#AND EVEN WITH THE SELF-AWARENESS OF FANTASY THAT SHIT STILL AFFECTS HOW THE REST OF YOU OPERATES

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I think the only headcanon I like and remember consistently is Killer having attachment issues in the way

When any relationship gets too real, he does his best to push the other one away. Actively doing things he knows the other one won't like so they'll leave him, because he doesn't deserve any kind of good-ish relationships. He thinks they'd do better in life without him. Uhh I think it's just a case of self-hatred, if I know my emotions right(which I don't)

Yes i agree. Although I think the reasons behind this isn’t as straight forward as it seems. Very important to keep in mind that Killer has a dissociative disorder—this will affect his attachments. Such as in his Stages.

For Stage 2, i genuinely think he is not interested in emotional connections, or at least is convinced he is. He views them as a threat to his independence and emotional detachment, and views himself as not capable of having them.

He prefers to live his fantasies out in his mind where it’s safer and less risk—where he has control. The second anything comes too real, and he starts filling engulfed, he will detach himself and start actively self sabotage to make them leave. This is to protect himself, and only himself.

There isn’t exactly a sense of “I don’t deserve this/you,” exactly. The most I can see this mindset cropping up is in his relationship with Color. For everyone else it’s more like, “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.” (Which is rich, considering his entire codependency shit with Nightmare. Silly little un-self aware bastard he is.

Although with Nightmare he doesn’t really have to worry about giving a shit about Nightmares emotions genuinely unless they impact him—he just does what he’s told or what he has to, and in return he gets purpose and direction.)

This is his schizoid and antisocial tendencies. Which i headcanon killer to have traits of in Stage 2. I think Stage 2 would have a dismissive avoidant attachment style.

In Stage 1, it’s much like you said—feeling undeserving—but also feeling deeply afraid of being engulfed, controlled, rejected, or abandoned or hurt again—although he deeply craves emotional connection and validation and safety.

For me, personally, Stage 1 is either anxious preoccupied attachment style, or fearful avoidant.

I’m not quite certain about how it’d manifest in Stages 3 and 4—mostly because killer doesn’t really attach much in these states. These two have bigger things to worry about than getting attached—and possibly don’t even conceive things like relationships.

Which, yeah, these are dissociative adaptations meant to keep killer alive or avoid suffering in ways that may be outdated to his current situation. Based on certain interpretations, Stage 3 is more likely to be entirely focused on the immediate moment and himself—nothing and no one else. Stage 4 is entirely unlikely to be focused on itself at all.

This would likely change and develop when Killer manages to form genuine connections and escape the dangerous abusive environment he is in— such as with Color, and then perhaps eventually with the rest of the Epic Sanses and the Chromatic Crew. And of course, the Stages are all still the same person— so there will be ripple effects.

[falinscloaca]

😬😬😬😬😬😬

[cuddlesslut]

Part Seven: Regrets

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x rem reader, Hinata x fem reader

A/N: guess who’s fridge went out and won’t be able to get a new one till the 15th 🙋🏻‍♀️😩. Sorry this chapter is shorter than usual it’s kind of a filler But next chapter should be pretty long. I know a couple of people were wonder what happened with him so here we are with the return of a character. I might set up a poll for who should YN end up with so look out for that. I’m going to start writing my next story soon it’s going to be another angst!

Warning: Angst that’s about it. Maybe a lil lewd language.

Part Six: Promises

Part Eight: Hope

He laid in his empty bed staring up at his ceiling the only sound filtering through the room was the echo of the tv in the livingroom. He didn’t have the energy to go shut it off, plus he found comfort the noise it brought he found the silence unbearable. He sighed as he looked at the open space next to him. He never took much stock in how empty it felt without you next to him. The smell of your shampoo had long since vanished from the pillows. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine you were here next to him your head resting on his chest your hands interwoven talking about your plans for the day but while the memory played in his head clear as day his body had forgotten your warmth. It wasn’t too hard to picture , you had spent several morning just like that wrapped in each other’s embrace. He thinks to the mornings he’d walk out of his early showers to find you leaning against the kitchen counter drinking your morning coffee. He can still remember how you enjoyed your first cup of coffee to start your day. You liked your coffee sweet , but to were you could still taste the rich coffee flavor, always pairing it with an array of creamers. He remembers when you first started staying over at his place and he realized your affinity for flavored coffee he went out to the store and stocked up on as many flavors he could find in hopes you’d stay for more coffee before heading off to school. He loved that sight in the morning walking out and seeing you clad in just his shirt your hair a mess from last nights activities. But you weren’t here to have coffee in the morning, all of the creamers starting to expire, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Atsumu has spent the last seven month alone. There were a few nights he’d tried to pick up girls just to try and fill the gigantic hole left in his life by your absence but those all ended in disaster. One night he tried to have a careless hook up it didn’t get past the front door when he accidentally moaned your name when the random girl had cupped his manhood. She wasn’t very happy about that. He received a knee to the groin as she fleed the house. Another time he tried he was able to keep his mouth shut from making any mistakes after choosing a girl who was nothing like you but then he had another problem. He couldn’t get it up. You plagued his thoughts. You were the only woman his body wanted. It was quite embarrassing.

After Suna rocked his shit he finally started to snap out of his self pity. Why the hell was he crying? Because he was lonely? He can only imagine how lonely you felt every night he didn’t come home. He sighs running his hands down his face he really was a piece of shit he thinks. He didn’t treat you the way you deserved and he knows that. He knows he was selfish and inconsiderate. He knows he’s way to late but he regrets everything he did. Every single mistake eats away at him. None of it was worth it. Every flirt, every compliment that boosted his ego, the rush of excitement of being with someone else it was all worthless compared to being with you. He thinks back to everynight he stayed out late or he canceled dates, about the pain that hid behind your eyes. Now that his head wasn’t stuck up his ass he could finally see all of the misery he put you through. And he hated himself for it.

The setter wanted nothing more that to fix all of his mistakes, but he knew he was too late. Atsumu didn’t expect you to ever in a thousand years forgive him or even in a million years want him back, but he knows he can’t just do nothing. He’d spend the rest of his days trying to make amends. After Suna had pointed out how horrible he was for not looking for you he did everything to find you. He started by calling the University to see if you had been attending class but even with the title of fiancé , which he understood was false by not adding former to the title, they refused him any information to protect your privacy. He had long noticed the empty bank account but he wasn’t worried about that the money it was the least you deserved. Plus the fantasy of making you his wife and calling you YN Miya was nothing but a pipe dream now. So he’s sure the money would do you better. He tried to follow any money trail you left. He found the hotel that you must have run to that night. But even that was a bust leading to a dead end. He only knew one more course of action. He called your parents. They refused to answer his calls. Eventually he drove down to Hyogo by himself. The setter stood there on the front steps he’d stand on every morning when he’d walk you to school. It felt so familiar to knock on the cedar door, but everything felt so distant from his memories. Still he wasn’t quite sure what he expected, maybe for you to answer the door with a bright smile like you had all those years ago yet what he received was your mother standing there with a look of disgust present. He didn’t get a word in before she slammed the door in his face. He begged for her come back to please talk to him he just needed answers but he only received silence. He stayed there for close to an hour trying to get just a morsel of information. It was useless they refused to speak to him. That was his last idea he could come up with for finding you. Full of dread he made his way to his car ready to make the long drive home. The next day he received a phone call from his brother.

“Hey Samu what’s u-” the blonde started before his grey haired twin interrupted his greeting going straight to the point.

“She’s alive and fine,” Atsumus heart stuttered before he breathed a sigh of relief. He opened his mouth to ask his next question but Osamu cut him off yet again already knowing what his twin was going to ask.

“No we don’t know where she is. Kita-Senpai went to her parents and all they’d state was she was alive and out of harm, not that I’d tell you where she is if I knew,” Osamu’s tone was sharp. Atsumu knew he deserved that. His brother had made him well aware of his dissatisfaction in the blondes actions. He had to thank the his brother though, as upset he was with him he still looked out for him. Always checking up on him making sure he was eating and keeping up with his hygiene, throwing away all the liquor he could find because as disappointed he was with Atsumu he couldn’t let him tear himself apart.

“I know Samu, thank you for telling me.” He spoke softly before clicking the end call button.

He accepted that it was best he stayed out of your life. He wanted to make everything up to you and if staying out of your life was wanted then he’d respect your wishes. He spent the next months bettering himself. He cut all alcohol out of his life. Only going out when it was with his teammates although that was a rare occurrence they were also quite disappointed with how he had treated you, especially his wing spiker Sakusa. Omi-Omi had always had a soft spot for you. But still they didn’t let it affect their game play. He focused all of his energy on volleyball. He even started going to a few therapy sessions for his self distructive behaviors and impulses. He really wanted to do and be better if not for you then for himself. Although he still had trouble being home alone without you, never feeling quite whole. With out you this house would never truly be his home again. He was starting to get better and not drown in agony every morning he woke up alone although he knew he deserved it. One step that had made the process easier was boxing up the remainder of your belongings that you had left. For so long he had kept everything just as you left it hopeful for your return thinking maybe everything could go back to normal and life could be picked up where it was left off although this time he’d swear to never hurt you again. It was unrealistic to think that though. His therapist had told his several times it was a step he needed to take and while it took several months he was finally able to remove any trace from the house. That night he cried him self to sleep from the finality that came from not seeing a piece of you around as though you had never been there in the first place.

He regretted not cherishing you for the amazing woman you are. He’ll never forgive himself for losing the best thing to everything to happen to him. At Seven months since that night he was finally able to breath when he went home, not suffocating from regret every moment present in those walls. The Jackals were on a winning streak and even more exciting they had just got a new member. And after all these years he was able to hold up at least one promise he had made after breaking so many at least he could fulfill one promise by finally getting to set for Shoyo Hinata.

Home Masterlist

Taglist is Open

Taglist: @animeboihoe @karlitabi-rrito @mutli-fandom-fanfic @comically-sleep-deprived @madmelle @momoinot @eggbutnotyolk @yunhosblackgf @6sakusa @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @a-fucking-simp @its-babybitch @sakusasonlywife @japanushiiiii @dekuspet @sredamancy @haikyuusimp91 @shoyosbitchh @far-off-dream @tsukkisfatsimp @nestlevanilla @simply-not-the-same @porcolie @uwubby-1 @ahopefulbouquetcollection @graykageyama @elianetsantana @allykat7599 @airybnb @wonhomarshmallow @minnieminnie00-got7 @weebtato

Bolded accounts couldn’t be tagged

[kidney9-9]

Time Trap (Peter Parker)

Happy Halloween! I hope you’re all enjoying today! This is a witch!Peter Parker smut oneshot, and I wanted to add a note before you read it. The magic described in this is similar to movie magic, and a lot of the terms I use are just words that you’d hear in fantasy/magic movies or shows like the Harry Potter series, Hocus Pocus and etc. Peter Parker and Reader are of legal age in all my stories, please read the warnings before you read. This oneshot is set after Endgame, everyone is still alive and well. 

Masterlist is linked in my profile, as well as the google form to join my taglist. You can either fill out the form or send in an ask. Tags are in the reblog, and requests are opened. 

witch!Peter Parker x non-magic!Reader (Smut with plot) (Strangers-to-Lovers) Warnings: Descriptions of magic, fire, ashes, entities, curses, swearing, smut, sub!Peter, dom!Reader, oral recieving (male), magic blindfold, pet names/nicknames, floating sex, table sex, unprotected sex, teasing/edging and aftercare Word Count: 6.5k

You adjusted your jacket as you glanced into the mirror momentarily. There was a company party tonight in a new restaurant, and you were hoping to somehow get good news about whether you’d be promoted soon.

You had on a black dress to celebrate the night of Halloween, and you had some heels on as well, just a regular old pair you use for work. You really didn’t want to go; you’d rather want to stay at home and binge scary movies with a bucket of candy by your side.

You stepped out the door, locking it and tossing it into your purse before you glanced down to your phone, noticing the time. You were a bit early, but you wanted to make sure you were on time in case you hit traffic. The restaurant was farther away than you thought it would be. It was almost in the middle of nowhere, past a few warn down streets about thirty minutes away.

You got into the car, glancing into the mirror as you fixed your hair. You started the car, and buckled in, turning the music on to your favorite station. You nodded along to it, smiling slightly as you past by some of your favorite shops, realizing you needed to get some Chapstick soon. You didn’t have any time to stop though, and instead continued to drive, getting closer to the restaurant.

It was almost twenty minutes later when you get there, and you felt as though it was only a few seconds because of your music. You got out the car with a sigh, quickly grabbing onto the paperwork from the other seat, and pushed it into your bag.

You weren’t sure if you were going to be talking business tonight or not, but you needed to be prepared. There was a dull sound of music coming from the restaurant and you groaned, not wanting to deal with it.

Before you walked in, you glanced down the alley curiously, realizing you had a lot more time than you thought. When you saw a glowing yellow light appear down the alley, you furrowed your eyebrows, wanting to see what was there.

Now, if you had common sense, you wouldn’t go down an alley, but you shrugged off all the warning sirens going off in your head. The light had brightened considerably, causing you to squint your eyes together and pause, looking behind you. The alley was empty all around, just a few trashcans and some old junk on the floor.

You felt an odd sense of comfort as you walked closer, and when you realized the lights were cute fairy lights hung around a wall, you let out an amazed laugh. They were adorable butterflies, and you swore they were real. The string around them was glimmering as well, and you giggled when a butterfly spotted you.

You hesitantly put your hand near the butterflies, feeling shocked as one landed on your arm. That’s when you noticed the door behind all the butterflies, and you let out a gasp as one of the butterflies walked up your arm slowly.

It was magic, you just realized.

It’s been a while since you last saw magic around here. The city you lived in had grown away from its magical roots, instead opting for an advanced humanistic way of life. You were born without magic, but you always found it incredible. There were magic lessons at school, but you only got to take the history of magic since you couldn’t preform anything. None of your family was able to do magic. And you only had one friend who could, but it was a hard task to even cast a spell. Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen as much magic as you’d like here but you had a special feeling about behind the door, with the butterflies.

The wall was covered in greenery as well, potted plants were on the floor and as you knocked on the door, it opened slightly. You realized it was a shop as you glanced up, seeing the bell ring as you walked in. Plants were strung up on the ceiling, vines hanging down above you in various beautiful colors. You awed up at them, twirling around in a slow circle as you stared up at the luscious plants, furrowing your eyebrows as you saw some that you didn’t recognize.

Your attention went down to the bookshelves, to the side of the room when you noticed they also towered up to the ceiling. You gasped in wonder at the variety of books, seeing some with marks or languages you’ve never saw before. You walked towards it slowly, still taking in the shop, and reached out for one of the books. You slid one out, noticing the dust on it, and scrunching your nose up in disgust from it. You quickly blew the dust off, coughing when you breathed some in.

The label was something you couldn’t tell, it was in another language, almost resembling ancient runes. As you slowly opened the book, you flinched, glancing up when you heard a shout. “Hey!” He yelped out, and your eyes bulged back to the guy.

Fuck, he was… attractive. Way more attractive than most of the guys you’ve seen here. You felt yourself freeze as you stared back at him, suddenly self-aware that you probably shouldn’t have been here, even though it was a shop.

“…Hi.” You replied after a pause, before glancing down to the book as you felt it burn up in your hands. If you weren’t already shocked, you felt insane, dropping the book instantly as it flew into flames, almost catching your skin.

Regret and guilt pummeled into you, as you and the guy watched the book burn up onto the floor. The flames were bright blue, and only in a specific area and you gasped as ashes flew up back into your hands. Shit. If you learned anything in those history of magic classes, it was that anything that’s even close to that, it’s powerful.

What you just caused was a disaster.

“I- who the heck are you? What book did you just touch? How’d you get here?” Peter rambled out as he rushed across the store frantically. Your shoulders lifted slightly in shock as you gazed down into your hands, watching as the ashes swirled magically in circles over your palms.

“Me?” You paused, pushing out. “Nobody- yeah, no one I think, um.” You stopped again, shaking your head as he stood close to you, furrowing his eyebrows in anger as he realized what book you touched.

“Do you know what you did…?” Peter questioned, voice trailing off in fear as he wondered how in the world, he was going to fix such a thing. You shook your head back at him anxiously, feeling the ashes trail upwards, following your veins on your arms.

“Please help- what is this thing?” You whimpered out as it spread upwards, crossing your elbows. You couldn’t even more your arms anymore, the ashes paralyzed them as it moved towards your head slowly. He sighed, wiping his head as he thought of what he should do.

“How come you don’t know what this is? You just cursed yourself and- and the rest of the area!” Peter scolded you, stuttering as he kneeled, trying to find if there was any more ash on the floor. It seemed to have all drifted to you, floating around you and on you.

You felt your nose wrinkle back at the guy, “I don’t know what this is! What do you mean I cursed myself and the area? What do you mean by area?” Your voice raised as the ashes drifted up to your shoulders.

In an instant, Peter smacked both of your hands, getting you out of your paralyzed state, and causing the ash to fall back onto the ground. He shook his head as he sighed again, “You just released an entity that stops time. That entity is clinging onto you, but it can’t stop the time in here because of the protection spells I put up. But, outside, everything is paused because of you now.” His explanation made you tilt your head and feel dizzy.

You denied it instantly, “You’re just messing with me! It’s just- it’s a stupid gravitational trick you use, isn’t it? Aren’t those illegal now?” Your mind spun as you tried understanding what just happened as Peter rolled his eyes back to you.

“No, it’s not. And by area, I mean everything within the city limits. Protection ruins are surrounding in the city limits, there’s no way it could get past them.” He described, raising his eyebrows as he wondered how long he would be stuck here for. He couldn’t go outside, because the curse would affect him instantly.

“Why aren’t there ruins in here then? How did we not get affected?” You asked, taking a step back as the dizziness doubled. You leaned up against the bookshelf causing him to flinch and tug you back. His hands surprised you from the warmth as he pushed you against the wall to lean on instead. He walked back to the bookshelf, shuddering as he tried looking for something to solve this.

“Ruins within a city’s limits will cause disruptions. Protection spells aren’t very effective unfortunately. A curse will bump around to somewhere a place isn’t bounded with a protection spell that’s made for the curse.” Peter explained, closing his eyes in irritation.

“And because magic isn’t as… well known here anymore, protection spells for such a specific curse isn’t seen here- except for my shop because I was holding the curse.” He finished up. You let a noise of surprise, turning your head back around to the door.

“Can’t we just open the door then? To let the protection spell, go throughout the city?” You whispered, already knowing the answer. It wasn’t possible. Protection spells didn’t have such a wide area of protection, instead just in a room that it’s placed in, or on the person.

Silence poured between the two of you for moments after that. You didn’t know what to think of, but everything was spilling into your mind, ranging from boring moments in a morning, to just before you walked in here. You stopped though, once the guy spoke up again, “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

You nodded back to his introduction but couldn’t find yourself to smile, “I’m Y/n… I’m not a witch.” You shrugged back, causing him to let out an unamused chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t see you at the weekly secret witch club.” He responded, making your eyes widen, “There’s a secret witch club?!” You asked, dropping your jaw in shock but then you pouted, realizing he was joking. If there was a club, it wouldn’t be secret.

Peter let out a laugh back to you, trying to stay on the more positive side of this. It wouldn’t be good to be stuck in here with someone you didn’t like, and he had a feeling it would be awhile before either of you would be able to leave. If only he had a portal to Tony’s home, it would’ve been solved already.

He had no idea if he had the ingredients to even make such a powerful spell to break the curse and drag the entity back into a hold. It didn’t matter if it was a book, or a toy, it just had to be something that was strong enough to keep it in there. When you opened the book, it instantly broke the spell, which Doctor Strange had given him as a lesson.

“Be safe with it. I don’t want to hear you froze time. If you keep it closed until I come back, you’ve learned your lesson.” That were his exact words to Peter, which Peter didn’t exactly fail- but you were the one to open the book. The blame would still be put on Peter though, for not being out in the shop at all times, and for having such a book in a public bookshelf.

It was fair for him to think it was safe to put it there since not many people come here. And those who do, know exactly what that book can hold. It was odd that you found your way into the shop. You were the only one that wasn’t a witch that’s come through the door.

“Do you want some coffee? Or a sandwich?” Peter asked, pushing himself out of his thoughts as you cleared your throat. You bit your lip before opening your mouth to answer him.

“…How long are we going to be here for? A few hours?” Your questions made Peter’s eyebrows raise. He huffed out a short breath, as he walked closer to you.

“Weeks, at least.” His whisper made you shiver in terror at the sheer amount of time. How would people from outside the city limits even be in contact then? You gulped, realizing the protection ruins on every city was essentially a protection for those outside the city- and a trap for those in it.

“What the fuck!” You spilled out, jumping slightly. Peter nodded solemnly, before he walked towards the back of the store, where you first saw him. You nervously fiddled with your hands before you followed him, “So that sandwich you were talking about?” You called out, knowing you needed to get a handle of the place, and figure Peter out if you’d stay here for so long.

The guilt hit you as you chewed on the sandwich Peter magically made. That was one concern out of the way, that he could conjure food and water out of nowhere while the two of you were stuck in here. You didn’t even know how to trap the entity and start time again, but Peter explained it to you while you were eating. You kept thinking about if you didn’t decide to go down the alley, you would be hearing from your boss if you would be promoted soon.

The next few days were a blur, and you tried to avoid Peter like the plague, even though you really did enjoy his company. You felt too embarrassed that this mess was all caused by you, and you could remember how angry he was when that happened. You didn’t want to upset him even more. He let you use his bedroom in the meantime, as he started studying and trying to fix it. He even let you wear his clothes, which you were very thankful for. They were really comfortable on you.

You didn’t know where he slept but you hoped there was a comfortable spot for him. You were practically a ball of guilt and regret that you stole his room, basically invaded all his things. There wasn’t a room that you haven’t wandered into here, and his room was your favorite part of it all. It was beautiful, floating candles would drift around you as you laid in the bed, instantly relaxing you even more into a deep sleep. There was dull light from the sunset steeping in from the tall windows above you, but you noticed because of the glamour Peter casted before, all of this was disguised in the alley.

