#thanks for opening those floodgates!

[hazel2468]

I feel like I need to know everything about Avery now.

Oh boy... Okay! You asked. You also said "everything".... Lucky for you I don't want to sprain my wrist again typing for seven hours. SO.

Quick rundown. Avery Erin Tallstag (she/they)- they also go by Avery Erinyes in our DnD campaign. She is my PC in said campaign, and also for sure the best thing I've ever made. My wife and I are in the process of maybe-kind-of-sorta hashing out a concrete story for her and her love interest, Kris (my other blorbo who you may see me mention here on this blog) that I would frankly LOVE to actually write someday, but I'm not sure if I have the time, energy, or willpower to actually write a book.

Avery is a teifling, about 27 years old. Her class in DnD is a rouge assassin, and she more than lives up to that as the Red Dahlia, lead assassin in her gang, Alun (also known as the Wall Skeletons). Alun is one of several gangs in Fairgold, largest city on the continent of Ikaria and shining jewel of the nation of Avalon (and Zarrashkah, the city is so big it stretches across two nations), and Avery sits on the Gang Council along with her Don and two other top dogs in her gang. In our campaign, she took a short stint of work for neighboring kingdom Aretea, which is what landed her with the party and into the whole mess we've been playing out over the last... Year? Two years? In addition to her gang work, Avery is a dancer and sex worker at renowned club Ace and Spades.

Personality-wise, I recently described Aves in a chat as "an alcoholic stuffed to the brim with rum, cum, and maladaptive coping mechanisms", and I think that is just about the perfect descriptor. While she's changed a lot over the course of the campaign, and the version I've developing for our hypothetical book is a bit more tempered and even (and knows what a loving family is supposed to look like, wow, imagine that!), the original Avery that our party met was loud, crass, outgoing, and just open enough about most things that people didn't bother to wonder what she wasn't walking about. I won't go into detail about her backstory, but know that in involves a vengeance quest against her mother that has since been completed in-campaign... And THAT will have lasting consequences going forward.

I also want to talk a little bit about how Aves came to be, because she didn't start as a DnD character or my #1. She started as a side-character in a JJBA fanfic that will never see the light of day, and then fell prey to my need to have an OC to ship with every tall goth in Part 5. Of course, the more I wrote her and got to know her, the more I loved her, and when I had the chance to take her off the page and onto a character sheet, I jumped at it.

So, yeah! That's Aves. I have about 7 bajillion AUs for her that my wife and I have come up with for her and Kris. Their ship name is KrAve or KrAvery and I'm fucking OBSESSED WITH THEM.

[piratekane]

She’s bone-tired, aches in places she didn’t know could ache and muscles stretched out in a way they haven’t been for a long time. Since her physical therapy, at least. The rock climbing a few weeks ago certainly hadn’t helped, but there was no way she was going to stay with her feet rooted to the floor. Not when she could climb up 15 feet and hang there like Spider-man. Better than Spider-man.

Suck it, Tom Holland.

She paid for it later, though, and spent the next day letting her body remember how to stretch, going through yoga poses and washing her breakfast down with ibuprofen. 

It was worth it, still, to see the look on Bea’s friend’s faces. Mary was impressed, clapping her on the shoulder when she got to the bottom and telling Camila - who made it up the wall the fastest - that she had competition. Even Lilith regarded her with a level of approval that Ava ate up. She’s going to make Lilith like her. Or at least smile politely, even if it is with all her teeth.

But it was Bea’s face that made it even better. 

She hasn’t known Bea long - she’s known others longer, including that one cafeteria lady who always saves her a side of mac and cheese because Ava said one time that it was her favorite - but she already knows that a big part of her wants to impress Bea. She can’t quite put it into words. There’s something about Bea that makes Ava want to show off. Maybe it’s because one thing she’s learned about Beatrice is that her smiles are fleeting. Ava wants to collect every one of them.

She’ll have a lot of opportunities, now that Bea is her friend and her roommate.

“Where do you want this one?” Beatrice asks from the doorway. She’s holding a paper box with tons of smiley faces drawn on it in a thick-tipped permanent marker. There’s a method to her packing madness, but Ava is big enough to admit that she has no idea what’s in this particular box.

“Here is fine.” She shifts in the computer chair Bea got her, a slight pinch in her back.

Bea looks down at the last few inches of floor where Ava points and frowns. “How will you get out?”

Ava lifts her legs, wiggling her socked toes. “I’ll jump. Have you jumped on this bed? Is it a solid bed for jumping?”

“Jumped on the…” Beatrice blinks at her. “No, Ava. I haven’t jumped on the bed.”

Ava shrugs. “You’re missing out. My dorm room was not good jumping material. When’s the last time you jumped on a bed?”

“Nev-never.”

Her mouth drops open. “Never?” She immediately frowns. Beatrice wasn’t kidding when she told her that her life hadn’t been normal kid stuff and her parents were hardly around. They had that in common: a girl who lived in an orphanage and a girl who grew up alone. It makes her a little sad for Bea. “We have to fix this.”

“I am not jumping on the bed,” Bea says firmly.

Ava shrugs. Today is not the day, and tomorrow won’t be either, but soon. She stands and stretches her arms above her head, immediately dropping them so that her shirt doesn’t ride up any higher. Bea seems like the kind of girl who appreciates a little modesty. Ava can do that. Or, she can try really hard to do that.

“I am officially all moved in.” She grins, surveying her kingdom. There’s a desk in one corner, left behind by Bea’s roommate who went to study abroad and didn’t come back. A nightstand by the bed has her lamp and her hat on it. She’ll have to hang her clothes, fill the dresser, find a few posters to put up on the walls. But it’s hers. “So, roomie, what’s next?”

Bea looks around, clasping her hands behind her. “I believe those are all your things.”

“Except for the kitchen stuff.”

“Yes.” There’s a faint smile on Bea’s face and Ava feels a thrill, knowing she put it there. “How could I forget your… hot dog maker.”

“Not sure. It’s fire engine red.” But she looks around too. “I think we’re done. Now we can get ready for movie night!”

A proper end to moving day. Movie night with an Ava-curated predetermined list, tons of drinks and movie theater popcorn and Bea’s friends. She had hesitantly suggested it to Bea a few days ago. She’d never done a movie night and her College Experiences bucket list clearly had it marked as item #8. But Bea had said yes almost immediately, and Ava went to work, making a list of options in between packing and classes and meals with Bea and her friends.

They’re going to be my friends, she decides. That’s on her bucket list too.

Now she just needed them to get here. The minutes have been dragging on as she’s waited as patiently as possible. But time didn’t seem to be cooperating. It’s doing its best to drag its heels. Ava wants to grab it by the neck and shake it.

Bea seems to notice that. “They’ll be here soon.” She says it very patiently, like she already knows Ava does terrible with waiting. And Ava likes that. She likes that Bea is paying attention to her enough to notice these things.

Bea’s going to be a great roommate. Ava wants to be just as good. She looks around her room, satisfied. She can unpack later - there’s enough space to get from the bed to the door and Bea insisted she make the bed first, almost like she knew that Ava was going to stack everything in insurmountable piles and try her best to get around them.

See? she thinks. She knows me already.

She’s about to say that, to tell Bea that she’s already killing this ‘best roommate’ contest that Bea doesn’t know they’re having, when someone knocks on the door. Once, twice, three times.

Ava does jump on the bed this time, beating Beatrice to the door and pulling it open to find Camila on the other side. 

Ava beams. “Movie night!”

~

“Is the whole movie about… biking?” Lilith makes it seem like a swear word.

Ava grins, shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth, and says, “id bub nimnasts.” Everyone turns to her. She swallows and smiles more sheepishly this time. “It’s about gymnastics.”

Lilith heaves a long-suffering sound. “Gymnastics.” It’s really a testament to her disdain for everyday things, that everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like she’s spitting it from between her teeth. But then the running biker rips off her helmet and it’s Missy Peregrym and even Lilith seems interested.

Ava gets it. She does. This is peak Missy Peregrym. And it only gets better. She stops watching the movie when Missy Peregrym’s character, Haley, finds her way back to the gym and on Vanessa Lengies’ character, Joanne’s, last nerve and starts watching the room instead. Onscreen, Haley pretends to be on the phone while Joanne stomps her foot angrily, and Mary snorts, lips curled up in a smile, and that’s when Ava knows this is a good choice.

She wants to impress them so badly. It consumes her. Partly because she thinks they’re really cool, even Lilith. And partly because she thinks Bea is amazing and these people agree. Sister Frances always told her to stop wasting her time and do everyone the favor of aligning herself with the right people. Ava is pretty sure she was saying it to get rid of her, to go out and be someone else’s problem, but Ava thinks she found the right people all the same.

“Isn’t that the guy from Twilight?” Camila asks, abandoning her popcorn. Ava meets Bea’s eyes and smiles. Bea shakes her head fondly at Camila and Ava wonders when she’ll get the same look. Someday, she thinks. She looks back at Camila, leaning forward in her seat on the bean bag chair she wrestled through their front door earlier. “He’s the cute one, I think. The other one kind of freaked me out. I don’t think he ever blinked.”

Their front door. Ava’s heart beats a little harder.

Ava could go into detail about Twilight - it was basically contraband at the orphanage. But they’re in the middle of a movie. And she thinks Lilith might actually throw a soda at her. She doesn’t think Bea would appreciate the mess. So that’s a Camila-and-Ava conversation for later.

“Yikes. Ice baths.” Shannon shudders. “I used to do those in high school, during the season. Need a wake up call? Submerge yourself in a metal tub of ice cubes.” She points her entire soda towards the screen. “Though, I never looked like that doing it.”

Mary snakes her arm across the back of Shannon’s shoulder. “No, you didn’t.”

Ava slaps her hand over her mouth to keep in her laugh but Shannon rolls her eyes and elbows Mary gently. “You’re right. I looked better.”

“Damn right you did.” Mary meets Ava’s eye and smirks. It feels like a secret between them. That swelling feeling in her chest reaches a crescendo.

She shoves another handful of popcorn into her mouth and spares a glance at Bea, finding that Bea is already looking back at her. She inhales, nearly choking on a kernel. Bea sits forward, worry on her face, but Ava holds up a hand, stopping her. She swallows a few times, washes down what she can with her soda, and takes a deep breath.

“Do you like it?” Ava whispers, aware that she can be too loud sometimes. 

Bea has to lean closer to hear her. “It’s entertaining.”

Ava’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t know what that word means to Bea yet. Sometimes entertaining means not good, and sometimes it means the best thing I’ve watched in my whole life. She’s still learning to read her.

“Good,” Bea fills in. Ava exhales in relief. “Gymnastics takes a considerable amount of skill.”

“You could do it,” Ava says confidently. She nods when Bea goes to argue with her. “I saw you rock climbing. And all the martial arts you talk about? I bet you could beat Nastia Liukin.”

