#this is for your own good as an older mom/sister figure of this community it’s my bare minimum responsibility 🧍🏽‍♀️😭

[femmefatalevibe]

Hello FemmeFataleVibe! I have a question for you: how does a woman reconcile her sexuality and being a high value woman (HVW)? Are there certain desires or kinks a HVW should not have? What is the appropriate protocol in regard to disclosing past relationships or lack thereof to a suitor/dating prospect?

Hi love! Fun question. I believe that part of being a HVW is fully accepting, exploring, and owning your sexuality without any shame but understanding the importance of discretion in the public eye.

While any sexual preferences and (protected) consensual encounters, regardless of age, frequency, number of partners (lower or higher), etc., you prefer or decide to act on are morally neutral, it is best to keep these personal details to yourself along with your closest friends, a therapist, trusted mentors (could be a mom, aunt, or big sister figure), and partners on a need-to-know basis because this information can be used against you if in the wrong hands. Also, being crass – like being close-minded about sexuality and sexual preferences – reads as a sign of immaturity and/or insecurity.

Everyone has the right to the privacy of their own mind. So, I believe it is essential to accept your desires as they are. You cannot control what arouses you past a certain degree. The important thing is to know what desires are ethical to act on or in your best interest to share with others. I believe that any kinks outside of the ones where consent is not possible (involving children, animals, corpses, etc. – these are sick fantasies that require mental health treatment and, as far as I know, are not acceptable within kink communities), it is essential as a HVW to discern whether you find a particular kink(s) to be sexually gratifying or if they're rewarding purely because they satisfy a partner's desires (or perceived desires) and offer you a sense of external validation. While I don't identify as a radical feminist, I do agree with their philosophy on how the mainstream porn industry has negatively impacted how we approach sex and sexuality. The violence portrayed and its sole focus on male pleasure that it conditions (especially young) people to believe is the "right" or socially-acceptable way to engage with sex and their sexuality is concerning. Normalizing nonconsensual choking, face slapping, and anal sex are vile things to promote in society. With that being said, I don't think kink-shaming is necessary if two consenting adults (or older teens) discuss what they (genuinely) like and don't like and act according with respect to each others' boundaries.

I believe that discussing past relationships (or lack thereof) with a new partner should not be done upfront and on a need-to-know basis. Your first in-person meeting with a partner (whether it's a casual activity, coffee date, dinner, sexual encounter, etc.) should be focused on establishing the connection between you two and seeing if there's potential/compatibility there. If a new suitor asks about your relationship history very early on (let's say 1-3 meetings or a month into a new relationship), I think it's best to provide a truthful, high-level answer to the question such as: "My most recent relationship was a serious 2-year relationship ended 1 year ago, since that relationship ended, I've been learning about myself to determine what I'm looking for in an ideal partner/compatible lover." Even if you've never had an official relationship or long-term partner, know that if you have a good track record of sustained friendships (and especially if you have previous sexual experiences), you have all of the ingredients necessary for a romantic partnership. Don't stress about formalities. You have relationship experience, just a different type of relationship experience. Every partner and relationship is different, so we're all learning as we go through life anyways.

Anyone who feels the need to ask detailed questions about your past relationships upfront is a huge red flag. The same goes for anyone who talks about their exes right away and elaborates or dwells on the details of their relationship (this person is definitely not over their ex, lol). Your sexual history is no one's business outside of asking for negative test results and/or discussing exclusivity. Preferences, though, should be discussed once intimacy is in the immediate future.

Hope this helps xx

[bewitchingbaker]

5. What sort of religion was practiced in their home? Did religion play a role in their upbringing?

Chris grew up in a interfaith home. His father was baptist and his mom was raised on Wicca practices. They make it work because neither wants to supress the other and doesn't mind showing both their religions to their kids. His father honestly didn't follow alot of the church practices due to some issues with the church but he goes for the community aspect.

Later, Chris gravitated more so toward his mother's religion to feel closer to her side of the fam. But he feels more comfortable in it as opposed tot he church.

"Tell me young God," Robert began, eyes staring down the 7 year old before him. "What is today's mathematics?"

A much much much younger Chris stared at his uncle confused, hands holding a Storm action figure. Mathematics? Like the stuff at school? Chris had no concept of math outside of his worksheets and how mom and dad spent money for things they needed. His head tils as he ponders over his uncle's question.

His uncle's eyes stared daggers at him, body leaning towards him to anticipate his answer. Robert always disapproved of the way Chris was being brought up, often calling him soft and quiet. In his own words 'A young Black man needs to toughen up. Quit playing with those dolls'. In his mind, some of the Five Percenter's lessons could toughen him up.

An eternal moment passed.

"...2 + 2," Chris finally answered, that silly giggle escaping his lips. Robert rolled his eyes, already irritated at his lack of understanding. Not helped by his own son's laugh at the young Luna's answer. The older man leans forward, finger in his chest.

"No God," Robert stated. "What's the first letter of your name? Cee. Cee is to understand. We couldn’t truly see the trick that was planted in our path because we had a mattress thrown over our eyes. But we were bor-"

Before he could finish his lesson to the young man, his brother and Chris's father, Kennth, stepped in.

"Oh Robert don't start with that mathematics shit," he frowned as he picked up Chris, "You know the boy is hardly thinking about any of that!"

Robert frowned earning a deepened scowl form his brother.

"You only got into that shit cause them broke down bums who preach in front of the mall every day! I give it a few more months until you're out of it." Kenneth said, "Your tv is fixed and you know I'm always around."

Even when angry, Kenneth was always going to help out his family. It was honestly quite easy to see where the baker got it from. With that, they exchanged a nod as Chris left with his dad. Per usual, he helped his son into the car (despite Chris's protests of not needing help) and made their way home.

"What is our legion?" the young Luna asked, those big eyes staring up at his dad. A hearty laugh escaped from his dad, massive hand reaching out to tussle the lad's small fro.

"We have two legion in our home Chris, " Kenneth explained. "Your mom has her own way of things and so do I. Some days we go to church because I grew up in it and I like the community it gives you and your sister. But me and your mom want ya to join in on her practices too."

Chris tilts his head as if he were a confused cat.

"Because we want you two to know you have a choice on what to follow when you grow up. Church, Wicca, something else. Just as long as you're good and happy, we'll be happy with ya."

While the young Luna was unsure of everything, he was happy to know he always has a choice on who he decides to be. He knew his cousin didn't personally like following the beliefs of the Five Percent nation but felt like he had to because of his dad.

[rysela]

Juniper Backstory, Part two; Let's Start At The Beginning

“Come on, Juni!” Jasper laughed, taking his little sister’s hand and leading her towards the woods behind their muddy shack, “I found something; it’s a secret, just for your birthday, okay?” he continued.

“Too fast!” she protested, her toddler legs too short to keep up with him.

Jasper chuckled again, and squatted down in front of her, “Here, I’ll give you a piggyback there.”

She locked her arms around his neck, and Jasper hoisted her up easily. When his parents first told him they were having another child, he hadn’t been looking forward to being an older sibling – and yes, sometimes his baby sister was horribly annoying – but she was also his best friend. He watched her during the days when their father was in the plant, and their mother did the daily chores and worked to earn a few copper here and there for the other members of their processing community.

It wasn’t a terribly long hike through the woods, though the thick underbrush likely meant any larger creatures would struggle to find the path that Jasper had memorized over the last few weeks. Over a small creek, through some thorny bushes, and they had arrived. A tree that looked like it had been struck by lightning – half broken and burnt out – stood like a gnarled omen in the center of a mushroom circle. At its base, carved into the roots, was a small shrine littered with old offerings. Much more exciting, the clearing was lined with raspberry and blackberry bushes, ripe and hanging heavy on their branches.

Jasper sat her down and handed her one of the baskets he’d been carrying, “Look, see, fresh berries,” he grinned.

Her eyes were wide as she took it all in, “Berries?”

“You haven’t had them fresh before, have you? Mom only gets a can of jam at the end of harvest as a treat. Here,” He walked over to one of the bushes and picked a few black berries, and put one in her small hand, “They’re good.” Jasper showed her by popping one into his own mouth. “Yum!”

She eyed the blackberry suspiciously for a moment, then stuck out her tongue to lick it, before deciding it was safe to consume and mimicking him, “Yum!”

“You like them?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, we’re going to pick a bunch and take them home so mom can make you a pie for your birthday. So just fill up your basket but be careful of the thorns.”

Looking back on it, he probably should have been watching her a little closer, but he was excited to fill up his own basket. She was too little to maneuver fat fingers away from sharp thorns, and after only about fifteen minutes of picking, he was startled out of his thoughts by a sharp cry, followed shortly by Juniper’s wails.

He dropped his basket and ran over to her, “What’s wrong, Juni?” he asked quickly, dropping down to his knees in front of her. She was holding her hand up to him, and there was a drop of blood running down her finger. “Oh, you pricked yourself. You’re okay,” Jasper said gently, tearing off a bit of cloth from his shirt and wrapping it around her finger, then pulling her into a hug and rocking her, “It’s alright June-bug, it’s just a little owie.”

She was inconsolable, and Jasper looked around the clearing for something – anything – he could use to soothe her. In the shrine at the base of the dead tree was what looked like an old corn-husk doll. Jasper didn’t figure anyone would mind if he borrowed it, and so he went and picked it up, bringing it back to Juniper. “Look, Juni,” he said, making the little doll dance in front of her, bouncing it up and down until he’d earned a little giggle for his efforts, and his sister took the doll with both hands and hugged it.

“There we go, all bet–“ he’d started to answer when there was a sudden crash as lightning struck the dead tree beside them. When the light faded and he could see again, Jasper noticed there was a man sitting atop of the tall, burned trunk.

For a moment, the kitsune thought he was looking at a tall human, but it was looking at Jasper with pupilless eyes that glowed a bright, unsettling yellow against the evening sun from beneath its wide-brimmed hat, and Jasper knew it nothing so simple as that. He was so preoccupied by the stranger’s imposing stature – and its hair-raising aura – that Jasper almost didn’t notice the two large black wolves slink out from behind the tree on either side of it, hackles raised as they circled the clearing and the two young foxes.

Juniper had started crying again, and it looked down at her with open disdain. “What is that racket?” it asked, voice slow and deep.

“I – I’m sorry, she’s just scared,” Jasper stammered, quickly picking her up in his arms and shielding her protectively.

“A pair of little thieves,” the thing that was not a man ignored him.

“…what?”

“You stole from me,” it pointed down at the little shrine, littered with trinkets offered to it in deference. “You took something that belongs to me, boy.”

“I was just – I was just borrowing it,” Jasper protested, “She’s just a baby, and she was crying – it’s just a toy and I didn’t think anyone would mind! We’ll put it back, honest!”

“You think your sister needs a toy?” it asked, its head cocking, almost canine, but unnaturally quick.

“I – We’ll put it back,” Jasper repeated, eyeing the wolves that were circling them nervously and holding Juniper a little closer.

“A child should have a trinket. I will give her one, since you have failed to, little thief,” it remarked, smiling a wide, fanged smile that sent chills running down Jasper’s spine.

Juniper hit the ground with a yelp. Jasper had never dropped her before, but as she looked up where her brother had just been holding her, she saw a sickly green light envelop him, lifting him off the ground while the predator watched. He was screaming, the sound soon joined by Juniper’s terrified wails as she watched Jasper’s body contort and shrink with a chorus of grotesque and violent cracks, his features twisted in fear and agony. To Juniper, mere moments felt like an eternity; when it was over, Jasper fell to the ground before her. Nothing remained but a crocheted doll, silent, and still as a corpse.

“Be silent,” the creature that had just taken her brother from her commanded, but Juniper didn’t – couldn’t – stop the petrified sobs that wracked her unwilling form, both hands clamped over her mouth as she sat staring at Jasper where he had dropped her when the magic took hold of him.

“Enough,” it seethed, its voice as cold as ice. “You have outstayed your welcome.”

All at once, the wolves lunged at her, teeth snapping inches from her face – close enough that Juniper could feel their breath hot against her skin. She screamed, scrambling to her feet, and took off running as hard as she could, back toward their home.

She ran, clumsy on fat little legs, as the wolves chased her, always just a hair’s breadth behind her. Their teeth snapped at her heels, tore the fabric of her clothes, snagged her scarf, pulled her braids, but never quite caught her. Thorns and branches whipped her skin as she scrambled through the underbrush, but nothing could stop Juniper from running. When she broke out of the forest and their house came into view, the wolves broke away, stopping at the edge of the forest, snarling, their jaws dripping saliva onto the ground at their feet. They stayed there, watching, even as Juniper ran into the house, crying and babbling hysterically as she tried to explain to her mother what happened, until they knew that they had driven the girl from their master’s woods for good.

[allforthe-gay]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks....

oh my gods thank you so much for asking i could go on and on about these characters tbh ✨

Laurent of Vere (Captive Prince trilogy): okay i admit he's an asshole but like in the best way. he's so outspoken and not afraid to say what he thinks to the point of cruelty and good at swordfighting and dude i wanna be like that. also he is very fucking smart. his mind is like a maze that not many people would be able to figure out. or something. his words are like weapons. and he's stoic but at some specific times you see him being expressive (sometimes against his will) like when he blushes at something Damen says or actually smiles or laughs and it just warms my fucking heart i love him so much tbh

Nico di Angelo (PJO): he helped me get over my homophobia when i was a kid. this dude has literally gone through so much with his sister dying and dealing with the feelings he had for Percy and the hate he felt he was supposed to have for him and the internalized homophobia and wondering what other people would think about him being gay and also he's powerful as fuck he has a sword made from Stygian Iron he absolutely SLAYED in the last battle against Kronos he's gay he can teleport and he has trauma and survivor's guilt and he wears his fucking avian jacket everywhere and never brushes his hair and survived fucking TARTARUS on his own dude no he's fucking amazing and deserves all the love in the world

Adam Parrish (the Raven Cycle): he is the smartest person alive probably. he survived his stupid abusive fucking father and works really hard in school and in life because he believes you have to do that to get somewhere in life and he wants to fucking get somewhere. he cares so much about his friends and is not disaster bisexual representation no that boy is organized as fuck. we should all feel lucky that he exists we as a community as a fucking planet do not deserve him <3 also he sacrificed himself to a sentient forest to save everyone i think so that was pretty badass ngl

Ronan Lynch: this dude can literally bring shit out of his dreams. he swears a lot and cares so deeply about his friends it's so fucking beautiful. he dreamed the sentient forest his bf Adam sacrificed himself to. he looks dangerous as fuck and can be when he wants to but also he's just a huge softie. he's gay and he used to fist fight his older brother and he can dream things that don't make logical sense into existence. he is just,,,,, this amazing fucking character and right now it's hard to put it all into words but bottomline: i'm happy he exists

Andrew Minyard (All for the Game): he has been through so. much. this man keeps knives in the fucking leather band thingies on his arms which he wears to cover the scars he has from all the self harm that he inflicted because he was fucking r*ped when he was seven (for the first time, anyway) by his older foster brother (fuck Drake Spear, the bastard). he cares so much about some people but doesn't show it in very obvious ways, mostly. i mean he killed his mom because she was abusing his twin brother and if that isn't love then love doesn't exist. i'm so happy he survived all that shit. he survived and has found a family in the Foxes and a boyfriend in Neil Josten who he loves very much and hdjdjfjskxkdkd

Neil Josten: was on the run for like eight years with his mom from his crazy ass father who wanted to murder them. even after his mother died after bleeding out from a wound his father inflicted and he burned her body along with their car and buried her bones he lasted a full day without puking his guts out, and then he kept going. so many would've just given up at that point, understandably i think. but he didn't. and then he became a Fox and was playing Exy and failed his attempts to not get attached to his teammates he grew to care about them all so much especially Andrew who he is in love with and whose boundaries he respects like he has literally actively put himself in harm's way so many times just so nothing will happen to his family and Andrew. he cares so much i love him.

Blitzø (Helluva Boss): literally just a guy. well i mean an imp one of the denizens of Hell who decided to open up his own assassin company thingy where you'd pay him and he'd go to the human world with the help of the grimoire his sorta fuckbuddy ish crush Stolas lends him and with his employees to kill the person you want them to kill. so yeah that's pretty badass. yknow, in a weird, twisted way. he's also foul-mouthed as fuck which is always fun to see :) but what made me kinda connect to his character is the dude's estimate for his own self worth is basically non-existent he pushes away anyone who cares about him and puts up the facade of an annoying asshole (which he kinda is naturally) to not deal with his feelings sometimes. i relate

Wylan Van Eck (Six of Crows): his dad is a fucking asshole who wanted him killed because he can't read. who the fuck does that literally wtf. but he escaped and joined the Crows [Kaz, Inej, Jesper (who is his boyfriend), Nina, and Matthias (dead)] who are all just kids who are fighting to survive in this horrible ass world. also they want money to buy stuff which, same. but Wylan has so many strengths like he can create bombs he's a flautist he's good at the sciency stuff and music and is smart as fuck and he's such a pure person like. i love him so much <3

Will Byers (Stranger Things): this guy cares so much about his friends and family and will do anything to help make sure they're okay. he's in love with his best friend and he thinks he's a mistake which he is NOT. he is a fucking GIFT to mankind we should all feel lucky he exists because we do not fucking deserve him. it broke my heart to see him being pushed aside and forgotten but in season five he better get all he deserves and more. literally i love him so much and i love when he's a little rude and rolls his eyes and that one time he asked Jonathan “is that why you don't have any friends ?” with the most innocent fucking face ever like he is the best. i love him. #will byers supremacy

Angel Dust (Hazbin hotel): okay i watched this at like 3am today and can i just say: AMAZING. like his character is just so publicly flamboyant and i love that for him. i mean i guess it's literal Hell and no one gives a shit but he's there and he's a sex worker and dude does not give a fuck about what other people think. he cares about specific people and his best friend is Cherri Bomb and they did the music video thing together where we find out he was (still is, i guess) sexually abused by this bitch Valentino who we should all hate. fuck him seriously why are people so horrible. he cries and resorts to the sex and drugs as a way to numb the pain. fuck. he even died from a drug overdose. i hope when we get the hazbin hotel series he's like okay and stuff because i love him so much for and it hurts that that shit happened to him.

so yeah this is my list not necessarily in this order😅 thanks again for asking i appreciate it <3

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

**

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

**

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

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[fakescenarios-tohelpyousleep]

crazy golf| evan ‘buck’ buckley

summary| when you blackout on a mini golf course the 118 gets called to the scene

“Your dad?! You have a dad?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the shock that spills from the speakers of your phone. While you had the day off from the firehouse, your boyfriend Buck, wasn’t so lucky. In fact today was when he worked one of the dreaded 24 hour shifts. “Everyone has a dad, Buck.” You laugh at him sarcastically and you can hear your boyfriend scoff over the other end of the call. “I know that, it’s just that... I don’t know, you never really talked about your dad before.” Now you scoff. “Yeah there isn’t much to tell, he left when I was still really young and our communication was little to none throughout the years.” “So explain to me why you’re meeting with him exactly.” You could hear the voice of Chimney make it’s way into the conversation and you could bet that he and Hen had now gathered around Buck to hear the conversation.. if you’re lucky Bobby and Eddie probably joined as well. 

