#i shouldn’t add so many tags man

[bratphilia]

grasp (w. afton x reader)

request: "I don’t really have a coherent story (just some thots) but i’d kill for some sort of smuttyyy ficlet that has the reader who is very short as in 4 foot 10 and has petite features (just like me 😵‍💫) being picked up and slung over Matthew Lillard!William Afton’s shoulder 🥴🥴 Include reader being scared and trying to wriggle free??? (due to her seeing or knowing something she shouldn’t have about Raglan) and some name-calling like ‘little one’, ‘good girl’ & ‘atta girl’ 🤤 - 🧸"

note: hi nonniebear!! i'm sorry if this fic is a little rushed but i tried to stay true to what you requested! hope you enjoy and feel free to keep sending in more ideas :)

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: bondage, praise kink, fingering, squirting, begging

fuck. you're really in for it now. 

this yellowish, decaying rabbit stalks towards you, and there are four, sentient and bloodthirsty animatronics behind you. 

you're stuck. 

even worse, the rabbit came from the entrance, so if you were to try to make your escape that way there was a likelihood of you running into his knife.

"please," you find yourself pleading. "please don't kill me."

the rabbit laughs menacingly and bends down to your level. "how about this? i'll give you a head start." 

without any further questions you bolt through the maze of halls and towards the office. you crouch down in front of the vent the rabbit was referring to and unscrew the bolts barricading it. thank god you're small enough to fit in the vents. this might actually work.

then you hear unmistakeable, thumping footsteps coming towards you. 

it only hurries your actions. your heart rate rapidly increases. the screws are so aged with rust that it's hard to—

the door opens with a loud thud. you scream at the noise, and again when you're being lifted off the ground. it's the yellow rabbit. 

it slings you over its shoulder with unmatched strength. you wail incoherent words and pleas as you pound the back of the suit with balled fists. 

"help me!" you scream out to no one. "somebody help!" 

the rabbit wordlessly carries you down the hall, to one of the locked doors you dared not to venture into during your shifts. it carried you down a couple stairs and then set you on a dentist-office-style chair. 

at this point tears are rolling down your face. eyes are shut in fear of looking your captor in the eyes. uncontrollable sobs escape your mouth, praying that these aren't your final moments. then the rabbit wraps both hands (paws?) around your wrists and holds them to the arm handles so that restraints can bolt around them. 

"oh, save it," he says, clearly annoyed with your crying. "i've heard it all before, you don't deserve to die, and all that."

your eyes shoot open. the rabbit's voice no longer sounds robotic and you realize you actually recognize it. 

in a very dramatic fashion, it's steve raglan. your career counsellor, a.k.a the man who got you this job in the first place. 

he almost looks ridiculous in the rabbit suit, which admittedly doesn't add much to his already sizeable frame, but you can't find the humor in the situation in which you could be seconds away from dying in. 

"why?" you find yourself asking, suddenly more curious than hysteric. "why give me this job if you were just going to kill me in the end?" 

"because you got a little too close to the truth, and for some reason, those brats up there were unable to take care of the job themselves," he snarls resentfully. he must be referencing the animatronics. it makes sense now— the kids in the drawings with the yellow rabbit on the wall. 

"it was you. you killed those kids."

steve gives you a horrible smile. one that almost makes you weak, with that dimple you recognize from many conversations in his office. "you finally figured it out."

he walks behind you, shuffling around in the suit, and you crane your neck around to see him taking it off. he's wearing a white tee and dark purple slacks. he's not particularly muscular, but not thin either. it's a build specific to middle aged men. you hate to admit it, but your face flushes when you notice how large his hands are. 

he catches you looking at him and smiles, cocking his head curiously. "see something you like, little night guard?" instantly you whip your head back around. your head is at a moral war with itself, with you being disappointed in yourself that you were actually checking out a child serial killer. 

but steve doesn't leave it alone. once he abandons the suit, he swiftly strides over you. he places both hands on your restraints, caging you in. you shrink into yourself. 

"i think," he says lowly, "i might have a different use for you, little one. one that we can both enjoy." 

you swallow, not saying anything. steve reaches a hand up to slide down your face then cup your jaw. his hands are cold to the touch and it sends shivers down your spine. 

you find your voice. "don't touch me."

"don't touch you? are you sure?" he says cockily and you can only glare at him in response. 

"what if i just..." he trails off, sliding the hands on his face down your neck, your chest, abdomen, and eventually your core. he presses his hand there hard, making you jolt upwards and whimper. "so you don't want me to touch you, is what i'm hearing?"

fuck. this undeniably hot serial killer has you at his disposal and you can't help but feel turned on. if you're going to die, and your chances really aren't looking good for you, maybe you should just...

"please," you murmur, closing your legs so they trap his hand there.

"please, what?"

you swallow. "please fuck me." 

"'atta girl." he grins from ear to ear. "y'know, all that begging you did earlier really did a number on me, but i must say i love this change of heart."

steve starts to undo the buttons of your slacks and begins to pull them down, leaving you bare in your underwear. it's at this point you realize how wet you are, and you try to relieve the tension in your core by squeezing your thighs together but he grabs your legs and presses them to your stomach. you're just so malleable to him.

he tugs off your panties and discards them mindlessly. "look at that," he marvels at your bare skin, "so pretty, little one."

you squirm against the restraints a little. at this point the anticipation will kill you faster than he will. you wish he would just touch you already, but you had to admit all his praises were only adding to your arousal.

steve decides to sit a little further down the chair and wordlessly plunges a finger inside your pussy. he goes deliberately slow, clearly gaging your reaction. "fuck," you mutter, and it takes all your strength to not buck your hips into his movements.

"you need this, don't you, sweet girl?" he muses, stopping the thrusting of his fingers, but still keeping them inside. "tell me."

"please, please, please..." tears coat your lashes from all the teasing. "'need it so bad."

he gives you a kind smile, one you haven't seen since you were back in his office. "good girls get what they ask for. "

steve slides in a second finger and begins to pump faster. it's an improvement but you find yourself needing more. you buck your hips up hoping he would get the message and he simply laughs lowly as he adds a third finger into the mix.

his pace gets progressively faster over time to your delight. the noises coming from your center is absolutely obscene. you can feel your juices dripping down onto the seat.

"ah — ah!" you cry out, feeling your orgasm nearing. "i'm coming — please, slow down—"

you squeeze your eyes shut. all the sudden the chair is abnormally wetter than you would have expected and— oh.

your face burns bright red. "i-i'm sorry..."

he's shocked, mouth agape and eyes slightly widened. then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "don't you dare apologize, little one, let's try that again."

[steveandbuckysdaughter]

Have you ever noticed that ever since season one of What If introduced Captain Carter, she's been showing up a lot more than Sam Wilson as Captain America? I once queationed it, which pissed off some Peggy stans on this site to the point where I had to alter the tags so I wouldn't have to deal with them.

Oh yeah I did, trust me, you’re not the only one. Many Sam or Steve or Bucky stans and, yk, Peggy antis here on tumblr noticed it, but her stans are just too stubborn to accept it.

In my humble opinion, I think Peggy is simply a better character for marvel to sell as cap (and not for the right reasons), which is why Sam’s cap hasn’t appeared in 2/3 years and all of Steve’s appearances were butchered.

Steve is noble, all about freedom and doing what’s right. He was a disabled son of immigrants who knew struggle and, in his own words, didn’t like bullies no matter where they came from, which means that doing what was right to him was more important than any government, any authority. Civil War is all about this characterization of Steve, and it’s why he was the perfect man for the job.

Sam is like Steve. He is a noble man who knew struggle and suffering growing up, who lost loved ones, his place in the world the moment he chose to follow what was right instead of what was ordered to him. He was ridiculed and beaten down, and risked losing it all multiple times, but that never made him back down. Plus, to add fuel to the fire, the higher powers would have never accepted him as Captain America because he’s black, no matter if Captain America himself passed the mantle to him, they wouldn’t have accepted him and still didn’t right up to the finale of TFATWS. Sam is perfect for the job and mirrors Steve as the perfect Captain America of his time.

Peggy is… well, she’s nothing of these things.

Yes, she’s a woman, and so everyone would be expected to find sympathy for her, to root for her, but aside from her stans no one actually does. Peggy has a support system and respect, like it or not, and she was relevant. She’s arrogant, she’s headstrong, and she doesn’t go against the system because she is the system. She’s not a minority, she never knew struggle, hell, she lived a comfortable life up until the war and after. And marvel can use her more than Sam or Steve because she’s not troublesome like them, she’s not going to rebel the system if not for selfish reasons or plot points. She’s not Steve, she’s not Sam, and she shouldn’t be, but at the same time Peggy should not be a Captain that marvel should enforce in their media over and over again.

As Erskine said, “Because the strong man who has known power all his life may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength and knows... compassion.” And while Steve and Sam don’t know strength in the sense that Erskine disregards, Peggy does. And if anything, she resembles John Walker.

Not to mention she is no character of her own, she’s simply the mixture of some characters thrown together in a cauldron, and in addition she’s a Mary Sue. She is a villain masked as hero, one that is convenient as a character and can be thrown from side to side as if she was some Y/N insert in an avengers fanfic.

Not only she has made more appearances than the current Captain America, but she managed to insert herself in the majority of What If…’s storylines, even more than actual main characters. Like, you want to tell me people actually want yet another episode about Peggy or with Peggy being a major character instead of Wanda, Loki or the main six avengers? No one does, not even the stans with a functioning brain. But Marvel will not stop, and whatever chokehold Hayley Atwell has on them will last until she’ll be satisfied with the colonization of all the possible marvel projects.

So ultimately, to answer your question: yes, I did notice Sam is being overshadow by a dusty side character that should have stayed dead back in 2016. You’re not alone, and I’m glad I’m not either. If you scroll on my profile you’ll soon find an old post of mine from last year, during the MoM era, where I was talking about this issue, and a Peggy stan went ballistic and on a rant on how I was using Sam as an excuse to hate on Peggy and justify Stucky. (Btw nice move altering the hashtags, I’ve done it too and it’s been a blessing for me.)

Feel free to check that post and come back in the asks, I’d love to discuss that and maybe share some posts regarding the issue (if I can find them lol)

[autumnaaltonen]

Anonymous requested: "headcannons about Alucard and Alexander Anderson being in love with the same S/O?"

I was feeling more in the one-shot mood, so I hope you like this either way.

Alucard and Alexander Anderson Being in Love With The Same S/O

It started at the National Gallery, where you tagged along with Sir Integra, Walter, Seras and (you think?) Alucard. Tbh, he disappeared the moment you all stepped out of the limo, so you imagine the flirtatious vampire has wandered off to find a dark closet to rest in before being called upon when if things go awry.

Seras, too, leaves you three, mentioning something about “finding a good plan B”. Whatever the hell that meant.

So that just left you, Sir Integra, and Walter, to wander about the marble hallways of paintings, waiting for your invited company to arrive.

If only they would show up on time for once…

“What nuisances,” Integra grumbles, before turning to you. “Go see if you can weed the heretics out. I’m positive they are perusing the exhibit, purposefully wasting our time.”

“Of course, Sir,” you obey, bowing slightly before making your way through the maze-like museum. You imagine that whoever the has Iscariot sent to London; well, they must stick out of the average crowd.

Scanning the tourists for holy robes, uniforms, hell, even a gun or sword, you fail to spot anybody who could possibly be your tardy visitors. Eventually you resort to exploring the forbidden staff area, knowing that both Hellsing and the Iscariot have the pontifical balls to break simple rules. Opening many doors with obvious ‘DO NOT ENTER’ and ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’ signs, but finding most of them locked, you sigh in disappointment, deciding to make your way back to your boss.

But then you spot a familiar head of blonde hair, exactly where she shouldn't be.

“Seras, is that you? What the hell are you doing back here?” you call to her, seeing the young vampire in an unfamiliar uniform. She gives you a cheeky smile and an awkward wave, before disappearing around a corner. Tailing her, you run back down the hall, only to turn the same corner and collide into what you could only assume to be a wall, solid and sturdy as you smack face first and begin fall to the ground. Startled and blurry-eyed, you prepare to break your fall before a very long and strong arm catches you around your shoulders.

“Woah there, friend. Are you alright?” an unfamiliar Irish-tongued man asks, lifting you back onto your feet. You rub your sore forehead, blinking your vision back to coherency before looking up…up...and up, to your human wall.

Christ, he’s tall.

“Haha, yes, indeed you can thank our lord and saviour for that.”

“Oh wow, did I say that out loud? I’m so sorry—” you spy the golden crucifix and clerical collar around his neck, “—Father. I shouldn’t have been running. I saw that my friend had gottn a bit lost and…well she’s gone now.” You huff in annoyance, knowing you’ll give Seras a good talking to later. She’s becoming far too much like her new master as of late.

“All is well, my dear. Actually, I have found me’self a bit lost as well; the museum is just so beautiful that I stumbled off course!” he laughs jovially.

You smile back, knowing you’ve found your man. “Actually, Father, you are just the person I’ve been looking for.” You lift your arm band slightly for the priest to see, telling him your name and position in the Hellsing Organization.

You see his cheerful smile damper a bit at the Hellsing insignia on your uniform, before quickly recovering. “I see. Father Alexander Anderson, at your service, my dear.” He bows his head towards you, “please call me Alexander. After all, you and I come from two very different clergies, I imagine.”

“A pleasure, Alexander. Although, I like to keep my faith ambiguous,” you add. “Sir Integra is waiting for you in the Sainsbury Wing, if you would please follow me.” You raise an arm in the direction out of the staff wing.

“What about your wee friend?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll find her way spontaneously back. Come, let’s not keep Sir waiting any longer, she can be quite the impatient woman.”

Alexander follows you back into the exhibits, making small talk along the way by commenting on the many displays. While a member of Iscariot, you discern Alexander to be a kind man with an eye for art. He tells you small sermons associated with some of the Italian pieces, amazing you with his theological knowledge, and letting him know so. You never imagined an enemy could be so enjoyable to talk to. But you suppose he’s only your enemy by association.

“I take it you are familiar with Hellsing’s pet vampire, dear?” he suddenly asks out of the blue, making you stop pause in surprise. His tone is pleasant, but his face tells something more. You recognize it as hidden disdain, masked behind innocent curiosity.

“Erm, yes, I am.” That was the understatement of the century. You have become more than a little familiar with Alucard over the years you’ve worked by Integra’s side. If you had to describe him in three words, it would be devious, coquettish, and handsy. He has made it more than clear that he has developed an attraction towards you, yet you have hesitated to return the handsome vampire’s advances in fear of getting played. Surely a creature of his stature could never have feelings for a human such as yourself, right? So, you’ve remained neutral, neither encouraging his inviting caresses and seductive words, nor pushing him away.

“We’re coworkers,” you affirm. “But I would not describe us as anything more, though Alucard can get a tad possessive,” you admit.

Alexander sighs with sympathy, suddenly draping an arm around your shoulders, just like he had when he caught you on your fall. He continues to lead you through the museum, not particularly focussed on finding your desired destination any time soon. “A shame. A pretty young soul such as yourself should never feel controlled by a vile monster.”

You purse your lips at the compliment, never hearing a man of the cloth make such a comment before, let alone towards yourself. His hand lowers from your shoulder to your middle back, pulling you gently ever-so-closer to his side.

“Just let me know if you ever need a delivering hand to aid you in a time of need, and the Lord shall answer your call,” he winks at you with a smile, making you giggle in disbelief.

“Father, are you flirting with me?” you ask with mock scepticism.

“Don’t ya worry, dear. I’m more than happy to look at the menu. It's ordering that’ll require a confession out of me. Or two.”

You giggle at his boldness, before the both of you hear an angry cry echo down the hallways.

“Anderson!”

Alexander frowns, before removing his arm from around you. “Please excuse me, my dear. It seems we have missed introductions.” He cracks his knuckles together, before two silver bayonets are unsheathed, seemingly out of nowhere. You gasp in shock as he stalks his way down the hall with a malicious grin on his face, sermons spilling from his mouth as he makes his way to his target.

