vest]

For @batboysxprompts 'Bat to the Bone' Steddie Flash Event

Expanding on THIS drawing I did ages ago (don't look at it, it is the first digital thing I've ever drawn and I did the pixel thingy wrong). I really only have three different ideas turning like a rotisserie in my head.

"Aw, come on, Steve, they are so cute!" Robin chimes as she scratches a small, fluffy bat behind the ear with sickly affection.

She is sitting on the floor by the coffee table, hand-feeding the thing from an upturned ziplock bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit, the pile spreading every time she goes to it. Meanwhile, Nancy spins around, watching as three more critters circle her, chirping away in unison and periodically dipping to rest delicately on her hand like she's a goddamn woodland-dwelling Disney princess.

"Why don't you like them?" Nancy adds, like she hasn't made this argument each time Steve has complained about the flying nightmares over the past two months.

He folds his arms, watching on from the archway into the living room.

But he doesn't stay standing in dramatic defiance for long because he is soon moving to slap away one bat coming for his arm, the one that always goes straight for a nibble on his biceps.

He can't tell any of them apart physically, even though everyone else can. Including the girls who have a rotation of names for the dozen or so bats that Eddie has "doing his bidding" or sends out "for protection" or whatever other excuse he has for them living in Steve's house 24/7.

At least they had enough sense to stay up in amongst the exposed wood beams when his parents were home a few weeks back.

"What the - "

Steve babbles incoherently as another (which Dustin so unhelpfully named Bat Steve due to his predilection for hair) comes swooping, landing directly in his hair. He knows better than to remove him because Bat Steve will hold on for dear life and tangle himself up to nest there.

He ignores him - as best he can ignore a literal bat brushing away at his hair like he's combing it - to continue, "So what happened at work today was perfectly fine, then? How are we supposed to explain that to Keith?"

"Just tell him a pigeon flew in through the door with a customer when the door opened and pooped everywhere," Nancy shrugs, ever the one to come up with a lie on the fly.

Robin clicks her fingers in agreement and points a finger at Nancy, "That's a good one."

Steve rolls his eyes, "Yeah a pigeon shitting red berries everywhere makes a whole lotta sense!"

He swats away Bicep Chomper again as Robin offers up more berries.

"Here you go," she coos, leaning in close.

"Maybe you should stop feeding them!" he snaps, turning heel into the entryway so he can use the hall mirror and figure out how to detangle Bat Steve.

Three others follow along, hovering around him in a flapping halo as he looks in the mirror.

"God damn it!"

He gesticulates wildly at his reflection, huffing and whining at the sight of a red smear on the collar of his predominantly white polo. He turns to look over his shoulder and, sure enough, there are more drip marks down the back of his work vest too.

"I need Eddie to wake up so he can take them while I shower," he whines, speaking more to himself than the girls who are now cooing in baby-talk to the bats still in the living room.

He is about to continue extracting Bat Steve when a laugh drifts down the staircase.

The bats go flying upwards. Except for Bat Steve, who merely attempts to do so but gets a claw caught up in a lock of Steve's fringe, giving an eye-watering tug as he goes. Steve grabs him and yanks him clean out, along with a few precious stands. At this rate, Bat Steve is going to send Human Steve bald.

"Come to your Vampir Master," Eddie commands in his Dungeon Master voice as he throws his arms wide.

He cackles when they each land along his right arm.

Steve rolls his eyes at the supposed Master. A joke everyone around him, all being nerds, ran into the ground. It honestly wasn't that funny anyway, considering the only real differences between Eddie before and after coming back from the Upside Down as a vampire are 1) no sunlight, 2) drinking blood, and 3) a bunch of unruly bats flapping about.

He opens his mouth to start up the laundry list of complaints he had been reciting since the bats pooped their way through his place of employment just after lunchtime. But Eddie smirks at him and winks.

Okay so maybe Steve enjoys the whole Master-Vampire boyfriend thing on occasion. He shakes his head. It just cannot be right now...

Eddie bounces down the stairs, lowering his arm and Bat Steve comes straight back.

"Eds, tell them to stop!" Steve dry sobs, sounding utterly childish as Eddie descends the stairs.

Showing Eddie-level dramatics wasn't exactly the game plan here but, with Bat Steve burrowing back into his hair, he can't help it.

His hair!

"Come here, Cordelia," Eddie coos, gently lifting Cordelia out of his hair.

But the relief is short-lived because now Steve can feel a critter crawling up his back to rest on his left shoulder. Oh no.

The others are very annoying and, in Cordelia's case, painful. And overall yeah, being followed around constantly by your vampire boyfriend's bat squadron is potentially life-ruining considering the carpet in Family Video is now covered in bat poop stains.

But this one (aka, Bitey) bites.

He points to his shoulder where he can hear Bitey chirping away, readying itself to attack, "At least stop this one!"

"Samwise, come with me, darling," Eddie instructs, reaching forward and flattening his palm.

Bitey (there's no way Steve is calling him anything other than that for now) retreats behind his neck, hiding. He does this a lot, the little shit.

"Sam," Eddie warns sternly.

The bat inches forward, clearly reluctant as Eddie plucks him off Steve's shoulder, a claw catching on the fabric of his polo. Eddie raises his hand so Bitey is at eye level.

"Stop biting. Only I get to bite Steve."

[guppybubbles]

Maybe I'm the Monster.

Set after the court trial for Juana Flippa's life. Juana Flippa is brought back to life, but Charlie is still paranoid. In an attempt to make sure he can protect her, he calls an old friend.

CONTENT WARNING: Rituals, Dealing with the Devil

WORD COUNT: 2,251 words

“The monster's gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

This wasn’t paranoia. It was far from it.

If anything, this was just a parent making sure mistakes— misclicks— don’t happen again, Slime justified. This was right.

On the large branch growing out from his balcony, an ashy finger traced the bark and formed a circle. Slime drew a symbol in the middle of the circle, holding a candle in his other hand to even make out whatever he was smearing on the wood. It was the dead of night, everyone on the island has gone to bed after doing another day of completing tasks for the eggs.

JuanaFlippa wasn’t home. After that entire court fiasco, Mariana at least had the effort to be there for his daughter more frequently than before- even if all it took was a case of murder. Mariana took Flippa back to his own home, and Charlie went back to Sacapuntas. He’d been invited to join them in telling Juana a bedtime story and a lullaby, even being offered to sleep right next to Mariana but he declined.

Flippa’s death terrified him to his core. The moment his anger subsided after watching her death unfold in a recording, it was quiet. So horribly quiet. He kept checking the list of tasks they had to accomplish and sat quietly in her room, waiting for her to pop out somewhere like it was a horribly late April Fools’ Prank, but she never came and the tasks were left unchecked for days.

But thanks to that court case he bargained for, she has her life back, and Charlie will make sure this would never happen again.

Slime carefully lit candles and gently placed them down on the border of the circle. This could’ve been a fire hazard, putting down candles right on top of a flammable structure, but most of his home was still blown up anyway so more damage wasn’t that big of a problem. “You better show up.” He stepped away from the circle and stretched an arm, holding his hand right above the center. A sharp knife slid across his palm in a swift motion, and slowly blood dripped down.

The thick liquid seeped into the ash and the poorly drawn summoning circle started shifting to a dark red hue, faintly glowing. The candles’ flames waved wildly in different directions, not following the gentle breeze of the night. Then, all together the candles were hushed and the faint glow slowly died.

Slime frowned. It didn’t work. He did everything right and it didn’t work.

Like an explosion, the flames erupted once more. Aggressive, unnatural, and way bigger than the standard flare. The red glow turned brighter until it all calmed down. Standing in the middle of the circle stood an imposing figure.

“Hello, my friend!” Pitch-black eyes shined with glee. A tall bear demon with red fur finally showed himself after a dramatic entrance. “So good to see you, how have you been?”

“Flippa almost died.” Charlie went straight to the point, staring directly into those void eyes. Afraid that if he blinked, he’d lose dominance over the ruler of Hell. “I need- She needs something more to protect her.”

“More? But doesn’t she have a gun?”

“Does she- Do you see the monsters out there?! They weirdly have stronger armor than most of us on the island do. I need something… something more!”

“More?” The demon asked.

“More. Something bigger, something stronger. Please, I’ll do anything.” Slime begged.

Rubius rubbed his hand against his chin in deep thought. Charlie kept his hands clasped together. He knows he's asking for too much, first, it was a weapon for his daughter, then a court case to bring her back to life, now, he's asking for something more.

Could you blame him? Flippa is the first ever egg to perish, it instilled fear in every parent that their children were very much capable of dying. Even worse, she dies at the hands of his partner. It didn't even matter that the dragon might come back and reign hell on him and Mariana, what mattered was his baby was gone.

A single mistake and his beautiful daughter died in her sleep.

Slime won't let that happen again, ever.

“Okay, I think I know something that can help you—”

“Yes- yes! Anything, man. I'll take anything and everything you can give.”

There was a look of annoyance in Rubius' eyes, and Charlie should've known to apologize for cutting him off.

The demon held his hand out, and Charlie gladly took it.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

It was the next morning. JuanaFlippa munched on the sandwich that Papa Mariana packed for her.

Papa guided her back home to La Ciudad del Sacapuntas but stopped a decent distance away from Papa Charlie’s blown-up house. It seemed despite beginning to get along after the trial for her life, there was still a long road ahead of them before they return to that stage of disgusting romance where they brag about every romantic thing they do to each other to everyone (and she means everything).

Papa kissed her forehead goodbye and she excitedly ran to the broken part of the wall. Flippa wasn’t sure if Papa Charlie continued to sleep in his place when it was still a very long time until it could be fully restored to its normal condition, she hoped he was sleeping somewhere safe and warm. Perhaps she could ask Leo if her dad could rebuild the house. Then again, Uncle Foolish tends to charge quite a lot, and she’s heard building makes him a bit crazy…

Both of her papas agreed that Flippa cannot stay in her room for a while until everything is fixed. The ashes and fumes she might inhale are highly dangerous, she may have been brought back to life, but her life was still as fragile as it was before.

Flippa waited patiently, staring up at her papa’s elevated home and expecting him to greet her with a loud smile and a healthy lunch pack in his hand. She knew out of the two of them, papa Mariana was the better cook, but Papa Charlie genuinely does try his best to make stuff she likes. He makes a lot of avocado toast, which is what he is mostly capable of cooking, but she doesn’t mind, it’s her favourite after all.

She coughed slightly, her hand beginning to cover her nose and her mouth to shield it from the floating dust. This is bad… Papa always warned her to wear a face mask whenever she was going to enter and leave Sacapuntas. There were times when she didn't listen to his lectures and felt fine, yet it was beginning to be a bit more dusty than usual.

Was this normal?

Flippa stumbled backward as she tried to evade the forming clouds. She almost tripped but still attempted to hold herself upright.

That's when she felt it.

Steady, rhythmic rumbles of the ground. Shaky hands pulled out a gun with a red bow tied on top, matching with her best friend who had a smaller green ribbon used to tie her braids on their gun as well. She remained the brave, little girl her fathers raised her to be. She'd just have to wait until Papa Charlie comes down to protect her (though she remembers times when she had to help him instead, shooting down monsters and helping him up when he's fallen).

A giant hand gripped the side of the wall, and another slammed to the ground. She almost screamed in terror, if not for the fact that air caught in her throat and she began coughing once more. Flippa closed her eyes in fear of the big monster in front of her, wrapping her arms around herself to calm her fearful quivers.

“Oh- Flippa! Are you okay?”

It’s her papa. He’s here to stop the scary sounds, the scary rumbles, the scary giant. Flippa shakingly reached for him, who sounded so close yet so far. “Are you hurt? Sorry, papa went through some… changes.”

She realized the rumbling she had sensed earlier had stopped, and the giant’s presence still loomed, but how? Papa got rid of the monster, it sounded like he was right above her! Flippa opened her eyes, breath quickening as she immediately noticed the large hand still on the ground. She looked up and met eyes with her papa Charlie.

Papa smiled, that same smile he reserved specifically for her, the smile that soothed her troubles and made her feel safe from any scary monsters under her bed… but it was wrong. “Good morning, Flippa.”

