#'it's like making out with a chocolate bar but you can tell they've been making out with a strawberry right before you--

[vamp-a-day]

day 59

i think the strawberry in their jam is like the iron in our blood

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team IV

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first youth game

The Denmark youth team calls you up on a random day.

Or, rather, they call your mothers who are more than happy to accept.

It's your first youth team call up and you can't help the nerves that settle in your stomach.

At first, everything goes smoothly. You meet the coach and the staff and you get settled in your room.

That's when training starts.

There's two other keepers to play with. They're both on the upper ends of the age range of the team. You're on the lower side.

They're worldly and smart and seem leaps and bounds ahead of you. They catch shots you could only dream of and seem like good friends, already having a solid relationship to pick up every time the international break comes around.

You're the outsider here, the girl that has to fly over from Sweden every time just to play in an international team. The girl that no one else here knows because she plays her football in Sweden. The girl that's so much younger than everyone else and took the spot of one of their friends.

The coaching staff have seen something in you that no one else can see, even you. You're young and untried and everyone keeps looking at you like they expect you to be some great talent.

As of yet, you haven't proven it which is why it's a surprise that you're the starting keeper for the match against France.

It's a surprise for everyone else too, if the way the other two keepers complain is anything to go by.

France is a tough opponent, even at the youth level and while this isn't a tournament, it still sets the bar for the future.

Your coach is trying out new positions and new rotations and new team chemistry. He takes no complaints.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many people complain.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many of the older girls give you a dirty look during training.

You understand why. You're the outsider here. You're the one taking the spot from their friends. You're the one that's appeared randomly and is taking away chances from others.

The match, as predicted, is incredibly difficult.

France have a good front line.

(One day, all of these girls will be in the senior team against you).

They press high. They press hard. They press fast.

Your defence falls apart before your very eyes.

One time, after a rough training session, Magda told you something in the car.

The goalkeeper is meant to be the very last option to stop a goal. If a defence is good then they should be able to stop a strike before it happens, before it manages to trouble the keeper. The sign of a good defence is when the goalkeeper doesn't need to save a single shot.

But the keeper is also in charge of the defence on the pitch.

The coach can tell the players anything before they're on the pitch but, in the heat of the moment, the keeper needs to remind the defence of their jobs.

Your first half is difficult with your defence making silly mistakes and playing like they've never been in the back line in their life.

France dominated possession and the amount of shots on target with the amount of space your defence has gifted them.

You come off the pitch pissed, unwilling to make eye contact with your mothers as you pass them in the stands.

You don't even want to look in Pernille's direction.

You're playing for her country right now. You don't want to disappoint her. You don't want her to look at you when you inevitably concede to France and lose Denmark the match.

"Hey," One of the older keepers says to you, standing in front of your cubby with her arms crossed over your chest.

You're sat down, leaning back against the wall as you stare at the gloves in your hand. Your energy drink sits next to you, half empty with the small chocolate bar Pernille always tells you to eat to give you a boost of energy in the second half.

Your throat bobs as you look up at this girl.

"Hey," You say back, completely defeated.

She looks at you, eyes roving over your body before she lets out a long suffering sigh.

"If the defenders are playing shit," She says," Then you need to tell them. I suggest yelling, get it through their thick heads that if they can't stop the ball from getting to you then the goal conceded is their fault."

"You want me to yell?"

"Look," She says," I get you're all quiet and stuff but out on the pitch you're in charge of them. If they're not up to your standards then you better fucking tell them."

"I-"

"Plus it helps get some of your frustration out."

Her words circle in your head even as you walk out for the second half.

France dominates again and it's not long before they're bearing down on goal.

You defence is wide open, allowing way too much space and you have to go to ground to save the shot.

Rage boils under your skin as you stand up, marching over to your defence as they mill around waiting for you to release the ball.

"Tighten up!" You snap," You're giving them too much space!"

"Whoa, wait a minute-"

"No! Just close ranks when they come near! Cut them off then and there and I won't have to make the save because if you keep playing like that sooner or later, they're going to sneak one past me!"

You don't give them time to argue back, rolling the ball out to your midfield.

The game ends nil-nil but you don't have to make any more saves and you don't bother sparing your defence a look as you walk off the pitch, making your way right over to the stands, hoisting yourself up and over.

"I'm sorry," You say, head bowed as you stand in front of your mothers," We didn't score."

"I don't think scoring is exactly up to you," Pernille says, reaching out to cup your cheek and pull your head up," You're responsible for not conceding and you did that. A clean sheet on debut. That's a win in my book."

"But not a proper win," You say.

"Let's focus on what you can control," Magda says," You control the goal and the defence. You didn't let a ball past you. You told your defence they needed to tighten up. You did well."

"Really?"

Pernille laughs. "You're too hard on yourself. Now, go down, get showered, get changed. We're going out with your grandparents tonight and we need to tell them about your amazing debut."

[coffeeghoulie]

forbidden fruit

or Swiss takes Aeon out to the orchard for an impromptu date.

heavily inspired by this post by @crimsonclergy (I have been thinking about that post nonstop for a month and a half lmao)

Contains they/them for Aeon, t4t ghouls (dick, folds, and pussy used to describe what Aeon's working with), outdoor sex, and just 3.6k of two ghouls being sappy as shit for each other (seriously, it got way sappier than I intended)

Aeon stumbles into the kitchen well into the morning, the sun almost at its zenith. Their mismatched eyes are heavy with sleep, their stomach growling. Swiss is already there, leaning back against the counter in his sleep clothes, a black tanktop and a pair of sweats that sit low on his hips, exposing the softness of his stomach, the trail of coarse dark hair leading down. The sight makes Aeon's heart flutter like a trapped rabbit's, mouth watering a little.

"Morning, stickbug. What's on your docket today?" Swiss asks, hands wrapped around a mug of something steaming that smells of coffee and cinnamon.

"Morning," Aeon stretches, groaning and eyelids fluttering as they grab a granola bar, one of the batch that Mountain made with dried fruit and chunks of dark chocolate. "Polishing the silver in the chapel," they say, garbled through a mouthful. "Boring."

Swiss hums thoughtfully, taking a long drink from his mug. Aeon watches unashamedly as his throat works when he swallows. "How do you feel about playing hooky, then?"

"Play hickey?" Aeon makes a questioning noise, finishing chewing. "I've never heard that before," they say, raising an eyebrow at the turn of phrase. "Explain that one to me?"

"Not hickey, bug, hooky," Swiss grins, and it's as bright as the first time Aeon saw the sun. "Though I wouldn't be opposed to that." He leans forward, mug set down on the counter next to him. "It means skipping chores to go do something a little more fun," he says easily. "I'm supposed to sweep and mop, but really, think about it. The silver gets polished and the floors get mopped every day. It'll be fine if we skip out for one day."

Aeon hums, swallowing the last of the granola bar. "You sure we won't get in trouble?" They ask.

"Bug," Swiss hums, setting one of his giant hands on their shoulder. "If you were scheduled for a shift in the infirmary, or kitchen duty, or practice, or something that needs to get done, I wouldn't have asked. Besides," he says with another bright grin, "If Papa actually gets angry for us skipping one day's worth of chores, I'll just tell him we were honoring the Old One with the sin of sloth."

Aeon laughs, leaning into Swiss's touch. "You can sweet talk your way out of anything, I swear."

Swiss waggles his eyebrows, leaning in and giving Aeon a peck on the lips. "You know it, buggy." Aeon leans into the kiss, tries to deepen it, wants nothing more than to taste the coffee he's been drinking, but Swiss pulls away teasingly. "Meet me in the gardens in, say, half an hour?"

They nod, leaning in for another quick kiss, rubbing their cheek happily against Swiss's stubble before darting back to their room. They change, throwing their pajamas into the ever-growing heap of their laundry (they swear they'll get it done, just not today) and change into a pair of black jeans and an oversized hoodie, one of Swiss's that smells like chai and spices.

The air is cool, a breeze rustling through the autumn leaves, yellow and orange and brown. Aeon meets Swiss outside, the multighoul flicking open and shut his utility knife, the metal making a soft noise as he plays with it. Aeon swallows hard, and Swiss glances up, gold gaze softening as he sees them approach.

"Hey, buggy, I like the hoodie," Swiss grins. Aeon rolls their eyes, even as a soft violet blush grows on their cheeks.

"Hi, Swiss," they say, leaning in for a kiss even though it's been less than an hour since they've seen the multighoul. "What's with the knife?"

"We're gonna need it," he says, his brow furrowing as Aeon's expression turns a little apprehensive. "I'm not planning on using it on you, not gonna shank my precious little quint in the gardens," he laughs.

Swiss tucks his utility knife into his pocket, reaching out to take Aeon's hand. They take it eagerly, delighted at how their hand seems to vanish in his. Their hand's not small by any means, but Swiss's are giant. He chuffs shakily at the younger ghoul, who leans in, rubbing their cheek against his tshirt, happily repeating the noise as they wind their tails together.

"Why am I still surprised you can chuff and purr?" Aeon asks as Swiss leads them through the gardens, surprisingly empty this time of day. The harvest is soon, and Aeon would imagine the place would be crawling with earth ghouls and Siblings.

Swiss grins, swinging their joined arms as he leads them to the orchards, the apple trees heavy with fruit. "I am a ghoul of many talents, my sweet little stickbug," he croons, taking them deeper and deeper into the rows of trees. "You know I'm a little quintessence too."

Aeon nods, still resting their head on Swiss's shoulder. "It's funny, though, you can do both. I just sound like a choked out squeaky toy if I try to purr."

Swiss laughs, the sound echoing around the empty orchard like the chapel bells. He lets go of Aeon's hand, just long enough to wrap his arm around their waist, squeezing them tight against his side. "My choked out squeaky toy," he laughs, pressing a kiss to Aeon's two toned hair before taking their hand again.

Eventually, Swiss hums, finding a tree he likes. He reaches up, snatching two shiny apples from the lower branches, and sits, back pressed against the trunk. He pats his left thigh, chittering under his breath as Aeon sits next to him. "Come on, buggy, get comfy," he says, coaxing the younger ghoul to lay down, using his thigh as a pillow.

Aeon hums happily, breathing in Swiss's smell, the fresh air, noticing with a twinge in their chest that he encouraged them to lay with their left side closest to him, their damaged eye shaded from the afternoon sun. Swiss ruffles their hair, cooing down at them, before polishing the apples with the hem of his shirt. "This is what we needed the knife for, bug," he says, brandishing the utility knife from his pocket. He selects one of the apples and methodically cuts a slice from the fruit, deft fingers working.

Even though they had eaten breakfast less than an hour before, the crisp sound of Swiss cutting the apple makes their mouth water, and they reach up, making grabby hands for the slice. Swiss clicks his tongue, batting Aeon's hand away. "Let me, bug," he says, feeding them the slice of fruit before cutting one for himself.

Aeon's eyes flutter close as the juice explodes with sweetness on their tongue, moaning softly as they chew, the apple perfectly ripe and crunchy. Swiss grins, trilling happily at Aeon's reaction. "Is it that good, sweetheart?"

"Mhm," Aeon moans affirmatively, nodding eagerly as they swallow, cracking their eyes open just in time to watch Swiss eat his own slice. They can't help themselves, their uninjured eye dilating as they watch Swiss's eyes grow half-lidded, a similar noise escaping his throat as he savors his slice. He cuts another slice off of the apple, pressing it to their lips. Aeon eagerly accepts it, chuffing gratefully as they take the slice from his fingers with their fangs.