You follow quickly behind, practically running to keep up with the tall priest. Down the hall you spot Sir Integra, Walter, and also Alucard with his gun’s raised, pointing them at the two other Iscariot members you missed in your search. You know this was going to lead to only one thing.

Alucard laughs maliciously. “Neither of us could ever back down in front of an enemy. Come on then, Judas priest!”

“What a coincidence. You won’t be so lucky this time, vampire. Do you enjoy playing with God’s most gifted children so?”

Jesus Christ on earth. “Stop!” both you and the silver-haired Iscariot member yell at the same time.

You see Alucard’s eyes widen as he catches you running behind from where Alexander had appeared. A scowl replaces his bloodthirsty smile. “What were you doing over there, Catholic? How dare you even breathe the same air as my beloved!”

“Beloved?” Alexander sneers. “How delusional! You really think this beautiful soul would ever be with a putrid demon such as yourself?”

“I’m ordering you to stop!” the Iscariot man repeats.

You've had enough of their cat fighting. You yourself between your quarrelling admirers and silently pray to God (or beg to Satan) that your new knights aren’t feeling as trigger-happy today.

“Hi! Right this way, everybody!” Seras practically yells into your ear, as a flock of elderly Japanese tourists stumble their way around you. “Everyone with the Japanese tour right this way, please! Kochira e dōzo!”

Seras' can-do attitude and smile is a welcome de-escalation of the tense situation. You only wish she had let you know beforehand, before deciding to run away.

Alucard fluidly moves his way through the murmuring crowd, grabs you by your waist and leads you back behind Sir Integra and Walter, much to Alexander’s detestation.

“What were you doing with him?” Alucard glowers.

“I was doing my job, since you decided to disappear," you huff.

“I was making sure the area was safe, for your and my master’s protection. Don’t you know who that priest is? He’s just as much a monster as I. I won’t allow him to go near you again.”

“And what makes your attitude any different from his? How is that any of your business? ” you glare back, not pleased with being pulled around so much today.

Alucard lowers to your level, getting in your face. “You are my business. You are mine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, monster.” Alexander approaches from behind you both, bayonets thankfully gone from his hands. “I think the dear knows the path they walk, and it is not beside you.”

Alucard turns with a hiss, prepared to start the fight anew when it was your heart on the line. Hell, you know Alucard wouldn’t hesitate to bring about WW3 for you.

You stomp your foot on the ground in frustration. “I don’t need either of you to speak on my behalf. The path I walk is my choice alone, and at this moment, it’s away from both of you pompous idiots!” you yell, before turning on your heel towards the pavilion to prepare it for Integra’s meeting. Both of the men look at your back with marvel, before glaring at one another.

Maybe a war really was about to begin?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: I love Gaz, he’s too adorable. I love the line where he screams “I’m not dead! I’m hanging from a bloody rope”

I hope you enjoy it !!

Kyle knew he should have been with you, he knew you shouldn’t have been alone. He tried, god did he try to save you but he could only watch through his scope as you got taken. As you tried to take as many of the men out as you could. He felt sick to his stomach watching you struggle, watching them knock you out. His heart hammering as your body slumped forward.

His voice was raw from screaming your name, he was begging Price that they had to do something, they had to save you.

“We’ll get her back Gaz…I promise.”

He knew Price wasn’t lying, he knew the man would do anything to help but he was not sure if Shepard would want to be involved.

•+•

“He can’t be serious! He just wants us…I’m not abandoning Y/n.” Gaz snapped. If he had to do it himself, if he had to rescue you by himself he will.

“GAZ! Calm down.” Price wasn’t surprised to see the man so worked up. He could not blame the man, not with how close you two were, the relationship you two had but he needed the man level headed. He can’t have him rush off and get himself killed.

“Calm down…I can’t.” Kyle refused to cry, refused to show any other information, he couldn’t. Not when you were in danger, not when you were hurt.

Lowering his gaze, he gave the man a nod as he refuses to look at him. “I’m sorry Captain.”

Shaking his head he patted Kyles shoulder then gave it a squeeze. “We will get her back.” Stating his previous conversation.

•+•

Falling from a helicopter was not something he would add to list of things he’d expected would happen. Jumping, truck to truck was something he never wanted go experience again but getting to you was his top priority.

After finally managing to stop the damn military truck he quickly rushed to the door only to jump back as you and one of the captures fell from the vehicle. Your legs around his neck as he and Price rushed to help you.

“No! he’s mine!” You growled out snapping his neck, the man falling lip as you pushed his body away, you were then pulled off the ground into Kyle’s arms. The man burying his face into his neck.

Relaxing into his arms, you hugged him close feeling tears against your neck. Pulling back you gave Gaz a smile cupping his cheek. “I’m so happy you see you.”

Looking you over, searching for any other wounds the man frowned. “Are you okay….of course you’re not. What kind of question is that.” He whispered the shook his head. “I am going to spoil the hell out of you.” He muttered giving you a gentle kiss.

Smiling against his lips you returned it back. “You don’t need to spoil me, as long as you’re here I’m happy.”

Clearing out his throat you both turned to face Price as you gave him a sheepish smile. “Thanks for the save.”

Chuckling, Price handed you a gun which you took. The man then ruffled your hair giving you a teasing smile. “You do not need to thank me. I wasn’t….we weren’t about to leave you behind.”

“Lucky me to have two amazing men that care about me.” You teased as Gaz huffed tugging you too his chest.

“Hey, she’s mine Price!”

Tag List:

@redpool

[bp-zb1fics]

hello !! i just binge watched the bridgerton and i was wondering if you could write something with lee jeonghyeon ! like the reader (it would be a girl but you can change it as nonbinary if you prefer) is secretly dating jeonghyeon, they have a dance/bal and someone is flirting with the reader, you can add whatever you want for the following part like smut or fluff or wtv haha !! btw could the reader be really kind and a bit blunt

Fill your heart with me

pairing: leejeong x fem reader ft. twin brother ricky

genre: regency/bridgerton era au, fluff, suggestive themes

tw/tags: regency etiquette, gossiping aunties, ricky is lowkey unbothered i guess, except when you call his full christian name, gyuvin is a gorgeous mess as usual, dancing, unwanted attention from some unnamed man, leejeong ex machina, banter, many "improper" kisses, leejeong simp lives on

wc: 1825

summary: your favoured suitor and soon-to-be fiance comes to the ball unexpectedly.

a/n ty anon for this! this is really so late but I really do love this req and i wanted to do it justice so I hope you enjoy~ also! there's a lot of like etiquette at play so this is the source i based it off if anyone's interested! also also xiǎo mèi means little sister (reader is the younger twin lol)

check my pinned for more fics!

“Miss Shen is indeed one of the jewels of the season”

“Certainly, she is of fair face and has many virtues.”

“I’ve been told that she is quite skilled in the art of languages, she plays the pianoforte quite well and her deportment is incomparable.”

“And the Shen family is quite wealthy, any gentleman would consider himself lucky to have her as his bride.”

You pointedly ignore the aunties whispering among themselves as you make your way across the floor. Your mother has taken ill this evening, leaving your brother to escort you around. It wasn’t too bad. If an overeager suitor was not to your liking, all Ricky had to do was stand tall and look down his nose at them. Unfortunately, that also went for the suitors that weren’t too bad as well.

“I didn’t like him, Xiǎo Mèi” He says to you as you both watch the poor man make his way back into the crowd, proverbial tail between his legs.

“Richard,” You hiss, drawing yourself to your full height which doesn’t really do anything since your brother is disgustingly vertically gifted. “You need to stop calling me that.”

“I’ll stop calling you that when you stop calling me Richard.”

“It’s what’s proper.”

“And I care because?”

“Ugh, you are infuriating.”

“And you have feathers in your hair.”

If you weren’t wearing one of your best gowns, low cut, splendidly embroidered white satin, trimmed with hideously expensive silver thread, you would have lunged at him already. Instead you settle for squeezing the arm you’re holding a little too hard, glad that your gloves would conceal how your knuckles strain. To your chagrin, you get nothing more than a slight wince.

Fortunately, someone else decides to barrel into him and if your brother was any less steady, he would have been knocked clean off his feet. Meanwhile, you’re fighting the urge to laugh hysterically. Kim Gyuvin may have half the ladies in the room falling over themselves for him but he possessed the grace of a newborn foal and the personality of a rambunctious puppy.

“Ricky-ah!” He greets your brother effusively before turning to you and playfully dipping his head into a pseudo-bow. “Miss Shen.”

“Mr. Kim.” You reply with your own little curtsey. 

There’s nothing more enjoyable than the look on your brother’s face right now. All the eligible ladies on your side of the room are giggling and whispering among themselves, definitely charmed by two of the season’s most eligible bachelors. You would be too, except one of them’s your brother and the other one is just as good as that in everything but name. None of them know about the time Kim Gyuvin threw a fit after your brother called his beloved lapdog something he probably shouldn’t have. You do. It sort of ruined any semblance of his image for you.

“As much as I know your brother makes delightful company,” Gyuvin begins. 

You stifle a giggle beneath your gloved hand. If the whole of polite society wasn’t watching, Ricky would’ve definitely punched him by now. You resist the urge to make an unladylike snort as Gyuvin extends his unnervingly large hand towards you. 

“May I have this dance, Miss Shen?”

“You may.”

You let Gyuvin lead you across the floor. For all of his awkward deportment, you know he has proven time and time again that he is an excellent dancer.

“Is there any lucky gentleman that you have your eye on tonight, Miss Shen?” He asks as you make smooth circles around the room.

“Not particularly, Mr. Kim.” You spin once, the light fabric of your skirt almost floating. “And you? Is there any lucky lady that has caught your attention?”

If Gyuvin had not been a childhood playmate and old friend, then perhaps you would not be so improper. But alas, you’ve known each other from the moment you could toddle. He graces you with a secretive smile.

“Perhaps, we shall see.”

The dance comes to an end a moment later and you give each other a courtesy bow. Gyuvin means to escort you back to your brother but some nosey mother pulls him away, likely to try and introduce her daughter to him. Thus, you are left alone, searching for your brother’s blond head. Unfortunately for you, it seems that your lonesome state has caught the attention of some gentlemen on the hunt.

“Miss Shen, what a pleasure.” A particularly bold one comes up to you. You greet him in kind, although you are well aware that his eyes have fixated themselves on your chest, ogling the low cut of your dress. Still, you must make conversation although you curse the rules of propriety in your head.

“My mother has taken ill this evening unfortunately.” You say trying your best to angle yourself away from his uncomfortable stare and excuse yourself. “So it is my brother who is escorting me this evening. I need to get back to him actually.” 

“Oh well he seems to have stepped out, might I keep you company in his stead?”

You’re about to outrightly tell him to leave you be when a familiar voice speaks up first.

“My apologies but I will be accompanying Miss Shen in the meantime.”

Both you and the man turn. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face when you see your soon-to-be betrothed.

“Mr. Lee, I didn’t know you were joining us tonight.”

“I’m glad that Miss Shen is delighted to see me.” You move forward and take the arm he offers as he turns to the other man who has quite a sour look on his face. “Excuse me, good sir.”

Both of you watch as he leaves with a huff. The ladies and their mamas whisper but you pay them no mind. Soon they would all know anyway. 

Lee Jeonghyeon has been courting you since the season started. He was 2 years your senior, good friends with Ricky and from a family that your parents approved of. Everything had been very private up until now as both your families finally began to talk about a public engagement and an even more public wedding. It was to be expected with both of you coming from aristocracy.

“May you do me a favour of having your next dance, Miss Shen?” He asks you as the quartet hints at the beginning of a waltz.

“You always have my favour, Mr. Lee.” 

You’re already facing him, one of his large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you towards him, perhaps a bit closer than the dance called for but with enough space between you to keep it appropriate for the many discerning eyes on you. His other hand holds yours, almost hiding it completely in his grasp. And he looks nowhere but at your face and you would almost feel shy as if his eyes hadn’t traced over your features so many times before. Still, you can’t help but blush at how brazen he is in such a public space.

“In the upcoming events this season,” he murmurs quietly, almost intimate in such a crowded room. “I hope that you could give me the privilege of having your first dance.”

He can have all of them, you would have told him plainly but you need not scandalise the ladies even more. So instead, you say.

“Then that privilege is yours.” The way he looks at you definitely holds almost too much passion for others to look upon.

Later, when you’ve found your brother and Gyuvin again, sharing a drink by the refreshments table, he asks another favour that makes you go completely and unattractively red.

“I heard that the garden is lovely at night, would Miss Shen like to accompany me for a walk outside?”

It’s a bold request. And you’re glad he spoke quietly enough that only your brother and Gyuvin are within earshot. Nevermind that the latter very nearly chokes on his drink. It’s surprising that he’s this shocked considering both of them had the misfortune of walking in on you in the back parlour doing things that were at the height of impropriety (you were just kissing…rather passionately).

Still, you’re suddenly glad your mother is not here but perhaps that is exactly the reason why Jeonghyeon asked. Ricky exchanges glances with you before he speaks.

“If my sister desires it.”

You weigh out the consequences before producing a beatific smile.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, perhaps some air would do us all some good.”

So as the crowd falls into another dance, you slip out, your brother and Gyuvin trailing behind you as a semblance of a chaperone. The garden is indeed beautiful at night. Even better, the foliage is grown enough for both of you to slip behind it, creating a little corner of your own. Meanwhile, your supposed chaperones linger a respectable distance, conversing quietly and letting you have your privacy. Finally, Jeonghyeon’s hands slide to your waist, holding you as closer than earlier. You allow yourself a little impropriety, pouting at him, just a bit.

“You should have informed that you would be attending, Mr. Lee.”

“If it pleases my Lady, I shall give her prior notice on the next occasion.”

Boldly, you stand on your toes and give him the lightest peck, your lips barely brushing his. This time, he flushes, ducking his head like a bashful schoolboy.

“It would please me very much.” You beam up at him. He leans down and catches you in a longer kiss, leaving you breathless as you shove at him gently. “We shouldn’t be so hasty here with so many around.”

“Very well,” he says, looking at you so intimately as if you were the only star in the vast dark sky. “Grant me one last favour this evening then, Miss Shen.”

“And what is it that you desire, Mr. Lee?” His face is still so close to yours that you feel faint.

“My name,” he whispers. “If you could call me by my name this evening, just once, I would be most happy.”

You can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat. It feels almost illicit to utter something that you’ve only ever addressed him in writing, have murmured in the most quiet of moments. Here, in the garden, where your willingly oblivious chaperones chat among themselves, with the crowd but a doorway apart, with the stars hanging above you to witness. Still you grant him his favour.

“Jeonghyeon.”

It is but an almost silent breath. Yet the way his eyes slowly shut, as if relishing in the moment, makes it feel like so much more. And oh, your heart flutters as he looks at you again, breathes your name into the air between you because it is for you and you alone.

His hands grasp yours gently and everything fades into the background. It’s only him.

“My darling.”

And you let him kiss you again.

[scribbling-dragon]

for the fic requests: i’ve personally been kind of craving a grian & jimmy siblings fic that isn’t all like the “wholesome” or overprotectiveness that i see a lot in the tag, sibling relationships can be pretty nasty but still have that underlying affection or familarity to each other because of shared life experiences etc,, i think a dynamic like that (especially in any of the life series with the added stress of being in a death game, you can choose whatever setting tho because i think those two are just Inherently Fucked Up) would be cool to read about if you’re up for it

are you really siblings if you don't try and kill each other on the regular?

summary:

“Nah, most he’d do is scam you out everything valuable you own.”

“And leave me for dead.” He finishes.

“Well, I never said anything about you not dying to something stupid, just that Scar wouldn't kill you.”

“Wow,” he mutters, “what care and concern from my dearest older brother, truly, I have never felt more loved in my life.”

(ao3 link)

(2,080 words)

(reblogs are also appreciated <3)

The sand shifts beneath his feet as he steps onto it. The grains immediately worm their way into his shoes, through some strange impossibility that should mean that sand shouldn’t currently be in his shoes. There’s no way for sand to be in his shoes, yet he can find the grains itching at his feet almost immediately- within seconds of stepping foot onto the first patch of sand.

