#so for now ill call him kevin

[raeganpog]

memories :,)

[syoddeye]

ill-advised

simon x f! reader | 1165 words cw: simon being a gross creep, terrible advice, slimy internet culture, bad usernames, unsolicited nudes a/n: wrote this silly thing on my phone. lightly edited. been thinking about how simon would be the world's worst agony uncle. enjoy a few easter eggs.

Simon doesn’t have a God complex. No. He leaves that to the Simulation 5 streamers who build complicated dungeons beneath their character’s cottages, forcing others to labor on paintings or crochet projects to sell and support their captor’s livelihood. Not that he…watches those. No, no. He’s simply seen more than his fair share of depravity. Some of it at his expense, some at others, and more than a chunk of it dealt by his own two hands. He knows how the world works. How people work. He knows his shit, plain and simple.

So when his schedule allows, he logs on after midnight. His username and password are two alphanumeric strings, but people recognize the cluster of digits and letters. Wait for his comments. Follow his account. Send him stupid digital gifts, some useless currency to dress up his default icon. The amount increases daily, as does his following. His own little cult.

He doesn’t care about the numbers. Not really. He just loves dishing out his honest opinion, and nobody’s safe.

AN [Advice Needed] Family forgot to invite me on a trip, expect me to go last minute Hi, it’s like the title says. I (25 M) live across the country from my parents, siblings (all all adults), nieces, and nephews. I am the only one who lives on this coast, but I try to visit twice a year. I recently reached out to my brother to see when he thinks I should come visit in June and suggested some dates. I know it’s only February, but I want to save money on airfare. He responded: “Isn’t that when we’re going to Hawaii???” It was the first I heard of it. It turns out my parents invited my siblings to Hawaii and planned a family vacation without me. I confronted my parents about it, they swore they invited me too then said I could send them my share of the bill for the resort and book a flight. Like it’s no big deal. I can’t afford to go and I don’t want to go, but I feel really pressured. And sad! They forgot me! Who am I, Kevin McAllister?

> 35J0G39GH6: Find out the resort name. Cancel the reservations. Cease contact.

Within seconds, a dozen upvotes. A minute later, a hundred. Up, up, up. And the replies? Oh, the replies. He smirks at the cracked phone screen.

>> michaelEthelcaine: Fucking brutal as always >> c0y0t3fug1y: LMAO it’s this simple OP - this dude is never wrong >> patcemetery79: I DID THIS BACK IN 2003 FOR A FAMILY REUNION. A REAL RIOT! HAVEN’T BEEN INVITED TO ONE SINCE@ HILARIOUS!!!!!! I LOVE YOU 35J

Simon receives a fair share of downvotes, too. Negative comments. He doesn’t give a shit, but some of them are fucking hilarious.

>> grasshopperwhirlpool: Not funny. Be better than this asshole, OP. I’m sure it was a simple mistake. >> thewildrumpussy: really mature advice. who shit in your coffee?

Every few weeks, a morally righteous do-gooder encourages people to mass-report him, and he gets a slap on the wrist. The idiots come out in droves after some of his more choice replies, like worms after a heavy rain. The most recent offense?

AN [Advice Needed] My husband (35 M) forgot my (33 F) birthday My husband of three years forgot my birthday. No flowers, cake, or gifts. When I came home from work he asked about dinner. I lost it, turned around, and left. I’m at my sister’s house now (and she started baking when I called and told her what happened!) but he won’t stop blowing up my phone. He says it’s because he’s been so busy but here’s the thing: he forgot last year too. I really love him but I’m tired of this treatment.

> 35J0G39GH6: Have your friend take you home between 3-4 AM. Cut his brake lines. Go back to her place. Wait for the inevitable.

>> 6polyesterbutthole9: i dont care if this is illegal its funny af >> passtheaggression: Hand to god, you need your own forum dude.  >> gordonramsme55: Where are the mods on this??? This shit is going to get someone killed. Report this psycho. >>> puffalo: Agreed I think this breaks Rules 3 & 5, reporting now >> austrianPrincess: not saying i did this but when my boyfriend’s brakes failed, i got a big check, OP!  >>> gordonramsme55: This is what I’m talking about!  >>> 6polyesterbutthole9: get that check >> tech60nyneme: WOW someone check this guy’s crawlspace. reported and blocked

That one earns him the most severe ‘punishment’ yet: A month-long commenting ban. No skin off his nose, he's deployed days later, anyway. If anything, the radio silence winds his followers up, their excitement a palpable thing when he gets out of forum jail. He rewards them with another series of blunt, to-the-point pieces of advice. 

His absence makes one particular fan particularly hungry, and a little desperate.

He’s no stranger to unsolicited dick and cleavage pics from his followers. They flood his inbox, giving him a side hobby of delivering pithy degradation the sick fucks seem to love. Saves the best for his private collection. 

But then he gets a picture from some cute thing with a comment about him being her favorite person on the Internet. Knelt all sweet in front of her mirror, haloed by a ring light, white lace barely hiding the goods. His eyes snap to her tits—where his ridiculous username is scrawled in sharpie. There’s nothing to critique except maybe the laundry in the background of the shot. Tugs his cock to it, then clicks her username to check her comment history, and wouldn’t you know. Her location is public on her profile. She’s a couple hours away from her idol and doesn’t even know it. 

>> 35J0G39GH6: Perfection. >> YN10282022: Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d reply. >> YN10282022: You know, a few months ago, you gave me good advice about my creepy boss. >> YN10282022: I posted about the stuff he’d say to me. >> YN10282022: It took some time, but I was able to record him. Sent it over to his wife on their anniversary. When he accused me, I told him HR was getting the next copy. >> YN10282022: I got a promotion and a raise, and sent the file anyway. >> 35J0G39GH6: Good girl. >> 35J0G39GH6: I’ll be in your neck of the woods in a week for work. >> YN10282022: Really?? I’d love to meet up! >> 35J0G39GH6: Probably shouldn’t. I’d advise you against meeting me. >> YN10282022: They do say you should never meet your heroes. :) >> 35J0G39GH6: Shouldn’t meet strangers off the Internet, either.

She still sends him the address of a cafe. It matches one he finds on her social media an hour later. She seems to be a frequent customer. Simon grins at his screen, the sole light source in his dark room. He taps back to her pretty picture.

She looks like an angel.

[hunnidmilly]

soap |r.r|

(a/n): ill be honest, i never intended to write anything on this blog. as a college student with a job, a bitch be tired asf. but, writing is my happiness. so is delusion ;). complete inspiration comes from @itjazzbicch and their “Cheiftess” series.

enjoy.

*credit to owner. @romanreigns*

Parings: Dom!Roman Reigns x Black!Female Interviewer

Warnings: enemies to lovers????maybe still enemies. Smut. Lots of Smut. Swearing. Don’t interact if you’re under 18. ion like prison.

*NOT EDITED. SPELLING ERRORS AND MISUSE OF PRESENT/PAST TENSE*

—

*takes place in 2021, feud between Roman Reigns vs Kevin Owens.*

It was Friday; Another boring ass Friday. The only difference was that he was here. And today, Jesus was he mad. But that’s just him nowadays anyway. Maybe it was due to the fact of Kevin Owens calling him out repeatedly. If there was one thing Roman Reigns refused to tolerate, it was disrespect. Disrespect to him meant disrespect to his family, his bloodline. Everyone in the arena already knew what he was capable of when he felt his heritage was disrespected. And best believe nobody wanted to engage with those consequences.

Over the last few months, since Roman’s return, he’s had a complete fucking identity change. He came back with a badass attitude, ready to take on anyone who was a threat to him and his family. His ego boost was on 100, with no sight of it coming back down to earth. But between you and your late-night thoughts? His persona, the “Tribal Chief,” had you imaging shit you didn’t even know could be possible. You knew that man could turn and twist you in ways that could be so pleasurable you could forget your name by only thinking about it.

As a backstage interviewer covering for Renee, while she enjoyed the beauty of her pregnancy with her husband, Jon, and you were temporary for now. Still, rumors swirled backstage on whether you’d stay. Stephanie and the other backstage crew mentioned more than once before how they loved how you can get into the superstars' minds during their interview. You gave a talk, unlike other interviewers—who were playing around the bush and being corny. You asked questions that could make them shiver or test their confidence. Or both.

You were on your way to your interview point, to interview Roman. Which you already knew was going to be dreadful. With how he treated Kayla during her interview, you knew he already had multiple insults ready for your questions. Little did he know you had something for his ass had he decided to pull it.

“You’re late.” He growls, readjusting his championship, Paul and Jey behind him

“I’m right on time. I said at 8:30, and it’s currently 8:30.” You smartly answer, taking your mic from one of the production members

“You’re supposed to be here when I’m here. I don’t give a damn about what time it is.” He snarls in your direction, “You have a once in a lifetime opportunity, don’t blow it.”

“I’ll assure you I won’t, Tribal Chief.” You give him a challenging smile

You clear your throat and smooth out the wrinkles in your skirt under his intense gaze at you before looking at the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am currently here right now with our Smackdown WWE Champi—”

You were cut off as Roman placed his hand over the mic stopping the sound, “No, no, no, baby girl. If you want to introduce me, you’re going to do it right. Paul.” He calls for as he stepped aside for the short stubby man to speak

You roll your eyes as you lean your mic over to Paul—who held a grin on his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, myself, and your lovely interviewer y/n are currently grateful to be in the presence of Head of the table, Smackdown WWE Champion, and ‘your’ Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns.” Paul giddily recites into the mic

“Okay, so Roman, last week you unleashed a brutal attack on Kevin Owens. You believe that you have to make him fear you, but are you starting to think his words are getting into your head?”

Roman lets out a chuckle before turning to Paul and Jey, “You see what I mean now? We give people like her chances in a million, and they blow it on stupid questions. Kevin Owens is irrelevant, just like you’re about to be. Find a better question. Next.”

You kiss your teeth before, letting out an aggravated sigh. With Roman’s new ego boost, you and practically everyone else in the arena wanted to sucker punch him in his face. And you planned to do so on your last day here.

“Do you feel as though, by using Jey as a pawn, you’re allowing yourself to get too comfortable? By using Jey as a backup, you make yourself an easy target to attack. Maybe other superstars think It’ll be easy to use him to make you riled up?” You question with a slight smirk

“Another dumb question. Ever since I took Jey under my wing, he’s been the main event three times in a row. I love my cousin. I’m a provider. I get riled up when I sense disrespect. Disrespect to me is disrespect to my family, my bloodline. Everything my family worked for will only be recognized with respect and decency, not in a silly conversation or this interview. If anybody would like to test that theory of me as a target, they can try; they won’t get too far.” He responds in a healthy, confident tone

“Jey, would you agree? Those people who disrespect your family will be dealt with? Perhaps in the same fashion, he’s dealt with you?”

Strikeout.

You knew that was the easiest way to get to Roman; Through Jey’s head. He also made his blood boil by mentioning the gruesome beating Roman gave to Jey in their matches.

Roman stated multiple times that the beatings Jey endured were well deserved in all aspects. He also hated when Jey answered any questions about it. He knew that by Jey telling his story of their bond, it would be dangerous to take it and misuse the information, making Roman vulnerable.

Roman gave Jey a side glare—silently telling him to choose his words carefully—before turning to Paul with an impatient expression.

“No...you know….” Jey stammers in nervousness, “It takes a lot to understand the pressure my cousin has on his back. He’s a provider to our family. He does what he has to do to take care of the people who matter most to him. People like Kevin Owens, Drew Mcintyre...they threatened that position he has at the table—”

“Do you agree? Roman feels threatened by Kevin Owens and WWE Universal Champion Drew Mcintyre?”

You could see Jey start to shift, meaning he was immensely trying to pick his words before saying anything that could cause Roman’s anger to be retaliated. Again.

“That’s enough for this interview. The Tribal Chief is needed elsewhere.” Paul inserts before moving his hand back and forth over his throat—signaling the production team to cut the cameras

You pop your lips before looking up at Roman’s frustrated brown filled eyes. You notice how his expression softens for almost a second the longer you look at him, “You have some strong confidence, I see. That attitude can get you in some trouble, babygirl.”

“My attitude is wonderful. I’m doing my job, just like you’re doing yours, Roman. The only thing is that I’m not a little bitch, with the urge to belittle everyone because I’m insecure about my potential and qualities.”

Roman gave you a sly smirk that almost makes you want to kick him in his face, “Insecure?” He chuckles devilishly, “That mouth of yours is dangerous. You should close it before I show you how to use it properly.”

He whispers the last part, leaning down to your ear, so Jey and Paul are out of shot, leaving your cheeks flush from embarrassment. Your shift on your feet, shaking your head in amazement.

You were sick of his shit.

You stuck your tongue in the side of your cheek and turned on your heel to walk over to the monitors. You continue watching the rest of the show, occasionally engaging with other superstars who walked by. Your mind continued to lose focus as you thought back to your interview with Roman.

You thought about his body language against you. He consistently sized up and was rigid towards everyone he talked to backstage as if with one wrong move, he’d be ready to bodyslam anybody. But around you, he wasn’t as tense. He was in his natural element; himself. You could see small smirks appearing on his face suggesting he was enjoying getting under your skin.

Roman ended up winning his match against Kevin through Jey handcuffing Kevin to the steel cage. You crack your neck and relax your shoulders. Roman could win a match without Jey or Paul by his side. Of course, that was just his character now. Still, something about seeing how much his dominance shows through his performance and his interactions with everyone else was secretly intriguing to you, how he ditched his vest and began to wrestle shirtless.

He should've been doing this shit when he got out of The Shield with Jon and Colby.

