#also my narc boys

[actualbird]

I don't think we've ever had like Drunk drunk Marius. Like, he's had alcohol before in cards but he's somehow sober (I think, otherwise he just acts incredibly sober when drunk)

And I just imagine that he doesn't get drunk bc a) he has a high tolerance and b) he pretends to be sipping on some alcohol while not actually drinking any. Like everyone else is on their 4th glass or something and he's not even done with his 1st.

Why b? Because I'd just like to talk about the idea of Drunk marius being a sarcastic asshole to the point where he got banned from having more than 3 drinks at family functions.

(Last time he had more than three he insulted one of his uncle for having no art sense, told his cousin that she was the ugliest bitch he's ever seen and will never find a partner, then threw up all over some poor French von Hagen's newly made suit. the first two may have been deserved. the last one was not.)

I DONT THINK WE HAVE YEAH, though if im not mistaken, one of his MR audios is him drunk and he was a clingy drunk to mc. i cant remember which MR card this was tho orz

but this is making me lose it HELP. all the years of learning how to be a Respectable Von Hagen just go out the window past a certain amount of alcohol, poor thing.....or rather, everybody he insulted are the poor things kJBLKSJBFLSDBF

i myself like to think that marius has a pretty solid alcohol tolerance. of course, it depends on what hes drinking but also. he was an art student in florence. ive never been to florence but i was an art (creative writing) student once and the AMOUNTS of alcohol that would be drunk at parties and get togethers, my god......so in my eyes, marius can hold his drink pretty well

but i assume he doesnt like ever getting drunk at business functions in general. too much risk, 0 reward. he leaves the fun drinking times to when hes having a get together with the nxx team

and once hes drunk he can dunk on vyn non stop until vyn nearly tries to strangle him

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number

Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.

He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.

Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.

That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.

Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.

Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.

"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.

There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.

"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.

"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.

His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.

"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."

"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.

"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"

Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.

He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.

"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.

In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."

"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.

"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"

Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-

"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.

"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.

"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.

After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.

The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.

He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.

Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.

Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.

He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.

He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.

Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.

Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.

Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"

God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?

(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.

He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.

Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )

[nullbutler]

LINK IN THE COMMENTS!!!!

SEASON 2 -- THE MOVIE [REAL]

BELOW THE CUT I AM NOT LYING THIS TIME I SWEAR I AM NOT

I love season 2. Season 2 is the reason I'm here. But, I also hate season 2. I must fix season 2. I owe my soul to season 2.

That being said, I present to you BLACK BUTLER: BOOK OF SPIDERS. A movie made out of season 2, with most of the filler scenes cut out and all of the gratuitous violence framed tastefully or otherwise removed. Made ENTIRELY by yours truly, with no additional footage added. I'll never be able to fix the season, but I'll try. Forever. I'm the ouroboros. Sisyphus and his rock.

Some notes!

The costume ball sadly had to be removed (it was entirely filler)

Ciel is in a much more passive role. This is intentional, he's practically a doll thrown around by the demons.

I could not think of a way of removing the Druitt without severely mangling the episode he's in. Sorry.

Alois's trauma is portrayed much more violently, but the Former Earl gets an on-screen death :)

Spider OVA has been absorbed into the product

It is also considerably darker, because most of the tone whiplash was cut out. This is a very sad, gruesome story about a demon manipulating the boy he's cared for for so long, while another demon tortures his own master, and the two children struggle to break free.

Do you wish Alois was treated sympathetically in the narrative? Do you wish Hannah was more than her fanservice? Do you think Claude's creepiness could have been portrayed without it being SO INCREDIBLY bad?

as my dear mutuals have said:

"You got rid of that Ciel screaming scene and that's like 5 stars for me." -- @warmmilk-n-honey

"Truly proves that less is more." -- @pain-in-the-butler

"An actual digestible version of Season 2." - @mantomhive

I present to you. if you narc i swear to god Black BUTLER : BOOK OF SPIDERS

[bcolfanfic]

If you have any,,, id love to hear more hcs about the intervention

*cracks knuckles* some background first (that is over-riding my wedding headcanons a lil re: the first time they see bucky post attempt- ah c'est la vie). also these were, shocking no one atp a collab effort with @swifty-fox

it comes up to begin with bc a handful of the guys decide to go hang out and muck about in nyc. ken, curt and rosie are already in the area, and croz, brady, demraco and the buckys also fly in. yayyy!!! boy time!!!

except not *yay* in that bucky's drinking has been getting. bad.

he tries hard to mask it, takes up chewing gum every second of the day to mask the smell on his breath but he's not perfect. drinks in the shower before they go out for the day with the guys, and he's off but the guys mostly chalk it up to bucky's typical buckyisms. gale maybe knows he probably isn't sober, but he's stressed and hurting and for the sake of having fun with their friends just tries to pretend he doesn't know. esp when he's not being sloppy, just a little off.

then croz walks in on bucky doing shooters (these, if you're unfaimialr) in a bathroom he had them all stop at. tries to be gentle about it- tell him he doesn't need those, if he's thirsty they can stop and get some water. but bucky snaps at him that to not talk to him like one of his kids and things escalate. they get into it and poor brady who volunteered to go see why they were taking so long in the bathroom is the one who has to break them up just like he did in bagram. war flashbacks. literally.

croz doesnt want to make much more of a scene about it so he doesnt walk out blasting what happened, but he does text gale about it. and at this point it's obvious to everyone that bucky isn't sober and i just </3. when bucky leans into gale and says he doesn't feel good gale kinda jumps at the opportunity to go back to their hotel. wants to take care of his bucky, but is also hurting and honestly a little embarassed.

then a lot of things happen that i think i'm gonna save to write in a fic but. including not limited to gale realizing bucky is hiding alochol in diff bottles when bucky asks him to grab a water from the mini fridge and is like uhhh no no not that one, not that one. and gale breaking his own heart having to help him drink when theyre back home because he almost went into full blown withdrawal trying to just up and quit cold turkey to save face.

to your actual question about the intervention, it's mostly curt's idea- that he shares on the phone when the bucks are back in wyoming. and gale is pretty much certain it's a horrible idea but he doesn't know what else to even try so he agrees. all the guys that were on the nyc trip fly out, and gale gets bucky out of the house for the morning (curt knows where their spare key is) so that the other guys can at least. get in the house without bucky physically stopping them.

but bucky knows something is up when they pull back in the driveway. sees all the cars and *knows* what this is and just looks at gale like he's committed the ultimate betrayal </3

it's a pretty rough start. curt starts talking all "should we go dig that bullet out of the wall or d'you wanna stop pretending your healing journey is over" and when bucky understandably kinda freaks at that he makes him tell the other guys what he's talking about. poor thing doesn't want to. tells curt's that not fucking fair he's such a narc, a bad friend but curt is like no. this is eating you up inside. you need to say it out loud. they're your friends. they love you. *i* love you.

ends up telling them, and that crack in the armor is enough that he's at least not snapping at all of them/letting them talk.

but it gets rough again when it's ultimatum time. croz’s is not letting him around his kids- not because he thinks bucky would *ever* hurt them, but bucky is just. a liability in a lot of ways with this and the whole point of ultimatums is that they are. tough to hear. they have to be. or they don't work.

demarco's is that if bucky genuinely refuses to get help then gale is getting on a plane with him (whether gale thinks he'd actually be able to go through with that or not he agreed to let demarco say it). and that's when bucky snaps again. talking so hard he's spitting about oh i don't even get to go back to wisconsin? just gonna leave me in wyoming to die, huh?

and gale bursts into tears </3 which is what really makes bucky break because gale *never* cries. but now he's sobbing because god bucky's trying so hard but he's still not better and he's hurting the people he loves. he's hurting them a lot.

bucky on his knees crawls to kneel in front of him and take his face in his hands "i'm sorry im sorry please don't cry, leave if you want just don't cry baby

and gale's crying telling he just wants him to listen to him and to their friends whydoy only care now cause ‘m crying- look at /them/, it’s not fair.

bucky wants to barf when he listens, turns around and looks at their friends and seems them looking back at them like *that*. but some part of him, the part that is desperate to get better feels really damn lucky to be so loved by them that they even showed up. that they want him to get better.

[kit-williams]

I want to use the Emperor on his golden throne to fry an egg. I’ll be butchered by the Custodes within seconds but it’ll be worth. Emperor fried egg. :)

If the egg ain’t cooked to perfection then I’m using my final breath to Yeet a second egg at his divine corpse/body/being.

So I remember getting this ask and being very confused... but I put this on the backburner for when I would get around to writing yandere custodes and the necromundan scum, that one of them decided to bring home, named smoothie.

