#when i’ve brought him up w my dad he’s always just like ‘from what i’ve seen he’s a proper genius - vices and all’

[franklyimissparis]

i think it’s funny how when some people talk abt alex turner’s potential drug usage it’ll either be like “he has a major drug and alcohol problem it’s so obvious!!!” or “i don’t think he’s the type to have ever even tried a hard drug” as if there isn’t a ton of middle ground between those two extremes

like the man who wrote “why’d you only ever call me when you’re high” and has been a touring musician since he was 19 has obviously fucking been high - and not just with weed - but that also doesn’t mean he’s completely off his head in every interview he’s ever done 😭😭

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter one

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: Eddie has a little brother. Eddie’s little brother has a babysitter.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. fun fact that this was one of the first Stranger Things fanfics i ever wrote. it was originally titled She Was Straight From Hell, But You Could Never Tell, and featured Eddie alongside an OC. i’ve changed it to be reader-insert, because that seems to be more in my writing wheelhouse nowadays. this fic will be multiple parts — it begins with backstory, but will eventually branch off into a universe of little smutty ficlets where Reader will corrupt virgin!Eddie as much as humanely possible.

—

Eddie hadn't known about the existence of his little brother until two months ago, when Al Munson showed up in the middle of the night with a small child in tow. Eddie didn't even know his dad was out of prison again, and yet here he was, in the flesh, a little boy with a mop of black curls resembling Eddie's own cradled in his leather jacket-clad arms.

Al was lucky Wayne was working or else this family reunion would have gone south fast.

While Wayne wasn't Al's biggest fan, Al was Eddie's dad, and Eddie would always hold onto as many moments with his father as he could get, no matter how sparse, and no matter how much of a self-serving piece of shit asshole Al Munson truly was.

But Eddie didn’t see it like that. Eddie saw it like this: His dad lived a hard life. His dad struggled with addictions. His dad lost a wife, just as Eddie had lost a mother. His dad tried his best with what he had.

Deep down, Eddie knew these were all just sorry excuses, but he kept that truth tucked away, not wanting to deal with the reality that Al truly only cared about himself.

He already had one dead parent. If he cut his dad out of his life, he’d basically have two.

"When'd you get out?" Eddie asked, stepping aside so Al could enter. His eyes followed the child, brows furrowed. The trailer was always Al's first stop on his freedom tour and the older man had always brought some sort of baggage along with him -- never a little kid, though. What the hell kind of trouble had his dad gotten into this time?

"Few days ago," Al replied, heading for the living room. He placed the sleeping child down on the worn sofa, then straightened and faced Eddie. "Listen, son, you gotta do me a favor. I'm not out long this time. I might've robbed an ATM or two last night. I'm kinda on the lam."

Al didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish at his wrongdoing.

Eddie was used to this. Even when Al was a free man, he was never a free man for long. He didn't think his dad knew how to coexist among non-inmate citizens. Eddie didn't think his dad even wanted to. Prison was a creature comfort for the elder Munson. Eddie wasn't necessarily mad at that fact. He was happy when Al was locked up, because then at least he knew where his dad was. Otherwise, Eddie worried his father would eventually get himself into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of, and Eddie would really never see him again.

Eddie was also used to Al showing up after months and months, sometimes even years and years, such as now, always asking for favors.

"Who is that?" Eddie asked, pointing towards the couch, not being able to ignore the other human in the room any longer.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I need your help with.” Al rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no way to do this other than to just say it. That there's your little brother, Eddie. His name's Oliver. And I need you and Wayne to look after him while I'm gone."

"My... what..." Eddie stammered, face scrunching up. He expected Al to burst out laughing and admit he was just fucking around, and that this tiny sleeping stranger was actually just the kid of a fellow convict buddy. Maybe it was said convict buddy’s turn to rob ATMs tonight, leaving Al the babysitter. Irresponsible. Unlikely. And, turns out, untrue.

With Al's silence, Eddie knew his dad’s admission wasn't a joke.

Eddie was beyond confused now.

"Dad, how... you've been in prison for six years!"

"Conjugal visits," Al answered with a bit of a smug shrug.

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck? Wayne can't afford another kid that's not even his... and I'm in school still, I can't watch him... this isn't... I don't know how..."

But Al was already making his way to the door.

"I know you'll figure it out. I can always count on you, my boy," Al prided, tone cheery as if the favor he'd just asked of Eddie was to give him a quick ride somewhere or find an old family recipe.

Al wasn't acting like he was ditching another Munson offspring off on his older brother. He was treating this like an issue of minor importance, just a little speed bump on an otherwise flat road.

Al Munson was not an upstanding person. Never had been, never would be. Because of this, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised or appalled, but here he was, standing with his mouth agape. Surprised. Appalled.

His dad was out the door with a lighthearted, "See ya 'round, son," and Eddie was left speechless in the middle of the living room.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne got over the new addition to the Munson household fairly quickly.

While he'd been livid at first, calling up all of Al's old friends he'd still had the numbers of to try and find out where his dumb shit of a younger brother was, Wayne eventually became resigned to the idea that he now had another little boy to rear and mold.

What else could he do?

Wayne took care of his kin, especially if they were innocent bystanders and had no say in being born in the first place. He'd raised Eddie, and although he knew the boy had his struggles, he didn't think he'd done too bad of a job.

Eddie never went hungry, always had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, and Wayne was the one who haggled Eddie's van down to a reasonable price so the boy could pay for it with his lunch box salary.

Wayne knew about the weed and the pills, but so long as Eddie stayed smart about where he was selling and who he was selling to, he didn't much mind Eddie's unconventional line of work. It helped his nephew stay somewhat social, and Wayne knew how important that would be for Eddie's future. If the boy was nothing but a lone recluse his whole life, he'd probably end up just like Al. Nobody wanted that.

Eddie was just about grown now. Sure, he was rearing twenty and still in his senior year of high school, but Wayne had an inkling that '86 would be Eddie's year.

Wayne had always thought about selling the trailer and buying an RV with retirement money once Eddie was out on his own. He wanted to travel the country for the remainder of his life.

The idea that he'd have to raise up another wild Munson for the next fifteen or so years caused a knot to form in his stomach.

Would Wayne even be around for that much longer? He may have been relatively healthy, and he was only in his mid 60's, but Wayne wasn't an idiot. He knew anything could happen at any time.

Wayne knew he needed help this time around. He figured he could count on Eddie here and there, but Eddie needed to focus on school this year if he planned on finally walking the stage. Because of this, Wayne decided to enlist the help of someone on the outside. Someone with experience.

So, he posted an ad in the Hawkins Post, looking for a full-time nanny for a five-year-old boy to start as soon as possible, and waited for a response.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne didn't have to wait long.

Two mornings following the job post, shortly after he'd returned home from work, he heard a knock on the trailer door.

When he answered, he saw a pretty young thing standing on the front stoop.

"Hi!" you greeted, then immediately began to ramble. "Are you Mr. Munson? I hope it's okay I just showed up... there wasn't a number listed, only an address, and I didn't know if you wanted me to write a response and mail it, but the ad seemed maybe a little urgent, so I thought, hey, what's the harm in just... showing... up..."

You trailed off, feeling silly for word vomiting during your first impression. He was watching you with a small smile, eyes flickering with what looked like amusement, especially as your cheeks began to color to the soft red of embarrassment.

Listing no number on the ad was intentional. He hadn't owned a rotary phone in about ten years, after having tried to cut back on bills, and he knew not just anyone would make the trek to Forest Hills for a potential job offer. He’d figured only committed applicants that wouldn't waste his time would follow through.

"I have a lot of experience," you continued on at his silence, almost as if you couldn't help it, compelled to divulge all the information you could in the first three minutes of meeting. Wayne found it endearing. "I used to babysit for three different families when I was in high school. And I have two little sisters. My mom and dad worked a lot growing up, so I spent a lot of time with them. Didn't get paid, but... I made sure they didn't die or anything..."

From their brief interaction thus far, Wayne knew he succeeded in his method of weeding out flakes. You were obviously serious about the position. He felt he was a decent judge of character, and he'd learned in life that sometimes over-explaining was synonymous with caring.

"Sorry," you said, forcing out a little laugh. "I guess I could have just introduced myself. You didn't really need to know all that." You shot your hand out, giving your name. "I'm here about the nannying gig. Um, obviously. That is, if I didn't already scare you off."

Wayne took your hand in both of his own, shaking it. He placated you with a grin. "It's a lot harder than that to scare off a Munson, sweetheart. Let's go inside and meet Olly."

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Although Oliver Munson was only five, he had a spectacular vocabulary and a limitless imagination. Wayne knew the boy was a little charmer, quite like how Eddie was when he allowed himself to be, when the teenager wasn't drowning himself in existential teenage angst and nonsense.

You fell under Olly's spell almost instantly.

And it seemed the little boy had fallen under yours as well.

Oliver didn't stop talking to you while you were there, and didn't stop talking about you after you’d left, asking when you’d be back and if next time you could take him to the trailer park's playground and maybe you two could watch G.I. Joe or He-Man together afterward.

Wayne had taken your number down before you’d left and had told you he'd be in touch soon.

Later that evening, after Eddie had gotten back from his club meeting at school, Wayne took the trip into downtown Hawkins to use the payphone and ask you if you wouldn't mind starting as early as tomorrow.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You were far from struggling for money.

Your father was a sought-after criminal prosecutor for the entirety of Indiana. Your mother was a real estate agent for high profile clientele who came from old family money; her father was CEO of a day trading business, and his father before him had been the same.

Although you likely would have never had to work a day in your life and could live a comfortable existence off of inheritance alone, handouts and the humdrum of an All-Play-and-No-Work lifestyle was never a dream of yours. That sounded so cookie cutter, so monotonous, so boring.

You liked to feel a sense of accomplishment. You liked setting goals and reaching them. You didn't want to freeload off of money that was gained from the capitalistic professions your parents were a part of. You wanted to be in control of your own finances and be the author of your own future, not have it already be etched into stone simply by being just another rich kid from Hawkins, à la the likes of the Carver's or the Cunningham's or the Harrington's.

You were ecstatic when you got the call from Wayne, asking you if you’d be willing to start the following day. He left for work at 2PM, so you’d have to be there before then, and would need to plan on staying until Wayne's nephew got home around six.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous, but the job itself wasn't the reason why that writhing feeling accompanied your excitement.

You had more than ten years of babysitting experience under your belt, and you were eager to get back into a job you actually enjoyed as opposed to trying out different careers to see what stuck and what didn't. Having graduated the spring before, you’d been taking an off year to save up money by working odd jobs around Hawkins to be able to buy your own apartment.

You’d worked as a florist for a few weeks, but it turned out your thumb was pitch black instead of green.

You worked as the personal assistant for a group of lawyers from a local law firm, but it turned out they just needed office eye candy and not someone to actually get any sort of work done.

You worked as a veterinary assistant, but it turned out the job was much more than just petting cats and dogs. You couldn't handle it when a sick animal would come in and there would be nothing anyone could do. Your heart broke more at that clinic than it had your entire life.

You were in between jobs when you’d decided to peruse the classified section of the Hawkins post. There, in the shortest blurb on the page, was a listing for a needed nanny, a full-time position offering negotiable pay.

The next bit was where the excitement wavered.

The listing was published by a Wayne Munson of the Forest Hills trailer park.

That had to be Eddie Munson's uncle. There was no way there were two separate Munson families living in the only trailer park in Kerley County.

You couldn't believe that you’d stumbled across this ad, that the geeky metalhead you’d crushed on since your freshman year of high school had a little brother you could be the potential nanny of.

You were two years younger than Eddie, but that hadn't stopped you from losing periods of time to daydreams about the way the wind ruffled his wild mess of curls on breezy days or the way his band tee sleeves always clung perfectly to the soft muscles of his biceps or the way his cheeks dimpled when he teased the other boys he sat with at lunch.

You’d always wanted to introduce yourself, but you didn't run in the same crowds -- you being on the cheer team and Eddie blasting Black Sabbath in the parking lot after his Hellfire meetings. You could never muster the courage. He seemed so carefree, so full of life, so effortlessly funny. Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend, had spoken to him once or twice and had told you how different he was than what other people said about him. He wasn't scary or mean or threatening, and instead was warm and silly and genuine.

But you knew how the people you spent your time around treated people like him. You knew your group of "friends" referred to him as a freak, a Satan worshipper, and did everything in their power to try to bully him into becoming a shell of himself. Thankfully, he never did -- it was almost as if Eddie absorbed the hatefulness and spent it tenfold by mocking the hilarity of the jock hierarchy that ruled the school, as well as using it to strengthen his own ability to embrace every misfit that walked the halls of Hawkins High.

You never introduced yourself because you were afraid he’d think you had an ulterior motive, that you’d be trying to talk to him as a joke or a prank. You knew the company you kept. You were sure Jason Carver had once or twice suggested you do just that, lead Eddie on and make a fool of him in front of the whole school.

You figured it'd be best to just stay away.

But now, you thought finding this ad was possibly a sign from the universe.

Maybe you were getting a second chance.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Eddie was running late.

He was supposed to be back home half an hour ago to relieve whoever Olly's new babysitter was of her duties, but the campaign had taken a shocking turn and Hellfire couldn't disband until it had commenced.

The night finally ended with Will's character decapitating Dustin's, and Eddie had to thwart an actual attack when Dustin leapt across the game table at Will in a bout of rage. Dustin was small but mighty, and Eddie had to physically wrestle the boy off of Will's neck, threatening to banish Dustin from the next few campaigns if he didn’t chill out. Henderson had huffed and puffed but had admitted defeat and apologized to Will for the attempted murder.

By the time Eddie arrived back to the trailer park, the sun had almost set. He pulled his van into his parking spot to the right of the trailer and shut it off. Stepping out, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, but came to a halt when he heard Olly's scream sound from behind the trailer.

Dropping his bag and beginning to run toward the noise, Eddie's heart fell to his stomach. Horrible images of what could possibly be pulling that sound from his little brother pervaded Eddie's mind. He had an overactive imagination to begin with, and something like this verbal cue only egged it on. "Olly!" he shouted, panic raising his voice. "Olly, are you okay?! What’s going on, where are --"

Eddie came to a halt when he found the boy in the backyard with a huge smile spread across his small, sweaty face. Olly had a fake crown on, one made of twigs and leaves, and he was carrying one of the biggest sticks Eddie had ever seen. He had a blanket tucked into the back of his shirt, the cloth a makeshift cape. A thin piece of metal, probably from one of the cars Wayne and Eddie sometimes worked on, was wrapped around his center, acting as armor.

Olly had just been playing.

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Eddie noticed your frame just off to the side. His eyes started from the ground up, noting the shiny red Docs donning your feet, moving up bare legs that were covered mid-thigh by a short black skater dress, one that hugged your curves in a way that had Eddie’s mouth going dry.

By the time he reached your face, your eyes were wide with amusement.

You’d been watching as he slowly drank you in. He didn't mean to ogle. He had to shake his head a few times to clear it, and when he did so, the face before him started looking more and more familiar.

"Wait," he started, head tilting. He spoke your name, tone riddled with confusion. "From high school?"

You were about to answer when Oliver cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to be ignored or to have his playtime interrupted any longer. You looked down at the boy, who pointed up to his head at his crown. You got the gist -- Olly wanted the game to continue. You could indulge him. You’d been doing it all day, and honestly you’d been having the most fun you’d had in a while.

