#Nah then they'd have to carry it on a line

[obeythetoaster]

This gives off big Monty Python and the Holy Grail energy to me. Like they're going to start arguing about the airspeed velocity of unladen swallows.

[pacifymebby]

Afraid of Everyone / Alfie Solomons

Hurt/comfort tw kinda violence against women/misogyny, mostly just soft protective Alfie. Based on that PTSD episode I had a few weeks ago.

You looked petrified. That was the only way he could describe you and the look you'd unintentionally shot in his direction. Even from across the crowded bar he could tell that you were trembling. That you'd done your best to be stubborn and brave in the face of the cunt who'd just gotten a little nasty with you at the bar because you'd rejected his advances, but that now the moment of conflict had passed you were frozen to the spot, scared that any sudden movement would see you spiral and burst into tears.

He hadn't ever really seen you like this before. You were always the suffer in silence, the indignant, stubborn and self defensive type. But he recognised the look in your eyes from the faces of other women he'd known. That teetering on the edge of tears look. The thin line of your lips pressed together, tight and unsmiling. The stubborn stare, the determination not to cry giving your upset and terror away. A real tragedy because you were doing so well to stand your ground and had you not inadvertently shot him that "help me" look just then you'd have had everyone in the room fooled.

But you couldn't fool him and he knew exactly what you needed in that moment when the dread was squeezing your chest too tightly. When your legs and hands were shaking. When you were struggling to breath steady. You needed him, your Alfie to come sweeping in. To steal you away from that overcrowded, shit hole he didn't even understand why you'd come to anyway. Pretty little sweetheart such as yourself, trying to stand her ground in the arse end of London Town.

He'd made his mind up about cutting in before he saw one of those lary fuckers raise his hand to you, before he heard the vile thing he said to you too. But when the half cut man staggered forward into you and spat his scorned vitriol in your face Alfie couldn't stop himself.

"Alright then..." he announced his presence with his hands on your shoulders, the warmth of his body behind yours sending a little quiver of relief through you. The sound of his voice giving you the strength to remain standing tall in the face of the cunt who stood leering at you across the table. "Alright then my little cherub you gonna introduce me to your new friends? They don't look very friendly mind you, nah... Specially not this cunt... Nah ziskeit, this cunt in particular looks like a right miserable... Well..." he flexed his tone, taking one hand from your shoulder to caress your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

"Well... He looks like a cunt don't he..."

The cool metal of his rings soothed the blush burning your skin and when his fingers lingered near your mouth you understood exactly what he was doing.

Saving you.

Promising to take you home and take care of you just as soon as he'd scared these poor bastards out of town.

"Now then," started Alfie, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two men who had stood so proudly only moments before but who were already cowering away under Alfie's cruel glare. They'd certainly sobered up in the seconds it had taken him to cut between you. Pick them out. Get their measure. "Now then boys... Got a little favour to ask you haven't I eh my sweets.. got a teensy tiny little favour to ask you right?" he said stroking his hand down your arm, his tender little acts uncanny when compared to the tone in which he spoke.

His fingers found yours and entwined with them for a moment, locking and then unlocking, dancing lightly over your palm as he carried on drawing out his threats.

"Y'see boys," he said, "I'm gettin on a bit now me and well my hearin' just ain't what it used to be yeah... And I miss things sometimes right...things I'd quite like to hear... And just now yeah, when you were talking to my lovely, frankly 'too pure to share the same fuckin breathin space as you' girl yeah, well I was all the way over there right..." He said eyes going wide as he gestured with his hand to the other side of the room, walking his fingers through the air just before you so that neither you nor the men in question could take their eyes of his menacing hand. "See it's quite far ain't it that... Quite far away wouldn't you agree?"

You watched the two men nodding, saw how they tried to hide their shaking. Saw how they tried to inch away. They must have known they couldn't really run. Must have known they were trapped and at Alfies mercy.

So now they knew exactly how they'd made you feel. As Alfie opened his long coat and subtly wrapped it around your shoulder, letting you press yourself against his chest, letting you hide behind the thick black material and quiver into his side, you couldn't help but smile at that; the knowledge that those two men were feeling small. Just as small as they had made you feel only moments before.

"So yeah, this favour what I want you two boys to do for me, Alfie Solomons the king of Camden fuckin Town, therefore by extension the king of this here fuckin shithole of a public house... Yeah... What I want right... Is for you to repeat exactly what you just said to my girl yeah? Cause I was pretty far away right and I'm not entirely sure I heard you right yeah.. and before you say anything yeah..." He held his finger to his lips to shush them, his eyes wide and theatrical, that eccentricity leaving the two men with unsteady knees, "before you say another word right I want you to think very fuckin carefully about what you're gonna say alright... Cause the thing is yeah, what I reckon is that you'd better fuckin hope I didn't hear you right.. cause if I did yeah, if you did in fact say the terrible, frankly horrifying unrepeatable things I thought I heard you say just now yeah... I'm gonna take your fuckin billiards yeah, and I'm gonna make you swallow em one by fuckin one until your ugly cuntin face caves in..."

You watched their faces pale, watched the blue tinge of fear taint their skin as they froze, mouths opening and closing, panic setting in. But Alfie didn't do anything. Didn't carry out a single one of his threats because with you wrapped up within the confines of his coat he could feel your little body trembling against his and he knew he needed to take you home. Needed to get you somewhere quiet where it could be just the two of you. Where he could sit you in his lap and take care of you the way you needed him in that moment with your big sad eyes looking up at him all watery and scared.

"Nah," he sighed, his sudden softness uncanny when matched with the glare he'd fixed on those men. The way his hand lingered in the air between him and them, accusatory finger still extended towards them as he changed his mind. Lowered his voice and grew tender instead, focussing on you.

"Nah," he shook his head, pulled his coat tighter around you and squeezed you to his chest with one arm holding you to his warm body. The other still aimed at his new enemies. "Reckon I'll make em wait eh? Give em a little while to ruminate on all their sins before they see their comeuppance yeah? What do you think eh my little ziskeit? You reckon we should make em wait it out?" He asked looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing a tear which had slipped from your lashes despite your best efforts not to cry.

"Yeah," you tried to say, though your voice never made it beyond your lips he still knew what you'd meant to say to him.

"Alright then," he grinned snapping his fingers towards the bar, pointing out the two cunts he couldn't wait to get his hands on in the morning, "Alright mate... You see these two miserable cunts there yeah... See em? Can't miss em really ugliest fucks for a country mile... I mean look at em, cunts should be livin in the dungeons at the opera Garnier, phantom of the operas a prettier sight than them two... It's like the fuckin elephant man gôr disentry right.. and shat himself... Fuckin disentry mate."

"Uh... Yes Mr Solomon's..." The poor lad behind the bar stood watching Alfie with a timid, uncertainty in his eyes, wringing his towel between his hands. Worrying, you imagined, about what was about to be asked of him.

"Right well y'see these poor bastards right... And I say "poor" but don't you go feeling sorry for them now alright, don't you feel sorry for em cause theyve fuckin earned their right to be "poor" haven't they..." Alfie let his voice wander up an octave as he spoke, that familiar meandering madness leaving the whole room in silence as they watched the scene unfold.

You hidden away in the folds of Alfie's long black coat, him with one arm wrapped around his girl, the other gesticulating between the two men who stood still trying to beg forgiveness. Their voices trembling and meek, going ignored by everyone else in favour of Alfie's theatrics. The poor lad behind the bar wringing his towel in his hands, doing his best to follow Alfie's request.

"Where was I? Oh right yeah... You ain't got a naughty step in here have you?"

"A naughty step?" The boy stuttered looking between Alfie and another bar man, begging his friend to help him.

"Yeah, y'know... somewhere they can sit nice and quiet yeah, have a good long think about what they've done?"

"Uh.." the lad hesitated, his frightened eyes meeting yours for a moment, fleeing almost the second he'd seen the whites of your eyes, not wanting to look at you when it was clear Alfie was doing his best to keep you protected and hidden away. He didn't want to find himself on the receiving end of that infamous, sociopathic temper.

