#it makes everything around him easier to love simply by association

[rosaacicularis]

grian not being able to stomach the thought of purple because of the watchers vs scar unknowingly and inadvertently teaching grian to love it because of the lilacs <3

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XVIII)

New Player on the board

Part one // Masterpost // Continued from here

This part is dedicated to @neongalaxiie for their comment that made me smile today, I hope you enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

Ambrose got Kit into the car with relative simplicity. He was surprisingly lighter than before, which didn’t concern Ambrose. Not at all, it was just some information he stored in his head in case he needed it in future. Perhaps this time Ambrose can actually feed the hero properly…

Well, he could decide all that on the way. Right now he had to decide whether or not to throw the hero in the boot or in the backseat. He settled on the backseat, it was easier to keep an eye on the hero in case that red lightning guy came back.

Ambrose suppressed a shiver at the thought of that. That thing wasn’t Kit Mallory. Or, not the one Ambrose knew anyways. It did add to his curiosity about the boy, what kind of life he lived with Mentor. Ambrose set him in the backseat sitting up, hands cuffed in front of him with power dampeners just in case. He strapped the seatbelt over Kit and plugged it in before slamming the door shut and walking around to the driver’s side.

Ambrose didn’t exactly drive… under the radar. He was what his assistant would call a petrolhead, and it wasn’t a nickname he loathed. Ambrose had loved cars since he was five and his parents brought him to a vintage car show. He could still remember the first time he sat behind the wheel of a 1954 Bentley R-Type continental, he knew that he had to have one. A car that was, not a Bentley, he wasn’t some wedding chauffeur.

His obsession with cars only grew from there, from his first Volkswagen to now. His beast, his beauty, his pride and joy: a 2016 Rolls-Royce Wraith, with a monster 6.5 Litre Twin-Turbo V12 engine under the bonnet, custom painted black exterior. He had to get Tony to paint the door handles too (who almost cried when she saw it). Ambrose replaced the original wheels with forgiato wheels to add to the sleekness of the car. Original white, leather interior still as good as the day Ambrose bought it.

He loved it more than anything in the world.

And it was all his.

It represented everything that he wanted people to associate with him. Elegant, opulent, and functional, above all functional. The grace, style and status were just perks that came along with it.

It was late, close to ten when Ambrose got onto the main road. He could take the quick way through the backstreets to his house, but he hadn’t seen the city of like lights for what felt like a long, long time. He took the left into the city and drove along at a leisurely pace.

The radio was playing softly in the background, the Wraith’s purrs making up most of the background noise. Ambrose let out a soft sigh as he pulled up to a red light. He glanced in his rearview to see Kit still fast asleep. No red veins or blue ones, his head lolled against the window.

There was something so innocent about the gesture that made Ambrose look sharply away, eyes turning front again. He never had a little brother or sister, but in that moment, some small part of him — some delusional, sentimental part — wondered if this was what it was like. Checking the rearview to make sure that his brother was sleeping soundly, that he wasn’t showing any signs of pain or distress, or psychotic mania.

He wondered if he would be a good older brother in this hypothetical. Then he quickly disregarded the thought. Such a silly little thought experiment. Besides, of course he would be a good older brother. He would be the best, hands down, no doubt about it. Even if his passenger in the backseat would disagree.

His mind was wandering dangerously, simply because it was so quiet. It had to be because it was quiet, so Ambrose turned up the radio louder, but the song that was playing just ended. Instead a news reporter started speaking urgently.

Ambrose shook his head, tapping his fingers on the wheel when the light turned green just beside Hero plaza: well, Mentor’s memorial garden, more specifically.

“Stay out of the city tonight, there is a rogue Villain, perhaps Supervi—”

Ambrose didn’t get to hear the rest of the news report. When the light turned green he was already moving past the intersection, heading straight, driving through the Hero Plaza in the centre of the city.

His eyes were fixed forward so he didn’t see the hailstorm of debris from a shattered building coming from the right. He didn’t see the Supervillain levitating where Mentor’s statue should have been.

Ambrose didn’t see what was happening to his right. More like he heard it. A sudden onslaught of panicked thoughts that weren’t his raced through his mind and he panicked along with them.

What! They’re never this strong! Not unless— Ambrose glanced to his right and saw Villain levitating ten metres off the ground. As if meeting his gaze, the villain threw his hands forward and a hailstorm of debris went racing towards them.

Ambrose hit the gas, manoeuvring the gears quickly as he took off. The debris fell behind the Wraith, some stones clipping the tail end as he swerved a sharp corner, trying to cut off Villain’s eyesight from the car.

Of course, this was the same moment that Kit woke up. His head hit off the window of the car and he groaned, reaching his hands up to rub the bump. “Ambrose?”

Ambrose’s black eyes caught Kit’s in the rearview mirror. Something hard in them alerting Kit to the danger. “We have a problem.”

“A problem?”

Just as Ambrose was about to drive back into Villain’s sight line, debris like meteorites fell in front of them, tearing up the road ahead of the Wraith. Ambrose slammed his foot on the brakes and the pair jolted forwards in their seats.

“What’s going on?!” Kit demanded, searching the windows to try and see what the commotion was all about. Behind them Kit could see a pile up of cars, people screaming and sirens already blaring. “Ambrose!”

Ambrose’s grip on the wheel was white-knuckled, his face paler than usual as his chest heaved up and down. “There’s a Villain by Mentor’s memorial garden.”

“What?! Let me out!”

Ambrose didn’t reply. Kit went to unhook his seatbelt but Ambrose stopped him. “Kit! It looks like they have telekinesis,” Ambrose said through clenched teeth.

It felt as if the debris fell on Kit’s chest, crushing it from the inside out. A disbelieving what? fell from his lips. His vision seemed to narrow to a pinpoint, his lungs slowing his breaths. His voice raised a little hysterically: “what do you mean they have telekinesis?”

“It’s just what I saw.”

“Well you saw wrong!” Kit argued, his eyes wide and desperate. “The chances of another telekinetic—”

“I know—”

“Do you hear what you’re saying?! There’s no way—”

“I KNOW!” Ambrose barked. His own emotions thrown through a loop at the information.

A long, choking silence passed between them, though they were both thinking the same thing: that Villain can’t be Mentor.

~*~*~*~

Four blocks away a new Supervillain was making their mark in front of the Hero plaza. He was levitating off the ground, bits of debris from Mentor’s memorial statue circling around him like moons of Saturn.

Superhero tried not to think about how much this Supervillain reminded him of Mentor. He really tried not to think about it, but he couldn’t stop himself. The likeness was uncanny, and it was rare for two people with the same abilities to emerge in the same city. It happened but it was rare.

Telekinesis. And not just that, a mastery of his ability, how effortless the destruction seemed to him. An unwillingness to yield.

This must be Supervillain, and if it was Superhero was hesitant to engage. Which sounded terrible as the leader of the Heroes but, even leader’s get scared.

Supervillain was fighting four seasoned Heroes and Superhero all at once — not to mention Tides who was the only new recruit there — without breaking a sweat. Superhero had tried to call Kit, but no luck. Supervillain’s face was covered by a mask and he wore civilian clothes, as if this was a casual affair for him. Like he just walked off the streets and decided, why not cause some chaos? Sirens and emergency services rushed to the scene of people in need, people who had been hit by the debris.

Thankfully, it looked to be a small amount of casualties due to how late it was, but still. Something was wrong with the scene, and Superhero needed to find out what. If that Supervillain… was actually Mentor or not.

And if so, how? How was he here? Why had he escaped and turned out like this? What was going on?! A Supervillain? Threatening the city? That wasn’t Mentor’s way… unless this was Omen’s plan all along, to destroy the legacy of a great man. To make the great man a monster and destroy it himself.

Supervillain inclined his head at Superhero, raising his hand palm up and flexing his fingers goading Superhero into a fight. Superhero lunged for him, bouncing from one building towards Supervillain. When he was in mid-air, Supervillain made a wide sweeping gesture with his arm and a hurricane of rocks and concrete hurtled towards Superhero.

He dodged between the initial wave, but he didn’t expect the second. Mentor’s stone arm caught him around the waist and the pair went flying into a building.

While Superhero was distracted, Supervillain turned his attention to Tides. He aimed for the water under her feet keeping her in the air, wiping it away with a sweep of his arm. Tides cried out as she started to fall, but Supervillain caught her, keeping her suspended in mid-air.

Superhero recovered quickly, and went soaring again, taking the wind in his wings with a grin. It felt so good to let them out again. His eyes zeroed in on Supervillain, hoping he would realise Superhero was behind him too late and they could all go home and sleep in their beds tonight.

At the last second, right before Superhero made contact with Supervillain, Supervillain turned their head to Superhero. Superhero’s eyes widened but it was too late, they had committed to the movement, already in mid air. With a sweep of his hand, Supervillain sent Superhero back two blocks, tumbling onto a rooftop. His wings wrapped around him cushioning his fall as he rolled.

Supervillain turned back to Tides who was struggling in his hold and shot towards her. He grabbed her by the neck, and threw her down onto a roof behind her. Tides almost passed out from the impact, her entire body arching as breath was stolen from her lungs. Her body bounced off the concrete, like she was a rag-doll being thrown before rolling to a stop, gasping in air. Supervillain followed her with easy steps, before kicking her onto her back and standing above her. He pressed his foot down on her chest.

“Where’s Malyn?” Supervillain asked, tilting his head. Tides cried out as Supervillain’s foot gathered telekinesis behind it and forced her down into the concrete, cracking the roof around her. A small crater Tides shaped now etched on the rooftop.

“I won’t tell you,” Tides said through gritted teeth. The pressure increased and Tides screamed, her hands flying to Supervillain’s ankle and clawing at it, trying to get it to budge. Supervillain put his hands in his trouser pockets, as if this were a casual conversation, like he wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

“Tell me or I’ll break every bone in your body, Tides.”

Tides abandoned trying to dislodge Supervillain’s foot, and instead gathered a canon of water behind him. She splayed her fingers and the canon blasted towards Supervillain before losing momentum as Tides let out a blood-curling scream.

Her wrist snapped like a twig, leaving her arm useless as she tried to summon water. The pain was blinding, but Supervillain didn’t let up for a second, moving his foot idly from her chest to her broken wrist.

“Where,” Supervillain asked again, leaning forward so more of his weight pressed on Tides’ wrist. “Is Malyn?”

“I don’t know,” Tides cried out, her mind going blank as the pain burned through her, tears blinding her. “I don’t know! I don’t!”

“Hmm,” Supervillain hummed above her. “I don’t believe you.”

Tides screwed her eyes shut and looked away, not wanting to see the final blow coming. She wasn’t masochistic enough for that, quite happy to live in blissful ignorance.

Then the pressure was suddenly off her with a thump of body meeting body and Tides' eyes flew open. Supervillain was gone, and Tides took to sobbing. She glanced at her mangled wrist and felt bile climbing her throat. Every breath was an effort as she tried to sit up and failed, opting to just lay on the roof, motionless and cry.

Superhero shot like a bullet, barreling into the new Supervillain and flying away from the city to the local park instead where there would be far less casualties. Superhero threw Villain down to the ground with a terrifying force and floated down after him.

~*~*~*~

Ambrose kicked the car into reverse just as Kit saw two figures flying over the night sky. “Ambrose! We have to go after them! That’s Superhero!”

Ambrose hooked his arm over the passenger seat, turning to look back out the window as they reversed.

“Do I look like I care?” Ambrose asked, meeting Kit’s glare. “Genuine question, Mallory. Do I look like I give a shit what happens to the number one fuck up in the city? Cause if I do, I need to fix that.”

“This isn’t some joke! Stop the car. Let me out! Let me go, Ambrose.”

“No.”

“That could be Mentor!” Kit yelled after Ambrose turned front again and manoeuvred around the debris in the road. Kit huffed out a breath through his nose reaching for his seatbelt.

“Don’t touch your seatbelt if you know what’s good for you, Kit, I swear to God. I will knock you out again.”

Desperation rose in Kit’s stomach as Ambrose took a backstreet shortcut to get out of the city. Kit could only watch as they passed the park. Superhero was hovering over the trees, throwing a body down into the grass when Ambrose sped past.

