#forced to work together - become so used to each others' tics and ways of working that they cannot envision /not/ working together

[immobiliter]

there's so much to say about this conversation between furina & neuvillette in 4.2 and i think a lot of people try to use this line in particular to push them as a ship ( which is fine, you do you ), but personally? not how i feel about them at all and i want to take this in another direction for a minute. i don't think furina is implying anything about neuvillette here ( whether it's as a deflection or not ) and is in fact kinda insinuating the exact opposite lmao, but more on that in a moment. imo, she's not necessarily talking about "watching" her in a lurid or sexually charged way, she is talking about the act of being looked at. over five hundred years of pseudo-godhood, furina has literally made herself to be looked at — there are certainly sexual implications you could take from this more generally, especially with the marilyn monroe influences in her character, although i won't really be talking about this here, i feel like that is a topic all of its own — by others. she is the leading lady of fontaine, she must be centre stage, she must draw the audience's gaze and she must keep up the facade. i think, when this line is paired with this one from her SQ, too, it makes more sense in context~

in turning herself into something ( i say something instead of someone, because she doesn't really have a personhood and that is her greatest problem going forward following the AQ ) to be gazed at and marvelled at, she has also turned that gaze into her ultimate fear. she knows that people must look in order to believe in her apparent divinity but, as i've talked about before, furina is acutely aware of how fragile that facade still is and is obsessed with controlling how others perceive her, even all these centuries later, especially in the wake of the impending prophecy that she seemingly cannot stop. she cannot get close to people, she cannot allow people in, she cannot develop any meaningful relationships out of fear that the role of the divine starlet on high will shatter. as she says~

plenty is made in her character stories of how difficult she is to work with in a professional capacity as an actress over the years lmao, but there is one exception to this: neuvillette. she has had no choice but to work with him for four hundred years and, while i don't doubt that she is still a complete nuisance to work with at times ( thank you for your service, neuvillette ), the two of them still made it work. there's no way that furina could have worked alongside neuvillette for that long and not given him a glimpse behind the curtain — as he points out in the line before hers in the AQ, he knows that she has never been as superficial as she claims to be. but the point that i think furina is getting at here is that neuvillette has never weaponised that knowledge of her character against her like he does here. neuvillette knows her better than anyone ever could, he never needed to look or marvel at her from a safe distance as regular fontainians did, he would express a certain amount of impatience and tut at her i'm sure but — and this is the important thing — would still quietly fall back into their routine of running fontaine together. i think furina found a great deal of comfort in that relationship, as close to an equal partnership as she was capable of having. convincing him that she was focalors was a very different task to convincing fontaine that she was focalors ( given that he is the hydro sovereign ), and yet he had never verbally expressed any doubt to her until this moment — which is also why i think she becomes so defensive to him afterwards.

and as a small sidenote, i also just find it oddly poetic that the one character who was never that preoccupied with looking at her over all those years as everyone else was, is the one most glad to see furina's return to the stage in her SQ ( where, as we know, she receives her vision ).

[larcenywrites]

hii. in case youre taking requests for headcanons, could you write some about how boyfriend young!tony (lovingly and sweetly) annoys his girlfriend? no one could convince me that annoying his partner isnt like one of his love languages lol thank you anywayyy

Oh, absolutely 😈 He 100% annoys the hell out of his partners, but it really is just part of his love language and really the only way he knows how to get attention! He's an attention whore fs (a term of endearment, of course <3)

How He Gets Attention

💠Being annoying and pouty is the only way he really knows how to communicate and how to get attention 🥲 He means well! Really! But that's not to say it can't get on your nerves sometimes.

💠But in a way it is cute. He just loves your love, and surely you love to love him! And any attention is good attention, right? You might have a different opinion on that, but luckily his ways of getting your attention are mostly harmless

💠Most of it is physical. He's touchy-feely anyway, but he acts like a poor housecat that just neeever gets attention ever 🙄 If you aren't somehow touching him, he's going to pout about it. But rest assured he will not only let you know, but will also take matter into his own hands

💠Kinda random, but in any type of setting he tends to mindlessly play with the hem of your shirt. There's usually nothing sexual about it, but sometimes the way he brushes over your skin might get you a little bothered 😉 Lectures, dinners, or even when you're both stuck in a crowd, he just pulls and twirls at the bottom of your shirt. If it's tucked or maybe not even a shirt, he'll still pick and pinch at the fabric, or play with your sleeve instead. At this point it might be becoming part of an anxious tic, but as long as it doesn't bother you too much he just finds solace in knowing your there ❤ and he just likes knowing he's being slightly annoying about it but not enough to be told off. Enough to keep your attention on whatever you were doing, but you're still well aware that he's there too!

💠If you have classes together, he's probably always messing with you, whether it be during lecture or when you're doing homework in bed. Oh, you're actually paying attention and doing your work? Where was all this attentiveness yesterday 😠 He can't do much in class (much to your relief), but he might still doodle in the very center of the paper you were using for notes, or keep muttering jokes that might be pretty funny and you have to literally keep a hand over your mouth. If he's feeling a little frisky he may try to play footsie with you, which may sometimes become just straight up kicking each other to see who will stop first 😭 If he's feeling a little sweeter (especially if you've been down recently or just got onto him for being distracting in class), he may hold your hand and/or play with your fingers. You may even get a little smooch to the back of your hand 😘

💠If you're doing homework at a café or something, he still can't get in to much, but homework and studying is usually done in someone's bed, whether you're both working or just one. I'm sure you can imagine all the ways he could distract you here... He has a lot more room and privacy to beg for attention, and can be a lot more creative in his efforts to get your eyes on him. He may throw a pencil your way that so perfectly leaves a skid mark right across your paper, or might throw balls of wadded up paper. Toss them back and he'll honestly be ecstatic! If you're doing work, but he has nothing to do, he may just sneakily inch closer and closer until his head is in your lap, even if he's smooshed into your textbook! He's bored! He's lonely! Just play with his hair or brush your thumb up and down his nose 🥺 If that doesn't work, he may sigh oh-so-sadly until you're at least forced to ask him what's wrong, and he'll just look at you with hurt puppy eyes that surely no one could resist! At least give him a little kiss on the head!

💠If he's really desperate, he's not afraid poke the bear-- literally! There's a specific spot around your waist somewhere that he's found where you very dramatically jolt away every time he pokes it, or maybe you're just really ticklish. Your surprised yelp is cute, and if you slap at his hand it gives him an excuse to start a playfight! And by playfight, he really just means flopping on top of you and forcing you to cuddle with him 😌 and you can't escape when he's directly on top of you 😇

💠If it’s snowing and you’re either still in bed or maybe you don’t want to go outside, this sneaky bastard will either scoop up some snow and just press it into your neck, or he will actually make a snowball and throw it at you. It’s just water, at least, but very very cold water 🤧🥶 At least when you’re chasing him down the hall he has your attention? He can warm you up later to make up for it 😉

💠Same thing if you're on the beach. A quiet moment may be ruined by the sudden splash of chilly ocean water on your legs! Honestly, you're pretty sure he just likes messing with you

💠If you're asleep he usually tries not to bother you, but sometimes he can't help it! Not only does he want cuddles all the time, but you're also really cute and honestly you're looking a little too peaceful 😈 And he may just be having trouble sleeping :( If he's bored and just wants company, he may just say your name and pet names over and over until you wake up, and if you're a deep sleeper he may tease his fingers up your spine or comb them through your hair. He does try to be gentle and loving about it! And if you do start to stir and sweetly lean into is touch, you'll be met with a face smooshing against yours regardless of your tired groan of protest. If he just wants your arms around him, and the above attempts also don't work, he'll just lift your arm and tuck himself in against your chest ❤ But sometimes he just... likes being a brat. He may just mess with you and poke at you until your rolling over to get away from him, but now he's sad and he's just going to curl up against your back until you roll back over and hold him 🥺

💠If he's really feisty that day, and you aren't entirely asleep, you may take a pillow or stuffed animal to the head. Hey, it's another excuse for him to playfight with you if you fight back! Or he may hide in your neck when you tell him off. It still ends up in cuddles, so he wins either way 😌

💠Speaking of really feisty, he may also just bite you. Sometimes he's sweet in getting your attention! He might keep pecking your shoulders and cheeks until your giggling and finally kiss him back, but sometimes he'll just nip your arm or your shoulder (or your neck). Usually it's hard to ignore those, but if you can, he'll go in a little harder and very innocently kiss the hand pushing his mouth away from you ;)

💠But it's not entirely about him! Not always, not exactly. Sure, maybe getting you annoyed is cute or funny or means he can act all cute and apologetic and play victim. He's acting out for a reason, you know! But getting you annoyed or mad means he gets to apologize and calm you down and play hero (even though he did the damage, but, whatever). It does work! You can't really stop him from hugging you and saying he's sorry. And surely even you can't have some fun with a little play fighting!

[frasier-crane-style]

Read a couple things from Kindle Unlimited.

Chariot is essentially an entry in the powered armor subgenre, only with a car instead of a suit. Guy finds car at junkyard, it turns out to be a talking spy car possessed by the lady spy that was killed in it, bad guys want the car back… it wasn't bad, per se, but just nothing in there that was new or interesting. The car thief with the estranged wife, the kid who needs medical treatment, the loan shark the hero needs to pay back… even the synthwave look of the thing is essentially a take-off on Drive. All in all, it comes off like a failed pitch for a Knight Rider reboot--and brother, if your pitch isn't good enough for a Knight Rider reboot, you might wanna call it a day.

The Nice House By The Lake: I'm sure this has fans, but to me it was boring, boring, boring. At the end of twelve issues, nothing has happened and no new information has been revealed. The focus isn't really on mystery or horror, but on characters, and these are some bland-ass characters. Twelve is too many people, they all blur together like they're all the same vapid person repeated over and over again (it doesn't help that the narrative willy-nilly swaps between their real names and nicknames), and having countless flashbacks about how "OH, this guy knows Walter from high school, but THIS GUY knows him from college!" did not interest me in the slightest. This honestly probably would've worked better as a novel. The art seems wholly pointless: at various points, there just isn't any art, and the plot is progressed by transcript of the characters speaking to each other! I just wanted something to happen, some real drama, and the way the author eventually forces a climax onto this aimless narrative is unbelievably contrived.

It doesn't help that I recently watched The Last Island, which covers a similar narrative, but with much more well-rendered characters, more interesting goings-on, and in under two hours.

American Ronin: Sort of a silly attempt at a spy thriller where it's a cyberpunk future, so characters can use DNA to 'empathize' with other characters and basically become them personality-wise (because that's stored in DNA, dontchaknow), like a speed-run of Will Graham's act in Hannibal. Conveniently, pretty much every character is a walking bundle of tics, neuroses, and fetishes, which allows someone with the 'radical empathy' superpower to instantly push someone else to suicide. If this all seems way less effective than just shooting someone (since all they use the radical empathy thing for is to kill each other), it's because the hero is really set on using this DNA thing. Almost as if this were all a leftover character concept from Milligan's X-Statix, but he lost a bet and has to play it straight.

It's interesting enough, up to a point, and not too pretentious, even with art that seems to be competing with Dave McKean to obscure rather than delineate what's going on (and this being a spy thriller, it's kinda important to be able to tell the characters apart and see what's happening and so on). But if you can suspend your disbelief enough to invest in this wacky future where everyone just has to use this empathy malarky, it wastes time well enough.

[comfortbucky]

I asked for the doctor!bucky andd you don't have to write but I forgot to ask... He is like a really busy doctor and it surprises the female reader that he is going to do her stitches... Wanda is his assistant. He has to give you a pain numbing shot in your cut and he comforts you when you scream and writh in pain... Thanks xxx

𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆｡˚

pairing: doctor!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of bloody injuries, medical settings, stitches, needles

A/N: omg i’ve never written for doctor!bucky before so i’m excited hehe :) thank u for ur request! // i changed around who was administering the numbing agent and doing the stitches btw i hope u don't mind, just made more sense in my head for bucky to be able to comfort her if his hands are free!

hope u enjoy! <3 sorry if this isn't that good asjdfhaldf

Y/L/N = your last name

also let me just indulge myself and sprinkle some of my own experiences in this bc a couple months ago i literally slammed my head into a wall and cut my eyelid😃nothing bad enough to get stitches but i do have a scar💗

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Y/N! Come quick!”

Y/N was digging through her dresser for a sweater when her roommate, Darcy, called out for her. She lifted her head up and spun it without thinking, completely forgetting that her dresser was situated in the corner of her room, slamming her head into the wall.

Her ears started to ring and she bent over in laughter, her natural response to pain, as tears threatened to fall down her face.

“Y/N?” Darcy was met by silence, Y/N struggling to respond, her body overcome with laughter so hard she was inaudible. Concerned that Y/N had knocked herself out cold, Darcy peeked her head around the corner of Y/N’s doorway, to find her hurled over, a hand over her left eye, drops of crimson blood on the ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Y/N lifted her head, calming down from her fit of laughter, and nodded.

“Yeah, of course, this would happen to me,” she replied chuckling, taking a tissue from Darcy to put pressure on her cut.

Carefully making her way to a mirror, Y/N grabbed her phone on the way. She stared at her reflection and slowly removed the tissue from her face to examine the extent of her injury. It was steadily bleeding, most likely a bad sign. Y/N placed her tissue back over her cut and reached for her phone and Facetimed her friend Matt, an EMT.

“Hello- What the fuck happened to you?”

“Hi Matt,” she replied, shooting him a grin through the screen. “Slammed my head against the wall, by accident.”

“I would hope so,” he sighed. “Let me guess, you’re wondering whether you should go to the ER or not?”

“You know me so well, Matty.”

“Has it stopped bleeding?” Y/N removed the tissue and felt a warm liquid trail down the side of her face.

“No.”

“Go to the ER, please.” She groaned.

If there was one place in the world she despised, it was a hospital. But Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to convince either of her friends otherwise, and dragged her feet as she reluctantly followed Darcy to her car.

It was a normal night in the ER, which meant a fury of organized chaos. Bucky found himself needed in 6 places, all at the same time. But this was an environment that he had become accustomed to, almost finding comfort in the madness of it all. Although the ER was bustling with patients, there weren’t any injuries that were very severe, mostly just broken bones and lacerations. Simple enough to the point where Bucky felt like he was operating on autopilot mode. Going through the motions of whatever task he needed to do, but not anything more than that. He felt numb. For the last several years of his life, the hospital was all that he knew. Bucky kept himself busy with work, leaving him with only a small social circle and his cat, Alpine. It was enough for him, but he never really felt complete. Which is why he threw himself into his work, drowning out his inner thoughts about a missing piece he never thought he’d find.

“Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 25.”

Bucky took a quick sip of his coffee and sighed before heading off to see his next patient. Wanda appeared from around the corner and started walking with him.

“This one’s a simple laceration, just might need stitches.” Bucky nodded in response to her, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

She was one of the select few who he considered a friend. Which was a little odd considering he was an attending and she was only a resident. But she was a good student, a fast learner, and one of the only residents he was ever willing to work with. He took her under his wing, fostering a friendship by spending time together in his office, reviewing various medical cases and files.

“Alright, you up to do them?”

Wanda came to a halt, Bucky taking a couple steps before looking back at her, tilting his head, waiting for a response.

“Y-Yeah, yes!” She stammered. “T-thank you, Dr. Barnes.” He nodded his head and turned back around to continue walking, Wanda close behind.

Y/N was sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding a blood-soaked tissue over her left eye. Her leg was bouncing, a nervous tic she had developed from a young age. The adrenaline had worn off, forcing her to feel a throbbing pain, her eyes brimming with tears. She avoided crying in front of people whenever possible, so as soon as Darcy left to grab some coffee and snacks from the cafeteria, she let the floodgates open. The sound of footsteps approaching made her freeze and she used her sleeves to sloppily wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

A firm, but somehow also gentle, voice called out to her before the curtain was pulled open to reveal a tall man with dark brown hair, a stubbly beard, and stunningly blue eyes standing next to a woman with blazing red hair and contrasting green eyes. Y/N’s gaze was immediately fixated on the man’s eyes, unable to look away for a moment, before she realized she was staring. She quickly looked down and cleared her throat.

“Y/N, you can just call me Y/N.”

The man nodded and set down his clipboard at the end of the bed before speaking.

“I’m Dr. Barnes and this is Dr. Maximoff.” The woman gave a slight wave as she began charting on a computer. “Can I take a look at your eye?”

Y/N nodded, feeling her anxiety rise as the doctor pulled some gloves on and approached her.

He pulled over a stool to sit on and carefully removed the tissue that Y/N had been holding in place to assess the injury. While Bucky looked at her cut, he stole a glance to study the rest of her face. He couldn't help but take note of the pained look on her face, her eyes still watery and her button nose red from crying. It was the first time in a long time that he felt a twinge of pain while looking at someone's injury, that he felt practically anything at all during a shift. She felt his warm breaths on her face for a moment before he pulled away and replaced her bloody tissue with some gauze.

“Do you mind if she takes a look as well?” Y/N nodded again. Bucky got up from the stool, allowing Wanda to take his spot and assess her eye.

“So it looks like you just need 2 or 3 stitches, very simple procedure.”

Y/N felt her entire body tense up at Wanda's conclusion. She could barely stand sitting in a hospital bed alone and now she was about to get poked and prodded with needles. Bucky noticed and attempted to ease her worries.

"We'll administer a numbing agent, so you won't feel any pain, just pressure at the site."

She looked up at Bucky, who had a kind, tired expression on his face. It looked like he was having a long night and she didn't want to make his job any more difficult than it probably already was. Y/N gave him a small nod and Wanda started to gather the necessary supplies.