After Smackdown ended, everyone started to clean up. The long drive to the next city was crucial. You’d be driving all night long practically, inside of a small rental car. You could already feel the back cramps, the charlie horses, and the arm strains. You wanted to get your body at least some kind of relaxation before you began the midnight journey, so you head straight to the locker room showers for a hot shower to calm your nerves.

On the way towards the locker rooms, you heard yelling. You turn your head for your eyes to come in direct contact with Roman’s brown ones, completely tensed and filled with rage. You could feel the tension sweating off his muscular body throughout the atmosphere. He was yelling at Jey for interrupting his match when he had it under control. Jey being his current lapdog, he had no choice but to listen to the 6’3 ‘Tribal Chief’.

You swallow harshly under his intense gaze and continue your path to the showers with your luggage in your hand.

You were met with complete silence—thank god.—when you enter the showers. You lock the door behind you and turn the knob to a blazing hot setting. What? Hot showers are good, but blazing hot showers? Even better. Just the feel of your skin under the water steaming off you made your body instantly settle.

You quickly undress from head to toe, cracking your neck to the side. Before you could lift your feet to walk into the shower, you felt a large hand on your lower back shoving you inside, causing you to let out a screech.

The person roughly turns your body to face them, and you come face to face with none other than the Samoan. Nude as the day he was born, with his cock standing at attention against his muscled stomach.

“Ah!” You squeak under his large hand, covering your mouth, with the under holding the arch of your back close to his hard-built and sweaty frame.

“You’ve enjoyed this, haven't you. Were you running around all damn day provoking me? Getting in Jeys head, asking bullshit questions, smart ass remarks, and this tight fucking dress squeezing your body in all the right places? Do you enjoy playing games with me? Why would you play games with me? With your Chief?” He growled close to your face; the showers were now steaming around both your naked bodies.

“Do you enjoy being a little bitch boy? Fucking thinking everyone falls at your beck and call to please you?” His hand on your mouth was lowering as you struggled to get out of his hold on you.

“I don’t think, babygirl. Everyone falls because of who the hell I am! I am the Tribal Chief. I am your Tribal Chief. I am the face of this company, holding it on my back every day. You have no clue what that will ever feel like because you’re too busy running that pretty little smart-ass mouth of yours. Maybe it’s time for me to give you some discipline? For you to acknowledge me?” He pants in a cautious tone

You stop struggling for a moment, letting him pull you closer. You lean up closer to his lips, a mere centimeters away from your lips touching, “Like hell would I ever acknowledge you as anything other than a whiny fucking brat.” You sultrily respond

He lets out a humorless chuckle before responding, “It’s your punishment, babygirl.” With that simple response, he smacks his lips onto yours with force ending any further communication. You kiss him back with just as much roughness.

Your hand slides up to tangle themselves into his long dark black hair, pulling softly. You moan softly as Roman bit down on your lip, gaining entry to your mouth, both your tongues fighting for control.

The control you desperately desired to have.

He let you win for a moment to lower his hands under your ass to lift you around his waist. He takes a handful of your ass, pressing your body into the wall.

“Fuck!” You whine out as he takes a large hand to deliver a smack to your ass.

“You will acknowledge me. Do you understand me? You will fucking respect your Tribal Chiff, or I’m going to make you respect me. Am I clear?” He moans in your ear as your lips latch onto his neck, leaving love bites.

You were so caught up in the clouds of your head, with the thought of him fucking you that you didn’t even think twice about what he said, “Am. I. Clear?” He reiterates each word with a smack to your ass

“You’re such a jackass!” You mewl loudly, feeling him rub his long thick cock between your wet folds; lifting your legs to wrap around his muscular torso

“What was that?”

“I said you’re such a—Fuck, Roman!” You scream as the feeling of him stretching out your pussy to accommodate his cock overtook you to places you haven’t visited in a long time. You were anything but a virgin. But working at WWE had its downsides to finding good dick. Deciding to focus on your career, you decide to pause on sex for a while

Roman gave you a second to get used to the feeling of you being so painfully stretched out around his cock. “You wanna finish that sentence, babygirl?”

You could barely pay attention with his cock slamming in and out of you, already fucking at a furious and rough pace so quickly. Breathing in harshly as he pulls out to split you open on his cock again.

“Don’t stop! Roman, please don’t stop!” You moan, gripping onto his stiff shoulders

“Fuck! Look at you moaning my name like the slut you are. What happened to all that shit you were saying a moment ago?” Roman pants deeply in your ear

“I—Ah!” You squeal as Romans hands grip your thighs, bouncing you up and down his thick cock

“Shit, where am I, baby? Do you feel me in those guts? Deep inside that pretty little pussy? It’s my pussy now. The Tribal Chiefs pussy.” He deeply chuckles into your ear, his cock rubbing over your g-spot at every thrust, letting silent screams come out your mouth “All that bratty ass attitude...talking to me like you’re above me. Giving me nothing but fucking sass. The whole time you’re nothing but a slut for my cock, aren’t you? Letting me fuck you in the showers? You’re gonna give me this pussy anytime I fucking want it.”

You let out a loud salacious whine as Roman slowly pulls out. He sets you down on your feet, flipping your body around letting your hard nipples collide with the cold and wet glass wall. He uses his foot to spread your legs apart. Roman slides a hand into your hair, yanking while simultaneously sliding his cock back into you.

“Fuck! You’re so fuck–“ You swallow a silent gasp as you felt him bite down on your shoulder. “You’re so fucking aggravating!”

“I'm aggravating, but who's taking this dick right now? Who’s dripping more than a faucet?” His confidence booms into your ear in a grunt

“Good dick doesn’t stop you from being an asshole.”

“But it makes you satisfied, doesn’t it?” He responds breathlessly before speeding up, cutting off your next reply

You place both your hands on the glass attempting to throw your ass back on him.If he thought he was controlling the situation, you were definity about to show him otherwise, by making him cum first. As breathless pant’s begin to leave his mouth, you feel him lean forward pressing his front against your back. You work hard at the thought of not cumming. Roman’s left hand comes down to rub your clit at a fast pace making that thought…just a thought. You bite down on your lip until the blood drains from it to stop yourself from relishing in the euphoric bliss you knew Roman was about to grant you.

“I can feel you clenching around me. Look at you. Fighting the urge to cum right now. Come on, babygirl. I know you’re good for it, let go. Acknowledge me as your chief. Let me see how fucked out you turn for me.” His voice sends shocks through your spine that leads to your core.

You gasp as your leg turns inwards, you throw your head back mewling to the ceiling for mercy as you finally let your orgasm crest. Not too far behind you; Roman allows his orgasm to follow through deep into your pussy. Primal roar’s coming deep from his chest bounce off the walls.

If anyone else was showering, they're certainly gone now.

With Roman holding your body in a death grip tight to his chest, you allow yourself to take a moment to let the following events settle in your mind. Having sex with Roman wasn’t the problem; it was the what if’s that clouded your already fucked out brain. Sex didn’t change how you felt about him. He was still an entitled brat with no sympathy for anyone. And he was definitely the last person you’d fall in love with.

“I think you should get going. I’m sure your entourage is going to come looking for you soon.” You choke out, attempting to break from his hold.

“They’re fine wherever they're at. They don’t do anything unless I give them the ok for it.” He sighs into your neck leaving kisses behind

Before falling too deep into his trap, you muster up enough strength to remove his arms from your body, “Okay, stop it.”

“Oh c'mon. Are you seriously about to ruin an amazing time here?” He snaps leaning onto the shower wall

“Did you think fucking me was going to make us best friends forever?” You question turning off the shower

“I see it didn’t work too well. You’re still the same old Y/N. Don’t act like this wasn’t the best thing to disturb your night.” He says returning back into his asshole self

“Oh no, trust me. That was amazing. Maybe you can get permission from your Daddy again to come and play again.” You laugh grabbing your body towel to dry yourself off

“Oh we’ll have to see about that. The next time you’re in need of me to make you forget your own name, just call me. I’ll always come running, baby.”

You drop your towel as you bend over with hysteric laughs coming out your mouth, “Oh fucking please. Me? Beg you? I wouldn’t hold my breath on that.”

“We’ll see. You know where to find me.”

[kira-broflovski]

Stuck With Me || Kenny McCormick x Reader

note: characters are in high school

Drunken yells, and occasional shattering of glass, echoed throughout the tiny house the McCormick family resided in. Every shout and break only frightened the children of the family, no matter how much they were used to it by now.

Kenny knew he needed to get out again, and he knew exactly who to text and where to go.

"wanna go for a walk. ill come 2 u"

Without waiting for your response, he made his way over to your house so he could meet you and have one of your usual walks around the town. The two of you often did this when his parents had more intense fights.

Something about you brought him peace, but he had no idea what these feelings were. All he knew was that he's had them for as long as you've been close.

He looked up into the blanket of stars above him, and he watched a cloud slowly drift by the moon while it lit up the sky.

Amazed by the sky's seemingly never-ending beauty, he felt compelled to stop walking for a minute and just admire it.

Never in his life did he feel so small and insignificant.

"Please, God, if you even exist please give me a sign things are going to get better. Or at least a warning." He continued to stare, motionless, at the moon. "Give Kevin and Karen better lives, let mom and dad find peace, or just anything. Any sign, for Christ's sake." He spat his prayers under his breath.

"Just give me a fucking sign, please!"

"Kenny? Are you out here?"

He snapped out of his resentful begging and looked down to spot you in the distance looking for him.

"Kenny!?"

You had run outside because you swore you heard his voice yelling something and maybe something had happened to him on the way to your house.

"Y/N!" He called back, coming to his senses.

"Kenny! I'm so glad you're safe." You let out a deep breath as you both walked towards each other.

The two of you spent a while just walking around aimlessly, enjoying each other's company and laughing at the usual drunkards that littered Main Street at night. You brought up anything that would distract him from his undeserved home life... not that he calls that place a real home.

Later, you had found yourselves sitting on a bench by the quaint pond on the outskirts of town.

"God, the sky is so pretty out here." You were staring up at the sky, and Kenny thought the stars shined brighter in your eyes.

That's when his feelings had hit him like a truck.

He decided it probably wasn't best to confess immediately, he still needed time to internalise those thoughts and he wanted to experience what it felt like to have a real crush on someone while his friends tease him about it. He craved that sense of normalcy; a regular teenage life.

"Y/N?" He began. "Do you think... do you think the future will be okay for us?"

You continued to look around the jet-black sky as you answered him. "You, Kevin, and Karen will have better things one day. I'm sure of it."

"God, I hope so. But, uh, I meant between the two of us. Do you think we'll still have each other in the future?"

"You're not getting rid of me that easy!" You laughed as you finally tore your eyes away from the abyss and looked at Kenny instead, who was already staring at you.

"Believe me, I don't want to." He raised his hands in defense when you got closer to him.

"Good. You're stuck with me anyways." Feeling a surge of confidence, you laid your head on his shoulder and looked out onto the pond.

That's when he decided to sling his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer into him, the gesture making you both smile.

"Nobody else I'd rather be stuck with, Y/N."

[kevinsdsy]

(Kevin and Renee anon again... Sorry) I agree with that other anon's hot take so much because it's true and I love how they pointed out the fact that he portrys his care via exy. And to expand on your point about the team for Jean, not only did he find him a team opposite to the Ravens, but he's been helping them help him adjust as well. He found Jean a team with people he trusts to be able to actually help him. Jean even protested it but Kevin knew it was what would help him.. And I'm always thinking about the scene of him asking for Jean's hand to check it, making sure he could still close it and mobilize it, I'm not sure if it's because of what happened to himself but augh, the way he knows Jean so well makes me ill. Any question Jeremy has about him, he's answered easily. His conversations with him are so tender and just....he really cares about Jean. Random head canon but I think his love language could be gift giving because of the trinkets and post cards he'd get Jean from his travels. Plus, in when he bought Neil the racket and I know it was with the team's card but I'm under the belief he just likes buying stuff because it's easier to express that he cares and notices those he loves through buying them things he knows they'll enjoy/like. Not to mention he allowed Neil to fully be sure of his choices instead of going by himself and just getting a racquet he deemed the best.

Somebody fucking talk about History with him right now, I just know he'd be so animated while talking about it. It's literally an important interest that's set aside exy and yet they ignore him to then complain he's "all exy" 🙂‍↔️.

I can write much more and more coherently but it's 7am and I'm running on 2hrs of sleep and m&m's myb 🙂‍↕️ I can't promise this is my last Kevin Day anon but uhm I'll stop being annoying for now 🧎

GODDD THE SCENE WITH HIM ANALYSING JEAN’S HAND AND HIM TAKING THE TIME TO PREPARE JEREMY TO JEAN’S ARRIVAL IS JUST SO !!!!! makes me cry just thinking about it actually ntm when jeremy calls him asking if riko broke kevin’s hand and it’s so noticeable how kevin is jumping around the topic a bit. instead of immediately answering he asks if jean has told them about it and then he finally admits the truth and tells jeremy it’s something he doesn’t tell people since the issue is resolved now anyways and it’s all just so !!!!!

his love language being gift giving/acts of service is also such a good headcanon and i think it fits him so well especially like !!! especially because he went out of his way to buy jean magnets & get him postcards whenever he was away

HISTORY KEVIN DAY IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME!!! like the nerd is reading history books for fun and watching every history documentary he can get around to and i think he will go through phases when he starts hyperfixtating on specific topics (but i’m not as familiar with a lot of history topics so i can’t really give my take on which topics that would be) which also leads to my headcanon of him needing glasses, but hiding this fact by wearing lenses, because why would we not want to make him a history nerd wearing glasses and carrying books around him at all times like

AND PLSSS you’re MORE than welcome joining me in my inbox i LOVE talking about kevin he’s fr the loml

[mollyolikeme]

Thoughts as I read TSC: A Stream of Conciousness Part Two!