While she knew her papa wasn’t completely human, he wasn’t… part giant or monster at all. No, it was wrong. She knew her papa. She knew he didn’t have black, protruding horns, ones that resembled the demon that she met during the afterlife. He didn’t have sharp teeth either, his teeth were strong enough to rip into a zombie’s flesh but it didn’t look like a large knife that could easily chew and gobble her up. He just.. looked wrong. The giant may share the same face, the same voice, the same smile as her papa, but he’s not her papa. No. Not her papa.

“Papa…” Flippa quietly called out for her papa, her real one.

The monster’s pointy ears twitched, another trait she knows he doesn’t have, and he replied like how her papa would. Same tone and all. She wouldn’t be fooled, she knew it was a trick. “Yeah? What do you need, Flippa?”

“Papa…” She whined, calling out again. She could feel her fear reach her eyes, and tears began to well up. Her voice was breaking as she backed away. “Papa..”

Flippa could see the monster twist his face in concern, piecing together something in his head. Whatever he was piecing together, she doesn’t know. “Oh, Flippa..” The monster moved, and she almost screamed again, yet she couldn’t find it in her to do so. He lowered himself even more despite kneeling already, trying to be at eye level with her. It doesn’t work, he’s still so big. “I- I know Papa looks different, but it’s okay! It’s still me, see? I’m not gonna hurt you.” His hand was slow, maybe he did it on purpose to not scare her, but as it approached her and took more of her vision, it only raised her heartbeat even more.

“NO! Go-... GO AWAY!” She found her voice, and she yelled. The monster looked hurt, maybe it would be the same face Papa would make, she wouldn’t know, she’s never yelled at her papa before. She never will. Yelling at the monster seemed to work though, because he stopped his attempt at grabbing her.

“Flippa, don’t cry… It’s me, Charlie, your papa?-”

“NO! YOU’RE NOT MY PAPA!” Flippa cried out, clenching her fists and stomping stubbornly on the floor. “I want… I WANT MY PAPA!”

“Slime..?” Papa Mariana’s voice was quiet, so quiet. Yet they both heard it. Flippa immediately ran to his side, hugging his legs and sobbing quietly. Her tears stained his yellow pants, she felt her papa’s hand gently hold the top of her head.

“Slime, it’s- what happened to you, man?” Flippa tugged her papa’s shirt gently. No, that’s not Papa Charlie. Don’t speak to him, let’s go to my real papa. She wanted to speak, to warn him, but sobs and whining only came out of her throat. Mariana didn’t take it as a warning, wrapping an arm around Juana’s legs and lifting her up, she began to hide at the crook of his neck, arms wrapping over his shoulders.

“Mariana…” The monster whispered, sounding like he was pleading, trying to be sympathetic. Juana whined again, moving impatiently on her papa’s arm so he could pay attention to her. Quietly, she mumbled. “I want to go home…”

Mariana adjusted her position so she’d have less of a chance of falling as she moves around in his arms, he looked at her in the eyes. His face softened up, gently kissing her forehead. “Bien, te llevaré a casa ahora mismo.” He softly spoke, wiping away the stains of tears on her face.

Somehow, the monster heard them. “You- are you taking her home? Let me come along. With you, please.” He begged. There was a look of uncertainty in Mariana’s eyes, he looked at Juana again. She shook her head a little, gripping tightly on her papa’s shirt. At the corner of her eye, she could see a slight twist of expression. He probably saw her shake her head.

“Sorry, Slime. Let me take Juana home, okay? Let’s… Let’s talk about this later.”

Without another word, Mariana turned away and Juana rested her head on her papa’s shoulder. She was facing the giant again and she almost regretted saying no. The monster was looking at Mariana with a dejected expression, maybe even apologetic. She turned away, hiding beneath the crook of her papa’s neck again and pretending to fall asleep.

Charlie wanted to plead with Mariana, even plead for Flippa to just stay a bit longer, but he saw their fear. Flippa had never yelled at him before, always so soft-spoken and sweet, his daughter. Yet, she’s the one who turned and ran away in fright. He would never hurt her, or Mariana. They had to understand that, but he couldn’t force them here and make them listen to him, so he stayed where he was.

And just like that, Charlie was left alone.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

“Bien, te llevaré a casa ahora mismo.” ;; “Okay, I’ll take you home right now.” (Sorry if it's a mistranslation, I used Google translation. Please tell me if it's wrong so I can fix it!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this a really long time ago, literally like, right after Juana Flippa was revived, I immediately pulled out my laptop and began writing 💀 I finished it during my hiatus, but I never found the courage to post it. To celebrate (not) Flippa's return, I decided to post this!! I hope you enjoyed reading it :) *disappears back into the shadowss*

[katindeed]

writing and transness my two favorite worldly desires.

I don’t know why I always gravitate back to writing about being trans. On one hand it is quite the unique and different experience and I would add it’s fair to say it’s pretty all encompassing in my life whether I like it or not but it’s not like I don’t have anything else in my life to write about. I could write about my weird need to be independent or how differently I act by myself versus with even my closest companions. I do try to write about those things but then I get distracted and before I know it a week has passed but something weird happens when I write about being part of this strange little group. I’m able to let the words just flow out and almost nothing could distract me from finishing. If I had to guess why this happens I would presume it’s because of how inescapable it has felt in this point of life. I’ve barely just completely grasped my transness about a year ago (though I've been questioning since 10) and I’ve only really toyed with my name which didn’t take long considering I’ve always been weirdly drawn to the name Katherine. Recently for the first time I've had good enough friends I can tell and they’ve been wildly helpful yet still I feel as if I haven’t had enough initiative in a year of fully accepting myself. For make-up I’ve tried lip-stick once when my family were somewhere for a few days and I’ve been doing my nails more frequently but that's about it. I shave my face almost everyday to keep it at bay, but I don’t really have the tools for shaving anywhere else. And for clothes I have done zilch. It’s not like I haven’t done these things out of lack of effort, it's just hard to do them when in a packed house, when in constant fear, and having a lack of expendable income in a slew of more important expenses. With all this writing is my way to express these feelings I can’t in daily life. I’ve never been adequate at drawing and while I have been doodling more, I don’t think I care to really put a ton of work into it. So with the physical medium out of the way that leaves words. I’ve always been very creative with a lot of thoughts yet I’ve never had a great way to express it. I always thought I hated writing. Always forced to write a long drawl of something I truly feel passionless for. The odd free writes were always fun but the piles of essays and grammar mistakes were always there to make sure I always hated writing. Thank the stars, that recently for the first time I had a teacher who made me realize the joy that can come from writing when you care. Sadly that was last year's teacher but the essays don’t feel as grueling to get through and when we’re doing a paragraph on occasion they feel fun. Now with both these discoveries of late, both from last year interesting enough, I have been going through a bit of a change in how i am. For the first time in my life there is a very clear goal to why I should keep going to get out of this house. 1) so I can be who I want to be 2) so I can write. I've promised myself at the very least I’ll try to get myself there. No matter the obstacle no matter the strife I have to try because in the end memento mori.

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

HI ZENOS BESTIE (not really but shh it’s ok) sometimes i wonder what goes on in your head because the more i look at you the more i think you’re either not thinking or plotting some crazy stunt to get Becca’s attention!(don’t tell me it’s not like this because i just KNOW!) But anyways i thought i would ask something since i am here: how would you ask your dearest frie… lover(?) enemy for life(???) to come and fight you? Let’s pretend you don’t want to do something too crazy that day so no “i’ll build a bigger world ending weapon than last time!”, what’s the best tactics to convince her to go look out for you and how do you not anger her to the point she needs to raise you after your sparring ended? Anyways have fun on this hellhole of a site and say hi to the twins for me~

[ -Ren]

Zenos's cerulean eyes light up as his fingers reach for the hilt of his scythe. A wide grin plays on his lips as if he were about to challenge you to a duel. Before he can speak a word, Miguel's hand plants itself on his shoulder.

The two men glare each other down before a huff of begrudging agreement escapes Zenos's lips. He then lets go of his scythe as his head plops into his now free hand.

"Ah yes, Ren... My lover's 'bestie'. I still don't grasp how a person could choose to have any sort of semblance of affection for multiple people to the point that they have to declare a preface of 'best' before friends... But if it, and therefore you, bring that glorious smile to my Rebecca's face, then I shall look into this concept of 'besties' so I can claim my rightful title!"

This proclamation earns the Garlean prince a few bewildered looks from the others. This doesn't deter him, however.

"To answer your question though," His fingers begin tapping on his lower jaw while a thoughtful smirk graces his lips. "I do not simply ask my Rebecca for a duel. There's no fun when the prey is so knowing, then the fight itself can grow stale... No, no... Most of my enjoyment comes from the hunt! Seeing her small form tense up as her brown eyes widen. Before her serene expression shifts to something primal, even Eorzea's greatest warriors cannot grant me such fulfillment."

He pauses, muttering something about Rebeca's smile and a pounding sensation in his chest. You can only watch as his eyes and hand wander amongst his chest to where his heart is. His gaze is wildly euphoric as it meets yours again.

" To be fair, I do not care if this world continues to be or ceases at any given moment. I only care that my lover is at my side as it goes on. I wanted her to show her sharpest claws and Fandaniel simply had the means of erupting that from her, my dear bleeding heart... So all I needed to do is show up when she's in her own little world and declare my intentions to get the results I crave."

"As for not upsetting her to the point of creating yet another of my passings, she has been teaching me about this 'communication' I simply state my intent and when she composes herself it's easy to see whether she is truly up for a battle. Whenever she isn't, my disappointment is immeasurable... Not at her, mind you... So I settle beside her and try to see where her thoughts lie. That usually ends up with her in my lap or her holding on to me in some way. I believe she calls this 'cuddling'? These actions seem to bring her enough enjoyment that she brings such enthralling energies to our matches...

I never thought such sedentary actions could be so intoxicating, but I find simply holding her to be just as addicting as seeing her coming at me with her weapon drawn. Perhaps this is just the effect that Rebecca, alone, possesses... But if you'll excuse me..."

Zenos then stands to his full height and walks over to where Rebecca is sitting. She's surrounded by the twins and Ryne as they all point at different things on the gaming device she holds. Zenos then nonchalantly passes on your greeting to the twins before bending down and scooping Rebecca up into his arms. The twins look like they're about to argue when they process what Zenos said.

They take a moment to look at each other as Ryne looks at them curiously. With a shake of Alphinaud's head and a pout that seems to hold fondness from Allisaie, they both respond:

"Hi Mom... Number 3 or 4?"

"Are you and Ser Hauchefant well?"

@floweringforgetfulness

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student. 

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much. 

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

           For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

           Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

           Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

           But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

           Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

           She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

           Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

           When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

--

           It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

           In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

           This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

           She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

           This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

           She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

           Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

           Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

           This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn 

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me. 

           That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

           The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

--

           Spencer is horribly frustrated.

           A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

           At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

           The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

           And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

           Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

           Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

           And play she has.

           From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

           The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

          Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

          “I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

           She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

           “Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

           The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

           The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

--

           “Where are we going?”

           Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

           Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

           Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

           “Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

           Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

           “Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

           He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

           “Spencer, please.”

           Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

           “Yes, my love?”

           Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

           “I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

           “Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

           “I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

           Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

           “You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

           Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

           A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

           “Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

           Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

           Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

           “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

           “Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

           Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

           “You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

           Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

           Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

           “That’s why.”

           Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

           The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

           “I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

           “Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

           “You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

           Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

           “Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

           Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

           “Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

           A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

           “Jump.”

           It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

           Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

           “Spencer!”

           Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

           His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

           “You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

           Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

           “I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

           Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

            She silences those fears with a kiss.

           “Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

           Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

           “Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

           “Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

           Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

           “I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

           “Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

           She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

           “Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

           “Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

           She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

           While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

           A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

           “It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

           Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

           “As they should. That was sensational.”

           Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

           The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

           “What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

           Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

           “I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

           As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

           “I have a few ideas.”

-

-

-

-

-

taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox​ @whxt-to-write @calm-and-doctor @jessalyn-jpeg @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae @itsmytimetoodream @kasaikawa @shadyladyperfection

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Juvia’s unfortunate discovery

Chapter 2: Descent into Madness

Rated M (Implied Intercourse but not descript)

To prevent any possible confusion; I don’t think I ever mentioned that in a lot of my stories Gray has a hard time saying “I love you”. This is because he believes that everyone he tells it to will inevitably end up dead. For good reason, since all of the people he has lost throughout his life are those he’s expressed his love to or for at some point. So that is what “his curse” is referring to.