~*~*~*~

Supervillain rolled until he gained ground beneath his fingertips and got to his feet two metres away from Superhero.

“Who are you?!” Superhero demanded, voice livid.

Supervillain tilted his head but said nothing. Superhero’s lip curled back into a snarl and he shot off again, leaving a small crater where his feet were. Flying wasn’t exactly a great superpower, but it was what Superhero had and he learned to use it to his advantage in fights.

He flew at Supervillain, drawing his fist back with a roar and aimed for Supervillain’s cheek. Supervillain lifted his forearm, diverting the blow. He punched Superhero in the gut, a jab, then an uppercut. Superhero dodged back, pushing off his heels as his hands outstretched going for Supervillain’s porcelain mask.

Supervillain ducked, swiping Superhero’s legs out from under him. Superhero dropped, his back barely hitting the ground before he launched himself towards Supervillain.

Supervillain moved with speed and grace, as if he’d been fighting all his life, and he didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat. Superhero, on the other hand, was tiring quickly, not used to the amount of power and focus he was using to try and land a hit on Supervillain.

Supervillain went to sweep his arm. Superhero caught it with a death grip, grinned and spun. Planting his left foot in the ground he pivoted and threw Supervillain as far as he could. Supervillain went flying backwards, getting caught in the leaves of a tree. The branches split and broke around him, a tear in the earth opening from where Supervillain had split the tree open to let himself down.

He wiped the leaves off his shoulders and Superhero grinned. Maybe he can be beaten. Superhero launched himself at Supervillain again, not giving him a chance to recover.

“Enough playtime.” Supervillain said.

Supervillain lifted a hand lazily and Superhero froze in mid-air, the air turned against him, freezing him in place. Superhero’s eyes widened. That’s not possible. There’s no way that he’s… that that’s Mentor, there’s…

Villain walked slowly towards Superhero, taking his sweet time about it. He stopped in front of Superhero, mask to face. “Don’t you recognise me, Superhero?”

Superhero flinched at the voice. It was disguised, which… no, there’s no way that was Mentor. Mentor was always transparent and never wore a mask. He wouldn’t.

But then again… that’s when Mentor was a hero, a symbol of peace and justice in the city.

Villain reached out and grabbed a fistful of Superhero’s hair, yanking his head back. Superhero grit his teeth but didn’t cry out. “Where’s Malyn?”

Superhero’s shock must have shown on his face. “What?”

Villain yanked their neck back farther and Superhero couldn’t contain the groan from the strain. “Malyn. I want him. Now. Where. Is. He?”

Superhero frowned. Surely Mentor would know where Kit lived? But then… no, he wouldn’t. Kit moved after Omen drove Mentor crazy.

“You won’t find him.” Superhero said, huffing a breath out through their nose. Supervillain hummed. He stepped back and clicked his fingers. Superhero’s body moved at an impossible speed, back snapping against the bark of a tree and Superhero cried out.

Supervillain didn’t stop. He was dragged back along the dirt by his ankle, as if being pulled by an invisible lasso. He blacked out from the blow, but his brain shot him back into consciousness as his back was dragged harshly over the terrain. Supervillain came into view again. Superhero’s body was forced up as if suspended from the air, hanging like a limp puppet.

“Malyn, Superhero. I don’t have the patience for this game of cat and mouse.”

“Why… why are you—” Superhero’s breath hitched as his body contorted against his will. “D-doing this?”

“I want the boy. If you don’t bring him to me in three days, I will destroy the rest of the city, and all of your pathetic heroes.”

Supervillain closed their hand into a fist and Superhero screamed. “Have him meet me at the Hero Academy, 10pm. Alone. Any funny business and I’ll make sure that Tides dies, do you understand?”

“T— Leave Tides alone! Take- take me!”

“Oh, I would,” Supervillain said, opening his fist again. Superhero fell to the ground, his head slapping off the dirt. Supervillain crouched down in front of him and with a gloved hand tilted Superhero’s chin up. “But you have the best chance of getting me what I want. The boy for Tides. Hero Academy. Three days. 10 O’clock, got it?”

Superhero let out a broken breath of air which Supervillain took to mean yes. Villain slapped Superhero’s cheek. “Good boy. At least you still know how to take orders.”

Villain disappeared after that, leaving Superhero shaking in the dirt.

~*~*~*~

Ambrose didn’t even bother to make Kit forget the way to his house. If he was honest, he was exhausted. This was not how tonight was supposed to go. They pulled up to Ambrose’s house, stopping in front of two giant gates. Ambrose pressed a button and the gates opened.

“What are you, Batman?” Kit asked as he took in the mansion they were driving into. Ambrose chuckled at the comment but didn’t reply. The gates closed behind them as they drove in. The driveway was long, like something out of a movie and had a fucking roundabout at the entrance to the house.

Ambrose opened the door and stepped out. He walked around to the passenger side and opened Kit’s door, pulling the seat forward. “You can get out now, child.”

“I’m not a child,” Kit grumbled, obeying the order.

“Yes, you are,” said Ambrose with a sigh. He slammed the door after Kit got out, locking the doors over his shoulder with a click of his keys and a flash of lights. “You don’t do anything without being told, and you push boundaries like a fucking toddler.”

“Yeah, your stupid enforced boundaries because you’re a fucking control freak, and everything has to go Ambrose’s way! Right?!”

Ambrose ignored him, unlocking the door to his house and holding it open from Kit to follow. Kit scoffed and walked inside.

“You know this whole silent brooding thing is really starting to piss me off!” Kit told him.

Ambrose shut the door and locked it. “Your irritation is duly noted. I’ll file it under I don’t give a fuck.”

Kit whirled on Ambrose again, about to tear him a new one but paused. Ambrose stood pinching the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, laboured sigh. Kit bit back his gripes.

“Tell you what,” Ambrose said eventually. His voice soft and so un-Ambrose like. Tired, Kit realised. It was as if all energy had been zapped from him after the drive, and maybe it was. Adrenaline had a habit of doing that to you. Ambrose took the key for the cuffs out of his pocket and tossed it. “You can sleep on all of the names you want to call me, and tell me over breakfast tomorrow.”

Kit caught the key, eyes wide with surprise as he unlocked the cuffs around his wrist. He glanced up at Ambrose, but Ambrose was already making for the stairs with tired movements. He lifted a hand without turning back to face Kit.

“Take whatever room you want. I honestly couldn’t care less.”

Kit stood shocked as he watched the villain ascend the staircase straight from the titanic to the second floor. Disbelief ebbed to his own wave of sleep that overtook him and he followed Ambrose up the stairs. He could think more tomorrow. Sleep would bring clarity. He could think logically in the morning.

Kit took the door closest to him and kicked off his shoes. He pulled his jacket off, unzipping his jeans, stepping out of them as he fell into— fuck this was probably the most comfortable bed he ever lay on.

That was his last thought before the blackness swallowed him, eyelids falling heavy over his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @stefaniesblogs @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

about behavior and Baz knowing his feelings vs Simon not knowing

Another way in which these books challenge expectations is that you see a character fully aware of his feelings for someone and expect them to act a certain way (tumblr has shown me incorrect quotes and other jokes and similar formats and I just want to put emphasis on incorrect).

I think a key thing is that Baz knows how he feels about Simon but gives nothing away, while Simon doesn’t know how he feels about Baz but he gives everything away anyway. Baz has restraint. Simon has none. This connects to how Baz is someone who tells you things while Simon shows you without telling you…

Way before Baz shows up, Simon’s POV clearly paints the picture of an obsession (in a “this is gay behavior” type of way). He has the type of obsession associated with romantic love – he just doesn’t know it yet. Before Baz shows up, Simon is already showing (but not telling) that he’s in love. When Baz shows up, he cuts through the chase and simply tells you he’s in love… In terms of words and verbal communication, Baz is clear in ways Simon might not be. But in terms of behavior? It is Simon, and not Baz, who is actually more obvious about his feelings. I think this is part of why awtwb has Simon (and not Baz) looking back to highlight his behavior as an obvious indicator of his feelings for Baz, as if Baz should have known. “I’m whatever I was when I was following you everywhere,” “you can’t be trusted to tell when people are into you because you couldn’t tell I was into you (no vibe-check)” I’m not saying Baz should have known shit, it’s understandable that he didn’t. But looking from the outside, it is far easier to point out Simon’s gay behavior because Baz has restraint Simon doesn't and he wants to hide himself. I mean, Simon is the one going to Baz to get his attention as soon as he shows up. Simon is the one going to every football practice to watch Baz play, and making sure he can listen to him practice with his violin – nothing Baz does is as obvious as this.

As an outsider, you could mistakenly believe that perhaps Baz is just a troublemaker, that he just wants to be antagonistic, and the closest he gets to giving something away (his jealousy) that’s quickly explained away heterosexually (and even if as an outsider you don’t believe he’s interested in her, you could still think he’s trying to be antagonistic by getting under Simon’s skin, what with him only doing shit when Simon is around). Even after kissing him, Simon still doesn’t contemplate that Baz likes him (although this also packs another set of issues).

I often joke (in an “I’m saying this as a joke but I’m dead serious” type of way) that when Simon is giving you a list (which is not long, mind you) of everything Baz has done to him to “prove” he’s A Villain, it looks like “every time Baz paid special attention to me: the greatest hits.” As much as Simon bitches about Baz’s plotting, it seems to me that outside of those moments, Baz actually just… tended to mind his business? That the mentioned list is as short as it is (even if it doesn’t include everything) because, in general, Baz didn’t have to do anything to get Simon’s attention, because he didn’t have to. Simon was on him practically the whole time. Something was bothering Baz whenever he acted up – if I remember correctly he mentions liking Simon’s attention whenever they fought before vs hating fighting when they are together – but in general, it seems to me that Baz didn’t have to do anything for Simon’s attention, because he had it all the time, to the point it began to suffocate him. Simon was taking the initiative perhaps in the same way he goes on to take it when he’s the one kissing Baz, asking to be boyfriends, and generally jumping him (desire).

It’s also important to highlight that, contrary to what someone who is going by assumptions might think, it’s not that Baz saw Simon a certain way (sparkles and floating flowers and shit) because he knows he’s in love, while Simon sees Baz in a certain way (unappealingly) because he’s seeing him as an evil little gremlin or some shit. Simon never really sees Baz as unappealing or ugly “because he’s evil.” Even when he’s brainwashing himself into roles (“Baz would be perfect if he wasn’t a vampire” – unpacking this should a different post) Simon still gives away that he’s attracted to him, that Baz is fit as fuck, that Baz being himself is enough to make him romantically desirable (because he’s in love). “He’s a creep” he thinks, while sulking because Baz doesn’t pay him attention while getting date vibes. “He always creeps me out and I totally mean it…. but I never can sleep well if he’s not in the same room as me... if I can’t listen to the sound of him breathing close to me...” I mean… c'mon. At the height of his brainwashed delusion (or however you want to call it, Simon already has an image of Baz as “anyone would want him,” way before he goes on to say that explicitly.

Also, as much as he might fantasize, it's not Baz who’s all “we should just kiss instead of fighting” because he’s aware he’s in love. It’s Simon. Simon is the one who’s all “We should never fight again and just roll around on the floor kissing” the second he gets even an inkling that he wants Baz. I saw a joke in that incorrect quote format that was like “Baz asks for a kiss” and “Simon says he wants him to die but we can’t always get what we want” or some shit and I can’t think of anything that’s farther from “capturing their vibes” or whatever. When Simon is combative he couldn’t be further from catching any vibe whatsoever, either from Baz or from himself, outside of the whole “hero vs nemesis” deal. Simon is the one who is all over Baz looking for a kiss with practically nothing, while Baz tries to act like Simon suddenly has brain damage because he just wants to kiss and be boyfriends. I mean, Baz’s thing is that he struggles with asking for what he wants – he’s too used to hiding himself (he doesn’t succeed in hiding his vampirism from Simon, but he very much succeeds in hiding his romantic feelings for him – Simon kisses him because he wants to kiss him, not because he’s figured out Baz wants him, even if Baz is giving "kiss me" vibes in that moment). Simon notes whenever they argue he just has to lean in and Baz would close his eyes, waiting to be kissed. It’s clear for us that Baz wants it badly because we have access to his thoughts, but this might be the beginning of Baz starting to give away that he does: after Simon has already made it clear that he wants Baz back.