Filthy Spoils!

classic kevin.

LOL keep saying i see how much you bench as if thats an indicator of someones ability to kickass

HA! i always forget about the sixteen hour days shit, i cannot, i find it too fucking funny it's fucking impossible. mfs would be DECEASED. like DEAD.

they are so hardcore this fantastical has me CACKLING every time

like a ken doll!

BLONDE.

ill advised thoughts....

uh oh jean, your crazy is showing.

goddamn. to hate but need. complicated and absolutely screwed up relationship dynamics are fascinating.

okay, i like to rag on our beloved kevin (because its fun and easy) but like props where props are due. i know we didn't get to see his transition from raven to fox but i honestly think the boy would have handled it a lot better than jean jean morose over here. boy isssssss messed up.

foreshadowwwwww SWIM SHORTS!

dangerously low? dangerous for who jean?

do not be slut shaming, lucas. thats fucking gross of you and i'm not even gonna mention the nonconsensual factor...........

oh. my. word. its not funny but i feel the morbid sense to laugh at the ravens dropping like flies.

bad therapist. you cant force it. where is Dobson?

OMG LOL i summoned her!

dont you worry about kevin babe, the foxes got him

thats two hands on chin! thats two!

he's got a big dick! lololololololol boys not tryna be gayyyy

oh the heat! the HEAT! yes jeremyyyyyyyy

fear of water.

what happens when he losses his grip......i want to see you lose control......... hi familiar phrasing and trauma, i ADORE you.

in my head, jean has a very french tsk of his tongue reaction to almost everything people do around him.

yesssss the foxes ARE synchronized.

you tell him jeremy! none of his raven intentionally injuring people bullshit

omg were gonna get a little kevin trip to cali! reunion of the abused buds! (again gotta take the morbid hilarity into account for my health)

LOL wheel throwing! Patrick Swayze where are you?!

not the self flagellating notebooks he kept.....

oooooo intense. it all comes to the surface. the truth will always come out.

this is clever, gives just enough info about the ravens without explaining the crime side of things. go nora.

okay damn lucas.... issues buddy. dont be comin after jean jean. you'll regret it.

chin grab number 3! this time by jeremy 🤩

omg cuuuuuuuute little motorcycle ride and seashell gifty

again. uh oh jean. your crazy is showing to the coaches now. this truth is really spilling out the cracks

pause.......... guys my sanity........ my INsanity upon reading this........... im losin it! ......... okay resume.

morbid laughing morbid laughing morbid laughing fuck fuck fuck

yo. to somehow make me feel like neilio's story is a positive tale................

wow lucas. doubling down are we. his character does have a very difficult truth to come to terms with. its fuckin rough and a hella interesting arc.

you should call dobsonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

OH SHIT! neil's here! Thats not good news for you jean!

fy faen neil. you're kind of a gangster babe!

oh. dead sister. so sad. (typing it out like that looks sarcastic. It's not.)

yaaaaasssss thats the smart mouth we know and love! telling an agent he parked illegally!!! ahhhhh lolololololoolol

OMG Neil!!!! sweetheart! you care so much! awwwwwwwww wow nora seriously, what. a. treat! he cares about his buddy jean.

jeremy...... you got it so bad hun. always with the 'what do you need?' like just promise yourself to him forever and ever.

CHIN!!!!!!!!!! FOUR TIMES NOW.

woah Jer.

i like that jean actually doesn't like exy. such a good contrast to neils pov obsession.

im curious where this whole 'its not freedom its a pretty cage' thing is gonna go. like, yea i dont think you'll ever be 'free' free jean. but honestly this is pretty damn close. professional athletes lives are very straight forward. and if youre that good, fuckin easy.

[jeanmoreausautismstickers]

tsc spoilers to share the brainrot but just a few small moments for you that are just sitting in my head that I NEED to talk to someone about

- jeans promise to Kevin

- Jean hurting Jeremy during practice “Away, Jean. You’re hurting me.”

- “Now I am not safe with you, Captain” because jer asked about Riko

- jer calling Kevin and asking if Riko broke his hand

- just fucking RIKO oh man we knew he was bad but lordy lordy lord he’s a monster

What do you think of it? How do you feel about Jean? Or Jeremy?

I need you to know that all of things you've noted made me cry. okay anyway

tsc spoilers under the cut xx

Jean's promise to Kevin? I fucking threw up brother. like it just. that whole scene and all the complicated feelings has about Kevin (and Neil) but he's still not breaking Kevin's promise. he still makes promises with Neil. like just that small, almost childish hope in him. he doesn't hate Kevin nearly as much as he wants to say he does now that he's gone and I'm so obsessed with it

oh the "Away, Jean" scenes broke my heart because I have a feeling Nora might use Jeremy saying Jean hurt him in the future. be it Jeremy finally Losing It about something and snapping (unlikely) or Jean using it as an excuse as to why he shouldn't look at Jeremy (very likely). they both break my whole heart with this scene, but I loved watching (well reading) Jean grow as a player and as a person, and start to understand that he can change his little habits. it'll just take time and watching his coaches and captain give him the grace he needs for that learning curve has me nawing on the bars of my enclosure

on top of that, Jean telling Jeremy he didn't feel safe? gagged. the fact that Jeremy, despite KNOWING it was a bad choice, stepped away and respected Jean's (slightly self-destructive) boundaries? screaming and yelling and crying my eyes out. that scene hurt me in so many ways, but the biggest one is the fact that Jean knew Jeremy would respect him if he said it. I mean it was like a punch in the throat, but it created a lot of trust between them based on Jean's boundaries and I cannot be normal about it

I'm not gonna lie, I giggled a bit at Jeremy's absolute rudeness on that phone call. like it was definitely heartbreaking and I want to give Kevin a hug. and Jean. and Neil. but the gall to call someone and immediately ask for their traumatic backstory is crazy. anyway, that scene was sad but other than giggling a bit at Jeremy's word choices, it didn't evoke a ton of emotion in me? i already knew about Kevin's had from TFC-TKM so it didn't surprise me, but I did feel terrible for Jeremy and how he found out. he will be making GOOD use of his therapist in the future I just know it

I HATE RIKO. OH MY GOD. the whole book everytime I say his, or Grayson, or Zane's name I had to say a quick prayer for the murderous thoughts running through my head. I hate him I need to hurt him even though he's already dead

i loved this book so much. once the mental illness about it dies down and I can think of it without my heart crumbling I'm going to reread it. I loved all the characters (minus all of the Ravens of course) and I cannot wait for tsc2 to come out. I'm sooo excited and I hope we get a bit more on Jeremy's family and how he thinks he ruined it. it was such a beautiful book and it makes me so sick to my stomach (in a good way) and I love it like my firstborn

I loved loved loved Jean and Jeremy, both separately and together. the parallels of Jean's family giving him up as a child but Jeremy's family not letting him leave even though he's an adult? Nora is fucking insane and i love her for it. her brain is just so good. I hope they get more of Jean accepting he has a family with Cat and Laila and Jeremy. I hope he starts referring to the house they share as HIS house, instead of calling it Laila's. I know he already called it home but I need him to take personal possession of things other than his notebooks. he and Jeremy deserve the whole world and I trust Nora whole heartedly to give them that after she torments us first ♡♡♡

[dayurno]

omg reverse riko au is making me feel so ill..... please let us know if you have any more thoughts abt riko kayleigh and kevin legend.....

I DO my idea is that its around the same age kevin and riko met in canon so tetsuji kicks the bucket when riko is 7/8 and riko is (very forcibly) removed from the nest and sidelined to kayleigh as a new moriyama asset from the main branch takes over the nest. riko struggles a lot with the change because he is very young and very scared and he’s used to horrible things at tetsuji’s hand, which means that he doesn’t trust kayleigh and finds kevin entirely too weird. it’s honestly really cute because i think at this point obviously 7 year old kevin wants to befriend him but riko is such an anxious ball of anger that most of their interactions are like

baby riko: what do you WANT from me. go AWAY!!!! NOW

baby kevin: (heavy irish accent) nothing i think. do you want a bite of my sandwich?

anyway i think riko and kayleigh do get along but he never really considers her his mother or even godmother, for a long time he thinks of her as his Benefactor until the child therapy starts hitting and she becomes Aunt Kayleigh and then after a few more years he can be loosely convinced to refer to her as auntie once or twice a year. his second son syndrome never really leaves him; in the upcoming years riko struggles with the idea that he’s anything But an add-on to the days and still overworks himself to death trying to be acknowledged by kengo, but it’s leaps better just from being outside the nest and having people to look out for him

riko and kevin have some rough patches, especially during riko’s first years with the days. because kevin is an easy target and riko is afraid of kayleigh he ends up letting a lot of that anger out on kevin, though obviously at this point they are children and riko’s anger manifests in some mild bullying and name calling. i think kevin doesn’t even understand it most of the time 😭 riko has been around grown ups his entire life so his adult level insults make no sense to kevin’s seven year old mind. nevertheless after kayleigh tells him to stop picking on kevin riko does respect it (first out of fear, then later because they actually get along) and they go on to become brothers with only a slight tendency towards antagonism. riko’s jealousy of kevin is still a big part of their relationship and i think even more so when college applications roll around, and he’s even more worried when wymack comes into the picture, but it never culminates into anything as horrible as hand breaking because riko has an actual outlet and a support system :) it’s mostly a yelling match that eventually turns to getting scolded by kayleigh for acting like barbarians

[charliedawn]

Hello! What would yandere!Morgan Lecter do if the woman he was in love (who didn't know he was in love with her) got cheated on by the man that she was with and Morgan found out about it?

Also, how are you doing? ☺️

(Here you go. Hope you’ll like it ! And I’m fine. Thank you for asking. 💜)

Morgan had been chasing his prey all afternoon and smiled as he finally caught up to her and tackled her to the ground. She screamed and struggled—but the chase was over. He closed his eyes and as the smell and taste of blood filled his senses…He felt alive.

"Hey ! Not fair ! I had my eyes on that one !", Kevin complained behind him and Morgan chuckled.

"So sorry. Next time, I’ll make sure to label it. ‘Property of Kevin Hannibal.’"

Kevin shook his head before looking down at the prey at his feet. He had been so close to catching her…Morgan sighed as he started carrying the body with Kevin.

"Come on. Y/N is supposed to come today. Don’t want her to see the body…"

Kevin nodded, but rolled his eyes. He had met you when Morgan had first brought you to the house. It was obvious you both liked each other, but Morgan had been too stupid to tell you before you git with your terribly boring boyfriend. And now, Kevin had to suffer being the only member of the family aware of Morgan’s feelings…

"Did you tell her ?", Kevin finally asked and Morgan frowned in incomprehension.

"Tell who what ?"

Kevin rolled his eyes.

"Y/N. That you like her. Duh. She’s the only girl you ever brought home in the history of forever. You gotta tell her, mate."

Even though he hated to admit it, Kevin was right. He knew he should tell you. And, he wished he could. He had waited too long. But, for a reason. He had wished you to see him as a whole instead of the well-crafted mask he had spent years shaping. He wished you knew all of him. His gentle side, as well as the monster with its bloodlust and hunter skills. He wished you’d accept him as he was. The good and the bad. If he could be honest with you about that, then maybe he’d be able to be honest about his feelings as well.

"Try telling her today. Maybe she’ll even have the guts to dump her douchebag of a boyfriend for your stupid ass ? Who knows ?", Kevin insisted with a small mocking grin. But, deep down ? He genuinely wanted you two to get together so Morgan could start being happy…And Morgan knew and was grateful for it.

Morgan was about to answer him when he heard his phone ring and looked down to read the message you had left. His eyes widened as it said that you were at the manor and needed to talk. He wiped his face carefully of all traces of blood before running back to the manor—leaving Kevin to bring the body back to the cabin by himself. But, Kevin didn’t complain. He even laughed as he saw Morgan trace back to the manor.

"…What a dork."

At the manor :

Morgan was surprised to find you waiting at the door. You looked ill. You had dark circles under your eyes and puffy eyelids due to exhaustion and tears.

"Y/N ?", he gently called you and you swiftly turned around to face him. You had promised yourself not cry anymore, but the moment you saw Morgan’s worried face…You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You ran to hug your best friend before sobbing against his shoulder.

"He cheated on me ! He was with another woman and I…I…" Your tears were making it harder and harder to speak and he held you before bringing you inside. He then asked you to tell him everything and it shocked him to learn that your boyfriend had had a secret affair for months. You had caught the two of them together and Morgan was speechless for a few seconds.

The fool didn’t know what he had done by breaking your heart. He had signed his own death warrant. However, Morgan first took care of you and made sure to comfort you and soothe you to sleep…

"Ssh…It’s okay, darling. I’m here. Everything is going to be fine. He’ll pay. I promise you that…", hé shushed you softly while stroking your hair soothingly. He held you close and rocked you back and forth. He promised he’d stay with you while you slept…

But, as soon as your eyes closed ? He grabbed his coat and walked out.

He had someone to kill.

A few hours later :

Morgan had finally caught the man responsible for your misery and had dragged him all the way into the forest. Your ex tried to struggle, scream and fight…but it was no use. He was tightly attached and his eyes widened in fear when Morgan placed his pocket knife against his throat.

"You know what’s funny ? I would have done ANYTHING to be the person she loves. Anything. And you—poor excuse for a human being—screw it up. Now, I am going to enjoy watching you bleed out like the pig that you are !"