Aeon can't take their eyes off of Swiss's hands, watching his deft, strong fingers work, Swiss cast in a gold light from the sun, splitting the apples between them both. "You look really pretty," they whisper, face relaxed and content as they eat. Their tail pads against the ground as they wag it.

"Not as pretty as you," Swiss snorts a laugh, popping another piece of apple into his mouth. "You flatter me, buggy."

"I mean it!" They protest, huffing and crossing their arms over their chest.

Swiss hums as he sets the cores aside, nose scrunching up as he seems to decide something. He licks the flat of his blade slowly, making sure to lock eyes with Aeon, staring up at him. His eyes flutter shut and he moans dramatically, but he's never been able to resist playing it up. He licks the juice off of the other side, smirking down at them as he watches the pupil of their undamaged eye grow, engulfing the violet iris in inky blackness. Aeon whines, hand reaching up to grab his wrist.

"What, buggy?" he asks, still smirking. "Can't put the knife away dirty."

"Swiss," Aeon breathes. Their cheeks flush as they feel their stomach flip, their dick kicking in their boxers. It's odd that a personification of sin itself feels things like shame, but Aeon feels it intensely as they get worked up over a little gesture meant to tease. They turn their face into Swiss's stomach, hiding, breathing in his scent. They're sure Swiss can smell them too, blackberry and ozone and need.

"Oh, buggy," Swiss coos, ruffling their hair. "Did I get you all worked up?"

"Yeah," they admit, muffled by the softness of his stomach.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you look at me?" Swiss asks, voice low as he bends down to get closer to them. Aeon whines, but rolls back onto their back to meet his eye. "There's my buggy," he says, trailing gentle fingers along their jaw, down their throat, tracing over a mostly-healed bite mark on the edge between patches of grey and lavender skin at the crook of their neck.

"Hi," they whisper, shivering as Swiss touches the bitemark. "Sorry I'm being needy. I've been Up Top for a while, I should be able to be in control of myself by now."

"Hi," Swiss snorts, leaning down further and kissing them sweetly. They both taste of apples. "Don't apologize for that, bug. I like how easily I can get you worked up. It's hot."

"Did you plan on this when you asked me to 'play hooky?'" Aeon asks, making air quotes. Their tail reaches over, wrapping itself around Swiss's shin.

Swiss shrugs, hand trailing up to cup Aeon's cheek. "Nah, just wanted to spend a nice afternoon with my sweetheart. But I'm more than happy to help you out with that little problem. You know me."

Aeon sighs, laughing a little as they nuzzle against Swiss's stomach, feeling his scent grow thicker as he reacts to Aeon's own. They sigh again, starting to clamber upright.

Swiss grabs their arm, gold eyes wide and scent tinged with distress. "Hey, hey, buggy, where you going?"

"Back to the Abbey? To one of our rooms?" They question, a surprised noise yanked from them as Swiss pulls them back down into his lap.

"What's wrong with out here?" Swiss teases, watching Aeon's good eye dilate further.

"People could see?" They whine, but it's really not convincing.

"No one's out here, bug," Swiss says, brushing their hair off of their forehead, pushing it behind a horn. "How about since it was my tongue that got you all worked up, I give it to you?"

Aeon bites their lip to stifle a moan, nodding eagerly, and Swiss laughs, sitting up and helping them rearrange until their back is pressed against the tree, Swiss laying on his stomach between their legs.

He unties Aeon's sneakers, setting them aside and pressing a kiss to their bare ankle. Swiss prowls closer, eyes dark and hungry, his big hands settling on the waistband of Aeon's jeans. "You want these off, baby?" he asks, voice low.

Aeon nods, throat working as they find their words. "Yes, please," they say, lifting their hips and helping Swiss pull their jeans and boxers down.

Swiss hums, shrugging before shucking his shirt, folding it and setting it under Aeon's ass as a makeshift pillow. "So chivalrous," Aeon giggles, honestly distracted by the miles of warm skin on display, covered in coarse, dark hair and only interrupted by the well-healed scars under his pecs. Aeon wants nothing more than to cuddle up with him, nuzzle against his chest, but then their dick throbs and they remember what exactly they're doing.

"Nothing but the best for my buggy," Swiss grins, locking eyes with them as he lays back down on his stomach.

Aeon whines, throwing their head back and wincing as they bonk their head on the tree behind them, and Swiss's hungry gaze turns worried. "Shit, 'm fine," Aeon laughs, blushing even deeper, rubbing the back of their head.

Swiss smiles warmly, grabbing their other hand and rubbing his thumb over their knuckles, leaning down and kissing the pudge of their stomach. "Don't want to have to take you to the infirmary, bug," he whispers. "You know Aether'll tear us a new one if he finds out we're shirking responsibilities."

Aeon snorts, stomach muscles tensing as Swiss kisses a ticklish spot. "Aether's told me all about the times he and Dew skipped out to go make out in some closet somewhere."

Swiss grins, trailing kisses down the line of Aeon's stomach, getting closer and closer to where Aeon's scent is the strongest, the dark curls there already damp and shining with slick. He scrapes his stubble against the sensitive skin inside of their thigh. "Sounds like the two of them, honestly," Swiss hums, burying his nose in the crease between Aeon's hip and thigh, taking a deep breath and groaning as their scent floods his senses. "Fuck, buggy, you smell so good."

They whine, reaching down and threading their fingers through Swiss's braids, not pulling or tugging, just grabbing on. "Shit, please, please don't make me wait," they beg.

"Of course, bug," Swiss whispers, locking eyes with them before licking a stripe up their folds the exact same way he licked his knife clean.

Aeon lets out a strangled little moan, fingers tightening in Swiss's hair as their eyes flutter shut on their own accord. "Fuck!" they yelp, hips jolting forward.

"Easy, baby," Swiss hums, groaning as their taste floods his mouth, stronger and sweeter than the apples they had shared. "Let me make you feel good."

Aeon nods, not easing the death grip they had in his hair. "Fuck, please," they whisper, trying to make eye contact with him, but Swiss's gaze is so attentive and hungry they have to look away.

He lowers his mouth down to Aeon's dick, jutting proudly from their folds. He sucks the nub gently between his teeth, fingers dimpling the softness of their thighs. Aeon's breath stutters, feeling more slick pool out from them.

"Gonna ruin your shirt," they huff, fingers moving from Swiss's hair to wrap around his horns, guiding him to where they need him. They yelp as his mustache scrapes against their sensitive folds, eyes rolling back into their head.

Swiss pulls off with a laugh, turning and nipping a little mark into their inner thigh, soothing it with his hot tongue. "You're not going to ruin it," he assures them. "I want it to smell like you."

Something deep in Aeon's stomach flutters, and they groan unashamedly. "Oh, fuck," they whisper. He chuckles and licks through their folds again, eyes flashing with delight as it draws another strangled noise from their throat.

Swiss laps at them like a man starved, like he hadn't just eaten, like he wanted to drown himself in Aeon's essence. Aeon tightens their grip around his horns, holding him against them as they lean back, groaning as their head makes contact with the tree again.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," they chant as Swiss moans against them, his eyes fluttering shut as he devours them. "Suck on it, please suck on it Swiss." They tug on his horns, drawing a moan from the multighoul's throat. He moves up obediently, desperate to please them, and wraps his lips around their dick.

"Shit, right there," they whine, hips jolting up as he laves his tongue over the sensitive nub. "Don't stop, Swiss, please don't stop."

And he doesn't, he keeps suckling and licking, eyelashes fluttering as he moans around them. "Fuck, buggy, you taste so fucking good," he groans, letting go of one of their thighs as he pants for breath. Something in Aeon's chest does a flip when they see just how shiny the lower half of his face is, slick coating his mustache and chin. "How do you feel about inside, sweetheart?"

Aeon swallows hard, nodding so enthusiastically they hit their head on the tree again, but they're so giddy it only draws a laugh from them. "Can I have your fingers, too? Couldn't stop watching them while you cut the fruit for us."

Swiss grins, fangs flashing bright in the afternoon sunlight, dappled through the leaves like Aeon's skin. "Anything for my squeaky toy," Swiss teases, laughing brightly as Aeon shoves at his forehead.

"Shut up," they whine, but they're grinning too. True to Swiss's newest nickname for them, Aeon lets out a strangled noise as he pushes his ring and middle finger inside of them, petting at their inner walls.

"That's it, bug, just feel it," he whispers, kissing their stomach again. They whine, yelping as he presses firmly against the spongy spot just behind their dick, drawing little circles there with the pads of his fingers.

"Fuck!" Aeon wails, legs falling open wider. They don't care if their voice carries, if someone hears them. It's too good, the pleasure rising in their body like the tides. "Swiss!"

"That's it, sweetheart," Swiss coos, licking his lips before kissing their dick, fingers working inside of them. "Taking it so good, such a good ghoul for me," he says, kissing the swollen nub into his mouth, rubbing his tongue over the head as Aeon wails.

Aeon pants and wails, chest heaving as Swiss's hoodie suddenly becomes too hot, even in the cool autumn air. They reluctantly release Swiss's horns, shoving his hoodie off over their head. They curse as it gets tangled against their horns, laughing as they finally get it off, leaving them in just a black binder. Once they get the hoodie off, they look down, realizing just how fondly Swiss is looking up at them.

"What're you looking at?" They try to tease, but their voice hitches as Swiss sucks a little harder at their dick.

Swiss pulls back, smiling warmly as he licks the slick from his lips. "I'm just looking at my buggy, thinkin' about how much I love hearing them laugh. Hearing them happy."

"You're a fucking sap," they whine, crossing their arms over their chest petulantly, turning away from him.

"I mean it," he says, the most sincere Aeon's ever heard him, thrusting his fingers slowly into their heat. "You don't know how happy it makes me to see you happy."

They huff a little laugh, reaching down and pulling him up to kiss him. It's heated, but not dirty, sweet and Aeon tries to put every ounce of their affection and gratitude into it. They moan loud into his lips as they taste themself on him. "Fuck, please make me cum, Swiss," they beg, and Swiss laughs, voice ringing like a bell, and even if Aeon were sent back to the Pit tomorrow, the noise would make them happy for the rest of their existence.

"Of course, bug," he coos, waggling his eyebrows as he dives back between their legs. He watches their expression as he doubles his efforts, drowning himself in them.

Aeon squeals, hands darting back down to his horns, to his hair, anything they can to hold on as the pleasure rocks through their body. "Fuck!" they shout, only the whites of their eyes visible.

Swiss groans into them, the vibration rattling something deep in their core. Aeon shouts, back arching as they hold his mouth against them, nearly gushing like a water ghoul when they cum. Swiss mumbles something unintelligible, clever tongue and fingers working them through it, drinking them down as they squeeze around him.

When their body stops shaking, their sensitive dick twitching against Swiss's tongue, Aeon pushes Swiss off of them. Normally, they like the overstimulation, how eager Swiss is to draw their pleasure out until they're screaming, but they're sated. "Fuck," they giggle, Swiss staring up at them with an almost goofy expression.

Aeon catches their breath, reaching for Swiss. "Lemme get you off now," they pant, and Swiss laughs again. He shuffles up, straddling their thighs as he presses his forehead against theirs.

"Bug," he says, voice full of so much love Aeon can almost taste it. His cheeks are warm, and Aeon takes a breath through their nose. Under the heavy scent of their own slick, they can smell.. shame? Not a lot, not overwhelming, but it's so odd to smell it coming from Swiss that their brow furrows, and they bring their hands up to cup his damp cheeks.