You turned your attention back to Eddie, fixing your posture and jutting your chin out slightly. "I don't know who that is," you began, voice lilting. "I am Princess Guinevere of Kerley County and this here,” you brought your gaze back down to Oliver, “is my most loyal servant, Sir Olly of Castle Munson."

Eddie couldn't help the grin that broke out over his face at your announcement. He then took a moment to fully take in the rest of your appearance. You, too, had on a makeshift crown, this one made up of cherry blossoms and daisies. You had a flowing blanket tucked into the back of your dress, cascading down your back like a veil.

No fucking way were you, last year's cheerleading captain and prom queen, standing in his backyard playing fucking knights and princesses with his little brother. No fucking way.

Olly broke the silence by shouting out, "Hey, Eddie! Who are you gonna be?"

Eddie tore his eyes from you to focus on his brother. He pursed his lips to one side in thought, trying to come up with a character. He was usually quick on his feet when it came to creative play, but he had just spent the last three hours DM'ing a month-long DnD campaign. His brain felt shot. He was pulled from his introspective reverie by your soft, suggestive voice — no, sorry — the soft, suggestive voice of Princess Guinevere.

"Wanna be my dragon, Eddie?" you asked.

Eddie wasn't exactly sure why that made his breath catch in his throat.

He nodded dumbly, silent, then forced himself to speak because he didn't want to look totally lame in front of a Princess. "Okay. Yeah, I'll be your dragon."

You graced him with a smile before Oliver's tiny but booming voice cut through the air of the darkening night. "HEY! Dragons don't talk!" the boy stomped his foot and hit his stick against the muddy ground in annoyance.

A laugh bubbled from your throat and Eddie grinned, jumping into a wide-legged stance before outstretching his arms, tilting his head back, and roaring.

[luffyvace]

Helloooo! I saw ur request open and writing for saiki k! I see so little context of him 😭

May I request where saiki is dating his favorite author(she is an anonymous writer) and he didn't know (like she Naver though to tell him about it and she Naver really think of her work when w him or when in school) and maybe finding out through his dad that she is ? And how would he react and think after he found out ?

(sorry if my request was long 😭)

Yeah me too !! 😭

ohhh wow! What an interesting and fun request! Thank you :}

(you used ‘she’ so reader implied is fem but I won’t mention you being a girl just in case <3)

Don’t worry it’s not too long at all~

☕️🌷

Everyday you get home after school and write, as a comfort and to make some change to buy things you like :)

You do publish your work, but your an anonymous writer

your sales have been doing really good and everything! Your forever grateful!

it makes you happy seeing as though writing makes you happy and is your comfort!

so the fact that you could be doing that for others makes you joyous 💓

there’s also your boyfriend Kusuo!

he’s a reserved and genuine guy who treats you very well :)

you’ve been an item for a while now and your really happy in your relationship!

man you’ve really got it going for yourself!! 😋💪

this company has been loyally publishing your work for quite some time which makes you satisfied to see they like your writing!

school’s good too! You and Kusuo have a friend group who you go out with pretty often

(alright that was a little bit of some reader POV now here’s the fun part! 😆)

Kusuo finished his coffee jelly and was going down stairs to put the dishes in the sink

until he spotted his dad reading his favorite book/manga!!

”hey dad what book is that?”

his dad’s inner dialogue: “holy crap my son is talking to me!”

“oh uh nothing son just uh (book/manga title name)—I uhh, brought a copy from work home”

”they have that series there?”

”yeah! We do! We have every chapter! Actually, we’re the ones publishing them! Do want me to get you the set?…..if I lick my bosses shoes a couple extra times I’m sure I could pull a few strings..”

”thanks.”

his dad’s inner dialogue: “holy crap I just had a conversation with my son! He was wanted to talk to…me! I can’t believe it..!”

saiki’s inner dialogue: “goodness..😒🤦”

”n-no problem son! Heheh..”

He was gonna go back to his room but stopped at the stairs

“hey dad..the author uses a pen name..do you know who they are?”

“Huh-! Oh!- yeah I do! I’ve met them in person actually- do you wanna meet them?”

Kusuo nods and walks off

his dad then proceeds to dance in his living room, as he’s had a successful conversation with his son that Kusuo started 🕺🕺

Later that week, saiki and his dad wait for you to show up at his job with the latest chapter

he was indeed able to pull a few strings…by licking some shoes..

when you walk in Kusuo’s dad came up to you and (re)introduced you to his son

”Kusuo this is (Name), the author you asked me to introduce you to. (Name), meet my son Kusuo”

you looked surprised to see Kusuo and that he wanted to meet you?? I mean you know your anonymous but he likes your work?! You had no idea he was buying!

Kusuo has a slightly amused expression on his face

“Kusuo? You…”

..were at a loss of words at such a funny situation! (LOL)

you two ended up explaining both sides of the situation

you said you love to write, but anonymously and you never got around to telling him

he said this is his favorite series from you and your his favorite author, he’s been buying for a while to be frank!

ohhh!

this may be the way his parents found out you were a couple and let me tell you he was less than pleased..(not that he wanted to hide it but his parents…..:^ yeah 😃)

Saiki got the privilege of getting the first copy of the latest chapter before it was even published! :)

and now he always does <3

he also has the perk of getting it for free!

horray! Now he can save his money for coffee jelly- 😚

LOL not that he doesn’t wanna support you

you simply give it to him and he accepts ♥︎

he also gets the honors of helping you decide things for the story!

He gleefully reads the parts in which his opinion was inserted

however he doesn’t want to influence any major plot points- he doesn’t like spoilers :P

(It is possible he persuades people at school to buy your books so you can have the funding to keep going and make you happy simultaneously—but we’ll never really know 🤷‍♀️ )

your actually my first saiki k request! Thank you! I appreciate it love!

hopefully you had a good meal out of these headcanons cherished anonymous~ ☺️

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Miles Morales Headcanons:

❝ Okay, let's do this one last time, yeah? For real this time. This is it. My name is Miles Morales. ❝

[SFW Headcanons + No Gendered Terms]

A/N: UGH!! Precious bby boy <3 <3 He deserves the whole world and more. This was honestly one of the cuter headcanon lists I’ve done so far. Absolute wholesome points.

> God, Miles having a crush is absolutely adorable because he becomes a straight up MESS! He cannot stop thinking about you at all. It stresses him out because what if you don’t feel that way??

> Miles would find whatever time he can to hang out or talk to you. He’ll “accidentally” bump into you in the hall or he “coincidentally” met up at the same park.

> He’s trying so hard to be smooth but it always falls flat because he doubts himself.

> Finding out you liked him back blew his mind because you???? Like him???? It’s incomprehensible to him because how can someone as perfect as you like him???

> Miles is giggling and kicking his feet while listening to love songs in his room after you confess. He’s a pure lover boy.

> As Spider-man , he’s sneaking around during night patrols to check in on you and make sure you make it home safe.

> Miles is quite observant and ends up picking up on some of your habits/fidgeting. He doesn’t notice that he mirrors you at all and would deny it completely if you brought it up.

> “Whaaat? Psshh… Nah, I wouldn’t do… something… like that…” *sweating nervously*

> His life can be overwhelming sometimes and he always just relies on you to make him feel better. Late night calls just to talk or vent while laying in your separate beds, a ways away from each other.

> He would be SO nervous for you to meet his parents because consider it a job interview the way they immediately sit you down and ask a million questions at once. What school you go to, your dreams/future career, asking about extracurriculars and how many honors classes you have.

> They only do it because they want Miles to have the best but they kinda forget how intimidating it is to be interrogated by a cop and a Latina mother LMAOO

> It would take a while before he reveals he’s Spider-man to you if you weren’t a Spider-person yourself. It’s not because he doesn’t trust you but because he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

> He would have you promise it to be a secret between the two of you.

> He definitely has tried to do the upside-down kiss with you before he had to scurry off but heard his dad’s voice at the scene and accidentally dropped down.

> Miles’ main Love Languages to give are: Quality Time and Gift Giving.

> Miles knows he can be pretty busy. Juggling classes and being Spiderman keeps him in a constant move.

> So when he does get time with you, he wants it to feel special. Like nothing else exists in that moment except you two.

> He’ll swing by on a patrol and sweep you up to a rooftop just to spend time together. He always has a goofy smile when he takes off his mask and shows off the mini picnic he set up.

> Miles loves to give you gifts all the time. Nothing too expensive or anything but stuff he makes.

> He’d be too embarrassed to show you his sketchbook but he’d give sketches of you and notes on loose paper. All the drawings are lined in pen and sometimes colored in alcohol markers.

> Absolutely makes you playlists to listen to. Whether it was because you asked for recommendations or because he wanted to, he’s making one over the course of a week w/ a minimum of 30 songs.

> One of the playlists is definitely a romantic playlist, all with songs that make him think of you with each lyric.

> When his parents learned about the relationship, his mom was the first one to sit him down and tell him how he needs to get you flowers and stuff.

> So the next time you show up at a family event, you just see Rio smiling to you while she’s nudging Miles with her elbow as he holds a full bouquet for you.

> OHHH HE LOVES MATCHING BRACELETS!!! He will make them and then never take his off. His will have a nickname of yours while yours will either say “Miles” or “Spidey”.

> Miles’ favorite Love Languages to receive are: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.

> Miles tends to be… all over the place. So, he loves when he gets a helping hand from time to time.

> Covering for him when he’s late to something, helping out in studying, giving answers to homework, stuff like that.

> He appreciates his stress levels being eased even with small things like that. He’ll never ask for those things himself but he loves to have you do them and he’ll always make it up to you afterwards!

> Miles also has ease in getting blushy and flustered with his partner so compliments and flirting are definitely the way to get him to be head over heels.

> “Stop..!” *looks away, scratching the back of his neck and nervously laughing* “… You mean it?”

> It’s also the best way to reassure him! He can overthink sometimes and worry that he isn’t doing enough or doing something wrong so hearing how much you loved something he’s done encourages him a good bit!

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[minimoxha]

Tangled

Summary: After his wife and daughter died he thought he lost everything. However, you for some reason, you’d didn’t disappear. So, Miguel locked you up. He had to find some way to protect you so you couldn’t be taken from him like Gabriella. What better way to do that then keep you in his dimension where he could get to you in case of anything.

Warnings: Low key bad parenting, Mother knows best lyrics, Cussing if you squint. Maybe bad Spanish, things I grew up listening to.

W/C:

A/n This might be bad, it’s been a long time since i’ve written fanfic so bare with me! If you want a part two or three because i’ll prolly make a part too just let me know. And please give me some good Miguel and hobie fanfics down below!

Part two to this is posted: here

series masterlist is here

Even without a spider sense, Miguel could tell that something was up. The way she kept looking at him as she ate her breakfast, the way she kept shifting in her seat on the bar of their house that was really more of a castle that he forced her in years ago; and the way she was scarfing down her food so fast that it didn't even look like she had swallowed. Miguel liked to think that he knew his daughter pretty well, when her sister and mother died he became the only person she spoke to on a daily basis. However, who she spoke to wasn’t by choice. No, it was by force.

It was because her dad had locked her up in their house in order to ‘protect’ her from the dangers that could possibly be outside. Maybe an anomaly or some silly boy wanting to give you more but heartbreak. Miguel was all about protecting his one and only. You weren't bored in the house until now, your 18th birthday had finally been the day that cleaning, art, knitting, sewing and any of the other hobbies your dad had brought home for you to try became too tiring for your newly adult brain. You wanted to see the fireworks that unknowingly to you, Miguel set off every year in celebration for you. You wanted to meet actual people instead of being cooped up in the same boring house (Even if it was Huge!) every single day. It never actually rang to Miguel that one day, protecting you meant letting you out of his grasp at least once. Which is also why this time; he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong with his daughter this time around.

“Que paso?” Miguel asked, food still in his mouth and turning to his daughter who had the same look on her face.

“It’s my birthday dad” His daughter, Y/n answered. She still had the smile on her face, when has Miguel ever said no to his daughter? Every single day she’d ask “when can I go out?” He’d always tell her someday and her eighteenth birthday had to be the day, Right? “I want to see the fireworks as my birthday present.”

Miguel’s eyes looked at her empty, as if there were no thoughts whatsoever behind his eyes. Except, all he could think about was holding Gabriella and you in his arms when she completely glitched and disappeared. The world risks something that would take his baby, his daughter, the thing that he fights for every single time he defeats an anomaly.

“You can see them from the window, you see them every year mami. Why is it so special this year?” (I see a lot of people using mami sexually but my dad and aunts called me and my sister mami as a nickname so that's what it’ll be!)

“I want to see them up close, outside dad. I’m tired of staying here all day every day. I need sun” She spoke, making Mig’s fist clench harder and harder on his fork, it was just about breaking now, minutes from that if he kept it up. “Please dad, I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’m eighteen! I can’t stay here forever with you. I want to go and have a life, meet people, make memo-”

“You speak as if you know so much about making a life. Mija, you know how dangerous it is out there. You are too naive, gullible, and ditzy to think that you will be safe with people waiting to mug you the moment you step foot from this house. I’m saying this because I love you. The final answer is no.” Miguel growled before finally snapping his fork in half and letting a sigh out. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair before taking the two clean bowls to the kitchen leaving his daughter to sit– dreams broken and in silence. Did he really completely turn her down? Suddenly, the girl felt her face heat up and her eyes develop that certain wetness that always came around on her birthday, never this early though. What coule she do now? What would happen now? Would she be stuck here forever without any way to get outside?

The familiar voice of her father woke her out of her thoughts. He came over, Putting an arm around his daughter as she leaned into his touch, sniffling. “Don’t cry, Mija. This is for the best so nothing will happen to you.” She nodded into his arms, not convinced. Miguel sighed and grabbed her head with his hand, turning the girl to face him. He could see the sadness that lied on his daughters face. However, he’d rather hurt her feelings then have her be hurt by anyone else. Why would she want to go out there when he could give her anything she ever wanted, easily. “Mija, I’m saying this because I love you. I want to protect you, tú entiendes.” The girl nodded and her dad kissed her forehead before leaving the house without even so much as a bye to his daughter. .

She didn’t understand. Why was it that every teen that she saw on the tv and her computer were able to go live outside their houses and have fun. Make memories like parties and Malls and games? Why was the world so dangerous for her but not for everyone else? The girl got up and walked to the kitchen where Miguel left his and her dirty dishes in the sink. She had to clean again, even on a day as special as her birthday. It was almost like, he didn’t even care. The girl turned on music, a group called Exon, the group was home to her dimension and happened to be dropping by for a concert in Nueva York. She was contemplating asking to go but Miguels answer would probably be the same as always. A no. Y/n felt those familiar tears well up in her eye before the sound of her window opening sprung her away from the music. Whoever was trying to break in, was really loud with it. Quickly, she grabbed whatever was closest to her- A frying pan and continued to the Dining room hesitantly.

Millions of thoughts were racing through the girls head. Who was breaking in? How did they get past the security system even she couldn’t break? Was what miguel said true? Were people really waiting on you in order to kill or rob you? Her thoughts disappeared when she stood in the entryway , seeing nothing but an empty dining room. She stood hands on her hips, questioning if maybe what she heard was apart of the song and the alarm system blaring was just an accident.

“‘Ello love, Have you seen this big man wearing a red and black spandex suit? He looks like a clown almost.” With a gasp, The girl turned to face another spider-man, just like your father. But this one was different, he was wearing clothes along with the suit. The suit even had cool little spikes on his head. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at him in awe, her eyes only widened when the man took his mask off. He was brown skin with Wiks Littering his head. She could tell that he grew his hair out for a while to achieve as much hair he had. Piercings littered his face, adding to the rocker touch that the man already gave. She dropped the pan to the floor and scrambles to get her thoughts together. So he was another spider-man, looking for her father. A cute spider-man at that.