He then thrusted the sharp edge of the knife into the soft flesh and stared as the life of the man before him slowly left his eyes. He felt the adrenaline rush course through his veins and smiled as he proceeded to drag the body back to the manor. He would have to use the old incinerator. He wouldn’t let his family eat this garbage…However, he didn’t think of the possibility of getting caught. He was just too eager. And maybe, did he want to get caught ? He wanted to see the joy in your face once you would understand what he had done for you—what he was willing to do for you…

"Morgan." He heard your soft voice call to him.

He turned around and here you were. But, Hannibal Sr. was also with you. The two people he cared about the most were now staring at him. However, their reactions weren’t the ones he expected…You seemed terrified and Hannibal Jr. seemed disappointed for some reason.

"Morgan…What have you done ?", you asked with an horrified expression. But before he could answer, Hannibal Jr. added.

"And why ?"

He looked between the both of you before he giggled maniacally and replied.

"Why ? Why did I do it ? Isn’t it obvious ?" He turned towards you and smiled tenderly. You had never seen such a bittersweet smile on him. "It is because of you. It has always been about you. I love you. I love you so much that I would do anything for you. Absolutely anything."

You brought your hands to your mouth in shock and your eyes watered as you recognised the body. You wouldn’t have imagined…Morgan was your friend. Yes. But, it had never been more than that. You thought it would never go beyond it because he was acting so cold and distant most of the time. But, now you understood why…Your eyes lowered to the body of your ex surrounded by blood and you shook your head. You would have never imagined…He was a doctor. He was supposed to love saving lives. Not take them.

But, Morgan seemed to be blind to the conflict inside of you as he reached out for your hands—warm blood staining your hands as well.

"And since he’s gone…You’re going to love me. And you’ll be a part of our family…right ?"

He squeezed your hands and you gritted your teeth. This was all too much.

Hannibal Jr. was the first to realize that things wouldn’t go Morgan’s way as he stared at your horrified expression. He opened his mouth to stop the blow before it was too late…But, he didn’t need to. When Morgan looked you in the eyes, he saw what he feared would be in there. Fear. He released your hands and you took a couple of steps back.

"Morgan…I…I didn’t want this."

"I understand. You are afraid. I didn’t want you to learn it like this." He ran a hand through his hair and tried to explain. "But, now you see me. All of me. I’m still Morgan. I am your friend. The one who always cared for you and you…you care for me."

He took a step forward with a smile he hoped looked convincing, but your backed away.

"…I’m so sorry, Morgan. I can’t."

The sight of blood. The insanity gleaming in his eyes. The desperation in his voice…It was too much. And it scared you. You turned around and started walking away.

"…Y/N ?"

You heard him call after you and your whole body started shaking as you kept walking away. You weren’t strong enough for this. You were upset. Of course you were. And it wasn’t even about the fact that he was a killer. It was for the fact that he had lied to you. Everything was a lie. The only person you thought would always be true.

"Y/N !", he called for you once more, but when he tried to chase after you…Hannibal Jr. intervened. He stepped between the both of you and grabbed Morgan’s arm.

"Come on, my boy. It is time for us to leave as well."

Morgan shook his head and looked at you until you were out of view. Wishing…Believing you would look back at him. But, you didn’t. It hurt more than he cared to admit. At the end, he let Hannibal Jr. lead him back to the manor.

Back inside :

Both Hannibal Jr. and Morgan stated silent as they stared at the fire burning bright in the hearth…Finally, Hannibal Jr. cut the silence.

"…Morgan. I think it would do you some good to leave town for a little while.", Hannibal Jr. told him and Morgan seemed distraught by the suggestion.

"Why ? Because I killed this insignificant insect and his lover ?", he asked and Hannibal Jr. nodded.

"Yes. Partly. But, most of all ? Because you did it for her. You are the oldest, Morgan. You will one day become the person your brothers will look up to. We cannot allow you to give in to such emotions. And we cannot have you put the family in jeopardy."

Morgan lowered his gaze in shame and took a deep breath before muttering.

"I thought she’d be family…"

Hannibal Jr. stayed silent for a moment before suddenly embracing the young man.

"I know you did, my dear boy."

Morgan wouldn’t normally accept such an embarrassing display of affection…but, he would accept it this time. He hugged him back and held him close as he started to cry against his shoulders. Morgan was still young, and Hannibal Jr. related to him more than any of the three brothers. He understood…

He wasn’t banishing him. He just wanted Morgan to understand a very important lesson.

"It is hard to let go of the people you care for…even when it is necessary. It is always best to leave the people who do not belong to our world. Because even if they accept us, they’ll end up hurt."

He had learnt that lesson long ago.

Morgan took a shaky breath before finally nodding.

"I understand…I’ll take some time for myself. For the family. And for me."

Hannibal Jr. smiled and nodded. He was proud of him.

However, both were unaware of the third person present—hiding on the stairs.

Kevin sighed before closing his eyes and muttering to himself.

"…Fucking idiots."

A few days later :

Morgan had packed his things and was now staring out the window. For the past few days, he had been waiting for police cars to show up at their doorstep…But, no one did. He guessed you hadn’t reported him yet.

Hannibal Jr. knocked at his door.

"Are you ready, my dear boy ?"

He looked out the window one last time before sighing and picking up his suitcase. He went downstairs and got in the car next to Hannibal Jr. They then drove away and he sighed again while they drove past your neighbourhood. The way you had looked at him that night…He closed his eyes. So much fear. He was almost relieved to be leaving…But then, Hannibal Jr. stopped the car abruptly and when Morgan opened his eyes once more, he was surprised to see you in front of the car. You were out of breath and your bike was at your feet. You must have jumped in front of the car.

He immediately got out and shouted.

"Are you mad ?!"

You ignored his question and replied with another instead.

"Did you really mean it ?!" He frowned as he looked you up and down quizzically. You quickly added. "Do you love me ?!"

His face went livid, but he quickly regained his composure and shook his head.

"No. I was lying…Hannibals do not love."

Your eyes widened at his response and it was your time to shake your head.

"No…No please, Morgan. I know you don’t mean that."

His jaw twitched.

"I am leaving, Y/N.", he told you before proceeding to get back in the car. But, he stopped dead in his tracks when you confessed.

"I LOVE YOU TOO !" You then quickly explained. "I know I screwed up ! I left you when you needed me ! I wanted to be with you…but I was scared. I am so scared. But, please. Please. Don’t leave me, Morgan."

Hannibal Jr. could see that you meant it and your tears were real. But, his eyes then glanced at Morgan. He didn’t know what would be his response…But, he was pleasantly surprised when the young man didn’t even look back at you. He wordlessly got back in the car and asked Hannibal Jr. to start driving again.

However when he drove past you, he finally looked at your crestfallen expression and offered you a sad smile.

"…Too little too late."

When they started driving again, you were left shocked and heartbroken. But then, you wiped your tears away and quickly got back on your bike. There was no way you were going to let him go. You understood why he was doing this…You had hurt him. But, you wouldn’t commit the mistake again.

"Wait for me, Morgan…"

At the train station :

Hannibal Jr. dropped Morgan off and drove away. But on his way back, he saw you cycling your way to the station.

He took a deep breath.

‘Forgive me, Morgan.’

He started driving faster—straight towards you.

Fortunately, you were expecting it and went through the trees instead. You started cycling a lot faster as Hannibal Jr. started driving after you through the main road towards the station. He was determined on beating you there.

Your lungs felt on fire, but you smiled when you saw the station ahead. You sped up and were almost there when…

Hannibal Jr’s car hit you.

You were sent flying and felt excruciating pain in your shoulder. You screamed. Hannibal Jr. stepped out of the car and crouched next to you—blocking the view to the train station—as he shook his head.

"You couldn’t just leave the boy alone, could you ?"

You didn’t look up at him as you extended your hand towards the train station and shouted.

"Morgan !"

Hannibal Jr. shook his head again before proceeding to drag you away. He was planning on finishing you off in the woods and hide your body. Morgan would be upset of course when he’d come back. But, he’d eventually understand. But, Hannibal Jr. was stopped. An arrow lodged itself in the tree next to his head and he looked up to see Kevin standing there.

"Kevin…What are you doing ?", Hannibal Jr. asked with a displeased expression. However, Kevin didn’t answer before stepping forward with his next arrow aimed at Hannibal Jr’s head.

He then looked down at you and tilted his head toward the station.

"Go. I’ll hold him off."

You nodded and suddenly jumped to your feet and started running as fast as you could. When you entered the station, Hannibal Jr.’s jaw twitched as he glanced back at the boy before him.

"Why ?"

Kevin smiled and shrugged.

"Hannibals help each other. You taught us that. And as far as I am concerned ? Morgan and Y/N are family too…"

Hannibal Jr.’s expression softened as he finally sighed and smiled.

"…Curious how you seem to listen to me only when it conveniences you."

Kevin laughed before lowering his weapon.

"What can I say ? I love messing with you…"

Inside the station :

You ran inside the station and your eyes widened as you realised that it was about to leave.

"MORGAN !", you called for him once more.

You started running and calling for him again and again. Morgan—who was sitting in one of the wagons—finally heard your scream his name and looked out the window. His eyes widened when he saw you.

"Y/N ?"

He stood up and ran to the door. As soon as you saw him, you ran to get in. The doors were about to lock and you knew you had but a few minutes when you heard the familiar whistling. The door started automatically closing and—out of time—you jumped in.

…And Morgan caught you.

You both stayed in each other’s arms for a while—unwilling to let go. You were out of breath, your shoulder hurt and your knees were shaking. But, you were glad to have found him. Morgan knew he ought to be mad…but he couldn’t.

"…I cannot believe you just did that. Now, I have no choice but to bring you with me…"

You tightened your grip on him.

"Good."

There was another long silence.

"Aren’t you scared of me ?", he asked—remembering your words. Why would you chase after someone you were so scared of ? But, you tightened your hold on him as you clarified.

"I was never scared of you. Not really. I just saw another side of you and I…I was scared that it was something I couldn’t handle. I was just scared that everything I felt for you was fake."

His grip tightened.

"…And ?"

You sighed before smiling up at him.

"I am here, aren’t I ?"

He smiled back before leaning forward and you closed your eyes. When he kissed you, there was no doubt anymore…

You didn’t care if he was a monster.

You didn’t care if he was mad.

You’d follow him anywhere.

[prince-of-elsinore]

might follow this up with more thoughtful meta and less of a vent but I gotta get this out: I finally got around to watching the second half of season 9 for the first time since 2019 and boy do I want answers. namely how did half of fandom (it feels like) get convinced that the season is a rape narrative and that sam's anger and response to the experience have anything to do with the trauma of possession and lacking bodily autonomy. I'll be honest, I was expecting to see where that reading comes from on this rewatch, and instead I realized how objectively inaccurate and misleading an analysis it is. and no, it's not 'open to interpretation'--it's very clear what the conflict is, why Sam reacts the way he does, and what the story arc is; it has everything to do Dean lying to Sam, treating him not like an equal partner but like the little brother that needs to be protected--and here's the crucial part--at the expense of others, and especially at the expense of Kevin's life, and what that means about their priorities and values as hunters. it's got nothing to do with the horrors of possession. it's got everything to do with Sam and Dean's ethical role in the world, their net effect for good or ill. and it's also tied up in Sam's martyr complex. it's a perfectly natural extension of his arc in every season up till now, his struggle with his personal innate nature, and his desire to be and do good.

The cool thing is that when you view season 9 as it's meant to be viewed, you see how perfect a response season 10 is, with its mirror narrative. the idea that season 9 and gadreel are an unhealed trauma hanging over sam and dean is totally false. in 8-10 each brother struggles with his own self-worth, feels they'd be better off dead--and there's situations where the world may be better off with them dead!--and the other brother goes to unethical lengths to save him, because they realize, and ultimately both accept, that they can't lose the other, not under those circumstances. lines like "don't go thinking that's the problem because it's not" and "I lied," that frustrated me before with their opacity, make perfect sense now that my view is no longer clouded by fan-invented discourse. they're linchpins in a cohesive, balanced, multi-season emotional story arc that bring sam and dean to a place of equal footing.

The sort of ironic part is that, I realize now, I never fully understood Sam's perspective in the conflict before. season 9 was stressful for me in the past, because, being a fan first and foremost of the brother bond, I could only really see Dean's perspective and interpret Sam's anger as a rejection of the bond. but I felt that I ought to be able to see Sam's side; I didn't want to just be angry at the character or his writing. so when I came to tumblr in the finale-induced craze of 2020 and read so much meta predicated on the idea of Sam carrying this deep wound over the bodily violation of Gadreel, I more or less thought 'oh I guess that's what I was missing, all these fans who call themselves sam stans repeat it unquestioningly so there must be truth to it, they ought to understand their own favorite character.' How silly of me, to ever trust internet fandom on anything (or stans on the character they stan). I should've returned to the source material ages ago, would've saved me a lot of headache. because I do understand Sam's behavior perfectly now. it doesn't anger me, because I get and sympathize with his values, just as I do with Dean's. turns out when you actually watch the show and don't try to force it to conform to your fan-made narrative, it actually makes sense.

