#and one of them always gets out a bit later than their time slot

[trashpocket]

steddie sketches 💖 (mostly fluff) but here! i offer increments of what if steve and eddie were dancers from two different styles??? or what if steve was a professional basketball player and eddie, the rockstar, was his boyfriend??

[httpdwaekki]

sleepy cramps | b.c.

summary: your cramps wake you up but channie is there to help.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: i tried to keep it gender neutral, however!! periods and cramps are mentions so read at your own risk.

a/n: omg ash knows how to post at a normal time when she's not sleep deprived *gasp* crazy right? you guys know the drill not proof read too many pet names blah blah. i have realized that i apparently need alot of comfort in my life because that is all i write LMAO. anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

p.s. pls send me some requests i really wanna try and branch out but i have no ideas, okay love u bye. <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

“baby?” you hear a familiar aussie voice call out. “i’m home!” you hear him take off his shoes and set his bag down. “baby?” he yells once more, keys jingling as he places them on a hook by the door.

you let out a grunt, hoping to signal to him where you were. you were currently bundled up half asleep in your shared bed, facing the door. you were exhausted from the day and your period, and barely keeping your eyes open. 

the hall light flicks on before a figure appears in the doorway. you lift up your head a bit, giving him a sleepy smile before settling back into your warm cocoon of soft blankets and plushies.

he smiles before making his way to the side of bed, squatting down to eye level with you. he lifts his hand, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “hi pretty.” your cheeks warm.

“hi bub.” you mumble. “you sleepy bug?” he asks softly. you nod, a yawn escaping you as if emphasizing your drowsiness.

he smiles, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “alright bub, give me 10 minutes to get ready for bed then i’ll come lay down okay?” you nod once more, sleepy smile still present on your face.

he moves,  placing a kiss on your lips before standing to his full height. “i’ll be right back!” he yelled, running into your en-suite. you giggle before relaxing into your cocoon, sleep welcoming you quickly.

once chan finished in the bathroom, he came out to find you curled up, now facing his side of the bed, soft even breathes escaping you.

he coos before making his way to his side of the bed. he lifted the sheets, sliding under them before gently pulling you to him, body melting into his.

he wraps his arms around you, “good night my sleepy baby, i love you.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your temple, before relaxing, letting sleep take over.

this didn’t last long however, chan lightly awoke maybe an hour later, to you stirring in your sleep, light whimpers escaping you. after hearing the first whimpers leave your mouth, he was very alert. he quickly looks over your body trying to determine what’s bringing you distress.

he catches a glimpse of your face, which is contorted in discomfort. he places a hand on your cheek once more, trying to gently wake you. “baby wake up.” he whispers, lightly tapping and stroking your cheek.

after a few seconds you finally wake, only to let out a yelp in pain, curling into the body beside you. “hey hey, baby, what’s going on?” he said kissing your head, rubbing your back.

“period.” you managed to get out, trying to curl further into yourself. one arm wrapped around your lower abdomen, the other one clenched into a fist against your forehead.

you start holding your breath unconsciously, praying the pain will subside. chan notices and gently taking your fist in his.

“breathe baby, breathe,” he says calmly, opening your fist to slot your fingers through his. you let out a jagged breath leaning your forehead against your joined hands, “squeeze my hand if you need to jagi but, you gotta breathe baby.” his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

you take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything over than the stabbing pain in your abdomen. “doing so good bug, just breathe.”  his other hand coming up to smooth the crease between your eyebrows. 

your breathing evens out slightly as the pain lessen a bit. a moment of silence passes before you sit up, hands still entwined. chan follows you, rubbing small circles on your back. “did you take medicine earlier?” you nod your head. “right before you got home.”  he hummed, understanding.

 “i’ll be right back, okay?” he whispers, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. you nod slightly, focusing on your breathing. he leans over, placing a kiss to the side of your head before getting up and making his way into the bathroom.

you grab a pillow behind you hugging it as you wait for him to return. a few moments passed before he reemerges with your heating pad in hand. he rounds the bed, plugging in the pad before sitting next to you.

“i’m gonna move this quick, okay?” you nod, moving your arms. he grabs the pillow, placing the heating pad in it’s place. “thank you.” you mumble, leaning on him, placing your head on his shoulder. “you’re welcome bug.” he kisses the top of your head before placing his there.

you sit there for a moment before you feel the guilt slowly creep up, the lump forming in the back of your throat. you turn your head into his shoulder as tears start to stream down your face.

“hey, hey, do you want more medicine? what can i do?” he asks, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles. you shake your head, before moving to put your hand in your hands.

“i’m sorry channie,” you cried. “i know you’re probably exhausted, and shouldn’t have to deal with this.” you feel him move in front of you before placing his hands on your face, lifting it. “i am your boyfriend, it is my job to take care of you when you need me. and right now you’re in pain because of something you can’t control.” he pauses, looking into your eyes, gently wiping the tears running down your cheeks.

“i will always take care of you, doesn’t matter, time, place, if i’m tired or not, i will always help you. understand?” you nod, moving into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, shoving your face into his neck.

he wraps his arms around your torso pulling you impossibly closer. “i love so much, jagiya. okay?” you nod your head quickly. “i love you too, more than you know.” you say into his neck, placing a kiss on his skin. 

you both stay like that for a moment before chan pulls away slightly. he wipes your tears once more before placing a kiss on your lips. “let’s get you to sleep, hm?” you agree, moving back into the mattress.

you watch him make his way to his side, getting comfortable under the duvet. once settled, he opens his arms for you to lay down. you giggle before quickly laying on him, making sure your heating pad was still in the correct position.

you place a kiss to his jaw before settling into his chest, duvet pulled to cover both of you. “thank you, i love you so much.” he places one last kiss to your head. “ you don’t have to thank me, i love you so much, good night my sleepy baby.” you smile, feeling at peace. “goodnight, channie.” you place a kiss over his heart before both of drift off once more.

do not repost

*feedback is always appreciated as are likes/reblogs!*

[13uswntimagines]

Rainbowfish (Leah X Alessia X child!r)

Request: R calls Leah mom for the first time.

Part of the Big Emotions universe- find more here.

Warnings: none. Cute Kid Fic.

Author's note: TBH I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one, and the ending is a bit short, but I wanted to get it out. Also, I know in the UK it's Mum and not Mom, but that's a plot point I want to explore later Lol. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Your bedtime story was very important business in the Russo-Williamson household. 

It was the one part of your routine that never ever changed. The one part that you would refuse to sleep without (aside from a few weeks during the World Cup). 

It was your absolute favorite part of the day, being cuddled into your Mama’s side with Squirt as she read you the book of the night. She did all the little voices and gently scratched your back. it never failed to send you straight to sleep. Most of the time you didn’t even make it through the book. 

Alessia treasured it. 

No matter how busy your days were, she made sure she got to read you your story. In the days with Manchester United, it had been the only time she really got to spend with you regularly. Things were better with Arsenal and since you had moved in with Leah, but your routine had stuck, and Leah respected that it was your special time with your mama.

“‘Thank you! Thank you so much!’ The little blue fish bubbled playfully, as he tucked the shiny scale among his blue ones,” Alessia read, watching as your tiny fingers traced the tiny shimmering scale on the blue fish on the page, made of a different material than the rest. 

It was your favorite part of The Rainbow Fish. 

His scales were different from the pages, so they shimmered in the fairy lights around your room. 

“Is Leah Rainbow Fish?” You asked, running your fingers over the fish. 

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled together, a crinkle forming between them (identical to the one you always got). “What do you mean bug?”

“Is that why people always stop her?” You glanced up at your mama, meeting eyes that were identical to your own. “So she give them a shiny scale,” 

You wondered how she hid them all under her clothes. Maybe that was why people always wanted her and your mama to take their shirts off, to see their shimmery scales. 

Alessia hummed, rubbing her hand through your messy curls. “Leah is kind of like a Rainbowfish, but instead of giving away scales, she reminds people that they’re special too,”

A little crease appeared between your eyebrows as you processed the thought, and you dragged your little finger from the Rainbow fish towards the larger fish on the page. “Is Leah my mommy like Rainbow fish has mommy?”

Alessia eased another curl from in front of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. “Do you want Leah to be your mommy?”

You nodded. “She does bath time, and plays with me, And never forgets the popcorn for movie night,”

“She does,” Alessia agreed, her lips turning into a fond smile. 

“And she loves us,” You continued, meeting her eyes. 

They shined in the fairy lights of your room, glimmering with an innocence that Alessia would protect until the day she died. 

You mama hummed. “Very very much,”

“Then that means she’s mommy because she does all the mommy things,” You said, with a sense of finality, and understanding that was far beyond what Alessia thought a 2-and-a-half-year-old could understand. 

“Hmm,” She paused, brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. Her and Leah had never fully discussed titles, but she could see that you were right. That the defender had slotted perfectly into the role. That Leah had earned it. “I think Leah would be happy with whatever you decide to call her,”

You nodded like it was a done deal. “Finish story now?”

Alessia swallowed, unable to stop the fond smile from curling across her lips. “Yeah bug, well finish the story,” 

She would let you be the one to tell Leah about the discussion. 

She was sure the defender would appreciate it more coming from you anyway. 

******

“Come on bug, the sharks are this way,” Leah said softly, adjusting the ear defenders that accompanied you on most outings as you stared at the tank of Seahorses. 

These were painted with tiger sharks, sea turtles, seahorses, and jellyfish, a perfect accomplishment to the atmosphere of the aquarium, and the reason Alessia had them made.

It was probably a toss-up between the aquarium and the zoo for your favorite one-on-one activities with Leah. The carefully selected outings that weren't too loud, or overstimulating that Leah could take you on to distract you while Alessia had an obligation you couldn’t accompany her on. 

The seahorse tank was just inside the entrance to the building, small and lit with a variety of colorful LEDs. It never failed to catch your attention, and you could/would stand in front of it for hours if Leah let you, listening to her read off the information plaque several times. 

She would usually let you, but she spotted a school group bustling through the coral-shaped entranceway. She didn’t fancy being shoved aside by a bunch of screaming schoolchildren, and she knew you wouldn’t either. 

You didn’t enjoy crowds unless there was a barrier between you and them. 

You dragged your eyes away from the tank to meet hers, your head tilting as you squeezed Squirt more tightly to you.“Turtle?”

“And the turtles,” Leah agreed, catching your hand. “We can’t go through without seeing Rocky, Bella, and Culver now can we,”

You nodded seriously at the names of your favorite turtles, holding her hand tightly as she guided you past the seahorses and to the next tank. 

It was smaller, filled with 20 little fish milling about, their scales glinting off of the artificial light in the tank. 

“Rainbow fish?” You asked, looking up at Leah for confirmation. 

Leah squinted at the familiar plaque. “It says that these guys are Flame Angelfishes. They come from Hawaii, and they like to hang out on coral reefs,”

You frowned, turning back to the tanks as one of the smaller fish swam by. 

You knew they weren’t called rainbowfishes, but you still asked Leah each time, hoping for a different answer. 

“No rainbow fish?” You pouted, leaning closer to the tank, but not touching it. 

You knew it was important not to bang on the glass so you didn’t scare the fish. They wouldn’t be your friend if you scared them. 

“We can call it a rainbow fish,” Leah said, squatting down next to you. “I don’t think they’ll mind,”

You made a low sound, your fingers creeping their way past your lips. 

“Hey, none of that,” She scolded gently, pulling your fingers from your mouth. “We don’t know where those little fingers have been,”

It was a bad habit her and your mama were fighting hard to break, how everything from your fingers to your shirt collars ended up in your mouth. 

“Does rainbow fish give out his scales?” You asked, looking away from the tank to briefly meet her eyes. 

“Hmm,” Leah hummed at the familiar question, glancing back at the little fish curiously swimming in front of you. “I think they would share their scales if one of their needed friends needed one,”

“Like you give out your scales?” You asked, your eyes never leaving the tank. 

Leah frowned. “What do you mean bug?”

“You’re mama’s Rainbowfish,” You said earnestly, turning away from the fish to meet Leah’s eyes again. 

“I’m your rainbow fish too,” She said with a very soft smile, running her hand through your messy curls. 

You nodded, as though her words confirmed something for you. What, Leah wasn’t entirely sure. 

Several fish swam by, and you watched in wonder as they did circles around each other, and Leah felt herself fall a little more in love with you. 

In the beginning, she hadn’t been entirely sure how things would go when Alessia warned her that you two were a package deal. She always wanted kids, but she didn’t know if she was mother material now. 

Then she met you, and you wrapped your little hand around her finger and she knew you had her hooked. 

Now, she couldn’t imagine her life without you, or Alessia. She treasured getting to see your excitement and wonder at simple things, like fish swimming circles around a tank. 

She would stand here all day if that’s what you wanted. 

You did for a long second before you looked back up at her. “Turtles?”

She smiled down at you. “Yep, let’s go see the turtles,” 

You looked back at the tank, waving to the fish. 

One of the little fish swam across the face of the tank as though he was waving goodbye to you. 

You waved back at him, and Leah refrained from telling you that he probably didn’t understand what bye-bye rainbow fish meant. 

You took Leah’s hand and let her lead you deeper into the aquarium. 

********

Leah could tell you were getting tired as you finally made it all the way through the shark tunnel. Your little legs were dragging, and your fingers kept trying to find their way past your lips with increasing frequency. 

You had skipped your nap, and she knew you had a limited amount of time before you got grumpy, even if you were at one of your favorite places. It was always a balance of letting you experience the things you wanted and keeping you from getting overtired. 

“How about we see the rays and then go get some lunch?” She asked you, wiggling your hand. 

“Otay,” You mumbled, leaning into Leah and letting her pull you through the shark-shaped archway and into one of your favorite parts of the aquarium, the stingray touch tank. 

“Hello miss Y/n!” The peppy blonde worker smiled widely at you as soon as you rounded the corner and sent a wave to Leah. 

The two of you came here often enough that she knew you quite well. 

You sent her a small wave, making sure Squirt didn’t slip from under your arm. “Ello Kara,”

“Do you want to feed the stingrays today?” She asked you, gesturing towards the touch tank that you always visited. “Rocky and Dibs are in a very friendly mood,”

She knew you well enough to know that there were days when you liked to pet the rays and ones when you just wanted to watch. 

You perked up, nodding excitedly, turning to Leah and holding out your stuffed turtle. “Mommy, hold squirt so he no get wet?”