Bea’s cheeks might redden but Ava can’t tell in the dim light. “Actual Olympic gold medalist Nastia Liukin? I doubt that.”

Ava shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to call her and find out. But my money's on you.”

Lilith shushes them, glaring. Ava puts one hand up in surrender and grins at Bea when Lilith turns back to the movie. She pushes the popcorn back to Bea and waits expectantly. Bea is much more graceful than Ava, picking out a few pieces delicately. Ava doesn’t offer the same grace; she shoves her hand in and grabs as much as she can. 

“Wait, her mom cheated on her dad with her coach?” Lilith doesn’t pull her eyes away from the screen, but scoffs. “Pathetic.”

Camila claps when it ends, grinning. Ava matches her smile, looking around excitedly. 

She pats herself on the shoulder mentally, though her hand itches to do it physically. She made a good choice, a strong start. She stands up, twists her back side to side so she can stretch it out, and grins. “Who wants more popcorn?”

~

She waits until a quiet moment, after everyone has been settled into movie and Bea has finished what Ava is sure to be the first of many comments on the historical validity of The Mummy before she says:

“This movie was my bisexual awakening.”

There’s a cough and sputter from her left where Beatrice is sitting. She thinks about reaching out and giving her a friendly whack on the back, to clear out whatever has gotten stuck in her windpipe, but Mary laughs so loudly, Ava just ends up grinning instead.

Lilith eyes her critically. “Brendan Fraser isn’t the worst you could do, I suppose.”

It’s a glowing compliment coming from Lilith. Ava files it away for the next time she inevitably says something that isn’t.

Camila leans her head back, staring at Ava upside down. “Rachel Weisz is my ‘if I had to pick a girl’.”

“Fraser is not the guy I’d pick,” Mary says firmly. “I’m more of an Usher kind of girl.”

Shannon shrugs. “I think I’d take Mummy-Fraser over Tarzan-Fraser. The long hair is… Eh.”

The TV flickers, brightening the room as Rick O’Connell crosses the screen with a torch in his hand. Ava turns expectantly to Bea. “What about you?”

“What about-” Bea’s voice is slightly squeaky, if Ava had to put a word to it. Almost as if she doesn’t know where to break the syllables. “This movie was not my bisexual awakening,” she finally says.

“Well, of course not.” Ava reaches over and does touch Bea this time, patting her knee gently. “I assume you’d be too focused on the truth of all this history stuff to even focus on either of them.” She smiles warmly. “Am I right?”

Everyone seems to be looking at the two of them. Ava feels the room tip a little. She’s suddenly worried she said the wrong thing. She just thought, with Mary and Shannon clearly dating, that it’d be okay to say something like that. They seem to be open enough, not shying away from each other. But maybe she shouldn’t have. Or maybe it’s the movie choice. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Antonio Banderas also had something good going on.

Bea stares and Ava starts to count the seconds as they stretch.

“I’m not—” Bea begins haltingly, then stops. 

A tendril of panic curls around Ava’s chest. She just assumed. Sure, Bea never explicitly said she liked girls, but Ava isn’t usually wrong about this kind of stuff. Maybe she did get it wrong. Or maybe she just said it too loud. She has a tendency to barrel head first into things without thinking.

Bea clears her throat. “I suppose…” Her eyes dart over Ava’s shoulder to where Mary and Shannon are. Ava looks, smiling a little, still confused. “I suppose… Rachel Weisz is someone a person might find appealing.”

“Attractive,” Ava corrects, slightly relieved that she didn’t read Bea incorrectly. “And good choice.” She nods in total agreement. Bea’s taste is up there. 

She shoves her hand into the candy bowl that’s replaced the popcorn. M&Ms in this bowl, but Bea has Junior Mints. She looks up, mouth full, and finds Bea still staring back at her. An M&M falls out of her mouth and lands in her hand. She feels her face flush and she quickly tosses it back in.

Lilith’s face is twisted in disgust. There goes that good favor. But Mary and Shannon are looking at her too, and Ava gets a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” she says slowly. “I think I said something wrong.” Even though she has no clue what that might be. Her worry that she’s made Bea uncomfortable by talking about her sexuality rises again in her head. 

There’s quiet for a moment before Bea says, “No.” She reaches forward like she’s trying to get Ava to understand something but her hand hovers over Ava’s, the one with a small chocolate smudge on it, and she pulls it back into her own lap. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind…” Ava blinks, looks back again. Mary is staring at her and there’s a slight edge she hasn’t seen before. “That you like Rachel Weisz?” No one says yes or no and she’s still so confused. “I totally don’t mind, if that’s what you think. Like I said.” She points both of her thumbs back at herself and tries to smile in a way she knows is charming. “Awakening.”

Bea’s face is pinched, though. Ava has the strongest urge to press her hands to it and smooth it out. Mary clears her throat and Bea’s face does it all on its own.

“I mean, I’d still be okay with it if you liked Patricia Velasquez better,” Ava admits. “The gold costume was…” She whistles low and reaches out a hand, nudging Bea in the shoulder. Bea sways away and back in again stiffly, but she seems to be breathing out.

Ava exhales. She looks back over her shoulder and Mary is still looking at her but she’s smiling too, nodding once at her. Whatever test that was, she knows she passed it. And honestly, Bea can’t go wrong with either choice. And if she is into someone like Patricia Velasquez, Ava knows a girl in her Humanities class who can pull off that same kind of eyeliner.

She offers Bea the bowl of M&Ms silently, gesturing for the Junior Mints. Bea hands it over slowly, her eyes still searching Ava’s face. She hopes Bea finds whatever she’s looking for. Because she wants to show Bea that she’s someone to trust, that Bea made a good decision, and that moving in was something that was going to be great. 

She smiles encouragingly and Bea smiles back, ducking her head slightly. Ava turns back to the TV screen, silently passing Camila the bowl of Junior Mints in return for the Skittles. 

“Actually,” Bea says quietly, almost as if she’s only talking to Ava. “Did you know that Medjay, the Pharoh’s bodyguards in the movie, actually refers to people from the land of Medja. It was believed to be located in Nubia, near the Second Nile Cataract.”

Ava abandons the screen, turning to Bea now. “How do you know this stuff?”

Bea shrugs a shoulder. “I like knowing things.”

“We’re finding a trivia night and going out,” Ava decides. Lilith shushes her and she ignores it. “The brains between you, Shannon, and Camila, plus my good looks, Mary’s brawn, and the whole… scary thing Lilith has going on, we’ll clean up.”

Bea smiles fully this time. A pillow hits Ava in the side of the head but it doesn’t stop her from smiling back at Bea before snatching the pillow off the floor and holding onto it until Lilith wrestles it out of her hands ten minutes later.

~

They’ve moved onto pizza by the time Atlantis queues up on the TV. Six different boxes sit open on the breakfast bar, greasy plates on the floor and coffee table. Ava rests a hand on her stomach, her whole body stretched out and her socked feet dangerously close to a mushroom sliding around in a puddle of grease. She peers down. Bea’s plate is full of mushrooms, picked out from the other toppings.

Huh. No mushrooms. Maybe Bea does have a flaw.

“I dated a guy who looked like Milo once,” Camila offers. “Soft spoken, too.” She squints, looking into the middle distance. “I think his name was Ted.”

“Ted.” Mary wrinkles her nose. “There was a Ted in my Women’s Safety class freshman year. Thought it was an easy A and he’d get to feel up a few girls.” She scoffs. “He sure felt my fist in his stomach.”

Ava lifts an arm in solidarity, her whole body weighed down with hot dough and spicy tomato sauce. “I beat up someone once. When I was 6. He broke my ant farm.” She gets a sudden burst of energy as damp anger flows through her. She sits up. “I was the one who got in trouble though, the little jerk.”

Lilith pushes a piece of half-eaten veggie pizza towards Ava. Ava’s stomach protests, but the mushrooms are just that good, so she takes it and polishes off the rest of it. Lilith is warming up to her and Ava revels in it. It’s all part of her master plan to win Lilith over, one small step at a time.

With the understanding, of course, that she’s going to go backwards more than she goes forward. But she can tell how much Lilith means to Beatrice and she can play the long game. It’ll be a good exercise in patience.

“What about you, Beatrice? Beat a lot of people up? I know you can, like, kill a man with your bare hands.”

Lilith snorts. “Beatrice would never.”

Ava grins. “So you would?”

“No,” Bea says loudly over Lilith opening her mouth. “Our training is for self-defense. I have never found any reason to escalate a fight outside of tournaments and educational exercises.” She sees Ava’s eyes tracking the table and nudges the plate of mushroom slices towards her. She thinks she sees Bea’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Okay, but, if someone like Helga Sinclair - a total babe, by the way - came charging at you, you wouldn’t fight her?” Ava points at the screen where Helga is lifting boxes up, just to show off her muscles. Her mind gets stuck for a minute. They’re impressive arms. But then, Bea’s arms kind of look the same, now that she thinks about it. Helga has more of a Lilith-attitude, though.

Bea blinks. “She’s a cartoon character.”

“But if she was real,” Ava stresses. “Are you just too proud to tell me you’d wipe the floor with her pretty, 2-dimensional face?” She looks at Shannon. “Is she always this modest?”

Shannon snorts softly. “Yeah, Beatrice never really sells herself well.”

“We’re going to fix that,” Ava decides. Bea opens her mouth but Ava shakes her head. “It’s decided. Operation Beatrice is a Badass henceforth commences tonight, on this Saturday, in Apartment 3B. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Order.”

Bea’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “That’s not at all how that goes.”

“What a ridiculous thing to say,” Lilith mutters.

“It was kind of sweet,” Camila says kindly. “I think Beatrice needs a personal cheerleader.”

“Seems like Ava is up for the job,” Mary says. Her eyes are on Beatrice, a small smirk on her face. “I say go for it.”

Ava beams. “That’s four votes yes.”

Shannon hums. “I didn’t vote.”

“My vote counts twice,” Ava says without even looking at her. She goes to say something else, but Atlantis comes into view and she forgets what she was going to say, staring in wonder as Milo sees the lost city for the first time.

She watched this movie a lot when she was in the orphanage. Sister Frances was fond of donations and didn’t usually splurge on new things; a handful of DVDs, including Atlantis, were the last thing that showed up that wasn’t already in pieces by the time it got to them. Osmosis Jones was the other one, but one of the older boys broke it when he thought Osmosis Jones was living inside his body. 

Atlantis always caught her attention, though. The idea that there was a secret world out there where anything was possible? It was all she dreamed about as a kid, confined to a bed and locked away under Sister Frances’ crow-like eyes. She imagined she was Milo, on the hunt for the one thing that would make her life make sense. Sure, she never found her Atlantis, but Milo did. And she could live through that.