She laid back in bed with Wanda and Bucky sitting next to each other on her left. Her hands were folded on her stomach, eyes shut.

"You're gonna feel a slight pinch, okay?" She nodded and bit her lip to try and distract herself.

Wanda proceeded to administer the numbing shot and Y/N squeezed her hands tight, whimpering in pain. Bucky observed the pained expression on her face and placed a hand on her forearm, reflexively rubbing his thumb in small circles. When Wanda pulled the needle out, Y/N slowly fluttered her eyes open and was greeted by Bucky's warm smile. A blush crept to her cheeks and she turned her attention to the ceiling. Immediately, Bucky realized how unprofessional his action was and removed his hand. He had no idea what had come over him, but he'd never felt so drawn to someone like this before.

"Now I'm going to do the stitches, okay? You should just feel a slight pressure." Just as before, Y/N shut her eyes after Wanda spoke and gripped her hands tight. She felt the pressure that Wanda was talking about and couldn't help but squirm at the feeling. Another wave of anxiety rushed over her and she felt herself start to hyperventilate.

Wanda removed the needle and quickly turned to Bucky, a panicked look on her face. He gave her a reassuring look before speaking softly.

"Y/N? Do you think you could hold still for just a little longer?" She opened her eyes, brimming with tears.

"Sorry, I just, I hate needles." Y/N fiddled with her hands as she kept her gaze up, trying to avoid the tears from escaping. Bucky felt his heart sink in his chest at the sight.

"What do you think would help you relax?"

Thoughts ran through her head as she tried to find a solution to relieve her anxiety. Y/N thought back to when she was young and chuckled, remembering a stuffed whale that she got at an aquarium, that went everywhere with her.

"This is stupid but, when I was a kid, I would carry around this stuffed animal around and it helped to hold it whenever I had to get shots."

Bucky thought for a moment and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he was going to regret the words about to leave his mouth.

"You could hold my hand."

Y/N and Wanda both looked at him with surprised expressions, regret instantly hitting him.

"If you're comfortable with it," he quickly clarified. Y/N felt the corner of her mouth curve into a smile as she nodded.

She laid back down and Bucky took her hand in his. The instant transfer of heat soothed Y/N and she shut her eyes to allow Wanda to get to work.

When she felt the pressure on her eye again, her hand automatically gripped Bucky's tighter, and he squeezed it back to help calm her. Y/N focused on the callousness of his hands, how his hand seemed to fit into hers perfectly. Suddenly, she was thinking about his eyes again, those glimmering blue eyes. Blue was always a calming color for her, reminiscent of her trip to the aquarium where she got her beloved stuffed whale. As she felt Bucky's thumb gently rub the top of her hand, she realized that her whale could never provide as much comfort as he did.

Bucky felt a sense of pride as he watched the tension in Y/N's face disappear. Suddenly, he found his eyes wandering, looking at the loose strands of hair on the right side of her face, the rosiness of her cheeks, how she glowed. His heart started to palpate and Bucky realized a flame had kindled inside him. He was feeling again.

"All done!" Wanda chirped, stepping aside to let Bucky check her work. He smiled at her patted her on the back with his free hand.

"You did good." Wanda beamed and thanked him, walking away to complete her charting.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, still feeling the warmth of Bucky's hand in hers. He greeted her with a tender smile and slowly helped her up, placing his other hand on the small of her back.

"See? Wasn't that bad after all," he grinned, releasing her hand. Y/N's smile faltered, missing his touch, and nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Barnes."

"Bucky," he stated. She raised an eyebrow. "Call me Bucky."

The pair stared at each other in silence, enjoying each other's presence before the PA system snapped them both out of their trance.

"Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 16."

Bucky sighed, slowly getting up from his seat.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N."

"You too, Bucky."

He turned around and was about to pull the curtain open when he paused, turning back around to face Y/N, scratching the back of his head. It took one look at her face and Bucky knew he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"Would you like to get coffee sometime?" She beamed up at him and Bucky felt his knees go weak.

"I would like that very much." He chuckled in disbelief and smiled.

Bucky had finally found his missing piece.

[itsallyscorner]

💌 Requested by: @real-kate-bishop-aka-hawkeye

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader ft Marvel Cast

Request: Age gap! Reader is in a relationship with Sebastian Stan and they’re in a movie together that has been nominated for the Oscars. Both of them are up for best actor and actress.

a/n: I hope you like this, I’m so sorry for the long wait, love! Enjoy!💖

Double Win

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m a bit nervous. But I’m excited to be here. It’s gonna be a good night.” You reply with a smile as Sebastian squeezed your hand. The two of you were currently in the car on your way to the venue that hosted the Oscars.

“Hey, whatever happens tonight, whether we win or loose, I’m proud of you.” Sebastian says as he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to it.

You and Sebastian were both nominated for your first Oscars ever. The movie you guys both starred in has been successful in the box office and has snagged multiple nominations during awards season.

You first met Sebastian during a table read for a disclosed Marvel project. You were a new actress in the business having been in small movies and had some parts in tv shows, but being casted as Kate Bishop was your big break (I know she’s like 16 in the comics, but for the sake of this request let’s just assume the actress casted is in her 20s). You and Seb instantly clicked at the table reading. From there on a beautiful friendship formed which slowly grew into a relationship. Despite the age gap, everything you guys did together felt natural. Natural in a sense where it was familiar, as if you guys have known each other for years. When you were with him everything fell into place.

“I’m so happy that you’re finally getting recognition for your work. You work your ass off on these movies, you deserve it so much.” You admitted as he strokes your hand with his thumb. Sebastian tilts his head at you with that crooked smile on his face.

“After all, you were robbed for I, Tonya.” You added as you nudged his shoulder with yours. His smile breaks as he laughs.

“Are you still mad about that?”

“YES! Oh my god, it irritates me so much. Like how did you not get nominated for I, Tonya? You were amazing as Jeff!” You exclaimed waving your free hand in frustration.

“Well that doesn’t matter anymore. Because now, I’m nominated for a movie I starred in alongside my girl. To me, that’s all that matters.” He said as he leaned in closer to you. You hum contently as he nudges your nose with his. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful to not get any of that sinful red lipstick on his lips.

The moment was interrupted by the driver announcing that you have arrived at the venue. Before leaving the car you quickly fix your hair and make sure Sebastian didn’t have any lipstick on his lips. Sebastian buttoned up his suit and looked back at you before opening the door.

“You look beautiful, by the way. I just wanted to tell you before everyone starts shouting it at you.” He tells you with a boyish grin on his face. You playfully roll your eyes and thank him. He opens the door and you guys are met with the flashing lights and chaos of the red carpet.

🕓 Time Skip

Half an hour into the awards show and they’ve announced the awards for Best Supporting Actor and Actress. Your nerves were getting the best of you, making your leg bounce in anticipation. You tried having a few glasses of wine to help you loosen up, but it was no use. Sebastian, who had been beside you the whole night, noticed your nervous tic. He placed a reassuring hand onto your leg to help calm you down. He didn’t say anything but his silent gesture was appreciated. His hand helped ground you and tell you that he was there for you.

Chris Evans and Brie Larson walked out from backstage and entered the stage. The audience clapped as they approached the mic.

“Hello everyone! Of all the movies that have been nominated for this category tonight, something that they all have in common is a female lead who is a force of nature and captures the attention of the audience with their strong presence on screen.” Brie starts.

“Here are the nominees for Best Actress.” Chris continues as they announce the names of the nominees. As your name is announced you feel your heart beat quicken and squeeze onto Sebastian’s hand, a smile hiding your anxiousness.

When they finish the names, Brie excitedly opens the envelope. She and Chris share are look before they announce the winner.

“And the Oscar goes to..”

“(Y/n) (Y/L/N)!!” They scream into the mic.

You freeze as you hear your name. Around you the people clap and stand as you remained seated in your seat in shock. Sebastian is the one to pull you out your state of shock, leaning down and gently pulling you up.

“Baby, you won!” He exclaimed as he pulls you into his arms. You come back to your senses and wrap your arms around him quickly pulling away. You make your way up to the stage as people congratulated you as you passed by the aisle. When you approached the stairs, you hold the train of your dress to avoid pulling a Jennifer Lawrence. Chris is quick to help, lending you a hand up the stage. He hugs you and congratulates you over the audience. Brie approaches you with open arms and hands you the Oscar. The two move to the side to give you your moment. You face the crowd with a big smile, Oscar in hand.

“Thank you guys.” You start as you glance at Brie and Chris. You look back to the crowd and quickly spot Sebastian, who has the most proudest look on his face.

“This is unbelievable, I can’t believe this is happening! I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a little kid.” You mused as you looked at the Oscar gleaming in the light.

“I guess I should start by thanking the Academy. Thank you for this opportunity. Thank you to the cast and crew who have been part of this movie’s journey I love every single one of you. Thanks to my team, who have been so kind and supportive to me from the start and have helped me get to this moment. To my family, I owe you all so much you have been so supportive of me and pushed me to follow my dreams and have been there every step of the way. Also, to the women who were nominated alongside of me tonight, you guys are amazing and continue to inspire me to become as talented as you all are. Lastly, I want to thank a special person. My co-star in this movie, my best friend, biggest supporter, my rock, my lover. Sebastian you have done nothing but been there for me through thick and thin. I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve someone as special as you, but I’m thankful that I have you. Without you I don’t know how I would survive in the madness of this, I love you.” You looked at Sebastian through blurred eyes as you made your speech.

“Thank you!” You finished as you excitedly held the Oscar up in the air. The usher instructed you to stand by the side as Brie and Chris walked to the mic.

“And now for Best Actor!” Chris says as they announce the nominees. When Sebastian’s name was called you clapped and cheered as he gave the camera a shy smile.

“And the Oscar goes to!”

“SEBASTIAN STAN!” They announce, Chris screaming it a bit louder than Brie. You gasp and clap as you see Sebastian being congratulated by your fellow co-stars and director. He makes his way up to the stage instantly looking for your eyes. A giant smile is on your face as your eyes connect. He’s hugged by Brie and Chris. Chris moves to hand him the award but Sebastian is already striding towards you. The audience laughs at Chris’ reaction. Meanwhile Sebastian brings his hand to cradle your face and pulls you into a passionate kiss. The crowd cheers and whistles as you wrap your free arm around him. For a moment it feels like it’s just you two in the whole venue. You pull away, lovingly smiling at each other.

“Go get that Oscar, champ.” You teased and nudge him towards Chris, who claps him on the back as soon he approaches him.

“Sorry, got caught in the moment.” He chuckled making the audience laugh.

“Man, I—. This is just an honor, thank you so much for this. I don’t know what I did to get here, but thank you so much. Thank you to the Academy. Thank you to the cast and crew who’ve worked hard day and night to make this amazing movie the way it is. My team, thank you for dealing with me, I appreciate it. I wanna say a very special thank you to two of the most important women in my life. My mother, who sacrificed so much to give me a better life, I’m up on this stage because of you. I love you and I’ll make sure to give you a call as soon as I’m home. I think you guys know who the other woman is.” He exclaims as he turns to you with a twinkle in his eyes, the crowd cheering him on.

“When I say this I’m being dead serious. I’m gonna marry that woman one day.” Sebastian points at you making the crowd go wild. You laugh, looking down as your face turns 50 shades of red.

“(Y/n), you keep me going everyday. You inspire me to better myself and become a better man. For the two years we’ve been together, you’ve been beside me through it all and I just want to thank you for everything you do. You’re my safe place, I love you.” He said while looking at you the entire time. He thanks everyone again before the music begins to play.

🕓 Time Skip

As the show came to an end everyone headed towards the after party. The cast and crew of your movie celebrated over champagne, some speeches, a little crying, and lots of hugs. The whole night Sebastian never left your side, his hand was either around your waist or the small of your back. Constantly whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pressed kisses to your face.

“Seb! (Y/n)!” You and Sebastian turned to the voice to see Chris pushing through the crowd along with Scarlett and Brie.

“Hey!” You greet them as you all pull each other into hugs.

“Congratulations you two! You must be on cloud nine!” Scarlett said as she squeezed you as tight as she can.

“The look on your face when you won, oh my goodness! Priceless!” Brie laughs as she held onto your arm.

“I honestly can’t believe it! It’s just so surreal like what the fuck? I’m still processing it!” You rambled, eyes wide with shock. The two laughed at your reaction.

“I’m guessing Seb is gonna be getting some as soon as you guys get home?” Scarlett teased. You rolled your eyes glancing at Seb who was talking to Chris and Samuel L. Jackson. He caught your eye and sent a quick wink towards you.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Scarlett.” You winked at the blonde. Your name is suddenly being called across the room by Chris.

“When’s the wedding?” He asked, a few feet away from you and the girls.

“As soon as he gets the ring!” You answer teasingly making Seb blush. Chris turns back to Sebastian pointing at you.

“You heard the lady, Seb.”

“Who says I don’t already have the ring?” Sebastian shot back making everyone sound like a bunch of teenagers.

When you guys got back home, you and Sebastian celebrated in the early hours of the morning between the sheets. When you wake up the next day you see a blue Tiffany’s box paired with a rose resting on Sebastian’s side of the bed.

And you said yes.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-Jeon Jungkook

You never expected to see him again-let alone date him-but here you are, five years after first meeting him, and now you’re pretty sure you’re in love with Jeon Jungkook. He’s always been sweet, and clever, and somewhat quiet, and he’s definitely always been this good looking, however, there’s something different about him now-and it’s not that he’s really into Tiktok challenges and speaks all the millennial slang fluently. No, it’s something you can’t quite put your finger on. Something that makes you more intrigued in Jeon Jungkook than ever before. The same something that seems to have him staring at you intently whenever he thinks you’re not looking, as if he’s just waiting to kiss you- or more accurately, to taste you. 

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, Fluff, Jeon Jungkook, BTS!Vampires, Bangtan!Vampires, Vampire AU, Vampire Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook x you, Jungkook x reader, 

Genre: Fluff

Title: Theories of a Vampire

“Do you want a sip of this? It’s really good.” You ask your boyfriend as you take another sip of your iced mocha latte, tilting your head in his direction, offering him a mischievous smile as you shove the drink toward him. 

“Ah, no. I’m good.” Jungkook hurries to say, and his tongue slides out to wet his lips, as he glances away from you and stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket. “I’m not thirsty.” 

“Suit yourself.” You shrug and take another gulp of the drink, sliding your hand into his-icy fingers cold against his own which are long and warm in your grasp-as you continue to walk through the park. 

It’s a pretty day. Warm, the air losing a bit of its chill, and you’re glad you had agreed to skip the last half of work to spend it with Jungkook. 

Speaking of.

Glancing over at your boyfriend once more, his brow furrowed as if he’s lost in deep thought, you nudge his side, and when he finally focuses back on you, you raise a brow at him curiously. “You okay? What are you thinking so hard about?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugs off your question and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck with his free hand, a nervous tic he always did, and had done since you had first met him in your biology class freshman year of college. 

You pull him to a stop, and shoot him a stern look, as you toss your now empty cup into a nearby trash can. “Jeon Jungkook. You’re worried about something. Tell me what.” 

“I’m not worried per say-” Jungkook starts to protest, and at your fierce expression, backtracks slightly, letting out a defeated sigh as he glances up at the filtered sunlight streaming down on the two of you. “Okay, fine. It’s a big deal for the hyungs to invite you to eat with us, and I’m just nervous okay?” 

You arch a brow at him, and reach out for his free hand, taking both in your own, as you pull him toward you, and lean up to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose. “Why? You think they won’t like me? Come on, Kookie, what’s not to like?” You tease gently, fingers stroking across the skin that covers the backs of his knuckles as you wait for his reply. 

“Of course they’ll like you.” Jungkook blurts out, and he screws his eyes shut momentarily, wrinkling his nose in the adorable way he does when he’s agitated, the way that makes him look like a bunny. He opens his eyes once more, and looks down at you, before he sighs and admits quietly, “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me.” 

His statement is odd, but you don’t question it. At least not out loud. 

Because Jungkook has changed a bit since you first met him-changed a lot actually. 

When the two of you had met that fateful day in biology class, becoming lab partners first, and then friends later, Jungkook had been introverted, but polite and sweet and someone you wanted to befriend. He had stuttered his words when he was nervous or excited and had had the biggest, brown, doe eyes you had ever seen. 

And now-years later-after losing contact and reconnecting and discovering that there might be some sort of truth to the bullshit that is best friends to lovers tropes-Jungkook was not the same. 

He was still sweet and quiet and thought before he spoke, and he still stuttered when he got excited, but he wasn’t the same boy you had met all those years ago. 

No, something was different about Jeon Jungkook-he was heavier, a little more serious, and definitely more responsible than before-and you attributed most of those changed personality traits to simply maturity and growth. 

However. 

There was something about Jungkook-the new Jungkook-that had you constantly fighting the urge to be with him constantly-like a moth drawn to a flame. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching-those big, doe brown eyes large and dark with blown pupils and some sort of emotion that made your stomach warm pleasantly with desire-it was dangerous. 

And you were helpless in the face of whatever it was. Whoever he was. 

You pull yourself back to the present, only to find said subject of your deep thoughts watching you in the way you had just been imagining, and you have to look away, look at something else, before those endless eyes swallow you whole and you lose yourself completely. 

You clear your throat, and tug at his hand, resuming your walk through the park. “Kookie, you live with them. They’re your roommates. I’m sure they won’t judge you if you act a little stupid around your girlfriend.” 