Leah blinked at you, making no move to take the turtle. “Say that again my darling?”

“You hold Squirt so I feed Rocky and Dibs?” You repeated, holding out the blue and green stuffed turtle. 

Leah blinked again and squatted in front of you, bringing her hands up to cup your jaw. 

“No bug, what did you call me?” She asked, her thumbs brushing your cheeks softly. 

“Mommy,” You said, your eyebrows furrowing. “Mama said be ok cause you my Rainbow fish,”

Leah hummed. 

Of course, you had talked it over with Alessia first. She would have been more surprised if you hadn’t. 

“It’s very ok,” She assured you, swallowing away the lump in her throat, and pulling you close so she could kiss your forehead. “I’m your Mummy and your rainbow fish,”

You tolerated her lips against your hairline for a very long second before you pulled away, holding your turtle out for her. “Hold squirt so he no get wet?”

It amazed her how… casual you were about all of this. How you said it as if it just made sense. She swallowed down the swelling in her chest, knowing you wouldn’t react well if she started crying, even if the tears were happy. 

“Sure, bug,” She smiled gently at you, taking the offered toy and holding him close as she released you. “Do you need help washing your hands?”

You shook your little head, turning back towards the blonde Stingray keeper. “No, Kara help me,”

She watched you as you toddled towards the sink, immediately talking to Kara about how the Rays were doing. 

She would watch over you forever. 

She was your Mum and your Rainbow fish.

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter eleven | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus Snow, Dean Highbottom, Canon typical violence

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 AND WE NOW HAVE THE 10TH HUNGER GAMES <3

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 double update bitches/my love

Beta read by ☀️ @nowitsmissing

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Coriolanus enters the Capitol News Studio. He had given the poison to Lucy Gray, the songbird showed little hesitation to accept it. After all, she had good survival instincts. The top seven mentors had interviews held. You were one of them, but you weren't present yet. Coriolanus could hope that you'll come on time, otherwise your slot will be given to someone else.

Coriolanus is called up on stage, and he's grateful that Lucy Gray had sung in hers. It gave him fresh material. He talks about her family, the Covey, and how could they be Capitol unfortunately detained in twelve with horrible luck. He even ropes Lucky Flickerman into it, who agrees.

Soon, your turn comes but you're nowhere to be found. So it was given to someone else. He frowns, thinking the worst. You were fine in the morning, what happened? Was it because of the expired bread? Coriolanus hoped that he wasn't the reason for your delay.

The interviews are over, still no you in sight, the mentors head back to the Academy in vans. Coriolanus prepares to enter the Auditorium when Dean Highbottom stops him,

“You know that friend of yours from Two? The emotional one?” Dean Highbottom asked him.

“Sejanus Plinth,” said Coriolanus. Not that they were friends, but that wasn’t any of Dean Highbottom’s business.

“You might want to find him a seat near the door.” Then Dean Highbottom takes his infamous morphine, and leaves Coriolanus wondering. He finds a seat in the mentor section. The seats on either side of him are empty. One is reserved for you and another for Sejanus Plinth.

“Sejanus!” He yells as he notices the Plinth boy. Coryo calls him over and lets him sit. He wore the same yellow mentor badge, along with the communicuff. Sejanus greets him, his voice rough, and sits down. Unlike usual, he wasn't yapping off about the games. Which was a surprise that he welcomed.

Where were you?

His mind went back to the morning when he pulled back from the kiss; when you had pulled back from the kiss. Did he scare you off? Were you skipping the games? He wondered if that was even allowed. His fingers traveled on his wrist, lining up the scar that seemed to be smaller than before. His eyebrows furrow as he notices the change, the scar seems smaller but thicker, and the skin rises a bit more.

He blinks, and wonders if he's seeing it wrong. But there was a change, and he had no idea what was happening to his soulmate scar. He had never heard of scars healing like this before, especially eight years later. Seems like a fever dream.

You rush in, and Coriolanus sees you taking your badge and communicuff. He sees you checking the device out that will help you to send water and food to your fellow tribute. He wondered briefly if Jessup had any sponsors at all. He knew Lucy Gray had the highest. If she played well, he wouldn't certainly spare no expense either.

You looked around in the auditorium, looking lost. Coriolanus doesn't call for you. He wants you to find him. Snow wants to know if your eyes always look for him, just the way he does. Coriolanus bit his lower lip to stop the grin from spreading on his face when your eyes met his and your shoulders visibly relaxed.

You walked towards the free seat and sat down beside Coriolanus. You sighed, letting your hand fall on the side of the chair. Coriolanus doesn't think before he does the same, and your hand touches his. He clenched his jaw wondering if he should go for it.

Everyone would be looking at the screens, not where Coriolanus placed his hand after all. He decided to fuck it. He holds your hand, his grip getting tighter and borderline painful when you try to pull away. His eyes looked straight at the numerous screens, but he leaned on your side to whisper, “You missed your interview.”

“I am aware,” you whispered back, rudely. You tried to pull your hand again, but Snow didn't let you. His blunt nails begin to dig into your skin to keep his grip. He doesn't miss your wince, but he doesn't feel guilty. You should stop trying to pull away, let him hold you. It's his right.

You stopped trying to get out of his grasp, and Coriolanus loosened the grip so it hurt less. “What's wrong?” He asked, his voice filled with faux worry. Coriolanus couldn't believe your behavior right now, unruly unlike a Capitol citizen but befitting of a district. He couldn't guess what had happened in the short period you were left alone.

“Nothing, Coryo,” you hissed back. Your head turns to him, your eyes burning with annoyance. “Can you please shut the fuck up?” Coriolanus flinched in shock, his eyes widening, filling up with rage from your sudden unnecessary disrespect. He let go of your hand but this time you refused to let go. Your nails dig into his skin, forming crescent marks on his knuckles the same way he did yours.

Coriolanus doesn't reply. He doesn't try to ask either. His eyes hardened in anger he couldn't release right now. Though he hated to admit that your hand holding his, helped him stay tether to the reality. It helped not to lose sight and he put on a blank, cold face. His eyes turned into ice instead of the fire he was feeling inside.

Then Flickerman calls attention to all of the mentors. Telling them to smile, and to go away when their tribute dies. Coriolanus listened to the man drawl until it was finally time. Everyone's attention was on the screen. He pulled your hand towards his lips to press a kiss when he knew nobody would be looking. Consider it his way of taking good luck as he couldn't kiss his scar right now.

“Let the 10th annual Hunger Games begin!”

The fourteen tributes who remained on his list were positioned in a large circle, awaiting the opening gong. No one paid any attention to them, or to the new wreckage from the bombing that littered the field, or to the weapons strewn on the dusty ground, or to the flag of Panem strung from the stands, adding an unprecedented decorative touch to the arena.

All eyes moved with the camera, riveted as it slowly zoomed into the pair of steel poles not far from the main entrance of the arena. They were twenty feet high, joined by a crossbeam of similar length. At the center of the structure, Marcus hung from manacled wrists, so battered and bloody that at first Coriolanus thought they were displaying his corpse. Then Marcus’s swollen lips began to move, showing his broken teeth and leaving little doubt he was still alive.

Coriolanus could feel Sejanus shaking with rage, and he had just turned to put a quieting hand on him when the boy sprang from his seat and ran forward. The mentor section had five empty chairs in the front reserved for their missing classmates. Sejanus grabbed the one on the corner and hurled it toward the screen, smashing it into the image of Marcus’s ravaged face. “Monsters!” he screamed. “You’re all monsters here!” Then he dashed back down the aisle and out the main entrance to the hall. No one moved a muscle to stop him. Except you.

You tried to stand up, only for Coriolanus to pull you down on your seat. Looking at you harshly with a glare. He couldn't have two people from the districts leave, one was openly against the games but you weren't. You couldn't risk the symbolism that will mean if you go after Sejanus now. It would put too much at risk. Especially with Dr. Gauls' attention on both of you. Coriolanus wouldn't allow you to sabotage yourself (and him) over a silly friendship.

“Coryo-”

“Stay seated,” he instructed, looking back at the screen, back at the near-death body of Marcus. “The games have begun.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[centrally-unplanned]

The thing about morality is that it only matters when it's real. Discussions of rules or norms for what is right or wrong are almost always, at some level, illusions, approximating reality and guiding decisions in an uncertain world - which does not make them useless, just contextual. Profaning god in your bedroom can never be “wrong” - there is no one to hear you, no one to be hurt by it. You can only show something is really wrong from the intentions of the actions and their results.

So with that out of the way, lets talk about Knives Chau - and specifically, how the comic vs the anime handled that part of the story.

Scott Pilgrim vs The Reification of Dating a High Schooler

There is an extremely pervasive meme in Scott Pilgrim discourse that our titular Scott is a scumbag. Our returning whipping boy the Kotaku article loves this idea, describing Scott’s “detestable behavior” and wondering “was it too subtle the first time about Scott being an absolute shitbag?”. There is this viral headline screenshot from an interview floating around right now riding that same line:

Which is, of course, pretty much false. Its up to you in the end, “shitbag” is a subjective description, but the story just isn’t about events that would be described that way. Its the story of a guy getting over an awful ex, hurting some people, then meeting a new person, and realizing step-by-step what it takes to be their partner and levelling up as a person each time he does. He starts off broken, and Ramona of course is just as broken - getting better is their mutual arc. And its fundamentally about relationship drama - those stakes don’t make you a scumbag lol, just clueless, unless you are terminally online and don’t know what real stakes are.

I will let O’Malley get the last word in with his quote the writer of that interview is hilariously trying to torture into his headline:

There's a bit of, like, young people see Scott Pilgrim a certain way, and, you know, there's a lot of, like, 18-19-year-old fans that are really judgmental of the character. They're like, "Oh, he's a bad person. I would never do that." But I always tell them, like, get back to me when you're 25 or 30, tell me how your 20s went. Were you a bad person? Everyone has to make choices and do things in life that maybe they're not going to be proud of later.

Scott is a scumbag the way everyone is - you yourself will likely commit similar sins; that at least seems to be the authorial intent, and I agree with it.

So how does dating Knives Chau slot into this?

Despite the memes, age, in fact, is just a number - two consenting people dating does not a sin make. The reason dating underage people is bad is because of its consequences, not the categorical imperative. So what are the consequences of dating Knives Chau in the comic?

Knives is, as a consequence of dating a guy who is simply via his age able to appear so much cooler than her peers to her, absolutely obsessed with Scott. She worships his band:

She starts aping his taste in music and interests; she slots herself into his circle of friends, who don’t relate to her, even after their breakup (often drinking her way through it):

She totally spirals after he cheats on her and leaves her, blaming everyone but him; she is wounded and hurt for months, a year, over a relationship that lasted weeks:

Knives Chau is a literal poster child for why you should not date a high schooler. She is, at every turn, emotionally not ready to date someone who is not at her own level of social development, and is deeply affected by it. It is, sometimes, played for laughs - that is the nature of the comic, everything is played for laughs, but I would have given it a bit more dramatic space myself - but over the course of the story Scott himself realizes how much of an ass he was to her, and how he didn’t take what happened seriously.

The reason I view this with charity is what Scott did to lead to this - he met a cute girl on the bus! He was deeply hurt and kind of numb in life, and found someone who was safe and easy to talk to. He never attempts to kiss her (she starts trying to kiss him which he repeatedly rejects) they don’t even hold hands, and it lasted a few weeks. He knew deep down, pretty much immediately, it was fake:

Then he met an actual person he liked, and with some browbeating from Wallace agreed to break up with her, but chickened out for a day. Then the next day he decides to break up with her, and she drops the L bomb before he can, so he instantly ends it. It is really awkward for everyone involved.

Pushing off an awkward and uncomfortable conversation resulting from a dumb decision you made on a whim for a week - god I relate to that, that’s everyone! If you think it isn’t you I think you're lying. Its why this relationship is so interesting in the comic - Scott is always one step removed from it, putting it at abeyance, and the fact that something so minor to him is so destructive to her is a really good portrait of how these kinds of things happen. Its so easy to hurt someone when you don’t even know what the stakes are, and when its coming not from malice, but from weakness. Its a very good portrayal of a bad relationship because its bad in a relatable way, even if as a story is a bit more dramatic than is typical. And its a great portrayal of how fraught age gaps can be - this bad relationship is part of what makes the comic a good story.

But its 2023, we don’t give a shit about any of that anymore!

O’Malley in the same interview discusses the cultural shift around these kind of relationships:

I felt like in this day and age, I had to provide clarity on that [relationship]. Because when I wrote the first books, I took it for granted that people would understand that dating a high schooler was a bad thing. But on the internet, in this day and age, people are like, "He's dating a high schooler. That's terrible!" Like, that's pretty much what I say on page 1 of the book. But I try to spell it out a little bit more this time.

He isn’t telling the full story though - it was bad in 2004, but not bad the way it is today. Its dubiousness was mitigated by its frequency; people were doing this kind of shit all the time. Scott Pilgrim is a bass guitarist in an indie band; fucking groupies is like built into the cover charge. Half the problem Scott has in dating Knives is that she is the wrong kind of 17-year-old - had Scott met her at 1 am in the aftermath of a Born Ruffian’s concert at the Whippet Lounge knocking down shots off the back of her fake ID, no one would have even noticed. Hell, no one does notice; there is someone who actually makes out with a drunk 17-year-old Knives Chau in the comic Scott Pilgrim, and isn’t Scott Pilgrim:

No one cares about Kim’s inebriated petting session here; that is 10% because she is a Girl and Girls Can’t Be Predators, 40% because she isn’t the main character, and 50% because Kim Pine’s dating history is not a useful proxy battleground for GamerGate-adjacent nerd culture wars in ~2014; but that is road that goes directly to hell, so let's veer back.

The point, of course, is that in 2004 this is a crime flecked with normality, something your friend would do and you would maybe just cock an eyebrow at:

Its not that in discourse today - it is radically more condemned. It is not a contextual sin, but an original sin. It underwent a process I am calling reification - where it goes from being just a shifting descriptor of reality, to a thing in itself, with a defined (reified) meaning. And to be clear, that is in a lot ways on net a good thing? The reality is that, despite everyone’s protestations, there are today thousands of 17-year-olds taking the L line out to a gig at the Brooklyn Steel and going down on a 25-year-old guy they just met in a back alley off Frost St who swears he’s a “drummer in a sick new band” that played here “just last week”, he promises, and she is having a great time, bragging to her friends about how hot his tattoo was, and then shipping herself off to Cornell next year to start on her pre-med track with barely a memory. But for every dozen of those, there is at least one person who is deeply, deeply hurt, a Knives Chau who never deserved this. The rest can have a slightly worse time, its probably worth it.