“I don’t know, he and his new family is in town for vacation so I figured why not meet up with them.” As you make your way through your and buck’s shared house to the living room, where you sit yourself on the couch. “If you guys don’t talk, how does he even know you live in LA?” Hen now spoke, proving you correct. “My mom’s Facebook most likely-” Eddie scoffs at the comment. “Oh cause you and your mom talk so much more Ms. I didn’t tell my mom I moved across country.” “You didn’t tell your own mother you moved across the country?” Now Bobby’s voice comes over the speaker... the gangs all here. “Okay shut up both of you!” “Is it really a good idea, Y/N? I mean, you haven’t seen him in years. Are you sure you want to go alone?” Buck’s voice is finally heard again. You could picture the exact face he was making in that moment. The concerned Buck face. “It’s not like he’s a psychopath, Buckley.” “Y/N’s a big girl, she can handle it.” Bobby joked in the background of the call. “Is it just you and him or are there more people that will be there?” “Most likely him and I, his wife, and her 2 kids.” At that the loud ring of the fire bell ignites. “Y/N, we have to go. I’ll talk to you later, be careful, I love you.” “I love you too and shut up about me being careful, take your own advice.” 

_

“Pants, are you crazy girl? It’s 90 degrees out!” The hounded of your father begins the second you approach the group of them at the entree of the mini golf course. “90 degrees is nothing if she goes into burning buildings with practically a winter jacket on.” The countering voice of the eldest step brother replied to his comment before I could. The eldest, named James, was my favorite of the three kids. Not that I saw much of them, but from what I did, he was always the nicest. Kayla, younger than James but older than myself, was always more bitchy, however we knew each other back when she was a teenager. “You’d be surprised for being a firefighter, putting out fires is only like 2 percent of what I do on a day to day.” 

“Hey-” “Stop worrying she’ll be okay.” Buck practically jumped from his skin when Eddie snatched his phone from his hands. Buck frantically looks around to the other as they unpack the truck from the recent call. Chimney and Hen laugh at him for the way he’s acting. “I’m just checking to be safe!” Buck defends snatching his phone back, checking the screen for any miss calls before sighing and sliding his phone back into his pocket. “You’re worrying about an ex-detective turned firefighter meeting up with her dad... how does Y/N deal with you.” Chimney questioned earning another eye roll from Buck. “You just never know. I know what it’s like to not have a good relationship with your parents. I’d be dying right now if I were in her position.” Buck explains and Hen shows a bit of empathy for the boy. “Y/N isn’t you Buck, she’s not any of us, she’s her. If you hadn’t noticed she doesn’t really hold grudges, she gonna go see him, pretend like nothing happened and then when he disappears again she’ll forget that he even came back into her life.”

“Vending Machine, you want anything?” James questioned as you reach the midway point of the course. “My god, yes please.” You huff, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You join James and Kayla near the machine, taking a seat besides Kayla on her bench. “Water please.” “There is only soda.” James calls back and both girls groan, rolling there eyes. “It’s too hot of soda.” Kayla groaned, you nod in agreement. “Sprite, I guess.” “Coke for me.” You lean your head back to hang in exhaustion. “So.. how has LA been? Any boyfriend?” Kayla starts up conversation, different from how she use to be. “Better than back home and yeah, yeah a boyfriend.” “Boyfriend? What’s his name?” James over hears, turning and handing us our respected can of soda. You open it and down half of it, placing the cold can on your neck before replying, “Buck, well Evan Buckley but we call him Buck. We work together.” They nod, as dad and his wife join us ready to continue the game. You go to stand and suddenly stumble back at the blackness that suddenly clouds your vision. “Whoa, Y/N you okay?” Your dad reaches out to stop you from falling. “Yeah, yeah, just stood up to fast. I’m fine.” You remember, you haven’t eaten since you’ve left work the night prior and water.. well water isn’t exactly your drink of choice. “Are you sure?” James double checks. “Yes I’m fine.”You shrug your dad’s arm from your shoulder and start the small uphill hike to the next hole, however before you can get your bearings you’re suddenly on the ground slumped again the rocks of the golf course, the world around you coming in and out. 

The blaring of the alarm puts everyone in the 118 into motion as the team climbs into the firetruck and ambulance and as the truck pulls into drive, Buck’s phone goes off in his pocket. His sister Maddie. “Maddie what is it? We’re on a call-” “Yeah yeah I know, it’s about the call... it’s Y/N.” 

“LAFD please clear the way.” Bobby, followed by the team arrives onto the scene where James is waiting at the beginning of the course to lead them to the still incoherent Y/N. “What exactly happened?” Bobby questioned, Buck and Eddie standing to each side of him as Chimney and Hen make there way onto the course to evaluate her. “We stopped to get a drink from the vending machine and then when we went to continue she went to walk up the hill and just boom, dropped.” “Her vitals are all good, she’s coming in and out, she’s extremely dehydrated!” Hen calls from their position, Hen and Chimney kneels on the ground besides you. “Y/N!” Buck yells going to take off to join them, however, stopped by both Eddie and Bobby. “Buck stop! Go get water from the stand, Eddie from the ambulance get a gerny, I’ll go get Y/N, Eddie set up under the sprinklers here.” “Bobby, let me go get her-” “Buck follow the order.” With a red face, Buck stomps away from his captain in the direction of the convent stand to get water. Bobby treks his way through the course joining half of his team as well as her father and step mother. Hen has already inserted an IV with water into Y/N arm and slowly was she regaining her consensuses. “Y/N, it’s Bobby we’re going to move you, okay?” “Bobby?” You mumbled as he counted to three, lifting you effortlessly, Hen holding the IV bag as Chimney follows with the medical bag in hand. Bobby knows you’re with them as he can feel you holding onto his neck as he carries you but as your head drops forward, he begins talking. “Y/N talk to me.” “I’m okay.” Your voice trails off, head dropping completely backwards as your arms go slightly limb as they arrive to the beginning of the course again, where Eddie had a gerny, Buck had water and sprinklers were raining water lightly down. “Y/N come on, wake up!” Bobby’s voice gets louder as he sits you down completely out cold. “Y/N!” Buck’s voice calls louder as he shoved the bottle of water into Eddie’s hands. “Y/N!” Buck shakes you, both hands on either side of your face and with the shakening and the sprinkling of water as well as the IV coursing water into your body, you’re eyes flutter open. “Buck, I’m fine.” Buck smiles, sighing in relief, his head dropping forward grateful for you’re eyes opening. “Y/N when was the last time you ate?” Hen’s judgmental voice speaks up as her arms cross. “Um-” You shut your eyes tightly, the exhaustion not leaving your body. “Cap, what did you make for dinner late night?” Scoffs from your team fill the air. “You are an idiot.” Buck mumbles besides you and you lightly push him off. “Eddie, go get get a milkshake or something please.” Bobby orders and Eddie nods rushing off to get it. “Chocolate! She doesn’t like Vanilla!” Buck calls after his teammate, his eyes falling to her family, standing just off to the side watching in silence as she mingles with the team that just saved her. “So... I’m assuming that’s Buck?”

[cinnamonest]

If you don't mind me asking, why does femdom make you uncomfortable? And why do you have a kink for misogyny in the first place? Just curious, really, I have nothing to judge- just as a transmasc person kinks rooted in gender are sort of difficult for me to understand.

Ok so I hope you don't mind a long answer lol, I like kink psychology really and it's difficult to put into a short paragraph.

So usually sexual preferences and kinks are based on either being taboo/wrong, or based on comfort -- what makes us feel comforted, safe, and validated. For me (and most people who have it in my experience) all of these are comfort/validation related kinks. I used to think I was the only one but I actually discovered there's a whole community for the sexism kink.

Although I think the modern empowerment of women is great, obviously, for some of us it's actually very daunting and jarring to be held up to this expectation of a "strong independent woman", that is thrown in your face from every direction, especially if it's foreign to you. Which it was for me, having been raised in a very very very conservative background and then thrust into the real world. Most people I've met with this kink have that upbringing in common. There definitely is a sentiment in some aspects of culture/mainstream that you're doing women a disservice or not being a good feminist if you do not meet the standard image of a strong, fiery and independent woman. Idk if it's different for girls who grew up in more egalitarian homes, but that was and still is very intimidating for me.

The whole thing with the more "loving" sexism kink (which is my preference, as I'm not fond of the free use cruel type of sexism) is you have the reassurance of love, with the comfort of a provider/protector and the reassurance that you don't have to be a strong, independent person. You can be dependent, dumb, needy, and weak, and that's ok, because nothing more is expected of you. And it's even a good thing that you are loved and appreciated for - it's good to be those things. It's comforting and validating, because it is an expectation I can meet. It's reassuring to accept being "inferior." It's also familiar because it's what I'm used to.

And of course, there's the whole concept of being property and some degradation/humiliation factor with the inferiority as well, which is a very common kink, and this is just one possible manifestation of it. So it combines those concepts of comfort with degradation -- it's sweet, loving degradation, which is a rare, hard to achieve thing that I like a lot. Also, submission and loss of control are very common kinks, and this once again is just one possible form.

And for the men, from what I have gathered from discussions with them, it makes them feel powerful and in control, which are typically things that make dominant men feel secure/comforted or reassured. So you also get the good feeling of knowing you are making the other party happy/feel good.

Consequently femdom does the opposite. Makes me feel nervous and very uncomfortable. Seeing men be submissive to women gives me a skin-crawling sort of feeling. It just feels "wrong" and jarring. Weirdly enough though I like femdom in Yuri/GL, I can still project myself onto the bottom. It only bothers me when it's het femdom. Not that I have a problem with it or think it's bad, I'm glad people have a spectrum of sexual tastes and respect them all, it just bothers me personally.

As for the incest... In general, most people like incest for the closeness/love factor, or the tabooness. Incest is, of course, extremely controversial in real life, so it has the "sin" appeal that a lot of people get excited by.

As for specifically momcon, one, there's a limited amount of incest dynamics there, and virtually all of them involve being young and/or usually have themes of virginity, like daughter or sister. Female virginity is another thing that unsettles me a bit, so I avoid it (but also don't mind it so much that I need warnings or anything). I like projecting onto milfs/women way older than I actually am -- I honestly couldn't tell you why that is. I've thought about it a lot but I can't figure it out. But I love older woman x younger man content, which the mom thing allows for. Two, because it just feels more shocking and fucked up/taboo than the others. Three, the role reversal is a big aspect. I love anything where the woman was originally in a position of power and has it stripped away from the one beneath her - so like a student noncon-ing a teacher, little brother on older sister, son on mom, employee on boss, etc. Four, despite that, there's still some semblance of control -- it's more "safe" in some ways.

All in all though that doesn't accurately cover the full reasons, bc to be honest I'm not 100% confident why I like the mom stuff so much more than other forms of incest. I think it has something to do with the emotional closeness, feeling of betrayal, unexpectedness, the victim blaming potential (since you raised them), etc. There's also the concept of being trapped by ones own love -- a mother's love tends to be unconditional. So unlike most cases of noncon, mothers often struggle to hate or want to take action against the son, which puts them in a difficult position.

Or maybe I just exist to make Freud smile in his grave.

[therealvinelle]

Hi! Can I ask you about your thoughts about Alec and Jane relationship (as siblings, I have to specify because some people take this in a bad way)

Hah, no need to specify.

I think they’re each other’s favorite person, and not just because of their familial relation.

Jane and Alec are in a very unique, and very isolated situation.

They’re eternally children, and children have social needs different from adults. They have different interests, different hobbies, different concepts of fun. Children think in a different way. Alec, Felix, and Demetri do guy talk together, Felix and Demetri are talking about who’s the hottest chick in the guard while Alec is talking about Super Mario.

Not to mention the adult side of things. Jane and Alec may be good kids, great kids even, but as an adult, I would seek out fellow adults for close relationships. (Same goes for the teens in Volterra - a sixteen-year-old has more in common with me (early 20’s) than he does a twelve-year-old.)

Being friends with a twelve-year-old is of course possible, but it’s going to be an older sibling type of friendship. This is not the same as a peer.

And sure, the twins have Aro, who is a father figure to them. I suspect other Volturi have familial relationships with them as well, because there’s always one person in the room who instantly becomes Mom when there’s a child in the vicinity. However many people Jane and Alec are close to, I’m sure they’re important to them - however, they’re still Adults. There is an invisible wall between them and Jane and Alec.

Then there’s the fact that the people Alec and Jane are in contact with, are the Volturi, and only the Volturi. To everyone else, they’re the terrifying witch twins, synonymous with death.

(On that note: I strongly suspect Jane and Alec live in an extreme us vs. them kind of world, where it’s not just humans who are Them, but non-Volturi vampires as well. Well, or Volturi and criminals, but I suspect most vampires break the law every now and then, but the Volturi can’t be everywhere at once. Point being, if Aro wants these twelve-year-olds to be killing machines, he’ll have to teach them that the life of a criminal is forfeit. We see Jane’s treatment of Bree. The result of this is that the people in the Volturi become the only people in the world.)

And even with these facts in mind, how would Jane and Alec even come into contact with children their own age?

Their age is just young enough to toe the line, and not everyone in the Twilight universe actually knows what an immortal child is. The odds of someone creating a vampire whose very existence is provocative is slim to none.

So, other vampires their age are unlikely to exist and even if they did, Jane and Alec will regard them as dirt and probably have the coven executed for such a provocative age. This leaves Aro, who isn’t going to do it either.  He has no reason to want a playmate for Jane and Alec. To create a new immortal child just so Jane would have someone to skip ropes with would be heinous, cruel beyond measure. Aro has his flaws, but this would be too low. More, though, he wouldn’t get away with it. He gets shit already from the vampire community for Jane and Alec, and those two were dying humans with incredible gifts. If he were to create a new twelve-year-old vampire, solely to amuse his witch twins, people would take it as confirmation that he’s a corrupt bastard with no respect for his own law. It would be a disaster.

Jane and Alec are looking at an eternity of being the only kids around. And, again, I’m not saying this means they sit in a corner ignored by everybody, but it does mean that they don’t have anybody else to play with or to talk Pokémon.

Then you add in the deathblow to their social lives, and that’s their gifts.

These kids represent death. Not just death, but the most terrifying death imaginable - Jane will torture you senseless, and Alec will leave you literally senseless. And in the vampire world, it is popularly believed that your gift is an extension of yourself. What does the average vampire think about Jane, then, when her power is to cause pain to others?

Of course, her gift is what it is because of circumstances outside of her control - we know from the Guide that in life, her and Alec’s gifts could do good things as well as bad. No specifics are given, but that’s still significant. If Jane hadn’t been suffered her awful fate, she would likely have had an ability that could be used for good. But your average vampire doesn’t know that.

So, Jane and Alec don’t really have anybody else. It’s them against the world.

Then you add in the fact that they’re very much twins, and from what we see get along really well. There are plenty of siblings in this world who don’t, or who bicker relentlessly, but these two don’t. In New Moon they’ve been apart for as long as it took Jane to fetch Bella & co and return again, twenty minutes tops, and Alec still greets her with hugs and kisses. That’s the greeting of a brother who thinks his sister is awesome. They walk hand in hand when they enter the battlefield in Breaking Dawn. These two are close.

I would go so far as to call them platonic mates. There’s really no better word for it, because Jane and Alec are a unit. They love each other more than anything, it’s always been them, and it always will be. Kill one twin, and I would be shocked if the other didn’t go full Marcus. And their relationship is more solid than most of the actual mates we see in Twilight, too. Just, they’re solid.

These two children are lonely, I get the feeling Jane more than Alec. But a lot of people are, and they have something a lot of lonely people can only dream of, and that’s a twin who fully and completely gets it.

[pokemonswshbutionlyplayedsword]

I recently read one of your posts about what the gym leaders dislike the most about each other, so I want to request a post about what they like the most about each other :)

Hell yeah, spread positivity.

Milo:

-Nessa: Her confidence. Milo admires the way she seems to never let anyone get her down.

-Kabu: His advice. Kabu always seems to know what to say, and Milo really appreciates that.

-Bea: Her care for her pokemon. For as strong as she gets, and as hard as she trains her team, she always makes sure to keep her pokemon healthy and happy.

-Allister: His individuality. Milo knows Allister the least, but the fact that he stands out unapologetically is something Milo can appreciate.

-Opal: Her tea. Milo loves visiting Opal because she gives great tea and snacks. Visits are very pleasant.

-Gordie: His jokes. Milo and Gordie share very similar humor.