Her eyes stray to Bea. She’s caught herself doing that all night - constantly tuned into Bea, wondering what she’s thinking or if she likes Ava’s choices or if she’s regretting agreeing to this new living situation. She thinks everyone is warming up to her and it makes her grin. Friends. Friends she can hang out with and do movie nights and trivia nights and lunch dates like the one she has scheduled with Camila on Monday between her morning and afternoon classes.

And all thanks to the person who is quickly becoming her favorite person. Bea is her Princess Kira, showing her a whole new world. She frowns. Wrong movie. But then she shrugs; the point still stands.

“Well, you eat enough for two people,” Mary says, pulling Ava’s attention back in. She sounds impressed, though. “I’ve never seen anyone put away what you have in the last few hours.”

Ava grins and pats her stomach. “There’s still room in this ol’ thing. Just you wait.”

Mary shakes her head, a smile on her face. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you say.”

A rush of affection swells in her chest. No one has ever called her ‘baby girl’ before. Or said it with a smile like Mary’s, like it’s some secret between the two of them. She holds onto it. She wants to wear it again. She wonders what Bea will call her, what her nickname will be. 

“None of you seem to understand what a movie night is, do you?” Lilith cuts in. She has her arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed. “It means watching a movie, not talking through it.”

“I didn’t realize you liked this movie so much,” Mary says lightly. “If we knew it was your favorite-”

“Not my favorite,” Lilith sniffs.

“-we would have quieted down,” she finishes. “You heard her, ladies, no talking through Lilith’s favorite movie.”

Mary, unlike Ava, catches the pillow Lilith throws and chucks it right back, hitting her right in the face. Ava gasps but the sound is swallowed up by the growl of disbelief from Lilith, the weary groan from Beatrice, Shannon tutting, and Camila clapping her hands together lightly.

It takes considerable effort, and they have to rewind twice, missing the mark both times and just giving up, but now Ava can put an X across the “bloodshed” square on her “how to be friends with girls” bingo card.

Lilith pouts for the next twenty minutes, Mary gloats, and Ava eats two more pieces of pizza, chewing happily.

~

“You’ll like this one,” Ava promises Bea as she loads the DVD unseen into the player. “It’s Shakespeare.”

A soccer ball bounces across the screen and the look of confusion on Bea’s face deepens. Ava holds out a hand, anticipating a question.

“Just wait, okay? This is pop culture history.” 

Bea looks skeptical. “It really is,” Ava insists. “It takes Shakespeare and modernizes it. Think 10 Things I Hate About You. Think Romeo + Juliet. This is a cinematic marvel.”

“Sit down,” Shannon says without any bite. “We’ve liked the other ones so far.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lilith mutters. She scowls, but closes her mouth when Camila looks at her. 

Ava doesn’t let it bother her. She swears she saw Lilith crying at the end of Atlantis. But Shannon’s words give her enough courage to take her seat again and watch Bea’s face, eager to see her reaction. She doesn’t have to wait long.

“I love this movie!”

“Not this one.”

Ava looks between Shannon and Mary. They look at each other.

Shannon blinks first. “You don’t like this movie?”

“I want to strangle her boyfriend every time he’s on screen.” Mary scowls, like she’s imagining his throat under her hand. “And Channing Tatum is just…”

“He’s a baby in this movie.”

“He’s not a good actor in this movie.”

Camila raises her hand weakly. “I like him in Magic Mike.” She balks at everyone’s sudden frown. Ava shakes her head. “My freshman year roommate was, like, obsessed with him. Actually, I think her mom was. And it just sort of… trickled down.”

Ava reaches out and pats her head gently. “I’m so sorry. That sounds terrible.”

Camila shrugs. “We traded off. Horror movies for me-”

“Horibble movies for her,” Mary finishes.

Shannon shrugs. “Well, I like this movie. Though, Olivia and Viola should have ended up together.”

That, Ava can get behind. She nods furiously. “Best chemistry, definitely.” She reaches for her bowl of ice cream - she has a scoop of every flavor they got at the grocery store. She digs into it, lifting her spoon to her mouth before she pauses, speaking first. “Do you think Amanda Bynes really knows how to play soccer?”

“No,” echoes around her.

She shrugs. “Didn’t think so.”

They turn their attention back to the movie, ignoring the comments Lilith makes critiquing Sebastian’s girlfriend and Marcus the creep and the principal - who she says reminds her of her tutor. The one you made cry? Bea asks. Lilith grins with all her teeth. 

Ava soaks it in like the sun on a beach. She catalogues the way Bea laughs at the pizza shop scene, the way she repeats the ug-lay as if it’s some foreign word she’s learning for the first time. She wonders if she’ll ever hear Bea say it out loud. Maybe she’ll wear something really loud - a word she picked up from Chanel - and see what the reaction is. She watches the way Mary and Shannon whisper to each other, soft murmurs over Olivia and Viola-Sebasatian arguing about cutting open a frog. Even Lilith makes a noise that sounds like a short laugh when Duke shoves a tampon up his nose. Camila mouths the words along with the characters, body jerking a little as if she’s the one playing soccer on the screen.

If 12-year-old Ava could see her now. If 17-year-old Ava could see her now. She wouldn’t believe it. She’d think her whole world extended only as far as the four walls of that orphanage. But it doesn’t. It’s bigger and brighter and filled with the coolest people she’s ever met.

Amanda Bynes flashes the soccer team and Ava laughs and laughs until Bea is smiling and shaking her head - that look, the one Ava saw Bea give Camila, that slight hint of fondness, is aimed directly at her.

The Illyria soccer team wins against Cornwall and Ava feels like she’s won something too.

~

She barely hears the door click shut as Lilith closes it behind her, the last one to leave. 

Ava had watched Camila wrestle her bean bag back out into the hallway, smiling too brightly for someone still up at two-thirty in the morning before she slumped back down on the couch, her energy spent. Mary patted the top of her head with a heavy hand, smoothing it out with a smile, and Shannon had squeezed her shoulder gently in a goodbye before they followed Camila. Lilith had stayed, helping to pick up a few things and talking quietly with Bea. Quiet enough that Ava couldn’t hear it - and too tired to tune into.

The popcorn and the candy and the pizza and the ice cream were catching up to her, making her a little nauseous and a lot full. She slumped down further on the couch and watched Lilith move through the apartment like she knew all its corners. She couldn’t wait until she could do the same.

Bea closes the refrigerator now and turns to Ava, smiling. “Did you have fun?”

“Best night ever.” It’s not a lie. This has kicked ‘First Night out with Chanel’ off the top of her list without a care in the world. “Did you?”

“I had a very nice time. We haven’t done that in a long time.” Bea drifts closer. She sits on the edge of the couch, hovering a little above the cushion.

“Monthly movie nights, then.” A thought crosses her mind and she pouts. “Hey, we forgot National Treasure.”

Bea laughs breathlessly. “I think four movies in one night is more than enough, Ava. There will be more nights for movies.  We can watch it another time.” 

Ava nods decisively. “Monthly movie nights. We have all the time in the world.” 

“We do,” Bea says, and it feels a little bit like they’ll have this forever.

Ava reaches behind her, groping at the back of the couch until she finds the corner of the blanket she’s searching for. She pulls it down over her head.

She thinks she hears Bea laugh, soft and melodic. But she could be imagining it, a holdover from her being hyper-aware of each time she did during movie night. She curls into it and smiles into the arm of the couch. She doesn’t know how she started sliding down, but it’s comfortable here.

“Ava,” Beatrice says gently. “You have a bed.”

Ava pulls the blanket off her head and throws it onto her legs. She squirms, trying to get it to settle over her body. “But this is so comfortable. Where did you find this couch?”

“Shannon picked it out. I’ll ask her the next time I talk to her.”

“I’ve always wanted a couch like this,” she admits. “Big, comfy. Just for us.” Her eyes flutter closed and the room goes hazy before her vision goes dark. “I’m going to sleep here.” She wiggles again. The blanket tangles around her waist. 

Bea is quiet for a moment. “Come on. I have something for you.”

Her eyes open quickly, rolling off the couch and onto her feet. “What is it?”

Bea looks nervous but crosses the room to her bedroom, slipping in through the closed door. Ava hears some things moving and then Bea is in the living room again, hands clasped behind her back. She’s holding something.

“It’s- Now that I have it, I’m not sure it-” Bea takes a deep breath and smiles tightly. “I got you something. A sort of housewarming present.”

Ava grins. “I love presents. What is it?”

There’s still an undercurrent of nervousness in the way Bea uncharacteristically shifts. “Hold out your hands. And close your eyes.”

Ava immediately slams her eyes closed and thrusts her hands out. The air feels still but not uncomfortable. Silences with Bea don’t feel weird, which is crazy. So she doesn’t mind the wait as Bea obviously works up the courage to put something in her hands. After a long moment, she feels something soft and nearly weightless drop into her cupped palms.

Bea clears her throat. “You can open your eyes.”

Ava does. She blinks. A long, thin, soft stuffed animal with a white belly and tiger stripes stares back at her. She’s confused for a moment before the pieces slot into her place in her mind. “Is this… Is this Hobbes? From Calvin and Hobbes?

Bea’s cheeks are just the slightest hint of pink. She clears her throat again. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping.”

“It’s really not,” Ava rushes out. Her heart is too big in her chest. Her eyes start to burn a little, hot beads forming in the corners. “How did you-”

“The internet is more than just Wikipedia and Reddit.” Bea’s hands are tucked back behind her again. “But after our conversation…”

Their conversation. 

The one where Ava told Bea everything: her accident and the grueling years of work, the orphanage, years spent in the libraries reading everything she could get her hands on. She told her about the Peanuts comics she liked and how one of the older kids had called her Linus because she carried around a blue blanket for a few years. She told Bea about the hours she would spend reading the Calvin and Hobbes comic collections and pretending she could join them on their adventures: riding in a wagon, bubble bath statues, exploring the forest, sledding, waiting for the school bus.

She told Bea she always wanted a Hobbes stuffed animal to take with her on her own adventures, just as soon as she could go and have them. She’d never admitted that to anyone else, not even Diego, the little boy she shared a room with. But something about Bea made it easy to talk about these kinds of things, Maybe it was the way she listened. She didn’t judge, she didn’t laugh.

Ava knows that’s going to be a problem. She’s going to end up telling Bea everything all the time.

And when Bea is ready to talk more about herself, about what her parents were like and how they were never around, Ava is going to be ready to listen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

Bea’s voice is just as quiet. “I wanted to. You deserve to go on adventures.”

She breathes in slowly. “Today was an adventure. The best kind. And I know there’s going to be a million more.” She hugs Hobbes to her chest. “Because now I have someone. Two someones.” She smiles softly at Bea. “Hobbes. And you.”

Bea’s cheeks pinken just a hint more. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but closes it again. Ava doesn’t want to say anything either, afraid to break this precarious moment. So she just looks at Hobbes, her Hobbes, and feels her chest swell with affection for this new friend she’s found.