That does not make it a categorical imperative, though - the reification has masked that truth. The crime comes from the context - those other girls aren’t victims, they would laugh at you for suggesting they were. But in 2023, Scott Pilgrim Takes Off is no longer concerned with context. It is telling you, right to your face, that Scott is a bad dude. Over and over and over - jokes from the Evil League about “wow, I thought we were evil”, its not subtle.

Yet meanwhile, Knives Chau is, like, fine? She dates Scott, is totally into him, and then literally in the middle of his funeral forgets about him for Envy crashing it:

Picks up the bass and has yuri-inflected playtime with Kim the literal next day:

And less than a week later is pitching an off-broadway musical adaption of Scott’s life to a billionaire Matthew Patel - I can’t explain that okay, I’m as confused as you are.

She is mad at Scott, sure, but she is over it in a matter of days. Hell, notice how she was already a fan of the Clash at Demonhead now? There is no scene of Scott introducing her to his kind of music. He didn’t change her. By the end she is a member of his band and they are totally chill:

This is, again, about a week or two later.

Knives is not an important character in this show, way less than in the original, this is no grand sin. But I still find it very interesting: O’Malley is wrong. He “spells it out” way less in this version when it comes to the actual consequences of Scott’s actions. Everyone’s verbal condemnations are substitutes to replace the real damage his actions dealt in the comic. Scott is a better person this time, in a world that has universally agreed he is worse (still not a good move ofc). Even Scott’s moment of apology to Knives about their dating is so tepid its almost Straussian:

Its ‘frowned upon’…which is not the same thing as saying it was wrong! I don’t think this is intentional, its just funny, but its a nice capstone nevertheless.

And it had to be this way, not just for media in general, but for Scott Pilgrim in particular. Not only are sexual crimes far more reified today, but Scott Pilgrim’s sin of dating a high schooler is reified as well - its the first piece of discourse everyone encounters about it. Its the ur-debate of the franchise. The idea of actively engaging on this point, and digging deeper into it…its too hot, too controversial. Way better to shy away from it, disown it. The discourse wrote this part of the script over the course of a decade; its not something the creatives had any say in.

Honestly they should have just gone all the way - just make Knives 19. Then how tepid it is wouldn’t be a distraction anymore. Scott can just be an asshole for cheating on her, that would work fine. If you aren’t going to commit to the reality of these things, you shouldn’t bother with it at all.

[oneforthemunny]

something new |rockstar!eddie munson x nepobaby!reader|

prompt: eddie takes you to your first drive-in movie during the fall.

still on my fall shit and not sorry about it lol. had to do one for my faves. timeline wise- established dating but not yet engaged, still secret. very fluffy and sweet and i'm so in love with them. mentions to reader's shitty parents but the sweetest fluff <3

“Should I get in the back?” You chewed on your manicured nail, ducking lower and lower into the seat of the old van, hoping the headlights from the car behind you wouldn’t give you away- reveal your little secret. 

“What?” Eddie’s brows pinched in confusion. 

“No, don’t do that. They’ll think we’re tryna sneak people in. They won’t let us in. Trust me.” He snorted lightly. “Used to do that all the time. If this old guy’s still workin’ up here, he’ll definitely remember me. Think I’m still up to no good.” 

“You are still up to no good.” You grinned. 

“Yeah? You think so?” Eddie’s lips curled in a half smirk, the vans breaks groaning as he let off them, rolling towards the ticket booth. “Thought I was being pretty good takin’ you here. Can’t believe you’ve never been to a drive-in, baby.” He cranked the window down, the cool autumn air filling the space quickly. 

“You really think Victor and Tana would take me to a drive-in?” You scoffed lightly, ignoring the bitter pang of hurt in your heart at the mention of your parents, the crueling reminder of a less than happy childhood. 

“C’mon, I didn’t have any parents around and I still went.” Eddie leaned his head back against the seat, looking over at you with lidded eyes. “Didn’t even go to South Bay Six? Even I’ve been there.” 

“Oh?” You scoffed, brows lifting in a snarl of disgust. “Yeah? What girl did you go there with, Ed? Claudia?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I took a girl there? Used to come here by myself all the time.” Eddie threw a hand out towards the Hawkins drive-in, busier than usual for ‘Slasher Saturday’. 

Eddie had told you about it, pillow talking while you shared a cigarette, chatted about Halloween and swapped bittersweet childhood memories. He’d told you about the Hawkins’ drive-in, the Slasher Saturdays they always did in October. 

“I’ve always wanted to go to a drive-in.” You had hummed, stretching against the cool silk sheets with a content sigh. “Always thought it was so romantic.” 

Eddie blinked at you, the cigarette burning between his fingers. “You’ve never been before? Never? To a drive-in?” You had shook your head, that sheepish look took over your features, shy and sweet and always had Eddie’s heart soaring. He flew you out the next morning to Indiana. 

Your chest filled with warm heat at the thought, swelling with love that still felt surreal. 

The old man at the window definitely recognized Eddie, but not as the lead of Corroded Coffin. Oh no, as the same curly haired kid that had been there before, that had caused trouble there before. “You two enjoy the show,” The old man gruffed, glaring at Eddie with disdain. “And make sure you keep your clothes on. I’d hate to have to throw you out again.” He grunted, leaving Eddie barking out a laugh as he pulled away. 

“Thought you came here alone?” You scoffed, feigning annoyance. “So you have brought girls here?” 

“I didn’t say I came alone here all the time.” Eddie grinned, eyes lighting up in that mischievous way that had your stomach flipping with excitement. “But, don’t worry about it, alright? You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever brought here.” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you bit back a grin. His hand found your thigh, squeezing it lightly as he backed into a park easily. A secluded spot in the back, not the best for the showing, but away from the potential wandering eyes who might see the two of you. Who might tip off the paparazzi and ruin your secret oasis of a relationship with Eddie. 

An hour and six blankets later, Eddie had you pinned to the floor of the van, hips slotted over yours, lips hungrily pulling at yours. A wonderfully sloppy makeout that felt juvenile and thrilling all at once. 

“Part of the experience,” Eddie muttered, halfway through the opening scene, his hand sliding over your shoulders pulling you close to him. 

Your clothes were still on, a rarity for the both of you, your jean clad legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer and closer into you. Hips rockings against each other, the slightest bit of friction that had you groaning into this kiss, muffled by the final girl screams that echoed throughout the lot. 

“This what you wanted?” Eddie whispered, lips kiss bitten and bruised from yours, his nose sliding over yours. “Everything you thought it would be?” 

“Yeah,” You sighed airily, a giggle slipping from your lips. “Can see why you like them so much. It’s pretty fun.” Your hands balled and grabbed at the material of his shirt, pulling him back to you, lips back on yours. 

The rough knock on the window came twenty minutes later, the same man from the ticket box barking at the two of you to “knock it off” and “grow up”. You and Eddie held your giggles until he walked off, snickering into each other like school girls. 

“Guess we better knock it off.” Eddie muttered, craning his neck to look out the back window. “We can finish later. It’s about to get to the good part anyways.” 

You snorted lightly, settling against his shoulder under the blankets. “Is this what you did? Makeout until the good part came on?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie grinned, chin ducking down to look at you. “I mean, these kinda movies always start out slow anyways. Gotta do something until it’s the good part.” 

You giggled, rolling your eyes, leaning into his shoulder. Eddie reached into the console behind him, pulling out a bag of candy corn, tearing it open with his teeth. You cringed at the handful he ate, lips curled in disgust. 

“What? Best fuckin’ Halloween candy.” Eddie shrugged through a mouthful. “You ever had any?”

“No,” You shook your head. “It just… I don’t know about corn flavored candy, that sounds disgusting.” 

Eddie laughed, nearly choking on the colorful candy. “Baby, are you serious?” He grinned lightly at you. “It’s not corn flavored. It’s just… I don’t even know, I think it’s just sugar. It just looks like corn. Try some.” He tilted the bag towards you, snickering at your snarled lip. 

You hesitated, looking from the bag back to him. “Are you lying to me?” 

“No, promise.” Eddie squeezed your hip lightly, affectionately rubbing the bare skin above your jeans. “Just try one.” 

You reached in the plastic bag, plucking out the candy corn carefully, eyeing it skeptically before placing it in your mouth. Sugar was a good way to describe it, because you were sure it was pure sugar. You chewed it carefully, swallowing the chewy candy. 

“How was it?” Eddie grinned, eyes lit with excitement. 

“Very sweet.” You muttered. “Didn't taste like corn.” 

Eddie howled in laughter, head tipped back against the cracked seats, shaking the van with his laughs. You rolled your eyes, settling back into the blankets, pulling them around you to stop from the frigid chill of the night, the glow from the screen cast over your features. Eddie thought you looked positively angelic. Hollywood’s princess, here in Hawkins, embracing the culture, embracing a part of him. 

He could barely focus on the movie, his favorite part of the film, mind racing with words and feelings of affection that had his heart skipping. Eddie hoped you couldn’t feel it. He’d take you to a pumpkin patch, a real one tomorrow, to do a hayride and maze and all the cheesy activities people did in the fall- all the ones you had never got to do. 

Eddie called his assistant early the next morning, before you were awake, when the sun had just barely begun to rise over Lover’s Lake. Cigarette and coffee in hand, he sat in the quiet of the fall morning, speaking softly into the receiver. 

When you both returned to Los Angeles the following Thursday, Eddie left you early Friday morning, still jet lagged and exhausted from the week, and drove an hour and a half to the jewelers. He had no doubt in his mind, after that trip, that he wanted that forever. Wanted it forever, with you, and he decided right then and there- at the drive in, that he’d spend forever with you. 

[lixopoo]

Hello! I really like your posts, in particular the Belle one. Can you please do a zzz Nicole x S/O who left the Cunning Hares? Sorry if it’s long but I got in the zone. Like the S/O was a cofounder but left due to disagreements to how the agency is ran. Cue to Anby and Billy after a while of the agency being mismanaged tries to get you back in. You tried to doing one but it didn’t work out as you need her all or nothing approach, but on the other hand she needs you to reel her in. They manage to do it by tricking you two by making y’all think there was going to be a hangout but by the meet up time there’s only you two. There’s arguing but it’s let out accidentally that you like each other. After that it’s more of there being a talk to let things out what you two are and work it out as the agency you both created is both of yours baby in the end of the day.

✶ Nicole Demara dating headcanons w backstory!

⇢ Nicole Demara x gn!reader ;

⇢ type - headcanons ;

⇢ tags - fluff , little bit angst(?) , kisses , hugs ;

⇢ thanks for request! i love Nicole so much, so im glad you ordered her but it seems to me that it turned out worse than i imagined, sorry!

⋆ You and Nicole were close even before the creation of the agency, from the orphanage, since you were also an orphan. You have always envied her cunning character and how easily any task is given to her, deep down I want to become the same.

⋆ Time passed, and one family was able to adopt you, thereby taking you from the orphanage, but it all happened so suddenly that you were unable to say goodbye to Nicole, thereby leaving her completely alone. You were very sad, as was she, but a year later, walking down the street, you saw her again.

⋆ She was incredibly happy to see you, but you are stronger, so you just almost knocked her off her feet with your hugs.

⋆ Hearing the story of how she was adopted by a rich family and then made a deal with them to hang around the streets of New Eridu, you were surprised, but immediately laughed, because Nicole, who was in the orphanage has not changed a bit.

⋆ After some time, her love for money and cunning only grew, so you decided to create your own agency to help the residents of New Eridu and earn a good income.

⋆ After joining the agency of Anby and Billy the Kid, your days only became more fun and interesting, but the fact that all the money Nicole earned was turning into a minus was very alarming to you. You turned a blind eye to this, because she was the initiator of the creation of the Sly Hares, which means her money... probably?

⋆ You tried to talk to her about this topic many times, but she only avoided the conversation, calling you cute nicknames to appease you.

⋆ After another conversation with Phaeton about the order, you learned about the debts that Nicole did not mention. This was the last straw, because spending the money that the four of you earned so easily is unacceptable.

⋆ You decided to have one last conversation with Nicole on this topic when you were alone, but the result was the same, which made you even angrier.

«I'm leaving Cunning Hares»

⋆ Trembling, Nicole turned around to look at you, but saw no one. You disappeared in the same way as you did at the shelter, leaving her alone again.

⋆ For the next week, Nicole was irritated and upset at the same time, not wanting to see you at all, even though it was obvious how much she missed you.

⋆ Anby and Billy were surprised by your unexpected departure, which made them very upset. They tried to find you and just talk, but, unfortunately, you were nowhere to be found.

⋆ You decided to do easy tasks on your own to earn money, so you spent all your time either in Hollow or in places they didn’t look into.

⋆ But you couldn’t hide for long, because while playing slot machines, you accidentally met Billy, who was hanging out there, and Anby was nearby.

⋆ They were incredibly happy to see you, almost pouncing and knocking you down. Billy bombarded you with questions, which you reluctantly answered, but told you the reason for leaving.

⋆ You hung out together for a little longer before breaking up and asking her not to tell Nicole that they saw you. After which Anby immediately had a plan in her head, which she immediately told Billy.

⋆ Two days later you met them again near the slot machines, but this time you had a little more fun, after which they suddenly invited you to a “farewell party” in your honor, mentioning that, of course, Nicole wouldn’t be there and the three of you would just have fun.

⋆ Although it seemed strange to you, you were not going to refuse them. You accepted their offer and waited for the next day.

⋆ Arriving at the meeting place - a newly opened cafe, you were surprised that it was so empty inside, but you went inside anyway and sat down at the nearest table, waiting for Billy and Anby, but imagine your surprise when you saw Nicole on the threshold.

⋆ You immediately jumped up from your chair and she noticed you. You just stared at each other for a minute before she looked away with a frown.

⋆ She wanted to run away, but something stopped her, just like you, because deep down you weren’t the least bit angry at each other, only at yourself.

⋆ Realizing that Enby and Billy had simply set you up, you both got a little angry, but you knew that they meant what was best, so you just sat down at the table in silence, starting a game of silence.