-Melony: Her cooking. Milo loves a good home cooked meal and Melony’s dishes are welcome in the middle of the Circhester cold.

-Piers: His ambition. Piers was scary to Milo at first, but once they got to know each other, Milo began to realize that Piers has a lot of goals, most of which are to benefit others.

-Raihan: The way he treats his fans. Raihan seems like the type to brag and boast, but Raihan is a really cool dude. Milo can’t stand people who flaunt things too much, so the fact that Raihan could and doesn’t is appreciated.

-Leon: The way he cares about other people. Leon is always looking out for other people, and he always strives to help others around him.

Nessa:

-Milo: The way he supports his friends. Milo does a lot for his friends and supports them no matter what.

-Kabu: His passion. Kabu very clearly cares about his career, and not much holds him back. Nessa is inspired by that.

-Bea: Her strength. Nessa appreciates that Bea is super strong and doesn’t let the fact that she’s a girl hold her back. Nessa’s all about girl power.

-Allister: His humor. Not many people hear Allister tell jokes, but Nessa gets to hear pretty frequently, and he’s funny.

-Opal: Her stories. Every times Nessa sees Opal, she has another exciting story to tell about when she was younger.

-Gordie: How he stands up for himself. Nessa is on Gordie’s side when it comes to the fight with Melony. The fact that Gordie keeps going with rock types no matter is really cool.

-Melony: The way she’s a mom to everyone. Melony takes care of people no matter what, and Nessa appreciates that. Melony proves that you can be kind and strong.

-Piers: The way he does music. Nessa knows how hard it is to be a model and a gym leader at the same time. She understands how much work Piers puts in to do music and pokemon training, even when no one sees it.

-Raihan: His personality. Raihan is a lot of fun to hang out with. He and Nessa have similar personalities, so they get along well.

-Leon: The way he looks out for the rest of the league. Leon is the reason Rose never got the chance to pass a rule to stop the Gym Leaders from doing outside work. Leon protected Nessa’s modeling career, despite all the trouble it put him through.

Kabu:

-Milo: His commitment. Milo always follows through on promises and agreements. Kabu really appreciates that.

-Nessa: Nessa’s work ethic. Nessa puts in a lot of work to do all the things she wants to do. Kabu knows that not everyone would be able to do that.

-Bea: How hard she works. Bea is always training. Kabu always admires those who work hard to get stronger.

-Allister: How advanced he is. Allister is the youngest gym leader Galar has ever seen. Kabu is very impressed.

-Opal: Her attitude. She’s always sarcastic and sassy, and Kabu thinks it’s funny.

-Gordie: The way he looks after Piers. Kabu has known Gordie since he was very young, and he knows that Piers is his best friend. Gordie has always been there to support Piers when he needs it, and it reminds Kabu of his friendship with Melony.

-Melony: She’s a good friend. Kabu and Melony have been best friends for a very long time. And despite how long it’s been, Melony and Kabu are still as close as ever.

-Piers: How hard he works. Not everyone sees it, but Piers puts everything he has into taking care of Spikemuth and following his own ambitions.

-Raihan: His passion. Kabu relates to and admires Raihan’s commitment to becoming stronger than Leon.

-Leon: His strength. Leon is so strong it’s unreal, and yet he’s still very humble. It’s a source of inspiration.

Bea:

-Milo: His physical strength. Bea loves to spar, and Milo is a formidable match.

-Nessa: Her involvement. Nessa is always seen doing something for her community. Bea teaches martial arts, so seeing Nessa teaching swimming is something they bond over.

-Kabu: His desire to better himself. Kabu and Bea train together relatively often.

-Allister: His childishness. No one knows Allister as well as Bea, and it’s refreshing to see him act like a kid.

-Opal: Her stories. Opal was very strong and chaotic when she was younger. Bea loves to hear about it.

-Gordie: His type specialty. Bea loves to train her pokemon against Gordie’s because of how tough they are.

-Melony: Her kindness. Melony is very strong, but she’s also very kind and generous. Bea always loves seeing her fellow female gym leaders proving their strength.

-Piers: His advocacy for his pokemon. Bea knows that Dark Type pokemon have a huge stigma, and she appreciates that Piers works to change that.

-Raihan: His drive. He’s great to train with because he wants to get stronger so badly.

-Leon: His generosity. Bea would understand if Leon refused to help the gym leaders so he could stay stronger, but Leon is always happy to help the gym leaders train.

Allister:

-Milo: His food. Milo always has something tasty to share with Allister.

-Nessa: How nice she is. Nessa is always thoughtful and kind to Allister. She laughs at all his jokes, so it makes him feel confident.

-Kabu: His stories from Hoenn. Kabu visits Hoenn pretty often and brings snacks and other things back for Allister. And his stories are interesting.

-Bea: Her care. Bea is usually seen as strong and cold, but Allister knows that she takes care of him. He thinks of her as an older sister.

-Opal: Visiting her. Visiting Opal is very nice. The visits are always peaceful and quiet. Opal gives him good snacks, and she seems to understand him.

-Gordie: His gifts. Gordie loves to give material gifts for any occasion he can. Gordie is a really good gift giver, too. Allister doesn’t know Gordie well enough to think of something better.

-Melony: How she takes care of him. Melony is very understanding and accommodating for Allister. She also takes care of Bea, which makes Allister feel better.

-Piers: He accommodates for Allister. Allister used to think Piers was loud and scary, but he’s actually really calm and quiet. Piers is able to take Allister somewhere quiet and keep people away when he’s overwhelmed.

-Raihan: His love of books. Allister likes to read, and Raihan is a good person to talk to about books. Raihan also lends Allister really good books.

-Leon: His understanding. Leon is very loud and energetic. He knows he’s a lot for Allister. He just really appreciates that Leon doesn’t get offended when Allister gets too overwhelmed.

Opal:

-Milo: His connection to nature. Milo gets plants, and bonds with Opal over the forests around Ballonlea.

-Nessa: Her advocacy for strong women. Opal grew up in a really sexist time. She really appreciates Nessa encouraging girls to be strong.

-Kabu: His humor. Opal thinks Kabu’s humor is hilarious. She gets along will with him and Melony.

-Bea: Her care for Allister. Opal thinks it’s fascinating that Bea cares so gently for Allister while she’s still so stoic and strong.

-Allister: His mystery. Opal relates to him more than anyone else. How different he is from others is endearing.

-Gordie: His kindness. Gordie is really supportive and kind to everyone, especially his friends. Gordie takes a lot of time to make sure his friends are okay.

-Melony: Her stories. Opal likes to tell stories, but she loves to hear about when Melony was young and wild.

-Piers: His resilience. Opal can tell that Piers is a survivor. He adapts to everything and has achieved success despite everything he’s been through.

-Raihan: His history knowledge. Raihan likes to ask questions about events that Opal lived through and Opal likes to share those stories with him.

-Leon: His care for Hop. Opal’s favorite side of Leon is the caring brother side. She knows how happy it makes Hop when Leon is with him. It’s heartwarming.

Gordie:

-Milo: His humor. Gordie likes to crack jokes with Milo because they always seem to land.

-Nessa: Her attitude. To Gordie, nothing is funnier than watching Nessa put someone down for being a jerk.

-Kabu: His involvement. Kabu is a close friend of his mother, so Gordie saw him a lot when he was a child. Kabu is like a father figure to Gordie in a way.

-Bea: Her eagerness to fight. Gordie loves pokemon battles against her because she understands rock types really well.

-Allister: His ambition. Gordie knows that Allister has goals for his future, and he can admire that.

-Opal: Her gossip. Gordie gets to hear juicy secrets, either from Opal herself or from Melony, who heard it from the source herself.

-Melony: Her love. No matter how much they fight, Gordie knows Melony was a good mother to him. He can’t hate her ever.

-Piers: His supportiveness. Piers has been Gordie’s best friend since they were children. Piers puts his entire self into being a good friend and helping Gordie. Piers has done a lot for Gordie, especially with the fight going on.

-Raihan: His energy. It’s tough to keep up with Raihan, but it’s an adrenaline rush to hang out because of how much always seems to happen.

-Leon: His involvement with the rest of the league. Leon could be some greater presence, but he isn’t. He’s a friend to the gym leaders, and stands up for them when they need. Gordie really appreciates it.

Melony:

-Milo: The way he takes care of his Pokémon. His flock of Wooloo are well loved and it shows.

-Nessa: Her unwavering determination. Melony admires the way Nessa sticks to her choices and hardly ever budges for other people.

-Kabu: His sense of adventure. Especially when he was younger, Kabu would take Melony on plenty of exciting adventures. Even now that they’re older, her best friend is still a lot of fun.

-Bea: Her care for Allister. Melony is one of the few who knows how kind Bea is to Allister. All they have is each other in essence. And Melony is glad Allister has a solid person to stick to.

-Allister: His childlike curiosity. Melony adores kids, and Allister is no exception. She loves that he asks so many questions and it always learning.

-Opal: Her wisdom. Melony is hardly ever caught off guard or at a loss, but when she is, Opal always knows what to say.

-Gordie: His independence. Even though Melony doesn’t like that Gordie doesn’t train Ice Types, she has to admit that he does well for himself. He’s a big presence without riding the traditions of his family, and he built that himself.

-Piers: The way he cares for Marnie. Melony has known Piers and Marnie since they were kids. Melony is grateful that Piers is such a good caretaker for Marnie, even though the fact that they’re in this position breaks her heart.

-Raihan: His generosity. Raihan is very famous and rich, so he’s always donating things or giving to the people around him. Melony thinks that’s a good attitude for someone like Raihan.

-Leon: His humbleness. Melony remembered when Leon first became champion. He’d been a little arrogant at the time, but he’s humbled himself a lot. She’s glad for it.

Piers:

-Milo: His open mindedness. Piers knows Milo was afraid of him at first, so he was surprised when Milo tried to get to know him. He’s glad for it.

-Nessa: Her confidence. Nessa never lets hurtful comments get her down. That’s something Piers admires and is a little jealous of.

-Kabu: His patience. Kabu and Piers aren’t the closest, but Kabu was there for Piers when he needed him. Piers had been a lot of trouble for Kabu to deal with then, but Kabu never lost his temper with him and was patient the whole time.

-Bea: Her relationship with Allister. Piers know what it’s like to be a kid responsible for an even younger kid. Bea’s not exactly in the same situation he was in, but he still admires her resilience.

-Allister: That he’s introverted. Piers relates to Allister not wanting to be around people. Allister also gives Piers and excuse to get to a quieter place to rest in big events.

-Opal: Her ability to read people. That skill has saved Opal and the people around her a few times. Piers included.

-Gordie: His consistency. Gordie has always been a safe haven for Piers. He’s always been sturdy and supportive and hardly ever wavers when Piers needs him.

-Melony: Her care. Melony is the closest thing to a mom Piers has ever had. He doesn’t know where he’d be if she didn’t insist on taking care of him any way she could.

-Raihan: The fact that he’s extroverted. Raihan can be a chore to deal with sometimes, but Piers also appreciates him because he takes the lead. It’s refreshing to just be dragged around and not have to make any decisions.

-Leon: His understanding. Leon has always been someone who wants to understand and accommodate people. He’s saved Piers’ hide many times because he made the attempt to understand Piers.

Raihan:

-Milo: His laid back view of training. Milo is a strong trainer, but he’s friendly about it. Milo makes for a good relaxing warm up or wind down battle.

-Nessa: Her attitude. Raihan and Nessa are a force to be reckoned with when they’re together. Nessa makes Raihan feel even stronger.

-Kabu: His passion. Kabu is an intense trainer because he wants to better himself. This is a trait they both share.

-Bea: Her intensity. Raihan loves training with her because it’s so difficult to keep up. Certainly, a welcome challenge.

-Allister: His mystery. Understanding Allister the way Raihan does makes him feel exclusive. Also, they talk about books a lot, and that’s fun.

-Opal: Her gossiping. Raihan loves to be in the know, and he’s glad Opal is willing to share with him.

-Gordie: Hanging out with him. Gordie is a fun person to hang out with casually. He always seems to know someone or have something to do.

-Melony: Her cooking. Raihan is a sucker for home cooked meals made with love. When he’s in the area, he always wants to stop by for dinner.

-Piers: His reliability. Piers puts up with a lot, but he always follows through on his promises. He may not seem like it at first, but Piers is a very trustworthy person.

-Leon: His strength. Raihan always looks up to Leon. He worries that if he ever does surpass him, he’ll be without a goal and start to decline.

Leon:

-Milo: His love of kids. Milo is an old friend of Leon’s, since they used to live so close together. Milo was always there to help out with Hop when Leon needed, and he taught Hop a lot of important things.

-Nessa: Her dedication. Leon knows she models and trains Pokémon at the same time. She works hard to do her best with both.

-Kabu: His want to be better. Kabu is always working hard, and it pays off. Leon cares a lot about people who want to be stronger.

-Bea: Her training. Bea throws everything into being a Pokémon trainer, and Leon looks up to her for that.

-Allister: He’s a prodigy. Allister is the youngest gym leader Galar has ever seen. He’s also very strong at the same time. Leon has high hopes for his future.

-Opal: Her experience. When Leon has a problem, Opal always knows how to help. She’s gotten him through a lot.

-Gordie: He’s fun. Whenever Leon needs to go out casually, Gordie knows how to help. Hanging out with Gordie is a good stress reliever.

-Melony: She cares about him and Hop. Melony is very sweet, and Leon knows that she took care of him when he was first settling into the league. He was very grateful, but not surprised, to know that she did the same for Hop later on.

-Piers: His dedication. Piers juggles a lot of things. Being a gym leader, his music, taking care of Marnie and Spikemuth. It’s a lot for one person, but Piers perseveres. Leon doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle all that.

-Raihan: His rivalry. Raihan is always at Leon’s heels. He inspires Leon to keep working hard for himself and the people around him. He knows how important he is for Raihan, too.

I tried to do my best but for some reason it took me three days to get through this.

[lacrimosathedark]

Who'd like some good old fashioned name analysis?

Okay, so, I been doing so much research for Resident Evil stuff and learning shit about fairy tales and timelines and genome editing and searching for impossible Romanian poetry I got overwhelmed and went, fuck it. Why not just look at their names? Maybe I'll learn something there.

So, here I have done it. Name meanings for characters of the Mold Saga so far aka 7 and 8 aka Biohazard and Village.

(Sorry I'm on mobile I'll put a cut here when I can)

Ethan: Firm, enduring, strong, impetuous, long-lived. An incredibly consistently common and popular name. E name just like Eveline, so could be a successor of sorts to the mold.

Mia: Derivative of numerous other names of many possibilities. Mia as a word means “mine” in Italian and Spanish. Mamma Mia is a well known Italian phrase, particularly due to the ABBA song and musical of the same name, and it being the catchphrase of the Nintendo character Mario. The phrase means “my mom”.

Winters: First and last season of the year where everything becomes dormant and cold and either dies or sleeps.

Eveline: Contains “Eve”, as in both the biblical first woman. Also means a night before an event, and the game takes place in the span of one night. The name Eve means “ life”, “living one”, “mother of life”, or “giver of life”. Another possible name origin is as a variant of Aveline, which is a diminutive of Ava, which is the same pronunciation as the name Eva as pronounced in Village.

Baker: Occupational surname. In older times consider an upper-middle class job, much like the family. Also adds the emphasis of the “food” and also how they essentially make more molded.

Jack: God is gracious, supplanter. A nickname for John and other related names, but also a name in itself. It is also a word with a couple meanings, including a heavy lifting tool, to steal something, to take control of something, or an everyman.

Margueritte: Pearl. French name for ox-eyed daisy. Derived from Margaret. Sounds like maggot.

Lucas: Light. Derived from Lucius which means “the bright one” or “the one born at dawn”. Luke is also an Apostle of Jesus and was a physician.

Zoe: Life. Came from the name Eve. Fitting as Zoe was practically pushed out of the family after Eveline’s arrival, replaced as the daughter of the family.

Joe: He will add. Was added as DLC. Short for Joseph. Joseph is the name of multiple biblical figures. One is a child of Jacob and Rachel and Jacob’s favorite son in Genesis (note: Jack is a nickname for Jacob) who was sold into slavery by his jealous brothers, but rose to become vizier, the most powerful position nest to the Pharoah, and forgave his family and brought them to Egypt. One is the husband of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who loved and raised a child he knew was not his against social norms. Another is a disciple known as Joseph of Arimathea who notably took Jesus down from the cross for his burial and testified when he revived and was gone. 

Rosemary: Dew of the sea. Combination of Rose and Mary or the plant rosemary. Roses as a plant vary in meaning depending on color. Mary and its variations have many differing meanings, among them being, “beloved”, “love”, “bitter”, “rebellious”, “wished-for child”, and “drop of the sea”. There are also the allusions to Mary, mother of Jesus as she is sometimes worshipped with roses, and you say Hail Marys on your rosary which is only two letters from her name. In regards to the plant, it is relatively resistant to drought and cold, though some breeds are susceptible to frost and they don’t like too much water. They have fibrous roots, so they spread and fan out like we see with the mold. They thrive in more alkaline soils and seem to have been named by a taxonomist named Carl  Linnaeus. In stories, folklore, and tradition, the plants or flowers are often used for remembrance, specifically for the dead. It’s also been used as a spice and in medicine.

Miranda: Worthy of admiration. Latin in origin. Character in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, and whether she is a strong female character or not is highly debated, as she frequently defies men like her father, but often when they expect and/or want her to. She is otherwise compassionate and naive. The titular character of a Polish novel in which everyone is a mage and Miranda is a medium connected to another character, Damayanti, who is portrayed as the ideal woman and has a romance with the male protagonist, yet sacrifices her body so her spirit can experience a higher state of consciousness. Miranda can contact her soul, and disappears when she dies. Miranda in the US refers to the required practice by police of reading suspects their rights before interrogation.