Of course, she knew about Hq and the whole dimension things but usually people contacted him through his watch and not his phone. So how was he here and not through the hologram? It’d been ages since she’s seen another person other than her dad, it almost didn’t feel real or right to be here, looking at someone. “My names Y/n. My dad- My dad’s not here right now actually he just left.” She said, looking everywhere but in the eyes of the spiky spider-man. “What’s your name? You’re a spider-man just like him?”

The man gave a nod before walking through the house and taking a closer look. The girl followed right behind him watching him with wide eyes as he checked out the house. The two ended up right in the kitchen. “I’m sorry- who are you? Why are you roming my house like you know it?” She Was now defensive, arms crossed and shifted on one leg. If men had anything it was the audacity to roam her house without an intoxication at least.

“Right. Names Hobbie Brown.”

Thanks for reading! I hope y’all enjoyed that, it’s been a long time since i’ve written so i’ll try to produce better things next time! Until then,

[pumpkinsy0]

Okay so I have some scars on my body from mental health reasons. But I’ve been feeling insecure and bad about them since my dad brought them up in kind of a rude manner. So I was wondering if you had any HC’s about Dallas Winston having scars of his own. 👉👈

of course anon!!! hope u feel better soon and that i could help u feel better<333

tw/cw talk about self harm!! nothin too bad however, its not in extreme detail or nothin, but ill make a lil note before i talk about it if u wanna skip that so u can still read the rest!!

•dally has many scars for many different reasons, rumbles with weapons, his dad, fights w tim, hurts himself, its a mixed bag rlly

•its pretty much all over his body, there isnt a singular part of his body where there isnt a scar, at this point he sees it as a part of him, he has mixed feelings about it

•on one hand, for the scars he’s gotten in fights, hes proud about it, says its shown the fights hes been in and it makes him look tough, but the ones he got himself, he doesnt like talking about it, makes up a lie about em so nobody knows the truth about it and so he could always seem tough

•and it does work actually, he does have street cred for his scars, he brags about it too if someone brings it up, but its not somethin he brings up on a whim to flex

•the only ppl who actually know the full extent of his scars r tim and sylvia, theyre the only ppl whos actually seen dallys like full body

•self harm talk here- when dally hurt himself, its genuinely not intentional at all, for example he has a switchblade in his hand, hes not rlly paying attention bc hes thinking about his life and accidentally cuts himself, the way i see it is hes just somewhat accidentally destructive physically w his own body if that makes sense, other times he just puts a cigarette out on his skin and he gets a scar from that

•sometimes however, he actually DOES cut himself on complete accident, he has a few small scars on his face bc he was shaving and was too hard or fast or sneezed or somethin, but he does genuinely hurt himself on accident, he’d never admit to that however, he hates looking like a klutz

•to some degree he hides his scars bc his leather jacket is just always on (but thats partially bc he sees his leather jacket as something that keeps him grounded), BUT then again, hes pale as shit so to an extent his scars arent as visible (unless u hc him to b black or just have darker skin which in that case ignore this part of the hc)

•he actually has a pretty big scar on his torso from a bar fight at bucks, he got slashed w a broken glass bottle and had to be patched up by buck and sylvia

•i feel like he feels them when hes alone, just runs his fingers over them, its an odd feeling of comfort to him, sylvia (and potentially tim if u want) do it, and he feels on edge a lil

•he sees himself and his scars in johnny in a way, he sees johnny with the scars and it just hits him differently than it would w the others, to dally, yea they feel bad bc johnnys just a kid, but they dont rlly live through what johnny does unlike him, and so when johnny got that scar on his face, dally especially took that one personally

thanks for the ask, and again, hope u feel better soon, u deserve it!!!

[alpydk]

The Circling Sky (Part 2)

New fic, a lot darker than the last one. Set post-Netherbrain. Gale x F (OC) - Written primarily as my own therapy, it seems. TW - Reference to a suicide attempt as well as the overall theme of alcoholism and neglectful parenting.

He packed a small bag of clothes and supplies, thankful for his earlier time on the road for these new skills of survival. Though he was anxious for what was to come, a part of him was excited to be moving again, to see what types of people would be awaiting him this time. He left a small letter of explanation for Tara and as the sun rose, he left for the city limits.

Ao3 Link

Lissa had run home through the rain to find her father quickly packing essentials into a trunk. This happened every so often, usually when he owed money to someone and couldn’t pay up, but since reaching Waterdeep he had promised things would be different. “What do you mean we have to leave?” The smell of alcohol permeated his clothes, and she knew exactly what had happened. He’d got drunk, gambled the last of their gold away and was now most likely in debt to someone dangerous. “You’ve not pissed it away, have you?”

He refused to answer, just throwing clothes into a bag. “Lissa, dear. It’s not how it looks, we just have to lay low for a little while, that’s all. Go grab your cloak.” She noted the swelling under his eye, not the first black eye he’d managed to get. At least that’s all it was this time.

She remembered the nights she had come home from working at sleazy bars, finding him unconscious on the floor either from having been beaten up or having just drunk himself into that state. The worst moment was when she was barely ten years old and she had found him lying under a broken rafter in their bedroom, the noose still tied around his neck and his face bruised and swollen from what he had attempted to do. She’d been young but she fully understood what had happened, choosing just to sit with him until he woke. He’d never tried anything like that again but the drinking, the gambling, the fights, they all continued. She’d thought about leaving so many times, even threatened it, but each time he would play the victim and she would feel the guilt wrap itself around her own throat, her own noose ready for the hanging.

“But what about my job, Dad? I can’t just up and leave.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. I’m sure they won’t miss you. There’re always other young girls who can serve drinks.”

She turned from him holding back her anger. He didn’t even know what she had been doing these last two months. How every single day she’d worked at the library to bring money into their home, keeping them fed and with a roof over their heads. “Can you not just use the money I’ve been putting aside? Do we really have to leave another place?”

He paused from packing, and she knew exactly what this meant. “The savings?”

“You used them too, didn’t you?”

“Well now, there were good odds on this horse…”

She wanted to shout at him. She should have known better than to have left the gold at home where he could access it. He’d promised her that this wouldn’t happen again, promised her that the drinking would stop, and he would do better by her. She couldn’t even be angry at him though, it was so much easier to feel nothing, to expect disappointment instead.  Her father, the most unreliable person she knew.

Realising she hadn’t brought her cloak home with her; she looked back over to him. “How much time do we have?”

“We’re joining the caravan to Baldur’s Gate around sunrise tomorrow. I expect us up and at the city limits just before then,” he said as he slumped to his side, leaving the bag and gripping his chest.

Hearing the thud, she ran over to him “Shit, Dad. The pain again? You spoke to the clerics, right?”

He rubbed at his shirt breathing deeply until it had passed. “Of course, they said it’s nothing.”

“So that money went on booze too, didn’t it?” She stood back up shaking her head. He couldn’t be trusted to do anything. Why did she keep letting him get away with this? “I left my cloak at the library. I’ll be back in a bit.”

***

Gale paced his study trying to figure out what to do with himself. He had no confirmation that this letter was real and no more information than what was written there. He considered a sending spell, maybe another letter to gather up information but he felt restless knowing he would need to wait for a reply. There was also the matter that if the information was correct, if Tav was truly dead then he would be left alone to grieve in Waterdeep. There was always Tara and his mother and yet they had never brought comfort in the same way his friends had. No, he wanted to be around them again; he would travel to Baldur’s Gate. 

He packed a small bag of clothes and supplies, thankful for his earlier time on the road for these new skills of survival. Though he was anxious for what was to come, a part of him was excited to be moving again, to see what types of people would be awaiting him this time. He left a small letter of explanation for Tara and as the sun rose, he left for the city limits.

***

“Is five gold mate, you can’t just come on ‘ere for free.” 

Lissa’s father, Viktor, had been trying to barter for some time with the caravan leader to get them a spot on the cart. After she’d left him, he’d done little more in the ways of packing and had instead started on a bottle of brandy he’d bought with the last gold they had. The swelling under his eye had turned a blue-black colour and he nursed his head clearly suffering the consequences of his actions. 

“Look, ‘ow ‘bout you let us ‘ave a little minute with your pretty friend there. Then we can call it even.”

Her back tensed up at the idea of it and her father’s silence brought her little comfort. Was he seriously considering this? In the end, she turned removing a small silver ring from her finger. “Here this is easily worth five gold.”

“But wasn’t that your mother’s?” her father said, his voice sounding gravelly. 

It had been, but her mother was long gone. A drow that had managed one drunken night with her father and then ditched her the moment she realised she wasn’t a full-blood. Just another tragic half-breed treated as an outsider by both races. All she had was her father; what was some trinket compared to family? Lissa handed over the necklace and as the caravan leader nodded, she took her father’s arm helping him up onto the cart. 

“Lissa?”

A voice from behind her calling her name, one she recognised. As she turned, she saw Gale approach, his arm waving to her and a smile on his face. What was he doing here? Viktor leant out from behind her. “He looks like he’d have a bit of cash on him.” 

She stepped down from the cart and approached Gale, trying to distance herself from her father lest Gale realise she was together with him. “Mr. Dekarios, a surprise to see you.”

“Yes, yes, a welcome surprise to see you too. I’m to take a rather unexpected journey. Might I assume that you are to do the same?” He signalled to the wagon. 

“Yeah, something like that. We’re going to visit family.” This had been the lie ever since she was a child, a dying grandmother, a pregnant aunt, some distant relative in need of aid, anything but the truth. She’d lost count of how many times she had covered for her father’s debts.

“Ah, exciting. Well, it will be good to have some fine company on this expedition.” He softly smiled at her, and she remembered how close she had come to kissing him the previous evening, the warmth inside her still burning for him. If she hadn’t been aware of her father’s eyes on them both she might have just given in there and then to him.

“Oi, Lis’, we need to get a move on. He wouldn’t be interested in you anyways, looks like he goes for the smart ones,” he laughed.

She closed her eyes at her father’s words that rang out over the group of travellers. She opened them again to see Gale looking at her with sympathy. His voice was quiet and caring. “Family, I take it?”

She gave a quick nod and turned to the cart. This was going to be a very long trip to Baldur’s Gate.

***

For some hours they sat as the cart rocked back and forth along the bumpy road. Viktor had thankfully fallen asleep, a flask in hand. He’d told her it just held water, but the smell had given it away quite quickly. So long as he was asleep that was fine. It meant she could collect her thoughts and prepare for setting up again in a new city. 

Gale sat across from her observing the way she tapped her fingers repetitively. Thumb to pointer, tapped twice, repeated on each finger and back again. Clearly, some sort of mindless soothing habit she had. These little things he had never had the chance to see during his visits to the library. Though he had watched her often then, it was different when she wasn’t moving around constantly. Eventually, he spoke up hoping she would engage in conversation with him. “Lissa, I delivered your cloak to the library. I can see you never found the opportunity to collect it.”

“We left in quite a hurry. Family emergency you see.” She nervously tapped her fingers together a few more times.

He leant forward, placing a hand on her knee, his voice calm and soft. “Ah, do you want to talk about it? I’m quite the good listener.”

“No, no it’s fine.” More information meant more lies, which meant more to keep track of. Best to just keep it short and simple. Besides once they reached the city, they would be parting ways for good. No reason to build any attachments.

“Well, when we travel back, maybe you can collect it. Or possibly I could purchase you a new one. It was my fault after all that you left it behind.”

She remembered the events vividly, how she had left the tower, how the rain had battered down on her bare shoulders as she ran home. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her leg, her mind becoming easily distracted; change the subject repeating internally. “Why is it you are travelling Mr. Dekarios?”

“Please, my dear. Call me Gale. We are no longer in the library.”

“That may be so but if we are to return, I don’t want to create any bad habits I can not break.” She didn’t want to build up any close relations, especially not with someone who she was already fond of. 

Gale pulled himself back, removing his hand from her. He seemed disappointed and she hated herself for dismissing him so quickly. Her father snored next to her, and she bit back the resentment she held towards him. If only that beam had held, maybe things would have been different for her. No, she shouldn’t think that, this was her father after all.

“I understand. Well, I suppose my reason for travelling is much like your own. A family emergency of sorts.” Gale didn’t want to say death until he was sure of the exact circumstances, and he didn’t want to share full details if she was to keep up the pretence of a professional relationship.

She nodded. She was curious but did not want to dig further into it, knowing it would mean sharing more of her own life as an unwritten payment for information. She grabbed at the bag between her legs puling out a small book to read.

“Tanil?”

Lissa lifted her head at the unexpected question.

Gale gestured to the book in her hands. “The book you hold there. Felaar Tanil, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Um, yes, it is. How did you know?”

He gave a short chuckle. “My dear, I’ve been known to try my hand at poetry. Tanil is one of the ones I would often recommend over a bottle of Blingdenstone Blush.”

She smiled at him, enjoying this moment of connection but simultaneously cursing the fact that they shared something in common. Her slowly improving mood was shattered instantly at the voice of her father, his opinions needing to be vocalised for all to hear.

“Poetry is for elves, princesses, and men who-” His voice was cut off by a sudden lurch of the cart, hitting a bump in the road. Lissa was thankful as it gave her a quick moment to mouth an apology to Gale for her father’s behaviour. Only three tenday to go… 

[whatbigotspost]

Oh this advice that just randomly came across my Twitter feed is very very good

I’d be lying to you if I claimed I have “beaten” overthinking bc I’ll be managing those tendencies forever I think. but over probably a 15 year process I, too, have adopted many of these and my mental health is in a pretty damn good place utilizing these tools.

Especially important for me as a survivor of mental/emotional child abuse has been FACT CHECKING and understanding what I’m ruminating on likely isn’t reality if no one else has heard it yet, it’s merely “the story I am telling myself.”

The voice of my particular inner critic is my father’s judgements, lies, and paranoia. As I’ve written about many times before the poison he dripped in my ears for 18 years made me feel like I’ll never be good enough and made it super hard to trust the good intentions of other people. Meaning, the disposition I inherited against my consent is overly negative. Many people like and even love me but I interact with them while having a bias baked into me that is against myself and assumes they are against me too (until I consciously push back against that mindset.)

I’ve worked really hard to confront and quiet that inner critic and it doesn’t nearly drive me as much anymore as it used to and as I always ramble about a self-compassion approach is my jam. Nevertheless, the biggest way the inner critic impacts me day-to-day is that if I interact w/ someone and for whatever reason real or imagined, I feel like they sounded even a teensie bit like that inner critic come to life, it can REALLY fuck with me. I feel exposed and worthless. Sometimes I can fact check myself and recognize “that’s not what was happening, this is a YOU thing.” I do that by literally walking myself through a memory and trying to focus on what was really said or done and not what I have catastrophized it to be.

But other times when I’m spinning out baaaad and overthinking something maybe even for days (aka when I’m hella triggered), I literally tell people involved (who I know well enough) something like “hey remember back when XYZ happened between us well it’s triggering all my personal bullshit so I wanted to just ask, when you said blah blah, did you mean [insert my own insecurity] because the story I’m telling myself…” etc etc you get it.