"Swiss? You okay?" They ask, genuinely worried.

Swiss laughs, eyes crinkling as he smiles. "I'm good, bug, but I don't need you to reciprocate. Came in my damn pants like a teenager."

Aeon's eyes widen in surprise and delight. "Shit," they giggle, kissing him again. "Pussy so good it made you cum in your pants."

Swiss pulls back, laughing. "We really need to get you off of the internet," he teases, wiping his face on his arm. Aeon rolls their eyes, but laughs along with him.

"Come here and cuddle me," they whine, making grabby hands at him.

He grins, laying down next to them and pulling them halfway onto his chest as they chuff happily, rubbing their face on his pecs. "Anything for my little squeaky toy."

Aeon smacks him playfully, and their combined laughter carries through the orchard, sweet like apples.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for calling out my bf for wanting to buy his female work colleague a small "just because" gift?

=======================

So, I have been with my current bf for about 1.5 years. It's a pretty serious relationship and we do love each other. Over the weekend, we were at a local mall and he noticed a kiosk selling some different kinds of anime merch. He's a big anime fan and has mentioned that there is only a small handful of other anime fans at work so he only has a few people he can talk about these things with. Anyway, while at the kiosk, he mentioned enthusiastically that he 'absolutely had' to come back there to get a sticker for a girl he works with because he knows she's a huge fan of a particular anime (that he saw a sticker for there).

Of course, I hear this and immediately think oh how thoughtful. That's really sweet.. but then realized he had never done such a thing for me. I never thought of gifting as my primary love language, but the realization of this really stung. I made a comment about him buying gifts for his girlies at work, and he got a little defensive about it and we left it at that for a moment.

I brought it up a few hours later to let him know how I felt. I wanted him to know that he had never randomly bought me something just because I'd like it, just because it was related to something I was really into. He'd never randomly brought home a 'just because' gift like that but he was totally going to do that for her (his coworker). He'd certainly never bought me a sticker from some show or anime *I'm* into...I asked if he'd buy his male anime fan coworkers a sticker too and he said of course. But that's not what he said at the mall. He only mentioned getting one for her and the particular anime she was into. I asked him where MY sticker was out of all the things he knows I'm into. "Where's my sticker?" and he said nothing.

So later in the night, we did talk about it and he apologized afterward because he said he didn't realize how I would interpret him buying her a gift. But I said I still feel like you're missing a point. I told him: what does it look like for a guy to bring a girl he works with little trinkets of things that she's int?. It's a personal gift. It's not a bar of chocolate that "all women" would like. It is an anime sticker of something that you'd have to know she was into. He could have just said where the kiosk was, but he wanted to get her something. Something that shows he payed attention to the things she likes. And he wanted to give it to her because he thought she'd like it = to make her happy. I asked him to think about how that looks like to everyone involved. And is that the message you wanted to send? I asked him to think about how she would interpret it. And what does that look like to me? They've only known each other (at work) for a few months. I said you don't know how she would interpret that. All she knows is you were out with your girlfriend, and you were thinking of her enough to buy her something. And that could sent the wrong message to her of course, even if you "didn't mean" anything by it.

So he apologized again, said he wasn't trying to court her by buying her a sticker, and it was just a random thought that appeared in his head when he saw the anime she liked. And he said he didn't think about it the way I described and that he agreed with me - just telling her where the kiosk was and that was enough and appropriate. But something still doesn't sit right with me. Maybe I feel guilty for blowing things out of proportion? Maybe there's something else going on here that my gut knows that my brain hasn't seen yet? Maybe i'm just jealous because he hasn't ever brought me a 'just because' gift ever?

Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[verdemoun]

how does lenny feel about how he’s treated in this time period, in contrast to 1899?

honestly lenny's attitude towards race in rdr2 like he has so many brilliant dialogues about his relationship to race like UGH esp in lemoyne like it's genuinely not fair how aware he has to be of his race at such a young age but also I am definitely not the person to be saying things have improved or how things have changed fully aware it's a conversation people still have to have with kids!! how is the world so beautiful and frustratingly embarrassingly ugly at the same time. the conversation he has with sean about being 'set free to suffer' haunts me honestly. at times his monologues are so much an echo of the same anger dutch has with the way of the world but coming from a place of genuine oppression instead of idealistic bullshit UGH their conversations about evelyn miller and pretty words got me exorcist crawling backwards i love lenny so much

on one hand lenny would be so excited about seeing black professionals. walking around college/university campuses, talking to black professors, fellow students of color, the sheer concept of what and where he can study and achieve not being a matter of written laws or rules would still be so exciting. having intellectual debates with fellow pocs with lived experience instead of idealists, being able to find community in a way that wasn't assessable as a young man in 1899 surrounded by a mostly white gang (lenny almost always makes a point of saying he was talking to other* colored** folk in missions you cannot tell me he isn't looking for that sense of poc community)

but he's already been necessitated by life to be so aware of glances, suspicious looks he recognizes and receives all the same despite being in a completely different era. he just gets to a point like tamatoa voice: mwahahaha, yes!! social progress, people freed from connotations and burdens of their own sk- wait a minute ugh i see they've taken an explicitly racially motivated bias and reframed it as socio-economic challenge reinforced by the abuse and mismanagement of powers within the judicial system, as a DIVERSION (to the fact there still isn't enough being done to actively address it!!).

will call out people being racist in the local corner store in the flattest most bored monotone like seriously in the time you were following me around because i'm black those two (vague gesture to isaac and jack sprinting away) stole 3 energy drinks, a bag of chips, an entire case of chocolate bars and the damned cctv video surveillance in operation warning sign

[batpham-discord-highlights]

Danny the teen heroes mentor Part 2

source: #crack

Part 1

Midas: Space Doorway CEO they've got multiple theories -Danny's a hero, either still active or retired -Danny was a hero's sidekick -Danny is a lab experiment/clone of a hero -Danny is just a cool guy and this knowledge is coincidental -He's secretly just a hero fanboy and that's why he knows so much -Danny's a retired villain

soap -Danny's an active villain looking to get close to them to beat their mentors and take over the world

ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO except he never asks like. identifying questions or anything

Midas: Space Doorway CEO -Danny's a villain looking to train them because the heroes nowadays are easy as shit and he wants a challenge

ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO he just mother hens them and sometimes asks what video games they're into

soap it's almost immediately thrown out, until an adult finds out and gets suspicious

ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO of course

Midas: Space Doorway CEO that is not one of the kid's theories That's an adult's theory

ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO what if Phantom is actually known to the JL but they don't know about Fenton but all the kids know about Fenton and not Phantom

Midas: Space Doorway CEO nice

soap Phantom just drops info on their kids and the JL gets super suspicious it's a pun because "super" and they're "super"heroes I'm hilarious

Midas: Space Doorway CEO how do the adults notice Fenton then? did they notice an improvement in the kids' performance?

ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO or one of the kids says to another like "if you don't eat breakfast i'll tell Fenton"

Midas: Space Doorway CEO …..do you think he would pull the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" card then or nah?

soap possibly, another likely option is that food just appears around them punishment for skipping a meal is being surrounded by bread like that one kid from that one movie

Midas: Space Doorway CEO Danny: super gadgets? Kids: check Danny: homework to finish while on break? Kids: check.. Danny: did you have breakfast? Kids: uh, no..? Danny: unacceptable, check your pockets Kids: granola bars! with chocolate! Danny: of course, I'm not an idiot, I know how to trick my kids into eating their fiber it's the first time he referred to them as "his kids"

ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO aww soap awwww Midas: Space Doorway CEO you can bet they will tease him about it, but don't really mind soap wholesome crack Hades: Dani Todd CCO — 10/21/2022 3:28 PM Wholesome crack is the best kind Midas: Space Doorway CEO now imagine the kids doing that to the adult heroes they're super confused because "hey that's good advice, but I never taught you that wtf" soap they think their kid is "cheating" with a different mentor it all comes to a head when someone on the JL brings it up with another member in a meeting, in which Phantom is there, and it clicks that he never told either side who he actually was ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO they kind of are, but it's also just some rando they met soap JL Member 1, pointing at JL Member 2: you stole my kid! JL Member 2: I stole your kid? you stole my kid! Danny, realising that they're talking about him: :pikachu_batman: ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO the question is, does danny commit to the bit or does he tell the truth Midas: Space Doorway CEO COMMIT TO THE BIT soap obviously commit to the bit Midas: Space Doorway CEO Danny "extra" Phantom: if you stole their kid, and you stole theirs- who stole mine, huh? soap everyone: you have a kid?! Phantom: well, yeah, but someone stole them! ectoentity | Dino Facts CIO danny mentoring the kids: make sure you tell the truth to your responsible adults unless it's really funny soap the JL ask him about his kid and he describes their kids Midas: Space Doorway CEO HA soap JL Member: oh wow! it sounds like your kid would get along really well with mine! Danny, who has been describing their kid for the past hour: oh, really? Midas: Space Doorway CEO we're cackling like a devil right now that's hilarious LittleMrsCookie Danny (as Phantom) to Batman: I've recently started mentoring this Teenage Hero, now that I think of it, he reminds me of one of your Robins, but I'm sure it's a coincidence … (starts describing one of Batman's kids)

[bitchyfoxymama]

Who The Hell Is Moon Knight? - Moon boys x F!Avenger!Reader

Warnings: talks of the blip, Thanos, Tony, Natasha and Steve's Deaths, crying, brief mention of Jake, sorry if I make a part 2 he will he a bigger part of it. Not beta read!

A/n: ahh finally its done! I've had this one in my notebook ideas for weeks! So glad I finished it finally thanks to my wonderful friend @jupitersmoon167 who helped me co write this when I had hit writers block!

It’s been about a year since everything happened. A year gone without Tony, Natasha and especially Steve. Steve had been the first one to become friends with you when you first joined the Avengers. His leaving hurt you the most since he never gave you a proper goodbye.

You decided it was time for a fresh start, you all scattered really especially with the Sokovia accords having been recently overturned. You want to gather your thoughts and reevaluate what life might lead you too. If you could even call yourself an avenger still or if you would turn towards a life of being a vigilante like those you've heard of in Hell's Kitchen.

London is where your crisis sent you, you'd always wanted to visit but this visit had turned into a few weeks which turned into a permanent residence in London, just a few blocks from the local history museum.

It was a crisp March night when you were walking home from dinner, it was late, none of the buses were running for the rest of the night and you decided it would be better to just walk than spend money on an uber.

You could hear laughing in the distance as you were about to pass a bar.

You grip your purse a little tighter as you begin to pass. You don't want to have to cause a scene here, especially since you just want to lay low.

“Oi, what's a pretty dame like you doing out ‘ere all alone” one of the drunk men asks while stepping out into your path.

You kept your head down, you didn't want to engage with them. Just keep walking and you'll be fine, you tell yourself in your head. You continue walking however you notice that they've begun to follow you close behind.

“Hey! My friend here was talking to you! He deserves a response” another one says as he shoves you into the alley just past the bar.

“Look, I don't want any trouble, I just want to get home. Now if you let me, i'd really appreciate it” You say with you back to the brick wall.

“Well, looks like trouble found you after all, little darling,” the man who first called out to you spoke again, getting close enough for you to smell his alcohol ridden breath. You could feel the blade press closer to your neck, nicking the skin. You can feel the warmth of the blood trickling down your neck.

Your palm is against the brick wall and you can already feel the vines growing around you.

“I really didn't want to have to do this but you've left me no choice,” you begin to bring your hand up when another person joins you in the alley. This one dressed head to toe like a mummy with a cape and hood to match, a golden waning crescent on his chest.