[unhingedpolycule]

Pookies your works are amazing honestly. But how would the boys drink their alcohol. Tell me i need your thoughts right neow.

OHHHHHH I have thoughts! Nikto and Krueger are going hard! I will answer this for my general headcanons! NSFW for drug use / sexual content under the cut

Krueger: A social drinker but in the “what is even the point if you cant use your inebriated state to act more drunk than you are and fuck with people” kind of way. He is either borderline sober or REALLY drunk on purpose. He prefers vodka, due to being socialised in a Russian friend group in his teens/early 20s. He really likes Russia and everything associated with it (especially the men and the language!) but he will drink pretty much everything and isn’t too good to drink directly from the bottle. But he will probably consume everything with high amounts of alcohol in it. Not a longdrink/cocktail type of person. Prefers shots and many of them, due to his high tolerance. Probably unironically likes Absynthe. Drinks the last swig of beer from others with a grin just to provoke the group he spends the evening with in order to disgust them. (The last swig is said to be pure spit in Germany/Austria) It simply amuses him and it’s also a way of (very disgusting) flirting. It works with Nikto, who gets jealous if Krueger does it with someone else’s bottle and horny if it’s his own. It’s his luck then, that Krueger can very much fuck while drunk. (One of his many sexual talents!)

Nikto: He doesn’t drink, because it interferes with his meds and it’s simply not worth it to him. That being said, he is into chemsex. Big time. If he has a few days to acclimate afterwards, he will let Krueger give him a dose of whatever his Austrian seems fit. I adopted cerosin-bis headcanon of Nikto being a bit of a coke head back in the days of his undercover work and he still really likes it, as it makes him both euphoric and horny. They will absolutely fuck while high off their asses. It’s nothing that happens often and most certainly something that reqires days work of aftercare on Krueger’s part, because sometimes the drugs leave Nikto pretty shaken (also due to his regular medication). He promises that this is the last time, just to start pushing and grunting in that special way again after a few weeks/months. He likes to bottom when they do it but he swears that it’s a lie whenever Krueger brings it up while sober. If the others drink, he either has water or an alcohol-free beer. He doesn’t really like that he has to resort back to it, but it’s better than nothing.

Bonus Nikodim, because I love him:

Nikodim: A ✨social drinker✨. Likes beer, but also has a secret sweet tooth (Krueger brought him a bottle of Berentzen Cherry once and he really liked it. Nikodim is prone to sharing his drinks and trying everything. He is very vocal if he dislikes something, but it’s in a jovial fashion. He is a happy drunk, it boosts his self confidence and he likes joking around. It makes him more prone to bad decision and he was probably drunk the first time he messed around with Nikto, even if not overly so. Even if he has grown out of his teenage “I need to get blackout drunk” phase, he likes being tipsy, which makes it even easier for Krueger to manipulate and tease him. In the end, Nikto usually puts an end to it and sends Nikodim back home (more often, he accompanies him. You know. Because he is such a good guy. And because… well Nikodim is in a good mood so he might just be prone to make another bad decision tonight!)

Pookie, I love answering asks so thank you for giving me space to ramble! This was a fun one! (That being said, I do not drink, I am the perpetual driver :) So my hc are informed by cultural osmosis! I prefer aesthetic grape juice to wine on a nice evening so… there you have a general idea of how “wild” I am :D)

[kaeyx]

pm boss chuuya purposely tying the chains around your ankles that smallest bit too tight to the point they leave indents and cut off blood flow, you cant ever walk for at least half an hour while you regain feeling in your feet, so usually your 15 minute 'freedom' sessions consist of you desperately trying to crawl to an open window, an unlocked door, anything. he enjoys watching you try too.

whenever you're done trying and simply lay down and cry about your fate for a while, he makes sure to drag you back and tie you back up nicely, sitting you on his lap so he can finish off his paperwork. he keeps little needles at the ready whenever you squirm too much, maybe to inject you with a drug that'll make you perfectly pliant for him for a while.

he finds enjoyment when you're drugged out to simply sit you under his lap and force his cock into your mouth. he knows you don't have the energy to move or even try to suck, but the warmth of it resting on your tongue is more then enough for now until he decides to use your throat.

he does full-bodied checks on you sometimes, making sure you're not keeping anything that can aid you in escaping or to kill him. just while he works on mindfucking you beyond repair. whilst he's doing so, he notices your scars are fading again. no harm in making some more, might as well sign them off with his full name too.

hes so joyful when you finally get to a stage you're so broken you can't decipher if what he's doing is right or wrong. the tender kisses on the stab wounds he caused that once upon a time you tried to fight back, the gentle caress on the bruises of the chains he kept you in. everything's fuzzy and you can only see everything he does as positive. he can get away with anything if he wanted.

🌱

You're going to make me lightheaded holy shit. Chuuya who bolts manacles closed around your ankles and wrists, maybe even your neck, threatening to weld them shut if you keep being difficult. Locking them shut after that to make extra sure that no matter how you struggle you'll only hurt yourself, rubbing your skin raw. When he lets you loose to stretch your legs you can barely walk, muscles cramped and ankles aching from the cold metal digging into your skin at all hours of the day and night. Chuuya promises to patch you up if you just come to his side instead of banging on the door and window trying to escape! But you never do, so after 15 minutes he pins you with his gravity and locks you back up, giving your cheek a soft kiss.

He washes you carefully every day, drugging you if you thrash around too much. He might even unlock you after drugging you because it's just easier to carry your limp body to the tub and do it there. He strips you naked, not that you're allowed any clothes other than his old shirts anyway, and touches you so gently while he massages the soap into your skin and kisses your hands, cooing at you and telling you how cute you look all helpless like this. He tells you he loves you so much, and he'll keep you safe and owned forever, and you'll never have to worry your pretty little head about anything ever again.

On days when you're silent and compliant, doing what he tells you to because you're simply exhausted, he treats you like royalty. Holds and kisses you, gets you a nice gift, cooks anything you want and even spoon feeds it to you. But whenever you try to fight back he tightens your chains and slaps you, carves his name into you so you never forget who owns you, threatens to cut your arms off if you keep trying to push him away. Eventually Chuuya knows it'll end up conditioning you, training you like a dog with food and rewards and keeping you drugged out of your mind. Until you'll subconsciously want to do anything he asks of you because your brain associates obedience with good things.

[i-write-things]

Hey Pen, hope things are going good for you. An idea struck me today. Yan!Chrollo (not so sure about the regular one but, who knows, maybe it works) Takes darling to meet the Troupe and maybe get along with them and all that, they're his group after all. (and since darling's been confined and only seeing him, so it got tiresome/boring - for the darling, that is) BUT darling ends up falling in love with one of the members instead. Sounds like a recipe for disaster. What do you think? Sorry if it doesn't make sense or it's weirdly worded.

Oh, this...this would break my man's dead heart.

Chrollo is very patient. Yandere or not. It takes quite a bit to truly upset him. But this? Yes...this does it.

If it where anyone else, perhaps a friend of yours, a stranger, ect., then it's no problem for Yan!Chrollo. He'll just make sure you don't love them. For example, he'll spread false information about them that will make you hate them. Or, y'know, he could just kill them. A classic choice.

But a troupe member? He feels betrayed in two different ways. More so from you. He knows he shouldn't feel that way, because his darling hasn't fallen for him yet. And he especially knows he shouldn't feel that way towards his troupe member. It's not their fault, after all. Plus, he's quite confident that his members would never dare to try to steal you from him. But that doesn't take away from the fact he is upset.

Taking you to meet the troupe was supposed to be a nice thing for you. You've been cooped up in whatever place he has been keeping you in. So he decided to take you out somewhere to interact with others. He knows very well that humans are social creatures. So not only would it do you some good to interact with other humans other than him, but it would also serve another purpose. Anything you tell them, they tell him.

So you can imagine he doesn't care all that much when you first start requesting to go along with him when he sees the troupe. He thinks maybe you just want to interact with other humans, he understands. He also is pretty relieved. This could not only mean that they would tell him more about you, but it's also a good sign you're going to come around soon and maybe return his love.

However, what he isn't slow to notice, is how you spend most of your time with one member in particular. And while at first, that's just who he assumes you get along with best, he very quickly realizes otherwise. The way they make you smile much easier than he does, despite being 10x more charismatic. The way you tend to stand closer to them when talking to them, as opposed to how close in proximity you stand to him while talking.

The next time he mentions going to see his troupe, he denies your request to go along with him. If you keep pushing, he will eventually respond with "Why? So you can speak to your crush, [troupe member]?" Yes, he does call you out like that.

If you deny it, he just chuckles in a similar fashion to when he chuckled right before he revealed to Hisoka he couldn't use nen anymore. He then goes on to tell you about everything he notices about your behavior around them that points to having a crush. If you just act shocked, but never deny it, he just leaves about his business. Until you ask a question that makes him slowly turn around.

-"Why?" -"Why? Why won't I let you see them? Well, simply put, I find it unfair how I put all my patience towards you. How I care about you and think about you constantly, yet you fall for a person who would have likely killed you had they not known your association with me." Yes, he goes for a low blow like that. Of course he does, he wants you to forget all about them, and love him instead.

After that, he just leaves. He leaves you alone for quite a bit, actually. He wants you to reflect on what he said. Can't you see? They wouldn't care about you even a fraction of what he cares about you! They wouldn't keep you company, give you constant attention, give you gifts, and do all the things he does.

You've gone from having a least a little human interaction, coming from him, to none for a solid couple of days. While he spends this time away, he just thinks a lot about what it is you like about said member and not him? He would change a couple of things about him to be more similar to them, but at the same time, he wants you to fall for him, not them.

You're not the only one to hurt from being alone for so long. Chrollo is also missing you deeply. Don't worry, as he comes back, he has a gift for you that he stole got for you. Then he'll continue to give you some extra attention. Hopefully your time away from everyone have you enough time to think about how lucky you are to be with him.

Oh, and as for the troupe member, he doesn't say anything to them about it. After all, it's not their fault. And if they ask why he stopped bringing them, he straight up tells them, "Hm...They needed some time to themself, that's all."

...He trusts them, but it doesn't take away from they fact they still worried about you.

[immajustvibehere]

Hello!!! Love your writing!!!

I have a mixture of really random requests? Arthur Morgan and the female reader are running away from police after they robbed someone and as they run away, the reader’s corset starts loosening. Arthur doesn’t know but grabs the reader to hide into an alley and there he notices. Just as he’s about to fix it (shy and stuttering ofc) the police comes running so Arthur grabs her and starts kissing her, taking advantage of the loose corset to make it seem like they’re on the verge of doing it…they then confess their feelings? Thank you so much!!!

First Kisses

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

oneshot: fluff, suggestive

warnings: Arthur being rough but also a soft boi??

summary: Robbing rich folk in Saint Denis takes an unexpected turn, when Arthur and you are running from the law and in order to blend in, Arthur decides to kiss you - not knowing he had taken your first kiss. After finding out about it he hopes for a chance to redeem himself.

Thank you very much for the request! Loved the idea. And big shoutout to @little-honeypie who supplied the backbone for this fic and simply made me write it out longer lmao

2400 words, 12 minutes reading time

You weren't used to being all dressed up like that. The ride to town had been uncomfortable, the corset was too tight, the shoes too high and the unusual amount of make-up on your face had you anxious of everything that could smear it and uncover that you were indeed not a fine lady. Arthur looked amazing in his suit, and he seemed to have no struggles whatsoever. Your misery started to disappear when you found out how easy your outfit made it to rob rich people in Saint Denis. Arthur and you operated separately, doing your best to avoid being associated with another. Men let down their guards way easier when they thought you were alone and possibly looking for an interesting night…or a husband. It depended very much on the kind of man you approached.  

You were about to fish a golden watch out of a gentleman's pocket when he grabbed your wrist. "Not so quick you thief", he hissed. Before you even realized what was going on, Arthur was by your side, delivering a nose breaking punch to the man's face. You both had agreed beforehand: If your cover was blown, it was game over. In Saint Denis you couldn't afford to hang around when you gave even the smallest hint of being a criminal. Being detained for only as much as minute, you'd find yourself in prison ten minutes later.