@sculptorofcrimson this is your fault/this is the funny one (again my knowledge of the golden boys is very limited/I struggle to write them)

And you lot get to benefit from it @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon

thank you to @squishyowl for the dividers

Smoothie did not like it here... the clean empty inner hallways left nothing for her to scavenge... no place to get food or drinkable water for miles. It was two days before her golden shadow found her dehydrated as she slipped away from him when he had a chance. Adonis only collected her so soon as they were about to release a small swarm of hormagaunts into the imperial palace for practice and Adonis did not like how easily she could slip from his grasp.

Like recently... Adonis felt his fingers clench and unclench as Nicodemus had jested even at how he must have picked up a mindwiped assassin with how easily she could vanish from his grip. But there was something about her that satiated the itch behind his eyes... it sated the desire to feel a crumb of affection back.

Smoothie crawled through the vents moving on padded knees and wearing thicker gloves as she looks around unable to make marks or else they'll figure out where she's going. Everything seemed to narc on her if she tried to make herself comfortable add her own touch to this gawken gawdy golden glitter glamhouse! She looks around as her body starts to tingle and she is certain that she's getting closer to the radiation.

It makes her body tingle... her nose bleed and she needs to get a bit closer to the source till she feels her teeth itch and then she's in the right spot to cook the eggs she stole from the kitchen. Not like she was gonna live very long anyway and if the glamshow that is Donnie and his brothers just casually relaxing with an open source of radiation then she could die faster making something she loved to eat.

"Adonis." One of the Companions said into the coms with a monotone drone that to Adonis belied a hint of amusement.

"Yes?" He replied going over the mental checklist of places to look for her and she rarely went to the same place twice in succession.

"She's in the vents again."

"Of course she is. Thank you Amadeus." He replied slightly between his teeth. If a companion was telling him where she was... he moved quickly.

She saw her 'lover boy' look at her with the most unamused look in his eyes as she just gave a shit eating grin offering him a radaition cooked egg, "Can I offer you an egg my lord?" She snarked at him as one of her eyes was bloodshot and her nose bleeding from even being this close to the golden throne unprotected.

"If I eat it will you come back willingly?" Adonis asked knowing he could just grab her but he hardly delt with such willful... creatures? She was certainly human... just very different from any other... paramour would be a word but so would obsession fit as equally for what this... itches would be.

"I dunno Donnie... I worked so hard in cooking these." Smoothie says peeling the shell away as she took a bite leaving a smear of the neon green lipstick she wore on the white of the egg.

"Smoothie." His augmented voice shakes the air as he does his best not to order her, because that is not what lovers did. But what the supposed ideal versus reality was also another thing to take into account.vHe watches her frown as blood trickles from her nose. She was so much more willful than any of his other paramours obsessions that it confounded him but also greatly excited him.

He is certain that his beloved Lord would have teased him... But then again he and the others would not feel that itching need so often. The pout on her green lips as she crawled closer to him before just putting one to his lips. He ate it, it was simple as he expected it to be.

"Fine we can go. At least before more of my teeth fall out." She says trying to crawl past only for Adonis to hold her to his chest. He moved quicker than she could out of the vents.

She whined as he took her to a rather unused medical area. As it was time to start some treatments to keep at bay the... Side effects of her lifestyle. Adonis had told her that she would be surprised at how much longer she would live around him. He wasn't going to let her fall apart so soon.

[c1garettesduringsex]

𝘚𝘔𝘖𝘒𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘎𝘕𝘈𝘓𝘚 | 𝘙.𝘓

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘓𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖱𝖾𝗆𝗎𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋. (𝖣𝗋𝗎𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗎?)

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: 18+ Drug mentions, Remus and reader sell and do drugs, weed, mentions of death, smoking, flirting? Tattoos, readers silly billy.

A/N: Remus lupin is hot.

The Pub was full of people, laughing, drinking. Remus and his friends were celebrating the pregnancy of Lily Evans and James potter.

but everything seemed to be in slow motion, all his friends were married, had a Partner, or pregnant. but not Remus. no, he didn’t have anything of the sort. so instead Remus went out to get some fresh air…when he found you.

in the alleyway of the bar.

you looked like some sort of god from the heavens. hair loosely resting on your shoulder, outfit that hugged in all the right ways. the smoke exhaling out of your mouth, blowing in his direction. it didn’t smell like a normal cigarette, no it was weed you were smoking.

you didn’t see him yet. too busy looking at your arm?

“Hey…” You said, now looking his way. “Hey, Dove” Against his own judgment he walked closer to you. now standing side by side, picking the joint out of your mouth. you wave it in his direction.

“What if i was a cop? or a narc?” he grinned, taking the joint. and sucking it until it lit up red with fire. you only rolled your eyes, mirroring his smirk. “I know who you are, Some of my friends buy from you.” your friends? why didn’t they buy from you then?…

“I…i have a rule with selling to friends and family,” he understood, probably more than you’d ever know.

“Yeah, i understand that rule.” The night was silent as he watched you crouched down, balanced on your knees. “Celebrating?” You smirk, standing tall. “Something like that…my best-friends are having a baby.” Just thinking about it brought a smile to his face.

“congratulations on them.” Smirking, you look at your arm again. “What’s with the glances are your arm?” He questions, stepping on the fished joint. “Nothing really, visualizing my next tattoo” tattoo?

“Any ideas?” Remus ponders, slipping up his sleeves. Revealing his own tattoos littering on his forearms. “Maybe…a wolf? I quite like the folklore behind them.” You trace the part of your arm where the ink would be. “they have folklore? You mean symbolic?” He would tell you why his friends call him moony, as his spirit animal is definitely a werewolf.

he doesn’t want to ruin the vibe you both so clearly have going on.

“they symbolize the struggle between good and evil, werewolves are technically anti-hero’s…so” you shrug, tucking your hands into your chest. “Hm I’m sure if they were real they would be”

“they actually are real…I am one, but don’t tell anyone or else” you jokingly threaten, bringing your lip to your lips in a ‘shhh’ manner.

“As long as you don’t tell anyone I am” Remus plays along, staring off into the distance. “Almost a full moon, better get going..” your red lips move into a soft smile while you talk.

“See you whenever your here next..” you wave goodbye, heading back inside to presumably go home. And Remus can’t help but imagine what your tattoo will exactly look like.

he wonders if maybe the full moon carries good luck.

Days go by, Remus shows up everyday to see if you appear. But alas you don’t, not for four long painful days, and boy was it worth the wait.

your black dress clings to your figure, hair loosely around your shoulders. As you tip the drink into your mouth, he notices the cling wrap on your left arm. It also doesn’t take long for you to spot him.

“Remus, hey!” Remus only tilts his head up for a second then goes back to your arm. In red ink is the outline of a wolf, then in black ink is the shape outline of a woman he assumes is supposed to be you inside of it.

“that’s amazing…why the left arm?” the brunette says, “ Left hand is symbolically unlucky…but the tattoo is gorgeous!” You seem over the moon with joy at your new addition to your body. “Like someone else I know.” He lets slip in the casual Conversation, although your reaction was worth it.

blushing mess in front of him, almost as red as the ink on your arm.

“that was bad.” You say blankly. “You liked it.” He retorted.

yes you did.

[jebewonmorelike]

Marshmallow Beach

wc: 3.3k pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: fairly angsty for most of it but i ended it pretty funny so there's something for everyone lmao, drowning but it's not real, mentions of financial struggle, probably an inaccurate description of cpr idk we never really learned it in school which is kind of bad lol summary: coworkerwithsomehistory!gyuvin decides to pull the meanest prank in the world on overbearingheadlifeguard!reader after an incredibly tense summer at the beach ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ i literally wrote most of this AT the beach, which was so fun. i was watching some of the lifeguards goof off together and i was like-- imagine zb1 as lifeguards. i feel like, with summer almost in full swing where i am, i will most definitely have to make more lifeguard!zb1 fics bc it's such a cute scenario. lmk if that sounds good to you. also the ending is so funny, i can picture gyuvin and the other boys perfectly in that scene UGH also i accidentally made gyuvin say his catchphrase in this, i wrote it and then i was like oh my god what... comment if you spot it

“It’s not that cold.”

You stare at the boy standing knee-deep in the ocean in front of you— his skin beginning to turn the same color as the water as his teeth chatter audibly over the crashing waves and the wind that’s suddenly picking up.

“Gyuvin, that’s enough—,” you start to scold, but the tall teenager continues to wade further into the sea. The waves are growing bigger and the sun has almost completely dipped past the horizon line.

“Hyung-ah, wait for me!” The youngest of the lifeguards calls, pulling his grey hoodie over his head and running off into the ocean after him.

“Gunwook-ah! I really don’t think you guys should be—.”

“Why are you always such a narc, (Y/N)?” Gyuvin shouts back at you, grabbing the younger boy and dunking him under the water as soon as he reaches him.