He pulls a blade from his chest and throws it at the one who had just previously had the knife to your throat. The blade hits the knife causing him to drop it. You turn your attention to the other man who is about to hit the man in white. You cause a vine to wrap around his leg and pull, causing him to fall on his back, knocking him out in the process.

You turn to see the man in white knock out the other guy before he walks over to you. Before you have time to think or even wrap the mummy man in a vine he already has you in his arms and he's flying into the night sky.

When your feet touch solid ground once more, you are on a rooftop somewhere. You quickly push yourself out of his arms.

“And who the fuck are you?” you ask, once again bringing out vines from your palms.

He removes his hood and mask to reveal a rather handsome man with chocolate brown eyes.

“Uh Moon Knight?” he raised an eyebrow, shocked and a bit offended you've never heard of them.

“Who the hell is Moon Knight?” You give him a death glare, ready to fight once more when he changes appearances and facial expressions in the blink of an eye, this time he's wearing an all white three piece suit.

“Wait, I know you! You're bloody Mother Nature! You're an Avenger!” Steven says excitedly.

His excitement causes a blush to rise on your cheeks. Who the fuck was this guy seriously.

'Wait, Steven are you saying we saved someone who could have saved themselves?' Marc asks from the headspace.

'And she is gorgeous, and can kick ass? Hermano, ask her on a date.' Jake says coming out to see the ruckus.

“Yeah, so you know that I can kick your ass?” you say as you wrap his legs in vines.

“Wait a minute, time out.” Steven bargains creating the time out symbol with his hands, “Why don't we all just chill the F out.”

You stare at him, confused, before you are able another word he changes his accent back to an american one.

“Look, we don't want to fight you. We are the Avatars of Khonshu. We protect the travelers of the night. We thought you were in need of our help,” He begins to explain, only confusing you more.

“Let me stop you right there, why do you switch accents and keep saying us? Are there more of you so-called avatars?” you say quickly looking around.

“No, we-well I have DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Steven, he’s british. There is one other. His name is Jake, they're both co conscious with me right now,” He explains further, hope is in his eyes, hope that you believe him.

“I see. Okay, well it was swell to meet you,” you begin, bringing the vines from around his legs back to you.

“Marc, Marc Spector,” He sticks out his hand.

You shake it, his grip releases as his costume changes once more to a black and white style and he brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Hola, mi bonita mujer. My name is Jake Lockley,” you raise an eyebrow and the suave man.

“Flattery won’t get you far Lockley,” you smirk.

“Oh i like you,” he says smirking back before his expression changes into a sweet faced one and his costume changing back to the white three piece suit.

“Hello love, I’m Steven Grant. Huge fan of your work,” He gushes, causing a blush to creep up your neck.

You are about to speak again when the cold london breeze passes through you causing you to shiver. Steven is quicke to put his suit’s jacket over your shoulders.

“Would you like to come back to our flat for some tea?" Steven insists.

'Yes Hermano ask her back then we can play the long game' Jake says from inside the head space.

"I almost kicked your ass and you want me to come back home with you for tea? Hmm why not, I don't have friends here. But let me tell you boys. You try anything and I won't hesitate to wrap you up in vines,"

'Oooo I like her so much more now,' Jake smirks

'She sure is something else' Marc replies.

*****

Steven hands you a cup of tea while you sit on their worn couch. Many nights were spent on this couch due to Jake falling asleep watching the Yankees play.

“Thank you,” you took a sip of the tea, “So I guess you are wondering what an Avenger is doing in London?” You say looking up at Steven.

“We are but we don't want to pressure you into telling us darling. I know we just met.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“After Thanos happened, I was lost. I lost a lot of people, I was snapped away, so imagine my frustration and sadness to come back only to lose my family all over again. We all scattered, currently trying to rebuild and I just ran. I haven't had contact with any of them and it became too much too fast." tears fall from your eyes, you cough to try and cover up your tears. Steven surprises you, he wraps you in his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug.

When the two of you pull away you see a shift in his person, "I-we have baggage too. Not Avenger level baggage but baggage nonetheless," Marc speaks as he pulls back. You can tell there is more but you don't want to push it as you have just met them.

"You could use a friend while your here for however long that may be, and if you ever need a partner or help taking down the bad guys you always have us," he says with a small smile. You return one. You continue drinking your tea as you notice Marc doesn't drink.

"Not a big tea drinker, Spector?" You say over your cup.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, "more of a black coffee drinker," he says finally leaning forward to take a sip of tea grimacing as it hits his tongue, "Yeah definitely prefer coffee."

You nearly choke on your own tea at his reaction. This is what you had missed most after you came back. Hopefully life here in London with a fellow vigilante wouldn't be so bad.

"So why exactly do you dress like a mummy?"

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Just Another Day

Hey uhh… I’m not sure if my ask is mighty enough for the god of writing requests to see it but could you write a fic where everyone forgets or is too busy for Roman’s birthday? I’m totally not projecting… but the only way I know how to cope is to hurt my boy, bonus points if it doesn’t end with a surprise party – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: roman's birthday is forgotten and janus and virgil are kinda dicks

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3272

That's the funny thing about birthdays, isn't it?

To everyone else, it's just another day.

Roman wakes up, a smile already forming on his face.

Happy birthday, he thinks as he sits up, patting the red comforter and pillows, happy birthday!

After all, these are his creations, it's only fair that he wishes them a happy birthday as well. Although, he supposes technically their birthday would be when he created them, but it's just easier and more fun if they all celebrate together, right?

He quickly goes through his morning routine, putting on his prince costume and going to his makeup box. What does he feel like today, of all days, should he do the gold sparkle or the red sparkle? Or—oh, even better! The red sparkly as eye shadow and the gold sparkle as an enhancement to his blush! Yes, he's gotten a brand-new blush just for today, Virgil helped him pick it out, he can take a little bit of the gold shimmer and dust it over the top.

He can't stop grinning at himself in the mirror, oh, yes, he will be doing this look more often. He strikes his signature pose and—perfect!

A quick run-through of his fingers and his hair is artfully tousled, double-check that everything on his costume is right, and he's ready to go!

Oh, what is it they'll be preparing? A family breakfast? He does like getting to see everyone in the morning, maybe they'll all be down there already? Or a trip to the Imagination, he may or may not have been brushing up on some of the places he knows all of them love for just such an occasion. Or maybe they'll be baking! He hasn't had homemade desserts in forever, and now that he's started thinking about it, he can't get the taste of fresh chocolate chip cookies out of his head, or fresh flaky biscuits, or lemon bars…

Oh, he's made himself quite hungry.

As he strides to his door, he catches sight of his wide smile in the mirror.

"Happy birthday," he whispers to his reflection, and closes the door behind him.

***

    2.

He quickly rules out a family breakfast together, because the only one downstairs when he reaches the kitchen is Patton.

"Good morning!"

"Oh, goodness!" Patton startles, nearly dropping the spatula he's holding. "Roman, don't do that!"

"Sorry, dear Patton-cake," he says, swooping in to kiss his cheek, "just excited this morning!"

"I can see that."

Some part of Roman registers that Patton sounds far more annoyed than he does endeared, but it's lost in the tidal wave of it's my birthday! "What's on the menu this morning, Pat?"

"Well, I'm making an omelet." Sure enough, the eggy-cheesy-vegetable-y mess in the pan goes splat as Patton flips it over. "I don't know what you're going to have."

Oh. "I don't…really like omelets."

"I know, that's why this isn't for you."

Well, that definitely rules out breakfast. "Never fear! I will devise something else as equally delicious to me to have!"

Only with all of their eggs going into the omelet, there won't be enough left to bake anything else. Unless they've gotten more eggs in between last night when he checked the fridge and this morning, but he doubts it.

"Toast," he says triumphantly as Patton plates his omelet and—goes to leave the kitchen? "The breakfast of champions."

Yeah, Patton barely glances over his shoulder as he leaves, calling out: "Sure is, kiddo, good for you."

Roman frowns as Patton vanishes to the living room, hearing the tell-tale clink of the plate against the table as Patton sits down for his own breakfast. He looks back at the toaster, with its two slices of unassuming bread that are—smoking?

"Shit," he mutters, under his breath so Patton won't hear him, hitting the button and wincing as the two shriveled black husks pop up. He grabs a paper towel and disposes them, before deciding that it's his birthday, he can conjure up an English muffin to toast if he wants to.

"Roman," Patton calls just as he goes to toast it, "you're not summoning food in there, are you?"

"But—"

"We have rules about that, kiddo, you remember what happened last time."

"But it's just an English muffin, and my toast got—"

"Rules are rules, kiddo, it's not fair to everyone else if you get to break it. Besides, I know we have more bread."

But it's my birthday, he wants to say, but he can hear that Patton's already made his mind up, so he sighs and throws the English muffin out too. Oh, well, he'll just have to make sure these slices don't burn.

Chin up, he tells himself as he plates his slightly-less burned toast, it's still my birthday!

***

    3.

Trip to the Imagination is also quickly ruled out when Patton is long gone and no one else has arrived downstairs. That's…well, that's not great, but it is okay; he manages to watch a few of the videos he's been meaning to for a while before he gets up and goes in search of someone else.

Logan, maybe, what about Logan?

With another smile growing on his face, he bounds up the stairs. Oh, they could have a brainstorm! They could bounce ideas off each other just like they used to, they could spend the day watching one of the shows they'd been meaning to watch and critique it—there was this new movie that came out just a few weeks ago that they'd both said related to their individual projects—

By the time he reaches the outside of Logan's door, he's practically vibrating with excitement. He knocks—shave and a haircut, two bits—and waits, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes?"

"Logan!"

He thinks he hears Logan sigh but that must just be his chair or his notebook or something. "What is it, Roman, I'm in the middle of something."

"Oh. I, um, I had a question."

"Well, there's no use yelling through the door."

Is that—was that an invitation to come in? He can never tell with Logan anymore. "Can I come in?"

"That was the implication of what I just said, wasn't it?"

Roman carefully opens the door, smiling when Logan looks up—only for it to dim a moment later when Logan looks far more irritated than he'd expected. "Um—hi."

"What's the question?"

"There's, um, that movie that we were talking about came out a few weeks ago."

"That doesn't sound like a question."

"I was wondering if you—if you wanted to watch it?"

"For movie night?"

"N-no, just—just us. I miss talking about things with you."

"You do?" Logan eyes him skeptically over his glasses—his skepticles, Roman calls them in his head and fights not to laugh at his own joke. "When, next week?"

"I was, um, hoping we could do it today?"

Logan sighs, and it's definitely unmistakably a sigh this time, and turns back to his desk. "Roman, I'm busy today. We'll have to work it out later."

"But I—"

"No, Roman. We can watch something tonight at movie night, but I'm afraid I don't have time right now."

"…okay."

Roman closes Logan's door and sighs. Well, that's okay. He can hardly expect Logan to want to change his schedule for him, and he'd thought—well, he was mistaken about whether or not Logan was going to be part of the birthday morning. He'll see him this evening, like he said! That's gonna be really fun.

…really fun.

***

    4.

He runs into Janus and Virgil in the hallway and they both burst out laughing.

He blinks, caught off-guard, a small smile forming on his face as he tries to get the joke, only for Janus to look at him again and he only laughs harder.

"Oh, god, thank you, Princey," Virgil gasps, leaning against the wall for support, "I needed that."

"Needed…what?"

"That." Virgil gestures to his face. "You're funnier than we give you credit for, that's—whoa, that's great."