The main colors of his store and the room were red and gold, but greenery stuck out, and plants were almost everywhere in the back. It was interesting to see absolutely everything, and you realized how much fun it would be if you were a witch.

And Peter himself… you were amazed by his beauty every day you saw him. His hair was a dark golden brown and his curls- you found yourself wanting to reach out to run your fingers through them a lot. His smile was kind and adorable, but you didn’t see it often because you tried to avoid him most days. Sometimes you tried to prep yourself up, to apologize but it was so difficult. You had no idea what kind of life he lived other than the fact he was a witch, and you wanted to know more, but you didn’t want to push him.

Today you wanted to try out with small talk with him, or just some simple questions like “How are you?”, that would be easy to ask. You didn’t know if going even further would be the greatest idea, but you’d see after this conversation.

“Hey Peter.” You greeted nervously, leaning against the doorway into the dinning area. He hummed back momentarily, distracted by the book he was reading before jumping in his seat, realizing you were there. He grinned to you slightly, and you smiled back, trying to stay positive. His outfit today made you gulp, finding it more than just attractive.

“Uh, hi, how are you?” He questioned, biting the tip of the pencil he was holding onto. You pouted slightly, hearing the question you wanted to ask him first.

“I’m okay, but,” You paused, quickly rambling out, “I’m really sorry about what I did, it wasn’t right for me to do that, and I want to- you’re just a kind person and I’m sorry this happened. I shouldn’t have come in, and now,” You stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as you saw a rose dip down from one of the ceiling plants and opening up in front of your face.

“Woah…” You trailed off, not seeing how Peter stood up, smiling brightly at the scene. He chuckled as you reached out and touched the beautiful rose, watching it change colors at your touch.

“Do you like it?” Peter asked, enjoying your reaction. 

Your eyes momentarily went to his, nodding excitedly, “How is this even possible? I thought plant magic was hard to learn…” You spoke up, bringing the rose down to your nose to sniff it. You tried not to tug on the stem so much, in fear it would hurt the plant.

“I had a mentor back in high school actually. He taught me everything I know.” Peter responded, voice dipping down slightly as he was reminded of Tony. He tried calling or reaching out to him so many times within the past few days, but he got no response. He had a feeling that he was out on a mission, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Mentor?” You replied after a few seconds, gazing back to him. Your attention was fully on him now and he blushed, seeing a few more flowers had dropped closer to your figure, behind you. It had been awhile since he’s stayed with someone for this long, but he still wasn’t used to you being here. You were now just speaking to him, and he was excited.

“I- yeah, Tony Stark, maybe you’ve heard of him?” At the mention of Tony Stark, your jaw dropped. Tony Stark aka Iron Man? A witch? He was one of the people that supported the growth of humanity without the use of magic. You were surprised at the thought.

Peter chuckled at your reaction, “Yeah, he taught me everything when I lived in Queens.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Queens, quickly connecting the pieces together of Spiderman sightings. It was quite a shock to you and so many others when Spiderman stopped crime fighting in Queens, and started here instead, and now you knew who he was…

Hold the phone – you were speaking to Spiderman right now, who’s a witch.

“Peter! You’re Spiderman? Wait that makes no sense, why did you even come here?” You rambled out, stepping closer to him curiously. He nodded back to you, shrugging internally about the fact you found out. Sure, it was supposed to be a secret, but he barely worked as Spiderman now anyways. He had trouble after the last war from almost losing everyone and took a seat back on the whole Spiderman act. Instead, he focused more on witchcraft, and eventually opened shop here.  

“Yeah, uh, you know just wanted to catch a break,” He tried to shrug it off, but you let out a surprised laugh, smiling widely.

“That’s insane! Are there any other things I should know about?” You asked, quickly forgetting your shyness and worry about pushing his boundaries. Peter was happy to see you opening more to him through this conversation.

You stepped closer when you noticed a flower had landed behind his ear, and you giggled at it. Peter’s eyes widened momentarily, feeling your hand reach forward and gentle brush past his ear, and blushed harshly. You didn’t notice, instead you brought the flower up to him, watching as the bud opened together.

“It’s so beautiful…” You murmured, trailing off and away from your excitement from before. Peter smiled as he gazed at you, “Yes, very.” You glanced back up to him, face softening as he smiled even more.

“There is actually something you should know. If all goes well, the spell should break within the next two weeks. I need to prepare the things for it.” He spoke up, instantly leaning away from you as he felt his face heat up even more.

You were so very beautiful, and he reacted like that just by one conversation with you. He couldn’t believe it, and he hoped you didn’t notice his embarrassment.

You nodded back to him, glancing back up with a smile. “Does this happen often? On a less dramatic scale?” The question made him laugh out of surprise, shaking his head.

“I think this is one of the most dramatic things that have happened… do you walk in alleys often?” Peter joked back to you, making you groan and shake your head. You were thankful you could talk to him right now.

“Mm, only if there’s pretty boys there,” You instantly replied, before clasping over your mouth. Shit, you really didn’t mean to say that. You groaned, closing your eyes and sat in the chair as Peter gazed back to you with a shocked expression.

“You think I’m pretty?” He whispered after a moment, turning a light pink as he turned away from you, trying to get the color out of his face. He walked back to the other chair, across from you, glancing away as you peeked back at him slowly.

“Are- are you blushing right now?” You giggled back, trying to recover from your slip up. Peter’s eyes widened as he denied it, sliding the book back towards him, “No! That’s just the lighting, you know.” His shirt was causing the blush to look even brighter than it was as well, making you smile more.

You giggled even more as he pushed the book into his face, finding it cute that the both of you were embarrassed. “Do you always blush when people call you pretty?” You mumbled after a moment of silence. Peter dropped the book as he gazed back at you, turning even a darker color.

He grinned back at you, playing along with your game. “Only when a pretty girl tells me.” He used your words against you. You laughed out of surprise, shaking your head and leaned your face into your hand after you propped your arm against the table.

You were much closer to him than before, as you leaned in, and his eyes widened slightly. “You think I’m pretty?” You used his words this time, murmuring them as you gazed back, letting your face soften from the laughter. Peter let a smile beam through, as he pulled his chair closer to the table.

“Of course, I do, you’re perfect.” He responded. You both knew what he said was a lie, he barely knew you, but you decided to fuck it anyway. You leaned in, closing the distance as your lips barely touched his.

He could feel only the fainted outline of your lips on his, causing a shiver to go through him. “May I kiss you?” You whispered slowly, glancing up to his eyes before gazing down to his lips again, close to fluttering your eyes shut. Peter didn’t bother responding, instead, opting to kiss you instead. His lips moved against yours in an instant, memorizing every feeling he got from your lips.

Your eyes shut as you moved your lips against his in a slow and passionate way, bringing your hand around his head to pull him closer. His tongue slipped out, licking across your bottom lip in a slow movement causing you to open your mouth. His tongue met yours as the kiss got sloppier, and your fingers curled into his hair, tugging and playing with it as the kiss deepened even more.

Peter’s hands frantically pushed away the book on the table, between the two of you as he pulled away from you. He breathed heavily, standing up as you gazed at him with lustful eyes. You stood up after him, as he walked around the table, tugging you close again. 

His kisses were rougher this time, and one arm moved under your shirt on your backside. You gasped at his hand, and pushed yourself closer into him, finding your position back into hair, and behind his neck. You slid up onto your tiptoes in amazement from his kissing, as he sloppily found his way down your neck.

His tongue swirled around your sweet spot on your neck, sucking it loudly and causing you to clench your eyes shut even more. You shifted your legs together as you felt a warm sensation spark down to your core. 

You took a risk and grinded against Peter, pushing him back against the table. Peter gasped against your neck, as you pushed him to sit on the table, sliding in between his legs and tugging his head up to kiss you again.

You grinned into the kiss when you heard him whimper as you hutted your hips against his. It was only after a few minutes of kissing you felt his boner poke against your core as you grinded again. You let out a sigh into the kiss, pulling away to breathe and you let out a slow chuckle at Peter’s puffy lips and dazed look on his face.

“You good there, babe?” You whispered, wanting to make sure he was still okay with this. You wanted consent before you did anything else, it was something important to you. 

Peter’s face was pinkish as he gazed back up to you, “Yeah, I- woah, yeah.” He mumbled back, dragging you back in for another kiss.

You giggled into the kiss, moving a hand down to his crotch, and smoothing your hand over it. You hummed as he gasped against your lips, eagerly kissing you even more now. You unzipped his pants after struggling with it for a few seconds, and pushed your hand underneath his boxers, instantly feeling the warmth of his skin. 

You let out a slight moan as you felt the size of his cock in his pants, and you gently pulled it out. His cock hit against his shirt, causing the both of you to break the kiss, to get his clothes off.

You and Peter laughed quietly in excitement as he tugged his shirt off and you slid his pants down, taking off his shoes as well. You made sure to slide your hands all over his skin, drifting your fingers close to his inner thighs, and smiling as you heard his breath hitch at your movement. You smiled, sliding your hands back up, but passing his aching cock to tease him a bit.

“Please…” Peter trailed off, choking a moan out. 

You grinned back to him, kissing up his neck as you whispered, “Please what? You got to tell me what you want like a good boy.” He nodded back to you, enchanted by your words as if you were the witch here instead of him.

He ate up every action of yours, answering your question, “I want you… to touch me, please.” He whispered, feeling slightly shy. You smiled to him, moving back to kiss his lips again and sighing in pleasure.

You wrapped a hand around his head, picking up loads of his precum and sliding a finger up and around teasingly. You then pushed your hand down, after you collected lots of precum to cover his thick cock. You pulled away from the sloppy and slow kiss and bent down slowly, “Is this okay, good boy? Do you want me to kiss you here?” You questioned, using a soft voice.

Peter’s head tilted back as he nodded and groaned out, “Yes please!” You grinned at his reaction, seeing the sweat trail down his abs. You used another hand to drift a few fingers into his skin, pushing in random shapes before you gave his cock a kitten lick.

“Oh, you’re doing so good and you’re so responsive, baby. I love it, I want to hear more. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” You responded, moaning against his cock as you give him a long stripe from his base and back up to his head, before swirling your tongue again. You kissed the vein slightly, before you trailed back to the tip with your tongue again.

“I want you to do that- I want you to swa- swallow me please.” Peter cried out, stuttering in lustful desire just as you widened your mouth and pushed down. You went as slow as possible, moaning for exaggeration. Peter shuddered as he felt your moan vibrate through his cock, sending him days of pleasure.

“Please- fuck- you’re so amazing- oh my.” Peter rumbled out just as your eyes started to water from his cock hitting back against your throat. You moaned again, noticing his reaction and started to pump the rest of his cock that you couldn’t reach with your hands, drawing the spit out of your mouth.

As you gazed up to Peter, you could see shimmers drifting around him in gold and pink, and purple, you couldn’t tell how many colors there were, but it was wonderful. It painted against his expression, bubbling up even more as you etched him closer to his orgasm.

Just as he was about to burst through, you pulled your mouth and hands away, leaving him high and stranded. “I- shit, I was so close,” Peter cried out, gazing back at you. A laugh bubbled out of you and you shook your head, “I never said you could cum, baby.” You responded.

Peter shivered in excitement back as he felt pleasure course through his body even more with your words. He’s never experienced anything like this before, but this was the most he’s ever enjoyed himself during sex. It was incredible.

“Please come here,” He asked, softening his expression as he saw you sit up. Spit was all over your face, but he didn’t care as he pulled you in for another kiss. This one was more of a desperate kiss, passion seeking for more, he needed it. You couldn’t help but moan as his hands slipped under your shirt again, trying to find a way to take it off. He ripped it instead, and you gasped, giggling slightly.

He pulled back, “I want to make love to you, please I need you.” He paused, searching in your eyes. “Please, I’ll be your good boy.” He finished, and you gasped at his words. You unclipped the back of your bra, wiggling it off, tossing it onto the floor.

“Babe?” You asked gently, grinning as he gazed at you intently. “How do you feel about wearing a blindfold?” The question made his ears burn a dark red and he nodded as he let out a small whimper.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot. Uh- wait, here.” He responded, glancing back across the room, and raising his hand up as if to summon something. You glanced over to the area he was pointing, and your eyes widened in surprise as you saw a ribbon drift in the air, your way. The ribbon was from one of the clustered tables in the corner of the room and you gasped as you felt the fabric, noticing how soft it was.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt anything softer and as you smiled back to Peter, he let out a chuckle. You leaned over him, tying the ribbon softly but securely over his eyes. You giggled as you held up three fingers in front of his face, “Mm, be a good boy and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” You whispered, tickling close to his ear.

He shivered again, randomly guessing, “Eight? I don’t know, I can’t see.” He explained, and instantly he felt your hands placed on his torso. You pushed him all the way back on the table, kissing his shoulder a few times before you pulled back and took the pants off your body, including the socks and shoes.

“I- oh my.” Peter stuttered, as he felt your bare legs climb up near his body. You smiled, before leaning down and licking at his neck again. “I wish I could see you, but I already like this idea a lot.” He admitted, as goosebumps raised on his body as he felt you push one leg over one side of his body.

He truly couldn’t see anything, so once you kissed his ear, he gasped. It was one of his most sensitive spots, instantly shivering and groaning as you nibbled down. “Ba-babe?” He let out, moaning as a hand went down to his inner thighs again.

“Yes, baby?” You answered, kissing his cheek a few times, passing his lips this time. “Is it, um how do you feel about floating?” He stuttered, almost unable to talk.

You let out a confused noise back to him, but instead of talking this time, he just went for it, feeling his body float up in the air, bringing yours as well. You gasped in wonder, eyes drifting all around you and back down to Peter. Your pussy throbbed even more in desire, making you ground down against his torso, and making Peter groan out loud, “Oh fuck!”

Your movements turned both you and him on even more as you pushed yourself off him completely, as you continued to float in the air. Your hands went back to his aching cock, twirling your finger around his tip.

“Am I making you feel good, baby?” You whispered making Peter to moan loudly. He tried reaching out for you but couldn’t find you, instead you giggled as you let go of him again, causing him to curse.

Just as he was about to say something, your lips captured his, swirling your tongue out as he cried against them, needing more. You smiled, “Are you ready?” You asked him slowly, pulling away from his lips, he could vaguely taste himself on you.

He nodded, reaching up for the blindfold and ripping it off before chuckling, “I couldn’t take that anymore, I need to see and feel you.” He explained. You nodded back to him, wrapping your legs around him before sliding down to his cock.

You aligned yourself with his cock, breath hitching as he slowly slid into you, stretching you out. Oh fuck, it was incredible, you moaned loudly as he bottomed out in you. “Peter- woah,” You sighed out, getting used to the stretch. Peter nodded along with you, not finding the words that can describe the wonders of this feeling.

“I can be in you all day, you’re incredible.” Peter rambled, sliding his hands behind your back, and pulling you closer to him again. You giggled as the two of you floated even higher in the air, as you lifted yourself up after you adjusted yourself.

You slammed down on his cock, choking out a moan as one of his hands went down to your clit, furiously rubbing and building you up even more. “You’re such a good boy.” You cried out, grinding down on his cock, and pushing yourself down to kiss his lips again.

Both of you shuddered and whimpered at the feeling as you started to go at a pace, with one of Peter’s hands guiding you as you pressed sloppy kisses into his lips. His fingers edged at your clit, circling over and over, rubbing fast as you gasped repeatedly, surprised and almost reaching your orgasm.

“I’m going to come soon,” Peter cried out, as your lips went down to his shoulder again, biting down. You spoke up, breathing out, “Yeah, same here.”

It was after a few more thrusts down on his cock when you felt your orgasm pour over you, and you instantly closed your eyes, opening your mouth in shock and pleasure. Your gasps and clenches around his cock made Peter turn over the edge as well, and he cried out, feeling your orgasm continue as his started.

His movements on your clit never stopped and he eagerly grabbed onto one of your breasts, pinching your nipple and causing even more pleasure to pore out of you as you came.

A few minutes later, you and Peter laid on each other, still floating up in the air. You felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in a while, and you were happy that you came here, even with the mess you caused. Peter felt the same, he wouldn’t take back any of your actions because just being in this moment with you was beautiful.

As you both floated down, whispering sweet messages to each other as the dazes of the orgasms slowed down. You reached off Peter’s softened cock, carefully to make sure he didn’t get hurt as you stepped off the table. You leaned back over to him, wiping his hair out of his face before kissing his cheek.

You walked slowly to the bathroom, making sure to pee quickly and wash your hands. You picked up a few towels, one that was dry and one that was wet with warm water, and walked slowly back to Peter, holding back a groan as the achiness hurt your hips.

Peter’s eyes were lulled closed but once you came back, he shifted, gazing up at you. “That was… really astonishing.” He mumbled in a daze back to you, as you started to wipe his chest, cleaning off the sweat. You slowly cleaned around his softened cock, trying to avoid contact, knowing it could be sore for him.

“Astonishing?” You giggled back, teasing him for his word choice. It was cute though, making you lean down and kiss his lips softly. You leaned back as you started to pat the areas dry, cleaning him off sweetly and trying to take care of him.

His face softened even more as a glow surrounded the two of you, “Yeah, it was astonishing.” He whispered back, and you turned to gaze at him as he slowly sat up. He pulled you in for a deep and slow kiss, and you pulled back, resting your head against his.

“Maybe we could do that again? We’ve got all the time in the world.” You giggled, causing him to let out a laugh. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek again.

[mooglesorts]

man. it's weird, because there's a lot of things about me that are Very Badger Primary, to the point where i would probably pick it with a strong bird model over anything else at this point... except that i hate dehumanization. i saw primaries described recently as 'things you wouldn't be you anymore if you went against,' and more than just about anything else that's it. even when i think people are monsters, i can't see them as not human; i'd be hard put to define exactly what i consider a 'monster,' but it's more about like. good faith than personhood, i suppose?

it's not necessarily a permanent status to be one--people can change--but my deeply held instinct is that once you have done something monstrous you will always be a person who has been a monster by your own choices, and that it's your duty to learn how to accept that while still living your life, and act accordingly from thereon out. you have to reconcile that you are a person with the fact that some doors are closed to you now, and it's up to you to decide what you do from there.

just. like. even when i hate someone and as far as i'm concerned they can go fuck themself, even in the multiple Heavily Badger social environments i've been in over the course of my life--church, progressive circles, the way the structure of the internet kind of just affects you in general--even on occasions where i've gotten swept away and given in to the pressure to dehumanize (or perform it) for a minute, there's always, always been a voice in the back of my head saying this is a person. this is a person. this is a person. this isn't right.

unintentional dehumanization sets off my '...should we really be doing this? we are getting into not good territory here, it's time to pull up and start questioning' alarms. explicit, intentional, purposeful dehumanization sets off the whole ass tornado sirens. if people on my side are doing it it's enough to throw me into a system-destabilizing crisis, because NO NO NO I WANT TO GET OFF THIS RIDE, I WANT NO PART OF THESE PEOPLE'S MORAL SYSTEM, I FEEL UNCLEAN. it's a good way to make sure i will never, ever, ever trust someone again.

things that are Really Really Badger, off the top of my head (after the cut because Long and trauma talk):

[[MORE]]

---

-i've always loved playing adoptable games, pet simulators, etc? any game with randomly generated characters that are Yours Now and a Community, in a deeply badgery way. including games where they can die (the satisfying part is making sure they don't). except that, no matter how much fun the gameplay is, if it gets to the point where they start feeling disposable, and the only way to really keep playing is to stop humanizing them, i lose interest. it's super fucking depressing. it feels like part of me dying inside a little. i don't like it at all.

-i've always been drawn to fandoms and roleplaying communities. i was fiercely loyal to, and proud of, my first rp community on dragoncave as a 13-year-old. when my abusive mom found out about it and completely isolated me for half a year, the promise of being able to make it back to them--just sneakier this time--kept me going; when i finally got back and the group had drifted apart in my absence, it.... was absolutely devastating. i never really recovered from it. even then, i spent years trying to get the group back together every now and then, until i finally gave up.

-i am always keenly, painfully aware of the life cycle of a community. every time i hear the sentiment 'you guys are all great and i love this group' my stomach drops, because i know it's only a matter of time before things go sour or the group dissolves. rp groups, skype chats/discord servers, fandoms, you name it, i am always bracing myself or staying away entirely to avoid the inevitable and it hurts. and it hurts to see people taking part in a community i don't dare be part of, which makes lurking in fandoms... really rough. frankly, it takes me a lot of courage every time i express my appreciation for the shc community because i've been burned so many times.

-on that note: i went through some really traumatic stuff at the end of 2020 that completely turned my life upside down, and i was doing bad until i stumbled across the shc community. the moment i started engaging, it was a huge boost to my mental health, and my ability to cope with circumstances under which i was about to break down spectacularly. and it has been ever since! contributing to The Group Project and seeing other folks being friendly with each other gives me the happy feelings.

-i used to go out of my way to build and run spaces, mainly fandom and rp spaces, and took a lot of pride in engineering them so that they Functioned Well. unfortunately it wore me the hell down over the years for Burnt Badger Reasons, and now i'm too jaded, bitter, and exhausted to give a shit about being a mod/community leader anymore because of it lmao

-among those burnt badger things i relate HARD to the Red Ledger narrative. hoo boy.

-i wish i could find it again, but there was an mlp comic i saw once which went into luna's observations of what each element of harmony Means. with the element of friendship, she says that twilight has a massive amount of love to give; right now it's all focused on celestia, but when she learns to expand it outward she'll have grown into her full potential as a person, and she'll change the world. that struck a chord with how i used to feel, hard, and it's really stuck with me ever since. (hello, unhealthy snake model)

-emphasis on 'used to feel,' lmao

-got super invested in a really toxic '''mental health''' community at a low point in my life; exploded HARD trying to help everyone i could; got into vicious, protracted fights with the shitty mods for years about the harmful way they ran their community until i finally managed to go 'fuck this it's not getting better' and leave.

-had to numb myself emotionally to the people around me for a long time once i really started learning about mental health and trauma stuff, because now i was seeing signs of their pain and baggage everywhere i looked, and i couldn't handle not being able to help.

-the imagery with which i think about my bird primary is overwhelmingly negative. whether it's my actual primary or a model, i uh. i feel like a healthy relationship to one's primary doesn't involve associating it with gore.