“Wait. I act stupid around you?” Jungkook jogs to match your pace, and you hear the offense in his voice, as you tuck your emerging smile back behind the barrier of your lips and turn to face him, walking backwards, as you force down a giggle at the affronted look he gives you. 

Damn. He’s so cute. 

“Only sometimes.” You quip back, and as he opens his mouth to protest once more, you reach out and tap the end of his nose with your fingertip, effectively shutting him up, as you let out a laugh and continue walking, swinging your joined hands between you.

*******

The first thing you think as Jungkook pulls you up the sidewalk toward his apartment later that night is-Holy shit, what do these guys do for work? 

Because this is not a typical, six guys living together out of college, run down, bad neighborhood housing unit. 

No, this is a penthouse, in a gated community, and you’re fairly certain there’s the shimmer of a pool out back beneath the moonlight. 

The second coherent thought you have-as Jungkook leads you inside, and you’re greeted by his six male roommates is-Holy shit, how are they all so hot?

And you’re pretty sure your mouth is gaping open as each of them greet you and introduce themselves in turn, before escorting you both to the dining room-an actual old timey dining room-where dinner waits. 

And now, here you are, sitting at the long table with Jungkook on your right and one of the boys on your left-the one who seems to be just the right mix of extremely handsome and mischievous, Taehyung?-raising a bite of the opening course of soup to your lips. 

Damn. It’s delicious. 

Your eyes go wide, and the man across from you-the blonde one, tall and looking like a movie star, Seokjin?-offers you the hint of a smile, as he arches a brow in your direction and asks, “Enjoying the food, (Y/N)?” 

“Immensely.” You say, and you can’t stop yourself from taking another bite. 

Seokjin chuckles, the sound pleasant and soothing, and then bows his head slightly in your direction, and you can’t help but notice how small the spoon looks in his large fingers. “That’s a compliment then, so I should thank you.” 

“You made this?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and a few of the other boys stop mid quiet conversations to glance over at you with amused expressions on their beautiful faces. 

You blush, but luckily, Jungkook comes to your rescue, his hand finding yours beneath the table, as he leans over and says proudly, “Jin-hyung is one of the best cooks around. He can make anything taste great.” 

“I believe that.” You nod, already hungrily diving back into the delicious bowl of soup before you without a second thought, missing the look of fond amusement that crosses Jungkook’s dark eyes as he watches you. 

Also missing to note-perhaps more important-that your bowl of soup is the only one that seems to be lessening in contents. 

*****

Later, you are sitting beside Jungkook on one of the couches in the den, legs crossed beneath you, as you sip some sweet, candied cocktail Seokjin had made you all, and as the alcohol warms your veins, and the men around you chatter and laugh quietly amongst themselves, you feel slightly more comfortable than you had at the beginning of the night. 

“So.” You glance over at your boyfriend, as his arm comes to rest on the couch behind you, and he eyes you over the cocktail glass still held to your lips. “What do you think?” 

“What do I think?” You repeat back, lowering the glass, and your voice, as you scoot into his side, and lean your head on his shoulder, surveying the room for a moment before answering. Dammit. They’re all still too handsome for your liking. You’d thought a few drinks would tone down their good looks just a little. “What do I think?” You parrot once more, and jab Jungkook in the side, as he yelps and winces beside you. “I think you should have warned me that all your roommates are just as smoking as you, Jeon Jungkook.” 

You grin at him, ready to make a teasing jab about how they may be even more handsome than him, when the two of you are interrupted by Taehyung plopping down on the couch beside Jungkook, jostling you both. 

“Come on, Kookie.” The older man practically whines, throwing his own arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, as he leans around his broad form and flashes you a charming smile. “You can’t hog all of (Y/N)’s time. You get to bask in her beauty all day every day. Let some of us have a turn.” 

You bite back a grin, because you’ve met men like Kim Taehyung before. They are irresistibly charming, and smooth, and all together too incredibly hot to exist, yet you know they mean no harm with their slick words and damning good looks. 

“Ask away, Hyung.” Jungkook sighs between the two of you, and leans his head back on the couch in a gesture of defeat as he motions to Taehyung. “I know you’re going to question her anyway. Get it over with.” 

“Yah. That’s a good boy.” Taehyung slaps Jungkook’s shoulder, and the sound is solid, and you don’t miss the way Jungkook winces under the powerful looking show of brotherhood as Taehyung leans out once more to make eye contact with you. “So, (Y/N).” 

“Yes, Taehyung?” You shoot back, not intimidated by his presence or confidence now that you’ve had a few drinks in your system. 

Taehyung grins, and you note a slight hint of approval in his dark eyes, before he curbs his expression and steeples long fingers before plush lips. “How’d you and Kookie here meet?” 

“College.” You say simply, shrugging, as you set your empty cocktail glass to the side, and glance at Jungkook, whose dark eyes are full of dread, as if he’s waiting for his hyung to ask something ridiculous and embarrass both of you. “Freshman year.” 

“And you’re just now together?” Taehyung asks with shock in his deep tone, eyes widening slightly as he glances between the two of you, as if he can’t believe it took you so long to realize you were interested in each other. 

“Well, yeah.” Jungkook shrugs now, a blush darkening his cheeks, and he bites his lip in that way you love, though right now, it’s less cute and more worried, as he chews his bottom lip between his teeth. “We lost touch for awhile.” 

One of the other men-the smaller, petite one, who looks too pretty to be real, Jimin?-appears behind Taehyung and perches himself on the arm of the couch, listening in on your conversation with a cute, delicate tilt of his head that sends his dangling silver earrings tinkling in a fairylike way. 

Taehyung snorts in amusement at Jungkook’s words. “So what you mean to say is you were too much of a dense idiot to notice her sooner.” 

Jungkook straightens beside you and glares at the older man, and suddenly, you’re slightly worried he might deck him, but luckily, Jimin jumps into the conversation just in time. 

“Tae.” He slaps the man’s shoulder, and Taehyung glances back at him, as Jimin’s features contort into a look of disapproval. “Don’t tease Kookie.” 

“Fine.” Taehyung sighs, and you are surprised how easy it was for Jimin to put him in his place, considering Taehyung is probably three inches taller and at least ten pounds heavier than the fairyesque man sitting on the arm of the couch. 

Jimin offers you a smile, and you don’t miss the way his eyes crease with the expression, as he says in a soft, lilting tone, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). We’ve heard a lot.” 

Jungkook blushes once more beside you, and you laugh at his obvious discomfort, reaching out for his hand which is still balled in his lap. 

“What we haven’t heard though-” Taehyung leans forward again, once more on the attack, and offers the two of you a raise of his brow and the slight hint of smirk on his full lips. “Is if you guys have done it yet.” 

“Taehyung.” Jimin sighs in exasperation and rolls his eyes. 

“Hyung!” Jungkook almost shouts out, drawing the attention of the older men, conversing with each other about something in the other corner of the room. His face reddens, and he lowers his voice, hissing out, “You can’t ask stuff like that.” 

“So that’s a no?” Taehyung quips, settling back into the couch, his legs crossed, as he regards you both with an air of amusement and aloofness. He holds your gaze, and you don’t back down, as his eyes move over your face, before he states suggestively, “Well, be careful when you do, (Y/N). Jungkookie’s really into biting.” 

And then he has the audacity to raise his brows at you in a gloating smirk, and send you a wink from across the couch. 

“HYUNG!” Jungkook is practically fire red now, and you are trying to hold back a laugh, knowing he’s legitimately embarrassed now under his roommate’s constant teasing. 

However. There it is again-buried deep within the black of his pupils-the look of absolute guttural want that sometimes washes over Jungkook’s features when he thinks you’re not looking, flashing across his irises at his roommate’s words.

“Do you always ask all of your roommates girlfriends these types of questions?” You retort, suddenly desperate to ignore the flaming feeling Jungkook’s brief express had lit in your belly, raising a curious eyebrow in the now lounging Taehyung’s direction. 

He flashes you another wink and a boxy smile. “Only the hot ones.” 

“Taehyung.” 

A deep voice sounds behind you, booming in the small space, and you jump slightly, whirling around to see Namjoon standing, arms crossed over his chest, shooting a serious look at the younger man. 

“That’s enough.” 

Taehyung pouts, but ducks his head to the older man and grumbles out, “Yes, hyung.” 

You had been right about the aura you got from Namjoon from the beginning after all. He’s beautiful, and tall, and has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, but his features are set in a serious, mature way, and now-seeing how Taehyung reacts to his commands-you know that he’s the one in charge, at least in this house. 

“I hope they haven’t pestered you too much, (Y/N).” Namjoon motions toward Taehyung and Jimin, and offers you the hint of what you think is a smile, revealing a hollow dimple in his upper cheek, which catches you off guard. 

“Not at all.” You stumble over your words in your hurry to answer him, because the man standing before you makes you feel small and obedient and it’s almost as if your brain is begging to do whatever will please him. “It was all in good fun.” 

Namjoon nods, and then glances over your head, addressing your boyfriend. “Jungkook. It’s getting late. You should probably see (Y/N) home.” 

Jungkook rises without argument. “Right.” 

You are shocked, you have never seen Jungkook so quick to do what someone asks, and as you pull on your coat and say goodbye to each of the six men with who you have spent the evening, there is a part of you that wonders if roommates are not the only thing these men are to each other. 

*******

It is several days later, sitting in your own lackluster apartment, that you find out the truth to your questions from the night spent with Jungkook and his six mysterious, all too good looking, roommates. 

“(Y/N), come here for a sec!” 

You hear Jungkook calling to you from down the hallway, and pushing your reading glasses atop your head, and setting aside the work you are plugging away at, you follow his voice to your bedroom, where he is laying on the bed, staring at his phone. 

“What?” You ask, leaning against the door frame, letting yourself admire for a moment the swath of tan skin that peeks from beneath his hoodie, stretched across his muscular abdomen. 

“Do this TikTok trend with me.” Jungkook replies without looking at you, swiping through something you can’t see on his phone. 

“Kookie, no.” You complain, crossing the room to plop down on the bed beside him, as you glance at what he’s looking at. Some sort of new TikTok video with fang filters and gold eyes.”You know I don’t like being in your videos. I don’t want to.” 

“Come on.” Jungkook looks at you then, wide doe eyes dark with pleading, lips pulled into his teeth in a pout expression that makes you weak at the knees. “Just this once. Please?” 

You try to resist. You really do. But dammit, you can’t say no to those large eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, staring at you in such a way. 

“Damn you, Jeon.” You grumble out, and Jungkook grins triumphantly, because at those words and the sullen expression on your face, he knows he has won. 

You lie down flat on your back beside him on the small bed and squint your eyes as you glance up at his phone, your own face suddenly reflected back at you in garish light. 

“What do we have to do?” You ask reluctantly, careful not to stare at your reflection too long, instead, choosing to glance at Jungkook’s face shown back to you on the camera, the way his dark, long hair shadows his eyes, the way his pink lips are pursed as he gets the angle just right. 

“It’s really simple.” Jungkook shifts beside you, and his long finger taps the phone screen, placing the filter over the video, before he glances to the side and shoots you a grin-a grin so soft and excited that you can’t help but melt into the idea of the video just a little bit. “Vampires are really in right now. And basically, this filter shows you what you’d look like as one. See?” 

He shifts the phone-still held above your heads-and you glance at the two of you, now with gleaming golden irises and long sharp fangs that poke past your overly red lips. 

“I hate this.” You sigh out, and Jungkook chuckles from beside you, shifting the phone so that the filter falls away from you both for a moment, as he rises to his elbow beside you on the bed. 

He smells good-like cologne and fresh, clean linens, and the shampoo he uses in the shower. 

“C’mon, jagi. Just one video. For me.” Jungkook’s lips twitch, as if he wants to smile a the pout that comes across your features. He leans down and surprises you by kissing you briefly on the lips. “I promise if you do this with me, and be a good sport-” He adds, giving you a pointed look, as you sight once more. “I’ll make it worth it.” 

“How?” You quip back, though your stomach is fluttering at how close he is, and the buzzing hasn’t left your lips from when his mouth covered yours for the briefest of moments. You swallow, and try to look anywhere but those eyes-eyes that make you want to fall in and never come back out. “You’ll buy me boba?” 

“Yes.” Jungkook nods, agreeing too quickly, and reaches out to tap the end of your nose with his index finger, an odd look coming across his face. “Among other things.” 

Before you can ask him what he means, and why his words have suddenly sent your heart racing, he is lying back down beside you, and holding up the phone once more. “Okay, let’s go.” 

The video clicks to life, the filter turning you both into sad replicas of the vampires from Twilight, and Jungkook grins in his reflection on the screen, as he tilts his head toward you and asks, “What do you know about vampires, (Y/N)?” 

“Yah.” You scoff and roll your eyes, but remembering his promise, force yourself to look into the camera and continue with the video. “You didn’t tell me this was a pop quiz, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“It’s not.” Jungkook shrugs beside you, and you have to admit, his white teeth flashing behind pink lips look oddly enticing with the sharp points of the fangs pricking the plush skin. “It’s just for fun. Vampires. Go.” 

You sigh, but do as he asks. “Fine. Vampires.” You hold up your hand for the camera to see, and begin ticking down fingers as you list in a slightly flat, bored tone. “Vampires are allergic to garlic.” 

“Wrong.” Jungkook pipes up beside you, and you are startled, so much so, that you lose concentration and flick your eyes to him, forgetting about the video momentarily. 

He raises a brow at you and motions with his head toward the phone, as if telling you silently to go on. 

You try to refocus, stuttering slightly over your words. “Okay, um, vampires can’t enter a house uninvited.” 

“That’s not true either.” Jungkook interjects, and you flash him a glare, warning him to stop interrupting you, and wondering how he knows all of this enough to argue with you. 

“Fine.” You hiss out, and your eyes flash beneath the gold of the filter, as you turn back to the camera, starting to rapid fire off the rest of your list so your boyfriend can’t stop you to tell you how wrong you are again. “They can’t tolerate holy water, crosses burn them, sunlight hurts their skin, they can morph into bats, and they have no reflections.” 

You catch your breath, confident that you’ve beat him. 

“Inaccurate, false, entirely a myth, purely laughable-” Jungkook starts to list point blank from beside you, and you can feel the daggers you throw in his direction, as he pointedly ignores you and finishes up his smug commentary. “And last but not least, stupid as hell.” 

He turns to you, and meets your gaze, dodging the daggers completely before he shoots you a shit eating grin. 

“Fu-” You start to swear in frustration, and then you hear the video sound signal that the camera has been turned off. 

“You can’t swear in my TikTok video, babe. What will my followers think?” Jungkook, who has come to a sitting position beside you, looks over at you with dramatically horrified eyes and a berating smirk on his face, a look that you’d like to wipe right off his lips. 

“You asked me what I knew about vampires!” You protest hotly, coming to a cross legged position beside him, as you run a hand through your hair with jerky agitation. “And then you basically told me it was all bullshit!” You take in a deep breath, feeling yourself calm slightly. “Which is true, I guess, because vampires aren’t real, but still.” 

“I mean-” Jungkook finishes up doing something with the video and then locks his phone, tossing it onto the nightstand, as he meets your gaze once more, with a suddenly thoughtful look crossing his features. “Technically, not all of it is bullshit.” 

“Oh really?” You let out a humorless bark of laughter, and cross your arms over your chest as you glare at him. “Please. Tell me what’s true then.” 

“Vampires can’t cross running water.” Suddenly, Jungkook looks sheepish, and though the expression is cute, and softens your ire toward him, you’re not sure why. “That’s true.” 

“What?” You ask, slightly dumbfounded, staring at him. “That’s a thing?” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks, a slight question, confusion crossing his pretty features once more at your look of surprise. “You didn’t know that?” 

“I mean-” You shrug, and suddenly you’re on the verge of laughing. “No? I guess I never got around to studying vampire theory when we were in college.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, sitting silently across from you on the bed. “But apparently you did. How do you know all of this? Is my boyfriend secretly a closet nerd?” 

“I-” Jungkook starts to say, and then his words falter to a stop, and as you watch, his eyes get that look again-dark and slightly wild and hungry-and his gaze falls down your face to your lips in a way that has your heart pounding against your rib cage like a trapped bird. “(Y/N), there’s something you need to know.” 

“Okay-” You say, suddenly nervous, but unable to think or even wonder what he’s going to drop on you when he’s still staring at you as if he’s starving and you’re the last meal in the world. 

“I-” He starts again, and your eyes follow the movement as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them red and shining, and your heart more breathless than ever. He reaches up to rake a hand through his dark, thick hair, and his movements are agitated, which doesn’t seem to fit the mood that fills the air between the two of you. 

“Just don’t-” He tries again, and huffs out a frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze once more, and suddenly the tension between you is gone, his wide eyes back to normal. “Just don’t freak out, okay?” 

You swallow, and your fingers start to fiddle with the blanket between the two of you, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “Okay.” You say, for the second time, in as many minutes. 

You watch as Jungkook takes in a deep, steadying breath, and you prepare yourself for the words, ready to hear the words, ready to feel the cut. 

He’s cheated on you. He’s breaking up with you. He’s found someone else. He’s in love with Taehyung, or Jimin, and hell, who would blame him? 

“I’m a vampire.” 

Your eyes, screwed shut and waiting for the bomb, come open so fast that you feel dizzy for a moment, and you’re pretty sure your jaw drops to the floor. 

And then, you’re laughing, because you’re sure he’s joking. 

“No, seriously, Kookie, funny joke, but what is it?” You reach out, shoving him playfully in the shoulder, relieved laughter still trickling from between your lips. 

“I am serious.” Jungkook watches you laugh, confusion on his face at your reaction. 