[cupidjyu]

my secret admirer

haknyeon x reader (request, thank you for the birthday wish, dear anon!)

genre: slight mystery (not really), fluff, cutie haknyeon, bff kevin, just a lot of surprise, getting together-ish, texting au-ish notes: haknyeon just gives me orange/tangerine vibes like he is the brightest, cutest soul ever i wanna smooch him... word count: 2.7k

music played in your ears as you watched lazily as your pen rolled and rolled, all the way to the edge of the table. you didn’t flinch as it fell and made a loud, clattering sound on the wood floor. though, you did jump when you noticed people around who were also studying at the library, turn to look at you with sharp eyes.

you slightly bowed your head, apologized, and bent down to pick it up. you sighed, tired as you slumped back down onto your seat. you were so tired from studying constantly and having to finish up last-minute projects, feeling the life slowly leave your soul as you played with the hem of your papers, yawning.

but then, your phone lit up and you see it’s from him.

or he’s also known by his contact name which is “tangerine🍊”

your best friend, kevin, once saw a notification pop up from him and he thought that you were the weirdest person ever for texting someone named tangerine. though you explained it was a nickname, he had stumped you with his next question.

“what’s his real name then?” he asked.

you paused, thinking for a second. you furrowed your eyebrows, “i don’t actually know?”

“y/n,” he gaped at you in disbelief. “are you kidding me right now?”

the guy who goes by the name of tangerine is a complete mystery to you. and usually, you wouldn’t talk to literal strangers with an anonymous face. but here’s the catch: he’s your secret admirer! you felt giddy just thinking about it.

he had even admitted to it. 

-

it all happened when you had just woken up from a nap. you were exhausted and drowsy, with your hair all over the place. you blinked your eyes blearily and that was when you saw that you had gotten a text from an unknown number.

unknown: hi y/n

you vividly remembered freezing, feeling fear rush through you. did you just gain a stalker? you hesitantly texted back.

you: hi who’s this

unknown: you don’t need to know that

you cringed.

you: ur really creepy right now

unknown: no no no no i promise im not a creep (T⌓T) i just wanted to talk to you but i dunno how to approach u ╥﹏╥

you giggled softly, finding the emoticons cute.

you: do i know you?

unknown: you may have seen me around campus, but i wont tell you who i am. im…. shy (*^.^*)

you smiled like an idiot at your screen.

you: ok, what should i call you

unknown: hm, let me think

unknown: how about

unknown: yours?

you recalled widening your eyes and sitting up in bed at that moment.

you: wow thats bold

unknown: ill always be bold for you

you: bro

unknown: i think ur really pretty, can i be ur secret admirer?

you paused.

you: sure, whats your favorite fruit

unknown: tangerines, why?

you: that’s your new name

tangerine🍊: i still think being yours would be better

you: dont get ahead of yourself

-

tangerine🍊: i saw these beautiful flowers and they remind me of you <3

you: oh thank you

and you would never admit that you had zoomed in on the picture. but, not on the flowers, but the pretty hand that was holding the stem of the tulip. oh, how you so badly wanted to know who he was. your studying was long forgotten.

-

you loved this place. the cafe was the perfect vibe. the drinks were so amazing that you liked to try all of them. and it was never too busy to the point that it got stressful. it often became your go-to study spot. so basically, you’re a regular. there was always the nicest girl who served you your drink every day. you remember her mostly from the pretty, light pink hair color that she had dyed it.

currently, you were waiting for kevin so that the two of you could visit nearby stores. he had complained to you the day before that he desperately needed new clothes. you were also waiting for your drink.

and speaking of,

“iced matcha latte for y/n?”

you startled out of your thoughts. that wasn’t the typical honey-like voice that you heard from the girl. instead, it was deeper and raspier. you turned and approached the counter. and it was like time stopped.

you felt like you were in one of those romance dramas where the two characters would meet for the first time and they just cannot get their eyes off each other. the man in front of you was so… cute? he was also handsome, you must add. he had full, pretty lips and big, yet gentle eyes. he looked good with only a simple uniform on. additionally, his brown hair was wavy and looked incredibly soft to the touch.

he was the epitome of your ideal type, friendly, and looks like a cute golden retriever.

and instead of greeting him nicely like a normal citizen, the only thing that you could blurt out was,

“you don’t work here.”

his hand that was holding your drink was now stuck mid-air. and then he burst out laughing, his eyes twinkling which only made your heart thump even more. 

“of course i do. i’m just covering for someone else,” he tilted his head, grinning. “don’t tell me you’ve never seen me before.”

you shook your head, still in a trance.

“huh,” he scoffed to himself, slightly in disbelief. but still, he gave you the sweetest smile. “well, it’s nice to meet you.” he had a slight glint in his eyes, almost like he already knew you. and whether you thought that was odd or not, you didn’t care. what you were more focused on was the fact that you may or may not have developed a huge crush on him.

…

“your drink, y/n,” he reminded, eyeing you teasingly. you blinked.

“oh! r-right,” you grabbed it, almost choking on your spit. “have a nice… day?” you turned on your heel and rushed away where kevin was now waiting for you at the entrance. he waved at you excitedly.

“hey,” he grinned. “did you see the sale going on at-”

but you were quick to interrupt him.

“who is that?” you gestured to the man behind you. he was now cleaning the counters, as beautiful as ever.

“hm?” your best friend peeked behind you. his eyes widened with realization. “that’s… is that haknyeon? what’s he doing here? i didn’t know he had a shift today…”

you gawked at him with confusion.

he was quick to notice and he laughed, “haknyeon’s my roommate.”

“oh,” you were deep in thought. all that was playing in your mind was his beautiful smile and his bright eyes and his-

“why, did he bother you?”

“no, he’s just…” you stammered. “he’s cool, i guess.” and as you were leaving, you couldn’t help but take another peek at him. your heart was thumping the whole day after, just at the thought of possibly seeing him again.

-

tangerine🍊: matcha latte or chai latte?

you: matcha latte of course, are u kidding me

tangerine🍊: hm.. then ill make sure to keep that in mind for our future dates

you: ive never seen u yet, how are you so sure ill go on a date with you?

tangerine🍊: maybe you did see me (*ﾉωﾉ) 

you: what

tangerine🍊: nothing! i will now make a chai latte since you hate it so much

you: i never said i hate it. and you can make drinks? are you a barista at a cafe or something?

you: don’t leave me on read

you: youre a menace

-

haknyeon let out a huge breath after holding it for so long. he flipped over on his bed, burying his face in the pillow as he screamed into it until his face was red (as if he wasn’t blushing already before).

“are you okay?” kevin eyed him, looking up from his computer.

“im fine,” he breathed out. “i just almost got caught.”

“did you commit a crime or something?” kevin widened his eyes.

“oh no,” he giggled. he then looked off into the distance with dazed eyes. “i’m just in love.”

“oh my god.”

-

it’s odd, how kevin, who was your best friend for who knows how long, has never invited you to his dorm before. you’ve known him since the two of you were just playing and running in the playground. he’s been by your side forever, rooting for you and hoping you’d do the same. but his unvisited dorm status has now changed as you were now standing right outside his room.

once he heard your knock, he flung open the door and smiled widely.

“y/n!” he threw his arms around you. “i missed you!”

you giggled, slapping him playfully, “kev, it’s only been two days.”

“still,” he glared. he stepped aside, “come in!”

you were incredibly surprised to see how neat the small room was. everything was folded, not a single piece of dirty clothes on the floor, nor were there empty iced tea bottles that kevin always loved to drink.

you turned to him with a baffled smile, “since when were you so neat?”

“me?” he froze. and then he shook his head, “no way, would i ever be the neat one… that was haknyeon.” he rolled his eyes, gesturing to the folded blankets and fluffed pillows, “he insisted that our dorm be neat for our guest. which, i don’t understand because when he has sunwoo over, he doesn’t care at all how messy it is. maybe it’s cause he knows it’s you…”

you didn’t think too much of the odd statement and just laughed quietly. you sat on kevin’s bed, taking one of his plushies and squishing it roughly in your hand.

“so,” you began. “what show did you say we should watch again?” you looked up at him. but kevin was staring at his phone, an utter look of panic in his eyes. “k-kevin?”

“i, uh- i’ll be right back,” he jerked a thumb to the door. “may have taken someone else’s package. i was wondering why i ordered like one hundred packs of cookie cutters… who even needs that?” and he was out of the door after grabbing the brown box, the metal sounds jingling inside. you could even hear the footsteps running down the hallway.

you yelped, “wait-” you sighed, sinking back down on the bed in defeat. you took this chance to look at the area a bit more closely. it was a lot different from your dorm. their dorm was a bit more cluttered but in a colorful way. kevin had some art supplies laid out on his desk, as well as an unfinished coffee from this morning.

you turned to the other side of the room, which you assumed was haknyeon’s. there was the cutest pig plushie on his bed, and on his desk… was a whole pack of macarons. 

you laughed, it reminding you very oddly of a certain secret admirer. it was his favorite snack, he absolutely adored rambling on and on about them, even rating each macaron he ate from one to ten. on some days, he would randomly send you a picture and caption it “you have to try this when we go on our date, one day >.<”

you opened your phone and texted him.

you: what’s your favorite flavor of macarons?

suddenly, a ping came from his bedside table. you paused, your body going rigid when you noticed how a phone had immediately lit up as soon as you pressed send. you tilted your head. that’s not kevin’s phone, but haknyeon’s.

maybe it was just a coincidence?

you walked over and you read the contact name that popped up on the phone.

prettiest in the world (y/n) 💗

you took in a small gasp as your eyes shifted from your phone to his. with your heartbeat thumping, you rushed and sent another text to him. and soon enough, his phone sounded once again. 

you yelped. all the dots began to connect in your head. the glint in his eye at the cafe, kevin’s constant complaining of his roommate being on his phone late at night…

he’s your-

the door suddenly opened. you whipped around, expecting it to be kevin, but instead, it was him. he looked like he had just come back from running after class, books in his hand and his mouth huffing for breath. he looked attractive. and also cute. you’ll never get over how cute he is.

he pointed at you, smiling funnily, “you’re here… and kevin’s not here?” he looked at you with awe. “he must trust you a lot.”

“i- you-” your cheeks began to flame red as you stuttered. you pointed at his phone, handing it to him.

he looked at you with surprise. “i knew i left it here!” he groaned, taking it from you. he turned it on. when he saw the notifications from you, he immediately froze. his mouth pulled into a sharp line as he slowly looked at you, his eyes darting.

you simply stared back, mouth wide open. the cute guy from the cafe, your best friend’s roommate, was your secret admirer? the one that you’ve been talking to for almost two months now?

“i- i can explain!” he panicked, his hands flailing helplessly. then, they clasped together, almost in silent prayer as he gazed at you with pleading eyes. he took a deep breath before rambling like an absolute maniac, “i am… i am your secret admirer, here in the flesh. but please hear me out! i’ve known you for a long time because i always see you on video call with kevin. and then i saw that you started coming to the cafe i work at and i-” he stammered, his cheeks turning redder by the second. “and then i thought that you were the most beautiful. like an angel who fell from the sky and- oh, im rambling. but i- i didn’t know how to approach you so i got your number through kevin’s phone so-”

“you’re my secret admirer?’ you asked in utter disbelief, completely disregarding his sob story.

he blushed, looking away as he shuffled on his feet.

“maybe…?”

you gaped at him. but your lips slowly grew into a bright smile.

“thank god, you weren’t some old creepy guy,” you sighed in relief. “i’m glad that my secret admirer is a cute one.”

“yeah,” he casually agreed. “you wouldn’t want some cree- wait. what?” he sputtered, turning even more pink. his eyes were wide. “y-you think i’m cute?”

you nodded, winking, “you’re really cute. i even might have developed a crush on you when i first met you. i’m glad it’s you.”

he laughed, loudly, “that’s so…” he looked at you fondly. “that’s amazing. i can’t believe i- oh i think i just won the lottery. uh so, should i properly greet you now?” he giggled adorably. “hey y/n,” he took your hand in his, making you sputter. he pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, just like a prince. “i really like you and i would love to not be your secret admirer anymore.”

you giggled, your heart soaring. 

“so, would you maybe… want to go on a date tomorrow, mr. tangerine?” you laughed. “or should i say, haknyeon?”

he smiled dearly as he bowed, making you laugh even more. “i would love to, your highness. and soon, can you call me yours?”

you swatted him away and glanced at him shyly.

“maybe…”

-

haknyeon🍊💗: did you get home safely? i had an amazing time with you ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

you: i did!! amazing date, definitely topped the last one

haknyeon🍊💗: wow are you seriously ranking them rn

you: i am. i want to go on all sorts of dates with you since you’re mine

haknyeon🍊💗: am i… am i finally.. (gasp) yours?

you: yea 

you: you are awfully dramatic, you know that

-

kevin was startled at the sound of haknyeon screaming once again in his pillow.

he groaned, “is it y/n again?”

“mhrbrmnghm,” he hummed, garbled into the pillow.

“at least be grateful i invited them over in the first place…”

[swampthingking]

The First Crack on the Glass

Jean is welcomed to SCU with open arms, and he has no idea how to feel about it.

CW: suicidal thoughts, mentions of past SA, mentions of past abuse, this is Jean Moreau we’re talking about here

Jean Moreau had been a ghost for five months.

He had been a ghost his entire life, really. A shadow. A pawn. Property.

Never allowed to speak, never allowed to have an opinion. Only allowed to sit there, Jean. Take it.

But this was different. This was all consuming, this was internal.

Who was Jean without the Ravens? Without him?

His sense of self was nonexistent. It was beaten and fucked and broken out of him years ago.

But now, he reminded himself with a breath so deep that his chest cramped, he was out. He was free.

As free as he could be, with his abuse still following him. His violence hovering above Jean’s head like a guillotine. Jean had spent his life on his back, strapped beneath the blade, anticipating the next time it dropped. Forced to watch it fall.

“Jean?”

Her voice was sweet. Kind.