-i saw a conversation recently about how birds think of morality in terms of 'if you can, you should,' and how that's scary for badgers because their definition of 'can' involves destroying yourself for the sake of that 'should,' and... yeah, that's a mood. that's a BIG mood. thinking about bird primary stuff is hard--and i had to pick up my lion model to deal with it--because it's so easy for me to spiral into a self-shredding spiral of other people are counting on you to do the right thing, how dare you pull back for your own health and sanity. how dare you turn your back for even a minute. how dare you rest. the work is never done.

which is... a very exploded badger approach to exploded bird morality. whoops.

-fix-it and time travel fiction in which Everything Went Right This Time and It's Going to Be Okay are one of my very favorite self-indulgent fantasies. i will enjoy putting characters through the wringer in all kinds of creatively horrific ways which may or may not end on a downer note, certainly, i love that shit, but i will also 90% of the time have a backup version of the arc or dynamic that's softer and lighter and Actually Healthy This Time. it's the dichotomy there that really gets me tbh, a story where Everything Ends Happily by default will mmmaybe pull me in? but stories where there's the constant shadow of this could end horribly, it's supposed to end horribly, and we got a happy fucking ending anyway are just... that shit will make me cry, man.

it's also why i kind of really hate stable time loop stories where it initially looks like this is going to be The Good Timeline this time around, but OOPSIE everything went to shit anyway! we're right back where we started, just like it was meant to be all along! it's a tired cliche by this point and an unsatisfying one for me, and it makes me roll my eyes every time.

-this is relevant to the bird vs. badger because like... my gut instinct is to prioritize people over systems. when shit hits the fan, when someone's fallen into the machinery and is about to get hurt, i don't feel right about it if i just let it happen. i'll break the machinery if i have to to keep it away from them; i won't feel great about that, and it might cause problems, but fuck it, we'll figure it out later. throwing people into the gears of a system when i'm convinced it's the only option makes me feel Awful.

-related to the above, another trope that really speaks to me in fiction is when a character defies the rules of reality through sheer force of will. no, this is not happening, i don't give a shit what the limits are supposed to be. i refuse to let this be the way things are. (there's that lion model.)

-i've just kind of... always wanted to be an Everyone Badger. it makes me sad how much of that i've lost over the years as i've gotten more cynical, but it's what i wish i could be.

---

doubtless i'll think of more the moment i hit send, and there are just as many things about me that are Super Bird Primary, but like... mamma mia that's some spicy badger. the main thing stopping me is the Can't and Refuse to Dehumanize bit. i also... hm. i think i can function okay without a community? they just help a lot, and it sucks when i'm confronted with one i don't have a (stable) place in. any thoughts? is it possible for a bird system's foundation to run so deep that eventually it overrides the bird?

[aliaslua]

Ok about those "living with bodyguard turtles" hc, how would the boys react if the human they're protecting (now their best friend, mind you) had feelings for them? Like the human doesnt tell them but it's kind of obvious, theyre pretty bad at hiding it?

omg this is my first request

I received this ask at the exact moment that I submitted my last assignment, so I'd just officially started my college break ... The perfect way to start my rest *chef's kiss*. Thank you so much for the suggestion! <3 I was craving some angst. I hope you enjoy! it’s also kinda long LOL I was trully excited

you can read the first part here

Leonardo

It happened one day while he was helping you in training. The whole family was already used to your presence, you and Leo trained together every day and he loved it. He thought it was really cool to keep up with your performance and he was so proud of your increasing dedication and persistence, even on the days when the training was hard.

On that specific day he had decided to give you a break, since the training the day before had been heavy. Everything seemed absolutely normal until the moment when he needed to help you with a yoga posture and although you barely started the exercises, he realized that your heart was beating fast, very fast. Strange, he thought, but when he looked at your face and realized that you blushed, he also became overly aware of his own hands on your waist and how close your faces were. Suddenly, you broke contact with his eyes and walked away abruptly. "I'm not feeling well" you said "Maybe tomorrow."

Leonardo stood in the training room with a huge question mark in his face. Were you… nervous? During training? Why? You had been training together for months and it wasn't the first time that you needed support for a posture and…

The next few days are like a nightmare. Suddenly you decide that you prefer to train alone. Then you make up an absurd excuse for not watching the movie on wednesday. You don't talk to him, you don't train together, it's almost like you disappeared from his life. It's too much. One day during breakfast he asks you a direct question, but you simply decline the invitation while still avoiding looking at him. A horrible silence is in the air when you leave the kitchen without even finishing your breakfast.

"What did I do?" Leo asks, clearly hurt. His brothers look at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" Donnie asks. "What?" That's all the oldest brother can answer. "She's into you, moron." Raph responds, clearly irritated.

The realization runs through him like an electric current. Is that why you are avoiding him? What it means "you are into him"? Like… Are you in love? You? No way. You were his pupil! The first student he had, more like a life partner, a housemate. He never thought that someone like you could ... Him? It's too much for him. He needed to sit down.

"It looks like your intuition isn't that good huh, your stallion!" Mikey jokes.

The next are sleepless nights. Suddenly everything makes sense. How you smiled when he brushed your hair off your face, how you asked him to stay by your side when you couldn't sleep, how you insisted that the training should be longer, he always had interpreted all that as a sign of friendship, but now he felt completely naive. And to think that you could feel like that for someone like him ... It changed everything. What did that mean? He missed you. Missed you a lot. Seeing you so distant made him suffer in a way that only seemed logical now that he realized that perhaps his own feelings were the same. His head is spinning. Perhaps…. Maybe you could...

No. Absolutely not. The mission was clear. He had a single duty, to protect you. And he was going to complete the mission even if you spent the rest of your time together without looking at him again, no matter how much it hurt. Nothing was going to stop him from keeping you safe, not even his own feelings.

Raphael

It happened that morning while he was working out. You had just read “Emma” and it was the last book by Jane Austen that was missing for you to complete the bibliography. You sighed at the romantic ending but he hit the punching bag with an overly aggressive stance.

"We have to stop reading that shit." He said, suddenly. "Why?" You asked, surprised "I thought you liked it." "I like it. It's just ... it's kind of depressing for me." "What do you mean?" He stopped punching. Still with his back to you, you could see him adjusting his hand-bands. "Ah, come on, Shorty ... You know that none of this will ever happen to me." He threw a punch that made you jump "It hurts ... to know what it could be." "What do you mean, it's never gonna happen to you?" You asked honestly. He could hear in your voice that you were incredulous. "Cut the crap, Y / N." He turned, annoyed. "Look at me!" "I AM looking." you said, standing up "All I see is a caring, kind, gentle man and the day you fall in love with someone I know that you will be the most loving and dedicated partner and that person will be the luckiest in the world." You closed your mouth as if you had just said cursed words. Across the room, Raphael was stiff and speechless. Suddenly, the Lair' alarm went off. He went to join the brothers in silence, an emergency demanded his attention.

That night, Raph didn't come back home. He spent the night sitting on the edge of a building looking out over the city, mesmerized by your words.

It may be hard to believe, but Raphael is always very aware of his own emotions. That's why he is always so angry, that's why he cannot contain the urge to fight. He feels everything deeply. You didn't have to say anything else. It was as clear as day for him. He knew that was an unplanned declaration of love, he knew you were trying to hide it and you couldn't, and he knew it was too late now. He also knew he felt the same way. And he knew you could never be what his heart desired.

In his deepest fantasies, Raph would return home, lift you up around the waist and swear eternal love, just like in the books. And he would be yours, from then on and forever and you would never be alone, afraid or sad again. He would spend the rest of his life doing everything to make you the happiest person in the world.

But he also knew that it would never be possible with a man like him. He, who couldn't give you a decent home, the wedding you deserved, couldn't give you a family... - Fuck - He couldn't even meet your family. You would be forever unhappy, stuck with a monstrous and impetuous man and for that reason, he needed to work out the kindest way to reject your affection, knowing that it would be the most difficult thing he would have to do in life.

Donatello

Donnie wasn't prone to false modesty. He knew without a doubt that he had a deductive ability beyond average and he knew that he had enough knowledge to always reach the most likely conclusions. Why, then, could he not get it out of his head that you felt something for him that wasn't limited to a mere friendship?

He was working in the lab and couldn't stop thinking about all the obvious signs. Once again he redid the list of symptoms in his head: You had stopped reading alone in your private room they had built for you and now whenever you could, read by his side while he worked on the computer. Okay, nothing suspicious, a friendly, normal, expected gesture. But then there was that day when he stopped typing for a second and when he looked at you, you were staring at him. Clearly! He even saw it when you turned your face back to your book, in a pathetic attempt to pretend you weren't completely absorbed in watching him. That was strange. Okay, okay. Just one more event, it didn't indicate anything. So there was that night when everyone was watching a horror movie and you hugged his arm after a jumpscare, you guys stared at each other for a few seconds and he thought he saw you... blushing? Not to mention that now during your weekly debate sessions you seemed very giggly, very self-conscious, maybe even shy ... You had started to avoid direct eye contact with him and he realized with disbelief when your body language indicated attraction. Yes, yes ... He had ignored it the first few times but the way you smiled, the way you tilted your neck, how you approached him... Was he going crazy ???

Two hypotheses floated in his mind. The firs: he was going crazy, hallucinating and that was why he was seeing things and all the obvious signs that you were… interested in him were just the crazy dream of an unbalanced man. Or ... Well, or you really had developed a real and palpable romantic desire and you were so caught up in that urge that you couldn't hide it.

He narrowed his eyes again. No, no. Certainly not. You? No way. It didn't make sense from an instinctive and evolutionary point of view (why would you have that urge? You weren't even of the same species) and from a subjective, spiritual point of view, well ... Why would you like someone like him? You were beautiful, intelligent, clearly had an exceptional capacity for conversation and aside from that brief moment in your life, when you would finally have your freedom back, surely you would have no difficulty in finding a partner being such a wonderful, kind person, loving and…

He was no longer paying any attention to the viral sample he had placed under the microscope. He felt his own heart sink. If you really liked him then ... So does that mean ... That he had a chance? That he no longer needed to hide his intentions, his desires? That he could finally confess and that you would say ...

Someone knocked on the door. It was you. Sleepy and in pajamas, you still looked wonderful. "Donnie, can I sleep here?" "Of course, dear."

You smiled slightly, your eyes still half closed with sleep. He saw you lying on the couch, you fell asleep right away. He continued to look at you, so peaceful and impassive... He came to the only possible conclusion: It could never happen. You deserve affection, security, stability. A peaceful life with someone who cared for you, not someone who constantly put you at risk ... Someone who wasn't like him. Donatello looked away from your face, thinking it might lessen the pain. He knew that, in that case, the most rational option was to pretend that he had never deducted anything.

Michelangelo

"So... What are you going to do?" Leonardo asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had been established between the brothers. On the other side of the lair, you were sleeping.

"I do not know!" Mikey almost screamed before he remembered that you couldn't wake up, no way "That's why I'm asking!"

“Well… she clearly likes you. We all agree." Donnie concluded. "Yes" Leonardo shook his head. "Yeah ..." Raphael was staring at the brothers. "... And if you break her heart we'll all beat you up."

They all laughed, except Mikey. That was precisely the problem.

"It's not funny ..." The youngest of the brothers said, sitting on the kitchen table chair. Everyone understood that this was a serious situation when Michelangelo rested his head in his hands and again plunged into meditative silence.

He would never forget the day you sat with him on the couch and asked him to ...Chill a little. Never. Not because he was hurt, no ... You had been kind and caring and he had been very happy to know that you felt comfortable opening up to him that way. And if there was one thing he didn't want to be, it was overwhelming. So he did what you asked, he stopped flirting, stopped talking nonstop, stopped with intrusive questions ... And everything seemed perfect!

You were the best friend he could have. You laughed at his jokes, went out with him to tag abandoned cars, you ate pizza on the roof, played pranks on your brothers. Everything was great! You were everything to him and he knew that he felt much more than brotherly love for you. He always knew. But he had made a promise, he had promised that he would no longer crush you with his feelings ...

But things started to escalate. You started sharing intimate secrets, sharing dreams. During movie nights you laid on his shoulder and every day you cooked something new and brought it to him while he was playing video games. One day - that damn day - Raphael teased you and said “My my, what a beautiful couple” and Michelangelo almost had a heart attack when instead of emphatically replying that you weren't a couple or anything like that you just… Smiled and looked away. WHAT? WHAT KIND OF REACTION IS THAT? Mikey still remembered the unbearable heat he felt on his face that day when you just SMILED when you heard someone suggest you were his.

Since then, he only thought about one thing: "How can I reject her?"

The sadness in everyone's eyes was clear.

"Maybe you guys deserve a chance, Mikey." Leo suggested.

"But how?? Tell me, Leonardo, for God's sake, how am I going to make that woman happy? Huh! I have NOTHING to give. Nothing to add, to offer! I… I am literally a sewer monster… It will be a matter of time before she regrets, and how would I move on afterwards? ... "

"Mikey… ” Raphael started to speak, but was interrupted by his brother:

“You know what… You are right. It's time to grow up. This is a stupid dream. And it will never come true… ”

A gentle reminder that English is not my first language so if you see any grotesque grammatical errors, please let me know! <3 Thank you for reading

[sagemoderocklee]

Reiteration ❤️ A (but not GaaLee :p) P T

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

oof. okay so aside from GaaLee:

1) ShikaTema 2) NejiTen 3) Kakagai

i think these are the only like three ships i could say i feel strongly enough about that i’d classify them as OTPs. GaaLee honestly gets its own category anyways. im not really active in any other fandoms, and the only other ship I’ve ever felt as strongly about as i have gaalee was really Harry/Draco and well... ya know. Although if i were still super active in CLAMP fandom KuroFai and DouWata would 100000% be up there. And of course the forever and unbeatable Sakura/Shaoran but specifically CCS SakuShao because I think TRC isn’t quite as good with their romance

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

oh. that’s. okay we’re answering hard questions tonight i see.

something niche for you and me: new member of your MLM/communist/leftist reading group is Very Cute but very new to MLM/etc and needs extra help to understand the complicated history, theories, etc.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything).

oh god. this is really opening a can of worms lmao and also.... i may have to put this under a cut because god i have so fucking many and some of them may need elaboration.

1. Gaara doesn’t ever take up sleeping/napping post Shukaku

this is something that I know a lot of ppl don’t like/want because everyone wants Gaara to be happy and like big same! but i do think that Gaara’s physiology is entirely altered from Shukaku and the lack of sleep. I feel like having it ingrained in him that he couldn’t sleep, knowing the devastation it would cause, plus all the trauma he has--he’d be plagued by nightmares first of all, and no shinobi is gonna wanna take a sleep aid or something to help them sleep more easily because that would just be a huge opening for someone to attack you. but the other thing is i think it would genuinely make him feel sick. like i know that when i get too little sleep i feel sick because my body needs a certain amount. BUT i also know that those days where im too depressed and don’t get out of bed and sleep too much i ALSO feel like shit. Gaara has lived his entire life without sleep--barring specific instances of forced sleep to release Shukaku--and his body has to have adapted to that. fifteen years of not sleeping there’s no way his body would know what to do with that. his body is so used to subsisting (and this is my own like explanation for how Gaara survived pre and post Shukaku) off of massive quantities of food and by funneling his own chakra into his brain to act as rest, healing, etc.  like i think at this point it’s so unconscious that he isn’t even aware he’s doing it anymore--like breathing. His chakra--which is already another physiological system in their bodies--is just taking up the job of the rest portion of his brain.

that all being said, i do still think this will have an overall affect on his lifespan, but not necessarily his physical or mental health in the immediate sense.

2. Kankuro is straight.

this goes for like all the characters i see as straight, and like i hate like putting this in the like “die defending” category, but there’s this sort of.... sense that when you’re LGBT in fandom you’re gonna see every character as gay and you’re sus/someone’s gonna side eye you if you don’t. like i get the whole ‘well obviously everything is straight and cis IRL, and im sick of it’ reasoning behind “everyone is gay/trans” but the thing is.... I wanna see cis and straight people who support their gay/trans friends and family. I don’t need to live in a world where no one is straight and cis. I need to live in a world where people who are straight and cis actually support and love LGBT people. i personally don’t get anything out of the fantasy of no straight cis people because what does that solve? and what does that say about the homophobia and transphobia within the series? It doesn’t solve or say anything. And quite frankly a series like Naruto is inherently homophobic and transphobic (especially trans misogynistic), and i think brushing that aside with an “everyone’s gay/trans” is more insulting than helpful because it’s not addressing the issue. I’m more invested in seeing the characters who aren’t LGBT supporting and loving and working to make the world better for their LGBT friends, family, and community.

like i know not everyone is writing/reading fanfiction or art or what have you in fandom for like realism or whatever, i get the whole escapism of it all, but i approach it this way because for me I just don’t get anything out of pretending that the -isms and -phobias within the series don’t exist.

also straight trans people exist?????

i could go on about this--like some characters are just... not good and i don’t wanna claim that as LGBT because of that--but like i think this is the biggest thing for me at the end of the day: seeing ppl who aren’t LGBT supporting LGBT ppl.

3. Gaara is a polyglot. Also, he’s self-taught in just about everything. He spent most of his youth in the Suna library for obvious reasons, so reading, writing, language, poetry, history, politics, arts, etc he learned there on his own.

4. Shikamaru and Temari live in Suna 6 months out of the year, and Konoha the other 6. Temari does NOT give up her job to be a nagging wife, and Shikamaru is 100% a wife man.

5. Lee is not originally from Konoha or Fire. He doesn’t remember his parents or how he wound up at a Konoha orphanage because trauma. Also his first language isn’t Japanese.

I have more specific HCs about who Lee’s parents are, where he came from, and what happened to his parents, but that’s like spoilers for a fic.

6. Tenten is not an outright orphan. She actually comes from a clan of weapons masters and smiths.

I think it’s fairly common for ppl to assume Tenten is an orphan because we obviously never see her family--granted we just don’t see much of her to begin with--but I personally fell in love with the idea of her having a clan with the focus being weapons. Her parents are still dead, but she lives with her grandmother, who’s renowned for her weapons.

7. Lee has a HUGE amount of chakra. Like obnoxiously huge stores of it that he just doesn’t know how to manipulate--not quite Kisame levels, but definitely a LOT. He gets as far as walking on water and walls, but he absolutely has to be focused to accomplish those feats and prefers just going really fast so he doesn’t fall in/off.

8. Sage mode!Rock Lee.

I have talked about this before(x, x), but you can absolutely pry this from my cold dead hands--actually, you couldn’t. I’d still hold on to this even in death.

9. Lee has like a photographic memory which is why he always writes things down that people tell him.

10. Gaara will be the last Kazekage--whoever comes after him (and i do have a HC for that) will be Kazekage only in the sense that they’re like the figurehead maybe, but ultimately Gaara is working to completely change the shinobi way of life and the Kage system will be dismantled starting with Suna/Gaara.

11. In a modern AU context, Lee is a HUGE fan of Queen and Bruce Lee.

12. Lee definitely grows his hair out later on in life and changes up his attire and becomes his own person.

13. The Kazekage Estate is a generation home--most households in Suna are, and in fact, it’s really fucking weird for someone not to live in a generational home--so Gaara lives there with his siblings. When Temari gets married, she and Shikamaru live there, and continue to do so when they have kids. If Kankuro has a kid (and a spouse), they’ll live there too. Lee eventually moves in. The house is always filled with love. When Gai visits with Kakashi, or when Tenten and Neji visit, they stay there too.

[palmtreepalmtree]

Alright, this one is long overdue for an anonymous friend who really wanted me to review The Healer.  So after a short pause, here is another edition of

The Worst Movie on Netflix Right Now™

Heavy sigh.

Alright.  Let’s talk about this one.  

First off, I have to do some pretty serious content warnings, cause I know some people have been receiving some bad news recently and this review goes someplace you might not expect so, I love you guys, but please be aware that this review deals with: cancer, terminal illness, kids with cancer.  

Now back to the bullshit.

This is basically a movie about a fucking dumbass dude who has trouble making obvious decisions.  

SPOILERS AHEAD (are you new here?)

The main character Alec Bailey, begins the film as a total fuckwit.  He lives in England (somewhere about) and owns a failing electronic handyman business that he calls “The Healer” (in the most pathetic stretch of narrative bullshit, but okay) and is in deep gambling debts to the Russian mob. 

As our story begins, Alec discovers that he has a long lost rich uncle who makes him an offer: the uncle will pay off Alec’s debts if he agrees to live in Nova Scotia for a year.  The uncle will make all the arrangements: plane ticket, work visa, place to live, etc.  All Alec has to do is stay in Nova Scotia for a year.

OH NO!  WHATEVER SHALL I DO?!?  WHAT AM I GOING TO DO IN REMOTE NOVA SCOTIA FOR A YEAR AFTER ALL MY FINANCIAL CONCERNS ARE TAKEN CARE OF?  

HOWEVER WILL I SURVIVE IN SUCH A HORRIBLE PLACE?11?!?

I BETTER THINK IT OVER.

*eyeroll*

He finally makes his decision after getting chased by mobsters trying to collect on his debts.  ...like I said.  He’s a fuckwit.

So he moves into this beautiful house in Nova Scotia.  There’s no internet, which is a legit bummer, but his uncle has arranged a car for him to get to town.  Seems like a pretty good gig.  Even if it is going to be brutally cold come the winter months.  

Well as soon as Alec arrives in town, everyone seems to know and be expecting him.  He puts an ad out for his mechanical engineering services, again, under the name “The Healer.”  Well........... that goes awry in ways you would expect.  Suddenly, people start showing up requesting his physical healing services.

The thing is, the people from town seem to expect him to actually be a healer.  They keep referring to a secret and to him being “the chosen one.”  There’s no explanation for this.

Then there’s like... this whole weird interlude where Alec seems to kill the town priest, played by Jorge Ramirez (can someone please find this dude a good acting gig? my dude has decent comedic timing, he’s better than this shit). And Alec gets arrested.  Even though the priest got up and walked away.  All of this seems like a weird spinning of wheels before the actual plot.  Like why is this happening.  Why?  