“Vampires aren’t real, babe.” You manage to straighten your face and turn to him once more, eyebrows arched curiously as you stare at him. “What are you talking about? You’re joking. Right?” 

The silence grows between you after your question, and suddenly, your heart drops into your stomach. 

“Wait-” You begin to say, inching away from him to the other side of the bed, because suddenly, you’re very worried that Jungkook isn’t right in the head. “You really think you’re a vampire?” 

“I am a vampire.” Jungkook sighs out impatiently, reaching up to pinch his nose briefly between his thumb and forefinger, as he closes his eyes and takes in another deep breath. “(Y/N), that’s what I’m telling you. When we lost touch-” 

“No.” You stand up, suddenly shaking your head, your heart still pounding, but for a different reason now. “This is crazy talk, Jungkook. You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” He stands and you square off across from each other in your small bedroom, the late afternoon sun shining onto the carpet and creating patterns in the space between you. Space that feels too far to overcome. “I’m not making this up, jagi. After college, I got into an accident and Namjoon found me and-” 

“Namjoon?” You scoff out, not believing your ears, as you stare at your boyfriend incredulously. “Now you’re trying to tell me your roommates are in on this crazy bullshit too?” 

“They’re not my roommates.” Jungkook replies seriously, eyes holding yours, pupils large and black. “They’re my coven. They took me in after saving my life by turning me.” 

“Nope.” You pop the word past your lips and push past him toward the open door. “I’m out. You’re crazy, man.” 

You hear Jungkook follow you down the hallway toward the bathroom. 

“(Y/N), will you please just listen to me-” 

“Get out of my apartment, Jungkook.” You shout back, reaching the safety of the bathroom,, already moving to slam the door shut on his face, but managing to get out through the shrinking crack, “Don’t come back until you’re ready to stop being insane.” 

You wait to hear the door crash into the lock, the sound of the clicking doorknob sealing you into the room, the final thump of Jungkook’s feet as he walks away and leave. 

But none of that happens. 

Because Jungkook has blocked the door from closing with his hand, and holy shit, is he strong. 

“Jungkook-” You warn, pushing against the door, as he manages to push himself inside the small bathroom with you. “Get. Out.” 

“No.” 

You look up at him in surprise-you’ve never heard him this serious, this firm before-and his eyes are dark, and his lips are set into a thin line, hand still holding open the partially closed door, wide shoulders filling the frame. 

“What?” You gasp out, anger starting to bubble its way into your chest. 

“I said no.” Jungkook repeats and takes a step toward you, backing you toward the bathtub that takes up one side of the room. “I need you to listen to me.” 

“I am listening to you!” You shriek, almost hysterical, as you feel your back hit the dingy, thin fabric of the shower curtain you and Jungkook had bought together at a local secondhand store. “You’re not listening to yourself, Jungkook. Because all this talk is batshit crazy.” Your knees hit the edge of the hidden tub. “Vampires?” You stare hard at him, and he’s so close, you can smell the hint of his soap. “Accidents? Covens??” 

“It’s true! All of it.” Jungkook blurts out, and his voice is frantic now, and pleading, as his eyes rove the space of the shower behind you, as if searching for a way to show you. “I’ll prove it to you!” 

“How?” You exclaim sharply, tired of this game. 

His doe eyes scan the room, and then he points to the shower, which you have almost entirely wedged yourself into with his forward advance, and his face brightens. “The shower.” 

“What about it?” You ask, and the situation would be comical, the two of you breathing hard and jammed into your tiny bathroom, if it were any other situation. Anything but this. Still, a little bit of the humor sneaks into your next words as the start of a hysterical laugh. “Are you going to 

Jungkook ignores you, reaching over your head for the handheld shower head, simultaneously using his other hand to turn on the hot water. 

He holds the now running head out to you expectantly, and states quietly, firmly, as if his words should mean something to you, “Vampires can’t cross running water.” 

You scoff, arms still held at your sides, and when you don’t move, your boyfriend closes the distance between you, and shoves the shower head into your hands. 

“What are you-” You start to protest, already feeling the water soaking your socks and puddling on the cheap tile of the bathroom floor, but before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook is stepping toward you once more. 

He reaches out a hand, and you note his fingers are trembling, which seems odd, but before you can think about it too much, his hand flattens against an invisible barrier, fingers splayed now for you to see, as he meets your gaze once more. 

“That doesn’t prove anything, you could be faking.” You snap out, although suddenly, your heart has sped up in your chest, and your own hand is shaking, making the water from the shower trail crazy patterns on the floor at your feet. 

You shove your own hand out toward Jungkook-a little too hard-and he winces slightly as you jab him in the face. 

“Sorry.” You apologize, pulling your hand back, and study him for a moment. “Do it again.” 

“Look.” Jungkook sighs, and stepping toward you once more, holds out his hand, pressing it up against the invisible glass pane, before he shifts his whole body up against the barrier. “I’m not faking, (Y/N).” 

And suddenly, your breath is catching in your throat, because even through the steamy bathroom, you can see. You can see that the way his clothes fold, and the way his fingers splay, the way his hair flattens against his forehead, as if pushed against a window, is not fake. 

And that means-

“Holy shit.” You breathe out, lowering the shower wand, as you stare at your boyfriend, water puddled around your feet, mouth open in shock. “You’re a vampire.” 

He offers you the hint of a crooked, humorless smile. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” 

*******

Jungkok sighs from beside you, and turns his head to look at you, for what feels like the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “Will you stop staring at me?” 

“Sorry.” You shrug, propping yourself up on your elbow, as you reach out to poke first his cheek, and then his lips. “It’s just so fascinating. Like. You’re a whole ass vampire. My boyfriend. The vampire.” 

“Stop saying it like that.” Jungkook groans, throwing a hand over his eyes as you giggle in amusement. “Stop saying it like it’s my superhero name or something.” 

“Fine.” You grin, reaching out to push his hand away from his eyes, before you let your fingers fall to his mouth, flipping back his lip slightly, so the start of his white teeth show, as sudden childish excitement fills your tone. “Can I see your fangs?” 

“Really?” Jungkook asks with exasperation, propping himself up beside you, as he shoots you a look of slight frustration. 

“Yeah!” You nod, bouncing beside him slightly on the bed. “That’s like, the biggest thing to being a vampire right? I wanna see them!” 

“I mean, not the biggest thing-”Jungkook starts to grumble beneath his breath, but you’re on top of him, straddling him so your knees hug his hips, and your hands sink into the pillow beneath his head. He looks up at you, eyes wide, as if startled, and when he speaks, his voice is slightly choked. “What are you doing?” 

“Do you wanna bite me, Kook?” You ask, mostly teasing, staring down at him with as mischievous look as you can muster. You don’t allow yourself to focus on how his firm body feels beneath your own. Or the fact that you’re both crammed into the space of your tiny bed, so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. 

“No!” He blurts out, almost panicked, and you feel something like disappointment drop into your chest at his reaction, and you make a move to release him from beneath you. 

But then, his fingers are encircling your wrist, stopping you from pulling away, and you’re caught off guard, as he reaches up with his free hand to caress the side of your face. 

“I mean-” Jungkook speaks again, his voice barely above a murmur, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a harder time hearing him over the sound of your blood suddenly rushing in your ears. He bites his lip, teeth stark against the soft pink flesh. “I didn’t mean that. That was a lie.” 

You try to force a lightness back into yoru voice, a lightness you don’t feel, with the air practically crackling with electricity between the two of you. “You’re telling me that was bullshit, Jeon?” 

He nods, and you see the way his throat bobs as he swallows. “Yeah, that was bullshit.” 

“Why?” You breathe out, every last inch of teasing leaving your body as that look-the look that makes you feel weak and dizzy and hot all at once-floods fully into the caramel irises of Jungkook’s eyes, turning them dark and dangerous and entirely too tempting. 

“Because-” He matches your tone, words barely audible above the pounding of your heart, as his hungry eyes fall once more to your lips, and then down your throat. “I want nothing more than to taste you, (Y/N).” His chest, steady beneath your body, heaves as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I’ve wanted nothing more since I saw you again-that day in the park. The way you smell, the way your pulse flutters beneath my touch, the way your heartbeat sounds-too loud in my ears-it all drives me insane, and I swear, I’d kill for a chance to bite you. Just once. But I-” 

Jungkook shakes his head as his words trail off, and his pupils constrict a bit, enough to show a ring of color around his eyes once more. 

“But what?” You ask, and your mouth feels dry, because you’re scared of what he’s going to say. You try lightness again, because you’re both struggling. “And don’t give me some Twilight bullshit, Kook, because I swear to God I’ll kill you. And then break up with you.” 

He huffs out a strained laugh, mouth tight, and worried wrinkles around his eyes, and his fingers loosen slightly on your wrist, as he reaches up once more to brush some stray hairs back from your face. “Nah, like I said, most cliche vampire myths aren’t true, and definitely not the ones perpetuated by Twilight.” He sighs, and sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I can control myself, I won’t hurt you, I won’t turn into an animal. One taste won’t give me an insatiable thirst for human blood. It’s nothing like that.” 

“So what is it?” You ask, suddenly curious, trying to focus through the feeling of his fingers now dancing patterns on the bare skin of your side beneath your shirt. 

“I-” His mouth drops open, allowing the word to start, but not finish, and he rolls his eyes, suddenly self deprecating. “It’s stupid actually.” 

You stare at him, and when you don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, he lets out another long sigh and then reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. 

“It’s just that-” He swallows again, and you find your gaze drawn to his lips, the way they move to form his words, the way they would fit perfectly around a pair of long white fangs, the way they would feel against your skin, and you’re so distracted, that you almost miss what he says next. “You’re my first.” 

“What?” You ask, pure confusion lacing your tone, as you force yourself to meet his gaze once more, a gaze now awash in worry and embarrassment. “Your first what?” 

“Oh god, don’t make me say it, jagi, please.” Jungkook groans out, reaching up to swipe at his eyes with his hand, as a blush paints the tan skin of his cheeks. “You’re my first......bite.” 

“Really?” The word of astonishment pops out before you can stop it, and the pink on your boyfriend’s cheeks darkens beneath the cover of his hand. You clear your throat, composing yourself, and reaching out to remove his hand, try a different angle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. It’s just-” You think hard about your words for a moment before continuing. “Haven’t you been hungry?” 

“Can we not talk about details?” Jungkook pleads, putting a palm over your mouth, as if he physically doesn’t want you to ask questions. “The hyungs kept me fed. I’m fine.” 

“Okay.” You drawl out from behind his hand, and he must feel the smile starting against his skin, because he pulls away from you, but you stop him by pinning him beneath your body, as you hold his gaze. “Fine. So let’s not talk then.” 

Your eyes follow the bob of Jungkook’s throat as he takes in the full meaning of your words, and behind the slight uncertainty that flashes across his eyes, you see something else. 

The desire. 

You lean down, and your lips are almost brushing when you speak again, and the heat in Jungkook’s eyes, alighting the gold specks, is causing coils of anticipation in your core. 

“Do you want to bite me, Kook?” You ask once more, completely serious this time. 

His tongue licks across his lips, and the warmth of his breath washes across your face, as his eyes fall to your mouth, barely centimetres from his own. 

He nods. “Yes.” 

“So stop thinking-” You let your fingers run up the skin beneath his shirt, and he tenses beneath you as your lips find his between each of your words. “And just do what comes naturally.” 

You run your lips across the corner of his mouth, and arch your body into his, angling the juncture of your throat beneath your jaw so that it brushes across his lips and the tip of his nose. 

Jungkook lets a groan slip from between his parted lips, and his fingers find purchase at your hips, breath hot on your skin, teeth grazing your throat as he murmurs against you, “Shit, your heartbeat is so loud.” A hint of teasing seeps into his next words, though he’s slightly breathless. “Is that for me?” 

“I mean-” You pant out, having to choke back a moan, your words stuttering to a stop for a slight moment, as Jungkook sucks open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. “If you want it.” 

“I do.” Jungkook’s voice is low now, a growl, and you start slightly as you feel a sharp prick against the flesh of your throat, at the juncture of your jawline. 

“Are those-” You start to ask, and move as if to pull away, the sudden heat of the moment suddenly taking a backseat to your burning curiosity. 

Jungkook groans, and not in pleasure this time, as he stops you from moving away from him and when he speaks, his voice is full of exasperation, lips still brushing the skin of your neck, and though you can’t see his expressions, you can practically imagine him rolling his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re tying to see them. Not right now.” 

You hide a grin. “Okay. Sorry.” 

“Now.” Jungkook’s fingers curl around your chin, and he makes you meet his gaze, irises almost completely swallowed up in the black of his pupils, as he tilts your head slightly to the side, fingers stroking over the fluttering pulse point beneath your jaw. “I believe you said this was for me?” 

You feel breathless, and lightheaded, and the way he’s looking at you is making it hard for you to think again and all you manage to get out is a dumb sounding, half affirmation in response, “Mmmhmm.” 

He smirks at you, and his fingers play along the crease of your collarbone, tracing the outline of the hollow at the base of your throat. “Remember, this is my first time, so be patient with me, yeah?” 

“This is my first time.” You quip back, though you don’t sound fierce, you sound breathless. “So be gentle.” 

“You know what they say.” Jungkook grins now, and you finally, finally get a look at the coveted fangs as they flash blindingly white in his mouth, and dammit all, if they don’t make him even more sexy. “Practice makes perfect.” 

Damn Jeon Jungkook. Damn Vampire Jeon Jungkook

*****

“Hey, it’s Kookie!” 

Taehyung crows the greeting as soon as the two of you walk through the door of the penthouse, and flinging his arms around the two of you, envelopes you both in a bear hug. 

“Glad you guys could make it. Life has been so boring since you moved out.” Taehyung continues on, dragging the two of you behind him toward the dining room as he talks incessantly over his shoulder, as if he’s been starved for conversation. “You guys down for dinner and drinks and games?” 

You glance at Jungkook, and he shrugs in response. “Yeah, hyung, sounds fund We don’t have plans.” 

“Wait.” 

Taehyung stops dead in the entrance to the dining room and whirls to face the two of you, eyes narrowed, as he looks you both over suspiciously. “something’s different here.” 

Jungkook instantly stiffens beside you, and you feel his fingers curl nervously against your palm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about hyung-” 

“WAIT.” Taehyung leaps toward you, making you step back nervously, as his fingers find your chin and wrench your head to the side. “Aha! I knew it!” 

You know exactly what he’s looking at. 

The almost healed puncture wounds that dot the side of your throat. 

Courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook whines, as if begging his older friend to remain quiet in the matter, a blush already darkening his cheek at what’s coming. 

“I KNEW YOU TWO DID IT.” Taehyung pats your cheek a little bit too hard in his excitement, before crushing Jungkook to him with a few hearty slaps on the back. “Congrats!” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you over his friend’s shoulder, and you stifle a laugh, because no matter how much Taehyung embarrasses him, you know he means well. 

Taehyung releases Jungkook and turns back to you. “Told you he was into biting.” He winks at you slyly, a smirk lighting up his handsome features. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook’s voice has risen an octave, and his cheeks are on fire. 

“You know-” Taehyung motions over his shoulder at Jimin, who has now joined you in the doorway, come to see what the hold up is. “We’re into biting too.” He shoots you a completely wicked grin. “Let us know if you ever wanna join us.” 

“Taehyung. That’s enough.” 

Namjoon’s voice thunders from the dining room beyond, and Taehyung, barely phased, rolls his eyes at you, before he turns and slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulders to enter the dining room. 

But not before giving you one last conspiratorial wink. 

“You’re not really considering that, are you?” Jungkook hisses beneath his breath as you start to enter the dining room behind the other men. 

You shrug, hiding your smile. “Who knows?” At the look of panic that crosses his face, you laugh, reaching out to tap the end of his nose with your finger, before leaning in to kiss him. “Just kidding. But I am into biting too, you know.” You shoot him a suggestive grin. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes and pinches the back of your hand where it rests in his, making you laugh once more as you take your seats at the table. 

“Just promise me two things-you’ll only ever be into biting with me." He points to himself, a slight smile starting to lift the corners of his lips. “Because another vampire myth that I forgot to mention that isn’t bullshit is that we’re insanely jealous.” He ticks another finger at you, and now he’s grinning in that way you love, with his nose scrunched and his eyes turning into half moons. “And, number two, you’ll never use the shower head as a weapon when I’ve done something to upset you.” 

You squeeze his hand where it rests under the table. “Promise.” 

[sachas]

TASK: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Aleksandr “Sacha” Ruslanovich Tarasov

Nickname: Sacha, Cha Cha ( taking applications for others xoxo )

Birthdate: 17th of December, 1989

Age: 32

Zodiac: Sagittarius Sun, Leo Moon, Scorpio Rising

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: He/him & They/Them ( used interchangeably )

Romantic orientation: Biromantic

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Nationality: Russian

Ethnicity: Russian

Rank: Dominion

Affiliation: Death

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: Moscow, Russia

Hometown: Moscow, Russia

Social class: Upper class

Educational achievements: Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Psychology from The Sorbonne ( mostly paid for with daddy’s money x )

Father: Ruslan “Lana” Yevgenovich Tarasov

Mother: Alexandra “Sanya” Pashovna Tarasova

Siblings: None

Pets: None

Previous relationships: 

Though Sacha prefers to keep his relationships loose, often leaving things without labels, there are a few notable entanglements.

- Saint Warden: The two experience a brief and heady whirlwind relationship ten years ago, one Summer in Paris bringing them close together, high off the drugs and each other. While a young Saint was fast to fall in love, Sacha cuts things off quickly, rathering to keep things casual than let someone become his weakness. Over the years, they reconnect occasionally, their affairs stretching a few days or weeks before the illusion is shattered again, sending Saint off again back home to London.