"C'mon now!", Arthur rushed you out of the saloon. You slipped out of your shoes intentionally. It was disgusting running barefoot through the streets of Saint Denis, but it would be worse breaking an ankle or getting caught. The whistles of the police, the shouts and yells were somewhere behind you, you didn't stop to check. You just followed Arthur's lead until you were in the worse parts of Saint Denis, near the port. You had left the horses somewhere else, thinking that two heavily armed and dirty horses wouldn't do you a big favor in maintaining the appearance.

"Shit, Arthur! My corset-", you cursed. It had gotten loose or something, you weren't sure. Arthur just grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into an alley. Both of you were panting for air. "Should I- erm?", the man looked a bit helplessly at all the strings and cords. He might have known how to tighten a corset years ago. He sure hadn't done it recently. While Arthur was fumbling around, all flustered and confused, you heard the police whistles again.

Arthur's eyes met yours, his gaze changing to a focused stare that made his brow furrow. "Thought we had shaken 'em!?", you panicked. They were close, you heard their shouts. You were looking for an escape route, while Arthur got out of his jacket, throwing it in the dirt. With a low and hasty "Play along!" he had your attention again. You saw him ruffle his hair. You were confused - but you loved it. The slicked back hair hadn't done him any good, you were a secret admirer of his messy hair after a ride or bar fight. Steps were coming closer, and you were about to complain of the lack of a plan when Arthur grabbed you by the shoulders and roughly shoved you against the wall. You opened your mouth for questions, but his lips were on yours before you could make a sound.

He lifted you up, one free arm was enough for him to grab your thigh, forcing your legs around his waist. His other hand pulled your hair, getting rid of your nicely done hairdo that Mary-Beth had spent an hour on to make it convincing. Arthur earned a squeal for the rough handling, muffled against his lips that were still eating you up. You felt his tongue against yours, felt his teeth carefully biting your lips. For the stake of some stability, your hands had finally found his shoulders, when Arthur's lips suddenly parted from yours. He moved away so swiftly, you dropped, lucky to not stumble to the ground completely. Your knees had turned to mush. You still felt Arthur's warm hand on your thigh, though he was long gone, peeking around the corner.

"Street's clear, come on!", Arthur didn't even look back to you before he walked off, dedicated to find your horses. You stood there in shock. Your dress was all over the place, your hair hanging into your eyes. You felt the heat on your face, but you knew there wasn't time to ponder about all that now. With a swift move you picked up Arthur's jacket he'd left in the dirt, throwing it over your shoulders to cover some of the skin that had been exposed and ran after him.

The ride back to camp was silent. Your thoughts however were not. What had just happened? How had Arthur come up with this plan so spontaneously? How had he known it'd work? Hadn’t climbing over the fence and running off been a safer option? Had it been ... good? Had you been too sloppy? Too stiff? What areas had Arthur's hands touched?

Back in camp, with the sun setting and bottles being opened, only a few people took interest in your return, though some concluded that it had been a messy escape due to your appearances. You washed your feet in the lake and changed into your normal clothes, before you went to the girls to fill them in on the story. Arthur sat down in his tent with Hosea. Together, they went through the valuables, trying to decide what to take to which fence to bargain a good price.

Hours passed, Arthur was still sitting in his tent with Hosea, though the estimation of value of gold watches and rings had long been exhausted. They indulged in reminiscences, Arthur had also changed back to his riding boots and working pants, leisurely smoking a cigarette. "What's that about?", Hosea paused in his retelling of an old memory when he saw Karen approaching, weaving with a beer bottle in hand and seemingly agitated. Arthur murmurs a curios "Don't know" before Karen had found her destination and delivered a slap that had missed Arthur's cheek and smacked on Arthur's neck instead. "What was that for?!", he immediately shouted and grabbed Karen's wrist, her arm already lunging out for another, better aimed strike.

"Yeeeeeew are a bastard, Mister Morgan! Goin' round all day thinkin' ye are all handsome and think ya can just-", Karen slurs. She lost her strain of thought before she hiccupped once and continued: "We do not care...not caaaaare at all what'cha doing wandering about. Yewww can play your weird games but yew better stay away from fuckin...Y/N?" It made a click in Arthur's mind; he had finally connected the dots and knew what this was about. He had been close to losing patience, but now he took a deep breath to explain himself, but Karen continued with something that made Arthur shrink in his seat.

"Yer a horrible maaaan. Sssszstealin' 'er first kiss like that! Why didn't yew jus' shoot the damn law like yew allllllllwayss do!", Karen finished. Arthur's grip around her wrist had loosened, which Karen used to break free before she stumbled off. While Arthur's trying to process what just happened, Hosea chuckled silently: "You forgot to tell me this part, I assume?" Hosea only got a quick glance from Arthur, before he stood up with a low "God damn" and "Excuse me". With heavy steps Arthur approached the jetty, in need for some quiet moments to think.

Arthur felt like a wreck. Of course you would tell the girls what had happened, he knew this wouldn't be something that slips and gets forgotten. He had taken your first kiss. He hadn’t known it would be your first, but neither had he asked. How could he had been so stupid?! So indecent. Arthur felt disgusting. Though he had imagined how it would be to kiss you countless times by now, he regretted having acted on it. You deserved a better man than him, dirty outlaw and degenerate that he was. Someone handsome, someone younger and well, someone you actually liked. Arthur beat himself up for every little detail. Everything he remembered from earlier was a hot memory, it burned him and made him cringe. He hadn't asked for consent. He hadn't been nice or gentle. The places his hands had touched - he blushed at the thought, out of embarrassment and rage. He hadn't even paused after the kiss to look at you. Had you been fine? Had he hurt you? He didn't know!!! He had been in a rush...he had been aroused too much to admit, too much to look back to you and apologize. Arthur couldn't help but to be somewhat disgusted in himself.

You had watched Karen deliver the news. You had tried to stop her, but it had been no use. Now you had been watching Arthur for solid ten minutes, how he paced around on the jetty, every now and then pinching the bridge of his nose. There was no doubt that Karen might have...not really come across the way you would have liked. You felt bad for Arthur, seeing how he beat himself up for it. At the same moment you approached him, Arthur had turned around with the intent to find you and apologize deeply for what had happened. It caught him off guard, seeing you walk towards him. And with a smile on your lips.

"Y/N...", Arthur says, his voice sad. He didn't even give you a second to tell him something, he just started apologizing. Arthur tripped over his words, desperately trying to find the right ones. You almost stopped listening at some point, when he started calling himself names and degrading himself in ways that made you shiver. How can someone have such low self-esteem? You wanted to interrupt him, but he just staggered on. "And- And I know I shouldn't 've done it! I mean, I care about ya really a lot and I can't have ya think so bad of me 'cause...ya know I jus' really like ya but I shouldn't have taken yer first kiss. I understand if yer mad at me and-" "ARTHUR!", you finally yelled. You had called his name about half a dozen times before you yelled it. "Damn, I can't push you against a wall to make you shut up so would you please just listen!"

Arthur looked at you surprised and... confused. His cheeks just as red as yours. "I'm not mad at you", you smiled, "It was good kiss, alright?" You giggled as you watched Arthur's ears turn red. You pointed towards the end of the jetty, walking with Arthur and taking a seat there. "I was just really surprised. But I've-...I've been waiting for that kiss a long time now", you finally admitted. Arthur looked at you somehow disturbed, searching for the trap, the catch. “But not a kiss from me!", he continued rambling bullshit. "Of course a kiss from you! And I'd appreciate you'd stop calling yourself old and ugly because you make my taste in men seem really stupid!", you giggled.

Arthur's mind was working like a machine. The memories that had been painful five minutes ago felt completely different now. Stuff that had been bothering him the whole ride back to camp, how soft your lips were, how warm your thigh when he squeezed it, the sound you made when he pulled your hair were wonderful yet again.

"If you're really unsatisfied though...I will offer you a second chance. To make it up, you know", you offered, a cheeky smile on your lips.

"Ya sure?", Arthur asked. He wouldn't mess up again, given the chance.

"Yes."

"Really?", he wanted to be entirely sure.

"Yes, Arthur", you repeated. You knew he needed to hear it, but something in you would prefer him to press you against a wall and just take you without all the careful asking. But who were you to talk? You struggled to keep eye contact, knowing what would follow made your heart jump around in your chest like crazy. You concluded that being warned didn't make it any better, the excitement had you on edge for what felt an eternity, before Arthur finally cupped your face with his hand and pressed the gentlest kiss on your lips. A short one, a light one. The fear of that having been it started to take over, but Arthur had just tested, had just made sure if you didn't want to back out. But when he stayed close, your hitched breaths intermingling, it was you who closed the gap again, and Arthur knew that he was in the clear.

The kiss was slow and thoughtful, maybe that's why thoughts started to creep up in you. Were you any good in kissing? Is Arthur even enjoying himself? But after a while you simply stopped worrying, because every time Arthur moved away ever so slightly, so that both of you would have a moment to take a breath, he'd come back in, kissing you again and again until the longer kisses had turned into small pecks that had you giggling. Finally, you had to push him away, his beard too ticklish on your sensitive skin and your giggles slowly becoming laughs that you desperately tried to keep as quiet as possible, so you wouldn't attract attention.

You saw a satisfied smile on Arthur's face. He was more than relieved. With you being happy and still giggling away, he could easily enjoy a moment that was very beautiful, though somewhat less natural than the scene in Saint Denis. Maybe because kissing someone to avoid the law was something more natural to him as the outlaw that he was. It had been a while since he had kissed someone. An even longer while that he had someone squirming and smiling from his touch. He'd get used to it, he hoped. It made him feel young again.

Arthur suddenly noticed that you had gone silent again, staring at the lake pensively. His heart skipped a beat, anxiety immediately rising again that he'd done something wrong.

"Everythin' alright, darling?", he asked.

You licked your lips and shook your head: "No Arthur. This won’t do." You looked at him, his eyes worriedly looking back. "I think we'll have to do that again", you stated, the cheekiest smile slowly forming from ear to ear. Arthur growled. He loved and hated what you did to him. With a quick look back he made sure that nobody like Sean or Karen had sneaked up on you to pry, before he pulled you closer, going for a third first kiss.

------x

Who are we kidding; the detailed request and @little-honeypie 's notes, dunno if I did anything tbh

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 7

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: This is it. The warehouse and beyond. The end.

Chapter Warnings: I’ll be real honest, I don’t really want to give anything away here. There’s gonna be some more sex if that interests you. (It’ll be outdoors. What?)

Word Count: 5K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: If you’ve followed the playlist, you should know what’s new.

A/N: Super grateful shoutout to @dadralt​ for helping me with a few French translations. I put the English at the bottom.

A/N 2: I really really appreciate everyone who has read and commented/reblogged this story. I had ideas when I started and those took on a life of their own. I got stuck a little on the way, but I think I figured it out and I hope you like the wrap up. 

Francesca

It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. While August was busy looking into his associates to root out a mole, I had made myself available for anything, anytime, no questions asked when he got back from Asia. That also meant ignoring Sy and making sure any information he received came through the agency and the agency only. One incredible night in the arms of the man I had once thought would be the only one I’d ever love. That’s all the sanity I had to hold onto.

As I found myself continuing to slip deeper under August’s spell, I also relished the memory of Sy’s arms wrapped around me, holding me close and safe. On my own, I was reckless and wanton. I’m sure it’s what drew Sy, and most men to me originally. But while most men gave up trying to handle the edge after a while, Sy had always somehow found a way to smooth it out. And that edge only grew sharper the longer I was away from him. It drove men crazy when they couldn’t hold on, most opting to let go rather than risk the deep cuts. 

Walter had understood what it took to dull the blade, because he needed a soother too. So while he came to understand he couldn’t offer me respite in his arms, he was there to try to ease every ache I came away with after losing out on love time and again. I envied him for the way he had been able to take each ending as a sign for a new beginning and hold on waiting for what he really needed. I think he could see the damage each heartbreak was doing to me, could tell that the longer I went without a net, the easier it was to embrace fire and danger with no regard for myself. But I don’t think he realized how deep down that hole I was falling. He thought it was just part of the game we played. Instead, this is how I let August in against all my better judgements.