Janus, who is still laughing, just manages to say the words 'glitter clown' before he's off again, nearly sliding down the wall with how hard he's laughing.

Oh.

Oh.

A sick feeling starts twisting in Roman's stomach as they both start to come down from their laughter, still giggling. Virgil flaps a hand at him.

"You gotta warn me before you do something like that, man, I almost broke a rib."

"Have you been taking lessons from Remus?" A different hurt lances through him at Janus's words. "That's terrifying."

"How did you even do that, did you just shove your face into a bunch of glitter?"

"No."

"What," Janus laughs again, and it's not meant to be cruel—he hopes it's not meant to be cruel but it hurts worse than it did before, "did you wake up and decide to smear glitter all over your face for no reason?"

Then they realize he's not laughing.

"Oh," Janus says first, trying and failing miserably at keeping a straight face—and not just for the obvious reason— "oh, um…did you—did it not come off?"

"Yeah, did you, like, try and wash it off and then it stained? That can happen with some of the less expensive brands—"

"I know that."

"Shit, uh, yeah, I know." Virgil scratches the back of his head. "I, uh, I've got some more heavy-duty makeup remover if you wanna try it—"

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm sorry, Princey, I shouldn't have laughed so much, I know it was a mistake—" Virgil reaches for him— "lemme help you get it off—"

"It's fine," he mutters through gritted teeth and pushes past them. He doesn't even make it out of earshot before he hears them start laughing again.

He bursts back into his room and storms to the bathroom, ignoring the burning in his face as he fumbles blindly for his makeup remover—which is plenty strong, thank you very much—and scrubs at his face until the cotton pads fall apart. His prince costume is quickly soaked as he splashes water across his face, dripping down his neck and arms to the cuffs and collar. He keeps going, not minding how raw his face starts to feel, not until he knows for damn sure that every little speck of glitter is gone.

Screw them.

Screw them.

It's his birthday, and if they're all going to be absolute jackwagons then he's going to go into the Imagination and enjoy himself all on his own.

***

    5.

When he gets downstairs for movie night and sees them all there, looking at him, for one second, he thinks it might be a surprise party.

Then Logan adjusts his glasses and says: "Roman. You're late."

That last little ember of hope in his chest splutters and dies.

"Sorry," he mumbles, slinking over to the empty spot on the far side of the mattress and taking a pillow, "got distracted in the Imagination."

"Hey, at least you got all that glitter off you."

"Oh, good, I was wondering what that was about."

He wraps his arms around the pillow and tries not to think about how cold to the touch it is. "Yeah."

"Alright," Remus says, clapping his hands, "movie time!"

"What are we watching," Virgil asks, grabbing the remote and beginning to scroll through the various options, "are we going action, funny, mystery, animated…?"

Roman perks his head up a little. "Can we watch Love, Simon?"

"We've already seen that, Princey."

"Yeah, but—"

"What about The Meg?" Remus nudges Logan's side. "The sequel's coming out soon and we could get ready for it!"

"Wait, is that the giant shark one?"

"Yeah!"

"I suppose that's a good idea," Logan says and Roman's grip tightens on the pillow, "to prepare. I can only imagine how ridiculous the science of the sequel is going to be."

"Oh, you and I are gonna have a field day."

Roman's chest burns. "But we've seen that one already too."

"Sequel, Ro-Bro," Remus says without even looking at him, "there's gonna be a sequel."

"You've picked a lot recently," Patton adds, giving him a scolding look, "you can let Remus choose."

"But—"

"But nothing," Janus says smoothly, "Virgil, did you find it?"

"Yep!"

The Meg starts playing.

Logan puts his arm around Remus.

Patton starts playing with Remus's hair.

Janus whispers something that makes Remus chuckle and they start doing one of their inside jokes.

Virgil looks at Remus and smiles softly.

Roman is cold.

During one of the big shark fight scenes, he puts the pillow back on the couch and sinks out.

He curls up on his bed and pulls his red comforter—heh—snugly around his chin. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and pointedly turns away.

Happy birthday, he scoffs internally as he feels the tears well up, what a stupid thing.

***

    +1.

The Imagination remembered it was Roman's birthday.

Of course it did, Roman was its little prince, of course it remembered. It had been so lovely, playing with the not-so little prince again, creating a beautiful magical forest from him to explore, filled with marvelous critters and creatures alike for Roman to play with. And then a dragon, his dragon, his dragon he'd created was he was still a little prince; his dragon flew down and wished him a happy birthday in its own way, taking him flying and curling up around him on the top of the mountain, nuzzling him like he was part of its horde, which he was. But the little prince hadn't understood, hadn't known that was a happy birthday wish, and so when the little prince is crying all on his own, the Imagination takes matters into its own hands.

The door in Roman's room eases open, a soft twinkling sound waking him from his tear-induced dozing. He blinks, brow furrowing at the sight of it, before stumbling from the bed to the gentle light coming from within.

He pushes it open to see the resplendent tree, glimmering and glistening with a single swing hanging from a low branch. All around it spin galaxies, nebulas, cosmic wonders in an inky-purple sea of open sky. His breath leaves him in a rush and the Imagination coaxes him closer.

For you, it whispers as its little prince sits on the swing, marveling at the cosmos around him, all for you, little one, happy birthday.

It dries Roman's tears with soft, warm breeze, the tree branch beginning to gently swing him back and forth. The stars twinkle, the skies fill, and oh, that's better—Roman starts to smile.

All too soon, however, it starts to fade again and the Imagination rushes back—what's the matter, little prince, what's wrong? It's your birthday, you shall want for nothing, what do you need?

It carefully pokes and tests the various emotions radiation from its little prince and…ah. The little prince is lonely.

"Ro?"

Roman turns, eyes widening when he sees Remus. "Re?"

"Whoa," Remus mumbles, taking in the tree and its surrounding wonders, "this is cool as fuck, Roro."

"Um…thanks."

"Seriously, how long have you been working on this? This is—I've never seen the Imagination like this before."

The little prince fumbles for something to say and when he tugs wordlessly on the swing for help, the Imagination obliges. A tendril from higher up in the tree slowly lowers, a single red and gold sparkly cupcake nestled in its grasp. A candle burns atop it, and Roman's breath catches in his throat.

"What's that?" Remus comes up over his shoulder just as Roman reaches for the cupcake. "Whoa—wait, Roro, is it—"

Yes, the Imagination whispers.

"Ro," Remus asks, voice small and soft, "was…was today your birthday?"

"…yeah."

"Fuck," Remus bites out, before storming a few feet away and raising his voice, "we're all fucking horrible, get in here!"

"Language!"

"Remus!"

"Hey, what the hell?"

"Speak for yourself, Remus!"

"No," Remus barks, his hands on his hips as he glares at the various pajama-clad Sides in front of him, "we are all horrible because we just forgot today was Ro's birthday and we're gonna figure out some way to make it up to him!"

"Wait, fuck—"

"That was today? I thought it was next week!"

"Is that—oh, that's why you wanted to spend time with me—"

"Shit."

Roman just sits quietly, unwrapping his cupcake as the Imagination swings him gently back and forth. He seems to like the nebula just off the edge of the cliff, beneath his feet, and so it makes it sparkle a little more, clouds of cosmic dust swirling back and forth.

"Ro," Remus says as the others keep worrying, "I'm really sorry."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine. You went to bed crying on your birthday and none of us noticed. I didn't notice, that's not okay." Remus ruffles his hair. "What can I do?"

"You don't have to do anything."

"But—"

"Look," Roman says, looking up at him, "I don't—having stuff happen because you guys feel bad isn't going to help. I don't want your pity. Or your groveling, whatever you want to call it. There's always next year."

"You shouldn't have to wait a whole year to do stuff you want because we were assholes," Virgil says as the rest of them come closer, "it doesn't—fuck, it doesn't have to be a birthday thing, but do you wanna…I dunno, just schedule some stuff to do with us?"

Roman shrugs.

"You sure?"

"You guys are busy," he mumbles, still toying with his cupcake, "I get it. It's just a day."

"It's not just a day," Patton says, "it's supposed to be your day. If you want to do something—"

"That didn't work out super well for me, did it?" He glances over his shoulder and back down to the cupcake. The Imagination ruffles his hair with another warm breeze. "It's okay. You guys are busy."

"I'm not," Virgil says, "I've got nothing."

"Same here," says Patton, and he hears Janus hum.

"I can spend time with you," Logan starts and Roman just laughs.

"I know for a fact that's not true."

"…it is, actually," Janus mumbles and Roman's shoulders hunch.

"I'd like to be alone, now, please."

"Roman—"

"Now."

And the Imagination obliges, shuttling all of them outside and quickly calling Roman's dragon to come and cuddle him. It comes, chuffing softly and nuzzling his hair, blowing warm air over his bare legs as it curls up next to the swing and rests its head in his lap.

"You were saying happy birthday earlier," he mumbles, stroking the ridges on its head, "weren't you?"

The dragon snuffles in confirmation, nudging the cupcake. Roman laughs, a little strangled, and takes a bite.

"Thank you."

Anything for you, the Imagination whispers as the dragon purrs, anything for you.

Remus is waiting when Roman returns to his room, sitting on his bed in his pajamas with his stuffed Kraken. He looks up when Roman enters and holds out his arms.

"Come cuddle," he says when Roman still hovers by the door, "please?"

"Why?"

"'Cause you're my bro and I love you and you look like you need a cuddle."

"…okay."

Remus is big and warm and soft, and Roman curls up in his brother's arms. The Imagination keeps the galaxies spinning outside his window, his dragon keeping watch as the two of them drift off to sleep.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[bi4pan-polls]

I would like to present, for your consideration, Stephanie Lauter and Peter Spankoffski from Hatchetfield.

Steph has been confirmed to be canonically pan by her actress, Pete has huge bi vibes (and is sorta implied to be transmasc?)

Hatchetfield is a horror anthology series. So far there are three musicals and eight episodes of a webshow, and everything but the most recent musical is currently available for free on YouTube. Steph and Pete have two major appearances.

The first is in the web episode Abstinence Camp, a Friday the 13th spoof. At the start of the episode, they're both forced to attend a Christian summer camp, an idea that they hate bond over. They've got a bit of banter and hit it off well. Highlights include Steph giving him contraband chocolate bars when the counselors don't care about his lowering blood sugar, Pete agreeing she got the short end of the stick in her situation, and the both of them being generally pretty snarky together.

There's a scene where Steph decides to test the camp's rules (and get some privacy) by showering in the boys' washroom. Pete is the only one there, and his first instinct is to do the respectful thing and let her be in there alone, only staying to finish cleaning when she insists it's okay if he's in there. (They have more banter, she finds out just how hot he is when you actually get a good look at him. He's described as jacked in this scene, but due to a recast, this is most certainly retconned. Still a cute moment between them). It culminates in them deciding to test the ghost story running around the camp that doing anything remotely sexy will get you killed by a spirit living in the woods, but are caught before anything can happen. Between getting into trouble and the audience knowing that there have already been other deaths, it's for the best that Steph plans to make an escape. What's sweet, though, is that she makes a point to get Pete to come too.

Throughout the whole climax of the story they both actively try to protect each other. Pete yells at the Axe-Man to leave Steph alone, she shields him from harm when he accidentally breaks his leg. By the end of the story they're both still alive, and are actively aware they're the only ones who know just how fucked up the camp is. It's implied they keep protecting each other that whole summer.

(If there are any Hatchetfans reading this and you haven't seen NPMD yet, here is your spoiler warning.)