- Laura Vardhamana: Who’s chasing who here? Maybe that’s half the excitement, Laura plays hard to get with ease and Sacha knows they’ve met their match. Late night hook ups meld into something more, an uncanny amount of time spent together, their relationship developing a seriousness that Sacha’s never experienced. He gets suspicious, uses connections in Death to check out Laura’s tech from a far. There it is — bank statements, withdrawals and transactions made, Sacha’s been conned and is made quite the fool. So they blackmail her, turning the same receipts into threats of prison or Death.

Arrests: Breach of the Peace ( during a Death-staged protest )

Prison time: None

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Executive Producer, Pale Horse Media / Dominion, Death

Dream occupation: He doesn’t dream about working, only having power

Past jobs: Never truly worked a day in their life x 

Spending habits: As Death’s benefactor, Sacha allocates a certain amount of money from his family funds to the cause. On top of that, their personal spending could be described as excessive, spending mostly on clothes and other impulse buys.

In debt?: Hahaha

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: Average

Speed: Average

Intelligence: Above average

Accuracy: Above average

Agility: Above Average

Stamina: Average

Teamwork: Because he’s so good at manipulating others to bend to his will, Sacha doesn’t mind teamwork, though he would much rather work alone if possible

Talents: Persuasion, Manipulation, making playlists and mean cocktails

Shortcomings: Detached, vain, selfish, jealous 

Languages spoken: Russian, English, French

Drive?: Yes

Jumpstart a car?: No, they have people for that 

Change a flat tire?: No, they have people for that 

Ride a bicycle?: Yes

Swim?: Yes

Play an instrument?: Piano ( strict lessons from his childhood burning scales into his brain )

Play chess?: Yes

Braid hair?: No

Tie a tie?: Yes

Pick a lock?: No, they have people for that 

Cook?: hahaha 

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS.

Face claim: Robert Pattinson my beloved

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Dirty blonde

Hair type: Mostly straight with waves / 2a curl pattern

Glasses/contacts?: No

Dominant hand: Right

Height: 6’1″ / 185 cm

Build: Lean

Exercise habits: Combat training and the occasional run once or twice a week, Sacha’s definitely not passionate about exercise

Tattoos: General Tattoo Inspo ( x, x, x ) 

Highlights 

- Death Skull on his left shoulder close to collarbone, able to be seen from straight on

- “Тарасов” or Tarasov in Russian under left collarbone 

- a shitty stick n poke pansy on his thigh, given by Saint around ten years ago

- “Ignorant Style” tattooing, really vibe with @/bad.badtattoos on ig’s style ( here, here, here, here, here, here, here, )

Piercings: Earlobes 

Marks/scars: Freckles across skin, though none too pronounced. A few scars from drunken shenanigans gone wrong — Sacha really becomes reckless when he drinks.

Clothing style: Varied. Some days, they’re very casual, slouching on stupid graphic tee with jeans, other days are more like sleek designer boots and trendy, high waisted pants.

Jewelry: On dressed-up days, Sacha might swap his basic silver hoop earrings for something with shine, or might throw on a sleek watch to impress. His family has passed down two items of significance: a signet ring meant for each patriarch of the Tarasov family, and his grandfather’s pocket watch. Neither are worn or used on regular occasion, though might be broken out when Sacha is sent on official Tarasov Media Conglomerate business.

Allergies: None

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: INTJ - The Architect

Enneagram type:  Type eight - The Challenger  ( independent, stubborn, determined )

Moral alignment: Neutral Evil

Element: Fire

Emotional stability: Sacha keeps emotions hidden well beneath surface, often disguising one emotion as another, whatever is the most useful for the situation. Most of the time, people perceive him as detached and cold, making it hard for him to maintain regular relationships for long.

Introvert or extrovert?: Extroverted

Obsession: Finding people’s weaknesses

Phobias: Snakes! Egads! 

Drug use: Recreational, mainly drugs like ketamine, molly, acid

Alcohol use: Daily, mainly vodka

Prone to violence?: No, would rather use their snakey ways   

Prone to crying?: hahaha, no

Believe in love at first sight?: No

MANNERISMS.

Accent: With years of effort and practice, Sacha manages to disguise his natural Russian inflection with something closer to a Southern English accent, though it’s not perfect and you can hear it on occasion, especially if he’s been drinking

Hobbies: Binging shit TV, giving shitty stick-n-poke tattoos, making shitty tunes on the piano, listening to music, demanding aux privileges 

Habits: Drinking, smoking, lying their ass off

Nervous tics: Clenching jaw

Drives/motivations: Power, control, greed, attention 

Fears: Failure, losing control, submitting to others 

Sense of humor?: Kinda fucked up tbh

Do they curse often?: Tastefully

FAVORITES.

Animal: Bears

Beverage: Iced Coffee or Vodka

Book: Bret Eason Ellis’s American Psycho 

Colors: Green, Purple, Silver

Food: PIZZA! but a childhood comfort food is syrniki 

Flower: Orchids

Gem: Chalcedony

Mode of transportation: Land Rover

Scent: Vanilla, Oud, Tobacco

Weather: Cloudy, breezy

Vacation destination: Swiss Alps

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Becoming bigger and more influential than his father ever was

Greatest fear: Missing a huge opportunity, becoming irrelevant, being controlled 

Most at ease when: exerting control 

Least at ease when: being forced into something

Biggest achievement: Making a name for himself outside of Russia / Becoming the benefactor of Death

Biggest regret: Not negotiating with Uriel to enter Death as a Seraphim x 

[princessjaqulinechess1031]

Dr. Marylin Rose “Mary Rose” Barnes

Basic Information

Name: Dr. Marylin Rose Barnes

Age: 28 (in 1945)

Birthday: March 10th, 1917

Military Rank: Captain (U.S. Army, Retired)

Aliases: Doctor Democracy

Occupation: Doctor, Honorary Avenger,

Affiliation: Strategic Scientific Reserve/U.S. Army, S.T.R.I.K.E. Team (former), S.H.I.E.L.D. (former), Avengers

Weapon: Colt M1911A1 (rarely)

Family: Francis Barnes (father), Amedee Barnes née Brosseau (mother), James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes (twin brother), Rebecca “Becky” Barnes (little sister), Katherine Barnes (little sister), Amelie Barnes (little sister), Barbara Barnes (little sister)

Love Interest: Captain Steve Rogers/“Captain America”

Hometown: Brooklyn, New York, USA,

Nationality: American

Appearance

Hair: Medium Brown

Eyes: Brown

Build: Skinny, lanky, tall

Height: 5’ 8”

Personality

Strengths: Intelligence, Kindness, Tenacity, Ambition

Flaws: Stubborn, Over Sensitive, Works too much

Nervous Tics: Bites lip, stammers

Talents: Medical knowledge

Other

Favorite Color: Pink

Greatest fear: Steve and/or Bucky dying

Most Famous Quote: “To destroy a life is easy. To rebuild it is a thousand times harder.”

Limited Playlist:

“That’s What You Call A Dream” from Bonnie and Clyde: The Musical

“willow” by Taylor Swift

“Postcard” by Brigit Mendler

“It’s Nice to Have A Friend” by Taylor Swift

Backstory

Mary and her twin brother Bucky (ten minutes older) were born in Brooklyn in 1917. They met and became fast friends with Steve Rogers, who was very sickly and small for his age. Mary at a young age showed immense intelligence, and quickly rose to the top of her class, eventually entering university early and graduating at 24 with a medical degree.

While completing residency at Brooklyn General Hospital, she was approached by Dr. Erskine, who had been watching her work and studies as a professor at her medical school. He recruited her into the Strategic Scientific Reserve, and was assigned to the team to help develop the second version of the Super Solider Serum. She completed this in secrecy from her family and Steve, as the SSR was strictly classified.

At this point she had also fallen hard for Steve, viewing him as a loyal, moral, and kind person. She struggled with these feelings, as she felt it was clear that he did not feel the same way.

In 1942, Bucky was drafted into the 107th Infantry Unit as a sergeant, and she suggests to Dr. Erskine that he be selected for the Super Solider Program, wanting to give her brother the best chance in the war. This idea is shot down by Dr. Erskine, who already had his heart set on Steve being the recipient, unknown to Mary. Steve is eventually selected for the Serum after Erskine allows him to enlist, and Mary and Steve are equally angry at each other for keeping secrets on Mary’s part and his decision to go through with the program despite the risk to his already fragile health.

The Serum is a success, but Dr. Erskine is unfortunately killed by an assassin. As Dr. Erksine’s notes were encoded so only he could understand, the Serum is now lost for further use, and the Super Solider Program shut down. Steve is sent out to be a propaganda tool while Mary is transferred to the 107th with Colonel Phillips and Agent Carter, where she is reunited with her brother and works as the chief medic of the unit.

In 1943, Bucky is eventually captured by Hydra Soliders along with over a hundred of his brothers-in-arms. Mary attempts to go after them, but is stopped by Agent Carter who convinces her she is of more help in the 107th than captured along with her brother. Steve’s USO tour comes through their camp, and Mary informs him of Bucky’s capture. Steve goes after him and the others, and returns a little over two days later with the captured soldiers.

Steve puts together the Howling Commandos as a special unit to take down Hydra, selecting men from across the Allied Forces. Steve asks Mary to act as their doctor, and she agrees. At this point, it becomes apparent to other people that Steve has fallen for Mary and vice versa, but neither one have the confidence to tell the other.

On a heist of a train by the Howling Commandos, Bucky is unfortunately killed. This spirals Mary into a vengeful state and she makes Steve take her along on the final raid of the last Hydra facility, wanting revenge on the Red Skull. Mary follows Steve onto the plane the Red Skull is attempting to escape on, telling him she won’t lose him as well as Bucky so soon after the other. He reluctantly allows her to come with him.

They confront the Red Skull, and when the Skull touches the Tesseract, she tries to take it from him to prevent him from using it. She is overwhelmed by the power of it, and let’s go quickly but the Red Skull is absorbed into the portal it created. The plane is about to send a bomb into New York City, so Steve and Mary have no choice but to crash it. In what they believe to be their final moments, they admit their feelings and quickly radio Agent Peggy Carter to tell them what is happening.

They crash, and Mary, because of her brief interaction with the Tesseract is embedded with supernatural healing that allows her to survive the frozen tundra they are thrust into and the Serum allows Steve to. They are both frozen and thrust into seventy-years worth of sleep, before being rescued and awakened.

Mary attempts to navigate life in the 21st century, struggling to understand her new role in life and the differences between her old life and new reality. She would go on to become the personal doctor for the Avengers and slowly start a relationship with Steve.

And that’s just the beginning.

Notes:

Hi! I’ve written a pretty terrible story with a beta version of Mary years ago, but I thought it would reintroduce her with the changes I’ve made to her.

I also gave Mary and Bucky four siblings to honor some of the revelations of Bucky’s early life in The Falcon and the Winter Solider. But I also used my own early headcanons for them before I really got into comics, one being that Bucky had a French mother. I don’t think this change affects anything, so I stuck with it.

I hope y’all like her, and thank you for reading!

[cateringisalie]

Aerti Week 2020 Day 5

Written for the prompt ‘morii: the desire to capture a fleeting moment‘

Time blurred; between falling into darkness and awakening in green, Aeris barely had time to think. The Planet could hear her, respond to her. Conversations, communications possible at unprecedented clarity. And there was too much to do so fast. Catch Cloud as he plummeted below ground when the Weapons awoke. Send him drifting up in a Mako flow near Mideel and hope for the best. Whisper to Bugenhagen of how to push and hint Avalanche to deal with Sephiroth while he existed beyond her and the Planet’s reach. Marshall the Lifestream when Meteor forced its way through the shielding of the belated Holy. And far from a climatic moment, the destruction of Meteor was merely the beginning of so much work. She a more human consciousness, separated out from the teeming mass of souls. She could direct the lifestream’s flows, urge the Planet to capitalise on the damaged Mako reactors of Midgar, to use her gardens as footholds within the infamous desolate city to begin the painstaking reclaiming of the world. The wound at the top of the world was freshly opened, freshly scarred; so much of the Planet’s energy was needed there. She allowed the Planet an instinctive need to heal, but drew threads away to assist others. To mend the damage from Mako reactors. To help keep humanity alive. On and on, an endless succession of tasks and maintenance. Until one day she took stock. Caught up with the surface of the world. Six hundred years had passed while she worked. Hardly seemed possible. Daunting. She had missed so much; Nanaki and Vincent still existed, humanity remained – though far more respectful and considerate of the world beneath their feet than before. But the others; her friends, her mother. Her enemies in Shinra were all long gone. She missed them. And more – she missed their returns to the Planet. Missed the point they descended to join the mass. And somehow she still remained apart. Seemingly unique and forever separate. Something she had done? The Lifestream pooled and eddied; somewhere within it would be- Might not. Six hundred years; considering best case life expectancy, anyone she had known would be dead centuries. More than long enough for their souls to merge, to be scattered into a billion other parts. To become tiny aspects of new people. The people she knew were gone. And so much remained unsaid and never done. The lifestream reacted to her regret. Strange. An echo; or possibly a reflection. Her regret mirrored another’s. Aeris focused. Nothing fancy; perhaps things would become fancier later – if things went well. This was an opportunity to talk, to get to know each other without the complications and mitigating circumstances. No pursuit of Sephiroth, no fleeing from Shinra. No break before a toil at work. No others around them, privacy rarely afforded when sleeping rough and scraping money together for inns. Today there was a café. More the outline, the impression of a café- the finer details were lost. There was someone behind the counter and there was some way of making coffee, but it faded into distance. More important was the table and two chairs; one was occupied by Tifa Lockhart. Not truly Tifa – not anymore. But she was what could be found within the lifestream of the life once held by Tifa Lockhart. Her smile, her warmth. Her little tics and body language. And someone who expressed a similar regret. Of missing the opportunity to try a date; to see how things went. Not real, but Aeris could not wait to see how this went.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Keep them Warm pt. 3″

Part three guys. We are almost there. Hopefully I will be able to get out some other stories in the next week, and probably another chapter of the book, but for now this is going to have to do :). Hope you guys like it. 

He woke up flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. It was dark, but that was expected when you were living on a space station. Hand to his head, he sat up and rubbed his eyes becoming aware of a now-familiar sensation tugging at the skin of his stomach and sides. 

It had been almost a month since he had been stuck with the alien eggs, feeding off him for support, and in that time he had grown a greater appreciation for women and pregnancy, not to say that what he was experiencing was in any way close, but it did have elements that were rather similar. 

Testing had concluded a likely series of events, which had lead to this strange ability by the adaptids. It appeared as if the original Adaptids had had the usual binary gender system that you see in many species, a male, and a female, and at that time, their eggs had been primarily parasitic until hatching. It may have been, that, originally, they laid their eggs on other species, and a few of the eggs would survive. However, when they met the original version of the host gender, the situation had turned out to be mutually beneficial for both of them. The more mutually supportive, the more the hosts evolved to help the adaptids. Eventually a line of DNA acquisition allowed the host to pass on its DNA through the parasitic eggs.

Over time, this ability had allowed the adaptids  to incorporate other species into their genetic code successfully breeding in desired traits. They probably hadn’t been a species that was originally intended for sentience, but their ability to adapt had changed things. 

It was concluded that the use of a human for adaptids evolution was an inevitability and not an accident. The queen had probably intended to do what she did the moment she saw them, it was in their nature to do so.

For him, the tradeoff wasn’t so bad, he supposed. Granted he had what could best be described as an absolutely MASSIVE tic, but one that allowed him to eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. 

As far as his newfound appreciation for pregnant women, that came with his inability to sleep on his stomach, strange and sometimes unnerving cravings, random nausea, and, recently, an extreme sensitivity to smell, not to mention the almost compulsive need people felt to touch the eggs whenever they saw them. 

The smell though, that was the worst thing. Whatever this was, it wasn’t simply a distaste for specific smells, but he swore on his life that he could Smell things he shouldn’t have been able to smell.

He stood up, stretched and walked over to the viewing window pressing the button to open the shutters on his way past bathed suddenly in the light of  Jupiter’s stormy red eye. He paused there looking out at the view. He took a deep breath closing his eyes and smiling to himself. Not many people get to live their dream, not many people become what they wanted to be as a kid. 

He was incredibly lucky.

A knock at the door startled him from his musings.

Speaking of incredibly lucky….

“Come in!” He called wandering over to the side of the room to grab a glass of water.

THe door hissed open, and Sunny stepped into the room, ducking under the short door frame before it hissed closed behind her. She glanced towards the window, “WHo the hell decided to give you the executive suite.” 

He smirked, “pretty suite view, Isn’t it.” 

“Where do you want this.” She wondered holding the breakfast trey before her.

“Uh…. just set in on the side table there.” He said stepping into the bathroom and closing the door with a sharp hiss.

Sunny heard the water turn on, “Krill wants to see you this morning.” She called, a little louder so he could hear it.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” The man called back as he angrily tried to adjust the water temperature. He swore it only ever got lukewarm especially of those mornings he just wanted to scald the first layer of his skin off.

When that wasn’t enough, he turned off the water and got dressed eventually returning to his room where Sunny sat over a large bowl of salad. Luckily, the Drev, as herbivores, were capable of eating certain types of earth food. It was a real monetary plus as thousands of dollars were spent simply trying to keep the humans fed, much less their alien counterparts.

He sat down next to her and sniffed at the air, “Pancakes, syrup butter, and orange juice.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “Am I really that predictable.”