Eventualllllllly......... his uncle shows back up and fesses up (in the most elaborate way possible).  People in his family have a gift.  Every other generation, someone is chosen.  And they have the gift of healing.  Based solely on being near to someone who is destined to be saved.

The gift can only be activated around their 30th birthday (if this sounds unnecessarily elaborate, that’s because it is -- and I’m even cutting shit out like the secret basement and portraits on the wall, blahblahblah).  The day after the birthday, the chosen one must decide.  They can choose to accept or decline the gift of healing.  Alec is given until midnight that night to make his decision.  WILL HE BE THE CHOSEN ONE?  WILL HE BE THE HEALER?!?!1?1

I mentioned that Alec is a fuckwit right?  

*Hagrid voice* YOU’RE A FUCKWIT, ALEC!

*squints*

Annnnnnyhow.  Alec goes to the town church where everyone is gathered at midnight (with thank you signs and a big round of applause) and he dashes their hopes.  HE WILL NOT BE THE HEALER, NO!  Even though it comes with no readily apparent downsides or costs.  And he’d be able to relieve the suffering of others with no cost to himself.  No, fuck it.  He’s going to go home.

The town takes it pretty well, all things considered.  The few people who had already been healed by being near him make speeches of gratitude.  They all wish him a happy birthday and tell him he’s welcome to stay.  Like these people are insanely understanding about him declining the gift of healing.  INSANE.

It’s worth noting that we’re about halfway through the movie at this point and we haven’t met one of the main characters of the movie.  

IN COMES ABIGAIL.  Cancer kid extraordinaire.  She is 14 years old.  Her parents have driven 7 hours to see Alec.  Their daughter is dying of terminal cancer, and all they want is for Alec to spend some time with her and give it a shot.  But she’s a pretty self-possessed kid.  She convinces the reluctant Alec to just hangout with her for the weekend to buck up her parents and give her parents some hope.  She doesn’t believe in the healing, so no harm, no foul.

And finally we’ve hit the meat of our story.  Will Alec be able to save Abigail now that he’s declined the gift?  Will he regret it?  WHY DID HE DECLINE THE GIFT!?1?

SPOILERS (really can’t discuss this movie without them)

It turns out, Alec had a brother who died of cancer.  And they were incredibly close.  In Alec’s words, “he was my everything.”  But now he deeply regrets giving up the gift.  Now he’s worried he can’t save Abigail.

You know what, man?  Same.

SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TURN DOWN THE GIFT!??!?

Listen.  Listen, listen.  I don’t know a single person who has been touched by cancer who wouldn’t jump at the chance to have a healing gift.  I mean, what the fuck.  Death sucks.  Losing someone you love from any kind of illness sucks.  Especially when it feels even remotely too soon.  And cancer is a particular type of FUCKING BULLSHIT.  It sucks.  

So it’s really fucking hard to understand why this FUCKWIT turns down the gift to begin with.  Death and suffering is not abstract for him when this movie starts!  So why we should feel sorry for his resulting anxiety, now that he has met someone who is directly negatively affected by his fucking BAD DECISION.

Anyhow, the rest of the movie is basically an exercise in how charming Abigail is and how much fun we can have with her before she goes off to die. Which like......... OH-FUCKING-KAY!

It should go without saying that this movie has a happy ending.  The music swells where it should.  The romance is consummated.  Abigail is healed.  All is going to be well with the world.

As a movie, this one has some weird fucking choices.  First, all of the music cues in this movie are just wrong.  “Faith” by George Michael is not a song about believing in something --- unless that something is having sex with someone who hurt you before.  And the lighting in this film is so beautiful all the time, it looks like you’re in a fucking ciallis commercial, even when you’re in the freaking police station, wtf?  

And last, the writing is just weird in places.  Like why have the love interest lie about being a lesbian through 90% of the film?  Why?  It’s not a good joke!  And  It is COMPLETELY fucking baffling to me why the good news of this story is delivered off-screen instead of on-screen.  If Abigail is going to be okay, why couldn’t she come back to Nova Scotia to tell him?  Why couldn’t she deliver that news in person!?  That’s just bad writing.  What the fuck is that?

But whatever.  

On the credit side, I think Oliver Jackson Cohen knows what he’s doing as an actor.  He’s not Oscar-worthy yet, but I believed him.  When he talks about his brother, I felt that.  And that could not have been easy in such a fucking weird script.

But as much as I’d like to end this review right here, there’s more.  Cause...

..........that’s not where the movie ends.  Not entirely.

As the end music plays, the movie is dedicated to Paul Newman who established summer camps for seriously ill kids.  And then we see images and videos of the kids all over the world enjoying activities at these camps.  

And that’s where this critique stops.  Sorta.  Paul Newman was a legitimately good person.  And his legacy of caring for sick kids carries on to this day, as was evident from all the footage.

But here’s the thing: healing as it’s depicted in this movie does not exist.  But easing the suffering of others does.  I wish this movie had been about that.  I wish it had been less focused on miracles and weird family legacies and selfish fuckwits and more about the kind of healing that Paul practiced.  But I guess that movie isn’t as fun, and it isn’t as hopeful and uplifting.

In the non-movie version of this story, Abigail Bryant died in 2014 at the age of 20.  Her obituary still appears online.  And it is still receiving comments and photos from cancer survivors and fighters, many of them who found her through the film.  And they talk about how the movie touched them.

On that level, it doesn’t matter what I say here.  It doesn’t matter that there are weird parts of this script or that healing like this is a fantasy.  This movie does its job.  It touches people.  And if it inspires just a few more people to give money to help relieve suffering, then that’s all that matters.

Ronald McDonald House Charities Cancer Research Institute Hole in the Wall Gang (Paul Newman’s org) Serious Fun Children’s Network (established by Paul Newman)

[bouncydragon]

LORD: Legion of Random Dinos

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Bonus (Part 1) | Bonus (Part 2)

And here is the second part of the bonus!

The writing style kinda changes? I’m not sure. Oh well...

I had a lot of fun writing this. I didn’t include everything that I put in the tags of the original chat (well a reblog of it after it was finished), mostly because I forgot some of it... But it’s okay. 

Well, I hope you like this. 

(And I’m happy if I never have to use Tumblr on my laptop again...)

************

Bonus: Endgame, But With Dinos! (Part 2)

"I am inevitable," Thanos said and once again snapped his fingers. 

But nothing happened. 

Of course not. 

Thanos looked at the Infinity Gauntlet confused, and then over to Tony kneeling on the ground, bloody and bruised and with the infinity stones glowing on his hand. Everybody stared, holding their breath. It was like time stood still. 

"And I… am… Iron Man," Tony said, sounding exhausted but determined. 

It would all end here. Tony would reverse the snap and things would go back to how they used to be. And Thanos would be gone. This was the end. 

Before he could do the snap though, Loki appeared next to him and took his hand. Tony looked at him surprised and then watched as one after another took each other's hands, forming a chain. Tony smiled softly. 

"You are not alone, love," Loki told him, smiling and gently squeezed his hand. Tony's smile grew. "Also, I told you no self-sacrificing shit," Loki added then. 

It caused Peter, who was holding his hand, to chuckle. Tony raised an eyebrow and then chuckled too. 

Loki turned his face to Thanos, who stood there looking stunned. "Didn't expect that, huh, you big ugly grape?" he mocked him, causing some of the people to snicker. 

"We – are – Avengers!" he added after a pause, sounding just as exhausted but determined as Tony. And proud. He was part of the team he had once fought. He was accepted and appreciated. He had redeemed himself. He was, if he liked it or not, a hero. 

Tony grinned at him and then snapped his fingers. The power of the stones ran through all of them. It was like a tingling but it hurt. None of them would go unharmed but they'd live. They'd all live to see another day. 

Thanos disintegrated with a shocked expression still plastered on his face. Silence fell over the battlefield and for several long moments nobody said or did anything. 

"It's… It's over?" Tony asked breathlessly then and held on tightly to Loki's hand. 

"Yes, it is," Loki confirmed and let go of Peter's hand to wrap his arms around Tony and kiss him. "We won," he whispered as he rested their foreheads together. 

Everyone was silent. All were letting it sink in that they had won. Against all odds, they had prevailed and won. 

Steve held Bucky close to him. He too had suffered from the loss of his partner. But he had gotten him back and he would never let him go again. He understood the emotions Tony and Loki went through very well, and as much as they annoyed him at times, he was happy for both of them. And he was glad that they both were still here, alive and kicking. 

Thor smiled seeing his brother show such raw emotion and affection. Loki didn't do that often. The games he and Tony played while with the others were just that, games. Meant to annoy their friends. But Thor knew that in private they weren't like that. Well, at least not the majority of the time. Probably. He couldn't truly know but he just had the feeling that he was right. 

He was happy for his brother. The Norns knew that Loki deserved happiness and love, and he had finally found it. Tony and Loki were meant for each other. They were perfect together. They brought out the best in each other and completed each other. More importantly, they understood each other, even without words. 

Thor envied Loki a bit for what he had. 

Loki couldn't bear losing Tony. Just like Tony couldn't bear losing Loki. They were two halves of a whole. One felt lost without the other. So incomplete. But they hadn't lost each other. They were still here. They were alive. They still had each other and all their dreams. The future was bright and full of love. And mischief. 

The moment was rudely interrupted when Captain Marvel—Carol Danvers—did a hero-landing next to them. Loki couldn't resist shooting here a glare. They were having a moment! A very important one at that! 

Carol looked at them and crossed her arms. "You know you could've just let me do the snap." 

Loki rolled his eyes. "This has more meaning. It's legendary." 

"Fair enough," Carol acknowledged. 

Loki opened his mouth to say something else, possibly about how she had ruined their moment, but then he spotted something red behind Carol and beamed. 

"Goose! Buddy!" he exclaimed and the Flerken came running to him. Loki let go of Tony and picked the cat-look-alike up to cuddle him. 

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes. He loved Loki more than anything but it really annoyed him that he had to share him with his pets. More often than not, Loki would forget Tony to spend time with his fluffy companions. Yes, that's right. They had gotten two cats. So Tony had to share his boyfriend with a dragon, a lizard and two cats. They were named Machiavelli and Shakespeare, by the way, because why not? And occasionally, Tony also had to share him with Goose. Of course. 

Okay, to be fair, Tony wasn't annoyed for long. Usually just a few brief moments. Because whenever Loki interacted with his pets or Goose, he was fucking adorable. So silly and giddy. And childish, frankly. But Tony loved seeing him like that. It meant he was comfortable. 

So, to be honest, Tony didn't really mind that he had to share his boyfriend. He knew that, no matter what, if he needed him, Loki would be right by his side. Just like he had been today. 

"How?" Steve suddenly asked, pulling Tony from his thoughts. Steve stared at Loki cuddling Goose with an expression of plain confusion. "Fury lost an eye!" 

Carol shrugged and smiled. "Goose loves Loki." 

"No surprise there," Tony said, smiling affectionately at his boyfriend cuddling the Flerken (however had he managed to gain the creature's trust?). Really, it was no surprise. Loki was exceptional with all kinds of animals and creatures. The story about the horse wasn't true though; Tony had asked. 

Tony put his arms around Loki's waist and rested his head on his shoulder. "Can we go home now?" he asked quietly. "I'm tired." 

Loki smiled softly at him but then grinned and abruptly stood up. "But we need to celebrate!" He turned to his brother. "THOR! ASGARDIAN FEAST!" he yelled. 

Thor's expression was one of utter delight and yes, even giddiness. Whatever Loki meant by what he had said, it made Thor cheer. "OH YES!" 

Tony had no idea what Loki meant by 'Asgardian Feast' but he had the feeling that it probably involved a lot of alcohol. 

***

So, Asgardian Feast was meant literally. 

Thor and Loki had turned the common floor of Avengers Tower into a feast hall. No one had been allowed on the common floor for hours until the princes had finished preparing everything. 

Tony had never seen Asgard before it had been destroyed but he knew a lot from Loki, who seemed to be sad that Tony would never be able to visit Asgard. Which was probably why the common floor now resembled exactly how Loki had described the feast hall in Asgard's palace. All gold and plants Tony had never seen before decorating the ceiling and walls. Instead of electric light, there were actual candelabra and chandeliers. The flickering light of the candles gave it all a very warm, homely (and medieval) atmosphere.

A large round table was in the middle of the room, decked with various foods, more than anyone could ever eat. Not even all of them would be able to finish this! There were also kegs of what Tony assumed was mead and wine and some "normal" alcohol. 

In the middle of the round table a fireplace was set up. It reminded Tony a bit about those French Asterix comics. From what he knew, feasts on Asgard had been held at a long table, not a round one. Loki said he preferred this because it made everyone equal, no one was at the head of the table, no one was better or more important than someone else. Very "King Arthur". He still had a point. 

Anyway, Thor and Loki looked very proud and pleased with their work. Loki had assured Tony that he'd have his undivided attention tonight. No dragons or lizards or cats, or Flerkens. Just Tony. 

Everyone gathered at the table and it was Loki who opened the feast by holding a short victory speech. 

They celebrated for hours. They ate and drank and laughed. All the tension was gone. All the fear. The threat was gone and they could live in peace. They could love and be happy and enjoy the next sunrise. And the next. And the next. 

It was well after midnight, the celebration still going and not showing any signs of ending any time soon, when Loki took Tony up to the roof. They looked up to the stars for a long time, Tony safely in Loki's arms. And then Loki retrieved something out of one of his pocket dimensions. Tony knew exactly what it was and there was no hesitation. So he took the golden apple from Loki and ate it. He could feel its effect immediately. He felt more alive, full of energy, younger and like he could climb a mountain with his bare hands. 

He smiled up at Loki. This was all he had ever hoped for and more. A life with Loki, millennia of them being together. He could see it. It wasn't just a dream, a fantasy, anymore. It was true now. 

They returned to the feast some time later and from the look Thor gave him, Tony knew that the Thunderer was aware of what had transpired on the roof. He got more proof of that when Thor hugged both him and Loki. Usually it would've made Tony's bones crack alarmingly but not this time. Tony grinned. 

The celebration carried on for days. There was never really a break. Well, this victory deserved a grant celebration. They had eliminated great evil and had saved the universe. They knew that the peace wouldn't last for them but they didn't worry. They were still here and as long as there was breath in their lungs, they would fight for Earth, for their home, for the ones they loved and held dear. 

Because that's what they did. What they'll always do. 

Because they were Avengers. 

But for now, they could celebrate their victory, spend time with their loved ones and enjoy the peace while it lasted. They could finally take a breath of relief and rest. 

***

Two years later, Tony asked Loki to marry him. They had a double-wedding with Steve and Bucky at Avengers Tower. It was spectacular and the happiest day of their lives. 

Tony and Loki decided to move away from New York. They moved to Norway but not New Asgard. Instead they had a large estate somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It was surrounded by dense forests and only a small walk downhill was a lake. It was perfect. Quiet and private. 

They still had Gwaine and Scaley the lizard and their two cats and their family was about to grow because Loki was pregnant (yes, he could get pregnant). Forget earlier, this was Tony's happiest day, the birth of his son. They named him Merlin, because why not? 

Occasionally, Carol visited and left Goose with them. Tony could see it happening that one day the Flerken wouldn't want to come with Carol anymore when she picked him up. But he also was convinced that Carol wouldn't mind because she knew Goose was in good hands. 

Steve had officially retired from the Avengers. He and Bucky had bought a house outside of New York and had adopted a baby girl which they had named Hope. They had also gotten a dog and had named him Rex. 

The rest of the Avengers were still active, with some new additions in the form of Peter Parker and some Inhumans. 

LORD resided on an inhabited island somewhere in the Caribbean which Loki kept hidden with a spell. Tony thought it would become a new Bermuda Triangle but Loki assured that that wouldn't happen. Only time would tell. 

Some dinosaurs still lived at Avengers Tower and helped when needed. Clint was their new commander and he loved it. He missed the old days though, the glory days of DTSWDT and the Mischief Squad. But he also understood why Tony and Loki had moved away, or Steve and Bucky. He was happy for them. They deserved it. He had his family back and was happy as well. His kids loved to play with the dinosaurs. His wife hadn't been okay with it in the beginning but now she didn't mind anymore. Two velociraptors stayed at Clint's farm and served as guard dogs. Well, guard dinos. 

Natasha came to Norway as much as possible because she was Merlin's godmother. Also, she and Bruce were dating, but technically nobody knew about that. 

Stephen had kept the dinosaur he had made friends with during the battle and had named him Stark. Apparently, the dinosaur was smart, mischievous and very stubborn. And also had taken a liking to coffee. 

Thor divided his time between New Asgard and New York. Being a leader was hard work but he had Loki as an advisor. And he actually also listened to what his little brother had to say. It was thanks to Loki that the remaining Asgardians had finally settled in their new home. 

They might have scattered but the Avengers were still there when needed. This team was an ideal that lived on. Even if some have moved on, others remained to continue the work. Because the world would always need heroes. 

The important thing though is, that they all were happy. 

All was well.

THE END

[adamdriverwrites]

Carpe Noctem || Part 2

Plot summary: Mob boss’s daughter & bodyguard au ft. Kylo Ren. Based off this plot bunny (x)

Warnings: swearing, mention of death, mention of drugs and addiction.

Word count: 4580

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Reader

A/N: Here is part 2! Lemme know what you guys think! I’m also thinking about making a character page with everyone on it and maybe some pictures of what i kind of expected the house and car to look like and stuff?

Taglist: @helloimindelaware, @dandydragonz, @musicalcoffeebean, @hazydespair, @driverficarchive. Let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist here

Most nights lately, sleep had been restless if it was to be had at all. The last week was spent thinking mostly about Mallory, but regardless you found yourself waking up from a full nights rest. The last thing you had expected being back home. The California king bed was massive, with soft feather down comforters and pillows creating the fantasy you were sleeping on a cloud. The split second before your conscious thought's took the wheel, you woke up feeling almost… content. A visceral and unfamiliar feeling, and then you remembered the chain of events that had led up until this point, and reality crashed to the forefront of your mind.

A heavy sigh escaping your lips, you pulled yourself together and exit the bed. Getting ready for Mallory's funeral was easier than you thought. Most of your clothes were black, and you had only brought one dress with you appropriate enough for a funeral. You didn’t feel like wearing it, you only brought it along with you because it was instinct when Mallory was around. Forcing you into dresses and heels. The concept of wearing one hurt too much today. So you decided to wear something a little more casual. Dark high-waisted jeans, a black silk shirt and you topped it off with your leather jacket. After applying some simple makeup, you mustered the courage to leave your room.

Last night was spent outlining some questions, accumulating thought's and reasoning pertaining to Mallory’s untimely demise. You weren't sure if you were still in shock, denial, or on the track to slowly coming to terms with her death. Either way, you knew only one thing would make you feel better.

So you left your bedroom and headed towards your Father’s office.  Nearing midday already, there was far less voices reverberating down the hallway as you approached the recreation room. This you were happy about, unable to deal with unfamiliar eyes casting you over today.

You entered the silent room, though still smokey, you walked further in before realizing you were not alone.

“Well, well, well…” a voice made you still in your tracks. Hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up. Not out of fear, but nervousness. That was a voice you hadn't heard in a while. “What do we have here?”

Your head turned slowly, seeing two familiar faces. Ares and Roman, two of your older brothers. They were sat in a pair of black leather chairs, smoking in a half dark room in what appeared complete silence. Your nerves simmered, realizing that Lyon was nowhere to be seen. It would appear you were safe for now.

A smile covered your lips and you shifted around the pool table to stand in front of them. Ares was already standing, walking forwards to wrap you up in a hug, squeezing you tightly. Your eyes glanced to Roman standing behind him, regarding you with a smile before pushing your brother away and giving you a hug himself. Your nerves lessened at their apparent happiness to see you. Though, it had always been Lyon with which you had the problem.

“Hey, sis,” Roman pulled away to regard you. Both his and Ares’ eyes looking deep into your face, a minuscule sadness and wanting behind their eyes. If you had a dollar for every time someone had done that you would have been able to pay for your own College education.

“Shit. I mean, I know you always looked like Mom but damn-” Ares sighed, and then continued on, “whatever, its just- its good to have you back.”

“I just wish it was under better circumstances.” Roman popped in, and pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Seeing one in the hand of your brothers, there was little resistance in accepting his silent offer. Eager to share your nicotine habit with someone.

“How’s school going?” Ares asked.

“Its going well. One more year and I’ll have my master’s.” You were studying psychology, a subject you were eager to learn after living with such a fucked up family. It was the only thing that tethered your sanity to this reality.

“How’s the kids? And how’s Bella?” You asked Ares. You had seen them once or twice, when they were babies, still latched on to Bella, his wife. Mallory had shown you a photo whenever she could get the chance. Happy and proud of her niece and nephew.

“The twins are good. They’re at school now, growing up so fast. Micah, weirdly, looks a lot like Mallory. Mellie though, she looks so much like Bella. So at least she’ll have an easy run of it.”

You bit back a smile, and inhaled the cigarette your brother had lit for you.

Ares was your oldest brother, 11 years older than you were, since your birth he had always been mature enough to have a good relationship with. Despite what happened, he didn't resent you for anything that happened with your Mother. He never blamed you or your existence for ruining the family. No, that was mostly Lyon's modus operandi.

The only thing Ares seemed to care about was being a good Dad, and trying to be a decent husband. He was intelligent and self aware enough to not make the same mistakes as your Father.

Roman was similar. Interested only in running the one legitimate business your Father had; a club on the outskirts of your family’s territory. He wasn't obsessed with the life of crime, or powers of intimidation. He was softer, than all of you. And had kept his private life to himself, just like you had a knack for doing.

Even though you hardly ever talked over the last few years, you still enjoyed their presence. You understood that they had their own lives, and growing up you had wondered why you hardly spent any time together. It wasn’t until you were an adult you realized they were just busy living their own lives. Ten years older than you were, by the time you were shipped off to boarding school at 13 they had already started their trial into adulthood. And under your Father’s pressing thumb you could understand why you would fall under the radar. You were just a kid, and by the time the three of them and Mallory had grown up and formed relationships, you were practically just born. It was easy to understand why you had spent most of your childhood alone.