Eva: Latin form of “Eve” and meaning “life”, “mother of life”, or “giver of life”.

Duke: A ruler of a duchy. A title bestowed by royalty or passed through family, often given to royalty or nobility, but can be given to anyone. In France,  the peerage system was abolished in 1789 (vive la révolution), brought back in 1814, and finally perma-abolished in 1848. 

(Note: While the wife of a duke becomes a duchess, the husband of a duchess does not become a duke. At least, from what I gather. This shit is confusing.)

Alcina: Strong-willed. Greek origin. There are two operas using the same story about a sorceress named Alcina who lives on an island with her sister Morgana and seduces every knight who comes to the island, but turns them into plants, animals, or stones when she bores of them. When the source of her power is destroyed, she, her sister, and their palace crumble to dust. The Hungarian name for Alțâna, a commune in Sibiu County, Romania in the historical region of Transylvania.

Bela: Bela Lugosi was an actor who famously portrayed Dracula. His name is Hungarian and meant to be spelled Béla meaning “heart”, “insides”, or “intestines”, roughly translating to “having heart” or “having guts” in modern terminology, as in being brave. However it is considered a male name and as Bela is female there is also the possibility of the influence of the name Bella short an l, Bella an Italian name meaning “beautiful”.

Cassandra: The one who shines and excels over men. Name of a Trojan princess and priestess in Greek mythology. She was given her gift of prophecy by the god Apollo but, in most versions of the tale, he asks for sexual favors in return, and she initially agrees but then rejects him once she’s gotten her gift. In anger he cursed her to always tell true prophecies that no one would believe and was thus thought a madwoman. She served a temple of Athena, goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and warfare. When Cassandra was assaulted and possibly raped in Athena’s temple and dragged out while desperately clinging to Athena’s statue, Athena was so enraged by the damage done to her temple and/or her priestess that she enlisted the help of both Zeus and Poseiden to exact revenge on the Greeks for failing to punish the man who attacked Cassandra and caused the resulting damage. Zeus gave her one of his own bolts of lightning and she struck them down at sea. While Cassandra was never believed, she was always right.

Daniela: God is my judge. Feminine form of Daniel. Daniela is also a genus of moth with only one species in the genus, Daniela viridis. It is also another name for the Italian wine grape Prè blanc.

Dimitrescu: Child of Dimitri. -escu suffixes in Romanian are like -son suffixes in English, it derives from parentage (ex. Jackson is Jack’s son, Dimitrescu is Dimitri’s child). Dimitri means “devoted to Demeter”. Demeter is the Greek goddess of the harvest, agriculture, sacred law (i.e. cycle of life and death), fertility, and the earth. Like many Greek myths, she is repeatedly wronged, and rather severely, by multiple male figures. Demeter in particular is a mother who has her daughter Kore, later known as Persephone, stolen away from her and goes on a rampage searching for her and those responsible.

(Note: Considering the founders had these names it’s a bit dumb seeing as this trend of parentage -escu names supposedly came about mid 19th century (1800s for those who find that confusing cuz I do), long after the Village was founded)

Donna: Lady or lady of the home. Italian name and a title of respect. Derives from the Latin term Dominus. The Romanian form of the word (not the name) is Doamnã. The Atropa belladonna aka deadly nightshade have berries and foliage that contain tropane alkaloids including atropine, scopolamine, and hyoscyamine which are extremely toxic and can cause hallucinations and delirium, but are also used in pharmaceutical anticholinergics. Throughout history people cluelessly used the berry juice as eye drops to cosmetically dilate their pupils, giving them a seductive doll-eyed appearance. Symptoms of belladonna poisoning are dilated pupils, sensitivity to light, blurred vision, tachycardia, loss of balance, staggering, headache, rash, flushing, severely dry mouth and throat, slurred speech, urinary retention, constipation, confusion, hallucinations, delirium, and convulsions. The plant's deadly symptoms are in atropine’s ability to disrupt the parasympathetic nervous system’s involuntary regulation like sweating, breathing, and heartbeat.

Angie: Diminutive of many names containing “angel”. Angels are messengers and warriors of Heaven, a realm souls go after death. Angel statues are also common grave markers. Children are also often told they have guardian angels, a being watching over them to protect them.

Claudia: No sure meaning has been found, but some think it comes from claudus, meaning “lame”, “limping”, or “crippled”, or clausus, which means “shut” or “closed”.

Beneviento: Good wind. Neapolitan spelling of Benevento, the name of both a province and its capital city, located in the Campania region of Italy.

Salvatore: Savior. Italian name. In the movie version (I specify as I have not read the book and the movie synopsis has more on the characters) of The Name of the Rose, the character Salvatore is hunch-backed and twisted, and has a history of not-really-acceptable religious beliefs. He was also tortured and falsely accused of witchcraft. He dies when a library is set on fire.

Moreau: Moorish, dark-skinned. French surname. Titular doctor in The Island of Doctor Moreau, in which said doctor performs disturbing and torturous experiments on people and animals, especially through vivisection, to make beastial humanoid creatures.

Karl: Free man, strong man, manly. Werner Karl Heisenberg was a German theoretical physicist who made notably important contributions to hydrodynamics, ferromagnetism, cosmic rays, and subatomic particles. Karl Marx was a German philosopher, economist, historian, sociologist, political theorist, journalist, and socialist revolutionary who believed societies develop through class conflict, and in a capitalist society this is the “ruling” class (the bosses) having power over the working class. He believed people should have equal footing and should and would inevitably fight for it. Karl Jaspers was a German existentialist philosopher and psychiatrist. His humanist ideals had him dissatisfied with the medical community’s approach to mental health and worked to improve it, and philosophizing on it after.

(IMPORTANT NOTE: Since I’ve seen accusations of the RE character and his influences being so, I feel I must state it here. Karl Heisenberg is NOT a Nazi. Both Heisenberg and Jaspers lived through World War II and neither were Nazis. Jaspers was blackwalled because of his Jewish wife. Heisenberg was forcibly drafted into the Army Weapons Bureau, but pre-war he had been repeatedly slandered as a “white Jew” and his career held back, and post-war became more political, worked against traditional primacy in the education system, and actively protested the government considering equipping the army with American nuclear weapons. Capcom reps have also stated that Karl Heisenberg has nothing to do with Nazis.)

Heisenberg: Calling mountain (could not find a specific definition, “heisen” means “to call” and “berg” means “mountain or hill”). Reference to Werner Karl Heisenberg, (explained above). Likely unrelated, but another well-known (in the US at least) name thief of Heisenberg comes from the popular TV show Breaking Bad as the alias/street name for the main character Walter White who takes the name and starts selling drugs when he is unable to afford medical care for his in-need child, but grows more twisted throughout the series. Also place name.

Berengario: Italian form of Berengar, which is derived from Germanic root words meaning “bear” and “spear”.

Cesare: Italian form of the Latin word Caesar, which is an imperial title like an emperor or empress. The word Caesar itself may come from caesaries meaning “hairy”. 

Guglielmo: Italian form of the Germanic William, meaning “vehement protector” or “desired helmet”

Nichola: Anglicized form of the Greek Nikolaos meaning “victory of the people”. Also a variant of Nicholas (Considered a female variant but fuck gender roles and the description says he.). This character is also referred to as Father like a priest I looked into saints and while I found no notable Saint Nichola (meaning on Wikipedia) there are multiple Saint Nicholases, most notably Saint Nicholas of Myra, also known as the Wonderworker and the model of Santa Claus. Stories of him include gifting gold coins through a window of a home for three nights to prevent three girls from being forced into prostitution, calming a storm at sea, saving three soldiers from execution, and chopping down a possessed tree. More connected to where his treasure is found, there is also a tale of him resurrecting three children who had been murdered by a butcher who had had intended to sell their meat as “pork” during the famine.

*BONUS TIME*

By that I mean these are less important so I did slightly less research and/or didn’t  feel like typing all the research so there’s less info, but it’s still relevant, so here you go!

Chris: A rare name in its own right, often a shortened version of names like Christopher, meaning “Christ-bearer”, and Christian, as in the religion.

Redfield: Literally red field. Fitting for the trail of blood in his wake because have mercy on any of his enemies, but regrettably including many of his friends and allies (rip in peace Piers Nivans). 

Elena: Shining light. Greek origin.

Leonardo: Strong as a lion. Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese version of Leonard.

Lupu: Wolf. Romanian surname. Fitting as the surname of the man we saw become a lycan before our eyes. 

Luiza: Renowned warrior. Polish, Portuguese, and Romanian name.

Iulian: Romanian name from the Greek iulius meaning “youthful” or “juvenile”, or ioulos meaning “downy-bearded”.

Vasile: Romanian name from the Greek basileus meaning ”king”. Vasile Voiculescu wrote a poem called Schimnicul, The Recluse in English, about varcolacul.

(Note: For those who don’t recall or didn’t notice his name in Ethan’s diary, this is Luiza’s husband.)

Rolando: Famous throughout the land. Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese variant of Roland.

Elba: Spanish form of Alba, which can mean “dawn”, “white”, or “elf”, depending on origin.

Dion: Shorter form of Greek Dionysios meaning “of Zeus”.

Wilson: Lineage surname, “Will’s son”. Very common surname in English.

Charlie: A name in itself but often a nickname for names like Charles meaning “man” or “warrior”

Graham: Gravelly homestead. Habitational surname, apparently derived from Grantham in Lincolnshire, England.

John: God is gracious. The most common name ever with the most variations.

Perlman: Ashkenazi Jewish surname. Also literal, “perl” possibly meaning “pearl” thus being an occupational name, or Perl being a woman’s name making it mean “husband of Perl”.

Emily: Rival. Latin name. 

Berkoff: Could be Jewish, Dutch, or German surname. Definition not quite certain, but likely related to birch trees.

Josef: German, Czech, and Scandinavian version of Joseph.  

Simon: He has heard. From Hebrew Shim’on.

Roxana: Bright, dawn. Latin form of Greek Rhoxane and Persian Roshanak.

Anton: Priceless, praiseworthy, flower.

Sebastian: From the Latin name Sebastianus which meant “from Sebaste”. Sebaste is a town in Asia Minor and comes from the Greek word sebastos meaning “venerable”.

Eugen: Well-born.Romanian form of Eugene. From the Greek name Eugenios. 

(Note: This is the man who lived in the house with the red chimney.)

Ernest: Serious. Germanic name.

(Note: This man is noted to be missing in a letter to Luiza and his diary is found with the Cannibal’s Plunder in Otto’s Mill.)

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1,

Chapter 2,

Chapter 3,

Chapter 4,

Chapter 5, 

Chapter 6

Summary: The Weasley family have traditions about marriage and Bill has to respect them if he truly wants the reader become his wife. In the attempt to respect his family wishes the weasleys have to visit reader’s grandparent Tim Grant who has a lot of things to say

Word count: 5K TOO LONG I’M SO SORRY

Warnings: none(?

A/N: Hey! part 6 of this thing. I’m so sorry to update this late but it was a complicated chapter and the longest so far. I’ll try to make small chapters from now on and the wedding is aproching, you guys!! i’m sooo excited to publish that part but we have to wait a little more for that.

So, as i’ve said in the last chapter, i changed some things from de canon like Bill being attacked by Grayback and such. it’s just for the plot of this series ok? hope you don’t mind guys.

Anyways, like always, english not my mother language so pls let me know if somethings wrong. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Your life is not enough

You needed a couple of weeks to fully recover, even if it meant having Bill on your back every hour and taking you away from your duties with the Order. The mission that Remus Lupin gave you had to wait until further notice, all for William's excessive concern about your wounds

The task of keeping you away was complicated, more so when the Death Eater attacks had gained strength that no one expected. The members of the order spent twenty-four hours a day on watch with no time for breaks, even Bill went three days without sleep until you, still recovering , left the room and dragged him back with you regardless of his constant complaining. Molly supported you in the decision - thank god - telling her son not to worry that the rest of the Order would keep their eyes fully opened and he could rest comfortably next to you

The drastic change in Mrs. Weasley's behavior confused you because there was no reason for it, but the relief helped make your recovery quicker and less painful. The healer who  you the morning after the accident with the Death Eaters took too long to close the wound as it was a curse wound and it needed a counter spell to heal properly, but not having one, he used other tactics and Dittany to help it heal. However, the help had come too late, and the scar was a throbbing fact that stung terribly when you made the slightest move. The healer said the burning and discomfort would go away with time, but the redness would stay forever. You thought that would be the last of your problems until you got your first glimpse of the result of the attack.

It was a disastrous thing, but it could have been much worse. You sighed as you looked at your disheveled image in the bathroom mirror. You had just taken a shower and Bill was still dressing in the bedroom. You took off the robe Ginny had given you a night before, watching the scar glisten across the valley of your breasts ending above your ribs. You sighed again, if you didn't consider yourself pretty before, at that moment you felt awful.

A new figure appeared in the reflection accompanied by a bright smile. William wore his white shirt tucked into his pants, his bow tie dangling from his collar and his suspenders placed perfectly flush against his shoulders. You smiled, looking at him through the mirror.

“Getting used to your dazzling new short hair?” You asked as you noticed Bill's nervous hand run over his head for the fifth time after the shower. Bill groaned, burying his face in your neck.

“I hate this style”

“And why did you cut it off, then?”

“Mom made me," he stated, tightening his hands around your waist, "She wants me to make a good impression, and for once I wanted to please her in something”

“Wow, your mom wanting to impress my family? That's new”

“Well, not every day you get to visit Lord Voldemort's brother," you gave him a bad look, smacking his hand, "Too soon for a joke, sorry”

You shook your head, escaping from Bill's embrace putting perfume behind your ear, on your wrists and neck. You gasped when a small drop of perfume touched your wound, reddening it. Your eyes lost in the scar again, knowing that even if your dress managed to cover most of it, the initial edges would be exposed like the body of a worm crawling through your clothes. Bill discovered your discontent. He hugged you again, running his fingertips over your sore skin as he kissed your bare shoulder. Maybe you couldn't see it, but for Bill you were perfect. Not just for the way you looked, but  the beautiful heart that, even if he didn't deserve it, you had given him without any qualms. You deserved to be appreciated by the rest of the world, not just by him.

“I love you. You know that, don't you?”

“Even with the scar?”

“With the scar even more. It shows how brave you are and you should be proud of it. You saved Mad-Eye”

“The others will see it”

“It's their problem, not yours. You're still the most beautiful woman in this world.

You smiled, stroking the short hair of the man behind you.

“Not as much as that”

“You're right. I stand corrected. You are the most beautiful woman in both worlds”

“William...”

“I'll help you get dressed," he said, noticing that you were blushing up to your ears. William smiled without understanding why a sweet comment could make you blush, but not the fact that he was looking at you naked from the waist up. He picked up the dress hanging on the dresser reaching over to help it over your head pulling it down gently so as not to hurt you. Then, he zipped up your back leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

Bill's false calm didn't go unnoticed by you. As you smoothed the folds of your dress you noticed the trembling in his hands and the way his feet drummed on the floor. He was playing with the zipper of your dress pulling it up and down, trying to calm his nerves

“Bill, it's not necessary to do this”

“It is!” He replied looking up. You turned to him, crossing your arms around his neck, "I want to respect the traditions, to do things right. I want to show everyone that we mean business. It's just that...”

“My grandfather scares you?”

“What? No” You raised an eyebrow “Okay, maybe a little”

“You don't need to talk to him. He'll understand”

“I want to”

You gave in to Bill's pout. A few days ago, just after he asked you to marry him, Arthur Weasley spoke to his son asking him how he would go about keeping the traditions of the family. Bill didn't seem to understand what he was referring to when his father explained that the Weasleys used to always, always, visit the bride's parents' home right after the engagement to ask for their approval. Offerings were usually brought in a show of respect and the parents in question would respond by offering dinner for the guests. Bill's eyes widened, was that a real tradition?, he didn't know, “why didn't you ever tell me about it!” he questioned his father in a shout. Arthur knew about his son's untimely ignorance, returning the accusation, “Would that have made any difference on your desire to have her as your wife?” Bill didn't have to think too hard. “Of course not!” he shouted and his father laughed, patting him on the shoulder. His son was brave and would have asked for his bride's hand even from Voldemort himself. Bill was lucky tho cause he only had to talk to the old alchemist Tim Grant.

Your grandfather was the only one in the family who seemed to be neutral in the war caused by his brother, but above all he was the person who loved you most as you had both been banished from the Grants for standing up for your own convictions. Maybe Tim wasn’t an active member of either side, however, the blood connection with his brother Tom Riddle sent shivers down the spines of those around him. The man isolated himself in the Galapagos islands dangerously close to a volcano, where he was sure his brother wouldn’t dare to look for him. The Weasleys, hearing the story from your lips didn’t understand why.

You used a portkey to get to your grandfather's house. Arthur had communicated with Tim hours earlier and the two of them managed to establish a connection undetected for the ministry thanks to  the old Grant's powerful magic and his skills as an alchemist.  You couldn't hide your excitement at seeing your grandfather again, which encouraged Bill's eagerness to formally introduce himself to his next.... grandfather-in-law?

“Well then, but you don't have to worry. Grandpa is a very understanding man”

“Yeah, I'm sure he is”

“Bill Weasley, who knew talking to an old man would make you so nervous?”

“Very funny” he rolled his eyes, gluing his forehead to yours “I just want him to like me, (Y/N)”

“He likes everyone”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“It will when you talk to him and see there's nothing to be afraid of” You stood on your tiptoes cause even with your high heels you couldn't reach his height. You kissed his cheek, snatching a warm smile from him “He's not like the rest of my family”

“I didn't mean to imply that, I'm sorry”

“It's all right, I know you didn't mean it. Now let's go downstairs, your mother must be going crazy”

“As if she wasn't already”

You slapped his arm as you descended the stairs. You didn't want Molly to hear them and relive her recently dissipated discontent with you

The rest of the family were already near the portkey with their arms full of baskets with offerings for your grandpa and the twins carrying some strange ornaments. Bill's sister Ginny greeted you with a smile, handing one of the baskets to her older brother. Molly and Arthur approached their children, both hanging on the opposite arm dressed in their best sunday clothes to make a good impression. You smiled without waiting for Bill's mother to smile back.