August didn’t fear my sharp edge. He honed it. And until Sy reappeared, I struggled to make sense of why it felt so good to have August keep pushing me, why every time I saw him it felt like I was being forged in his fire. In the haze of the smoke we created together, fueled by drugs and sex and more passion than I’d known in ages, I let myself begin to believe there was a way through that didn’t involve putting him behind bars. Like a fool, I continued to gently broach the subject of just leaving everything behind. I no longer knew if it was still the smokescreen I meant it to be.

I kept Walter appraised, but there had been no new developments from what I had seen. No new security breaches initiated by any number of August’s club girls. No more state secrets passing his way. August apparently had everything he thought he needed to make his next move and he was just looking for the right time. I simply had to wait until Will had the data stripped off the club’s computers and was ready to hand it off. I had been unsuccessful in my previous searches, but Will was a masterful hacker. I just needed the call, but it never came and walking into the warehouse I knew why.

August had figured out Will was CIA. And now I had to hope Will had been able to keep our secret even after everything it was apparent August’s goons had done to him. I couldn’t tell for sure how long he’d been here, but some of the wounds were fresh enough to tell me that while August had been fucking my brains out this afternoon, Will was getting the shit beat out of him. And I hoped his training was just as good as mine and he’d been able to withstand the obvious torture I could see he’d been put through. This was never how this mission was supposed to go.

While August continued to share his credo about not letting anyone hurt him, I rubbed my thumb over the microchip I had pressed against my forefinger. I knew I had what we needed and there was no reason to keep playing this game that had stopped feeling like a game weeks ago. I wanted to rise to my feet, lean in close and whisper to August that we could still run. That I could hide him and maybe we’d be apart for a little while, but in the end I’d be his and he’d be mine and we would be together.

And then I heard the words coming out of his mouth and I knew suddenly how utterly fucked I was. I was about to ruin what was probably the biggest bust of Sy’s life and I was about to end August’s reign. Sy would never forgive me for lying to him and August wouldn’t be around to put me in my place. I’d end up with neither of them. 

Like a specter, the voice drifted through my thoughts.

“We’re in position.”

“Take him.” I fought to keep my eyes open. I would not turn away from this mess I had made.

August had barely stopped speaking, head at tilt and eyebrow raised in query at my words when the bullet hit. I watched him fall and barely registered the second round that took Mateo out. I couldn’t really stop the tears if I wanted to. Everything was in shambles around me. Not only was my partner hanging on by a thread, the man I had come to love in some sort of fucked up fantasy where I believed I could save him was dead.

And I had to somehow explain to Sy why I had let him believe he was ever going to have a shot at taking down August.

I heard sirens and shouts from outside the warehouse. Flashing lights flickered through the doorway each time a new body entered the space. Medics were on the scene and Will was getting the attention he needed when Walter found me sunk to the ground on my knees, resisting the urge to crawl to August and take him in my arms one last time. Doubt crept in, as if I’d made the wrong choice and it took everything I had not to let the bile rise up in my throat.

Walter wrapped an official jacket around me and asked if I was alright. I shook my head slowly and I felt him hold me closer. He knew what was coming. I don’t know how he knew. He never once asked if I was falling for August, but somehow he could tell and he knew what I had just done. He knew I would be in my head about this one for a good long time. Longer than any of the others.

“We just need to finalize the report and record your statement. We can do a video now and then you can go. Okay?” 

I felt his concerned gaze on me and mustered the strength to nod at his question, still amazed how he looked after me after all these years. We were never going to be together, but that didn’t stop us from caring about and wanting only the best for each other.

We set up in a corner of the warehouse, away from the noise of the agents processing the scene. Before he turned the camera on, I dislodged the molar mic I had installed before leaving the hotel earlier and handed it over. I had already sent in encrypted typed reports and the final video interview was just a recount of the last few days that I hadn’t been able to upload yet. I signed every affidavit he put in front of me, half numb with shock. He put me in the cab to the train station with a gentle press of his hand on the small of my back as he bent to whisper in my ear.

“I’ll get him a message along with the rest of the Miami files. He won’t be hung out to dry. He’ll have everything he needs to make the case against the rest of August’s associates. And he’ll know you're on your way to being okay, too.” 

When I looked up at him, I could tell he saw my gratitude, even if I didn’t yet know how to voice it. Even if I still doubted every decision I’d made so far.

“Will?” I managed to whisper.

“Will’s gonna be fine. He has more than a little R&R coming, too. Don’t worry.”

We said a final goodbye and I headed off, ready to try to put this all behind me, starting with a deep detox. I spent weeks in the remote cabin, fully stocked with everything I needed to avoid everyone for as long as I wanted, including a method of emergency contact if things got really bad.

I rocked myself to sleep every night only to enter dreams that turned to nightmares. August leading me down a floral path, only to turn a corner and find myself ensnared in briars and brambles. August preparing a delicious meal only to serve me Will’s head on a platter. August making me come, over and over again, only to find myself ripped apart at the seams. 

I dragged myself out of bed every morning, no matter how badly I wanted to curl up in the sheets and just die. I journaled every day and raged at the papers that held my lovelorn tears, my foolish fantasies and ridiculous notions. At night, I burned them in a fire meant to keep me warm, but every bit of me felt cold and lifeless. I took long swims in the crystalline lake and long walks in the woods and prayed that maybe I’d twist an ankle and fall down the mountainside. I longed to be lost and rid of the torture I felt forever.

I could tell my storm was easing when I awoke one morning with the recollection of August morphing into Sy. When the drugs were finally fully out of my system, I sat quietly by the placid water and put all my pieces back in place. August Walker was a drug kingpin who had put an insane amount of product on the street. August Walker was a murderer, who had put his competition out of business permanently. August Walker was a traitor who had bribed politicians and military brass for national secrets that he planned to sell to the highest bidder. August Walker was a monster.

No amount of fucking was ever going to change those facts.

I pushed the button on the SAT phone and waited for Walter to answer while I practiced the speech over and over in my head.

Syverson

Syverson turned off the ignition of the rental car, peered at the number on the house and checked it against the message from Ramos on his phone. He stepped out and made his way up the narrow path to the front door, gravel crunching under his feet. He stood still at the door and paused before knocking, suddenly unsure if he’d made the right decision. 

“Ah, fuck it,” he muttered and raised his hand to rap on the wood. In the moments of stillness as he waited for a sound from inside, a shuffle of feet, any tell-tale sign that someone would answer, he took several deep breaths and tried to calm his nerves. It would be the first time seeing her again after months with no communication and he hadn’t exactly been invited by the occupants of the house.

“Comment puis-je vous aider?*” the elderly man asked, peering out the entryway with a perplexed look as if trying to recall who might be scheduled to visit today.

“Mr. Malloy? It’s Dean Syverson, from the States. I’m sorry I don’t speak French. I’m friends with your daughter, Frankie, er Francesca. I was told she was here.”

“Papa, c'est qui?**” a voice called from down the hall and Syverson’s heart almost exploded with elation. He took note of the waver in her voice as she appeared next to her father looking radiant in her summer dress and spoke again. “Sy? What are you…?” 

Sy wanted her to burst through the door and wrap her whole body around him so he could slip his arms around her back and hold her close to breath her in. In reality, she froze in place next to her father, though he didn’t imagine the way he saw her stop herself from reaching for him. At the sound of throat clearing, Frankie turned to her father to speak.

“Papa, tu te rappelles de Dean ? Du lycée. À l'époque on l'appelait Sy.***”

Sy watched as the old man seemed to light up with memory and a small smile, then listened to a conversation between father and daughter that he couldn’t understand. Frankie’s father reached out to shake his hand with a wink, then turned to head back into the front room. 

“Wanna take a walk with me?” Frankie asked, motioning down the path. “Or I could invite you in and we could do the pleasantries of small talk over cold lemonade and cookies I baked the other day?”

“You bake?” Sy asked with a chuckle. 

“Been goin’ through all of Mom’s old recipes. It’s therapeutic in more ways than one. And sorry about that. Dad’s kinda given up on English, especially now that she’s passed,” Frankie answered and watched Sy’s face fall a little, eyebrows furrowed and head atilt.

“Well now I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t know about your Mom.”

“Thank you. It happened just before my last mission. I hated leaving but I promised him we’d spend time together once I was done with work.” She gave a quick glance back into the house.

Sy heaved a breath in and out. “Let’s walk.” 

He waited for Frankie to close the front door and let her lead the way as they stepped back onto the gravel path and followed it around to the back of the house and down into the large, lush garden where she motioned to a stone bench facing a pond.

“I feel like I know this answer, because I doubt you’d be here if you did, but I have to ask: Do you hate me?” Frankie asked, turning to him with a look of concern on her face. 

“Sugar I could never hate you,” Sy answered immediately without any hesitation. “Couldn’t for the life of me figure out why you shut off all communication and never came back, though. Marshall wasn’t exactly forthcoming either.”

“Did they at least tell you about...? About the case?” Frankie asked, unwilling to voice the name just yet.

“You mean the part where no one was ever gonna let him take the stand?” Frankie nodded at Sy’s question. “Yeah. Said if he had an opportunity to implicate any of the people he’d bribed information from, national security was fucked. Sure. Apparently, all those other traitors had guardian angels sitting on their shoulders. The number of retirement announcements from the military and congress was staggering. Is that why you didn’t come back?”

“Are you asking if it made me sick to my stomach? That August Walker took the fall for all of them? I guess that’s part of it for sure, yeah.”

“Fuck, Sugar. You really were in deep with him.”

“I was blind, Sy. I wasn’t not doing my job but I let a lot of things get in the way of reality and when I found out they were all getting off the hook I couldn’t stomach it anymore.” 

Frankie turned to stare out over the water while Sy took a moment to ponder her words and consider if he really wanted the answer to his next question. It could make all the difference to the end result of his impromptu visit. But if he didn’t ask, he’d never know and if somehow things worked out between them, the possibility would hang over his head forever.

“Did you love him?”

He watched her slow-blink her eyes closed, inhale and let out a deep sigh. He felt the bottom begin to drop from underneath him, afraid now of her answer and what it would mean. He wanted to reach out and grab the words back, stuff them down his throat and never let them out again. He swore to whatever god would listen that if she would just come home with him when this conversation was over, he’d never give August Walker another thought. When she spoke, he almost couldn’t hear her answer, the way the blood from his beating heart rushed passed his ears.

“Not really.” Frankie turned back to Sy and opened her eyes. As her voice trickled through the dense fog of his worry, he could at least see the promise in what she was saying. “For a while I thought I did. It took me time to figure out that I just loved the way he made me feel. Alive and reckless with no one to answer to but someone who only loved me for the person they thought I was.”

“And who are you, Frankie?”

“I’m figuring that out now, Sy. That’s the other part of why I couldn’t come back. I didn’t want to step back into whatever it was we had started again without a better understanding of what my life means now. And what that means for whoever is going to be a part of it.”

“What do you mean ‘whoever’, Sugar?” Sy asked, struggling to hide the emotion her words had stirred within him. He was certain she couldn’t possibly think he wasn’t the one even as he realized how little time they’d actually had together. It killed him to think she might not give him a chance to prove how much he wanted to give her everything.

“I don't want someone afraid of losing me,” Frankie replied.

“I already did. I ain't afraid of it anymore. Just don't want to ever feel it again.” Sy watched her face carefully, searching for any sign that she didn’t understand exactly what he was saying. Just to make sure, he spoke again. “I ain’t looking to change you, Frankie. I ain’t looking to stop you from being whoever you want to be. I just wanna be there with you for as long as I can. If that’s okay.”

“Fuck, where did you come from?” Frankie asked after considering his words and smiled at his comfortable laugh.

“Frankie, it’s always been you for me. Who you are now? She ain’t really all that different from that wildcat I fell in love with twenty years ago. I love every fuckin’ thing about you.” Sy saw the doubt creep on her face. “Yeah, Sugar, all of it. You are a strong, self-aware woman who ain’t afraid to take what she needs. I count myself lucky you ain’t never found someone else interested in all of that and if I don’t get you to let me kiss you right now to show you what I’m talking about, well this whole trip’s probably been for naught.”