Ares opened his mouth to speak once more, when it was interrupted by quiet shouting and raised voices from your Dad’s office. Knowing it had some sort of soundproofing you only had a second to contemplate the possible loudness of what was happening inside before the doors burst open. Andrew stepped out, hand on the shoulder of your other brother; Lyon. They shared a look, obviously discussing something heated, your Father’s gaze conveying word’s he didn’t speak, until they turned to glance at the rest of you.

Lyon's apathetic face turned into something of a small snarl at seeing you standing with Ares and Roman. You felt like you had gone back 10 years in time. Back to the old days when your relationship with each other held nothing but contempt. Once again, treating you like you weren't allowed to be part of the family. You hadn't dealt with this shit since you were 16, and were moderately hoping he was over it by now. Though the look on his face suggested otherwise.

“Well, look who’s come crawling back.” He could barely get the words out of his mouth before your Father’s hand on his shoulder tightened. A small gesture that quietened him immediately.

“Lyon." You spoke the only welcome you were ready to give. Spitting the word like it was poison.

You walked forward, eager to have a conversation with your Dad. The sole reason you had come down here in the first place. Lyon kept his eyes on yours, and they tightened at the corner as you approached, hate not hidden behind his eyes but seemingly on full display as you walked forward.

Your Father turned and disappeared deeper into his office, while Lyon stayed in the entrance, not moving from his position.

“Lyon,” Ares voice was chastising him. “Chill the fuck out, Jesus Christ.”

He didn't move, didn't flinch, only kept his eyes on you. You decided to give him the opposite of what he so obviously sought. Keeping your face devoid of any emotion. Once upon a time his hate for you had affected you greatly, but now? Well, now, all you seemed to give a shit about was Mallory. You stopped at the entrance, standing next to him as you inhaled your cigarette, keeping your eyes locked with his. A show of faith that you weren't scared or affected by his actions or words. A try at letting him know that his opinion of you meant nothing.

You stepped forward, further into the office and turned to close the doors for a semblance of privacy, shutting them on his ass and sending him forward a few steps. You could hear a muffled cuss word or two from the other side. You stared at the wood with a tiny smirk.

A loud sigh escaped your Father’s lips and he looked like he had gotten no sleep. He collapsed on the chair behind his desk, and pointed at something in the corner of the room.

“Get Finn to watch him tonight, I have a feeling that he's going to do something stupid.”

You were about to ask why the fuck should you care? And ‘of course he would’, he was known for doing stupid things in the heat of the moment. Like that time when you were 8 and he was 13 and he had cut your hair with a pair of scissors because you had kicked him in the nuts.

But then you realized your Dad wasn't talking to you. He was talking to Kylo.

“Yes, sir.” He nodded from the corner of the room. Nestled between two large bookshelves he sat relaxed in a leather seat, hands on the sides, ankle over his knee. The perfect vision of relaxed calamity in a dark corner. Simply watching and assessing everything.

“You almost ready to go?” Your Dad’s voice pulled your attention. His chin resting in his hands and he looked over at you, blue eyes holding sadness. He was burying his daughter today after all.

“Yeah.” You continued forward, trying to forget the man who seemed a permanent fixture in your Father‘s office. What? Was he your Dad’s PA or something? “I just wanted to talk to you about some stuff.”

“About what?”

“Well, I was wondering if you had the case file for Mallory. I was hoping I could take a look at it.”

His head raised at those words, a slight look of confusion on his face and you quelled it by filling the silence with an explanation. “I just have so many questions and I want them answered, and... I know it's painful for you to talk about it.”

You weren't completely sure he had it. It was official police documentation after all, but he was a man that appreciated the value of knowledge, and that those who wield it properly can transform it into power. Last you knew, he had a great deal of cops on his payroll, what was one case file regarding his daughter’s death?

He turned to open a drawer, pulling a manila folder from it. It was relatively thin, though the edges of the folder were well worn suggesting he had spent the last couple of days going through it intently.

"There's some things to still be added. Poe's coming around tomorrow to drop off the updated documents."

Your brows raised and your eyes darted back to your Father. "Poe's still around?" You wondered how he was fairing through all this. Once upon a time you remembered he was quite fond of your sister. One of the many that had a crush on her. You resisted the urge to curl your lips in a smile. Your eyes fell back down, and quickly read through the notes. Skimming the words quickly, you thumbed through the pages realizing you would need far more time to comb through all the information. There were a lot of big words, and you hadn’t even had coffee yet. Pulling out your phone, you snapped a quick picture of every page so you could read it later when you had more time.

"She was found in the apartment, coroner says fentanyl overdose, with traces of cocaine in her system. The official ruling they're leaning towards is accidental but...." A longing appeared behind his eyes. "there's another set of DNA at the apartment. They don't know who it belongs to."

"Not to mention she was clean. She had been for months."

Your Father shook his head slightly. "Weeks, maybe. You haven't been here." The words were not said with malice, only sincere truth. Never the less, they made you angry. "We just don’t know."

"I talked to Mallory. A lot."

"More than her Father?"

Your anger spread. With the beat of your heart speeding faster and faster, you felt the adrenaline flow to the tips of your fingers and toes. Though you maintained a perfectly still presence, you wondered how that sentence could anger you so much. If it was to do with the fact that he thought he knew her better than you? Or was it that he made it sound like he talked to her so often, while only talking to you a handful of times a year? 

What was wrong with you so badly that he didn't think of you as worthy?

And then you remembered your Mother. How could you forget? Your father never fucking did.

Jealousy and rage pushed aside to make room for cooler heads, your logic reigned King. This was not the time, or place, for an existential crisis. Not in front of your Father, or the dark gaze you could feel piercing your back, judging every movement and word that spilled from your lips.

"Did you know she had a boyfriend?"

His face stilled. Realization dawning on his face before it was replaced with another emotion. He was about to ask a question before you interrupted. It was petty, and you had swore a promise to Mallory to never tell anything to your Dad. But she was dead, and you wanted to prove a point.

"Did you know she dropped out of school a whole year before she told you she did? Or what about how she crashed the Audi when she was drunk and got a DUI?"

You could see his anger boiling up, not knowing if it was directed at you or her. This was not going the way you thought it would. Not on your second day here anyway.

"I loved her too." You tried to dampen the caustic anger that you and your Father shared. "And all I'm saying is... she was clean." If there was one thing you were sure of it was that. "I just want to help find out what was going on."

You couldn’t tell him why exactly, because that was a promise you were willing to keep. But Mallory had a close call that almost ended her life, scaring her so badly she hadn’t even had the temptation to touch the stuff again. She had been clean for months, this you were sure of.

Your Father stood up, "Whatever happened, I'm working on it." He walked around his desk, coming to grab the folder from your hands. Not with haste or anger, he simply appeared to be done on the subject. "I don't want you involved, your safety is more important."

The folder was thrown on his desk behind him, and he turned back around to face you, straightening the tie on his black suit. "I'm leaving in about half an hour, you want to come in the car with us?"

The change of subject should have been a shock. Though you were reminded that this was your Father’s way of abstaining from anger with his daughter’s when his son's usually got screamed at, or slapped. He was trying not to lose his calm manner, and even offering some form of an olive branch in the form of a ride.

You swallowed. "I kind of feel like driving. Is my car still in the garage?" Another excuse, but you didn't want to ride in the close confined quarters with him as your company.  

"I have the mechanic look at it every couple of months, he assured me it was in pristine condition."

You would have thought that was sweet, doing something nice for you. Though you guessed his ulterior motives lay with the fact that it was your Mother's car before it was yours. Unable or unwilling to sell one of the last things he had of hers, he passed it down to you instead. No one else had wanted it. Not when your Dad was willing to hand out Lamborghini’s and Aston Martin’s as well.

"Thank you." Void of sincerity, though no one would have known it, you stood up and moved towards the doors of the office. One last look in Kylo's direction confirmed his powerful gaze was still trained on you. You quickly looked away, eager to get away from the whole confrontation.

---

The Snoke family mausoleum was constructed from dark marble. The very same that littered the inside of the manor. It stood tall and large nestled amongst the others in Saint Catherine cemetery, proud in its construction and flashy exorbitance.

You guessed there was a reason; if not for the fact your Father did everything with an expensive flourish, then because it was an extremely important plot of land for him personally.

Elizabeth Snoke was your Father’s everything. You had never experienced their relationship first hand, though people had said many things about how he was before her death. She was a vision, renowned for her beauty and grace and kindness - which always confused you greatly. You were often compared to her and those were traits you definitely didn’t fucking possess. She softened the anger and ruthless nature of Andrew Snoke, so much so he decided to have children and raise a family with her while still running the family business.

You gathered it was an natural reaction - your Father building a mausoleum to house his late and dearly beloved, room enough for himself and eventually his children to slumber when they passed. You figured Lyon would have been the one to die first, running his mouth to the wrong person the reason for his premature demise. Maybe even your Dad; you didn’t think it would be Mallory.

The sun shined bright overhead, cloudless blue sky providing little shelter from the warmth of the day. Large, black sunglasses on your face, you listened to the Priest prattle on, reciting a verse from the bible about the dead finding peace in heaven. You stood beside your Father, your three brothers flanking either side. All clad in black, the five of you stood in solemn silence, contemplating on the memory of Mallory.

When you showed up in your car, you had expected to see some of her friends she talked about, anyone other than your family. Finn, or Poe paying their respects, maybe Phasma, even if out of respect for your Father. However, your Dad had assured you it was a private matter, just family, he had said.

Fuck, Mallory would have hated this.

But funerals weren’t for the dead, they were for the people they left behind. If this was his way of grieving, then you would allow him the tiny modicum of space and privacy he needed to do so.

You were ready to put your energy elsewhere, however.

The Priest finished his sermon and offered anyone else to speak any words if they wished. Silence stretched, your family stoically standing still. Everyone's eyes cast down at the shiny black lacquered casket housing your sisters body. You were thankful it remained closed.

You didn't know what anyone would have said. You had no expectations for a speech from your Dad. You understood that the men in your family found strength in silence in times of sadness.

If you were a Snoke, you simply just didn’t talk about it.

The Priest waited, sending a look towards your Father, who simply shook his head and cast his eyes down at the casket. He came over, said his condolences to you and your family, before stepping away, giving you a some privacy.

Your concentration drifted, to spy at the army of slick black vehicles your family had come in, Snoke lackeys towing along. They remained scattered around the perimeter at a distance. Making sure to give your family your privacy and provide a protective barrier. Though from this distance you didn't recognize or know the name of any of them, a part from one.  

Kylo leaned against your Dad's Rolls Royce Phantom, cigarette between his fingers, eyes fixed on what was happening. Completely focused on the service and your family.

Hair tousled slightly from the wind, crisp black suit covering his tall, broad figure. It was too far to tell but you felt like he was staring at you. Noticing his blatant presence suddenly made you cautious of your movements.You didn’t like his piercing gaze.

You weren't completely sure what he did around here. He didn't interact with other people that worked for your Dad, not that you had seen, and he was obviously trusted enough to be privy to most private family matters that happened in your his office. He had served to quickly make you feel vulnerable and self conscious; maybe that was Kylo’s purpose?

Though his broad muscles stretched under the perfectly tailored suit begged to differ. He was large enough to cause some damage it seemed, and the scar that ran down the side of his face suggested he had either seen and or done some violent shit.

Regardless, your interest was piqued.

Pathetic service over, the workers that waited were ushered forward, moving Mallory's casket into the crypt. Preparing to place her within her allotment  before beginning the process to seal the door.

"Dinner tonight?" Your Father’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I said," he stood next to you, hand resting on Roman's shoulder, and he pulled his children into a little circle. "How about dinner tonight? Family back together again... and we can say goodbye to Mallory with a drink."

You said nothing - sitting down at a dinner table with them seemed like a fucking nightmare. Roman nodded his head, Ares agreeing, Lyon looked like he was about to say something until he saw the look on your Dad's face.

Morose, fighting back whatever turmoil of emotion with a clipped smile. Brave face a complete facade. Lyon eventually agreed. Everyone turned to look at you, and you bit back a sigh.

"Sure."

"Great." He pulled away from his children. "I'll see you back home. I’ll get the good Scotch out."

Lyon pulled off with your Dad, leaving the 3 of you alone. Roman sighed, looking once more at the workers sealing off Mallory's casket in the crypt, then turned to you and Ares. "I'm heading back home. See you there?"

You two nodded, and then turned to one another. Ares smiled and put a hand on your back. Your Father was making his way back, Lyon and Roman following behind. Your eyes scanned the perimeter your Andrew’s men had made, slowly walking back to the fleet of vehicles, following your Father like dogs.

"Fuck this." Ares sighed, "I gotta get out of here." You nodded, and turned to walk back with him, back to where everyone was starting to gather around the cars.

"Are you okay?" you asked him. You figured you knew the response but he always did seem the most emotionally available of the family. Even then, it was a rare sight.

"I'll be okay. How about you?"

"I miss her a lot, especially being back home..." you looked forward at the criminal mess that was your family and your family's business. "But she's dead, and I gotta get used to it."

He bitterly laughed in agreement, "In other news, the car's looking good. I forgot that thing was even in the garage."

You followed his gaze to your car, the very last in the line. Your pristinely clean 1974 Datsun 240z, a shiny, polished beast on dark wheels. You had to admit, your Mother had taste, and with a few adjustments - cosmetic and mechanical -  made after your sixteenth birthday it really had become a magnificent sight.

"Thanks. It was tucked in a corner, cover over it and all. But you know what Dad's like with her shit." The few items left to prove her existence; a car, an oil painted portrait hanging in the library, and a few others, were immaculately kept and preserved.

"I sure do." Ares snickered a little. "You gonna come have a drink at home? Dad'll be pulling out the Macallan." He tried to sway you with extremely good whiskey.

"I will soon, I just got a few errands to run first. Then I’ll be home."

"Errands?" he questioned, his brow furrowing. "The fuck kind of errands you got to do now?"

"I have to go the pharmacy and get a few things, and then buy some new clothes since everything I have is back home. I thought it was going to be in and out sort of trip."

"Alright," he accepted the answer, "See you back home then."

The two of you separated, going to your cars. Your jumped in the drivers seat, rolling down the tinted windows to let some of the stagnant heat out. As you pulled a cigarette from your middle console, your eyes found themselves wandering back to your family. Slowly piling in their respective vehicles, your Father's men following suit. About to head back to the manor to get fucked up for the memory of Mallory.

You were glad you parked at the very end, watching their cars pull off, one by one, all towing in the line and heading for the northern exit of the large cemetery, towards home.  

You had lied.

You didn't need to go to the pharmacy, and you had brought enough clothes to last you a week, you just didn't want him privy to your whereabouts. You weren’t sure what he would do with the information.

You remembered your sister's voice, soft and kind, telling you stories of her friends over the video calls you would share on a regular basis. She had talked about Lacy often; a dancer at a club owned by your Dad. They had met while in College and had been close ever since. You had met her once or twice before you moved away, but weren't close with her like Mallory was.

You figured if anyone was going to know anything about Mallory before she passed - she would be a good place to start.

You turned the ignition, engine roaring to life with a deep rumble. Lighting the cigarette that now dangled from your lips, you shifted into first gear and pulled from the curb. Making your way off to the Supremacy.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

I Am You- Epilogue

Pairing: OC x Bang Chan x Jisung x Changbin (Stray Kids)

Genre: Romantic Fantasy

Warnings: None!

Notes: It’s here, it’s adorable, and it’s self-indulgent. Enjoy!!

The early morning sun filtered through the Venetian blinds to form a pattern of equivalent stripes against my bedsheets. Normally, I could ignore the way the sunlight infiltrated my line of vision, but my daughter provided a far more compelling alarm system. Her cries always began with faint whines which I might disorientingly miss, but they never lasted long, evolving into noisy cries that demanded attention. Groggily, I sat up against the headboard of my bed, vacantly looking out my open door where I could spot my daughter’s bedroom from across the hallway. With a defeated sigh, having already given up on the possibility of sleeping past noon, I slowly made my way to address my daughter’s grievances.

However, perhaps I had dismissed my sleeping concerns prematurely. “Changbin?” I immediately questioned, surprised to see that my mate had beaten me to my daughter’s assistance. 

“She was just hungry,” Changbin replied, cradling Nia delicately in his arms as he held a bottle to her tiny mouth. 

“You’re becoming an expert,” I joked, watching the display with a full heart.

“She’s lovely,” Changbin said, pressing a delicate kiss to Nia’s forehead. 

“I think you’re her favorite,” I quipped, winking in his direction.

“I don’t know about that,” Changbin said, but the adoration in his gaze was hard to dismiss. “I’ll take her back to sleep with me.”

I nodded my compliance. “I promised Amelia I would help her with dinner preparations in the kitchens. Will you watch Jay and Ren until I get back?”

“Of course,” Changbin easily agreed, distracted by the small purrs Nia released as her eyelids fluttered closed.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“You’re going to make me jealous,” Amelia joked as she listened to me talk animatedly about my new little pups. We were currently shucking corn behind the outside entrance of the kitchens, settling into an easy rhythm as we conversed.

“Hyunjin would love pups,” I grinned, wiping my hands against my jeans. 

“I’m thinking about it,” Amelia admitted. “It would be nice if our pups could grow up together.” 

“What’s stopping you?” I asked around an exhausted yawn.

“That,” Amelia grinned. “Those pups are a handful.”

“They’re worth it,” I reassured my friend. “It gets better once you find a routine, and my alphas are always around to help.”

“How are they coping with living together?” Amelia asked with a smirk.

“It was hard at first,” I admitted, recalling the way my competitive mates had argued relentlessly when I first found out I was pregnant. They each had their own opinion about what was best for me, and I was always too tired to argue against them. However, I think we could all agree that moving in together was the right decision since it was important for the pups to be around their fathers. And Chan had already started making room in his cabin, expanding from the back to build more bedrooms for the rest of us. 

“I bet it makes things easier.”

“Like this morning,” I nodded. “Changbin was already around to watch over the pups. Chan had an early meeting and Jisung was scheduled to lead a patrol.”

“It would only be Hyunjin and me,” Amelia sighed. 

“Not true,” I immediately countered. “I would do my best to help.”

“I think you’re my biggest advocate,” Amelia laughed, letting out a relaxed sigh as she stood from her chair. “I think dinner prep is done if you wanna head out for the day.”

“You don’t need my help tonight?”

“I have some extra hands,” Amelia remarked. “Take another day off. You should cherish the time you have with the pups while they’re still young.”

“Why can’t they be young forever?” I pouted.

“You’ll find a lot of memories of watching them grow up,” Amelia pointed out, ever the optimist. I nodded my head vacantly, tidying up our work area before making my way back to my new home.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The cabin was eerily quiet when I finally arrived. I quickly scented the air, noticing that traces of Jisung and Chan hung stale in the room. “Is anyone here?” I wondered aloud, following Changbin’s heavier scent to his bedroom. The sight that awaited me was perfectly enchanting.

Nia was sleeping soundly, curled on top of Changbin as her father’s eyelids drooped, barely able to stay open. “Binnie,” I addressed my mate who offered me a tired yawn. “Where’s Jay and Ren?”

“Jisung,” Changbin slurred, tilting his head to the side when Nia’s tiny nose sought her father’s scent. 

“Jisung?” I repeated, amused by Changbin’s obvious exhaustion. 

“He took Jay and Ren...” Changbin trailed off, squinting his eyes as he tried to remember. “Maybe an hour ago?”

“Do you need me to take Nia?” I asked, giggling when Changbin’s eyes closed.

“No,” he protested, one hand resting on Nia’s back. “I’m alright.”

“Is that so?” I questioned, perching myself down on the edge of Changbin’s bed. 

“Maybe a nap,” Changbin grunted as his free hand curled around mine. “You could lay down with me?”

“I would love to,” I sighed, taking in the image of my only daughter sleeping peacefully. “But I need to find Jay and Ren.”

“I’ll come with you,” Changbin insisted, keeping a firm grip around Nia as he started to rise.

I quickly reached out to press my palm against his chest. “You don’t have to, Binnie, I know you’re tired.”

“We’re all tired,” Changbin responded. “That includes Jisung.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“Backyard,” Changbin said. “Jay and Ren were wired this morning. Jisung thought he could tire them out.”

“That’s impossible,” I snickered, allowing Changbin to wrap his fingers through mine. “Let’s see what trouble he’s got himself into.”

As expected, Jisung could barely keep up with my rowdy boys as they initiated an aggressive play fight against their unsuspecting father. “What a surprise,” Changbin remarked, holding Nia closer as his half-lidded eyes surveyed the chaotic scene.

“Princess,” Jisung called for me, waving in my direction. “Everything is under control.”

I inclined my head to the side, watching as a visibly distraught Felix joined Changbin and me on the porch. “They’ve been doing this for an hour.”

Jisung collapsed to the ground as my sons climbed on top of his chest, ignoring their father’s protests. “Did they wear you out too?”

Felix frowned. “I wish I had that much energy.”

“That’s why Changbin sticks with Nia.”

I grinned as his gentle voice greeted the three of us with a calming familiarity. I watched as Chan joined the disarray, closing the back door firmly behind him. Changbin glanced over at my oldest mate. “I was already with Nia.”

“He’s playing favorites,” Chan whispered in my ear, hands settling against my waist.

“Channie,” I squealed, falling back against his chest as he dug his fingers into my sides.

Nia’s head rose curiously from Changbin’s shoulder to briefly appraise the situation before she nuzzled back into his neck. “You like your daddy’s scent, don’t you?” I cooed to my youngest daughter, aware of the way Changbin’s eyes lit up with pride.

Jisung grunted as he fell back on his ass, groaning when Jay and Ren took advantage of his vulnerable form. “Do you need help?” I asked, watching Jisung struggle to control the hyperactive boys.

“I’ve got this under control, princess,” Jisung assured me even as he frantically fought to contain the boys’ inspirited energy.

“Is that so?” I questioned with amusement.

“You look like you’re having trouble,” Chan remarked, grinning as he knelt down on one knee to encourage Jay and Ren into his arms. The boisterous boys immediately turned their attention to Chan, leaving Jisung to attack a more willing participant. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung coughed, slowly propping himself up with his elbows. “What did you feed them?”