You sigh annoyedly. This was your fourth summer as a lifeguard at Village Beach; you’d been a fairly diligent and dedicated employee the past three years and at the beginning of this summer you’d been promoted to Head Lifeguard.

Your friend Taerae had been hired at the same time as you; Ricky and Gyuvin joining the team the year after. The previous summers you’d loved hanging out with your fellow lifeguard friends, goofing around on breaks, and, most importantly, being able to help beach-goers however you can. This summer, however, has been anything but enjoyable.

You’d needed the extra money before your junior year at college, so you didn’t think twice about taking the position as Head Lifeguard. But, boy… You should have. Now nearly every responsibility of the beach fell on your shoulders. There had been no time for fun, no time for friends and no time for…

“Gyuvin-ah, please,” you yell, watching as both Ricky and Taerae follow the two younger boys into the ocean until the water is up to their chests. “Are you kidding me!?”

“Can you lighten up for once!?” Gyuvin shouts back, rolling his eyes. “Oh sorry, I forgot: you’re a massive killjoy now!”

You see Taerae wince, but he doesn’t say anything. Of course that’s what they all thought of you now. You’d probably hate yourself, too. Yelling at the other lifeguards when they weren’t paying attention, handing out citations when they clocked in late, reporting back to your boss about any ways they had been lacking, blowing your whistle whenever one of them left their post unscheduled...

Everyone’s favorite co-worker had become the boss’s pet. Sure, it got you a few extra dollars on the hour, but was it really worth losing your friends? The nervous looks the new kid Gunwook gave you whenever you entered the break lounge? The multiple occasions where you’d walked into a restaurant after a shift to see all of your friends eating dinner without you?

The boy you’d had a crush on for three summers now calling you a narc; a killjoy?

You know you could’ve been a little easier on them. They were all great lifeguards; showed up and worked hard during early morning training and were (almost) always alert. But you’d only been trying to do your best and keep your position. The truth was, you desperately needed that extra money. It was the only way you were going to be able to buy your books next semester. And when your boss was always such a hardass, threatening to give the position to someone else if you couldn’t keep up...

But now all these boys only see you as a tyrant. A snitch. And undoubtedly a bad friend.

It’s a cool August evening; a party for the lifeguards before your last week of work. You were positive that you were the last person any of the boys wanted here, but Ricky had accidentally let the plan slip in front of you. Your longest friend, Taerae, had laughed awkwardly in an attempt to cover it up, walking over to you and telling you the details-- ensuring that they had just forgotten to let you know.

Though you knew the invitation was disingenuous, you’d showed up anyway. After all, it was right after your shift ended and on the beach where you work. Maybe you were just curious as to what they’d get up to. Maybe you were so starved for fun by now that you were willing to insert yourself in what had to be one of the most awkward bonfires you’d ever attended (because of your presence, of course).

And they probably wouldn’t believe you but maybe you really missed them.

“I finally got that girl’s number today,” Ricky says, taking a bite of the marshmallow on his roasting stick. “Before dinner break. She came up to me and started asking about sharks and I--.”

“Told her to stop bothering you while you were working?” You mumble to yourself before a scan around the now silent group informs you it had been audible. You look back down at your own gooey marshmallow, picking a piece off and popping it into your mouth. You knew exactly the girl Ricky was talking about. He’d admired her from afar since last summer, gushing to you, Taerae, and Gyuvin about everything she did each Friday that she came to the beach.

You should be congratulating him, but your brain has been so acutely re-hardwired this summer that all you could do was scold him for not doing his job.

“Hey, remember when you used to be nice?” Gyuvin asks suddenly, taking a sip from his can while his eyes remain locked on you.

“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just--.”

“Just doing your job, we know. It’s one of your ten pre-programmed phrases,” he interrupts sarcastically. “Don’t say too much, Ricky. (Y/N)’s just gonna report it back to the boss anyway.”

“No, I’m not,” you reply, rolling your eyes. Much more quietly, you add, “I’m happy for Ricky.”

“Are you? Are you even friends with Ricky anymore?” Gyuvin continues his criticism. “Are you friends with any of us? You barely even know Gunwook! You yelled at him for jumping off his post instead of using the ladder before you even officially met him.”

You just stare back at him, well aware that everything he’s saying is valid. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. The disdain in Gyuvin’s eyes now is palpable. It’s hard to imagine that almost a year ago to the date, you’d sat together on the shore in the moonlight-- letting the waves crash over your feet as you told him how you wished that summer would never end. How he’d leaned over to you so that your right shoulder touched his left, his large hand finding its way on top of yours innocently. How, rather than annoyance in his eyes, he’d instead looked at you like he wanted to...

“Too good for us, huh? Go ahead, ignore me,” Gyuvin scoffs, shaking his head and taking another sip of his drink. You’d zoned out-- he was right. But if he only knew the actual reason... “See if I care. Why are you even here anyway?”

You let a moment pass in silence. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you mumble to no one in particular; trying your best to hold in the flood of emotions that’s boiling beneath the surface. Taerae taps your arm as you walk past him, but you just nod passively in response-- continuing up the sand.

You take your time in the bathroom, staring in the mirror and willing yourself not to cry. When you return to the bonfire, there’s been a small but noticeable shift in the wind-- and the ocean is responding accordingly. That’s why you’re so shocked when Gyuvin suddenly pulls his sweatshirt over his head and runs towards the water with a devilish grin on his face.

And now that all four of your fellow lifeguards are up to their chests in cold, rising night waves, you’re more than a little pissed at Gyuvin. And the fear rising in your chest is becoming overwhelming.

“Binnie, I--,” you shout over the roar of the waves crashing at your feet but you know he can’t hear you. You can barely see him now; he’s under the water for at least ten seconds at a time as the waves grow even higher in the wind. “I promise I’m not trying to nag you, but you’re scaring me!”

The other boys look back at you from a bit closer to shore, weird looks on their faces. They turn to each other, now appearing wary but not really of Gyuvin’s safety. Taerae and Ricky keep looking back at you-- concern suddenly tangible in their eyes as they whisper to each other intensely.

Over the waves, you can faintly hear Gunwook calling to Gyuvin, “Hyung-ah, maybe this is--.”

Gyuvin shakes his head dismissively, stepping out further into the nearly black ocean-- a large wave rising in front of him. He turns around; smiling back towards the shore and giving a thumbs up.

“BIN-AH!” You cry as the giant wave collapses behind Gyuvin, hurtling towards the tall boy at rapid speed. If he was paying attention, the wave would be fairly easy for him to swim through. But he’s not. “BEHIND YOU!”

Before he can turn around, the wave overtakes Gyuvin-- submerging him under the water. You watch the surface, horrified as the wave knocks the other three boys off their feet before finally hitting your ankles in a soft foam. Seconds pass; the other boys eventually scramble to their feet, but...

Gyuvin doesn’t.

It’s twenty seconds. Twenty-five. Thirty.

You’re frozen in place. You’re a lifeguard-- you should be running into the water to find him. But you find yourself unable to move. Unable to breathe as if you’re the one underwater.

Luckily, the other three boys are swimming out to where Gyuvin is-- all three diving under the water before Ricky surfaces with something on his back. All three of them help carry the weight of the tallest boy between them, pulling him to shore laboredly.

When the water is finally below their knees, your body snaps out of its frightened paralysis as you finally get a good look at a seemingly unconscious Gyuvin. Running over to the boys and wrapping your hands around one of Gyuvin’s biceps to help support him, you help to drag him onto the sand.

Lying him down flat on his back, you kneel down over Gyuvin’s stomach-- a knee on either side of his chest. Placing an ear over his mouth, you check to see if he’s breathing. He’s not. Your panicked paralysis has now done a 180-degree flip; you’re so scared that any common sense has completely left your brain and you’re propelled into frantic action. You don’t even register that his heart is still beating strongly-- that you don’t have to be doing chest compressions or pinching his nose and connecting your lips to his to administer a rescue breath like you are right now...

Gyuvin’s eyes shoot open so quickly that the surprise jolts you off of him. You sit back upright on your knees over his stomach, watching as he blinks back at you wide-eyed.

The lack of salt water dripping from Gyuvin’s mouth suddenly stifles you. Something isn’t right about this.

Finally, he forces a laugh and his tone that follows is anything but frightened, relieved, pained, or any other emotions that someone who just nearly drowned might be exhibiting. “Really? Chest compressions? A rescue breath? Are you sure you’re Head Lifeguard? You seriously couldn’t tell I wasn’t actually drowning?”

You stare at him for a moment before glancing back at the other boys behind you. They look more uncomfortable than anything. Turning back to look at Gyuvin’s smirking face, which is albeit a little blue still from the water temperature, you realize you’re the only one currently experiencing any fear.

“What?” You whisper breathlessly.