AND!!!! THIS!!! works sooooo well. It’s vulnerable but honest and anyone worth spending time around is always so happy to clear up that they don’t hate me 😂 Finding phrases like “the story I’m telling myself” have been a revelation. Used this at work last week and went from “I have irreparably failed this person and am worthless” to “oh they actually had a super important idea to add to the project that I’m so glad they brought up so that I didn’t miss it.” I don’t know it’s nice to remind ourselves that instead of overthinking something that involved other people (who we trust) we can so often just TALK TO THEM.

Let me end on this though…..be very very cautious of attempting to fact check with someone whose own perspective might be divergent from reality, who is manipulative, or who is solely or largely self serving. Years ago when I still spoke to my dad not long before we stopped speaking and I tried to fact check what was said in an argument the resulting experience for me was MUCH WORSE than if I would have never approached him.

Aaaaanyway…overthinking sucks. These tips are great.

[sossity]

So @skellydun is back and doing let’s plays on youtube now--if you like low res horror w/ funny charismatic hosts definitely check him out, he’s really good--and his latest video brought back a memory that I haven’t really thought about for a very long time, and thought I might as well share with the internet.

So growing up we couldn’t afford full destination vacations.  Mostly when my dad had time off, we’d stay at home, play games, maybe do a few things nearby or find something cool and semi-touristy we could do in a day trip.  But my mom has always had a deep and abiding love for the beach, which was just far enough to make day trips a pain.  So what we ended up doing a handful of times in my tween years was go, stay for a couple of nights, be very frugal while we were there, and go home.  

But as I said, we couldn’t afford much.  And by couldn’t afford much, I mean the decent hotels around our usual beach were by far out of our reach.  What we could afford was a couple of nights at a cheap motel.  Back then (I’m talking late 90′s) it was still a pretty family-friendly area, even still, but...yeah.  There were some that my mom took one look at (or one smell) and walked right back to the car. (Fun fact: one of the ones that actually met our low bar made the news a couple of decades later for an outbreak of Legionnaire’s disease!) 

If you’ve never stayed at a run down motel, I actually recommend trying it at least once.  Not alone.  Especially not alone if you’re a woman.  But it’s an odd, liminal experience that I don’t know if I’ve had anywhere else.  You can’t sleep.  You won’t.  (If you do, it’s not that run down.)  You’ll watch old tv and sit out on the balcony in the middle of the night in a space where everything’s transitional and time has no meaning besides ‘not light yet.’  It kind of sucks, and is kind of magic, and you’ll be glad when it’s over and you’re drinking coffee at sunrise and moving on.  (Also bring your own pillows, don’t walk on the carpet in your bare feet, and wear sweatpants to bed, trust me on this)

So after a while we did find a decent spot that was fairly clean, didn’t have too many problems, and wasn’t too far from the beach, and we went back there a few times.  It was nice, and I have plenty of good memories of that place.

Except the last time we went on one of these trips.

It was high summer and our usual place was full.  I don’t know if my parents forgot to make reservations, or if it wasn’t something we usually bothered with, but there we were with our bags in our car and doing our old routine of trying to find a place that wasn’t too moldy or visibly stained.

Fortunately up the same road a little bit was another motel that wasn’t full.  It even looked similar to the other one, it may have been built at the same time.  It even was clean.  So we took a room, went off to have fun, and didn’t think too much about it.

Until it was night and we were trying to sleep.  And the guys in the room next door (I think they were college-aged) apparently thought this was a GREAT time to have a party!  Loud, thumping music, yelling voices, all up against our wall.  We were annoyed as hell, but did our best to ignore it for a while.

Until they started banging on our door. 

They banged loud and long, and started shouting for help.  There were several of them.  Maybe they actually needed help, god knows.  They definitely sounded drunk and/or high.  But yelling and pounding on the door and trying to peek in the window of the family next door was NOT the way to get us to open up. 

We absolutely did not help.  We sat there with the lights off, trying to be completely silent, hoping they’d think we were out somewhere.  My mom was by the bed trying to figure out the motel phone (press these series of digits for an outside line! Then dial the long number on the back of the phone card you have purchased at any convenience store in the area!) so that we could call the cops, but couldn’t get it to work.  As I mentioned before, this was the 90s, so no cell phones.  So we just...hid.  And hoped they’d give up trying to pound down the door and that nothing worse would happen. 

They gave up pounding on the door.

In the morning, we got the fuck out of there.

I was already in the car, so I heard this part from my mom secondhand (I don’t think she would have wanted me there anyway): As we were putting our stuff in the car, my mom bumped into the lady who ran the place, as she was already starting to straighten out the rooms. (Again, these were small, cheap places that didn’t have a lot of (or any) staff, maybe 7-8 rooms total.)  My mom, of course, told her what happened.  Naturally she was like “what the fuck I don’t run a place like that” and right there and then, with my mom, she took her master key and opened up the guys’ room.

The boys staying there were already long gone.  Their room was covered in blood.

[sirhyst]

Dad!fukuzawa x male!reader?? kind of?

Warning: mentions of detransitioning, possibly going back to using deadname, overall struggling with gender identity

Note: this is very much a comfort thing (because I desperately need comfort right now) but if you relate to it, lit. I might do one for Poe since I want to marry that mf but that might come later.

Summary: reader conflicted of whether they want to go back to using their deadname

————————————————————————-

Fukuzawa was at his desk organising documents when you walked in muttering something.

“Anything wrong, my son?” He asked a little concerned. You looked up quickly before blushing.

“S-sorry dad, just thinking about something,” you said softly, clearly avoiding his gaze.

Fukuzawa motioned for you to sit on the couch near his desk. He slowly approached you and sat down.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said in his usual baritone, “but if it’s bothering you a lot, you can tell me,” he gave you a comforting look, at least he tried too.

You pouted and opened your mouth to speak before closing it again.

“I- I’ve been thinking of going back to my deadname,” you said looking at your shaking hands. You had been pondering this for awhile, but was afraid to take that step forward. Fukuzawa had been the most supportive parent ever when it came to your initial transition, but you were still afraid.

Fukuzawa noticed your hands trembling and gently patted your head.

“That’s ok,” he paused to chose his next words. “Is the name you chose simply not fitting as well?” He asked genuinely wanting to understand.

“I don’t know,” you let out a shaky sigh, “I just- I don’t know I’m detransitioning or if I just don’t feel like labelling my gender at all?” You looked at the floor, willing yourself not to cry. You both sat in silence. You thinking your dad was disappointed, Fukuzawa simply trying to find the correct words to comfort his child.

“Are you comfortable with me referring to you as my son?” He asked in a kind voice. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Y-yeah,” you smiled softly. Fukuzawa nodded and rubbed your back.

“You can always tell me if you change your mind, I’m here to help you, my boy- uh-“ he froze up at his slip. You giggled and hugged him, “it’s fine dad, thank you,” he exhaled in relief and hugged you back.

“What brought this on?” He asked, trying his best to sound unthreatening.

“I don’t know, i still like masculine titles but I also like feminine ones as well,” you pursed your lips, trying to explain better. “I want to be someone’s ‘boyfriend’ but i also liked when Kunikida-kun used to call me ‘little miss’”

“I don’t entirely feel like a boy or a girl,” you sighed and leaned on him. He gently placed an arm around you.

“I think I understand,” he nods, “but if I ever make a mistake in how I address you, tell me,” he kisses the top of your head, it was something he had started doing with you and Ranpo. It was the last thing anyone would expect the ex-assassin to do, but he wanted to show you he loved you very much.

You nodded and smiled softly. Your dad was always trying his best, even if he didn’t know all the terms and labels, he wanted to do his best for you. You felt nervous though…

Nervous that perhaps this wasn’t going to work…

Nervous that you’d be back at square one if you make this change…

Nervous that your deadname will only bring back the horrid memories from ‘then’…

Nervous…nervous…nervous…

But Fukuzawa, ‘Dad’, brought you back to the present.

“You’ll be ok, don’t see this as a setback“ he said snapping you out of your mental battle with yourself.

“See it as, learning more about yourself. If you want to look more feminine or masculine, then that’s your decision but I will do what I can to help you,” he tapped your shoulder gently. You nodded and sat quietly before looking at him.

“Dad,” he looked at you with the softest eyes.

“Thank you,” he smiled softly and you hugged your dad tightly.

‘Dad’ who did his best to make you feel comfortable…

‘Dad’ who would tap your shoulder whenever he saw a pride flag on the street…

‘Dad’ who would help you find a ball gown or a suit if that’s what you wanted to wear…

‘Dad’ who saw you as a treasure, regardless of your gender…

His baby…

————————————————————————-

[ave-aria]

DP Shiptember Day 3: Confession.

(This one was very late. Shhh)

-

“Hey Phantom,” Valerie said, approaching him in the field near Casper High. “Playing with your pesky dog again?”

Danny tensed, slightly, then eased up as he saw she was in civilian form, her backpack slung over one shoulder, no weapons in sight. His reaction was more of a reflex than anything. They’d made a truce over three weeks ago - and while they were both wary, it finally seemed to be sticking, this time.

Rolling her eyes, Val dropped her backpack on the sidewalk and approached Cujo. “You know, for a mangy mutt, he’s kinda cute when he’s little like this,” she admitted after a moment.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “Cujo’s got the puppy dog eyes down pat.”

“Cujo, huh.” Valerie huffed, as the dog trotted up to her without a care in the world. His tail wagged. Reluctantly, she bent to scratch under his chin. “Hey, if you named him Cujo, why does this little troublemaker have an ‘A’ on his collar?”

Aaaand the tenseness was back in his shoulders.

“You don’t already know?” Phantom asked, keeping his guard up.

“Sure,” Valerie drawled. “I always ask questions when I already know the answer.”

“But I’ve been trying to tell you for months--” He started, then snapped his mouth shut. If Val didn’t already know, then that meant...

Val raised an eyebrow at him, then crossed her arms. “Well?” she asked. “I’m waiting.”

Phantom held his breath, looking her over, then let it out in a sigh.

“Valerie,” he began, “Cujo’s not my dog--” he sighed. “--He’s yours.”

A pause.

“Run that by me again?” Valerie said.

“--Well, not yours, exactly,” Phantom corrected himself. “He belongs to your dad. Or--to Axiom Labs, actually.”

He gathered Cujo in his arms and brought him over, adjusting the pup’s collar. Valerie leaned in, a frown pinching her eyebrows together as she examined the tag. Axiom Lab’s Signature “A” sat proud on the front side, metallic blue, and their logo, an atomic symbol, marked the reverse.

“That... is Axiom Lab’s logo,” Valerie conceded at last. She let go, leaning back. “But I don’t think they have dogs?”

“They don’t. Anymore.” Phantom said. “Axiom got rid of them. Replaced them with--” he hesitated. “An automated security system,” he settled on at last.

She looked at him, her eyes locked on his face.

“You mean my Dad’s,” she said, after a moment.

Phantom reluctantly nodded.

Valerie’s face was unreadable. She seemed conflicted, looking down at Cujo with something mixed in her eyes. Cujo, confused, tilted his head back and forth.

“So, what,” Valerie huffed at last. “You’re saying this is some kind of messed up Karma?”

Phantom tensed. “What?” he asked, though he had an inkling where this was going.

“--That my Dad’s security system put this dog out of work,” she elaborated, balling her fists. “And so it’s just natural that the dog would turn up and wreck Axiom labs in return? That it was my dad’s own fault for losing his job? That he deserved it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Phantom said.

“Well, good, cause he didn’t deserve it!” Valerie snapped. Cujo whined when she started to pace. “ - I mean it’s not like my Dad was out to get the dog or anything, Phantom! He was just doing his job! Minding his own business! What right does this ghost dog have to just, to just swoop in, snarling, trying to exact some kind of messed up revenge--”

“Actually he was just looking for his squeaky toy,” Danny said.

Again, Valerie stopped in her tracks.

Phantom reached into his belt pouch and pulled out the bear toy, giving it a squeak. Cujo’s head immediately snapped towards it, his glowing ears perked up.

“He’s just a dog, Valerie,” Danny reminded her.

Valerie stared at Cujo for a long moment. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, watching as Cujo snatched the toy from Danny’s hand and shook it, making it Squee-a-sQUEE-a-squEAK; but after a minute, her defensive posture slowly melted, her eyes going soft and sad.

“He’s just a dog,” Valerie repeated, voice wavering.

Phantom sighed. “Listen, Valerie,” he began. It was a little hard to have a serious conversation as the pup kept squeaking the toy, but he did his best. “It’s not your fault, or your dad’s fault, or mine, or anybody’s. Sometimes bad things just happen. And I’m sorry. I wish I could fix it.” He scratched Cujo behind the ear. “I just want you to know I didn’t, like, train him to attack you or anything.”

“I know,” she sighed, reaching up to scratch the dog’s ear too. “I just hate it, that’s all.”

“I mean, if you want someone to blame, I guess we can slap that on Axiom Labs. They didn’t have to put their dogs down, or fire your dad, or anything.” Phantom shrugged. He paused when he saw Valerie’s eye twitch. “What?”

“They--put him down?” Valerie repeated, looking at Cujo.

“Valerie...” Phantom gave Val an uncertain look. “He’s a ghost. What did you think happened?”

Her eyes flickered from Cujo, to Phantom, then back, frozen. Cujo looked back at her, then furiously squee-ee-squee-eeee-EAK’ed his chew toy, shaking it hard. It dropped out of his jaws, flopping to the ground. Cujo stared down at it, for a long moment, then looked up at Valerie, tail wagging.

Valerie stared at Cujo, then sighed. “C’mere, you little troublemaker,” she murmured, gathering him from Phantom’s arms before Danny could object. Cujo seemed perfectly happy to be in her arms; he liked her, for what it was worth. He didn’t even like Sam as much as he liked Valerie.

Val scratched his ear, looking sad. “Sorry pup,” she said. “Shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’ve been trying to be better about that.”

Cujo licked her fingers, then barked.

She bent and gathered the toy from the ground, waving it in his face. “I guess I never thought about it,” she said at last. “--That you’re ghosts. That you died.”

“Well.” Phantom hesitated.

“I didn’t want to think about it.” Valerie said. “The truth is, I just wanted my revenge.”

Phantom didn’t know what to say.

“Well.” Valerie said. “If he’s my dog, I suppose I should take some responsibility, shouldn’t I?”

“I mean, you might have to settle for joint custody.” Phantom’s lips quirked, kniwing how Cujo sought him out any time he escaped the Zone. “But I’m sure we can work something out. He likes you.”

“Oh, does he, now?” Valerie put Cujo down on the ground, then waved the squeaky toy. “You want it? You want it, boy?” she asked, squeaking it erratically. Cujo barked, down on all fours. Reeling back, she tossed the toy across the field, and Cujo was off like a shot.

Sighing, Valerie turned to Phantom. “Forgive me?”

Phantom clasped her hands. ‘Nothing to forgive.” He assured. “But, uh.”

"Hm?”

“You, uh, might want to brace yourself.”

“...For what.”

Cujo came bounding back, in full ten-foot hulking guard dog form.

Danny reached out and made her intangible, (--in an amazing display of trust, she LET him--) and Cujo, going in for the tackle, phased right through her.

“He kind of gets over excited about his squeaky toy.”

“Ah.” Valerie said, sighing. “I should’ve known.”