⋆ You were the first to start a conversation, again remembering how naively she was throwing away the agency’s money, without thinking about others. Of course, this angered her even more, because she didn’t want to talk about it. Slamming her hands on the table and standing up, she leaned over a little to be closer to you.

«I did this for the agency, don’t you understand?! You know how dear it is to me... As dear as you!»

⋆ You knew this very well, but you still had a strange feeling. You continued your little argument until she openly admitted her feelings, immediately realizing what she said and blushing.

⋆ You stared at her with your mouth open for a few seconds before you too blushed and looked away.

«I...»

«No! Just... I want you to come back!»

⋆ Her eyes became wet, and Nicole herself just wanted to run away. You smiled faintly, seeing the real Nicole was rare. Slowly standing up and walking over to her, you hugged her from the side, beginning to calm her down.

«I love you too»

��� A couple of minutes later, you were already sitting next to her, holding her hand, and talking casually. You decided to return back to the agency, but on the condition that you would manage the money, since you had more financial literacy.

⋆ She is possessive, so her hugs are tight and warm enough to make you feel safe. She will always make some kind of contact with you in public, whether it's holding your hand or kissing you.

⋆ She kisses you often, so your lips are always the same color as her lipstick. Her kisses are as possessive as her hugs, but light and full of love.

⋆ Despite even the small quarrels between you, she loves you and does not want you to leave her alone again.

actually i think this is my worst work because it was difficult for me...

[goodlucktai]

too well tangled

rise of the tmnt post-movie / canon divergent word count: 1k characters: disaster twins

this was my bonus piece for the digital @turtlestogetherzine !

title borrowed from atticus—“you will never be unloved by me / you are too well tangled in my soul”

read on ao3

x

So it turns out that sixteen minutes in the prison dimension is about six months outside it. Give or take. 

Donnie calls it a temporal differential. Leo’s third day back was spent being gently interrogated within an inch of his life. For every answer he gave, Donnie’s face got a little darker. 

He seems a lot older than the last time Leo saw him. Everyone does. They all look at Leo like he’ll disappear into thin air if they blink too many times. 

He expects it to wear off eventually. He’s only confined to the infirmary for a week and a half, and on bedrest for a week after that, but even a month later Raph and Mikey continue to stick to him like glue. 

“I’m okay,” Leo tells them, when his bad leg seizes up and he staggers on his way to the breakfast table and Mikey’s face crumples horribly. Raph just huffs and lifts Leo clean off his feet to carry him the rest of the way. Swallowing past the uncertain lump in his throat, Leo adds playfully, “I mean, I’m not one to complain about the all-star treatment, but—”

“Good,” Raph rumbles, “then don’t.”

“Sorry if we’re being annoying,” Mikey says with a brightness in his tone that doesn’t sit quite right. He’s said that like fifty times since Leo came back. “We just—we missed you, Lee.” 

And what is Leo supposed to say to that? 

“Annoying? Please,” he scoffs. “I’m the king of everything obnoxious. You couldn’t annoy me if you tried.”

When Raph lowers him into a seat, Leo lifts his arm in invitation for Mikey to scoot his chair up right next to his, and then wraps him up in a tight hug. Mikey slots into his side like he belongs there, and he does, he always will, but it’s just a bit different than Leo remembers. 

Mikey is still his little brother. But only by a few months now. Leo’s seventeenth birthday came and went without him. 

And a part of him—this nameless little part that lives in the back of his mind, that’s lived there ever since dad made him team leader and ripped the rug out from under his feet—thinks that’s why Donnie doesn’t know how to be around him anymore.

He’s a constant presence. He’s a solid pillar for Leo to lean against when his legs don’t want to hold him up. But they don’t know what to say to each other. That unspoken understanding, that twin thing—it’s gone. 

Or so Leo thinks. 

Big Mama is more of a weird estranged relative than a mortal enemy these days, but she’s an entrepreneur first, eccentric wine aunt second. When she gets a big business idea, all bets are off. Leo can kind of respect that. It’s really thrilling and a little fun trying to match wits with a criminal mastermind, like high-stakes 5D chess. 

But her invitations could use some work. Sending a bunch of burly yokai in Grand Nexus uniforms to intercept the turtles on their way to Run of the Mill for dinner is a scheme that could have used a bit more time on the workshop table. 

Immediately Leo’s brothers close ranks around him. He’s allowed to run around in his leg brace at this point, but he has, in no uncertain terms, NOT been cleared to fight. He can tell from the set of Raph and Mikey’s shoulders that they’re beyond ticked off, but he can’t read Donnie’s posture at all. 

It’s bad timing, but suddenly Leo is preoccupied with those dark little thoughts he’s been having recently. Maybe Donnie isn’t happy to have him around. It’s been a lot of extra work, right? Dealing with the prodigal brother’s physical therapy and night terrors aside, now Donnie can’t even pick up some pizza without having to play bodyguard. 

So Leo is distracted—sue him. He’s got a lot going on. When an owl guard grabs him by the arm, he’s not ready for it. The yank backwards causes him to stumble, bad knee bending underneath him. 

The guard seems to loom over him for a moment. The evening gloom of the alleyway and the lurid glow of a nearby neon sign makes Leo’s brain sprint right back to the prison dimension. A distressed chirp works its way out of him before he can fully reorient himself. Add that to his ever-growing list of Good Reasons To Fake His Own Death. 

Big Mama’s goon looks surprised by the sound, grip relenting on Leo’s arm immediately. He wouldn’t do that if he were here for villainous reasons. So Big Mama probably actually considers kidnapping via sudden ambush to be a halfway decent method of picking her nemeses-slash-nephews up for an evening visit. 

Leo only has a second to think, Okay, I can work with this, turning up the charm and pretending like he can’t still feel the aftershocks of panic, before he’s being yanked again. 

This time he’s pulled right in against Donnie’s side, a strong arm around his carapace. There’s a burst of light and warmth—bright purple and overheated electronics, he’d know his brother’s ninpo anywhere—and they’re surrounded by a gleaming, glowing arsenal. 

The owl guard didn’t have a chance in hell. Donnie still doesn’t really look at Leo, not once as Mikey and Raph rush over, not even on the empty-handed trek back home. 

But he sits next to Leo on the couch while Mikey enlists Raph and papa’s help with dinner since their pizza run failed. The bickering and Mikey’s cooking playlist create a familiar, comfortable backdrop where it swells out of the kitchen. Donnie’s shoulder knocks against Leo’s. It feels like how it used to. 

Before he can lose courage, Leo blurts, “The thing I miss most from before is being twins with you.”

As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back. This is more mortifying than all of those initial grueling physical therapy sessions combined. 

He’s scrambling for an escape route that isn’t just hobbling away as fast as he can, or portaling to the bottom of the ocean, when Donnie suddenly says, “Draxum said we hatched together. We’ve been together all our lives. You’re pulling our twin card just because I'm finally taller than you?”

Leo sputters. “By an inch!”

Donnie raises an eyebrow at him, waiting with uncharacteristic patience for Leo to catch up. Maybe that’s what he’s been doing this whole time. 

Eyes stinging, Leo slouches into Donnie’s side. The softshell matches him, his cheek coming to rest on the top of Leo’s head. It reminds Leo of hugging Mikey earlier that morning at the breakfast table. 

Leo still fits here. There’s a good chance he always will. 

“Guess this finally makes me the older twin, huh, Nardo?”

It surprises Leo into laughter, maybe the first big loud laugh to come tripping out of him since well before the invasion. Conversation in the kitchen grinds to a halt and Mikey and Raph come barreling out a second later all covered in flour, eager to catch him in the act, to get in on it. 

“Sorry, Tello,” Leo says, grinning, not very sorry at all. “Not in this lifetime.”

[stealingyourbones]

Tim Drake and Jason Todd are both halfas. They just don't know it for a while.

HI BONES I JUST WOKE UP FROM THIS DREAM AND HAD TO SHARE.

There's something recogonized between them, when Robin meets Red Hood in Titan's Tower. But it's a mystery to both of them what - especially Jason. There's no reason for the new Robin to reek of the Dead - not like him. 

The truth comes out a few years later, in hushed whispers of a desperate Tim Drake - something is happening that reminds him of something terrible: after the first week of truly being in the Robin suit, he has a gap in his memory of weeks. Okay a couple months, accurately.

He's hidden this well - the gap is after he'd taken a fairly serious injury, something that nevertheless had a relatively low recovery time. So Batman and Nightwing never noticed that it caused him to, technically, die. And like hell Tim would tell them that, especially then.

The thing is that few missing months.

Tim has put together what happened in those months; he'd always kept copious notes for himself. And Bruce and Dick shouldn't be bothered if he has a bit of amnesia.

After he "died" he was Robin - notes on his computer tell him what he did, notes in the Batcomputer fill him in on the cases. But the notes never refer to himself as Tim. And the tone and methods for what he did - well, they're like Tim's. Tim can follow all the logic in them. They just seem... off somehow. 

But there's no memory left to him, between that moment when his heart stopped in the Robin suit to a moment, months later, of waking up in the Medbay after Dick rescued him from the Drake household - targeted by a magic user with questionable morals who claims he was dead and wrong. 

So he was checked out by Constantine or Zatanna or someone and they confirmed that no, that's not the case and that's definitely Tim in the body.

Once they get there.

The thing is, the more Tim looked into it, the less he thinks that rogue magician was actually mistaken. He's a little faster now, a little stronger. Sometimes it's like he's invisible, or hanging just a little too long in the air on the grapple - but in the next moment, that's gone, and he's just Tim again. Human Tim.

So a couple years later when Jason shows up, and there's that Recognition - Dead to Dead - that he gets from no one else... the memories start filtering in. Now Tim has the memories of being - well - a ghost, in the Ghost Zone, desperately searching for a way back, a way home, filtering in.

Now for a couple years after that beatdown in Titan's Tower - a beatdown that should have left him truly dead, or healing for months longer - but his recovery time has always been faster since those missing months, especially in the minutes and hours right after the injuries, where they're easier to hide a bit. Now there's a threat to all the ghosts in Gotham, and Jason and Tim wind up in deep.

Hunted by the Guys in White.

And Jason is angry because maybe he's a weird undead reanimation of a corpse, but Tim sure isn't and these bastards aren't touching his little brother. And Tim is all like "So there's this thing that happened." and he's (falsely) convinced that if Jason just left him Jason would be okay and the GIW would stop hunting them.

And Jason is gobsmacked - and smacked with memories. Memories he didn't... really have before, not through the Lazarus haze. Not really. Memories of being Tim.

And then the Dates slot together in his head and oh shit oh shit oh shit.

The day Tim died and something possessed him? Was the day Jason crawled out of his grave and was found, catatonic, on the streets.

And the day Tim regained control of his body.

Was the day Jason was shoved into the Lazarus Pit.

Fuck. He hurt his baby brother more than he ever realized. Fuck.

(They eventually figure out, maybe with a bit of help after they rescue some more experienced ghosts from the assholes in white, that Tim... really would have died fully that day, had Jason's ghost not possessed his body, bringing it back to life, heart beating and lungs breathing. And he kept it breathing until Tim was called back to it. And the effort Jason put into that - breathing and beating and keeping that living spark alive - was the jump Jason's own body needed to truly wake up from his grave.)

Yeah so anyway they both say to the GIW: no you don't not MY fucking BROTHER you don't. And so do all the other Bats. 

And the GIW is fucked.

[dollwritesarchive]

one of my favorite headcanons for dio is that he doesn't allow his darling to wear panties. maybe even forbids it. he just loves easy access <3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, edging, fingering, little bit of degradation/humiliation because dio is and always will be a big meanie, almost blade play ( his sharp ass nails ), suggested past abuse / sexual conditioning ( from dio ), orgasm denial / control, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ it’s always a good day when i get to write filth for the man, the myth, the legend: dio brando. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Do you even have the faintest clue why panties are forbidden, pet?” Dio asks, without looking up from the book resting against his crossed knees. “Page.”

with your fingers trembling, you obediently flip the page he’s done reading, shaking your head with a muffled and shy, “Nn— Nn.” with the hemming of your skirt stuffed into your mouth, you’re forced to bite down on it and keep it in place, high and out of the way of your vampire lord’s malignant digits.

the room was icy cold, but you weren’t trembling because of that. your thighs were shaking and sticky from his constant, torturously slow stroking of your sex. the length of his finger slotting between your weeping folds to probe, and you clench around air with a timid whimper. then, his thick knuckle grazed in circles, until your back arched and you tried to ride it. he would, then satisfied with your desperation to be stretched open, drag the sharpest point of his dagger-like, abysmal nail to tease your tender clit, threaten to cut into you.

your body wants to jerk back, escape his cruel taunting, but you were trained much better than that. you stood as still as you could, with your knees bent inwards against each other so that they don’t buckle, and watch his hand disappear between your legs as he tenderizes your sex, and then reappear a few moments later, sticky with your essence.

“No?” he teases, quirking a brow, but his crimson eyes stay locked on the page he’s currently reading, “Of course not. Why should you? After all, does a lapdog understand why it is that her master smacks her muzzle for yapping too loudly? Or does she simply accept that to yowl incessantly will get her popped in her pretty, little face?” there were memories behind his metaphor— the scariest moments of your time with Dio, when you disobeyed or annoyed him. you, too, had found your cheek stinging from his massive palm making contact, and had been banished from his lap to sleep on the cold, hard stone floor for your insolence.

“Page.”

you turn to the next. and you nod to show that you understand: it didn’t matter if you knew why Dio put the rules in place that he did for you, all that mattered was that you obeyed them.

“But, I will tell you.” two fingers worm their way to spread your netherlips apart, and you mewl and grip bundles of chiffon with your teeth, saliva soaking through the fabric. “I will never allow you to wear panties because of this right here. How easy it is to edge your soft, warm cunt when she’s completely exposed. Vulnerable.” when you shudder at the sordid way each syllable rolls off his sinful tongue, you catch a peek at his impish grin, before he jabs his middle finger against your entrance, with just enough force to feel your canal try to welcome the digit in, but he doesn’t slip it inside.

“L—Lord D—Dio!” you cry, the need to feel him take you all but overwhelming and you careen against his hand, hoping to coerce his fingers inside, “P—pleeeethhh…” you mumble, slurred, through your makeshift gag.