"Here," Alfie clicked his fingers, pointed to a stool by the back door which was being used to prop it open, "what about this one yeah? Nice and low to the ground an all... Right where you belong.." he narrowed his eyes at the men quivering before him, flashed them a malicious grin, "fuckin sit down both of you yeah... Nah there's not much room so you'll have to share yeah... Both of you right, I want both of you to fuckin sit yourselves down there right, nice and quiet yeah... You fuckin sit there and you don't move a muscle till I come back for you yeah?" He asked waiting for a response, chuckling when the two men backed away nodding frantically as they did exactly as they were told.

You felt Alfie's chest vibrate with his low chuckle and tried to smile yourself. It was hard however because you hadn't yet managed to shake the panic that those men had sparked in you. You hadn't been able to calm down. All this time you'd been using every fibre of strength you had in you to hold it together until you were safe and sound and out of sight but you were beginning to run out of energy. Any minute now you were sure you were going to break.

"Alfie," you mouthed, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. To make him look down at you so that he'd see the paleness in your frightened face and understand. You needed him to take you home.

"Right," he nodded, his eyes locked with yours, trying to comfort you without words or affections so as not to give your vulnerability away. "Right Ollie my boy... where are ya treacle... Ollie my lad keep an eye on these two right... If they so much as blink yeah... If they so much as blink you have my explicit permission to perform whichever act of exquisite violence you so wish..."

And with that Alfie had swept you away, the crowd parting for the pair of you as you left.

The air outside was cold and a fine rain dusted over you both as you walked but you didn't feel the cold because Alfie kept you tucked up inside his coat with him, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

He knew that that was what you needed above everything else just then. Some kind of physical connection, something to hold onto. Someone to feel close to.

And there was no one who could make you feel as loved or as safe as him.

You stopped beneath a streetlight and he turned you around in his arms, squeezed you tight to his chest all wrapped up in his embrace, your face buried in his shirt, breathing in his soft rum and woodland scent. You nuzzled into him and he stroked his fingers through your hair, cradling your head to him as he bowed his toward you and kissed you tenderly. Let his lips linger in your hair as he listened to your shivered breaths.

"Alright littlen," he sighed softly, "s'alright my little ziskeit, you're with me now yeah, just you an me and your Alfs gonna take care of you now right, Papas gonna get you home right, gonna make you feel all better yeah?"

You smiled into his shirt, holding onto him a little tighter, arms wrapped around his waist, his still holding you snug and tight so that you knew he meant every word he'd just said.

For a minute he let you stay there, holding onto him, face buried in his shirt, your frame tucked away inside his big coat, the heavy wool going some way to making you feel safe too. He stroked your hair down your back and rocked you from side to side, his eyes narrowed on the quiet street as he surveyed the shadows. He wouldn't relax until he'd gotten you home but he didn't want to make you worry so he did his best to relax his body, did his best to put the anger he felt to one side. To box it away until the morning when he planned to return to that pub and exact his revenge.

For now however the rain was beginning to soak into his coat and your dress and your sad expression was beginning to pinch with cold.

"Alright my girl," he said stroking his thumb over your cheek, letting it rest on your lips as he spoke, "alright poppet time to go home..."

🐻💌🐻

Until you'd met Alfie you'd done a lot of fending for yourself. Faced a lot of things alone. You weren't necessarily built for it, hadn't particularly excelled at it, but for the most part you'd survived well enough on your own. You'd been doing it so long that even after the older man had made it his new life's passion to take you under his wing and dote on your every need, you never quite got used to having someone else worry about you or take care of you.

That's why you'd been so determined not to cry in front of anyone else. That's why when Alfie got you home and closed the front door behind you both, giving you strict instructions to go and get warm by the fire you ignored him. Took yourself straight up to the bedroom and began to undress.

To you the evening was a write off, a night of total humiliation and weakness that you would rather forget. You just wanted to climb into bed, curl up foetal position small and snug, and hopefully fall asleep before you started crying on Alfie.

He'd seen you cry before, naturally, but that wasn't the point. The less the better as far as you were concerned. You weren't a little girl, you weren't weak, you were stronger than most women and you were determined to show Alfie that. Because of everyone Alfie was the one who appeared to have the hardest time believing that you could look after yourself.

You didn't even notice his shadow in the doorway or the sound of his footsteps as he came to a halt in the frame, his gaze fixed on you. You were too busy trying to take your shoes off and slip out of your skirts to realise he was watching you. Wondering why you weren't doing as he'd told you to.

"Now then poppet..." he said softly, his gaze warm but stern as he watched and waited for you to turn around. When you looked up at him you felt a nervous flutter in your tummy, a shiver running through you as your glossy eyes shone with tears and blinked up at him. If he kept looking at you like that, with all the gentleness of a father, you were going to break down. You were already so close to falling apart and the tender way his attentions were fixed on you then was leaving you struggling.

But Alfie didn't want you to struggle. He didn't want you to hold back.

"Ziskeit," he said with a gentle tsk tsk, "come 'ere girl," he said, a gentle warning tone to his low voice as he held your gaze and waited for you to do as you were told.

You hesitated, wanting to shake your head and argue with him, wanting to tell him to leave you alone... But you didn't argue back with your Alfie and you knew that if you told him to leave you now he wouldn't listen. Still, you tried.

"I'm fine Alf don't look at me like that... I'm alright really I just wanna go to bed..."

But as you argued your voice weakened because he held your gaze, looked at you with knowing eyes and remained stable and stubborn, waiting for you in the doorway.

"Now don't start with all that ziskeit, cause me an you both know it ain't true and you ain't the kind of girl who tells lies... Come on now darlin, come give your old man a cuddle yeah? You wouldn't deprive your devoted old Alfie of that would you ziskeit?" He asked offering you a tender, teasing little smirk. One which despite its humour you knew you couldn't deny.

So when he opened his arms out for you to fall into you gave in, slipped from the edge of the bed into his warm embrace, nuzzling into his shoulder as he closed his arms tight around your frame.

"There we go, good girl, good girl..." He cooed softly, his husky voice gentle and tickling your ear as he pressed a kiss to your cheek bone and whispered to you. Gentle things which left tears prickling in your eyes. "There we go my little ziskeit, back where you belong yeah? Back where you belong in your Alfie's arms..." he said every tender sentence like a sigh, his words caressing you so that you finally felt safe enough to let go of all that fear, all that hurt which had been building and rotting away inside you.

The first few tears escaping terrified you. You didn't want to let them fall but you couldn't control them. You tried to snatch at your cheek with your hand to wipe them away, you tried to blink and stare at the ceiling until your eyes dried out and stung but it was already too late and besides, Alfie was determined that you were going to cry. You needed to cry, even if you didn't seem to realise that yet he knew it.

"S'alright my little ziskeit, go on poppet have a big old cry yeah, never mind tryin to be brave ziskeit, papa don't want you to be brave now alright..." He murmured stroking your cheek with his thumb and pressing a lingering kiss to your forhead.

He closed his eyes as he bowed his head to yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He could feel you shaking as you tried to control your sobbing, he could tell you were still trying to hold back.

"Don't do that my little love," he warned tenderly stroking your hair, cradling your head in the palm of his hair, "remember who knows best yeah ziskeit, me yeah, your Alfie... An I'm tellin you not to be brave yeah... World's had enough of brave now alright, needs a little gentleness yeah, a little feeling right... Now I've got you ain't I, it's just you an me, you an your Alfie... You don't have to be brave for me little ziskeit, you don't have to be brave for me..."

And as he spoke you felt it all finally catching up to you, all the adrenaline of the evening hitting you like a freight train. Leaving you shaking and distraught, barely able to hold yourself up, your legs trembling as you shook and collapsed against Alfie's chest, your knees buckling so that he had to catch you and scoop you up into a steadier hold.

"Oh my little ziskeit," he sighed, his heart aching for you and all the sorrow and fear he could hear in your sobbing. You'd broken down just like a little girl, lost control of your emotions completely and though he knew it was good for you to get it all out, he wished you didn't have to. Wished he could snap his fingers and make all that pain go away.

He was supposed to be your great protector and yet he hadn't been able to protect you from all this.

He let out a sigh and let his own knees give in sinking slowly to the floor with you in his arms, leaning against the wall and relaxing his legs out in front of him.