‘Thank you,” she whispers. Bea doesn’t whisper back, but Ava doesn't think she needs to. She places Hobbes carefully on the couch. She strokes down his soft belly, fingers lingering before she turns to Bea. “I’m going to hug you. Brace yourself.”

She sees Bea physically prepare for it, watches the muscles under her thin cotton shirt tense. And she laughs, inwardly, that Bea seems to ready herself, as if Ava is going to knock her down. But she doesn’t blame her. Ava crashes into her, arms tight around her middle, trapping Bea’s arms against her sides. She feels Bea struggle for a moment before she frees her arms. Hands hover above her back before Bea pats her gently. Ava grins into the soft skin of Bea's arm.

“I think we’re going to be best friends,” she says quietly in the space between them.

She doesn’t break away from the hug until her arms start to ache. Then she steps back, giving Bea a hesitant smile before she ducks around her, headed to her new bedroom with Hobbies in her hands. With a soft goodnight, she lets Bea have a moment to herself. She seems like the type of person who needs to recover from a hug, but Ava will take care of that.

She’s a very good hugger. And they have time.

[sunsetzer]

On one hand, I want a final fantasy 6 remake, because the game is criminally underrated and the amount of fan content (which is all absolutely fantastic btw) is Not Enough for my neurodivergent, hyperfixating brain.

On the other hand, that would inevitably encourage more people to join the fandom, which would be great, except it seems these days the bigger a fandom gets the more toxic it becomes, and I really like what we have going on over here in our little corner. We all just love the game and its characters and nobody fights about who should and shouldn't date who or who you shouldn't like because they're ~problematique~. Nobody's trying to make one ship morally better than another, nobody's calling anyone names or threatening to doxx people who don't agree with their opinions. It's so peaceful and I love that for us. We're just vibing. Moisturized. Unbothered. In our lane. Flourishing.

[ratgingi]

massive shout out to michy being my beloved default for this guide carrd

[runnning-outof-time]

I love writing girl dad Tommy lol. Cause I know Evie will drive him absolutely mental. Here we have this big, scary gangster man being absolutely tormented by a teenage girl. Tommy being very awkward about soothing his teenage girl after her first breakup. Because we know he would be awful at that but we love him for it.

Thanks for sending this in, Nova!! 🥰 Girl!Dad Tommy is one of my favorite things to write! I hope you don’t mind me using the family that I created in my Girl Dad miniseries for this - it was hard to resist!….and it got a little longer than a blurb.

This is also a call back to the blurb Just Some Puppy Love that I wrote with this family.

Surely the First of Many

Tommy Shelby x Reader

warnings: langauge, smoking

**no word count…I’m sorry, I didn’t think it’d get this long**

summary: Tommy finds Thea crying over a breakup in his office. He isn’t sure of how to console her. Thankfully (Y/N) comes in to help, and she tells him the secret behind it later in the evening.

Tommy didn’t expect to find his oldest daughter, Thea, in his office when he returned from work. He really didn’t expect to find her crying.

“Thea, what’s the matter?” he asked her, his brows furrowed as his mind ran through all of the possibilities of why she could be crying.

Sure this was the first of his daughters to become a teenageer, and knew a new set of challenges and experiences would come with that, but Thea was hardly the one you’d ever find crying. She was a ball of light, much like she was when she was younger. She was the one who consoled those who were crying.

Thea’s head shot up upon hearing her father’s voice. She swiped at her cheeks, hoping to hide her tears, but Tommy was easily able to see how puffy and red her eyes were. “Oh, sorry, dad…I—I just needed some place quiet to be,” she apologized for being in his office as she moved to stand up from the couch.

“Don’t apologize for being in here,” Tommy responded softly with a slight shake of his head, “why’re you crying, love?” he then asked.

“It’s…it’s nothing,” she shook her head in a dismissive manner and tried her best to pull it together. Her persistent sniffling told another story.

“Thea,” Tommy’s voice went flat, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Billy,” she started, her words coming out choked.

Scenarios immediately started swirling around Tommy’s mind, and he was imagining the worst. The boy that (Y/N) told him not to worry about when Thea was younger had now turned into her first boyfriend. “What did Billy do?” he asked, his voice still flat as he tried to control the anger he was now feeling. Whatever had happened, he knew that Thea didn’t deserve that emotion.

“He…he told me he didn’t want to be with me anymore,” she answered his question as the floodgates opened and her tears came spilling out again.

Oh fuck, immediately went through Tommy’s mind. He stood still for a moment as error messages practically bombarded his thoughts. He didn’t know what to do. Then he focused on his daughter, who was shaking from how hard she was crying. “Thea,” he called out to her as he moved over to sit next to her on the couch she’d sat down on again. “Thea, hey…” he trailed off, hesitantly wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

The teenager didn’t protest his touch, instead falling into it. Tommy was surprised by that and if anything it melted his heart slightly. She didn’t accept his hugs as eagerly as she used to when she was younger. He reveled in the feeling of her arms around him for a moment before pulling himself back to the task at hand…and with that came more error messages.

He didn’t know what to say to console her. Everything that was popping into his mind carried a tone of anger towards Billy for making his girl feel like this, but he knew that Thea didn’t want to hear that.

As if she was reading his mind, Thea asked a question through her sniffles: “why haven’t you said anything, dad?”

“I…I…” he stammered, mentally kicking himself for how useless he sounded. Thea looked up after he didn’t continue, and her watery eyes made him feel terrible for not knowing the right words to use in this moment. “Thea, I’m sorry…I don’t quite know what to say at the moment, I…” he paused, letting out a sigh, “I feel useless,” he sheepishly admitted.

Thea didn’t say anything in response. She blinked a few times, and more tears fell down her cheeks as a result. Then she fell back into his side, her arms going around his torso again. Tommy froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her again, hoping that his embrace would be enough. Nothing else was said after that and Tommy felt terrible. He wished he could find the right words each time he’d feel her body shudder, but nothing was coming up no matter how much he wracked his brain.

Then another voice called out.

“Tommy?”

It was (Y/N). She was now standing in the doorway looking rather concerned. Tommy looked to the door, and in him doing so, Thea looked up also. “What’s happened?” (Y/N) asked, rushing into the room as her motherly instincts kicked in.

“Billy said he doesn’t want to be with me anymore,” Thea immediately told her the reason why the two were huddled together in the room. Her admittance of this brought on another wave of tears.

“Oh, sweetie,” (Y/N) sighed, kneeling on the ground as she reached her arms out in the direction of her daughter. Thea accepted her hug quickly, falling into her mother’s embrace. (Y/N) rubbed her back and tucked her into her body, allowing her to cry.

She then looked over Thea’s shoulder, her eyes finding Tommy. The couple sent each other a look. Tommy still felt helpless and unsure of what he should do. Was there anything he could really do now? Thinking that the case, he slowly stood from the couch and motioned to it for (Y/N) to sit. She took the seat, silently giving him the go ahead to leave - she would take over from there. Tommy stood still for a few moments, scratching the back of his neck. What more could I do? he thought to himself.

“Did he give a reason?” (Y/N) asked her daughter. Thea pulled her head back enough so that she could respond. Tommy took that as his time to leave. This was a conversation between a mother and a daughter…plus, his staying may cause his anger toward Billy to increase.

So he exited the room.

He then found his youngest daughter, Juniper, in the front sitting room. “Hi, dad!” she chirped when she noticed he’d entered the room.

“Hello, Juni,” he smiled at her, moving over to where she was sitting.

“I’m playing with my toy horses!” she happily shared, holding up two of her favorite toys, “want to join me?”

“Sure, love,” he answered with a soft smile, taking the one that she offered him. He felt more in his element here, playing with horses, than he did consoling his daughter that was experiencing her first break up.

“How is she?” Tommy asked later that evening as (Y/N) entered their bedroom. He’d been in there for the majority of the evening after his two younger daughters had went to bed because (Y/N) and Thea were still in his office. He didn’t dare try to kick them out though…what she was going through was more important than his work.

“Alright…for now,” (Y/N) answered, sighing as she went behind her dressing screen so that she’d be able to change into her nightdress. “How long were you in there with her before I came home?” she asked after she finished changing.

“Not sure,” Tommy answered, shaking his head. “Felt useless to the situation though,” he then admitted.

“How so?” she questioned with furrowed brows as she climbed onto her side of the bed.

“Didn’t know what to say to her. All I felt was anger toward Billy,” he scoffed to himself before continuing, “fucking terrible that I don’t know how to console me own daughter, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Tommy,” (Y/N) sighed, curling into his side of that she could drape her arm across his chest. “I’m sure you just being there for her was enough to console her,” she said, sending him a knowing smile. Her smile then turned into something wicked before she said what was on her mind, “besides, it’s not like you’ve got any experience with breakups…considering you were the one doing the breaking up.” She was unable to contain her snickers as Tommy’s eyes widened in shock.

“You should know that…”

“Save it, darling. I was only teasing you,” she cut his defensive response off, patting his chest before she stretched her neck up to place a kiss against his jaw.

Tommy let out a huff before he reached over to pick up the cigarette that had been smoldering in the ashtray. He took a drag from it and tipped his head back, blowing the smoke out with a sigh.

“Dealing with breakups is much like dealing with all sorts of other things…” (Y/N) started, breaking the silence that had formed between them. Tommy lifted his head to look at her, wanting to hear what advice she had. “You’ll get better with it over time. The more you experience it, the better you’ll know how to respond,” she explained what she meant.

“Seeing my daughter’s heartbroken isn’t something I think I’m gonna get used to, (Y/N),” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s going to happen whether you’re used to or not. That’s the nature of having girls…and you’ve got three,” she shrugged as best she could with her body next to his. “This is surely the first of many.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Tommy sighed, tipping his head back again as he brought the cigarette to his lips once more. No amount of drags could dull the stress that he was feeling now, and the giggles coming from his wife surely weren’t helping.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad.

Wow was that long. If you stuck with it, I’d love to know what you thought! — I’m adding my Tommy taglist to the bottom.

Read more of the Girl Dad miniseries — HERE.

Check out my Main Masterlist — HERE.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[silkjade-archived]

& IF WE’RE ALL DRESSED UP, THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE LOOKING AT US

featuring— neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: implied fem!reader, nothing specific + no pronouns mentioned ⤀ summary: making your debut as a couple at the hallow's eve ball a/n: wrote this last minute but i'm in one of the latest timezones, so happy halloween ! (written before 4.2 aq)

"furina might be upset if we steal her spotlight tonight," you mutter, fingers nervously straightening the cravat resting at neuvillette's neck for the nth time tonight.

"let her be upset then. it’s not a storm i haven’t weathered before," he replies, wrapping his hands around yours before lowering them back down to your sides. he's sure you've fixed his cravat to be more than perfect already.