He grumbles under his breath, stepping further and further into the desert, squinting his eyes against the offensive sun that does its best to blind him the moment he looks up. The sand continues to sink around his feet, grains worming their way into his shoes and sticking to his feet.

It’s Grian’s stupid fault for choosing to live in such a hostile environment- seriously, there were so many better places for him to pick to live in and yet he chooses a desert? The man’s supposed to be smart, or something, and yet he chooses the biome that is potentially the most hostile to beings living in it (other than, maybe, an ocean. Choosing to live in the middle of the ocean is also a pretty stupid idea, but he’s also pretty sure Grian’s done that too). Maybe the man isn't so deserving of the clever title everyone gives him; maybe he’s just an idiot.

He glances up again, taking his chances with being blinded by the sun to see how much further he has to go. Monopoly Mountain still looms on the horizon, a seemingly insurmountable distance away. It feels as though he’s hardly made any progress with his journey across the desert, and the constantly shifting sand beneath his feet does nothing but add to the nightmarish trek.

He begins to curse Grian out beneath his breath.

“Now that’s just plain hurtful.” He startles, twisting to face the new arrival.

Grian’s perching on a nearby cactus, hand lightly resting on the top of it for balance. His talons curl around one of the arms of the cacti. It doesn't look at all comfortable, and Jimmy hopes he’s picking cacti spines out of his feet for the next week.

“You chose to live in a stupid place.” He complains. “Seriously? What’s wrong with a- a nice forest? Somewhere that’s not this hot or difficult to walk through!” He kicks at some of the sand, which only succeeds in shifting it slightly and adding to the slowly growing desert in the base of his boots.

“It’s for exactly that reason we chose to live here, Tim.” Grian cocks his head to the side. “Don't exactly want everyone wandering on past our base, especially not with so many red lives running around.”

“Hardly anyone’s going to be running past your base with Scar there.” He scoffs. He’s almost tempted to kick at the sand again, but that’d do nothing but make him more annoyed at the existence of a desert. He pledges to himself, then, that he shall never set foot in another desert unless it is with the sole purpose of eradicating every grain of sand from within it. Can't be a desert without any sand, can it?

“Or me.” Grian grins. “More than a few people are wary about me after that enchanting table trap.”

“You give yourself far too much credit.” He laughs. “I was the one that set that trap off- it didn't even work. Everyone overestimates how far you plan ahead.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds. This desert really is far too hot, he can feel the grains of sand beginning to collect between his feathers. Something which is going to be a pain to get out once he’s returned home and is safely away from this hellspawn of a biome. “You don't plan ahead at all.”

“Don't I?” Grian tries to sound surprised, raising his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. It’s done with the sole intent of irritating him. And it works. Irritatingly. Grian just knows how to get under his skin, managing the feat with nothing more than a few expressions and carefully spoken words.

“No,” he can feel his feathers begin to fluff up a little, “you don't. Have you even thought about how this is going to end? About how all of this is going to end? Because I know you haven't, you never think that far ahead, never beyond the next trap or prank you're planning on pulling, hm? What happens when your contract with Scar runs out? What happens if he’s the one to kill you? What happens if you're the one to kill him?”

“It won't come to that.” Grian frowns at him, wings twitching. The hints at his annoyance are subtle. Everything about him is subtle, subtle up until the point where it is not, and you're left wondering where all of the sudden annoyance came from. “It won't.”

“But it might.” He shrugs. “What happens if you and Scar beat each other to death, hm?”

“The same thing that will happen if you and Scott beat each other to death, Tim,” Grian looks at him. “You die, and you move on. Game over, you go home.”

“And everyone else forgets this even happened in the first place.” He says, shoulders sagging. “Everyone goes home, none the wiser. As though they never disappeared in the first place, because it’s so easy for you to do that.”

“You make it sound like I enjoy that.”

Jimmy sighs. “I know you don't. But you don't think about these things. How are you meant to stop yourself from getting hurt if you don't think about it?”

“Isn't that what you're here for?” Grian asks. He hops down from the cacti, stretching his wings out as he lands. The wingspan is far larger than he normally has, tawny brown feathers so different from the usual bright reds and yellows of his wings.

His own are the same as they've always been. Unchanging. The bright yellow remains unaffected by whatever magic forces Grian to adapt- he’s not sure what he’d prefer; the unchanging warning of his own wings, or being forced to adapt with each different server, changing as he moves between them. 

“And here I thought you actually appreciated my company.”

“Of course not,” Grian scoffs. “Now, what was it you needed? Unless you just felt like complaining at me.”

“Uh,” why was he in the desert in the first place? He hadn't done anything remarkable that day, certainly nothing that he would have decided to trudge out here to inform their allies of- “Oh! Scott wants more sand, says our supplies are running low.”

“And he sent you to do it for him?”

“He’s doing enchants,” he says. “You know I can't do those very well.”

“Oh I am aware.” Grian laughs. “Your attempts are still as messy as when you were ten, I take it?”

He grumbles in response, which only prompts Grian to laugh more even though it isn't really that funny.

“Sand?” He prompts, when he realises Grian’s just going to keep laughing at him. At this rate, he’s going to pass out from a lack of oxygen, or the heat getting to him, before Jimmy can even secure the goods and been on his merry way back to his distinctly not sand-filled home.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon,” Grian beckons him to follow, and he does, falling into step behind him. Grian moves with ease across the landscape, somehow managing not to sink into the sand as deeply as he does. Maybe it’s something to do with not wearing boots, though he’s certainly not about to risk burning his feet to test it- he’d rather Grian doesn't laugh at him anymore. “I don't see why you couldn't just dig up some of the edges, why come all this way to find me?”

“I'm not about to die because Scar found me digging up part of the desert.”

“He wouldn't kill you for it,” Grian sighs.

“Uh, yes he would. Have you met the man?”

“Nah, most he’d do is scam you out everything valuable you own.”

“And leave me for dead.” He finishes.

“Well, I never said anything about you not dying to something stupid, just that Scar wouldn't kill you.”

“Wow,” he mutters, “what care and concern from my dearest older brother, truly, I have never felt more loved in my life.”

“Oh, knock it off,” Grian nudges him far harder than necessary, pushing him into a small pile of sand that flies up as he kicks it, getting in his eyes and his mouth. He spits the sand out, feeling the grains catch in his teeth as he grimaces.

He stumbles after Grian, just to shove him back, watching him stumble slightly, teetering a little to the side. Grian shoves him back, as though Jimmy’s own shove wasn't revenge already.

He jabs an elbow into Grian’s ribs in return, digging into the spot he knows is especially sensitive after Grian cracked three ribs while attempting to fly for the first time. Grian shouts, loud and wordless, which is all the warning he gets before Grian leaps at him, shoving him down into the sand.

“Grian!” He cries. He can feel sand nestling amongst his hair, digging into his feathers. “Hey, hey!” He shoves at Grian, attempting to dislodge the avian. It doesn't work, and they simply end up rolling around.

Grian kicks at him, talons scratching down his trousers, no doubt ripping his jeans- something he’s going to have to explain to Scott later, no doubt. He kicks right back, shoving at Grian’s face as he goes to bite him, shoving him away until he’s at a safe enough distance that he won't - literally - go for the jugular.

Grian licks his hand.

He pulls it back with a shout of disgust, kicking at Grian hard enough to dislodge him, scrambling to his feet before Grian can lunge at him.

“What was that for!” He yells, hopping back a step when Grian still looks tempted to lunge for him.

“You jabbed me!” Grian yells back, gesturing wildly with his arms. His wings flap too, stirring up the sand and stinging at his eyes.

“And you tried to bite me!” He doesn't shriek- he doesn't. Grian is a known liar, so even if he does go around snitching on him, not that he shrieked in the first place, no one’s going to believe him. “How many times have I told you not to go for the throat!”

“How many times have I told you not to elbow me!” Grian shrieks back at him. “I wouldn't have to bite you if you didn't elbow me!”

“You shoved me first.” He crosses his arms. His wings twitch behind him, feathers ruffling as he tries to dislodge as much of the sand as he can.

“And? It’s my desert.”

“It’s not your desert.”

“Uh, yeah it is?” Grian tips his head to the side. “I live in it. It’s my desert.”

“Whatever,” he throws his hands up, turning around. “I give up! Keep your stupid sand!”

“What are you gonna tell Scott?” Grian yells after him. He ignores him, stalking across the sand, gritting his teeth every time it slips beneath his feet.

When he does arrive back at their base, Scott is still enchanting, nose deep in one of the books and glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose as he leans forward to read it, quill and ink set aside for the moment.

He looks up as Jimmy enters, eyes widening in surprise at the state of him.

“What happened to you? You look like you had a fight with a bucket of sand and lost.”

“Grian.”

“Ah,” Scott nods his head along sagely. “That certainly explains why you've come back dripping sand, yet seemingly lacking in it.”

“It just wasn't working out,” he waves Scott off. “I'm going for a lie down.”

“Alright,” he nods, watching his husband go. One of his trouser legs was torn, as though it had been ripped to shreds by a wild animal, or a particularly vicious bush. He has a feeling it was neither of those, though. He supposes he must give Grian credit where credit’s due, though he’s not sure what the man gets out of beating his brother up.

It simply makes him all the more glad to be a single child; he can't imagine the hassle of having a brother that seems hellbent on killing you at every turn.

[claralouvette]

💖𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊🌺

Hawks/ Keigo Takami x F!Reader

Barely Proof read....0%

Synopsis💞

Having less and less time for yourself you’ve come across your 10 year journal, what happens if a certain bird read it without your permission.

⚠️WARNING: Bonus content contains 18+ content.

Tag list: @mysideeffectsofyou

Masterlist

🌺Having less and less time for yourself you’ve come across your 10 year journal, you made a rule for yourself to never write something negative on the journal, despite your known rule your last entry was about how you felt so sad about being so lonely in life. You wanted to change that.

🌺You Brought the journal along with you to kind of update it and maybe add some new stuff too. Thankfully, Hawks is on patrol so you don't need to care for any paper works... For awhile at-least.

🌺When Hawks returned you are now bounded to a mountain of paper work that needed to be done. Hawks being a caring person(or maybe because he is secretly interested in you), he insisted on letting you go home early and so you obliged. Packing your things you said good bye to your boss, leaving the table as is. For Hawks to continue the paper works for you,

🌺Hanks all alone in the room, He lazily walks towards your table to continue working on the remaining paper. until he noticed a notebook, a notebook adored with various vintage elements. Obviously, this notebook doesn't belong anywhere at his agency, so the straight forward answer would be that you accidentally left your notebook.

🌺With the notebook taking more of his attention span than this few unfinished paper works. He hastily opened the mysterious notebook on his hands.

🌺When he reads it for the first time reading about some of the things you appreciate in life. 

“Who knew a quiet person like you, would be into so many stuff” 

🌺He knows that he shouldn’t be reading this, these are your private thoughts. Much his self debate having your journal on his hands is almost like a Pandora's box. Well all of that said, how could a man like him who is interested on you, could control himself

"This is life now he whispered "this is life now" he said the second time much louder than before

"Fuck it" and reopens your journal.

He learned how you struggle about being quirkless, but you didn't let that bother you and move on. 

He learns about your ex and how he demands you to come back to him and how you want to avoid him. 

He learns about your failed attempts of dating, etc.

🌺He learns about what you thought of him. Well Not really, "Wait, that's it?"

He was honestly so disappointed, how could he, when there is only a mere 3 sentences, 3 SENTENCES dedicated for him! It wasn't even your admiration For him it's just how he is a much better boss than your previous one.

🌺Lastly, he learns about how you feel about yourself

‘June 02 20XX

It's been awhile since I wrote, I guess I'm sorry, I had no reason to write, nothing interesting has happened. I'm writing just to let out what I've been feeling. I feel lonely, why do I feel like I don't have friends most of the times, I mean I have Friends at least I think I do.

I don't know what's wrong with me, I tried dating but none of it seems to work, is there something wrong with me? is it my attitude perhaps, a karma? I don't know. I should stop writing, like goes on, I should just try and enjoy it while I still can.’

you were alway a quiet person so hawks just assumed that your just shy, but opening your journal led him to discover new things about you and for some reason he wanted be a part of your life, so that for a change you wont be alone anymore, you could stick images of you and him hanging out on your journal, let you meet the UA high students to let you befriend them. Just imagining about it made him giggle making his heart heart Flutter. Flipping on to a next page it reads. 

“My Ideal partner”

🌺His forbidden reading session was disrupted when he suddenly hears footsteps just outside the office knowing who it was. He instinctively closed the book, put it where he found it and act like nothing happened.

🌺there was a knock and the door revealed you. Of course you have come back when you realized that your journal was not with you. When you entered, your heart dropped From the sight of him on your table, trying to act cool, you nervously explained that you forgot something on your table. he stood up from your seat to let you do your business. you noticed that he was almost done with the papers. You found your notebook and said thank you to Hawks.

🌺Before leaving the scene Hawks called you out "Do you have anything planned out tomorrow?"

"No, well maybe paper works, why?"

He explained that the there is an event at the UA High it's basically just another training for the students and he was invited to train the students on their agility. "It would be nice to have you there,"he said, you simply agreed it would be a nice change of pace For a day. 

Meanwhile Keigo’s inside thoughts were filled with "I need to know her Ideal partner!!!"

🌺the next day, you were just seating in one of the bleachers watching the students use there quirk against Hawks. Some succeeded some didn't. You were just taking pictures of the moment. Until Keigo called you to come over, he introduced you to the students and left to grab some lunch take out for the whole class.

🌺The day ended, you were tired, but not complaining you were able to make friends to some students, giving mind one of your social media contacts. some new pictures to put on your journal.

🌺You were waiting for the bus for you to return or your residence until you heard keigo making a landing behind you then asked you a question

“are you available again same time next week?"

🌺You don’t know what happened to the guy, your boss, who is now weirdly your friend now, it wasn’t like this before. It was always him in you in the office, he gives you a job, you do your job, you done the job and give it to him in such a cold and intense interaction. Among to all of your boss you’ve come across, never in your life you were able to be friend one. You always want to keep it professional, but that seems to be out of the window now that your friends, WHO KEEPS PESTERING YOU TO COME WITH HIM EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO GO WITH HIM. 

“C’monnnn, you should come with me, we could have a roof top site seeing together after it, oh and you could take pictures to you seem to like taking picture of a lot of things” 

“Hawks-“ “It’s Keigo” Oh did I mention that he want to have a first name basis with you.

Saying his name more sternly “Hawks, You are going on a meeting, have you forgotten that your meeting is solely for you and the other heroes? Besides who would do the papers after your patrol” 

He sighs defeated.

🌺Eventually, you would allow him to bring you into some-places, you had no choice he’s been annoying you about it, its better than being locked up in the office. And when its your day off sometimes you would be invited to a mall shopping with the girls, then Keigo would come flying in, trying to force himself into the group, the girls wont stop teasing you about it.

“You should give him a chance, I think he like you” Ochaco said

“What do you mean he likes me, I’m his assistant, do you know how messed up that is, not mention I’m kind of avoiding the love department for awhile” making up excuses to exit this type of conversation.

“Hmm I don’t know, he always wants to hang out with you, not to mention how he looks at you, and give us free KFC when were with you, but boss and assistant dynamic are quite popular these days, ” Mina said, causing the group to giggle and you couldn’t help but giggle too.

“Hello there girls, what have you been giggling about” and the infamous hawk has entered the scene with bouquet of flowers on his hands offering to you. “Here, you deserve some flowers for you birthday”

The whole group just basically said “Ooooooo” 

“So mind if join you girls?”

🌺Before you even noticed you been frequently smiling more. 

“Hey there, baby bird wat’cha smiling about” Keigo asked, You’ve been re-reading your old journals, and they were quite a lot. You can’t stop smiling about the memories you’ve created for years.