“I will have your little cunt drooling and tender for me whenever I please. Like she is right now, so hungry for cock that you can hardly stay upright. Milking air, wishing, begging for me to fuck it. You want me right now, don’t you? You want nothing more than for me to hollow you out? Break your body and your mind with my cock?”

you nod fervently, eyelids heavy with lust from his words alone, and your hips twitch and wriggle, whining for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

his eyes turn up from the page, and stare at your visage, nearly convulsing on his palm, before his tongue scrapes over a pearly fang, one signature dimple visible in the candlelight as he croons. “How much longer can you take this teasing, I wonder? Minutes? Hours?” you were shaking your head, hot tears in the corners of your eyes, but he kept going, as if he enjoyed how nervous the idea of being edged for hours made you. how frightened it made you. “Or perhaps, I leave you soiled and needy now, and play with you every day following, you’ll wake up, tied to my bed, with me between your legs, sucking on your sugary cunt— bringing you right to the very cusp of orgasm and then snatching it away from you no matter how you beg and cry for a release, until you’re so sensitive that the very sound of my voice in the dark alone forces you to cum.” your eyes roll back, defeated and moaning pathetically as he pulls his hand back from between your hips. your jaw hangs slack; the skirt of your dress sagging back into a skewed version of its place, and Dio shoves his dripping fingers into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste just how badly you want him, pushing them deep until you gurgle and choke on them. “The possibilities to torment you are endless and exciting, my love, and that’s why you will never wear panties again. Turn the Page.”

[doeeyeseddie]

Hello Pia, my darling, as promised here's 4 prompts for you to choose from as little or as many as you want: 1 (constant physical touch to feel safe -yes I am that predictable), 17 (holding hands when sitting next to each other -again, no comment please 😂), 29 (doing something silly to cheer them up) and/or 38 (craving their company after a stressful day).

Love you, mwah 💕

manon my love, thank you!! i tried to fit all four prompts in here, i hope you enjoy it 💕 (sorry i let a hamster die in here for dramatic purposes only)

[read on ao3]

“Come home with me?” Eddie asked, brushing a hand through Buck’s hair where he was sitting slumped on the bench in the locker room. 

Buck nodded under his hand, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment. “If that’s okay.”

“I asked you, Buck,” Eddie said gently. “I want you there with me.”

Buck blinked up at him, a half smile building on his face. “Okay.”

Eddie drove them home – they could get Buck’s jeep tomorrow, or maybe he’d want to stay at Eddie’s until their next shift, which would be more than fine with Eddie – and kept sneaking looks at Buck.

It had been a stressful shift, call after call with barely any downtime, and Buck had taken one of the calls hard, harder than the rest of them. They’d rescued a family from their burning home, all of them making it out with nothing worse than smoke inhalation – except for the daughter’s hamster.

Later, the mother had explained to them that he’d been old, slow, mostly blind, and probably hadn’t ever noticed that anything was wrong. But in the moment, there had only been a little girl, crying and screaming for her pet, and Buck hadn’t even hesitated to run back inside.

The look on his face when he’d come back out with the motionless rodent cradled in his hand and the little girl's cries had broken Eddie’s heart, and he knew that it had stayed on Buck’s mind for the rest of the shift.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a lot less tragic than many of the other calls they responded to on the daily, but Eddie knew that it wasn’t always that simple.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling to a stop at a red light and nudging Buck’s thigh with his knuckles. “You’re quiet.”

“I keep hearing her cry,” Buck said, a far away look in his eyes. “Maybe if I’d–”

“You did what you could,” Eddie interrupted him. “Buck. There was nothing any of us could have done. It was sad, but we saved that family, they’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Buck mumbled.

The light turned green and Eddie turned his main focus back to the road ahead of them. From the corner of his eye, he could see Buck fidgeting with his hands, pulling on a hangnail, and reached over to take his hand and pull it away. He just kept holding on, slotting their fingers together and driving one-handed. If the way Buck’s shoulders loosened and he stopped fidgeting was anything to go by, he didn’t mind.

“I guess I’m just sad,” Buck said quietly, his head leaning against the headrest but turned towards Eddie. “A– a little bit guilty, too, even though in my head I know that I didn’t do anything wrong. I just really wanted to find that hamster alive.”

“I know you did.” Eddie squeezed his hand. “One of my sister’s friends had, like, five hamsters in a row when we were kids. They never got very old. Not that that makes this okay, just– it’s not the end of the world, even for that little girl. Even if she probably felt like it today.”

Buck sighed. “Yeah. I’m just being dramatic.”

“You’re not being dramatic,” Eddie admonished him gently. “You care, you care really deeply, and I love that about you.”

Buck tightened his grip on his hand, and when Eddie glanced over at him, his eyes were big and shining. “I really love you, you know that?”

“I really love you, too,” Eddie said, trying to tamp down the undoubtedly goofy smile trying to spread across his face. It still thrilled him, hearing it, saying it, even weeks after the first time.

He pulled Buck’s hand towards him to press a kiss to his knuckles, then dropped his hand so he could pull into his street and then his driveway.

Once he’d parked, they both got out of the truck, but Buck waited for him by the hood, hand outstretched. Eddie took it and stepped close enough to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Come on, let’s go in,” he said, tugging Buck gently along with him to the front door. “Do you want to sleep immediately?”

“Soon,” Buck said, and he wasn’t letting go of Eddie’s hand, so Eddie did his best to unlock the door one-handed. “But I don’t think I’m ready to sleep yet.”

Eddie figured, because he could tell that Buck was still feeling a little down, and he knew that Buck preferred going to sleep after some distraction.

“So I don’t cry myself to sleep,” he’d told Eddie years ago, and it had been a joke, but Eddie knew that there was some truth in it.

So he was going to provide the distraction.

Buck was already in the clingy stage of tired, so it was easy to herd him into the kitchen, where Eddie made them both a cup of sleepytime tea, then turned the radio on at a low volume, all while Buck was staying close to him, their shoulders brushing with every movement.

The outro of a song he didn’t know was playing, but he immediately recognized the next song as it started, and smiled to himself.

“Hey,” he murmured, nudging Buck’s hand with his. “Dance with me?”

Buck tilted his head at him, adorably confused. “Now?”

“Yeah, why not?” Eddie asked, wrapping an arm around his middle and pulling him close.

The corner of Buck’s mouth tilted up in a small smile and he placed one hand in Eddie’s, turning Eddie’s hold into a traditional dancing pose. “Sure, I’ll dance with you.”

Eddie grinned and spun them away from the counter slowly, humming along to the song as they started swaying in the low kitchen light.

The song wasn’t a waltz but that was fine, because Eddie wasn’t even sure they could waltz if they wanted to, and he was happy enough to just hold Buck in his arms and turn in slow circles.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea,” Elvis crooned, “Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

“You are such a sap,” Buck murmured, but his eyes were sparkling.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too,” Eddie sang along in a low voice, “for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Buck pressed his face into Eddie’s neck and Eddie could feel his smile against the skin there, followed by a soft kiss.

They swayed until the song faded into a new one, and Buck snorted against Eddie’s neck before lifting his head. Earth, Wind & Fire asked them if they remembered the 21st night of September, and Buck and Eddie grinned at each other.

“Which station is this? Is it oldies day?”

Eddie laughed and loosened his hold so he could lead Buck into a spin. Since neither of them had any idea what they were doing, their arms tangled above Buck’s head, and Buck snorted again, letting it turn into a laugh this time.

“Wait, let’s try that again,” Eddie said, dropping his hands and holding them out for Buck to take. “How does this look so easy when other people do it?”

Buck was still giggling and took both of Eddie’s hands this time, lifting them in the air and trying to turn, with the same result as the first time.

“Oh, I give up,” he said, dropping their joined hands. “Maybe Bobby can show us.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said and tugged him closer again. Buck’s entire body had relaxed, and there was still a smile in the corner of his mouth and the crinkles by his eyes. He brushed the tip of his nose against Buck’s. “But for now – tea and then bed?”

Buck slung both of his arms around his neck and stepped close enough his toes met Eddie’s on the kitchen floor. His nose nudged back. “Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing.”

Eddie grinned and pushed one hand under Buck’s shirt at his back. “Did it work?”

“You know it did.” His lips were featherlight against Eddie’s, barely a kiss, curved up in a smile.

“Good,” Eddie said, muffled against his mouth, and pressed even closer.

They could reheat their tea later.

[toruro]

[21:03]

pairing. x. minghao x reader

genre. fluff, est relationship, request

w/c. 720+

it's late. it always is when your fiancé comes home, but since you've moved in together, you choose to embrace his passion and dedication to his work rather than mull over the hours you spend alone waiting for him.

you don't mind, really. sinking into the plush cushions of your sofa as some anime you've been binging, you feel at peace under the warm throw you're buried under. glancing at the clock, something warm settles in your stomach as you know minghao is going to pop in any second now.

your instinct never betray you, at least not when it comes to minghao. he pops in just around five minutes later, the apartment door lock clicking and quickly turning open before he closes it behind him, dropping his bag in the foyer as he makes his way to the kitchen.

"you're watching naruto without me?" he asks teasingly as he washes his hands. "i thought we agreed that'd we'd watch the war arc together."

"i know," you hum, opening your arms to stretch and scoot over as minghao walks over to you. you can tell from his posture and heavy steps that he is exhausted, and you pat the seat next to you invitingly so you can offer him whatever solace you can manage. "don't worry," you murmur as he settles in next to you curling to your side and resting his head on your lap, "i was just watching some fillers. you know i wouldn't watch the war arc without you."

minghao grins and rolls his eyes, tapping your hand as he looks up at you pleadingly. slowly, you nod and turn your attention back to the screen, bringing your hand up to slide your fingers through his hair. "which filler is this?"

"don't remember the name ... but it's the one where itachi fries his eggs with his sharingan," you tell him, brushing your fingers over the one spot behind his ears that you know has his eyes fluttering shit and low hums of content rip through his throat. "how was work?"

"tiring," he murmurs and you can feel the fatigue in his muscles, yes, but then he opens his eyes and they sparkle a little when he looks up at you. "but it was actually really great. soonyoung and i came up with this one part of the choreo and it goes really well with the song, and then lunch was fun because it was me and chan and shua and cheol, and what you packed me was great—which by the way, could you—"

"i'll make it again soon," you assure him, continuing to stroke his hair and nodding to encourage him to go on.

"i love you. but anyways, it was really good and then seungkwan brought in coffee and i usually don't drink the things he gets because i don't like them but this time he got some smoothie and it was really good i really liked it. how was your work?"

you smile fondly at him, taking in the information. "sounds like you had a blast. work was fun for me too—i finally finished up that stupid project that's been taking me ages," you mutter the last part with a bit of disdain, all the not so nice memories of working with your not so nice coworkers piling in. but as you look down at minghao, the thoughts wash away and you smile, glancing back up at the episode that's still playing.

"it's a good thing that's out of the way," he replies, following your line of vision and soon the two of you fall into watching the show together. it's only after a few passing moments that you feel him shift in your lap and tap at you hand.

you furrow your brows looking down at him, asking, "everything alright?"

all he responds with is his pleading eyes, but from above you catch the red tint that blossoms by his ears and cheeks. bashfully, he averts his gaze, quickly muttering under his breath, "can you—"

you smile and cradle his head close to your chest before letting go and nodding, slotting your hand back into his hair and gently stroking back and forth. he hums at the feeling, and as the vibrations reverberate through your body, you shudder because fuck, you're in love.

[meyousing]

𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘰𝘣

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵: shalnark x pro treasure hunter reader

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: you and shalnark are working together to retrieve a special artifact. but this is your mission, he doesn’t bother giving you details for the one he has decided to set out on.

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴:  yandere shalnark x reader, nsfw, deception, manipulation (use of his nen), shalnark taking advantage of y/n, all sexual nsfw will be under the cut. 

The guy that you were partnered with for your next heist was… alright. To you, he seemed a bit soft; too soft for this line of work, but he wouldn’t have made it this far if that was true. You were always willing to give the benefit of the doubt, and it helped that you felt indifferent about him so you could focus on the job and just let him do his thing while you did yours, differences aside. At the very least, his seeming soft also meant that he was nicer than most of those you worked with, which was a pleasant change of pace…despite your general lack of care for that kind of thing.

“So, what’s your nen ability?” Shalnark questioned you casually, his hands leaving his pockets in favour of resting them behind his head as the two of you strode through the large Casino. You glanced at him briefly, seeing how his eyes were focused on yours, though the way he scanned over the rest of you did not go unnoticed. You sighed internally at his lack of professionalism, as the goal was for you two not to seem like you were here together. At the very least, the loud music, noisy rolling of roulette wheels, and shrill dings of slot machines were doing their jobs sufficiently in keeping the attention of the attendees. As far as you could tell no eyes were on you at all. You were still hesitant to say too much to your new coworker, but creating unnecessary conflict would only make this more complicated. Whatever. 

“I’m a conjurer. I’ll just show you later” with a subtle roll of your eyes you crossed your arms over your chest, continuing on to your destination without another word of your own. Shalnark gave an upbeat “okay!” in response which you ignored, hardly noticing the newfound speed in your pace as you increasingly wished to get this heist done and over with. Shalnark had no problem keeping up with you, and upon swiftly rounding a corner, you had never been more relieved to see a door in your life once catching sight of the large metal one that was a few feet away. The start of your first objective. Finally. 

The two of you walked up silently, and you looked over your shoulder to ensure there were no prying eyes while Shalnark tried the doorknob.

“Locked.”

Releasing your sigh this time, you shooed him out of the way with your hand and moved that same one to the doorknob. Enabling Gyo, you felt around at every inch of the handle for a short while before pulling back. Glancing over at Shalnark and watching as he raised an eyebrow, you then placed your hands on your hips triumphantly. He kept gazing in confusion.

“That’s it?” he asked, the lack of any visual change in the environment likely making him doubt your abilities. 

With a suppressed smirk, you raised one hand from your hip, opening your palm and showcasing a key. One created with your nen, to fit perfectly into the slot of this particular door. The sight of his eyes and grin widening was satisfying, and since he had a positive reaction you decided to be nice back to him. Maybe teamwork with someone so insufferably cheerful wouldn’t be so bad after all, it was nice to be praised even in a way as small as a change in expression. 

“All yours” you grabbed his hand and placed the key in it, making a curt gesture to the door and stepping back to let him do the honours. He stood for a moment, his eyes swapping between looking at his own hand and the one you had just touched him with. When you cleared your throat after he was still for too long, he blinked and moved the key into the slot quickly, twisting it and gazing with childlike wonder as the door opened right after. 