"yes, but garnering our archon's contempt isn't exactly something off my bucket list..."

a low hum ripples in his throat as he tilts is head in earnest trepidation. "are you having second thoughts?"

you shake your head—absolutely not. a secret relationship is no easy feat, much less one with someone as high profile as neuvillette, who in spite of his distaste for lingering within the public eye, is still often thrust into the spotlight by those hoping for a glimpse into the chief justice’s private life.

"just a little nervous I guess," you breathe.

to reveal the nature of your relationship, is a decision you've made as a united front. the gossip columns of the steambird already run rampant with thinly veiled monikers, and there's not much either of you can do when an 'honorable monsieur n' is once again spotted with a 'mystery someone'.

it'd open the floodgates to an onslaught of curiosities, but neuvillette would have the city be his witness, for though he still has much to learn about the ins and outs of human nature, he knows for a fact that his entire heart is yours. so whilst no authority in this land can truly stop the peoples' whispers, if fontaine wishes to talk, they can do so on your terms, without the threat scandal.

before the two of you, stands a pair of large double doors; the only thing between you and focalor's hallows eve ball, the only shelter from the costumed elite of fontainian society who's predatory eyes would land on you the second you step past the threshold.

to your left, neuvillette stands with an arm behind his back, a perfect gentleman costumed in the finest fabrics, the gold metal details glinting under the chandelier's light. with a deep breath, you straighten as you exhale, carrying the weight of your own matching costume with a dignity befitting of the iudex's lover.

coppelia and coppelius, two individual entities, who when together, waltzes amidst a flurry of ice and wind, persevering through any storm. gingerly, you take his outstretched hand, nodding as the doors creak open.

a/n2: tbh i only wrote this cus i thought coppelia & coppelius would be a super cool couples costume HAHA anways thanks for reading, and as always, reblogs + feedback are super appreciated ^^

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[valtsv]

hey people are being real fucking rude to you right now and i am sorry for it

i like your writing style, it is evocative and also very specific i feel? like yes sometimes there are single words that could get a thing across, but there is also skill in teasing out all the nuances from those terms and expressing them fully

idk if you even solicited critique on the way you express yourself or not

i hope you can have a good day in spite of that wild message

thank you. i didn't ask for critique, but i guess i opened the floodgates by answering a couple of asks where people shared their opinions on my writing style. i think a lot of them are missing the point that this is just my blog - my hobby - that i do for fun and for free, though. oh well lol. it's interesting to get other people's perspectives, even if some of them aren't particularly relevant.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

HI! Can I request Vox, husk or anyone else with a s/o who has an addiction problem?

Yes I know my Grammar and punctuation is out of line 🙏🏽

Hazbin Hotel x Addict!Reader

(Vox, Husk, and Angel Dust)

Viewer Discretion is Advised!

Warning: Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Gn!Reader, Reader being defensive, happy-ish endings.

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1170

A/n: Hi! Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing both Vox and Husk so I had to do some research (and by research, I mean reading 2+ hours of how other write them) to get an idea of their main characterization.

I really enjoyed writing this as I personally have my own experiences with addicts and how it’s affected me as a person. So this was also a little bit of a vent post if anything. I also added Angel cause I think it fits the theme but also he’s one of my comfort characters and writing for him made me happy.

Hope you enjoy <3

Proofread like once so sorry for any mistakes!



Vox

He’s used to being friends/knowing addicts. I mean one of his closest allies (And TOTES not previous hook-up buddy) Valentino, is also an addict who also employs many as well. So he’s not a stranger to it.

So mostly he’s indifferent to it, almsot desensitized to it. He doesn’t really see a danger to it, I mean we’re in hell and you can’t exactly OD and die

But of course, death isn’t the only thing that can happen when you're an addict. The breakdown of you as a person often happens, as well as you being reckless with money. And this is where Vox starts to have a problem.

If you’re in a relationship with Vox, then clearly you mean a lot to him, he may not be the most expressive about it but he does. So to see the partner that he has opened up to and grown attached to deteriorate slowly in front of him is something he refuses to accept.

So one day he cancels a meeting with his staff and calls you to his office so you two will be alone. When you get there he gives you a cup of coffee and you catch up a bit. How was your day? Have you ate yet? Those kinds of things.

Until finally he decides to just break open the floodgates with one simple statement.

“Darling… I think you should get clean”

You were caught off guard at first

“It’s fine, What’s the problem? we’re in hell”

He then comes out with his honest opinion

“*Sigh* I know it’s hell and you can’t die… but surely you can see how it would make me a bit… worried for you.”

He paused

“I mean even last week you spent all the allowance I gave you on it and you would have starved if I didn’t buy you food, surely you can see why it’s a fucking problem!”

Eventually after talking and depending on how it goes you either agree to go clean or it ends with an argument and he’ll just try again later.

If you agree, he’ll make sure he’s with you ever step of your sobriety. Considering he’s one of the top rising Overlords and owns VoxTech he’s got money so He’ll higher the best people to help you go clean(Do therapist exist in hell?)

“Thank you dear, you have no idea how much this means to me”

Husk

Similar to Vox in a lot of ways but also really different. He himself is an addict with alcohol so he clearly understands the struggles of it.

He has lots of walls up but for someone who “lost the ability to love” he sure does care a lot for you. I don’t think he would try a get you to go clean, at least not right away (or even at the beginning of the relationship) simply cause he thinks he doesn’t have a right to judge. So in all honesty he might just let you be.

That is until he realizes that you do it to forget things and ignore your problems/past. He knew first hand that drowning your sorrows away with your choice of addictive vice did nothing but harm you.

Then when you two are alone at his bar he’ll talk to you about it in a similar way he did with Angel. Perhaps a bit more softer than he did with Angel but even then “softer” is a bit of an overstatement.

“Look, I know you got a lot of shit that you don’t want to think about… but doing this *sigh* it’s not going to work, at least not in the long term.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He laughs. I mean, you were right. He was single handedly the worst person to be judging you. But surely you can understand his point of view, right?

Either way though, he leaves it alone again. Occasionally bringing it up when you’re both alone. He expresses the same sentiment about it each time hoping that eventually, hopefully…you’ll come to see from his perspective.

When you do finally see that he’s worried for you and understand why, you agree to go clean. Which, for once in a long while, made his supposedly cold dead heart melt.

“Glad you finally came to your senses… Seriously, I’m glad…”

Angel

He is THE addict of the show, so obviously he knows what you are going through and THEN some. Now,. Here’s the thing, how he handles it depends HEAVILY on when exactly you got with him/when you started having you addiction problem.

If you started dating him when you already were an addict he most definitely wouldn’t question anything about it. Hell, chances are you both might have taken part in it together. And it’s only when he starts making progress in the hotel (post EP4) is when he starts realizing how bad of an influence you both were on each other.

If you started sometime AFTER you both started dating then this boy would honestly feel terrible about it, ESPECIALLY after EP4 when he actually started being sober more often. He’d feel like he was a bad influence on you and that it was his fault you turned to your addiction.

Either way though, he will eventually realize that he doesn’t want you to be/continue to be on the same path he was. He’d talk to Charlie about arranging you to stay in the hotel, either in your own room or you guys could share one (he would honestly prefer the latter) and then after the preparations are made he would finally ask you too

Angel wasn’t expecting it to be easy, he gets what it’s like to suddenly be asked to go clean. And he knows how addicts act when they don’t get there vices, how he acts. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst first before asking you to come over and talk.

“Uh… Y/n can I talk to you about somethin’?”

You nod your head

“I’ve been thinking and… I think you should crash here at the hotel with me… and’ go clean.”

You only laugh “Angie I’m glad this hotel thing is workin’ for ya but that’s not really my style. No- I mean, I’m fine!”

Angel knows he put you on the spot, so he lightens off a bit but continues pressing on. He explains how he feels and how he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, to end up where he is. The poor boy starts crying honestly with how much he’s worried. He rarely opens up to people so this was a big step for him.

Seeing how much he cared and worried about you really put into perspective how important this was to him. So you agreed after some thinking.

“*sniff* thank you Baby, I’ll be there with you every step of the way… I love ya’ you know.”

[xstevex-world]

Steve Harrington’s favourite musician has been the same since he was 17.

He distinctly remembers hearing Chrissy Cunningham play in his car radio during his senior year, subsequently listening to nothing but her breakout EP for a week straight - and that was just the beginning.

He followed all of work for over the past 7 years: bought physical and digital copies of all her albums, watched every music video multiple times, read every interview, saved up enough while working weekend shifts at scoops to get tickets to her sold out shows in Indiana - he had so much merch that Jonathan Byers once joked that Steve could probably make a shrine to his idol.

He had even kept up during her hitatus, almost two full years of radio silence from the star, like she had disappeared off the face of the earth. It wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened, but it didn’t help that it overlapped with him dropping out of business school to pursue a career in cosmetology and that final falling out he had with his father over his choice in education.

The day she came back felt like Christmas.

Her comeback announcement dropped on June 13th - and it wasn’t just a new post on social media or a candid shot online someone managed to snap.

It was a whole EP drop, 4 entire songs (and a music video) that he knew he was going to play on repeat after 716 days of radio silence.

That opened the floodgates for everything to start again: she went back on social media, thanked her fans for their wholehearted response to her new releases. She started doing interviews again: discussing her mental health and the impact of her mothers control in her life; her reunion with her best friend (and apparent ex) from high school; her label dropping her after it was found that her “momager” had embezzled a huge amount of money from said company, releasing her from her contract early and allowing her to find new partners, new producers, new projects.

She talks about how she’s never been happier, and Steve can’t help but beam at it. He can hear it in her music, how it’s going more against the grain of what’s popular, opting instead for etherial synths mixed with heavy guitars. She sings about heartbreak and moving on and being better than then the people who brought her down for long, now that she’s starting fresh.

Steve loves it, thinks some of the changes have something to with Eddie Munson’s name appearing in the credits of all her new material.

Truthfully, he got curious after someone on Twitter posted a screengrab of cameos made by Munson and his own bandmates in all of her new music videos. He thankful someone else made the connection, and although he’s not the biggest fan of Corroded Coffin’s music (apart from the collaboration EP they did with Chrissy: “CCxCC presents Satanic Slumber Party”, that was incredible), he would lying if he didn’t say he was totally enamoured by Eddie goddamn Munson.

Let alone the fact that he’s totally Steve’s type (big hair, bigger eyes, a complete dork with a heart of gold but who also looks like he would bite someone in both a feral dog and a “please take me to your bedroom right now” kind of way), the guy is a genius when it comes to music, spending interviews talking about the process of artistry and the importance of storytelling - even when they’re discussing songs about him, written by Chrissy about their break up, he’s still so passionate and witty, the two of them spending interviews bouncing off each other in a way that would rival his relationship Robin.