“Nothing its just my journal, I was looking back at my old memories and just looking how far I’ve come, I couldn’t help but feel happy about it” You said showing him your journal, it seemed his face brightened up when you showed him the now worned out notebook.

“You can read it, if you want, I don’t mind” you said, 

“I can?” He said confusingly

“Of course why would a keep something from my newly wed husband” when you said that he was all happy about it, he was so cute, you just cant help but cuddle against him while reading your journals.

Time passed you fell asleep, he didn’t mind you both got used feeling each other heat. He continued reading and was able to see what have become of the journal he opened all those years ago. And this time he is not disappointed because he became part of your life, he loves you and you love him back, nothing is ever going to replace that. You’re his world, and he is your home. 

💖 Bonus: 

“Morning baby bird *chu*”

“Hi sweet keigo,” 

“I have a question babe”

“Mmm, what is it” you said groggily

“Have I been your ideal partner this whole time?” He said SO seductively teasing you with that huge smirk on his face. 

“Keigo, you tease me again, I will not let you cuddle me” 

💖Bonus X2:

"i have a confession" said keigo

"what is it" you said, more focused on the document than him

"remember that one time you left your journal, on the office? on our old office?"

"yeah?, what about it"

"well, I was so into you, and i wanna know more about you, i know its bad, but I couldn't help myself, so a read it"

"oh your in a big trouble" you said

You punished him by edging him the whole night in bed ending up spilling his seed inside of you.

Masterlist

[channieandhisgoonsquad]

“Maybe I could offer up an idea?”

You really needed a good house plant. That was todays primary mission. Something that was fun, easy to take care of, and hopefully big enough to add some life to your new apartment in a new city in a new country. Did you mention you were new here?

Yes. Very new. As soon as you were offered to relocate to Seoul your voice said “Yes!” Without even a second thought. Your superiors told you you could think about it, but you were ready for a change; the new hair just wasn’t cutting it.

You weren’t close to anyone besides your family so it made it easy. The move was mostly clothes, as you planned to refurnish completely within the new location.

But now, you were left with three weeks before they wanted you to start working at the new office building, and you wanted to decorate.

You made sure the missions were simple every day. Bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, living room, and then decor. But today, you just wanted a few damn plants or even just one to add life to the place.

You were staring at some giant potted trees, of which you could barely read the tag, when a man stopped to ask if you were okay, he spoke English which was surprising, but probably started with that since you did not look Korean. You assumed it was a worker and state, “no I’m okay, just trying to make a decision.”

“Maybe I could offer up an idea?” He was persistent.

You looked over to ask him to buzz off, politely, when you were met with a gorgeous blonde haired man pushing around a cart full of plants and a carefree outfit that screamed ‘customer’. “Oh sorry, I thought you worked here. Why do you have so many plants?”

“Decorating my dorm. It’s so boring. My friend suggested plants to give me something to take care of instead of my own animal. You??”

He was talkative and over explaining, but you enjoyed the easy conversation. “Same. I mean, new apartment. Boring. Need something to focus on besides work.”

He made a cheesy grin at your repetitive response; it was so gorgeous you were caught off guard that a man that looked like him was just wandering the streets. “Grab a cart. I’ve got time to help.”

You didn’t respond, just nodded and reached for a small cart.

“Lots of natural light?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to water it all the time?”

“Nooo. Too much pressure.”

He laughs a hardy reply, “I know that feeling. What size?”

“All sizes.”

He starts carefully placing all variations of plants in your cart. He quirks a brow, “Budget?”

You should say your budget, but instead you are so fascinated at this random man taking this initiative that you shake your head ‘no’ so that he will continue.

Once you are both satisfied with your hauls you head to the check out. “How do you know what plants to get so well?”

“Oh, I don’t. I just got you the same plants as me because our living situations are the same. “ you stop in your tracks and he looks back to see the amused look on your face. You cackle are his blatantly obvious answer and just can’t help but smile harder than you had in months.

“My name’s y/n, by the way. Obviously new here if you can’t tell by my accent.”

He was smitten. You were a gorgeous foreigner that was just trying to get by, but you took everything in stride and handled him with grace. You even belly-laughed at him even when he wasn’t joking. Lord, help him now.

“My name is Jisung. Im glad I could help you with something to get you comfortable here.”

You shouldn’t be so forward, but having met such a friendly person in such a big and busy city probably won’t happen very often. “Well, Han. I’m actually looking for some help with furnishing my apartment. If you aren’t busy, could I offer you food at a restaurant of your choice for your help maneuvering this huge city?”

He smiled at you, trying to contain his excitement at seeing your gorgeous smile again. This could be fun. “I would be delighted, y/n.”

@sweetracha @2chopsticks2eyes @lyramundana @moonlightndaydreams

[nightwardenminthara]

oc in 15

tagged by @foxboyclit, ty :3 this looks fun, i'm always trying to work on voice so this is relevant lol

Rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

sooo I kinda wanna do multiple ocs so I'm gonna do a few lines for multiple ocs!

Gideon Trevelyan

“Fine. I go to the Chantry on Tuesday evenings, but I’m free after. You can help me then.” He moves to leave but stops himself. “Don’t bring Jowan.”

“I’m not afraid!” He is, he’s terrified. It would be slightly more convincing if he wasn’t breathing like he’d just run a race. “I just- I want it gone. I want it gone. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to think, so many different… voices in my head saying opposite things.” “If I lived in a grand estate in Amaranthine, I’d at least have silk sheets.” Gideon grins, nudging him with a shoulder. “Oh and a thick Antivan carpet and fennec furs.” He adds dreamily. He looks back at Rodaine. “I bet I can picture your room clearly. Immaculate and barren and austere and full of books.”

Grant Hawke this one was hard, i haven't written enough of him interacting with friends lmao, i promise he is not a hardass all the time

“You shouldn’t have run up to them like that.” Hawke reprimands. “What were you bloody thinking? I could have handled it.” "I'm not losing any more money and I'm not losing the shirt off my back. What does that leave me?" “I have questions about your maps, Warden.”

Valztefein Rilynval

“Got you this warm room and all and you’re whining. Don’t I deserve some attention, Elkantar?” “This is what we’re calling a best man these days? Surely I’ve already bested him and I haven’t even drawn my blade?” “This is true. You are weak. Far weaker than any cleric of Lolth should be.” “It seems our dear fresh-faced fighter has lost his tongue.” He presses his heel further into his gut. “Louder.”

Cyril Lodovka

Cyril smiles, rising again to his full height. “I have prepared the entertainment tonight, my dear. I have something for you… a gift, of sorts. That is, if you wish to see it.” Cyril chuckles, smiling into his own glass. “You may send him into a conniption. Throw in some reference to bacchanal blood-drinking feasts and the fashionability of the Undead and even the chirurgeons will struggle to mend him.” "I will endeavor to compliment you less until you can properly receive my attentions," Cyril teases. “I can make something that may relieve it a little. Help you rest. Unless you’d prefer your method of suffering in silence?” “Apologies. I did not mean to condescend. It is simply… charming, and I am not one to speak, my instructors abhorred reading my assignments.”

i tag @transprincecaspian @sinquisition @ysali @idolsgf

[teecupangel]

After reading a couple of fanfics(i have lost track of what ive read XD) where Desmond uses the Eye to connect to Ezio in the library and send him back to his 17 year old self to save his family: I got the idea/prompt that when Ezio awakens back in the past he rushes to his family, ignoring a golden thread of Importance. It cant be more importsnt than his family, surely? Either way, Ezio ends up discovering he has like 1-2 day to save his family(im unsure of the timeline, but i imagine he lands before he gains his scar). So, he rushes to save them. Here i kinda get a bit lost, im not very good at planning, but i imagine he ends up killing Alberto and exposes him as a traitor to his father etc. Eventually, after a few days things finally calm down enough that Ezio can finally check out that object his Sight has tagged as Important without feeling guilty for leaving his family alone. He follows the thread to a orphanage and there he sees a 1-2 year old with a scar on his lips and brown eyes that flash a very familiar gold when the child sees Ezio. "Desmond?"

So basically, the Eye damaged Desmond too much, so when he went back in time with Ezio, he had to be recreated. You could give him the charcoal black arm with golden lines or even his tattoo(could be interesting seeing peoples reaction to a child having what is percieved as a criminal brand?). Heck, maybe even give golden fluffy wings that he can hide? Idk, i mostly just want/need fatherly!Ezio bonding with baby!Desmond and this idea has rapidly gone out of control in my head. XD

but yeah, basically Ezio decides that Desmond has given him such a gift with allowing him to save his family, that now Ezio will take care him(he also feels pretty guilty ignoring the Important glow for so long).  He just needs to figure how to get his family accept what is looking like to be his motherless bastard, hopefully withoit too many questions. I also imagine Ezio gets the iconic scar this time from a fight with Vieri when he throws insults at Desmond for being "lesser": being a bastard and an Auditore in one package.

So, whats your thoughts on this? Anything you think is missing or want to add to?

Transferring him right as he gained his scar (like the rock hitting him was the trigger) would also serve as some kind of symbolism of his connection with Desmond, not just due to the similar scars but also because that is the first memory Desmond relived as Ezio (as long as we don’t count his birth). That would also give him 3 days max since the scar incident was on December 26, the guards tried to arrest the Auditores on December 28 and the execution would be on December 29.

Also, if you want to really hammer in Ezio feeling guilty about leaving Desmond for so long, a plot point could be that Ezio assassinates Uberto Alberti and he was able to prove to Giovanni that Uberto was a Templar BUT not that he was planning anything against the Medici or the Auditore. Perhaps, a simple Templar ring was all Ezio could give to Giovanni and telling him he was planning it with another man that Ezio hints to be Rodrigo Borgia without flatout saying it’s Rodrigo Borgia since he, as his teenage self, shouldn’t even know who the Borgias are at this point in time. This becomes a scandal all by itself and not even Lorenzo could protect the Auditores, telling them to leave Firenze as quickly as they could. Stand down and keep a low profile for now.

This leads to the Auditores leaving Firenze quickly and asking for sanctuary in Monteriggioni. Ezio would stay there to make sure everyone is safe and also to be ‘trained’ as an Assassin because Giovanni believes he could no longer wait until Ezio is as old as Federico to tell him the truth because of what Ezio has done.

Ezio also has to stay to show Giovanni that he wasn’t some rabid dog that would bite anyone.

This can range from months to even 2 years (technically 1-ish year since Ezio returns to the past in December) which is the same time frame Ezio had to train with Mario and his mercenaries in the previous timeline.

Either way, Ezio finally gets a chance to check on the important gold once he’s been deemed ‘good enough’ to go to Firenze while Federico goes to Roma with Giovanni as part of his training and maybe even ‘final test’.

And then he finds Desmond as a 2-year-old child who isn’t liked by the other kids because he was ‘creepy’ and they say he’s the devil’s child. Maybe Ezio didn’t recognize him immediately but their eyes met and Desmond’s eyes flashed gold and Ezio’s first instinct is that he does know him. He doesn’t remember when but he does know this child.

The one in charge of the orphanage finds him looking at Desmond and he tells him about how Desmond was heard crying somewhere Ezio knows all too well.

It was the same place Ezio had died on, the very same bench…

Someone gave him to the orphanage and they have nothing of him, he had been left naked in the cold that they feared he would have died had he stayed there any longer.

Then to hammer in the guilt, the reason why the children believe Desmond is the devil’s child is because of the charcoal black arm he had that no doctors could explain other than ‘he had been burned’ and Desmond had cried each time they tried to ‘examine’ it with their tools.

So Ezio takes him in, not knowing what else to do.

Then, it’s only the next day after he dreams of the only time he saw Desmond in Altaïr’s library that he puts two and two together and realized that the child was most definitely Desmond. He had to be.

And now, Ezio believes that Desmond is the reason why he had a redo and that he had failed Desmond for letting him be alone for so long.

He wouldn’t even think that people would think Desmond is his son until he hears it from one of the courtesans and he’d be like “Oh! That’s a good idea! I’ll just say he’s my son so people would stop asking questioning about who he is!”

And that was a mistake because now everyone believes he has a child out of wedlock. Perhaps Cristina would even think he had cheated on her considering Desmond’s age and now he has to suffer through his family’s questioning and lectures about having a child out of wedlock.

Then Desmond’s back starts getting itchy and later on it starts growing a pair of lumps…

That breaks his skin painfully, revealing puffs of feathers red with his blood but, after cleaning him (and trying to get him to stop crying because “Owie, papa! Owie!”)…

Ezio sees the feathers were white…

With lines of gold that he has become familiar with in his previous life.

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Stackson Week Day 2

The Bleeding Hearts Club

Rating: mature

Other tags: trans lydia, Derek Hale/ Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey/Scott Mccall/Allson Argent , Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Minor Character Death

triggers: fighting, drug use

Please let me know if I need to add any more tags.

Archive of Our Own

Chapter 2: Fists to kisses

Stiles sat up on the counter, facing Chris as he cooked. “It’s been entirely too long. Thanks for inviting me.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to have you. We’ve really missed you around here.” He grinned, slapping his leg. “What have I told you about sitting on my counter?” 

Stiles chuckled, lightly kicking him. “You love me up here. Don’t act like you don’t”

“You shouldn’t be in here with me, Stiles. You should be out there hanging with your friends.” Chris sighed, crossing his arms. “Why are you avoiding the party?” He turned to the stove and began checking the pots. “Everyone is going to be leaving in a few months, and you don’t want to waste this time with them.”

Stiles groaned, pulling his legs up onto the counter. “Come on, Mr. Argent. I’m not sure that they really want to see me.” He pulled out a cigarette, looking around the room. “I know that is why I came, but… I am not sure.” 

Chris sighed and lit the cigarette for him. “Your friends miss you, Stiles. That is why we invited you.” 

“It’s so hard.” He frowned, laying back on the counter. He growled as Chris hit his hip. “Noah did not raise you to give up because shit was hard. Do not let your friends go because it was hard.” He leaned against the counter and smiled. “Get your ass out there and try.” 

“Fine.” Stiles cursed and hopped down. He kissed Chris’s cheek and walked into the living room. The others were sitting around the television trying to figure out what movie they were going to watch. “Wow. This is so riveting.” 

Isaac looked up at him and sighed. “We really can’t agree on what to watch.” He smiled at Stiles. “It’s like this every time we get together, and usually Chris just gets fed up and puts in some John Wayne movie. Save us.” 

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “We are going to watch Suicide Squad.” He raised a brow at everyone. “Any objections?” He reached out and pulled the dvd off the shelf. 

Levi sighed, rolling his eyes. “That’s fine with me.” The bell rang and he jumped up. “Oh, I’ll get that. It’s probably Jackson.” 

Stiles groaned. “You invited Jackson?” He sighed as he started getting the movie set up. 

Levi smiled. “Yes. He has to get out of that school.” He walked over to the door and let the man in. “Hey, Jackson. Welcome.” 

“Hello. Um…” He looked around the room blushing. There were so many people. “Hey, Stiles… Mr. Hale.” 

Peter grinned, waving at him. “Come in, take a seat. We are just putting on a movie while Chris finishes dinner.” 

Stiles grumbled and waved at him. “Whittemoore.” He sighed and sat between Allison and Peter. Isaac sat at his feet and he grinned, running his fingers through the other boy’s hair. 

Jackson smiled. “I brought a bottle of sparkling grape juice. I know Levi said to just bring myself, but father always said it is appropriate to bring a gift.” 

Allison smiled as she got up to take the bottle from him. “Thank you. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll take this into the kitchen.” she glared at Stiles. “Be nice.” 

Stiles gasped, faking insult. “Who do you think I am?” 

Allison rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.” She smiled lovingly as Jackson sat beside Stiles. She seriously had never seen anything so awkward. There were six people on the couch and the two were trying to sit as far from each other as they could. “I’ll be right back. Pa, can you make sure that everyone behaves?” 

Peter chuckled. “I make no promises, Ally.” He looked around at all the teens around his living room and sighed. “Derek, why don’t you get us all something to drink? I think Chris has some wine chilled in the kitchen.” 