He shrugged, “Well there are only so many breakfast options, but I could smell it.” 

She looked skeptical, “You can smell orange juice.”

He sniffed at the air, “You can’t? It’s pretty strong.”

“Not a human, remember.”

He gave a rueful smile, “Whoopse, sometimes i forget.” 

He pulled the lid off the top of the breakfast dish, and was hit in the face with a rather strong smell of breakfast. Luckily it wasn’t unpleasant, but it was surprisingly overpowering, and he had to shake himself a few times to dissipate the smell, “Wow, that’s strong.”

She eyed him again in confusion, “The smell of pancakes is…. Strong?”

“Even YOU should be able to smell it.”

When she didn’t he finally let it go and ate his breakfast. IT tasted pretty good, more flavorful than usual, but he supposed that was partially due to the strength of the smell.

While he was eating, Sunny leaned over and pulled up the side of his shirt to examine the eggs. He let her. When other people did it, it was kind of annoying, but he was generally ok with sunny doing what she wanted, they were friends enough for that.

“Do they…. Look bigger or is it just me.”

He shook his head, “Eggs don’t grow, Sunny. They are a little bit heavier though, which is a bitch on my back.”

Sunny grunted and sat back in her chair, “Have you shown the admiral.”

He snorted, “You should have seen the look on her face. I think I may have just given her nightmares for a few weeks.”

The Commander finished up his breakfast, and together He and Sunny stepped out of the room and made their way down the hall. It took them longer than they intended to reach their desired destination, as everyone in their dog had to stop and take a look. Despite the supposed “privacy” he was entitled to based on medical procedure, his condition had spread around the station like wildfire. He was no longer “the commander” but the guy “with the eggs” or (erroneously) “The guy who hooked up with an alien spider. 

The amount of times he had to explain was starting to get a little old, but whatever. Those who didn’t want to touch, wanted to ask a million questions, and vise versa. Occasionally there were those who fit into both camps.

As he was doing this, he began to notice something strange. Sometimes less strange and more disgusting.

He sniffed at the air after one of the guys finally left to be on his way wrinkling his nose, “That guy did NOT shower today.”

Sunny glanced over at him,  “I thought some humans only showered every-other day.”

“Well they SHOULD be doing it every day.” 

The more people they met the more issues he began to have. Floods of aftershave, perfume and flowery deodorant. When they didn’t smell like soap, they smelled like body odor, and when they didn’t smell like that, they smelled like the last thing they had eaten. He rubbed at his temples as the headache began throbbing slowly at the back of his skull.

“Are you ok?” Sunny wondered

They had finally made it down the hall and into the docking bay. 

Stepping through the doors into the massive room, The commander was hit by an absolutely stifling wave of ol, grease, solvant, BO, and paint. He grew lightheaded and had to reach out and steady himself against Sunny’s arm as they walked down the length of the room. She glanced over at him nervously, but he only shook his head at her covering his nose with one hand as they made their way across the deck and to their ship, docked at the other end.

The station was an absolutely massive piece of engineering, probably the size of a large city, and being added onto every day. While it wasn’t likely to ever reach anything near the size of something like, say, the Death Star, it would still probably end up very large.

The Harbinger looked almost tiny compared to the room that surrounded it.

Adam was relieved when they were finally inside, and the outside smells had all but dissipated. Walking next to him, Sunny escorted him up to the medical bay where Dr. Katie and Krill were already hard at work. 

Stepping through the doors, Adam was suddenly assaulted by the pungent smell of disinfectant and isopropyl (Rubbing Alcohol). The smell was so strong that it made him momentarily light headed. He swayed on his feet hand to his head, and Sunny was forced to steady him. “Adam, Adam, are you ok.”

The room spun around him as the smell intensified. He leaned heavily against Sunny as the room echoed, the headache intensified. 

Voices rose and fell around him, and it seemed as if he tilted sideways in slow motion. Something stopped him from falling to the floor, and he vaguely recognized Sunny’s armored arms holding him up.

“Get him to one of the beds.” Krill ordered.

“No… no I think he said something about the smell.” Sunny protested 

Dr. Katie interjected, “Then let’s get him into the other room,”\

He momentarily blacked out here, but woke a few minutes later with the smell, mostly, absent and a pounding headache. “Commander, Commander are you ok.” A light flashed from one eye to the other, and he tried to wave them off.

“I, I’m ok…. Just got a bit dizzy there for a second.”

“Your blood pressure is normal.” Commented Dr. Katie

“Yeah, but did you bleach the entire building this morning,'' he moaned. “I feel like my eyes are going to singe out of my head.”

The two looked back and fourth between each other and him, “What do you mean Commander,” Katie asked, “It smells just like it normally does.”

He shook his head, “Guess again…. Can we just to the exam here. I can’t go back in there.”

They were clearly worried, but they agreed to humor him, allowing him to lay back and rest his head. He could smell Dr. Katie's perfume. He would have said that it smelled like cinnamon accept for the chemical aftertaste that it left lingering. Her breath was sharp with mint, but even under that he could tell she had a chocolate chip muffin for breakfast.

He decided against mentioning it seeing as it might sound a bit creepy.

He tried focusing on something other than the smells while the two of them took a look at the eggs, and where they had adhered to the skin. 

“Nothing appears abnormal.” Krill commented, “Skin color is fine,”

“Are you having any other strange symptomes?” Dr. Katie wondered 

“Hungry…… been craving for red meat ... Probably protein or iron…. And then there is the smell….. Oh and ive been unusually cold lately.” 

Checking his temperature, they didn’t find anything abnormal and drew some blood to make sure there weren't any problems hiding under the surface they just couldn't see.

***

As for the smell, that was only getting worse. He had gone onto the bridge to finish off his work, and was bombarded on all sides by perfume aftershave toothpaste, deodorant, body odor and breakfast hours old.

His head throbbed.

He stood, “Alright, everyone get the hell out.” The crew turned to look at him with confusion.

“Commander?”

“You heard what I said, get the hell out, and take a shower, all of you.”

They looked between each other confused, “I don’t understand-”

“What part of go take a damned shower don’t you understand/”

The crew stood, not entirely sure what was going on, “Is everything ok commander?” Someone asked

He groaned a bit, “You all stink to high heaven.”

It was to Sunny’s amusement that almost the entire rooms turned to sniff at themselves discreetly appearing puzzled.

“The perfume and aftershave and the lotion. It has to go. I have the biggest headache you wouldn’t believe.”

“You can smell my deodorant from here?” One of the men wondered skeptically.

“Yeah I can tell it stopped working about an hour ago.” That left the guy frowning as he turned to the other crew members, “Vanilla, leather and musk, poder, strawberry, chlorine from the station pool, and you, you had onions in your breakfast.

“You can’t seriously smell that from here.” One of the crewmember pointed out.

“Let me break this down to you. I can smell EVERYTHING.”\

A few of the crew-members began to look a little nervous, “Everything, sir. The lieutenant wondered.”

He looked at her, expression a little softer, and a tad more long suffering, “yes crewman…. everything .”

She exited the room rather judiciously as did a few other members of the crew still sniffing at themselves, less discreetly now than before, “No perfume, no aftershave, only odorless deodorant, please.” When they were all gone, Commander Vir slumped down in his seat with a groan and a shiver, “Why does it always have to be so cold in here.”| Sunny glanced at the internal ship readings on her console, “Adam, its like 75 degrees in here, and may I remind you that you have specifically told everyone that if they touch the thermostat you are going to make them sleep next to the engine room.”

He spun in his seat rubbing his arms with the chill, “Hmm, the engine room. Doesn’t sound half bad.

Sunny frowned, “Adam, its like 120 degrees just off the engine room.

“Perfect.” he muttered

***

When the crew finally returned from their ministrations, they found the commander missing. Sunny, who had stepped out for a few moments, only to find the Commander gone when she got back had no idea where he had gone.

He was finally located about three hours later curled up on the floor of one of the auxiliary engine hallways. Heat directly around the core could reach dangerous levels, so he had chosen one of the outlying hallways. Even so, it was about 123 degrees, and dehydration had started to set in. He was eventually brought back to the medical bay where Krill acquired some heating blankets.

Over the next few weeks, his symptoms only got worse and even more strange. He was hungry all the time, and always cold. He was often seen seeking out warm areas to curl up and bask like some sort of lizard. Krill was forced to implement a makeshift heating room near the infirmary to avoid allowing him to wander off into more dangerous areas. His ability to smell at this time became uncanny and seemingly impossible for a human. He could smell the very chemicals used to make certain types of perfume. Usually he knew what a person had for their last meal, and even the one before that. He even claimed to be able to smell hormone levels on the other humans, and, as far as they were concerned, he hadn’t been wrong. 

It became such an issue that he was practically forced into a smelless sterile environment for his own health. 

If that wasn’t enough, he was practically taken out by the back pain caused by the weight of the eggs supported by the most unstable part of the spine, especially in men, who did not have the anatomical assistance in carrying weight on that part of their bodies, like women do. It probably didn’t help that ever doctor aboard the ship wanted a look at him for scientific purposes.

As far as his personal life went, one of his brothers had caught wind of the situation, and he dared not guess what was going to happen when he called them up next. He could really only share these worries with Sunny seeing as she was the only creature on the ship, aside form Krill, who didn’t carry any noticeable sent, unless you counted spinach and some fruit to be overpowering smells. 

If Krill was right, the creatures were due to hatch almost any day now.

And no one was entirely sure what was going to come out when they did. 

[theloyaltyofthewolves]

stray kids

one of you asked me if i could talk about why i love stray kids on my old blog. i know it’s about three months too late, but if ur still out there anon, this one’s for you.

it’s been five years since i stumbled into the world of kpop. i started listening in 2015. which is crazy. you know how long ago five years was? bts hadn’t even won an award in 2015. b*g b*ng was still together in 2015. twice and ikon won rookie of the year, nct hadn’t debuted, exo had just begun their rise to fame. 

it’s been a fun five years. i have loved many different groups. i have watched them sprout, grow, blossom, followed several of them to stardom. some of them, i’ve broken up with. many of them, i still check in with from time to time. i’ve watched several of them disband or go into hiding. i still listen to their music, i still watch their old fancams. 

this is all to say that stray kids are different. they always have been and i knew that right away. i was sitting in my dorm room, five thirty am, headphones on while my roommate slept, watching the 2018 MAMA awards. you know the performance. we all know the performance. two years later, and it’s still their best performance. not just because they won rookie of the year, not just because of bluesung. but because they threw absolutely everything they could into it. sure, maybe the show was a little sloppy. maybe there were mistakes, maybe they were a little bit awkward, maybe the vocals weren’t perfect, maybe they couldn’t fill the whole stage. but they were giving it everything they had. and the thing abt live streams, live performances, is that shit like that shows. you can dose up music videos with as many special effects as you like. you can edit the official recordings, slip in some autotune, crop some angles, blur some skin as much as you want. but you cannot fake desperation. you can’t fake passion. 

to this day, i have never seen a performance like that. not from a rookie group, not from a veteran. i didn’t even know who the hell they were, where the hell they had come from, who they belonged to, what their names were, but i could feel their desperation across six thousand miles of ocean. in an industry overflowing with glittering diamonds, these kids were broken shards of obsidian. they were raw. they were unpolished. they were sharp. they had cut themselves open for this performance, they were bleeding all over the stage. 

i will always have a weak spot for underdogs. for the kids who fight tooth and nail just to be there, who come out with scraped knees and bruised knuckles. the kids who force themselves into places they don’t fit into, stages too clean for them. the kids who make a scene just by showing up. who come in hot, burning, running their mouths. talking way bigger than they are, way bigger than they have any right to be. the reckless hubris of youth, the kind that turns heads. fucking look at us. fucking pay attention. we fought to be here, we survived, we’re staying.

that is what stray kids is. an experiment, a test. eight wolves just coming into their own. they’re messy and they’re ragged and they’re scrappy and they’re real. they can’t be handled the way that other groups have been built to be, they can’t be air-brushed into perfection. the thing about a company ceding control the way it has is that there is no reclaiming it. there’s no picking up the end of the leash once it’s been dropped. stray kids are self-made. they built themselves with their bare hands. it’s their blood, their sweat, their sacrifices. their music, their dream, their voice, their sleepless nights and empty bank accounts. their fire, their heart, their honest-to-god love. yes, they have been confined within the limits of jyp and yes, they are still chained to the performative nature of being an idol. but they have pulled the boundaries far further than any group that has come before them. their own terms, their own music, their own limits. stray kids are the new standard. 

and then there are the members themselves. i could spend another four thousand words talking about why i love them individually. but stray kids are more than the sum of their parts. they always have been.

all idol groups love each other. i cannot imagine there is any other way that they survive. the pressure, the expectations, the fame, the stress, the exhaustion, the bullshit, the objectification, the subjugation. being worked to the bone, run like a racehorse, treated like a commodity instead of a human being. it’s a version of trauma bonding, it really is. your teammates become the only people who understand what you are going through, who can relate to you, share your burden. they are also often the only ones looking after each other. keeping each other safe, keeping each other healthy. friends, if not family. allies, if not friends. teammates rely on each other, that is universal.  

but stray kids’ bond runs deeper than that.

we like to talk like it was fate that they found each other, like they stumbled into one another and it all just fell together and everyone was happy and the river ran smooth and the blood was sweet like honey. we like that, we think there’s something holy in it because it rings like destiny and we like that. soulmates, meant-to-be’s. 

that’s not what they are. i wish i could get it stapled across my blog in big bold letters. it’s not a coincidence. it’s not a miracle. it’s not an accident. stray kids are not an act of fate, they are an act of love and that is what makes them so fucking special. 

it’s not luck that got them this close. it’s not destiny. stray kids put in the time. they put in the effort. they looked at each other and they decided this isn’t going to be an accident. love takes work. love takes sacrifice. love takes patience and selflessness and respect and effort. it’s not one and done, you don’t just fall in love and everything falls into place. choosing to love someone, committing yourself to someone, devoting yourself to someone – never mind seven other people – is a big fucking deal. it has to be done consciously. it has to be done on purpose. you have to look inside of yourself and say this is more important. these people are more important. i will put them first over everything.

it’s the millionth time, but i’ll say it once more for the people in the back: stray kids practice active love. love as an action, love as a verb, love as an act of defiance. on purpose, on purpose. i’m going to love you on purpose. i’m going to take you for everything you are, all your flaws and all your strengths, all your dreams and all your fears, all the stones and scars and ghosts that you carry. i’m going to love you for all of it. the good and the bad. 

losing teammates is a bitter and terrible loss. it must haunt them restlessly, follow in their footsteps and shadow their shoulders, whispers in their ears at every turn. wounds like that don’t heal right on their own, so they have stitched themselves up with parts of each other. it’s why they never stray too far, are never more than an arm’s length from each other’s sides. it’s why chan doesn’t let the kids out of his sight, why they are always so on-edge when they are not eight, why every time one of their teammates is returned to them, he is subjected to a full check-up by seven worried faces. they all have it, that obsessive tic. they reassure with their hands, with physical touch. tangible. it’s not enough to see, they have to feel each other under their fingers. reassure that we are here, we are together, we are eight and we are still alive. they are terrified to lose one another so they bind themselves tighter, lean on each other harder, love fiercer and bloodier.

it’s an act of resistance, love like that. screaming into the endless void of hate and emptiness, loneliness and despair, failure, defeat, grief. even after all this time. all the heartbreak and the devastation, everything they’ve lost, all the tragedy. to get back up, to put on a brave face, to take a stand with your chin up and your arms outstretched: these are my people. my heart and my soul, my blood and my bones. you cannot take them from me, you will not take them from me, i will cherish them to my death, i will protect them to my death, i will love them to my death. practicing active love because they want to be together, because they will be together, because they are better when they are together--that’s brave. that is bravery. that is an act of rebellion and it is the most human thing one could do and it is the reason i love them more than anything. because they love each other on purpose, and because somehow in this world of chaos and violence and hatred and fear, that is enough.

you kiss me with your mouth wide open like you're not afraid of swallowing poison. i taste the good and the bad in you and want them both. we call this bravery. - anita ofokansi

[loganarmstrong]

B A S I C

NAME: Logan Mayumi Armstrong

NICKNAME(S): Lo

AGE: 29

DATE OF BIRTH: 5 February 1992

GENDER: cis male

PRONOUNS: he/him

F A M I L Y

MOTHER: lyra armstrong, nee karingal

FATHER: michael armstrong

SIBLING(S): sean (older brother), mason (older twin brother)

P H Y S I C A L

FACE CLAIM: darren criss

RACE/ETHNICITY: english, german, filipino, spanish, chinese

NATIONALITY: american

HEIGHT: 5 feet and six inches (5′6)

WEIGHT: 152 lbs

BUILD: slender, skinny, will often describe himself as scrawny

SCARS: inside of wrists, one above eyebrow

HAIR: black, curly

EYE COLOR: hazel

DOMINANT HAND: left

ACCENT: american (though rarely speaks)

PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: none, though needs glasses

MENTAL DISABILITIES: autisim, selective mutism

ALLERGIES: shellfish

DISORDERS: anxiety, depression

FASHION: prefers soft fabrics, often wears with overalls and doc martens

NERVOUS TICS: wringing hands together, fidgeting

L I F E S T Y L E

HOME ADDRESS: bridgeport, somerton, maine

RESIDES: medium sized loft apartment

BORN: conway, new hampshire

RAISED: conway, new hampshire

VEHICLE: range rover suv, black

PHONE: iphone xr

LAPTOP/COMPUTER: macbook pro, ipad pro

PET(S): service dog, northern inuit named ella

HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION: kennett high school

COLLEGE EDUCATION: the institute of fine arts, nyu

MAJOR: fine art

MINOR: illustration

CAREER: head baker

EMPLOYER: golden flour bakery

DIET: vegetarian 

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual

MARITAL STATUS: single

CHILDREN: none

LANGUAGES: english, american sign language

PHOBIAS: loud noises

HOBBIES: art, reading, journalling, soccer, video games

SOCIAL MEDIA: inactive on most, privacy settings high due to ex partner

F A V O R I T E

LOCATION: the reading nook in his apartment

VIDEO GAME: skyrim, animal crossing, horizon zero dawn, spyro, stardew valley

ARTIST: vincent van gogh

MUSIC: varying

SONG: radio gaga - queen

TV SHOWS: the umbrella academy, the witcher, friends, stranger things, doctor who, sherlock

MOVIES: the addams family, my neighbor totoro, jurassic park, hook, forrest gump

FOOD: asian

COLOR: yellow

C H A R A C T E R

MBTI: infj-t: the advocate

ENNEGRAM: six

TEMPERAMENT: melancholic

WESTERN ZODIAC: aquarius

CHINESE ZODIAC: monkey

PRIMAL SIGN: dolphin

B I O G R A P H Y

tw suicide attempt, self harm, abusive relationship

Logan Mayumi Armstrong is precisely three minutes and forty two seconds younger than his twin brother, Mason, and six years younger than his oldest sibling. He was a quiet baby who hardly ever cried and mostly kept to himself, even as a toddler. None of the family knew anything was wrong with Logan until he was five years old. The Armstrong family thought that maybe Logan was just a quiet child, or even a late bloomer. But soon enough, every other child in his play group could speak and Mason was already stringing together full sentences. Logan hadn’t uttered a single word and was taken to see a doctor, put through weeks of testing until finally, a result came through.