He’s fine, really, he knows logically this is just a celebrity crush that will pass if he stops thinking about it for long enough, but he’s certain that this could develop into one of those all encompassing obsessions if he doesn’t curb it now- and that’s exact what he does. He tries to put that energy into school, excelling more than he ever did in an academic setting. He meets up more often with Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and Barb, inviting them over more often for dinner or drinks, sometimes even just because he wants to make a breakfast feast and need someone else to eat it.

It’s at times like this that he misses Robin, who only has about 6 weeks left of her internship in Paris - he hasn’t seen her in person since he went to visit her a few months ago during spring break. He wishes she was her to openly judge him over this, before rambling on about her own current hyperfixation or moaning about her lack of romantic adventures since she and Vickie broke up.

They still talk on the phone every afternoon (nighttime for her), ranting to each other about their perspective day and sharing any worthwhile gossip.

Tonight’s no different, he’s telling her about the current drama happening in his classes when Robin says:

“I met someone today.”

He’s ecstatic - in his opinion robin deserves the world and the fact she’s met someone on her own in a city where she has been finding it hard interacting with people outside of her placement is a miracle in itself.

She tells him more: how she met this girl that morning at café, acting as a knight in shining armour (Robin’s words, not Steve’s) when the girl got flustered trying to order her coffee in broken French; how she spent the day showing this girl around to her favourite shops and parks and museums; how they spent hours talking about everything and nothing; how Robin hasn’t felt this way about someone since Vickie.

“So then we had dinner at that Italian place, the one I took you to, and, Steve, oh my goddess, she has the cutest little laugh-“

“Did you get her name?”

“Oh, sorry” he can hear her move the phone from one ear to the other. “Yeah it’s Chrissy.”

Steve stops his pacing. That would be one hell of a coincidence, if it was Chrissy Cunningham. She is playing in Paris the following night, the penultimate stop of her current tour. (The very show that he had been tempted to go to, since he could stay with Robin. It absolutely wasn’t because Corroded Coffin was joining her for the European leg of the tour - acting as her band, as well as performing songs from their collaboration as the encore - something that did not happen at any of the American shows). It couldn’t be the same Chrissy that Robin had fallen head over heels for in the space of a few hours, right?

“Did you get any of her socials?” He asks, cautiously.

“Nope,” she answers, popping the p for emphasis. “I didn’t think to ask, because I’m an idiot and all that-“

“Robs,” he interrupts, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re not an idiot.”

Her hears her laugh on the other end of the line, the same kind of self-deprecating giggle she uses when she’s nervous. He wishes he was there with her so she could see him roll his eyes at her, their main way of communicating their love.

“What did she look like?”

“Oh!” She exclaims as he hears her tumbling over something (knowing Robin, probably herself). “We took a picture together, hold on, I’ll send it over.”

His phone vibrates against his ear, so he brings it in front of him, putting Robin on speaker so he can see the photo.

And.

Holy fuck.

“Robin,” he says slowly, because he actually can’t believe it himself. “Do you know who that is?”

((Part 2))

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

I’m gonna keep writing Nimona headcanons til someone stops me cause they’ve taken over my life

Ambrosius was forced to suppress his emotions basically his whole life 

He used to be one of those guys who would say shit like “I haven’t cried in 15 years”

But not as like a weird subtle brag just as stating a fact which made it more depressing 

Once the wall came down it’s like the floodgates opened this man will cry when he’s happy sad angry stressed 

You name it he’s crying 

And he’s not a pretty crier either which is funny cause there is a whole compilation of “Ambrosius being unreasonably photogenic” 

Bal was the typical crybaby growing up 

He was constantly bullied for it and it only got worse when he was at the institute 

A lot of his classmates and teachers would try and be “helpful” and give him tips to stop crying  

Ambrosius was the only one who encouraged him to cry and deal with all his emotions 

It’s pretty rare to see Bal cry now but it happens occasionally when he’s sad or stressed or really happy  

Seeing Nimona cry is a rare phenomenon 

Bal and Ambrosius have only ever seen her cry four times 

The first was when they were on Gloreth’s statue at the end of the movie, the second Gloreth’s statue was fully taken down, the third was when the adoption paperwork was finalized and the fourth was their wedding 

But she denies it literally every single time 

Pinky promises are sacred for the trio

Back when the boys were training they would only make pinky promises about big things 

And if they broke those promises there would be big consequences like giving up your dessert for two months 

It was a habit that Bal subconsciously passed onto Nimona 

The trio never really talked about it but there was a silent mutual understanding that they held weight

The first pink promise Ambrosius ever made was right after Nimona started trusting him and had enough respect for him to hold a conversation without hissing 

And he swore that he would never consciously hurt Bal or Nimona again 

Nimona made a joke about that being a big promise to make 

And Ambrosius said “That’s why it’s a pinky promise”

I feel like Bal and Ambrosius never tried to hide their relationship the kingdom is just stupid 

They were highly encouraged by the staff and family to keep it under wraps but they said fuck that noise I wanna hold my boyfriend's hand in public 

The fellow knights in training knew something was up but they didn’t figure it out until the wall fell

Todd was the most outspoken when they first started dating he used to go around and tell people “No one looks at their bro like that”

After a while they stopped giving a fuck and they didn’t really have enough time or energy to ask because they were too busy getting their asses handed to them by the boys 

A lot of citizens had this weird misconception that they had this heated and bitter rivalry 

There were entire articles written about how they were “The rivals of the century” 

And the boys would get together and dramatically read every single one of them

Whenever the boys were in a bad mood they would reference the articles like this 

“Hey sunshine did you know I joined the institute specifically to dethrone you?” “You know what moonbeam I didn’t but thanks for telling me” 

“Bal I just want you to know that I am utterly seething at the cruel defeat by your hand” “Oh I’m so sorry love I’ll make sure to kick your ass nicer next time”

[pinkanonwrites]

So I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if I could suggest Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Azul with an s/o who had horrible scarring and doesn’t talk about it. So naturally the boys would assume it’s a sensitive topic, and treat them delicately… But turns out that those scars are from something stupid like getting into a fight with a raccoon.

Sure thing! As expected, this ended up being a bit silly. Hope you enjoy!

GN! Reader

The first time Riddle saw your scars was when you rolled up your sleeves while helping Trey bake for the next Unbirthday party, simply trying to not let your cuffs dip into the sticky batter. Both his and Trey's gazes lasered in on the horrendous scarring up and down both your arms, but neither of them said anything besides sharing a small, worried glance. He wanted to ask you about them but knew this was neither the time nor the place to do so.

Other Heartslabyul members can tell from a glance not to bring them up, lest they risk a swift and merciless collaring by their housewarden. Whenever your arms are revealed Riddle's expression tightens, surveying the room as if he's daring his fellow students to make a comment or ask a question about them.

When he finally musters up the courage to ask about them, reassuring you he finds you beautiful and just wants to know if you're hurting, boy if he doesn't feel a bit silly when he finds out you got them from trying to pick up an opossum when you were a little kid. His cheeks get all puffed out and his face turns red, promptly shutting himself up and turning away as you coo and thank him for being so worried about your well-being. He does enjoy the praise, as flustered as he looks.

Lazing around with Leona in the midday sun of the conservatory, you stretched your arms over your head and accidentally revealed to him a series of long, thin scars that ran over each of your sides, just above your hip. His brow furrowed as your shirt covered them once more, cupping a clawed hand gently over your hip and tugging you close to snuggle up to him.

He's always liked to wrap a hand around your hip to keep you close to him, to stake his "ownership" of you. But now he does it so gently, so lightly it almost tickles as he rubs his thumb back and forth over the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You do the same to him sometimes, running your thumb so lovingly over the scar on his face when he rests his head in your lap, the least he can do is offer the same comfort.

You finally mention where you got the scars when Leona comes to visit Ramshackle. As you liken the rickety house to an abandoned building you and your friends explored near your school, mentioning how cut up you got squeezing through one of the shattered doorways, it finally clicks for him. From there the teasing floodgates are opened, and every time he finds you with a little scuff or scrape he asks if you were reigniting your urban exploration fantasies.

After Jamil's overblot, when you rolled up your pant cuffs to splash around in the cool water of the oasis, that's when Azul first saw your scars. Dozens of jagged lines and puncture marks everywhere from your ankles all the way up to your knees. It made his stomach turn a bit, trying to imagine what or who might have inflicted you with those gashes.

He's often hovering around you, making sure you don't get bumped into or lose your balance. If he's not available you'll usually have one or both of the twins observing you from a safe distance, boss's orders. He doesn't want anyone else harming his precious pearl, after all.

When you finally mention that you got all those scars from the wild raspberry bushes around your childhood home, he assumes you're joking with him. He knows what raspberries are, he isn't stupid, but are the bushes really that dangerous? One small hike with Jade later serves to prove that yes, they are, especially if you're a reckless little kid wearing shorts in the summer. He chides you, warning you to not do anything so rash in the future.

Jamil had seen your scar the very first day you had met, along with just about everyone else in school. It wasn't exactly easy to miss; the curved line cutting across your forehead and down into your eyebrow was painfully obvious to anyone who looked at you for more than a few minutes. He didn't think about it much until the two of you actually began interacting on a daily basis.

He watches you a lot, only when he thinks you aren't looking (and often times you aren't). He's not the type to bring it up on his own, it's none of his business after all, but he does worry about you. He's on edge whenever you mention having a headache, even if it has nothing to do with your scar at all.

You mention it offhand one day, the stupid cause of your forehead scar. The man who was re-shingling your house roof when you were a kid knocked a metal bucket off the edge when you were heading out to school, and instead you had to get rushed to the E.R. for stitches. As you proudly regale the story of the ice cream cake and flowers the repairman bought as an apology Jamil breathes a sigh of relief, almost visibly melting into his seat. Now he'll just have to make sure nothing that unlucky happens to you again.

[gragrace]

He's Home

Summary: Spencer meets GN!Reader back at their apartment after being released from prison.

WC: 580

AN: short cute drabble. Send me some requests college is taking over my life rn xxxx

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The door creaked open, and Y/N glanced up from the book they were pretending to read. The weight of the last few months hung heavily in the air, and they could sense the exhaustion etched on Spencer Reid's face. His eyes met theirs, a mixture of relief and vulnerability flashing in those familiar hazel orbs. 

"Hey," Y/N murmured, setting the book aside and rising from the couch. They took a few steps toward him, and Spencer's gaze softened as he closed the door behind him. 

"Hey," he replied, his voice carrying the weariness of the world. Without a word, Y/N enveloped him in a tight embrace. Spencer hesitated for a moment before allowing himself to be held, the hard exterior he had built up during his time in prison beginning to crumble. 

Y/N felt the tension in Spencer's shoulders, the weight he carried, and they gently rubbed soothing circles on his back. The silence between them spoke volumes, the unspoken understanding of the challenges he had faced and the toll it had taken. 