“Gotcha,” Gyuvin says with a grin, lifting up on his elbows to look at the boys behind you. “I think that prank was a success.”

“You--... You weren’t drowning?” You ask, the reality of the situation sinking in. After this summer-- after what you’d said at the bonfire-- Gyuvin had decided to play this horrific prank on you to... what? Teach you a lesson? Get revenge? Traumatize you?

You turn to look at the other boys. “And you knew?”

All three of them already look regretful, heads hung slightly in shame. Now you realize that they’d been wary about this since you’d called to Gyuvin that he was scaring you. They’d turned to each other concernedly-- Gunwook had even tried to ask him to reconsider tricking you like this.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you!?” You shout, hitting Gyuvin’s chest with your hands as all of the tension spills out of you. “I thought you were gonna die! I thought you--... I thought you--...”

“What? Gonna tell the boss? Gonna write us up?” Gyuvin asks, far too sardonically. “Gonna--... Hey, wait, are you crying?”

Water is dripping onto Gyuvin’s abs and it’s not coming from the sky. The wind has lulled and the air is warm again-- the black night above the ocean dusted in thousands of clustered stars.

“Why would you do this? Do you hate me that much? All of you?” You ask, eyes fixed on the water. “I know I was the absolute worst all summer and I don’t think anyone is more upset about it than me! You think I don’t miss having fun with you guys!? This summer has been a literal nightmare.”

There’s cautious silence except the slow crashing of the waves.

“The truth is I really needed the extra money. I wouldn’t have been able to go to college next semester without it, so I’ve just had to tolerate being a miserable narc to my boss who keeps threatening to replace me-- all while having no friends during what used to be my favorite part of the year,” you confess, your dignified tears only growing more haggard. “I’m really sorry. I’m so, so sorry for everything, but why--... Why would you make me think that you--... ”

Your eyes are boring into Gyuvin’s now; his are wide and unnerved staring back at you. “I missed you so much,” you say softly, nearly inaudible over the murmuring of the ocean beside you. You know he heard you, though, from the way his body tenses under you. “But don’t worry: you’ve made it clear now you don’t feel the same.”

Your whole body is still a bit shaky from the adrenaline, but you manage to stand up-- stepping over Gyuvin and walking towards the other boys.

“(Y/N), we--,” Taerae starts an attempt at an explanation, but you’re less than interested.

Walking through him and Ricky, shoulders brushing unceremoniously as you head back up toward the recreation building, you mutter under your breath: “Jerks.”

~

You’re in the break lounge for at least ten minutes before the sound of the doors bursting open grabs your attention. It’s Gyuvin standing in the doorway, wearing his red and white hoodie again and a pair of grey sweatpants. He doesn’t say anything.

“Go away,” you threaten half-heartedly; even the energy to be rightfully mad at him has been sucked out of you.

“No,” he replies, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He leans his back up against it cautiously, obviously not wanting to upset you further by invading your space more than necessary.

You sigh deeply; it’s not angry or mocking. Just tired. “Do you need water? I know you weren’t actually drowning, but that had to hurt your throat-- holding your breath like that.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t be nice to me after I was just so mean to you,” the tall boy replies, shaking his head. “And I could’ve held my breath for five more minutes if I had to. State record holder: remember?”

You do remember. Gyuvin had told you about his swimming achievement two summers ago-- when he was just a newbie lifeguard at the beach. He’d bought you an ice cream sandwich out of the vending machine when you’d said you really wanted one. He bought you one every time after that that he’d caught you staring longingly at the machine.

“I’m really sorry.”

You both say it at the same time. It’s simultaneously painfully awkward and the greatest relief.

“I’m sorry for being so terrible all summer,” you say quickly, not wanting to have a back-and-forth over who’s gonna apologize first. “And I’m sorry for making you feel like I think I’m too good for you now or that I was purposefully ignoring you... and everything in between. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. And I’m really sad that I can’t.”

“I completely understand that you needed the money. You deserve to go to school more than anyone I know. I just wish you would’ve told me,” he says, meeting your gaze. “I wouldn’t’ve judged you. And then I would’ve known why you’d started acting all... you know.”

You nod. “I know. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Gyuvin says after a moment; a sheepish smile creeps onto his face. “My turn, I guess.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree, narrowing your eyes at him. “Better be good, too.”

“First off, I’m incredibly sorry. I went way too far and it wasn’t cool at all. I really didn’t mean to scare you like that-- I kind of thought you’d just be a regular amount of worried or that you’d catch on that it was a prank faster but--.”

“Are you blaming this on me being too stupid to figure it out or...?” You ask, an eyebrow raising at him.

“NO! No, I didn’t mean that. I just... I was really upset, honestly. I’ve been upset this whole summer about you. And then on the one night you’re actually hanging out with us again, you were still acting the same way,” he explains, a hand raising to scratch his arm. “I just thought that if you didn’t care about me anymore then... maybe I could make you care about me again.”

“By... pretending to drown in front of me? A little toxic of you-- I hate to admit.”

“Definitely not the best idea I’ve ever had,” he laughs awkwardly, hand reaching for the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N). Are you okay?”

You nod, looking down at your hands in your lap. “Was really shitty of you, Binnie.”

“Really, really shitty of Binnie, I know,” Gyuvin says, a small pout on his lips. “That guy’s the worst.”

“He really is,” you agree, a smile threatening to peek through. “But you didn’t need to make me care about you again. I never stopped.”

He looks at you, eyebrows raising with surprise.

“I feel like I missed everything this summer. Ricky’s pining over that girl that eventually paid off, Taerae trying to throw Cheez-its from his post all the way to mine, our post-work lifeguard dinners,” you recount sadly. “But you know what I missed most of all?”

Gyuvin’s eyes are bright, but he shakes his head. “What?”

“Oh come on, you know exactly what I’m gonna say,” you tease with a disbelieving smile.

He smiles back, answering softly, “Wanna hear you say it.”

The way your stomach flutters is so stupidly joyful that it’s embarrassing. “You,” you say, indulging him. “I missed you most of all.”

“I missed you,” Gyuvin echoes, grinning like an idiot. “Like... SO, so much.”

You don’t care how embarrassing you’re being anymore-- you hop up from the couch and run over to Gyuvin, lifting up on your toes and throwing your arms around his neck. He picks you up off the ground for a moment-- arms supporting your back and waist as he roughs you up a bit in his typical big-dog-energy way. He places you back on the ground, hands still attached to your waist.

You remember the look that’s in his eyes now. It’s the same one he gave you that night on the beach last summer. Is he still too shy? Is he unsure after all that happened this summer?

It’s obvious what he wants to do. Maybe you could make up for everything this summer by helping him out here...

“Your lungs must be aching, Binnie,” you start, smiling up at him sweetly. “Surely it must hurt at least a little bit to breathe now.”

Gyuvin frowns, shaking his head. “No, I’m all good! I could do it again actually if I had to.”

You narrow your eyes at him, kicking his shin lightly with your foot. “It must be so difficult for you to breathe on your own right now,” you overly emphasize each word in hopes that he catches on. “Maybe you need some more rescue breaths...”

“I don’t need--,” Gyuvin starts to deny again before his eyes suddenly widen. “I--... Oh... Uh... You know what-- you’re right! It turns out I really do need some rescue breaths after all of that. And you know, you were so good at administering them before...”

You press up on your toes again and Gyuvin carefully leans down to meet you-- your lips finding his in a long-anticipated kiss. It’s tender and his soft lips taste and feel like roasted marshmallows. You pull back, smiling at each other shyly.

“C’mon, I’ll drive you home,” he says, hand around your waist as he pulls the door open behind him.

THUD. Thud. Thuddd.

Ricky, Taerae and Gunwook look up at you from the floor-- apparently having fallen down when the door they’d been pressed against was opened.

“Hear anything good?” You ask, eyebrows raised expectantly.

All three boys mumble their apologies as Gyuvin leads you through the doorway past them. You turn around to call back to them, “Hope you guys clock in at 7:30 sharp tomorrow morning! Ricky, you’re running out of Level 1 citations.”

“Wait, what!? I thought you were gonna be super chill again from now on!” Ricky exclaims.

Taerae nods. “Yeah, didn’t you just apologize for being annoying all summer?”

“I got a citation last week for being three seconds late,” Gunwook says frantically. “THREE! I can’t do this anymore!”

“Whoah, whoah, whoah, that’s enough fellas,” Gyuvin says, popping his sunglasses on (indoors and at night). “You all better be compliant from now on. (Y/N)’s got a job to do and if any of you get in the way, you will be answering to me. Well, after you answer to (Y/N), of course.”

Tightening his grip around your waist, Gyuvin leads you down the hallway of the beach recreation building and out the doors into the warm summer night air.

“We’ve been bamboozled,” Taerae whispers.