Logan was diagnosed with selective mutism. He had the ability to speak - the tests showed he had the physical ability, but he was unable to do so. The Armstrong family learned sign language in an effort to help their youngest son communicate and it was something he appreciated - he could actually ask for things now! More tests followed and eventually Logan was given a diagnosis of autism. He didn’t fully understand it, not when he was young, but he understood enough to know it made him different. He struggled to make friends in his class and often spent recess alone. Mason on the other hand, was confident and never shy of any friends. He was always around people, always out playing with his friends and happy.

Logan tried hard not to let his differences bother him. People didn’t understand him, that was what he told himself. He focused on the things he enjoyed instead, such as art. For Logan, it was a way of expressing himself without the need for words and he spent hours practicing, filling sketchbook after sketchbook. Art became his outlet, how he showed his feelings although most of his work he kept to himself. He didn’t want to upset anyone with his difference. He’d heard his mom crying when he was first diagnosed as autistic and understood being different made her sad. He’d heard his father say they could get through it and at least they had his siblings who would be able to lead “normal lives”. Those were the words his father had used and it hurt, to know he wasn’t normal. He’d known he was different, sure, but the thought of not being able to live a normal life hurt.

Logan never told either of his parents he’d overheard their conversation. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it but he was sure it wouldn’t be good if they knew. He began to withdraw even more than before, stopping using sign language and only used simple, one-word answers to questions. Logan was battling with himself. As he got older, he realised he was even more different to his peers than he thought. Everyone started getting girlfriends when he entered high school and Logan wasn’t really interested in that. He thought girls were beautiful, sure, but Logan thought guys were too. He told Mason one day who seemed taken aback by the confession. The people in their school found out that Logan wasn’t quite straight and things only got worse. He was already picked on relentlessly for his lack of speech and being different but with new fuel to the fire, they made Logan’s life miserable.

The most difficult thing for him to accept was that no one wanted him around. He felt isolated, more alone than ever and didn’t know who to turn to for help. What could he do? He struggled with communication at the best of times. His parents were concerned at how withdrawn he’d become and heard from Mason how the bullying had gotten worse at school. They took him to a doctor and Logan was diagnosed with depression. He refused to take his medication and hid the pills from his parents - he didn’t need another thing wrong with him and he didn’t want the medication. He was careful though and everyone thought he was taking them when he was supposed to, believing it would just take time for him to get better.

Death wasn’t something that scared Logan. He wasn’t afraid to die and it was something he’d welcome. He wasn’t really sure what spurred his decision; he hadn’t been on his medication since his diagnosis and he was gradually getting worse. He couldn’t think of any other way to deal with the mess that was him. So when Logan’s mother found him on the bathroom floor, barely conscious and in a pool of his own blood, no one had expected it.

Logan was forced to stay in hospital for three months after that. Physically he was fine, merely left with deep scars marking the insides of his wrists. But mentally, Logan wasn’t okay. He was forced to take his medication, made to attend counselling and managed to tell his therapist everything. It took a long time, what with his lack of communication, but eventually, they understood the reasoning behind it and Logan began to recover.

He finished the school year in between his home and the hospital, Mason bringing the work home to him and helping him set up his online classes. Logan managed to graduate with a respectable grade. He wanted to pursue college, wanted to take his art further and make a career out of it. His parents were terrified to let Logan travel so far away. But they understood and after a lengthy conversation and the promise he would keep in contact with them, Logan was off.

He flew to New York City to study Fine Art and Illustration. It was a new sense of freedom for him. He still wasn’t okay, but he made sure he took his medication and stuck to a strict schedule for himself. It helped him focus and Logan was able to enjoy himself, even make a couple of friends and get a job as a barista in a local coffee shop. It was in this coffee shop that he met the person who changed his life.

Matthew was a kind and caring man at first glance. He didn’t let Logan’s lack of speech bother him, continuing to visit the younger man every day with a bouquet of flowers until Logan agreed to go on a date. Things started off well - Matthew was patient with Logan’s difficulty communicating and he made him laugh. Logan thought he could actually be happy and was excited when after a few short months, Matthew asked him to move in with him.

But that was when things began to take a turn for the worst. Matthew seemed to lose the patience he had before. He grew frustrated at Logan’s inability to speak and would fly into a fit of rage more often than not. The first time he hit him was one of the worst. Logan told himself he’d leave him, he wouldn’t let himself be pushed around like this. But Matthew had broken down, told Logan he needed help and said he wouldn’t be able to survive without him. He told Logan he’d been suicidal in the past and he would die if Logan left. So Logan stayed, forgave Matthew each and every time he was hit, when he was shoved or when he was beaten. Matthew told him this was what he deserved and Logan started to believe it. The bruises were always carefully hidden and Logan accepted that this was what his life would be. He was afraid no one would believe him if he told the truth so he kept quiet. Even after he finished his degree, he stayed with his boyfriend. Months turned into years and still, Logan was too afraid to leave.

The sixth time he was hospitalised from his injuries was the breaking point. But it also provided Logan with a way out. Matthew was arrested and Logan discharged himself from the hospital before he recovered fully and ran. He managed to scrape some money together and left the city, travelling as far as he could.

He settled in Somerton, Maine, a town he’d heard about often growing up. No one knew him there and he’d be able to start again, that was the main thing. He was still terrified Matthew would find him, especially as Logan fled without giving a statement against him. But he settled into life, got a job at the local bakery and kept his head down. It was just him and his faithful Ella now, his service dog. She kept him grounded and he knew he owed a lot t her presence. The residents of Somerton were nice and didn’t ask too many questions, for which he was grateful. Now all he had to do was hope he stayed safe.

[frizz22]

Heavy is the Head

Hilda doesn’t let Zelda go back under the pretense of the Caligari spell.

Notes: This has been half finished in my drafts for ages, so sorry if it's an old idea. But it always bothered me that no one objected to Zelda going back after saying it was torture... anyway, hope you enjoy! Read on ao3 

Zelda sniffed in distaste as she picked up the bag with what remained of Leviathan. Steeling herself against the nausea roiling through her, Zelda forced her mask back into place.

Going back was the only way. Pretending, pretending to still be under the Caligari spell was the only way to keep them all safe and alive.

Deftly flipping her hair over her shoulder, Zelda sighed. “The things I do for this family.” She quipped, doing her best to sound unaffected by this decision.

As she made to leave, though, Hilda caught her arm. “I can’t.” She shook her head, lips pressed tightly together. “I can’t let you go back, Zelds.” 

Touched by her sister’s concern, Zelda gave her a small smile. “Hildie, I appreciate it, but there’s really no other—"

“We’ll find one.” Her sister interrupted, looking at her earnestly. “You said it was torture. This would be no different, or, or maybe it’d be even worse. I’m not letting you go back there either way.”

Forcing back tears of gratitude, Zelda swallowed hard. “Then what do you suggest we do? Faustus is expecting me back, if I don’t return, he’ll know, and Hell knows what would happen to Ambrose.”

A wicked smile curled her sister’s lips. “Oh, I have just the thing.” Eyes gleaming with rare malice, Hilda took her hand and led Zelda into the greenhouse.

Frowning, Zelda set the bag of mouse remains down and let herself be ushered deeper into the house. “Hilda...” she hedged. As much as she wanted an alternative, if they took too long Faustus would deduce something; he wasn’t an idiot, though he played the part convincingly enough at times.

Hilda held up a finger and flicked her free wrist to gather the supplies she needed. After everything floated to her worktable, Hilda arched a brow at Zelda. “A poppet.” She added, a little unnecessarily, given Zelda had recognized everything from when they made one for Shirley.

She huffed in disbelief. “Well, if it’s not broke...” she mumbled, joining her sister at the table. And it really was quite brilliant. Faustus would never be entrapped by a Caligari spell; he’d be too wary of any musical device after what he’d done to her.

They worked together in near silence, only occasionally asking to be handed an item. When the poppet was done, Hilda held up the tin of ear worms once more. “Take two, just to increase the strength.” She murmured, scowling at the miniature Faustus doll Zelda was holding. “Can’t chance the bastard wriggling his way out somehow.”  

Only too happy to comply, Zelda slipped two worms inside the poppet’s head and sewed it shut as she and Hilda sang the spell.

Once finished, Hilda looked up at her. “And now, we kill him.” She murmured darkly, likely picturing all the gruesome ways they could make Faustus kill himself.

Smiling cruelly, Zelda weighed the poppet in her hand. “No.” She breathed, possibilities flashing through her mind of how else they could approach this. While she wanted to punish Faustus, killing him was too easy, too final. “I have much better plans for him than death.” Feeling lighter than she had since that cursed spell was forced on her, Zelda winked at her sister, picked up the bag full of Leviathan, and teleported away. 

~~~

Faustus looked up from his book when she reappeared. Arching a brow, he marked his spot. “Run into trouble, dearest? It took you some time.”

Daintily placing the bag on his book, smothering a smile at how he sneered at how it leaked onto the pages, Zelda clasped her hands together. “They cloaked the mouse, husband, thinking they were being clever. I found it and dealt with it as you instructed.”

“Of course you did, Zelda.” He stood and rounded the table to stand in front of her. “Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” Faustus stroked the back of his fingers along her cheek before slipping his hand into her hair.

And oh, how such an action would have made her feel, even just a week ago, before the spell. Now it took all her self-control not to shred him for daring to touch her.

Carefully keeping her face blank except an empty smile, Zelda nodded despite the nausea growing in her stomach.

“I have something else for you, your Excellency.” Zelda added as Faustus turned to pick up his drink. He hummed and reached for the decanter to refill his glass without looking at her. Letting the Caligari demeanor drop, Zelda stepped up behind him and started to sing into his ear.

The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinochle on your snout. They eat your eyes, they eat your nose, they eat the jelly between your toes.

The drink fell from Faustus’ hand and he stiffened. Pleased with herself, Zelda rounded her husband and gave him and assessing look.... he was fully bound by her spell.

Lifting her chin, Zelda smirked and moved to settle in his chair, propping her feet up on his desk. “Faustus, dearest,” she mocked the endearment, “pour me a drink.”

Face blank, Faustus moved automatically to fulfill her order.  

As the warmth of victory and revenge spread through her, Zelda lit a cigarette, taking a long, satisfying drag and blowing the smoke into Faustus’ face before she took the drink from him.

“Very good, husband.” She huffed in amusement at the title. “Now, sit and listen like a good little Antipope.” When he complied, Zelda continued. “I entered this marriage for power. And sex,” she admitted, “the sex was incredible and why would I have denied myself? It seemed such a simple marriage, both of us enjoying power and sex so why not get more of each by working together. But you had to go and reach beyond yourself. Tried to turn that power on me.” She tsked and knocked some ash off her cigarette. “You should have known better. Should have known you couldn’t control me, not for long at least. So now, as your punishment, I’ll control you.”

She took a sip and watched Faustus carefully, ensuring no facial tics indicating he wasn’t fully under her spell. Satisfied, she continued. “Only I did it better. Nothing to smash to end my spell... seems I’ve bested you again, Faustus, just like in our academy days.” Zelda arched a brow and took another drag of nicotine. “Sadly, I still need you. Don’t go convincing yourself it’s sentimental, it’s that you’re too powerful to waste. I’d have killed you by now otherwise. No,” she sighed and knocked back the rest of her drink and held out the glass to him, Faustus immediately stood to fill it. “I have to keep you if I want to rule. The witching realm isn’t ready for a witch leader, misogynistic as most warlocks are. So, I’ll rule through you, make sweeping reforms, raise up witches...” she looked off to the side, a small smile tugging her lips as she envisioned the future. Refocusing on the warlock in front of her, Zelda dropped her feet to the ground and stood. “I suppose all your conniving paid off in the end, I’d never be able to make such a difference with a mere High Priest for a husband, an Antipope though...” she lifted a brow and stubbed out her cigarette. “Clean up this mess, Faustus,” she indicated to the bag still leaking mouse fluids on the book, “and then come find me, we have a lot of work to do.” 

~~~

The following years passed smoothly.

Her reforms were questioned at first, but with Antipope Faustus as her mouthpiece the witching realm accepted them as the Dark Lord’s will and adopted them with alacrity and enthusiasm.

Sometimes, to toy with Faustus and gloat, rub his face in how well the witching realm was doing with her as the ruler, Zelda would let him surface—with a number of restrictive spells, of course.

Tonight was one of those times. Zelda had just passed a law stating witches could hold positions of power within their covens and the Churches of Darkness.  

Lounging on the couch in what was technically Faustus’ office, Zelda watched as the warlock struggled against his bounds. “I won’t need you much longer, dear husband.” She informed him, eyes gleaming cruelly. “As I’m sure you’re aware, you’ve praised me highly to both the High Council and the witching realm as the inspiration for all these popular reforms, for the peace we’ve been enjoying. With this new law, I will be the logical choice to become the next Antipope when you meet a sudden and unfortunate end. I’ll mourn you publicly, of course, but then I’ll bravely rally to carry the cause my late husband and I worked so hard to further. The High Council will fall over themselves in their haste to appoint me.”

“You won’t get away with it.” Faustus forced through clenched teeth, eyes a little manic. “You’ll crumble under the power and pressure.”

She smirked and continued to paint her nails. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown, dearest. You’d know, you crumbled pathetically fast under the weight when you got your hands on it. Fortunately for the witching realm, I wear and bear the crown so much better.”

Before he could argue further, Zelda cocked her head. “The worm crawls in...” she sang, inspecting her now finished manicure, and Faustus was back under.

Muttering a quick spell to dry her nails, Zelda teleported home, perhaps Hilda would have some creative ideas for murdering her husband and making it look an accident when the time came.

[hollywoodhangar]

If you're still accepting, the goblins for the ship meme pls :>

send me a ship and I’ll tell you.. // @silvcrreaper & @wolfofwinchester! ps. it’ll be my pleasure! c:

Who said “I love you” first

Azrael. While Claudia did the chasing and certainly planned to be the one to do the first “I love you”, he took her by complete surprise by being the one to say so first, because being the romantic he is, of course he would. Point for the Fox! She gets him back later when she proposes.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

They both do! Claudia’s is currently one of UT & Gelert all cuddled up and mushed together in bed snoozing the day away (her silver boys!), and his keeps changing because she has so many moments where she’s just perfect for a picture; right now, it’s a picture of her coyly peeking over a book and smirking at him (the book is titled “101 Ways to Hide a Dead Body”, btw). 

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

They both do. From sweet messages to tic-tac-toe to secret codes of information concerning their sources and whatever case Claudia might be working on at the time, along with leaked information from the Queen that he’d find interesting. Mirrors are their thing. Eventually there’s going to be an enchanted mirror involved, I swear.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

The cheesiest thing they have is “If lost, return to Little/Big Spook” & “I’m Little/Big Spook” poet shirts and it was an idea born from the both of ‘em. Otherwise, their gifts really aren’t that cheesy? They’re mostly handcrafted things, unless you count toys as “cheesy”, then Claudia’s the one to be the cheester due to how she always makes fun wooden gadgets for UT. Spinning tops, wooden cats, dice, a small deck of wooden cards.

Who initiated the first kiss

Azrael. Here he is stunning her with another first move that she very well intended to take! I imagine it being very sweet too, like I just get the image of her chasing him around the forest behind the manor and when she finally catches him behind a tree, he gently rests a hand against the trunk and leans down to press a kiss into her lips. The golden glow of the autumn sun catching her eyes and the silhouette of leaves dancing across her face just made it too perfect for him to resist. Totally flustered her, but also made her melt. Point two for the Fox! 

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Claudia’s the morning person (although it’s so fun to stay up late and run amok in the night with her spook), so she’s always the first one up. The hot iron’s worn its straightening affect from her hair, so raven blue curls tickle Azrael’s face as she leans down to kiss her Prince Charming awake, and proceeds to pepper his entire face with kisses and little sneaky nips until he wakes up!  