"I missed you," Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible. 

Y/N pulled back slightly, cupping his face with both hands. "I missed you too, Spencer. It's okay now. You're home." 

Home. The word hung in the air, carrying a profound significance. Y/N led Spencer to the couch, urging him to sit down. He complied, and as Y/N joined him, they could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the walls crumbling as he let down his guard. 

The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioner. Y/N waited patiently, knowing that Spencer needed time to process, to release the emotions he had bottled up for so long. 

And then, it started – a quiet tremor in his shoulders, a hitch in his breath. The floodgates opened, and Spencer Reid, the brilliant profiler with an intellect unmatched, allowed himself to be vulnerable. He buried his face in Y/N's shoulder, his grip on them tightening. 

Tears escaped from his closed eyes, silent witnesses to the turmoil he had endured. Y/N whispered soothing words, offering comfort and understanding. It was a moment of catharsis, a release of the pain and trauma he had accumulated during those challenging months. 

"I thought I could handle it all," Spencer admitted, his voice breaking. "But it's just been... so difficult." 

Y/N continued to hold him, offering a safe haven amidst the storm. "You don't have to be strong all the time, Spencer. It's okay to let it out. You're not alone." 

He nodded, unable to find words as the weight of his experiences unfolded in the safety of Y/N's embrace. Time seemed to lose its significance as they navigated the uncharted territory of healing. 

Eventually, the storm within Spencer subsided, leaving behind a sense of raw vulnerability. Y/N gently pulled back, wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks. Spencer met their gaze, gratitude and exhaustion lingering in his eyes. 

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. 

Y/N offered a tender smile. "Always, Spencer. I'm here for you. Home is where you can be yourself, walls down and all." 

As they sat together in the quiet aftermath, the warmth of the shared moment enveloped them. Home was not just a place; it was the solace found in each other's arms, a refuge from the trials of the world. Spencer Reid, once burdened by the weight of his experiences, now found a sanctuary in the unwavering support of Y/N. 

—

Mwah!💌

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 14

14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation 

cw past trauma, implied noncon/torture, hurt/comfort, aftermath of whump

“You’re slower than usual,” Hero teased when they pinned Villain to the wall. “Lost your edge after that little vacation you took?” 

Villain was breathing heavily. Their hands grasped at Hero’s, which were fisted in the front of their suit, but Villain lacked their typical strength. “Wasn’t a vacation, you jerk,” they huffed. “And I’m doing my best here.” 

Hero pulled one of their hands back, and their heart jumped when Villain flinched away from them; they’d never reacted like that before. The instinctual fear was clearly visible in their eyes.  

“Whoa, hey,” Hero said softly. “I was just gonna—your mask is slipping.” 

Villain looked down, frowning. “Sorry. I just...go ahead.” 

Hero raised their hands slowly and adjusted Villain’s mask, noting the sharp intake of breath when Hero’s fingers grazed their cheek. As they put it back in place, Hero could see a dark bruise hiding under the mask. The slightest bit of purple spread up their cheekbone. 

Villain was trembling when Hero stepped back. 

“Are you okay?” Hero asked. Logically, they knew they should take advantage of Villain’s weakness and bring them in. But they just couldn’t bring themself to be that cruel. 

“When I was gone this week,” Villain whispered, “I was...Supervillain took me hostage. I’ll spare you the details but...they did some shit to me I wouldn’t even do to my enemies.” 

Hero felt their heart ache at the admission and the pained expression in Villain’s eyes when they looked back up. “I’m sorry, I—I had no idea.” 

“Not your fault,” Villain said with a shrug. They tried to force a smile as well, but it didn’t quite work. “But it messed me up pretty good. I can’t sleep. I can’t move without remembering their hands on me.” 

A sick feeling curled in Hero’s stomach as they imagined what the normally collected Villain must have been through to have them on the verge of tears at the memory. They slowly reached out, giving Villain enough time to stop them—but when they didn’t, Hero pulled them into an embrace. “It’s over,” they muttered into Villain’s hair. “You're safe now.” 

Their words seemed to open the floodgates, and suddenly Villain broke down. Hero didn’t know what to do, so they just held their nemesis as they cried. The fact that they’d been in the middle of a fight passed through Hero’s mind, but it didn’t matter now. They were a hero—their job was to help people. Even if those people regularly made their life hell. 

“I’m sorry,” Villain choked out. “This is pathetic. And I—I deserved it.” 

“No one deserves to be hurt like that,” Hero said, rubbing their back in soothing circles. 

Villain tried to steady their breathing as they looked up at Hero, eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you. Just—give me a minute, and we can get back to it.” 

“What do you say we get a rain check,” Hero asked with a small smile, “and you let me buy you a coffee instead?” 

Villain sniffled and rolled their eyes. “As long as you promise to reschedule. Because I was looking forward to kicking your ass.” 

Hero laughed. “Okay, deal.” 

Although the coffee may not have truly fixed anything, it was a welcomed comfort. 

taglist: @morning-star-whump

[skibasyndrome]

"Are you mad at me?" and Honesty

inspired by the awesome parallel @impossibleknots found between these two shots

and these tags by @darktwistedgenderplural I'd like to talk about this

For both of them, this line comes after a breaking point, when they realize that they just can't stay away from each other for any longer.

Wilhelm, after rejecting Simon out of some misplaced sense of duty and swallowing down his grief about it, literally breaks down on the football field and, fuelled by alcohol and drugs, for once manages to let his guard down.

"You think you know me, eh? You don't!", he yells, followed by "That's right, I do whatever I want!". And then, well, he does what he wants and calls up Simon. And he's finally honest with him. Granted, it's very much the drugs that help him let his guard down, but - in an effort to be less fake than everything that surrounds him - he tells Simon that he likes him. That's one of Wilhelm's first and most authentic verbal declarations of what he feels. And from then on, at least for now and at least in front of Simon, the floodgates are open and he's baring his soul: "Thank you for coming", "You're so beautiful", all his little love declarations, and then he's letting him in on his insecurities as well. "Are you mad at me?" and, after once again declaring that he's so glad Simon is here, "I don't want you to be mad".

It's one of those things he hasn't been allowed to voice or even show, we know this. When he's nervously biting his thumb in s1e1 his mother slaps away his hand, lest he be seen behaving unprincely, and he's thoroughly internalized keeping up the facade, like when we hear him blatantly lie to Simon about being happy to be at Hillerska. Everything and everyone being fake, that includes him, Wilhelm. (And we know that his journey in deconstructing this fakeness is only starting out)

But at least for the time being, he's able to stand by his feelings for Simon. He does still need his assurance that "it's okay" once he's confronted about his love declaration, but he still does admit to it. And that honesty is what leads to them making love for the first time.

Letting their guard down, fully committing to what they're feeling for each other. Honesty is what leads to this.

The second time, it's Simon's turn to bare his soul. Yes, Simon has been the one that has helped Wilhelm be more honest and more vocal about his own feelings, but Simon himself, while forthcoming about his love and the fact that he wants to be with Wilhelm, is still struggling himself, especially when it comes to voicing his not so pleasant feelings, like how heartbroken he's feeling for all of s2.

Even during their 'exchange' in class, it's still only about him slowly starting to see Wilhelm's side, and not about the uncomfortable and conflicting things Simon himself is feeling on the inside.

So when he worriedly texts Wilhelm "Are you mad at me?", that's him admitting that, yes, he's also very much still invested in this, in them and that that's scary, unnerving and that he's not sure how to read the situation. He's letting his insecurity show, something he very, very rarely does. Beautifully, he does it again later, now face to face with Wilhelm. After Wilhelm says that he's scared, Simon admits it, too, letting down his walls for Wilhelm to see that he's not as tough as he pretends to be AND he lets Wilhelm be the one to comfort him, reach out his hand and take him ino his arms.

So in one instance, we have Wilhelm finally letting his true feelings show, proving to Simon - who's been open about his attraction - that the feeling is mutual. And in the other we have Simon, who up until now has been trying to keep his conflicting feelings under wraps and his fear hidden, reassured and coaxed into admitting to them by Wilhelm openly saying that he also is scared and physically showing that he's there for him. Mutual honesty.

Two very different admissions and two very different subjects that they now finally managed to be honest about and every single time it brings them closer and, in both scenes, it repairs the trust that was broken by dishonesty before.

And what makes it even more beautiful to me is that, in addition to it being in a way a new beginning every single time, we know that both instances did have a lasting impact on both of them and their journey towards being more honest with each other. Yes, there are ups and downs and Wilhelm did lie to the world about the video after their first time, but he keeps on learning and the second time around, he is much more honest about his love for Simon. And we even see it bleed into the last episode with Simon now finally admitting to just how much he feels for Wilhelm and Wilhelm in turn finally taking back his initial lie in front of the whole world.

Their journey towards full honesty is still very rocky, but with every instance of them letting down their guards together, they grow closer and their ability to be authentically themselves not only together but also towards the world vastly improves.

[octuscle]

Changed taste

Callum had left after the second act. The production at the alternative opera had been a cheek. The singers had been a disaster. And the announcement of the underground strike had been a good excuse not to have to listen to this debacle to the end. Unfortunately, the underground drivers had shown no consideration for Callum. The strike had already begun. The underground shafts were deserted. So it was a taxi. This contradicted Callum's attitude to sustainability. He always excused his flat in Kensignton by saying that it was so centrally located that he didn't need a car. Only a few of his friends knew that there was an old Jaguar E-Type and a brand new Porsche 911 in the underground car park. Callum's family had made a fortune from property speculation over 100 years ago. He owned the exclusive block of flats in which he lived. This and a few more.

When he came up from the underground, it had started to rain. And he had left his umbrella in the cloakroom at the opera. Underground strike and rain. Not a good combination for getting a taxi. In the shelter of the entrance to the underground, Callum searched on his mobile phone. A bus station was only 200 metres away. And it wasn't raining that hard. So he set off. And after a few metres, the heavens opened their floodgates. A downpour of torrential proportions drenched Callum in a matter of seconds. His dinner jacket was ruined. And his mobile phone only flashed once more before it died in the pouring rain.

The rain intensified. The few passers-by who hadn't yet found shelter quickly ran through the puddles to find somewhere to hide. Callum's best chance was a launderette where the owner or employee was about to lower the blinds. Callum asked if he could seek shelter until the rain had stopped. The young man looked at Callum and waved him in. He introduced himself as Kieron and said that he had to wash and dry a washing machine for himself while he cleaned the launderette. Callum would be happy to stay here for that long. Callum thanked him and asked if he could return the favour somehow. Kieron shook his head and showed Callum where he could find hangers to hang up his wet clothes. And pointed to a basket of washing. A customer had left it here. Callum could take some of it if he wanted to.