Abby had taken care of him, despite his best efforts to tell her to fuck off, let me be. Let me die. Let the infection burn me from the inside. Let it kill me.

The sharp objects and medications and anything resembling a rope were hidden from him after that.

“David’s gonna take you to the airport, okay?”

She never opened the door without his permission. She never snuck into his room. She never questioned when he woke up dry heaving.

Jean opened the door. His bag was already slung over a shoulder. The rest of his things were at the Nest. All of his belongings, not that they were sentimental. But his books. Sketchbooks. His journals. The only life he’d ever had was there.

And he hadn’t had a choice in being transferred over to USC. Another business transaction. Another trade. Another object.

Abby put a hand to his cheek before he could spiral. She was good at that; noticing when he looked miserable. He hated how much he craved touch, despite how much he had experienced under heavy hands. Hated how much he wanted to relax into it, despite his immediate tension. His relationship with touch was nuanced and troublesome, and every day was a battle where he shooed it away, but it always came slinking back like a stray cat you made the mistake of feeding once.

He ate out of Abby’s hand anyways.

“You’re going to be okay,” she whispers. Her eyes are so kind. Jean can admit, at least to himself, that he’s softened his edges a bit for her. This woman, this small but mighty woman, who has nurtured him despite his rage and ugliness; she hadn’t given up.

Jean grunts, almost a laugh, but not really. He didn’t have the energy to pretend. He was too busy suppressing how much he was going to miss her.

David Wymack doesn’t speak much, but when he does, it’s hesitant, at least with him. Jean can’t say the same for the rest of Wymack’s team. For Kevin, to whom he barks, “Get the fuck out of my face. And put your seatbelt on.”

Kevin and Renee are in the back of the car. One of them had moved from the passenger’s seat to the back, and Jean knew that because the passenger seat was still warm when he sat down.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Renee smiled when she saw him, said hello with her lilting voice, and Kevin stared at him. Kevin had been staying at Abby’s, unfortunately. Jean didn’t know where the rest of them were. Kevin had told him they usually stayed at Abby’s over the summer, but they were staying at another place because Jean was there. Jean didn’t care.

He did care, at first, when Kevin told him that. Jean had sprung from the bed and started to pack as soon as the words left Kevin’s mouth. The thought of sharing a space with the people who had stolen him from his home, now infiltrating the space that was starting to feel safe made him feel physically ill. Kevin stopped him from packing, informing him that they were staying somewhere called Columbia.

They settled into silence. Wymack was playing whatever popular radio station was on. Jean didn’t care what happened.

On the way to the airport, Jean wondered about the probability of another car hitting them in order for only Jean to be killed. If it was possible for another car to slam into only the passenger side, so he would be the only one affected. He thought about it the whole way there. Replayed it on a loop. It was comforting.

The airport wasn’t very busy, and Jean only stuck around to say thank you before he turned his back on Wymack, Renee, and Kevin.

He didn’t have a checked bag, so he went through security. It was fine. He had a bottle of water in his bag that he’d forgotten about, and he had to be patted down. That was not so fine, but Jean allowed his eyes to glaze over. Allowed himself to float until the TSA agent cleared him.

They disposed of the water bottle.

He put his shoes back on.

He sat at the gate.

He boarded the plane. Took the window seat.

He watched the clouds. Wondered if the plane would crash. Wondered if it would be painful.

He fell asleep. Woke up nauseous, with the taste of someone’s fingers in his mouth. Down his throat.

The woman in the middle seat was asleep on her husband’s shoulder.

Just a dream.

Even in his sleep, he can’t have any peace.

-

Jean waited outside in the California air. It was hot. He was tired. He had slept for a few hours, but he still felt like his body would give out any minute.

“Hey, Jean!”

Jeremy Knox was in front of him, waving a hand in his face. Jean hadn’t seen or heard him approach, which seems preposterous because Jeremy Knox is one of the most obnoxious individuals he’d ever seen. He’d only played against him and watched him on TV. He had never had an actual conversation with him, but that was enough of an impression.

His exuberance was disturbing. His zest for life, immature. His golden hair, unkempt.

“You don’t have a checked bag?”

Jean shook his head.

Jeremy said, “That’s alright,” with that smile. It showed so many teeth. It was genuine. Jean hated it.

Jean stood, and Jeremy’s head tipped back to follow as Jean raised himself to his full height, almost a foot taller than Jeremy.

“Wow, forgot how tall you were. Wow. Very tall. You ready?” Jeremy turned and led them to his car. Jean followed obediently. He reminded himself that Riko is dead. He doesn’t have to obey anyone. But he did it anyway. It was ingrained into him.

“Okay, let’s go. Are you hungry? You look like you’re about to fall asleep. The flight was, what, seven hours? You’re probably starving.”

He wasn’t. He could barely eat. Could barely keep it down. Jean didn’t answer, because he had an inkling that Jeremy wasn’t done.

“We have food in the dorm. Not much, but we can get you something on the way back. Do you want a coffee or anything?”

“We?” Jean said.

Jeremy looked perplexed. “Yeah. We. We’re roommates.”

Jean distracted himself by getting into the car, only to avoid Jeremy’s eyes for a moment. Jean hadn’t expected to live privately, of course, but he hadn’t expected his roommate to be Jeremy Knox either.

Somewhere deep in his subconscious, he hears Kevin’s voice telling him about it. How Kevin had specifically asked Jeremy to room with Jean, and Jeremy agreed for some reason.

Jean must have forgotten. Or ignored Kevin. Or not have cared enough to retain it.

“No one told you?”

“Forgot,” Jean mumbled, looking out the window. He’d only said a few words today, and he was exhausted.

“That’s okay! I forget stuff all the time. I think I have ADHD.”

Jean didn’t answer. Jeremy didn’t stop talking.

-

There was a banner. And balloons. And flowers on the coffee table. A smaller vase of flowers on the counter. And a cake.

“Bienvenue, Jean!” the banner read.

“SCU Trojans #29” the cake read.

He could see Jeremy’s smile in his periphery. Wide as always, but a little hesitant. A bit shy.

Jean scanned the room. Maybe this was there for Jeremy. The other Trojans must have set this up for him. Maybe Jean was standing here dumbfounded at something that was absolutely not meant for him.

But it was. The cake had Jean’s number on it. The banner said his name.

And Jeremy was vibrating. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and gave Jean a chance to say something.

Jean didn’t know what to say. He stood near the door, strangling the straps of his duffle.

Riko would have popped him in the back of the head by now. Riko would have made a nasty comment about being ungrateful. Riko would have made him beg for forgiveness, and tell him all the things he was thankful for, because Riko is the one who allowed him nice things. “Nice” things. Like being allowed to live.

But Riko was dead. No matter how much Jean lived in fear that he’s actually alive somewhere, in hiding. That he’s going to come back into Jean’s life the second he began to live. But for now at least, he’s dead.

Jeremy looks like he wants to scream.

“I’m so sorry if it’s too much!” He finally breaks, face red either with embarrassment or from repressing his excitement. “I just wanted you to feel special. We’re all really excited for you to be here, Jean. I didn’t know what kind of cake you liked. Or even if you like cake. Shit,” Jeremy blanched. “Do you like cake?”

Jean blinked. Jeremy was staring up at him, assessing him like he could find the answer to do you like cake? written across his face. He must not have found it, because his next thoughts were spewing from his mouth before Jean could even process the question.

“Okay, well it’s here if you like it. It’s half vanilla and half chocolate, because I wasn’t sure what kind you liked.” Jeremy walked over to the small vase of flowers on the kitchen counter, fluffing them as he spoke. “And I tried not to get any flowers that people have allergies to. So there’s no lilies or roses or anything. I didn’t… I didn’t know if you were allergic to anything. Oh God,” he pulled back. “There are sunflowers though. Are people allergic to sunfl— Shit.”

Jeremy put his head in his hands, like the sunflowers are going to take years off of his life. “This is going horribly. I should have checked. Do you feel stuffy or anything?”

Jeremy then crossed the floor, determinately invading Jean’s personal space. Before Jean could flinch, Jeremy put the back of his hand on Jean’s forehead to assess if he was feverish, as if that’s how anaphylactic shock works.

“I’m…” Jean started, taking a step back, away from Jean’s hand. He ended up against the door.

He wasn’t sure what he was. He wasn’t sure what to say. The thought of Jeremy and the Trojans organizing this was jarring. The thought of Jeremy stressing about if Jean liked cake, and what flavors he might like. The banners. The flower arrangements, two of them. The balloons that yelled Welcome!

It all made Jean feel like he couldn’t breathe. It cracked the apathy beaten into him; the apathy he clung to to survive. This display was a pebble on a windshield, but it woke Jean up a bit. Chipped the glass.

To his absolute horror, his complete humiliation— Jean will blame this on the long trip and the harrowing flight and the human interaction for years— his throat seized. His vision blurred.

Jeremy had stepped back, waiting, looking up at Jean with a palm over either of his own cheeks.

“It’s really…” Jean didn’t have the words. So he nodded, unceremoniously. He felt like he should’ve said more. He couldn’t.

But it must have been enough. Jeremy’s grin could have lit heaven.

[mostlymaudlin]

#8 for the fic writing ask 🖤

i just answered this but ill do another !!

i've always wanted to put andrew in a time loop

hold on tw suicide a lil bit lmfao

BUT i just kinda think that andrew's will to live is such a tentative thing but you can't kill yourself in a time loop lmfao. at least not in a way that lasts. but that's kind of the ethos of why i want to put andrew in a time loop because i think it would force him to find more reasons to live! my original idea around this was actually just a normal day post-canon so he does have reasons to live but he's still so wrapped up in his duties to others, and the loop would just inherently isolate him from his people which would be excruciating -- and also he would have no one to put up fronts for. i think that level of independence and shamelessness would be really interesting to explore with him. and also he would kill himself so many times sdkjngksjn

i'm also fascinated by how neil would react in the repeating timelines, because he's so attuned to andrew's moods and up in his business. once i actually wrote a lil bit of this kind of thing but from neil's pov. the idea was that andrew is pretty far into the loops and he just doesnt care abt anything. so he tries to spend the day in bed. but to neil, andrew is just rly depressed out of nowhere!! and ofc neil always always always tries to take care of andrew...

i'm not sure if i'll ever write the big andrew pov version, but here's the lil snip of neil pov:

Neil doesn’t know what to do when Andrew doesn’t get out of bed. 

He leaves him be at first, trusting him to make decisions for himself. But they’re really going to be late for practice, so Neil crouches on the floor next to Andrew’s bed. He’s awake — Andrew never sleeps through this level of movement and noise. 

“Hey,” Neil says. Andrew, facing the wall, does not react. “Are you coming to practice?”

Nothing. 

Neil looks to Kevin, who stands in the bedroom doorway, but he looks as lost as Neil feels. 

Andrew’s head is not an easy place to be. The evidence is on his skin. But still, Neil has never seen him shut down quite like this before. Regardless of how wound up or closed off Andrew gets, he always gets up. He might move through the day stone-faced and silent, or irritable and violent, but he moves. Something is very wrong. 

Neil grimaces. “Get a ride with Matt and tell Coach we’re sick. I’ll call him later.”

Kevin tries to argue, but Neil shakes his head firmly. Kevin snaps his mouth shut with a look toward Andrew’s blanketed figure, then stomps out the door. Neil waits for the slam that signifies Kevin’s exit, then turns back to Andrew. He watches the subtle rise and fall of Andrew’s back for a few breaths.

“It’s just me now,” Neil whispers. “What’s wrong?”

Still no reaction. Neil sighs, then gets to his feet. In the kitchen, he pours the last of the coffee into a mug and makes a bowl of cereal, carrying both to the bedroom. He sets them on the floor near Andrew’s bed, then sits down next to them.

“Will you eat?” Neil asks, this time expecting the non-response, though it doesn’t ease the churning worry at his core. “If you want me to go, I need at least one sign that your brain hasn’t turned into a vegetable.”

Neil decides to give Andrew five more minutes before he starts considering seeking outside help. He sets his forearms on the edge of Andrew’s mattress, resting his cheek against one arm as he stares at the silky, sleep-mussed hair at the back of Andrew’s head. It’s been four minutes when Andrew finally rolls over. 

The action puts their faces only inches apart, but Andrew’s stare is distant. Still, the movement is a relief. 

“Hi,” Neil whispers. “What do you need?”

Andrew closes his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he rasps. “Go to practice.”

“You want me to leave?”

Andrew looks at him again, and this time his gaze is more focused. “No.”

Neil exhales. He reaches out a hand toward Andrew’s face, waiting for a subtle nod before he brushes Andrew’s hair off his forehead. 

“Breakfast?” Neil asks softly. Andrew shakes his head. 

“Kuefsteinstraße,” he says. 

Neil’s eyebrows shoot up.

“The street you lived on,” Andrew says. “In St. Pölten. You said it was the nicest place you lived in Europe, and that you’d believe me if I mentioned it.”

Neil swallows, racking his memory. “I don’t remember telling you about St. Pölten. I haven’t thought about that place in years.”

Andrew closes his eyes again. “You wouldn’t remember.”

“I don’t understand.”

Andrew slides back on the mattress until he’s pressed against the wall.

i'm not really sure where it goes from here other than andrew would tell neil he's in a time loop and neil would believe him! i don't think neil could help him get out of the loop, but having him believe him would at least give andrew comfort. and andrew would probably only tell neil in loops where he really needed that 😭

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Collected - a Magnus Archives fic

Jon floated for a thousand years as the pupil of the Eye - by choice, a place he ran, after Martin's death undid him.

Now, he finds himself pulled from that hell and into a new, weird world - one in which many versions of the people he knew are trying to make a new life.