"There there my darlin, there there my little ziskeit, 'salright poppet I've got you yeah, you're safe with me little ziskeit, ain't gonna let a soul hurt you ever again..." he murmured to you kissing your temple and bundling you up into his arms so that he could cradle you in his lap.

He felt your body shaking with convulsive sorrow and rested one hand in your hair. He knew that all there was to do was wait it out, wait there with you stroking your hair whilst you cried yourself into exhaustion.

"Why are people always so fuckin cruel Alfie, why are men so fucking cruel..." You sobbed, your voice anguished and shrill and breaking his heart as he stroked his fingers across your cheek and shushed you gently.

"I know ziskeit," he said swallowing a lump in his throat, feeling that familiar cold determination grio him, his mind already beginning to turn to plans of revenge. The things he was going to do to make those evil bastards regret causing you this pain. "This time tomorrow though my darlin, this time tomorrow the world will be down two fuckin cruel men though yeah, promise you that my poppet..." he said pushing a lock of hair from your face, looking down at your tear stained cheeks with such tenderness as you tried to speak again, working yourself up into even more of a state.

"But... But even if you kill them there'll still be... M...more.." you sobbed trying to swat his hand away when he cupped your cheek in his palm and pushed his thumb to your lips gently.

"Hush now ziskeit, shh," he hummed pushing his thumb between your lips, ignoring your hand on his wrist which tried to argue back. He waited patiently until he felt your mouth close around his thumb, until he felt your tongue brush over him and you began to suck. "There we are poppet," he said with a soft smile, watching your eyes flutter shut, your lashes heavy and dewy with tears. "That's better ziskeit, settle down yeah, don't you worry about anymore of them cruel bastards now, you don't need to worry about any of them no more, I'm here now ziskeit and I ain't gonna let no one touch you no more, not a soul... Only hands you're ever gonna feel on you again yeah, the only fuckin hands ever gonna touch this angelic little face right, are these two hands right here... You're mine my little ziskeit, all mine yeah... An am gonna look after you right... Gonna start by puttin them two sorry cunts in the ground..."

You opened your eyes then, lying with your head in his lap, looking up at him with teary doe eyes. He looked down at you, let you drag your lips over and away from his thumb for long enough to ask one more question.

"Promise?"

Your voice was but a sweet little whisper. Your lips hovering by the tip of this thumb and he cupped your cheek in his palm and let you nuzzle into the heart of his hand.

"Promise."

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[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

'Hey, wait up Mammon!' Asmodeus flagged the second-born down, huffing pitifully at having to do so much as jog to catch up with him. 'Have you seen MC? I'm pretty sure they said they'd be in the library right now with Belphie to make sure he didn't fall asleep.'

'Nah. Walked to RAD with 'em this morning 'n' lost 'em in Satan's class.' Mammon drawled casually. 'Human was moody as hell today, said they slept like shit.'

'Oh, poor dear. Maybe I should-'

Asmodeus stopped mid sentence and Mammon's smooth gait stuttered. Their pacts flared, flooded with seething, cold ire.

The two demons shared a look. 'Did you?' Asked Asmo.

Mammon nodded once, face set in a firm line, deadly serious. 'Sure did.'

That ire came with a tether, pulling them both toward the courtyard, where demons are slowly gathering, looking at the open doors as raised voices flooded through.

The gathering crowd parted for the avatars of Lust and Greed and they reached the door just as a very familiar voices yelled out in a very unfamiliar tone.

'You will not speak to me like that!'

MC's icy growl was a far cry from the human they're familiar with, the human who never raises their voice, who keeps a cool head and argues with logic and calm.

'I am not here for you to marvel at, not here for your fucking entertainment!' MC seethed, and they round to their human on the face of another demon, both of them with hackles raised and eyes burning.

Lucifer's pact mask bobbed on their throat with every breath, and they could swear they saw the glow of the other pacts beneath MC's uniform.

'Do you not realise how easy you are to replace?!' Seethed the demon. 'Just another human in the mess.'

'At least I'm not afraid of my next breath.' MC snapped. 'Keep your thoughts to yourself, nobody asked you your fucking opinion!'

'Why you-!'

'Oh piss off already. I'm done with you.' MC snapped, spinning on their heel and shoving through the gathered crowd, they didn't notice Asmo or Mammon watching, let alone Beel and Lucifer who'd overheard the last few words.

Beel was quick at their heels, steps eating ground to follow the tug of the pact and leave his brothers to absolutely demolish the demon in his wake. Perhaps literally.

He caught up with MC just as they left RAD, clearly heading home as the massive demon fell into stride beside them. 'Are you alright?'

'I'm fine.' The human puffed, voice cold and distant, eyes pinned straight ahead. 'Sorry. I shouldn't have risen to the argument, it's just an off day.'

'No need to be sorry.' Beel said softly, hoping to ease the tension in their shoulders. 'You're allowed to have feelings, and you're allowed to get mad. I know that demon rubs you the wrong way.'

MC sighed, forcing themselves to relax. 'Still...I don't like feeling this angry.'

'I get it. Do you want to go somewhere? Eat, drink? I'll get Belphie if you want a nap buddy.'

MC paused mid-step, looking at Beel, and then over his shoulder. Of course they wouldn't judge, none of them would ever begrudge MC genuine anger.

They felt seven hearts on the end of the threads binding them to their demons, flooded with concern, pride, righteous anger...

MC smiled, heaving a deep breath as they carried on walking, venting to Beel, who listened happily as they let that anger fade from their system and leave them in peace once more.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not telling a close friend about a concert?

(🥀emoji to find this)

I (16F) have multiple different friend groups at my school, and of these groups, the two girls I’m closest with are “Rose “(18F) and “Gale”(16F). As long as they've known each other, Rose and Gale have never really gotten along due to their personalities clashing. (Gale thinks Rose is bitchy and Rose thinks Gale is overbearing. There’s other, more minor stuff, but that’s the general summary.) They don’t talk or hang out unless I ask both of them to be at an event with me. It’s also important to note that Gale is in my grade(HS junior), but Rose is a senior, and this is the last year that I will be going to school with her since she has college next year.

Last summer, the three of us went to a concert together for an artist we all love, and while it was really fun overall, there was this constant underlying tension between the two of them. At the end, they nearly got into a stupid fight (I was waiting in a merch line alone and don't know the details), but the majority of the time they were civil. They both told me privately afterwards that while they had a really fun time, they wished the other person hadn’t been there. I understand that they’re both entitled to their own feelings about the other, and while I wish they got along better, I know there isn’t really anything I can do to get them to get along, so I’ve tried to limit the occurrences where the three of us might all be at the same event.

It just so happens that the artist we went to see is doing another tour next summer, and Rose and I were hanging out at school when the announcement dropped. We immediately went to check out where the nearest venue the artist was playing at was, and it’s a stadium tour. This is important because the last time we saw this artist, they were performing at an outdoor general admissions space, so tickets were significantly cheaper. The stadium tour cost roughly double the amount we paid last time for our general admission tickets ($62.50 each for the first concert and ~$130 each for this one), and it was much harder to get tickets in a good section that were next to each other without going broke. We also had to keep prices in mind because I was going to be buying the tickets for us with my parents' credit card, and Rose, who only carries cash and doesn't have credit card access, would be paying me back in cash. My parents warned me ahead of time that they'd be annoyed if we spent too much on the tickets, so we had to make sure we didn't overspend.

Because of this, Rose and I made the decision that we would only get tickets for ourselves and not tell Gale, with our decision being motivated half by the cost and half by the fact that Rose does not want to go with Gale. The concert is now almost entirely sold out, and resale prices will cost you a minimum of 300 bucks for one ticket in our seat section. We haven’t told anyone we know about this except for the other three people in our friend group and two seniors we are casual friends with who got tickets to the same concert. Gale wasn’t at school that day, so she didn’t hear any of the conversations Rose and I had about the concert at school. Since this concert is over the summer, it’s also probably going to be one of the last major activities Rose and I will be able to do together before she goes off to college next year.

I might be the asshole in this situation because I know Gale would have LOVED to come to the concert and has expressed wanting to see that artist again in the past, but I intentionally didn’t tell her about it because of the money and her negative relationship with Rose. AITA for not telling Gale?