So sorry for the delay!

I love you

I never want anyone other than you

I will never let you go

He said it! He’d finally put his fears behind him and told her how he felt. Gray looks down at the women in his arms as she stares up at him. The disbelief evident on her face as she thinks; Surely I misheard him. “What was that first thing you’d said babe?” Think I may have misheard you” she has to ask just to make sure.

Taking her face in his hands, he moves in so close their noses are touching before repeating himself. “I.LOVE.you __________, I LOVE YOU! Only you” the pride in his accomplishment is evident in his voice. Her eyes filled with tears as she tries to get over the initial shock of his statement. “C’mon let’s do this in a more appropriate place” he stands up carrying her into his bedroom. Dropping her onto the bed before climbing over her. “Now where were we?” he asks with his signature smirk in place.

“I love you Gray”

The words don’t have him reeling with anxiety, her eyes arent wide with fright, and she isn’t covering her mouth in horror. This time around is completely different than the first time it had accidentally been said. “say it again” he whispers against her lips. “I love you GRAAAY” she exclaims with emphasis put on his name as he slides into her without warning.

“Now that’s what I like to hear”

Waking up that next morning; A mutual decision is made that today is just for them, so they shut the world out. Neither one of them aware of the storm that was brewing behind the tightly drawn curtains.

I love you _________

She can’t stop hearing it.

I never want anyone other than you

Please no....

I’ll never leave you

Make it stop!

Juvia’s hands fist her hair, yanking on the blue strands. “Gray-Sama, you didn’t mean it...I know you didn’t...you just told her what she wanted to hear that’s all! Juvia forgives you” she whispers holding the doll close, caressing it softly. “Juvia knows that your just sewing your wild oats like old people say...you’ll throw her away, just like you did with all the other nameless sluts you took home throughout the years”.

So many females she’d seen leaving his house at ungodly hours of the night or early morning. Not one over the last year though...Juvia Was excited she thought he was finally ready to settle down.

“He is, just not with you” the voice is audible it’s not just in her head, it can’t be!

“SHUT UPPP! Gray -Sama belongs to Juvia!” the manic woman let’s out a miserable wail. The images she sees in her mind have also been infected by that bitch now! Plagued by images of; Gray & ___________

Laying in bed together

Fighting together

Laughing together

Getting married

Preparing to have a child

Bile rises in the back of her throat “God please no...anything but that....Even when he does return to me what if.....” she shudders, rapidly beginning to play out the nightmareish scenario in her minds eye.

~Dreamscape Begins~

Envisioning a happy home with her beloved.

The two of them; Snuggled up, together on the couch, chatting happily. Suddenly a knock on the door interrupts their conversation. “I’ll get it droplet, be right back” Gray says, kissing her forehead before leaving the room.

5 minutes pass... 10 minutes pass...and he still hasn’t returned to the couch. What could possibly be taking him so long?

Peering out of a peep hole on the front door she strained her ears to listen.

“-it’s yours”

“Look, Im with Juvia now; we’re happy just leave me alone”

“I just thought you should know, at least to give you the option of being with us…as a family”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget I even came down here, bye”

“Wait! That’s my kid too, you can’t do this-“

A child....a permanent reminder of…

“I love you _______”

“Juvia won’t let that happen” the expression on her face displays all the lunacy she hid within.

“I’ll make it stop and then everything will go back to how it was, just us two”.

~Across Town~

“Mmmm baby, I love it when you wake me up like this” Gray groans out, voice still laden with sleep. You can see that she moving as she continues sucking him for all he’s worth. “Want to see you though” he mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while lifting the sheet up. The twisted smile he sees causes him to yelp and immediately jump backwards, “JUVIA?! WHAT THE-!”

She giggles, “Juvia loves the way you taste Gray-Sama”.

“How’d you get in here?! Where is ________?” He begins to panic upon seeing the empty space beside him. “Don’t worry about that now let Juvia finish pleasuring her beloved”.

“NO!” Gray shouts, anxiety reaching a breaking point as he hops out of bed. “Get out Juvia! Get the F-“ he stops short at the feel of something wet and warm beneath his feet. Looking down he can’t help but scream, “BABE?!”.

Her eyes stare back; Blank, unseeing, her skin is cold to the touch. “No...no..not again! I shouldn’t have said it! I knew better goddamnit!”. The curse, his curse, it’s taken yet another person he said those words to. His parents, Ur, now __________ too. Something snapped inside of his head as he cried out in agony.

~Dreamscape end~

Sitting up drenched in sweat the raven haired man looked wildly around the room. His hand began groping the mattress beside him, she wasn’t there. “__________? BABE WHERE ARE YOU?!” he called out, voice loud and terrified. Frantic footsteps came rushing down the hall immediately, she runs into the room hurrying to his side. “What is it?? what’s wrong?!” she touches his face worriedly “Gray?”.

He yanks her onto the bed squeezing her tightly “Thank God” he whispers. “I thought, oh God baby I-“ his body begins to tremble and she hugs him. “I’m here, I’m OK, it wasn’t real” she repeated this like a mantra until he relaxed against the pillows, pulling her with him. “Please say it” he asks. “I love you Gray, I’m never going to leave you” her voice is soft but the conviction is firm. “This is real, that wasn’t” he repeats while caressing every inch of her body, gently kissing her lips. “Make love to me Gray” her voice startles him.

“W-What?”

“Make love to me, focus on me and nothing else, then you’ll know it’s real”.

It was easy for them to get lost in each other and shut the world out once more. They’d had no idea what an ugly day it’d been, how a slight drizzle became a deluge, a down pour. Pleasured cries and whispers of sweet nothings, drowned out by the howling wind. The lovers lay together; Stated and spent staring into each others eyes as they hold one another close.

“I love you, I never want to be with anyone but you, forever”

Juvia won’t let that happen.

Juvia will make her pay.

[misstrashchan]

Holiday Podcast Recommendation:

"If you see a mouse, and you look at it like you wanna hit it with a broom or you’re scared it has diseases, it’ll just run away from you!  But if you love it, and you keep really still, it’ll come right up to you.  How else are you gonna find out if a mouse can tap-dance?"

Sooo... I was planning on maybe doing a podcast episode recommendations list for the Holidays like I did with Halloween, but there... wasn't as much choice. Even the Holiday special episodes I did find were mostly difficult to follow without context, (which kind of defeats the point) so there was even less choice to pick from.

But... There was one podcast in particular I wanted to make a post about as a proper recommendation to be listened to during the Holidays/Wintertime. One I love so very, very dearly. When I was thinking of podcasts episodes I'd like to listen to at this time of year, I just kept looping back to this podcast in its entirety:

The Orbiting Human Circus (of the Air)

Summary: Discover a wondrously surreal world of magic, music, and mystery, with tap dancing mice, opera singing fleas, storytelling crickets, and singing saws. This immersive, cinematic audio spectacle follows the adventures of a lonely, stage-struck janitor who is drawn into the larger-than-life universe of The Orbiting Human Circus, a fantastical, wildly popular radio show broadcast from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

But where do all these fantastical acts for the circus come from?

...and come to think of it, where did the Janitor come from? Nobody seems to know, least of all the Janitor himself.

Oh my goodness. This podcast is. So so delightfully charming and whimsical. Excellent to listen to during the Holidays. And has one my favorite musical soundtracks, which is strange, because while the audio medium being used to its full advantage in fiction podcast format in how it presents and tells it's story is something I appreciate, I don't usually find myself complimenting or noticing how music in particular is used in a podcast, but here it's sort of an integral part of its identity and story?

(despite it's nostalgic charm and big heart, I feel it's fair to warn that this podcast is fairly bittersweet as well. And I mean that in a "it made me cry on mutiple occasions out of pure joy and grief all at once" sort of way)

Our main character is Julian the Janitor at the Eiffel Tower, a very endearing, shy but sensitive underdog type of character. He dreams of joining the radio show also titled The Orbiting Human Circus of the Air, which is broadcast from a large ballroom at the top of the tower. Throughout you get small anecdotes of his past, his anxiety, his abusive family, his tendency for escapism and connecting to others and grounding himself through songs and stories, interweaved with hearing the songs, stories and acts of the show he loves, watches, and listens to from afar, along with the stagehands and host of the Orbiting Human Circus as mysteries and wonders alike are unravelled.

I feel like it's hard to talk too much about the story and characters themselves without spoiling a lot, so I sort of want to focus on the sound design/music here. For example, there's a scene in the second season (Naughty Till New Years) where Julian has been soaked through by the rain, alone, experiencing a panic attack, and has to light the stove in his room by himself so he can warm up. And he feels helpless because he's never been able to do it by himself no matter how many times he's been shown. But when trying to stir the coals one strikes on the metal sides, and sounds like a musical chord. And he purposefully starts to stir the coals more and more to try and create that sound again, and he starts to calm down and realises the music is going on without him. Because the music is real. And suddenly the simple act of lighting a stove by oneself becomes this... triumph? It's so simple and so pure and I can't do it justice with words because it's something that... has to be listened to!

And the musical saws. I didn't know they were an actual instrument, but they are! And their basically melancholic whimsy in its most refined form! Am I hyping this up too much? Most likely. I also love the parallels between the different ways saws are seen to be used for cutting wood to making music by Julian by his parental figures, transforming from something he fears to something he loves:

Julian: When I first ran away to Paris.

[Young Julian screams]

I woke up one morning and I—I didn’t really—it was when I was first at my great-grandfather’s, and I didn’t know my great-grandfather very well yet, and his apartment was really big and I turned this corner and I saw my stepfather there with a saw.  He was sitting down and it was in his lap.  But then my eyes adjusted and I saw it was my great-grandfather. He was sitting down in a chair and he had the saw balanced, um, between his knees. I had startled him when I’d screamed, and he just looked at me and he, he asked me to scream again.  [Laughing]

And so I did.

[Half-hearted scream]

He said, ‘Perfect G major’.  And then he told me to scream again.

[Young Julian holding a scream note over saw music]

And the saw on his lap started singing, and I had never seen anything like that before, I’d never heard anything like that before, it was so beautiful.  It’s like an angel!  And I kept singing.  He told me to follow the tune.

And that was how my great-grandfather got me to sing.

In one of the Q&A's Julian Koster (the creator and writer of the podcast) talks about how his grandmother served as the inspiration for how he uses audio and sound that I really love:

"Um… the question that a lot of people asked was “What are some inspirations for the Orbiting Human Circus?”  Um, things that I’d heard or listened to and, um, probably the biggest inspiration for me about what you can do with, uh, recorded sound and what that can be actually were these letters that my grandmother used to send me on cassette.  She used to make these, uh, recordings on tape, she was kind of obsessed with tapes, and she made all these recordings on tape.  She was… she was a really, really magical woman.

She lived in this crazy, rambling house out at the border of Queens in New York, and this place called Newhide Park, and, uh, it was just full of all these old things from a world that didn’t exist anymore, I mean, except in her house, and that I got to play with and be around, and there were all these buckets of rainwater everywhere, she collected rainwater, and I used to get to, I just have all these memories of playing with rainwater and she used it for all these different things and, uh, she was… just an incredibly creative, original, very free-spirited person and, um, her sisters were blind, um, and so I don’t know if this is where it started but she always did letters, her letters were cassettes and she would send me these tapes and it would be my favorite thing in the world when they would come, and I would put it on and it would be my grandmother’s voice and she’d be answering questions that I’d asked her in the last tape that I’d sent her – we’d send tapes back and forth.

I’d record in my tape recorder talking to her and she’d record in her tape recorder talking to me, and so, much like this, she’d be answering questions and she’d stop and she’d listen to my tape and listen to more questions and then tell me the answers to those questions and then, um, she would record things – she would just go places!  Like, if she was going out somewhere, she’d bring the tape recorder with her and she’d just hit record and she would carry it around and she’d just record what was happening, not even narrating it or anything, like the tape recorder would just be going for twenty minutes, it would be sometimes a whole side of a cassette, and uh… and it was just, you’d be in this environment with her, and so I’d listen to all the sounds and I’d imagine all the things that were happening in the places that she were—was, and I would disappear into them."