Derek raised a brow at him. “You know that some of us are still under 18?” 

“Yes, and none of us are going out. There should be no problem with a couple glasses of wine, to celebrate.” He grinned. “It’s the first time we’ve all been together in so long. Let loose a little.” 

Derek growled at him. “Bad things happen when we let loose.” 

Stiles frowned. “Derek, we…” 

“No… we don’t need to talk about it. I’ll get the wine.” Derek sighed as he stormed into the kitchen.

Jackson chewed his lip. “I think I’ll just have water. I mean someone needs to drive people home.” 

Stiles scoffed. “Always the straight laced goody two shoes.” He cursed as Scott kicked him. “What?” 

“Allison said to behave. Can’t you be nice for a moment?” Scott sighed and tossed some popcorn at him. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I don’t like him. I think I have made that perfectly clear.” He got up and walked back into the kitchen. He sighed as Jackson got up and followed him. “

“What is your problem with me?” Jackson sighed, leaning against the counter as Stiles pulled a bottle of tequila out of the cabinet. He grumbled as Chris took it from him and put it on the counter. 

“You just rub me the wrong way.” Stiles sighed as he grabbed a bottle of wine from Derek and poured himself a glass. “You are… god. You’re so judgmental, and the perfect rich kid.” 

Derek raised a brow. “Like we aren’t all rich kids, Stiles? We never based any of our friendships on money.” He smirked, sipping his wine. 

Stiles glared at them. Was everyone going to be on the Jackson train? “Well, he’s my tutor, not my friend. I did not think I had to see him outside of school, where he could judge me on my life choices?” 

“Who’s judging here, Stiles?” Jackson growled, throwing his hands up in the air. “I have been nothing but nice to you, and you are treating me like garbage.” He looked over at Chris. “I’m sorry sir, I do not mean to yell in your house.” 

Chris shrugged. “No, it’s alright. With so many teens in the house, it almost always devolves into a screaming match, at some point in the night.” He smiled at him. “Please just try to enjoy yourself.” He pulled a lasagna out of the oven. “Stiles! Stop being an asshole and call everyone into the kitchen for dinner.” 

Stiles cursed and downed the entire glass of wine. “Whatever.” He stuck his head out of the kitchen and yelled. “Dinner is ready!” 

Chris sighed, pinching his nose. “I could have done that Stiles.” He began putting the food at the table. “Derek. Pour everyone a glass of wine. Um, Jackson, would you grab the salad for me?” 

“Of course, sir.” Jackson glared at Stiles as he grabbed the salad and began taking it to the table.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes and put his foot out, tripping him. Jackson fell forward and the salad flew into the air going everywhere. Peter caught the bowl as he stepped into the kitchen. “Stiles, can we talk in my study for a moment?” He sighed, rolling the bowl in his hands, before handing it to his husband. 

Chris sighed, looking at the salad on the floor. “Dammit, Stiles.” He whispered. 

Peter kissed his cheek, before grabbing Stiles by his shirt collar. “There is extra in the fridge. It won’t be as fantastic as the one you made, but it’ll do in a pinch.” He growled as he dragged Stiles out of the room and up the stairs to his office. “Sit.” 

Stiles sighed, sitting in one of the chairs. “Sorry.” 

Peter shrugged. “No you’re not. I just wish you would not do stupid shit to ruin my husband’s dinner.” He pulled a pill bottle out of his desk and tossed it to Stiles. “Take a literal chill pill. Levi invited Jackson because he is his friend. We don’t really know the kid but we are willing to give him a chance?” 

Stiles swallowed one of the pills and sighed. “I do know him and he’s a complete nerd. You do not want him here.” 

Peter raised a brow at him. “You’ve known him for like a week, sweetheart.” He sat at his desk, putting his feet up. “If I were him, I would have punched your lights out back there.” 

Stiles laughed. “Like he would have gotten a punch in.” Stiles closed his eyes and leaned back. “What did you just give me?” He felt like he was already starting to float.

Peter smirked. “You really should learn to ask before taking the shit I gave you.” He watched him for a moment and sighed. “It’s just a bit of xanax. You will be fine. Are you ready to go back down to dinner?” 

Stiles sighed and nodded. “In a moment. Didn’t you promise me some cocaine?” He chuckled as he stood up. 

“Right you are.” Peter smirked as he pulled a baggy from his desk. “Don’t do it here. I think you’ve disrupted my husband’s dinner enough tonight.” He gave the drug to him and pulled him into a hug. “Let’s go. You owe me $100 for that.” 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll get it to you at class Monday.” Stiles sighed as they walked back to the kitchen. Everyone was already eating when they sat down. “Sorry, Jackson.” He chuckled. 

Jackson glared at him for a moment. “Whatever.” 

📚

Jackson walked to his car and threw his jacket into the back seat. He had never met someone so infuriating or had a more awkward evening. Stiles Stilinski was a complete asshole and he found himself wanting to beat the shit out of him. He looked over at the jeep where Stiles was doing something on the hood. He rolled his eyes and walked over to him. “Stiles, I just want to…” He stopped and glared at him. “Are you doing cocaine?” 

Stiles looked up at him and rolled his eyes. “What do you care?” He leaned against the hood and stared at the other man. “I’ve got a hot tip on a party and I plan on having a good time.” He smirked at Jackson. “You are such a square, Jackson. Or should I say Jackass?”

“I’m a square because I don’t do stupid shit, like take drugs?” Jackson glared at him. “You were an ass all through dinner, to me and to all your friends. You are going to get yourself hurt and end up with no friends if you keep acting like this.” He growled at him and sighed. 

Stiles guffawed. “What gives you the right to talk to me about my friends? Yeah, you’re friends with Levi, but you know nothing about the rest of us?” 

Jackson growled, throwing his hands in the air. “Levi told me all about Erica. Fuck.” He groaned as Stiles punched him in the eyes. “What the hell?” 

“You don’t get to talk about her. You have no idea what we’ve all gone through.” Stiles pushed him against the jeep. 

Jackson glared into his eyes. “That’s the thing. You aren’t dealing with it. You’re just going through life ignoring it, and hiding behind drugs.” He sighed and kicked his legs from under him, quickly pinning him to the ground. “You don’t think I’ve learned to defend myself? I’ve been in kickboxing for 12 years.” 

Stiles squirmed, Kicking at Jackson. “Let me the fuck up.” 

“Only if you calm down.” Jackson sighed, trying to keep his own temper in check. “You need to fucking stop acting like an asshole.” 

Stile let out a breath and tried to punch him again. “How the hell are you so fucking strong?”  

“I told you, I take kickboxing. Are you even listening?” Jackson groaned, as he pinned his arms to the ground. “Stop trying to hit me. I’m already going to have a black eye tomorrow.” 

Stiles growled, feeling like walls were closing in on him. “Just let me up.” He whimpered and shook his head. 

Jackson felt a hand on his shoulder as someone pulled him off Stiles. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” Peter sighed, tossing him toward his porsche. “I’m not sure what is going on here but I would hate to call the cops.” 

“Maybe he needs a night in jail. Not only did he assault me, but he was doing drugs in your driveway.” Jackson sighed, straightening his jacket. 

Peter shook his head. “No, I don’t want the trouble. Stiles is strung out and he has anxiety problems.” He looked at Stiles who was weeping, curled against the jeep’s tire. 

“You’re just going to let him do coke in your driveway and go home strung out?” Jackson yelled at the man. 

Peter shrugged. “Honestly, he’s done worse. I’ll make sure he gets home safe, Jackson. He’s going to feel terrible in the morning.” 

Jackson sighed, shaking his head. He stared at Stiles for a moment. He had no idea how he had gone from angry to this destroyed creature in front of him. “You know what? I don’t feel like dealing with his crap tonight. I’ll see him on Monday.” Jackson sighed and walked toward his car. He took one final look at Stiles before he got in the car and drove away. 

Peter sighed, kneeling in front of Stiles. “Come on kid, get your ass up. You couldn’t wait to get out of my driveway before doing that coke?” 

Stiles looked up at him, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Why is everyone on my case tonight?” 

Peter sighed, pushing his hair from his face. “Because you are being a royal pain in our asses. You know, I do not need the cops here wondering where you got that cocaine.” He stood and offered his hand to Stiles. “Let me drive you home and I’ll just walk back. You can pick your jeep up in the morning.” 

Stiles shook his head. “No, I can drive.” He took his hand and stood up. “I just need the time alone.” He gave himself a mental shake and climbed into the jeep. “Yeah, I need to just let some steam off.” 

Peter sighed. “Please, be careful. If you get hurt, I’m not giving you another drug.”

Stiles laughed. He dug into his glove department and threw $100 at Peter. “Don’t  start pretending like you really care.” 

Peter picked up money and shoved it into his pocket. “Stiles, I am the person who has never judged your downward spiral.” He sighed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go home and get some rest.” He wasn’t really sure what else to say. “We all love you and we don’t want you to get hurt. Well, except maybe Jackson, but that is on you.” 

“Way to ruin my fucking high.” Stiles grumbled as he started the jeep and pulled out of the driveway.

📚

Stiles barged into Levi’s room and growled at him. “You fucking told Jackson about Erica, didn’t you?” He sat on his bed and sighed. He could not believe one of his oldest friends had betrayed him like this.

Levi sighed, rolling his chair away from his desk. He guessed that he could study later. “I needed someone to talk to Stiles. Someone who was not involved in all the drama.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking into Stiles’s eyes. “Jackson had a nice little shiner today. Should I assume that came from you?” 

Stiles chuckled. “He has no right to know about that night and he had no right to say her name to me.” He shook his head as he got up to pace the room. “If you needed someone to talk to, you could have talked to Chris. He is always willing to listen.”

“So is Jackson. I don’t know what you have against the guy.” Levi groaned, spinning in his chair. “It used to be that if I had a problem, I would talk to you, but… Dammit you know, the last time I got to really talk to you was over a year ago. I thought we’d be able to talk to you yesterday, but you were a complete and utter asshole.” He gazed into his eyes and sighed. “The only one you don’t treat like an asshole is Isaac.” 

“Isaac has been through enough.” Stiles sighed. “You know I love you guys, but it’s too hard.” 

“Yeah, he really has, but you need to get over whatever hang up you have that is preventing you from talking to the rest of us.” Levi sighed, getting up to grip his shoulders. “I love you, and I don’t want to leave at the end of the summer with us still being so distant.” 

“Levi. You are missing this point here. You were talking to Jackson about me behind my back!” Stiles growled at him. “I do not want to talk about Erica!” 

“WELL YOU HAVE TO!” Levi shouted, gripping Stiles’s jacket. “You can’t bottle this up forever or you are going to end up dead.” Levi rested his forehead against Stiles’s. “I was hoping that last night would be a fresh start but you refuse to open up to us.”

Stiles pulled away from him, shaking his head. “Yeah, easy for you to say, but you are not the one who killed her.” 

“You did not kill her either, Stiles. It was an accident. The quicker you realize that, the quicker you can move on.” Levi cupped his face, frowning. “I don’t want to lose you. If I have to turn down Brown and stay here, I will.” 

Stiles shook his head, trying to stop the tears. “You can’t do that. You have been dreaming about going to America all our lives.” Stiles chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Can you just not talk to Jackson about me?” 

Levi shrugged. “I’ll keep you out of the conversation. You have every right to ask, but I need someone to talk to, Stiles. You won't talk to me, and I feel like I’ve lost my favorite brother.” 

“Well, I’m talking to you now.” Stiles cried as he fell back onto Levi’s bed. “How do you not hate me?” 

Levi sat beside him, running his fingers through Stiles’s hair. “Because, honestly, you haven’t done anything wrong. You have been dealing with so much crap this year, and you needed time. We are tired of giving you that time and want you to get the help you need. No more drugs, no more drinking, and no more fighting.” 

“I can’t agree to that, just yet. I’ll try, but if Jackson talks to me again… I can’t explain why I don’t like him.” He leaned his head against Levi’s leg, crying softly. “Maybe I should go.” 

“No, stay as long as you want. I’m just studying for tomorrow’s test. You can nap if you want.” Levi chuckled. “You look like rolled over crap.” 

“Oh, haha.” Stiles sighed. “I’m supposed to study with Jackson tomorrow before the test. I’m not going to go.” 

“No, you should go study with him. You need to pass that test. Take a nap and then I’ll help you study when you get up.” Levi smiled at him. “Hey, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Stiles sighed, closing his eyes. 

📚

Stiles sat in front of Jackson and placed his notes on the table. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He rolled his eyes and opened his book. “I should not have been acting like an asshole. You honestly did not do anything wrong.” 

Jackson looked up at him and raised a brow at him. “Wow, that actually sounded like a genuine apology.” He placed his pen on the table and let out a breath. “You’re forgiven. Now, what can I do for you?” 

Stiles frowned, glaring at him for a moment. “I studied with Levi yesterday, but there are a few minor points I want to go over before the test this afternoon. Would you please be willing to look over them with me?” 

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Since you asked so nicely. Why not?” He sat up and pushed his glasses up on his nose as he pulled up the notes on his laptop. “So these are the main subjects she will be touching on. She is allowing you to have one sheet of notes, and I suggest that you have the formulas written out. I can help you type up a cheat sheet and print it out, so that you can use that during your test.” 

Stiles gaped at him and nodded. “That actually does sound helpful. Why couldn’t you bloody tell me that Friday?” He chewed his lip as he looked through the notes. “Maybe I can put the points that I am not as sure about into the cheat sheet?”

Jackson smiled at him. “Well, to be honest, you were not really willing to listen, Friday. You were insistent that I just give you the answers.” He began typing and looked over the other boy’s notes. “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you show me what you’re not sure about and I can try to clarify it with you as I type this up?” 

Stiles nodded and smiled at him. “Thank you. Again, I’m sorry. Levi may have pointed out that I was being unreasonable.” He sighed and pointed at a formula. ��What the hell does this mean?” 

Jackson laughed. “That’s actually fairly tricky. Let me show you a little work around.” 

Stiles nodded watching him solve the problem. 

📚

Stiles sighed, walking out of his class. The test was a lot easier than he had thought it would be and he was just glad it was over. He was walking toward his jeep when Jackson pulled up next to him on an electric scooter. “Um, hello?” 

Jackson grinned, chewing his lip. “Hello. So, how was it?” He leaned on the scooter looking around them. There was still another hour until the last class let out and the parking lot was completely clear. “You don’t have a class, now?” 

Stiles sighed. “It was a lot less stressful than I thought. Thank you for your help.” He sighed as he reached into his jeep and grabbed his leather jacket. He pulled off his ties and threw the jacket on. “Here’s the truth. I finished most of my classes last year and only have three classes this year; Forensics, Classical Literature, and trigonometry. The only reason I have not graduated is because I started skipping literature and trigonometry last year.” He turned toward the other man, leaning against the jeep.

Jackson nodded, smiling at him. “Why forensics?” 

“No one has told you that I want to be a forensics anthropologist?” Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “I thought that was everyone’s new favorite pastime, gossiping about me.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. “It’s my favorite class and Mr. Hale is a genius. I’ve taken forensics for the last 4 years and I’m his teacher’s aid for independent study this year.”

 “That is actually pretty cool.” He blushed, licking his lips. “You really shouldn’t be smoking.” 

“Yeah, I know, it’s terrible for my health.” Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, there is that, but it’s also not allowed on campus. The headmaster or Harris will call the cops on you.” Jackson shrugged. 

Stiles nodded, sighing softly. “Well, I was supposed to meet you in an hour for tutoring, but I’m starving. Want to go to the café? I’ll drive and you can put that monstrosity in the back.” 

Jackson frowned. “It’s just a scooter… but that sounds fine. I’ll pay.” 

“You won’t get an argument from me.” Stiles sighed as he climbed into the jeep. He could not believe he had offered to eat with Jackson, but he was not one to turn down a free meal. “You have a Porsche. Why are you riding around on a scooter?”