Their most recent appearance is in the newest Musical, Nerdy Prudes Must Die. NPMD is also a slasher spoof, but with a twist: the nerds are in danger and the rebellios and popular "bad kids" are on the killer's good side.

The whole show happens because in this timeline, Steph and Pete meet when she asks to cheat off of his bio test.

Two things to note about that. 1. Despite Steph being the most popular girl and Pete being one of the most unpopular kids in all of Hatchetfield High, she already knows his name. 2. It does not take much convincing for him to agree. They get caught, and are sent to detention. Pete freaks out, not because he got in trouble, but because now he's in with a popular girl (the mayor's daughter, no less) and it's going to get him unwanted attention from the kids that pick on him. They have more banter, like in AC, to the point Pete doesn't know how well it's going until Steph says that he's funny and admits she likes funny guys. This sticks with Pete enough he decides to wear nicer clothes and crack jokes more often, even when just with his friends. They even ask if he's trying to impress someone.

Steph calls him. From a payphone.

For someone who never gave Pete a second thought before, she sure did already know is name AND number. Are we sure you didn't already have an eye on him, Steph?

She asks him to give a proper study session, and he agrees, in part due to his friends telling him that sparks were flying. He ends up singing a whole song about wondering if he's really cool enough to hang out with her.

Pete ends up getting beat up by his biggest bully (Max Jagerman) on the way, and when Steph finds out, she gets VERY righteous. She says she's not going to let Pete put up with bullying anymore and offers to step in (even though Pete doesn't think it will do much). Before they really have a chance to do anything, another student (Grace Chasity) offers up her own revenge plan that inadvertently ends up killing Max. Max ends up coming back as a ghost with a grudge against nerds, since everyone that was there when he died (besides Steph) was an unpopular nerd.

They share a lot of banter up until the first death, when things become more serious by necessity. Still, they both do a pretty bad job of covering up their crushes, and end up having a duet arguing over who has the bigger crush and why a relationship would never work between them the way things are right now (note: Pete says he felt almost seduced by her, Steph admits she's into smart guys and knows he's an intellectual type).

As the show goes on, Steph is actively protecting him like in AC, encouraging him to stay behind her in case something happens.

Steph, Pete, and Grace end up being the last three survivors of the main cast, and strike a deal with beings called The Lords in Black. The Lords will take Max to the afterlife for good if one of the teens gives up what they cherish most. Pete and Steph have a crisis, because now they have to admit to each other that okay maybe they are sorta in love, and have to decide who will die for the other. Pete insists that he do something worthwhile for once and save everybody by being the sacrifice. And Steph, despite her heartbreak, agrees.

LUCKILY Grace prevents that by saving the day in the funniest way possible. Too amazing to spoil (and also because I've barely gone into her subplot this whole time). But Steph and Pete make it out together. And they're grateful for it. And they even get to go to homecoming together.

By then end, they've decided they can make it work and have a song about being able to bring out the best in each other. (Special shoutout to the lyrics "I’m the best of you / And you’re the best of me / And together we are free / To run around" and "Its like you knew me / Before you knew me / Its like you saw me / Before you saw me")

(Hatchetfans, spoilers end here)

In conclusion, stan Lautski

(sorry for putting a whole essay in your inbox, op)

Was given permission to post this*

They seem. So hecking cool honesty love this for them I will also encourage other people to submit them

Propaganda for Stephanie Lauter and Peter Spankoffski from Hatchetfield.

[dandydiary]

🐚 🪽 (traveling question) and 🦢 !

answering with dandy cause hes on my mind!

🐚 : do you give each other gifts often? what's your favorite thing they've given you? what's their favorite thing you've given them?

i think dandy is a romantic go to; meaning he'd get wonder chocolates, flowers, lingerie (which she gets so flustered about she hits him with the box) - really stereotypical stuff. it helps wonder lives off sweet stuff so she's always VERY happy to get anything sugary from him. her favourite is these like... outer-galaxy special order chocolates he gets her that are like SO expensive. she still has the tin

wonder would pick him up various things from rest stops and local stores, a lot of little things that build up and show she's always thinking about him. for holidays, birthdays, ect, she'd get him things related to his hobbies like surfing and music. i think his favourite gift from her is either a pair of sunglasses she's bought that were very expensive, that he only wears on special occasions OR a specific record he mentioned one time that she went and hunted for across like... multiple planetary systems. and finally found in some secondhand store ages away

🪽 : do you and your f/o enjoy traveling together? do you do it often? what's your favorite place that you've traveled with them?

OH THEY LOVE TRAVELLING TOGETHER. anytime they can they take off on bounties together, probably as more of an excuse to hang out(and the fact they're both dirt poor LOL). whwnever they're in the same galaxy they meet up. wonder usually docks in the aloha-oe and hangs out on the ship because hers is much smaller by comparrison.

i truly think wonder would love anywhere that has like rural towns or smaller cities. her planet is KNOWN for its expansive city scapes and night life, but she's not accustomed to nature as much so she likes a nice middle. she'd love meow's planet for example, and keeps asking to visit even though last time the group got stuck in a timeloop 👍

saying that i think dandy would LOVE planet ursaalien, wonder's planet, because of what i mentioned above. whilst wonder's alien race (meohmies) are the main inhabitants, because of the increased lack of greenery a lot of the natural wildlife is now domesticated to these big dazzling cities and seeing it all intermingle is a spectacle in itself. lot of places to drink, lot of places to party... but he'd never tell wonder his favourite place is where she grew up because that makes him look too sentimental.

🦢 : do you both enjoy classically romantic dates? what's your favorite date you've been on with your f/o?

i don't think wonder would have been on a classic date UNTIL dandy, so when he starts taking her out on them she's in completely new territory and she's so flustered about it. i think this makes their early dates their best dates, because dandy loves how flustered she is compared to her usual self and wonder is overwhelmed at feeling spoiled like that. honestly their first REAL date was probably like dinner at a decently fancy resteraunt on whatever planet they were on at the time.

it's a nice atmosphere but serves small portions and an extortionate drink and dessert menu, so after the main course they go in their fancy dinner attire to get doughnuts and hit up a little bar tucked away somewhere. they're there the end of the night anmd it is the best date either of them have been on in a while. (or in wonder's case, ever)

[lavenoon]

Hello! Just read the newest alt reveals post and omg. ok, ok, ok, but like the first one with Sun just stayed with me so much, because the fact that in this version y/n isn't as close with both of them as they are in the main verse makes it so tense! Like sure their rivalry is important and they can be little bastards together XD and y/n likes Moon, but Sun isn't as playful and didn't get to be the sweet neighbor and Moon didn't appear as a approachable as a tenant and didn't get the playful banter. Like I wonder what Sun would do if he learned that Robin really did think he was aiming for their position and the whole dynamic now is taking them so much by surprise. Because now Sun can be sweet and not hold them at an arms length, but that kind of whiplash would be hard for y/n to get used to. Ironically enough, it seems it would be a bit harder for Sun in this scenario to get closer, because now they have a good reason for Moon to let himself be known, something y/n wanted, and they can start more of that playfulness, but I see Robin having a lot more trouble changing course with Sun, and dropping all the walls they made, because maybe deep down they wanted him to at least like them, but kept telling themself that wasn’t the case at all. Lots of frustration and feelings and trying not to let Sun see them working through them all. But he probably would anyways haha!

So first of all, I want to link to the now posted tidbits - because there's some relevant lines in there.

So Sun is VERY aware that he has an uphill battle to win here, but hey, that's fine, he's determined! And, frankly, he's been fighting that battle since he scared Robin out of that banterful rivalry and into a more serious, tense one. The fact that they're now also neighbors and he gets to show sides of him that aren't aligned with what he projects as secret agent actually makes it a less uphill battle. It may give Y/N mental whiplash at first, but he'll make sure they get used to it, and learn to trust that part if him (too).

He does try not to let it get to him that Y/N and Moon seem much much closer much sooner - even as rivals, Moon is still just a menace and gets that lighthearted bickering, rather than actual suspicion.

Moon may actually help him, just a bit - subtly. Brings up stories that are maybe embarrassing for Sun, things he wouldn't tell Y/N for his pride's sake - but Moon doesn't have that issue. "He insisted on buying the goodies for your gift basket himself. I was supposed to be in rest mode, instead I had to help him decide whether to get the chocolate cereal bars or the fruit ones." "... I got both." "Yeah." (in a very tired and resigned to his fate kind of tone). Anything that makes Y/N laugh, and maybe see their og rival in a slightly different light - he is kinda silly, he's just a really good agent, too, and that's what they've got to see until then

Certain stories may also make it click that his concern always was genuine - the little "You look tired, sweetheart"s undercover (they thought he was playing his role), the "I can hardly follow our person of interest into a café, I'm an animatronic. You go, and don't forget to order something to drink, to make it believable"s (they thought he insisted on telling them how to do their job), all those little moments that suddenly get a second meaning.

And then Sun does the neighborly thing (since Moon already set the precedent) and brings over food - like the tradition to gift salt and bread when someone moves! Completely backwards since Sun and Moon were the ones moving in and Y/N does point that out - but he just shrugs and goes "Well, what would we do with bread and salt?" and they can hardly argue

Y/N: Is this poisoned?

Sun: *offended gasp* I'm appalled, you'd think that of me?

Y/N: We are rivals. And neighbors. Seems kind of obvious.

Sun: That's why I'm offended, darling. You really think I'm that uncreative? You haven't been eating enough, anyway, and we have that high stakes mission next week, I want you in top form.

Y/N: You are so weird.

(But they do take the bread. It's good bread.) (Despite their accusation, they do see this for what it is - an attempt to mend a bridge in the clumsiest/ most obvious way, with his only saving grace being his projected confidence.)

And if they ever had that talk about their rivalry and Robin's expectations?

Robin: I just thought you were aiming for my spot. I worked hard to get where I am, I couldn't just let a rookie outdo my like that.

Dawn: My precious, precious little rival. I like my position, exactly where I am.

Y/N: Yeah? And where is that?

Dawn: Next to you.

And he is - now that they pay attention to it. He doesn't try to keep them in his shadow, and he also doesn't stay in theirs - he wants them, and he wants as much of them as he gets, without any "Oh no but we can't, they deserve better, I shouldn't -" No.

Both in canon and in reverse, Post-reveal Sun gets greedy. He has no issues about sharing with Moon, because that's what they've always done, but beyond that he's only giving towards some select few, and he "selected"/ chose Y/N. He had to accept the futility of his choice before, assuming the rules they work with prevent them from ever really getting anywhere, but when that argument becomes moot?

He doesn't care how long it'll take - he'll work to earn Y/N's trust (trust they want to give), and he'll gladly wait for them.

[attackonmarty]

Chapter 2

Heaven was as beautiful as he remembered. Apart from that time when he discorporated by accident, he was missing from there for a long time.

When he discorporated, he came back to Earth as a spirit just to meet Crowley and tell him about his bookshop. God Father he was going to miss his bookshop so much.

"I lost my best friend." How could he have been so stupid and blind not to understand what he was trying to tell him?! But it was too late for regret. It was too late to look back and see what he had lost, maybe forever.

No, not forever. There was still hope, nothing can kill hope. And he still hoped to convince Crowley to turn back to be an angel and live with him. He was taking Gabriel's place after all! And he had the second coming to prepare. He would have had so much power to convince Crowley to change his mind.

"You idiot. We could have been... us."