The clothes were obviously still unwashed. They smelled of sweat and cold cigarette smoke. There were dried precum stains in the pants. Callum was disgusted. But also soaking wet. And somehow he was… Turned on? Him? By those disgusting clothes. Kieron had switched on some music. Very loud. Gangster rap and hip hop. Definitely not Callum's style. But that didn't matter. He took the laundry basket and asked where he could change. Kieron pointed to the door with the "Private" sign. There were towels there too. Callum thanked him.

After pulling the door shut behind him, Callum took off his shoes, jacket, trousers and shirt and hung everything on hangers. A little hesitantly, he also removed his stockings, pants and vest. He was able to wring everything out, everything was so wet. He took a pair of boxer shorts out of the laundry basket. Yellowed white cotton. Precum and piss stains. Callum smelled it carefully. And then he pressed them to his nose and inhaled deeply. So good! He had no idea why, but it smelled so good! Slimy drops formed on his own cock. The pants were a size 32, not his size. But they fit like a glove. His bulge was frighteningly large. And the wet patch was growing fast. Callum rummaged through the dirty laundry. The polyester tracksuit bottoms did it to him. He pulled them on, just high enough so that the waistband of his pants could still be seen. Now a pair of dirty white socks… Call took his trainers. Yes, they were still a little wet… But they would be fine. The T-shirt that went best with the trousers stank of sweat. Sure, Call had worn it for several days in a row. For sport, in the pub in the evening. During the day, he wore the Hiviz street-cleaning gear. He took his necklace, which he was so proud of, out of his T-shirt. Then he took his tracksuit jacket off the hanger, put on his gloves, put on his cap and posed in front of the mirror. If he played with his balls a little longer, he would cum here and now. Then Kieron would be fucking pissed. After all, making Call cum was his job.

"I hope the damn rain stops soon!" That was the caption under his latest post. Kieron shouted about how much longer he needed. Call opened the door and shouted back that it was up to Kieron when he could finally cum. A few seconds later, Kieron was standing in the doorway, grinning. He put the mop to one side. And got down on his knees.

Inspiration by @barty123

[justwinginglife]

Hi!! I saw that you’re taking requests,. I luvvv luv ur hoshina fics sm!! Can I request for an nsfw (if it’s okay)hoshina doing their first time with an innocent gf!reader

Thanks so much for the support! And yes, you can always ask for nsfw, gives me a reason to think about all the sexy lil things the man can do, wink wink.

It's Valentine's Day, the horniest day of the year, and this year Soshiro Hoshina is its number one victim.

It's been nearly three months since you've started dating him, and the poor guy has barely even held your hand for fear of what he might do to you if he's touching you longer than a few minutes. Hell- at one point, one second was even enough to send the blood flowing down to his crotch.

Once, before you were dating, you asked him to adjust your fighting stance and the feeling of your delicate hips curving beneath his fingers was enough to make him excuse himself so he didn't fuck you right there in front of all the other rookies. Of course, shortly after, he did run to the bathroom and fuck the hand that touched you.

And it doesn't help that you're a good shot. Every time he sees you shoot a gun, hand firmly on the grip, fingers curling ever so slightly over the trigger, your fiery eyes staring down your target as you exhale, lips parting, and then squeeze the trigger, he imagines what he wants you to do with those hands, those lips. He imagines you're wrapping your hand around his cock instead, your delicate fingers teasing the precum out of his tip. He imagines forcing those pretty, plump lips of yours open wide as he fucks the back of your throat. He wonders how sexy your gasps will sound when they're choking on his length.

But even though you're a frequent visitor in the filthiest depths of his mind, he knows you've never even been kissed before and so he's tried his damnedest to hold back the floodgates of his ever-growing desire for you. He wants to date you properly- he can think about fucking you properly later.

So now it's Valentine's Day and he's trying hard not to think about what couples do to each other on Valentine's Day, distracting himself by wrapping the present he got for you. Over and over. He must've wrapped it a million times trying to get the idea of you in red lingerie out of his mind, because he ran out of wrapping paper. It was then that he realized that you had planned to come over to his place 15 minutes ago and you still weren't here. His boner subsided, replaced with feelings of dread and anxiety. Were you okay? You were never late.

He texts you several times but you don't respond, causing him to panic. He calls you once but one missed call is enough to get him throwing his shoes on and jogging over to your place.

You hear a knock at the door and then several more insistent knocks following it.

You look around at the mess you've made and you think about not answering the door but then you hear your boyfriend's muffled, desperate voice coming through the door.

"Baby. Baby, you in there? Please let me in. Are you okay? Baby?"

You curse under your breath. He wasn't supposed to be here, you were supposed to meet at his place later. You look at the clock and curse again. Well. You suppose there's no point in hiding now, you don't want to worry him any longer. You sigh and walk up to the door, your fingers shaking slightly as they click the lock out of place.

Before you've even had time to reach for the door handle, the door is flung open. He'd heard you unlocking the door and he couldn't wait to make sure you were okay.

"Baby! I was so worried, I- wh-what....?" Soshiro's eyes widen as he gets a full view of you.

You step back from the door sheepishly, and he slowly steps inside, locking the door behind him but not taking his eyes off of you for a second.

Your hair is pulled back in a sloppy bun and your arms have little splotches of chocolate smudged over them. It looks like you tried to wash it off (and you did get most of it) but the sink must've splashed the water back at you because your white t-shirt is soaked through revealing your red... lace... bra.

Soshiro leans back against the door, trying to steady himself. The sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears is making it very difficult to hear you explain yourself.

"I'm so sorry, I lost track of time. I bought you some chocolates for Valentine's Day, but I thought I could do better than that, so I decided to try to make some for you but I made a mess all over the kitchen and I guess myself, and Soshiro...?" You finish rambling as you realize he's only half listening.

He takes a step forward with one hand reaching out to you but then his other hand yanks it back before it touches you.

"S-Soshiro?"

He looks down and you notice he's having to steady his own breathing. It's coming out heavy and hot and he's starting to sweat. "Ch-change." He rasps. "Get... get changed."

You look down at your wet shirt. Right, he probably didn't want you to get sick or something. You start to pull off your wet shirt, oblivious to the real reason he wanted you to change.

He groans into his hand as he realizes what you're doing. "In-in your bedroom damnit!" He snaps, clenching his teeth together and bringing his gaze back down to the floor.

You've never seen him like this before and part of you knows that you should do what he says and get changed behind closed doors so the two of you can get on with your date and forget this happened. But a part of you wants to know what you're doing to him. And that part of you is the part that wins.

"You know..." You say, stepping towards him.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he hears your voice, trying hard to focus on the floor.

"...I specifically bought this set... for you... call it a Valentine's Day gift."

You make a point of dropping the wet shirt to the floor.

His head snaps up at you.

His eyes take in the curve of your breasts and he almost chokes at seeing how tightly they're pushed up against each other.

He takes a shaky breath. "You... have no idea... what this is doing to me."

You swallow. You've never even been kissed before and you're about to cross a whole other line right now, but goddamnit you wanna cross it so bad because it's him. It's always been him. What were you saving yourself for, if not for him?

You steady your nerves. "So show me then. What is this doing to you?" You start to slip off your shorts to reveal the matching set of red lace panties.

He pounces on you before the shorts even hit the floor.

Your back hits the wall hard and your eyes widen at the sheer hunger this man is exuding. He's ravenous and you're trapped. You bite your lip, waiting to see what he does.

He groans at the sight and his fingers pierce your hips. "Tell me to stop." He growls.

You shake your head no and he cusses under his breath.

Then he starts to run a hand in between your legs, stopping at your upper thigh. He leans down and kisses your neck and it's softer than you expected. You realize he's holding back still, even as he's panting and pushed you up against a wall, he's still holding back for your sake.

Before you can think twice, you grab his hand and slowly move it up the rest of the way, brushing it against the lace that's starting to soak through.

That's permission enough for him- in a second, he's crashed his lips down on yours, moaning at the taste of you.

You feel lightheaded in the best possible way as he claims your lips again and again with his hot, heavy kisses as though he's sinking himself into you. Then you gasp as he slides his tongue into your mouth and you swear he grins against your lips at the sound. You didn't know kisses could feel this good and you're starting to get hooked on the sensation. Then he shows you something even better.

He slips two fingers underneath the thin lace and starts sliding up and down your slit, coating himself in your slick. His other hand reaches up to squeeze at your breast. You shiver at his touch and for some reason you look away from him, just now feeling embarrassed even though you're the one that started this. You're cursing yourself for being so bold when you've clearly never done this before.

"Oh, no, no princess. You wanted this. You're going to get it." His hand leaves your breast and he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. He smirks at the sight of you flushing red.

"So cute when you're embarrassed." He murmurs, bending down to suck and bite at your neck. He continues flicking his fingers up and down the length of your entrance and you finally think you might actually be able to handle all the sensations that are flooding at you for the first time, but then he shoves his fingers inside you, causing you to yelp. He chuckles darkly.

"Let's see what other noises you make." He forces his two fingers in deeper, exploring every sensitive spot that makes you whimper. Your eyes roll back at some point and he watches as you convulse and cum all over his fingers. You're still reeling from the pleasure of your first orgasm, when suddenly he yanks his dripping fingers out and shoves them in your mouth. Your eyes widen as you struggle to take in his fingers.

"How's that taste baby? I wanna try too." He pulls his fingers out and licks a drip of it off your lips before shoving his tongue into your mouth and cleaning the rest of the cum off your tongue.

He pulls back and you stare at his throat in a daze as you watch him swallow your cum and lick his own lips clean. It seems the taste of you has only made him hungrier. Your eyes trail down now to the massive bulge in his pants.

He smirks and pulls it out for you. Then he guides your hand to it and wraps it around the shaft.

You gulp. You've never felt anyone's dick before. It twitches in your hand as if sensitive to your touch. You spit on your hand and drag the saliva up and down his swelling cock. You start to stroke it harder and at first you're not sure if you're doing it right but then he groans and precum starts to trickle over your fingers.

He greedily consumes your lips again as starts to rock his hips back and forth, fucking into your hand faster. Then, right when you think he's about to cum all over you, he pulls back, panting hard.

You must've looked shocked because he starts to laugh.

"I'm a gentleman, I only cum in my baby." And with that, he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him, and yanks you down hard onto his dick. He grips your hips and pounds into you.

You moan as he slams against your tightening walls. You're still sensitive from your first orgasm and he is not being gentle anymore. You think you might collapse against his chest if he keeps at it any longer but then you feel him thrust one more time and groan deeply into your shoulder as his seed fills your aching insides.

Though shaky, he manages to gently deposit you on the couch and then he slumps beside you, trying to catch his breath. Then, when his breathing slows, he finally asks, "Was it good enough for your first time?"

Your heart melts at the question and you kiss his shoulder before resting your head against it. It's in this moment that you're glad you saved up all your firsts to give to him, it was well worth the wait.

"It was perfect baby."