I personally tend to have both a soft spot and certain wariness of surreal fantasy, especially when coupled with mystery, because it can start out strong but then have little payoff, or be difficult to follow. Especially when things are handwaved with "and it was all a dream" or "and they were a ghost the whole time" and it's not that the Orbiting Human Circus avoids all those tropes per se, but the way it presents itself is something you want to simply lose yourself in and be pulled along by at first, and by the start of the second season (the first season is fairly short, only eight episodes) you find yourself more intrigued by the mysteries, and for every answer I got left me more curious and excited. The idea of what even makes something or a person real, what it means to be truly heard and understood, and the way it's been explored in the story so far always brought a smile to my face and has yet to dissapoint.

Chouinard: [Sighs] Julian, that first night.

Julian: Mm.

Chouinard: Coco. He was still able to talk, and, er… well, we spoke.  He wanted me to tell you something. He said that when you met, you told him a story and disappeared.

Chouinard: He said this moved him because of a story his mother used to read him when he was little.

Julian: Really?

Chouinard: He wanted you to know this story.

Narrator: Mr. Chouinard closes his eyes.

Chouinard: How did it go?  Ah. There are monsters, and they are about to eat a little child, and suddenly a fairy, she comes, she snap her finger, all the monsters disappear.  The child, they ask the fairy, ‘How did you make the monsters disappear?’  And the fairy, she say, ‘The monsters are not real.’  And the child asks the fairy, ‘Are you real?’  And the fairy, she asks the child,

‘Is love here?’

But Coco’s mother is really asking him is love here, because it is a tradition when reading this story that the parent is asking their child this question. Now, Coco, he know, of course, love is here right now in this moment.  His mother is telling him a story, is very nice, she is running her fingers through his air, and so he answers ‘Yes’ for the child in the story to the fairy,

‘Yes, love is here.’

And the fairy says,

‘Then I am real.’  

And then she snap her finger [snap], and she disappears.  And then the child disappears!  And then the book disappears, right from the hands of Coco’s mother!  [Laughs] This is what they do, is like a magic trick.  

- Twelthly, it's a Scream (Naughty Till New Years)

There are two seasons so far, the series is still ongoing, but production for the third has been halted due to covid. The first has eight episodes around twenty minutes, the second (Naughty Till New Years) has fourteen episodes that vary between twenty five to fifty minutes long.

I don't exactly know how to end this, but I hope people give this podcast a listen during the Holidays, or any other time of year, when you want something to warm your soul. And I'll leave another quote from the Q&A here too, because I love it too:

"But to me, I feel like so many of the most important things in the world and in this universe are in the realm of what you’d call “imaginary”, you know, like the parents lovingly telling kids a story like the Great Recitating Platypus or Santa Claus or anything, is an act of love and, you know, that love is not material, um… there aren’t any, you know, material representations of love, there’s just, um, material expressions of love and, uh, I don’t think there’s anything in the world more important to those parents or to those kids or anybody, you know, than love, and…

And so, I think so much of the substance of life actually is, um, what you would describe as imaginary and only really a part of the substance of life is real, what you’d call real"

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

[sachirou-senpai]

Kageyama, Yaku, Kenma and Hinata as sugar daddies.

request: ELLIE YOU CAN'T GET AWAY WITH PUTTING THIS IN MY HEAD AND LEAVING ME LIKE THIS AHSHSUSVSHS,,,, can I request some headcannons for Kageyama, Yaku and Kenma as sugar daddies? Or Hinata!!! Even though he's a sugar baby already shsghsbas ;;; Or you can choose whichever you like best between them??? I will be happy with every crumb I can get 🙏

warnings: mentions of s*x and sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships, hoshuimi is a nosy bitch, yaku has the confidence of a god (must be a leo thing) kenma is so cute ahhh, Hinata just wants someone to love and call mommy, i really love this. implied fem!reader for hinata, although i guess you could call a gn person or a male reader mommy. whatever floats your boat.

a/n: this was very fun. ;)

Kageyama:

what the fuck

how did he even get a sugar baby?

great question

it happened because he had a fuckton of money and had no idea what to do with it

and hoshuimi, of course

cause hoshiumi's a nosy lil bitch

saw kageyama checking his bank account app on his phone and was like

WHAT THE FUCK WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MUCH MONEY

it's cause he never spends it

hoshuimi offhandedly tells him he should get a sugar baby

later that night kageyama googles what a sugar baby is

he's shook

doesn't think about it for months

until he gets this ad for a "meet sugar babies" website on a volleyball video he was watching

he thinks oh hell, why not

so he signs up, and meets you

he's so awkward oh my god

but you think it's adorable, and you're glad he's not some old dude

he doesn't know what to do so he asks you a lot of questions about what you like and stuff

the first thing he sends you, i kid you not, was a fucking volleyball

you call and ask him about it and he's like:

"it's the best quality"

you keep it.

eventually he starts sending you stuff you ask for, which works out better for both of you

you help him with the concept of a 'luxury life'

eventually gets a black card and literally just says:

"please use it for me, i don't know how"

and you're like damn okay

the first time you attempt to do something sexual he literally short circuits

you have to explain to him that a sugar baby usually repays their sugar daddy/mommy with sexual favors

he makes the 😮 face

he didn't even think you were sexually interested in him?

he'd be lying if he didn't think you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

and he's definitely had some um, not so pure dreams about you

and definitely jacked off to the pictures you've sent him

which he just thought was to show him what you liked

so god if he didn't fucking jump your bones right then and there

it was uh, intense, to say the least

best sex of your life

and the cuddles afterwards? on point.

you two get very attached

he really really likes you

introduces you to the team

which was embarrassing

eventually, you decide you want to become financially independent, and so you tell him you want to cancel the agreement

he fucking cries

he so desperately doesn't want to lose you

cause he's fallen in love with you

he tells you about all of the feelings and how you make him want to do anything for you and he's sobbing while telling you

you're shook, because you've kinda been developing feelings too

so you're like, okay, no sugar daddy stuff, be my boyfriend instead

total 180°

tackles you and holds you, on the floor, for like 3 hours

he still spoils you, it's a habit of his now

but you don't really mind, because you have one hell of a man by your side

(gimmie a kageyama pls)

Yaku:

knows exactly what he's doing and knows exactly what he wants.

You.

he probably met you at some sort of event, you going because you were the personal manager for some really weird guy there

he knew he wanted you the second he saw you

and he was straight up about it too

we're talking like walking up to you and saying:

"quit your job, let me take care of you."

and you're surprised, because who just says that?

you don't even know what happened, but you said yes

quit your job that night, and left with him

yeah, you fucked on the first night but so what?

he is the best sugar daddy omg

he already knows what you like just by looking at you

(no he doesn't, he's just called Alisa so many times she swears her phone is gonna break)

he's more of a surprising you with what he's gonna buy kind of guy, but he always enjoys when you surprise him

he takes you everywhere with him

he has a game in another country? you're going. guaranteed.

he just always wants to be near you

it's clearly more than a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship from the start

and he likes it that way

he just doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he doesn't say anything

you two fuck....a lot

it's clearly not because of the arrangement anymore

you're just naturally drawn to each other

it's intense

and you spend a lot of time together, not only because he literally takes you everywhere

just because you like it

there'll be periods of time where he doesn't buy you anything and you don't buy anything either, but you still stick around and you still have sex

and that's when he knows you actually have feelings for him

HE'S SO HAPPY OMG

you've been in the arrangement for several years

you're practically dating

and so one day he just asks you to marry him and you're like

fuck yes

who wouldn't want to marry yaku morisuke?

cause i sure as hell want to marry him

Kenma:

i think kenma likes to watch twitch streams in the background while he's playing his games

it's just relaxing

with a fake account, of course, he didn't need all the hype from when he joined their stream

one day, a streamer he was watching ended their steam and raided yours

he first heard your voice and was SHOOK

you had the prettiest voice he'd ever heard

so he looked at his computer screen and nearly died

how could someone have such a pretty voice and a pretty face?

wildly unfair, he thought to himself

at first it was just a low-key thing

he'd watch your streams, whenever you were streaming

it was a miracle you two never streamed at the same time

you were just his go to relaxation method

one day, he heard you mention offhandedly that you were struggling with money

and so you know what he did?

donated 10k

he was already basically in love with you, so why not help you out?

and your reaction was perfect

you started smiling so hard, and thanking him over and over

it put a smile on his face for the next week, kuroo though he was sick

and he did it again, the week after

and again

and again

and so finally you messaged him asking why he kept sending you so much money

and he just sent you his number, with the message "call me"

you were so nervous

but you did

AND OH MY GOD IT WAS KODZUKEN?

WHAT?

you were such a big fan

and you really didn't know what to do

he was ever so kind, (lmao no) and just said:

"let me take care of you. i don't want you to ever have to stop streaming and go find a job that makes you more money."

you're so surprised you can't even speak

WHO SAYS THAT??

KENMA FUCKING KOZUME, APPARENTLY

you agree so hesitantly, and he notices

"you deserve it, please don't feel bad. i want to spend my money on you."

"o-okay"

"good."

and so that's exactly what he does, he'll just send you money every week

and little trinkets too, stuff you've mentioned in your streams or in the calls you'll have

you don't live close at all, but you wanted to meet up

he was sooooo nervous

kuroo, yet again, thought he was sick

and he probably was

but he came to you, and you just walked around a little, you showing him your favorite things about your city

he was just staring at you the whole time

he had come to stay with you for a week

and insisted that you stayed in a hotel with him, even though your house was literally right there

you slept in different beds

until one night you just got really paranoid about the horror game you played earlier

so you walked over and just got into bed with him

he was half asleep, but all he knew was the person of his dreams was laying in a bed next to him and he would hate himself in the morning if he didn't hold you close as physically possible

you woke up in each other's arms

annnnd that's when you both knew you were done for

he asked you to move in the day before he left

you said yes

(now i want a kenma too)

Hinata:

oh my god what a baby

he just wanted someone to be with, really

atsumu was the one who suggested it

after kenma stopped sponsoring Hinata, he ended up learning how to manage his money and he was really good at it??

he invested well and now had a loooot of money

he was talking about his money like a Grown Man

and atsumu was like,

"do ya spend any of it?"

"yeah, on my investments"

"no, i meant like on yourself"

"well for food and stuff"

"LIKE FOR ENJOYMENT"

"m-my gym membership?"

"oh my fucking god"

so atsumu tells him to get a sugar baby

"a baby? i don't have the time for a child!!!"

queue atsumu literally dying inside

he shows Hinata an app and is like,

"don't worry, they're all grown"

"oh"

so atsumu helps him fill out the profile for the app

atsumu uwu's inside when he sees Hinata checked the box for 'emotional fulfillment only'

cause like, what a precious baby

anyway, a couple hours later he gets a match

and he's like

"WOAH ATSUMU LOOK LOOK HOW PRETTY THEY ARE"

"damn, okay hinata, nice kill"

he's so happy to find someone to talk to besides his family and volleyball friends

you two talk

ALL

THE

TIME

and he sends you the cutest things omg

like a little plushie he saw? in the mail the next day

some MSBY merch? yeah, he's sending that too

little snacks he thinks you'd like? yep, those are going too

he sends you the stereotypical sugar baby stuff too, like pretty dresses and suits and lingerie and jewelry

he was blushing so hard when he tried to put the lingerie in the mail, atsumu had to do it for him

a couple days later, you send him a picture of you wearing it

he

wow

sure, he knew you were pretty, and was undeniably physically attracted to you

but he'd never felt like that

he took the LONGEST shower

he couldn't even message you till the next morning because he knew he'd have to look at the picture and god he'd never get to bed if he looked at it any more

he was surprised in the morning when he had messages from you saying sorry and that you shouldn't have sent it and that you didn't mean to make him uncomfortable

that you would understand if he wanted to call off the arrangement

he was like WHAT???? NOOOO

so he drives alll the way to where you live and pounds on your door

you're like hinata what?