“That’s amazing! No wonder boss chose you for this job” he grinned, tossing the key back which you caught with ease. You thanked him, shoving it in your pocket and following as he strode into the room and shut the door once you two were inside, perfectly undetected. “As much as I would love to see more of that, this is where we go our separate ways. For now, at least.” He let out a soft chuckle, both of you were already aware of what was next. You simply nodded your agreement, gazing around the dim space and the only other door, which was across from the first. 

Now comes the more crucial part of your mission. This room was only the start, but thankfully a key was no longer required from here on out. Disguised behind this casino was an opposing gang’s money laundering operation; more specifically, a gang that had started to clash with the Phantom Troupe as of late. You were commissioned by Chrollo Lucilfer to find a way inside and work with Shalnark to steal one of their most valuable items, just to send them a message. Your nen specifically was only useful for getting into restricted areas, so you were surprised that the troupe summoned you for one locked door, unsure of how a group of so many strong and abled people had such a hard time with it. Either way, the gig would pay well, so you decided to keep your ridicule to yourself and just get it done. 

The next few doors would be unlocked but guarded, which neither you nor Shalnark would be physically strong enough to deal with presently together or by yourselves (you doubted Shalnark’s inability to fight since the few times you had witnessed the combative side of Phantom Troupe in the past he held his own quite well, if not as one of the best). It was decided by Chrollo that Shalnark would use his nen on you and control your body when combat came into play since he explained that he would be able to do that with ease in comparison to just taking a guard head-on (“It’ll be like I’m playing a first-person fighter game!” he had said with immense anticipation). Of course, you were incredibly hesitant to allow a manipulator to take control of you, especially since you had already seen Shalnark’s strength and speed before, but that damned paycheque looked too handsome to question them further. So with audible reluctance, you agreed to the plan, hardly noticing how much more elated Shalnark looked once you did. 

“Ow! hey, you could’ve at least told me you were about to do it” you winced, fingers tightening in your hair as you held it up for him to press the first antennae into the skin on the back of your neck. 

“Sorry! Just trying to work quickly here, we’re already making such good time, after all. Would be a shame to slow down now.” He punctuated the last part of his sentence by sticking the second one in, catching you by surprise once more as you let your hair down and spun around to glare at him. He looked awfully smug, a soft smirk playing at his lips as you grit your teeth and squinted your eyes at him. That was enough for you to become royally pissed off, preparing to wind up your hand for a cute little slap to his cheek. But your hand wasn’t moving. Shalnark’s smirk widened at your visible show of confusion, the flinchy back-and-forth movements of your body showing him just how hard you were trying to raise your limb. 

“Just messing around with you, Y/N. No need for such hostility” he tilted his head with a full-on, sunny smile, lifting a hand to show you how he was keeping you in place with the push of a button on his cell. 

You just decided to drop it, knowing you’d gain nothing from inflicting harm on a coworker anyway. Moving on, you watched him release his thumb from the button and began walking over to the second door by your own merit, managing to open it just a crack, when a hand on your other wrist prevented you from going any further. 

“There’s something else I need you to do first.” 

Your eyelids drooped in displeasure, annoyed by his apparent want to work quickly but his current presentation of a hold-up. With puzzlement, you observed as he began walking backward, his eyes staying on you even as he crouched down to seat himself against the wall. Your body acted on its own (under Shalnark’s command) as you approached him shortly after he was situated, sauntering over slowly with an awkward swivel of your hips accompanying every step. Your cheeks began to burn in embarrassment, completely unsure but not liking the possible idea of where he was going with this. 

Your pain was audible when you dropped to your knees suddenly, cringing from the sharp pain before crawling closer to him on all fours. You could see his shoulders slumping as he made himself more comfortable, his hand that wasn’t controlling you with his phone moved to hover over his crotch. 

He was not being serious. There was no way.

“Shalnark” you spoke his name firmly, wanting to give him a look that expressed your disdain at what he was planning, and how awful he was for it. You stopped moving when your hands landed in front of him, dangerously close to his own which began stroking himself idly as you inched closer. You forced your eyes down to watch as his head knocked back against the wall before he reached to pull his cock out of his pants, continuing on with stroking it ever so casually, stifling a sound of pleasure as he did. You, on the other hand, were mortified, trying to use everything inside of you to tear away from his control and run the hell out of there. Of course, that would not happen.

Your eyes widened impossibly as you lurched forward and spit on his cock, creating a lubricant for him as he began to stroke a little hastier before letting go, keeping his hand upturned against his thigh as he sighed contentedly, his dick twitching against the air. 

“Time to get to work” he simpered playfully, and before you knew it you were grasping him with your own hand and kissing at his reddened tip. Your breath shook as you exhaled through your nose, straining your eyes up as well as you were able so you could glare daggers at the complacent man before you. You felt your eyelids lower and your eyebrows relax, knowing this was his doing so the look that you gave him was more suggestive. How you wished to tighten your grip so painfully that–

 With puckered lips you took him into your mouth, pulling your hand down his shaft to grab at his balls as your lips began sliding up and down sensually. A soft rumble came from his chest, which rose and fell heavily from every deep breath he took each time you repeated your motions. He was in complete control, from the speed to how hard you sucked, although you didn’t expect him to let you take your mouth off of him so soon, both of your hands replacing where it once was with firm strokes. 

You could feel something forming inside of you that was trying to get out, you couldn’t tell if it was words or a physical jab, but you knew that if you tried hard enough you could get some semblance of sway. You exerted what was left of your internal energy into this feeling, noting how your tongue and throat began moving in a way that was readying for speech, so thankful that you were able to utter your next words. You did so quickly, and it sounded a bit mumbly and slurred, but at least you could get something from your own mind to interject for a fleeting moment. 

“You could’ve come to this heist and done it all by yourself, couldn’t you?”

“Absolutely” he laughed breathlessly, gritting his teeth with a suppressed groan as he forced you to resume your ministrations, seemingly unbothered by your ability to temporarily rebel against his dominance. Your throat and tongue moved in a different way this time as he pushed your head down further than before, making you gag and clench around his tip once it hit the back of your throat. “We’re still gonna finish the job, but now that I have you here, like this, why should I wait any longer?”

You couldn’t respond for obvious reasons, wishing you could have control over your jaw and clamp your teeth down in revenge. But of course, that could not happen, your cheeks hollowed as you sucked up to his tip once more, massaging it with your tongue before popping off and bringing your fingers over it instead, your other hand moving to his balls again so you could fondle them.  

Shalnark must have really liked you because he seemed to be getting close to his orgasm very rapidly, soft heaves of his chest and little whines escaping him as he forced your hand to jerk him faster and faster. What must have only been five minutes felt like five hours, being completely restricted in your own body and using it to perform for someone else who you didn’t even like that much was infuriating, made even worse by the way he looked at you with glassy eyes and pinkened cheeks which stirred something in your guts and made your core throb involuntarily (was it involuntary?). You did not like him, from the start you did not like him, yet the way that he looked at you with such eagerness to come made your heart pick up its pace and thrum a little quicker against your ribcage. It was almost as if you wanted it just as badly as he did. 

Without control, your mouth opened with your tongue splayed out, your hand tilting his cock closer to your face. You barely had time to process these movements before he was coming on you, warm spurts of it landing mostly on your tongue but some went on the corners of your lips and cheek. His hips were rocking as he did and his free hand clutched a death grip on the material of his pants, the other on his cell was trembling as he struggled to maintain the fluidity of your movements, making your own hand start faltering and your jaw slowly begin to shut. His breaths were shaky and only one guttural whimper left him as he started to calm down, his cock softening within your loosening grip. 

It took him and his muscles a while to fully mellow out, his eyes were closed as he slowed his breathing, and his thumb stilled, so unfortunately that left you stuck with your mouth partially closed and your hand barely holding onto his manhood, the strings of his cum that didn’t make it into your mouth now dribbling off of your face and approaching the ground between you two. When his eyes peered open he took notice, a puerile laugh leaving him as he used the thumb of his freehand to swipe it off your jaw and push it into your now fully opened mouth, displaying his return to earth from elation when he made your lips close so you would suck on his thumb. 

“Ah, you were so good, better than I imagined” he spoke contentedly, his finger playing around pushing and prodding at your tongue for a bit before he pulled it out and finally moved to clothe himself. When he was situated he used his free hand to support himself on the wall behind him as he stood, and you stood up promptly too. 

You could tell that your expression was unhappy, or at the very least that you were trying to look unhappy so he could know that no, you were not good, you were angry and now miserable. He raised his eyebrows at your attempt of showing attitude.

“How cute” he smiled brightly, daringly reaching out to pat your head. Your eyes followed his hand, squinting in a flinch as he petted you like an animal. “Come on, we’ve got some treasure to steal now.” He caressed your hair briefly before walking past you, and you followed behind shortly, saying nothing else since he didn’t allow you to. Inside you were revolted as he made you catch up to be right at his side and reach for his hand, fingers intertwining in a horribly tender way. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, we aren’t done just yet. Once we finish this job, I’ll make sure to take care of your needs too.”

You hated the way that the butterfly in your stomach thrummed at the prospect. 

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work on to any other platforms. do not translate my work. 

[pellaaearien]

Hey so here’s a really mean Sandman thought I had...

I just finished reading The Kindly Ones for the first time. (Yeah.) And I must say, it was a very interesting experience from the perspective of someone who both watched the show first and has also been hanging around deeply into fandom enough that I’ve absorbed spoilers/meta/whatever else surrounding the end of the comics before reading them to draw my own conclusions.

Now I have. And I think I’ve come to some interesting ones.

First off, naturally, Neil Gaiman has written the ultimate tragedy. Everything comes full circle, every decision made with the best possible intentions has the worst possible outcome, and it was always going to be this way. It’s a masterstroke, and as I read I was less sad than admiring at the completeness of it, the way everything slots into place so neatly.

Ever since I spoiled myself for the ending (which I’m glad I did,) I’ve read quite a bit of Kindly Ones meta. Many words have been spilled around the subject of “if someone had just SEEN what was wrong...” but MANY people did! Fiddler’s Green. Matthew. Nuala. And, of course, Hob, who Dream walks out on - again - because he’s being too perceptive. Again.

I was also reading the book with the foreknowledge that this is all an elaborate suicide plot on the part of Dream. After all, as Death says at the end, “the only reason you got yourself into this mess is because this is where you wanted to be.” And, later, when Dream says he has made all the preparations necessary, “You’ve been making them for ages. You just didn’t let yourself know that was what you were doing.” To which Dream replies, “if you say so.”

So we have lots of people saying lots of things about Dream, but what do Dream’s actions say for themselves? Because I must admit, reading the book knowing how it was going to end threw a lot of those assumptions into a new light.

Let’s go back to the conversation with Death. Dream says: “I did not plan this, my sister. I had imagined that I would be able to keep events here in check. I intended to play a waiting game, in which, ultimately, no harm was done.”

This I believe. One of the things that never sat right with me was Dream sitting back and letting his creations suffer, if his intention all along was to destroy himself. I don’t believe that’s in character for Dream in any incarnation.

What was Dream’s motivation? Dream is tired. He says so himself. He’s been tired for a long time, probably even before his imprisonment and having to basically remake the Dreaming and since then he hasn’t had a moment’s peace, what with Season of Mists and Orpheus and everything else. I think meeting Daniel planted the seed in his mind, that there was an out. As Death says, “...the stuff you do. Where you do it, and you won’t even admit to yourself it’s what you’re doing.” 

Meeting Daniel was that moment for Dream. Someone who could take over his responsibilities in the Dreaming. He can’t just walk away, like Destruction and Lucifer. That’s not who he is. I think Dream’s plan was to wait for Daniel to grow up some, and then... something. ??? profit. Maybe he would’ve gone to the Fates himself and taken their punishment for Orpheus. (Because he does, as Nuala astutely points out, want to be punished for Orpheus).

BUT, Daniel gets stolen while he’s still a baby. So Dream sends Matthew and the newly-remade Corinthian after him. Lyta, meanwhile, instigates the Furies, so now they’re on a ticking clock.

(I don’t, personally, think that Dream freed Loki with the intention of setting all this in motion, but that’s up to reader interpretation.)

Dream makes preparations. It certainly seems like he’s making peace with the fact of his death. He visits Nada (a small boy in Hong Kong), does a census of the Dreaming, acknowledges his servants, feeds pigeons, examines his properties in the waking world, and reviews various treaties and agreements to which the Dreaming is subject. He is responsible. He’s getting his affairs in order in case things don’t fall the way he expects them to.

When his Griffin is killed, Dream tells Furies: “I can create another, who would not even know that it had ever died.” Cold, perhaps, but very in keeping with the type of backwards kindness we’ve seen from Dream throughout the series. He also says: “This is my world, ladies. I control it, I am responsible for it. You with neither destroy it nor will you destroy me.”

The last part, as we know, is simply true. The Dreaming can be restored endlessly, and even if the facet known as Morpheus is destroyed, Dream will continue. But it’s the first part that’s significant. I control it, I am responsible for it. That part says to me that he would not allow his creations to suffer. He is responsible for them. And yes, he could restore them with a thought, but why bother? If he’s trying to get himself killed, why doesn’t the story just end here and now? With the Furies and Dream alone in his throne room?

Clearly, he’s waiting for Daniel. He can’t allow himself to be removed without a successor in place. Once the Furies leave, he immediately calls Matthew for an update. Matthew comments on how cold Dream sounds - he’s feeling the pressure.

Fiddler’s Green is killed. Does Dream say “I can create another?” No. He immediately goes in search of Lyta, to hopefully negate the wrath of the Furies. A stopgap, as the Furies would find another avatar in time, but Dream is taking action. He is not passively letting his doom collapse around his ears.

He’s foiled by Thessaly (all my homies hate Thessaly). While they are estranged exes, Thessaly admits that protecting Lyta from Dream was “not entirely” to hurt him: she struck a deal with the Three for a bit more life. Hurting Dream was an added bonus. She knows Dream well enough that he won’t break the rules in order to kill Lyta.

Dream is visibly upset by this. He won’t break the rules, but Thessaly’s actions (and his own, by extension) mean that more destruction will be wrought in the Dreaming. Lucien takes him to task for it:

Lucien asks why he isn’t restoring the things the Furies destroyed, but it makes sense to halt the source of the destruction first, rather than needing to fix things over and over again. Dream is at a loss. His plan was foiled and now he has no way to hold off the Furies. And Daniel is still missing. He could summon his sister right now (as he says, “by his own hand or another’s”) but that would leave the Dreaming in disarray, and he won’t do that.