Who starts tickle fights

Look at them, they can’t keep their hands to themselves. THEY BOTH START IT. It’s just a matter of who springs it the quickest! Rascals, both of ‘em!

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

I think UT has this one! I can see him asking if he could join instead of suddenly springing it on her --- unlike Claudia, who does spring it on him with little-to-no warning, especially if it’s in the morning and she needs to rush to duty! He just feels her presence, turns and HELLO NAKED LOVE OF MY LIFE FANCY MEETING YOU HERE. (sorry man, she’s yours to deal with now)

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

They both do! Him moreso because she can get very enraptured in her daily duties and needs someone there to put a hand down to make her slow her roll so she can eat. She’s an unstoppable force who needs an immovable object to make her take five! Which he, very successfully, is! But she does still have her very copious times where she’ll stop by and bring him a basket full of goodies to munch on and tug him away from mortuary work to eat. They both see each other fed. uvu They fuss over the other like that. 

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

I believe you mentioned he’d be a little nervous because of what this could do to her public image, but she soon takes those worries off his mind and it just settles into a really, really sweet and romantic date that just lasts for hours upon hours. It’s an affair that started early in the day and ends sometime past midnight because time just got away from them. Hours tend to do that when they’re hanging out period, 1pm suddenly becomes 6pm. It only makes sense for a date to have such a strong effect as well. Neither regret it. :’)

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Both! Claudia either captures them (spells & potions could always use spiders :)) or she sets them free, but UT .. as you said before .. eats them, and it never fails to make her body jitter as she gives such a visual reaction of disgust; shaking her head, hanging her tongue out, making noises of disgust! “Why ya do that?? That coulda been poisonous!!” “Yet I’m still standin’. c: Plus they’re very crunchy~” “BLAUGH.” and if he ever tries to lean in to kiss or nip at her, he gets her palm directly planted into his face shoving him back. “Oooh no, no, no! You wash that mouth of yours before ya bring it near me!”

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Claudia.... She’s even serenaded him a few times with her fiddle. It’s always.. shockingly good, too? She’s drunk off her rocker but she’s out here singing an Irish Ballad of Love pretty damn well while proclaiming her love for him! Get you a woman who’ll romance you even when she’s completely schnockered? //laughs

[deadrcbins]

Oneshot Requests! (Bonus: Jeffmads headcanons!)

Yeah, I’m pretty imitable and unoriginal. Sorry, Aaron. Anyway, like a majority of the fandom, I’m making Hamilton one shots! I take requests, I’m great with any angst, no smut, and I’m great with fluff, as well! 

(The cover is John Laurens approved, even though he preferred birds to turtles, the background looked nice.)

SO, onto ships!

I do:

~Jeffmads, since that’s my OTP

~Lams, since it’s also OTP

~Mullette, because it’s OTP in the fandom and in my heart

And literally ANY other ship in the fandom. ANY. If I name them all, I can go on for days!

The exceptions are incest between the Schuylers, and Washette/Whamilton unless there’s no age gap. 

Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

PLEASE NOTE THAT I’LL DO HEADCANONS BEFORE I DO MY ONESHOTS! THANKS!

~

Jeffmads Headcanons:

Let’s start with Madison:

How do they react to a breakup?

James will usually cry a lot and shut himself inside the house for a bit until Thomas comes over and forces him into a Disney movie marathon, complete with ice cream, pillow forts, and a lot of blankets. Of course, this was before Thomas and James professed their undying love for each other. He also becomes very moody and becomes the ULTIMATE emo kid, often dressed in dark and everything. He’ll also contemplate what he did wrong in the relationship and wallow in his self-pity for a bit. This span stretches out for two weeks before he’s back to normal, and so far, he’s only had two breakup episodes.

What would they do if they caught their soulmate cheating?

James’ entire world would crash down. Everything falls out of orbit, and it’d be exactly his worst fear. Thomas is a real good-looking guy...why would he even want to be with James when there are so many other people much more impressive than James? He’d definitely fall into depression. It’d be horrifying for him. Life’s colorful palette would surely turn monotonous. 

Would they leave in the middle of an argument?

No, never. Thomas and James have an envious relationship with each other, and it never becomes that extreme. They’ll talk it out and compromise when it gets to this point. This is quite seldom, though, and over odd issues. 

“Tommy! You’ve burned my favorite pan! Now my omelette won’t taste as good!”

“Buy a new one, then, Jemmy! That YouTube video was so hard to follow!”

Would they make up after a huge argument?

Most definitely. They’re a power couple, a force to be reckoned with!

If James would break up with Thomas, for what reason would it be?

Thomas is too easily jealous of anyone even looking at James the wrong way. He’s a bit clingy, as well. Also, Thomas ends up in a lot of fights with Hamilton, and James gets worried for Thomas’ safety. Gremlin though he may be, he also went to summer military academy, so Hamilton is stronger than he lets on. Thomas has height and build, but can’t channel much of it.

Moving on their S/O?

Jemmy would be horribly depressed, but life has a way of moving on whether you wish to or not. He’ll most likely never find passionate love again, and Thomas remains etched into his memory for life.

Emotions while arguing?

Mostly irritation and annoyance, and afterward, regret and sadness.

How do they and their S/O deal with loss?

It was Thomas who experienced loss, between losing his father at fourteen, and Martha Wayles, his high school sweetheart. James comforted him both times. Madison lost his grandmother to cancer a few years back, and he immediately fell into a grievance for months. His grandmother was his only confidant after Thomas left for Paris, and it disheartened him greatly. He’d never felt so alone in the world, and on top of that, while Thomas was gone, James’ parents pressured him in the first place to go to that highly competitive boarding school for the gifted and talented. He developed his anxiety and anxious introvertedness (Is that a word?) that would plague him for quite a while after. He fears not being good enough, and he constantly feels incompetent and unimportant, despite Thomas’ protests. He kept a secret from Thomas. He tried to take his own life. He stopped hurting himself after Thomas and James got together. 

Biggest regret? 

James’ biggest regret was not being able to maintain the best relationship with his grandmother, who was the one pillar in his life, as he lived with her for two years while James’ parents sent him off to school two hours from there, in the same town Gramma lived. 

Thomas’ Headcanons:

How do they react to a breakup?

Thomas has only been in two relationships before James. Before he met Martha, there was this girl named Sally who dumped Thomas for someone named William Clark. He was depressed, quiet, reserved, and sad for a week with Sally gone, and he was horribly self conscious about his tics, he was fidgety, too. It was horribly out of character, and even Hamilton bought Jefferson a cupcake. He compared himself to everyone else for ages after that. Luckily James was great at comforting, and he was so kind to Thomas afterwards. James made Thomas Mac ‘N’ Cheese and they both pranked Hamilton secretly just for fun, He bottles his emotions until the last day of his phase, then cracks. The next day, he’s back to normal.

Would they ever leave in the middle of an argument?

Again, no, never. Thomas might get stressed out trying to compete with Hamilton at work and work itself, and/or might have had a bad day occasionally, so he’ll be extra moody those days. James knows that he’s anxious about something, so he tries to give Thomas space those days, often reading or watching TV or doing something quietly until he cools off.

Would they make up after an argument?

Most definitely. Thomas is a little puppy. He’ll always come back, loyal and a tad clingy. They enjoy talking out their issues and compromise. 

If Thomas were to break up with James, for what reason would it be?

Thomas loves James and you cannot convince anyone otherwise. Cons

Moving on from their S/O?

Thomas actually had to do this with Martha. In the beginning, it was difficult, and he fell down a vortex of emotions, feelings he wasn’t used to feeling, and like with Sally, Hamilton tried his hardest to console Thomas so that they could fight again. Thomas hates being alone, and losing James as well...it’s unimaginable.

Emotions while arguing:

First, it’s annoyance and irritation, then guilt and sadness. 

How do they and their S/O deal with loss?

It was Thomas who experienced loss, between losing his father at fourteen, and Martha Wayles, his high school sweetheart. James comforted him both times. He likes to keep it private, you won’t even know he cried. Mostly his way of accepting is helping and comforting other people, and shuts his emotions and mourns privately.

What is their biggest regret?

Not getting to say goodbye to his father and Martha, who both died in car crashes. Martha died, she was going with her friend Merida, who survived, on their way to A La Mode, and Peter, Randolph, and Thomas were involved in a car crash the year before, after coming back from a guys’ day out fishing trip. He feels he distracted the drivers both times and deaths were his fault, though it wasn’t. Thomas rode shotgun, giving him his cane, and Randolph had his spleen removed. Elizabeth, their sister who had autism and brain trouble, went crazy after hearing of the crash and refused to sit in a car. They give her Benadryl or sleep medicine. now for necessary trips. A secret Thomas kept from James was that he failed a suicide attempt, but doesn’t self-harm anymore after James and himself got together. Little did he know, while he was in France...James, ever depressed, tried the same thing.    

[griffelkinn]

Letter to a Man

I wish all men would read this letter. I am a woman who is attracted to men. But it seems impossible to find romance and friendship with a man, as much as I wish I could.

This is a letter I wrote to a man I met on Okcupid, and started a friendship with, and then ended the friendship shortly after.

The reason that I ended the friendship was because while we were on a hike, he began talking at length about his feelings that men suffer from oppression and women are privileged. He also emotionally defended incels and misogynists, and said women needed to be kinder to them. He also expressed sympathy toward rapists.

After our hike, we texted, and he continued expressing supportive feelings toward misogynists. And so over text, I said that I felt we should part ways, and shouldn’t hang out anymore. After that, he sent me a letter in the mail, and I wrote him this letter in return.

I wish all men could read this letter...

“Brian,

I didn't want to cause you pain or sadness, the other day. I knew that I probably did, and that made me feel pain myself.

Your letter was very thoughtful, and I was glad to read it. I appreciated the time you took to write it, and your sincerity. I do hope you'll read this letter, and know that it is a very serious and honest outpouring of my feelings. I want you to understand. I know it might seem like a wall of text, but every word of it feels important to tell you.

When I first moved to San Francisco, my very first friend in the whole state was a guy named Roger. We got along really well, and immediately became very close, and had fun together constantly. We cooked, and lay in the park, and got drunk, and joked around, and tried new snacks, and got ice cream on hot days, and even got some acid on the street and tripped together on Halloween to Nightmare Before Christmas. We were super close for months. Then he randomly started passionately ranting about how rape is a very mild crime, and people shouldn't get too bothered if it happens to them, or punished for doing it either. He went on about how rapists were usually molested at some point, and they deserved sympathy. Not to have their lives negatively impacted by getting in trouble for raping someone. Also, that they can't help doing it, like it's a nervous tic. We talked and argued about it for hours. All of those points. Finally I left, because I was shaking with anger and emotion, and he was very passionately defending everything he'd said with no moving at all.

I was especially shaken by his tirade because it was an exact echo of the many tirades the violent psycho I was trapped living with years ago used to go on. All of those points were favorites of his to passionately rant about. That guy had also been my best friend, before I got a place with him (accessible only by his truck), and also before he dropped his carefully-constructed façade of a great person. He also used to rant about how 15-year-old girls are the most appropriate breeding partners for men, and how women's sports are a joke, and how girls are biologically inclined to bear children and take care of them. Also that men are currently generously "allowing their women to become educated". He had been jailed for rape. He was sadistic, in ways I could never describe.

I didn't see my friend Roger anymore after that. All of his weird rapist-support arguments were so similar to the psycho's, and also extremely suggestive of his own tendencies. He did later tell me in a text that he was one of the rapists he was defending.

Later when I was working at Whole Foods, I became really good friends with this guy named Greg, who also worked there. We became instantly great buddies, and did all kinds of stuff together. We went on road trips, went out for pizza regularly, and learned how to make silicone molds and castings together. We were both really into art and painting. We swapped comics, and discovered Stranger Things together. I actually started getting a crush on him, which was a big thing for me. Then one night we were parked in front of my apartment, cause he was dropping me off after we'd spent a whole day having fun around the city and then making molds at his apartment. We didn't even want to say good night, because we wanted to keep hanging out and talking. We started talking about how we were both really happy that we'd become friends. And then he told me that his last best friend and him had parted badly, and he was disappointed. So then, I told him I'd had something similar happen, and I told him about Roger. I told him about the argument me and Roger had had about rape and rapists, and how that had ended the friendship, and how sad it was. And then Greg said "Well, it does make you think..." And I asked what about. And he then launched into a passionate rant feeling sorry for rapists. I think my jaw hung down 3 feet. I was just stunned. He started talking about Brock Turner, the rapist from a few years ago who was all over the news. The one who got barely any jail time, because the judge felt sorry for him and didn't want his life negatively impacted by his raping that girl.

Greg went on and on about how it was terrible that Brock Turner was going to be known as a rapist now, and how sad that was for him. He'd made one tiny little mistake anyone could make, and now he's gonna be thought of badly. He didn't seem aware of the other person involved whose life actually was negatively impacted. I argued all of his ideas about his "tiny mistake", and also how sad it was for him now. I wanted to understand why Greg was saying this stuff. I must be misunderstanding. We talked about it until 4 in the morning in the car, until finally I had to go inside, because clearly there was no misunderstanding.

As soon as I got into my apartment, I cried on my couch. I was so sad, because I liked Greg so much, and this was how he was. I knew our friendship was over. We decided to get together the next night and see if there was really a misunderstanding that maybe we could figure out had happened. At a bar, he told me it's his nature, when he sees a viewpoint that's hard to agree with at first, to try to figure out a way it could be agreed with. He's just really intelligent and quick and enjoys doing that. That was obviously not what was happening.

Before meeting you on Okcupid, I'd met one other guy this year. He told me he'd forced himself sexually on a girl once, and he was sorry for it now.

A friend I met while living in Maine for a while years ago (between CA and FL) was a guy named Doug, I met on Okcupid. He assaulted me.

Another friend I met on Okcupid in that same stay was a guy named Nate. He assaulted me.

I wanted to tell you about Roger and Greg, because they are really what led to my action after our text conversation. When you and me were walking that day, I didn't react much at the time, but I was very unsettled when you mentioned how rapists were usually molested themselves. I've been just confused and frustrated that I very rarely meet a man who doesn't sympathize with rapists or misogynists. It's like 1 in a million. When you said that, I was internally thinking, you probably feel like Roger and Greg. When you said that you like to try to see the side of people who have an extreme viewpoint, and that's why you tried to see the side of misogynists, it sounded exactly like Greg later explaining his rape-sympathizing.

I know I had lots of fun kayaking with you, and playing 7 Days to Die, and talking about tripping, and watching Chappie. The letter you wrote me was really thoughtful, and made me feel how much you care and how much you were focused on self-awareness, which is really awesome.

I told you about Doug and Nate, because I want you to understand why I have so much hesitancy about hanging out. Sadly, since we haven't known each other long, I am strongly affected by the percentage of times I've made a male friend and had them assault me or reveal that they support rapists.

Those examples are not the only times I've been assaulted.

In my opinion, the number-one cause of the extreme amount of rapists, is how much support rapists get. And misogynists. 99.9% men seem to support them. Male rappers and sportsmen remain heroes after assaulting women. Male judges give rapists such light sentencing that it seems less serious than drug crimes or theft. Movies and tv show heroes and "cool" characters are often raping and joking about it. Everywhere, whenever I turn on the tv it seems like.

I remember when I was a kid, and I used to run around town playing with this big group of all the town kids, and we were all friends. I had some really great friends who were boys, who lived around me, and we used to hang out and mess around and we didn't see each other as a different species. We hadn't been brainwashed yet. It makes me deeply sad that that kind of camaraderie between men and women seems like a fantasy now. I hope it's still around.

It's so upsetting to think about that stuff, and I am filled with so much unease when I'm around people who I think might see me as a "woman-creature" that can never be understood or related to. I walk around thinking in the back of my mind that I might have a violent encounter at any given time, and I'm prepared for it mentally. I'm positive there will be more in the future.

I really want you to understand me, because I don't want you to feel bad or upset or hurt or offended. I know that I offended you and hurt you when I said I thought you were a man like those others. All I knew was that you were saying things that they all say, and that it has hurt me deeply to hear those things from friends in the past. It hurt so much that it makes me not want to risk becoming very close when there's any indication that those feelings about rapists and misogynists are part of someone. From your letter it sounds like you also empathize with those who are hurt by misogyny. You feel bad for your misogynist and racist uncle, and for all others. And empathy is a wonderful quality. Empathy is one of the most important things to have. And the most respectable. But I do think the cause of so much misogyny and rape is this overabundance of sympathy for them (and far too little for the people who are actually seriously hurt by them).

I don't want bad feelings between us. I want good feelings. I have good feelings toward you. I am just sad and tired and just... confused and frustrated that I've never met a man who just completely was angry and disgusted with rapists and misogynists, and spoke as passionately about that as they so often speak passionately about sympathizing with them. I don't know what that means for the state of people right now. I don't say this to single you out or to try and make you feel bad. It's just something I've been thinking a lot about, that's got me down. And hearing certain arguments and opinions about that stuff so often makes me feel down. Also, there were other things you said during our hike that made it seem like you were very emotionally into the idea that men have it harder than women. It really seemed like something you think about a lot and feel strongly about. I was walking in a constant state of "What-the?". Maybe that's not true. It just seemed like a continuous vibe.

I hope you understand that I didn't end things with us out of anything personal with you. I really enjoyed most of our times together, and I will remember them with happiness. I hope you make many more beautiful potteries, and have fun and happiness. Empathy is a great thing to have, it's just that those specific sympathies make me very unhappy to be around, in a really big way, now.

-C”