"PLEASE DON'T THINK THAT I HATE YOU AND WANT TO CANCEL THE ARRANGEMENT I JUST DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO YOU LOOKED SO PRETTY AND I JUST I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT AND THEN I STARTED THINKING ABOUT BAD THINGS LIKE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE IF YOU DID NAUGHTY THINGS TO ME AND I WANT IT I WANT IT REALLY BAD I-"

you're kissing him

wait

YOU'RE KISSING HIM???

holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit

he doesn't know what to do

he's desperately trying to process what you're doing, but with your tongue shoved down his throat that's a little hard

so you know what he does?

he fucking whines

and you're like ohhhh shittttt

yeah you fuck

and you get the nickname mommy

which you love

such a sweet relationship

yes, relationship

you got together

he's so happy

looks like he got laid all the time

(which he usually did, but that's beside the point)

he's just giddy

and it's the cutest thing

10/10 relationship, please cherish him forever

(now i want a kageyama, yaku, kenma and a hinata DAMNIT)

oh my god this was so fun and perfect

@warmbearhugs i'm so glad we talked about with this, and i'm so glad you requested it

taglist: @warmbearhugs wow, i've tagged you 3 times in this post now @beanst0ck @your-local-abyss @oof-she-needs-therapy @tendouthighs @oyasenpai @senkuwu-chan @lovetsuki @kuroos-babie @keijination

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

[carryingthebanner]

Reincarnation au for @violetwolfraven for the @newsiesgiftexchange I hope you love it, have a happy new year! <3

You, Again.

Words: 1,946

Content Warnings: Slightly alludes to internalized homophobia, Sad Jack :(, Somewhat uses distraction as a coping mechanism, Repressing emotions

Jack

“I will wait, I am waiting, and I will love you with all the love I possess until this body is ash and I begin my search for you again.”

- Tyler Knott Gregson

All Jack wants is to find him again. Him. Davey.

Jack missed the warm, fluttery feeling he got whenever Davey hugged him. He missed how Davey would wave his ink-stained hands around wildly whenever he was frustrated with an assignment or had a not-so-good day selling newspapers. He missed being able to look into his eyes and know exactly what he was thinking. He missed how Davey’s voice got progressively faster when he talked about something he was passionate about, and Jack, in a fit of giggles, had to beg him to slow down so he could understand what he was saying. He missed going over to the Jacobs’ tenement and listening in fascination whenever Davey occasionally spoke to his family in Yiddish. Jack was a New Yorker - he wasn’t easily impressed, but Davey could do something so simple and make it look so intriguing. Jack missed Davey’s shy smiles, and the sound of his laughter was like music to Jack’s ears. He missed every part of him, because to Jack, Davey was a part of him.

Jack sighs and slumps further into his seat.

He could only hope that he was a part of Davey.

Davey

“What if, you and I were meant to part ways, only so that we could find each other again.”

- Unknown (?)

Jack didn’t know. How could he? It wasn’t like defying social norms was on Davey’s daily to-do list. A bunch of kids banding together to form a union and strike was completely different than just one kid, alone, telling his best friend that he was in love with him. And that was Davey’s dilemma. In his previous life, and probably in this one too.

Davey deletes a few words off his document, then drums his fingers against the table. It didn’t matter which life he was in, one thing was for sure: his love for Jack hadn’t changed. He’s supposed to be jotting down notes on why people are drawn to art and why people are drawn to creating art so he can write an essay on the connection between psychology and art, but his mind is only interested in thinking about Jack Kelly - like it has been for the past 19 years.

Davey usually thought about Jack once every couple of months, but the past week had been filled with constant thoughts about him. Not that he was complaining, but he didn’t want to get hung up on the idea of being with Jack and then get his hopes up. It was ancient history now, especially since there was no guarantee that Jack would be well… Jack. Some people came back as animals, some people came back as plants, some came back looking like their past life’s identical twin, and some came back as well… Davey.

Davey was still the same Davey, but some things had slightly changed. For instance, he had been interested in world history, but now, he was more into art history (which may or may not have been influenced by a certain someone). He hated rye bread now but loved sourdough. He was left handed and not right handed. But the biggest change was his appearance. He was still rather slim, and his hair still dark, but he was taller, his once blue eyes were now hazel, and his previously curly hair was now straight.

Davey feels a tap on his shoulder. He looks up, and sees an employee pointing to something in front of his laptop. He looks over at it, grateful to see a steaming cup of coffee. He smiles and begins to thank them, but they had already walked away.

Jack

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever.”

- Alfred Lord Tennyson

Jack had never been in love. He thought he had, but if he was, then what exactly did he have with Davey? Jack loved Davey so much that it hurt. And the biggest tragedy of it all was that he never got to show it.

He never got to hold his face and trace his jawline with his finger. He never got to watch the look on his face after they exchanged “I love you’s” for the first time. He never even got to court him properly. The closest Jack ever got to expressing his feelings was telling Davey how much he meant to him - as a friend. Being so in love with that boy but never acting on it? That nearly killed him.

Fear had never held Jack back.

But Jack was afraid of Davey.

Not Davey in general… but his emotions toward him. Jack could never admit how he longed to hold him at night. Or how many times he tried to paint those beautiful blue eyes, only for the perfect color of paint never to be found. Or how he longed to kiss him, just once. Even holding his hand would do. Just anything other than a platonic hug or friendly pat on the back.

Jack shakes his head, as if doing that would shake the regret away, too.

Jack couldn’t tell Davey how he truly felt about him.

No, Jack couldn’t tell Davey, not in his previous life or his current one.

Davey

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” - Wuthering Heights

Davey sighs and closes his laptop. Another day wasted, he thinks to himself, stuffing it into his bag. He picks up his coffee and takes a sip, cringing slightly when the cold liquid hits his tongue. Coming here was usually his last resort. It provided enough solace for him to study, read, and get work done, but clearly not even the bungee chairs, lofi music and good coffee could help him today. He slings his bag over his shoulder and quickly walks out of the door, rummaging around in his pockets for his phone. He takes it out, puts an address into Google Maps, and starts on his way.

Jack

“I wish I could turn back the clock. I'd find you sooner and love you longer.” - Unknown (?)

Jack can’t take it anymore. He had had a hard time in his first life, always beating himself up for looking at Davey as more than a friend. He had spent so long hating himself, hating the world and how it held him back. The life before this one always seemed to have a grey cloud hanging over it, even in some of the happy moments. This life slowly seems to be enveloping itself in regret. Jack doesn’t want that. He couldn’t bear it.

Which is why he came here.

Medda’s Theatre, which is now known as the Historic Museum of Theatre, has always been a place of refuge for him. Back in his first life, he often came here to clear his mind, get good advice, and lose himself in art.

Now he was here so he wouldn’t lose himself.

Davey

“You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate and what's written in the stars.” - Anaïs Nin

Davey steps inside, pays for his ticket, and strolls down the corridor. A quick visit here for some inspiration is definitely what he needs. He passes some well-preserved costumes, a couple of instruments that had once belonged to famous composers, and framed first drafts taken from the notebooks of renowned playwrights. He continues walking. An infographic about the history of the portrayal of romantic relationships in theatre covers the wall. Another wall has the original sheet music to dozens of the most iconic love songs in musical theatre. Further down the hall, there’s a section that informs museum-goers on how classic love stories have influenced some of the greatest works of art in theatre.

It was almost as if the universe was purposely taunting him, reminding him of what he and Jack could’ve been, but weren’t allowed to be.

His pace quickens, and he sets off for the hall featuring set designs before getting lost in his thoughts.

In his previous life, he would speak Yiddish with his family, and it would get faster and less precise whenever he was talking to Sarah, because he would usually be talking about Jack. Sometimes Jack would be in the room with them, and even though Sarah always told him to slow down because Jack couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway, Davey still felt it was safer to talk faster just in case Jack one day woke up bilingual. She would laugh at her brother, telling him not to worry so much, but she understood. This was Davey. Davey kept things close to his heart and was careful to never open up in that way to anyone. Sarah knew she was the only one who he trusted with his secret, which is why he only spoke to her about it when the rest of their family weren’t there. Occasionally, Davey would dare to speak about Jack in front of Les, who understood Yiddish. However, when Davey used what Les would call “big words,” and spoke quickly, purposely stringing his words together so much that it sounded like a blur to the untrained ear, Les hardly knew what was being said, so his siblings could talk about his older brother’s feelings for Jack, the problems with society, and the pain that came with (what Davey thought was) unrequited love, essentially in private.

Davey rounds the corner and immediately comes to a screeching halt.

He notices the painting first.

Then the fingers that made them.

Javey

"My dear, our souls met long before our eyes did." - Unknown (?)

Jack gently grazes his fingers along the orange mountains, and it’s purple shadows. It’s his own painting - one he had done in his past life. When he had painted it, it was just after the strike’s first disastrous attempt, where all hope seemed lost. His lifelong friend, Crutchy, was on the verge of dying, the newsies were all bruised and battered, and all he wanted, more than anything, was to run away. Running away wouldn’t have erased his mistakes, but it could’ve helped him start with a clean state.

He came here, but what did he really want? To get closure? Or figure out what his next move should be? Maybe to finally let things go and start living? Yes, that has to be it. There was no use dwelling on the past, even if the only person he’s ever loved was a part of it.

Davey desperately tries to catch his breath, but breathing currently seems impossible.

A million and one emotions encompass him, and he’s having trouble processing each one. It’s him.

Although he was shorter, his deep-set hazel eyes now hooded and green, his hair not as light (or long) as it once was, and a myriad of other things, it was still the same soul. The same soul with the same heart and the same mind that Davey originally fell in love with.

And he would recognize that anywhere.

Jack stops running his hands along the brass name plate and pauses. He definitely knows when someone is staring at him - courtesy of his past life experiences. In his current life, he had grown up in Albuquerque, not too far from Santa Fe. It was a nice, quiet life, and Jack loved not having to be on his toes all the time. However, it didn’t take him long to realize that you can take the boy out of New York, but you can’t take New York out of the boy.

Jack turns his head.

His heart skips a beat.

In fact, his heart is two seconds away from completely bursting out of his chest.

For a second, no one moves. No one says a word. Time seems to stop.

An eternity passes.

How do you prepare for something that you’ve dreamt about and wanted for so long?

Something that was so close that it looked like you could reach out and touch it, but yet so far that it was always just out of your reach?

This was their moment, one they both had trouble believing they would ever get to experience.

But it was here now, happening in real time.

They want to run, they want to scream, they want to cry, but all they can do is whisper, “It’s you.”

[kindahoping4forever]

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies​ and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below! 

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Series Masterlist

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them. 

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug. 

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm. 

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile. 

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke. 

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her. 

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.” 

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it.  “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.” 

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds. 

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you. 

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling. 

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence. 

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum. 

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit. 

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you. 

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly. 

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress. 

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy. 

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now. 

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions. 

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.” 

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up. 

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton. 

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses. 

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.” 

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing. 

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” 

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave. 

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return. 

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. 

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles. 

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up. 

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while. 

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home. 

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him. 

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains. 

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?” 

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes. 

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles. 

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him. 

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal. 

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

@mymindwide​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​​ @pxrxmoore​​ @loveroflrh​​ @ghostofmashton​​ @sexgodashton​​ @feliznavidaddycal​​  

@castaway-cashton​​ @ashtonlftv​​ @cashtonasfuck​​ @megz1985​​  @angelicfluffs​​ @findingliam-o​​ @youngbloodchild​​  @irwinsbetch​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands  @realisticnotes  @makeamovehemmings @golden166​ @burstintocolor

​@youngblood199456​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​ @seanna313​​​  @zhangyixingxing1​​​ @stardust-galaxies​​​  @zackoid​​​

@lovelybonesetc​​​ @xsongxbirdx​​​ @justhereforcalum​​​   @ashtonangst​​

@laura66sos​​​ @calumrose​​​ @karajaynetoday​​​ ​​​ @jazzyangel242​​​ @babylon-corgis​​​  @heyheyhaleyd​​​ @calmsweetcreature​​​

@spicycal​​​ @talkfastromance4​​​  @holystxne​​​

@meetmedowntown​​​ @myloverboyash​​​

@irwindoll​​​​​​ @carrielfisher​​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​​ @creampiecashton​​​ @lovelywordsblog​​​

@trix-arent-for-kids​ @uh-huhh-honey​ @tobefalling​ @aladyofalbion​ @likehuhdude​

@curlycalums​​​  @cxddlyash​​​  

@fedorable-killjoys​​​  @iamcalumswhore​​​   @i-like-5sos​​​  

@aquarius-hood1996​  @babylonashton​  

@begluketostay​   @mateisit-balsamic​​

@crazyforcal​​   @neso-k​​   @deliciouslydisturbed365​​  @blxndeprincess

[iridescent-honey]

Mysterion characterization

In my opinion, he is one of the most mischaracterized people in the hero franchise.