Ricky groans, “And we still have to show up to work at 7:30 tomorrow morning.”

Gunwook twitches. “... THREE!”

[daniigh0ul]

throws this post at u and cartwheels away

prev || next

TRANSCRIPT:

MARCO: What's for dinner? TATI: Pizza. MARCO: Don't burn it this time. TATI: That was one time! MARCO (mocking): That was one time! - a little while later - JOHN: A stray followed me home. I tried to leave him by the curb, pero, no! He wouldn't stay. VANCE: Ha-ha. Very funny, Dad. (John laughing) TATI: Oh my god! What an ugly stray! VANCE: You would know, boogerface! TATI: Ew. You smell like weed. VANCE: Don't narc. TATI: OK. How's college been? VANCE: The boys are hot and the work is hard. How are you and whats-his-face? TATI: You know his name! It's Omar! And, also, we're doing great, thank you! VANCE: That well, huh? TATI: Yeah. It's just been, weird? Not because of us, but because of other people. I dunno. VANCE: You know how I dealt with my boy problems in high school? I went to college. TATI (laughing): You're a fool. (oven timer dings)

[remersgf]

I saw that requests are open... Perhaps you could write a drable of Remer taking care of a drunk reader who's kinda sad and teary eyed and keeps telling him how much they love him? (Also your other writting pieces are really good I'm still re-reading some of them :DD)

thank u for this request it’s so cute i love it😭

doug remer x (implied)fem!reader

1k words

cw: alcohol, being drunk, SAPPY!!!

enjoy :)

“douuugguhhhh” 

you slurred as you knocked on the door of your boyfriend’s house. it was around 2ish, 3ish? you stopped paying attention hours ago. you and your friends had their weekly ‘going-out’ night, and by the end of it, you were craving the warm embrace of the tall-ass man you loved so dearly. that’s how you found yourself here; standing barefoot on remer and coop’s doorstep, heels in hand, and tears threatening to drop from your eyes.

remer opened the door, greeted with your teary-eyed drunk stature, and furrowed his brows at you. “y/n? what are you doing here? come in…” he said, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in and closing the door behind you with the other.

you buried your face in his chest, dropping your heels and clutching onto his sweatshirt. you let the tears fall without caring anymore, crying into him. he hugged you back and smoothed out your messy hair with a gentle hand. 

“douuug” you weep, “love you s’muchhh,” tears now soaking his clothes.

“what’s wrong? did something happen at the bar? talk to me, baby.” he said, concern and panic laced in his tone.

“n-nothin’. just missed you, thas’ all…” sniffling, you bring your head up to look into his eyes. 

“aww, hon. you missed me that bad?” he grinned. 

“shutnnup. missed my sweetie-pie” you babbled in between sniffles, pinching his cheek.

he cringed at your nickname for him, lightly swatting your hand away from his face. remer wiped the tears and running mascara from your under eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead shortly after. 

“jesus, y/n, how much did you drink? you smell like robert downy jr.…” 

“a lot.” you smiled lazily at him with half-lidded eyes.

“figured. let’s get you cleaned up, i’m assuming you wanna sleepover?” he asked, swaying you gently in his arms.

“please.”

he led you to his room, sitting you down at the end of his bed. you watched him rifle through his messy closet, picking out his shirts sweatshirt, and a pair of his (thankfully) clean boxers for you to wear as shorts. 

“need help…” you murmur, reaching behind you sloppily and trying to unzip your tight dress unsuccessfully. 

he motions for you to stand up and he unzips your dress, letting the straps slide off your arms and fall to the floor. holding your hands, he helps you step out of the fabric. he also unclips your bra for you, dropping it once he finally gets the clasp to disconnect. he’s always so gentle with you in times like these; replacing his usual silly self with a much calmer, caretaker-like personality. he always ends up babying you, even if he’s drunk himself, and you love it. it’s exactly what you need in those moments. 

you slip his sweatshirt over your head and slide on his boxers, rolling the waistband up a few times so they wouldn’t fall down. when you had finished dressing, you couldn’t help noticing remer looking at you with heart-eyes.

“you look so cute, all dressed up in my clothes.” he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“i look just like you, you narc.”

“no, you don’t! you’re missing a couple feet” he laughs.

“thas’ not funny.” 

“yes, it is, dwarf. let me fix your face” he says, slipping away into the bathroom and coming back with a wet washcloth.

he wipes away your eye makeup first, the roughness of the towel making you whine. he moves on to the rest of your face, being sure to remove the mascara that ran down to your neck. 

“all better?” he asks.

“would be better if i had moisturizer, i feel like a piece of cardboard. i never understood why boys don’t use that stuff.”

“hand lotion works just fine for me.”

you stare at him blankly in disbelief as he stares back oblivious. he throws the washcloth in his hamper and doesn’t bat an eye at you. when he pulls you into another tight hug, your tears start again. he surrounds you, and your heart feels like it’s bursting with adoration. 

“y/n, why are you crying?” he cooed, “i’m right here. i gotcha,” squeezing your sides to emphasize his point. 

“i’mm love youuu..” you manage to say into his chest in between sad heaves for air.

“i know, honey. ‘i’m’ love you, too.” 

you stand there crying into him, hugging his torso for what felt like hours in your head. he let you get your tears out, softly rubbing your back and swaying you back n forth. after a while your breaths synced and your tears stopped, basking in the peaceful quiet.

“do… you have any tortillas?” you sniffle, looking up at him with a frown.

“you just want… one tortilla?” 

“can you get me two?” 

“of… course. yeah, i’ll be back” he replied, leaving to retrieve your precious tortillas. 

he comes back hastily with tortillas, two glasses of water, and a couple of painkillers for you to wake up to in the morning. you crawl into his bed, getting yourself comfy, and remer hands you a glass and your food. he climbs in next to you, squeezing up close and quietly observing your weak demeanor as you eat.

halfway through your second tortilla, you nearly fall asleep chewing. he slowly takes the rest out of your hands, mildly scared you were gonna bite his hand or something. he also takes your water glass, putting it on the floor next to the bed. you feel your eyes closing all the way, unconsciousness enveloping you in its warm embrace. remer carefully gets up, not wanting to wake you, and turns off the lights. he stands awkwardly in the dark silence and finishes your half-eaten tortilla before returning to you. what a strange man. 

scooting in back next to you, he holds you in his arms and pecks your shoulder, whispering an ‘i love you’ before falling asleep himself.  

[confused-therian]

Intro :3

Remember to do your daily click to help Palestine!!

Hiiii!!!! This is @tor-the-tyrannosaur's alt blog!!

pronouns.cc

I'm Theo!!! You can also call me things like dog, good dog, good boy, and other lil' doggy names! I probably have AuDHD but I haven't been officially diagnosed and I have the attention span of a cat at 4 in the morning so I'm not going to go down the path of self diagnosis(people who do tho r so cool)! I love The secret of NIMH (mostly Jenner but like-), Hazbin hotel, Five nights at Freddy's, and paleontology!! I don't need tone tags but I use them a lot (if you say that you don't like tone tags being used on you in your pinned or smthn but I use them anyway, it's because I forgot! Please, just remind me!)! I selfship with The Torch Of Makaal from spout lore! I'm okay with sharing (even though I've literally never met someone else who selfships w/ any of the characters from spout lore)

My selfship tag for me and The Torch is 🌕Icarus flew to close to the sun🔆

My selfship blog is @drflugsbf

DNI: Basic DNI criteria, Radqueers, proship, anti agre/petre, anti kin, narc abuse truthers, conservative, heavily religious (like, whole blog being themed around religion. You can still like my posts and reblog them but don't follow me! This is for my own comfort), anti neos/xenogenders, anti self diagnosis (Also, please don't call me a Kinnie"!!)

My hoard of blinkies is under the cut to save the eyes of the people who have done no wrong <33 (plspls look at them *shows them to u like a puppy who found a cool stick*)

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Obsessed with how you portray father Cygnus (I hate black sisters abuse theories) please give us all your headcannons for him!

You and me both, anon! My headcanons list for daddy warbucks is ENDLESS so here are a good chunk. Enjoy!