Sy lifted a hand to brush his fingers past her shoulder and smooth up the side of her neck, pressing the tips into her nape and applying the gentlest of pressure, waiting for her to make up her mind and lean into him. When she finally did, her lips crashed into his and he felt gravity flip as he grabbed on to her with his other arm and pulled her all the way against him. He slid his hand down to her hip and urged her to lift a leg and spin to straddle him so he could feel her weight and know she was real.

Sy smoothed both hands up her back as he held her close and kissed her deep, parting her lips with his tongue and licking into the space she made for him while she did the same. When he realized he wasn’t going to be able to stop if they kept kissing for much longer, he raised his hands to tangle in her hair and pull her head from his as he cleared his throat and spoke low.

“Sorry, that’s more than I thought I’d get from you at the moment. I doubt your dad or the neighbors wanna see what else I’d like to do to you right now.”

“There are no neighbors nearby, Sy. And Dad doesn’t spend time in the back of the house.”

Sy couldn’t help himself from stiffening at the thought and raised an eyebrow in question. He grew even harder as he watched Frankie bite her bottom lip and nod as she ran her hands down his chest landing at the clasp of his slacks. She unhooked the waistband and slid the zipper down agonizingly slowly before reaching in to grab his aching cock and push his boxers down enough so that he was free and could feel her touch on his burning skin.

He dropped his hands to her thighs, smoothing the thin fabric up her legs and sweeping his fingers over her ass cheeks while she stroked him lazily and bent to return to the kiss. His hands found the strings of her thong and he slipped a thumb under the back so he could grab hold and tug up, applying pressure to her clit. Frankie moaned into his mouth and arched her back into the sensation.

Sy pulled the flimsy material to the side and reached his hand further down and under her ass so he could just feel the wetness as he brushed his fingers against the delicate lips he could barely reach. He only realized how much he was also loving the way her hand squeezed and pulled him when she stopped suddenly and he broke the kiss to see what could be wrong. Instead of disaster, he was met with her mischievous eyes as she wiggled the hand that had previously been making him feel so good under her skirt while her other hand pulled the material back so he could see exactly what she was doing.

He groaned and watched rapt as Frankie slid her fingers inside her underwear and into her cunt. She pressed deep and moved around before she pulled them back out glistening with her own juices. And just like that he was in heaven again as she smeared her slick all over his cock and bent to whisper in his ear.

“Fuck me, Sy.”

“Gladly.” Sy eased her thong to the side down her thigh as she pressed her feet into the earth beneath them to lift up and settle herself back down his length with a luxurious sigh. She had barely engulfed him completely before he began to squeeze his ass to pump his hips into her with fervor.

With her hands on Sy’s shoulders, Frankie used the leverage to lift and lower herself on him in tandem with his thrusts, as he delved deeper and deeper. He felt every squeeze of her walls around him and swallowed her cries of pleasure as the head of his engorged member brushed her cervix again and again. 

Sy wanted to put his hands on her body, on her skin. He thought about lifting her dress up and over her head, but settled on simply wrapping an arm around her waist and sliding the other up her back so he could manipulate her movements to make sure they were both feeling as good as they could. He wanted this to last forever, but seeing her now, hearing her moan above him for the first time in months knowing the last time he saw her he was making her come too caused a rush of sensation to course through his body. He pulled away from their kiss again.

“I ain’t gonna last Sugar, not like this.”

“I need you to hang on a little bit longer, Sy. Please,” Frankie begged him, grinding her hips a few more times before she did the unthinkable. After easing herself off him, she pulled her dress off exactly the way Sy had just wanted to. She dropped it to the grass and then sank to her knees and finally her back with the dress as a makeshift blanket. She reached out for him and he tumbled forward off the bench and between her open legs, pressing a kiss to her lips as he palmed a breast.

His lips moved over her chin and throat as he began to ease his way down her body, pulling her tiny thong along with him and pushing it off her legs. He took a few moments to push his own shoes and pants off as well pull his shirt over his head and now just as naked as Frankie, Sy positioned himself between her legs, shoulders spreading her wide so he could get a good long look at her puffy, pink pussy dripping and waiting for him.

“Not sure I’m gonna last long this way either, but we’ll give it a try,” he teased before putting his mouth on her. He nipped at her clit and rubbed his forefingers along her slit, easing in and out with a tease she whimpered for. When he heard her beg with a “please” he slid his fingers all the way in and licked around them. Sy pumped and pressed the palm of his hand against her mound for a moment before he pulled his hand all the way out and let his tongue do the rest of the work. 

He felt his cock rub against the fabric of her dress as he rutted against the ground and fought to stem the growing pressure.

“So fucking turned on eating you out like this, Frankie,” he groaned into her cunt before returning to the job. Frankie held his head in place, grinding up against him. When she came in a rush of heat and wet, Sy took the opportunity to crawl back up and slip his dick inside her, thrusting and pumping with vigor. He grazed his fingers up the side of her body and then watched as she grabbed his hand and moved it to her throat, pressing just a little.

“Just hold still right there,” she gasped. “Fuck me and I’ll do the rest.”

Sy grunted in pleasure at the thought and did as he was instructed. He felt Frankie lean up into his hand. All the effort it took to keep his hand precisely still for her meant his attention wasn’t on how good she felt around him as he pumped in and out. Where he thought he’d need just a few more strokes, Sy now felt the time slip by as she moved into his hand and back out again, playing with her own breath for him. When he finally felt her tighten around him, he wasn’t prepared for how fast his own release came as well. He was so caught up in the way she maneuvered that he hadn’t noticed the build at all.

They lay naked on the grass next to each other, catching their breath with hands on their chests, waiting until the pounding of their hearts had resided before turning to face one another.

“You sure no one could see us?”

“Would you hate me if I said no?” Frankie teased before leaning over for a kiss to taste herself on his lips. “Kidding. No one can see us. Even if Dad ventured back to the kitchen, where he never likes to go anymore, there are enough trees and bushes in the garden to obscure this view. Our closest neighbors are a couple kilometers away. Your virtue is safe, promise.”

“Funny.” Sy rolled her on her back and kissed her long and deep again before settling along her side, drawing lazy lines along her skin. “You know I didn’t know what to expect when I saw you again. I’m real glad how this has turned out so far.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you in limbo forever, I swear. I just needed to get my head on straight.” Frankie sat up and reached for Sy’s pants, handing them to him and motioning to her own dress below.

“Did I fuck up your timeline?” Sy asked, plucking his shirt off the ground next. He stuck his arms through the sleeves and tucked his thumbs in the neck hole to pull the shirt over his head, elbows wide, before checking around for his shoes.

“I’ll recover, I’m sure.” Frankie slipped the dress back on and did her own sweep of the lawn, looking for her panties.

“I got those, Sugar,” Sy grinned, making a show of tucking the small bundle into his pocket. “Safe keeping till you come back home.”

Frankie reached up to run her fingers through Sy’s hair, brushing a few stray pieces of grass from his locks and let him do the same for her before pulling him in for more kisses. She broke away reluctantly and hooked her arm through his to lead the way back up to the house.

“I honestly haven’t decided when that’ll be, Sy.”

“I’m pretty good at waiting for you if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Or if I ever will.”

Sy stopped short and turned her to him.

“I wondered about that. Not for my own selfish reasons, mind you. But I got to thinking about some of the things you told me over dinner that night. About having a safety net of sorts. This is a nice place.”

“I also told you I liked being useful…but you’re not wrong. It’s been a long time since I took care of myself.”

“Or let someone take care of you?”

“Sy…”

“I ain’t talking about keeping you under wraps, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, Sugar. I just mean, you don’t need to go it alone. Look, you are free to make your own decisions about going back to the agency, finding something else to do, or quitting altogether. But I wanna be with you, Frankie. Wherever that is. If you wanna stay here, I’ll let you know right now that if you’ll have me, I’m ready to leave it all behind, too.”

“You’d walk away with me, Sy?”

“I would.“

Translations of the French *,**,**:

* “How can I help you?”

** “Papa, who is it?”

*** “Papa, you remember Dean? From high school. We called him Sy back then.”

Taglists

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[miraiq]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

repost, do not reblog this

NAME: Prince/Jehr/PJ. PJ is just a combo of the two alias' first letters. Jehr was my original when I first started out using aliases ever, which was created for me by my best friend at the time. I slowly tried to make a new alias for other muses I wanted to write without having them be associated with me-- for some reason? Wanted to hide or start fresh or something I guess? Same friend also made me take a HomeStuck quiz to get my... uh... vibe? I don't recall what it was, but the answer was Prince of the Light and I used that as my personal url for years, so I actually took the newer alias from that.

PRONOUNS: He/Him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord is the fastest way to get responses from me, simply because the app is always logged in on my phone and pc, while tumblr is only logged in to my personal tumblr via my phone. Any mutuals that would like to add me on Discord: princem0n

NAME OF MUSE(s): For my sanity, google doc for full list. Otherwise, main/actively in use muses: Severa/Selena(FE), Caelus(HSR), Serval(HSR), Kyo(Fruits Basket)

BEST EXPERIENCE: To be perfectly honest shit-posting/memes are always a welcome relief and the best way to destress. I recall previously that myself and group of fellow hooligans would constantly make photoshop edits of stupid things that would go around on the dash. Example(s) of something(s) I made during that time:

But I also really enjoyed being able to deep dive into characters relations and how they worked against or with each other. Especially when it came to characters who didn't have their entire story brought to the forefront, like most videogame characters. You don't get to see the behind the scenes stuff with them, most the time, so it's fun to see how they could have gone about or reacted to different situations/after the fact/how it affected them.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS: Lack of communication. Sometimes I forget things, so I'll typically come ask for an answer or reconfirming that I didn't miss something or misinterpret anything. If there is an issue, I am begging, please just approach me. I often will do this if I have a problem, all I ask is the same in return. I can't stand constantly being left on read, especially when trying to discuss stuff plot related. We can't be on the same page if we don't have conversations going BOTH WAYS.

Other than that I'm pretty relaxed. I, as a slow writer, won't hound people practically ever for responses. We're adults, life happens, things come up, muses hide or aren't as strong as others. As long as you aren't actively ignoring me/our threads, there's no problem. If I don't see you posting at all then I know you just need a breather and that is A-OKAY. This is a hobby for fun. Why be fussy and cause problems due to impatience? I guess that is another pet peeve- impatience- lmao.

MUSE PREFERENCES: Bottoms. I notice myself writing of lot of "tsundere" types? Or redheads. I just love them. Misunderstood but fight against the world because they don't want anyone to know that they're broken.

PLOTS OR MEMES: Both. Both is good. Everything in balance. I used to meme a lot, and I've definitely toned it down. But I don't know, sometimes getting too serious or having too many think-hard-about threads can be tiring, and lil shitposting is a good breather to be able to let you get back on with it.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Both are nice. I tend to overwrite, simply because my style will typically go into my muse's thought process(es), or if the thread is still being established, I try to set the scene or give background information. But, short replies are nice. Gives you a small thing to work on and take a rest between lengthier threads. That's also why I like random inbox prompts. Not all of them have to go anywhere- just gives you a space to do something else aside from your drafts.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I am absolutely not a morning person. Night owl to the max. You will see me up still at 3am more often than not. I typically wake up around 10am-1pm, so I'm usually writing right around dinner.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): In some aspects, sure. Not entirely like one-for-one with any muse, but there's always at least a piece of myself in each muses. Helps write them better, in my opinion. Only exceptions typically being any "self-insert" like characters. (ie. Robin/Avatar from Fire Emblem: Awakening). Most of those characters still have a base personality to them though, so unless you completely customize them, they're still pretty "how do YOU respond" choices change how they are.

Tagged by: Stealing dis from Rath Tagging: Yo who wants to let me know their lore?