Jackson climbed in and stared at him a moment. “The Porsche belongs to my father. There is no point to me having a car like that when I really don’t go anywhere. The scooter is better for getting around campus.” He pushed the glasses up his nose as he buckled his seatbelt. “Though my father did say he’d buy me one when I graduate. It's a gift for getting into Oxford.” 

“Right…” Stiles sighed as started driving toward the little café he frequented for his afternoon meal. “You really are the typical rich boy.” He grinned at him. 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “My father is rich. I do not have a dime to my name.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I go on shopping sprees every night.” 

Stiles raised a brow at him. “I have an after school job, to help my dad so I have money for college… Well I had a job. He fired me last week.” He sighed, waiting at a red light. “Let me guess, your tuition is already paid.” 

Jackson groaned, laying his head back. “I have a scholarship, but I had to work really hard for that honor, Stiles.” He licked his lips, looking over at him. “I’ll admit that I have a trust fund, but I can’t touch that until I graduate college.” 

Stiles nodded, raising a brow at him. “Your dad is really tight on the purses, huh?” He smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “I’m just messing with you. It’s not your fault that you’re rich, Jackson.” He thought for a moment as he pulled into the parking lot. “I don’t think I can go to college. I’ve really fucked that up.” 

Jackson shrugged. “Well, you’ll need to if you want to go into forensic anthropology.” He smirked at him and sighed. “Take a gap year, work on your test results and apply again next year. I can help you.” 

Stiles parked the Jeep and turned in his seat to face Jackson. He was a little shocked that the boy was making such an offer. “Why the bloody hell would you want to help me? I’ve been nothing but an ass to you…” He stared at him for a moment. “I think my father would really like it if I went to college but even if I got in, I could not afford it.” 

Jackson nodded. “You could apply for scholarships or grants. I really don’t mind helping you.” He hopped out the car and started walking toward the Café door. He did not really know why he cared about whether Stiles went to college or not. They barely knew each other. 

Stiles followed him into the café, with a shrug. “Look, you really do not have to do me any favors, Jackson.” He slumped into a seat and looked up at Jackson. “I’ll take a nonfat cappuccino with a honey croissant.” He grinned. 

Jackson chuckled and walked over to put in their orders. He was back a few minutes later and slid into a seat across from Stiles. “Anyway… It’s not that I think that you need the charity or anything, but I feel like you should not give up on college.” 

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “You really can’t really leave well enough alone.” He looked around the café with a groan. “I’ll think about it, and talk about it with my dad. If I know him, he’ll be on your side.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Jackson smiled. 

“Why do you care so much? You hardly know me?” Stiles chewed his lip staring at the table. He grabbed a napkin and began tearing it into tiny pieces. 

Jackson watched him frowning. “I feel like we’ve been through this, but the truth is, I don’t know. I don’t hate you and it’d be nice to get to know you better. I don’t have a lot of friends, except Levi. Levi loves you, so you must have a softer side.” 

“Such high praise.” Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “So you just want to spend more time with me? That is weird. I’m a complete dick.” 

“Not a complete dick.” Jackson grinned. “Just a self sabotaging dick.” Their orders arrived and Jackson began sipping his latte. “I don’t know the circumstances very well, but I have decided not to judge you over things I have no idea about.” 

“Bloody hell, you are too fucking reasonable.” Stiles groaned. He picked at his croissant, thinking. “So… Instead of tutoring today… seeing that I just took that test… why don’t we catch a movie? I’ll pay for the movie.” 

Jackson raised a brow at him. “You are offering to spend more time with me?” 

“Yeah, well, Levi wants me to give you a chance?” Stiles smirked. 

“So… is this just making Levi happy or would this be a date?” Jackson sighed. 

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t really date, and I had no idea you were into guys.” 

Jackson frowned, looking at the table. “I really don’t know what I am into. I haven't been on many dates either. What I do know is that I find you fascinating. I can’t really get you off my mind… Whether I’m cursing your name or smiling over some idiotic thing you’ve said.” 

Stiles nearly choked on his cappuccino. “That is both the worst and the nicest thing anyone has said to me.” He shook his head. “What the hell? I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight and we’ll go on a bloody date.” He smiled ruefully. “I’ll even wear my good jacket. It’s the one without the blood on it.” 

Jackson snickered. “Did you just quote Brooklynn 99?”

”You know Brooklynn 99?” Stiles gasped. “You are way more complex than I thought.” 

Jackson smiled. “I have many sides, Stiles Stilinski.” 

📚

Stiles stood in front of the mirror frowning. “”I look like a spaz.” He sighed, looking at his best friend. 

Levi shook his head. “No, you look nice. Jackson is… I still can’t believe you are going on a date with Jackson. Just two days ago, you two were in a fist fight.” He shook his head and began combing Stiles’s hair. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Stiles groaned, slapping his hand away. “Why not. It’s just a movie, right? I can spend a couple hours at the cinema, and I guess Jackson is not such a bad guy.” He glared at him, sitting on his bed. “This shirt is too tight. What is wrong with a simple white t-shirt?” 

“You are not a 50s greaser?” Levi sighed. “Just yesterday you were telling me how insufferable Jackson is, and suddenly you are going to see a movie?” 

“He bought me coffee and we actually got to talking…” He smoothed out his hair again before looking at his watch. “I should get going. I told him I’d pick him up at 7 and the movie starts at 7:30. I really should not be late.” He fiddled with his hands, looking around the room.

Levi grinned. “You are totally getting into this.” He gripped his shoulder. “You are right. It’s just a movie. Calm down.” 

Stiles looked at him, chewing on his lip. “I don’t date, Levi. This is weird. The last time I went on an actual date it was a disaster.” 

“You were 14, and it was to get pizza. We were never going to turn into anything more than friends. I don’t even know why we called that a date.” Levi quipped. “I always had a thing for muscles. You’re too scrawny.” 

Stiles laughed. “Good thing Derek is completely in love with you. He’s got plenty of muscles.” He raised a brow. “So, why did you dump him?” 

Levi groaned. “Not you too. I’m going to the states. I do not want him to have to wait for me. What if I don’t come back?” 

“He’d go with you if you asked. He loves you.” 

“That is not fair to him, Stiles.” Levi shook his head. “And it’s too much pressure. I’m only 18, and he wants a more permanent relationship. Yes, I love him. He has supported me through so much… Erica’s death and my transition, but I don’t know if I’m ready to marry him.” 

“He’s not asking you to, Levi.” Stiles groaned. “Isaac says he’s completely shattered about losing you. Just talk to him. Let him know what you want and let him decide whether he wants to wait for you.” 

Levi glared at him. ‘I’ll think about it. When did you become the reasonable one?” 

“I’ve always been reasonable. Sometimes falling apart is the logical solution.” Stiles grinned. “You deserve for you and Derek to figure this out.” 

Levi nodded. “Get out and go on your date.” 

Stiles chuckled. “Fine. Love you, Levi.” 

“Yeah, yeah love you too.” Levi sighed, slumping in his chair.

📚

Jackson fixed the sleeves on his black button up and looked at himself in the mirror. He knew this was just supposed to be a simple movie date but he was killing himself trying to look nice. He fixed his hair a final time and grabbed his wallet and keys, pushing them into the pocket of his slacks. There was a knock at his door and he went over to answer. 

Stiles stood at the door, staring at him. “Wow, you clean up nicely.” He chuckled and blushed softly. “That was awkward…” 

Jackson laughed. “You look very nice too. Where would you even get red jeans that are that tight?” 

“Oh, I borrowed them from Levi. You’d have to ask him.” He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Are you ready to go?” 

Jackson chewed his lip and nodded. “Uh, yeah. Let me just grab the keys to my dad’s car and we can get going.” 

“No, I can drive.” Stiles frowned. “If you don’t mind.”

Jackson shrugged. “If you’re sure.” He led Stiles out of his room, locking the door behind him. “It’s a pretty cool jeep. Kind of old but it’s got character.”

Stiles smiled as they walked down to the parking lot. “Yeah, it was my mom’s. My dad gave it to me when I got my license. It’s better than riding around town in a sheriff’s cruiser.” 

“Wow, I’ve never heard you talk about your mom before.” Jackson smiled at him. “She sounds like a pretty cool person, I guess.” 

Stiles nodded. “She died when I was ten. I really don’t know much about her.” 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“No, you didn’t know. It was frontotemporal dementia.” Stiles shook his head as he opened the jeep door for Jackson. “Why don’t you tell me about your parents? I mean you’re the headmaster’s son. That is crazy.” He chuckled. 

Jackson laughed, climbing into the vehicle. “Actually I’m adopted.” 

Stiles closed the door, staring at him. “Really? I guess your parents chose you. My father is stuck with me.” He chuckled. 

Jackson laughed, shaking his head. “Come on or we’ll be late for the movie.” 

“Well, there’ll be like 15 minutes of previews first.” Stiles smiled climbing into the jeep. 

“That is the best part.” Jackson frowned. He was actually surprised that they were having fun already. “You cannot enjoy the movie without watching the previews first.” 

Stiles laughed, putting the jeep into drive. “That is absolutely insane, but I guess I can get us there in time for your previews.” He smiled at the other man and started toward the cinema. “So, do you have any contact with your birth parents or is it some sort of sealed documents thing?”

Jackson blushed. “Uh, my parents were involved in a car accident when my mum was pregnant. My dad died on the scene.” He gulped looking down at his hands. “My mum was put on life support and died less than an hour after I was born.” 

Stiles cursed, shaking his head. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole.” 

Jackson smiled at him. “No, it’s not like you knew. It’s not something I advertise, you know.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ve always felt lucky to have the Whittmores in my life. They’re good people.” 

“Okay, let’s just start over. I keep making this night awkward.” Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. “So, this movie is in a foreign language. Is that alright? French… Do you speak French?” 

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Fluently. I love French movies. Thank you.” He fiddled with his watch as he watched the town go by. Stiles was right about this being a little awkward but he was glad that he had decided to go out with him. He seemed more human tonight, more down to earth. “I did not see you as a foreign film guy.” 

Stiles chuckled. “I have many sides, Jackson Whittemore.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

Jackson laughed. “Touché.” He blushed, looking away from him. That was entirely too cute.  “Why are you being this pleasant? It seems so unlike you.” 

Stiles shrugged. “I’m not sure. I… I haven’t really been on a date. Well there was one when I was 14, but that was with Levi, and we were always too much like siblings, you know.” 

“Yeah, I get it. I’ve only ever gone out with girls my parents have set me up with. I never really liked them, but they were a pleasant enough experience. I wasn’t really sure what to expect tonight. My father told me to stay away from you, and he would be quite upset to know I agreed to a movie with you.”

Stiles sighed and nodded. “Well as many times I end up in his office, I can understand. I’m glad that you agreed to go out with me though. I’m having a good time.” Stiles parked the jeep behind the cinema and smiled. “Let’s go watch a movie.” 

Jackson nodded, hopping out of the jeep. “That sounds like an absolutely amazing idea.” He walked around and offered his hand to the other man. 

Stiles looked at his hand for a moment before lacing their fingers together as they headed for the front of the theater. 

📚

Jackson chuckled as he fumbled with his keys outside his dorm room. “Tonight has been fun. Thank you.” 

Stiles nodded, leaning against the door frame. “It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. We went a whole day without fighting. It’s a record for us.” He smirked, looking up at him. “So…” 

Jackson chewed his lip, unlocking his door. “So, why don’t you come in? I'm sure that we can afford a few more moments together.” 

Stiles laughed softly. “I would like that? Have anything to drink?” He grinned as he walked into the room. 

Jackson nodded, thinking. “I have Dr, Pepper or water.” He walked over to his mini fridge and pulled out a couple bottles, showing them to Stiles. 

“Oh, glass bottled Dr. Pepper. I’ll take one of those. They’re the best.” Stiles chuckled, taking a seat at Jackson’s desk. It seemed the most logical choice being that he had never been in Jackson’s room before. 

“Ice?” Jackson asked. Stiles shook his head and Jackson just handed him the bottle. “That movie was nice. Gerard Depardieu is a treasure.” 

Stiles smirked. “Yeah, I barely understood what they were saying, but I was able to read the subtitles at least. It was a great commentary on mental illness.” 

Jackson blushed. “You got that too?” He sipped a bottle of water, looking around the room. “I would love to be an artist in France. I guess that is a silly dream though. I’m destined to be a politician.” He sighed, sitting on his bed.

Stiles shook his head. “It’s not silly, Jackson. I can’t see why you can’t be both. I mean politicians have hobbies don’t they, but do you really want to go into politics? It doesn’t look like you enjoy the idea.” 

Jackson sighed. “Not really, but it’s what my father wants for me. He has been planning for this all my life.” 

“You’re an adult Jackson… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Stiles opened his soda, taking a drink. “But it’s none of my business.” He smiled, winking at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun with another person, outside of my usual group of friends.” 

Jackson's cheeks warmed to a dark pink as he stared at Stiles. “Oh, wow. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.” He chewed his lip reaching over to pull Stiles’s chair closer to the bed. “I had a great time tonight, Stiles. Thank you. I needed to do this.” 

Stiles gulped, staring into his eyes. He placed his soda on the desk and reached up to trace under Jackson’s black eyes. “You are actually quite beautiful. I’m sorry that I punched you.” 

Jackson gasped. “I already forgave you for that. It was such a ridiculous argument. I should not have brought up your friend, and I’m sorry for pinning you to the ground. Mr. Hale said you have an issue with personal space.”  

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “It was the only way to keep me from hitting you again.” Their faces were inches apart and Stiles let out a long breath. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Jackson gulped and nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Stiles sighed, pressing a soft to Jackson’s lips. He heard the other man whimper and slowly began to deepen the kiss. 

Jackson groaned as Stiles licked his bottom lip. He opened his mouth in surprise and stiles nipped at his lip. He pulled back with his face flushing. “Mon Dieu.” He smiled, biting his lip. “That was…” 

“Amazing.” Stiles smiled, running a hand through his hair. “Was that okay?” 

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never really kissed anyone before. I did not think it would feel like this.” 

“You’ve never been kissed before?” Stiles smirked. “I feel like I should be honored.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, we should do this again sometimes.” He grinned at the other man, sipping his soda. 

Jackson nodded as he stood up. He knew that he should not have told him that. “Let me see you out. I'd love to do this again.” He smiled, offering his hand to Stiles. 

Stiles took his hand and walked to the door with him. He stopped right outside the door and sighed. “Can I kiss you again?” 

Jackson nodded. “I would like that.” He sighed as he kissed Stiles, cupping his cheek. 

Stiles pulled back after a moment, smiling. “Good night, Jackson.” 

“Goodnight, Stiles.” Jackson grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow…” He fixed his glasses and bit his lip. “Wait, give me your phone.” 

“…Alright.” Stiles raised a brow and handed him the phone. 

Jackson programmed his number into the phone and handed it back to Stiles. “Call me.” 

Stiles laughed softly and nodded. “I’ll do that. I’ll let you know I got home alright.” He grinned as he walked down the hall. He could not believe that the night had been so amazing, 

To be continued…

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Katya: A Poem

"Goncharov" is a 1973 Martin Scorsese film that Tumblr collectively invented in 2022. I'd heard of it, but didn't take too much interest in it. It was only recently that I found out that "Goncharov" had a sapphic ship, between Katya and Sofia. That was what piqued my interest.

In a flurry of activity, I wrote a poem.

I am indebted to all the Tumblr bloggers who came before me, whose creations were captured in this "Goncharov" master doc and this collection of quotes. I hope you enjoy the poem I strung together from your posts!

If you reblog this, make sure to add the tags #unreality and #unrealism so people who would find it triggering don't see it. Remember to Gonch responsibly!

Yekaterina Mikhailova. 

That was my name. 

It was a name that meant nothing,

because I was nothing. 

My father’s daughter,

my brother’s sister. 

For a time, we were rich. 

Then our father received a visit from his co-workers

in the mafia. 

He came between them

and his daughter. 

He died with a smile on his face. 

For the next three years, we were poor. 

My brother and I,

living – no, merely surviving –

together on the streets,

made a resolution:

never again would we fall so low. 

Never again would we be so weak. 

So penniless. 