What are these acronyms?

[unhonest-iago]

Goth Bunny

Male reader

'You kept complaining about there being no Easter baskets that fit your aesthetic so we're making some.' y/n explained to Corpse as they walked into his apartment, arms full of shopping bags. 'At least let me help carry it in.' He grabbed half of the load, ignoring their protests that it wasn't that heavy. 'You know I don't celebrate Easter, like ever, right?' Sitting at the table as y/n unloaded all the bags' goodies. 'I know but you said you were bored and I figured between streaming and making music, this could be fun little DIY project.' Corpse sighed, not needing another project on his plate. Voicing this, y/n replied, 'But it'll take a day, hell, few hours at most. I'll buy food.'

'Fine, as long as it doesn't permanently stain anything.' Glaring at them while also reminding them of the last time they'd used Corpse's bathroom to dye their hair. 'Already thought of that, bought containers!' Holding up the items in question. 'Fine, so how are we making these baskets exactly?' Looking at the spread of items; containers large enough to hold the white bunny themed baskets, black fabric dye, plastic gloves, pliers, scissors, rings, and studs. 'Well, first we have to dye them.' Corpse's movements lethargic as he got up to boil some water. The two not needing to reference the box's directions. Pushing the baskets down into the black liquid.

Y/n ran to open the door, thanking the delivery driver for bringing their food. Placing it on the table, the two ate while they waited for the basket to dry in the container's after having dumped the water once it ran clear. 'Give me your phone.' Corpse connected it to the bluetooth speaker he had in the kitchen, randomly choosing one of y/n's playlists. Watching them bop around as he pierced the bunny ears attached to the basket with rings. Opening and closing the rings with the pliers. A line of studs along the seams, Corpse attempted to make it look like a fleur de lis shaped tramp stamp. 'You want any?'

'Nah, that looks sick though.'

'Only took 3 hours,' exaggerating the time.

'Shut up, you had fun.' Y/n had taken a few photos of Corpse when he wasn't looking, deleting the ones he didn't like. Putting the pictures that got Corpse's stamp of approval into a hidden album.

[st-danger]

If you're still doing the character breakdown AETHER please

MULTIPLE AETHER REQUESTS, LFG

How I feel about this character

Aether, my beloved. Holy shit. I just. He's practically perfect in every way, and I'm all twitterpated. I think he's one of the most committed to the ministry and the mission, but that he's the most "human" out of all of them in regards to the mannerisms and interactions. I see him as the most interested in various aspects of life on earth, and would be the first one to drag someone onto a rollercoaster for the first time (spoiler alert, Dew despises them), or to go antiquing because human trinkets are just charming and interesting. I think the attention and interest he has in mortals outside of working with the ministry was a point of contention with Alpha, Omega, and Ifrit, who all ultimately view themselves as greater than a person.

Intensely affectionate, curious, and with a bigger desire to connect with everything Above Ground has to offer. Probably just as charmed by pop rocks as he is old movies.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Dew, first and foremost. Listen, I know I write so much goddamned Swiss/Dew, but Aether/Dew was my first love and some of the first fics I read before coming back to Tumblr and joining the fandom. I'm an absolute sucker for their dynamic, and all the little "fights" on stage are hilarious, because by the end of the ritual? Bro just look at my profile pictures. Holding Dew, with Dew holding back just as tight. Obviously we're all in agreement that everyone is in love and polyamorous, let's be real. But the two of them have Something Special, show the greatest range in their interactions on stage, and will always be a personal favourite.

I'm a big believer in Aether/Copia/Dew.

Strong arguments to be made for Aether getting wrapped around Swiss and Rain's fingers as well.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Mountain. I think they both have some goofy humour that would see them playing off each other better than playing with each other, not that it doesn't or hasn't happened. I think they'd do a good job grounding each other.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Okay, uh. Buckle up.

There's a lot of writing the ghouls as very specific two dimensional characterizations, and I wish with all my heart that people would consider him as more than just "dad" (like writing Cumulus as only "mom"). He's wildly affectionate and carries himself as the most outwardly whimsical and friendly ghoul on stage, and he's one of the oldest remaining summons. He's had a lot of experience in the ministry, and a lot of time to become a little cynical or jaded about the entire thing. Does he enjoy playing the caretaking, kind role? Of course, it's a very obvious thing, the love he has for the others. But his tenure and experience, to me, leads me to think that it's not all sunshine all the time. I think he is more likely than Dew to be possessive, demanding, and needy between the sheets, and is more of a power bottom than a top. I think he is often rougher and crueler to Dew than the reverse.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I cannot express the depths of my love for Aeon, but Aether was a delight to have in the line up. I would love an "official, in universe" explanation of where he went, but in lieu of that, I choose to believe it was a simple retirement after so many years of being involved in touring. Would he return to the Pit? Nah. He's too curious and interested in the world around him. Someday, but not today. There's more rollercoasters to ride on, more books to read, more movies to watch.

More opportunities to sneak out into town with Dew and spend an afternoon walking around.

[saltyskeletonkidpasta]

Really hate how they had to have Danielle's irl best friends kid to play marina's kid in carina's head. I HATE blurred lines between character and actor they just have to stay separate. It also just made literally no sense to have her in. There is a massive age gap between her and the other kids I mean Liam looked at least 15 which would mean marina would be in their 50's yet somehow they have a 2 yr old that presumably maya carried? And Maya had never expressed any desire whatsoever abt wanting to carry until 7x09 and even then she said she MIGHT be willing IF carina couldn't carry and it was sweet and shows how much she loves her but of all the things maya imagined while at deaths door it was her giving birth? Nah.

Her imagining carina giving birth is fine but her? No. It could've been signing Liam's adoption papers with Carina or even getting her captaincy back.

Just Liam and the other kid carina is pregnant with would've been perfectly fine and made the most sense anyway. I know carina briefly said in 6x18 she'd always wanted 3 but maya didnt want that and said it would be too much which is fair and carina didnt have a problem with maya not wanting that and it seemed they settled for 2. Instead of having carina imagine ANOTHER kid I wish they'd given her something to do with her career like having her own practice. There is much more to her character than just wanting kids and I'll forever be bitter by how dirty they did her character.

To me it just seems like Danielle's friend wanted his claim to fame he's always blasting that poor kid all over social media even giving her her own insta? Like she's 2?! Not my business but I'd value her privacy much more if I was her parent but maybe it's an LA thing idk?

[flowers-for-the-grave]

Gem & The Scotts' First Concert

"You think this'll work?" Impulse asked, nervously peeking around the curtain.

Gem smiled. "I'm sure it's gonna be great."

Scott tapped his fingers repetitively against his arm. He glanced at the guitar laid out for him - cyan, with the green, yellow and red heart symbols running down the frets. This was a gamble; how'd they even know this would work out alright?

"This better not be someone's task," he muttered. Picking up his guitar by the strap and pulling it on, he strummed a few test chords for the umpteenth time that evening.

Impulse's hand twitched at his side, the other releasing its grip on the curtain. He took a deep breath and took a seat at the drum kit, picking up the drumsticks and tapping them against each other as quietly as possible.

Gem stood in that positive, easy-going way of hers, her hand gently gripping the microphone. Her hair cascaded down her back in tumbling ginger waves.

Their make-up had been a minor concern. Back-stage wasn't exactly the coldest, being uncomfortably hot at its best. For the past half-hour or so the trio had been vigorously panicking over whether it would stay or not.

They could only hope.

"And now, introducing..." there was a pause in the voice - Grian's, if he was correct - and the trio nodded at each other. "Gem and the Scotts!"

The curtain was yanked back.

The crowd of fellow Life members applauded and cheered. Gem plastered on that blindingly uplifting smile of hers that Scott could only wish he had.

Impulse tapped the drumsticks together over his head, counting up to four with a loud enthusiasm.

Scott strummed the first few chords. They were the ones he'd worried about most, as messing those ones up threw the whole song off its rhythm.

Gem began to sing. He went over the chords in his head, relying on a dangerous mix of muscle memory and mental effort. Her voice was powerful, stronger than the quaking earth and the rolling waves. She carried herself with an air of confidence, as if she belonged on that stage.