He is often portrayed as an angsty, edgy, and a ruthless antihero.

Although I can see how that conclusion is come to, here are my thoughts:

*TL;DR at the bottom in red*

*This information is coming from both the game and show, if I can find direct clips, I will show them*

I used the word anti hero, allow me to elaborate on that briefly. For anyone unaware, an antihero is described as “a central character in a story, movie, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes.” I would also describe it as someone who is fighting for good while being uncaring/unhelpful to others if it means the majority of the public is helped. Note that the definition of what an antihero is varies from person to person. Poorly characterized antiheroes are written as villains who are part of the hero’s team for some unknown reason.

The first episode we see Mysterion in is in S13E2, he is seen as a rival to The Coon, however he does not view himself that way, in his eyes, he is helping because that’s what he should do, not to spite Cartman.

I think this episode is often forgotten when people view him as an anti hero. We see him expose his identity and putting himself in danger to not have citizens caught in The Coon’s attempt at blackmail. Not my exact idea of an antihero however I digress.

Spoilers for the the game

In the game, the entirety of freedom pals aren’t introduced until the halfway point, however Mysterion, Wonder Tweek, and Tuppaware are introduced very early as opposition. After a lovers quarrel between Tweek and Craig, Doctor Timothy have an argument causing the two factions to fight. Craig is a mandatory player on your team.

While you fight the Freedom Pals, Tweek is the one doing the most talking (I say Tweek because it is very out of character for Wonder Tweek). Throwing insult after insult at Craig, even when the insults aren’t at him directly, Craig respondes as though they were. Tuppaware is not to important, he does his job and fights you, nothing too noteworthy there. But this is about Mysterion so I’ll move on.

In this fight, nearly every time you attack him or his teammates, he responds with how we are only being used by The Coon and we can do better than the Coon and Friends franchise. Also, note that when the opposition show interest in attacking Wonder Tweek he appears fearful, Tuppaware looks disgusted, but Mysterion appears surprised? Disappointed? I’m not quite sure but it’s definitely different than the rest of the Freedom Pals’s reaction. (I know how pointless it may seem to analyze the facial expression when they’re drawn, well, like that. But also consider this! I don’t care.) The best way I could describe it is as being upset/disappointed that that he is being attacked. It is my belief that this is because he doesn’t want to fight. This is countered by the fact that he is a relentless fighter. The only time he isn’t is stated before: the first time you fight him.

The second time however is a different story, he attacks you ruthlessly. He gives you one chance at the beginning of the of the fight, saying that “Fighting Doctor Timothy is a mistake beyond your comprehension.” But afterwards makes no attempts to help you, instead changing to his one liners.

This is another thing I need to talk about. I have a post made for the future where I talk about way too many of his quotes but I’ll summarize it for you.

Being angsty

Being ruthlessly

Being dark

Being concerned for his teammates

Cheering his teammates on

There are some more types but these are the most important because a lot of his lines are dark, angsty, and ruthless and tend to overshadow his other quotes. The appeal to throw in the towel and say that he’s an antihero would be very easy but I truly don’t see it. Despite his quotes he isn’t as angsty in most parts and is seen being distressed for other teammates and trying to help whoever he can.

I believe that he says his quotes only to scare the opposition. When he interacts with his teammates and civilians he stops the angsty-ness and acts as a protector. In my opinion, an antihero would not care about their perception, if the job gets done that’s all that matters. But clearly Mysterion doesn’t abide by those rules.

Although alignment charts are a gross oversimplification for explaining characterization but I think it is a very simple way to explain it. On the character sheets, the alignment is more simplified and only allows lawful, neutral or evil. He describes himself as lawful but that is not a proper alignment. I am still torn on his alignment but I will show three alignments definitions then my thoughts.

Definitions

Lawful Good

A lawful good character acts as a good person is expected or required to act. They combine a commitment to oppose evil with the discipline to fight relentlessly. They tell the truth, keep their word, helps those in need, and speaks out against injustice. A lawful good character hates to see the guilty go unpunished.

Lawful good is the best alignment you can be because it combines honor and compassion.

Lawful good can be a dangerous alignment when it restricts freedom and criminalizes self-interest.

Lawful Neutral

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs them. Order and organization are paramount to them. They may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or they may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government.

Lawful neutral is the best alignment you can be because it means you are reliable and honorable without being a zealot.

Lawful neutral can be a dangerous alignment when it seeks to eliminate all freedom, choice, and diversity in society.

Neutral Good

A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do. They are devoted to helping others. They work with kings and magistrates but do not feel beholden to them.

Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias for or against order.

Neutral good can be a dangerous alignment when it advances mediocrity by limiting the actions of the truly capable.

*I did not add lawful evil because it is so wildly out of character there is no point in talking about it.*

Breaking it down

Lawful Good

A lawful good character acts as a good person is expected or required to act.

Mysterion shows himself to be a good person without wanting payment many times. Most notably when he reveals his identity to prevent harm to other citizens, and when he shows kindness and hope to the player despite the character and their teammates showing none back.

They combine a commitment to oppose evil with the discipline to fight relentlessly.

The commitment to fight evil seems self explanatory so I will not acknowledge that, what I will elaborate on is the “discipline to fight relentlessly”. Earlier in the post, I explain how he seems to not want to fight but does so fiercely. This explains it. He is the calmest out of the heroes at nearly all times, the only time this is false is when a teammate is unjustly injured. While he does get angry, he is never seen actively trying to start a fight, but he will always end one.

They tell the truth, keep their word, helps those in need, and speaks out against injustice.

Throughout the series and the game, he never lies, however, he is never asked to tell the truth and I’m hesitant on saying that the lack of evidence is evidence. Despite that he does keep his word, his promise to protect his city, and promise to protect Karen are always fulfilled. When the Coon acts against the group, Mysterion is quick to shut him down.

A lawful good character hates to see the guilty go unpunished.

In the game, he tells us multiple times that being a hero is ugly. That the merciless don’t deserve mercy. He has made it clear that he is the bringer of karma.

Lawful Neutral

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs them.

Mysterion is an upholder of morals. His own ethics pave how he reacts and behaves. For the most part, he follows the law very closely, but he will break off and actions will become unforgiving if the person deserves it.

Order and organization are paramount to them. They may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard…

His origin as Mysterion was to organize the town through peace and to help stop crime. He tries to keep his team peaceful and succeeds when part of freedom pals. When the franchise was whole, the Coon could break his peaceful exterior.

or they may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government.

This is the most difficult to defend. Yes, he does feed information to the police, but only when they are passive crimes. When active crimes occur, he attempts to deal with the issue himself.

Neutral Good

This is not in line with his personal alignment identity, but this seems the most plausible. Allow me to elaborate:

A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do.

This has been explained in many places throughout this post and so I do not feel the need to repeat it.

They are devoted to helping others.

Once again, Mysterion is constantly seen putting others first: revealing his identity, handling Hindsight by himself, and risking his life and immortality to save them from Cthulhu.

They work with kings and magistrates but do not feel beholden to them.

This feels more natural than the last explanation for lawful neutral. He works with the cops in certain situations but is quick to work by himself or with his teammates if needed.

The alignments have been broken down and the evidence has been laid out, feel free to make your own decision.

TL;DR

Mysterion is not a dark antihero, he is a vigilante, a defender of peace, and beacon of hope to his citizens. He puts the needs and safety of others before himself.

Alignment possibilities: lawful good, lawful neutral, neutral good.

[theother9tenths]

Felix/Sylvain first kiss prompt that no one asked for but that I wrote today at work cos????

——————

“You ever kissed another man?”

Sylvain had to sputter to prevent the oncoming choke, yanking the flask away from his mouth.

The ball had been a horrid affair so far. It seemed that, despite upward of 90 minutes spent circulating the dance floor, not a single woman in Garreg Mach was interested in dancing with him. Sylvain was well aware of his “reputation” but he considered it a bit out of hand when literal strangers were rejecting him. The ladies had all formed some secret Anti-Sylvain coalition, bent on denying him the touch of any woman this side of Fherdiad. Upon this realization, Sylvain had sulked in a corner until Felix appeared with the flask he was holding now and the two of them had been sharing contraband whiskey for the past two hours, Sylvain wallowing in self-pity for his neglected libido.

Felix, for his part, had seemed his usual disinterested self all evening. Sylvain was honestly surprised he had decided to show up at all, let alone seek him out to share the oaken whiskey he had picked up in town until they were both red-faced and whispering in their mostly empty corner of the ballroom, observing the dancers through the lens of alcohol.

“Uhhh…. I mean… yeah, I have,” Sylvain tried his best to read Felix’s face, but Felix wasn’t even looking at him, glazed eyes staring vaguely off toward the array of spinning bodies under the chandeliers as though the image bothered him somehow.

“What’s that like?” Felix snatched the flask out of Sylvain’s hand without looking, downing another gulp as his gaze didn’t break from the dance floor.

Sylvain had no idea where any of this was coming from. “Uhhh… fine?” Felix didn’t have a reaction to that, so Sylvain followed his compulsion to fill the silence. “I mean, it’s not better or worse than kissing girls, just different. Honestly it seems like every woman in Fodland has been ‘warned’ about me so I might be doing it more often in the coming months.”

“Have you ever considered not kissing anyone like a normal person?” mumbled Felix in his typical grumpy fashion before thrusting the flask back toward Sylvain.

“That’s not ‘normal’ man, that’s stifled.” Sylvain took another swig and grimaced as the liquid burned his throat. He had drunk more than he meant to. Oh well. Nonchalant and tingling slightly, Sylvain decided to use his patented method of pressing forward until pushed back. “What about you?” he asked, his full attention now on Felix. “Have you ever kissed another man?”

“If I had, why would I have asked you what it’s like?” Felix snapped, snatching away the flask again. “You’re cut off. You’re asking drunk stupid questions and I can only stand your Sober Amount of those.”

“Hey, man, I don’t know your life,” Sylvain slumped back in his chair, head spinning slightly. Maybe Felix was correct to cut him off. This was stupid. What was the point of getting all dressed up and putting in effort if no one wanted to touch him? In his subconscious, he was aware that his playboy personality was just a character, but had he really made that many people upset with him? He found himself resenting the whole thing: the love that people had for his crest, the desire of every woman he came across to bear his children, and their disgust with him for taking advantage of that situation. As he stared up at the ornate ceiling of the grand hall, he suddenly felt stupid and alone.

No one has ever or will ever truly care for you.

Goddess damn it. That voice again. Sylvain knew when to quit an evening while he was ahead. Slinging himself forward, he stood up, catching himself on the table when he swayed slightly.

“Where are you going?” Felix bit, still not looking at him.

Sylvain groaned dismally. “It’s hot in here and this party is stupid. I’m going back to my room and going to bed. Thanks for the whiskey.” Sylvain took a step, swayed slightly, steeled himself, and walked deliberately out of the ball room.

Out in the courtyard, Sylvain breathed in the cooler night air. He paused for a moment to look up at the sky, the moon mocking him with its stoicism. With a huff, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and began trudging back toward the dormitories, now not bothering to cover up the drunken overzealousness of his footfalls.

But his walk was soon interrupted as he rounded a corner and caught a flash of blue hair. Ducking behind a pillar, he was able to get a closer look: in the shadow of the tower, he saw his professor speaking with Dimitri. Sylvain couldn’t make out their words, the two speaking in hushed tones, but Sylvain knew the body language of Dimitri’s nervous laughter, his arm reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Sylvain couldn’t make out a blush on his face, but he was almost certain it was there.