The memory of that kiss made him blush. Not for the kiss itself but because Crowley opened up to him so much. He didn't expect a demon like Crowley to be like that. But who was he trying to fool? For how many years had they known each other? And how many signals had been captured, over time? How could he say he didn't see that conversation coming? And how did he dare to say I forgive you? For what? For being honest? For saying the right things at the right time? Why on earth did Aziraphale answer like that?

Because you needed to go take Gabriel's place, suggested a voice in his head. Because you desperately needed your superiors to notice you. Because your life on Earth was starting to bore you!

He bowed his head and followed Metatron through the offices.

"This will be yours, Aziraphale. I'm sure you will make good use of it. I'll send someone to call you when we're ready to start a reunion."

Without waiting for an answer, he went out.

Aziraphale sat at his new desk. The chair was comfortable... not that he expected anything different from the archangel Gabriel.

If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it... go off together...

He shut out that thought before his mind could complete it.

He was an Angel who was called to do his duty. If he was too stupid to understand what he wanted to do worse for him.

First of all, he needed new clothes. If he wanted other angels to accept him and respect him, he needed to look more like one of them and less like a human.

His fingers snapped twice: the first time a tunic replaced his taftan suit, the second time made his wings grow back. Aziraphale felt reborn.

He felt like he waited centuries for that moment to happen, and the joy almost broke his heart.

Somebody entered the office. It was one of the Ishim who bowed.

"I apologise, sir" the angel said in a whisper. "Metatron said to bring you a cup of coffee. He said that you enjoy drinking coffee very much."

She handed him a steaming cup.

"Oh, thank you so much, my dear." He didn't have the heart to say he always preferred hot chocolate (even though his all times favourite was red wine), so he took the coffee and had a sip of it.

It had a funny taste like the one he took from Nina's bar. Aziraphale knew how the coffee tasted, and it was definitely not like that. But maybe it was because he always put too much sugar in it, and that was instead the correct way to have it he couldn't tell.

"So, my dear," he said, noticing that the Ishim didn't leave yet "what are the orders from Metatron, now?"

"I don't know, sir," she said, blushing. Her voice cracked "I am an Ishim, my job is just to speak to humans, so I cannot say what are the plans of lord Metatron. I can ask him to tell you what to do, though..."

"That would be great, thank you." he smiled but felt that was one of the fakest smiles he ever made.

As the one he made to Metatron when he showed him the elevator that would bring them to heaven. The Ishim left with a bow.

Really, now what? What had he hoped to do without Crowley? He was right, they've always been a two. They worked together, had the same ideas at the same time, and when one of them didn't know what to do, the other was there to support him with precious hints. Now he was completely on his own in a place he barely recognised, having to deal with the... second coming? The first time was already a disaster, the son of a carpenter started speaking gibberish and he was crucified because of his ideas, with a little help from Crowley. The real Son of the Almighty hadn't been taken into consideration, and humanity seemed to be doomed. That was a great victory for Hell, everyone said that even in Heaven. That was why the Archangels had a great hope in the Apocalypse.

But a second coming? Could humans bare it? They escaped the coming of the Antichrist twice, was that the right thing to do?

"Of course it is... it's the son of the Almighty we're talking about" he muttered, snapping his fingers. A tiny plant appeared on the white desk. Why was a plant the first thing that came to his mind? Why couldn't have that been the poster of a movie? A record player? A plate of crêpes? Why everything he did reminded him of the friend he had lost?

[khodorkovskaya]

13.03.23

yesterday was a very thought provoking day so i want to tell you guys about it! lots of stuff about growing up/coming of age, relationships, etc, all that good stuff!

so i went ice skating with my oxford/france bestie and my student as we do every sunday and it was so much fun! im getting more and more confident on the ice! and it was great, i love spending time with friends when we're doing something like an activity , like something with a purpose you know.

then we went to get hot chocolate as we always do and since my student's wife wasn't there, he spilled some tea! we started talking about relationships bc my london bestie was in town this weekend and her bf finally got his visa so he came to our town for the first time ever! it was his first time outside of the uk and his home country so we were all very excited! but anyway, we started talking about relationships bc to be completely honest with you, im not a fan of my bestie's bf, but i'll get to that in a sec. and my student said that he's only been in love 3 times in his life. when we asked him what about his wife, he said it's not really love as in romantic or sexual love, they're just really good companions. and... they've never had sex! which honestly kinda changes my perspective on their whole thing, but also not really. he said they've only ever done kink stuff together bc they're into latex and things like that. and since she's so much younger than him, he's never wanted to have sex with her. as he desciribed it, he's not a zizi kind of guy i.e. he's uninterested in sex in general. and yeah, ive always thought he was somewhere on the asexual spectrum and this confirmed it. anyway, that was a fun fact.

now back to my london bestie and her boyfriend, im not a fan of the guy frankly. he comes off as really uninteresting and they have this whole mother-son dynamic going on, i really don't get it. he's boring and unattractive and also probably asexual or maybe gay bc he's uninterested in sex with my bestie. so i was looking forward to seeing her and i was happy that her bf could finally come to our country, but i would've preferred it if i could talk to my bestie one-on-one without his company yknow? and then my bestie also messaged me saying that she invited another friend of ours to come hang out with us and again... i feel like such a bitch but the friend she invited is just... so uninteresting. the girl has no values and sure, she'll laugh at your jokes and talk about anything, but i can't stand her superficiality. every time i hang out with her i feel like im wasting my time.

so on my way to the bar i was already imagining all the dumb conversations we're gonna be having and how bored i was gonna be, already trying to make up excuses about how i could get myself out of this and go home and work instead of gargling air with two of the most uninteresting people i know. and i felt so shitty because i was supposed to be looking forward to seeing my bestie and i was supposed to be happy about her boyfriend's visa and i was supposed to be happy about seeing that other friend bc i haven't seen her in ages. but i was just dreading it so much oh my god. i don't know what it is. am i a bitch? am i pretencious and arrogant and do i think too highly of myself? i felt awful. and even my ed thoughts were coming up on my way there. i was like "ooo im skipping lunch today im gonna be so skinny yay". like wtf. i wanted to be happy about seeing my bestie but instead i felt guilty and just wanted to go home and work...

anyway, as anticipated, i was bored out of my mind... her boyfriend's attitude was pissing me off. i asked them what they've done these past two days, like what they've visited and what their plans were. and they said that they went to the old town, walked around the lake, ate at mcdonalds and drank wine. which is fine i guess but like... there's so much to do around here and so many things to see! you can have mcdonalds and wine in london and tbh the old town is not really worth visiting if you don't know anything about it, like it's just a couple of pretty houses, it's gonna be boring if you just walk around aimlessly. like idk if i had two days to show our city to someone who's never been, i would've done so much more idk. and then the bf was like "yeahhh this place is boring it's not for me" and when i asked him why, he said that it's because there are a lot of pubs in london and not a lot around here. like duh of course if your only priority is drinking ofc you're gonna be bored anywhere you go. idk that really annoyed me. plus they didn't even go out at night so he didn't even have a point of comparison. like sure, we don't really have pubs like as in english pubs, but we have a lot of cool bars and clubs and other fun night time activities. like i invited them to the disco on ice on saturday, which is sooo much more fun than drinking wine at home come on! but they said no! and our town is the boring one, all right!

then my bestie invited me over for dinner with her parents and her ukrainian friend. and as the night went on the more and more i kept realising that i don't have much in common with her anymore. and it was so heartbreaking bc we grew up together. we had so many integral life moments together but now it seems that they weren't so integral after all. and it sucks because no one else is gonna know what i was like growing up and it feels like such an important part of me. she's the only one who's seen this part of me and yet it has no importance anymore because we barely have anything in common now.

idk it sucks and there's not much to say. we have different lives, different views, different priorities... and i really felt like the odd one out because at the dinner table everyone was kinda on the same page (except for the parents bc they're getting divorced lol but that's another story). at one point bestie's mum asked me where i was at with my studies. she asked me if i still give language lessons and do catsitting and i was like not really. i have one student who's become a friend now and for the cats thing, if my neighbour asks me ofc im gonna help out. but im not actively looking for these kind of jobs like i did in highschool because duhh im an adult now and im working. and then the mum was like "yeah, you should stop doing that. let's find you a real job" and it really like... upset me. because what about our business? no one seemed to care or ask me any questions about it. "where's you shop again?", "you sell clothes???" like guyssss this has been my family's life for years now! and im pretty vocal about what we've been doing and the project we're working on. and yet no one cares. i don't know, it made me really upset. as if everything we've been working on is not serious. as if getting a "real job" is the only thing that matters.

i don't know, i feel like there's a lot to say but there isn't much to say... it's just that me and my bestie have grown apart. and it hurts. it hurts that i can't relate to her anymore. and i don't understand her lifestyle or her opinions or her way of viewing the world. no, i do understand. but it's so unlike me. we don't value the same things. and it sucks.

and then the ukrainian girl was talking about how she went to dubai and how it's the place to be and how she's looking for a husband. and again, i just cannot relate. and felt so left out. like i don't know, ive gone through so much these past couple of months and it's incredible. but i can't share it with anyone because no one cares. everyone has different priorities... my bestie has an office job she's comfortable at, her boyfriend complains about life and wants to move to canada to find himself, bestie's mum is leaving her husband to go live with her lover and worries about how because of the war in ukraine her job's been intense, the ukrainian girl is trying to find a husband in dubai meanwhile her hometown has been destroyed. and i... well.... i can't even explain it.

i suddenly felt really scared of being alone for the rest of my life. i remembered coming home to B and feeling like i had my person. it felt nice imagining that i was not alone because i had him. but ive always felt lonely with him. but coming home and cuddling with him was nice. im scared that i'll never find my person, someone who can see and understand me, all of me. for now the only people i can relate to are "weirdos" like my student and my oxford/france bestie. they're so much fun! but is this how it's supposed to be? how do i fit in with normal people? how do i become normal?

anyway, i walked home and cried and felt very alone.

and then i had a dream about B and how i came home and he wasn't there so i called him and said "i can't do this anymore, it's either me or [his business name]". i woke up feeling satisfied that i had finally said it. but it's too late now, our relationship can't be repaired. and i can't set any ultimatums anymore and make him choose, because i chose to leave. and he chose himself. and im gonna be alone.

[persoj]

People have entered and exited this café since I started running it. Most look terrified as they enter, wary of this new environment. I find the best thing to do is smile, sit them down with a cup and explain the whole thing to them. I have a script for it now, almost fully memorised. Usually goes a little like this:

"Here, have a cup. Sit down. My name is Ava. I run this café. Right now, you're not quite alive. You're not dead, don't panic yet. But here is where most come before they pass on. Most people who come in here usually make it out alive, though. At the moment, there's probably someone trying to save your life in a hospital or something. Imagine that! Or maybe you've been put in a coma. Like [Name] over there, they've been here for [Amount of time]. Why don't you go and talk to them? They can probably answer some of your questions."

At the moment, the person who I usually refer them too is Jamie. He's been here for about 2 weeks. Keeps to himself for the most part, unless I send someone over. Then he opens up a bit. He told me that he finds comfort in knowing that he'll probably never meet these people face to face. And even if he does, they won't know what he looks like. That's the fun thing about this place. You don't ever look like yourself, not unless you really want to. I think I've changed my appearance about 70 times since I opened this place. Can't even remember what I looked like. I'm pretty sure I was blonde or brunette or something, but I can never be fully sure.