She began stamping her foot; their audience copied the motion. Scott joined in as well.

He leaned forwards into the mic in front of him and harmonised with her like they'd practised. Impulse joined in a few lines after. They sang the chorus in unison, their voices mixing together in the best possible way.

The crowd, by that point, had begun to sing along, having learnt the chorus and deeming their knowledge good enough to join in.

Hearing so many people gleefully singing along almost made him stop playing in shock. He hesitated, not long enough to disrupt the song, but enough for his forehead to start sweating in panic.

Slowly, Gem drew the song to a close.

He dared to look at Impulse, and found him smiling like a fool. Scott must have been as well, if he were being honest.

---

The rest of the evening continued mostly in the same way, only that they became more relaxed as time went on.

By the end, though, they were exhausted.

"I need to nap for three years," Scott said.

"Same." Impulse ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sweating like hell. Why's it so goddamn hot out there?"

Gem chuckled. "It's the lights."

"Damn lights." Impulse said, half-laughing at the end of his sentence.

"Wanna head home? It's pretty late." Scott checked the clock on the wall. Eleven-fifteen.

As soon as he said that, Impulse yawned, stretching his arms behind his head and arching his back. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Besides, we can play again in the morning, just us. No one else is gonna be here."

"Is that just an excuse to go home earlier?" Gem asked, a playful grin on her face.

"Would you blame if it was?"

She shook her head. "Nah, I see where you're coming from." Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Gem beckoned for them to do the same.

Scott put his guitar in its case, closed it then pulled the strap over his shoulder and held onto it with a white-knuckle grip.

Impulse just stood up, grabbing a water bottle and chugging it like he'd been wandering through a desert for days.

"Last one home does the dishes!" Impulse yelled, already bolting for the door.

"Hey!" Gem and Scott yelled simultaneously. Then, with a shared look between them, ran forwards. They shoved each other as they got to the door, squeezed through and sprinted after Impulse.

[kindred-sims]

Henry had been walking home from school the day he met her again.

Carrie had gone to visit with Genie for a while, asking that he let their parents know where she was as soon as he got back. He'd agreed, although he hadn't been in much of a hurry to return. Papa had been giving him so many chores lately, which really hadn't been leaving him with much reading time, and Mama had her hands full with Louisa and the new baby to even spare him a second glance.

That wasn't to say Henry was at all annoyed with his parents. On the contrary, he still loved them very much. But sometimes even ten year old boys needed their own space, and he just couldn't find that at home these days.

For that, Henry decided he would take his time, and chose the long route back to his family's farm, relishing in the scenery and reciting some of his favorite lines from his poetry book as he went.

"Stop it, please! Go away!"

Glancing ahead, Henry was startled to find none other than Dennis Gale in all his bullying glory, almost wanting to tuck tail and run the other way.

Until he spotted her. Millicent. That girl from town, the one with the pretty hat and long blonde hair.

And Dennis seemed to be picking on her!

Any fear he'd felt was replaced by a simmering anger, and before he could talk himself out of it, he'd ran up to the two of them, as Dennis laughed meanly, nearly shoving the poor girl into the dirt.

"Dennis, leave her alone!" he'd cried, fists balled up as tight as they could go. Dennis spared Henry a passive glance, snorting loudly.

"Or what? What exactly do you plan on doing?" he teased. "You're still half my size, Four Eyes, I could knock you down right now if wanted to."

"Yeah? So could my sister," Henry reminded him. "If it's a fight you're looking for, I can always just go find her, tell her what you said."

"Heh, you really think I'm still scared of her? That fight was a long time ago--"

"How come you still avoid her at recess then?"

Dennis flushed deeply, arms crossing.

"Forget it, you ain't worth it. Neither of you," he huffed. "I've gotta get home anyway."

With that, he turned and stomped off, both children watching as he went. Soon as he was out of sight, the girl -- Millicent, turned to Henry, amazement all over her face.

"My goodness, that was so brave of you!" she gasped. "Didn't he frighten you at all?"

"Aw, nah. Not really..." Henry felt his face heat up, just as it had that first time. "I mean, Dennis is a jerk, nobody should have to deal with him by themselves. It wouldn't have been fair to just leave you with him."

"That's so kind of you, truly. How can I ever thank you?"

"Oh...you don't have to--"

"Oh but I must! Mother always says that it is the proper thing to do, after all," she insisted. "I know! Why don't you walk back home with me? We can have tea and cookies, if you'd like!"

Tea and cookies certainly sounded tempting to Henry, and he was almost ready to accept until he remembered his folks were expecting him home soon, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause them any concern.

Even if he wasn't in a hurry to get back to his chores...

So much as it pained him, he politely refused Millicent's offer, but since it was on the way, asked if he could still walk her home.

"Just in case Dennis shows back up, you never know," he'd said.

Millicent happily accepted.

Since her house was just up the hill, it wasn't that long of a walk, but just long enough for formal introductions to be made. A short ways into their conversation, Millicent soon recalled their brief meeting in town a while back, much to Henry's surprise.

He hadn't thought she'd have remembered.

When they'd arrived at the house, Henry was immediately taken aback by its grandeur, staring up at it in awe for about a minute before running to catch up with Millicent. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything so big and lavish before, least not up close! The most he'd seen of it were glances, when he'd walk to and from school with Carrie. They'd always used to wonder if anyone lived there, and Carrie had surmised that it was probably haunted.

Judging by the fact that Millicent apparently lived here, that didn't seem to be the case at all.

"Well, here we are," Millicent announced, stopping at the front door. "It was very nice meeting you again, Henry, and properly this time!"

"Likewise! You're good company, Millicent."

"As are you! I'm only sorry you have to go so soon, are you sure you can't stay long enough just for a cookie?"

"Sorry, I don't think my Mama would appreciate me spoiling my dinner," Henry laughed. "But...maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe...I could always stop by after school sometime, you know, for the tea and cookies. If that's still an offer..."

The smile Millie gave him in return was just as shy as his voice, and there was just the slightest hint of pink in her cheeks.

"It very much is, yes."

[iammistressofmyfate]

It's snowing in Boston so here's some Pynch fluff 🥰

Ronan looked out the kitchen window above the sink, drying his hands on a dishtowel. The light from the kitchen just barely illuminated the snow falling in large, wet flakes, the grass already dusted.

Wind buffeted the house, making the old wood of the tiny farmhouse creak and groan. Ronan couldn't help but smile, the whole thing making him feel cozy.

He hung up the dishtowel and turned off the lights in the kitchen, making his way to the living room. He walked around the couch, finding Adam sound asleep there.

He was on his back, head tilted to the side, one arm raised above his head, hand dangling over the arm of the couch, the other hand resting on his stomach. He was in one of Ronan's sweatshirts and a pair of well-worn joggers.

Ronan paused, just looking, feeling himself melt at the sight of his sleeping husband. He didn't want to disturb Adam, but he'd be far more comfortable in their bed than on the couch.

Ronan gently reached out to brush his fingers over Adam's mussed hair, the strands as soft as silk as they slid through his fingers. He walked past the couch, going to their wood burning stove, and making sure it had enough wood to keep the house warm.

Satisfied, he went back to the couch, sinking to his knees next to it.

"Adam," he whispered, leaning in close to press little kisses along the line of Adam's elegant cheekbone. "Lover." His breath ghosted gently over Adam's skin.

Adam made a soft noise and Ronan hummed fondly, leaning away a little to watch Adam wake up. His long lashes fluttered, face a little scrunched, before one pretty blue eye, and then other, opened.

"Ronan," he murmured, covering a yawn. "Time's it?"

"Bedtime," Ronan replied, reaching out to run his hand through Adam's hair. "Figured you'd be more comfortable in bed."

Adam sighed and nodded, eyes dipping closed sleepily, and Ronan couldn't help but to kiss his cheek, nuzzling him gently. Adam smiled, chuckling, his hand coming to rest at the back of Ronan's head, fingers stroking over his buzzcut.

"Want me to carry you?"

"Nah. I can walk."

Ronan chuckled, pressing one last kiss to Adam's forehead before standing up and stretching. "C'mon if you're coming," he said.