[neurodiversebones]

i'm sorry you're having a hard time :( recovery is tough, but i believe in you! if you're comfortable, do you wanna share your recovery headcanons for those characters?

i hope things get better for you soon 💖 you've got this!

thank you !!! i hope things get easier soon as well bc . hhh !!! this is a Lot !!! you are so sweet <33 as for the headcanons i would be Delighted to share them (i am always so nervous to talk abt ed hc's , even if it's recovery related bc i am So Scared of being accused of romanticizing it 😭) . obvious tw for ed's below the cut !

cam :

in recovery from anorexia (AN-R) !

she is like me frfr in that recovery is a Long road for her . she's struggled for a long time, and so recovery is kind of a lifelong process rather than something she can simply Finish and be okay

her ocd has contributed a lot to her ed, and so ed recovery goes hand in hand with ocd recovery. with this, her anxiety starts to go down a Lot !

she has . a lot of guilt pertaining to her ed . guilt over having it, guilt over getting better, guilt over literally Everything . this is something she is Working On in therapy but boy is it a big hurdle

she . really never learned how to cook much , and so something that is helping her associate food with Good Times is learning how ! arastoo is teaching her a lot- these are her favourite nights, being in the kitchen with him and learning how to make something new. he shares his cultural dishes with her and she is so excited about this <3 (she is still not a very good cook because that is just how cam Is . takeout girlie for life .)

brennan :

in recovery from arfid ! as well as orthorexic tendencies

her arfid is specifically related to both sensory issues (hello fellow autistic arfid havers) and trauma (foster care = unreliable access to food)

trying new things is really hard for her- she has a very strict list of foods she eats and has very rarely strayed from that over the years. it takes a few tries before actually being able to eat something new- she needs to be able to look at it, feel the texture, experience the smell and other sensations that come along with it .

her arfid did go generally unnoticed because her safe foods would be considered "atypical"- she doesn't eat highly processed or packaged foods, and almost all of her safe foods are considered "health foods" (thank you orthorexia) .

booth tries new things with her- when she challenges a fear food, he'll try one of her "healthy" foods that he usually wouldn't be a fan of . it helps her to recognize that balance is both possible and healthy , and they are both finding new things they enjoy ! she learned that she rlly enjoys popcorn and sour candy , and he is surprisingly into quinoa now

hodgins :

recovering from ednos / osfed !

his ed was very heavily based in his gender dysphoria , so being able to transition has helped a LOT . a big part of why he recovered was so he could get top surgery without it posing a risk to his health

[SEASON 3 AND SEASON 11 SPOILERS HERE] trauma also plays a big part- he really, really struggled after zack was sent away, as well as after his accident . it's a coping mechanism for him- so in times of stress, he's prone to turn back and relapse

his relationships with others help- his love for angela, his love for his kids, his love for his friends at work- they all keep him grounded and give him something to live for. he wants to be around as long as possible to spend more time with them <3

angela is literally the most patient EVER and it makes him feel so loved and supported (tbh . i have angela headcanons too but my brain is telling me that's Too Many . let me know if u wanna hear those too .)

[TRIGGER WARNING : SH MENTION] he is also in recovery from sh and is almost a year clean which is such a win jack hodgins so cool era

that is all !!!!! i Think about them a lot because all of the bones characters are my comfort characters , so thinking abt them dealing w the stuff i am helps me through a Lot . i love these guys so much they deserve the world

[sutcliffe-v]

source || @bscornersafeandaway

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Answering these myself because it’s easier— His biggest wish, before meeting [insert love interest] in his route, is to destroy the White Room completely, and everything Naoya has worked towards. And complicate all of Karlheinz’s plans by association. He would go to pretty much any length for it, even embracing the ‘devilish’ nature everyone has associated him with.

Over time though, he starts to yearn for humanity . For just the ability to feel human, even if only for a while. He wants to be able to express himself, to be acknowledged and looked at, he wants to feel like he exists— Instead of just taking up space, and wandering around helplessly.

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

Virek doesn’t have a favourite flower, though ones I would associate with him would be:

Datura. Also known as the ‘devil’s trumpets’, these flowers are a highly poisonous flower. Often used for poisons and hallucinogens, they can often cause delirium, psychosis, and even death if taken internally (amongst other life threatening conditions).

Black Dahlia. Representing evil and dishonesty, this flower can often symbolise betrayal, doom, and other negative emotions.

Lilac. Symbolising death and mourning, it also represents growth, and self development.

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

Pushing people away. He is incredibly distrusting of everyone— Not only because of how sheltered he is, but he knows first hand how the human brain works. Thus knows that nearly anyone would stoop to betrayal to save their own skin, even him. So he looks solely for transactional relationships, nothing more.

Taciturn way of speaking. He was isolated by the other children, simply because they thought there was something ‘off’ with him. Especially when he spoke. He always seemed to lose them, or they always get confused or put off. So he chooses to communicate in as little words as possible, if at all.

Smoking/Chewing on anything. He doesn’t like smoking because it makes him feel good, but because it stops him from grinding his teeth/chewing on his tongue. Either this or he chews on lollipop sticks, his nails, his lips if he has to, literally anything within reason. If his mouth isn’t doing something— He’s chewing on his tongue or cheek, and running the risk of making himself bleed.

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

He’s an exceptional liar. Not only is he just skilled in manipulating others, it’s already a challenge to figure out what is going through his head.

However it gets easier if you overwhelm him. Once he starts to panic, everything falls, including his lying acts.

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?

Blood red— Though inhumanely dull. Often described as looking at death itself, a lot of people claimed to have hallucinated their own demise when looking into them. They also glow inhumanely bright during a full or blood moon (a coincidence. virek doesn’t actually possess any supernatural qualities.)

His eyes are the most noticeable, yet most unsettling part about him. Most people prefer not to look him in the eye for fear of being hypnotised or controlled.

[doodlenoodleboi]

(Just a rant about my long distance lover things are but rough right now but I know it will work out in the end!) part 1 of my romance rant

These fictional characters remind me of him, I honestly had his contact as miles for a minute because that’s she he reminds me of. As I to know him more he did show more quality’s of Tsuki in the way that he tries to be nonchalant but once again he’s simply the playful type like miles but he could be the mysterious type if he ever chose to. But I promise you that pink hoodie and nervous sounding taking he had in the beginning of our relationship is far from mysterious. I thought he was just shy but English just isn’t his first language.

He has pretty tired eyes like Shinsou his hair is also similar to miles but different texture. His eyes are almond shape like most people associate with Asians because his grandma is Chinese and whatnot. We can say that he’s Blasian but he doesn’t really fit the label nor really like it so let’s just say he’s black. I feel like he fits the description even more so with all his traveling and his remarks on the UK sounds like he’s been there. My significant other at the moment is busy at the moment with his stuff and I’ve come to terms with trusting him and believing that everything will be work out in the end.

I don’t know why but I copy people I love so much like my s/o (significant other) has glasses so guess what I get glasses. My crush in middle school through high freshman year, I got not one not two but 4 skateboards because of him. (I still can’t skateboard properly, I prefer skates) which one our first “date” was at a skating ring wayyy to loud for us. Oddly enough we’re both introverted but my s/o just adapts easier. I fixked up so bad around him I even fell making him look so much better than me but hey we both have our embarrassing moments.

My s/o one time mistook a stuffed animal at the park when we skipped school for a real bear and I was so confused but when I realized it must have been to embarrassing for him. So every time I’m embarrassed of past events and or experiences I think back to that and most of the things I’ve done weren’t that embarrassing. The man is practically blind without his glasses and decides not to wear them most of the time even though he looks so good with them on. At the same time I think I stroked his ego just a bit given he did wear his glasses more often afterwards.

I love him… 

- ✩ ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

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"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

[ashesandhackles]

The Hogwarts Express scene in Prince's Tale: A Sirius and Snape analysis

I really, really enjoy Sirius and Snape as characters and their respective narrative functions in story. But what gets me most about them is how much Rowling hints about their backgrounds and so much of it makes sense with regard to who they are as adults. So I am going to be breaking down a very small scene from Prince Tale and getting into long winded hypothesis about their respective childhoods.

So, let's start with Snape. The scene begins with Snape rushing to find Lily, already in his Hogwarts clothes. Harry notes he must have been eager to get out of his clothes - ones that look like he borrowed from his mother, as Petunia spitefully pointed out. This has always been a very interesting detail to me - first off, it indicates how poor Snape's family is. Second, this indicates his tiny rebellion from his father - he refuses to wear clothes of the abusive man, and prefers his mother's. I admit, I am partial to the reading that Snape refuses to associate with his father in tiny ways, rather than Tobias refusing to hand his son clothes.

(I have seen readings which say that it is also a sign of neglect - perhaps his parents bought clothes that simply don't fit him, but I am more inclined to think it's a hand me down, simply because Harry identifies so strongly with it. Because Harry knows what it is like to wear a hand me down that don't quite fit, that are too big for you, or the ones that make you look ridiculous.)

Lily and Petunia's relationship is fraught with Petunia's jealousy. And young Lily is upset over it when Snape meets her. "I am not talking to you. Tuney hates me" she tells him. "Because we saw the letter from Dumbledore". Young Lily shows signs of being extremely emotionally reactive and this scene is one of them. It's easier for her to deal with Petunia's rejection of her by telling Snape she doesn't want to talk to him. It's a childish displacement of her hurt over her sister's rejection. (I am genuinely baffled by interpretations that Lily and Hermione are similar. Hermione is very cognitive person, Lily, as we have been shown repeatedly in memories, is not).

Snape, however, with his bad history with Petunia and his inability/ poor social skills to understand why this matters to her, goes: "So what?"

Lily, who throws him a look of deep dislike, says "So she's my sister". This seed is important because this is what develops into "he doesn't get me" feeling she later displays in her teenage scenes with him. Interestingly, most of Lily's personal relationships have deeply interwined love and dislike - Petunia (whose rejection bothers her but she cheerfully informs Sirius that Harry nearly broke a vase her sister sent - which means there is resentment on her end too), James - who she was attracted to even before 7th year but also disliked at one point, and Snape - again, a contentious friendship filled with love and distance.

"She's only a -" we dont get to hear what Snape intended to say. And given his own acrimony with Petunia, it could be anything. However, I read it as "She's only a Muggle" because it ties into his feelings about his father. Snape, who is proud of being half a Prince, emphasizing his magical lineage from his mother's side, his refuge in a violent, neglectful home. (Barty Crouch Jr and Snape with their disappointing fathers - I imagine Voldemort is supremely attractive leader to people with broken homes like this)

Snape, by all accounts, shows a disorganised attachment style. His caregiver, his mother - and perhaps the only parent he seems to have regard for, is too preoccupied by her own abuse to be there for her son - we see this in glimpses Harry sees in OOTP: " woman cowering" where a man shouts at her, and a young, neglected Snape cries in the corner. Children born in homes like this have trouble regulating their emotions, simultaneously displaying tendencies to aggressively lash out or show disassociative symptoms. Both of which Snape displays. Statistically, this is also seen more in low income households where economic instability and resulting domestic instability creates an unsafe environment for the kids to safely form ideas of their identity, or express emotions in healthy ways, modelling instead out of behaviour seen at home.

Then, Snape reminds her that they are going to Hogwarts. He is already in his Hogwarts clothes - now, Snape gets to be the impressive figure. The one who told her about magic, who theorised about how Muggles get letters from magical people, the one who told her about Dementors and Azkaban. He has already left behind the Spinner's End version of him, he wants to bigger than that, and is keen to be in place of magical learning and to join Slytherin. Essentially, he shows signs of unstable identity, insecurity - all prime for grooming into a cult.

And here comes along James Potter, who looks around at the mention of Slytherin. James's comment uses Snape's line and directs it to Sirius instead and it becomes a conversation between them, as a way to bond more with a fellow "rowdy boy" Sirius. Effectively ignoring the other two.

Sirius as we see here, "does not smile" when James talks about Slytherin. He essentially says something that can be construed as a way to nip that conversation in bud: "My whole family has been in. Slytherin". This suggests to me that there is some loyalty to his family there and his disillusionment with them isn't entirely fixed yet. After all, Sirius's intense loyalty to his friends, more specifically James, did not come out of thin air. It is reasonable to suggest that he felt some loyalty to his family at some point and the intensity with which he regards his friends is a reaction to burned off and being a "displaced person without a family" as Rowling put it.