It's been about 10 years since I opened the shop. I've seen lots of people come and go. Some older people (the older ladies are always so nice), some middle aged, some who look too young to be dying. That's the saddest part. Seeing the smaller ones. Teens, little kids, toddlers, even babies. Everyone feels sad when a child comes through. The whole café sort of just quietens, and everyone comes to talk to them and comfort them. The babies are always held and rocked, and everyone gives them a hug before leaving them with me. I have a room in the back just for the babies. The toddlers will usually play with each other, or just the adults in general. Usually puts a smile on people's faces. It can also really help when a new person walks in. Jittery, jumpy, and shaking. Then a toddler approaches them, asking them to play with toy cars. It's always very cute, and the person calms down almost immediately. The kids always seem a little scared. Stranger Danger makes them wary, as it should. But they learn to trust you eventually. Once you've talked to them, gained their trust and handed them a lollipop or chocolate bar or two, they calm down. The teens are easy enough. They're old enough to be told what's happening to them. You sit them down, explain things whilst you bend at their knees, answer what few questions they may have, then leave them in the corner with a drink. They tend to just sit and contemplate. Most young adults do, as well.

Some try to ask me about my story. I rarely tell them. Only if they end up somehow staying here more than a month. After that time frame, they've earned the privilege. I tell them about the accident, the large truck that rammed into me. I tell them about the coma I've been in for the last ten years. I tell them about the people who come and go, and about my family. My parents, my wife, my brothers and sisters and friends and just everyone I can think of. Just because I rarely tell the story, doesn't mean I don't want to. I tell them everything. My entire life, from start to near-finish. It's always liberating.

Anyways, there's a new customer coming in. I think I'm going to give them a blue cup.

Thank you for reading this far if you did :) I'm very new to tumblr and to writing, so any tips are appreciated!

You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.

[armideleonblogs]

Hi, my name is M and I've been in a toxic and abusive situationship.

If I may be honest, I thought I was too smart and too strong to be a victim of this kind of destructive situationship. However, I didn't realize that it's what's happening until it got to a point where I've become toxic myself.

The relationship started online and it was all flowers and chocolates. Everything fit like a glove, it was perfect. Until little by little, I saw signs of manipulation. The person would just tell me that they're going out and I'd have no right to ask who they're with, where, what time they'd be home, or anything for that matter. Then they'd say that I'd been told, I probably just forgot. And they'd leave to party at 8pm and be home at 7am the next day.

When confronted, I was told that I was controlling and selfish. I was told that it seemed that I wanted to have their world revolve around me. I explained that I just wanted to know if they were safe and if they could update me because I worry. They were adamant that I should "chill" and trust them. So I did. And it continued for weeks and weeks on end. Parties left and right and they'd tell me at the last minute. They'd be wasted and sleeping at the bar or the club until they are able to drive home. I was beginning to get uncomfortable, so I expressed that if they need to be like that, I might as well leave the situationship. And for some time, they've adjusted to reason, but still not taking accountability and not admitting that their previous behavior was poor.

Then there came fights over the pettiest things like "How come you did not reply to me but replied to this person?" or "Can I see who you've been talking to?" There have been so much distrust and assumptions. And if I say something to make her feel as though she's at fault, she is very reactive. She says rude and very disrespectful things, would not stop trying to call you when you are not in the proper mindset to talk about things, she'd twist my words so it would appear like I was the one attacking her and remind me of all of my previous faults to make me feel guilty.

Worst, it got to a point where she's threatened to exploit my secrets to the world if I don't admit to everything being my fault. And the more we fought, the more I see a side of me that I don't recognize anymore. I look in the mirror and I loathe what I see, but I couldn't get away because I thought that if I explained my side better, if I make her see that both of us need to adjust, maybe, just maybe.... we'll be able to sort it out and fix what should be fixed.

Then a time came that I was strong enough to break up with them and intended to make it as smooth and pain-free as possible, it took some time. Months, I'd say, before it actually sunk in. We maintained contact and I thought that it would be okay to do so. I wanted to make sure she was okay, too. That I didn't burden her with too much hurt so she can move on as well. But it did not go as I intended, there are days, very rare days, that she's pleasant and seem to be accepting of the situation... but the days where she's unpleasant and angry, and ugly, are much too often to ignore.

She would recount all the ways she feels I hurt her. Recounting the smallest of details even the ones that happened some years ago, to which she said she's already forgiven and moved on. She would recall all of the efforts she's made for me and all of the things she's done for me. She would use my words against me, like how I would try my best to be patient with her and tell me that I didn't even try. She would tell me that I was a liar for telling her I loved her and yet one small threat to my mental health, I back away and give up. She told me all these things and still continued to threaten my peace by declaring that she would exploit my wrongdoings to all of our friends if we didn't get back together.

That's when I ghosted her. Is it wrong? Am I wrong for doing so? I did warn her before that last argument. I told her that one last fight and I will remove myself from her toxic narrative and still she tried to undermine me so I stopped replying to her messages and emails.

I blocked her on all my social media platforms, blocked her numbers on all of my mobile numbers, and blocked all of our common friends. I care not for what she tells other people or if, indeed, she'd tell everyone my secret. I care for my personal wellbeing and mental health. I did try to help her accept what happened, but I think there was only so much I could do. I had to save myself. I had to leave.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Hart and Hunter - Chapter 18 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Julian Hart

"Freya says she'll come," Dane tells me the following morning when I emerge from the shower and join him in the kitchen. 

I've quickly learned to do most things with one hand but I see he's made me breakfast and take a seat as he serves me biscuits, scrambled eggs, sausages and fruit. 

"Great. She can help me with the mountains of food you keep dropping in front of me," I say, lifting my brows at the Dane-sized portion on my plate. 

"You need good nutrition to heal. Not grab-and-go breakfast bars." 

"Those bars have 13 grams of protein," I counter, shoveling fluffy eggs into my mouth.

"It's like a complete meal." 

"No, it's not. Good food doesn't come in rectangles." 

"What about chocolate?" 

"Chocolate's an ingredient." 

I roll my eyes and give up.

He has strangely strong opinions about food and he can keep them.

Besides, he's a much better cook than I am and I'm not complaining. 

"Ingrid's out already?" 

He nods.

"She took your car. I think it's love." 

I laugh.

"Wait till it breaks down on her. What else is on the menu today?" 

He joins me at the table, handing me a cup of coffee prepared the way I like... with what he considers far too much cream. 

"I figured we'll start with the other shop owners. See if anyone noticed a change in Lagrange's behavior recently and if they've noticed the same in anyone else. Something that might help tip us off. Halloran texted me earlier. He and Vasquez will visit the funeral home."

"He's taking Vasquez along?"

I frown.

"Won't that make it hard to ask the right questions?" 

Dane lifts a shoulder and drains his coffee in a few gulps. 

"Nah. Not any harder than asking without really asking, if you know what I mean. Get a reputation pretty fast if you keep bringing up things like 'skin-changers' in every interrogation." 

I frown, still not entirely satisfied. 

"What's wrong?" Dane asks.

"Whiskers in your gravy?" 

“What?” 

He shakes his head and smiles.

"Nothing. Just something my Mom used to say when someone looked preoccupied." 

"Oh. It's just... I guess I thought you'd want a crack at the funeral home. It seems like the most promising lead." 

Dane shrugs.

"Might be but more than likely they were just following directions. Anyway, Wolf or not, I still gotta follow the rules and Halloran and Vasquez are the leads on this. I don't get a say." 

"Does that bother you?" 

He tilts his head to the side.

"You think it should?" 

I chew a bite of biscuit before answering.

"Sometimes it seems like you miss it, is all. Being a cop... badge and gun, power and authority. All that." 

He looks away.

"Sometimes I do." 

"Would you go back?"

 After a moment, he shakes his head.

"No. Being a cop had a meaning it doesn't have for me anymore. It's not where I belong. Now..."

He looks at me again.

"Now this is where I belong." 

I turn my attention back to my plate but I'm already full.

Dane reads my thoughts and pulls the remains of my breakfast towards himself. 

"Will you tell me?" I ask, the question rising like a bubble, unconscious and unstoppable, to my lips. 

Dane looks up from the biscuit and eggs.

"Tell you what?" 

"About being a cop and what it meant for you. And before that... about your time in the Marines. You must have..."

I wave a hand.

"Stories, right?" 

He huffs a laugh.

"Yeah, I got stories. I didn't think you were interested." 

"Why not?" I ask, a tiny bit hurt by the question. 

He lifts a shoulder in his characteristic shrug. 

"You never asked." 

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it." 

He smiles and reaches across the table, his fingers gently grasping mine where they protrude from my cast. 

"I guess I've been too busy with the present to care about the past but I'll talk about it all you want, if you want me to. What's brought this up now, though?" 

"The case, I guess," I admit and shiver.

"It just seems horrible... that something could replace someone you love and you wouldn't even know."

Dane frowns and I wonder if the same thought hadn't occurred to him yet. 

"I can't imagine it," he says.

"I feel like I'd know you no matter what." 

"Another reason to complete the land-bond, maybe," I say and smile. 

His amber eyes warm a little and it feels good to be fuel for that fire. 

"So," I say.

"How about we start with the person most likely to notice something amiss?" 

"I like the way you think, Hart," he says, lips curving in a smile.

"Let's talk to Vicky Lagrange." 

********

The Lagrange's live just outside Spring Lakes, in a neighborhood with a log-cabin, vacation-home feel, nestled beneath tall pines and among outcrops of basalt and granite boulders. 

It's home to a mix of year-round residents and seasonal visitors.

The Lagrange's are the former and their home is one of the larger but older, on their street, with steeply slanted roofs, tall, almost church-like windows and a large wrap-around porch. 

Vicky greets us at the door.

I recognize her from the funeral, though today she wears comfortable athletic clothes with her sleek black hair gathered in a messy ponytail.

Her makeup-free face bears little mark of her age, which I'd gathered was considerably less than that of her late husband. 

"Mrs. Lagrange. Thank you for seeing us."

Dane inclines his head in greeting but doesn't extend his hand. 

As is his habit, Dane removes his shoes at the door and I follow suit. 

Vicky lifts her brows but says nothing as she waits,and then leads us on into her living room. 

The first thing I notice is now nice it is.

An enormous fireplace built of smooth river stones stands free at the center of a generous space, a high ceiling with bare beams of light, natural wood gives it a lofty feel and the furnishings... though comfortable and well-used... are luxurious.

The second thing I notice is all the bicycle-related decor... a huge photo printed on canvas depicts a group of cyclists racing along a scenic coastal landscape, a brass bicycle sculpture occupies a side table and a single front wheel hangs like a strange, spiky wreath on the wall. 

Dane and I settle on a cream leather sofa while Vicky sits opposite on a matching settee. 

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, or tea?" she offers. 

"No, thank you. We won't take much of your time," Dane says, speaking for both of us. 

"I've already spoken to the police," she says, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

"But they wouldn't tell me what was going on. Just that there'd been some sort of mix-up at the morgue and that Jeff's body was..." she stops and sniffs again, reaching for a ceramic tissue dispenser and blowing her nose.

"I mean, how many times am I going to have to bury him?" 

"Hopefully just the once more, ma'am," Dane says.

There's something a little dry in his tone and I shoot him a questioning glance. 

"We're sorry for your loss," I say, leaning forward a little.

"And we're sorry for the distress this has caused. We're hoping to get to the bottom of it... put it to rest once and for all." 

She nods.

"I just want to understand. I mean, how do you lose a body? And now they're saying he was murdered? I don't even know who to sue." 

Dane's amber gaze flicks my way and wonder if Vicky is more upset by the loss of her husband or by the inconvenience of his death.