“Love and affection,” I cooed, watching the way Chan easily handled both boys, gathering them into his arms.

Jisung slowly stumbled over to our group, expression wary. “I couldn’t get them to stop all morning.”

“It looks like everything’s fine now,” Felix remarked, studying the way Jay and Ren buried their tiny noses into Chan’s neck.

“They haven’t seen him all day!” Jisung protested. “Ya! Felix, I helped make them!”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you have to say it that way?”

“But I did!” Jisung insisted.

“You did fine, Jisung,” Chan said, clearly sensing Jisung’s impending breakdown. “They could all use a nap anyway.”

I reached over to carefully collect Jay into my arms to help ease Chan’s burden. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Jisung sighed loudly. “Thanks to me they’re ready for their nap.”

“Sungie,” I cooed to my mate. “You’re such a good father.”

Jisung brightened immediately, following the rest of us into the house after we extended our thanks to Felix for helping Jisung attempt to control my oldest pups. In the meantime, Chan and I brought Jay and Ren to their bedroom while Changbin and Jisung brought Nia into hers. The four of us had been in agreement that the boys should be separate from our youngest daughter until Chan could build a new bedroom.

“They’re exhausted,” Chan said, brushing back a few wayward strands of Ren’s messy curls.

“Wait until they get older,” I grinned, brushing my fingers across Jay’s chubby cheeks before meeting Chan in the doorway. My oldest mate leaned down to gently press a kiss to my lips. 

“We’ll manage.”

“As long as Jisung isn’t solely responsible for babysitting,” I remarked, grabbing ahold of Chan’s hand as I directed us into the living room. Jisung and Changbin were already waiting, occupying two of the armchairs flanking either side of the massive fireplace. 

“I need more than one Felix,” Jisung quipped, eyes watching me as I settled on top of Chan’s lap to relax against the sofa.

“You did just fine,” I reassured my mate.

“They’re certainly a handful,” Chan agreed, “but that’s why we have all four of us to handle things.”

“The super team,” Jisung said, nudging Changbin with his foot. “Why are you tired? You’ve been sleeping with Nia all day.”

“I could handle those boys better than you,” Changbin challenged, although there wasn't a single trace of malice in his tone.

Jisung chuckled at Changbin’s playful comment. “When Nia gets older, she’ll want to play more with her brothers.”

“She can handle them,” I quickly added, noticing the worry in Changbin’s eyes.

“We need more girls,” my mate said, looking at me entreatingly.

I glared at Changbin from the corner of my eye. “No more pups.”

Changbin smirked at the stern expression I wore. “Alright, angel.”

Chan’s fingers lightly ghosted across my lips. “Does that mean you’re happy with everything you have?”

I buried my face closer to his chest as I thought about my beautiful pups and my three powerful mates. “I couldn’t be more satisfied.”

THE END

[the-omni-princess]

Toys and Flowers

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary: Insecurities and some badly written jokes can hurt, especially when they come from family. (Intrusive thoughts TW)

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.2K (It got away from me whoops)

Prompt:

“I am not a toy you can play with when you’re bored or lonely or horny. I am not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. I am not a fantasy. If you want me, earn me.” - Scandal

Warnings: Angst, Insecure reader, language, intrusive thoughts, unintentionally negative comments, Avengers kinda acting like dicks but they didn’t realize it, also a splash of anxiety, a happy ending I promise, Fluff

A/N:

A little bit of self-fulfillment whoops. Still new at this so please tell me what you think.

This sorta thing comes from my own experience with these thoughts, so I’m sorry if it doesn’t quite fit someone else’s. Anyway, if you’re having negative thoughts, like our dear reader, please go speak to someone. I made this way more angsty than I originally intended.

Prompt is bolded.

Written for @sunmoonandbucky

and their #1.5kconstellationswritingchallenge :D

[Read on Ao3!]

-------------

You were fed up. This had been going on for too long, going around and around in circles for too long. Jokes you could deal with. Insecurities brought to the forefront, teasing, crude one-liners, snide comments. When they came from strangers or from people you never necessarily liked you could deal with them. But when they came from the people you considered family? They hurt, and they hurt severely. Every comment, every glance, every joke sent a searing pain down your chest.

You knew it was most likely in good fun, after all, the Avengers were known to always toss quips at each other. They called Sam and Clint Birdie, teased Steve and Bucky about being old, and there was always some form of ribbing against Vision when he didn’t understand a meme despite being the literal embodiment of the internet. Yet despite all that, every joke that was aimed at you hurt you more than you care to admit.

Thwack. Thump. Every hit of your fists against the punching bag did little to help the anger in your chest, the anxiety, the hurt. Fighting back tears, you tried to block out the voices in your head reminding you of every joke you heard the others say as you kept hitting the bag. You thought you were overreacting, but then another jest meant to just be a poke in the ribs felt like a knife made of fire being pushed into your heart.

Sweat rolled down your back, it prickled at your neck, and you weren’t sure if the wetness on your cheeks was tears or sweat anymore. Sniffling, you paused, wiping your hot face with a towel, and downed half of your remaining water bottle. You sighed, fanning yourself with the towel, not that it helped the sweat clinging to your grey t-shirt or your gym shorts very well.

More comments swirled in your head, anxiety that you weren’t good enough to be an avenger started to creep back into your head, so you tossed the bottle and towel back to the ground and resumed punching. The comments were bad, but they were manageable. At least you thought so. Until a certain super-soldier, who you most definitely had a crush on, started to join in. You were happy he was starting to open up, but when his teasing started to join Sam’s the pain in your chest grew, along with the wall you built around yourself.

Burying yourself in paperwork, reports, and training, you did everything you could to not be in the Compound’s living room when you knew everyone else was there. You even tended to your outhouse garden more often than usual. Those thoughts are what brought you here, to the gym, to punch the shit out of a punching bag for the third time that day, instead of upstairs eating dinner with the rest of the team. It was too late to be out in the garden, your fairy lights you recently bought not fully installed yet, you were weeks ahead of paperwork, and there hadn’t been a new mission to report recently so your last hope was the gym.

Natasha was the first to notice your absences after you repeatedly started to miss dinners with the team and refused to say anything to her about it. “Has anyone seen Y/N today?” She suddenly questioned in the middle of dinner that Friday night, another dinner you were spending in the gym. Eyes all looked towards the redhead, as they started to realize you weren’t there again.

Tony was the first to speak up, sipping away at his drink “Passed by her on the way here, said she was heading to the gym.”

Steve was the next person to speak, hands fiddling with his fork, “But I saw her this morning at the gym, it was really early, and she seemed to tire herself out, why would she go back there so soon?”

Wanda then spoke up, “Her mind has been clouded recently, she blocks me out mentally, but she is blocking us all out as well.”

Sam gave her a confused look, unaware of what was the problem, “Why would she do that?”

“Because you idiots keep making fun of her,” Natasha snapped. She had seen the way you closed yourself off from a conversation the second a joke landed a low blow in your self-esteem. An off comment that maybe the new gal needed more training after she missed a shot during a mission. A quip about something new you were trying. Natasha noticed that not every joke had sent you spiraling, that most you were used to, and some truly were funny enough that you didn’t care, but she also noticed how close you had been to tears as you quickly excused yourself to your room after Bucky teased you the day prior.

Wanda looked up from her plate towards Natasha, the gears in her head practically visible as she connected the dots. “The boys’ comments and jokes about her fuel her anxiety!” She suddenly declared, and the room quickly silenced.

Sam’s eyebrows lifted, almost comically, “But she knows we are just having fun, right? We don’t mean any of it seriously, after all we make fun of the Olsen Twins for their age all the time, and Tinman for being slow.”

“Doesn’t mean the comments don’t hurt,” Bucky put his head in his hands, his own mind quickly filling in the blanks, finally noticing that the emotions in your face as you shuffled out of meetings and movie nights after a joke was betrayal and pain. He was quite acquainted with what pain looked like, and still he managed to miss it in you, though in hindsight he saw it now. The light leaving your eyes as Tony aimed a joke at you, your responding smile never reaching your eyes, your laugh sounding almost fake and forced before you practically sprinted towards your room muttering some excuse about being behind on mission reports.

“From what I’ve been noticing, not all the teasing seemed to affect her, but perhaps you were being a bit harsh on her when you said she needed more training after that mission last week Sam, or the comment about shirt yesterday Bucky,” Clint finally spoke up, having quietly observing everything from his spot on the windowsill couch.

“I was trying to compliment that shirt!” Bucky tried to defend, only to have Natasha snicker.

“’That’s an interesting choice’ is not a compliment,” Natasha glared at him, making him groan as he realized he had been acting like an ass towards you this entire time. “You know this all explains a lot, especially how she looked like she was seconds away from crying when Buckaroo here made some joke at her.” The man in question looked up, equal parts confused and upset. He had made you cry? Why would some joke, one that Sam had already said that didn’t elicit a response, get such a negative one when it came from him? Natasha snickered again, this time because Bucky looked like a kicked puppy. “You haven’t noticed oldie? Poor girl has had a crush on you practically since the moment she met you two years ago.” His heart stopped, then promptly dropped down into his stomach. He was making the girl he liked miserable and he didn’t even know it.

“You didn’t notice Bucky?” Wanda expressed almost remorse as she saw clouds of regret swirling in his head. “The extra cookies she hides away specifically for you, the coffee always ready for you in the morning, the small blushes when you look at her, the smile that lights up her face the second you actually compliment her?” The redhead was listing off the reasons he started to fall for you. The sweet girl, way too good for the world, for him, and the fiercest warrior out on a mission. You had missed that shot because Bucky’s cover would have been blown if your aim had been true. You had taken metaphorical bullets for him multiple times, always the first to defend him whenever someone came after him, especially whenever Ross or some Hydra goon started to monologue him on his past.

Shoving himself from the table, Bucky quickly stood, “I have to go fix this,” he muttered, mostly to himself, already rushing to the gym to find you.

“She’s stubborn, it’s not going to be that easy Bucky!” Steve tried calling out to his best friend, well aware of how Bucky felt about you. His comment fell on deaf ears and Bucky sprinted to the gym where you were still trying to lose yourself to your moves.

Jaws clenched, you kept swinging at the bag in front of you. You were tiring out, your exhausted mind probably catching up with your fatigued body. The gym door behind you swung open, making you jump, wide eyes locking onto a frantic looking Bucky. He looked disheveled, and you noticed his erratic breaths as if he ran here.

Suddenly hyper-aware of your own dishevelment, your body sweaty and tired from working out, you tried to make yourself smaller; quickly turning back to the bag, you swung at it again with new found energy. “What’s up, Buck?”

You could practically feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was soft, and, dare you to say it, pained. Your hands fell from the punching stance you had them up in, turning to face him with a puzzled look.

“Whatcha mean Bucky? What didn’t I tell you?”

“The intrusive thoughts Y/N… how much my comment about your shirt actually hurt you, really how many of the comments or jokes I made towards you hurt you.” Your body froze, completely caught off guard by him cornering you.

Feeling a bit petty and standoffish, you mustered your best death glare, though it no doubt probably did nothing towards the ex-assassin, “Why would I tell you?” Swiftly turning to grab your discarded water bottle and towel you muttered under your breath, “Why would I tell any of you?”

“Because we’re your family Y/N/N” he responded softly. Damn super soldier hearing. Chancing a glance towards him, you could see his hunched shoulders, his hands fidgeting with the end of his shirt.

His anxious body behavior only fueled you on, suddenly wanting to get out of this conversation as fast as possible yet wanting to confirm every negative thought in your head, you practically snarled at him. “Family don’t hurt each other… they shouldn’t hurt each other.” You whispered the last part, unexpectedly frozen where you stood.

You couldn’t look up at his face, fully aware he probably had some cute puppy dog look aimed your way. You couldn’t stand those looks, you knew your resolve would melt instantly if you looked towards them. His silence somehow hurt more than you thought it would. Your body finally getting with the idea of running from this, you turned away again, heading towards the door.

“Doll…” Bucky started, clearly, about to go on some tangent, you stopped him.

“No doll Bucky. I’m used to the comments… strangers, co-workers even, definitely kids when I was younger… I just thought they would stop eventually, along with these thoughts in my head, guess that was naive of me to think that.”

“Y/N please don’t do this, please, just let me explain. Fuck I didn’t mean those comments like that, Y/N, I tried to say it as a compliment. God, I really like you, and I’m terrible at speaking whenever you come around, and I didn’t mean it like the way it came out doll,” You didn’t hear him move, you just abruptly felt his hand around your wrist.

Pulling it back towards your body as if his touch burned you, you spun on your heels to face him. Rash and hotheaded as always, your words came out like venom aimed straight towards the man in front of you, “I am not a toy you can play with when you’re bored or lonely or horny. I am not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. I am not a fantasy. If you want me, earn me.” You were too quick with your harsh words to realize the full weight of his words, only reacting blindly to the hatred your mind had been building towards yourself and lashing it out towards Bucky. He looked as if he had been slapped in the face by your words. The truth was, you did like the pet names, especially from him, especially when they were on the back end of his praise for you when training or after a particularly good mission. However, your need for a punching bag or the need for these thoughts to not be focused on you for once, made you throw them at the one person in this entire compound you wanted to hurt the least.

You scrambled towards the door, trying to bite back your tears and keep your resolve. You didn’t look back as you rushed towards your room, knowing that if you took one look at the heartbroken man you left standing at the gym, you would sob at his feet. You shut the door behind you promptly sliding to the floor in your room, your back against the door. “FRIDAY, don’t let anyone in. For anything.” You called out, knowing the AI would catch it.

“Are you sure Ms. Y/L/N? My sensors are indicating your elevated heart rate and erratic breathing, it is recommended for me to contact Mr. Stark or the Med Bay.” The AI dutifully replied, making you cry out. You put your head in your hands, feeling the wetness of your cheeks, making you realize you were already crying. When did that happen?

“No! Please FRIDAY, please don’t let an-anyone in… Please. I don’t want them to see me like this.” Your speech slurred faintly, sniffling as you tried to get a hold of yourself. You just felt weak, too drained to shower or eat or even pull yourself from the floor you currently were residing. As your thoughts finally slowed you exhaled shakily, the anxiety and intrusive thoughts gone, leaving a blank mind except for a startling realization to what Bucky said before you snapped. “God, I really like you.”

You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but considering the light hitting your eyes from the window, you figured it must have been a while ago. You shuffled to get comfortable in the sheets around you, desperate for a few more minutes of the nothingness of sleep. Wait… when did you go to bed? Hadn’t you fallen asleep on the floor? You sat up quickly, ignoring the burn in your eyes at the sudden light change as you surveyed the room. “FRIDAY? How did I get to bed last night?” You asked carefully, truthfully scared of the answer.

“Mr. Stark used his override code to enter your room shortly after you fell asleep. Sergeant Barnes put you in bed before returning to his own quarters.”

Groaning as you got out of bed, you realized you were still in your work-out clothes from the previous night, at least Bucky didn’t try to change you last night. Well, why would he? Your mind started to think as you headed for the bathroom to shower, suddenly grateful you woke up in your bed instead of on the floor. You suddenly froze, halfway to the bathroom door as you remembered one small detail of last night: “God, I really like you.”

Pushing away from the thoughts in your head, you quickly showered and got dressed. Going through routines helped the thoughts in your head from swirling around so much. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a cereal bowl as you ignored how quiet it suddenly got when you walked in. Pouring all the necessary (and frankly colorful) ingredients and sitting down, you paused, spoon halfway to your mouth as you noticed most of the Avengers staring at you. “What?” You said it defensively, the simple word carrying a small amount of venom behind it.

Sam spoke up first, eyes locking with yours, “Y/N I’m sorry- no, no interrupting, eat your breakfast and let me say it, no running away Y/N/N” he spoke carefully, gentle yet clearly concerned. You gave him a wary look before starting to eat your cereal. Sam took that as an invitation to speak again. “I’m sorry, no, well yes, but we are all sorry. We didn’t realize the jokes we said were hurting you, and we hope you can forgive us and open up to us again. Y/N/N we miss seeing you around here. Your family but you’re avoiding us, we didn’t even realize what we said was causing you pain and behalf of all of us, even though most of it was my jokes, we are all sorry for making you feel like you weren’t a valuable part of this family.” You winced, hearing the guilt in his voice, conscious everyone was probably looking towards you as you stared at your cereal. “Because you are a valuable member of this family Y/N, and we miss seeing you happy.” That was the nail in the coffin, the tears that were bubbling in your eyes suddenly, but thankfully quietly, spilling down your face.

Sniffling, you looked up at Sam and the rest of the team, your view starting to get a bit blurry as tears clouded your vision. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys,” your eyes making a point of looking at Bucky. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night, hair mussed, his hand most likely running through it several times throughout the night. You quickly looked away before your resolve to finish your thoughts crumbled. “I thought I could just get past the thoughts, the words, the jokes, I was probably just hoping it would go away… thanks for being there, I know I can be kind of a mess, I’m not always perfect, but I’ll try to actually talk through these thoughts, and… feelings.” A few heads nodded, the tension dissolving in the room.

“Now, with the messy stuff outta the way, when you finish your breakfast, someone is requesting your presence at your garden kid,” You looked up at Tony, confused as you tried wiping your tears, happy you were talking through things for once instead of being rash. He shook his head, “No details coming out of me kid, just relaying the message.” He was quick to leave the room.

Your face must have looked perplexed still because Steve spoke up as he headed out as well, “Just trust us Y/N/N, you have a surprise waiting for you down there,” Steve knew how much you adored the greenhouse garden you had practically begged Tony to help you install when you became an Avenger. It had been the only thing you have ever asked of him, your small piece of comfort. Tending new flowers and growing herbs became a habit when you were younger, a positive way to keep yourself distracted from the thoughts in your head and the worries of the outside world.

The kitchen was now relatively empty, leaving a certain redheaded Russian alone with you. Natasha walked over, kissing your head motherly, “I’m always here to talk Malen'kiy,” she spoke softly, hugging you gently from the side. You rested your head against her, a faint smile on your face, your first real smile in a while.

“I know, thanks, Nat. I promise I’ll actually talk to you next time,” your voice was just as soft as you looked up adoringly at your practically adoptive sister. Nat had always been the one to know you the best. She knew you had these thoughts, always the clever one, but she didn’t realize they had become this bad.

“Now, hurry up and go to that garden you love before I have to kick your butt and drag you there myself,” You chuckled, smiling up at her as she playfully nudged your arm towards the door. Something was definitely going on. Three Avengers in cahoots to send you to your garden? Suspicious. You walked a little faster than usual down to your garden, wondering what was such a big deal that everyone really wanted you to go there.

The door’s open. That weird, I always close it. You thought as you approached the greenhouse. Walking inside you were flabbergasted, it looked completely different, in a totally good way. The weeds you had missed the other day were already uprooted, the floor swept, the fairy lights you had been dying to put up were already up and on. But what surprised you most were the new flowers that had lined the formerly empty new section you weren’t quite sure what to put there.

It was right beside the bench you used to read when you wanted to be alone after rough missions and no matter what plant you could think of, nothing ever felt right being put there. It would be the scent that would surround while you read, the light perfect there for reading, so you wanted something nice but none of your choices stuck. You already had those type of flowers, or it just felt wrong next to the bench, but the arrangement of flowers currently there now? They were perfect. Purple violets, purple lilacs, yellow daisies, red carnations, and hydrangeas.

Caught up in the new additions to your garden, you didn’t notice Bucky sitting on the bench beside the flowers at first. You knew the meaning of these new additions, but you weren’t quite sure what to say. “Did you do all of this?” you kept your voice low, eyes locking onto the sheepish blue eyes in front of you. Dark circles surrounded those beautiful eyes you tried so hard not to think about. He nodded slowly, a hopeful look in his eyes as he motioned for you to join him on the bench. “Last night… I couldn’t sleep… so I decided to do what you said I should do.”

“Which was?” you prompted, still a bit wary that this was some big joke against you.

“Earn you…” his eyes locked onto yours before he continued. “Y/N, I’m sorry for all the things I said, I know Sam did a big ‘forgive all’ sorta’ apology but I wanted to say I’m sorry personally. Y/N… I’m sorry, dreadfully, absolutely, completely, and utterly sorry.” He was biting his lower lip, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on his fingers as he waited for your response with bated breath.

You gulped faintly at the implications of what he was saying and one key phrase he had said last night was replaying in your head. “God, I really like you” Your eyes fell from his gaze, looking towards the flowers, did he even know what this all meant?

“Bucky, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt, and I accept your apology about, well everything I guess. And thanks for fixing up the place,” you found the courage to say your thoughts, still locked onto the flowers. “Did you really not get any sleep just to do all of this for me?”

“Yes.” He said it quickly, with conviction, and when your attention snapped back to him, you noticed how nervous he seemed. Nodding faintly, you sat on the bench beside him, just out of his reach, he would have to scoot over to be near you.

You leaned against the arm of the bench, bent towards the new flowers. “They’re perfect by the way. I could never find a good combination of scents and colors for this spot, but you managed to do it beautifully.” You heard Bucky shuffle behind you, most likely still fidgeting, his metal fingers bumping against the metal of the rings on his right hand.

“Steve may have mentioned how he overheard you upset you were that you couldn’t figure out what to put there,” apprehensively he added, “Do you really like them?”

At that, you turned back towards him, grinning brightly at him. “They absolutely perfect Bucky.” You spoke with the same conviction he spoke earlier. Still gathering the nerve, you looked back towards the flowers, already enveloped by their scent, calming you as you spoke. “Do you know what each flower means?” Your voice was soft again, hopeful. That it wasn’t some accident he chose these specific flowers.

“Yes.” He answered simply. You turned towards him, his blue eyes, nervousness, and hopefulness evident in them.

“Then tell me,” you smiled warmly, feeling your cheeks warm up as he smiled back at you.

“Why do I have a feeling you already know?”

“Because I do… it’s just… some flowers can have multiple meanings, I want to know what you meant by each one.” You knew you were most definitely blushing at the moment, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as he moved closer, thigh now pressed against your own. He started to point out each flower and he explained.