“Oh you idiot,” Sylvain whispered as he watched the two of them walk back toward the dance hall.

“What are you doing?”

Sylvain jumped with a yelp, the words having come from right next to his ear. He whipped around, his arm swinging wildly. Felix dodged it easily.

“Hey!” he barked. “Watch who you’re punching!”

“Why’d you follow me?”

Felix smirked, downing what was clearly the last of whiskey before answering. “You were right,” he said, wiping his mouth. “The party was boring. Didn’t expect to catch up with you so quickly, though. What were you even doing?”

“Eavesdropping, what does it look like?” Sylvain huffed.

Felix’s laugh was biting “On the Boar making puppy dog eyes at our professor?” he said haughtily. His voice was unwavering, but Sylvain didn’t miss the red on his cheeks or the looseness in his stance. They had split the flask fairly evenly, after all. “Old news.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Old news? I haven’t noticed it before!” Sylvain peeked back around the pillar, worried that their loud voices may have drawn attention. To his relief, the pair had disappeared behind the dining hall. He turned back to Felix. “How long has that been going on? He knows how focused on her work she is, right? Seems pretty fruitless to me.”

Felix’s eyes were full of ire. “Now you’re boring me,” he stated plainly before grabbing the front of Sylvain’s shirt, shoving him against the pillar, and kissing him fiercely.

Sylvain’s mind went blank for a long moment, surprise running through him like an electric shock. His flabbergasted awareness extended outside of himself, unable to process what was happening, his brain full of white noise. He felt as though he were looking upon himself from the outside, and noticed from that viewpoint that he had started kissing Felix back.

Sylvain hadn’t been lying when he said he’d kissed men before. It was different than kissing women. Women tended to be soft and pliant, with definite exceptions, whereas men always kissed like they had a hidden agenda, like the moment you let them within a foot of you, they’re already five steps ahead.

This was different. Felix kissed like he fought: like he had something to prove.

After several long moments, Felix finally released him. In his drunken, dopamine-flushed stupor, Sylvain noticed that his lips were slightly swollen.

Questions flew like a flock of pegasus in Sylvain’s head, chief among them “what the hell, man?” but the sentence he spoke, smirk spreading across his face was, “...still bored?”

This did not have the desired effect. Felix shoved him away, letting go of his shirt, and began to stomp off. “Go to bed, Sylvain!” he barked over his shoulder.

“Wait!” Sylvain teased, smile wide, bad mood forgotten as he chased Felix back toward the dormitories. “Now you’ve kissed a man, you have to tell me how it was!”

“Shut up!”

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 3 // Peace of Our Time

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | that one party scene from ultron

Warnings | mentions of drug usage, alcohol consumption, swearing?, kissing I think

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Taking a deep breath, I rolled the joint between my fingers, not really sure what I was doing. I sighed deeply, letting it tumble from my hand soundlessly into the small drawer next to my bed before shoving it shut, standing up as the wood thudded. I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands as I let out a frustrated noise.

The stress, the nightmares, everything - it was becoming unbearable. Every time I let my eyes slip shut, The General's face clouded my mind, haunting the edges until I had no choice but to see it, see him.

My head snapped up at the sound of a soft knock against my door, my eyes drifting from the closed drawer and back to the door.

"Doll, can I come in?" It was Bucky, my shoulders tensing even more. He couldn't find out. Hesitantly, I called out for him to come back in. The handle turned slowly, tauntingly, the rough wood creaking open as the super soldier pushed his way in. "Hey." He smiled, striding over to me, hooking an arm around my shoulders and placing a chaste kiss to my temple.

"Hi. What's up?" I pondered, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against Bucky's chest. He smiled into my hair, dropping another kiss there.

"Were going on a mission. Nat wanted to know if you were going." Bucky asked, cheek settles against the top of my head.

"Seeing as we don't even know of my powers still work, I'd say no. But you should feel free to go, I'd hate to stop you doing something you enjoyed." I smiled, turning my head to look up at him. Bucky smiled too, a sweet thing that tickled his eyes.

"I'm staying right here, doll. I think a mission might be too much for me to handle right now. Not to mention it's a HYDRA base they're taking down, memories are still to fresh." He smiled down at me, meeting my lips for a sweet kiss.

...

"There were more enhanced. Maria found them, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. We didn't see them coming." Steve rambled, letting his first connect with the door, the wood spluttering under his strength. "Shit." He mumbled, shaking his fist off and dropping his head forward.

Bucky stood up from where he sat on the bed, wrapping his arms around steve and resting his head against the Blonde's back. Steve tried shrugging him off, but the soldier wouldn't budge.

"Stevie, calm down. It's not your fault. You'd fill got what you needed." Bucky cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to Steve's neck.

"But what if it's not enough...what if the twins come back? I mean we didn't kill them, they're still out there." Steve muttered, but y/n could see from where she sat on the bed the way he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, shoulders slumping and jaw unclenching.

"We should get ready." Y/n mentioned, jumping up as the boys parted, all heading off to get ready for the party her dad was throwing in celebration.

...

Laughter chorused, glasses clinked against surfaces and mindless chatter created a soft hum that laid an undertone throughout the party. Upon arriving, I had clung to Bucky - who had equally clung to me - whilst Steve wandered off to mingle. If anything, it has benefitted me, as I got to find out why Bucky was such a ladies man in the 40s - and let me tell you, I never would've guessed that the Winter fucking Soldier, the man who taught me to throw a knife and never miss, who taught me how to dislocate someone in over 50 different ways, was one of the best dancers I'd ever meet.

A little applaud echoed from the bar as Bucky finished the song in a dip, letting his arms cradle me as he held me close to the floor. As we straightened, Bucky was drawn off by someone tugging at his arm - I think it was Rhodey? I, on the other hand, was dying for a drink and was already half way to the bar.

As I approached, standing before the smooth counter, a glass of whiskey was already placed before me, a smirking Nat stood looking at me.

"Hey, Nat." I smiled, picking up the cool glass and taking a sip. Her smirk turned softer and leant against the bar.

"Hey, y/n. How's Bucky doin'" she said, brows raised. My cheeks flushed pink, eyes downcast as I mumbled lowly,

"He's good. We're good." And with that I picked up my drink, downing the rest in one and setting the cup on the side, wiping over my mouth with the back of my hand. Nat winked at me, picking up the glass and moving to giving me a refill.

Upon placing the glass in front of me again, I lifted it up and swirled the golden liquid in the glass.

"Do you feel like spicing this thing up a bit?" Nat murmured, my head instantly shooting up.

"And what did you have in mind?" I shot back, and she curled a finger in gesture for me to lean closer.

"I have an idea." She smirked, eyes darting towards a gap in the stairs, a wickedly mischievous sparkle in her eye as we look at Thor between the space, his hammer obscuring our vision of him completely. When she turned back to me, we were both smirking, the glint in my eyes matching hers.

"Tell me everything."

...

As we approached, me and Nat took a seat on the sofas surrounding a coffee table that the other Avengers were sat around. Nat longed near Clint whilst I shuffled my way next to Bucky, who was next to Steve on the other side.

"Hey, doll." Bucky murmured, laying his arm over my shoulders and kissing my temple. Steve offered me a smile, but nothing further as the three of us hadn't told anyone about our relationship yet.

"Did you guys know that there's a knife," Thor paused for a second, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find his words, "there's this knife, and it gets so hot, that it can instantly turn bread to toast if you cut it?" He asked, hands gesturing wildly and laughing with revelation at the end of his sentence, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa.

Everyone eyes him warily, whilst Steve and me were holding back laughter and Nat was shaking her head.

"Oh wow," Bucky mumbled from beside me, breath tickling me ear, "imagine stabbing someone with that." Me and Steve instantly stopped laughing, both turning to look at the super soldier between up with wide eyes and exchanged worried glances. Nat burst into laughter, as did Clint as Bucky grinned and chuckled at his own joke.

"Well, Barnes, if it was that hot it would instantly cauterise the wound so it wouldn't actually be that effective..." Tony explained, plopping down into a seat the other side of the table. I held back a glare, as did Bucky. As much as my dad had pissed me off recently, I'd rather be civil with him than argue non-stop.

"It's effective if you want information." I smirked, my expression mirrored by Nat.

"Exactly what I was thinking, y/n." She smiled darkly and everyone began to chuckle.

"Guys I have a feeling we just broke Thor." Steve laughed, pointing towards the god of thunder who was looking very conflicted.

"But why would you stab someone when you could have toast?" He wondered aloud, sparking a new laughing fit from the group.

"How about we play a game?" Maria wandered from where she sat, bringing her beer to her lips and taking a sip.

"Oh, yes!" Nat exclaimed, sitting up, "how about truth or dare?" She asked almost giddily as I suppressed my smirk.

"Yes! I love that game." I chimed in, met my that hums of agreement form the rest of the group. "Bucky, you should start."

"Okay." He smiled, leaning back into the sofa more and looking around the group. "Thor. Truth or dare?"

"I'll go truth." Thor replied hesitantly - it was fairly obvious that he had never played the game before. I could only imagine what party games are like up on Asgard.

"Who is the most boring person here?"

"Definitely Clint." Thor said through a laugh, making Clint glare at him.

"How dare you. At least I use a bow, Nat sticks to a fucking gun!" Clint protested, drawing even more laughter from the rest of us.

"But Nat actually had a cool backstory." I defended, and Clint sent me a glare too. "There, your go."

"So I just, ask someone if they want a truth or dare?" He clarified and we all nodded. "Nat, truth or dare?" Nat was lounging again, beer in hand.

"Truth."

"Who is the strongest avenger?" Thor smirked, sipping from his drink.

"You or Bruce." Nat smiled, and Bruce returned the gesture - if not sheepishly. "Y/n, truth or dare?" I smirked, our plan was falling into play.

"Dare." I said lazily, examining my nails and humming quietly.

"I dare you to pick up Thor's hammer." Nat said, eyeing up the hammer as it sat on the table. I scoffed, playing along, and stood up. The others cheered around me as I walked over to it.

"Don't worry if it's too heavy, y/n. I know you're only young." Thor smirked.

"Don't be too hasty, Thor. That girl can throw a punch." Steve commented. I began to hum a little louder, wrapping my hands around the handle. I tugged, and when I heard the gasps I knew it was working. A smirk graced my lips, and Rhodey chocked on his beer, whilst Thor's face dropped.

"Wait, what?" He scoffed, frowning at me.

"Holy shit! I did it!" I exclaimed through laughter, but my laughter was nothing to do with the fact that I'd lifted it. I stopped humming, and frowns settled on everyone's faces as the image of my lifting the hammer above my head melted into one of my stood next to the table, hands gasping the handle but the hammer refusing to move.

"I- I don't understand.." Thor mumbled, and Steve's eyes grew wide whilst Bucky smirked, catching on.

"Oh, you little bitch." Clint whined, and Bucky joined Nat and me as we laughed.

"It's not my fault all you idiots forgot I can literally control minds." I scoffed, but burst into laughter again when I caught a glimpse of Nat clutching her side as she giggled from the corner of my eye. As we finally calmed down, we were wiping tears of laughter from our cheeks, trying to let everyone else play the game again.

The evening moved on, and more laughs were shared as everyone ended up having their go at picking up the hammer. Needless to say, not one succeeded except Thor - much to my dad's dismay.

"So Capsicle, how's Barnes in bed?" Tony threw out casually after a while, and I choked on my beer as we were given pontes looks. I was still smudged in between the two super soldier, one smirking and one with red-flushed cheeks.

"What?" Steve stammered, eyes trained down as Thro and Clint smirked.

"Oh come on, Cap. We all heard you." Nat chimed in, red lips curled into a devious smile.

"I would ask about the third part involved but I don't really need to hear how fast my daughter made you cum." Tony waved off, and my cheeks instantly flushed with heat as my skin got hot.

"Dad!" I exclaimed, almost back to our playful banter as if nothing had happened - maybe the alcohol had momentarily ruptured our hate.

"What?!" My dad shot back, arms out in question as I glared him down.

"We could all hear you." Rhodey confirmed, a slightly disgusted expression written over his scrunched-up face.