After the accident at Little Whinging Molly's rudeness disappeared. Not that she accepted you with open arms, but she stopped making bad comments and avoided looking at you in a bad way. Bill didn't know what Mad-Eye said to his mother that night when he told everyone how you had saved him knowing how much he owed you, but Bill didn't understand the size of the changing till he saw his mother offer you a piece of litchi pie the night after the attack when you were recovering from the wound. It was not that big of a deal really, but it had left you with a permanent smile on your face.

It was Molly herself who had taken the initiative to encourage Bill to fulfill the family tradition. If a Grant was going to come into their home as their son's wife then she should do it the way they knew. Her first piece of advice to her son was cutting his hair to a normal length. Bill was horrified by his mother's words cause he knew she was taking advantage of the moment to make him suffer with his precious mane. He did it anyway, because there wasn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for you

It was a drastic change, but it was worth it. Molly saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of her son so changed, with his hair cut short and his beard shaved. Your fingers danced over his face appreciating the effort Molly, not yet convinced of your influence at home, had made for you. Molly stifled a smile, unaware even to herself, that you were slowly beginning to win her heart.

You touched the shuttle at the same time falling precipitously in the sand and Harry helped you up  with a smile. Then you walked straight appearing in front of a huge house that was sheltered by the foothills of the bubbling volcano on the other side of the island. The twins, like the rest of the family, let out an exclamation of astonishment as Ron, harried by the huge spiders hovering in the sand, ran for the door.

The smell of freshly cooked food escaped through the cracks in the door before it was opened. The twins' eyes widened as they recognized the delicious smell of cooked prawns and coconut sauce wafting over their heads. You knocked on the door three times, then stopped and resumed the knocking four more times. The Weasleys watched you, did you have a special code to communicate with each other?

"Come in" You gave way to them closing the door behind you and sealing it with an unknown spell. Bill waited for you at the threshold as his family was already making their way to the table where a very well dressed Tim Grant was waiting for them sitting in the main chair. Bill looked at him from his position, shaking “We still have time to run away” you joked “If you're not ready...”

“I am," he said confidently.

“Okay”

You both walked toward the dining room. Tim was greeting the rest of the family enthusiastically. Bill sighed. At least Tim seemed to get along with his parents, so that was good. They all filled a seat, with Tim occupying the head and Arthur the opposite end; Molly sat on Tim's right side and you sat on Mr. Weasley's right side. The twins, Ron, Harry and Ginny took the middle seats leaving Bill the only vacant spot on Tim's left side. Bill took a breath before taking the seat and receiving a curious look from the man.

“Ah, how wonderful is to have more people to fill the empty spaces! A table this big doesn't serve any purpose unless it's fully occupied, does it? That's what I always say!”

“Don't you usually get many visitors?” asked Molly, breaking the ice. Bill felt sweat trickle down his back. Tim guffawed, patting the back of Molly's hand on the table.

“I’m afraid so. I think that is cause I'm the only one crazy enough to live near an active volcano and my family's fame doesn't help me much either, I'm generally a lonely man. Most of the time it's frustrating, but I can deal with it. You are a big family from i can see, are they all yours, Arthur?”

“Only the redheads," he replied. You recognized in his tone of voice a slight pride “The other one is...”

“Harry Potter” Tim Grant's eyes sparkled with recognition. He looked at Harry with a smile, bowing his head to him in respect. Harry did the same “I know him. He's the guy who's been giving my brother headaches”

Tim's laughter echoed through the house being followed by the twins and you cleared your throat to get his attention. Tim spotted you from across the table waving his hand dismissively.

“Grandpa, please”

“A little joke to lighten the mood, my dear, oh, are these for me?” he questioned, bringing closer the baskets offered by the Weasleys resting on the table. Bill's basket was in front of him waiting to be properly delivered, so he stood up and did as he should. Tim Grant gladly received it, complimenting the selection they had made “What a cute boy, did you see him, dear,? he's gone red!”

You let out a chuckle, nodding at your grandfather's words. Bill's face was flushed as he returned to his spot and looked down at his hands. Tim guffawed again and banged the table.

“I appreciate the gifts, Arthur, I've never been part of a tradition like this before”

“It was important for my son and the rest of us to do it, to introduce ourselves properly”

“Sure! It's what a family with honor does. I'm not surprised. No, not at all. The Weasleys were in the book of the sacred twenty-eight for a long time until they were struck off the list. Tell me, that was quite a blow, wasn't it?”

“Not so much, my family has never cared about that sort of thing”

“Of course! It never did, I could see it up close. Did you know I was friends with your grandmother, Lysandra Yaxley?”

Arthur's eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Really. My family also once belonged to the most important pureblood families until I was born, of course. Lysandra and I became friends because her family also got kicked off the list when Cedrella, your mother, married your father Septimus Weasley. Even your grandfather Arcturus was removed from the Black family tree which was an embarrassment for him being that the ancestral Black family is too proud and such. Anyway, that's part of life, right? Creating new families, bringing people together...”

“Was your family always purebloods?” Fred asked. Tim shook his head

“It was. As I mentioned, before I made my appearance in this world”

“Why?”

Tim was suddenly silent. You scanned your grandfather's face waiting for an answer. Dinner plates flew in from the kitchen and positioned themselves at each guest's place setting while a huge chocolate fountain was set up in the center accompanied by a plate overflowing with assorted fruit. The baskets took a turn and took a place on your grandpa's shelves. Tim sighed, looking at the Weasleys asking to begin dinner.

“I’m the son of a witch, but not of a pure blood wizard”

“Don't you and Lord Voldemort share the same father?”

“Harry...”

”It's all right, Molly, I can answer that” Tim rubbed his chin, thinking “I understand your concern boy, being hide here doesn't make me ignorant to what's going on out there and I know better than anyone what you're going through. You need weapons against my brother and you do well. Tom is a big threat, a very big threat indeed. You're right, Tom and I don't share a father, but that doesn't make him any less my brother.

“I think we're straying from the subject that brought us here” mentioned Arthur feeling a sudden warmth. You supported him, but Tim continued to speak

“I was the son of Merope Gaunt and Aleister Grant. My father was a famous son, grandson and great-grandson of brilliant alchemists, and unsurprisingly he was one himself. Merope Gaunt was...  a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Parselmouth. She had a brother named Morfin and my grandfather was Sorvolo Gaunt. My parents met when the Gaunts had just moved to Little Hangleton after their exile and needed a place to stay. They became the owners of a squalor ridden shack on the edge of town and well, my father was a young alchemist who lived near the Gaunt abode”

You sipped from your wine glass as you listened to your grandfather speak. Never, even with the rest of the family, had he ever struck such a chord as he was doing with the Weasleys. The truth was that you didn't understand why he was telling them all that, however, you weren’t interested in interrupting the story as you knew your grandfather had a purpose with him.

“Those of us who are dedicated to alchemy have never enjoyed an enviable reputation because our transmutation abilities are mostly underestimated by the things that magic in general can produce and it makes a science like alchemy reserved for muggles in their attempt to approach the power that the wizards possess. Personally I think there is something right about that, precisely cause the transmutation in the Muggle world is divided into subjects they taught in schools like chemistry or physics, but alchemy goes beyond that, it’s a connection between the wizard and the spirituality that each one possesses...” the man's gaze was lost in a place at the table, pausing the story. Harry settled back on the seat waiting for him to continue “But it's very difficult to erase the deep-rooted ideas about it, so the best is ignore that and continue doing what we believe is right. Anyway, ah! I got off topic, didn't I? Okay, okay, well my parents ended up meeting and my father fell in love with my mother as fast as my socks get cold at night, but that infatuation wasn’t well regarded by my uncle and even less by my grandfather, of course, for the fame of the alchemists at the time”

“So what happened?” you asked. Tim smiled at you, taking a bite of the rye bread on his plate.

“My mother was treated worse than a house- elf by her father and Morfin, so she decided to run away with my father to France where he had several alchemist friends who could protect them. The Gaunts might have been exiled, but they were still dangerous and to be honest I think my father was terribly afraid of uncle Morfin. They eventually made it to France, but they encountered an infamous muggle who tried to hurt my mother”

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to Tim as he drank his third glass of wine. You thought that your grandfather wouldn't even be able to stand up by the end of the night.

“He was known as Gilles De Rais. He was a sadistic muggle who tried to become a wizard even though he wasn't born a wizard and used my father to tell him secrets of alchemy. One night they were having a conversation when my father revealed him that there were certain amounts of gold in people's bodies. Gold is a very valuable component, as you already know, so the man's greed didn’t take long to show itself and he questioned my dad how it could be obtained. My father told him that the only way to obtain the gold was by draining the blood and dividing it with a very complicated procedure, however, the gold of an ordinary adult was quite scarce. The real wealth was in the blood of children of no more than ten years old because they possessed a great amount of gold and other components that could be transmuted into riches. The muggle did so, and when he learned that my mother was a real witch, he wanted to know if golden blood ran through her veins, which would make him richer than he already was. My father refused, and decided to leave the place before he hurt us, because they knew she was already pregnant. The muggle went mad and unleashed in him a fury that spread throughout France”

The Weasley twins chorused an astonished murmur as the others moved up to the table so as not to miss a word of the story. You sent a glance at Bill as he hadn't stopped sweating and going over his words all evening.

"They wanted to go back to Little Hangleton but my uncle and grandfather were still in a rage waiting to see them arrive, so my father sent my mother alone while he found another place to stay as he could not expose her to the cold streets of France while on standby, so they had no choice but to leave her with her family avoiding revealing my existence to them. Uncle Morfin didn’t want my mother back, but my grandfather convinced him because they needed someone to take care of the house and their needs. Time passed, my father didn’t come back and I was born in the garden of the house while my mother watered the plants”

“My birth was a surprise to everyone because my mother knew how to hide me well until my father's arrival but, as that didn't happen, I couldn't stand it any longer and made my triumphant appearance on my grandfather's favorite bushes. Uncle Morfin was furious and even tried to get rid of me immediately, but my mother clung to me like a lioness.

“Really?”

“Really," he replied with a broad smile, "I think a part of her was still holding on to my father showing up at some point and getting us out of there, but again that didn't happen. Mom had to endure her brother and father's abuse for me and that's a debt I can never repay”

The whole table fell silent, thinking. Dinner continued as a heavy thunderstorm rumbled overhead, accompanying old Tim Grant's story as if it were yesterday. The man paused to eat and the others did the same with no desire to miss a word. Harry's eyes sparkled in wonder and Mr. Weasley's strong hand on yours helped to soothe your fervent anguish.

“I guess that's what mothers do, isn't it? Anyway, the years passed and I had to live under uncle Morfin's shadow and at the mercy of his growing wrath. When I turned five I started helping the market men with their chores in exchange for a couple of pounds which we had to exchange later for galleons and sickles to survive for two weeks. Mom helped bring money into the house, but it wasn't enough. Then, at seven, the Dream Messengers showed up one night telling me I was required to study at the Uagadou magical college in Africa so I couldn't refuse”

“Wait, Uagadou takes students from the age of seven?”

“Oh I see," the man settled back in his chair, wiping the corners of his lips with a napkin as he stared at Ron, "I forgot that the rest of the magical schools aren't very well known around here, are they? Well, yes, some schools take in very young students as is the case with Uagadou or the Japanese school. It depends a lot on the traditions in each region i guess, because in the African school they select only descendants of alchemists or who have had at least someone  in their bloodline whose spirituality helped them to become one. It wasn't all as easy as that, of course, because each student had to pass a test before having a permanent stay, but....

“What kind of test?” Harry questioned when dinner was over and they start dessert. The twins were the first to help themselves a piece of fruit, playing with the chocolate fountain in the center of the table.

“One that only wizards with alchemist ancestry could pass, Mr. Potter. I passed the test so I had no choice but to move to the castle immediately. I didn't want to leave my mother alone, but she convinced me to do it. Going to Uagadou was a great opportunity for me and for her cause it meant I could follow in my father's footsteps” Tim's face suddenly darkened as he pushed away the overflowing plate of fruit Molly offered him. He folded his hands on the table and thought for a long moment. The twins continued to play with the chocolate fountain but a fierce look from their mother made them stop. Then Tim Grant sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the handkerchief on his coat “I regret that decision to this day. I could have gone to Hogwarts like any other wizard, but I suppose my ambition got the better of me. Maybe... if I hadn't left Little Hangleton she never would have met Tom Riddle”

You tensed as you felt the pressure of Mr. Weasley's hand on yours a little too tightly. One glance at the others was enough to understand the dread the name struck their nerves. You even caught a glimpse of the hiss on Molly's lips and saw the sting in Harry's scar. Tim let out a chuckle, taking another drink from his wine glass.

“My brother’s father. I didn't hear from him until a couple of years later, when my mother wrote to me saying that uncle Morfin was in Azkaban and that my grandfather had died. She didn't give me many details, however, she did very vaguely mention the presence of a muggle who was quite striking to her. For better or worse, my mother was already forgetting my father, believing that he had abandoned her or, at worst, that he had dropped dead somewhere in France. I didn't believe the same, but it was logical that she got tired of waiting. I would never have grown tired, at least not having loved the way they did”

Your gaze rolled to meet Bill's eyes as he looked back at you. He smiled at you, causing you to blush. Then you both looked back at your grandpa who was sipping a new glass of wine.

“It was a couple more years before I stopped hearing from my family. Mom never wrote again and with uncle Morfin in Azkaban there was nothing that could be done. When I was eleven i returned to Little Hangleton only to find that my mother had married Tom Riddle, got pregnant and he had thrown her out on the street like a dog. She was left with nothing, unable to return to her father’s old house, and was forced to wander in the streets for months, until one rainy december night she went into labor in the middle of an alley. I helped her as much as I could, dragged her to the door of an orphanage where my mother no longer even had the strength to save the three of us. She had her wand in her hand, but she never used it. She gave up in front of me, the baby was born and asked me to name him after his father. She put him in my arms, the door of the orphanage opened, but mother had already died”

“Grandpa-”

“As you can understand, it's kind of hard for me to remember all that," Tim Grant's reddened eyes closed, choking back tears, "I was just a little kid taking care of a baby and I didn't do my best job of raising him. I was upset with my mother for a long time after she died, but I don't judge her now. After living an almost totally miserable life, my mother had no hope and not enough courage to make her want to keep trying, even for the sake of her newborn son. That decision had a considerably negative impact on Tom's psyche as he was growing up I suppose cause I had to go back to school and I couldn't take him with me, I would have! Of course I would have. I tried, but Tom wasn’t descended from any alchemist and there was nothing I could do about that. I tried, Merlin knows I did. I felt the need to leave him in that orphanage. I visited him whenever I could. For a year I went back and forth from continent to continent to see him, but that wasn't enough for Tom to grow up feeling loved. Orphanage life is hard, dear friends, we shouldn’t judge others too harshly, much less a lonely mother” Tim Grant's irritated eyes were fixed on Harry, reflecting deep pain “She was weakened by her long suffering and she never had Lily Evans’ courage. Everyone sacrifices for those they love in different ways, and my mother did it in her own way”

“Why didn't you ever talk about this?” you asked from across the table. Everyone looked at you “when dad asked you so-”

“Your father didn't need any more reasons to support Tom's follies” Tim shook his head “My brother is a very convincing person not only with his family members but with anyone who gets in the way of his plans. He has a very affiliated serpentine tongue, he inherited the gift of gab from our ancestors and your father grew up under his influence”

“We're very sorry for what you had to go through, Tim, but there's nothing that can be done about you-know-who and all that's left for us to do is to fight him”

“I understand, Arthur, but that doesn't stop me from blame myself. I did what I could, but an eleven-year-old can't take the place of his parents. When I graduated from school and wanted to take care of him Tom was already at Hogwarts and completely disappeared from everyone's eye," he lamented, scrunching his eyelids together, "That was the last time I saw him as the real Tom and not the ghastly grayish mass he is now”

The twins and Ron laughed at the comment and were immediately silenced by their father. Tim scrunched up his eyes, took a breath and let out a laugh looking around the room.

“Well, enough whining, that's not what you guys are here for, is it?” Bill, that had kept silent, denied when the man turned to see him, "What's done is done, and lamenting won't do any good, but I hope that what I've just told you will help you to see Tom's human side if he still has it, which I doubt it very much”

“Thank you, sir”

“You're welcome, Harry, dear, well? What was you wanted to tell me, my boy?”

Tim Grant turned his full body towards Bill, almost climbing up on the table fixing his huge opaque eyes on Bill's. Bill held his gaze noticing that the man was drunk since the beginning of the evening. He looked to you for help, but you were too busy watching Mrs. Weasley's reaction to hearing the reason for your visit.

“Come on, boy, don't be shy”

“I... well, I wanted to-”

“Oh, Arthur, your son is so cute!” he shouted as he squeezed Bill's cheeks. His brothers and Harry laughed and even Molly hid a mischievous smile by putting a piece of apricot in her mouth “Poor frightened boy. But, come on! I'm not going to make it harder for you, I know you're here to ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage, aren't you?”

“Yes, that's right, sir”

“Well, that's a great gesture of you, but this is a job for (Y/N)’s parents”

“It is, but you understand that under such circumstances we couldn't pay a courtesy visit to the Death Eaters," Arthur interjected with an amused smile.

“Indeed”

“So...”.

“So..." repeated Tim. You sighed, "You love my granddaughter?

“Yes, sir”

“How much?”

“A lot”

“Are you going to protect her, take care of her, and love her?”