And who is behind this, apparently? Jurgen Leitner.

Jon barely feels like a person again, and trusts nothing but Martin. This is, perhaps, wise.

Spoilers for the whole show. This is post-MAG 200.

Part two of the Magnus Monsterverse AU.

AO3

--------

I stared at myself in the small mirror, but no matter how hard I looked, I still felt unfamiliar.

I looked like someone related to me, perhaps—someone who had made a lot of pilgrimages, or lived entirely on vegetables, or inspired some ridiculous motion picture about a holy man or tapasvi.

I thought this insult of a film might star Kevin Costner or Dustin Hoffman, aping whatever culture seemed most “exotic” at the box office. Then I remembered that these actors had been dead for nearly a thousand years, had only been popular in my childhood, and likely existed nowhere now beyond my memory.

Our memory. The Eye was, after all, here.

They were all here. Multidimensional, evidently, though Martin didn’t really want to explain.

The man in the mirror looked mournfully back at me. His beard was nearly trimmed, more white than black. His hair…

It had always been thick, but I’d never let it grow beyond a student-appropriate scruff, and certainly kept it short when in the workplace. Well, centuries floating as the Pupil of the Eye had taken care of that.

It was long and very thick. More than a little wavy, heavily streaked with white. It made me look like an entirely different person.

Why had Sasha not cut it? The aesthetic, she’d said.

I had no idea what that meant until I did, knowledge dropped into me, and now I felt very silly. I wasn’t some… young and stylish thing, but whatever.

I was an entirely different person. Sasha told me my body was far from human now. It looked human—if I concentrated, keeping my many eyes closed—but it was not. Evidently, it swung back and forth between being hundreds of eyeballs in a man-shaped sack, or some kind of light beams which defied all attempts to study it. Fiber optics came to mind—knowledge transmitted via light.

Honestly, both descriptions were horrifying. Or they should have been. I… found them more baffling than anything else. For heaven’s sake, how was I producing saliva? How did my tongue articulate? How was I capable of erection?

Careful, Sims. That way danger lies.

The Eye wanted to tell me—to show me what it had done—but if I let it commune that clearly with me again, I might have trouble coming back to myself.

It’d had enough time monopolizing Playground Jon. My turn was overdue.

I fisted my hair (which felt neither like eyeballs, nor light). Martin liked it. So. I would not cut it off. Brushed and kept it would be.

“You okay in there?” Sasha called from the other room.

“Not at all, I’m afraid,” I called back, and walked out to join her.

She smiled. Sasha James looked largely like she had, but somewhere around the time I died at Ny-Ålesund in her world, she’d fallen in with the Flesh.

She was half a foot taller than she’d been when I knew her.

She’d somehow gone on to end the world for the Flesh, too, and had not elaborated how. I could know, but that felt like violation, so I kept that door shut.

There were many doors to keep shut, these days.

“Feeling up for it?” she said.

I knew what she was asking: was I ready to meet my benefactor?

I was not. I still felt as though I were pretending to be a person. It had taken me two weeks just to be able to keep all my extra eyes closed. “Must I do this?” I drawled. “Is it really necessary?”

“Yep.”

“What if I faked an illness?”

“Mm,” she said, and tapped her chin with one sharp, purple fingernail. “That’d be quite the feat, considering you’re immune to pretty much everything now.”

She would know.

I sighed. “I could pretend to madness. Earn a few more days.”

“Martin’s willing to go with you,” she said.

I may not have a heart anymore, but something in my chest still ached. Such an offer cost him.

After he killed my counterpart, the Lonely had him for fifteen years. By the time Tim and Manuela opened a shocking door of fire and crackling sound above his wine-dark sea, Martin had drifted so long in cold, crushing silence that he couldn’t remember how to talk.

He struggled, now, to accept a world with people. Struggled not to loathe everyone and everything. Except me. And I don’t know how I held a sweet place in his heart after what I did.

If he was willing to do this, then I would go through with it. “All right.”

“Come on. You look fine.”

I looked down. Green button-down; jeans. Ankle boots. None of it I picked out, but as I still looked human outwardly, going naked was neither comfortable for anyone, nor practical for me. “Should I look scary instead? Go all eyes,” I said, glancing up at her.

She wore the extra inches she’d given herself quite well. “Don’t think it matters. Jurgen’s seen it all.”

“I doubt that.” My tone was dry.

“Well, he did say you’re the first you he’s met.”

I’d been warned there were multiple versions of us out there. “How the hell does that even work, anyway? Are there multiple versions of… all of us here?”

“Some of us.”

“How is it determined who is brought here?”

“I’m not part of that process,” she said. “You’ll have to ask him.”

The Eye offered to tell me. No. I may be unable to avoid things like the colloquial definition of the aesthetic being dropped into my head, but I could refuse the bigger ones.

I’d had no choice in that before, neither when I was still human, nor during the apocalypse, I wasn’t yet certain if this were a new skill I possessed, or something to do with the place I now found myself in.

With my benefactor.

Jurgen Leitner. I was still struggling with this.

My Leitner (a dubious epithet) had been brutally murdered by a lead pipe. I had never met this one. “How many of the others has he met?”

“That’s a lovely question to ask him!” She beamed.

I sighed. “You’re being awful about all of this, you know.”

“It’s not my job to answer questions. It is my job to prod you into being a better version of yourself,” she said. “Actually, I think it kind of always was?”

“Ha-ha,” I allowed, and we walked out the door to Martin’s smiling face, and the moment I saw him, all my stresses ceased to matter.

#

It was something of a grim apartment block—a gray courtyard-rectangle, framed by two building-rectangles, which were comprised of even smaller flat-rectangles that formed our homes. Each flat was precisely two and a half rooms: a bedroom, a sort of general space for whatever else, and a closet-sized bathroom.

I had a trunk at the foot of my bed with gifted clothes.

There was no kitchen. I didn’t need to eat. Neither, evidently, did anyone else in the place.

We could eat. There was a communal kitchen in the bottom floor of the west building—a conscious choice, so Sasha told me, because it encouraged us to spend at least a little bit of time together.

A week ago, after I left the hospital, I grew curious enough to wander down there and  found Jane Prentiss sitting by the refrigerator, staring into a teacup filled with cockroaches.

I fled, and had yet to return.

“You look so good,” said Martin, kissing my cheek.

I leaned in. I would never forget the hollowness of his death—the loss, the tearing, hopeless horror. I would never take his affection, his love, for granted. “You always do.”

“And when I don’t, nobody will ever know,” Martin grinned. He was fully visible today, so he knew how good he looked; a light jumper, comfortable jeans, boots like mine. His curly hair was frost-kissed, the red and white both glinting in the sun.

Laugh lines around his eyes, above his freckles. Eyes that some days were less green, gone almost colorless; but on those days, he also didn’t bother to be fully visible.

Except to me.

“I’m never going to get used to this,” I said, running my fingers through his curls. “Alive. You. Here. I…” Damned throat tightness. (And how did that even work, anyway? What, were the eyeballs constricting? Pupils exhibiting tension dysphonia?)

“Me, neither—and you’re welcome to butter me up more, but we’re still going to meet some people today,” said Martin, because his choice to be social included forcing it upon me.

“Do I have to?” I said. “You know, it could make me late for Leitner. Better skip this bit.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and leaned in and kissed me.

Mm. Alright. Anything he asked would do.

“Don’t be a coward,” he said.

“I am a coward,” I said. “Apparently, that’s half my appeal.”

He held me close, and his impossible heartbeat echoed my own. Right here, right now, I felt like a person. I remembered how. I knew what it was like, and I melted in his arms.

“Come on,” he murmured against my head. “Nobody’s going to hurt you—and we’re… we’re sort of family, now. All of us. We all share kind of a big thing, you know?”

“We all ended the world,” I whisper.

“Yes.”

I swallowed. (Did I have an eyeball instead of an Adam’s Apple? Precisely what was constricting?) “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

He shrugged. “Who would? Come on, or we actually will be late for Leitner.” With his hand in mine, he led me into the communal dining hall.

#

I’d hardly gotten a good look at it the first time. It was your basic cafeteria: tables and chairs, a sort of kitchen area behind a wide, white counter. Checkered floor tiles. Awful lighting.

This time, Mike Crew was in there, along with Oliver Banks, seated at a little square table with tea.

Both of them stared at me.

I stared back.

The Eye tried to give me their stories.

I resisted. “We all just live here?” I blurted.

“Smooth,” said Martin, waving at them. “Hi.”

Mike looked Martin up and down as though he were made of chocolate.

Martin ignored it.

So that happened.

“Wow,” said Oliver, smiling at me. “That’s a good look for you.”

“What?” I managed like an idiot.

Mike sipped his tea. The cup sparked, as if it were secretly made of electrostatic particles. “Huh,” he said. “I killed you in my timeline.”

This was going splendidly. “When I came to see you?” I guessed.

“Yeah,” said Mike. “Cop followed you. Didn’t appreciate it too much, so.” He made a swooping motion with his hand. “Off you both went.”

“Daisy, too?” I said.

“Was that her name?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t sound less stiff.

He didn’t care. “Cool.”

“I didn’t kill you,” Oliver said, and looked sad. “I just didn’t manage to wake you.”

“The coma?” I guessed.

“You chose to stay human.”

Dear lord. “What happened after that?”

Oliver sighed. “The Archivist’s death somehow… empowered me? I don’t honestly know. There was a lot of manipulation from others, and… it was really a mess. I didn’t actually mean to end anything.”

Oh, gods. “I’m so sorry. I know what that’s like. To be used.”

“I meant to do it,” said Mike, chipper and friendly. “We all fell forever in the sky. It was honestly lovely until there wasn’t anyone else left to tumble.”

My swallow was audible. (And just how did my eye-filled throat replicate the sound of a pharynx gulping?)

“What’s on offer?” said Martin, as though none of this were awkward.

Mike looked at his tea. “Green, I think?”

“Silver needle,” said Oliver.

“Not bad,” said Martin. “I don’t see any baked goods. Jack’s not been by today?”

“No, and don’t ask about him,” said Mike. “They’re on the outs again.”

Martin sighed. “I’m not the type of person to say this, normally, but if they’d just fuck already…”

Both the other men laughed.

I didn’t. I stared at him.

“Agnes,” he said.

“Jack Barnabas?”

“Yeah.”

“How is he—he wasn’t an avatar of anything! How did—”

“He’s just here, for some re-”

“Did he end the world, too?” I blurted. “What did he do, boil the world in coffee?”

Mike laughed. “Nikola said you were funny.”

Right, no one mentioned that. “Nikola. She’s here. Like Jane Prentiss.”

“Not like Jane. Imprisoned,” said Martin. “She's not loose.”

“Why the hell is Jane loose?”

“Because she behaves. She doesn’t attack anyone, and she’s got a job handling rubbish dumps.”

I stared at him. “She hated me.”

“She hated the Archives. I have no idea if she’ll hate you now,” said Martin. “There are no Archives here.”

The Archives were the Eye. I am pretty much all eyes. I rubbed my face.

“Cheer up,” said Mike. “Sit down. Have a cuppa. You’ll feel better.”

Come to think of it, Mike wasn’t such a hero, either. “So we all ended the world, by choice or otherwise, and now we’re playing… Game On?”

Mike laughed. It was such a friendly laugh from a sociopath. “Game On? That’s a blast from the past. You watched that show?”

“My grandmother approved of it, for some reason,” I muttered, looking down.

“Martin, you were right,” said Mike chummily. “He’s adorable.”

“Told you,” said Martin.

I was made of eyes, had been removed from my floating, emotionless hell for all of a month, and this was the conversation? “I… I’m not.”

“Would you look at that expression?” said Mike brightly. “Like someone walked over his grave.”

Suddenly, I felt watched.

This… this was a test?

I knew it was.

From whom? Why? Leitner, maybe. I didn’t dare reach for more information, reach into the Eye when I don’t yet know if I could do that and return. But this—whether any of them knew it—was a test. I was just coming out of my cocoon, and here was a man who’d hurt me, lightly flirting with my lover.

A man who sounded nice, but was not. A man who behaved amicably, yet had not cared when his parents died due to his mistake with the Corruption.

He wasn’t being aggressive, but still pressing buttons as if to trigger a response.

Who the hell was watching this? What, was I going to be “imprisoned” like Nikola if I did this wrong?

That was a leap, logically. All I knew was this was a test—possibly without the consent of anyone here—and I did not know why yet. I would not live in paranoia again.

(Let me show you whispered the One who’d had me for damn near a thousand years, and I shuddered.)

“Jon?” said Martin.

“It’s a lot,” I said, going for the truth. I somehow doubt floating in facts for a millennia made me any better of a liar. “I don’t… are we even on different sides, anymore?”

“Sides?” said Mike. “Sure. I’m on the ‘let’s don’t die’ side. You?”

Oliver looked sad. “Sorry, Jon. It is a lot. But you have time to figure it out.”

And suddenly, I wanted a test of my own—to see how they’d react to questions. “But why is this happening? What is the point of it all? What, are we all just being… collected, or something?”

“Damned if I know,” said Mike, and toasted me with his tea. “But I, for one, am grateful to be here. Wasn’t fun, toward the end. I was all that was left.”

I got it, suddenly. “Your god fed on you.”

A crack appeared in his cheer. “My god fed on me. I… I’m still Vast. But I can’t forget that. I can’t just let it go.” He looked down.

Oliver put his arm around Mike’s shoulders. “We’ve all got a lot to process, still.”

The Eye dropped a meme into my head. Vulnerability? In MY sociopath? It’s more likely than you think!