Interestingly, while his reaction to his mother and Bellatrix are obviously sore spots, his response to Regulus is comparatively quite soft. ("Stupid, idiot" - something he calls James later on in the same book, OOTP). I imagine Sirius has quite complicated feelings about his brother and he is capable of nuance (when the person isn't Snape, where his dislike seems to be borne of an intense projection): "The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters". As someone who is grown up among them, Sirius would understand that.

His framing of Regulus's need to please his parents also further highlights what exactly is the source of disillusionment. He calls Regulus "soft enough to believe them" - which means he is crediting his own intelligence to see through his parents bigoted world view. Clearly, bigotry is not something the Blacks explained in a way that Sirius, eldest of their male line and their heir, bought it. It also probably didn't help the Blacks case that Grimmauld Place is in a Muggle neighborhood and that their eldest son is a bit of a wild boy with interest in pushing boundaries. His intellectual disconnect leads to the righteous rage he later feels but it began there. (Boy, it must suck to discover that everything you have been taught to value in the world and in yourself as the heir is essentially rubbish). Since his differences with his family began with seeds of intellectual disconnect rather than on intense empathy with downtrodden, it makes him, as a pureblooded privileged boy, unable to truly understand Lupin's fears regarding his lycanthropy. Hence, the Werewolf prank (I am not getting to the Snape bit, just the Lupin bit). To James' credit, he does understand what that means for Lupin and saves all three of them from different set of consequences.

Anyway, back to the scene. James, who has made an ass of himself in front of his new friend, who he was getting along with fine until now, then goes "Blimey, I thought you seemed alright". (Btw, I find James wildly large ego kind of hilarious here, especially in light of Snape's comment about him to Sirius in OOTP: "You will know he is so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him"). Sirius, who I believe has been raised like "royalty" as Blacks would, has good enough social skills to defuse a situation. He grins and says: "Maybe I will break the tradition".

This line is an indication of Sirius's desire for independence, an identity seperate from his family. The use of the word "tradition" is interesting. It sounds like Sirius is expected to behave in a certain way, the heir of Black family whose parents thought being a Black "made you practically royal". Adult Sirius is contemptuous of this, or their "valuable contribution to Ministry" which means they just gave gold - it tells me that any and all conditions put on him by his family were to fulfill tradition that is either worthless or holds no meaning in his eyes. The root of the emotional abuse Sirius suffers from his family is this - realising his parents love for him is conditional on him being a certain way. (In fact, you can read Regulus desire to emphasise his connection to the family as a reaction to what he sees with Sirius - Sirius does not behave, Mum and Dad don't love him). As a child with unconscious knowledge of lack of love, Sirius then acts out, they react, rinse and repeat "until he has had enough". Sirius chafes against boundaries well into adulthood and doesn't react well to people enforcing it on him, even if it is out of love for him. Cue the fire scene with Harry where he behaves as if Harry is rejecting him instead of protecting him.

Sirius asks James about where he wants to go, and Snape, who is incensed about James being insulting about a House he put stock in, which he made part of new identity (so that he is no longer that Snape boy from Spinner's End) and was in general trying to be impressive about in front of Lily, "makes a disparaging noise" once James talks of Gryffindor. Snape's response to James' : "Got a problem with that?" is interesting. He says: "If you'd rather be brawny, rather than brainy-"

This is an important value for Snape. He knows he is clever and values it. He spends his spare time inventing hexes, making great shortcuts to Potions. He has genuine thirst for learning and he hones it. In SWM, we see that he has written far more longer answers than anyone else, he is poring over his paper after exams. He even mocks Hermione's lack of inventive answers: "Answer copied word to word from the textbook, but correct in essentials". He values originality. It may be me stretching this, but I am partial to the reading: this is his way of rejecting his father once again, who is implied to be a violent man. (in other words, someone who is hypermasculine - "brawny". In fact, Snape's rejection of hypermasculinity is a huge post on it's own - Potions (brewing, cauldrons - coded as feminine arts), the doe Patronus, his proficiency in Occlumency and Legliemency (intuitive mind arts, again seen archetypically feminine) etc).

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you are neither?" - Sirius is quick with emotionally cutting insults. Snape hasn't even finished his sentence, but Sirius is already on his case. Which suggests growing up in a household with sharp tongues. It's a fair assumption, given Mrs Black's half mad portrait. It also tallies with Sirius's talking about his mother: "My mother didn't have a heart Kreacher, she kept herself alive out of pure spite" . The wounds are fresh enough on this. (Another interesting way Snape and Sirius act as inverse mirrors - Snape rejects his father, Sirius rejects his mother. Sirius acts as proxy for James for Harry while Snape takes on Lily's role of protecting him). However, you know who else is spiteful? Sirius.

While James is the physical bully (the tripping Snape, doing most of the bullying in SWM), Sirius attacks emotionally. ( Sample the one about Snape's appearance - "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment, there will be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word" or even the carelessly vicious- "Put that away, before Wormtail wets himself in excitement"). Curiously, with all that talk of how his mother being spiteful, it's her room he spends time in when he is depressed. (Again, in inverse mirror way, we can talk of how Snape looks for a father figure in Dumbledore - craves his validation and is proud of Dumbledore's trust in him). We could argue it's also because Buckbeak is there, and perhaps it's the largest room in the house, but it's very telling that's where Sirius spends time when he is "in a fit of sullens". Sirius's sense of abandonment from his family, makes him look for family connections with friends - a trait he shares with Harry. Interestingly, the first time he glimpses Harry in Privet Drive, Harry is also running away from home - just like he did. Anyway, I could go on.

[xsugarysweetsx]

Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))

Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*

A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!

other fic here

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

There he went again...

The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?

This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him. 

“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI

“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.  

Just as he was going to leave you called for him

“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?

“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard

“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.

“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”

“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask

“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true

“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see

“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“

Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought

“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed 

“Kao-”

“Cherry” he interrupted 

“What?”

Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.” 

So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this. 

He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before. 

“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked 

“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked

He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear

“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him

“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“

“Shut up you big oaf!!“

<>

During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying 

“The Cherries have arrived“ 

On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist

“Don’t let me fall“

“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered  

“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk

“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek 

It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.  

Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.

“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“

A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers. 

*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”

“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on

“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“

“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news

“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?

“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence 

“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him

“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“

“Alright“ you smile back 

“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“

<>

“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“

“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“

To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.

Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls. 

“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile 

“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that 

‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier 

“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked 

“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“

“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said

“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family.  A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment

“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper

“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”

Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”

“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

[andtheydontstopwriting]

The Fourth or Bust 【Rodrick Heffley x GN!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

genre: just pure fluff

word count: 1323

summary: it’s your first fourth of july that you actually do something on associated with the holiday, and let’s just say it won’t be a bust at all.

author’s note: this is based upon whatever universe i created with curses and easier, but made this version gender neutral! as usual i am still growing and working on my skill so feedback is always appreciated!!

The Fourth of July was a holiday you had not exactly celebrated before. Growing up in the Upper East Side of New York, the most that would happen was watching fireworks from a distance, but there would be no party or no cookout, not even a hotdog or hamburger. Even if your family went camping, it was not the traditional sort of camping. It was luxury cabins in the woods, and a grill or campfire was never even considered. It was boat rides, swimming and drinking for the adults and expensive fish for dinner. 

So when your family moved out of the city and into a small town in Massachusetts, things started to change. Well, they did not change for your parents--maybe your mother who went to drink with her friends she had made since the move, but your father would prefer to keep up traditions and only went to the parties his co-workers would throw to ensure things would only be kept strictly business. 

For you and your brother, however, it was an entirely different story. Your brother went to the bigger parties, thrown by one of his friends. Where you went to a neighborhood thrown celebration party with your boyfriend, Rodrick. 

It apparently was one his and his family went to yearly, and he was just excited that he could bring someone that was both his age and someone he enjoyed to be with to the party this year as his dad had made it clear none of his friends could go, considering it was thrown by his neighborhood rival dad. But Frank had taken a liking to you and thought you were a good influence, so allowed you to go. 

When the Fourth finally rolled around, though the wait was not long as it felt it had only been a couple days since school had let out for the summer, you were up bright and early as Frank had told you to be at the Heffley’s house nice and early in the morning and you headed to that instruction. Getting ready was quick and to the point, trying to not overdo it with a simple shirt and a pair of shorts to withstand the warmer weather, slipping on your sneakers before leaving at the front entryway of your home.

                                                      :~+~:

Okay, so you were a few minutes later according to Frank, but in reality you had arrived at the time Rodrick told you to be there--around 10 or 11. So maybe it was late, but also not late at all. But according to Mr. Heffley it was as he had to run by whatever nonsense rule and expectations there were with the entire family before going into ‘enemy territory’ for the afternoon. Susan assured you that you’d be fine no matter what, it was mainly for her boys to stay out of trouble, but Frank did not want to signal them out that summer.

The party itself was what she expected whenever she saw or thought about a typical middle class suburban Fourth celebration would look like and be like: flag decor everywhere and the only thing in sight aside from red, white and blue, was chips, hot dogs hamburgers, cakes and cupcakes and whatever snacks associated with a backyard barbeque would have. While it was not your first to have these sorts of foods, as it was becoming increasingly common the longer you stayed in Plainville, it did not make the excitement to have them around any less momentous for you. You have learned to contain this excitement, often utilizing the seen not heard tactic you and your brother used as young children attending a high society party to conceal that excitement. Though judging by the amount of both yours and Rodrick’s plates, it was clear. 

“Got enough food there, babe?” Rodrick asked, looking at the food on the paper plate in your hand.

“You shouldn’t be talking, sweetheart.” You countered with a slight laugh, “But I don’t know when I’m going to have this stuff again, so gotta take advantage of it.”

“I’m sure if you tell my mom that, she’ll make sure we’ll have hot dogs and hamburgers every time you come by,” Rodrick pointed out before eating a chip, adding with his mouth full, “She loves you that much, after all.”

“I may just have to do that then.” You agreed though you were not sure if you would actually do so, but it would be a nice thought and something to use for the future and rest of the summer if she was ever craving a hot dog or something later on. 

The barbecue during the day was quite fun though you could tell Rodrick was getting over it really fast as the day dragged on because there was not a whole lot to do until night started coming and the fireworks were to begin. But there was something you had found enjoyable about the non-business, non-formal party in the backyard of someone’s house that kept you entertained in the summer heat. While you knew that staying so long in the summer heat most likely was not the ideal situation, but regardless you enjoyed it. 

With dusk approaching, that was the agreed upon time the Heffley family would leave to head to the town’s firework show, as it was the time most of those who went to that backyard party would be leaving, too. The fireworks were also something you had been invited to, and you did not have to be asked twice because fireworks were the few things that your Fourth of July shared with everyone else. There was something special about them, though the loud noise was not an ideal, the colors were worth it.  

Driving out to where the fireworks display was...was something, largely because it was you driving you and Rodrick behind the Heffley SUV, and the entire ride was Rodrick complaining about the day they had.

“I almost punched Greg about three times this afternoon, and I can’t even tell you why.”

“Why did it have to be so hot out? This tan line is gonna suck so much.”

“If it weren’t for you, I probably would have actually punched Greg now that I’m thinking about it…”

You could only smile and attempt to respond back to anything he was talking about, but they were all in rapid succession as they often were. You had noticed that when you two were alone, Rodrick’s thoughts simply just...came out without much of a filter and sometimes without pause. Whatever came across his mind, he said if he knew he could do so when you were around, largely because if it was just you, he knew you would not get him into trouble. It showed how much he really trusted you, and it made your heart swell just thinking about it.

And this feeling only increased as the family and the pair of you had arrived at the fireworks show. Instantly, as it often did when out in public, Rodrick felt he needed to keep you close and his arm went around your shoulders as Frank led the family and yourself to the best spot he could find to watch the show. It was a nice change of pace to be with a family who loved each other, deep down anyway, despite the chaos they held in everything they did. 

Once the show had begun and you had settled yourself against Rodrick as you both looked up at the sky lit up with exploding color and shapes, the smile on your face never did fade once. Though, you felt a pair of lips on her head and turned your head up to look at Rodrick, who was looking at you with the out of character softness you had only seen a handful of times.

“You know, you’re probably one of the best things in my life.”

“I think I can agree with that.”