“With my life, sir”

“Your life is not enough for me, William” Tim smiled at him, tapping Bill's chin with one of his fingers “My granddaughter is still a Grant, descended from very powerful wizards. My hand will not tremble to revenge the suffering you put her through, am i being clear?”

“Y-yes, sir. Crystal clear”

“Good boy," he replied, patting his cheek. Then he turned to Molly, took her hand and kissed the back of it, giving her a beautiful smile. The woman blushed, but it didn't last long because the man turned to her husband and bowed his head in respect. Arthur pressed your hand on the table and also kissed the back of your hand, making a promise “Well, then. Arthur, your son has my blessing to marry my granddaughter”

Mr. Weasley raised his glass, offering it to Tim.

“Thank you, Tim. We promise to take care for (Y/N) as a member of our family”

“I hope so." The man rested his chin on his hands, watching the huge smile form on your lips and kissing Arthur's cheek. He turned to Molly lightly patting her shoulder offering her a sweet roll which she accepted with a giggle “It's nice to see you accepting my (Y/N) so well” Molly wrinkled her nose “Since who she is and coming from a family as complicated as ours...it was hard for me to believe that someone from the outside could fall in love with her someday. I always knew my little girl was different from everyone” Tim's brown irises clouded over. Molly fell silent “You could put her in a basket of rotten apples and she'd make them blossom, so I'm glad to hear you've taken her in as one of yours. Being a Grant is a very complicated task, i never had a problem with people speaking shit about me, i was never ashamed to be recognized as Lord Voldemort's brother, but my yoke should not fall on my granddaughter” Molly Weasley listened carefully “I have always been a faithful supporter of being judged individually and not by the others actions, that would be like punishing children for their parents mistakes, wouldn't it? That wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't make us any less guilty than my brother, isn't that what he’s doing? Punishing Muggle-born wizards just because they weren't born under Merlin's blessing? I like you, Molly, I know you understand.

A pain in her chest made her look down, embarrassed. But then Tim lifted her chin at just the right moment for her to catch the moment her son rose from his place to walk over to you and lock you in a breath-stealing hug. Arthur was at your side watching you and then his attention focused on his wife giving her a beaming smile, the kind she hadn't seen in a long time. Even the rest of their children had joined in the celebration and Harry rose to congratulate you while you and Bill happily sealed your engagement with a kiss. Tim moved Molly's chin towards him, their gazes colliding.

“Yes," Molly whispered, "I understand.

“Good” Tim let out a laugh, pulling away from Molly to toast. The woman watched you as she smiled thinly ”Then my story was useful somehow”

Tag list:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries​

@accio-remus-lupin

@pennyllanne

[votederpycausemufins]

I wonder what people think of the NSMP so far, and how they think of it at the end of the chapter, and just what people think in general

@petrichormeraki the hermit Tommy people and @helleborusangel the online friendo with great rambles!

“So, how are things with Grian?” Grifter looked up as someone sat at the table he was working at.

“Surprisingly well.” Grifter replied. “It took about a day to get him used to standard weapons again, which isn’t too bad. He’s still worried about respawning, which is an obvious fear. Oh, and I’m hoping he’ll be able to hang out with Flora today!”

“Oh, that sounds like a great idea. I know there aren’t many young hermits, so if he’s able to hang with anyone his age- hey maybe I should end lessons early.”

Grifter looked up at the other Listener. “End lessons early? You mean for just one, or both of the kids?”

The Listener shrugged. “Both obviously. Vee probably wants a break as much as their sister, so wouldn’t be fair to give one a break and not the other.”

“You’re not sending Vee to the NSMP, right?” Grifter asked, trying not to have any worry in his voice, and if there was, he quickly tried covering it up. “I mean, I haven’t gotten everything over there fixed. They’re all still used to how Nightmare ran it. And I haven’t gotten around one of the things he put in there.”

The Listener chuckled. “No! Of course not. If I could keep Astrid from wanting to visit, I would. I mean, it sounds like you’d like her to come over for Grian. I could try keeping her out if you want but-”

Grifter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, rebellious teen who’s also got magic. Been there, done that. Speaking of, how long have they been training?”

The Listener perked up at that. “Astrid’s been going for one year and twelve days, and yesterday was Vee’s mark for one year. I got each of them a present of course since it’s pretty much like a birthday and all.”

“Well then, if that’s the case, I think I have a little present for them as well. In the middle of everything yesterday, a Watcher was having a one year party.”

.

.

.

Though Grian found it easiest to learn and use a sword for pretty obvious reasons. Instead, he kept an axe out. Apparently it could be as powerful or even more dangerous than a sword to the point that a number of people used it as a preferred weapon. It was a bit heavy for him, but to be honest, all of the tools felt a bit heavy in his hands. Gym class didn’t really have the best setup for using stuff like this.

He set his axe down for a few moments to let his arms rest as he pulled out his communicator. Sense apparently needed to fix it up so it would work in this time or something. Seeing as how it was working and even looked upgraded, it looked like the man had succeeded. Grian checked his coordinates, moving it from side to side to figure out which way was which as the numbers changed in real time. He was pretty sure at this point he was very lost, since he was used to streets and maps and not open land and coordinates. The only real street was near the castle, and it didn’t even last that long until it turned into what was practically rubble.

While Grian knew he could just stay in the castle since rooms were offered, part of him wasn’t thrilled at the idea of having to be stuck with what would essentially be roommates again. Especially if he could live elsewhere without having to pay rent. He would have to build his own place and gather the materials for it himself, but he had been interested in architecture and was thinking about going to college for it, and it seemed like it was easier to get the stuff he would need here.

He found a nice small tree to start with and pushed leaves out of the way for a good place to start chopping. When he did, Grian was surprised to find his axe chopping through the wood like it was warm butter, taking a chunk out of it in two swings. After that, he nearly fell over in surprise when he realized the tree was still standing, but after getting back up and feeling the tree to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, Grian could feel a hint of magic there, keeping the tree floating in the air.

Not wanting to leave it there, Grian started to tear down the rest of the tree, glad to see that the leaves were falling on their own since he didn’t want to deal with them too. Since one tree had been easy enough, Grian started on another, and then another. He took breaks between every few trees, not used to the amount of work even if the axe made it easy. But he was too busy during those breaks to catch the fiery orange color darting about in the shadows.

As Grian began to chop down another tree, he was stopped again as he was tackled from the side. In a panic, he swung his axe wildly, managing to hit whatever was attacking him by the sounds they made, but couldn’t be completely sure because he had his eyes closed. Finally, something grabbed his axe and yanked it away, pinning his arms down before he could grab anything else.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” A voice hissed from above him, and Grian nervously opened his eyes. He immediately focused on the person’s ears, which were definitely not human, but he sighed as he realized they didn’t belong to a rabbit. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to amuse the hybrid as they let go of his one arm and instead pressed their forearm against his neck. “What are you? A hunter?!”

Grian quickly shook his head. He would say something, but talking was pretty hard when being choked. He saw a tree out of the corner of his eye and then looked back and forth between the tree and the hybrid, hoping they would understand what he meant. While it seemed like they didn’t, they at least eased up on his neck, letting him breathe better and speak. “I was just getting supplies.” He wheezed out, taking a break to catch his breath. “Grifter said-”

“Grifter?” The hybrid asked in surprise, then let Grian go for a moment before grabbing him again. “Wait, explain why you look so much like him. How do I know you’re not lying about him. Are you even on his good side?”

“We’re relat-” Was all Grian got out before the arm was against his neck again. “Right, sure you are. How come I haven’t heard of you before? I mean, I know my family pretty well.”

Grian wracked his brain for some way, any way to get this person to leave him alone. He at the very least had access to one hand, since the arm trapping it before was now on his neck, but he had no way of knowing if the person would understand him. He used his pointer finger to point to the side, then crossed his fingers, put his hands into a fist with his pinky out, then a fist with his thumb to the side, then finally put his thumb between his middle and ring fingers while it was in a fist. He repeated that a few times before the arm on his neck pulled back slightly

“Gry-an?” The hybrid asked, and Grian winced, but nodded, pointing to himself. “Alright, and what about Grifter? Who is he to you?” And he was glad his arm was left free. He pointed to himself again, then brushed the side of his cheek twice with the back of his hand, then had his hand go forward, palm down. “Or really? Then where are your wings?” And grian shook his hand like he slammed it in something. “Oh.”

Finally the hybrid moved away, freeing Grian from the ground. He rubbed his neck, coughing a little. “I see what he said about me needing to train…”

“So Gryan, what are you doing around my place?” The hybrid asked, standing up, not offering a hand to Grian.

“It’s Grian, and I was just trying to gather supplies. Grifter said I could stay in the castle, but to be honest, I’d like a place of my own. I went looking and found this place, so I was going to collect some wood. I didn’t realize this place belonged to you. But I’m glad you know BSL.”

The hybrid raised an eyebrow. “BSL? You mean sign language?”

“Uh, yeah. Your accent didn’t quite sound British, so I was worried you might have used ASL, or something else.”

“What’s the difference?”

“A lot. There’s also the two handed alphabet, and I'm pretty sure the sign for future is different if hurt isn’t.” Grian explained, finally pushing himself up to his feet.

“I just used what I was taught by my Grandma.” the hybrid shrugged. “She said something like it was bonzel? Or something like that.”

“BANZSL?” Grian said, fingerspelling it at the same time. “I mean, essentially the same thing. It’s just easier to say BSL.”

“I don’t understand anything you just said, I just know I understand the way your hands move.”

“Good enough.” Grian nodded. “So, your forest? I guess I cut down too many trees, huh?”

The hybrid shook their head. “Pfft, no. I can just replant them. You were just in what I think of as my place, and I’m not a fan of unfamiliar people showing up.”

“And Grifter is… is he allowed or not?”

“Oh he’s definitely allowed.” The hybrid smiled. “Coolest uncle around and now the admin, why wouldn’t I want him hanging at my place?”

“Cool.” Grian smiled, but then his eyes widened. “Wait so I’m an uncle?!”

The hybrid shrugged. “I dunno. You’re from the past, right? I doubt I’m born yet for you- how old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“What the fuck, I’m older than you!” The hybrid exclaimed “Sort of. Long story. Short version is the old admin was a bitch.”

“So, does that mean you were born at that point?”

They rubbed their chin. “No, not yet. I’m trying to remember how old I was and how old dad was when I was adopted.”

“Oh, you were adopted?”

“I think. It’s easier than saying my real dad ran out on my mom and then she dated and married this new guy who’s now my dad.”

“Yeah, that does sound easier.”

“So, I don’t think I gave my name. I’m Fleur.”

Grian smiled and shook their hand. “Nice to meet you.”

.

.

.

Mumbo wanted to find Grian and leave right now. He was pretty sure the others thought the same, but right now they were all split up. They had started to explore before EX had caught up to them. Before he could say why, they were soon attacked by a creeper hybrid going by the name Euro. Mumbo could tell it was obviously the same one that was Techno’s Hels version based on the way they fought, managing to go hand to hand with the piglin hybrid.

Even with that, Euro had been strong enough to keep them split up, and now Mumbo was worried about Grian and Grum. He was especially worried from the fact that they had been there for about a day and he hadn’t seen any sign of Grian or his hels copy. It also didn’t help that the mobs here seemed to be more powerful than the ones on hermitcraft, which caused even more problems. Even in the day, he was getting trouble from zombies and skeletons that were wearing helmets, protecting them from the sun.

An arrow nearly hit Mumbo, breaking him out of his thoughts and making him start to run so he could find new cover. He barely got a shield up in time to block an arrow before he dove into a cave and pulled out a spare redstone torch for some semblance of light. The redstoner backed up, hoping for a bit more cover, but then he bumped into something that was unmistakably someone else. He was about to scream, but then his mouth was covered by a hand, so he struggled instead.

“Calm down, it’s just me!” A voice spoke that was just a little too cheerful for the situation they were in. Mumbo stopped struggling and was let go, able to turn around and see Wilbur was in the cave with him.

“Oh thank goodness. I was worried I wasn’t going to find anyone else.” He looked Wilbur over. “How are you doing?”

“Well, once you’ve died once, the fear of dying again isn’t that bad, especially since we get respawns here.” Wilbur replied, not as chipper as before.

“Yes, but that’s only with respawn anchors, and last I checked, we weren’t linked up to any of those. And if we are, we don’t know where it is and if it's broken or not.”

“Hmm, that’s true.” Wilbur replied, tilting his head slightly in thought. “Well, I’m sure there’s something for if you die and don’t have one yet. I’m sure they wouldn’t make it that easy to actually die.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Mumbo conceded. “But we should still be careful.”

The pair prepared themselves to move out of the cave and get through the landscape, not as worried now that neither of them were completely alone. They were just about to leave when Wilbur grabbed Mumbo’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Wait, there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“What was that?” Mumbo asked, turning back to look at the other man, who seemed to currently be struggling with trying to remember. He remembered at the party hearing mention that Wilbur had still been struggling with his memory after officially being revived, so Mumbo was patient with the man.

“Techno… he mentioned something about when Grifter was in the Dream SMP. About Euro.”

“I think I remember overhearing a tad bit of that when you were both over for Grum’s party.” Mumbo replied. “Something about Grifter talking about his family.”

Wilbur nodded. “Yeah, it was… That’s what it was!” And he smiled, finally remembering, before frowning again at whatever he remembered. “That was Euro who attacked us, but from what I heard, Grifter bragged about him being some sort of coward. That seemed like the opposite of what we saw. Do you think it was a lie? Or maybe that was someone else.”

“I’m not sure.” Mumbo replied. “Maybe he was just using the element of surprise. If we see him again and attack, it could scare him.”

“You’re right, that’s probably it.” Wilbur agreed. “If we see him again, I’ll try attacking and he’ll run off, letting us look for the others.”

“You think they’re alright?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Depends on if any of them are with someone else or by themselves.”

“I guess that’s true. So, what can you tell me about the people from your world? It might help us know what to expect.”

.

.

.

Grum smiled as he cut down another zombie, getting approval from Techno. The two of them had quickly found each other again after Euro split them up, mainly since Techno stayed behind to fight the hels smp’er, and Grum hid nearby. Since then, they fortunately hadn’t run into anyone else, but the longer they went without seeing anyone at all, the more suspicious it became.

“Do you think they’re planning an ambush?” Grum suggested, making Techno shrug.

“If it were me, I’d probably try that. But this isn’t the SMP I’m used to.”

“Yeah, but it also looks like this place is still pretty dangerous. Nightmare was just as bad as Dream… and Theseus wasn’t that nice either.”

“Could also be that the rest of them are just idiots and cowards.” Techno said, hoping to lighten the mood. “They see us out here slaying monsters left and right and know not to deal with us.” That seemed to work as Grum giggled a little. “They’ve seen true terror! A pig and a child, truly a force to be reckoned with.”

They were able to keep the mood up for a bit longer, but then Grum was feeling sad again. “I really hope my dad is okay. He got really hurt last time we saw Grifter. I did too…” And his screen flickered a little.

Techno noticed Grum’s distress and picked the bot up, putting him on his shoulders and trying to ignore chat’s cooing. “Yeah, well now you’ve got me, and Phil’s around here somewhere, so we can take him on.”

“Yeah, and we also have Paul.”

“Still not sure what his deal is, but chat seems to know something about him. They’re just shouting all over each other so I can’t tell what they’re talking about other than it being him.”

Grum nodded, quiet as they walked a bit, then he leaned down and looked at Techno. “Hey, maybe we can find out. He’s supposed to be a king, right?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Techno replied. “Why?”

Grum sat back up and crossed his arms, Techno lifting his own arms up worried that Grum was about to fall off his shoulders. “It’s more of a fortunately. I’ve got extra diamonds and you can use those so I can get access to my mayoral reservoirs.”

Techno stopped walking. “You sure that’s a good idea? How do we know it’ll even work for him? Or, you know, even work for you?”

“Well,” Grum conceded. “We don’t really know. I mean, we’re in a hels dimension, so I might not be able to access anything. Or it might crash again, though I think that was just your old admin’s fault.”

“Then let’s not risk it just yet. We don’t need to know about that and if it goes wrong, it will go really wrong and leave you out of commission.” Techno explained, starting to walk again, but then immediately stopped, only moving to bend down and set Grum down on the ground and grab his weapon.

Seeing what he did, Grum grabbed his own sword, ready to attack whatever Techno noticed. For a few moments, everything was completely quiet. Then, before either of them could react, both Grum and Techno were suddenly trapped in bedrock.

.

.

.

Paul sliced through another group of mobs in the way, then helped Tommy up to the ledge he was on. Tommy had yet to even swing his sword with Paul tearing through anything in the way. At the very least he had been able to use a bow to shoot things down from afar, but Tommy prefered melee to ranged. The teen wouldn’t have been too frustrated if it weren’t also for the fact that the man was going out of his way to kill any chicken they saw as well.

“I still don’t fucking get why you keep killing chickens. Why do they matter?” Tommy asked, picking up some feathers left behind.

“All chickens are spies, or at least a good enough portion that it’s best to get rid of any you see.” Paul explained, suddenly swinging at a creeper that had snuck up on them. “They’ve been a problem for as long as I can remember. At first, I had know clue why, it was just a sort of gut feeling. Like I knew when I didn’t actually know.”

“Alright, and so you just took it as fact?” Tommy asked, rolling his eyes.

“Not, of course not.” Paul replied. “I mean, only dumb people would do that, and there’s three types of people in this world, those who can do math, and those who can’t.”

“Bitch that’s two types of people.”

Paul sighed and looked back at Tommy. “Yeah, that’s the joke.”

“Oh…”

“Anyway, one time I found one messing with my things. I thought it was just a fluke until it happened again. At this point, I was already in the show biz a bit, so I played along. I trapped the chicken and then started jokingly interrogating it. When it actually started writing its chicken scratch on a sign, I thought I was going crazy at first.”