Stop that, I thought at It.

“Text me if Jack brings anything by, okay?” said Martin. “Come on, Jon. Time to meet our benefactor.”

Oliver perked up. “Oh! Good. You’ll like him.”

Mike shrugged. “He’s not awful.” He kept his eyes down; Oliver’s arm stayed around his shoulder.

I didn’t know how to read that after the look Mike had given Martin. Blast it all, what was this drama? This was worse than secondary.

I let Martin lead me away.

The gray rectangles opened onto a lovely street I had not yet seen. It was quiet; a park bloomed across the way, bright with bird-speak and pretty flowers. A few red post-boxes and yellow fire hydrants fit the spring weather and the early bloom.

London, but not one I knew.

There were no cars. I couldn’t hear any, at least. More buildings like ours stretched down the street on this side; there were no shops.

We stopped at the curb and waited.

I couldn’t wait, though, any longer. “Jane Prentiss. Nikola Orsinov. Explain.”

“I’d really rather let Leitner do it,” said Martin.

“But—”

“I hate… all of this. I don’t want to think about so many people. It hurts, Jon.”

I dropped that like a hot potato. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He took a deep breath and, instead of a potato, dropped a bomb: “It was thoughts of you that fueled me, you know.”

“Wh… what?” I managed, and at that moment, a car came around the far corner.

It was the first one I’d seen here; expensive and black, rather large, but silent—like someone took a Bentley and refitted it to be electric. It pulled without a sound to a stop in front of us and waited, windows tinted.

“Absolutely haunted,” I proclaimed.

Martin laughed and opened the back door.

#

Maybe it was haunted. The quarter glass was tinted, too, and whoever was behind it never spoke.

“What’s he like?” I said, soft.

Martin shrugged. “If Mick Jagger and Neo from The Matrix had a baby,” he began.

“Stop.” I raised my hands. “Dear lord, Martin, you’re going to summon something.”

He laughed again, then leaned forward and took my hands between his eyes. Tears glistened on his lashes. “I forgot to laugh until you came back. I mean… I’d do it. For people. Because I… I’m trying, Jon. I’m trying so hard.” He stopped to swallow around the roughness in his voice. “But you’re the only one I don't have to try for. I’m tired.”

Don’t panic, I told myself, because I didn’t think I had the power to save him. Don’t panic, I told myself, because I wasn’t even comfortable in my own skin yet, and here if I failed, I might drag him down with me. Don’t panic,I told myself, because this was Martin, and I would do anything to keep him safe.

I brought his hands to my lips and kissed them. “I don’t know what I can do for you. I’m just… I’m just me. Whatever that is anymore. I don’t know. But whatever I am, all that I am, Martin… I’m yours.”

He met my eyes. His own had gone silver with dark gray radial streaks and an eerie limbal ring of blue.

I took a breath and held it, unable to move. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

So… so horrible, what was I thinking? What was this? Was he in pain? Was he slipping away? Was—

He leaned in, gripped the back of my head, and kissed me with warm breath and warm lips and nary a hint of mist or fading, and I clutched his shoulders and pulled him in for more.

“Silly,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m fine. I saw that look, Jonathan Sims. You got all spooked.”

“I know you’re fine,” I lied, clinging.

“I’m not a ghost, either,” he said.

I was still laughing when the car pulled to a stop and the door was opened by a surprise.

Jared Hopworth bent down nearly double to peer into the back seat, chauffeur cap jaunty on his head, elephantine suit straining at his shoulders. “Come on, lovebirds,” he said. “You ain’t the only job I got today, so move it.”

I gawked at him.

Martin dragged me out of the back. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Jared gave Martin the same look Mike had.

Maybe I had gone mad, after all. Maybe this was entirely my subconscious inventing a world, revolving around the fact that Martin was desirable, even to me (which was something), and so it only made sense that all the characters with speaking parts would want him.

Or maybe I was just jealous, and had never been good at reading people, anyway.

Jared drove off, the vehicle silent.

Ahead of us rose a ridiculous building that could’ve gone head-to-head with the Magnus Institute, but instead of Victorian academia, this one was a gods-damned church.

It rose in ridiculous splendor, its doorways a pointed arches, its enormous rose window portraying some strange-looking knight battling a hydra. Ornately carved flowers and fluting patterned the building’s facade.

“Why are we meeting in a church?” I said.

“I think it’ll make more sense when you meet him,” said Martin. “He’s, um. Dramatic?”

“Wonderful.”

He smiled and opened the heavy door for me. It was unlocked.

#

The inside of the gothic church was… a gothic church. Flying buttresses. Vaulted ceilings. The pews had been removed, replaced with desks and filing cabinets; boxes of files lined the walls.

Then I caught a glimpse of another Martin and damn near fell over my own feet.

Another—

Another Martin?

Another—

“Steady,” said Martin. “That one’s… that one was never yours.”

“What?” I said, staring at the other Martin.

The other Martin looked spooked and skedaddled. A door slammed.

Everybody else here looked at us.

There were… there were people I did not know, and I was deeply glad of that. But there were also people I did.

Two Jude Perrys, for one, sitting side by side, with wildly different hairstyles. A Melanie, with both her eyes; one, two, three Georgies, who seemed to be focused on some sort of project building a tower from tarot cards.

I couldn’t move. Are we all just being collected? I’d asked Mike, and for one dizzying moment, wondered if I were right.

“I thought Sasha warned you,” Martin whispered.

“Not… really,” I managed.

Another door opened, and all heads turned away from me and toward the other end. “Well, well, well!” boomed a voice I knew—a voice like Christopher Lee’s, a voice with weight and wealth and the wide confidence of a man who rarely hears a no.

It looked like Jurgen Leitner—if Leitner came wrapped in black leather, wearing a pair of green-lensed spectacles (small and round lenses, very trendy, I supposed), numerous rings that sparked with some power tickling the back of my senses, and a gods-damned sword strapped to his hip.

Right. That cinched it. I had definitely gone mad.

“Come on, come on,” he said, gesturing. “Come along, now—nobody’s going to bite you, Jon. May I call you Jon?”

“Please,” I said, years of training in social norms finally coming to use as the parts of my brain in charge of voluntary behavior seemed to have stalled. (The image of a skull full of eyes rolling back in an Edwardian fainting spell did not help at all.)

“Come on, now. Come on!” He held open the door back there—another deep, pointed-arch affair—and beamed.

There were smiles among some of the people here. They still watched me; wary, to a one, and far too many with baggage, but no one yet seemed inclined to attack me, or anything.

All three Georgies looked sad, which was awful.

Martin tugged my arm.

Right. For him, I would do this, and not turn around and run away down the street as fast as I could and hide in the bushes and hope to die a quiet, eye-rolling death where I could harm no one and no one could harm me.

Leitner was taller than I remembered, but then, I’d not been in a good place when we met. “There you are,” he said with great satisfaction, and stepped aside for us to enter his office.

“I think I’m in shock, just so you know,” I informed him as I stepped inside.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” he said with great cheer, and closed the door behind us.

------

Notes:

Looks like this monsterverse AU is go. Oh, boy, what have I gotten myself into?

[neil-jostenminyard]

Andreil Fic Recs - Longer Fics

The New Normal by justadreamfox Words: 46,660 | Rating: T Summary: Everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski. The heir apparent to the Butcher of Baltimore, the pin pulled from the grenade that exploded a criminal empire and let it crumble at his feet, stepping unscathed out of the rubble with Kevin Day - the missing Son of Exy - at his side. So yeah, everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski, but Andrew sure as shit never expected to see him in his house, casually drinking a Pepsi with his brother. Or, a high school AU where everyone knows who Neil and Kevin really are, Andrew is intrigued, and we're all trying to tell the truth here, but like…not all of it, okay?

quicksand by likearecord Words: 80,998 | Rating: M Summary: Andrew and the Idiotic, Thirsty, Ill-advised, Very Off-Limits Crush on his College Roommate's Younger Brother.

Shut Up, This is Love series by lady_flash Words: 97,568 | Rating: Varies by Part Summary: Andrew and Neil, post-canon, growing together (and apart).

on the tip of my tongue (say something) series by Willow_bird Words: 216,292 | Rating: Varies by Part Summary: A post-canon series that deals heavily with recovery. The basic premise/catalyst is Neil's anxiety manifesting as selective mutism. But also, the boys are very soft and in love.

Heartlines by nekojita Words: 291,539 | Rating: E Summary: The Fae king and queens have gone away, closing the knowes behind them and abandoning their offspring to the mortal world. As the Fae have spread far and wide, their bloodlines thinning if not vanishing forever as they flee from mortal persecution… two Fae have found a way to reopen the knowes - Kayleigh Day and Tetsuji Moriyama. The Fae regroup once more, the balance of power shifted amongst them, and 'changelings' appear now and then in the mortal population. Andrew Doe is one of those changelings, a young child suffering in the foster system, shunned by his peers for some reason and hearing voices in his head. Alex - the latest name gifted to him by a charm - is on the run along with his mother from his father, using their talents as shadow walkers to slide between worlds and stay one step ahead of the powerful Fae. Except even that is not enough anymore. Except that's not Alex's only talent.

Armies by nekojita Words: 341,918 | Rating: E Summary: Upon Mary Hatford's death, Nathaniel Wesninski makes the call to his uncle Stuart rather than continuing on the run and ending up in Milport, Nevada. Upon graduating university, Andrew Minyard turns down all offers of a professional Exy career and muddles through a 'normal' life, until the boredom and inanity of it all wears him down and he accepts an offer of a break to spend some time with his cousin Nicky in Stuttgart, Germany. There he meets Abram Hatford, a handsome and broken young man who has more in common with Andrew than he suspects, and nothing's normal anymore.

[vermwerm]

very normal queenkaard headcanons 2/2

Subservient: prepared to obey others unquestioningly Less important; subordinate He has suspicious knowledge of chemicals He likes cats, and cats like him He strictly calls those off brand spiders (aka daddy long legs) “harvestmen” and refuses to use their more commonly known nameHe likes the number 34 for no particular reason He writes 7s like i do, weirdly He gives very “stick to the question” answers, a lot of people have constantly given him the “i dont care” when he adds extra information about a topic after answering someones question. He would smell vanilla extract and chug it The first few times Queen complimented him, Rou took it as a joke and awkwardly laughed it off bcuz he genuinely believed (technically believes) he didnt deserve such a thing from someone so superior to him If he had sugar tolerance he would love apple pie with vanilla ice cream He constantly has nightmares about when he almost entirely turned to stone He likes to ice skate, and he wears very specific figure skate shoes or whatever Rou, to try and desperately find purpose, makes it so that he can just be used and discarded at Darkners/Lightners leisure, Que tries to get him out of this habit, but occasionally(read: a lot of the time) he slips back into this habit of just being this useless object thats only there for a minimal amount of things He loves candles, his favorite scents are pumpkin and linen Hes very bad at typing, bcuz he has long nails Oh right i forgot to add on this list, that he has long nails, theyre naturally black :) He can wink but in the unsettling way He hates the words failure and mistake, theyve been used so often to refer to him he hates the way it comes out of peoples mouth He ironically likes the word error, not when referring to him but he likes the way its said and spelled Ok but what if he purred?? Is that too cringe? Well too bad i already have too many headcanons He uses mint flavored toothpaste cuz hes boring Im gonna slap a “you tried” star sticker on his big ass fucking forehead Rou would either have a very flowy silk gown or steal queens clothes to go to bed, no inbetweens Why do i imagine this senario where swatch gets all up in rous face but bcuz king is a fucking dickhead he has a flight or fight response and punches swatch He is very starved for positive affection… so when Que complimented him for the first time he put it off and saw it as a joke yes, but he started wanting to hang out with her more because of said compliments (also he had the biggest crush on her, like he still has the feelings too, but theyre just dating now yippee!!) Yeah he has mommy issues He immediately got tired of the “trans-parent” joke, in general he just doesnt like puns (skill issue) He always gets really happy when Queen compliments him He had this short period of time dating Queen where he would kind of just exist as a yesman to everything Him and lancer both would like the rainbow slug (if you know you know) He can draw, if you peaked in his sketchbook itd be entirely bugs and a lot of Queens He loves iridescent fabric and when he finally decides to sew he likes using the fabric he has to make outfits that fit the iridescent clothing he already has (i hate this wording what the fuck) He kind of likes, sea salt and vinegar, chips He hates the fat on meat and has to spit it out or else he will lose his appetite He sometimes just soaks in a bathtub for too long, i also imagine his weird slime skin is sponge like. Ok maybe ill remove the sponge aspect that was a joke brought on by the question of if he could mold Child rou gives “mom i frew up” vibes His voice claim is the vocaloid voicebank Kevin, a good song is UNCANNY by GHOST/Ghost and Pals :) He probably calls spoiled milk “vintage milk” Rou probably did that bobbin lacing thing, but he dropped that hobby in his 20s

Que

Queen is very warm at all times,very huggable She can cook and is very good at it She loves mistranslated shirts, and has set out to get as many as she can I do maybe fully believe that she would half ironically half unironically call Rouxls “babygirl” Queen has. Good posture Yeah she does his makeup She gives Rou, forehead kisses, or just in general a lot of positive affection She makes the best food, ever She paints Rous nails sometimes She very much constantly compliments Rou My biggest flex is unintentionally predicting AI art /hj; i think that Que cant properly create art and can only really copy or take parts of other peoples art and mash it into one, she can also perfectly replicate art. She draws like a printer too She very easily gets tricked by optical illusions I feel like she would say “holy fuck, holy fucking fuck, that body of yours is absurd” to Rou at least twice