Now to add Nuala’s summons into the mix. While Death will later point out that yes, Dream could have rejected the summons, I think it’s important to remember that he does actually try, at first:

“I must most earnestly beseech you...” That is begging. That is literal begging from Dream of the Endless, and it doesn’t stop there.  “You do me a disservice, Nuala,” Dream says, after Nuala quotes his promise back to him. He tries to get out of it! But Nuala won’t let him, throws his words in his face, and thereby seals his fate. Because Dream of the Endless, if nothing else, keeps his word, follows the rules. As he says later: “If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves.” 

He can’t just leave his realm like Destruction. He can’t ignore the rules and kill Lyta anyway. He can’t go back on his word and reject Nuala’s summons. If he did that, he would no longer be Dream.

So, he sets Daniel up in his new role as best as he can with the time he has left, and then he takes his sister’s hand to prevent any further damage to the Dreaming. Death accuses him of planning the whole thing, and perhaps that’s true. Perhaps he saw where the pieces were laid on the board and manipulated them to his advantage. I certainly don’t deny that ever since Orpheus he had intended to take himself out of the picture, one way or another. But I truly don’t think he meant for it to happen like this. I don’t see him as a cold-hearted chessmaster, forcing himself into a corner until he has no way out, with his creations’ existences hanging in the balance. I think he had a plan, and tried to stick to the plan as best he could, as the true tragedy spun into place around him: it was always going to happen like this.

Are y’all ready for the mean thought?

Because thinking about it this way, if truly all he wanted was a way out, he could have expedited the process at any point. As I hope I have shown here, to the contrary, his behaviour reads to me as someone who held out until the absolute bitter end, until he literally had no other choice. What are we to make of this? On the one hand, we have Death’s accusation about  “...the stuff you do. Where you do it, and you won’t even admit to yourself it’s what you’re doing.” Maybe that’s true. Death knows Dream, and knows what she’s talking about.

On the other hand, we have a scene, way back at the beginning, with Hob. (Hob who, incidentally, doesn’t seem all that surprised to see Dream outside the confines of their century meetings, given that he thought their toast during Season of Mists was a dream, but I digress.) (Dream also goes to see Hob the instant there’s any inkling of trouble, again, as he does in Season of Mists, but I digress a second time.) And Hob is, as in 1889, too perceptive by half. As Dream is walking away, Hob says:

“You take care of yourself.”

What if Dream went to Hob, knowing his friend, being perceptive, would guess that something was up?

What if he just wanted to be reminded that someone cared whether or not something happened to him?

He gave Hob a promise that he would take care of himself. And so he did, in the face of overwhelming odds. (Odds that he may or may not have set in motion himself, true, but that just makes it more extraordinary.) Until he couldn’t any more. Until taking care of the Dreaming took precedence over taking care of the aspect, Morpheus.

Because Dream of the Endless always keeps his word.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

18+ MINORS DNI for a little bit of smut.

1984

Steve understood broken hearts. He's had his heart broken very recently, and he's broken them in the past. Although, he's always rejected them in the beginning before even thinking about starting something with them. He couldn't even think about using them unless he knew for sure they could handle it. He was used many times before, and before he had fallen in love, he used to be able to handle it. He was a bit of a slut, he could admit, but he could never drag someone along. It just seemed cruel. Rejection is a part of life, and he had to accept that or risk being stuck behind. Some people didn't learn that, though.

He was flirting with this girl in his science class for a while now, and he thought things were going great. He talked about how he had gotten out of a serious relationship, how unsure he was of jumping into another one. She had sympathized with him and said she wasn't looking for anything serious. Steve had grinned when he found a note in his locker asking him to meet her in a dark broom closet. Maybe right now, it didn't have to be serious. Maybe that could come later. Besides, it's been a while since he made out with a girl in a broom closet. Steve should have known it was too good to be true.

"Betty?" Steve called out as he knocked on the closet door, and the door was pushed open.

Steve grinned and slipped inside the darkened closet. The lights never worked in this one. He knew it, and so did everyone else. It was why it was dubbed the make-out closet. Although, he didn't learn this fact until very recently. He felt out with his hand and grinned when he found Betty's curly dark hair. He cupped her cheek and gently pushed her up against the wall, slotting his mouth against hers. She started to resist, so he pulled away, thinking that she had changed her mind. Suddenly, she was gripping the back of his jacket and pulling him flush against her. Was she taller than before? Maybe she was standing on something. Boy, that should have been his first clue.

She was kissing him this time, sloppy and eager. Her plump lips were perfectly soft. Wait, plump? Weren't her lips thin? Yeah, okay, so this wasn't Betty. It wasn't the first time he made out with a mysterious girl in a darkened closet. His hands moved from her hips and started wondering under her shirt. The girl moaned against his mouth and shuttered against his fingertips. Steve moved to cup her breast. . .wait. . .he had thought she had felt flat, but there was no way a girl could be this flat. Steve froze for a moment before slipping his tongue inside her mouth. He didn't want to stop kissing whoever this was. Steve froze. Something felt hard, and it wasn't just him. Oh. . .he was making out with a guy.

Hmm, just to be sure. Steve cupped their face and moved his hand to press against their throat gently. Yeah, okay. That was an addams apple. Yeah, he was tonguing a guy. Why wasn't he freaking out? Maybe he was enjoying it too much. He felt the same as if he were making out with a girl. His pulse was racing, and his stomach was fluttering rapidly. He was also hard as a rock. Hmm, maybe it didn't have to be a big deal. Was he that comfortable in his sexuality? He didn't get a chance to answer because the guy he was kissing had pulled away.

"Were you trying to choke me in a kinky way or kill me kind of way? Or did you just feel my throat and realize that I was a guy?" He asked.

"Uh, do you want the honest answer?" Steve asked.

"Yes," he chucked.

"I just realized you were a guy," he replied.

"And you just continued to kiss me?" He asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"A good kiss is a good kiss," Steve muttered.

"So, it doesn't matter to you whether they have a dick or not as long as it's a good kiss?" He asked, laughing.

"Yeah, can we go back to kissing?" He asked.

"You don't want to freak out first?" He asked.

"I'll freak out later," Steve said and then paused. "It's not like I haven't thought about it, you know. When a girl has, you know, sucked me off, I've thought about what it would be like to give head. I thought maybe it was just one of those thoughts that get into your head, like when you look at a pen and wonder how it's made."

"Now, you're thinking that you've never been straight," he cackled. "I shouldn't laugh."

"No, it's funny, you should laugh," Steve snickered.

"So, do you want to find out what it's like?" He asked.

"What? . . .oh, yeah, yeah!" Steve exclaimed and sank to his knees.

When Steve walked out of that closet, he had a grin on his face so wide that it looked like he had a hangar in his mouth. Nothing could have brought him down, not even when he saw Betty at his locker, where she told him about her plan to stand him up for rejecting her friend that one time. He called her childish, scoffed, and continued onto his next class. It wasn't until a couple of years later that Steve had found out who he had been with in that closet.

1986

Steve was sitting on the floor of his living room with Robin and Eddie, enjoying pizza. They had all just come out to each other.

"Okay, Stevie, what made you realize that you weren't exactly straight?" Eddie asked.

Robin clutched her stomach as she burst into laughter.

"Shut up, Robin," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh, this is a good one," Eddie cackled.

"I mean, I think on some level I always kind of knew that something was up. But yeah, this girl set me up to be stood up in the make-out closet. It was dark, and all I knew was that I was supposed to be making out with this girl. I felt that there was someone there with long hair, and it took me longer than I realized that I wasn't making out with a girl," Steve said.

"It took him less time to realize that he liked kissing guys," Robin laughed. "I mean, he felt up the shirt. . .the girl had no breasts!"

"Hey! The girl could have lost her breasts to cancer, and as we learned from that bar that we went to, he could have been transgender," Steve said and then smiled fondly. "That guy was a great kisser."

"He had the best stories too," Robin said. "Hey, you never told me why that didn't work out?"

"The girl who he was in love with came back to town," Steve said. "Apparently, she now knows about him and accepts him. They got their own place and everything with a little dog. Although her parents disowned her."

"Aww, good for Brian," Robin said. "And fuck Brian's girlfriend's parents. We should invite them over for dinner! Brian and his girlfriend. Not his girlfriend's parents. They could meet Vickie."

Eddie suddenly burst into laughter.

"It's a small world," Eddie cackled.

"Oh, you know Brian, too?" Robin asked.

"What?! No, but he sounds cool," Eddie said. "I just think I know who was in that closet."

"Shit, seriously?!" Steve asked.

Eddie leaned forward, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and pulled Steve into a kiss. He pulled back, grinning.

"Does that seem familiar?" Eddie asked.

"Oh my god!" Steve giggled.

"You couldn't have just told him. You had to kiss him?" Robin sighed. "Right in front of my pizza, too."

"Telling him wouldn't have been as fun as showing him," Eddie said with a grin.

"Yeah, maybe you should show me again," Steve said. "I think I'm starting to forget."

Eddie grinned and crawled over to him. He pushed Steve down and straddled him.

"Wouldn't want you to forget, hmm?" Eddie said.

He kissed Steve. Robin made a noise of protest.

"I am taking the rest of the pizza and watching TV upstairs!" Robin exclaimed. "Let me know when you're done defiling my best friend! And use a condom! You've given him enough kids, Munson! Happy for you dinguses!"

Eddie laughed against his lips, his body shaking with laughs.

"Lights on or off?" Steve grinned.

"Oh, the lights on this time, big boy," Eddie said.

He moved down Steve’s body and started undoing Steve’s pants. He paused before raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve said.

"This time, I'm going to find out what it's like," Eddie said.

Quick as a flash, Eddie had his pants as well as his boxers off. Eddie cackled gleefully before wrapping his lips around him and taking him deep into his mouth. He looked up at Steve the entire time.

"Oh, fuck!"

Anything can happen with the lights on or off, but it was always better with the lights on. More things to see with the lights on. Steve couldn't have been more grateful for the girl who stood him up. Who knows? Maybe he and Eddie would have continued to dance around each other forever. Sometimes, good things come from being rejected.

[jhuzen]

Hey I just love your study habits story and I was wondering if you’ll ever make a part 2? Because god damnnnnnnn that is my shit

hypothesis testing [m.reader]

paaaart 2! of this trainwreck. i had to take my time on this because my brain cells could not for the life of them remember how people get together normally. so… this is not normal lmao. also ft. our dendro daughter because i love her so much.

𖦹 wholesome moments with nahida contrasting your moment with haitham and kissing :) slight traveler x reader if u squint at that one part.

“I think Alhaitham might be avoiding me.”

Nahida looked up from the dough she was kneading, her bright green eyes looking at you with wonder and curiosity. You stifled a laughter at the young archon (not so much in comparison to your age) — with her cheeks dusted with so much flour and bits of the dough stuck in her hair, it’s not everyday someone sees their archon in such a state.

“How do you mean?” Nahida turned her focus back to the dough, her eyebrows knitting in concentration, but it was clear that she was still all ears.

You looked down on the tofu you were cutting — the traveler had gone and dropped by some ingredients fresh from the stores back in Liyue after you and Nahida made a passing remark of wanting to try a different delicacy. Ever the charming outlander they are, they came back a few days later with a recipe and the ingredients on hand, it was only a shame that they couldn’t stay to help or eat, considering that they were currently busy with commissions as well.

You remembered offering housing them in on a stipend out of your own pocket — to rest even without having to worry about commissions and mora for a few days, but the traveler refused with a red face and ran off somewhere.

Now where were you again? Oh, yes. Alhaitham.

Jumping to conclusions, while tempting as a way to cope through unanswered queries, is not a habit slotted into your head. You were a patient man, looking through the lens of observation, testing a few hypotheses you’ve come up before finally drawing out a theory. Deductive reasoning, if you will. It’s how you worked on your research projects after all, especially despite the fact that inductive reasoning was more encouraged in your discipline sometimes.

And throughout the next few weeks, after your little study session that you conducted in Alhaitham’s home, you started seeing less and less of the man. Which, again, wasn’t that much to fuss over. You yourself placed him in a position of power where he’s not exactly allowed to have a much more leisurely schedule than he did as a scribe for an equal pay. But even then, he wasn’t this busy.

You recalled the few times on his first few days as the Acting Grand Sage — he was busy, but he always had enough time to entertain your whims and review your new research material for approval. He had enough time to spare you an hour or two to indulge his company, even more so when you would bring his preferred cup of coffee from Puspa café.

And now, it seems like every time you were planning to head to the Alhaitham’s new place of work, he’s always unavailable. And on the off chance that you catch his silhouette by the door, the moment you start walking up to him, it’s like he has a sixth sense for your presence and suddenly dissipates into nothingness.

It was… annoying. Bothersome. Troubling. It irked at your very core. It provoked something deep within you that even you have yet to figure out.

Nahida noticed your brooding silence and was kind enough to pull you back into the real world before you make the mistake of cutting your finger instead of the tofu, “Is the situation really so troublesome, [Name]?” Her kind eyes were quick to melt away the coldness that slowly gnawed at you. “Maybe it would help if you voiced it out.” She gave you an encouraging smile and truly you were certain that despite being her caretakers, it’s these moments that reverses the situation at hand.

Something you didn’t entirely mind. You appreciated Nahida’s efforts in exercising the application of the knowledge you’d graciously given her as her tutor.

“I would be remiss if I were to refuse a second opinion. Alright,” you resumed into your cutting, “It’s merely a working hypothesis, however… but it feels as though he has been making a conscious effort not to be around me recently.”

Nahida’s tiny hands cupped a dough and slowly shaped it into something that resembles a ball, “Why do you say that? He could be busy with his new responsibilities.”

“I’m not one to exclude the possibility, of course.” You scoffed a little, leaning back to squint at the recipe propped up by a mere empty sack where the crab roe was. You ought to pay the traveler back, they never said, but apparently, such an ingredient costed them quite the mora. “However, there is a different feel. He has an air of forced ignorance around my presence.”

The Dendro Archon crooned quietly at your words, thoughtful and delicate, as always, “Have you tried to confront him about this before?”

“More than I’d like to admit.”