“Purple violets mean that the giver’s thoughts were, and I’m quoting the website here darling, ‘were occupied with love’ to the person they are giving it too,” you giggled, smiling up at him as he continued with a bit more confidence. “Purple lilacs symbolize the first emotions of love, yellow daisies mean anything from youthful beauty to loyal love to new beginnings, I was honestly aiming for all three, as they remind me of you.” You noticed how Bucky was now blushing, eyes turned to focus on the flowers, nervousness flooding him again. “Red carnations mean love, pride, and admiration, and finally the hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions, but I like their second meaning more.” He paused, biting his lip again before continuing,

“That they can be used to express gratitude for being understood… Y/N, you’re amazing. You’re always kind, you’re never quick to judge but you're quick to protect, you’re fierce, whether it’s beating up bad guys or defending one of us. What I’m saying,” he finally looked back up at you, “I like you a lot Y/N. You showed me kindness and welcomed me here at the compound before I could even remember what either of those words meant anymore. You’re hot-headed, rash, too stubborn for your own good, quick to jump into a fight, you and Steve have that in common. But you’re also quick-witted, ambitious, and God I’m rambling, again aren’t I? I just… I wanted to show you some of the beauty you show me every time you walk through the door without even trying.” You couldn’t stop smiling as Bucky spoke, somewhere along the line you two had started holding hands and you most definitely weren’t letting go anytime soon. “I’ve fallen in love with you without you even trying doll.” He froze, realizing the pet name rolled so easily off his tongue, the same one that had upset you the night before.

You released one of his hands, gently placing it to cusp his jaw, “Bucky, I think I have some of my own confessions to make” your voice was soft, and it surprised you that you even could speak. Here was the man of your literal dreams confessing his love for you in the garden you had built from the ground up. “Before you panic, I actually like the pet names, I just… last night I was really wound up, and I lashed out at you, I’m sorry Buck...” He visibly softened at your words, elated he could go back to calling you that, but he still stared at your intertwined hand. “I really like you to…” his eyes shot up from to meet yours.

“Really?” If anyone knew that the formidable Winter Soldier had practically whimpered out that word, you knew Sam would never let Bucky live it down. You just smiled, standing and gently tugged him into the garden. You had a second bench, hidden amongst the thick foliage of the surrounding trees and vines. The bench was at the edge of a hidden circle opening, the circle was lined with rock and shells, the center filled with soft blankets and fluffy pillows. This was your favorite place to nap, the quiet secluded heart of the garden just hidden in the darkness, and away from the exit. Bucky hadn’t been the first to enter the garden, but he was the first you were willingly showing this part of it. It was your, or well our now you guessed, little secret. Fairy lights, these installed by you as the first batch you received, surrounded the circle.

You sat towards the edge of the circle, just a bit off from the bench, motioned him to join you on the fluffy pillows you sat on. He hesitantly sat beside you, close but cautious, unsure of what you were doing but trusting you completely. “Do you know why this small area is my favorite spot but is the one area of the entire garden I don’t let anyone into?” You asked softly, gently holding his soft yet calloused hands in your lap. He shook his head, intrigued but staying silent. You pointed towards the bush in front of you, small blue forget-me-nots dotting the bush. “They remind me of you.” You confided, looking towards him. His eyes gazed back towards you, full of admiration, awe, and, dare you to say, love. “There’s the obvious memory joke in there, but that’s not why they remind me of you. They symbolize a love brimming with memories, and every time I look at them I remember the hundreds of times your eyes look at me with such awe, like you can’t believe I’m real. No one’s ever looked at me like that before. Their color reminds me of your eyes, those ocean eyes I could get lost in if I’m not paying attention, the eyes I’m searching for during those boring briefs before meetings. They also symbolize how I don’t want you to forget about me one day.” You saw the emotions flash in those very eyes you could fall into as you spoke.

Bucky gently moved closer, his hands now cradling your jaw as he spoke. “I could never forget about you doll.” His words pushed you forward almost subconsciously, finally daring to get closer to the man you could see yourself falling in love with. Every second went by painfully slow as the two of you grew closer, until Bucky’s lips met with yours. You hummed happily, his thumbs rubbing soft circles against your cheeks as you finally kissed. Your hands found themselves at the nape of his neck, gently tugging at his hair as he deepened the kiss. You pulled away finally, suddenly very aware about the burning need in your lungs to breathe. Bucky, ever the super soldier, was the first to recover, grinning as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since forever.”

You laughed at that, biting your bottom lip, noticing how kiss swollen Bucky’s lips were. “Stop being cheesy and kiss me again Bucky, matte’ of fact, never stop kissing me,” You said softly, pulling him back for more. He smiled against your lips as you both finally felt content, surrounded by flowers and fairy lights.

[heeres-suffering]

Be More Alluring: a Personality Swap AU

[pic description and source will be at the bottom of this post, under the read more]

Start of summary:

“You need to be more alluring.”

"... don’t you mean attractive?”

“I do not. Your attractiveness is adequate, Brooke; if you want to mask your apparently latent queerness, you have to make them want you straight. Isn’t that why your step-father defended you?” 

Brooke Lohst is a loser.

But you know what? That was okay.

She always knew she was a weird one. The intensity of her affection for puppies, picture books, and near-constant daydreaming has lasted well-past a normalcy she can’t seem to grasp; when coupled with her inability to befriend anyone (besides the similarly self-identified loser Michael Mell), it’s not a surprise the rest of her peers have left her behind.

However, there were... ah, worse things in her life to worry about then some mild bullying. She liked her passion well enough, and all of her true insecurities went largely unnoticed, so any insults or weird looks rarely lingered in her mind. It’s not like she was a constant target either, which helped a lot. All in all, she just planned to hunker down, wait out the awkwardness of High School like everyone else, and move on to the rest of her life... 

Except.

When Brooke develops a crush on a girl she’s never talked to, after years of avoiding fairy tale romance and trying not to think about the inevitability of marriage (or how finicky her attraction to boys is in the first place), it feels like her whole world is about to cave in. She’d do anything to make sure her parents, especially daddy, never find out... including buying an edible super computer from the loudest, tiniest guy in school.

End of summary.

Alright!

Hi, hello, it’s Mod Seb, and here’s an AU I’ve been rolling around for a few days! You are free to do with this concept whatever you want, but I wanted to introduce it with a good chunk of the info I’ve already worked out in my head.

So. As the CWs are... too numerous, I’m going to go with a blanket “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” label and encourage you not to read the rest of this if you have any big darkfic triggers that could be upset by mere mention; this isn’t a fic tho, so descriptions of anything awful won’t last long. 

Although, I will mention upfront that Brooke isn’t a binary lesbian. I know the description might read like I’m setting her up to be 100% homosexual; she’s bi with a strong preference for girls, and anyone who presents soft enough in gender or appearance. If it wasn’t for the end-game pairings, her unfamiliarity with smaller details/history of the LGBTQ+ community, and general “gay newb” status, she’d likely ID as a bi lesbian!

(ships and everything else under the Read More)

Okay. That out of the way, there’s quite a number of pairings; I’m pretty sure it’s a super polyamorous and sexual AU, though you’re free to change this list as much as you’d like:

[bolded are end-game ships. italics physically hook up at least once. strike-through means they were in a relationship but break-up in some way before the ending. (H) stands for healthy, while (T) is toxic and/or noncon. underlined characters are pining for the other and may never confess their true feelings]

Brooke/Christine (H), Brooke/Rich (H), Brooke/Jenna (H), Brooke/Michael (H), Brooke/Chloe (T), Brooke/her Daddy (T), Brooke/Squip (H), Brooke/Jeremy (soft T at first bc of mirrored canon-compliant manipulation, H later on), Brooke/Squip/Jeremy (H), Brooke/Squip/Jeremy/Rich (H), Rich/Moses (H), [insert every form of Rich/Mo/Squip/Jeremy here] (H), Jeremy/Chloe (T), Jeremy/Michael (H), Michael/Christine (H), Michael/Christine/Mr. Heere (H; no, seriously), Madeline/Brooke (H)

This is, of course, a role swap AU where Brooke and Jeremy trade places based on my personal lore for their home lives. I always have some pretty fucked ideas as I don’t imagine MB is a great place with great adults, and I pick and choose which parts of canons I use and which I don’t. 

There is no definite ending planned in mind as this isn’t an outline; it’s meta (or an imagine or w/e) for an AU that you’re free to do whatever with. 

So,

The big difference is that Brooke was picked by Michael, while Jeremy was picked by Chloe. Jeremy is trans and hadn’t come out yet; if Chloe had known he was a boy, she wouldn’t have grabbed him. In contrast, Michael’s never gave a shit about potential friends genders.

Jer and B’s personalities... are altered some. Not ALL the way, but kiiinda fusing into their roles, kinda tweaked (I'll get back to that).

The main point of this for me was Brooke/Squip/Jeremy, with B/Jer having a MUCH stronger focus than in canon, and a really bad Chloe acting as one of the major villains.

Michael gets roped into Chloe’s shit, even tho he's still generally a good guy here, bc he's worried about B and thinks she can't properly take care of herself.

While B DOES have a strong crush on Christine, she’s the opposite of the Squip’s “goal”; that’s (obvs) masking, or making passably digestible, her queerness.

Her Mom and step-’Daddy’ have reacted to her friendship w/ ‘openly gay moms, also very flamboyant and GNC’ Michael... poorly.

Michael thinks the solution has to be “act as aggressively yourself as you can, and if they reject you, you know me and the mom’s have a space for you”. This works for him bc he’s permanently hyper-visible, what with all of his own marginalized identities. But, not only has she flied under the radar in comparison to him for years, he doesn’t know everything about her life.

In fact, he doesn’t know most of it. She’s very good at hiding things.

Meanwhile, Jeremy, one of the more popular ‘boy... ish’ (we’ll get to this, too) people in school, is mid-psychosis and self-destruction. He actually has schizo-affective disorder--as is the case with all of my versions of Jeremy--which he needs medication for. Combined that with so many bad influences and trauma, he can no longer fully control himself or his life.

The way he handles this (badly) is to ‘whore around’--which, besides being Chloe’s pet, is kinda why he’s so popular. Nobody respects him, but he’s viewed some form of favorably.

Jeremy is in a relationship with Rich, but he won't let him get as close/protective as Rich wants; Mo and Rich were doing their own man-whoring (but healthy, just droppin’ panties and making dudes and chicks swoon--yeah, Rich is out as bisexual, this is a very ‘the Squips are a good thing’ AU) to gain their standard reputation, but in the course of that, they got together with Jeremy and it became... complicated. Both of them are very "nnn" about how bad his life is for Jer.

The way that their personalities are altered is... okay. To explain this, I have to talk about my characterization of canon-Brooke and Jeremy in relation to this, starting with Brooke:

I imagine B as just a liiittle below the line of "all the way there" for sorta-similar reasons to Jeremy here: trauma, and Chloe (which is why that’s what Jeremy gets in this, it’s just WAY worse when compounded by everything else). She’s also--like me, and like almost every character I write as a result--autistic, in a near-permanent state of “not enough accommodations” and over-stimulation. This leads to a lot of dissociation and a very wandering mind, as well as being perceived as a bimbo or dumb blonde or w/e misogynistic bullshit is projected onto her by the boys she dates (she’s also much more down the middle bi outside this AU).

So, going back to how she is for this AU: she's actually not super nerdy, despite the close connection she and Michael have. Honestly, it’s their general neurodivergent weirdness that bring them together, and so she’s mostly adopted her nerdy interests through him, whether directly a thing he likes, or finding a whimsical variant that fits her tastes.

Obviously, unlike Jeremy, she doesn’t mind being called a loser. She does any insinuation she might be queer. This including anyone who calls her gay or a dyke.

She has too much Cis Male Trauma (unlike canon, where it comes from both cis angles) to really entertain the idea of a Traditionally Male Partner. This means she skews HEAVILY towards hard GNC guys at the very least, and generally finds herself most interested in the idea of enbies and women. she's also not super into butches tho, bc her trauma mixing with her sexuality has latched on to Strong Masc People Are A Threat. 

An expansion on her interests, in canon and otherwise: animals, ASMR/sensual service work (including massages and stuff), spending hours just sorta sitting by herself and letting her imagination wander, fairy tales, and YA-and-under fantasy books.

(Here, she tries to avoid het or f/f romance... except that, this past year or two, she’s started really like m/m stuff--esp after getting REALLY into drag shows, which she could enjoy safely since girls like Chloe have gotten into them too; in canon, she’s a romance fanatic)

Now... this is one of the really darkfic element; she's fucking her step-dad. 

She does this so that he doesn't walk out on her, her mom, and her little sister*. Her mom has a good-enough job as a standard office woman, but he makes enough to pay the rent on their nice townhouse and all the bills she can’t. So, after he expressed interest in Brooke and then casually mentioned he could always just leave if she wasn’t comfortable, she reluctantly entered a relationship with him

(* = her sister is currently know as her brother; he’s like 12 or 13, and started showing signs of trans/queerness which have been Heavily Discouraged. Brooke worries about him a lot)

((I didn’t use she/her pronouns bc I’m not entirely sure he would change them? This is an OC Oli created at the beginning of our interest in BMC, and we haven’t worked on him at all since, so how his characterization will be is up in the air))

Canonically, Brooke's "in love" with her daddy, which is a self-imposed delusion; if she actually addressed it, she’d says she’s well aware that’s not true, but it's so much easier to pretend when you’re cornered like that. Brooke’s life blows.

She’s a lot more honest to herself about hating him here; still, she tries to be as polite and generally-friendly as she can, doing what he says whenever he wants.

OKAY, THAT’S BROOKE. If any of that is badly described or potentially-offensive, it’s just bc I glossed over SO MUCH DETAIL, even in that amount of it!

So. Jeremy.

I don’t have to go over him much and we’re all mostly aware of how I feel about him and also I don’t have the energy to do this again--

(just... read my fics The Devil at your Door or hello yesterday or something... eyyy actually do that, my ao3 username is Sedusa, blah blah blah ANYWAY)

--but basically: He's still very nerdy, like, he’s super into film as well as video games (which is another constant for me), but after being largely ignored in elementary, he's been trailing behind Chloe at her orders since they were in 6th grade. As a result he isn't very open about... any of his interests.

In 7th grade, he came out as trans to everyone. Chloe was furious, but at the same time, intrigued; this was around the time Chloe gets her own... ah shit I gotta go into that too--

--yet another hc of mine is that Chloe gets a Squip on accident around this time at a party (there was one in a “”candy bowl””), and from there, she claws her way up the ladder. I... will not go into that much, but her Squip was crippled by the drugs and alcohol in her system, and therefore largely at her mercy. She’s used his power to manipulate certain things about herself and to sharpen her focus on popularity to the point she’s full-blown Alpha Bitch.

Man, I’ve had to go on so many tangents, I apologize.

Anyway, she drags Jeremy around as a punching bag. She constantly mocks Jeremy's transness, even though she usually calls him by his correct name and pronouns.

This has made the rest of the school follow her lead, hence why I said “boy-ish”; he’s popular, he’s technically ‘well liked’, but nobody really takes him seriously. This is compounded by Chloe’s refusal to let him dress in 'dorky' casual clothes, and, as he’s both too poor to afford designer clothes and also generally hates popular guy fashion, he has to wear the hyper femme clothing Chloe specifically tells him too/

As such, people call him a boy but largely see him as either an idiot, a slut, an attention seeker, or all of the above.

So of course, in Brooke's place, his neurodivergence is more prominent than ever; every day he slips further into this psychosis and self-infantilization haze, as his his mom leaving, his dad severely depressed, Chloe's sexual violence, and other repressed trauma (see: my fic hello yesterday on ao3) all weighing on him. This makes him INCREDIBLY regressed, like, all the time by Junior year.

And then Brooke's Squip (IE: canon Squip) falls in love with Jeremy extremely fucking hard. He pushes her to date him as a way to compromise on her queer desires, since Jeremy is technically a boy, and certainly a few other straight-ish girls have hooked up with him in the past.

WHEW. That is a fucking lot. To wrap this up, lemme go over the interpersonal relationships not already mentioned, and what directions I think it takes.

First off, Madeline has a more prominent role, as I quite like her tbh; she’s a sex worker, she has her own Squip, she’s one of Chloe’s most hated enemies, and she gravitates towards both Brooke and Jeremy. She’s also Actually French, Chloe’s just weird.

(Anyway she prolly sees through Brooke’s straight act and asks her why she’s pretending to be a good little cishet. It rattles Brooke.)

Chloe is scum. This bears repeating. She DEFINITELY rapes Brooke at the Halloween party, and becomes obsessed with her, along with already being obsessed with Jeremy and Jake. 

Jake, by the way, has a lot of regressive behavior and impulsiveness bc he’s been in an abusive relationship off and on with Chloe for years now.

Speaking of Jake, moving on to his best bro: Rich doesn’t set himself on fire. He’s having a good time with his Squip.

But.

He IS set on fire at the Halloween party.

Instead of the Smartphone Hour being about Rich's instability, it's actually about the mystery of Someone Did It To Him But No One Saw Who It Was, They Were Disguised.

The answer relates to the fact that Rich and Brooke are ALSO hooking up, after she’s already with Jeremy, bc he Properly introduces her to him and the three of them hit it off really well.

(She initially wasn’t interested, but while Rich is loud and still kinda abrasive, his Squip doesn’t drive him to act like a bully--and in private, his nerdiness is really obvious and he’s extremely gentle with her and Jeremy. Add to that that he’s bi and trans*, when Brooke connects best w/ queer men over cishet one, and it off-sets his masc-ness enough to make him an Exception.

* = I always imagine him as trans. See: all of Vanceypants fics.)

Sooo... the culprit is actually Brooke's daddy, who sees her with this obvious heartthrob and Cannot let that be.

Chloe convinces Michael that the Squips are Very Very Bad and has him team up with her to force Brooke into drinking Red, with the intention to convince him to kill himself after to get him out of the way, bc she’s really going nuts at this point.

Eventually, he snaps out of it when he and Christine get together (he’s thought he was Full Homo all of his life, but Christine’s prolly genderqueer-ness makes him realize “oh shit, I’m bisexual”) and she starts to question why he’s acting the way he is towards Christine.

He also definitely has a crush on Jeremy and during his time with Chloe he kinda tried to flirt a little but couldn’t really... he’s not up for dating someone as sexually active and a push-over as Jeremy is in this.

However, when he snaps out of Chloe’s manipulation, he and Christine approach Mr. Heere to convince him to straighten up and help Jeremy and also bc they really need an adult to successfully fight Chloe.

This requires a month+ of Christine getting him to see her psychiatrist (the one who prescribes her ADHD meds). Jeremy spends the majority of his time staying with Chloe, and very rarely comes home to gather things or to make sure his dad is eating/still alive, as much as he can remember to in his own haze of mental illness. Anyway, point is, he doesn’t know Christine and Michael are there often... not that, in the course of growing close to Mr. H, they both fall for him hard and it becomes one of my stranger OT3s.

(God, Jeremy goes through a lot of shit in this, tho.)

Pre-Squip, Jenna was kinda-sorta Brooke’s friend--or, well, friendly. However, she’s actually full blown “oh my God she’s wonderful” in love with Brooke.

Brooke isn't aware of that, esp since Jenna tries her not to be around her a lot. She's also trying to hide her own queerness, bc she’s a trans woman and she knows Chloe finding that out would be extremely dangerous.

Eventually, Chloe succeeds in making Brooke take the Red months after canon usually ends, w/o Michael’s help. If you’re curious, Red doesn’t affect her normal Squip bc she’s had him too long and a lot of his receptors and stuff are damaged, so it’s the second one she gets in canon that turns off.

This plan backfires, however, as Brooke’s Squip comes back with a physical body w/ help from Rich and also-bodied-now Moses.

With a body, and shenanigans, Mo and Squip take out Brooke’s daddy too. His life insurance more than makes up for the loss of his income, as it’s a sizable amount. Now that Brooke feels more empowered and strong, she overrides her mother’s neglectfulness and takes control of the household w/ her boyfriends*, comes out as queer, helps her sister transition, and begin to heal from all of this trauma.

(* = Rich and Mo move in, as does Jeremy eventually, after graduation; Jeremy gets a psychiatrist and a therapist and prolly has to go through some intense outpatient care and possibly a stay in the hospital, before finally making major breakthroughs and looking like himself again. The five of them are now happy and in love.)

Chloe, after her arm gets twisted by the Squip’s protective presence so thoroughly, gives up on Jeremy and Brooke to focus on Jake. This too gets abandoned when Rich and Mo help him cut her off, and so she stays in her own popularity bubble, bitter, until graduating and going to a community college in a different state.

All in all, things work out well in the end, but getting there is a long, difficult process. This AU fascinates me immensely and feels like a great way to examine some of my really dark headcanons about MB, as I think it’s a town similar to Derry in Stephen King’s IT--as in, just chronically The Worst Place Ever, with this, like, miasma of low-key despair around it. People adjust and don’t question it, which is why so much of BMC is this flippant dark humor in the face of some highly questionable shit.

I’m so sorry this post is so long (I’ll be uploading it to AU under my usual Sedusa account, as metas like this are more than allowed), but I really adore these characters and the way they can be twisted around, so I had a lot to say!

Thank you for reading <3

-mod Seb

image description: virtual-like stairs pointed forward and bathed in neon yellow and blue to represent Brook and Jeremy, which I’ve modified from the original blue-only design.

source: x (link description: a free Wallpaper Flare image that I found off Google Image’s “filtered by ‘labeled and reuse with modification” feature) 

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/10/2019: SATANICO PANDEMONIUM or LA SEXORCISTA

Yes, Quentin Tarantino named Salma Hayek’s FROM DUSK TILL DAWN character after this Gilberto Martinez Solares movie. For some reason this is the main thing anyone wants to say about this movie, as if anybody has the time in their lives to list all the things that Quentin Tarantino has named after other things. Reading movie reviews or other film writing online is a really revolting experience. I usually skim a handful of articles and blog posts when dealing with a movie I don’t know so well, just in case there’s some important information I’d have missed, but the only thing anyone wants to say about SATANICO PANDEMONIUM is about Salma Hayek, and I had to read one especially self-satisfied review refer to her as “yummy”, and now my brain needs a Silkwood shower. My writing is probably pretty awful from time to time but I hope it’s never THAT stupid and boring.