So worthless. 

We tracked down our uncle. 

Thanks to him, we joined the mafia ourselves –

me first,

my brother later, more reluctantly. 

He learnt not to question what I did,

no matter how much of a father

he wanted to be to me. 

I only have one mother, one father, one brother, one uncle,

but I could trace a path

from Naples to my childhood home in Moscow

with the blood of all the men

who told me they loved me. 

…

Later, I trained as a spy. 

It was in that line of work that I found Lo Straniero. 

The stranger. 

He told me his real name was Leonid Goncharov. 

I chose to believe him. 

What is marriage,

but a way to escape the names of our fathers? 

When I walked towards Goncharov

at the altar,

I thought that would be the moment

I would finally become someone

real enough

to have flesh and blood

to call mine. 

Perhaps the name Yekaterina

wouldn’t sound so empty on my lips. 

And with those same lips

I called his name,

and smiled at him in front of God,

and kissed him in the dark of our room. 

And all I became was his wife. 

A wedding is no different to a funeral,

is it not? 

The old Yekaterina died to Goncharov that day;

he took my name from me,

my very history,

and I allowed him that. 

My husband is a man who collects things he can use. 

A pistol,

a pocket watch,

a woman’s love,

a wife. 

My father would have needed me to marry,

so I did. 

Goncharov would have needed me to love him,

so I did. 

I truly did. 

Oh, I was a good woman, wasn’t I?  

A wife when he needed someone to bed,

a sister when he needed someone to argue with,

a mother when he needed to cry... 

Is that all women were in his eyes?  

Actors? 

Pretty dolls to dress up and spin around

according to his needs? 

No, I shouldn’t be so harsh. 

It wasn’t his fault

he could only ever fall in love with men. 

But the way he treated me? 

That was his fault. 

I needed a new place to exist. 

I found you in the fruit stand. 

…

Sofia Ambrosini. 

That was your name. 

With your serpent bracelet twinkling,

you stooped to pick up the fallen apple

that had escaped my basket

and rolled towards your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood. 

I recognised from your false leg

and your false snake

that you were in the same world as me –

the same world of murder

whose space we shared precariously. 

But in that moment

we could be two women in a market

shopping for two men,

me my husband,

you your brother. 

Because it’s so hard to make friends in a world of murder. 

But here we were in public,

under the Sun,

and just for a while,

we could pretend we were women

who knew each other from …

somewhere. 

Just making friends. 

Just leading each other into temptation. 

It was the apple’s fault. 

It was the apple that made me bring up Adam and Eve. 

There we so many strange apples at that market. 

I imagined the wild way they looked

was how they looked in the Garden of Eden. 

But then you said,

“I never understood why it had to be an apple. 

Why an apple?” 

I answered, “I don’t know.

Because it’s always been an apple, I suppose.

It’s easier to recreate in art.  

All the painters and sculptors

and everyone else who makes those choices,

they all came together and decided

that an apple looks pretty simple –

nice, smooth, round,

easy enough to draw in a tree –

and now everyone sees nothing but apples

in the Tree of Knowledge

ever after.  

So it’s always apples.” 

I will never forget your response. 

“The dullest possible produce.  

The Forbidden Fruit is supposed to be

something unusual,

something special.  

All the knowledge of the world

and of each other

and of the realisation

that these two fools are

running around the Garden

with their bottoms bare

in front of the Almighty.  

An apple doesn’t seem right for that.  

It’s dull.  

It’s a thing for pastry and postcards.”  

“What would you pick instead?” I asked. 

“Pomegranates,” you said immediately.  “No question.  

It’s the fruit that the God of the Dead used

to trick the Goddess of Spring

into staying with him in the Underworld.  

She tasted the seeds

and she was forced to stay down there

for half a year, every year,

forever. 

A fruit so powerful

it can trap a goddess

seems like the kind of fruit

that can banish humanity from Paradise.” 

We paused. 

We made eye contact. 

“Tastes better than apples, too,” you added. 

And it looks like a jewel

when you split it open.” 

I ate a pomegranate panna cotta

in the bistro later that day. 

And when I licked my lips,

I immediately understood you. 

I did like apples,

but pomegranates? 

They were amazing. 

I’d go to Hell for them. 

I’d go to Hell for you. 

…

“Oh, it’s six already?”

Goncharov said to me when I returned home. 

“The clock’s broken,” I replied. 

“It’s been six for hours.” 

If only time would stop for us. 

…

I was raised Orthodox,

but Goncharov and I had been attending a Catholic Mass

to better fit in with the locals. 

I was unsettled by the topic of Father Gianni’s sermon:

the sins of the flesh,

the importance of resisting Earthly temptations,

and the necessity of self-control in this life,

thereby preparing for glories to come. 

Were there any glories to come? 

You, Sofia, got up to leave in the middle of the sermon,

heading for the stained-glass Virgin Mary,

and you whispered as you passed,

“Take your glories where you may.” 

And like the fishermen who left their nets

to follow Jesus

and become fishers of men,

I got up

and followed you. 

I did not know how my husband felt about me doing that. 

I did not care. 

I started partaking of apples and pomegranates

in equal measure. 

…

Sofia, you told me you had never even touched a gun before. 

But you were clearly too skilled

when those men cornered you

and you took them all down. 

Admit it. 

You just lied because

you wanted me to give you that “hands-on” shooting lesson,

didn’t you? 

“Are we not all murderers in some way, Katya?”

you said to me when I challenged you. 

“After all, a human being is a heart. 

Break that, and how can it go on living?” 

I had to ask,

“Don’t you have a broken heart, Sofia?” 

“It still beats, Katya,” you said, quietly. 

“It still beats.” 

…

For me, it’s always been the darkness I liked;

the way the lights roll off the water between the alleyways

reminds me of the past. 

…

You were adamant in your belief

that all memory is treachery. 

But one of my favourite memories

was us together in my husband’s house,

after dinner at the casino,

me in my evening gown,

you dressed as a waiter. 

You’d asked, “What’s your poison?” 

I’d answered, “Whatever you’re having, darling.” 

For the first time since moving to Naples,

I shook off the white furs

and showed you my dress –

the woman

under the animal. 

“You look good in red,” you said to me. 

Then you called me lisichka. 

Little fox. 

Which should have sounded wrong,

a Russian pet name in an Italian accent,

but that night it sounded right. 

I returned the compliments. 

“And you look good in green,

kukolka.” 

Little doll. 

I gave you one of my pearl necklaces. 

“Every woman should be allowed

to feel like she is looked at

beautifully.” 

My husband’s voice resounded in my head:

“Time isn’t like your pearls, Yekaterina. 

You can’t buy more. 

You think you can own time by wearing it,

but it just beats itself into your bones instead.” 

Well, no-one can tell me what I can and can’t buy. 

…

“If I were cursed, Sofia,

then I would never have found you.” 

“You could still lose me.” 

“Never.” 

…

I started being Katya,

being myself,

not because I fell into my role as Goncharov’s wife,

but because I discovered my inability. 

My unwillingness. 

I knew he cared for me,

but not beyond the presentation we put on for his peers. 

The peers who could end his life at any moment. 

And it wouldn’t be so unbearable

if we were at least still friends,

but all of that went to Andrey –

the friendship, the love, the care –

at least as much as Goncharov was capable of

beyond his own inadequacies. 

Andrey could not live loyally,

so let’s see how he does in death. 

…

I didn’t want Goncharov’s name in your mouth. 

I should have taken his money and left. 

It’s not obvious why I didn’t. 

All this time wandering the wreckage of his house –

I’m sorry, Sofia, it must have killed you. 

“Unlike you,” you said to me,

“I do not lure to cannibalise. 

I watch, and I starve.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Well, stop it! 

What do you take me for? 

Stop watching and devour me in full already,

won’t you?” 

So you did. 

I must have looked like a jewel

when you split me open. 

…

“I’ll stay with you tonight, if you’ll have me.” 

“I wouldn’t have anyone else.” 

I lay in bed with you. 

We wanted to do so much,

but ended up doing so little. 

I ran my foot up and down your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood. 

I thought of what I knew

(what little I knew)

about your past –

how your Jewish family came to Naples,

how you lost them somewhere,

how the Poor Clares took you in and cared for you,

how you searched for your family amidst the Nazis,

how you lost that leg in the riots. 

“The world wants you dead,” I said,

more to myself than you. 

You turned to me. 

“Do you want me dead?” 

I forced myself to meet your eyes. 

“No.” 

You shrugged. 

“Then the world doesn’t want me dead.” 

We stayed in bed together for a while after that. 

…

We were always wasting time we never had. 

How could I love something which was never there? 

Oh, darling, that’s just grief. 

Time is like blood,

and I have wasted both. 

We could not go on forever,

could not fight the story,

could not step outside the marriage

or the mafia

or else. 

We were animals,

and animals, whether wild or tamed,

cannot fight the inevitable. 

“Time stops for no-one, Katya. 

Not even us.” 

…

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Wishful thinking.” 

“Sofia, I’m not cut out for the life you’re offering me. 

That different life. 

I am chained to my history –

a short chain. 

That’s why I cannot leave with you.” 

That’s why you and I

and my husband

and his lover

and your brother

and our enemies

are all in this boathouse. 

November’s the cruellest month of the year,

and Naples is full of fools. 

…

“Of course we’re in love!” I scream at Goncharov. 

“That’s why I tried to shoot you!” 

He laughs and cries at the same time. 

“If we really were in love,

you wouldn’t have missed.” 

He’s right. 

Our love was a grenade,

and now all that remains is shrapnel. 

He loved me, but only for a minute. 

I don’t know if he could handle any more. 

Love cannot be bought;

otherwise, we would have had a happy marriage. 

When we got married, I drew this line

between us and the world. 

He’s crossed that line,

and I can’t go with him. 

He and I are,

I think,

finally out of time. 

He has destroyed and betrayed himself

for nothing. 

That is his worst sin. 

My inability to be loyal to my husband

is what saved me. 

And what now kills him. 

What could now kill you, if you let it. 

…

You are pleading with me. 

“We can have the Forbidden Fruit

and it can be whatever we want!  

Let it be a pomegranate!  

Let us glut ourselves on it!  

And why do we have to follow everyone else’s rules

about what is and isn’t forbidden, anyway?  

None of us in this boathouse

are living within the law in the first place.  

There is blood on everyone’s hands.  

Can’t you and I sin a little sweeter?  

Can’t you admit that the sin you want most

isn’t a sin at all? 

Can’t you spit out the lies you’ve swallowed

in the Hell you found yourself in? 

We could grow our own garden somewhere!”

No, Sofia. 

This is my garden,

my Tree of Knowledge,

better the Devil I know,

and you wish you were my Serpent,

but this is my Underworld to rule

as much as any queen can rule there,

unhappy

but resigned. 

Go, Eve. 

Grow your garden alone. 

The Forbidden Fruit is there to be eaten,

to force us to go,

to let us step outside the walls meant to keep us in. 

But you just can’t make everyone eat. 

The pomegranate is within my reach,

but I have lost my appetite for seeds. 

…

I do what Goncharov would do,

and you know what that means. 

Death. 

Goncharov has never meant anything else. 

I will die like my father,

with a smile on my face. 

I will die for you. 

You were once a little girl, alone and scared,

but that girl is long dead. 

The Sofia that lives now? 

The world should fear her. 

Damn them as they would damn us. 

But don’t you ever raise a hand to me. 

…

Sofia, don’t cry. 

There’s no use trying to rewrite the story now. 

Sofia, get out of this boathouse. 

Take my boat. 

It’s fine. 

I won’t need it anymore. 

Go, zolotse. 

Leave Naples. 

Leave Italy. 

Leave the mafia behind. 

But take your two candlesticks with you. 

Light them on a Friday evening,

and watch the red of the sunset

wash over the white of the candles. 

Sofia, take your day of rest. 

No, a year of rest. 

Make every day a Shabbat. 

Remember to bless yourself. 

Sofia, choose wisely what you do now,

because it might be the last time you get to choose. 

“All memory is treachery.” 

I wonder how you will remember me. 

[quitesins]

Spices from the South

Masterlist

Bakugou x fem!reader.

Tags: SFW, drabble, kinda headcanons, ooc, implied South Asian reader with no physical attributed stated! Established relationship, this is clearly for a very specific niche[me :3] -oh god wait this is not describing reader as spicy or anything- I’m legitimately talking about food here.

I like to think Katsuki would absolutely LOVE south Asian food. He’s always liked his spices so dishes from desh always have been a fave.

Normally he’s the one to cook at home, taking pride in his skills but if you decide to cook, he’s eyebrows up, eager to see what you make.

Even if your tastes are milder, he still drools over it. Something about the domesticity of it all, how he can imagine you over and over again, flittering away through his kitchen, like it’s your own- really, it will be soon.

This is a given, who doesn’t like samosas, but he will nom his way through as many as you hand him. However do not point out how the spikes of his hair look awfully familiar because he will nom YOU, a weird trait he developed that he insists is to tease but you know- the soft bites to your cheeks are just his unspoken affections.

Katsuki- he’ll deny it- has a slight sweet tooth. Mishti is a bit much for him at times, but he’ll never drop the chance to have Shemai. He’s actually such a sucker for the stuff. Even when he does the dad thing of “I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.” You will never not catch him with a bowl of it by the end of the night.

He’s never been one to drink much tea, but tell me once you put him on, he’s been put on. Can no longer drink tea without spices swimming around in his pot. He’s picked up the habit of offering Masala Saa, the way you make it, when his parents come over. His mother laughs and ruffles his hair, his father sips with a knowing smile- you’re everywhere, even when you’re not.

Katsuki has always been a fast learner, so watching you, he’s already picked up a bunch of recipes. Much to your chagrin, he will out cook you- without even trying!! Gifted bastard…

To be specific he absolutely loves a Kacchi Biryani, it’s just such a … him dish lol. Especially when he ups the heat. Mind the awful joke kacchan biryani though, you might be his girlfriend love of his life but he will deadpan and stop talking to you until you’ve come off the giggles.

Ever so organised, Katsuki is one to have all his spices and herbs labelled and stored away neatly. When you ask if you can add your own labels, in your mother tongue, he thinks it should tick him off but it doesn’t. Instead, when you’re away, he thumbs the labels, a little messier than his printed handwriting, somehow smitten over the tiny pieces of you left behind.

He’ll even make the effort to try learn the names, knowing you have a cute habit of forgetting the English words- that has you trying to describe the spices through wild hand gestures and silly sounds. When you both do finally communicate and figure out the mystery spice, a little part of him doesn’t wish to give you the English, so he can watch you animatedly describe what an elaichi is, all over again.

He’s too far gone, he thinks, that anything you do has him smiling like dumbass. That stupid little interactions like these have his heart weird and warm. He’ll shake his head, maybe it’s the heartburn, but he god damn knows it isn’t. It’s you, and he fucking loves it.

Extra: Me thinks Kats’ is a fuckin grandma who straight up chews Naga Moriss like it’s nothin’- to your absolute disbelief. He’ll even pop a few in his mouth before work, just to get his sweat going… Katsuki!!! You’re the worst!!!

Haiii guyssssssss, yeah man Idk I was just cooking and delulu brain was like damn, Kats’ would fuckin love this. Idrc what the actual English spellings are for the words I used, I’m just writing the way I speak so if google doesn’t show them- sorry!

[t-lane-writes]

Characters out of context tags

I wasn't tagged, but I'm stealing this from @void-botanist open tag. Hope that's cool with you? ;) 

Rules: Include one character quote of your choosing ⁠from each chapter of your WIP (or as many chapters as you'd like). Give absolutely no context, save for what's between two parts of an interrupted sentence, should that occur. You may mention who said it. 

#1 Zoe: “Kenaed, breathe. There’s no one here. We’re fine.” 

#2 Kenaed: “Because you don’t know me. You know the old me, the one from before, but this--”  

#3 Kenaed: “There was a human, there, with them. Herding them.” 

#4 Cee’va: “Do you think it looks a little like what we sometimes find inside the clams?” 