[elisysd]

50. I trace the evidence, make it make some sense, why the wound is still bleedin'

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Hits Different - Taylor Swift

It was pouring rain. No matter where she wanted to go, Julia was met with gigantic puddles, soaking her shoes. She was on her way to the Ferrari’s facility to see her boyfriend right before he had to go to the media pen for his interviews. Boyfriend. It was still something she wasn’t very comfortable using. Don’t get her wrong, she liked him, she liked his comforting presence, the way he was easy to talk to, the way he made her feel secure, how everything was predictable and she had to admit, a bit boring. But it wasn’t a bad thing for her. She liked it this way. It was nice. They didn’t argue all the time, she didn’t have to question what he was doing half the time because he was always making sure she knew, he was always careful with her, looking after her whenever he could. She felt seen, cared for.

But his kisses didn’t make her shiver, she didn’t want to lock herself in a room with him whenever he was looking at her, she didn’t want to plan a future with him and it made her feel awful and unfair. Martin was a good guy. A really nice guy who was doing everything he could to make her happy. And maybe she just needed time, maybe she wasn’t completely over Ethan and maybe jumping into another relationship without taking the time to reflect on herself had been a mistake. But despite everything, she didn’t want to put an end to whatever was going on with Martin. She wanted to try. She wanted to give this a chance, she wanted to know what a nice relationship was supposed to be and Martin was showing it to her. She owed him to try to fall in love. She owed it to herself.

She was so focused on avoiding the puddles that she didn’t see the white jumper in front of her and collided into it. She swore under her breath before meeting two chocolate eyes that looked at her with a bright smile.

“My, my, my… Isn’t it Miss Julia Leclerc that I see, right in front of me?”

“Niels? Oh my God, it’s been so long!”

“It has been indeed.” smiled the Skoda driver.

“I would love to say that we should meet up later for a coffee, but I’m a bit busy right now.”

“It’s fine, we will have the time to catch up soon, anyway.” he winked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… It’s not official but your dad approached me a few weeks ago to offer me Elijah’s seat. And I said, yes.”

Julia gasped and threw her arms around the neck of the driver, almost making him fall backwards.

“I’m so happy for you! You deserve it so much! And Noah? How are you guys doing?”

She saw him wince which made her worry.

“It’s over. It was nice while it lasted but I guess we were too different. Or more he was not fully ready to come out. And it’s fine, I don’t want him to feel like he had to.”

“Maybe it won’t be over forever…”

Niels shrugged and looked at the time.

“I really have to go or our good old Wilhelm will make my life like hell. It’s kind of already the case since I’m moving to Ferrari. Your dad not only bought your contract back, he bought mine as well. You should have seen Will’s face. I’ve never seen him this red. I thought he was about to explode. And I think a chair didn’t survive the phone call with your dad, but you didn’t hear it from me.” he added with a wink.

She smiled, happy to see him and it brought a wave of memories. Her first time on a track as an engineer for Skoda, her first meeting with the boys, her first encounter with Ethan and the whole fake dating plan. Her happy smile turned bitter and she excused herself, not without promising Niels to get a coffee together soon to catch up.

She got to the Ferrari hospitality completely drenched and shivering and let out a sigh of relief when she was handed a bowl of soup. She went to sit in a corner, waiting for Martin to be done with the sponsoring activities so they could get the hell out of here. She wasn’t feeling comfortable at the idea of crossing paths with Ethan or with Kyle or Ludwig. Even Romy would feel weird when she was her best friend.  And she was dreading their first paddock walk as a couple. She was well aware of how people were going to perceive the fact that now she was with Martin when a month ago or so, she was right next to Ethan. She knew the names she was going to get called. And truth be told, she couldn’t blame them. She had already put her social networks private and blocked her tags to prevent the hate to be written under her posts. And now, she only hoped for the best.

Lost in thoughts, she didn’t see nor hear Martin coming behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, taking place next to her.

“Nothing interesting.” she smiled, looking away from him.

“Julia. When we decided to try this you promised you would always talk about things no matter how stupid or useless you thought they would be.”

She sighed, biting her lips and closing her eyes.

“I’m just thinking about what people will say when they notice we’re together. That’s all.” she admitted.

“Will their thoughts change anything for us? Will you stop what we are trying to build because people talk?”

“I’m trying to stop caring so much about others' opinions but… it’s years of coping mechanisms to unlearn. I can’t stop caring just like that.” she explained.

“Why can’t you?”

“Because… I don’t know. That’s not how I live? That’s not how I built myself to be? I’ve always acted according to what people were expecting from me. Because if people liked me enough, then I don’t need to fear being left alone or cast aside. But… all in all, I think I’ve never let anyone being close enough from me to get to know the real me and I think, if I’m one hundred percent honest that I don’t know exactly who the real me is, and I want to find out so bad but I don’t know where to start.” she confessed.

“Well, first you need to stop thinking, Juls. That’s the problem with you, you overthink your slightest move. Try being carefree for once, you’ll see how good it feels.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” she replied with sarcasm, arching an eyebrow.

“You trust me, for starters.”

Ethan was coming to Germany with a clear goal: making people forget about Canada which wasn’t the easiest thing to do when all questions during the press conference were about it. But following Sofia’s advice who had not left his side, he had answered every single one of them with a calm attitude that surprised him a lot. Coming out of the press conference he was proud of himself and the smile his therapist gave him as well as the pat on his back made him beam with joy.

The free practices on Friday went even better than what he expected with a competitive car which was matching Ferrari’s and Audi’s pace. He was feeling good, confident as if nothing could stop him this weekend. Nothing.Not even the sight of Martin’s arm around Julia as he was on his way to the Maserati’s hospitality right before the start of the qualifying.  Of course he didn’t like to see it. Of course, we wanted nothing more but to run to them with a snark remark, to rile up Julia, to see her looking at him with angry eyes and tell him to fuck off. But now, he knew better. And he had a pole position to take.

Inside of his car, a few seconds before he was about to hear his race engineer through the radio, he locked out everything. Every noise, every thought in his mind. He put down his visor, looked straight ahead of him and when it was time to push on the throttle, he did it confidently.

The track was wet after it had rained the whole morning but he didn’t care. Since he started his career in F1, three years ago, he never had a sunny race weekend in Germany. He liked the rain, he liked the danger it was bringing, he liked the way he had to be perfect. It was thrilling. It was making him alive. He got through the Q1, without difficulty, managing a nice P5, right behind both Ferrari, Romy’s Audi and Ludwig’s Lamborghini. He was a bit surprised to see Kyle getting through the session as P15 and wondered if there had been a problem with his car or if it was something medical. He hoped not. It was Romy’s homerace, he didn’t want her weekend to be ruined because something would happen to her boyfriend. But he didn’t have much time to think about it as the next part was about to start. This time he thought he was going to not make it after he slipped and almost lost the rear in the last sector.

“Are we through?” he asked on the radio.

“P10, Ethan. Good job. Fastest second sector. That saved your ass.” his engineer replied.

He sighed and looked at the board. Martin was P1, followed by Ludwig and Romy. Kyle was just in front of him with his P9. Something was definitely wrong with him. Sure, he didn’t like to race in rainy conditions, and now they could also add the wind that was going to make the Q3 more than interesting, but still. Kyle was good and consistent in every race conditions. Rarely as far away from his teammate.  He shook his head. Now was not the right time to lose focus.

As he thought so, the Q3 was messy. At some point he saw Ludwig in the grass after he probably slipped and missed the apex. But Ethan was doing more than okay, for the first time in months and maybe even in his whole career, he felt like was making one with the car. That it was doing everything he wanted. Every curve, every sector, every line felt like he was flying and when he crossed the line he knew that he had just done the lap of his life.

“Ethan, you’re on pole for tomorrow? You did it, my boy.”

“No way!! No fucking way!! Thanks guys. Thank you for believing in me. Our first pole and it’s together. I wouldn’t wish it differently.”

He parked the car and got out as Romy was doing the same. She would start P2, as Ludwig would be P3. They both came to him and Romy hugged him quickly as Ludwig gave him a half smile and shook his hand.

“Well deserved, man.”

“Thanks Lu…”

He headed to the interviewing zone where he watched on the side his friends answering questions until it was his time.

“Ethan, what a lap. It seems like the summer break worked wonders on you.”

“Seems like it, yeah. To say that I was expecting this result would be lying but I’m very proud of the team and the upgrades they brought for the last part of the season. I know all the work they did behind the scenes and to be on pole today is an amazing reward.”

“What do you expect for tomorrow?”

“We definitely have the car to fight for the win but I know Audi and Romy are very strong and I know she will be determined to race fiercely tomorrow to make her country proud. So I think we can expect a nice fight with her. Lamborghini is also in the fight and obviously Ferrari, so we’ll see.”

“First pole of your career. Is there someone you want to dedicate it to?”

He let out a silent laugh. He looked at the journalist who was wearing a playful smile on her face and then, he looked straight to the lens of the camera. If she wanted to play with him, then he would give the media something to talk about.

“This is for Sofia. She knows who she is.” he winked before thanking the journalist and left.

When he finally walked into the Maserati’s hospitality he was welcomed with a burst of joy and sparkling water. Everyone was congratulating him, giving him nice pats on the back and whispering words of pride to him. It was as if Canada never happened.

“P1, Ethie!! Pole position for you, my friend!” smiled Chloe, forcing her to bend down so she could throw her arms around his neck.

“Please, never call me that ever again.” he whined as she laughed.

“Why? It’s cute!”

“No. It’s not.”

“Too bad, because I like it. Ethie.”  she winked at him before leaving.

He then walked to Sofia, who was alone in a corner of the room, her notebook pressed against her chest and her blond hair in an elegant updo. Her natural elegance was contrasting with the roughness of the place.

“Dedicating the pole to me? Really?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Why? Didn’t you like it?”

“I would prefer to know why you did it?”

“I wanted to play.” he shrugged.

“You sure it doesn’t have any link with Julia and the fact  that she is here with her new boyfriend? You didn’t want to make her feel jealous?”

“Maybe, yes. I hope it worked. At least a little bit.”

She was not a little bit jealous. She was very jealous. She was seething. But she couldn’t show it. Who was Sofia? Was she the blonde she had already seen at his place? Was she his new girlfriend? She had seen on the screen how playful he looked, how peaceful. She had seen the gleam in his eyes, a gleam that had only been there when she was next to him.

She didn’t hear Martin coming to her and debriefing his qualifying. Truth be told, she didn’t care much. She wanted to get out of here, she wanted some fresh air and she wanted to be alone. She didn’t listen to him when he called out her name, only passed through the door. The rain was there. And the wind too. There was not a shadow outside, everyone was busy.

She had no right to feel hurt or to feel jealous. Absolutely none. She was trying to move on, so did he. She was feeling the rain soaking her hair and infiltrating her clothes. She was going to be sick, she knew that but that was the last one of her worries. Her feet carried her to the Maserati’s hospitality, as if it was a joke from fate. She could see the lights and if she closed her eyes, the laughter. They were celebrating Ethan’s pole. She gulped. She should’ve been there. It was her place, where she was supposed to belong. Next to him, watching him being happy. Not outside, freezing to death.

Despite herself, she imagined the blonde woman next to him, her perfect manicured hands around his neck, her plush lips on his, his hands around her waist whispering sweet nothings to her. She imagined him doing everything he had done to her. She imagined him being happy with someone else and she felt sick.

She was about to turn away when she heard someone shouting her name.

“Julia? What are you doing here?”

Chloe was standing in the opening of the patio door, a glass of fruit juice in her hand.

“I don’t know if I’m being honest. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Ethan is inside! I can get him if you want to say congrats.”

“Chloe, I…”

But the redhead was already gone. She could have left but it was as if her feet were glued to the ground. She couldn’t move. He soon appeared before her, an umbrella in his hand.

“Chloe told me you were here to congratulate me on the pole. Shouldn’t you be with Martin to kiss away his tears?”

“I didn’t come here for that,” she blurted out.

“So, why are you here?”

“Because… because…” and that’s when she saw her, looking through the window. The blonde girl. Sofia. “Nevermind. Your girlfriend is watching us.”

“Sofia? Yeah, she sticks to me like glue. She understands me. She gets me. The real me.”

“Good.” she replied, a bit harshly, clenching her jaw so hard she was scared she wouldn’t be able to move it.

“You don’t seem happy. Is Mister Perfect not what you expected? Is he as boring as he looks?”

“I’m happy! He is great! Not that it’s any of your business.” she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Can he make you feel as good as I did? Does he know your body as well as I do?”

He took a step towards her, slowly leaning to her, his lips brushing her ear. She didn’t dare to move, instead she locked eyes with Sofia and didn’t try to look away. She was hot and the raindrops on her skin felt like burns.

“Does he know that when I bite that birthmark right under your left thigh, you let out the most erotic sound? Does he know you like it rough? I bet he doesn’t. I bet he is not very creative in that area. I bet he is boring. I bet he is the type to plan your nights together. I bet he can’t even make you come.”

She wanted to reply. She wanted to say that he was wrong. But she couldn’t lie. The truth was, she didn’t know what it would be with Martin. They were not intimate. Not yet. He wanted to wait, to make sure she was ready and if she was honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to have sex with him. And that was making her feel so bad about herself. She felt like a monster.

Ethan pulled away and looked at her. She didn’t need to say anything for him to read her like she was an open book. He laughed.

“You should go. You’re going to catch a cold. And I have someone who will be more than happy to take care of me for the next few hours. I would have lent you the umbrella but I have to prioritize my health. I can’t risk getting sick. I’m starting on pole tomorrow. See you around. And say hi to your dad from me.”

Coming back to the Ferrari’s hospitality, her first thought was to find Martin. Ethan had managed to get into her head once again and to make her feel insecure. She hated how much control he had over her. She erupted in Martin’s driver’s room as he was changing. She closed the door in one swift move before locking it. He gave her a weird look, surprised by her sudden outburst and a look even weirder when she rushed to him and forced him to sit on the couch as she straddled him before kissing him like she had never kissed him before.

She felt him tense as she sneaked her freezing hands under his shirt to throw it away, barely leaving him enough time to catch his breath. She then attacked his neck with her kisses and when she felt him not reacting she pulled away.

“Am I not attractive enough?”

“What? Where does this come from?”

“You have no reactions! Am I doing something wrong? Don’t you like it?”

She was removing herself from him as she looked in the mirror, trying to not cry. She saw him coming slowly to her, almost careful as if she was about to run away. Slowly he put an arm around her waist as his lips found her ear.

“I was just surprised. That’s all. You’re doing everything right, I promise.” he whispered, nibbling her earlobe before moving to her neck as she let out a sigh of content.

She turned to him with a fiery look on her face. She didn’t let him have the time to say something as she pushed him back to where he was on the couch and getting in the same position she had been previously, but this time Martin was ready. He got her closer, firmly against him, as she ran her hands on his chest. She was determined to prove Ethan’s wrong, that he was not the only man who could make her feel nice.

“Are you sure?” he whispered as he laid her down on the couch, towering over her.

“Please, I need it.”

But she didn’t feel anything. And it was not because Martin was bad, far from it. His touches and his words were pleasant. He was careful with her, making sure she was alright every step of the way but it simply didn’t work out. And as he was trying his best to make her come undone beneath him she was forced to admit that it wouldn’t lead anywhere.

“Stop. Just… can you.. I can’t… it’s not working.” she breathed as he obeyed her and she swore she saw a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. “I’m sorry…. I don’t know why I can’t…”

“It’s fine. It’s okay. Maybe it’s not the right setting, maybe you’re not in the right mood, maybe I’m not doing it right. We’ll learn, Juls. Will get there. Practice makes perfect.” he smiled, trying to light up the mood.

“But I want it to work now! Why isn’t it the case? I don’t want Ethan to be the only guy who…”

“Ethan?” he repeated. “Why are you mentioning him?”