Um anyway. What mainly interests me about Gilberto Martinez Solares’ 1975 nunsploitation movie is the same thing that interests me about a lot of Mexican supernatural horror movies--the earnest concern for the one’s soul. In the present film (how can you possibly choose between its two equally excellent titles?), the pious and beautiful Sister Maria attracts the attention of Satan, who pursues her with the actual fruit of knowledge until he succeeds in corrupting her. The newly awakened satanist then transforms from a good little masochist into a dangerous sadist, committing acts of arson, assisted suicide, rape, murder, and of course lesbianism, before she has to face the ethereal consequences of her sin spree.

It’s hard to quantify without a longer survey of such movies, but it still feels like overstating the obvious to say that religious horror movies from deeply catholic countries “get” demonic possession and satanic conspiracy more than the rest of us. I am a giant fan of THE EXORCIST, but even that cerebral effort--whose horror is a more successful allegory for secular concerns like addiction and mental illness, than it is a spiritual statement--remains focused on preserving Regan’s earthly, rather than eternal life. Religious horror is one of my favorite subgenres, which means I slog through a lot of repetitive, derivative nonsense, and most filmmakers can’t seem to get past the mundane torments of criminal violence, and of one’s one body decaying, as the main problems of infernal contimination. The impact of blasphemy escapes filmmakers who don’t live with it as a foregone conclusion, or who fear that audiences will find it too esoteric. Not so in LA SEXORCISTA, in which Maria’s bloody rampage is not just a matter of legal transgression, but is peppered with fabulously irreligious dialog like “I’m more powerful than God” and “I AM HELL!” There is a general aura of real concern for Maria’s spiritual fiber, and what will happen to her and her victims in the afterlife. 

It’s not that hard to understand why the fate of the soul is sometimes eschewed in movies that do not specifically function as actual religious propaganda, like the LEFT BEHIND or GOD’S NOT DEAD series. International viewers who have to suffer dreary debates about the separation of church and state in their daily lives, or for whom warding off proselytizers is a regular annoyance, probably don’t want to hear about the light of god in their escapist fantasies. Put that way, even I get the point. But the way I typically think about this topic is: I grew up during the Satanic Panic, Even though my parents were intellectual agnostics, the paranoid vibrations of opportunistic daytime talk shows, and openly religious broadcasts like the 700 Club, managed to penetrate my awareness, and what they had to say scared the shit out of me. Bob Larson’s Talk Back played on a local radio station, in which he would berate self-proclaimed witches and warlocks, and try to exorcise alleged possession victims over the phone, and I would race home to listen to his fevered rants in much the same way other kids might scare themselves silly with contraband horror comics. I was affected by these things not so much because I was afraid of the devil himself; it was more that these fanatics believed in much more terrifying realities than whatever my favorite horror movies could fabricate. The idea that eternal torture was doled out by a hateful and inscrutible god for victimless crimes like masturbation or sexual preference, or that a lifetime of good work would be for naught if you didn’t dedicate it to Jesus specifically, was totally mindblowing to me. The christians who perpetuated these ideas seemed like a bunch of sadistic perverts, and the notion that they might be correct about human life in some unfalsifiable way was the worst thing I could possibly think of.

So, even though I wasn’t raised in a religious household or community, I find it very easy to understand, and even relate to on some level, the existentialist horror expressed by countries where belief in hell is the norm. SATANICO PANDEMONIUM is a relatively breezy example, and I’m not suggesting that I was deeply shaken by it or anything--only that, as charmingly loopy as it is, I understand where it’s coming from.

[teaboot]

Hi there! I want to ask you something, but feel completely free to not do so if it makes you uncomfortable ok? It's because my best friend comes from an abusive house, and I just wanted to understand better about this uncomfortable feeling you mentioned in your last post, if it's ok :)

A warning in advance for discussion of abuse.

The experience of being in an abusive situation as a child is different for everyone, and I can only truly speak for myself.

For me, the process of realizing it WAS abusive took the longest time- much longer than it took to realize instinctively that something about it wasn't normal.

From my memories of being a young child, my first sort of awareness that I was being treated unfairly was when I was tasked with chores, and no matter how hard I worked or for how long, somehow it was never *done*. Cleaning my room, my parent would come in, take a look, and tell me, "it's a good start".

That was the first time I was conciousness aware of my parent being unfair. The first time their actions weren't automatically rationalized as 'they're the adult, they're doing the right thing' before I had the chance to actually think about it. That was an important step, and I was about five years old when the concept occurred to me: my best work does not impress them. They expect more. I must try harder.

From there came a greater awareness, but no deeper understanding. They would yell when work wasn't completed, despite not having made it clear what work was expected. A common order was, "if you see something that needs doing, do it". Perhaps an expectation an employers may have of an employee, but in hindsight, not a fair standard to set for a child of six years.

My solution? The first experiment, and the first act of rebellion: Be Perfect, Always, All The Time. It seemed simple. Do everything I could think of to 'be good', to the absolute maximum letter of the law, and if they came to yell anyways, I could ask them why, and they wouldn't have an answer. They would feel foolish, I would be validated as a good child, all would be right in the world.

It turns out that perfection is impossible. Nobody had told me that at the time, do that was a fun discovery. Not only that, but no matter how close I came to it, it still wasn't enough; even while actively focusing my efforts to be the quietest, politest, hardest-working child, nothing was good enough.

Slowly, over a period of years, I came to the conclusion that meeting their expectations was beyond my ability, and that their praise or approval wasn't something I had any real hope of attaining.

Even then, though, they weren't abusive. Not in my eyes, at least. Abuse was something unspeakably horrifying, not something normal and boring and everyday as simply having high expectations, strict rules, a harsh tone, no respect for personal boundaries, regular threats of bodily harm, invasions of privacy...That wasn't abuse. That was Tuesday, 3:30 PM. The concept of 'abuse' was like... Something that happened to other people, like house fires or car accidents or cancer. They were things that I sort of knew existed, in an abstract way, but not things I associated with myself.

I read a lot of books, growing up. Looking back, it was probably escapism. I woke up to read, read on the bus to school, read during class, during recess, after class, on the bus home, at home, before dinner, after dinner, outside, inside, in the bathroom, in bed, under the covers, and while dreaming. When I was punished, sometimes I wasn't allowed to read. Sometimes my books were confiscated. Once they came into my room and pulled everything out of my bookshelf and onto the floor, then left me to clean up the mess. Books and fantasy were my life more than my life was my life. Later, as I started writing, I'd lose that, too. Stories were the best things in the world, and they became an odd sort of arms race.

It was while reading that I learned the most important things I know and where I adopted my favourite parts of myself- An awareness of others. A respect for strength and perseverance. A resolve to withstand pain and hardship. Self-sacrifice. Kindness. Maturity. Determination.

Books were where I looked to find people I admired, and where I learned to recognize the behaviors of a villain.

Interestingly enough, the characters I wanted to be like and the characters that turned out to be evil did not coincide. At all. In fact, the person I looked up to who acted most like the villains did lived in my house.

So, something was obviously wrong. As the internet came within reach, I had access to stories my library didn't have: fictionpress.net and fanfictiction.net; stories written by people my age for people my age. And a lot of stories discussed things like depression, child abuse, suicidal ideation, self-harm, isolation, etcetera.

Which blew my goddamn mind, because holy shit. Holy shit, that's me. Why is it tagged 'abuse'? That happened to me. Am I being abused? I don't have it THAT bad. Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion.

Better look up the dictionary definition of 'abusive behavior' just in case. And 'clinical depression', because geez that seems familiar.

Cue two to four years of on-again-off-again obsessive research into long and short term effects of emotional, psychological, and physical abuse, as well as how to recognize abusive and manipulative behavior in others.

This all led to a very quiet, nagging, persistant realization: Holy shit, am I being abused?

Yes. Yes I was. My parents refused to acknowledge that anything was outside the ordinary, but I became aware of it. Threats. Gaslighting. Holding friends, family, and pets hostage as a tool of control. The physical isolation. The unreasonable standards. The hair-pulling, slapping, grabbing, humiliation, name-calling. Not just me deserving something terrible, but actions I didn't deserve that never should have happened.

And then one day, I went camping.

And somewhere nearby, I heard a father and his daughter arrive in their car to their own campsite, right next door.

And I hear him tell her, "Wow, we made it! Let's have a hug for the trip!"

Nonsense. Long drives happen. Why does that deserve a hug? Sappy and ridiculous.

Then the kid starts running around and screaming. Obviously shitting themselves with excitement. Being a nuisance. Disturbing the quiet. Running ruckshot, not helping the father set up camp at all.

And instead of telling her to shut up and be more considerate, or giving her a job to keep her busy, or hissing something else, he just... Let her. And it was annoying. Irritating. An aggravation that got under my skin like nothing else, because I never would have gotten away with that kind of behavior.

Hell, I never would have considered acting like that at her age. What was she, seven or so? Eight? I knew better at her age. That sort of shreiking and horseplay would have gotten me slapped, and I would have deserved it for being such an obnoxious, ignorant little puke.

Then I realized I wasn't breathing.

I wasn't moving.

I was sitting perfectly still, in a tent, in the middle of the woods, all alone, waiting to jump in.

Waiting to run out into the next camp and intervene.

Because soon enough he was going to get sick of playing the fun dad, and he was going to start screaming, and then he was going to hit her, and I'd have to stop him and make sure she was safe, because she was just a small little kid who was happy to be there and he was a grown ass man who knew better and if he so much as stepped harshly in her direction then I was going to tear his lungs out through his fucking throat, because she doesn't deserve that.

Because she's just being a kid.

Because I was just a kid.

So why did it happen to me?

I spent the rest of my time there hiding in my tent, one part too scared of my own shadow to come out and maybe actually see these people or God forbid talk to them and have to act like I wasn't losing my mind being within a thousand miles of them and an equal part ready to sprint out at a moment's notice if things got ugly the way I was used to.

And through the tarp I heard laughing, and jokes, and the father mentioning a mom coming to visit who apparently shared custody and still stayed friends, and a few more requests for a hug, and the girl put up some arguments over bedtime here and there but not even once did the father even raise his voice.

The screaming never came.

On Sunday morning, they packed up and left, and I never even saw their faces.

It's been a few years since then. I started therapy. Started keeping a journal. Work on cognitive behavioral homework so I can recognize when I'm being a bad parent to myself, so I can be kinder and more aware of my thoughts and actions. It's helped a lot. I still remember things sometimes that bother me, but they don't affect me the way they used to, and I'm not the scared and angry person I used to be.

So, yeah. Seeing something normal and healthy when you're not expecting it can be a bit of a jolt, and it can be a bit extra distressing if you're alone and unprepared.

Sorry for the long post. Hope it helps

[midnightglowsims]

All 93 for Beth

Thanks Rae, I have my work cut out for me!!! 

What is their gender? Female 

What is their sexuality? Though she doesn’t like putting labels on things, if the attraction is mutual she will like anyone lmao 

What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames? She doesn’t really have a meaning behind her name, but her nicknames are Bethy, Bethy Boo, and Princess (given by Cache hehe)

Do they have any siblings? How many? Are they older or younger?  Which sibling are they the closest with? Not any biological siblings, but she thinks of her best friend Howl as her brother

What’s their relationship with their parents like? What about other relatives? Uh, she really has no relationship with her parents. She was put up for adoption as soon as she was born, and has little to no contact with them. She also doesn’t know any of her relatives.

What would they give their life for? Probably her best friend Howl, he’s been there for her through a lot of shit and he’s seen her at her worst, she’s super grateful to have him and would always protect him

Are they in a romantic relationship? With who? How did they meet? OOH In an AU, She met this guy named Cache also in the system, and though they weren’t technically in a relationship, they did always have chemistry, it’s probably the closest thing she’s ever had to a real relationship

What do they believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them? Honestly? She’s got no idea. She’s never been religious is any way so she doesn’t know what to expect, and she’s scared as hell about it

What is their favorite color? Favorite animal? Pink, she loves pink. And cats, she’d have a thousand cats if she could

What are some of their talents/skills? She paints quite often, she doesn’t think she’s very good though she is. Also singing, she was in a band for a little bit and even though they never went anywhere, she still often sings

If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be? Uh, I dunno if this really counts, but growing up in the system herself, she’d probably wanna do something like create a safe space for all the foster kids she could or try and help better the system as much as possible

How old are they? When is their birthday? Canon her is like 17 I think but the AU I’m currently rping her in she’s 20! And her birthday is September 7th

What do they do for fun? Watch TV, hangout with her cat Tango, daydream about fantasies that’ll probably never happen, lmao

What is their favorite food? How often do they get to eat it? Pizza rolls, don’t ask me why but this girl loves her pizza rolls and will eat them as often as she can

What was something their parents taught them? Nothing LMAO

Are they religious? Not at all

Where were they born? Aurora, Colorado

What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages? Just English

What is their occupation? She doesn’t really have one at the moment tbh

Do they have any titles? How did they earn them? Not that I know of honestly

What is their favorite thing about their personality? She really likes that she’s so caring, pretty much anyone she meets she cares about, she’s got a really big heart so even if they hurt her in any way she’ll still care about them

What is their least favorite thing about their personality? She’ll sometimes say the wrong thing without meaning to, her mind can’t keep up sometimes and she’ll totally say the wrong thing without meaning to, and it’ll come off really wrong/mean sounding, even though she doesn’t mean it

Do they get lonely easily? Yes, most definitely, she gets lonely very easily, a lot more than she’d like to admit tbh

Do you know their MBTI type? Nope cause I’m lazy

What is their biggest flaw? Probably shutting people out when life gets too hard. She has a tendency to push people away when she needs them the most

Are they aware of their flaws? Most definitely

What is their biggest strength? Probably her big heart, she genuinely loves and cares about her best friends so much

Are they aware of their strengths? Yeah, definitely

How would they describe their own personality? She’d probably describe herself as very sweet and loving, at least after she got comfortable with someone lol

When frightened, will they resort to “fight” or “flight”? Flight LMAO, she’s the most anxious/scared bean ever so anytime there’s any type of fight/scary thing she will definitely try to run

Does this character ever put somebody else’s needs before their own? Who do they do this for? How often do they do this? I’d say she does this often if it’s needed, and honestly probably only for Howl & Cache

What is their self esteem like? It’s.. kind of there. It’s not very high at all, she definitely does not think she’s beautiful in any way

What is their biggest fear? How would they react to having to face it? Her loved ones dying/leaving her. Her friends are her only support system and anything happening to them is her biggest fear

How easily do they trust others with their secrets? With their lives? Uh, not easily I’d say. It already takes a little bit for her to completely trust someone so trusting someone with her life? It’d be rare

What is the easiest way to annoy them? Honestly just by doing annoying things, but she doesn’t usually get annoyed easily

What is their sense of humor like? Give an example of a joke they would find humorous. Uh she laughs at pretty much anything, any type of corny joke. Example though: What do you call a pig that does karate? A pork chop. She’d die laughing

How easy is it for them to say “I love you”? Do they say it without meaning it? Oooh okay.. so it definitely would not be easy for her to say, her anxiety would definitely hold her back until she built up the courage, and even then she’d still be scared. She would definitely not say it if she didn’t mean it, she knew she wouldn’t wanna be hurt in that way so she wouldn’t do it to anyone else

What do others admire most about their personality? Her big heart and her ability to love and care about someone

What does their happily ever after look like? I don’t know yet and neither does she, lmao, but she hopes to settle down with someone she loves one day

Who do they trust most? Is that trust mutual? Howl, and it most definitely is mutual

What does their laugh sound like? Do they snort when they laugh? How often do they laugh? In my head her laugh is super sweet and melodic even, and she most definitely snorts when she laughs. She’ll honestly laugh anytime anyone says anything even remotely funny

What is their favorite thing about their physical appearance? Her eyes, they remind her of the ocean and it’s really the only thing she’s confident about

What is their least favorite thing about their physical appearance? Her nose, she feels it’s too big for her face and she’s super insecure about it

Do they have any scars? If so, what are the stories behind those scars?Not that I know of honestly

How would they describe their own appearance? She would honestly say she’s average looking, not super pretty but not exactly ugly either. She thinks she has a nice face, in terms of she thinks she doesn’t have a resting bitch face or anything lmao

How easily can they express emotions? How easily can they hide emotions? Uh, her emotions always get the best of her, sometimes she’ll bottle things up but more often than not you can automatically tell how she’s feeling because she’s really bad at hiding things

What’s their pain tolerance like? Uh, low, definitely low

Do they have any tattoos? What are the stories behind those tattoos? She doesn’t have any

Do they have any piercings? Just her ears

How would you describe their style of clothing? How would they describe their style of clothing? Normal/average. She usually doesn’t wear anything over the top. She does wear a lot of pink clothing/accessories though

What is their height? Weight? 5′2 I think, she’s really short. She’s a really small person all over, so probably nothing more than 135 lbs

What is their body type? Are they muscular, chubby, skinny, etc? Just small/skinny I guess

What is their hair color? Eye color? Skin tone? Her hair is blonde, eye color is blue, her skin tone is more on the pale side, she doesn’t usually tan

What is their current hairstyle? What have been some of their past hairstyles? Which was their favorite hairstyle? Her hairstyle has pretty much stayed the same, it’s always been a medium length, though it was bright pink when she was younger

What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? How bad are their hangovers? She doesn’t usually drink, or at least not enough to get drunk, but if she did she’d probably be a sleepy/cuddly drunk, and her hangovers would be pretty normal, probably just a headache

What do they smell like? Why do they smell like this? (Is it the things they’re around or a perfume they wear?) I feel like she’d smell really sweet, but not overly sweet, probably like roses or one of her favorite perfumes, she always wants to smell good

How do they feel about sex? Are they a virgin? It makes her nervous with specific people, but if she ever hooked up with someone random (which doesn’t usually happen), it wouldn’t really matter to her. And she’s not, lol

What is their most noticeable physical attribute? Her eyes

What does their resting face look like? Do they have RBF? Probably more bored than anything, she doesn’t have a RBF 

Describe the way they sleep. Surrounded by lots of blankets and pillows, and with her cat Tango

Which season is their favorite season? Spring, she loves the flowers and how everything goes from dreary and cold to warm and colorful

Have they ever been betrayed? How did it affect their ability to trust others? The biggest betrayal she’s been through was either her last foster mother and how she did the worst thing possible, or when her best friend Cache left out of the blue. She’s always had some trust issues but honestly Cache leaving her probably made it a bit worse

What is always guaranteed to make them smile? If anyone compliments her, and just seeing her loved ones in general, she’s grateful to have them so she’s almost always all smiles around them

Do they get cold easily? Do they get overheated easily? Beth is always cold, she rarely gets overheated, but in autumn/winter she stays cold

What’s their immune system like? Do they get sick often? How do they react to getting sick? Her immune system is normal, she honestly doesn’t really get sick, but if she did she’d 100% complain the entire time

Where do they live? Do they like it there? In her AU she likes where she lives, it’s a small apartment with her best friend, but it’s home

Is their bedroom messy? What about their bathroom? Kitchen? Living room? Her bedroom and bathroom is more messy than it is clean, but she always tries to keep the living room and kitchen clean if guests ever came over

How did their environment growing up affect their personality? Well, switching between foster homes and group homes so often she’s honestly started to think she’s unlovable, or there’s something wrong with her. She thought that for a long time, and even though she’s older now, it sometimes still affects her

How did the people in their environment growing up affect their personality? Honestly, the only person that really affected her deeply is Cache, he was really the first boy to show her any attention/be affectionate toward her and that really stuck with her. He was honestly one of the first people she truly trusted, and when he left she was shattered, almost heartbroken, she didn’t think she’d completely heal but she somehow did

How do they feel about animals? Do they have any pets? She loves animals so much, she’d probably have a million if she could, but right now she only has her cat Tango, and she loves him more than anything

How are they with children? Do they have any? Do they want any? She doesn’t usually interact with children, she definitely doesn’t have any, but maybe later in life she thinks she’d want a few

Would they rather have stability or comfort? Comfort, she still would want stability, but if she could be completely comfortable and content, she would

Do they prefer the indoors or outdoors? She likes both, but she’s inside more often than not, and definitely prefers it, she’s a homebody 

What weather is their favorite? Do they like storms? She loves sunny spring days, and she only likes storm if the thunder and lightning isn’t too intense, she gets scared quite easily

If given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? She’d probably write any song lyrics that come to mind, or anything special to her

How organized are they? Not at all, she’s a very messy person and misplaces things often

What is their most prized possession? I honestly don’t know, but if she had to pick, she’d probably pick Tango because he’s her baby lmao

Who do they consider to be their best friend? Howl

What is their economic situation? Ehh.. normal but also not? She’s not broke, but she’s not rich, probably just average, she’s pretty comfortable with her financial standing

Are they a morning person or a night owl? Night owl, she hates waking up early and always has

Are they bothered by the sight of blood? Not at all really, she’s pretty used to it

What is their handwriting like? I like to think it’s very cute and girly, she probably dots her i’s with hearts

Can they swim? How well? Do they like to swim? She can, she’s not the best swimmer though, and sort of. It’s not her favorite thing

Which deadly sin do they represent best? I’m gonna say envy, she’s always been jealous of other people who have loving families or have been adopted into loving families, especially in the foster system when she saw a bunch of children being adopted, she always felt like something was wrong with her and it’s always kinda stuck with her ever since

Do they believe in ghosts? Yeah, she watches too many horror documentaries 

How do they celebrate holidays? How do they celebrate birthdays? She celebrates holidays with loved ones and goes all out for them, and she doesn’t do much for her birthday, maybe have cake but any celebration is unlikely

What is something they regret? She made out with Howl’s ex boyfriend once, granted she didn’t know they were ex boyfriends, but it hurt him and she doesn’t ever wanna hurt him, so she still regrets it to this day

Do they have an accent? Nope

What is their D&D alignment? Probably chaotic good

Are they right or left handed? Right handed

If they were a tweet, what tweet would they be? Is down below

Describe them as a John Mulaney gif. Is down below

What’s the most iconic line of dialogue they’ve ever said? I honestly searched for like 20 minutes and gave up, LMAO