"What was it you said - oh I know," Nat began, but suddenly everyone clutched their ears as a piercing ring invaded the almost-empty tower. Then it stopped.

Tony pulled out his phone-like gadget that I'd never understood before checking it, but the clang of metal grabbed our attention. The staggering, almost drunken-like mesh of metal and wires stumbled in front of us, whirring echoing in a soft croon. It turned slowly, and Steve quickly raised to his feet, whilst Bucky possessively crossed his arm over me.

"You're all monsters. You talk about such petty things when you're all killers."

"Stark." Steve bit.

"Jarvis," Tony begun, but was met with no response.

"I'm sorry I was asleep," it's head was wandering, searching the tower as it looked from side to side, "or...I was a dream."

"Jarvis, reboot." Tony pulled out with phone again, tapping the screen, "must have a buggy suit," he mumbled to himself.

"There was a terrible noise...and I was tangled." The robot grunted, holding a arm which lacked a hand up in front of its face, "strings...had to kill the other guy." He explained, and nearly everyone was standing now, on edge. My hand reached up my skirt, fingers wrapping around the handle of one of the small blades I'd strapped to my thighs - as usual. "He was a good guy.."

"You killed someone?" Steve frowned.

"Wouldn't have been my first call," the robot defended, and I began to unsheathe the knife. "But down in the real world we're faced with ugly choices."

"Who sent you?" Thor spoke, somehow the epitome of calm. I gasped as my dad's voice played from the robot, his words echoing as I stated at the mangled, skull-like head of the robot.

I see a suit of amour around the world...

Something must've clicked for Bruce, because he instantly looked towards my dad and mumbled,

"Ultron."

"In the flesh." It confirmed, "well, no. Not yet." People exchanged glances. "Not this Christmas, but I'm ready." It explained, looking at itself. I could see Maria take her gun off safety as she slowly stood and took it as a signal to bring the blade up in front of me. "I'm on mission."

"What mission?"

"Peace of our time." It declared, and before any of us could make a move sparks of flying gold-merged-yellow exploded from the walls behind the robot, blurts of sliver and red flashing across my vision as shards of glass were sent into the air.

[sdvvillagers]

I'm a sucker for parent headcanons, so could you make hcs for the mothers of the valley finding out they're pregnant, and also, them telling their spouses that they're gonna be daddies. Thanks a bunch!

Aw, me too!  I live for family dynamics and family fluff hcs, they’re always just so sweet to me.  I’ll give it my best shot!

Caroline - Now Caroline’s is a precarious one to answer because it all depends on whether or not you subscribe to the hc that Abigail is the wizard’s daughter, not Pierre’s.  Because let’s face it, her reaction is going to be WILDLY different depending on whether or not infidelity is a factor.  So, just to keep with the fuzzy feelings, I’ll go ahead and answer this as though Abigail is most definitely Pierre’s. XD The other version can maybe be for a later day.

Caroline knew from the very first moment she felt nauseous that she was pregnant.  She didn’t even need a test, at that point a test was just a formality.  Yet as sure as she was, she wanted to take a test to be able to show Pierre and surprise him with the good news.  When Pierre wasn’t looking, Caroline swiped a pregnancy test from a store shelf and took it immediately.  She grinned when it gave her the exact result she was expecting.  But how to tell Pierre?  Simply telling him wouldn’t be enough, it had to be something fun and exciting.  Just minutes before the store closed, Caroline approached the counter with a package of diapers to purchase.  Pierre stared in confusion, unsure of what Caroline was getting at.  She shook her head and laughed, apparently Pierre needed the direct approach.  On top of the diapers she placed the positive pregnancy test and a handful of coins and said “sorry to purchase it after it’s already used… I didn’t think you’d mind”.  Pierre became so lightheaded he nearly fainted.

Jodi - (had to reference a previous Kent ask to refresh my memory on a few things! XD) Jodi and Kent got married very young, but didn’t start a family right away.  They struggled financially right from the start and it didn’t ease up for quite some time.  But after two years of marriage, Jodi was growing impatient.  She wanted that perfect life you see in movies; she wanted to be the perfect wife and mother with a beautiful home and loving family and was disheartened that it wasn’t happening.  Despite their financial troubles, they decided to start a family anyway.  It was barely a month after they had made that decision that Jodi had a gut feeling to take a test.  She wasn’t showing any symptoms, but she just had a feeling that she needed to take a test.  When it came back positive, she ran into the living room and thrust the test into Kent’s hands.  His face went pale and he looked up at Jodi and responded with a nervous, quivering laugh, “Looks like I’m gonna need a second job”.

With Vincent, this pregnancy was a complete and utter surprise.  In fact, Jodi had no clue until Kent had already returned to the war and months had passed.  She was already past the first trimester when she couldn’t ignore her fatigue any longer.  Running the household in Kent’s absence and raising Sam on her own was a lot of work, but she felt more tired than she ever had in quite some time.  After visiting the clinic to run a few tests, it was revealed to her that she was pregnant, already a few months along by that point.  When she was finally able to reach out to Kent and tell him, he was silent on the other end for what felt like an eternity.  When he finally did speak, his voice cracked with emotion and all he could say was “I’m sorry I can’t be there for you”.  When the call ended, Jodi went into her room, closed the door, and was thankful that the sounds of Sam’s guitar drowned out her sobs.

Robin - When Robin took the test for her first pregnancy, she was terrified.  Sebastian’s father wasn’t exactly what you would consider “dad material” putting it mildly and the last thing Robin needed was to bring a child into an already complicated relationship.  However, finding out she was pregnant did at least serve as a catalyst for Robin to leave Sebastian’s father once and for all and head off on her own.  She never even told him that she was pregnant.  As for Robin’s second pregnancy, the news was received with much greater enthusiasm and joy.

It wasn’t long after her marriage to Demetrius that they started trying for a baby and Demetrius was frustratingly analytical of the entire process.  Ovulation calendars were drawn up, temperatures were taken obsessively to determine ideal fertility windows, everything was tracked to maximize their success rate.  Robin should have known this is how it would go, that was just Demetrius’ nature and although it was a bit much, she found it oddly endearing.  The first two tests that Robin took came back negative, causing Demetrius to get disheartened .  As a man of science, it was not easy to approach this with all the preparation and analysis he could and yet not see proper results.  Before Robin took her third test, she joked with Demetrius “third time’s the charm” to which Demetrius rolled his eyes and replied “if you believe in such superstition”... but there it was, a positive pregnancy test that brought a smirk to Robin’s face and made Demetrius’ eyes widen as he grinned with giddy enthusiasm.  The third time really was the charm and Demetrius was never so happy for superstition to hold truth.

[newtonsheffield]

Hi Molly! I’m not sure if my last (kind of long) message went through because of my shitty internet, but here’s a quick summary of what I said because I’m too lazy to retype it like I had before! Sooo, I said that I totally understand needing an outlet while working all day with people, especially healthcare. I look up to you because I hope one day to find something I can create that helps me and others enjoy too! I’m so glad that writing this universe is a hobby and not a burden!! I’ll be here to provide prompts until you tell me to leave 😂

I also said that I looooooved the drabble you wrote about what happened right after Enchanted, and it got me thinking about Sophie and Anthony and their interactions. Then I started thinking about other rare duos that we don’t see a lot and I was wondering if you had any headcanons for some, specifically a sibling + a spouse. Sophie and Anthony, Benedict and Lucy, Daphne and Kate, Penelope and Gregory (I had a random thought of Greg coming up with an idea for a fantasy novel and going to Pen and saying “I have this idea, but I don’t have the writing skills. Will you help me write it?” And Colin is just like “ummm I’m your brother. Why not pick me?” And Penelope and Gregory start having weekly book meetings, and eventually get a book published, and even though Colin acts annoyed, he loves that his wife and brother are close and wrote a book together. Random thought I had haha)

If you got the first message, I’m very sorry for the duplicate and go ahead and delete one of these haha

Abby! No! I didn’t get your other message!  Working with other human beings is an exhausting experience I think we can agree! Especially in healthcare where you tend to have to take on the problems of other people and that... takes its toll. People crying on your shoulder becomes very emotionally draining, for me at least: And when you’ve had to have a parent hold down their child who has screamed and cried and bitten you so you can take a tooth out that’s going to kill them if you don’t? Yeah It’s rough man  😂. Anyway! You shouldn’t look up to me, I have a genuine problem with redbull and I think it’s a breakfast drink and whenever I have a problem, I just get a new tattoo, which I’m gonna do again soon (🌷🌷) When I say it’s a problem, I mean: Like If I have one I have to have 3, thems the rules and I don’t make them. 

I love This idea of like odd bod Bridgerton pairings. And I LOVE the idea of Gregory and Penelope writing a novel together. Love and adore so I am gonna just leave it untouched! But! Here are some more Bridgerton rare pairs! 

Sophie knew it wasn’t fair to be nervous around Benedict’s family. They hadn’t been anything but kind to her, but still she couldn’t help but feel a little skittish around them. Especially his older brother Anthony. Anthony was an imposing man, even more so than his wife, who was so warm and friendly but so confidant and magnetic that people seemed to be drawn in by her energy. Anthony was in general, a stoic silent person, standing by his wife who was always laughing loudly, with the softest look on his face. But that kind of stoic silence made Sophie nervous. Because it was almost impossible to tell what was happening inside his mind. The last place she expected to find herself was in Anthony Bridgerton’s kitchen, the man right beside her, cooking in companionable silence, the sound of their partners floating back to them. You... like to cook? Sophie said quietly, questioning him lightly, watching carefully for his reaction. Anthony smiled softly, still hyper focused on his task chopping evenly I Do. I know Ben is useless in the Kitchen, much to our Mother’s heartbreak but I like it in here. Everything makes sense, there’s an order to do things in, I find it... calming He said shrugging and Sophie smiled, understanding just a little more about this man. I get that. I got into cooking because it felt nice to create something out of all the chaos so I get that. Anthony laughed Well, you’ve met my wife so I’m sure you know how much chaos is in my life.  Sophie laughed, her heart warming at the soft look in his eye anyway. And then, with a cheeky smirk on his face Anthony Bridgerton, the stern, stoic man said Plus I think we can agree earns you huge points in the bedroom no?  And Sophie couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from her chest You’re definitely not wrong Anthony. And next time she went to his house she was barely surprised when Anthony grinned at her and said Get in the Kitchen Sophie, we’re making Risotto! 

Lucy Abernathy had been very nervous when her new boyfriend Gregory had tugged hr by the hand into his Mother’s house and yelled out Hyacinth Bridgerton! Get your arse down here! Lucy loved how much Greg loved all of his siblings, and she had heard the way Gregory talked about his littlest sister. She’s like my favourite person, Luce! He said with his eyes shining brightly and Lucy’s breath had caught as he’d said Don’t be nervous, she’s gonna love you. But from the very first moment Hyacinth locked eyes with Lucy it was evident that she did not, love Lucy. Hyacinth raised her eyebrow as she took Lucy in Hy, this is Lucy who I’ve told you so much about! Lucy’s heart thumping a little wildly at the thought of Greg telling his little sister about her. Hyacinth clicked her tongue I assumed, given the way you were wrapped around her like an octopus. Lucy shifted uncomfortably. Gregory scoffed, I’m going to get some snacks and then we’re gonna play Playstation he said ruffling his sister’s hair. Hyacinth narrowed her eyes at Lucy as she kissed Gregory’s cheek before he left. You’re different than I thought you’d be. Hyacinth said lightly, I looked at your instagram I hope I’m wrong about what a princess you are. And Lucy had stared open mouthed after the young girl, sitting quietly all afternoon as Hyacinth quietly sniped at her, indignation and frustration rising in her chest until she snapped Hyacinth if you want to hate me that’s fine, but I love your brother and I’m not going anywhere! Lucy hissed at the girl when they were alone in the kitchen immediately feeling guilty that she’d let the stress get to her and then Hyacinth laughed brightly Ooooo She’s got some claws. Maybe I am wrong about you. And as odd as it was Lucy couldn’t help but feel she’d won this girl’s respect when Hyacinth begrudgingly slid a bowl of crisps in her direction.