#5 Mattan Nuada: “Why don’t you two take a breath!” 

#6 Zoe: “I have no idea. We haven’t spoken in two sunups.” 

#7 Mattan: “We didn’t have families like those you do, here,” 

#8 Cee’va: “Seems we have a one-point-one-four-two-five of a child between us,” 

#9 Kenaed: “That’s all we have. Another ten years.” 

#10 Kenaed: “In this storm, it’s gonna be harder than you think.” 

#11 BT: “Are you making progress?” 

#12 Kenaed: “And then they won’t drop nuclear missiles on our heads,” 

#13 Kenaed: “Oh, so you wanted me to be a part of this conversation,” 

#14 Zoe: “I’m not sure I disagree with him completely. Or agree, to be frank. I just don’t know.” 

#15 Cee’va: “I never thought I’ll see a slow-moving shiruken.” 

#16 Zoe: “So, we shouldn’t consider them human, either?” 

#17 Alec Nuada: “We? You speak as if you are one of them,” 

#18 Eka Isa: “I told you about the Hermit. What if it’s real?” 

#19 Zoe: “They kept other things from him. Perhaps Nuada kept that too.” 

#20 Kenaed: “You are not going outside. That’s final.” 

#21 Mattan Nuada: “What is it you demand of me?” 

#22 Kenaed: “He’s not a Heritage man, Zoe,” 

#23 Mattan Nuada: “Kenaed believes this? What about the others?” 

#24 Zoe: “I think we planted a seed of doubt.” 

#25 Miranda: “We are fascinated with family relations in your society. Do you have daughters as well?” 

That’s all the chapters have written so far. I may add to this post eventually, we’ll see... 

Tagging: @echo-bleu , @drippingmoon , @sunset-a-story , @vollzz , @your-absent-father , @did-i-do-this-write , @broodparasitism , @asablehart , @careful-fear . No obligation, of course. :)

[underratedandoverit]

Immortal Fears (5/?)

The International title has the power to make you question so many things; yourself, your relationships, everything. It makes you believe the only thing worthy of it is you, and vice versa. It is believed that holding it will have… Maddening consequences. Is any of it true? Is this just mind games played by your opponents instead, to get under your skin, to make you think losing the title to them is worth it? But is the current champion Orange Cassidy willing to take such a risk…?

Tags: Kip Sabian/Orange Cassidy (future). Hurt/comfort (eventually). Title Belt Corruption Arc. Enemies to lovers. Slow burn.

Best Friends/Chuck & Trent and Penelope make frequent cameos. More to be added.

On AO3 here

Yes this took two and a half months to write and no I'm not a huge fan of how it turned out tbh. But the content is integral for the future chapters, especially the next few, sssooo this exists now. Also wanted to highlight things a little bit from the side of our supporting cast, tho it doesnt really go into details about stuff.. Yet. 👀

Credits for @ss-trashboat babe for beta and my beloved @midnightpretenders0 for brainstorming this whole arc with me, it means so much to me 💜

@stormbornpirate

----------------------

Running her hand through his silver hair, Penelope observed the man laying on the bed, his head on the pillow on her lap. Kip had been talking enthusiastically the entire night about the downfall of the Best Friends, effectively trapping Penelope there to listen to him joke and laugh about this betrayal that had gone down earlier. How proud he was of this web that he had started to weave around them, controlling the now trio of friends like puppets on strings.

Penelope just nodded along, occasionally making a quiet approving sound to give out the illusion that she was listening to him. Obviously she was proud of what Kip had managed to achieve with this plan so far, but at the same time she had to wonder how much of this was actually them, and how much was just the other outside pressure - especially with Danhausen that Penelope knew they had nothing to do with - that was put on Cassidy that was causing all of this to happen.

She shouldn’t have cared about it as much as she did as everything was still going according to plan, but something about the sudden turn of events was bothering her. Penelope knew they put a lot of time and effort into trying to make this thing into something that benefited them as much as possible while tearing their competition down, while going towards their ultimate goal of that International championship being on the waist of her boyfriend sooner rather than later, but something about it didn’t quite add up.

It felt to her like there were some other powers at play here. And if someone knew what that felt like, it was her.

“…And then we will prey on his loneliness and insecurities until it’s time for the final act of this story: the climactic spectacle, the rematch, where the world will see me finally beat him for the International title. Where Kip Sabian will finally be victorious, where Kip Sabian will finally be crowned… A champion.”

Penelope just nodded, a hand running through his hair in an agreeing manner. Kip’s hands waved in the air a little as he spoke, signaling the amount of excitement and trust he had in his own words. Not that Penelope doubted him, but he was being a bit over dramatic this early in their plans.

“AEW International champion Kip Sabian…” He inhaled deeply, Penelope watching the smile playing on his lips, the man fully and truly already living in the fantasy created by those words. “Has the perfect ring to it, doesn’t it babe?”

“Mmhhmm.”

She watched as Kip’s brows furrowed a little, his head tilting back so he was, for the first time since laying down, actually directly looking at her. “Babe, is everything okay? I was expecting a bit more… Enthusiasm with that, to be honest.”

Penelope just shrugged a little, but Kip’s eyes were looking at her with such intense determination it was very obvious that he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily with such a response. Kip was very into this fantasy he was building in his own head, and he wanted her to live it along with him, obviously.

“Don’t you think this is just all a little bit… Too convenient?”

Kip’s eyes narrowed at her a little, but he remained silent. Penelope wasn’t sure if he was catching on to what she was talking about, or if he was too deep in his own head to understand that there were things at play here outside of their control. As the thought crossed her mind, she glanced over her shoulder across the hotel room, staring back at the box set on top of the dresser, as if it was left to overlook the room at all times while they were eventually going to be asleep.

“Convenient for us, definitely,” Kip finally muttered, Penelope’s eyes returning to him. “But that’s a good thing, right?”

“I don’t know.”

Penelope couldn’t really put her finger on it, but something about this whole thing felt off to her. Sure Danhausen had always been a wild card, as honestly it had just been a matter of time before he did something neither of them had been prepared for and threw a wrench into their plans, but something they hadn’t really thought about before was him actually helping them further, faster than they had prepared for. And something about that was making Penelope nervous about all of this, making her rethink the pacing of this whole thing going forward.

“It feels… Odd.”

Kip just shrugged, slowly sitting up on the bed, turning towards her. Penelope didn’t look back at him but focused on her hands instead, contemplating her own words over a bit more, trying to form a sentence that both of them could, in this situation, fully understand, that put her thoughts and feelings into some sensible order.

“Anything that propels us towards the ultimate end goal is good for us, isn’t it?”

She shrugged again, not being really sure if she could answer such a question honestly. It felt like it was good, but there was some form of small doubt in her mind. They had planned everything so perfectly from the start to finish, and even though they had thought about some hiccups, to Penelope, things were starting to go so much off the planned rails that it was becoming concerning.

She just wasn’t entirely sure how to bring this up with him in a way that he was going to believe her that this was probably a bad thing. Kip clearly wasn’t as strict about staying on the designed and approved road map they had laid out for themselves with this plan; it was so obvious he was going to cut any corner necessary, take any easy way out and any cheap shot, whether it came from inside or outside their group, to get what he wanted.

“You have to stop worrying about all of this so much.” There was a very slight singsongy, almost teasingly lighthearted tone in his voice as Kip spoke up again. Penelope didn’t respond to him, shortly afterwards feeling Kip reach for her, hand gently placed under her chin as he pushed her face back up, getting face to face with her again. He didn’t intend to be mocking, as the soft smile on his lips was clearly telling her.

“We got this, baby. There’s nothing the Zest Friends, Clementine, or anyone for that matter can do about it. It’s just a matter of time.”

She smiled at him, watching as Kip carefully leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “You just have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Penelope didn’t want to admit it, but he really didn’t, in reality. While yes, things were going in the right direction, it was less thanks to him than anyone or anything else. She remained quiet though, letting Kip bask in his blissful ignorance, hoping that things would just continue to go well enough that he wouldn’t notice the true course of things.

She just couldn’t shake the odd feeling that something was very off with their current situation, but if Kip didn’t see it, then maybe it ultimately wasn’t worth being brought up to disrupt the amount of glee he was currently experiencing with all of this.

Penelope followed his lead, leaning towards him to likewise steal a little kiss from his lips. She didn’t say anything, but the smile on her face and her actions spoke more than her unsure words surely could, giving Kip the sense he needed that they were on the same, safe page about all of this.

“Next week,” he stated as he pulled Penelope into his lap, kissing her again, “We got more work to do. I have a plan on how we can really show Clementine that those friends of his aren’t worth keeping around for much longer.”

---------------------

Chuck was absentmindedly scrolling around on his phone, trying to busy his mind with something else than the thoughts of the day as sleep just wasn’t coming to him. The silence in the dark hotel room was ringing in his ears, only occasionally being broken by the soft snores coming from Trent who was already fast asleep in the other bed. Chuck wasn’t sure how he was able to so easily fall asleep after such a day that they had, but at the same time maybe Trent wasn’t seeing the whole picture as easily as he was.

He couldn’t get the visual of Cassidy snapping so violently at Danhausen out of his mind. While the situation was definitely understandable, Chuck also had rarely seen him being like this that it was throwing him into a loop. Cassidy was usually so calm and collected, barely showing emotions publicly, so this was really out of character for him.

And while his outburst was justified, at least in Chuck’s opinion, just the thought of it made him shiver a little bit.

He hadn’t wanted to say anything before, but Chuck was sure everyone around them had noticed the subtle changes in Cassidy in the past few weeks. While most of this had definitely happened behind closed doors and away from the cameras, it was no secret that the champion had been struggling. The hints had been subtle but if you knew what to look for while he was in the ring, they were definitely noticeable. And the more Chuck scrolled through Twitter, seeing the various takes on tonight’s happenings, the more obvious it was that it was bleeding out to inside the ring as well, for the whole world to see.

People were talking about how Danhausen had snapped. How Cassidy deserved it. How this had been coming for weeks now, but they thought it was going to be the champion that cracked first. He was clearly tired, he needed a break. And so on and so on.

With a sigh, Chuck clicked off Twitter, almost on instinct opening Instagram instead. At least he didn’t have to read the comments over there, he could just enjoy some mindless scrolling of photos and hope to catch a glimpse of something more interesting and positive than whatever people were throwing around in the bird app. Scrolling past a few photos from tonight’s show and some promo shoots from people, one thing curiously kept poking out of his feed the longer Chuck kept going.

As the next ad popped up, he stopped. It was almost as if at that point a light bulb turned on in his head, Chuck looking at the flight offer with completely new eyes. Usually he just passed such ads by without a second thought, already knowing where he was going and when, most often already having flights booked for shows and such well in advance.

But this time it was something different. Maybe it was because of the exotic destinations they had listed in the ad, or maybe it was because he was in the mindset of thinking about Cassidy and his currently very exhausting lifestyle, but Chuck’s tired mind put one and one together with these two thoughts, actually forming an idea on the spot. He clicked on the ad, quickly sitting up on the bed as he continued to scroll through the selection of offers, actually finding a few pretty good deals, which was rare to see for a social media ad campaign.

Chuck glanced to the other bed, contemplating a little on waking Trent up to discuss this with him. Maybe this was a thing that could wait until the morning, and Chuck was sure he would still remember it by then unlike most of his middle of the night thoughts that regularly ran through his head. Trent had been complaining about a headache well into the night, especially after everything went down with Danhausen, so he had basically been out cold as soon as his head hit the pillow earlier. Chuck didn’t blame him, but out of all the times he could do that, of course it would be tonight when Chuck actually had a discussion worthy idea.

He kept scrolling through the page for a while longer, formulating a more coherent plan in his head. The flights were cheap, surely they could find a good but not too expensive or difficult destination to book a hotel in for a few days, for all three of them. Chuck didn’t dare to think about sending Cassidy out alone, and if he was going there too, of course Trent would need to be included. Just a few Best Friends on a relaxing little trip together, away from all the trouble and hassle of work for a few days to cleanse their palettes.

Well, Cassidy’s palette first and foremost obviously, but he wasn’t going to say that to him. It was probably going to end up being very obvious, but that was a bridge Chuck was ready to cross when they got to it eventually.

Copying the link to the ad, Chuck quickly sent it to Trent, detailing his plan in the text message as well. They could get Tony on the phone in the morning and get some time off for the well deserving champion and themselves. It was probably not going to be a huge deal if it was only going to be for a few days – they could easily be back for next week's Dynamite if needed.

Hearing Trent’s phone quietly beep on the nightstand but the man not reacting to the sound at all, Chuck smiled and nodded to himself in approval as he proceeded to continue to look through the options of locations they had to choose from in this specific sale. He didn’t really have any destinations in mind when he started planning this so suddenly, but Chuck knew Cassidy at least wasn’t picky about such things. Or he was hoping he still wasn’t, that’s at least how it had been in the past.

With how things had been changing recently, Chuck was hoping he could still at least trust that bit of knowledge he had about one of his closest friends. With so many things changing all of a sudden in such surprising ways, he was just holding onto hope that this wasn’t one of those things. Only time would tell however, depending on how Cassidy was going to react to the news in the morning, how things would go if they went through with this plan.

Chuck was determined to make it work though. He wasn’t entirely sure how, but hopefully with Cassidy agreeing to everything and Trent there to help make it all happen, it was going to work out. Hopefully.

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Okay so recently I used reddit to get a little bit more information about whatever is going on in the fastpass more but I just can’t help the fact that apparently LO fans are slandering the critics and calling us toxic? This is gonna be small but I just don’t get it nor do I understand it at all.

A sub that got my attention recently was about a cosplayer who was being harassed by LO haters. I want to take a moment and say that I don’t condone harassment and I never have, ever since I started this page I’ve always tried to make it clear that everything I say shouldn’t be used as fuel to harass anyone over a damn comic, it’s just not that serious to go to such drastic lengths. So my heart does go out to this cosplayer and I hope whoever is harassing them gets reported and handled properly so they won’t do it again, no one deserves that for liking the comic.

Now I’m sure you’re wondering where I’m going with this and I’ll tell you. Scrolling down the sub I did see people blaming the critics and even going as far as to call us toxic. There’s rules in the Anti LO/ Unpopular LO sub and one of them being kindness and no harassment/ personal insults of any kind. The fact that they think we’d go so far as to harass someone just enjoying themselves is mind blowing, I just hate how they’re making it seem like we’re absolutely horrible and the worst of the worst. It really is pretty hurtful to me because I’ve talked to and shared a lot of my own ideas with many critics on here and I was welcomed, this community is very kind and accepting even open minded as well. I’m not saying the LO fans aren’t but I am saying that what they say about people in this tag aren’t true.

Not only that but someone in a reply to a critic saying the exact same thing I did in the first paragraph went and insulted the fan art. They straight up say that we make disgusting caricatures of women… HUH??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?? The critics make bodies that are realistic towards women. They make women’s bodies look like the art that it is, they add curves, cellulite, stretch marks, hair, chins, and other things that are realistic to women. It’s disgusting in itself to even call their art that and it’s also so fucking hypocritical. How are you going to defend Rachel’s art and then bag on someone else’s? That defeats your point don’t you think and to be completely honest this is what I made a rant about in the first place. Was I hurt by the whole toxic thing? Yeah I was but I was willing to let that go but you don’t just get to call someone’s art disgusting and call realistic female bodies caricatures at all when LO has poor body diversity.

It’s annoying and irritating how I could sit here and try to defend this community using the nicest words known to man yet the fandom will continue to take it as aggression of some sort. The entire thing was uncalled for and entirely out of line. It was terrible that that person even said that.

Anyways that’s the end of the rant, and if you are one of those people who enjoy going to where the drama is (I understand I do it because I’d like to see the context) please just do not insult or harass this person if you do find them, last thing we need is to prove their point. Just ignore them and I’m sorry if I brought more attention to this or if I overreacted it was just a trigger for me because the art of this side of the fandom not only taught me how to see myself in a good light but also allowed me to actually see myself as worthy in my own skin and I will forever thank LO fan artists of this community for that.