He went to the armchair that Chainsaw was nesting in while Adam got up from the couch, kissing the top of her feathered head. Adam was right behind him, also wishing Chainsaw goodnight, and followed Ronan up to bed.

"It's snowing," Adam murmured, pausing at the window at the top of the stairs, before following Ronan into their bedroom.

He disappeared into the bathroom and Ronan changed into pajamas. He ran warm, tending to sleep in just his underwear, maybe a t-shirt, but it was a bit chilly, so he slid into a pair of sweats.

"All yours," Adam said as he came out of the bathroom, smelling minty fresh.

Ronan took a leak, brushed his teeth, and turned out the light. Adam was curled up under the blankets, nothing more than a vague lump and Ronan slid in after him.

"Warm enough?" Ronan asked, turning off the light, and snuggling up to Adam. He tucked his head under Adam's chin, wrapping an arm around him.

"I am now," Adam replied, curling his arms around Ronan, pressing kisses to the top of his head.

They both sighed, legs tangled.

"Glad I'm working from home," Adam murmured, stroking his fingers over the back of Ronan's neck.

Adam was more able to come with him with his new remote work though. They were very rarely apart. It was...pretty ideal. Ronan wouldn't be working tomorrow with this weather, which he was pleased about.

"Hell yeah," Ronan murmured.

Adam traveled occasionally for work nowadays, but was usually just at home, working from the spare room they'd made their guest room/office. Of the two of them, Ronan traveled more, but they'd managed to nail down a permanent address so Ronan had a place he could always return to.

They'd have a bunch of shoveling to do thanks to the snow, but for now, they were cozy warm together, and they'd have the rest of the day (mostly) to themselves.

Ronan was looking forward to keeping Adam in bed with him a little longer in the morning, making sure he was toasty warm. He tilted his head up, closing his eyes as Adam nosed at him, and then kissed him.

"Goodnight, darlin'."

"Night."

Ronan felt Adam settle, listened to the sound of his breathing even out, his body going lax. Ronan closed his eyes, cuddling a little closer.

He listened to the sounds of the house, the wind outside, the snow on the windows, Adam's breathing. It was all very soothing, the perfect lullaby to fall asleep to.

And he did.

[fandoms-in-law]

Stories Chapter 3

chapter 1 chapter 2

Summary: Redecorating Steve's house gets off to a shaky start

/\/\

Waking doesn't come gently for Steve. It comes in a rush of confusion that has him torn between asking what happened the night before and searching for a weapon to defend them from whatever woke him.

It took a moment for him to realise Eddie and Robin were still there and remember the various emotional flips that he'd gone through before relaxing back into his pillows. "You better not be intending to drag me around furniture or home decorating shops today." He muttered, looking down at Robin curled up beside him, still sleeping.

"Nah, just a music store. See if there are any groups you want posters for and maybe a few film posters too." Eddie replied, muffled by his pillow before he rolled to the side to blearily look at Steve.

...

Steve panics after putting his first poster up, running between rooms in the house looking for parents who hadn't been there in months.

They'd just gotten back from shopping and he'd started to seem excited about having things he likes visible but the moment he and Eddie got the poster to stay on the wall everything stopped.

He'd glanced over his shoulder in concern, only to see Robin stop cheering for the small change then ran.

She was quick to call and follow after him, trying to ask what was wrong but getting no reply.

The office two doors away from his room was yanked open, door banging against the wall and getting Steve to flinch away looking from it, into the room, further down the hallway and to the stairs, waiting for something to happen or be said. At nothing else coming beyond Robin and Eddie, now catching him up, asking what was wrong, he ran again.

The only thing that prevented him skidding into his parents room was the rug lining the hallway, and that door was opened far more cautiously than the office. Steve leaning around it hesitantly.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, spinning around and leaning hard back into the wall.

"Hey, you're okay. It's just us here. Can you breathe for me Stevie?" Eddie's words sounded like they were coming through water.

His head is shaking without realising and as soon as Eddie pulls the hand on his shoulder back, his other reaching for Steve's hand, he's running again, stumbling down the stairs to stare at the empty living room.

That's where he folds down into a ball, hyperventilating and crying because he can't do that.

"You can." Robin's hand is tentative when it lands on his back. "You're allowed to put posters up; to do whatever you'd like. It's okay Steve. We're here."

"Can't. He'll - he'll be mad. I can't have posters. Don't deserve them up." Steve sobbed into his arms, shaking his head but doing nothing to reject the touch.

Robin leant down now, hugging him as much as she could while he was curled up like he was. "You can, remember. He can do nothing to argue when you own the house. It's okay Steve. You're okay." she carried on trying to coax him calm.

"Hell if he says anything I'll show him just why people believed I could be a murderer." Eddie called, keeping his distance now, but smiling when he got a watery chuckle.

"Munson's on defence and you know nobody is getting past that." Robin agreed with a shaky grin too. "Do you want to leave doing anything else for a while? Get used to having a poster of your choosing up?"

Steve didn't reply, still tightly curled and trying to remember how to breathe but Eddie shook his head at her.

"Let's talk about that later. For now I'm gonna order pizza for lunch." He decided. "Give us all some time to calm down from Steve's panic."

She nodded after another worried look down at Steve's back. "It can wait." she agreed, "Want to do a breathing exercise with me, Steve?"

It feels like seconds later to Steve that Eddie is back, kneeling beside him as well now. He knows it wasn't thanks to Robin's counting, but still startles slightly. "Eddie?"

"Yup, just me. How you feeling, sweetheart?" He smiled, a hand resting on Steve's arm where he was now upright and only holding his knees in a gentle grip.

"Silly. I shouldn't get so worked up over just putting a poster on my wall up." Steve sighed, the admission making him fold into himself slightly again.

Eddie tutted, booping Steve's nose. "No Stevie, no need to feel silly at all. From what you've said you've had a controlling, manipulative and basically abusive pair of assholes for parents. Freaking out for going against their demands is not something silly. You are allowed to show the impact your trauma has on you, even if it's not the worst trauma you've been through."

"Don't try figuring out what's most traumatic for any of us. We're all fucked in different ways." Robin stated, "But at least we know talking and sticking together helps with just about all of it."

Steve frowned at them speaking over him, before glancing back towards his room. "I want to put the rest of the posters up, including the one I said could cover where their portrait is in the office."

"Let yourself calm down properly first, Dingus. We don't need to rush this." Robin cautioned but stood as he did to go back to his room.

"No, now I've had that reaction I know they aren't here. I'm not going to immediately panic again so any further freaking out can be all done at once after they're all up and I can start getting used to being able to have them up." He remained resolute in the decision, pulling the next poster he wanted over his desk out and unrolling it.

Robin and Eddie shared a concerned look, but moved to help a moment later. "Where are we putting this then?"

...

There were no other changes made to the house before the weekend. Steve didn't seem to think of doing more than the posters and after his reaction to just that neither Robin or Eddie wanted to suggest the bigger redecorating project they'd mentioned first.

With Hopper having been asked for help however, Steve had decided to tell Joyce, Hopper, Nancy and Jonathan that they'd learnt he actually owns his house rather than his parents. In part it was to avoid any questions over why he could decide to change the locks or might want to change the power company he's with, but mostly he just found that with each telling he could believe it a little more.

"You need help redecorating, don't you?" Nancy stated more than asked, frowning when she got dual shaking heads. Robin had been chatting with her as well as Steve and reacted alongside him.

"We've got it sorted, but when we're ready to start painting you can help if you like." She replied.

Nancy stared for a moment before nodding. "Of course. I just thought that Steve hasn't got much redecorating experience and might like some advice." she agreed.

"Advice or your own tastes pushed onto me just as I'm getting used to thinking of home as my own space?" Steve recited the question, having heard Robin and Eddie ask each other and him the same thing while looking at at posters. "Besides, I'm not doing that yet. Just making sure I can when I'm ready to."

That made her think and leave the subject alone after repeating that if they needed help painting she'd be willing.

...

When Jonathan was told, he looked thoughtful for a moment before glancing away. "Seems unfair that you got your own house when we didn't, but I'm happy for you, man." He muttered.