“So, it was actually a spy?” Tommy asked, not fully believing him.

“Yeah, it was. And from there things started unravelling until I finally met Punch.”

Tommy frowned. “And Punch is your hels version?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah.” Paul affirmed. “Pablo Punchwood, god of unwilling death. Most people think of ravens, crows and vultures as birds signalling death, but chickens can be ruthless. Whoever thought of calling cowards chickens did not meet a real chicken.”

“Really? What harm could they do?” But Paul didn’t answer Tommy verbally. Instead, he pulled out a book bound with black leather and opened it, following along with a page. A moment later, a rift of a sort of camo green color opened in the air next to the pair, and Paul reached his hand in, pulling out what looked like a dead mouse. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Think of it like a sort of multiworld enderchest.” Paul explained, though still not answering Tommy’s question about the chicken. When they next encountered some monsters, Paul had them take a more covert route, hiding instead of fighting.  Finally, they reached a pair of chickens while the pair of them crouched in the grass. Paul pulled the rat out again, then bit at the inside of his cheek a bit before using the blood from the wound he caused to put blood on the rat.

Tommy watched as the man then threw the animal towards the chickens, surprised by how quietly it went through the air. Then it landed and caught the attention of the chickens, who then started pecking at the creature. After a few seconds, Tommy looked away, not able to stomach what he saw.

“So, that’s chickens for you. Anything about that size that’s injured, and they’ll tear it to shreds. Sometimes there are even chickens that are confident enough to go after people, but bluckers are the ones you need to look out for. They really like to bite.”

“So chickens have been dangerous spies this entire time?!” Tommy asked as they started to move, looking back to see only the bones of the rat were left behind.

“Sure have been. It’s part of why avians are a class all of their own when talking about hybrids.” Paul explained, getting them through another rough patch of monsters. “See, ages ago, there were dinosaurs, and those eventually found their way to being various birds. Technically, there’s a longer explanation, but that’s all you really need to know right now.”

“So avian hybrid people are technically part dinosaur?” Tommy asked, surprised.

“Sort of. See, when you get into the nitty gritty of it all, part of the reason avians are called that and not bird hybrids is because of the fact that they tend to be more shifter than hybrid.”

“More what?”

“Shifter. There’s different classes of what most people generally call hybrids. There’s standard humans, hybrids, shifters, and naturals. Of course, technically humans count as naturals, but the categories were made by a human so it’s a bit of prejudice there.”

“Can you fucking cut to the chase?” Tommy asked, not wanting a lecture.

“Sure.” Paul shrugged. “Punchwood is my evil version, he’s got a thing with chickens, even though he should be staying in this dimension, he’s messed with things, avians are some sort of descendant deity now, and that makes categorizing them odd.”

Tommy was completely silent for a few moments, even stopping in place as Paul continued walking. Then, he came to his senses and ran to catch up. “What the fuck? None of that made any sense! Where do dinosaurs come into that? Why the fuck are there avians here then if he’s hels? Why isn’t it just fucking chickens then?”

Tommy didn’t have a chance to answer as suddenly Paul dodged an attack. Tommy himself barely pushed away, just in time to dodge an attack from a woman wielding a pink axe. He swung his netherite sword at the woman, which hit the blade of her axe, sending sparks into the air. “Hey! Are you going to help me fight or what?”

With those words, Paul attacked the woman as well, looking much sloppier than he had fighting the monsters. Though Tommy couldn’t do much about that right then, he still filed it away for later. After they dealt with whoever this was.

.

.

.

Doc tried to hold back another hiss. When he first ended up finding Phil, he was just glad to have someone else on his side. The monsters were a slight hassle, but between the two of them, they were getting through them well. So well that they actually had enough time to just walk and chat. Doc was even the one to suggest Phil come up with a topic to talk about. And he decided to ask about Doc’s interaction with gods.

Though the hybrid wanted to yell at Phil, he knew that was more the fault of Theseus, Paul and himself for opening things up to that conversation. So reluctantly Doc answered the questions Phil had.

“So why are you just calling it the Perd now?”

Doc rolled his eye a little. “Yeah. Easier to mishear and harder to search for. It’s not like we really want anyone releasing Notch into the world again.”

“Why would anyone want to let him out?” Phil asked incredulously. “He was a tyrant god. People were looking for a way to trap him for years.”

“Yeah, people were, but other people continued to worship him before and even after he was finally imprisoned. God apples being called that is still a recent change.” They paused the conversation to deal with some mobs before Doc continued the answer. “Not everyone is so long lived to remember those days. Heck, some people think Herobrine’s still not a nice dude because of that old propaganda that always got put out. I mean, he can be violent if need be, but you saw how tame he tends to be.”

“I have?”

“That’s Joe. The guy hanging with Cleo and wearing glasses. Eret’s dad.”

“Really? Wouldn’t have guessed.” Phil replied, and Doc was glad for the slightly lighter subject. But that took both of them off guard, meaning neither of them was ready when they were suddenly attacked by an enderman.

Phil was the first one attacked, the monster sending him a few meters back with the amount of force behind the attack. It swung at Doc next, hitting his right arm and leaving a dent in the prosthetic. When it tried to swing at Doc again, Phil had jumped back to his feet and swung his axe, the blade hitting the monster and making them teleport a few blocks away.

With the short break in fighting, Phil and Doc were able to get a good look at their foe. The enderman stood there, slouched over a bit, yet still taller than a regular enderman. Their normally small paw like hands were now large enough that Doc was pretty sure just one could wrap around his head, and that wasn’t counting that the monster had four arms instead of just two.

The last things of note was the fact that half of the enderman was a pale lavender instead of being all black, and they were also wearing a hawaiian shirt of all things. But that was enough for Phil to realize that they were dealing with Ranboo’s hels version.

.

.

.

Xisuma sighed as he got back to his feet. While he was glad to not have ended up completely alone in an unfamiliar world and dimension, he wasn’t the biggest fan of having only found his brother. X had tried a casual discussion, but EX always found a way to turn it into a fight.

And that also didn’t mention the trouble they were already having from mobs. Xisuma was defending the both of them while his brother refused to help, leaving the monsters with the upper hand. Xisuma could usually keep his cool fairly well, but at this point, Xannes was starting to get on his nerves.

“Could you move faster? You’re slowing us down.” EX said, making his point by walking faster than he was before.

“We would be making more progress if you were fighting the monsters instead of me.” Xisuma grumbled, making his point by shooting a nearby spider.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me getting in the way.” EX replied smugly. “I’m sure you’d rather ban me again than have me sticking around. Who knows, maybe it would stick this time.”

“At this point, it would probably help.” Xisuma replied, though under his breath, not wanting his brother to hear him, then spoke in a more audible tone. “I’m sure you’d find a way around it.”

Xannes just chuckled, slowing down and finally letting Xisuma catch up again before tripping the admin with a laugh. Xisuma looked up in frustration at his brother before just lying on the ground for a moment to calm down, not wanting to fight back. And then Xisuma was suddenly dragged back with a yell as something grabbed his ankle.

Xannes turned around to see why X had yelled, only to find a trail in the ground and his brother missing. “What? Oh, ha ha. Very funny, brother. I’m sure even with my setbacks, us sticking together is still a better option.” He was quiet, waiting for a response, but none came. “Oh alright, I’ll be a bit nicer. Just come back.” But there was still no answer.

Now more worried, EX took his sword out, the blade a tad shaky in his hands. “Brother, I get your point now. My little jokes aren’t actually funny. Is that what you want right now?” Yet again, there was still no answer, except this time, there was the snap of a branch or something in the nearby area, leaving Xannes whirling around, weapon at the ready. “Br-Xisuma! Where are you?! Stop messing around!”

All that happened was another sound from nearby, making Xannes flinch, but with few other options he moved towards it. He needed to push through a bit of foliage, but then he finally saw his brother. The admin was tied up and hanging upside down, a very tall person standing next to him in a light blue cloak with gold accents, two pairs of wings on their back and a golden circlet on their head over the hood of their cloak.

Xannes crept forward, trying to make as little noise as possible. His eyes connected with Xisuma’s, who was trying to signal something, but the hels admin couldn't piece it out in time. Xannes looked back at the figure, only to see them turning back towards him. He tried to hide again, only to have his shoulder grabbed at the last moment and be yanked back.

EX got a glimpse of the person’s face, them similar enough to the demon from the DSMP that he made the connection. “Oh, and I can get a matching set out of this.”

Xannes kicked at the angel demon thing. “Let go of me you bastard! Or I promise you will regret it!”

“Oh, is that so?” They asked, tilting their head. “Well, I guess you’ll have to show me.” And they started to tie Xannes up as well.

When he was hanging next to Xisuma, the admin wriggled a bit to turn himself towards Xannes. “Why didn’t you do anything? I’m sure lightning could take down even an angel.” But Xannes just grumbled. “Look, I can’t get us out of this one, you can’t make me do everything.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Why? I’m not an admin here. I can only get us in and out of worlds, and at the very least I need to stay for the others. I can’t do anything to get us out, so you have to instead.”

“Well sure! Let me just, I don’t know, pull up my kill aura to attack him, hmm? Oh wait, I-”

And then Xannes stopped talking as suddenly the angel was attacked by an invisible force. The pair of admins watched as their captor was attacked until they finally died from damage, and a few moments later, Xannes and Xisuma were both freed from their bindings. “Took you long enough.”

Xannes picked himself off the ground. “That wasn’t you?”

“I told you I can’t do anything since I’m not the admin here. You were the one just talking about kill auras.”

“Well… I can’t actually… access any of my hacks here.” Xannes hesitantly admitted. “And I never got to go to any of the fancy schools you got to go to, so I’m always relying on them for combat.”

“You’re saying you can’t actually fight? Is that why you weren’t helping?” Xisuma asked, taking his brother crossing his arms and looking away as a yes. “Well, we have ample time while making our way through this world looking through the others. I’m sure active experience would help.”

“I don’t want your help.” Xannes replied defensively. He started to walk off in a huff, then paused, looking back. “Why not pretend to teach your viewers or whatever you record things for? Pretend like you’re doing something useful.”

Xisuma chuckled and followed behind his brother. That was probably the best he was going to get from EX, but it was better than nothing. The two of them continued through the world, Xisuma defending against monsters they encountered. And if there were a few less, the pair didn’t notice, just as they didn’t notice the person in a frowning mask following behind them.

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - three

New Beginnings

Timeline: Takes place a few years after the events of Breaking Dawn

Pairing: Paul Lahote x OC (Tallulah is 18)

Warnings (future chapters): Drugs/Alcohol, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Jealousy, Mental Health, (Mentions of SA, but no details)

She was like the moon -- part of her is always hidden away

Tallulah looked to the boy in front of her, up close, in much better light than she had first seen him in, he looks older, worn and tired. Like he hasn't slept well in days. “I’m aware of who you are.” she stated in a matter of fact tone, and she watches as the smirk returns to his face. Great, an inflated ego, she thought. Tallulah is overly aware that his eyes are on her, like he's trying to read her uninterested expression. “I didn’t know Joseph had a third daughter,” he spoked tentatively, as if he would cause her to bolt if he said something wrong. She nodded her head in response, of course nobody knew. “Yeah, I’m the best kept family secret there ever was,” she eased out with a breathy laugh, “I didn’t mean it like that” he backtracked quickly, “I’ve just never seen you around the rez before”

Tallulah nodded her head in understanding, “my mom hates it here so she never brought me.” she stated before turning her body back towards the bar, hoping he’d get the hint that this was not what she wanted to be talking about. The next question out of his mouth being ‘why’, clearly meant he did not know how to read a room, causing her to turn her entire body back towards him, her face level with his as he was leaning against the counter, eyes looking into hers, as she venomously spoke, “because it's a giant reminder that her ex husband spent two years of their marriage being in love with another woman before leaving her to care for a child by herself while he lived happily ever after.” The look of shock on Paul's face didn’t surprise Tallulah in the slightest.

The waitress had dropped off both of their drinks and as she was about to open her mouth to drop another heated sentence she felt a petite arm wrap around her own, and a raspy feminie voice greeted Paul, to which he nodded in acknowledgment, barely taking his eyes off of Tallulah, “Sorry, Paul, but I need to steal my sister for a moment,”. Tallulah was now looking at the tall, raven haired girl beside her. Lenna.

Now she was confused, as the younger of the two pulled her away from the counter, drink in hand, back to the table where Josie was now sitting beside herself. Lenna sat down beside her twin, across from Tallulah, a look of exasperation was evident on Lenna's face, whereas Josie had an apologetic one.

Before she could even ask what had just happened, Lenna was speaking in a heated tone, “you need to stay away from him,” she started, “he’s got a girlfriend,” before she could defend herself from what felt like an attack, Josie piped in, “They’re back together?” she asked in a shocked tone, to which her twin nodded her head furiously. “What does any of whatever you're talking about have to do with me?” she asked, eyebrow raised, Tallulah crossed her arms as she leaned back in her seat. “This has everything to do with you!” Lenna exclaimed, “You’re the shiny new toy here, doesn’t help that you're hot either. And Paul Lahote is dating Rachel Black, happily, might I add, and when they aren’t together, she's not happy and when she's not happy, I’m not happy!” she rambled, Tallulah looked to Josie for clarification, “What Lenna is trying to say is that Rachelis her boss and she is not easy to work for when she doesn’t get what she wants. And for as long as we can remember, Paul was the source of that stress. They’ve been on and off since they were 16.” Josie clarified, with Lenna adding, “Plus, dad has a rule about dating older guys, and he does not fit the qualifications, even for you.” she stated before picking at her perfectly manicured hands.

“Well, no need to stress. I’m not a homewrecker.” Tallulah stated matter of factly. “ Besides, he’s not my type anyways” Not that Tallulah had a type really, anyone who didn’t want her commitment and could make her feel something other than numb, was good enough for her.

The three girls stayed at the cafe until it was nearly dark. The twins carried the conversation, with Tallulah nodding her head and giving one word answers whenever it was needed. She didn’t particularly care for the topics in which they were being brought up, like who broke up or who’s not friends anymore. In such a small area she figured this was typical considering everyone knew everyone here. She didn’t even want to think about what people might be saying about her. After awhile, Lenna had to get to work and Josie had received a text from Kira of when dinner would be, to which Tallulah thought was odd, her and her mother never ate dinner together as a family. Either her mother was at work or she was out with friends, being left up to her own devices. So when Josie and Tallulah walked through the front door of their home to the smell of a home cooked meal, she felt a tinge of jealousy. The twins were living the life she had dreamt of as a child, a mother who cooked, a dad that was present in their lives, family dinners where they could talk about their days, the good and the bad. A family that made memories together, rather than apart.

The two girls kicked off the shoes and before making their way to the dining room table, Tallulah felt awkward, she didn’t want to sit in someone else's seat, so, she let Josie sit in her usual spot before sitting down, Kira and her dad sat at the ends of the table. They all jumped right in, grabbing and passing food to each other as if Tallulah had been there for years.

As they ate, Kira asked how her first full day in La Push was, she shrugged her shoulders, before stating, “it was alright. Met some people who seemed to already know who I was.” This caused her father and Kira to laugh, as Tallulah took another bite while her dad asked, “catch any names?”, before she could even answer, Josie was answering for her, “She met Paul today, seemed like they really hit it off.” Tallulah couldn't stop the glare that adorned her face, for someone who had essentially told her their dad didn’t like him, she was really throwing her in front of a bus.

She looked at her dad, trying to gauge a reaction from him but he was looking at Kira, the two of them silently communicating from across the table, before saying, “I don’t know if that's someone you’d want as a friend.He’s quite older than you, Tal, nearly 27.” to which she shrugged off, saying, “he was just asking if i was your daughter. Not a lot of people knew you had three before yesterday.” No longer having an appetite, she dropped her fork onto her plate, “and not that it's anyone's business, but I can make my own friends, older or younger. Thank you for dinner, Kira.” she said trying to contain her anger before standing up and tucking her chair in. She grabbed her plate and brought it into the kitchen, the anger that has been stirring since the day before coming back out as she tried to calm herself before it came back to bite her. She tossed her food and placed her plate in the dishwasher before walking up to her room and shutting the door gently, she turned towards her bed noticing a black book bag with a folded slip of paper on it. Picking it up and opening, she recognized it as a schedule, reading it over, she noticed she had more independent study periods than actual classes. Written in pen below the timetable there was a note, stating, “exempt from AP Literature, Biology III and Calculus”, which were all classes she had taken in the first semester of her old school. She let out a breath of relief at the thought of not taking them again. Shoving the paper in her bag, before dropping it at the foot of her bed. She grabbed a book out of one of her unpacked duffels that her mother must have packed for her, before laying on her bed to read.

-

At some point she must have dozed off, the room was dark but the moonlight illuminated from the window. Tallulah got up and stretched her back from the odd position she had fallen asleep, before stripping out of her jeans in favour of comfy shorts and a baggy t-shirt. She made her way into the hall to use the bathroom she shared with the twins, as well as to brush her teeth. From the bathroom she could hear the muffled voices of Jira and her dad, ‘he’s too old for her’ ‘this could be good for her’ ‘or it could push her further away’ ‘you and i both know that wont happen’, it didn’t take a genius to realize who they were talking about, and she wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest because in her mind, if they never assert their problems with her, then they can never be mad. How can she go against them if she didn’t know what she was doing wasn’t allowed?

She left the bathroom after dousing her face with water and patting it dry to see Josie waiting outside, Tallulah rolled her eyes before brushing past her, not listening to her apologies, she didn’t care if Josie was a snitch. She's just happy she found out sooner, rather than later.