“Martin… I’m sorry it's just a slip of the tongue.”

“You went to him. Tell me I’m wrong.” he said.

In front of her silence, Martin drew his conclusions.

“Am I just a distraction for you, Julia?”

“It’s… I…” she stuttered not knowing what to say or how to reply, knowing full well it would be just a bunch of lies coming out of her mouth.

“I know you’re not there yet. I know you don’t share the same feelings as I have for you. It’s fine, I accepted it. I accepted you needed time and I’m willing to offer it to you. To go at your own pace but we can’t move forward if you cling to him every chance you get. That’s not fair for me.”

“I know… I didn’t plan to, I swear it just happened. I didn’t want to see him but he was there and he said some stuff that got into my head and I wanted to prove him wrong and…”

“I’m not your mean to your end, Julia. I’m not a pawn to be used whenever you want. I’m sorry. It’s best if I go back to the hotel. Alone. I don’t want to say something I will regret. We’ll talk later.”

He unlocked the door, leaving her cold and feeling like the worst human being on earth on the sofa.

When he came to her room the next day, before leaving for the track, he found her, eyes puffy and red. He didn’ hesitate before taking her in his arms, kissing the side of her head and whispering he was not mad. A little hurt, but not mad.

“I swear I’m trying, Martin. I want to give you a chance but I don’t know how long it will take for me to get there.”

“You’re trying. That’s what matters to me. The rest is not important. Let’s go, I have a race to win.” he added with a smile, taking her hand in his.

Ethan wasn’t sleeping. He was just resting his eyes for a bit. He could hear the hustle bustle of the crowd in the paddock and was trying his best to focus. He usually liked to be alone before the race. It was easier to focus. He didn’t expect Sofia to knock on his door and to enter the room before he even had the chance to say come in.

“How are you feeling?”

“Unexpectedly fine. Like, I thought I would be stressed out because it’s my first pole and the stakes are high but, I’m good. I can’t wait to be in the car. I know what I’m supposed to do, I know the strategy. I’m ready. I feel like I’m going to win and nothing can stop me. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s a gut feeling.”

“Good to hear but I was asking in general. How do you feel about Julia being there, with her new boyfriend, when she told you she needed time for herself. Do you feel like you’ve been lied to? Played with?”

“You don’t choose to fall in love, doc. I know that. I can’t blame her. Does it hurt? A whole fucking lot. Am I jealous? I want to punch him in the face. Will I act on it? Nope. I want to get better, I’m better than that. And I think a part of me wants Julia to regret breaking up with me. I want to prove to her that she made the wrong choice. Is it stupid?”

“No. You love her. But maybe you should also accept that she is happy with someone else.”

“She is not. I know what she looks like when she is happy. And I swear she is not. She is faking it. I don’t know why, I don’t understand why she would feel the need to sabotage herself like that.”

“Some people need to hit a wall at full speed, to take an image that you will understand, to face reality. She needs to hit rock bottom. I can’t say much about her, I would need to talk to her for that but that’s what I can observe. And before you ask, you can’t help her, she needs to open her eyes by herself.”

Ethan nodded, even if the perspective of having to witness Julia throwing away what he considered, without pretension, being the most beautiful thing that could have happened to her wasn’t making him particularly happy. But he didn’t have much time to think about it as it was soon the time for him to settle in his car.

On his way to the garage he came face to face with a defeated Kyle.

“Lamborghini’s garage is this way, bro.”

“I’m not racing. I failed the eyesight test. The doctor doesn’t allow me to get in the car. Too risky.”

“Damn bro… I’m sorry, for you.”

“Yeah… Well, it’s like that. I’m going to support my girlfriend next to her dad. He is so freaking scary! We had dinner yesterday after quali, and I swore he tried to break my hand. He looked like an adorable golden retriever in pictures but that’s only in pictures!”

“I mean, you shouldn’t be surprised. That’s exactly how Romy is. When you look at her you could never imagine she was this ruthless on tracks. Like father, like daughter.”

“Romy is adorable, shut up.” Kyle defended her.

“She is only adorable with you, mate.” laughed Ethan. “Well, I have to go… cheer for me and Ludwig as well. Bros before…”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, asshole.” smiled Kyle as Ethan gave him a hug before leaving him there.

It was a weird feeling to have no one in front of him on the starting grid. A feeling like he was the only one in the world. Nothing mattered besides him and the track. He knew each curve, each line by heart, each tricky corner. He only had to focus on what he knew best and it would all be okay. A few raindrops were falling on his visor, which made him smile. At least he wouldn’t be caught in traffic and in the potential mess the start would be if rain was starting to intensify.

And finally it was lights out. He knew he had taken a perfect start but surprisingly, Romy as well. He smiled. She definitely worked on her starts. It was going to be a tough race. One he was ready to drive. A few laps later, they both had managed to distance the rest of the grid, it was just him and her.

“Ethan, box next lap.” said his race engineer.

“I can still go a few more laps with the ones I have.”

“We know but we want to force her to box.”

Ethan sighed but didn’t try to argue and did exactly what was expected from him. He was careful to not go too fast in the pitlane, it was not the time to get a penalty or to give the FIA any reasons to investigate him. They did a nice pitstop and Ethan got out right behind Martin. He didn’t dare to try to scare him, only overtook him in the cleanest way he could have done and much to his surprise, Martin didn’t even try to put up a fight. Soon the Ferrari was only a red spot in his rearview mirrors. He pushed on the throttle. It was time to catch up on Romy and take what was his.

“Five laps to go, Ethan. Pace is good, tires look fine, you can go all in.”

“Gap to Romy.”

“Two point three seconds. You’re zero point one fifty faster. She is managing her tires.”

“Copy.”

And he did exactly what he was told to do. Soon, Romy’s Audi was in front of him. There were two laps left to race and he could feel the tension in his body. It was now or never. He got into her slipstream and waited for the perfect opportunity to attack her. But she was a brilliant and smart driver, not hesitating to change her trajectory, flirting with the limits and with the rules. When his two first tries were unsuccessful, he decided to wait until the very last corners. He wanted to pressure her, to push her to make a mistake, forcing her to degrade her tires as he was calmly managing his. And now, it was the last line. It was time to try something, so when she least expected it he got out from behind her and went side to side, pushing on the throttle with everything he had as she was doing the exact same thing until he saw the checkering flag being waved. The race was done, he was on the podium, the first one since Paris. But he didn’t know about the results.

“Photo finish, Ethan. There is a doubt.”

“For fuck sake! How come!”

“We don’t want to sound too sure but we think you’re P1, mate. Don’t start to celebrate too soon, though.”

He didn’t care. If his team was saying he was P1, that he had won the race, his first race, then he trusted the team. The P1 and P2 signs had been removed as he parked his car next to Romy’s as Martin was following him on the P3. He looked at Romy who was crying in the arms of her dad and mom, the German flag draped around her shoulders. Kyle was on the side, a beaming smile on his face. Ethan frowned and went to his team that had a dark look on their faces.

“Audi is saying that Romy won.”

“But she didn’t! You said you were sure that the win was ours!”

“The FIA has to give us the proof right now, I don’t know what they are waiting for.”

“Trafficking the results?” Ethan asked, angry.

“Ethan…” his team principal tried to call him as he was furiously walking to the German clan.

But he was already next to Romy who had tears streaming down her face and a proud smile on her face. He felt bad for one second but he had to be sure.

“Did you get anything from the FIA to start celebrating?” he asked a little too harshly.

“I mean…  I don’t need the photo finish to know that I won, Ethan…” she explained, sure of herself.

“Really? Because I think you should. Maserati is sure that the win is mine.”

“Ethan… her front wing was a little ahead of you. I saw it.” said Kyle coming near him as if he could sense that Ethan was about to blow up.

“With all due respect Kyle, I don’t trust your eyesight today.” Ethan replied.

“Now you’re being unfair!”

“Unfair? I’m not the one celebrating when we are not sure of anything and…” he was interrupted by a protocol officer who forced them to the cool room, away from everyone.

Inside, Ethan saw straight away Romy’s face on the number one and his on the number two as the finish was replaying on the screen side by side with the photo finish where indeed, Romy’s front wing was ahead for a little centimeter. He felt his world shatter beneath his feet. He had lost fair and square, he knew but it didn’t make the pill less hard to swallow. He tried to keep a straight face, he would let the camera catch his disappointment and his bitterness.

“Ethan…” Romy came to him, to apologize he guessed but he brushed her off.

“Congrats. I don’t have anything to add.”

He went to sit on the chair and at the very last second, decided to go to the one meant for the winner. Was it petty and unnecessary? For sure and he caught Romy’s look on him when he sat as she decided to stay in the corner, watching highlights of the race. She still had her German flag around her shoulders, playing with the corners.

“That was still a beautiful fight.” said Martin, in an attempt to appease the tension.

“Would have been even more beautiful if I had been at the top of the podium.” replied Ethan, loud enough for Romy to hear and for the microphones in the room as well.

And soon it was time for the podium. Ethan had never thought he would say it but he was dreading it. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to fake being happy with a second place when he should have been standing on the highest step. Martin was the first to come out of the room, under the screams of the Tifosi who were there. And then it was him, he didn’t hear a sound, too much in his own bubble and when he got to the podium he almost decided to make one petty move and stand on the first step but he couldn’t do that to Romy, she didn’t deserve it. It was still a win in her home country, he knew how important that was. His eyes fell on the crowd and on the sea of red grouped in a corner. Julia was standing next to her father but unlike what he expected she wasn’t looking at Martin, she was looking at him. And he swore he could see her smile from there. A smile that was only for him. It made his day a little less shitty than it had been until now.

Romy standing next to him and the crowd roaring and cheering for her made him snap out of his thoughts. The German anthem resonated, people singing along as he could hear Romy doing the same, tears streaming down her face. And when finally he received his trophy he had a hard time accepting it, even considering to refuse it. He put it on the side as he saw a hand in front of his eyes. He looked up to Romy who was smiling.

“You’re an idiot but come here. You deserve to stand there as much as me.”

“No. I don’t. When I’ll be there, it will be because I won a race not because someone pitied me.” he replied, refusing to stand next to her as she tried to drag him to her but failed. He heard her sighed but didn’t budge.

Not even the champagne made him smile and as soon as he had seen he could leave, he did, leaving his trophy there. He wanted to forget this race ever happened.

“Ethan! You forgot your trophy.” Romy said, running to him.

“I don’t care, I don’t want it.”

“Oh, come on. Now you’re just being petty!”

“Petty! Do you know how important winning was for me? Converting this pole into a win? After all the shitshow Canada had been? All the bad press? All the doubts and criticism about my talent?  All the comparisons with my dad? You, better than anyone out there, should understand it.”

“Admit that half of the bad stuff that happened to you, you brought them upon yourself, Ethan.”

“Excuse me for not being like the overprotected perfect little princess Romy!”

“Ethan, enough.” Kyle's voice echoed from the other side of the corridor.

“Dare to say the opposite, Dawson! She has always been sheltered! By her last name, by her team principal, now by you!” he erupted.

“You don’t know half the things I went through in my life, Ethan! You hate being associated with your dad, don’t you dare doing the same with me!” Romy came forward, as Kyle was about to reply.

“Your dad comes to your races at least. It’s not the case for some of us.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an ass, he would come more. Maybe, your behavior is shameful to him. Have you ever thought about it? Maybe if people are giving up on you, it’s because you’re the problem.” she spat at him.

She pushed him out of her way with such a force that he stumbled a little. He turned to Kyle who looked at him and looked at where Romy was a few moments ago.

“That was unnecessary, Ethan.”

“Because what she told me was necessary? You’re not serious? I thought you, out of all people, would be on my side!”

“I’m not on anyone's side…” Kyle defended.

“Sure, you’re not. You know what? Fuck off, Dawson.” Ethan said, leaving as well.

He wanted peace and quiet to calm down before the press conference. He rolled his eyes when he noticed Julia, leaning against the wall.

“Martin has already left.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Why? Do you want to tell me how an asshole I am, too? I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, you know that already. You’ve always been one, it shouldn’t surprise anyone.’ she smiled.

“What do you want, Julia? I’m not in the mood.”

“You deserved that first place. You pulled the perfect weekend together. That lap in qualifying was outstanding and that final lap behind Romy, staying behind her until the very last moment? That was brilliant. I know this is not what you want to hear, but you can be proud of yourself. For all it’s worth, I am. If breaking up was what it took for you to explode on the track then, it helps me to heal…” she told him.

He didn’t know what to say or how to reply. Instead he nodded, leaving her there. Her words touched him more than he wanted to admit. She cared. Despite everything, she cared. It might not be much but it meant a lot to him. Maybe not everything was broken, maybe there was still a chance, after all.

The press conference’s atmosphere was heavy. Romy was sitting as far away from Ethan as possible, Ethan wanted to be anywhere but here and Martin felt out of place.

“So, question for all of you, how did you feel when you understood that we wouldn’t  know straight away who won?”

“Well, some of us were more sure of their win than others… right Romy?” Ethan started.

“I had that feeling, yeah. Like you thought you'd won as well.”

“To me, I was very happy with my third place, both of them raced amazingly. I was a little more concerned with how long the FIA took to show us the photo finish. They are supposed to give it straight away but failed to do so…” said Martin, trying to divert the attention from the two drivers.

“Are you saying that they did it on purpose?” the journalist asked.

“I’m not saying such things. I have no proof. I’m just saying that it’s weird it falls on Ethan when we know the FIA has him in its sights since Canada. And I’m not a man who believes in coincidences.”

“You are insinuating that there would have been any other drivers, they would have provided the teams with the proof immediately?”

“I’m not insinuating it. I’m telling you.” he stated calmly and with a smile as, against himself, Ethan chuckled.

When they finally got out of the room, Ethan stayed behind, waiting for Martin who stopped dead in his tracks when he saw him.

“What you did out there, calling out the FIA’s bullshit… that was bold.” said Ethan.

“Someone had to say it. It was just the truth.” Martin shrugged.

“Yeah… but we’re not friends. You could have said that I deserved it.”

“But you don’t. I could have tried to slow you down when you came out of the pits…but you were on another planet out there. You will win. I'm sure of it.”

He was going to leave when Ethan added:

“Martin? Take care of Julia for me. She deserves to be happy.”

Martin half-smiled and nodded, fidgeting with his cap and Ethan saw a glimpse of something he couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes. Was it sadness? He wasn’t sure.

He was tired and his bones were aching when he finally came back to his hotel room. Under the hot shower he couldn’t help but think of Romy and how mean he had been with her. His towel wrapped around his waist he decided to give her a nice bouquet of yellow roses to symbolize their friendship. He called the florist and asked for a delivery. He even was nice enough to add a little card with it: To the queen of Germany. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your day. Your favorite asshole. Ethan. He barely had time to hang up that someone knocked on his door and when he opened, found his two best friends.

“I don’t want you to be mean to each other so now it’s time for you to make up.” announced Ludwig, entering the room as if he owned it.

“I’m sorry I took Romy’s side without considering your feelings… I know how important it is for you to prove them all wrong. And it’s not because I love Romy that I have to forget that I’m supposed to have a clear mind or let my better judgment get affected. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too… I let the anger and frustration get to me and nor Romy or you deserved it. Especially Romy. I sent her flowers… to apologize.” Ethan said.

“She’ll love them. And you're my brother, I love you. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Ethan let Kyle hug him.