“Ah… then your hypothesis might be just right,” Nahida giggled a little as her confirmation sent a pout to your lips that you seemed to be unaware of doing. “Does it upset you?” Her query was no less than damaging, but the defensive part of your logical brain suddenly flared up. Your muscles stiffened at her question, eyebrows furrowing even deeper with a matching scowl.

“…No.”

“So it does then.”

You had half a mind to tell the Archon that she should stop reading your mind when you can barely even process your own feelings, as ironic as it sounds. But then again, she was great at observing you ever since you and her started being seen as a family unit, closer than ever, and no doubt her jabs at your mannerisms would be on point.

“Could it be that the reason this is bothering you is because… you miss his company?”

A shot in the dark, that’s all Nahida did. But the grip you had on your knife was an indication of her keen observations. And suddenly, your rumination was thrown out of the way as you pieced the puzzles together.

She was right, you missed Alhaitham. So deeply that it actually bothered you; that suddenly it evoked an emotion within you that didn’t register positivity.

“Ah. ”

Nahida’s light giggle echoed in your ear, and you finally resumed into functioning, placing the cut tofu on another bowl and turning to her, “I suppose gratitude is in order, huh?” You asked.

“Not really. It was enough for me to see you look so stunted. I never would have thought that you would be one to get stuck on your own feelings despite deciphering so much of it in your pursuit of knowledge in a human’s emotions.” Nahida laughed with light and airy amusement, “It’s very much like an adventurer that went through the highs and lows of nature, entering every domain, seeking out treasure only to completely miss it in the end.”

You resisted the urge to groan at her words. It was stupid, alright. You were stupid. Alas, it’s nothing you can fault her for. With a fond smile, you reached out to cup her face, wiping away the flour that dusted her cheeks with your thumbs, “Of course. Very much like an expert adventurer making the most amateur mistake.”

“So then, do you know what could have caused his sudden aversion?”

You blinked as your mind suddenly blanked out, “I… never really knew.”

“Wouldn’t it be a good time for the expert adventurer to go on another exploit and find the treasure this time?”

“It sure would… right after we make the food.”

The precious smile on Nahida’s face was quick to lift your mood. Quite frankly, your gratitude is endless towards Alhaitham, the traveler, and the rest for even mustering up the courage to rescue the archon. You of all people least expected that she would be the family that softened you up.

And while you were finally able to lay your feelings to a temporary rest after clawing onto the shreds of sanity (courtesy of Nahida), Alhaitham was not all the better.

What happened the moment Kaveh barged in on your study time was nothing short of embarrassing. Alhaitham barely had enough time to process what happened — well, either that or he had the memory permanently blotted out from his brain. It’s like a defense mechanism, to protect what little of his pride remained that day.

It certainly helped however, especially when Kaveh was around to tease him. The fact that he somehow magically forget what happened on that day was enough to get him by to keep a face so muted of expressions. It was the best that he can do to stay grounded in his sanity.

But even that was slowly chipping away the moment he realized just how present you are in his life. He became minutely aware of your presence more than ever, to the point that he thought that you were actively seeking him out. And well, you are. You searched for him everywhere and all he ever did was take three steps out of your peripherals and hide.

Alhaitham could never view the act of confrontation cumbersome. He treats it like an ordinary conversation, but there was a lingering smidge of satisfaction when the person he’s currently grilling with interrogation squirms under his gaze so uncomfortably. It’s especially indicative that he’s succeeded in picking the right person to corner, knowing that they will break and he will get his information not long after.

But it was different with you. A confrontation with you eluded him. It was something that he wanted to actively avoid. Alhaitham never charges into a battlefield without strategies mapped out in his mind. In every plan he conceives, there is a backup, and in every backup he’s created, births another backup for said backup. It’s ridiculous, but convenient most of the time.

However, you were a foe he’s actively aware not to engage in.

Though Alhaitham has to wonder if you were really a foe… or were you an indispensable ally. So indispensable that he can’t even afford to make a move out of fear of losing you. But his mind had to counter that logic — whatever he’s doing right now, surely it’s a way to lose you as well. By now, you’re bound to be aware of his active avoidance of you, and the thought of you realizing he wasn’t worth your while somehow left a bad aftertaste.

His hand flexed, gripping his writing tool tightly as his lips turned down into a scowl. He hated to entertain such an irksome thought, but now it presented itself as an intrusive thought of his. One that would be sure to keep him up from nights on end.

Isn’t he just lucky that you were a researcher? And if there’s something a researcher is, it’s that they’re persistent to get answers.

And isn’t he even luckier that you were already on your way up to his office, with a determined glare settled in your normally neutral gaze?

Alhaitham was all too distracted by his thoughts of you, that he didn’t even consider looking up from the myriad of migraines that manifested in a form of paperwork, completely missing that it was you who now barged inside his temporary office.

You didn’t even expect Alhaitham’s presence in the office. With all his time spent avoiding you, you already mapped out other potential locations that he could be in. But you checked the office in the off chance that he was inside. And maybe it was a blessing from the wise archon whom you just confided to, but Alhaitham was in his seat, signing away, giving approval after approval of every research sent to him as well as handling certain changes in the law of the city as per Nahida’s request.

The Acting Grand Sage never bothered inquiring the business of his unwanted visitor. All he wanted right now is to go home and rest and maybe think rationally about his feelings that were repressed for far too long. It was going nowhere and he had a dislike for things that lead nowhere and make him unproductive all the more.

One can only imagine the surprise when you slammed your hands on the table, the action echoing within this glorified space. Alhaitham looked up abruptly, only then wishing that he had been more prepared.

You came and he had no battle plan.

“What are you…”

“Why are you avoiding me?” You cut him off with little remorse, leaning further in and Alhaitham had to lean away from you, feeling overwhelmed. You didn’t even bother with the pointless small talk that you would indulge yourself in. You just went straight for his throat with no mercy and Alhaitham had no choice but to face the blade of truth.

He reconfigured and answered you with a question instead to buy time, “What makes you think that I—”

Your patience was running thin and that much could be sensed in the tension that wafted between you and him, “Don’t give me that. You’re elusive, but you’ve always given me the time of your day. And suddenly you retracted that privilege and I want to know why, lest I take you to the borders of Fontaine and have you tried in court.”

Alhaitham was dumbfounded for once. You… of all people, thought that his attention was a privilege? He couldn’t push down the feeling that welled up inside him — it was something good. And the fact that you were unhappy from such a ‘privilege’ to be revoked. Alhaitham had to restrain himself from biting on his lip, settling for a quick jaw clench to relieve the tension you suddenly placed on him with your incredibly direct words.

“Tell me,” you urged and swatted the quill away from his hand, shucking away the research paper that he was currently. And true to your eccentric fashion of doing things, you climbed over the pristine wooden desk just to get to him. You really weren’t risking a chance of him sliding out if you take a moment to go around that humongous desk.

Alhaitham had to keep himself still and maintain a strong will as your shoes hit the ground, finally leaving him no room for escape as you caged him in the seat — hands on either of his thighs, squeezing them so tightly.

“Talk and I’ll replace your position as this nation’s Grand Sage.” You bribed and he had to wonder if you were only dangling the bait in front of him, or were you desperate enough to offer and act on it.

“Why do you… even want to know…?” Since when did Alhaitham feel so breathless?

“I’ve been deprived of something I’m looking for, ‘Haitham. It took me just a word from the wise to realize how much I’ve missed your attention,” were you really planning to murder him right then and there? Your words are so cutthroat and merciless that Alhaitham was almost gasping for air.

Even from the comfort of his chair, he was unable to retreat and reconfigure strategies like he intended. He was melting from your gaze, like a candle burning through its fiery wick that was you. At this point, there was even no denying that you wanted answers. And Alhaitham wished he could give them, but to do so would put him in a path where there is a point of no return; a roadblock he can never come back from; a decisive factor that could dictate whatever kind of friendship he has with you.

And there is nothing worrisome with exercising caution as often times he himself would rather lay back down and let all the pawns do their work for him, only letting him reap the seeds he had sown through the tools that he has. But you… you were no pawn, you were a player in this game and he hated it.

You exhaled sharply through your nose — a telltale sign of your resignation. Oh how foolish Alhaitham was to think that you were letting him off just like that.

“…I’m no mind reader so I can’t possibly guess what’s going on with that head of yours,” you said and Alhaitham agreed. “And it’s clear that there’s no drawing out that answer out of you.” He would’ve nodded if he wasn’t too overwhelmed with you.

And suddenly a dangerous glint appeared in your eyes, “Sometimes I forget I’m capable of assessing people’s emotions.” A wry laugh escaped from your lips and Alhaitham was back to keeping his guard up as best as he could. “I hope you’ve read my papers about the physical manifestations of one’s psychological state, Acting Grand Sage, because I’m about to give you a demonstration.”

Regrets and Alhaitham don’t often cross paths in his life. Every action of his is carefully calculated and is conducted with his best interest in mind. And most of the time, everything turns out in his favor. He’s smart and strong (despite his dubious claims of being a feeble scholar, whatever that meant). But at this very moment, he had no choice but to face a mistake of his — that he and his pride refused to tell you that you occupy his mind at a copious amount, unable to sleep without even seeing you, going even worse when you did.

He didn’t tell you that your presence affects him so. That there’s something with the way your headstrong approach contrasted his roundabout and cunning styles, immediately uprooting the millions of plans he’s made with just one word from you.

All of that was all he could think of to keep him sane from this ordeal. But no, it wasn’t enough to numb his senses.

Not enough to block out the feeling of your fingertips lingering on the skin of his bicep, palpating his muscles with little regard to his apparent psychological being. You said you were only assessing him, but right now, all he ever wanted was to go and bury himself to save some skin.

“Tension on muscles — usually indicative of strong emotions… often unease… or…” your voice was quiet, but Alhaitham figured it only lessened from how all he could ever hear is the blood rushing in his ears. “Are you uncomfortable, ‘Haitham? Or are you excited?”

The jaw clench from the man was all you needed to know, “Hm. The latter.” You concluded and Alhaitham almost shot up from his seat, ready to protest but couldn’t even find the energy to do so. He was far into deep. And at the very least, he can just prepare himself from the tragedy that he created.

Easier said than done.

Especially with the way your hand slowly traveled to his chest, your touch shielded by his thin and tight shirt that hugged his figure. You felt your way around and a wail almost spilled out of his mouth, much to his indignation. You narrowed your eyes at him, as if you were chiding him from holding back on you — or was it just his imagination?

“Accelerated heartbeat, rather strong too.”

Alhaitham may not always be right in deciphering you, but he knows that look of yours. That look that you make when you’ve pieced everything together even with what little clues you have in your arsenal.

Before you can even speak, Alhaitham already averted his gaze, the back of his hand shielding his mouth as the final clue made itself known — the heat in his ears spreading to his cheeks, coloring them in a rather endearing bright shade of red.

“…You’re insufferable,” was heard from the Acting Grand Sage, muffled from his hand.

“Am I? When you’re the one who made me go through the assessment? You’re far more troublesome, Alhaitham.” Your hand left his bicep, opting to remove his hand away from his mouth, and yet your oh so devious hand either forget its place as it never left the plush mounds on his chest. “Are you ready to hear your results?”

With a half-hearted glare sent your way, Alhaitham didn’t even bother to stop you.

Didn’t even move when you leaned so close, breath ghosting over his lips, “Your uncertainty in our interactions, the way you always seem to give me enough time of your day yet avoid me at all cost. The idiotic push and pull that you do. It’s a way to cope, isn’t it? A cope from your attraction.” He had to suck in a sharp breath as the final words left your lips.

“You like me, Alhaitham.”

With one last bout of confidence, Alhaitham scoffed, “Aren’t you confident today?”

You grinned, “Confident enough to reciprocate your attraction too, as it seems.”

That quickly threw him off the loop, his lips quivering as he looked at you in pure, unadulterated surprise — but even he was unable to recuperate from the initial shock as you quickly pressed your lips against him, swallowing whatever possible refutation he could make.

His hands flew to your arms this time, clutching tightly as his mind frantically scrambled to kiss back, only to realize that he barely has any experience in the first place. And it was like you were even painfully aware of this fact as you took on the lead, letting him follow you through the movement of your lips. His breathing ran ragged and perhaps it was his slowly depleting oxygen, but he soldiered on even with his labored breaths, wanting to get a taste more of you.

Far too addicting, that’s what you were. You sent him into overdrive as you licked his lips so sensually, leaving him weak in his knees and on the brink of collapse, but you held him there, hiking him up and letting him lean onto you as you vigorously attacked his lips, biting and nipping so mercilessly, glee injecting itself into your bloodstream like a drug as you felt him squirm under your touch.

An uncharacteristic squeal was emitted from Alhaitham as your stubborn hand on his chest gave a gentle squeeze, almost knocking the little wind left out of his lungs. You finally granted him mercy as you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips with his as the one piece of evidence that you messed him up in such a way.

Your thumb swiped over Alhaitham’s wet lips, finding it strangely endearing to him so pliant, “You’ve never kissed anyone before. That’s strangely adorable.”

He scoffed, “Like you have.”

“Oh? You don’t know what kind of research methods I’ve done behind the scenes, Acting Grand Sage. You’ve no idea how many men and women I’ve kissed for the sake of research.

Alhaitham frowned. If you were provoking him, then you sure did prove yourself to be far more successful than you thought. Something about the thought of you mingling with others left a sense of dread within Alhaitham and he could not stomach it. He took your coat by the hand and yanked you down, “I’m willing to strike those words from the record if you quit these methods.”

“Bribing the researcher now? That’s rich.” You leaned back in, and gave his nose a peck. “Though I don’t particularly mind. I like you anyway.”

He refused to lose to the likes of you and yet here you are already staking your claim over him with a confident smile, he huffed, “Make it worth my while then.”

You closed the gap between your lips with a hum.

“I certainly will.”

“Hey, Alhaitham you jerk! I need to—!”

For the second time, Kaveh’s inappropriate timing had struck, entering the office as the lift arrived at the very top. He bustled in with a fuming look, only to stop dead in his tracks at such a scandalous sight. And this time, it wasn’t even remotely indicative in nature like the last. Here was his stoic roommate, legs spread wide with you in between them, lips barely leaving each other as you both turned to him.

Kaveh can only hope that this is the last time he catches you two alone in a room… lest he finds an even more unflattering scene on the third time.

Because in this case, the third time is most definitely not the charm.