Steve's eyes burned. "Yeah, in all of Robin's insistence in figuring out what the paperwork I got was, she never mentioned just how much she meant by full bank account, but if it's similar to the amount I got the last two times, the government fucking sucks. At a minimum your family should have enough for multiple houses this size." He agreed, a seed of anger planted in his mind at the realisation he'd somehow got a higher reward out of rich kid privilege that he hated having for what it cost him.

Given what Eddie had said about that first document, perhaps his father's money could help to correct the difference, should the government fail to whenever he got to talk to them.

...

Hopper hadn't reacted much to the news. He'd shrugged saying it made sense and that they better pay attention while he changed the front lock cause one of them would be changing the lock on the back door.

Steve had taken this to mean intensely stare at everything Hopper did and ash questions if he wasn't sure what had just been done.

Eddie had grabbed one of his notebooks to scribble diagrams and descriptions down as much as he could.

Robin decided she wouldn't be the one changing the other lock and that she could and should do what she likes to distract them all. "Hey Hopper, how come Steve got so much more than us for fighting the upside down?" Robin asked, interrupting his demonstration of changing the locks.

He glared over his shoulder at her. "How did he?"

She gestured around them. "He got this place, an entire mansion and I've checked. The amount in my bank account after surviving two incidents is not enough to buy a fucking mansion. What gives? Is this rich boy gets bigger rewards?"

"Probably more like rich boy costs the government less if they get his parents to sign some paperwork instead of giving him reward money." Hopper scoffed. "I don't know though. Tell you what, next time something happens, God forbid it does, try getting Owens to give you enough to buy Steve out."

"I damn well might. If only to get a place for us to share." Robin nodded resolute.

Steve clicked once. "One, I've literally already asked you and Eddie to move in, don't act like you couldn't decide to tomorrow and I'd be helping redecorate my parents room to be yours. Two, explain what you just did, please Hopper. Are you just screwing the lock in now to secure it in place?"

"Exactly. Glad at least two of you care to learn this, since the girl who asked to be taught isn't paying attention." Hopper glared lightly at Robin for a second before focusing on finishing the lock. "Steve, I want you to check it works before you have a go at changing the back lock."

chapter 4

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Prompt? How about more Tegan and Hwan cute awkwardness 😌

Maybe they need to get a gift for Nijiko?

Ahhh, yeah, here is more awkwardness featuring teh ladies. 😌

this got a bit longer than intended, however, i enjoyed it. this takes place in the main story, maybe in the middle of ch9 or ch10s. still figuring it out, though. 🌌🌌🌌

send me a prompt? for any oc, dynamic, fandom characters, concepts.

Word Count: 1127

T.W/C.W: None-ish

***

A row of pendant lights shine in florescence from a ceiling. Cast across several aisles of shelves. A clerk presses a button and opens a cash register, causing a click.

By the office stationery section, Hwan carries a small basket. That's been empty. Tegan moves some stacks of papers, peeking into what's behind it. She goes towards a container of pens, scrutinizing them.

They're browsing through aisles of stationery, searching for office supplies that Nijiko might need. Her sister's birthday might be February 6, however, she wants to check early.

Somehow, Hwan had to ask Tegan to accompany her. They work in the same theatre (Tegan in the backstage crew while Hwan's in the I.T area), so it made sense that she could ask her sister's best friend for help. Even if said person used to be her crush as a teenager.

They'd been silent on the entire cab ride. So, they both used their phones, barely looking at each other. She'd have said something except Tegan seemed busy. Tapping on it as if sending texts to her friends.

And she needs to break the ice. Or else she wouldn't get any progress going.

Hwan scans a shelf of pens, knitting her brows together. "What do you think Nijiko would like having?"

"I guess she'd love to have these," Tegan answers, lifting a file folder with a stripe print. "She has tons of papers, which she prints. In her office."

She nods. "Sure. That sounds good."

Tegan slips it onto the basket. "Yeah, that's one item. Extra more to go."

"Does she need another notebook?" Hwan catches a pile of journals arranged in a horizontal line. "I'm sure she designs a renovated room by visualizing it on paper."

"I have so many unused notebooks," Tegan said with a small laugh. "So many. I did open them to get a feel of the page and stuff. Your sister also does the same."

"Okay then I should get something she'll use."

"Ooh! She's been thinking of getting a glass board! But she's been busy with several clients, so she hasn't gotten any opportunities to do it."

"Has she decorated her office yet? Or she hasn't."

"Well, actually, I'm not sure. I haven't asked her that yet. She has asked for suggestions but that was months ago. And I've been busy and I sure didn't realize that her birthday was approaching soon. I mean five months is sorta far to be soon. But I guess a head start's gonna be useful. Getting a gift in advance is a good plan. And you still have plenty of weeks before that.

"Also you should know that she's learning a new sport. She has been practicing at a center because she doesn't have equipment at her home. Ah, yeah, she's trying out some tennis. I'm not sure if she told you this but she was inspired by Serena Williams. It's been letting her blow off steam. Whether it's a long day of work or a demanding client, she. . . uh oh."

As they reach to an aisle containing pens and other office supplies, Tegan clamps her mouth shut. She glances around and lets out a shaky chuckle.

"Sorry," Tegan says, shaking her head. "I went off on that, didn't I?"

"Sorta," Hwan answers.

"Yeah." Tegan's face twists like she swallowed a lemon by accident.

"You do that when you're bothered by something?" She slings an arm over her chest, narrowing her eyes.

Tegan tenses up as if she jumps in a millisecond. "Nah! Nothing's bothering me."

"Why you do you act so weird around me then?"

"Huh? I don't get what you're talking about."

"C'mon, from what I remember, you don't apologize for rambling. Unless you must be feeling ashamed or weirded out."

"I'm not ashamed."

"Is this because I've started working in the theatre you work in? I didn't intend in putting you in any difficult position. If that's the issue, you can say that."

"Hey, that's definitely not it."

"Then what else can it be?"

"I get a little uneasy with tons of people."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"What? No, not at all. I guess having my best friend's sister as a co-worker. . . can be strange. However, I'm tryna get used to it. It's all me, it isn't you. Although, I'm sorry if I made you think that."

"Wait, is it. . . Is it because you didn't recognize me? Initially?"

At that, Tegan cracks up and her voice pitch goes high. She doubles over slightly, pressing a hand over her stomach.

"Wow, I. . . Hey, I didn't know! You didn't wear glasses before! So, it was a whiplash! I'm sorry for that, by the way. I guess you're probably thinking how stupid I was. And how didn't I notice I ran into my best friend's sister of all people. But I did know you've been back in the country, I just. . . I didn't think I'd see you around. Because I've been informed you've been busy and all."

Hwan turns away slightly, her internal temperature jumping. She bites the inside of her check, fighting a snort back.

Although it's been seven years since she moved abroad for her degree, Tegan hasn't changed much. She's somewhat more outgoing yet she's still gauche. Or probably around Hwan. No doubt Nijiko must have had a field day at learning about it.

At least, she managed to talk to her. Unlike as a gawky teen when she didn't speak, only hanging around her presence during her visits.

It's beyond what she imagined back then. And she gets it.

Tegan sure has been confused, she thinks in hilarity. The poor thing.

It's up to her to help her be comfortable, somehow. She's gotta try.

"Do you think she has something like this?" Hwan asks, getting a pantone book.

Tegan winces. "Uh, she. . . She already has one."

"It's difficult to find a present that she'd like and use," Hwan mumbles. "As far as I'm aware, she does eighty percent of her work digitally. She often mentions the amount of programs she installed. Just for her job.

"Maybe we can go to the mall for clothes." Tegan shrugs. "She's been complaining how she hasn't updated her wardrobe."

"If you think that's a good plan, let's go with it."

"Hang on. . . Are you sure?"

"You're her best friend, you know her well. I'd be glad for any help you can offer."

"Okay! Sure thing!"

"First, I'll pay for this and we'll get a ride."

"Yep, yep. Got it."

Tegan bows her head and Hwan proceeds to the queue, letting her be. She probably needs a moment to be composed.

Despite herself, a vibrance floods her within while she glances back. She scratches the side of her forehead, shaking her head a bit.