“Now that you’re friends again and Kyle understood the concept of bros before hoes, I stole booze. Wanna celebrate friendship by emptying the bottle?” sait Ludwig, getting out the bottle from under his coat.

“You stole booze?” repeated Kyle. “ You know there is a shop down the road where you could have easily bought it, right? Your millionaire’s ass can afford it.”

“I know. But everything tastes better when you get it for free.” he replied, shrugging and Ethan knew that no matter what storm he would come across, he would always have his best friends.

Author's note: Happy new year and we celebrate it with a bang! I really love this chapter. I usually wanted to divide it but I think it makes more sense that way so you have a huge chapter hehe.

What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[koinomegaluvr]

i watched insidious: the red door again with my sister, and it grew on me the second time around despite not knowing how to feel abt it initially.

At first i found the story was underdeveloped (and despite my opinions on the movie changing, i honestly still do feel this way lowkey ghgh) but like. i see exactly what they were trying to do, y’now???

i’ve always rlly enjoyed the insidious franchise, not necessarily because i found it scary, but because the concept of the further was absolutely FASCINATING to me. especially because it’s a place that’s like. an endless limbo that’s reminiscent of liminal horror (and i’m a sucker for that shit)

I rlly liked that they brought in more emotional depth & complexity for the lamberts and how they explore more of how the events of insidious: chapter 2 ultimately affected their family and each individual character.

I immensely enjoyed that they wanted to explore themes of generational trauma and repressed trauma, and how sweeping said trauma under the rug rather than trying to heal and resolve it at its root causes it to fester and ultimately harm everyone involved.

i like how they acknowledged how extremely traumatizing it must have been for renai and the kids to see parker crane josh trying to violently DESTROY them. like there ain’t no way that’s NOT going to have devastating effects on your psyche/marriage when you see what you think is your deranged looking father/husband, trying to beat y’all to death with hammers 😭😭 like i can’t imagine how that must have looked for the kids and i’m glad they explored that

i also really like how (at least in my opinion), the red faced demon and his lair is also kinda symbolic of dalton’s repressed & festering mental illness/trauma with how OBSESSED the demon is with dalton. and how he set up all those “scenes” of dalton’s past which makes him just. remember everything (and that made me feel SAUR BAD for him bc recalling that much repressed trauma would be overwhelming as fuck)

that said, i really feel like they could have executed these themes a lot better, in a way that would make a little bit more sense. during the scene with dalton and josh near the end where they’re in the further trying to close the door, dalton states that they have to stop running from the demon. and there i thought dalton and josh were going to slay the demon together once and for all, but dalton just paints over the door leaving josh in the further by himself and i was like ??????????? 😭😭😭😭 hello???

like. aside from it being a bit anticlimactic, i also don’t think it made very much sense of dalton to just paint over the door when he said they couldn’t run/ignore it anymore. i suppose in a sense, dalton painting over the door in of itself symbolizes that he is trying to break the cycle himself, but honestly? it would have made more sense imo if they somehow tried to relinquish the red face demon together, bc to me that would show that dalton and josh are finally trying to resolve their trauma together by tackling it head on, thus competing their arc more effectively.

i wish they could have introduced josh’s father a bit differently—i know the existence of josh’s dad probably wasnt planned from the beginning, so adding him in was going to be a bit clunky no matter what, but i had a hard time feeling anything at all for him as a character…..

i also wish elise had a bigger role in this rather than making a 5 second cameo at the end of the movie just for the the sake of it, especially since she is what makes insidious such an interesting franchise. but i am SO glad we got a specs and tucker cameo i genuinely teared up seeing them :,)

ANYWAY, overall, i’m quite pleased w the movie, even if certain aspects of it could have been executed better. it definitely isn’t THE BEST insidious movie. i think it had a lot of potential to be excellent. i have WAYY more thoughts abt it that i dont think i can convey in a single post but maybe i’ll talk abt them another time

also. dalton and chris my beloveds 🫰🏼🫰🏼

[kenisle]

rewatched civil war (twice) and damn team iron man was really doomed from the start

tony: driven by rising guilt. goes against previous values and patterns of behavior so he has very little sway with the govt he’s trying to work with. thinks he can convince steve to compromise his beliefs (have you met steve??) just to get what tony wants while unwilling to do the same. also he’s chosen ross as his ally? and doesn’t even think bruce would take his side on the accords/bucky situation? girl if you’re gonna go this hard at least be sure of yourself.

rhodey: already in the government’s pocket. more power with them but less credibility w everyone else.

vision: 2 years old. v little experience with emotions, which are shown to be brought out most strongly by wanda.

peter: 15 years old. how much did tony even tell him? or did he just wave a shiny new suit in front of him?once he sees past the starstruck-ness i highly doubt he’d side w tony. like steve tells him there’s a lot happening that he doesn’t understand and peter’s all “funny mr stark said you’d say that” like yeah girl but uh that doesn’t make it not true lol.

natasha: demonstrably close with steve and others on his team (clint, sam, wanda). defects p much first chance she gets.

tchalla: also defects as soon as he realizes what was really going on. even before then, he clearly only wanted to get bucky, didn’t care abt tony’s mission. realistically prob wouldn’t have submitted to the accords as bp anyway if it wasn’t in wakanda’s best interest. as he should.

meanwhile team cap was SOLID

steve: once bucky’s in danger, it’s over. man’s locked in and will not be stopped by anything short of a bullet to the head. you don’t trust someone without a dark side, tony? this is steve’s “dark” side: his devotion to bucky.

sam: loyal to cap. they may not always agree 100%, but they’ve got each other’s backs. where steve goes, sam goes.

bucky: spends most of the movie running and defending himself bc he’s the main target, but once tony knocks steve down? bucky’s there to stop him and they’re the dream team once more. gets his arm blown off and keeps fighting. to the end of the line.

clint: helping his friends, plain and simple. he believes in the fight, even if he doesn’t seem to take it as seriously as the others (joking around, pulling punches w nat). he gets the job done.

wanda: loyalty most shaky bc of her connection to vision, but she’s also the only one who can overpower him, and she has bonds w clint and steve as well as beef w tony, so she commits when it matters.

scott: happy to be there, backing cap. kinda like sam in catws. “dude captain america needs my help.” total wild card bringing a new power set to the table, which really came in clutch several times in the airport fight. familiar with the flaws of the us justice system and breaking the law to do what’s right. also he made watching the movie way more enjoyable bc he’s comic relief but not in the “smartass sarcastic” way that i’ve gotten tired of. he’s just a goofy dad fighting the good fight with his weird ass contraptions and gizmos. he risked tearing himself in half with a highly experimental maneuver for a distraction. i cannot stress this enough he went full titan mode instead of, say, supersizing a colony of ants, because these guys he just met needed a diversion to avoid being arrested by these other guys he just met (which is what ends up happening to him because he passes the fuck out immediately after)

and while team iron man was backstabbing each other left and right? everyone on team cap was prepared to stay behind and get arrested — insisted on it — so cap and bucky could escape in the quinjet. tony stark you can never again underestimate the power of friendship because it just blew up in your face and demolished your ass.

[picklesonjupiter]

On AO3, for @hp-yuletide-bliss , cw: one smut scene at the end

Excited children and weary parents waited in a long queue to meet Santa Clause, and Harry’s job was to keep the queue moving as quickly as possible. He welcomed parents with sympathetic smiles and guided their children to Santa's lap.

He wore the apparel of a mall elf: bright red bottoms, a polyester green top, and hideous elf shoes. Being a mall elf was the last thing Harry wanted, but money was tight, so he had no choice. Luckily, he didn’t have to suffer on his own, as Malfoy took on the job as well.

Malfoy gave out candy canes after the pictures were taken, smiling and speaking in a saccharine manner. It was shocking to watch Malfoy behave civilly with the so-called plebeians, as he put it. Without the costume, Malfoy was a prissy prat.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think of Malfoy. He had met Malfoy at the campus dormitory during his first year, when he was moving in, and he hadn’t particularly liked his demeanor. It was a shame since Malfoy was just his type; most of his previous partners were blonde and of similar build to Malfoy.

At five in the afternoon, two other elves took over Harry's and Malfoy's roles. It had been a rough day due to two children peeing on Santa, and one child had been missing for about an hour. Harry was glad he could finally leave for home.

Grumbling, he began undressing in the room Santa and the elves were told to use. From the corner of his eye, he watched Malfoy take off the top, showing off his toned abs and rosy nipples, which made Harry salivate.

“Enjoying the show?”

Turning away, Harry said, “I wasn’t looking.” His cheeks flushed.

“I’ve noticed you watching me for the last few days. Yet, you haven’t had the courage to ask me out.”

Wide eyed, he asked, “You want me to ask you out?” He watched as Malfoy put on trousers and then his brown loafers. Having stopped dressing, Harry was half clothed.

“Obviously,” Malfoy arched a blonde eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I weren’t intrigued.”

“Oh.” His flush worsened as it reached the tips of his ears. “Well, would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

“I could go for some coffee right now, then maybe I’ll invite you over for dinner.” Malfoy winked.

Harry felt his stomach churn and his heart flutter. Was he really going to do this? Malfoy's personality didn't even appeal to him.

“Alright,” he said while lacing his trainers.

He walked out with Malfoy beside him, and the silence was heavy with uncertainty. What if it didn’t go well?

“I was wondering, why did you take up a job as an elf?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

Malfoy sighed, slumping his shoulders. “It's a long story, but to cut it short, my father demanded something of me, and I refused. He decided to punish me by taking away my allowance, and I won’t receive my inheritance until my twenty-fifth birthday.” He gestured helplessly. “Here I am, working a minimum wage job, as if I weren't the Malfoy heir.”

They approached the coffee shop's long queue. The holiday season brought out more people as they were shopping for gifts.

“I can just imagine how awkward your holiday will be with your family.”

“I wish I could stay on campus for winter break, but my mother always hosts a Christmas dinner that I must attend. My godfather recently got married to my ex-convict uncle, and they will be coming, so I know it will be entertaining.” Malfoy said, with humor in his eyes.

“I’m not looking forward to going back to see my family either. My dad thinks that I shouldn’t work because he has the money to sustain me. However, my mom says I should learn to earn my own income.” Harry stared at the menu without taking notice of its contents. “Sometimes, I never want to leave, to avoid the arguments, but it would break their hearts if I never returned.” He confessed, looking back at Malfoy.

The blonde man stared back at him with compassion.

“It appears that we are more alike than I thought.”

Having reached the front of the queue, they were in front of a cashier, asking for their order. Harry ordered his usual, and Malfoy ordered a holiday drink. To let the next person order, they moved to a corner, and Harry's shoulder brushed against Malfoy's.

Malfoy smiled, and his gray eyes shone with some unknown emotion. Harry had never seen him so relaxed. He was absolutely gorgeous . Harry couldn't resist kissing him.

Malfoy's lips were soft and warm. He leaned into the kiss, and Harry felt his heart race. They stayed like that for a few moments before breaking apart. There was a dazed look on Malfoy's face, which Harry was sure he mirrored.

“If I’d known you..." Malfoy trailed off and touched his lips.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered and drew closer to Malfoy's heat, like a moth to a flame. Needing some form of contact, he caught the other man's hand and interlaced their fingers.

Rather than withdrawing his hand, Malfoy gripped Harry's hand tightly and asked, “Would you like to come over to my place?”

“I would love that.” Harry beamed and kissed Malfoy’s hand.

A barista interrupted further conversation, announcing their order. Harry and Malfoy grabbed their drinks and headed out.

☕🎄☕🎄☕🎄

Entering Malfoy’s flat, he walked behind the blonde man, removing his coat and trainers at Malfoy’s direction. There was a large Christmas tree in Malfoy's living room, decorated with silver and gold ornaments. Stockings and garland adorned the electric fireplace. Harry was sure Malfoy couldn’t afford this place with the meager wage they earned as elves.

“Make yourself at home,” Malfoy said as he walked toward the kitchen, which was visible from the living room. “What would you like to eat? I can make just about anything.”

“Anything is fine.” Harry responded as he looked at the photos hanging off the walls.

There were many photos of Malfoy with a blonde woman and a man who looked very similar to him. Harry could now see where Malfoy got his looks from. Among the photos were some of (Harry suspected) Malfoy with his friends: a handsome man with a dark complexion and a woman with a bob haircut were reoccurring. They looked like the posh sort—nothing like Harry’s friends.

Harry approached the kitchen where Malfoy had taken out ingredients and turned on the stove. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms.

“How can I help?” Harry asked, trying to ignore his growing arousal.

Malfoy gazed at him assessingly before answering. “You can prepare the coleslaw. All you need to do is finely chop the cabbage and shred the carrots. I'll prepare the dressing, then you can toss it all together.”

“Alright,” he said, washing his hands.

Malfoy handed him a cutting board; he sharpened and rinsed the knife before handing it to him. Harry was shocked. Malfoy looked like the sort of man who had servants cook for him all his entire life, yet he appeared so at ease in the kitchen.

Malfoy started the stove as Harry washed the vegetables. Harry began chopping the cabbage, and the silence was pleasant, but he wanted to learn more about Malfoy, so he spoke up.

“Please don't take this the wrong way, but I am surprised at your ability to cook. What made you interested in cooking?” Harry set aside the red cabbage and began chopping the green cabbage.

Malfoy chuckled and said with humor, “I am not offended, as you are one of many people surprised at my ability. There are a number of reasons for my interest in cooking, but my godfather is a major one. He taught me how to cook despite my father's objection. It was the only thing I had that wasn't about being the Malfoy heir.” Malfoy sighed, seasoning the salmon filets.

Harry asked Malfoy where the box grater was, having finished chopping the cabbage.

“It’s on the cabinet to your left.” Harry found it and thanked Malfoy.

As Malfoy placed the filets on the pan, he said, “My godfather, Severus, was the first person I told about my decision to study culinary arts. Unlike my parents, he was supportive. The reason my father cut me off was because I refused to drop out to pursue a law degree. And then there’s my mother.” He sighed. “She does not believe I will succeed in my chosen field.”

“That’s awful. At least you have one person on your side.” Harry finished shredding the carrots. “I’m done.” He told Malfoy.

Malfoy allowed the salmon to sear, washed his hands, and prepared the dressing. “Can you handle heat?” He asked, reaching for the red pepper flakes shaker.

Harry assured him that he could handle spicy food. He mixed the cabbage, carrots, and dressing together in a glass bowl. Malfoy told him to place it on the dining table and to wait there, as the salmon would soon be ready.

Harry was having a good time so far. Malfoy was not what he had prejudged him to be. His mum often warned him not to make assumptions about people based on one encounter. He should have heeded her advice.

Malfoy brought out two plates of pan-seared salmon filets garnished with lemon slices. The room was filled with a delicious aroma that made Harry's stomach grumble.

“Smells great,” he said, staring intently at food as Malfoy placed a plate in front of him. He waited for Malfoy to take a seat before taking a bite of the salmon. Upon taking the first bite, his eyes rolled back, and he moaned with pleasure. “This is the best salmon I have ever eaten," Harry praised.

Malfoy blushed prettily. Harry's heartbeat soared. Harry went for the coleslaw instead of kissing him again. There will be time for that later.

🐟🎄🐟🎄🐟🎄

Harry delighted in kissing the blonde man, his cock swelling. Harry brushed his tongue against Malfoy’s lips, asking for entrance, and Malfoy obliged him. With his tongue, he explored every corner of his mouth, savoring each taste. Malfoy's hands roamed over Harry's body, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

He drew him onto his lap, kissing him nonstop. Harry was becoming addicted to Malfoy’s kisses. Malfoy’s arse rubbed against Harry’s erection, and Harry let out a moan of pleasure. Malfoy wiggled his arse until Harry’s cock was between his cheeks. It sent a jolt of electricity through him. Even through the clothing separating them, Harry enjoyed it.