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s a Black through and through. Tall, broad, grey eyes, black hair, classically handsome even as he gets older and older. Behind Tom Riddle he was certainly one of the most handsome boys at school despite that he’s 2 years younger than Tom. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   his best subjects were arithmancy, astronomy and alchemy. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   his magical expertise is astounding — of course it is, he’s a Black — he can recall histories of ancient lineages in his sleep and he practices rune mapping regularly. His skin is littered in runes, though admittedly, not as deeply as Orion’s is. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   like all Blacks he relies on his name more than anything else. They’re arrogant but they’re not show-offs like the Malfoys. They’re haughty but not snooty like the Rosiers. More than anything he knows how steeped in ancient and dark magic the Blacks are and he draws on that heavily, investing himself deeply in their unique, powerful, dark magic. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he also loves hunting (muggle hunting is a favourite), wizards chess, collecting dark artefacts — which he’s been doing for as long as he can remember, having ludicrously expensive things imported from all over the world. It was a hobby of his fathers which he shared interest in. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Speaking of his dad, he and Pollux had a lot in common but Pollux’s pride and joy was always Walburga.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Pollux pushed him for a career in magical law with the Ministry. Irma wanted him to become an alchemist. Alchemy was his passion, a passion he later shares with his eldest daughter, Bellatrix. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He excelled in magical law enforcement anyway, taking additional studies to become a magilawyer. He climbs quickly in the Ministry, moving from junior to senior within the space of about four years. By the age of 30 he’s the head of magical law enforcement, the youngest wizard in Ministry history to reach that position. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   For a long time he remains magilawyer primarily keeping purebloods out of Azkaban and supporting the imprisonment of mudbloods. Yes he’s a corrupt wizard, no he does not care. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s heir (English side, Orion is the French side’s heir) to the wealthiest family in the world. He has more gold than he knows what to do with. When he returns from the continent he invests it heavily in Lord Voldemort, who he’s always thought has absolutely the right ideas about blood purity and whom he genuinely admires (despite that he was not invited to become a knight at school). 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Cygnus refuses to take the mark unlike many of his former classmates. Voldemort would’ve killed him for refusing him but Cygnus is useful and loyal despite his refusal to play destroy for him. Voldemort immediately uses him for keeping his death eaters out of prison if they’re ever caught, which isn’t often — and for writing new rules into the law systems of magical Britain. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he and Druella were a love match, though she is his complete opposite. His father approved of the match (she’s a good standing pureblood witch after all) but his mother didn’t and wanted him to marry a Black, likely his cousin Lucretia. She relented because of Walburga, who made the point of — what does it matter? His children will still be Blacks. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   onto his babies!!! He’s very very proud to be a girl dad. He adores his three witches, every single one of them is the absolute light of his life and he understands them completely. He gets Bellatrix’s adventurous mind and rebellious spirit, he gets Andromeda’s academic mind and quirky spirit, he gets Narcissa’s pristine mind and sweet spirit. He adores them for their uniqueness and very much encourages them to explore and pursue their passions.

 ◜    ۞    ◞  baby Narcissa curled up on his chest is guaranteed to make him fall asleep within seconds. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Druella definitely marks him down as the reason Bellatrix takes the mark and Andromeda becomes politically minded against their way of life. Cygnus takes none of the blame because his girls have always been single-mindedly passionate to what they believe in.  

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Andromeda’s leaving wounds him deeply, but only furthers his closeness to Bellatrix and Narcissa, remaining very much a deep and fixed part of their lives. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s daddy as fuck. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   100% Alphard was his best friend. He did not approve of him being disowned for giving Sirius gold, though he did heavily disapprove of Sirius’s actions against the family. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Walburga is the love of his life, he adores his big sister though he finds her intolerable at times (as all siblings do). He bends over backwards for her and does it without thinking twice. He is also exceptionally protective of her — cut to Cygnus decking Orion in the face for calling her a stuck up bitch and Walburga telling him she ‘wanted to do that herself!’

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Narcissa has done him the most proud for her family values and her integrity.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Bellatrix has done him the most proud for her strength, ability, power and position in society.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he approved of Bellatrix being taught magic by Voldemort when she’s 15 — after all, she’s practically a child and Voldemort is older than him what’s the worst that could happen? 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He didn’t realise how in love with him she was until he hears them conversing when she’s 19 and engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange. He didn’t mean to listen in, but he overhears her begging him not to marry her to Rodolphus and take her instead. He says no but that it won’t change things between them, she’ll always be his first. It stilts Cygnus entirely and he leaves quickly. He never shares what he hears with anyone, even Bellatrix.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he finds out about Orion and Bellatrix’s affair first. He finds them asleep together when they’re in Orion’s home in France. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   if he could, he’d have had her marry Sirius and keep the Black family name. As it is, he was too young for her and also she seems dead set against having children anyway — and he doubts Sirius could change her mind, so he relents against his preferences for her marriage. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   as for Rodolphus I have two ideas for how this could go: either way he loves his son in-law, they have an excellent relationship and they’re both dangerously protective of Bellatrix. 1. Rodolphus and Bellatrix have been best friends since their childhood, it makes sense they marry each other. Bellatrix doesn’t mind so much, he’d make for an easy enough match and she does seem to adore the wizard. It’s an easy engagement, easy marriage, and they make a beautiful couple. 2. Rodolphus is Cygnus and Voldemort’s age, a former peer of theirs. Rodolphus never marries and never shows he’s interested in Bellatrix. Bellatrix expresses her interest in him directly to a very surprised but perfectly pleased Cygnus who agrees he’s an exceptional wizard and would make for a brilliant husband. Plus if Orion proves anything, he knows his girl has always liked her older wizards. They court for some time, get engaged within a year and married in the next — again they make a beautiful couple. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he is not keen on Lucius Malfoy despite that he seems to dote on Narcissa and bend to her every whim. Narcissa deserves far better — but honestly no one would be good enough for his most precious girl, so fine.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He knew about Bellatrix and Voldemort’s affair and did everything in his power to keep it from ruining his daughter’s reputation which he felt she was being reckless about. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he tried to talk her out of it multiple times but it only seemed to further her closeness to Voldemort and Voldemort’s iron-tight grip on his daughter. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   one day when he finally confronts him, Voldemort says if he wanted to make his pretty little daughter his personal whore he would, and who would stop him? Certainly not Cygnus Black. Cygnus (in his very characteristically Black temperament) pulled all Black funding from under Voldemort’s feet and found himself on the other end of Voldemort’s wand. When Cygnus refused to relent despite the threat of death, Voldemort turned his wand onto Bellatrix. He had the choice — continue giving him the gold he wanted or lose his heiress. He didn’t think he could actually kill her given how close they were and how heavily involved with everything Bellatrix was (and quite frankly, how obsessed and possessive of Bellatrix Voldemort appeared to be) but Cygnus complied.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he once more risked Voldemort’s wrath by demanding the man at least have the decency to marry his daughter when he gets her pregnant. Voldemort only laughed and Cygnus lost what little respect for him he had left after that. Though he continues supporting the cause, he actively avoids Voldemort unless he can’t. Even then, he speaks to him with a candour and freeness no one else (except Walburga and Pollux) seem able to. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Despite that, he absolutely adores his little granddaughter (more than his grandson, sorry Draco). Delphini means the world to Cygnus and he’s grateful to Walburga for legitimising her. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞  the most devoted, hands-on grandfather you will ever come across. Absolutely spoils his girl rotten just like he did her mother.

 ◜    ۞    ◞  he continues hunting well into his older age, almost always solely with Bellatrix. It hurts him just a little she goes with Voldemort more than him. During the height of the war he never sees her without him nor him without her. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he loses his job when he fights for Bellatrix’s release from Azkaban prison. He’s disbarred and revoked of his positions and titles. He’s heart broken and inconsolable at his daughter’s imprisonment, his most beautiful, shining star chained behind bars. He misses her beyond belief and not Walburga, Druella or Narcissa are able to pull him from his grief.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he dies from the heartbreak of losing Bellatrix to Azkaban and then soon after, Walburga’s death. No one is with him when he passes, but his hand is tight around the picture he keeps of Bellatrix with him all the time. Delphini takes the picture and keeps it herself. 

[nick-close]

I’ve discussed my hc that Nick Close makes food crimes- spray cheese on everything, weird combos, sweet on salty on cheesy on sour- he often eats Doritos with spray cheese and says they’re nachos like a criminal. This boy eats like a maniac to the point where his friends are convinced it’s just to gross them out. (It’s not.)

Now I raise you: narc is also like this, he just also eats vegetables because his dad says to. He hides his food crimes because he’s embarrassed. But he eats them. Whipped cream, ketchup and spray cheese on scrambled eggs. Chocolate sauce on his leftovers of anything. They’re both disasters with food. Ty.

[evil-comic-artis-t]

AAAUAUH3H3H3HEHEHEHE IM FINALLYY DONEE WITH MY AGENT OCSSS!!!!

Here's Captain3!

Their name is Narce! (Another name for the Mother Of Pearl)

I based them off the original Splatoon rabbit concept!