***

[anxietywriter]

you are my heaven

prompts based on the idea that 'heaven is a place on earth with you' and 'it's not what you're doing, it who you're doing it with' because as per usual, I feel soft

"has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?" "nah, it's,,, i'm not pretty. i should be the one telling you that." "that's a shame... you deserve to hear how lovely you look."

taking care of each other when they're sick, like congested, feel uncomfortably warm, have to stay in bed and eat soup sick. Something about having someone care for you while you're unwell, especially if you're used to always having to take care of yourself.

when each of them just talk about their own niche interest or hobbies for like an hour with each other, and they both have no idea what the other is talking about but they're so supportive

every single fucking song that sounds like they'd worship their partner, as if their partner hung the stars and breathed life into the earth. i love that. it's the kind of song that you'd hum or sing with a particular person or type of person in mind. and it's so fucking sappy my heart. (JVKE's Golden Hour, Hozier's Take Me to Church, quinnie's touch tank, Ricky Montogomery's Mr Loverman, Jax's Like My Father, Fujii Kaze's Shinunoga E-Wa, Stephen Sanchez's Until I Found You)

fucking,,, handmade gifts, especially when the person making the gift isn't particularly artsy,,, like. you went through all that trouble and did that to make a gift for your partner in the hopes that they'd appreciate it even if it is a little rough around the edges like,,, top tier.

people that write love letters, on paper with perfume scents and dried flowers and wax seals, in google docs with small dashes separating each new addition, in drafts that will never get posted, notebooks with lined paper written in pen with lines scratched out and words scrunched together and smudged. you love so much and you're desperate to get it out, to process how much you feel.

i love when someone who hasn't experienced much gentleness or kindness or understanding, whether due to their gender or trauma, i love when they finally do experience that. hesitant and disbelieving at first, then bashfulness, then just they're so happy and thankful and it doesn't seem like a big deal, but to them it is.

my heart when a duo that is usually attached at the hip is violently separated, the grief that each of them mirror at each other, trying to stay together. screaming, begging, crying, yelling "not them, they're all I have" the desperation

them running errands together because they want to hang out but also get stuff done. i like the domesticity of it. the idle conversation as you move through the aisles, asking if they can reach the taller shelf, picking stuff up thinking "they'd get a kick out of this," and helping to carry the groceries out of the car

[kay-elle-cee]

Jilytober prompt 18: "Nah, she didn't."

Thank you for the prompts, @jilytoberfest!

The standoff ended with a line he'd heard a thousand times.

"You're on thin ice, Potter. One more word and you'll find new wards up next time you come home." Her green eyes were narrowed and staring daggers at him, hands resting unconsciously on her uncomfortably protruding belly. She was tired of being pregnant, he knew, but something in him softened every time he looked at her and was struck at how beautiful she was carrying their child.

He put his hands up in surrender, making a show of shutting his mouth, and she turned and shuffled off in a huff.

Peter, Remus, and Sirius, who had been sitting and watching the scene with baited breath all let out a sigh of relief. They'd been on the receiving end of Pregnant Lily's ire too many times to count already, and were keen to avoid today's anger.

"So...one more month?" Remus asked quietly, lips quirking into a grin as he turned his attention towards James.

"That's what the healers say." His eyes were fixed on the doorway his wife had disappeared through, nerves buzzing throughout his body at the idea of becoming responsible for someone else in just a short month.

"Get out of your head, Prongs. It's going to be great," Sirius reassured, clapping him on the shoulder. "Besides, if it gets to be too much, you have have backup to help," he gestures to the three of them of the couch. James gave him a grateful nod.

"The wards—surely she didn't mean that?" Peter's eyes were darting from the doorway to James, concern etched on his features.

"Nah, she didn't," James shook his head.

"It's just the hormones, Pete," Sirius laughed. "We both know she'd never kick his arse out in a million years. The two of them are quite disgustingly in love, and I'm sure the baby is going to make it even worse."

Other Jilytober drabbles here.

[givemeuniversalcrossovers]

Dumb things I think about regularly, in a Soul Eater x MHA crossover Crona would be absolutely fucking besties with Toga.

My reason being, Crona has a mcfucking type of person he likes especially and that is Blonde woman. He got his momma medusa a blonde woman, he got Marie his surrogate mother figure and Maka his bestie a blonde girlie. What do they also have in common? They paid attention to him, medusa though negligent was his primary care giver, Maka extended a hand of friendship and Marie really cared about Crona during his dwma arc.

You're telling me that Medusa wouldn't look at LOV and go yea they look disposable in the meantime they know this world they're evil I'll use them as needed? She'd absolutely plot to manipulate use and leave them to take the fall I'm just not smart enough to talk about the specific how's and what she'd do. It also gives her somewhere to leave Crona when she doesn't wanna deal with him as she's doing her own thing cause if Soul Eater people just appeared in the mha world she'd have lost her base so can't keep him there.

Can you look me in the eye and tell me Toga wouldn't look at this gender ambiguous twink with pink purple hair in a dress and wouldn't go "A girrrllllll, a bestieeee" like fucking on sight she'd see Crona immediately go that's my new bestie yes girlie I'm gonna do your hair it's a fucking mess and paint your nails. Of course Crona actual gender is lmao who knows and canonically a they them though I tend to see them as a boy, but I don't think Toga would give a shit honorary girl status.

She'd essentially kinda play the Maka role narratively but evil lmao bonding with Crona and Crona would in turn be soft that's a friend and likely protective of Toga like he is Maka canonically and now probably impossible to redeem cause Toga would genuinely care about him I think. And oop loyalty to LOV. And like I think the others would like him even if he's weird™️ not even mentioning Ragnarok. They'd probably be to some level sickened by what medusa did I mean yikes melting someone down and fusing them into someone's blood, also raising your child as a living weapon to do your bidding for a goal you want to achieve stripping said child of really any personality means to combat that is urg I think they'd hate it sure they're evil but like they've kinda chosen fallen into that line of work Crona really was forced and molded into it since birth.

This is purely because I want Crona to become this badass as I think he'd really be able to grow into one with LOV and cause I think he should get a cool outfit and confidence and carry Toga around. I mean I think Dabi would absolutely mercilessly roast him over his dress robe and be like nah you look stupid let's get you some proper fucking clothes trousers and so many belts lmao. I have an agenda lmao this is just fun for me. If anyone's also had this thought and made this post I'm sorry lmao

[innerbeast]

7 10 11 12

15 questions about mun’s taste in muses.

7.what age group, gender and ethnicity do you most often end up playing?

i usually try to stick around 20's or older, but i have a few muses that are young to late teens. the older i get, though, the more i want my muses to be of similar age or old enough. my currents muses are 29 and 35 if that's any indicator of that LOL

i'm also more likely to play masc muses. either male identifying or presenting, mostly bc that's what i, myself, am ( and comfortable with ). i've had a harder time playing feminine or lady muses because i get a weird sense of dysphoria when doing so, as if people are seeing me as a woman -- which is so silly, but. it's something i'm working on, bc i DO have some lady muses

as far as ethnicity goes, that has never been a playing factor in what characters i play. although i do have a good majority of past characters that were white / carried a pale skintone.

10.if you play original muses with canon roots  ( like oc siblings, coworkers, etc. )  or someone who’s been either just a name or a few lines of dialogue in canon, how do you build that character? do you pick the muse first and build from there, or do you need have the muse ready in your head and only then pick the connection, or a combination of the two?

a lot of the time when i'm building an oc, canon rooted or otherwise, music is used heavily in order for me to try and build a personality. because once i have a personality down, i use that as my stepping stone to slowly piece everything else around that. how they look, how they'd respond to certain things, how their actions would be played out, etc.

i don't normally make oc's with canon rooted stories or ties, dar'khol being the biggest exception since the warrior of light is meant to be a blank slate for you already with a story to ride off of. and even then, he's gone through multiple iterations before i ever landed on the guy everyone is seeing me write today. i need the personality made first and foremost, otherwise nothing fits into place after for me bc i need to know the character before i can involve them.

11.have you ever built or picked up a muse because you wanted to use a certain faceclaim? how did it go?

nah. i've never been faceclaim driven for a character. there have been characters i've looked at and thought they'd be fun to icon, but that's never motivated me to actually pick up said character.

12 has been answered!