Malfoy slowly gyrated his hips, creating friction and heat. Harry could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He could feel himself about to climax.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Harry groaned, clutching Malfoy’s hips with brutal strength. There would be bruises the next morning. He came in his trousers, shouting Malfoy’s name.

Malfoy pouted, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “I didn’t get to come.” The hard cock poking Harry’s abdomen proved as much.

Harry chuckled and said, “Well, I don’t want to let you down, since this is our first time together.” He walked into Malfoy’s bedroom and shut the door.

💋🎄💋🎄💋🎄

Harry woke up in Malfoy’s bed with the blonde man in his arms. In his fog of having just woken, Harry thought he had found love. It was an absurd thought. He couldn’t love someone he barely knew.

Dad had told Harry that he had fallen in love with his mom at first sight, but Harry was skeptical. Love didn’t come so easily. What he was feeling couldn’t be love. Harry was mistaking lust for deeper emotions.

Malfoy rolled over in his arms, opening his gray eyes, and kissed him. “Morning.”

Harry’s heart fluttered, and he realized he had been wrong. He was his dad’s son.

[safyresky]

Frostmas Year Nine: Behind the Scenes

Prologue | Y1 | Y2 | Y3 | Y4 | Y5 | Y6 | Y7 | Y8 | Y9 | Y10 | Y11 | Y12

(in Kermit the Frog voice) Let's begin!

I straight up thought this chapter would be fairly short, because when I wrote it out in point form the events didn’t seem like they’d have a lot of action. Then I began writing it, and I was DEAD wrong

I listened to the opening scene of the North Pole Resort SOO MANY TIMES to hear the lyrics to the song perfectly. I had to ask my wonderful housemate to take a listen to try and figure out the “santa t-shirts, santa ties” line and WHEN I FINALLY WATCHED IT ON DISNEY WITH SUBTITLES, HEARD THAT I GOT IT W R O N G! It's Santa SIZE. I'll have to change that up lol

FUN FACT! “at this point I’ve adopted a stance of the less I know, the better” is my family’s motto up until recently

“I like the cut of your berg” is one of my FAVOURITE frosty-fying slang lines I’ve ever done! It’s a frosty version of “I like the cut of your jib” which was used in sailing in the 1700s ish to describe if an incoming ship was frens or not frens

-> I originally thought it was just some funky 20s slang, then googled it to make sure I was right and learnt the above!

-> the berg is short for iceberg--B likes the cut of Jacqueline’s iceberg, being the idea to maybe get rid of the awful recordings :)

Sometimes I’m like ‘these things don’t really need explaining’ but I get excited about my own work and then have to share how I got the ideas with everyone so ONWARDS I SUPPOSE

Man I miss multi-level lists! this Frostmas BTS has been in my drafts for FOREVER, and was the last one I did before tumblr switched to the new post editor

WHICH DOESN'T LIKE MULTI LEVEL BULLETED LISTS!

So it's kinda all over the place. My bad lmao.

LET'S KEEP ON KEEPING ON

Jacqueline realizing that she hadn’t updated everyone on what the elves thought of her nonsense was a BLESSING because I realized that I hadn’t addressed it, so thank you for that opportunity, Jacqueline

Archie's Guide to Important People in the North Pole: Big Man->Santa. Boss Man->Bernard.

I would like to take this moment to credit @shittyelfwriter with Archie’s existence in those few chapters of ROE, because I love him and always picture him as the elf playing the piano and going UGH and facepalming during Jack’s rendition of North Pole, North Pole (pictured below). THANK YOU FOR NAMING THE BOY, ANA!

The conversation between Jacqueline and Archie, that dripped sarcasm, was my favourite thing to write this chapter :D

The scene with Chrys give you weird vibes of all manner? Yeah, that was intentional. "Perfection" can be unsettling, after all

Bernard is definitely so DONE this year and it SHOWS -> That is exactly what I was going for, especially since I know that he's not normally

Okay so. Let's Talk About Chrys. TW: Sexual Themes

very embarrassing, but I got the concept from a series of fantasy erotica novels and I wish I was joking

(they’re called the World of Hetar series, very good, very very VERY smutty. I’d say it’s 60% SEX, 30% PLOT, and 10% SEX DRIVEN PLOT)

(I know people who know me are like YOU READ SMUT? YOU?? AN ACE??? and yes, I did, I read exclusively smut from the ages of 12-17 because my Dad worked for "Trash Romance Novel Company" and brought home books for free every month, and the books were, in fact, mostly if not totally smut)

Erotica aside, I quite liked how the author had built up the magical world, the beings, and how magic works in it

In the third or fourth book, called “The Twilight Lord”, the fairies ally with the desert princes who are some kind of magical fae themselves, and they create the Perfect Wife for the corrupt leader of the neighbouring continent to distract him from starting a war

She was a mix of his current 2 wives and the things he liked about them, and looked like the protagonist, Lara, who cursed him to not be able to fuck I shit you not and who he ALSO had a big huge thirst for which was GROSS because he was old as fuck and even though she’s half fairy, she was like. 12 or 13

And this new wife is able to GET IT UP with him, hence how he’d be distracted--he really liked sex (reminder: this is an erotica series)

So he’s too busy fucking her and then on top of that, she would divide the other two wives and basically bring the house down from the inside, neutralizing the threat of this corrupt sex loving mofo

And that’s where the idea of Chrys came from!

So basically tl;dr: Chrys was inspired by a spell a sexy bunch of desert princes in an erotica series did to make the perfect wife for their enemy and knock him right tf down :)

How this works with Cheri’s magic: same concept, less sex

Chrysanthemum is a Perfect Being, who is bound to a specific magibean. Chrys’s purpose is to be Jack’s Mrs Claus, and because she was made with dark magic she drains energy of those around her (except for jack’s energy bc he’s the person she’s bound to) and magnifies bad ideas

spoiler alert: in the long run, Chrys will be TOO perfect and TOO agreeable for Jack and he’ll grow tired and it adds to the whole “I thought this would get me everything I’ve ever wanted but it didn’t” long term theme I have going for Jack as Santa

but yeah

end tw for sexual themes. away from chrys we go!

battled with the “cultural appropriation” bit because I felt as though it may be insensitive but then I wrote it anyway because that’s what it is at it’s base :\

it was supposed to be a stand in? I'd go back and change later? then I didn't. We're rolling with it now lol

Have you ever heard Elf’s Lament by the Barenaked Ladies?

Because it’s where I got the Union Comment from

Then I was like “but DO THEY HAVE UNION???!?!” and remembered the “accident or design” thing and realized “OH they ARE their own union” and figured that in terms of a Santa like JACK, The council would step in (which they’ve done. and tried to do stuff. but haven’t had luck bc PLOT)

god Frostmas is exhausting. Villains are underappreciated for all the effort they put into for being on TOP of things

(in Korvo Solar opposites Voice) what fucking scene are we on. why are these so long. why did i do this to myself. FUCK

ANYWAY CIRCLING BACK TO THIS MESS OF A BTS!

This uniform thing was unplanned/meant to be just a footnote. Then. Well. THIS.

It is a decent feature of the Resort in the movie so, I guess it works out :)

FUN FACT: I was playing a very good dnd campaign at the time! And that's how Davian got her name, lol. One of the amazing NPCs was named Davian, and we had a really good session with them and the name stuck and boom! Into Frostmas it goes. Once again, Frostmas is proving to be a time capsule reminding me of wtf I was doing while writing these bad boys :)

I miss my friend's campaign ):

And yeah, this fight is one Jacqueline cannot win. this is on the elves. So what does she do? Goes back to her hyperfocus of destorying SantaJack

How? By figuring out wtf Chrys is >:)

STUPID DUMB CHRYS

Alright. Scene subheadings are back! Right on.

"Myles would be proud AND would probably have been able to connect the dots and figure out what was up, and then place it on a neat presentation board, to boot."

LEGATE DROP! Myles is Tooth Fairy's Legate! He's v sweet, a lil bit clumsy, SUPER into conspiracies--hence Jacqueline being like "MAN I WISH THAT KIDS WAS HERE, HE'D KNOW WTF IS UP"

So let's talk about BLINTER. Just to clarify: THEY WERE NOT ABOUT TO GET IT ON IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DEN. This is just a typical post work day for them: start a fire, make a blanket nest, be cozy until kid 2, 3, or 4 come to harass them

Blaise is pouty bc they didn't even get a single cuddle in before Kid 2 came in like

And I was 100% referencing the meme lmao.

god tumblr killed the quality. I'll post it separately. ANYWAY

the Blinter and Jacquie scene was fun to write! This is one of the scenes where I was dropping very strong hints that Jacqueline was freezing--and Winter AND Blaise were noticing. Winter'll explain it all in Y11 ;)

FINAL RESORT

"You could really tell that graphic design was Chrys's passion"

another meme reference:

I think we, as a collective people using slang, should bring back "gag me with a spoon". Also some older slang! I try to sneak those in when I know of some to show. Y'know. AGE.

This whole scene with Jack and Chrys actually was me laying the ground work for FINAL RESORT. Trying to get in all of the booths we see, the petting zoo, and the different announcements about various activities set up before the double digit years! That was my goal :)

THE ELVES UNION AT WORK

Ah yes. the walk out. God, this uniform thing was meant to be small, but lord did it EVER go big. I'm actually okay with it--my y9 notes were so lacklustre, I was concerned it would be (you'll laugh I know) TOO SHORT lmao

No. Fr. Look at them.

"Because those outfits are a joke, and you wouldn't catch me dead wearing those."

Sassnard. We Stan.

"I'm so proud of all of my crew," said Davian. "Crimes against fashion should NEVER be tolerated!"

"And the break from the constant ruined showtunes, what a relief!" said Archie, leaning very far back in his stool."

The elves have their priorities lol. I Bet Archie and Davian are biffers.

Curtis on damage control was A) a stroke of genius on my part and B) the way I decided to start laying the groundwork for Customer Service Sales Person Curtis we see when Scott gets to the Resort! God, there is SO MUCH GROUND WORK FOR VARIOUS ITTY BITTY BITS WE SEE IN THE MOVIE, IT'S ACTUALLY INSANE. No wonder you all dig Frostmas so much. good lord

And then, we have it! Final Resort. Wholly heckeros! And yes, I did indeed name the Fire Marshall. Marshal. I'm a genius 🙃🙃🙃

""Course! It's lunch. I doubt anything will happen during lunch."

Famous last words, B-Man. And yes, I did that on purpose >:)

CHRYS UNMASKED. AND ALSO, IT'S CHERI!

Cheri's...interesting

While she is master of the dark witch arts, she isn't evil? Very chaotic. Kind of lets it slide a lot of the time when Witches use "dark" magic. Everything has a price, blah blah blah, it's not her place to tell people off about it--that's the other Grand Witch's place, Gwen, aka, Glenda, master of the light witch arts

And also, dark magic will take what it needs in response. She just makes sure people don't use it SUPER illegally. Otherwise she kills em. It's her favourite part of the job :)

Lawful Evil?? Idk.

FUN FACT: She gave Gwen the nickname Glenda, like the good witch in The Wizard of Oz (derogatory), and Gwen went, "oh! Glenda, like the good witch in The Wizard of Oz (affectionate)? you're such a sweet sister I'll take it :)" and now everyone calls her Glenda much to Cheri's (dis)satisfaction.

Cheri is very not serious and hates being called in for business unless murder is involved. She does NOT ignore any summons, ESPECIALLY from Mother Nature.

Hence why Tara had a easy enough time getting her in

But Cheri does NOT make things easy for people, nope!

"Hay, Jacquie" a la Catra going "Hay, Adora". I was watching SPOP at the time. It's a DAMN good show, Catra/Adora my BELOVEDS

FUN FACT: Only recently decided how Warlocks worked in my universe! They know everything and can guide ANY castor. It's like a reverse of Warlocks in DnD. They don't need a patron; they ARE patrons!

By RETIRING Cheri means that a lot of Warlocks went into Rosehaven with the Call. They were making BANK on the feuding fae factions.

Petty vengeance->one night stand with Jack where he said he'd call back, and didn't, which Cheri expected but any excuse for petty revenge is a good one! Good karma->Cheri explains it herself: if it helps the "good" forces, and she contributed to it, she gets a bit of a pass on being The Worst :)

OH SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT THE SNAP BACK INTO THE PRESENT

this was an idea I had had since like, the BEGINNING. Halfway through or so, Jack would bug Jacqueline in the proper timeline, to check in and also let her know that he'd like a turn and also, as a plot device so I could remind everyone it's a story of the past being told from the future, and plant the seed of "wait, is Jacqueline going to forget it? Or is she going to remember it?"

Is she? Well, you're not finding out until the Epilogue :)

It is just as jarring as I had hoped it'd be, especially since I forgot all about it! I was ready to title this section THE END and talk about Bernard's amazing exit.

But yeah, it was a fun reminder that this takes place POST redemption, TECHNICALLY, which is a lot of fun! And that was so pleasantly jarring. I'm pleased >:)

anyway

THE END: BERNARD'S STELLAR EXIT

if you listen to this version of the halo theme song on loop, you may enter the space I entered when I wrote this bit

anyway. i love Jack. He is. the Blorboest Blorbo EVER. But he did, in fact, steal Christmas for his own holiday and turned the park into a Resort. Implying that there is an overnight stay. Especially with a pamphlet THAT THICK. It;s not even a pamphlet. It's a fucking guide book. FUCK.

And like, there were no hotels that we saw. Maybe there are inns! I mean, the Winter Wonderland has rooms. But I digress.

REGARDLESS, something needed to happen to really get B-Man, well, GONE. And this was the final straw: Elf's houses for you to stay at, with your own personal elfsisstant!

It HURT to SUGGEST Jack would make the elves like. SERVANTS so I tried really hard to avoid that sort of thing--but yeah, they'd be like hotel staff but live in. Imagine being an elf and having to NANNY HUMANS?! FUCK

"That's what your emotional support sprite is for," I said.->Meme alert! "sir this is my emotional support x" meme lol.

Jacqueline gets to kick down doors, once again. Idk why she slams doors open so much? She just does lol

"...It's perfect," Jack said. "It's everything I've ever wanted." I tilted my head. There had been something about the way he said that that made me think that he did not believe that anymore"

I'M LIKE, DROPPING HINTS NOW AT JACK'S ENDGAME FOR FROSTMAS (since we already know Jacqueline's)

AND JACQUIE IS PICKING THEM UP!

I wanted to avoid "servant" related words, but B-Man is way more blunt than I am and we thank him for it tbh

"Really? Cause this is me, walking away."

SO THIS RAW ASS LINE WAS GIVEN TO US BY @shittyelfwriter YET AGAIN! WOMAN'S A GENIUS! We were chatting about BMan's exit and she sent a snippet with that line and I went "Ou. Yeah. That's GOOD" and did a bit of "do it different so they can't tell it's copied"

but credit is given where credit is due lmao! Ana's mind is like, BIG BRAIN when it comes to writing and connecting dots n shit :)

and there we have it! Frostmas BTS: Y9. Y10 coming to you SOON I hope! I'm clearing out my drafts. They're all just. Frostmas BTS and wips that have yet to see the light of day :3