Since the first Splatoon game came out in 2015, I wanted Agent 3 to have a scene kid phase, so thats what those stripes are supposed to reprisent. I feel like in the Splatoon universe, it would be called like... tigerfish tentacles or smthn 😭

With Sanitised3, I hid one eye and the other was partially cover to make it look human???rabbit-like????? idk. This links to my headcanons of Sanitised inkfish not having control over their ink, causing it to leak out a lot. I wanted their movements to seem really sloppy while sanitised too.

this final one is after their sanitisation, I wanted to show what the scars looked like at first but then over time a few scars have faded away.

additional notes:

-Splatoon 1 they had inkling girl hair, splatoon 2 inking boy but splatoon 3 is a combination of the two which also makes them look more rabbit like.

-I wanted to make the eyes connected like in swim form

-Theyre actually quite jealous of agent 4 since they're considered more powerful and "better" despite their role as captain

-How i got the name Narce is actually kinda silly... I thought of how they called 3 Sango when they were dj battling marina or smthn, then that reminded me of Sango Pearls from Genshin, then pearls reminded me of a steven universe roleplay game i used to play which had Narce gems so... heheh...

ururgehrhh it took me so unnecessarily long for their design eheheh...

[overthedub]

The first of the 2005 Gorillaz' Iceberg Radio takeovers, starting with 2-D! These are the bits in-between the songs where 2-D talks about his influences and music he likes with some extras thrown in.

Iceberg Radio was initially a Canadian Internet radio service back in 2005 and has since been bought and renamed to AccuRadio. The site no longer has these radio spots uploaded, so the takeovers are considered lost media.

Audio taken from Blur Archive Project’s archive folder (with their permission), which you can find for yourself here: 

You can listen to the full uncut radio takeover with songs included there!

Playlists for 2-D's picks:

Youtube playlist:

Transcript under the cut!

Radio announcer: This is 2-D from the Gorillaz taking over exclusively on icebergradio.com!

[Beck’s “E-Pro” playing in the background]

2-D: Oi! This is 2-D from Gorillaz! And I’ve invited myself along for an hour to spin some of my favorite discs.

Right, to kick my show off, I’m gonna play a track from enormous talent in a pint-sized body. This is Beck, with his song “E-Pro”!

[After “E-Pro”]

2-D: That was the latest tune from the extraordinary talent called Beck! Featuring a big Beastie Boys’ breakbeat and a Dust Brothers’ production.

Funny-lookin’ bloke [in reference to Beck]. Apparently, right, he’s only, like, about two foot (2′)? And, uh, they pack him away in a shoebox after his concerts, awright? Um, yeah.

[Interpol’s “Narc” playing in the background]

2-D: Next up, this is Interpol with “Narc”.

[After “Narc”]

2-D: Uh, that was Interpol and next up, uh...Oh, wait a sec. I didn’t put this in there! The Bravery? That’s a funny-lookin’ band, innit?

[The Bravery’s “An Honest Mistake” playing in the background]

2-D: I think they’re havin’ a right laugh tryin’a play this song with a straight face. Well, here you go! "An Honest Mistake”! You said it, boys.

[After “An Honest Mistake”]

2-D: Hey! This is 2-D! I’m the singer and the pin-up of Gorillaz! I’m taking over for an hour. I’m playin’ all my old favorites.

[The Clash’s “Train in Vain” playing in the background]

2-D: This next track is by one of my favorite bands of all time: The Clash! Mick Jones sings this one and it’s called “Train in Vain”.

*Note: Mick Jones is the lead guitarist for The Clash, but he also sings lead vocals on a few songs, including "Train in Vain (Stand By Me)".

[After “Train in Vain (Stand by Me)”]

2-D: “Walworth’s version of David Bowie, who happened to make great singles, can now afford his own place to hold his goth concert—”

Hang on! I’ve got me notes mixed up. Oh, oh, wait a sec, that’s meant to be for Gary Numan. Uh, comin’ up is a song from Blur’s last album. This is an excellent track, although I think the vocals on this sound like the singer’s tryin’a copy the way I sing! Rude!

[Blur’s “Battery in Your Leg” playing in the background]

2-D: This is the last time Graham played guitar with Blur. Outstanding!

*Note: Gary Numan was the lead singer for the English band Tubeway Army before becoming a solo artist. Graham here refers to Graham Coxon, the lead guitarist for Blur. He has since returned to playing for the band in 2009.

[After “Battery in Your Leg” / “Hallelujah (Club Mix)” by Happy Mondays]

2-D: That was, uh, the Happy Mondays with “Hallelujah”! With singer Shaun Ryder. You’re listening to me, 2-D from Gorillaz.

Right! This next track, right, is a killer Gorillaz tune from our new Demon Days album! And it features the geezer Shaun Ryder. From the Happy Mondays. That you, uh, just heard singin’ on that last record. Yeah.

This is “DARE” by Gorillaz!

[After “DARE” / “I Predict a Riot” by The Kaiser Chiefs

2-D: That was the Kaiser Chiefs, a brand-new British band. Uh, they’re also great live. Singer looks a bit like Damon Albarn, bloke from Blur.

All the last Kaiser Chief singles have been great, and here’s something else to put a smile on your face: Joy Division! With “24 Hours”.

[After “24 Hours” / “The Headmaster Ritual” by The Smiths]

2-D: That was a song by the miserable Morrissey bloke about getting caught smoking cigarettes in the school bulbs and getting spanked by a load of teachers. You’re listenin’ to me, 2-D!

Next up...oh, right. I-I’m sensin’ a theme here. Joy Division, Smiths, and now this track is called “No Fun”. Hm. Mind your backs. It's The Stooges.

*Note: Morrissey was the lead singer for the band, The Smiths. He has since become a solo artist since the band broke up.

[After “No Fun”]

2-D: That was Iggy Pop, suffering for your sins. And now, the biggest selling 12″ of all time and born out the remnants of Joy Division: the fantastic New Order with “Blue Monday”!

*Note: Iggy Pop was the lead singer for the band The Stooges, who have broken up and reunited multiple times.

TW: Suicide - Joy Division initially broke up due to their lead singer, Ian Curtis, committing suicide. Later, the lead guitarist and vocalist, bassist, and drummer of Joy Division reunited to form the band New Order.

[After “Blue Monday”]

2-D: Hi! This is 2-D from Gorillaz, uh, and that was New Order. Comin’ up next are the very influential Kraftwerk band! They-They along with Das Kotzen Bots were the pioneers of minimalist electronic music. I think this track is about, uhhhh, sexy robots or something? “Das Model”!

*Note: I couldn't find the other band 2-D is talking about, so the band name may be wrong.

[After “Das Model”]

[Bloc Party’s “So Here We Are” playing in the background]

2-D: Ooooh! That is just so German! And here’s another great band from Britain: Bloc Party! And this is one of my favorite singles to come out in a while. Apparently, they’re great live, too, so check ‘em out! You’re listenin’ to me, 2-D!

[After “So Here We Are” / “Just Like Honey” by The Jesus and Mary Chain]

2-D: Uhhh, that was The Jesus and Mary Chain! They were like The Velvet Underground meets the Sex Pistols with spotty shirts and curly hair. Basically, they’re black rebel Motorpsycho for grandads!

Next we have...huh? I don’t believe it! Someone’s been muckin’ ‘round my record collection! Who put this in ‘ere? Huh? David Gahan?!

Right. Uh...well, I guess I better play it. This is “Peo-ple are Peo-ple” with a song called Depeche Mode.

*Note: David Gahan is the lead singer for the band Depeche Mode. 2-D mixes up the song and band name here.

[After “People are People”]

[N.E.R.D.’s “Things are Getting Better” playing in the background]

2-D: You’re listenin’ to me, 2-D from Gorillaz! N.E.R.D. are the band that the Nexus wanted to produce, and this is “Things are Gettin' Better”.

*Note: Nexus here may refer to Nexus Music, a Danish music label. I'm not quite sure what 2-D says there, so it may be a different label.

[After “Things are Getting Better” / “Elephant Stone” by The Stone Roses]

[Buzzcocks’ “I Don’t Mind” playing in the background]

2-D: That’s The Stone Roses. And from one monkey-based singer to another, I’d like to say that The Stone Roses are a great band! This is the Buzzcocks!

[After “I Don’t Mind”]

2-D: That was the Buzzcocks, who were like a punk-rock version of The Beatles. And that was called “I Don’t Mind”. If you don’t already have it, you should get your hands on a copy of the Buzzcocks’ Singles Going Steady album.

Next is The Jam with *singing* “Goin’ Underground”!

[After “Going Underground” by The Jam]

2-D: Well, that’s it! My time’s up. This is the last track from me, 2-D from Gorillaz tonight, and it’s by a band called Wire! A long-time favorite of mine.

[Wire’s “Mannequin” playing in the background]

A lot of their work was quite abstract, but they were intelligent artists who could also do, like, pop melodies? Uh, this is one of ‘em! You’ve been listenin’ to me, 2-D from Gorillaz, muckin’ about. I hope you enjoyed it! I’m out of here like I stole somethin’! See ya!