[my-strange-attraction]

What being a loveless aro means to me

I didn’t really know if I was going to acknowledge Arospec Awareness Week on this blog just because I talked so much about the aspec communities during Asexual Awareness Week and college is kinda busy right now but I came across a few posts talking about loveless aros and figured I’d write my own story down because I’ve only really acknowledged my loveless aro identity in passing in the tags of posts on here before. God that was all one sentence. Ok, without further adieu, I’m just going to get into what will probably be yet another essay post. If you’re following me these are just a given by now haha.

If you told me even just a year ago that I would call myself not only aro but a loveless aro, I would’ve laughed in your face. I had to work myself up to using all of the terms that I use for myself now by convincing myself that if I didn’t feel love in one way surely I could still feel it in another. I called myself ace because there was still a shot at romance, and I called myself aro after hearing about qprs because I could still enter a loving partnership, and I’ve eventually worked myself up to using the labels of “non-partnering” and “loveless.”

Love is confusing. It’s definitely not to be confused with attraction or affection because as I’ve said on here many times before, I have very strong platonic inclinations, perhaps more so than most people. But love and strong emotional bonds have always been tricky for me, even though I read all about them in books and the relationships between characters is my favorite thing to explore in media and really by all means I should not be as confused by it as I am.

The only people I’ve never had trouble saying I love are my mom and my little sister. My dad and I have a complicated relationship and my older brother feels distant even though over the years we’ve grown closer. Even from a young age, I had trouble saying out loud that I love my dad, not because I don’t care about him but because that’s just how our relationship evolved--we’ve never been particularly affectionate with each other and we even had a running joke when I was younger that I “sorta kinda liked” him. My mom was always vocal with her love for us children and my sister was my best friend growing up. We had spats but we shared a bedroom and we loved playing together and we always made up by the morning because that’s just how we were. 

Yet sometimes now I feel like the word “love” is weird coming out of my mouth. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it fits the situation, but most of the time it feels too loaded, and I operate better in situations where it feels more casual like saying goodbye in the morning or ending a call or that time in freshman year of high school where I was best friends with a girl who gave out “I love you”s to all her friends all the time. It’s better, I guess, when it feels more like routine than actual sentiment. When I end the rare FaceTime call with my best friend from childhood and she says “love you” I pretend I didn’t hear or I say it really quick. This is not routine. I’m not used to it. And we only talk every once in a while anyways.

I always feel really weird at the beginning of friendships too. Usually I don’t notice a friendship forming until the person in question has been talking to me for a while or until they call me their friend and I realize oh that’s happening. I also have trouble really opening up to people and feeling like I truly connect with them and that they truly know me. I have a strange thing about me where every once in a while I’ll make a friend and they start calling me their best friend before I even think of them as a close friend. This happened more in elementary and middle school but it’s very strange to me. Maybe it’s just my consistency or that I’m a good listener. I don’t really know, it just happens.

That, and when I do have a close friendship, people always assume that a) we’re related (when I was young, mostly, people always though my friends were my sister or something) or b) that we’re lesbians in gay love with each other (because I usually only make friends with girls idek). The way I have friendships is really intense for other people but I don’t really know why because for me it just feels like a friendship. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s sharing interests and passing the time together so we’re not lonely. My friends are amazing, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t feel that same level of emotional connection that allows me to say I love my mom and sister without cringing.

This has gotten very rambly so I’m going to wrap it up, but in conclusion, I’ve realized over the past few months that my relationship with love is and has always been fraught, even before I identified as aro, and even in a non-romantic context. Calling myself loveless is freeing in a way, because it gives me a community and tells me I’m not a weirdo for being squeamish about the word “love” the way I am. I love love, and I love romance, and I love found family and all that stuff--I just don’t love it for me and that’s ok. Here’s to the green heart emoji 💚

[omorial]

AUSTISTIC SUNNY FIC AUSTISTIC SUNNY FIC AUSTISTIC SUNNY FIC AUSTISTIC SUNNY FIC AUSTISTIC SUNNY FIC AUSTISTIC SUNNY FIC A

Just a note- I'm not autistic! I did this based on my own research and what I've learned from friends. I had someone read over it to make sure it wasn't being insensitive, so I hope anyone who reads likes this!

- Mod Zale

Mari loved her little brother!

Sunny was the light of her life, the center of it, and she cared about him so much. Even the things that some people might consider weird, or be mean about. Because those things made Sunny Sunny, and people who were mean about it were just bullies.

Like how he didn't talk much. People were mean about it, but Sunny just didn't like to talk, and who cares? He can still communicate, and it makes him happy! As long as he's comfortable, it didn't matter if he talked.

He also wore the same thing a lot, but that's just because it made him comfortable. Routine helped him, and if it helped, it was fine. Having a signature outfit was cool, too! Like you were a cartoon character!

He had favorite foods, too! Like steak! That was one of his favorites. He says some foods bother him and make him feel icky, so they don't make him eat those, because he should eat what makes him feel good! Eating is supposed to be fun!

As long as Sunny was happy, it didn't matter if he did things other people thought was weird. Those things made Sunny Sunny, and she loved him for him.

•••

Kel was excited!!

Hero said they had new neighbors, and he was finally taking Kel to meet them!! Hero said he hadn't taken him yet because they needed time to adjust, which was kind of weird, but whatever. He could make a new friend!

"Calm down, Kel, he hasn't met anyone else in town yet and his sister said he's nervous." Kel looked at Hero, pouting. Hero bent down, looking at Kel. "Also, I was told he doesn't like to talk much. So be nice to him, okay?"

Kel nodded. "Yeah! I'm super nice!"

Hero laughed again and Kel stuck his tongue out at him as he stood up.

He bounced in place as he waited for someone to answer the door, excited to meet someone new.

"Hey, Mari." Hero said, and Kel looked at the girl who answered the door. She must be the big sister! "This is my brother, Kel. How're you all settling in?"

"We're settling in well, Hero, thanks for asking." Mari turned to Kel, and he beamed up at her. "Hello, Kel! You should meet my little brother, Sunny! He's in our room upstairs right now, the door on the left, you can go up there if you want!"

"Hi!! Okay, cool! Nice to meet you!" Kel rushed out a response before sprinting into the house, giggles from Hero and Mari following him.

Kel rushed upstairs, almost tripping in his excitement. He made his way to the door he'd been directed to, barely remembering to knock before opening the door.

There was a boy sitting on one of the beds, probably Sunny, with short black hair. He was fidgeting with something, and didn't seem to notice that Kel was there. 

Kel knocked on the doorframe before walking into the room, waving slightly. "Uh, hi? Sunny, right?"

He still didn't seem to react so Kel walked further into the room, trying to get his attention. He walked up to the bed, and Sunny still didn't seem to register he was there. Kel bounced in place little before deciding to tap Sunny on the shoulder.

Sunny startled a little, looking up. 

Kel smiled sheepishly and waved again. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Uh- I'm Kel! I'm Hero's brother, you've met Hero right?"

Sunny looked at him for a second, before nodding. He grabbed a notebook off the nightstand beside the bed and Kel moved a little so he could see it better.

'I'm Sunny. Nice to meet you.'

"Hi Sunny! Uh-" Kel glanced around, eyes catching on the cube thing the other boy had been fidgeting with. "What's that?"

Sunny fidgeted with the pencil he was holding for a second before replying. 'It's a Rubix Cube. You have to solve the puzzle by getting the same color on all sides.'

"Oh, that's cool!" Kel looked around to see more things that looked akin to Rubix Cubes on one of the shelves set up in the room. "Do you collect them?"

Sunny nodded.

"That's so cool! Can you show me how to solve one?"

Sunny's eyes widened slightly and he nodded, moving some so Kel could sit beside him. Kel beamed.

•••

School had started, and Kel was excited because he and Sunny were in the same class. Sunny was fun, and liked talking to him, and he knew so much cool stuff! He was such a cool friend!!

Sunny seemed nervous, so Kel tried to send him silent support any way he could. He seemed to appreciate it, so it was a success!

It was lunch, and the two of them had sat down at a table. They'd both brought lunch, so they didn't have to wait in line! 

Kel started eating but stopped when he looked at Sunny, who was frowning at his food.

"Sunny? You okay?"

'... Fine. Mom just gave me Mari's lunch instead of mine.'

"Oh." Kel glanced at the pasta Mari took for lunch, then back to his pb&j sandwich, tilting his head. "Want mine? It's just a pb&j."

Sunny frowned more. 'Are you sure?'

"Totally, bud! You can have it, I don't mind."

They switched food and the issue was averted, lunch going smoothly after that.

•••

Basil fidgeted with his bag, looking nervously at the friends Aubrey was introducing him to. It wasn't that he didn't think they'd be nice! He trusted Aubrey! It's just- he was nervous.

The boy in orange- Kel, right? -smiled before speaking. "Hey Basil! Nice to meetcha! I like your bag, the flowers are cool!"

Basil flushed, stuttering out a thank-you as the two older kids- Mari and Hero -said hi as well.

The last one, Sunny, waved a little. He was wearing short sleeves, which confused Basil because it was kind of cold out.

Sunny held out a notebook in front of him, and his eyes widened as he took it.

'I don't like wearing long sleeves a lot. It feels weird.'

"Oh!" Basil gripped his bag, handing the notebook back to Sunny. "Sorry it was obvious I was wondering! I- I didn't mean to be rude."

Sunny put the notebook in front of him again, and he read it.

'It's alright, I don't mind. It's nice to meet you. Flowers are pretty cool.'

Basil looked at Sunny, eyes wide. 

"Uh- okay. Thanks! Your notebook is pretty cool." Basil looked at the drawings on the cover. "Did you decorate it yourself?"

Sunny nodded.

"That's so cool! You must be really good at art."

Sunny wrote something down and Basil read it.

'Um- I guess. Thanks, though. It's fun.'

Basil smiled a little. This was seeming okay.

•••

Sunny closed the door to the bathroom, pulling at his hair. His eyes stung.

His wrist, his fingers, everything hurt. He couldn't do this- it hurt.

He wiped at his eyes, sliding down against the door as he tried to calm down. It just- it was too much. Mari was pushing him too much. It hurt.

He pulled at his hair again, trying to hold back his frustrations as the crying got worse.

He didn't want to play the violin anymore.

It hurt.

•••

Sunny had collections.

He had, rubix cubes, and stuffed animals, and he had so many of them.

It was fun. It gave him something to focus on. And he liked them.

The stuffed animals were comforting, and soft. The rubix cubes were fun to fidget with, and it was fun to figure out how to solve them, too.

Drawing was also fun. It was fun to do, and he could do it in bis own way, just for fun.

He could draw his friends, and draw out his frustrations, and it helped.

Collecting things helped.

[autumnslance]

I've got a writing question that's been on my mind for a while: how do you keep your OCs from becoming self inserts? Every time I think of developing an OC I realize that it's attributes that I

Oops, you got cut off! But in general: all your OCs are going to have traits of yours; it’s inevitable. Sometimes big things, sometimes small things. It’s how we relate to them, and also just natural, I promise. We write what we know, and we know how we interact with ourselves and the world.

But there is a difference between sharing some traits with a character and making them a self-insert. It’s letting their life, their community and culture, their experiences, also influence their traits and thinking, in ways that might be different from how you would respond in a similar situation. Even if you share those attributes.

This is me so let’s go behind a cut shall we?

Dark Autumn is as introverted and solitary by nature as I am; she can and does interact in professional and friendly ways with people (as I try to do), but needs alone time to recharge. However, Dark also has a very different outlook and relationship with her family than I, since her family is large and supportive, very close knit. If family is a lottery, I got the $50 scratch off prize while she hit the Mega-Millions. So I take that into account when thinking of her relationships not just with family, but with friends and potential romantic interests; Dark sees things through a lens of positive, low-drama familial relationships that I can barely fathom. This also means she has a support network and resources myself and other characters don’t, so gets some wish fulfillment of working through issues with care and grace instead of remaining in unhealthy places. She is my “comfort OC” so gets a lot of good things I wish I had—which shapes how she responds to others, like taking care of a FCmate and becoming something of a big sister figure for him, or the responsible older sister figure of my group of OCs. Which is me, really, idealizing my own older sister tendencies into this giant woman who’s better at it.

Aeryn was written to be on the ace scale; not my first character to be so, but the first written that way as I began to realize where my own orientations lie and wanting to examine that through fiction. That she fell for a certain rogue in the process of playing through MSQ again was not at all intentional. I like Thancred as a character—he hits a lot of tropes I enjoy—but in my own mindset, he’s a frustrating younger brother. I didn’t think I’d do NPC x WoL shipping. But there it is, because in determining Aeryn’s own experiences and how those shaped her, it ended up working out that way (and I spent the better part of 2 years writing the characters separately to figure that out and if it could work before writing them together because it’s not something that comes naturally to me).

Aeryn’s internal anger is something I have a difficult time with; it’s outside my own nature to carry things like that. I have my angers, certainly, but they are different from hers. I tend to need a lot to set me off and then it burns out hot and quick. Aeryn’s more of a long boil she keeps bottled up. I’ve gotten a few things through various fics, I think, but it’s why I do things like reference arguments but rarely depict them. Being non-confrontational myself (I’m meek and have hangups thanks to my own life) it’s a challenge. Aeryn responded to childhood traumas (that I never dealt with), bullying (that I did), losses (that I haven’t yet), and the responsibility she’s been given (thank goodness I don’t) far differently than I. Maybe I’d be more volatile, too, if I had her life. But I understand where her anger comes from sharing some of the reasons, I just shape it differently than my own.

There’s a lot of things about Dark and Aeryn that are accidentally similar, just due to the timing of their character generation and other RP OCs made for other games along the way; “Oh I haven’t done X or Y in a character in awhile” sort of thing, but how each approaches those similarities and why—their quietness, their issues with using magic, their tendency to “adopt” others as family—all come from different places and resolve differently, too.

C’oretta comes from a part of me that doesn’t quite want to grow up. That wishes I had been more of the peppy, active, cheerful, risk-taking, live it up stereotypical party kid, that “popular girl” archetype I felt so often on the outside looking in about. As my second character, I wanted her to be different from Dark Autumn—visually, emotionally, mentally. Where Dark is steady, C’oretta is flighty. While Dark is people oriented, C’oretta’s a bit selfish (like I often feel). Dark’s introverted, C’oretta’s extroverted. Much of C’oretta’s attitude is a deflection against the hurts in her life, a way to fight back against some terrible things. It’s a way I could never react. But I also can’t get away from a character who loves to learn and wants to try new things—but where other characters gain the ability to stick with and see them through, C’oretta gets my easy frustration and boredom, and then the “ooh shiny” of a new interest. There’s a history of ADHD (or whatever the acronyms are now) and even autism and learning issues in my family; it’s possible I have some undiagnosed ND stuff going on, and people have noted these things in C’oretta that I’ve based on my own experiences and those of people very close to me.

Many of my characters have traits I wish I had, or were better at; patience, kindness, consideration, convictions, courage, thoughtfulness, and so on and etc. They’re good at skills I haven’t the knowledge in, or the ability to do. They’re certainly more active than I am, or could be! Because I can take the time to think and plan and research and write those things out better, and just maybe along the way not only learn something myself, but try to practice it better myself. I can even sometimes let them teach me what I can possibly do or be, not just imagine it as an ideal that’s out of reach.

I try to let my characters make mistakes I wouldn’t—or in some cases, have in my past, and that’s OK. Especially if I learned from them, but maybe the character does not. Maybe they do but it takes awhile, or repeated instances until it sinks in. Maybe I let them make errors I still make, as a way to puzzle out better solutions I should probably entertain for myself.

Character voice is something I’ve felt I struggled with in keeping my OCs distinct. Do characters ‘sound’ alike, in dialogue and prose? Having distinct ways of speaking helps; C’oretta’s breathless chatty run-ons are certainly different from Dark and Aeryn’s quieter tendencies. I have to remember to trim down Aeryn’s dialogue more often, say less aloud, add more gestures and facial expressions. I tend to be a talker, an over-explainer (if you can’t tell), while the only times she gets like that are specific. Dark’s somewhere in the middle of those two, like I am. A lot of the reason I like writing NPCs and try to keep them close to my interpretation of canon is to practice distinct character voice to get better at it in my OCs, so they don’t sound like me!

And something I’ve never admitted to before is that I think for me, it helps that from the time I was a kid watching various series of Star Trek, I always have had an in-my-own-head-only self-insert. She’s always a support character (that’s what I’m best at). She has cool and unusual abilities to help the actual heroes, cuz heck it’s my internal fantasy and that’s fun. She has traits I want to be better at or wish I had, developed over time with more energy and focus than I can actually muster in reality. As time’s gone on, she’s become more of a mentor and Mom Friend as I’m now older and see a lot of protagonist characters as “my kids” now. She appears in nearly every story I’ve loved over time, in one iteration or another. And because I have a headspace character where I can say “this is what I, ideally, would say and do and be capable of in this situation…” My other characters that I actually write about can vary between doing something similar (if it suits them) to doing something completely different (cuz darn kids never listen) as I can compare them to the self-insert and decide where to diverge.

So it’s a mix of myself and my traits and knowledge, but taking into account how each character would respond and use those same attributes differently than I do or would. Write what you know, write who you are—and then add in some wish fulfillment, some what ifs, some bad choices, some good choices, and shake things up. Give the characters tics and tricks different from yourself and let that shape them, too, by remembering to take those things into account (even if you have to tape a note to your monitor).

And finally, don’t be ashamed of your self-inserts; I’ve known some great characters that started as self-inserts and grew, through their experiences, into wholly different people than their writers over time. Heck, the epic romance my original WoW priest was part of was with a character that started as a self-insert; his player began the game knowing nothing of the lore or roleplaying, but as he learned the story and how to RP, and determined how his character fit into the world and how that shaped him, the character diverged over time, while still sharing some key traits (some endearing, some frustrating, as people are and all part of that friend). It’s not a bad starting point at all. The rest can come over time and practice, especially if you make a lot of OCs and try to make them different from each other while also being aspects of yourself.