[the-bottle-system]

hi! this is a personal system/plural positivity blog run by @cheesecake-the-chicken, the Bottle System. this blog was originally inspired by @funnier-as-a-system , @funnier-as-a-fictive and @is-this-plural :3

(DNI/BYF under the cut!)

about this blog!

this blog is open to singlets, plurals and those in between of ALL origins and backgrounds. syscourse and exclusionism is not welcome here, please be kind! we’re really going to only focus on our own experiences as a median system or things similar to it. we’re open-minded though!

this was originally going to be a meme page but we realized it might be better to just make it general positivity as well :3 it’s slowly becoming more of a personal blog but we’re going to try and post more positive/lighthearted stuff here

DNI list/BYF

please DNI if you are homophobic/racist/transphobic/conservative/ableist/pro-isr-el/anti-Palestine, proship, profic, anti-anti, comship, pro-MAP, pro-zoo, pro-ed/ana, traumacore, RCTA/ECTA, are weird about/against conflicting labels and good faith identities, “radqueer”/“kandiqueer”, NSFW agere/petreg (sfw regressors welcome!), sysmed, or if you believe in “narc abuse”/vilify people with personality disorders.

we are “pro-endogenic”/support all systems but we are neutral on syscourse!

18+ blogs are ok to like/reblog but keep in mind that we are bodily (and mostly mentally) a minor.

about us!

we ourself are a mixed origins system! we fall under both the traumagenic and endogenic umbrellas. we are monoconscious so we use i/we interchangeably, and we prefer the terms fragments/parts/pieces/etc in favor of headmates/alters/etc! (we may use headmates to refer to each other, but we don’t want others using the term.)

tag system!

#&reblogs: reblogs!

#&media: any images/videos/files/etc

mod tags!

#&🎀: mod ribbon! the host, who mainly runs our other accounts as well. he/him

#&⚙️: mod cog! a fictive of the host? it’s complicated lol. besties with mod bubbles and mod steel! she/her

#&👁️‍🗨️: mod ferris! aspiring to be a cool emo boy someday. they/them

#&🫧: mod bubbles! also similar to the host. doesn’t go on tumblr much! besties with mod cog and mod steel >:3 she/her

#&🔩: mod steel! he doesn’t use tumblr much either. besties with mod cog and mod bubbles! he/him

#&📼: mod cassette! he’s new around here. hi bubbles, hi ribbon! look out for steel, haha. he/him

#&🧂: mod salt! not too much to say. the others are curating my music taste lol. he/him :)

we’ll edit this post as necessary!

[x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

for drabbles: more Tommy and Maria? you gave them such a cute family and I want to see more of that!

I'm actually working on a one-shot (tentatively titled Stand on the Rock) about them, which fits into my People Still Listen to Fleetwood Mac in the Apocalypse series. It takes place a year after the events of Go Your Own Way, and about two-and-a-half years before As Long as You Follow. Again, have a (long!) snip!

A crash resonated from somewhere within the house – downstairs, judging from the overall distance that seemed to carry it – and then a shout quickly followed. A second later there was another sound, and a far more terrifying one at that: the shattering of glass, followed by a young voice yelling out in surprise and then a more feminine tone screeching out, “you asshole!” 

“For fuck’s sake –” Maria turned her head, moaning this into her pillow. “Tell me I didn’t just hear something glass break.”

“You didn’t hear somethin’ glass break,” Tommy grunted. Still, they didn’t move, seemingly frozen in place. A deep sigh left his lips, his forehead pressed against her braids. “Maybe we can just…lay here, pretend like we didn’t hear nothin’.”

“Mama!” The sheer desperation of the cry made them both groan, and that was that – all hope was lost. Within seconds, their – thankfully locked – doorknob was rattling, twisting back and forth and shuddering as a small fist pounded against the painted wood. “Papa! Let me in!”

“You want broken glass, or the three-year-old?” Maria pulled herself away from him with a groan, leaving him suddenly feeling rather cold even under the warmth of their duvet. She slid out from over the covers and sat up at the side of the bed, stretching herself long, her feet on the ground and her head tilted back as her hands grasped at the back of her neck, working out the knots in her muscles. 

“I want you to get back in this bed, cariño,” he grumbled, reaching his arm out long just to tug at the bottom of her sleep shirt. “Whatever’s broken’ll still be broken in five minutes.”

“Five minutes, huh?” She twisted around to look at him still laying against his pillow, one eyebrow arched toward her hairline. “What girl could possibly resist an offer that enticing?” She rose to her feet as he chuckled, opening her dresser drawers and grabbing a clean pair of underwear and some jeans, both of which she wrangled over her hips with impressive speed as she hopped her way to their bedroom door. There was still a small pair of lungs bellowing for mama and papa on the other side, but as soon as it was unlocked and Maria pulled it open, the little face that was there to greet them switched from abject misery to pure joy almost immediately.

“Mama!” Artie threw hands in the air, jumping up and down on his tip-toes expectantly. Maria acquiesced immediately, sweeping the boy up in her arms and holding him securely at her shoulder. “Teo and Cece broke something!” he informed both of them chirpily, and Tommy snorted even as he covertly pulled his boxers back over his thighs, still under the protection of the blanket.

“My son, the narc,” he said, holding his hands out.

“My son, the state’s witness,” Maria corrected him, pressing a sloppy kiss on the boy’s cheek before dropping the giggling bundle of curly hair and fire engine red pajamas on top of the covers, where he immediately made a beeline for his father’s waiting arms. “All yours, Casanova. I’m going downstairs – see what the other two have managed to destroy. My bet’s on a window.”

“Don’t be a pessimist, mi vida,” he chided her, and she paused in the doorway, “we also got a TV, some mirrors – I mean, the possibilities are endless.”

She didn’t even bother replying directly to him, letting the shake of her head and a few mumbled words do it for her, and he listened to her feet stomping down the stairs while Artie pushed himself into his arms, pressing his face against Tommy’s chest.

“Do you know what they broke, cachetes?” he whispered to the toddler, brushing some of his curls away from his eyes. The boy shook his head, though his smile only grew. “No? You were in bed?” Artie nodded this time, and Tommy laughed. “Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second.” 

Artie said nothing to this, but he giggled again, reaching up to tug on the collar of Tommy’s t-shirt so he could pull himself closer to the man’s chest. He nestled in, a small, warm body curled against his father, and Tommy welcomed the embrace, more than willing to steal a few extra moments of rest so his heart could find some calm before the demands of the day began. He knew well enough that this was all very temporary – that someday Artie would decide that he was too old to start his mornings this way, that eventually he wouldn’t even want Tommy to hold his hand while they walked through the streets of Jackson. He still remembered the sting of it, the first time Sarah surreptitiously pulled away from him before they could cross an intersection together, barely seven years old but already convinced of her need for independence. 

“It’s just you, me, and the alborotadores today,” he said softly, palming one of Artie’s comically rounded cheeks. It was almost disappointing that they were beginning to diminish; that the boy was growing into his looks, stretching taller by the day and developing a leanness to his limbs that was propelling him out of toddlerhood faster than Tommy expected or wanted. “What d'you wanna do?”

When Artie smiled he was all Tommy, his nose wrinkling out of habit, a wide grin stretched over his teeth. In moments of tranquility Maria's influence on his features became more evident, his dark eyes just as wide and observant, his nose, when settled, more rounded at its tip. His hair seemed to darken more and more every day – and it was the hair that always gave Tommy pause, so reminiscent of the cousin he would never get to meet, tightly-coiled and springy and barely able to be contained under a hat when the weather turned cold. It was the hair that always caught his uncle’s attention, too; where his eyes always lingered for a little longer than he meant for them to, his expression carefully neutral until the child’s attention was upon him and he would remember to immediately force a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

“Pancakes,” said Artie now, “with syrup.” 

Forget the syrup one goddamn time, and Tommy was certain he would never hear the end of it. Still, he smiled down at the pair of eyes that were now carefully watching him, a young face that brightened considerably when he nodded in agreement. “Pancakes it is. Gotta go to the dining hall for it, though. You’re gonna have to get dressed – no pajamas allowed. You wanna get started, and then I’ll come in and help?” “Okay!” Invigorated by the promise of pancakes, Artie sprang up at once, crawling over his father and not even noticing the sharp ‘oof!’ pushed out of Tommy’s lungs when one of his small knees connected with sternum, dropping down on the other side of him and then wiggling down the side of the bed until his bare feet touched the cold hardwood. “Hurry!” the boy yelled, already dashing into the hallway. Tommy sat up slowly, one hand rubbing at his aching chest, a deep sigh leaving his throat.

He’d been awake for less than ten minutes, and already he could tell it was going to be a very long day.